Steven Kent - The Clone Republic

Captain McKay had been knocked down. He now worked out of an office near the rifle range, in the Marine compound. “Like this office?” McKay asked as he opened the hatch to let me in. He made no attempt to hide the irritation in his voice.

“You’ve got a lot more space, sir,” I said.

“Yes, it certainly is an improvement space-wise,” McKay agreed, stepping back and allowing me in. “I’ve got more than twice as much floor space as I used to have.” He looked around the room. I could not help but notice his sour expression. He pressed his lips together, and his eyes narrowed. “Couldn’t ask for more space.

“Have a seat, Harris,” McKay said, sitting down behind his desk. He stared hard at my face for a second. “You look like shit.”

Without thinking about what I was doing, I reached up and rubbed the scar over my eyebrow. “I got in a fight, sir.”

“A fight?” McKay said, sitting forward and looking concerned. “I hope I am not going to receive a misconduct report.”

“No chance of that, sir,” I said. “I entered an Iron—”

“You went to Honolulu, didn’t you?” McKay interrupted.

“Yes, sir,” I said.

“Didn’t anybody warn you about going to Sad Sam’s on Friday night?” McKay laughed. “You’re lucky to be alive, Harris.”

“Yes, sir,” I said.

McKay smiled and leaned back in his chair. “One of the good things about being a Marine, Sergeant, is that you cover your scars with a helmet when you are on duty.” He laughed. “I don’t know who did that to your face, but I hope I never run into him.”

“Yes, sir,” I said.

“Do you know why I have been given this spacious new office?” McKay asked.

“No, sir,” I said.

“It’s a demotion,” McKay said. “I’ve been moved down two decks and one million miles from command. I’m not sure if anybody has told you yet, but Admiral Klyber was transferred out.”

I could understand the bitterness in Captain McKay’s voice. Captain Gaylan McKay might have only commanded a couple of platoons; but under Klyber, he’d had access. He oversaw the color guard and had high-profile assignments. He attended briefings with generals and admirals. With Klyber no longer there to protect him, the officers that McKay had bypassed would make him pay dearly.

“Has Admiral Thurston taken command of all three Scutum-Crux Fleets?” I asked.

McKay laughed, and the full weight of his bitterness showed. “No. I’m not sure Klyber would have relinquished command to the boy. Admiral Huang is overseeing Scutum-Crux in the interim.”

“Huang?”

“So far he’s been running the Scutum-Crux Arm from DC.” McKay seemed to take comfort from my shock. “Thank God for small miracles. I get the feeling Huang wanted this post all along. He and Thurston march in perfect lockstep. I think old Che Huang wanted Barry out and Thurston in before he took over. Now that he has what he wants, all we can do is sit back and see what he does with it.”

“When did Admiral Klyber leave?” I asked.

“He was gone before we landed on Hubble,” McKay said. “I did not hear about the change until a week ago. It’s a different fleet now. Did you see the new ships when you flew in?”

“Yes, sir,” I said. “I never thought I would see battleships in the Central Fleet.”

“Yes,” said McKay. “And minesweepers, and communications ships. You don’t gin ships out of thin air. Huang and Thurston must have had them ready before Klyber transferred out.

“We got another present from Huang—new men. We’re back up to two thousand three hundred sea-soldiers on board the Kamehameha .”

“That’s a step in the right—”

“And we have three new platoon sergeants. They’re Liberators,” McKay said.

“I met one,” I said, “Sergeant Lector.”

“That would be First Sergeant Booth Lector,” McKay said, rubbing the sides of his head as he spoke. “That one is

a piece of work. He’s probably the worst of them.”

“The worst?” I asked.

“He took your platoon from Grayson a few days after you left. He came in the same day we got the new drill schedule. I don’t suppose you’ve seen it.”

“I saw it,” I said.

“The drill schedule came down from Thurston’s office. Admiral Thurston is an officer who never leaves anything to chance.”

“Where did he find three Liberators?” I asked.

“Where did Admiral Thurston find the ships?” McKay asked, stepping out from behind his desk. He walked over to his shelves and looked at a model of the Kamehameha . “Where did he get the new ships? Where did he get the new officers? Harris, Thurston does whatever Huang wants, and Huang gives Thurston anything he needs. The bastards have an unholy alliance.”

Turning back toward me, he added, “You need to watch your back around these Liberators, especially Lector. He’s just plain nasty. Two of your men have ended up in sick bay after hand-to-hand combat training, and it turns out that both were sparring with him.”

“How bad?” I asked.

“One had a dislocated shoulder. The other had a broken wrist. They both came in with concussions. Frankly, neither of them looked nearly as bad as you do.”

McKay walked around his desk, then sat on the edge of it. “I’m afraid that I’m not going to be much help to you. Under the restructuring, I’ve been assigned to other duties besides your platoon.”

“Understood, sir,” I said.

“I’ve had a look at Lector’s files,” McKay said. “I’m surprised he hasn’t been executed. Do you know anything about New Prague?”

I thought for a moment. The teachers at U.A. Orphanage #553 seldom talked about military crimes, but New Prague was too big to ignore. “That was the massacre, the one in which an entire colony was wiped out.”

“Albatross Island?” McKay asked.

“The prison planet,” I said.

“Did you ever hear about the uprising?”

“Every prisoner was killed,” I said. “Even the guards were killed.”

“Dallas Prime? Volga? Electra?”

“All massacres where U.A. forces lost control of their troops,” I said. “Officers ended up in jail for those battles.”

“Those were the first battles after the victory in the Galactic Central War. Those were the battles that convinced Congress to outlaw Liberators. Lector fought in every one of them. So did Marshall and Saul.”

“Are Marshall and Saul the other Liberators?” I asked.

“Yes. Tony Marshall and Clearance Saul.

“I don’t know where Thurston found three Liberators. It’s almost like he collects certain kinds of soldiers. He’s big on SEALs and Liberators.”

“SEALs, sir?”

McKay returned to his seat. “Just before I got moved down hear, I heard that Admiral Thurston put in for ten full squads of SEALs. The way things are going, I think Huang has to be behind all of this, and that can’t be good for either of us. I get the feeling that Admiral Thurston wants the remnants of Klyber’s old fleet swept under the rug, if you know what I mean.”

The Kamehameha separated from the rest of the fleet without any warning. One night I went to the rec room and watched the new ships through the viewport. When I returned the next day, all I could see was stars. Thanks to Thurston’s mania for security, nobody knew where we were going. Even Vince’s gym buddies were in the dark.

We spent three days traveling to the nearest broadcast disc station, during which time Command did not see fit to release information. My men started getting nervous. They were ready to fight, but they wanted to know something about the enemy. I had a hunch that we might attack the Japanese refugees of Ezer Kri. Huang and several politicians spent a lot of time trying to convince the public that these “ethnic purists” were a dangerous enemy. I did not think the Japanese were a threat and I did not want to hunt them down.