An Uneasy Alliance: Book 4 of the Sentenced to War Series

by Chaney, J. N.

  “OK, then. Let’s get going,” his dad said.

  He told the cab to take them to the airport, then took out a bottle of Griesivoir, the local spirit traditionally drunk for luck. Rev held back a groan. He was already feeling more than a little tipsy, but there wasn’t a way for him to turn it down. At least it wasn’t the rotgut he’d had at the VGW and only a little more potent than the beer at Leteeka’s.

  His dad poured a glass for everyone, even a finger for the two girls.

  “How do you say it in the Corps? Fair winds and following seas?”

  Rev nodded.

  “OK, then. To Rev. We’re so proud of you. The Home Guard. Who would have thought you’d come to this, back, what, seven years ago? When you had that traffic ticket? Well, you’ve exceeded expectations by far, and your mother and I—”

  “And me, too,” Neesy and Kat yelled out in unison.

  “The whole family,” his dad corrected. “We’re all proud of you. Very much. So, if we can all lift our glasses. To Rev. Fair winds and following seas.”

  Everyone lifted their glasses. Kat downed hers and held back her grimace while Neesy sniffed hers suspiciously, then took a tentative sip. Her face screwed up in disgust.

  “This is nasty!”

  “I like it,” Kat said, her voice breaking into a cough.

  “You do not, Kat. You’re just saying that.”

  “Girls!” their mother said. “Let’s quit fighting. This is the last time you’ll see Rev for a long time.”

  “Sorry,” they both said as one.

  “You have my seabags? All three?” Rev asked.

  “All three,” Grover said. “I put them in the back.

  Rev’s dad lifted up the bottle of Griesivoir, eyebrows raised in a question. Rev shook his head. There were no rules about boarding a shuttle while drunk, and civilian shuttles were far easier on passengers than Navy ones, but the less strain he put on his delicate stomach, the better.

  “Well, I’ll sure have another.” He filled his and his wife’s glasses.

  “Are you going to see lions this time?” Kat asked.

  She’d been heartily disappointed when he told her he’d never seen any when he was on Earth. She’d somehow gotten the idea stuck in her head that lions and other animals roamed the entire breadth of the Mother. Rev had to explain that he’d been to South America, not Africa.

  “I told you, I’m going to the home system, not Earth herself. I’ll be on Titan or Enceladus. I’ll probably never set foot on Earth again.”

  “But if you do, will you see a lion?” she persisted.

  “If I do, and if I go to Africa, yes, I promise, I’ll find a lion and send you a holo,” he said, giving up.

  “Any word yet on what you’ll be doing?” his father asked.

  “No. That’s up to the Congress of Humanity command. Right now, I’m still under the control of the Marines. The moment I enter the home system, I am attached, is how we say it. Totally under the Home Guard.”

  “But you said you’re still getting your Marine pay, right?” Grover asked. “And Home Guard pay at the same time?”

  “Yes, both,” Rev said.

  It was one of the perks of being assigned to the Home Guard.

  “Sweet. Making the big credits.”

  “Make sure you save that extra money, Rev,” his mother said. “Housing prices are sky-high now. Too many people still living in temporary shelters. You’re going to need a pretty big deposit if you want a home after you get back.”

  Rev just nodded. It was easier that way. She had it in her head that he’d be getting out of the Marines upon his return in three years, and he’d want to buy a place near the family’s and settle down. Rev taking Malaika home a few times only added fuel to the fire.

  The talk faded into generalities until the van pulled in front of the terminal ten minutes later. They piled out, and Rev threw his three seabags onto a cargo cart. He got his retina scanned, and the cart took off to deliver his bags to the shuttle.

  “Well, I guess this is it,” Rev said.

  And then it was time for farewells again. Grover slapped him hard on the back, telling him to make New Hope proud. Kat had tears in her eyes, but she whispered, “You take a holo with a lion, OK?”

  Rev laughed. “If I see one, I will.”

  Neesy was solemn, holding out a hand, but as Rev started to take it, she changed that into a hug. His mother’s hug was longer, and she kept telling him to take care of himself and to call back once he got there.

  Then it was time for his father, the man who’d come into his mother’s and his life and created a family, raising Rev as if they were blood. They shook, arms clasped, hand to forearm.

  “I’m so proud of the man you’ve become,” he said before pulling Rev into a hug. They held it for ten seconds before they broke, and Rev could see tears glistening in the older man’s eyes.

  He wasn’t doing much better. He had to choke back his own tears as he looked at his family. “I’ll try and come back on leave. No promises, but if it’s possible, I will.”

  And then it was time to go. He waved as he started into the terminal. He turned at the gate, waving one last time, then faced the scanner. Cleared, he stepped inside.

  Swansea’s civilian spaceport only had four gates. Rev had never been inside the terminal before, so he stopped just past the main entrance to orient himself. Gate Three was off to the right.

  “I guess this is really it, Punch,” he subvocalized. “Next stop, the home system.”

 

  Rev rolled his eyes. “I wasn’t being literal there.”

 

  That’s all. “Understood.”

  Rev didn’t know if this reticence was more of the same or if it was part of the neutering process. He knew Punch’s ability to record had been limited but hadn’t been told exactly what was done to his battle buddy from a security standpoint. Rev was going to be out of the Union, and allies against the Centaurs or not, not everyone was a friend. Punch had a lot of knowledge that other nations might find useful. Whatever had been done to him could be adding to his battle buddy’s seemingly reserved personality. As bad as Punch’s sense of humor could be at times, Rev missed that version of him.

  With a sigh, Rev headed to the security station leading to his gate when a voice called out, “Rev! Wait up!”

  He turned, and to his surprise, Tomiko, in uniform, was hurrying up to him.

  “Miko. What are you doing here?”

  She frowned as she came to a stop in front of him. “I came to say goodbye.”

  “But . . .” he started, looking back at the main checkpoint where people were scanned to confirm they were passengers and could enter. “I mean, this is passengers only.”

  Her frown shifted into a wry smile. “Marines are held in pretty high regard right now, and I sort of, you know, exaggerated our relationship to get inside.”

  “You mean, like you said we were . . .”

  “Engaged. Yeah, I know. But don’t worry. I’m not being some crazy stalker.”

  “Miko—”

  “Just joking. It’s only that . . . Look, I haven’t been a good friend these last three months.”

  “It’s OK. I understand.”

  She held up a hand, palm out, and shut him down.

  “It’s true. Back at Leteeka’s, when you dropped that bomb about going to the Home Guard, I took that as an affront.”

  “I should have told you first.”

  “No, you shouldn’t have. I mean, you could have, but you didn’t have to. Whether you were going to be discharged or not, whether you were going to the Home Guard or not, those were your decisions, not mine nor anyone else’s.”

  Which rather reflected his own thinking that night. But he didn’t say that.

  “It was just, you know, with Udu and Cricket getting hitched, with Ten all messed up, and th
en with all of us convicts getting discharged, well, the posse was going to split up. I know we don’t mean for that to happen, but sure as shit, it will. And the posse, and the teams, too, they were my family. So, I thought that maybe you and me, we could still hang on . . .”

  She trailed off.

  “I understand, Miko.”

  She gave a wry laugh and said, “Yeah, you probably do. Doesn’t make it right. So, I wanted to come and tell you that I was wrong, and I apologize. You’re gonna be a fucking amazing Home Guard trooper, and I wish you all the best.”

  “Why didn’t you come to my hail and farewell? You could have told me that there, and I’d have loved for you to be with us.”

  “I’m not sure. Ten and Yancey, they’ve been pretty pissed at me for how I reacted. Bundy lectured me, too. I didn’t want to face them.”

  Rev raised his eyebrows in surprise. He hadn’t realized the others had noticed anything. He shouldn’t have been surprised, though, now that he thought of it. They were all too close not to see that something was up.

  “Well, I’m glad you came here,” Rev said. “Could I get a hug, do you think?”

  She smiled—a real Tomiko smile, this time—and stepped into him. He wrapped his arms around her and squeezed with his right arm. She responded. She may be small, but her augmented arms were just as strong as his organic arm, and she gave as good as she got.

  The loudspeaker announced that his shuttle would commence boarding in fifteen minutes, and Rev slowly broke the embrace.

  “That’s uh . . .”

  “Yeah, yeah, I know,” Tomiko said, stepping back.

  But he didn’t want to say goodbye quite yet.

  “So, what are you going to be doing? I could ask my dad about getting you into the BOCT, if you want,” he said, the first thing that came to his mind.

  “Oh, yeah. I guess you didn’t know, ’cause I haven’t told you. I put in for a retention.”

  “What? A retention? As in staying in the Corps?”

  She suddenly looked shy, toed the ground, and said, “Yeah. Why not? I mean, it’s not like I’ve got a lot to go back to as a leech. Yancey put in his papers, too.”

  Rev knew about Yancey, but Tomiko asking to stay in was a surprise. Almost all of the convicts, those conscripted due to criminal behavior, were slated to be released. Being conscripted was too close to being drafted for most people, and with the war over, they wanted to put the fact that people had been involuntarily forced into the Navy and Marines behind them.

  But quite a few of the surviving convicts had found a home in the Corps, and large numbers had put in papers to be retained. With the Corps being downsized, Rev didn’t know how many of those requests were going to be granted.

  “Well, I have to think you’d be a good candidate. You’re a Raider. Think of all the augments.”

  She winced, and Rev knew that once again, he’d put his foot in his mouth. Along with the convict issue, as the degree of augmentation done to Marines in various occupational specialties was becoming known, there was significant pushback to that. Too many years of government propaganda against the Genesians and Deimers had an effect, and the idea that discharged Marines with significant augments would be walking among them was something that too many didn’t want to entertain.

  “I think they’ll take you, is all I meant.”

  “We’ll see.”

  Another announcement blared over the loudspeakers, telling passengers to move to their gate.

  “Well, I should be going. It’s been great to see you again, and I’m glad you came.”

  “I’m glad, too,” she said, a huge smile taking over her face. “It’s a real load off my mind. You . . . you take care of yourself. Don’t let any of those Mad Dogs or Frisians give you shit. None of the regular Marines, either. You’re Staff Sergeant Reverent Pelletier, damn it, and none of them can hold a candle to you.”

  They came together for one more hug before Rev had to leave. But as he walked up to the final security gate, he was feeling much, much better than he’d been only a few minutes before.

  4

  To Rev’s surprise, he never made it to Titan’s surface. He’d been met as he left the Nightingale Rexar at Titan Prime, the moon’s main port, by a fellow Union Marine staff sergeant, who escorted him to the USO for a quick lunch before catching a military shuttle to Enceladus.

  “What’s it like?” he asked Staff Sergeant Liam Patrice as they settled in their seats for the ten-hour flight to the smaller moon.

  “What? Enceladus?”

  “No. I mean, yes, that, too. But the Home Guard.”

  “It sucks.” He looked around to see if anyone overheard him, then in a quieter voice, said, “Not really. At least not all the time. I mean, the training is good, but dealing with the Mad D . . . I mean, dealing with all the others, who all do things differently, most who look down on you, well, that can get annoying.

  “And the bureaucracy gets in the way of everything. Take you coming in. We’ve got our own stations around the E, but you had to get shipped into Titan Prime because that’s the way they do it. And I had to fly out there, wait on my ass for you to come in, then we take this tramp back to the base. To top it off, in a couple of hours, one of your New Hope lieutenants is coming in, so Captain Calmarche has to come out and escort him in, as if I can’t play tour guide to a staff sergeant and lieutenant at the same time.”

  That was probably a valid beef. It seemed a little ridiculous to Rev, at least. But he’d been warned during his indoctrination that the massive creation that was the Council was mired in a bureaucratic morass. Byzantine, the deputy-director had called it. It was supposedly the only way to function with over three hundred nations, independents, and stations as members.

  “What about the other . . . uh, what do we call everyone we serve with?”

  “Troopers. We’ve got soldiers, Marines, militia, centurians, the Frisian color-masters, guardsmen, soldats, Legionnaires, guardians, vojniks . . . yeah, the fitafitas from Uafu—tough sons of bitches, you’ll see. Anyway, we’ve got a shitload of different types here, so the generic term is just troopers.

  “They told you about the ranks, right?”

  Rev nodded. “We’re all based on the old USA Army ranks from what I understood.”

  “Yeah. Doesn’t affect us much. No more lance corporal and gunny. PFC is an E3 instead of a lance coolie, and private is E1 and E2—not that we’ve got any E1 privates here, and not many E2s, either. You and me, we’re still staff sergeants. Warrants and officers are all the same. You’ll still wear your rank insignia, but you’ll get a colored rank tab to put under it so everyone can see what you are in Home Guard ranks.”

  “I guess the Fries like that,” Rev said.

  “Hate it. The colors aren’t the same. So, for them, they’ve got to wear the official colors over their color-master whatever.”

  A trundlebot came down the aisle with snacks. Rev had eaten three burgers and tots at the USO, so he just took a Coke.

  “What sucks the most, though, is that when the home system got invaded, we sat back with our thumbs up our asses. The navies took it to the tin-asses while we hunkered down in the bunkers. Lost a lot of us, but we never fired a shot.”

  “That would suck,” Rev said. “But with them pounding Titan, I’d think it would have to be a Navy battle.”

  Patrice said, “We knew that. But when the bastards landed on the Mother, we were geared up and ready to go. No matter our differences sometimes, that had us all banded together. But what do they do? They send in Mad Dogs and Marine Raiders. I mean, what the fuck? We’re supposed to be the best, right? And we’re here already. So why bring in anyone else?”

  Rev shifted uncomfortably in his seat, glad that the Marines didn’t have special patches or insignia for their direct combat specialties, like the Union SEALS or Frisian Army Commandos had.

  “Not that there was much fighting with them coming to surrender. But it was a big dis to all of us.”


  “Coming to surrender” was not how Rev would have described it. Maybe in a sense, but they’d come within losing two of their Threes to destroying Earth.

  “How much longer do you have with the Home Guard?” Rev asked, hoping to change the subject.

  “Me? Hell, you’re my relief. I’m gone in two weeks, and I can tell you, it couldn’t be too soon. No, no more of the Council bullshit. No more blue pauldrons to make us stand out like targets. I’m back to New Mars and the Fighting First. I saw a lot of action there before I came here. Holbert, you know. I was there. Deep in the shit, that one was. Not like what you provincials had to face. No insult intended,” he added as if he just remembered that Rev was a provincial.

  Rev was vaguely aware of Holbert, and nothing he’d heard indicated that it had been a particularly bad fight. Not as bad as Preacher Rolls, certainly. But the other staff sergeant’s tone was such that he expected Rev to know all about the battle there. The more time Rev spent in the Corps, the more he wondered how closely aligned the planets in the Union really were. He knew that the regular Corps looked down upon the provincial Marines, but did they know what the New Hope Marines, for example, even did during the war?

  Staff Sergeant Patrice and Rev were both Union Marines, and the other Marine was confiding in him now as an equal. But if they were back within Union space, would he be acting the same? Rev would bet against that.

  Patrice leaned closer and, in a conspiratorial whisper, said, “Speaking of provincial units, and you being from New Hope and all, what’s the scoop about these IBHO Marines we keep hearing about. They said some came from your planet.”

  “IBHU.”

  “What?”

  “IBHU Marines. Not IBHO. Integrated Bionic Hoplological Unit Marines.”

  “OK, IBHU. What’s the deal with them? I heard some of them and some of the Mad Dog super-soldiers are coming to the Guard. Are they really that good?”

  Rev didn’t know what to say. He looked at his left arm, all bright and shiny. It should be a dead giveaway. The presence of IBHU Marines was no longer a secret. Hell, Pierson and Tsao had been paraded around the Union to show off their Platinum Novas.