He raised his hand and she hers. He recited the oath and she responded back. He coded in a document authorizing issue of basic gear. She explained about her uniforms and he grinned. "No prob. It comes out of your pay. Will Senior Hernandez be willing to part with your old sword?"
"That I don't know. I hope so. I couldn't have taken it to Earth, with the laws there."
"See, that would have stopped me right there," he commented. "Well, you'll be active until the end of the year, then you revert to reserve, unless something picks up. Let's both hope it doesn't."
"Agreed," she said. She took the proffered sheet, "Logistics. Thanks. I can work back up to . . ." her voice trailed off. "
Warrant leader?
" she asked in a small voice.
"The senior sergeant slot is filled by Beker. Sirkot was promoted and sent to Legion Logistics. They need all the experience they can get. I wasn't sure who would take his slot, now I am. You'll need to go to Advanced Leadership School, of course."
"Uh, yes," she agreed. Then, trying to avoid crying until she left, she said a very sincere "Thank you."
"Go Stranger,
and to the Spartans tell,
that here obedient
to their laws
we fell."
—Simonides
It was rather enjoyable to be in formation, Kendra thought. Usually she'd hated them, but the Freehold forces had no field officers to make boring speeches and the line officers seemed to understand the need to be brief. Of course, they were all former enlisted, weren't they? The geometric precision was pleasing to the eye, and now knowing the history of military formations, it was an interesting ritual. This one was a formal one for the news and only a handful of medals were being presented. Literally thousands of awards were being made to the surviving soldiers. Almost without exception, they'd fought like demons and without regard for personal safety.
Most of the medals and other awards had simply been handed out. There were too many to count, like her three Purple Hearts, for example. Naumann half jokingly referred to them as "medals of stupidity." He should talk. He now had six.
Unlike the UN, the FMF presented awards in ascending order. She thought that was better. It stopped the lower awardees from feeling like afterthoughts, since they were awarded first. On the other hand, they were overshadowed by the higher awards. It still seemed the better approach. They were currently dealing with four Valorous Service Medals, including Marta's. Hers was diplomatically phrased as "For exceptional service while serving alone in a deep covert operation, succeeding in her objective of neutralizing the enemy commander, and surviving capture and torture administered as a direct result of her mission." Probably most of those present had heard a few details of her treatment and Mar winced slightly at the wording. They also awarded her a Purple Heart and a Prisoner's Service Medal.
"You okay, dear?" Kendra asked as Marta resumed her slot next to her. The formation was theoretically by unit, but her friends had managed to squeeze together in Headquarters Company, 3rd MAR with her.
"I will be. I don't think I'll hang this on the wall for a while, though," Mar said, shivering slightly. It took a moment for the words to register. Kendra's hearing implant was still a new toy and rather flat sounding. They said her hearing would improve with regen therapy, but this would have to do for now. There were other awards being given, but the two women weren't listening. Kendra did take another glance at Marshal Dyson. He still looked rather ragged after his "trial" by the International Criminal Court and the two Earth years of his "life" sentence for "war crimes" he'd served before Naumann had forced his release.
Kendra was about to say something about it to Marta when her ears caught, "Logistics Warrant Leader Kendra Anne Pacelli," and she started. A guilty part of her thought she was about to be berated for rudeness to others. Then she heard "Front and center!"
She automatically stepped back out of rank and marched the long walk toward the stand. What could they want with her? A VSM?
She climbed the stairs, reported and saluted the marshal and he whispered, "Right face." She pivoted to face the formation.
Behind her, the adjutant's soprano intoned the familiar, "Attention to orders! To all whom these presents come, greeting."
She paused, then read, "Citation to accompany the award of the Citizen's Medal—"
Kendra felt the blood drain from her face. Her lips silently mouthed,
What?
No. Not possible. Her knees felt weak. Her ears started working again and she heard, "Then Senior Sergeant Pacelli distinguished herself on thirty-four April, two hundred and eleven, at the Battle of Braided Bluff. Sergeant Pacelli was leading a platoon of reservists and militia and also acting as squad leader for the platoon's first squad, tasked with holding the ridge against the final UNPF occupation forces.
"Air support was unavailable, leaving the infantry to hold against seventeen-to-one odds. Sergeant Pacelli carefully and expertly employed all her position's automated, emplaced and support weapons, then ordered her own squad to engage with small arms.
"Massively outnumbered, Sergeant Pacelli retreated only as far as necessary to allow her platoon to continue engaging with superior position. Her unit held without support or fighting positions for more than two divs while taking small arms, mortar, rocket and direct-fire artillery fire, guided by enemy intelligence drones.
"Her position bore the brunt of the UNPF counterattack, and the platoon at her right flank was destroyed. Sergeant Pacelli received orders to retreat to clear the way for close air support. At that point, communications failed.
"Heedless of her own safety, Sergeant Pacelli ran more than two hundred meters through enemy fire, becoming wounded in the left arm in the process, and ordered her squad individually to withdraw as she returned, destroying three reconnaissance drones en route. Finding Militia Private Adam Warren injured and immobile, she carried him from the area, still engaging the enemy with her weapon. While doing so, she was wounded in the left leg.
"Finally able to relinquish her casualty to Reserve Corporal Drake, she turned and reengaged the enemy with rifle fire and grenades, accounting for an estimated twelve casualties, ensuring the safe retreat of her squad and keeping the enemy in the target area. She had no cover and was surrounded on all sides by enemy troops."
Well, yes, she thought. But I wasn't trying to be brave. There was nothing else to do. And it sounds like I was a one-woman army, the way they say it.
The adjutant was still reciting: "At that time, close air support attacked the enemy on her right flank, delivering ordnance within ten meters of her unprotected position. Immediately the craft was clear, she again engaged the enemy. Out of ammunition, she fought hand to hand and secured an enemy weapon. She resumed shooting, accounting for an estimated sixteen more casualties. During the course of the battle, she was wounded a third time and injured by a drone that she destroyed.
"She held her position as six squads approached, then charged forward through their fire to retrieve a second casualty, Militia Private Daniel DaSoto. Shouldering him, she retreated to the cover of a downed tree and defended the position and Private DaSoto for the remainder of the battle, accounting for another nineteen estimated casualties. Unable to advance through her fire and that of her squad, the enemy finally broke and surrendered. Her captured weapon held three remaining rounds.
"Sergeant Pacelli's actions led directly to the success of the battle, saved the remaining lives of her platoon and of more than two hundred and fifty other soldiers on the ridge, who, without her selfless efforts, would have been engaged at close range and overwhelmed. It is certain that without her actions, the battle would have been lost and the war's rapid end not achieved without much greater combat and loss of life.
"The courage, honor and devotion to duty and to her unit and nation displayed by Senior Sergeant Kendra Anne Pacelli, above and beyond that normally expected of soldiers of the Freehold in the face of battle, reflect great credit upon herself and the Freehold Military Forces and set the standard by which others will be judged."
"Signed under my hand, this nineteen September, two hundred and eleven, Citizen Patrick Chinratana, Speaker for the Citizen's Council, by unanimous vote."
The so far silent crowd let loose a few gasps at that revelation.
Kendra was still stunned and weak-kneed as the marshal draped the ribbon over her head. She remembered almost too late to lower her head to help. She straightened to thousands of camera eyes fixing her. She waited for a few seconds, knowing they had to have their invasion of her privacy, then made hurriedly to leave, remembered the marshal and turned back. He reached out and shook hands very sincerely. "It is an honor to serve with you, Warrant Leader," he said and saluted.
Oops
! she thought.
I missed the salute.
They'll forgive me, I hope. She snapped her best response and waited for him. "Thank you, sir," she said, unable to manage more.
After several seconds, the adjutant behind her coughed slightly. She suddenly recalled that this decoration, by regulation and tradition, meant anyone of any rank had to salute
her
. She dropped it quickly and the marshal dropped his. She turned to leave and as she descended the steps heard above her, "
Forces
!"
Shouted orders rippled across the field from subordinate echelons, army down to battalion, with gaps due to casualties. It ended with a flurry of shouted,
"Company!"
"By my command, pre-sent . . . arms!"
Flustered and overwhelmed, she popped her arm up quickly, then resumed her march back to her slot. Thunderous applause surrounded her, going on enthusiastically for long seconds.
Rob and Marta steadied her. "Brace up, girl," Rob said.
"I'm about to cry," she whispered. She was bursting with sweat, tingling and shaking, and everything sounded even more distant than her implant already made things. Another speaker was adding some words that she knew she should listen to politely. She was too distracted.
"You're allowed," Rob said. "No one doubts your courage."
"You knew about this, didn't you?" she asked.
"Yes," he admitted. "I had to help reconstruct my run, as well as I remember. Which isn't much."
"Bastard!" she said, smiling. Tears were running, but she was happy.
"Love, regardless of what you think, you were suicidally brave. Anyone else would have turned and run," Marta told her.
"Call me stupid," she said. "It never occurred to me . . . because I thought we were already dead."
Rob didn't tell her that Naumann had consulted with him as to whether or not she'd accept the medal. Additional merit was added because she was an expatriate from the enemy side. They weren't sure how she'd feel about that so it wasn't mentioned. He didn't tell her either that she'd been put in for a commendation for her work on the attack on Earth. He knew she wouldn't want any reminders of that.
"You are very much alive," he told her, as they applauded the speech. None of them had heard it. Few others had, either. "And are going to stay that way."
"Attention to orders. To all whom these presents come, greeting," the adjutant shouted, without amplification. They all braced and became silent. "Posthumous citation to accompany the award of the Citizen's Medal. Private Aaron, David J. Corporal Abraham, Lois L. Private Allan, Nicolas M. Lieutenant Andries, Jack C. Senior Sergeant Atama, Mvumbu K. Sergeant Babbage, Charles A. Operative Benitez, Rojero G. Captain Botan, Vera L. Operative By The, Jade S . . ." the list went on for long segs to absolute silence from the crowd. Over two hundred names were read. The adjutant was crying openly, but her voice was firm. " . . . Costlow, Derek L . . ." made Rob hiss and close his eyes. Kendra twitched as she heard " . . . Senior Sergeant Romar, Jelsie C . . ." She briefly closed her eyes and prayed. For Jelsie, she made it a Druidic prayer. "The above named members of First, Second, Third and Fourth Special Warfare Regiments distinguished themselves by unsurpassed courage and valor during the system battle of thirty-four April, two hundred and eleven. These men and women voluntarily infiltrated the U.N. and U.N. held stations and space facilities throughout the system, armed with explosives, and destroyed the intelligence and support infrastructure of the occupation forces. All accepted this assignment knowing it meant their deaths. Their sacrifice allowed the planetside forces to engage a superior enemy force with greatly reduced intelligence and strategic threats. Without their unwavering loyalty, the war would have been lost.
"The courage, honor and devotion to duty and nation displayed by these soldiers, above and beyond that normally expected of soldiers of the Freehold in the face of battle, reflect the highest credit upon themselves and the Freehold Military Forces and set the standard by which others will be judged."
"Signed under my hand, this nineteen September, two hundred and eleven, Citizen Patrick Chinratana, speaker for the Citizen's Council, by unanimous vote."
There was absolute silence for seconds that dragged on seemingly forever. Finally, shouted orders in the distance broke it and the skirl of bagpipes drowned out the twitters of birds. Kendra was just glad she wasn't the only person almost blind with tears. Besides the pipes, there were volleys of rifle salutes, and five Hatchets screamed low overhead, one pitching up and roaring vertically out of sight in an ages-old tribute. She could see Rob staring wistfully at the craft he'd never fly again.
Then she had to stay for the reception in the awardees honor. Everyone immediately joined the line that filed slowly past the slabs of malachite and black marble that bore the names of the two hundred and six soldiers whose deaths had made it possible for her to even fight. There was palpable silence, the visitors keeping quiet in awed respect as they stared through the monument into their own thoughts.