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

Chapter 12

Ryck leaned forward, his elbows on the table, his forehead cradled in his hands.  Dres Lemon, one of the many former Federation bureaucrats to offer his or her services and now Ryck’s trade advisor, blathered on, mindless of Ryck’s complete lack of interest.

Just get it over with
, Ryck pleaded before he sat back up and tried to look engaged.

He had never really imagined what it took to run a government.  As a Marine, even a high-ranking Marine, he had to worry about more than just the X’s and O’s of battle, to be sure.  But basically, what the Marines did was request funding and equipment, then given what they received, decided best how to train and conduct missions. 

The Federation, even just the part under Marine Corps and Third Fleet control, was a far more intricate beast, and one to which Ryck as taking a strong dislike.  It was a yammering, greedy baby, constantly demanding more and more.  Ryck was almost tempted just to surrender and give it all back to the Council—not as a reward, but as a punishment.

“So you can see, sir, that given the embargo and our lack of major industrial players committed to us, we will begin to run out of Class A materials within approximately four months.  I’ve highlighted the most vital to the war effort in green, the most vital to the subsistence of the civilian sector in purple for easy reference,” Lemon went on.

He’s enjoying this shit,
Ryck realized in amazement. 
He’s in hog heaven
.

General Copperwait interrupted the advisor with “I don’t see iridium on the list.  Certainly that’s a Class A.  We can’t fight without it.”

Shut the hell up, Tomtom.  You don’t need to bullshit me that you’re up on all of this
, Ryck thought, trying not to groan aloud.

“Certainly, iridium is a Class A material,” Lemon said with just a hint of condescension in his voice.  “But we have all the sources for it within our control.  It is the loyalist forces that might run out, especially if no one else trades with them for it.”

Over 80% of the iridium was mined by the Federation and the Confederation, and Ryck made a mental note to bring the matter up with Major Pohlmeyer later that afternoon.  There were other sources of it throughout human space, but no other government had yet developed the processing needed to actually make use of it to any great extent.

“Now, on this next slide, I’ve listed some of the possible trading partners to acquire some of the vital materials, but as you know, the central bank’s freezing of funds means barter might be the only way for us to pay for them, and that assumes we have the goods another government will want.  It’s a predicament.”

No shit.
  A predicament, he says, Ryck thought sourly. 
And that’s another thing to go over with the good major.  Will the Confederation give us the bridge loans?

“Excuse me, sir,” Vivian said, actually sticking her head in the door instead of announcing whatever over the intercom.  “You have a call I think you should take.”

“Who is it?”

“I think you need to hear that privately, with only General Nidischii’, Colonel Simone, the sergeant major, and Top Samuelson,” she said with conviction, naming the only other four in the room that were in Ryck’s personal circle.

“OK, all of you, you heard her,” Ryck said, trying to keep the happiness out of his voice that the mind-numbing brief would be over, at least for him.  “General Copperwait, if you could take over the meeting and move it to Conference Room C, I would appreciate it.”

Tomtom’s looking pissed
, Ryck noted as the general and the rest filed out.
  I’ll need to smooth out his feathers later.

“Well, Vivian, who is it?” he asked when the rest were gone.

“Governor MacCailín, sir.  On the green phone.” 

The green phone was the most secure form of communications in his office.  Only the comms in the vault were more secure.

Ryck jumped up and bolted for the desk.  Michiko MacCailín, Governor MacCailín, was the head of the local government on Kakurega, and she had led the forces on the attack on Camp Joshua, the same attack that the loyalist PR dicks had used to try and smear him.

Ryck hit the accept while toggling the relay so that the governor’s image appeared on both his personal screen and the large screen at the end of the conference table.  He held up his hand, palm down, to the other three, telling them to keep quiet.

“Governor, to what do I owe this pleasure?” he said, taking in her image.

The last time Ryck had seen Michiko MacCailín, she had been naked, bloodied, and battered on the torture table of some fuckdick interrogator, a preening rooster of a warrant officer whose name Ryck had long ago forgotten.  Ryck had stopped the fuckdick from giving her Propoxinal, the drug that would have opened up her secrets while destroying her mind.

The younger version of the governor had not been a beautiful woman, but she had an impressive physique that had nicely filled out the superhero costume she’d originally worn for the first holos she made for the rebels.  Now, some 20 years later, her curves had somewhat faded as she filled out with age, but she had gained an impressive air about her, a gravitas that had been lacking in the rebel leader.

Ryck had followed the governor’s career given their brief but important connection, so he’d seen holos of her.  But as she stared at him from light years away, he felt a force of presence.

She’d have made a great Marine
, the thought came unbidden.

“So, General.  Or do I call you Great Leader?” she asked wryly.

“General will do.  Or Ryck.  Whatever you want.”

“I thought I’d touch base with you, given a certain set of transmissions by the Federation.”

“We are the Federation, Governor.  The loyalists, as we call them, are the holdovers from the previous criminal government,” Ryck said, keeping the governor’s image under a steady gaze.

“Of course,” she said, breaking out into a laugh that hinted at the happy-go-lucky girl she must have been once so many years ago before she was caught up in the maelstrom of modern politics.  “But we here on Kakurega are not overly fond of the Federation, so is that still you?”

“You are not fond of the previous government.  You should be joining up with us to change history as we go forward.”

“Ah, the invitation to the dance.  But do I want to go?” she asked.  “Ellison decided not to attend your dance, even if you did all of this for them.”

“I didn’t do it for them.  I did it for the Federation, for all of mankind,” he asserted, knowing that what he said might be a little over-the-top.

“Right.  Spoken like all good little revolutionaries.”

Evolutionaries, not revolutionaries
, he wanted to shout even if he was not married to the movement’s pet phrase.

“We are what we are, Governor.  And I hope you will join us.  Given your past, I would think it would be a no-brainer.”

“Don’t take me for granted, General,” she said, steel back into her voice.

Ryck knew he’d taken it too far, but screw it.  Either Kakurega would join or not, and he was not going to beg this woman.

“But, as it happens to be, we do seem to have some common ground.  I am ready to officially debunk those Federation—excuse me,
loyalist
—vids.  I was there, after all.  And I can sweeten up the pot to where you are the hero of the people, saving us from brutal annihilation.

“And I can deliver Kakurega to your cause of merry revolutionaries.  But I have a price.  Well, two prices.”

Here it comes
, Ryck thought, but calmly asking, “And what might those be?”

“The first is suffrage.”

“What?  Suffrage?  Of who?”

“Of women, of course,” she answered.  “Or are you complicit with the plight of women in Federation society?”

“But women are free.  They are citizens, right?”

“Your wife, Dr. Lysander, is she free?  Can she ascend to an EP
[10]
within the federal government?”

“Well, no.”

“Can your daughter, Esther, the sports star, join your own Marine Corps?”

“No.”

“Then are we equal to men?”

“No, not when you put it like that,” Ryck admitted, not that he hadn’t considered the issue time and time again as he met capable women who were limited by Federation policy.

His own Hannah was one of the most capable women—no, most capable person—that he’d ever met.  But her rise in the government had stalled as less capable men had been promoted over her.  He’d been present when the Greater France Admiral Celeste DeMornay had soundly defeated the stronger Federation fleet under Admiral Starling.  And back before women were stripped of many of their rights,
Major Melissa “Missy” Walters was one of only two people
up until then to be awarded two Federation Novas (and before Ryck made it three).  Certainly the governor herself, and even Meister Hendricks-Pata had proven that women were equally as capable of leading as men.

And Ryck realized that he was a feminist, to use an ancient phrase.  He wanted his Esther to have every opportunity available to her as Noah or Ben.  He may not have openly come to terms with it before, but it had been there all the time.

“Done,” he said.  “What’s next?”

“Done?  Just like that?”

“Yes.  Done.”

The governor leaned forward into her cam pickup and stared at Ryck for a long moment, expressionless. 

Then she raised her eyebrows, shrugged, and said, “OK, done.”

“And the second price?” he prompted.

“I want to be on your civilian advisory council.”

Ryck actually sat back at her words.

How the grubbing hell did she know about that?

“Uh, the what?” he asked lamely, despite knowing that denying it would be a lost cause.

“The CAC.  The little council of civilians, currently made up of Terrance Gnatson, Lin Hao Bi, and Patrick de Misterie.  You are going to end with five members, and I want to be one of them.”

Bert had initially come up with the idea, and Admiral Chandanasiri had eagerly come onboard when Ryck had broached the subject with him.  The idea was two-fold:  to gain legitimacy with a promised future turnover of the government back to civilian control and to give the headache of actually governing to someone who actually knew what they were doing.  Terrance Gnatson, an obvious choice, had been approached only eight hours previously, and he immediately agreed.  Patrick de Misterie had only agreed two hours ago.

No one actually knew what the CAC would do yet.  That would be developed.  But now the governor was petitioning herself to be on it?  One of the other three must have told her about it, at least that is what Ryck hoped.  If she had a mole in their inner circle, so could anyone else.

She looked at him expectantly, and Ryck had to consider it.  Kakurega was not the most populous planet, but the governor had been in office for 16 or 17 years and had been proven quite effective.  They could do worse with her in charge.  And having her refute the propaganda smear campaign against him was an added bonus.

“It’s not just up to me, you know.  I’ll have to broach this with Admiral Chandanasiri,” he said, sure though that the admiral would not balk, especially if he had someone for the last position and wanted Ryck’s concurrence on that.

“You do what you need to.  But to sweeten the pot, tell him I’ll bring along Propitious Interstellar with me.”

The elicited a gasp from the other four eavesdropping Marines.  Ryck was floored as well.  No major Federation-wide corporation had come in on their side yet.  Most were not even neutral but firmly on the side of the loyalists.  PI was not only legally headquartered on Earth as were most of the large firms, but it was the third largest fabricator in the Federation and the fifth largest anywhere.  With the company supporting them, their dire position vis-à-vis supplies and materials would immediately improve tremendously.

“I think that will catch the admiral’s attention, governor.  But may I ask, how—“ he started.

“No, you may not.  Just trust my word, General.”

There had been a few tabloid rumors every now and then that the friendship between the governor and David del Solar, the PI CEO, was a little more than platonic or a friendship of political convenience.  Ryck had never paid attention to that.  They might cooperate due to mutual expediency, but still, PI security goons had killed the governor’s activist fiancé.  That would seem to be a pretty big hurdle to clear.

Looking at her image, though, Ryck began to question that conclusion.  Maybe there was more to it that he’d thought.  If Ryck and the governor could cooperate, given their one-time adversarial relationship, why not her and del Solar?

And if PI were going to come onboard, it could be for selfish reasons.  They were number three now, but if the provisional government prevailed, then they would be in perfect position to ride their support to be the largest fabricator in human space.  They were taking a chance, one for which Ryck was grateful, but they stood to gain if things went their way.