Commandant (The United Federation Marine Corps Book 8) (4 page)

Ryck took a deep breath and sat up straighter.  He knew they were being watched as the cart carried them along, and he was not going to look defeated, at least.  What he’d done had been right, and he’d be damned if he’d look guilty—unless that is what it took to save some of his men.

The shuttle bounced over a kill bar and entered a wide avenue, the landmark of each Juliette station.  Trees lined the median as throngs of people walked to and fro.  Only official vehicles were allowed on Center Boulevard; the kill bar would stop any other vehicle as it tried to pass.  People stopped to stare as the shuttle made its way slowly to—and then past—the large gothic-looking building that Ryck assumed was the station headquarters.

At the far end of the avenue, the shuttle pulled in front of a nondescript building that spanned the entire height of the main chamber.  Where the other central buildings stressed appearances and architecture, this was a no-nonsense, utilitarian structure.  A side-door opened, and the shuttle drove inside and up to what looked like a commercial loading dock as Ryck might find in the industrial sector of Tarawa.  Four more guards awaited them; the only difference between them and the police in the shuttle was their well-tailored suits, complete with muted teal cravats.  Teal might not instill fear, but the four could have been dressed in pink tutus and still no one would doubt their lethality.  Their skin color ranged from almost black to a very light and pale pink, but still, they could have been clones in posture and movement.

At least they aren’t FCDC
, Ryck thought. 
Although that might be next
.

“This way, gentlemen,” a fifth man said, possibly physically larger than the four guards, but much smaller in presence.

Ryck, Plummer, and Kaawa stepped out of the shuttle, and then hopped up to the platform.  Their guide waited only a moment before stepping into the brightly lit corridor.  Ryck didn’t need the muscles’ urging to follow.  He kept his head high as if being there was at his request and not a summons. 

To Ryck’s surprise, the three were led to a small room not far from the service entrance.  There were no windows, not even an eWindow.  It wasn’t a jail cell, but with only a couch and a table with a pitcher of water and three glasses on it, the room was pretty Spartan.

“If you will wait here, gentlemen?” their guide said, his voice rising in a question while still leaving no doubt that they really had no choice.

To Ryck’s surprise, their guards left the room, too, leaving the three alone.

“So, what do you make of this?” Captain Plummer asked, his voice a measured calm, but with an underlying note of apprehension still evident.

“Until I see fuckdick security, I’m OK with anything,” Ryck said.

Commander Kaawa laughed at that.  “‘Fuckdicks?’”

“Yeah, fuckdicks.  As in FCDC.  Fuckdicks,” Ryck said, looking at the commander.

Where have you been all your career?
 
Or is that only a Marine term?
Ryck wondered. 
Can’t be.

“Pretty funny, sir.  And appropriate,” the commander said before all three fell into silence.

Ryck looked around the room, trying to spot the surveillance devices that had to be there.  He couldn’t see them, but then again, he was no countersurveillance expert.

His hand brushed the hard lump in his pocket.  Reaching in, he pulled out the old PA, holding it at arm’s length, thinking back to when he’d received it.  For the first time, he contemplated activating it.

He doubted it would do any good.  How could it?  Things had changed since then, especially as all humans were supposedly bonded in the effort against the Klethos.  He looked around the room again, once more trying to spot the surveillance.

What the hell?  I’ve got nothing to lose
, he told himself.

He half-expected the PA to remain dead, but when he hit the power button, it powered right up, green lights flashing.

“What’s that, sir?” Captain Plummer asked.

Ryck ignored him.  Pushing the connect could be considered an act of treason, after all.

And that made him laugh out loud.

This would be treason?  What the grubbing hell have I been doing up until now!

He was still laughing when he hit the connect to the only saved number in the memory.

After one ring, a familiar voice came on the line.

“General Lysander, it’s good to hear from you,” Titus Pohlmeyer said as if this were a normal call between friends.

Ryck was surprised that first, the call had even gone out.  All comms from the ship had been blocked, but now he was free to call?  And second, that Pohlmeyer had answered so quickly.  He had no idea as to the time back on New Mumbai, and even then, interplanetary calls had to be queued and slotted.

Suddenly, Ryck didn’t know what to say.  He almost cut the connection.

“Uh, is it Colonel now?” Ryck asked, stalling.

“Just major, General.  I’m glad you called.  You’re in quite a predicament,” the Confederation major said matter-of-factly.

“So you know about all of this?”

“Now, I wouldn’t be very good at my job if I didn’t, now, would I?”

“I guess not,” Ryck admitted.

“So, what can I do for you?” the major asked.

“I. . .uh, I really don’t know.  I just, well, you said—”

“I told you we had our eyes on you and to call me if there was anything we could do for you.”

“Uh, right.  That’s about it, I guess.”

“And you want to know if we can do anything.”

Ryck hesitated.  He may have disobeyed orders, but he was still Federation.  Asking for help from a foreign government was a huge step in a different direction.

“Maybe,” he equivocated.

“Well, the fact of the matter is I don’t know if there is anything I can do.  You’ve got 42 capital ships orbiting the station right now, a good chunk of the Federation Third Fleet.  We don’t know their intention, to be honest.”

Ryck’s heart fell, and he wasn’t sure why.  Forty-two was a lot, but in his situation, forty-two or five didn’t make much of a difference in the long run.

Ryck used his hands to indicate 42 to both sailors who were watching him closely.  Commander Kaawa slumped back in the couch, eyes closed and head up as he realized what Ryck meant.

“You’ve got company arriving now.  I imagine the meister will see you first, and then, well, we’ll see what happens after that.  Call me again if you can, General,” Major Pohlmeyer said.

If I can,
Ryck thought. 
Not too much of an endorsement, is it?

“How do you know all of this?” he asked. 

“As I said, I wouldn’t be very good at my job, now, would I, if I didn’t know.  And you are my job.  You have been since you were our guest on new Mumbai.  But to answer you, I am sitting in a café about 120 meters from your position now.  I have eyes on the building.”

“You’re here?  On
Juliette Station 2
?  How?” Ryck asked, surprised. 

I guess that’s how my call got through immediately.

The major said nothing, and Ryck added, “Oh, your job.”

Still, it astounded him.  They’d gone straight to
Juliette Station 2
from Ellison, and they’d been docked here for not even three full days yet.

How the grubbing hell had he made it here already?

Ryck didn’t know what one Confederation major, albeit one whose abilities and pull undoubtedly surpassed that of most majors, could help.  Still, it was a hope, and at this point, Ryck would grasp and claw at any life ring thrown his way.

“Gentlemen, the meister will see you now,” their guide said after sticking his head in the door.

“I’ve got to go,” Ryck said over the phone.  “I’ll call you if I can when I find out what’s going on,” he said hurriedly.

He cut off the responding “Go with—” and slid the PA back into his pocket.  With the other two in tow, he followed their guide (and four guards) to discover their fate.

Chapter 5

“Shit does really follow you, General,” Meister Glenda Henricks-Pata said as Ryck and the two sailors were escorted into the room.

Ryck held his face steady, fighting to keep from rolling his eyes.  In
The Warrior
, the flick about his fight with the Klethos
d’relle
, or “queen” as the populace had started to refer to the Klethos champions, that accusation had been repeated several times to the point that it had almost become his motto, and then time and time after that, usually by people trying to be clever.  Meister Henricks-Pata didn’t seem to be trying for clever at the moment, though.

The meister waved a hand, more of a flick in the air, and the two muscles and their guide quickly left, closing the door behind them.

“The problem is that you brought your shit along with you to my station, something I don’t appreciate.”

The meister was a large woman, easily 120 kgs, and somewhere in her upper middle ages—exactly where, Ryck couldn’t tell as her turquoise-spiked hair, currently a fad among young teens, threw him off somewhat.  She was seated in a large hoverchair, her sturdy legs spread, feet planted firmly on the deck.  For a moment, Ryck imagined her springing forward to take down the little gnats who had dared to interfere with her small kingdom.  She stared at Ryck, ignoring Plummer and Kaawa, her light blues eyes piercingly intense.  Ryck stared back while trying to maintain a neutral expression.  In the grand scheme of things, a major general in the Federation Marine Corps had more power than a station meister, but this wasn’t the grand scheme of things.  Ryck didn’t have the backing of the Federation behind him, and on her station, Meister Henricks-Pata had full control over him.

She finally wrinkled her upper lip in an expression Ryck couldn’t interpret and leaned back. The hoverchair gave a little mechanical squeal as it valiantly tried to compensate for her shifting weight.

“So what do I do with you and your merry band of men?” she asked rhetorically, pausing for dramatic effect.  “The Federation has offered a nice—well, no use playing coy—a
substantial
reward for your arrest and return to their tender embrace.  They are sending a fleet here to facilitate your transfer.”

“Seems to me that they’re already here,” Ryck said calmly.

His voice might have remained calm, but his thoughts were bouncing around his head like a songbird in a cage. 

“Ah, yes, them.  I should have realized that you probably had ways to pierce your cage.”

“Not really,” Ryck said nonchalantly.  “I saw them as we passed your observation window.”

He neglected to mention Major Pohlmeyer, although he was sure she’d be told that he’d been in contact with someone.

She leaned back forward and stared hard at him before bursting out in a peal of laughter.

“I guess we forgot about that.  Good on you,” she said as she fought to get out the words through her laughter.

“You know, General?  In another day and age, I could like you.  And I don’t mean the you portrayed in the flicks.  For all I’ve heard, you can be somewhat pompous, and you act like you have a stick up your ass, but you are also an honorable man.  And that is rare in this day and time.

“But this shit sandwich, this is beyond me.  My little station—all of the Juliette Group, for that matter—we can’t stand up to the Federation, even if we wanted to.”

Behind him, Ryck heard Plummer stir.

I should have figured it’d come to this.  What the grubbing hell did I expect?
Ryck asked himself, his face outwardly emotionless. 
Their vaunted defenses can’t stand up to an entire fleet.

“So for me and mine, we need you off the station.  Sorry, but your request for asylum is denied.”

Well, that’s that
.

Ryck had a momentary thought of rushing the meister, of holding her hostage.  And judging from the sound of a step from behind him, either Plummer or Kawaa had the same thought.  But to what good?  The meister was only looking out for her people, and even if the three of them somehow managed to gain control through Henricks-Pata, then what?  There were still 42 Federation ships out there, and the
Kravitch
was a sitting duck while docked.

No, it was better to sacrifice himself and others in the leadership and try and save as many of the Marines and crew as they could.

“I understand, Meister.  Your hospitality has been appreciated, as has your consideration.  So, I’m sure you’ve been in contact with the fleet out there.  How is this supposed to work?”

“General!” Captain Plummer said from behind him.

Ryck held up one hand, stopping the captain.

“Meister?”

“Well, there are two officers in the next room waiting for you.  They would like to talk first.”

Ryck gave the meister a curt nod, then spun around so quickly that he almost collided with Captain Plummer.

Plummer’s eyes were wide, and he had that twitchy motion of someone about to swing into action.

“Captain, we are guests here.  We will cooperate,” Ryck said, with as much authority in his voice as his 36 years of service could muster.

This was a turning point.  Ryck’s mind was on the men waiting in the ships.  Plummer’s mind was undoubtedly on how to fight, how to extricate themselves from the situation. 

He could have been a Marine
, Ryck thought. 

But there comes a time when no action at all is the correct choice.

Plummer seemed to be at war with himself, but within moments, he calmed down.  He nodded, then turned around as the door opened. 

Their guide stuck his head in.  “Gentlemen?”

“Go with God,” Meister Henricks-Pata said as the three men left the office.

“Not much chance of that, thanks to you,” Plummer muttered, too low for the meister to hear.

Ryck sucked in a deep, calming breath as he followed their guide about 15 meters down the passageway to another door.  The muscle had disappeared, which seemed odd, given the circumstances.  But there were probably armed guards waiting inside the room.  For personal reasons, Ryck hoped they would be FCDC, not Marines.  He wasn’t sure he could take getting arrested by Marines.

Their guide knocked several times on the door, a ratatatat that seemed too loud.  He turned the knob, pulled the door open, and motioned to the three men.

Ryck took another deep breath, stood up straighter, and marched into the room. . .

. . .to see General Hank Ukiah, the 91
st
Commandant of the Marines, and Rear Admiral Lester Linney, alone and waiting for them.

Ryck stopped dead, looking at the two men.  For a split second, he felt a surge of hope.  General Ukiah was his rabbi,
[6]
his mentor.  Rear Admiral Linney had been the CO of the
FS Brandenburg
while Ryck had been embarked, and the two men had formed a strong friendship over the ensuing years.

That hope quickly turned to anger as he realized what was happening.  The Federation had sent two men, two friends, in the hope that Ryck wouldn’t fight back, that he’d go quietly.  For a moment, he
wanted
to fight back, to punch the Federation in the jaw one last time. 

Ryck had sent his own brother-in-law on a suicide mission, so he’d absolutely fight his two friends if he had to.  But once again, to what end?  That was just his hubris trying to force him into action.  If his goal now was to save as many of the men as possible, that would be a good way to sabotage that effort.

“General, I see they’ve sent you to do their dirty work,” he said, his voice dripping with scorn.  “Glad you could make it, too, Lester,” he added.

“What?  Who sent me?” the commandant asked.  He shook his head in confusion, and then continued, “Look, we don’t have much time.  The task force from First Fleet is on its way here, and we’ve got to be long gone by then.”

What? 

Now it was Ryck’s turn to look confused.  His scorn evaporated as he tried to process what the commandant had said.

“I. . .what?  You’re not here to arrest us?”

“Arrest you?  Hell no!  We’re here to rescue you.  You think I’d agree to arrest you?  Me?”

“But, the meister, she said the Federation was here, and she would not grant us asylum, so, well—”

“General?” Lester Linney asked, tapping on his watch. 

“Ryck, we’ve really don’t have much time,” the general said, turning to Ryck.  “And we are not prepared for a fight yet when the First Fleet’s task force arrives.  We’ve got to get the
Kravitch
and
Temperance
fired up and moving, then all of us need to diddiho out of here.

“Going where?” Ryck asked, his mind still reeling. 

“To Tarawa, of course,” the commandant answered.

What?  Tarawa?  But—

“Unless you want to stay here,” he continued.

“Ryck, we really have no time.  I don’t want to be caught in orbit when the task force arrives.  I know you’ve got questions, and we’ll answer on the
Kravitch
, but now, we’ve got to get onboard.  Unless you have a better plan, I really, really suggest we blow this joint and get out of the meister’s turquoise hair,” Admiral Linney said.

For a moment, Ryck’s suspicious mind wondered if this was some elaborate trick to get the two ships off station where they could be easier dealt with.  He pushed that thought away.  He was being thrown a lifeline, and only a fool in his position would wonder who was doing the throwing.

“Lead on, Admiral Linney. We are at your command,” he said, his heart suddenly lighter.