Though the Stars Fall (United Humanity Marine Corps Book 1)

by Bill Roberts

  I respond: “Glad to be home, Josh.”

  That leaves Liz. She is standing silently a couple of steps away, a look of joy and promise on her bright face. I cannot really find words. I step up to her and wrap my arms around her. She rests her head on my chest as she hugs me back. I inhale deeply, the familiar smells of Ivory soap and lavender shampoo. I revel in the simple joy of being with the person I love most in the world. She leans back and I kiss her. For the moment everything is right with the universe. I lose myself in the kiss. I do not know how long we stand there, but soon enough I hear my delightful daughter’s voice off to my left saying: “Jeez, get a room you two.”

  Liz breaks the kiss and looks over at Esther. She says sweetly: “Daughter of mine, hush. Or I will ground you for a month.” She turns back to me and continues in a mock sotto voce: “How quick do you think we can ditch the kids?” A most excellent question.

  Josh groans loudly. Esther is a bit more expressive with a long: “Ewwww.”

  I sigh theatrically and reply: “Sadly, my love, I think we will likely be stuck with them for hours yet.” I lean in closer and continue with no little heat: “But, then we can be properly reunited.” I give her a quick hot kiss and break our embrace.

  I back up and pick up my bags. I had brought nothing to Wonderland, but over the last two and half years I have accumulated many different things. While the secret of the Watchers and the Synti are still known by a relatively small amount of people, the need to arm ourselves in preparation has caused the Wonderland project to slowly leak out some of the Watcher’s technology. The press and academia speculate wildly about it, but speculation can be dealt with. Consequently, I am allowed to bring a few of the new things home with me. Not the least of which is a bunch of the new style flight suits. They are made from a new material that does absolutely everything well. The suits are cool when you are hot, they are warm when you are cold, and you could wear them for days upon days before they started to stink. I have brought an extra one for Josh. I hope he likes it.

  We head out of the terminal and hit the parking lot outside. I see my Mustang parked in the middle of the lot. This surprises me. I say: “Why did you guys stuff yourselves into the Mustang?”

  Liz smiles and replies: “I thought you would enjoy the drive home more.”

  “Thanks, guys,” I return. I stuff my bags in the trunk and Liz tosses me the keys. I open the door and hold it for Esther to squeeze into the back seat. Liz and Josh get in on the passenger side as I settle in to the driver’s seat. I fire up the V8 and sigh contentedly as it rumbles to life. The new silent engines we build with Watcher technology will eventually replace the internal combustion engine. They are far more reliable and required refueling only every five thousand hours of operation or so. But the quiet efficient hum they produce lacks the visceral joy you feel when you hear the grumble of a powerful gasoline engine. I pull out of the parking lot and revel in the sensual feel of rowing through the gears as we head down the road.

  “So,” I ask, “what has everybody been up to?”

  Esther goes first of course. She says: “Nothing, Dad. Just school and stuff. And before you ask, I dumped Rob. He was totally boring. I am so over boys right now.” The Neanderthal in me revels at this. Maybe she could postpone the whole boys thing until she is safely at college. Preferably far away, so I can conveniently ignore whatever it is she is getting up to.

  Josh goes next: “I got another acceptance letter. This one’s for SDSU. I’m probably not good enough to make the soccer team, but I would be able to surf every day, so that would be cool.” Some fathers would be upset with that answer. Not me. Josh is a great kid, I mean man. Crap I cannot believe he is eighteen. He does not know exactly what he is going to do with his life, hell most eighteen year olds do not, but he knows how to stay out of trouble. I’m sure he will do fine at SDSU even if he surfs every day.

  I wind my way up Rattlesnake Canyon road, we should be home in about ten minutes. I respond: “Just school and stuff, huh? Your Mom told me you took up Judo since I was last home. How’s that going?”

  I can hear Esther roll her eyes. But she plays along good naturedly: “It’s cool I guess. I do like throwing people.”

  “Sweet. I like that part too,” I reply. I glance at Josh in the rearview mirror and switch targets: “So, SDSU. I am happy for you to go wherever you want, but I thought you were all keyed up about going to Michigan?”

  Josh replies quickly: “Oh I haven’t crossed Michigan off my list. Would be cool to see Grandma and Grandpa every once in a while. But it would also be cool to go to school in California.”

  “It’s always nice to have options,” I reply. I make another turn, should be home soon now. I know Liz probably has a million things to tell me. But, it will wait. She got to talk to me far more on video call than the kids. They tended to be at school or hanging out with their friends. They are, after all, teenagers. We got along well together in spite of that, but they still far and away preferred the company of their friends. I ask another question: “So what do you guys have planned for this afternoon?”

  My kids have the decency to look uncomfortable for a moment before they answer. Esther reports that she had already made arrangements to “study” with some of her girlfriends down the street. Josh says that he and some of his teammates are going to the practice field with pizza out afterward. It bums me out for a moment. But, you cannot stop them from growing up. They love me, but they are well past the point where hanging out with Dad is fun. I love them too. They really are great kids. I let them off the hook: “Sounds like fun. Can you guys be back for a six o’clock dinner together?” They look relieved yet somehow they also look happy that I am forcing them to come home in time for us to have a little family time together. Like I said, great kids. They both thank me and promise to be there.

  I pull up the driveway and into the garage. We all bail out and head into the house. It feels so good to be home. The familiar smells, the familiar sights, it all crashes over me as I enter. God I love this place.

  I work my way through to the kitchen. I had a small lunch on the plane flying down here. Even without nanites I would have been starving. With them? I am ravenous. Fortunately, I have teenage children, so I am not the only one that heads into the kitchen in search of food. I beat them to the fridge and open it greedily. From behind me Josh calls: “I got dibs on the leftover spaghetti dad.” I am always amazed at how quickly we settle into old patterns even after a long separation.

  Liz just leans against the breakfast bar and watches as her charges descend into a feeding frenzy. After we all have grabbed something she says: “Nobody leaves the house till this mess is cleaned up.” Josh and Esther mumble something that sounds vaguely like an acknowledgement around their food.

  We finish stuffing our faces and work together to clean everything up. As soon as the last dish goes in the dishwasher the kids start getting ready to go. Liz and I crash on the couch and talk about little day to day things while Josh and Esther bang around the house. Esther makes it out first. Carrying her backpack she kisses each of us on the tops of our heads and says: “Heading to Jill’s.” She opens the front door and rushes out. Less than a minute later Josh heads by carrying his cleats and a soccer ball.

  Before he hits the door I say: “Josh, you want to take the Mustang?”

  He looks at me in shock. I have never let him take the Mustang without me going with him. Sort of one of those things. He replies: “Heck yeah, Dad.”

  I toss him the keys and he thanks me as he heads for the garage. After a few moments I hear the door open and the Mustang fire up. Another couple of moments and I hear the garage door close. The house is now completely silent. I look over at Liz sitting next to me and say: “Well getting rid of the kids was easier than I thought.”

  She smiles back and wraps her arms around my neck and kisses me hotly. I work my arms underneath her and pick her up.
I head for the stairs carrying her across the living room. As I carry her up the stairs we break the kiss. God, she is gorgeous. Technically younger than me she now looks much older than I do. The nanites did for that. But, Liz is beautiful in a way only a woman approaching middle age can be. She is the most beautiful woman in the world as far as I am concerned. But still, I wonder if the fact I look so young bothers her. I ask: “You don’t mind that I look barely old enough to drink do you?”

  She squeezes me slightly and says: “You are my Shawn and you will always be my Shawn. That is all I really care about.” She runs one of her hands down my arm. I had also put on a lot of muscle because of the nanites. She adds: “Besides, it certainly has its advantages.”

  I kick the door to our bedroom open and head for the bed. I press my lips to hers as I lay down on the bed and pull her on top of me. I break the kiss and say: “I love you more than anything in this world, Liz.”

  She smiles back and says: “As I love you.” Truly, there is no greater thing than to be loved by a good woman. I kiss her again and start pulling up her shirt. God, it is good to be home.

  CHAPTER 19

  Forgiveness

  “Iron Six this is Stern. Insertion in one five minutes.” Gloria’s face looks at me seriously through TACNET, her blue eyes tight and her mouth set.

  “Roger Stern. Insertion in one five minutes,” I reply.

  “Roger out.” She replies and I see her hand move as she cuts the link. I do not mind the brusqueness; she has things to do on the bridge.

  I open up the command channel on TACNET and continue the pre-drop liturgy: “Guidons, this is Iron Six. Insertion in one five minutes.” My subordinate commanders all respond in a flash of faces and TACNET goes quiet.

  The pre-drop tension coils around me. I welcome it like an old friend. While it builds I think about the events of the three months since Dystan. The Golden Hind had returned to the Task Group after a short fold out of Dystan space. The Task Group paused for a few days to fully refit the Hind and give the Invisibles a little rest. I took charge of that operation as the only member of the Task Group that really knew what was going on. Well Bennie knew, but he spent the few days with Cait, helping her step back from the abyss, and rekindling an old romance. None of the Invisibles seemed to care, and none of the Marines or Sailors had any idea what was going on. So I just left them alone in the captain’s stateroom and made sure everything was taken care of.

  That is not to say that I did not see them from time to time. I remember how I once caught Bennie alone in the passageway. He had looked ashen and drawn. Catching him alone I took the opportunity to ask: “You look rough. Is there anything I can help with?”

  He shook his head and responded tiredly: “No. It’s just … never mind. Just whenever you think you have had it bad over the past thirty years, you haven’t. Trust me on this one. We haven’t seen anything Shawn.”

  He had turned to leave, but I stopped him with a gentle hand and continued: “Level with me. Can she go back out there or not?”

  “What choice does she have?” He had replied, emotional pain pulling his normally cheerful face down in sadness.

  When he said those words I had felt great sorrow. I replied: “She does Bennie. I will call on the Queen if that is what it takes. She can quit for good whenever she wants.”

  “Thanks mate,” he replied. “I will tell her. It won’t matter, but I will tell her.” I had let him go after that, wishing desperately that Cait would accept my offer.

  In the end Cait had not taken up the offer. Bennie would not say why, but I suspected she would continue for the same reasons all of us did. There is still too much left to do to protect humanity. Too much anger at the enemies who will not leave us be. And there is our addiction. We never talk about that, but I know it is there for all of us. After its refit the Golden Hind folded out with the eleven Invisibles crewing her. To where, and for what purpose, none of us know.

  With that incident behind the Task Group we continue battling the pirates attempting to destabilize the Elowynn. They have come in many different flavors, but we mostly fight Deeken. Over time things have begun to change for the Sailors and Marines. Part of it has to do with how our enemy fights. Right on schedule Captain Sunari’s predictions are manifesting themselves. It has become obvious that the Tangul External Security Apparatus has pulled out all of the stops. The tempo of attacks are increasing mightily, and the savagery has become more intense. Part of it has to do with the losses. In the first three months of the deployment we had not lost a single pilot. Over the last month and a half we have lost six pilots. Last week we recieved replacements, but that only keeps the Kodiaks dropping. It does nothing to remove the memories of those we lost.

  The tempo and the losses grinds on us all. We are closing in on completing our six months out here. This is normally a tough time. A time when under the best of conditions you feel worn down. But, the intensity and barbarity of the last couple of months has deepened this feeling. Even the pub cannot cheer us up anymore. It is a quiet place now, full of people drinking hard and trying to forget the fact that in a couple days, a week at most, they will have to drop on another planet against the tough as nails Deeken. There is almost no laughter, and few smiles. Even my close circle of friends is not immune. Two nights ago (the pub was closed last night because we had ops within twenty-four hours) I think we said all of twenty words to each other.

  Today we drop on a particularly large group of Deeken, a force we believe numbers nearly five thousand. They had carried out a massive and daring raid on the Elowynn planet of Kishdynn. The planet had a large garrison, but the substantial Deeken force overran them and brutalized tens of thousands of Elowynn before departing. It took us a week, but we tracked the bastards down and are here to repay their savagery with utter destruction.

  The planet we are preparing to drop on has no name. Just a number. A-ST-S 78. For the operation we need a name to streamline communications. We are calling it Tortuga. It has become popular to name these target planets after famous pirate havens of the Caribbean. It is a small rocky ball that does not even have an atmosphere. It will be a tough nut to crack. The low gravity will slow our drop, and the lack of atmosphere will mean that even the smallest breach of a Kodiak cockpit could be fatal.

  I feel disorientation from the Stern conducting a fold. Almost time to drop. I check for the drop bay doors to open. They remain closed. That is not good. Before I can ask Bennie contacts me on TACNET, his voice a crisp model of the Queen’s English: “Six, Three. The Stern’s Tactical Officer just contacted me. There are three pirate ships in orbit. The escorts are dealing with them before we drop.” Despite the artificial gravity created by the Stern I can feel her maneuvering violently. “The Stern will loop around and come back in. We should get at least a one-minute warning when things are clear.”

  “Roger Three,” I reply. I pass his message to my subordinate commanders and begin the wait. This is not the first time we have gone through this on this deployment. It is always painful to go through, as a Marine trapped in your machine just waiting to drop, there is nothing you can do but hope the pirates do not destroy the ship around you. However, it ultimately does little to impact ground operations. The Navy and Marine Corps have refined amphibious tactics to a high art over the years. Right now the fight is in the hands of the Navy. While the amphibious ships leave the area to begin a new drop run the heavy cruiser Quincy and the destroyers Bugler and Bengal will destroy or chase off the enemy ships. I am confident they will not let me and my Marines down.

  After several minutes and more hard maneuvering Gloria’s face appears on my TACNET. She looks tense, but in complete control. “Iron Six, Stern. One of the pirate ships has been destroyed. The Bugler has taken heavy damage, and the Quincy, Bengal and VMFA-222 are in pursuit of the two remaining pirate ships. The Commodore feels the situation is in hand enough to continue with the drop. Expect the o
ne-minute warning sometime in the next ten minutes.” Her face disappears.

  After I pass the word to my subordinates I contemplate the report she gave me. They must have been powerful pirate ships indeed to cause the Quincy and our destroyers so much trouble. Furthermore, with 222 involved in the pursuit of the remaining enemy ships we will not have them available to support our drop. It was already going to be a tough drop. Now it is shaping up to be a real scrap. Very well. We will do what we have to do. Sometimes that is just the way things work. Over the intercom I say: “This could get interesting Hildebrandt.”

  “Roger, Sir,” he replies. All business he continues: “I’m already factoring in not having aerospace fighter support, to cover our drop. I’m also factoring in not having the cruiser and destroyer and relying primarily on the amphibs for naval gunfire support.” I expect nothing less. Hildebrandt is a great FSO.

  TACNET comes alive with Gloria’s face again. “Stern to all Marines. One minute till drop.”

  I run my eyes over my readouts one final time. Everything in the green. I check my display and see the drop bay doors opening. The rocky ball of our target planet fills the view. It is a swirl of dirty white darkening to a deep gray in large patterns. We programed our Kodiak’s nanite paint to a dark mottled gray to match. With modern sensors visual camouflage can be largely superfluous, but I am a big believer in attention to detail.

  “Stern to all Marines,” Gloria’s voice is calm yet decisive. “Dropping, now, now, now.”

  The hooks let go and the piston propels my Kodiak out of the drop bay. As the planet below grows in my display I check my TACNET. It verifies a clean release for all sixty-two Kodiaks and six Cougars. Velocity ticks up slowly due to the low gravity on Tortuga. The gravity of this rock barely cracks point three of Earth Standard. Oddly enough, despite its low gravity, I could conceivably achieve an almost limitless terminal velocity. With no atmosphere there will be no friction to slow my descent. That being said, the speed will build quite slowly. I do not imagine I will be leaning on the jump jets at all for the first few thousand meters of my descent.