The Outwatch had been created as a joint UFR/U.S./Confederation military force with the awesome responsibility of patrolling the asteroid belt and the Jovian system. The destruction of Chicago in 2042 during a French warship’s unsuccessful attempt to drop a small asteroid on the central United States had alerted the entire world to the threat of small powers being able to nudge large rocks into Earth-intercepting orbits that would wreak incalculable havoc when they struck. No fewer than twelve large vessels were kept in solar orbit within the belt or beyond, tracking and intercepting all spacecraft that might rendezvous with a planetoid in order to alter its course…and they’d been given the responsibility for watching over Confederation interests on Europa, with the Singer excavations, as well.
With the beginning of large scale mining operations within the Belt, the Outwatch’s personnel needs had skyrocketed. There were plans to increase the Navy-Marine presence in the Belt to twenty ships within the next five years, and there would be a desperate need for Famsit One and Two personnel to man them.
But even that wouldn’t justify bringing constellation Delta Sierra 219 to Earth. Outwatch assignment needs were ongoing and long-term, typically lasting a couple of years. Any emergency need to fill an out-Solar billet could be taken care of by screening new Marines coming out of Camp Lejeune.
Which left the Ishtar crisis.
Everyone in the constellation felt the same sharp curiosity, sharing scuttlebutt and speculation with urgent fervor. Ricia and Chris DeHavilland had both already told him that they thought 219 was being tapped for command of the Ishtar relief force.
It was a pretty good bet. Delta Sierra 219 had a lot of experience under its communal belt, including command of a regiment in the Philippine Pirate War six years ago. That was before Ramsey had come aboard, but he’d downloaded all of the sims and data stores, all but experiencing directly that savage guerrilla conflict at sea and in the jungles of Luzon. They’d also done plenty of air inserts and during the past eight months on Mars had trained with the new combat suits in an extraterrestrial environment.
It was only beginning to sink in for Ramsey now. He was going to be offered a chance to go to the stars. The stars…
And with a regimental command, no less. He would be in charge of the Marine air-ground components of the MEU, probably under a general’s overall mission command. That was the sort of plum assignment that came along once in a Marine’s career, and it could well open the door to a general’s stars in his future.
“Final selections for the expeditionary command staffs are being made now,” Haslett was saying. “We should have the command teams by the end of next week. The selection boards are still reviewing the records of several general officers for Mission Command. In the meantime, all Earthside Marine Corps evolutions for Operation Spirit of Humankind will fall under the command of Major General Gabriowski.” Haslett looked off to the side. “General? Would you care to add anything?”
General Dwight Gabriowski walked across the stage to the podium, a stout, muscular man with a bullet-smooth head and a Marine DI’s scowl. Gabriowski. That clinched it, then. He was the man who’d ordered DS 219 back to Earth.
“Thank you, General Haslett,” Gabriowski said. “I don’t have much to say…except that I consider it an honor that the Marine Corps has again been called upon to lead the way. We’ve been hearing a lot lately about the Corp’s redundancy…again…and it’s a pleasure to be able to prove that we have as important a role in safeguarding our national interests, wherever they might lie, in the twenty-second century as in the twenty-first, or the twentieth, or the nineteenth. I want to add that…”
“Oh, Goddess, give me strength,” Ricia said from the couch next to Ramsey’s.
“Politics as usual,” Ramsey said. These days, it seemed that the Corps spent as much money and attention on public relations—on the delicate job of persuading each President and each session of Congress that the Marine Corps was not the anachronism its enemies claimed. “You’d think that after Garroway’s March—”
Gabriowski was still talking. “By the end of the month, we will be able to begin building the MEU from volunteer candidates Corpswide. This is an extraordinary mission, of extraordinary importance. It demands the best of our people, the very best of us, all of us together. Marines. Army. Navy. Aerospace. Ad astra!”
“Too bad he doesn’t have a full marching band playing behind him,” Ricia observed. “‘Stars and Stripes Forever’…or maybe the ‘Luna Marine March.’”