Legacy Marines (The United Federation Marine Corps' Lysander Twins Book 1)

by Jonathan P. Brazee

  “Why, Ryck? Now I have to live with this, to live alone without you. I’d rather stay here.”

  He embraced his wife and kissed her gently on her forehead. “Go, Hannah. Take care of the kids.”

  He turned her and gave her a gentle shove towards their children, and that broke Hannah’s heart. She walked away, focusing on them, knowing that if she turned back to her husband, she would break down and run to him.

  Esther reached the access ladder, turned around and cried out, “Daddy, I love you!”

  Right inside the hatch, Gunnery Sergeant Hans Çağlar, General Lysander’s long-time friend and shadow, waited. He helped Esther into the cabin of the sloop, and then turned to give Noah a hand.

  “Hans, did you have to help him kill himself,” Hannah asked as she came aboard.

  “I’m sorry ma’am, but he was going to do what he wanted to do. And what he wanted was to save you.”

  Noah put a hand on the gunny’s shoulder and said, “I’m glad he had a friend with him, Gunny.”

  The corner of the gunny’s mouth was ticking, the only sign of the turmoil the big Marine was feeling.

  “A friend wouldn’t have taken him here,” Esther said.

  Noah stepped to his sister, who had collapsed in a seat, and kneeled.

  “Gunny Çağlar had to, Ess. You know that. He couldn’t say no to Dad.”

  Seeing Esther like this jarred Noah. Esther was the strong one, the fierce one. But he knew she was also Daddy’s Little Girl, and that had broken her will.

  The hatch closed behind them, and the gunny said, “We need to leave now. Please take a seat.”

  Hannah paused at the top of the ladder, turned, and blew her husband one last kiss. “Can you turn on a viewscreen?” she asked, her voice terse, as she entered the ship.

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Gunny Çağlar reached the control panel, and a moment later, the view of the hangar appeared on the screen. All three Lysanders moved in front of it, staring at the image of their father reached the first minister.

  Esther prayed that he would jump the asshole, then come running back, but she knew he wouldn’t. He was a man of honor to a fault, even if that would cost him his life.

  The gunny sat in the pilot’s chair, and within a few moments, the hangar’s tractor assists picked the ship up and backed it.

  Esther let out another muffled sob, and Noah put his arms around her, hugging her tight. Their eyes were glued on their father as he turned to watch the ship cross the hangar deck.

  They had one last glimpse of him before the view-screen flared with them piercing the gate, and Gunny took control, sending the ship into the Dark.

  PART 1

  PROPHESY

  Chapter 1

  Esther

  “Just be yourself,” Ernie Jackson-Pohl said as he smiled at Esther.

  She didn’t know if that was simply part of his broadcast personality or if he was hitting on her. She looked over at Noah, who was slumped in his seat, staring at his PA. She nudged him with her foot.

  “I’ll be ready, don’t worry,” Noah said.

  “That’s his usual self. You sure you want that?” Esther said to Mr. Jackson-Pohl, then immediately regretting her slight slide into what could be considered as any degree of friendliness.

  Jackson-Pohl was well over 60, still quite attractive through the best efforts of modern medicine—and he knew it. His reputation was that he considered himself a star, and he wooed young women and men with reckless abandon (and if the snap-holos of him were any indication, with great success).

  Maybe on Prophesy he was a star, but Esther and Noah were not natives and had lived on much more populated worlds. They were only on their parents’ homeworld due to the pure chaos back on Earth and even Tarawa. When their dad had left to kick the government out of office and eventually take over the Council, her parents had sent them back to their homeworld to stay with Gamma and the extended clan. Esther would have rather stayed on Tarawa, and as an adult citizen, she could have refused to go, but she understood their reasoning even if she hadn’t agreed with it. Moreover, her father didn’t need to have the added stress of worrying about his remaining children.

  When her younger brother Ben was killed, she saw the loss in her parent’s eyes. It was without remorse that she acknowledged that Ben had been the apple of her father’s eye, the son who followed him into the Corps at the cost of his life.

  Mr. Jackson-Pohl laughed and said, “Don’t you worry your pretty head about that. Your brother is going to do fine,” as he reached over to put a hand on her knee—which she deftly avoided with a slight change of her posture.

  A crew member rushed up and ran a face-scanner over Jackson-Pohl’s face, then immediately pulled out a spray tube, entered some numbers, and sprayed it over the reporter’s face. Mr. Jackson-Pohl didn’t even seem to notice the administrations. Another quick scan, and he seemed satisfied.

  The makeup man turned to Esther, scanned her, and entered whatever numbers he deemed necessary.

  “Look up,” he said curtly before spraying her face.

  Esther felt a cool mist, then a slight tightening of the skin. She wondered how different she looked.

  Noah brushed off the makeup man, refusing even to look up from his PA. The man looked to the producer who had escorted Esther and Noah to the recording stage, his dismay evident. The producer shook her head, and for a moment, Esther wondered if the makeup man was going to tackle Noah and force him to accept whatever mastery the man wanted to do on him.

  “So, you must have been very proud of your father,” Jackson-Pohl said.

  Esther had heard this a million times in the four weeks since the Evolution and her father’s successful ascension to the chairmanship. Except technically, her father had taken over the position over a year before. There had only been the small problem of the old chairman not accepting that, along with half of the Navy fleet and almost all of the FCDC.

  The planet had been bursting with pride that one of their own had made the chairmanship, and now that her father had suddenly resigned, questions were rampant. This was Noah’s and her tenth interview since her father’s resignation, so she was getting used to the line of thought. It was as if every newsie followed the same script.

  Despite the intense questioning, neither she nor Noah knew why their father had resigned his position so soon after gaining it. Noah had uttered a single “Thank God” when they’d seen the broadcast. Esther, on the other hand, had been more than a little disappointed. She was immensely proud of her father, to answer Jackson-Pohl, and she’d been confident of his ability to govern the torn Federation. To have him suddenly resign and hand over power to Councilwoman MacCailín had been a shock to her. She knew he must have had a good reason, but until he arrived back on Prophesy, she wouldn’t know what that reason was.

  “Are we ready, Talia?” Jackson-Pohl asked with a bit of snap to his voice.

  “Five minutes, sir,” the producer said.

  Esther wasn’t sure why the producer was calling the reporter “sir.” Wasn’t she the boss? In the Marines, rank was evident, and there was a comforting knowledge of where people were in the pecking order.

  Not that I’ve been around Marines much lately, Esther thought. School’s a different world.

  Where Ben embraced everything Marines since he was a toddler, neither she nor Noah gravitated in that direction. She excelled in sports and was attending the University of Michigan, back in the USA on Earth, on a full athletic ride and had her eye on a professional career in either basketball or etherball.

  Noah? She looked at her brother with a loving eye. Noah, quiet Noah. She wasn’t quite sure what he wanted to do with his life. A culinary career seemed the most likely choice. But neither of them even considered a career in the Marines or Navy.

  “. . . pride to Prophesy, something along those lines,” Jackson-Pohl was saying, snapping Esther back. “Just follow my lead.”

  “Sure. We’ve been through
this before.”

  “But not with me, I assure you,” the reporter said, once again reaching out to pat her knee.

  And not with such a jerk, I assure you, she thought as once again, she shifted just out of his reach. Let’s just get this over with.

  The producer finally seemed ready to start. She cued the holo-engineer, and green lights on the dozen or so small holocorders lit green. Esther kicked Noah, then sat straighter in her seat.

  “We’re on in ten,” Jackson-Pohl told them.

  Esther cleared her throat and considered taking Noah’s hand to show family solidarity, then dismissed the thought as too corny. Their team of handlers had suggested it during the previous day’s interviews, but Noah had resisted, and Esther had agreed. Their father might be chairman, but he was not a career politician, and his children had not been raised in that circle. With their father resigning, it wasn’t as if they’d have to learn that way of life now, anyway.

  “Hello, Prophesy! Ernie Jackson-Pohl here with an exclusive with twins Esther and Noah Lysander, whose father, as if you didn’t know, is our very own General Ryck Lysander and until yesterday, the Chairman of the United Federation. With the general on his way back home, we wanted a chance to sit down and talk with his two surviving children to see if we can get to know the man and the legend from their perspectives.”

  Exclusive? It’s only our tenth interview over the last two days.

  “So, if I can start with Esther first. Esther is a junior at the University of Michigan all the way back on Earth. She’s a star on both the basketball and etherball teams and is carrying a Nutritional Studies major.

  “Esther Lysander, welcome home. I know you are proud of your father.”

  No shit, she thought, trying to keep an interested expression on her face.

  “What do you plan on saying to him when he gets home?”

  “I will tell both of my parents,” she said, stressing that her mother was coming back as well, “how much I love them and how happy I am to see them. Both Noah and I have not been able to spend much time with either of them throughout the fighting, so it’s going to be great just to be a family again.”

  “Missing your brother Benjamin, though,” Jackson-Pohl said with what she was sure was mock sincerity and compassion. “But you must be so proud of your brother’s service.

  “I don’t think I need to point out to all of you at home that Private First Class Benjamin Lysander was killed in action on First Step, saving the lives of his fellow Marines. The acorn doesn’t fall far from the tree.

  “Well, not all acorns,” he continued with a chuckle. “Esther, you didn’t choose to follow your father into the Marines, and you are a collegiate athlete. And Noah, you’re a what? A cook?”

  Noah nodded, and Esther hurried to add, “Noah’s studying culinary history and how that affects humankind and our evolution.”

  Esther loved Noah dearly, but sometimes, his lack of ambition and refusal to stand up for himself drove her batty. Jackson-Pohl was clearly being demeaning, yet Noah hadn’t bothered to take issue with that. He never seemed to care what others thought of him. Her comment about “culinary history” was probably pretentious, but she wasn’t going to let others think Noah was lazy or had no drive. It was just that his priorities were not necessarily the priorities of many others.

  “Well, I know the effects of my culinary history, especially if I’m eating Mexican! Whoo!” he said, laughing at his own wit.

  Esther leaned back ever-so-slightly. She wasn’t a prude, but in her family, joking about farts on a public broadcast wasn’t a sign of good upbringing.

  “OK, now. Let’s get serious again. I have to ask you, why did your father resign as chairman? He led the Evolution, he gained control of the Council, then a couple of weeks later, turned it over to Michiko MacCailín.”

  Esther was ready for the question, and she hadn’t needed their handlers to craft a response.

  “My father didn’t lead the Evolution to seek personal gain. His sole goal was to restore order and justice in a system that was broken. Neither my brother nor I have spoken with him since he resigned, so we don’t know for sure. But if I had to guess, he realized his mission was completed, and now was the time to relinquish the position to those who are skilled in the art of governing and serving the people of our great Federation.”

  “And Noah, we haven’t heard much from you so far. Do you agree with that?”

  “Probably. But we’ll know for sure after we speak with our parents.”

  Jackson-Pohl seemed to be waiting for Noah to expand on that, and when nothing more was forthcoming, he turned back to Esther.

  “I’m sure all of our audience, both here on Prophesy and out among the stars, are waiting to hear from his own mouth why he resigned. Will he be addressing us upon his arrival?”

  “I don’t know. I think we’ll have to wait--”

  Esther’s attention was caught by a man rushing up to the producer. She looked surprised to be interrupted, but she slipped out her earpiece and tilted her head to listen. Something about the two tickled something in the back of her mind, and she felt a sudden wave of dread wash over her.

  “Wait for what?” Jackson-Pohl asked, oblivious to the producer who looked up at them in shock and strode forward to the set.

  “Stop slinging!” she shouted.

  “What’s going on? I’m in the middle of my interview, and it’s live, if you’ve somehow forgotten that!” Jackson-Pohl said.

  The producer ignored him, coming to a stop in front of the twins.

  She took a deep breath, then said, “I’ve got some bad news. Your mother and father were just assassinated. The ship leaving Earth was sabotaged, most likely, and it exploded outside of Luna Station. There were no survivors.”

  Esther’s world crashed around on top of her.

  TARAWA

  Chapter 2

  Noah

  Eternal father grant we pray,

  To all Marines, both night and day,

  Who bidd’st the mighty space lanes deep,

  Their own appointed limits keep;

  For those in peril out in space

  Take them into your strong embrace.

  The sounds of the organ slowly faded away. Noah had always loved the ancient hymn, but now it took on a new, deeper meaning.

  “Here endeth the service. May Ryck and Hannah Lysander rest in peace forevermore,” Brigadier General Palcovic, the Chaplain of the Marine Corps intoned.

  Noah simply stood next to Esther, looking at the portraits of his mother and father. With the destruction of their ship, there were no bodies, of course. No one would be buried in the United Federation Cemetery on the base. General Hanata, the new commandant, had assured Esther and him that a monument would be erected, but while that seemed to soothe Esther, Noah didn’t care. A statue of his father wouldn’t bring his mother back. She had died, too, and not many people seemed to focus on that. Only the great Ryck Lysander, hero of the Federation.

  Despite his usual outward calm, Noah was in turmoil. He was angry that his mother had been killed, that his father had dragged her to Earth and put her in danger. He felt her loss deeply. He was also angry that his father had died, but he was also sad that he didn’t feel his loss to the same emotional degree. He loved his father, but that had always been a two-edged sword. He knew his father the man loved him. But he was also well aware that to his father the Marine, he was a disappointment. He wasn’t Ben, the child whose very breath led to service in the Corps. He wasn’t even his sister, the sports star who excelled in competition. He was just quiet Noah, lost in his own universe, whose chosen interest was old-fashion cooking. Noah knew his father’s feelings, he accepted them, but that didn’t mean he liked them. And deep down, where he tried to hide his own emotions, he resented his father in some ways.

  He’d thought he’d lost his father once, back on Luna. After his father had escaped with the help of the deep-cover Confederation team, Noah had promised to take the op
portunity to forge a stronger relationship with the man. And with his father retiring, it seemed as if fate was handing Noah the time to accomplish that. But fate is a fickle mistress, and his father had been taken from him. Noah would never get that chance to impress the man. And that hurt.

  “I’m so sorry for your loss,” the chairman herself, Michiko MacCailín said, stepping up to him and extending a hand.

  “Thank you, ma’am,” he said, more rote than anything else.

  “He was a good man, but I guess you already know that.”

  Yes I do. Everyone tells me that continually.

  The chairman, the most powerful person in the Federation, had been a governor of a back-water planet only a year ago. Now, she’d been elevated to her position by his father. Noah knew that the two had an unusual relationship of some kind, one that went back to his father’s deployment to her home planet. Noah didn’t think there was anything romantic to it, despite some undernet rumors to the contrary.

  “If you need anything, just let me know,” the chairman said before stepping to Esther to offer her condolences.

  I don’t have your number now, do I?

  Noah knew he was being petty, but he didn’t care. Soon, all the VIPs would be gone, Esther would be back at school, and he didn’t have a clue as to what he was going to do next.

  Admiral Blankenship, the new first minister, was next, and Noah barely heard what the man said to him. The man was not a friend of his father’s, but he’d been given his position as an olive branch to the former government. He hoped his mumbled responses were acceptable. The commandant offered his condolences as well, and once again, Noah was in a fog, not really listening and wishing he could just leave the chapel and get some time for himself.

  That is, until Major General Jorge Simone stood in front of him. Tears welled in Noah’s eyes, and he stepped forward to hug the broad-shouldered heavy-worlder. The general was a fine man with a brilliant mind, and for most of his life, Noah could turn to him for anything from advice to a scintillating conversation on almost any subject.