Lieutenant (The United Federation Marine Corps Book 3) (24 page)

Cheers erupted from 31 throats.  If Ryck wasn’t the loudest, he had to be mighty close to it.

“Shuttles are inbound!” Sams shouted, barely heard over the roar of the Experions firing. 

Ryck could see two shuttles gently coming in as if there wasn’t a hellacious air-to-ground pounding occurring only meters off the LZ.  All of Ryck’s charges could fit on one shuttle, but the Navy had been prepared for the security and research teams as well.

Both set down and lowered their ramps.  Several of the civilians rushed to the nearest one and climbed inside.

“Shart, get your team back and load them up,” Ryck shouted.

“Shall we?” Rancer asked, coming back to Ryck and offering his shoulder.

“I’m going to take you up on that.  Let’s get the St. Chuck’s Hell out of here.”

Sams was standing by the ramp, counting each person as he or she got onboard.  Mr. Saunders was carried by two others, and Reiko was helped up and into the shuttle.  A younger woman was carried piggyback by another woman who had to be in her 50’s. 

Tara and the other man who carried the blunderbuss rushed by, the man shouting his inarticulate joy.  Gutierrez and Caruthers came up and offered to help Ryck.

“No, Rancer and me, we’re fine.  Right Rancer?”

“Right, lieutenant!”

Ryck wasn’t fine.  His leg was no longer working at all, and he was lightheaded.  The pain, thankfully, had faded a bit, probably because the nerves were just too mangled to transmit the signals.  But he had only ten meters left, and nothing was going to stop him.

“We got everybody?” he asked Sams.

“Nine on the trail bird.  Twenty-two on this one.  We didn’t lose anyone.  You got all of us out.”

“One more headcount, then we’re out of here,” Ryck said.

He looked back as the ramp slowly closed, cutting off his view of GenAg 13. 

FS Frierson

Chapter 25

Ryck lay back in the rack, his leg in a portable stasis tube.  The ship’s doctor took one look at the mangled flesh and said he didn’t even want to attempt working on it.  The
Frierson
was a supply ship, and its sickbay was not fully capable.  But it was an extra platform with plenty of room, so it made a decent emergency transport for the civilians while the warships did their thing.

He really wanted a drink, though, and he was abandoned.  The stress of the avacuation had induced labor in Reiko, and all the medical staff was attending to her.  Even for a supply ship, it was not often that someone gave birth on a Federation Navy vessel, and everyone wanted to be there for the event.

Mr. Saunders was resting comfortably in the next rack over, softly snoring.  The old man had never complained, and Ryck had to give him credit for that, but age had been his enemy, and the man had been a liability to the entire group.  Then again, he was part of a terraforming team, not expected to go into combat.  Ryck listened to the snores, oddly pleased with the sound.  They were proof the man had made it.

“Hey, Rycky Recon, you hanging in there?” Kylton said, sticking his head in the sickbay hatch.

“Kyle, when did you get in?  How did things go for you?” Ryck asked, pulling himself into a sitting position. 

With his leg in a semi-stasis, there was no pain, so Ryck was feeling much better.  His nausea (simple shock, the doc had said) had completely faded away.

“Got a halfer.  My pickup was nowhere to be seen.  No sign, nothing.  We pretty much sat on our butts until pickup.  Cornball, though, he picked up 110 people and got them all out.  No capys.”

“You mean I’m the only one to run into capys?”

“No, the Second Recon guys were in it pretty deep.  I got some of this during my debrief.  It’s not too clear yet for us here on the
Frierson
, but it looks like they lost a number of Marines and had heavy casualties with the civilians.”

“That must have come in after my debrief.  We were the first ones back.  Still waiting for Klepto, though.  This no comms BS is really grating on my nerves,” Ryck said sourly.

“Did I hear my name being taken in vain?” Gunny Schmidt said, coming into the small sickbay.

Ryck’s face broke out into a smile.  “Thought you weren’t going to join us for our leisurely voyage back.”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world, sir,” the gunny said, shaking hands first with Ryck, then the captain.

“So, how’d it go?” Ryck asked.

“Not so good,” Gunny began as Ryck’s heart fell. 

Who’d they lose?

“The team’s fine.  A little banged up, but fine.  You know those misters really worked?  I never would’ve believed it.  Ask Rabbit about it when you’ve got the time.  His ass is numb, but he made it back.

“Our civilians, though, I didn’t know how to handle them.  They wanted to do things their way, not ours.  The jimmyleg captain, he thought he knew more than us, snares and dead falls and such.  Said they needed to ride it out.  In the end, I took fifteen researchers and got out of there and to our pickup.  I . . . I don’t think those guys made it out,” he said soberly. 

“I’ve already briefed the failure to the skipper.  He wants a full written report.”

“Failure?  You got 15 researchers out, and who knows what needed intel they have.  You didn’t fail,” Ryck protested.

“It kinda feels that way, though,” Gunny said.  “But what’s with this shit?” he continued, pointing at the stasis bubble around his leg.  “Shart says you went hand to hand with two capys, ghosting both of them, breaking your leg doing it?”

“What?” Kylton asked in disbelief.  “You did what?”

“Calm down.  It wasn’t quite like that.  I did take out a capy with my blunderbuss, and I sort of did hand-to hand with one of them.  My Hwa Min, the one you said was bullshit, Klepto, by-the-way, saved my ass, and I came out on top.”

“You ‘came out on top,’ even with a broken leg?” Gunny pressed.

“Well, not exactly.  After the fight, I sort of tripped on an irrigation pipe and broke it.”

There was dead silence for a good ten seconds before both of the other Marines broke out in laughter.

“You what?” Gunny managed to get out.

“I tripped and broke my leg.  What of it?  It could happen to anybody.”

“But not to the almighty Ryck Lysander, hero of the Federation,” Kylton roared, tears coming from his eyes.  “The mighty Lysander, master death dealer, trips on a water sprinkler!  You couldn’t write this stuff.  This is brills, simply brills.”

Ryck tried to glare at the two Marines, but he couldn’t keep it up.  He did see the humor in it.  He chuckled, and that grew into a laugh.  Then an uncontrollable laugh. 

“At least . . . I tried . . .” he began before giving up.

He’d almost gained control when the gunny mimed walking along, weapon in hand, then tripping.  That started the laughter going again.

The laughter was a release for Ryck.  He’d been tight, both physically and mentally.  Ever since Joshua’s death, since Hannah left him. He’d been miserable.  Recon was a refuge for him, where he could run away from it all.  But he hadn’t been happy, not like when he was a PFC, exploring his position in the Corps, finding out just what kind of man he was. 

For the first time in a long time, he’d simply let go.  He’d forgotten all the bad and just celebrated life.  Maybe he was ready to move on.

The three Marines had finally gotten control of themselves when Sams and Tara walked in.  Tara had on some sailor’s overhauls, which were about four sizes too big.  Both the leg and arm cuffs had been folded several times to shorten the sleeves and legs.  Dressed, she looked like a much younger woman.

“It’s a boy,” Sams said.

“One of our civvies went into labor,” Ryck said, cluing in the other two.

“Tell him the name,” Tara prodded Sams.  Literally prodded him, elbow to the ribs.

“Uh, well, she named him Bobbi.”

“Bobbi, as in Bobbi Samuelson?” Gunny asked, eyes wide.

“Yeah, she named him for Sams.  For what Sams did for us,” Tara said defensively.

Ryck didn’t know how to respond to that, and all five people stared awkwardly at one another.

“Well, I’ll leave you here so you can visit with your friends.  I’ll see you at the first lunch seating,” she told Sams, then “I hope you recover soon, Lieutenant.”

Sams seemed interested in the end of Ryck’s rack, rubbing his hand over the frame, looking down at it.

“‘I’ll see you at the first lunch seating, honey, and that’s an order!’” Gunny said, his voice in falsetto.

“What the grubbing heck, Sams?  I thought you said she was a bitch who threatened you?  She was sure on your case about the boots,” Ryck said.

“”Yeah, but you didn’t see her out there.  She could be a freaking Marine.  She was great, and without her, I don’t think we would have made it.  I just respect her, OK?  Nothing wrong with that, right?”

“The great Sams, womanizer extraordinaire, with a girl in every port,” Ryck began.

“
Girls
in every port,” Gunny corrected.

“Yes, girls in every port.  So do I hear the sounds of the ball and chain being dragged into position?”

Kylton started humming the wedding march, and the laughter grew the longer it went.

“Ah, screw it,” Sams said.  “So I like her.  Big deal”

The Navy doc came in, drying off his hands.  “OK, now that I’ve performed my first birth, we can get to you, lieutenant.  As I told you, we don’t have the facilities to do this kind of surgery on board.  I’ve got your leg quieted down, so it shouldn’t degrade while we’re in transit.  Francis here,” he said, nodding at the corpsman who had followed him in, “will give you a shot, and that’s going to make you drowsy.  Then we’re going to put you out for the duration.  This isn’t a true coma, like you’ve had for regen.  I just don’t want you moving about and putting any more stress on that leg.  You’ll wake up back at the Naval Hospital, primed and ready to go.  Any questions for me?”

“This isn’t a coma?”

“Nah, just a deep sleep.  Nothing to it.”

“OK, I guess you’d better have at it.”

“Hey, buddy, I’ll catch you on the boomerang, OK?” Kylton said as the corpsman tried to usher them out.

“Don’t worry, Toad, I’ll manage the crew while you’re in dreamland,” Gunny assured him as he left.

The corpsman pushed a button, and Ryck’s entire rack lifted up and moved to a center examining table. 

“You’re going to feel drowsy, and you should fall asleep within 20 or 30 seconds.  Then we’ll take you deeper so you don’t move around while under.  You ready?”

“Go for it,” Ryck said.

He immediately started feeling the effects.  Snoring filled his senses, and he briefly wondered if that was Mr. Saunders or him before sleep overtook him.

Zephyr-Hadreson

Chapter 26

Ryck was surprised to see he was being wheeled through a corridor. 

Has something gone wrong?  I thought I was supposed to be asleep?

It took him a moment to realize that he wasn’t on a ship.  The white corridors were too wide, and there were too many people moving back and forth.

“Good morning, sunshine!” a totally too-cheery orderly told him.  “Welcome home!  Dr. Larkin is going to check you over, then we’ll get you into surgery right way.  You’ll be good as new before you know it!”

Lord save me,
he thought.  It was too early for spunky overload.

He tuned out the orderly as his thought processes came back online.  His leg felt fine, so it had to still be in stasis.  But he knew they would want to get him to surgery as soon as possible after the bubble came off.

He was wheeled into a room, and the ever- chirpy orderly told him, “Dr. Larkin’s our best, and he’ll be here in just a spiff.  If you need anything, press this button, and I’ll be here in a jiff!”

Oh, just go
, he pleaded in his mind, while saying “OK, if I need you, I will” out loud.

“I’ll be here in a jiff,’” a voice said from the corner of the room.

Ryck raised his head to see Bert
Nidischii’ sitting there.

“What are you doing here?” Ryck asked, happy to see his friend.

“Oh, you know, just in the neighborhood, so I decided to stop by and see how you were.  You know how it is.”

“Just in the neighborhood?  And just when I get wheeled in to prep for surgery?  Is this a command visit?”

“Could be.”

“Maybe, to see where my head’s at?” Ryck prompted.

“Well, I was asked if I could make the trip.  You are a ‘Federation asset,’ as they told me, and they wanted to see what your plans are.  You were ready to resign before, and now that the war is probably over—”

“What?  Run that by me again?” Ryck asked incredulously.

“Ah, yeah, you’ve been out for a bit on your slow boat back.  Well, it’s not really over, but things are progressing.  We took GenAg 13 pretty easily, with less than 1,000 killed and maybe that many or more of the capys.  Did it in a day, too.  But then over 2,000 capy ships appeared just outside the Blue Line
[41]
, and they took an SOG ship captive, of all things.”

“Two thousand ships, ships of the line?” Ryck asked.

“Yepper.  Two thousand of the suckers, just appeared.  They took this SOG ship, gave them a kind of book of pictures, is how it’s being reported, and all 2,000 ships retreated some 130,000 kilometers and simply waited.  The SOG ship hightails it back to one of the Navy’s secret outposts and delivers the picture book.”

“The SOG knows about secret Navy outposts?”

“Yeah, imagine that.  Well, anyway, that gets copied and zapped back, and the xenobiologists and all their high-powered AIs are adamant that it’s a request for peace.  Sort of you stay on your side, we’ll stay on ours.”

“And we believe that?” Ryck said, trying to digest this.

“The Brotherhood is adamant about it, and they said they’ll stop any more aggression until we figure it out.  They threatened us with war if we pursued the capys before more was known. 

“We’re all still on full alert, but the capy ships are all still sitting there, unshielded.  We’ve got a couple hundred facing them, well within our side of the Blue Line, though.”

Ryck took a few moments to digest this.  The capys were the enemy.  They’d killed his friends, his family.  Now they were at peace?  It was hard to take in.

Bert just let him process the information.

It was almost five minutes before Ryck broke his silence.  “So now that the war might be over, they don’t have the legal grounds to keep me in if I still want to resign.  So they sent my good friend and mentor to see which way I was leaning.”

“Yepper, that about sums it up.  Of course, I can just wait until you are out of surgery and your regen coma.  It’s up to you.”

“Yeah, we should make them wait.  I’m not their pawn.  They may think I am, but if anything, I’m using them.  But no, you can tell them I’m all right.  I got everyone out OK from GenAg 13.  I broke my leg.  But I’m fine.  Ready to go back to a line company, too.  I should be getting captain soon—”

“You’re already on the list.  Congrats on that.”

“The list is out?  Well, seeing as 95% of the eligible are on the list, that’s no big achievement.  Well, anyway, tell the wizards on high that I want a company.  A PICS company.  I’ll take anything, really, but tell them I’ll resign unless I get it, and I want Hecs as my company gunny.  I might have a few other names, too.”

Bert laughed.  “It’s good to see my bud is back.  Turn the screw on them, Ryck.  You deserve it.  You scoffed at them calling you a Federation asset.  You are, though.  You may not be the asset they think, a political symbol, but to your Marines, you’re about the best asset they could have.”

Ryck felt tears start to well up, and he was saved by the great Dr. Larkin’s entry, followed by his posse of white-cloaked followers.  The doctor pushed Bert out of the way and signaled one of the others to deactivate the bubble around Ryck’s leg. 

I guess he’s too important to do that
, Ryck thought as Bert rolled his eyes over the doctor’s head.

“Now let’s see what we have,” the doctor said as all his posse leaned in to observe.

“This is exactly what I told you before,” he snapped in anger.  “This man should have been immediately immobilized!  If he had, it would have been a simple matter to set the leg for a quick ten-day regen.  But he was forced to continue to use the leg, and consequently, there was severe damage to the . . . ”

Ryck was lost on the more technical terms the doctor was throwing about.  He caught the word “flensing,” which Ryck knew from his days on the farm as taking muscle tissue off a carcass, and that grabbed his attention.  But the doctor kept going on that Ryck was lucky (not “Ryck,” but “this man”) that he was present and could save much of the leg if he was gotten into surgery within the half hour.

Since the doctor was ignoring Ryck from above his knee, he motioned Bert over.  “Can you do me a favor?  Can you cam Hannah and tell her I’m OK?  She would have gotten the casualty notice, but she won’t know that it really isn’t that bad,” he said before lowering his voice to a whisper, “especially with Dr. Wonderful here to grace me with his skills.”

Bert’s face fell.  “Already tried it, at least five times.  No answer, no messaging.  But I’ll keep trying,” he added hopefully.

No answer? Why?
Ryck wondered.
Did she change her contact channels?

Ryck felt his bed move again and four orderlies, this time, wheeled him out of the room.  Ryck looked over his shoulder to see Bert, who rendered a casual salute.

The next five minutes were a blur as Ryck was prepped.  The anesthesiologist, at least treated him like a person, not a lab experiment.  His leg, out of mini-stasis, started to hurt, especially when they started to clean the mangled flesh.

“Hey,” the anesthesiologist shouted at the prep team, “wait until he’s under, for God’s sake.

“Sorry about that, Lieutenant.  Don’t worry.  Count down from 100 to one, please, and you’ll be fine.

By 97, Ryck was out.