Major (The United Federation Marine Corps Book 5) by Jonathan P. Brazee Read Free Book Online

from the ship’s maneuverability and used power that could be routed to the shields. 
    Ryck only half-listed as the ship’s XO reported to the commander on the Path of Glory .  That ship would have been monitoring the situation, but the XO was giving details and letting the task force commander know what the LCDR Nuzzi intended.  Both the CT-83 and the target ship, which looked to be a clipper, were speeding away from the Sisyphus, and as the task force had not pacified the station yet, the target ship was the CT-83’s concern for at least the immediate future.
    “Wish I could be down with the deca,” Ryck whispered to Bill.
    “Not me!  I’m fine here on the bridge,” Bill replied.  “I’m happy to give you grunt-types ground support, but scooting around in vacsuits, in open space?   No, not for me.”
    “Hell, you’re Army, Bill, you should love this.”
    “Army pilot, not grunt.  I knew who my father was.”
    Ryck rolled his eyes at the old retort, one that had to go back to Babylonian times.  He didn’t have a handy comeback, so he left it at that.  He’d probably think of one in a couple of hours.
    Ryck leaned back against the bulkhead.  The ships artificial gravity was set at .75 g, but tiny fluctuations made it seem more than that, and he wished he had a seat.
    Grubbing hell, Ryck.  Man up.  You’re a grunt, and you were in recon, and now you’re moaning about your feet? he thought, pushing himself back up off the bulkhead to stand unassisted.
    He stood quietly while the distance between the two ships closed.  There was no change in the target that the CT-83’s sensors could pick up, but tension remained high.  The target ship still had to be taken.
    At 1,000 km separation, the skipper ordered the deca to mount up.  Ryck really wanted to get down to the hangar deck to watch the launch, but he knew that would not be approved.  And as a Marine, he understood that the soldiers would not need some foreign officer, a former enemy at that, watching over them as they prepared.  Professional courtesy, if nothing else, dictated that he stay out of their way.
    Finally, the CT-83 slowed down the closing range and stopped only four kilometers from the target ship.  “Stopped” was relative, though.  Both ships were hurtling away from the Sisyphus and the two other Confed ships at .36c.  But relative to each other, they seemed to hang motionless in space.
    “Launch the boarding party,” the skipper ordered.
    A “deca” was supposedly a 10-man squad, but with Lt(jg) Kinkelly in command of the mission, there were 11 soldiers and the one naval officer on the carruca that launched out of the hangar deck and started crossing over to the target.
    “Send it,” the CO ordered.
    “Unidentified vessel, this is the Confederation of Free States vessel CT-83 .  We have disabled your propulsion system and order you to stand down.  We are sending over an armed boarding party, and you are ordered to surrender to that party for inspection.  Our actions are in compliance with Joint Universal Declaration 3008.453 and CFS Security Code 700934.  Please respond with our intentions,” the comms officer passed to the target ship.
    There was no response, not that Ryck expected any.  If that was an SOG vessel, it would probably fight to the death before surrendering.  The clipper was not very big, and if it had hostages, that would limit the number of SOG soldiers that could be onboard.   Still, even a handful of pirates could make things difficult for the Confed deca on its way.
    The comms officer repeated the message twice more before the skipper cut him off.  With the carruca approaching the ship, it was getting to be go time.  Ryck leaned forward in anticipation, more than just a mere spectator.  He was putting himself with those Confed soldiers, thinking through what he would do.
    At less than 200 meters, a flash filled the screen, momentarily burning out the display.  Ryck took several steps