Colonel (The United Federation Marine Corps Book 7)

by Jonathan P. Brazee

  Ryck had to keep a straight face as the excited new chief of staff positively beamed with energy.

  “That sounds good; just let me know when. The J4 meeting is in our conference room, so that will save some time. Top Sunawata from my staff and Captain Libre from the battalion will be there, but I want you to get saddled up as soon as possible. You’d better get going,” Ryck said.

  “Roger that, sir,” he said, turning to go out the hatch.

  Just before he left the office, Jorge turned around and said, “Thank you, sir, thank you for the opportunity. I really appreciate it.”

  “No problem. I’m really counting on you.”

  He felt a load lift off his shoulders, and for a moment, he just leaned back in satisfaction. Then his PA beeped, reminding him that having a chief of staff was just one finger in the dyke, and the ocean was still threatening to flood in.

  He glanced at the PA readout and quickly snatched up the device.

  “General Mbanefo, what can I do for you, sir?” he asked.

  It just never stopped. He’d be glad to finally get on the ship and be able to catch his breath.

  Chapter 10

  “Yes, sir, I’ll keep that in mind,” Ryck said, shaking the general’s hand and leading him out of his office.

  “We’re all counting on you, Ryck, and I’m going to need your input if and when this Quail Hunt kicks off,” Lieutenant General Ernesto Bolivar said. “Well, I’m going to leave you now. I know you’re up to your ass in alligators, so I’ll get out of your hair.”

  The alligators were well past Ryck’s ass and closing in on his throat, but a colonel did not turn away a three-star, especially one who could be his commanding general soon. LtGen Bolivar was slated to take command of the ground element of the Joint Human Defense Fleet, which was being readied in case the combined governments decided to actively intervene on the side of the capys. The general had more time to prepare his force, but it was also much larger and complex. And it could be all for naught if mankind decided to leave the Trinoculars and the Klethos to each other. But the general had to prepare as if war was imminent, and Ryck’s Task Force Hannah would be part of his future force, but a part that was leaving in less than a day. What Ryck did could affect the entire fleet operation, and the general was trying to both keep tabs and offer guidance without getting too much in the way. Ryck hated it, but he understood it and didn’t blame the general, who had a good reputation among the fleet.

  Actually, he’d been left pretty much alone by the brass, with only General Bolivar, General Mbanefo, who was already acting as the commandant even if he still had a couple of days before the actual change of command, and Admiral Baris spending any degree of time with him.

  Ryck watched the general leave before turning around and getting to his desk. The issue of his different ground components being on their own ships was still taking too much of his time and efforts. Ryck would have liaisons from the other units with him on the mission, but the Confederation century would be on a Confed ship, the Brotherhood minor host on the fleet flagship, the Greater France company on the old Jeanne d’Arc, and so on. There could be a threat to humanity coming, if the capys were telling the truth, but until that was confirmed, the various forces of man didn’t want foreign units having free reign to wander about their respective ships.

  Even the Federation had chosen to send an older ship as the troop carrier for the task force. Instead of an Inchon-class, the Federation flagship was the FS Brandenburg, which was not nearly as capable of a troop transport. New at the time of the War of the Far Reaches, and with a notable combat record, the Brandenburg was never-the-less older technology now, though, so any foreign observers would not be able to ferret out much that would be of any use.

  Ryck thought that choosing an older ship was ridiculous. He was under the philosophy that you took the biggest stick you could find in a fight. Granted, this was technically an info-gathering mission, not a combat mission, but getting close to any fight going on could draw them in. And while he felt in his gut that the capys were sincere, this could be some sort of trap. The capys and humanity had been in an all-out war not too long ago, after all.

  “Sir, you got a minute?” Sandy asked, sticking his head in the hatch.

  Ryck didn’t have a minute, but Sandy was his battalion commander, so he sighed and asked, “What is it?”

  “There’s someone here to see you,” Sandy said.

  Ryck looked up, hoping it wasn’t some other brass trying to impart his fingerprint on the op. To his surprise, Sergeant Hans Çağlar walked into the office.

  “Hans! Great to see you. I thought you were on Alexander now. What are you doing here?” Ryck asked the big Marine.

  “I had to come see you sir, you know, to see if I could join up with you.”

  “But you’re at the Leadership Course now. You can’t be done yet, right?”

  “Well, sir, no, I’m not done,” the sergeant said quietly. “But I had to come. You need me with you.”

  “Our sergeant is sort of UA[10] now,” Sandy said from where he still stood in the doorway.

  “You’re UA?” Ryck asked stunned.

  As far as he knew, Çağlar hadn’t broken a regulation during his entire career.

  “Yes, sir, I’m UA. But if you’re going into a fight, I need to be there. That’s where I belong. If you went out there and anything happened to you, I don’t know if I could live with myself, thinking maybe I could have changed something. I’ve been with you thick and thin, sir, in some real shit, and my place is with you.”

  Ryck listened, even more stunned. That had to be the longest speech he’d ever heard Çağlar make. The guy would barely string ten words together.

  “I. . .I don’t know what to say, Hans. I mean, of course I would welcome you in any unit with me. I told you that before you went to the course. But now, now you’re UA. You just took off from your place of duty? What about that?”

  “Well, sir, I’m thinking you can make that an authorized absence.”

  “What? I don’t get you,” Ryck said.

  “I think what the good sergeant means is that you’ve got carte blanche to pull in just about anyone you want. So if you put him on your wish list, his absence would be authorized,” Sandy said.

  “Is that what you mean?” Ryck asked.

  “Yes, sir, begging the colonel’s pardon. I’m sorry to ask, but I didn’t know what else to do,” Çağlar said, looking like a whipped puppy. A big, strapping whipped puppy, but a puppy just the same.

  Ryck was touched. Hans was not the sharpest crayon in the box, but he was loyal and trustworthy. He’d put his career on the line to try and join Ryck, risking prison time and a dishonorable discharge. He couldn’t let that happen.

  “Well, Major, I think you better ask Top Sunawata to cut the sergeant here some orders. And you, Sergeant Çağlar, you’re cutting it pretty close. We leave in the morning, so you’d better draw your kit. I want you here at the office at 0800 sharp.”

  Relief flowed over Çağlar’s face.

  “Yes, sir! Thank you, sir!”

  “I mean it. Time’s a-wastin’,” Ryck told him.

  “Well, what was I supposed to do?” Ryck asked Sandy as the sergeant took off to get ready.

  “Not much. I think you’re pretty much stuck with him. If you had said no, I think he would have found a way to stow away on the Brandenburg.”

  “You’re probably right.”

  “Colonel Simone’s called a staff meeting. Are you going to be there?” Sandy asked.

  “Nope. I’ve got too much to do, and that’s why I have a chief of staff. I’ll let him worry about all of that,” Ryck answered.

  “Roger that, sir. Well, I need to take off. He doesn’t brook well with latecomers.”

  “I can’t imagine he does,” Ryck said with a laugh.

  Asking Jorge Simone to join him might have been the best decision he’d made to date. Ryck hated to think how far behind they’d be without the
man. He sat back down at his desk and pulled up his to do list. Not all of it was going to get done, and he’d come to terms with that. He just hoped he’d be able to get the most vital tasks accomplished before embarking.

  His PA beeped with yet another incoming message. He glanced at it, intending to relegate it to the end of the to-do queue, but the return address caught his eye. He opened it and read the message, a smile turning the corners of his mouth up ever-so-slightly, not that he’d ever admit that to anyone.

  It was from Major Titus Pohlmeyer, Confederation of Free States Army. The good major was informing him that he’d just arrived on planet to take up the duties as the liaison to the task force ground command. He would be on the Brandenburg with Ryck. Ryck still had the major’s contact number on his PA, encrypted for security. He’d never taken Titus up on his offer to, well, whatever had been offered at the spaceport, but as ordered by his seniors, he had kept the number. And now, his old babysitter was back with him, at least for the meantime.

  And he was still a major? Either the Confederation was much slower with its promotions or Titus’ job was better accomplished with enough rank to get things done, but not enough to draw any attention to him. Ryck was pretty sure it was the latter reason. Still, that wouldn’t stop Ryck from razzing on the major if he had the chance.

  He closed the message and had just started on the Armor report when he heard someone enter his office unannounced.

  What the fuck now? he wondered as he looked up.

  His frown shifted to a smile as he saw Hannah come in. With her in the loop, while he hadn’t seen her enough, at least they’d been able to share a few meals together.

  She sat down on one of the two chairs centered in front of his desk.

  “I take it you won’t be coming home tonight?” she asked.

  “I don’t think I can, baby. You should see what I’ve got left to do. I just don’t see it happening. I’m sorry.”

  “No, don’t be sorry, Ryck. The kids want to see you, but they’re so proud of you, especially after, well, you know . . .”

  “Especially after all the other kids gave them so much shit for me being kicked out,” Ryck said.

  A sanitized version of Ryck’s liaison with the capys had been given to the media, as had his present command billet. Sandy had said he’d gained a sort of cult hero status. That status could be fleeting, Ryck knew, but after what his kids had gone through, he didn’t care.

  “Look, I’ll try to come by and pick up my gear around seven,” Ryck said.

  “I can bring it.”

  “No, I want to get it. I’ll confirm around six, but if I can, I want to tell the kids goodbye.”

  “But nothing tonight, right?” she asked.

  “No, I’m afraid not. You should see my to-do list,” he said, pointing at his PA on his desk.

  “I’m not complaining. Just verifying,” she said, rising from the chair and going to the door.

  Ryck was a little disappointed that she didn’t even say goodbye. It wasn’t his fault, and she should realize that.

  He was surprised, though, that she didn’t leave but closed the door instead. And locked it.

  “This isn’t the most romantic spot, but with Jorge Simone keeping everyone at his meeting, it will have to do,” she said, turning with that look in her eyes. A look Ryck knew well.

  This was an official Marine Corps office, and Ryck was on duty. It was so wrong, but still, the thought excited him. Still, he took a quick glance back at his PA.

  “The rest of your to-do list will wait, Mr. Lysander. I’ve just put one more thing on the top of the list, and we be about to cross that off,” she said, unbuttoning her blouse.

  She was right. The rest of the list could wait.

  FS BRANDENBURG

  Chapter 11

  Ryck closed the connection with Colonel Rommers. The ground element commander of the Brotherhood forces had an aggressive personality, to say the least, and he was most evidently not happy to be answering to Ryck. Several times each cycle, he was contacting Ryck over the task force command circuit to discuss his ideas on ground operations. While not expressly stating them as ultimatums, Ryck got the message. The Brotherhood minor host (comparable to a Federation battalion) would cooperate with the rest of the joint task force, but they would not be subject to Federation orders. This was expressly at odds with the joint memorandum of understanding signed by the Brotherhood government, and Ryck wasn’t sure if he should inform Rear Admiral Baris of this or not. So far, Ryck had been keeping this to himself. Rommers hadn’t exactly stated that the Brotherhood host would be acting independently, after all, only implied it.

  Ryck had worked with Brotherhood forces several times in training over the years, and he’d always been impressed with their professionalism. With Rommers’ constant maneuvering, it was almost a relief to know that petty personalities and power-grabbing was a factor with them just as with about every other force. Their religious foundation didn’t change this basic aspect of human nature.

  The other commanders did not seem to be as confrontational or power-grabbing. The Confederation century, commanded by LTC Rosario Hennesey—who Ryck had met during the Telchines operation, and whose assignment could not have been coincidence—had been much more cooperative, as had the companies from Greater France, Outback, New Budapest, the Advocacy, Purgatory, and even the company from the Alliance of Free States.

  Cooperative or not, this was still a hodge-podge of a force that had never trained together. Ryck had liaisons from each of the ground units with him aboard the Brandenburg, but he knew if the task force were committed to ground combat, chaos would be the most likely result. Ryck had gone through coordination pains before with 2/3 when it was designated as one of the new integrated assault battalions, but that had been child’s play in comparison to this cluster fuck.

  Ryck understood the political nature of the military make-up of the task force. As a commander, though, he’d rather have had strictly Marines in the ground task force and let the Navy deal with making every government happy that they were represented.

  He didn’t even have a full command staff. Ryck had managed to pull a few Marines to create a skeleton staff, to include Lieutenant Colonel Story Hanh-de Friese as his operations officer, but they were still woefully under-staffed for what was the equivalent to a rather robust brigade.

  Ryck had always eagerly marched to the sound of guns, but for perhaps the first time in his career, he was half-way hoping that any potential combat would wait for the formation of the Expeditionary force and Operation Quail Hunt. Let General Bolivar worry about dealing with all the other forces.

  His hatch chime sounded, and Jorge Simone’s voice came over the speaker inside his stateroom, “CO, do you have a moment?”

  Ryck buzzed open the hatch and his harried chief-of-staff came in and gratefully collapsed in the chair to which Ryck pointed.

  “What do you got?” Ryck asked.

  Jorge held up his PA and said, “Major Gerold. He’s got a Brotherhood ops order that he insists you see. It’s well, it’s interesting, to say the least.”

  “What does Story think?” Ryck asked.

  Ryck had never met LtCol Hanh-de Friese before his assignment to the task force and was still trying to get a feel for the Marine. Story had been Jorge’s recommendation, and he had been immediately available, so he had concurred with his chief of staff’s recommendation.

  “He hates it and will not incorporate it into any ops order he has to develop,” Jorge admitted.

  “I thought you told me that Story said Major Gerold was an OK guy,” Ryck said.

  “He did. I think so, too. But corvus oculum corvi non eruit, you know,” Jorge told him.

  Ryck was glad he had Jorge on board, but he was getting a little tired of his continual use of Latin phrases as if he expected Ryck to understand them all. First Liam Stilicho, and now Jorge. Ryck was a grubbing commander, not a scholar of ancient languages. He raised one eyebrow at Jorge
.

  “Uh, it means ‘a raven will not pick out the eye of another raven,’” Jorge told him.

  “Like honor among thieves?” Ryck asked.

  “Yes, same meaning. The Brotherhood is sticking together. Gerold’s just the messenger.”

  “And we don’t kill the messenger, I know,” Ryck stated quickly before Jorge could come up with the Latin phrase for that.

  “If Story doesn’t like it, why bring it to me?” Ryck asked. “You should be short-stopping this kind of thing.”

  “Because Vice Bishop Flannery accompanied Gerold with it, and he insisted that you have to see it with your own eyes.”

  The vice bishop was the Brotherhood liaison to the Federation and second highest-ranking Brotherhood civilian in the task force.

  “Is that it on your PA,” Ryck asked.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Turn your PA around so I can see it,” Ryck told him.

  Jorge nodded, then twisted his wrist so his PA’s display screen faced Ryck.

  Ryck glanced up to the lit screen for a second, then said, “OK, I saw it with my own eyes. Tell the honorable vice bishop he can now keep his nose out of our business.

  “No,” he added hurriedly, “you know what I mean. Tell him thank you and that I will take it into serious consideration should the need arise for a mission.”

  “Roger that, sir,” Jorge said with a smile as he turned off his PA’s display. “Done.”

  “How is Story doing? Are you monitoring him?” Ryck asked, changing the subject.

  “He’s doing fine. He should have five rough contingency plans to you in a couple of hours. “Mary” Abd Elmonim and the rest of the battalion Three shop are giving him support, but Story is on it. This delay has been somewhat of a godsend, though, giving him more time to hammer these out.”