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The rebels had erected a makeshift stockade using the precincts own fences. Row upon row of men and women in green militia uniforms to one side, and in civilian clothes to the other, sat on the damp grass under the watchful eye of machine gunners set at each corner.
Verrill met them by the entrance, looking like he’d aged fifty years overnight.
“We’ve got the top leadership that survived, thank God. My folks haven’t started processing them yet, but I’m hoping I can convince someone with sufficient rank, military or civilian, to convince the rest of them in the outlying districts it’s time to surrender.”
“The fighting’s still going on?”
“Pretty much everywhere except Tianjin, thanks to Miko, though the government’s utter defeat should be obvious even to the dumbest militia trooper. I just want to stop the killing.”
“Maybe some are fighting on because they figure your people will string them up the moment they put down their guns.”
“A not unreasonable fear, considering recent history.” The rebel leader shrugged.
Decker gripped Verrill’s shoulder.
“I don’t know if it’s sunk in yet, but absent any other claimant, you’re the interim president of the provisional Republic of Garonne now. You need to set the tone for this planet’s future, and if it’s to be one built on a foundation of law, you need to make sure all prisoners are treated in accordance with the Rules of War, tried fairly by a court and if found guilty, punished accordingly. And if your own people don’t want to obey, you also need to deal with them for violations of the Rules.”
“The surest way to get Fleet intervention on Garonne and years of martial law,” Talyn added, “is by going rogue. The surest way to get Fleet backing against those still wanting to deny your claim for independence is by being better and cleaner than the colonial government you just replaced.”
Verrill nodded.
“I know. I just feel a bit overwhelmed right now.”
“Then delegate until you have enough time on your hands for a day at the beach,” Decker replied, grinning. “Cleaning up after a successful decapitation and setting up a new government is going to be a lot harder than anything you’ve done up to now.”
He nodded towards the stockade.
“If you’re open to another piece of advice, find some of the colonial administration’s better people, the ones who haven’t bloodied their hands, and hire them. I wouldn’t be surprised if a lot don’t want to go back to Celeste and face the music. Hell, hire Cedeno as your advisor, if you can stomach it. There’s a guy who knows how to run this place and who probably doesn’t have any appetite to go home.”
“None of my inner council would stand for it,” Verrill objected.
“Bugger them. You’re the president now, not first among peers. If Garonne goes to crap after today, it’ll be on you, not them.”
A small sigh escaped Verrill’s lips.
“I’ll think about it.” He waved towards the stockade. “Do you wish to examine the prisoners?”
Zack nodded. “There are a few people I need to sort out.”
The rebel leader looked at him curiously, then motioned his men to open the makeshift gate.
Decker ignored the civilians after glancing at a bedraggled ex-Governor Cedeno, looking more composed than one would expect and the still elegant woman by his side.
He had no problems identifying ex-Colonel Cen Harend or ex-Captain Rika Kozlev.
The former commanding officer of the Garonne militia sneered at the Marine when Zack stopped to examine him.
“You have no idea what’s going to happen to you, rebel scum.” Harend’s voice was raspy, damaged by the fumes and smoke of battle. “Celeste is going to petition the Senate to send in the Fleet and restore the rightful government. You’ll find Marines don’t mess around with the likes of you. When that happens, I’ll gladly see you hang.”
Decker smiled and leaned down to whisper in Harend’s ear.
“I’m Chief Warrant Officer Zachary Decker, Commonwealth Marine Corps, senior ground forces officer on Garonne. The Marines have been here all along and approve of this change in government so there won’t be any hangings unless President Verrill decides to institute the death penalty, in which case, you’ll be at the head of the list.”
He stepped back to watch Harend’s reaction to his startling announcement and, as expected, the man turned a lovely shade of puce, struggling to speak.
Decker leaned down again.
“The lady over there, standing with Verrill – she’s the senior naval officer in the Garonne system and my CO. Between the two of us, I’m the nice one. My advice to you is don’t piss her off.”
Laughing, he walked down the row of prisoners until he was level with Kozlev.
She looked at him with such disinterest that he shook his head, snorting.
“Remember me? The guy you wanted to geld just to see if my conditioning would take that as a reason to initiate cardiac arrest?”
Decker pulled his dagger from its forearm sheath.
“For all the crimes you’ve committed, no one would blame me if I executed you here and now.”
The blade flashed in the morning sun, and Talyn tensed. After Decker’s speech about rules and due process, killing even a psychopath like Kozlev would make his words ring hollow.
Zack grabbed Kozlev’s hair and yanked her head back, exposing her pale throat. Then his blade came down, and a collective gasp rose from the watching soldiers.
Kozlev screamed, but when Decker let go of her head, instead of a carotid artery spurting blood, all they could see was a thin red line under her jaw. He flicked a crimson droplet from the tip of his blade and then wiped it on her shoulder before sheathing the dagger.
“I claim coup.”
With that, he walked away from a sobbing Kozlev, to Talyn and Verrill’s relief.
**
“Are you sure you have to leave now?”
“We are, Mister President.”
Decker finished the last of Harend’s Glen Arcturus whiskey, recovered from the ex- colonel's quarters, and smacked his lips.
“If you have a case of this stuff stashed away somewhere, I might try to convince Hera we need a holiday on Garonne, but not here. The air is still too thick.”
Even after three days, the smell of smoke hung heavily over Iskellian, a reminder of the violent night that had ended colonial rule.
To the surprise of everyone but Decker, ex-Governor Cedeno had been able, at Verrill’s behest, to talk the last militia holdouts into surrendering a few hours earlier. The Garonne insurrection was officially over.
“Sorry,” Verrill smiled. “But if you’re ever in these parts again, I’ll be sure to have some on hand.”
Talyn’s commo link beeped for attention, and she raised her hand briefly.
“I think that’s our business associates, telling us they’re in orbit, which means we should get to the spaceport.”
She listened to the message via her earpiece and nodded.
“Time to go.”
“In that case, the only thing left for me to do is thank you on behalf of all colonists no matter what side they were on. We’ll always be in your debt.”
Decker waved away his thanks.
“Just make sure we don’t have to come back and pull your ears, buddy.”
“Count on it.” Mischief appeared in the interim president’s eyes. “I’d introduce you to my new advisor, but he’s busy recruiting some capable administrators from the bunch in the stockade. Apparently, the Celeste government isn’t known for its mercy towards those who fail, especially governors.”
“What about Harend and Kozlev?” Talyn asked.
The mischief turned to merriment.
“I’m sending all of the Celeste National Guard folks home on the next freighter, securely shackled in a cargo hold. Cedeno tells me the punishment they’ll get from their own is going to be worse than anything we can do. Those who were recruited here will get a chance to clear out new settlement areas to expiate their crimes, along with any deportees unwilling to take the jobs on offer. Their free money from Celeste is gone, and we’re not about to replace it with free Garonne money.”
“Good plan.” Decker held out his hand. “Take care, Verrill. Give Miko Steiger a kiss for me. I know she’s doing good work up in Tianjin right now, but she’ll get bored and when she does, let her know she can look us up.”
“Will do.”
“Always keep in mind that we’ll be back to check up on you some day, so make sure you do it right. Maybe you’ll see us, maybe you won’t, depending on Hera’s mood, but if she’s unhappy with you...”
Zack’s grin finished the sentence for him.
“Understood.” Verrill nodded soberly. “Godspeed to both of you.”
**
“What’s the deal?” Decker asked once they were standing alone on the tarmac beside Phoenix’s imposing bulk, staring at the darkening sky for a hint of Mikado’s shuttle.
“Tom’s sending down a crew to fix whatever ails our old girl and sail her home. We’re taking a cruise on Mikado where I’m sure your buddy and mine, Kal Ryent, will debrief us extensively. HQ won’t want to wait until we’re on Caledonia for that.”
“Provided the bar’s well stocked, I’m up for a few days of intercourse and intoxication.”
“You would be.” She nudged him in the ribs with her elbow.
“It’s a shame we couldn’t arrange for a few quiet hours with Harend or Kozlev and see what they know about rich uncles who enjoy a good civil war.”
“It would have been a waste of time. I doubt they know anything more than Roste did.”
“I guess.” Decker nodded. “Do you think they’ll ever find his body?”
“Buddy, when I make someone disappear, they stay that way. Notice how even Verrill has stopped wondering?”
“Remind me to never piss you off. I’d rather not have an ‘accident’ on my way home.”
Talyn touched his arm and smiled.
“You piss me off every day without fail. There must be something wrong with me that I’ve tolerated you for so long.”
“That would be the fault of the old Decker charm, baby.”
“No. It’s probably got more do with the fact that I have a weakness for strays.”
Zack bared his teeth and mimed biting her.
“Later, honey.” She blew him a kiss. “We don’t want to scandalize the locals. Besides, I think that’s our ride.”
She pointed at a boxy, unmarked shuttle on final approach.
“It looks like one of Mikado’s.”
And it was.
The dull little craft landed beside Phoenix and disgorged a half dozen spacers in civilian clothes. One of them walked over to the agents while the others hauled crates out onto the tarmac.
“I’m Fong, the guy who’ll be taking this little beauty back to where it belongs. I’ve read the status report, but is there anything else I should know?”
“Yeah. The Shrehari ale in the cooler is mine, but you can have it. Just ignore the heel marks on the ceiling of the master cabin.”
Fong laughed and then waved towards the shuttle.
“If that was all, your chariot is ready to spirit you up into the heavens. The skipper and Kal Ryent are eagerly waiting. Apparently, overstepping mission parameters to the extent you’ve done is a bit of a novelty for our lords and masters, and they’re impatient to hear the full story. Whether it’s because they’d like to distill the essence and replicate it on other planets or as evidence for your upcoming court-martial, I don’t know.”
“You’re a funny guy, Fong; I like that,” Decker clapped him on the shoulder, “but a word of advice. My partner’s sense of humor tends to the painful rather than the cheerful.”
“Noted.” He sketched a mock salute and joined his crew at the foot of the small starship’s belly ramp.
When they climbed aboard the shuttle, a youthful face peered out from the cockpit.
“Welcome aboard, Commander Talyn, Major Decker. I’ll have you aboard Mikado in no time. Just grab a seat and strap in.”
Zack’s head swiveled slowly to the left so he could lock eyes with Talyn.
“Major Decker?” He growled. “Is it because that young pup up front can’t tell a working Marine from a bloody officer or did you do something to ruin my reputation?”
“It’s a well-deserved promotion, Zack.” Talyn managed to look both solemn and naughty at the same time. “I found out just before we left Verrill’s temporary palace that my recommendation had been rammed through by the Chief of Naval Intelligence in person. Apparently, the Marine Corps had some hesitation when the request for an out of sequence promotion was first submitted to the Commandant’s office.”
“What the hell did I ever do to piss off the CNI, eh? It’s a fine way to repay a guy from getting damn near killed every time he leaves Caledonia for the big, wide galaxy on the Fleet’s business.”
“Oh quit grousing. You have more experience leading troops in combat than many majors in the Corps. Anyway, somewhere, deep inside, I know you’re pleased as punch you’ll finally be able to flip the bird at the human toothaches who kicked you when you were down. Who knows, you might even run across that moronic captain you smacked for being stupid, and he’d be forced to salute you.”
“Oh crap,” Decker replied after a few moments. A look of pure anguish came over his face, and he didn’t speak while the shuttle lifted off and raced towards orbit. “I’m going to kill that bastard.”
“Who?”
“Kal Ryent. I’ll bet my next paycheck he engineered it so I’d have to pay the promotion round to Mikado’s saloon and senior enlisted mess. It’ll cost me a bloody fortune.”
“Don’t bet your next paycheck; just use it to buy the round. I’d have thought a field grade officer could do simple logic problems. Maybe I should tell the CNI that I was wrong and have them rescind your commission.”
“Would you, pretty please?” A puppy-like look filled his eyes.
“Not even on a dare.” She stuck her tongue out at him. “Now shut up and enjoy the ride, Major Decker. Only lieutenants are allowed to whine.”
“Hey wait a minute,” he said when her quip about logic finally registered. “If I bet that Kal did it, and he didn’t I lose the paycheck. If I just go ahead and buy the round without betting, I lose the paycheck anyway. If Kal did it, I win the bet but still have to buy the round. That’s not logic, it’s bloody robbery.”
“Now you’re thinking like a senior officer.” She patted his arm. “Captain Ulrich will be so proud of you – after he tears you a new one for not only failing to complete the mission he gave us but also for providing Fleet support to a bunch of rebels.”
“You’ll be getting reamed out right along with me. But if we get a week or two in the section’s beach house to relax...”
“Don’t count on it. He doesn’t like his agents to go on leave with unfinished business hanging over them. Enjoy the time we have during our transit home.”
“After I get most of the 251st Pathfinder Squadron drunk on my coin. They’re capable of ruining even the bit of downtime we’ll get if they think I’ve stiffed them. Pathfinders are a nasty bunch.”
“Don’t I know it?” Her peal of laughter echoed through the small compartment. Zack winked at his partner and then sat back with an expression of immense satisfaction softening his features.
“You know,” he said, “all things considered, it’s been a successful mission, except for the minor matter of not figuring out who tried to stir up a small colonial war.”
“True.” She patted his hand. “But I wouldn’t worry. I’m sure the Coalition will give us a reason to go after them again soon enough.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of.”
“Why?”
“Because I’ll be stuck with intelligence until the day I die. You guys can’t organize a piss-up in a brewery, let alone stop a conspiracy in its tracks.”
“Perhaps, but the universe wouldn’t survive your return to a regular Marine unit, Major Decker, so you’ll just have to grin and bear it.”
“Aye, aye, Commander, sir, and on that note, may I ask if you’ve ever kissed a commissioned Marine before?”
“I have, but never by a major pain in the butt like you.”
“Then it’s time to rectify that little oversight.”
He leaned over and took her chin between his thumb and forefinger.
“You’d never survive without me, honey.”
