Recruit, Jonathan Brazee [which ebook reader .txt] 📗

Prophesy

Chapter 25

“You be lookin’ for a good time dere, sailor boy?” a heavily accented male voice came from behind him as he entered the passenger pickup.

Ryck spun around, took in the dark blue shirt of a Torritite, and took a step to hug the man.

“Hey sailor, we must be agreeing to price afore we be getting cozy-like,” Joshua Hope-of-Life said, but returning the bear hug.

“Josh, good to see you.  I thought we weren’t going to get together until next week, though,” Ryck said as they broke their hug.

“Eh, I’ve already been back for a week, and my sibs are driving me crazy.  It’s crazy and boring at the same time, so I told your sister I’d come into Williamson to pick you up.  It gave me a good excuse to get out of the house for a bit,” he said, back in the accent and manner of speaking he’d cultivated in the Marines, all trace of his Torritite drawl gone.

“Looking copacetic, there, Marine,” he continued, eyeing the Silver Star on Ryck’s chest.

Ryck was still self-conscious about the medal, which had been approved seven months after Luminosity.  The citation read that Ryck’s “ingenuity” and “courage” while “wounded” had cleared the way for the stalled assault to continue.  Ryck had only participated in the war for an hour, really.  He’d been picked up by a corpsman while sitting at the wooden obstacle, all fighting by then much farther inside the camp.  He’d been casevac’d back to the Prake where they immediately began the regen on his dislocated shoulder and frostbit ass.  The fighting on Luminosity took a little longer than expected due to the arms the rebels had acquired.  Ryck tried to rejoin his platoon while they were supporting the recovery of the main mines, but even with his shoulder basically set, the Navy docs wouldn’t clear him.  The dead skin on his ass and leg evidently took longer to regen for some reason, and so he was stuck on the ship while the rest of the platoon fought. 

It was a minor miracle, from Ryck’s point of view, that no one from the squad was killed.  Four PICS had been knocked out, but only the boot Prifit had been seriously hurt and put into long-term regen.  All told, the battalion had lost 21 Marines and one Navy corpsman with 28 Marines, mostly from the light platoons, going into long-term regen.  The fighting in the mines had been the fiercest of the operation, and the light platoons, in the skins and bones, had been the go-to Marines for that. 

Two men, one of the Marines from India Company and the corpsman from Fox who had been killed, had been put in for the Federation Nova, which had been approved only a couple of months ago, while another two Marines had been approved for the Navy Cross.  One of those was Sergeant Hector Phantawisangtong, King Tong, who had single-handedly blown the central bunker.  Along with the two Platinum Stars, four Silver Stars, a Legion of Merit for the colonel, and more than a few Battle Commendations of all three classes, that made the battalion one of the most decorated for a single operation since the War of the Far Reaches.  And Ryck missed most of it.

This was not false modesty.  Ryck realized that what he’d done was pretty grubbing copacetic.  But when the war stories on the two-week battle were brought out in the galley, at the club, out in town, he could just listen in.  When they gushed over King Tong’s one-man assault, with “Did you see when he . . .” or “What about when he blasted that . . .” no, Ryck hadn’t seen.  When they described the Helicon Mine going up, a suicide by the rebels inside of it just before the Marines of India entered, no, he hadn’t seen that, either.  He was already on his way back to the Prake.  He stayed on the ship, getting three hots and a cot, while the Marines slugged it out on the planet below.

“Nice stripes, too,” Joshua continued, pointing at the corporal chevrons on his sleeve.

“Shit, just in the right place at the right time,” Ryck said, uncomfortable under Joshua’s gaze.

Joshua had served his entire enlistment without one actual operation.  He’d gone to First Division, yet nothing had happened.  Ryck had three combat stars while Joshua had none. 

“Hey, no more Marine shit for now.  Let’s get you home to your sister.  You’ve got to see your nieces, cute as a grub in a rug.  The big celebrations don’t start for another two days, so you’ve got to get out of the uniform and decompress.”

This was Ryck’s first time home since he enlisted.  “Home,” though, didn’t really fit anymore.  It was where he grew up, and it was where his sister was, but not much else tugged at him.  Barret had let him know that there was a place for him in his company, a well-paying job with room for advancement.  If Ryck got out in another three months, he knew he could be set with a comfortable lifestyle.  That was one of the reasons why he took his leave back on Prophesy.  The timing also coincided with Incorporation Day.  Even with PCDC bankrupt and out of the picture, the people of Prophesy still celebrated Incorporation Day, the anniversary of when they became a legal entity.  This was a time for family and friends.

Ryck followed Joshua out into the parking and up to a brand new, shiny red Hyundai Tonora. 

“Holy gubbing shit!  This thing yours?” he asked.

“Hell no!  You know my lowly lance corporal’s salary.  This is my baby brother’s.  Only 21, and his processing company is going gangbusters.  The company is not even a year old, and look at this baby,” Joshua said, pointing at the Hyundai.

“Damn!  Sure looks like we picked the wrong line of work,” Ryck said, stepping back to take in the sleek lines of the sports hover.

“Yeah, sure did.  Caleb says he’s got a job for me in the company if I don’t re-up.  I could get one of these for myself.”

Ryck went quiet for a moment.  Talking about reenlisting was something generally off the table.  But Joshua was his friend.

“You going to take him up on that?” he asked.

“Me?  In an office?  Nah, I don’t grubbing think so.  I’m not a grubbing combat hero like you, but still, I like it, and if I stay in long enough, I’ll see some action.  Show you what a real warrior can do!” he said, punching Ryck in the arm.

Ryck was both relieved and disappointed to hear that, and he wasn’t sure why.  Ryck wanted to reenlist, and he had a good tour, but he wasn’t sure yet.  He’d lost friends, he’d had a miserable year plus in regen, but he had actually made a difference.  On the other hand, if he took Barret up on his offer, he could make a good living, find a wife, settle down, and start a family.

He dumped his pack in the Hyundai’s small trunk and slid into the passenger seat.  It felt decadent, and Ryck was in love.  That love deepened as the Tonora lifted off the pavement and slowly moved to the exit.  He knew that the hover could be almost silent, but the sound engineers for Hyundai created a low rumble, more felt than heard, that reflected the power in the car.  Lysa’s home was on the other side of Williamson, so Joshua took the ring road around the city, opening the hover up at 240 KPH.  This was better than a Stork!

Too soon, Joshua pulled