Crisis Memes - 5 - Tue 05 Aug 2256 18:00

“So, Mr McLaren, I hear that you’re an ex-Royal Marine. Aren’t you just a little shorter than regulation?” Major Allason asked.

Standing in front of the Majors desk, five feet seven inches tall in his boots, Bruce struggled against the urge to come to attention.

“I lied about my height, m’aam” he replied.

The Major tightened her lips to prevent a smile appearing. “Oh, a comedian,” she said; then more thoughtfully, “The only time we recruited anyone as short as you was during the Varghese campaign, when we needed all the people we could get. Were you perhaps on that little adventure Mister McLaren?”

“I was indeed, m’aam. Decorated twice for delivering mince and tatties to ten thousand Marines defending the moon of Beta Geminorum b. I have a tattoo confirming the fact, though most ladies would blush to see it.”

“Don’t make the mistake of thinking I’m a lady, mister. Seriously now, only one supply convoy that got through that blockade, and then the crew dug in with the defending troops and held out for another three months. There were a record number of VC’s awarded. McLaren… Sergeant McLaren? Sergeant ‘Badger’ McLaren?”

Bruce nodded. Undoing the top buttons of his shirt he pulled out a bronze medal in the shape of a cross. He noted that the Major’s eyes widened slightly.

The Varghese campaign had been the biggest military engagement that depopulated Earth fought after the USA had abandoned the home planet in favour of the remote Deneb Cygni system. The Royal Space Marines had led the counter attack against the high-tech military might of the dictator Jonas Varghese, and after a hard campaign the Earth forces had finally won the day. The successful defence of the bridgehead on the moon of Beta Geminorum b was the turning point of the campaign.

“Why is someone like you is travelling to Tintagel?” Allason asked.

“No great mystery Major. I’ve signed up for the King Arthur Show. Sir Gaheris, son of King Lot of Orkney, at your service.” He bowed.

“Hmm. Interesting work, no doubt. Well now, Mr McLaren, you’ll be aware that the Royal Space Marines have the right to recall you for duty in times of grave need. Based on your own experience, it sounds like we’ve got a pack of homicidal Terraformers prowling around the lower decks, so this counts as just such an eventuality. You are hereby recalled. Please collect a uniform and a weapon from the quartermaster. Have you anything to say Sergeant McLaren?”

Bruce tucked his medal back inside his shirt.

“Yes M’aam. With the greatest of respect I’d like to say ‘No Thanks.’ I’ve done my bit for King and Earth - and King and Earth did their bit for me, no complaints - but I’ve been a lazy civilian for more than eight years, and I’m well past my sell-by date. Do you not see how grey my hair is?”

“That’s just nonsense, and your hair was famously grey ten years ago. Look - Bruce - I’ve got two thousand troops on board - top quality recruits as you’d expect, but most of them haven’t even seen their twenty-first birthday, and I’ve already got sixty of them in the brig on disciplinary charges. If you want the full update on the ships status then I’ll give it to you later - but it’s pretty bleak. It’s going to be a tough tour, and it’s essential that the Marines stay in control by any means possible. It might get messy, and I could really use the support of a genuine war hero.”

Bruce took a breath and looked closely at the Major, noting the rapid, shallow breathing, and the dark rings around her eyes.

“Besides, what have you got to lose,” she continued. “You’ll just be playing at Knights and Dragons for the rest of your life when we eventually arrive at Tintagel.”

There were things Bruce should have told her, but this didn’t seem like a good time.

“Well ma’am, it looks like you’re making me an offer I can’t refuse, though I’m not sure how much use an extra sergeant will be to you.”

“That’s a good point, and I need a man on my command team who knows how to make quick decisions under pressure. How about a field promotion to Lieutenant, effective immediately?”

“With pay back-dated to the first of the month?”

“Yes, but forgive me if the paperwork takes a while to get approved.”

Bruce could not prevent himself from saluting smartly.