Duty, Honor, Planet

“So what’s their motivation?” Mellanby prompted, sitting on the edge of his desk. “Why hit Aphrodite?”

“They were looting the place,” Jason offered. “Maybe they’re short on processed goods, like computers and power production equipment.”

“The real question,” Shannon said, “is where they’ll hit next.”

“That’s what I want you to find out,” Mellanby told them. “The Patton is being readied for departure to Aphrodite in a week. I want your team on it. You’ll have a Marine Reaction Force at your disposal—the same one that was with you during the occupation, with reinforcements of course. There will also be a scientific team on board with a full complement of forensic researchers, also at your disposal.”

“Great,” McKay said with a chuckle. “Back to beautiful scenic Aphrodite.”

“I know it’s not much of a break,” Mellanby agreed. “But we don’t know how long we have or if they’ll strike again at another colony. I suggest you make the most of your week. Go ahead and take leave for a couple days— after you take Senator O’Keefe up on his invitation.”

“What invitation?” Jason asked, a bad feeling deep in his gut.

“The Senator has invited your team to a dinner in your honor at 1900 hours Zulu time tonight at his house— all the biggest VIP’s and the press will attend.” Colonel Mellanby chuckled. “I wouldn’t force such a fate on the enlisted, but as officers it is your duty to take advantage of this golden opportunity to afford the military a bit of positive publicity.”

“Where do I go to desert?” Jason rubbed a hand tiredly over his face.

“Cheer up,” Shannon said, nudging him. “With our recent luck, maybe his house will burn down.”

“Oh, there’s one other thing.” Mellanby raised a finger as he circled back behind his desk. Reaching into a drawer, he pulled out a pair of small, sealed plastic bags and tossed them up and down in his hand. “Your team has been given official recognition by the Department of Defense. Once you return from Aphrodite, you’ll be recruiting new members of the First Special Operations Detachment.” He tossed one of the plastic bags at McKay. “Captain Jason McKay commanding.”

Jason’s mouth dropped open as he saw that the bag contained the twin silver bars of a captain’s insignia.

“But sir…” he began to protest, coming to his feet.

“Don’t worry, McKay.” Mellanby shook his head, underhanding the other bag to Shannon. “There’ll be enough promotions and medals to go around.”

Shannon’s eyebrow shot up at the first lieutenant’s bar in the bag.

“Well, that’s more back pay I won’t have time to spend,” she mused.

“The medals will be awarded upon your return,” the Colonel explained, sitting on the edge of his desk. “There’ll be a big, public ceremony, which should make it easier to recruit troops to your new command—they’ll be volunteering in droves.”

“Colonel Mellanby.” Jason swallowed hard, glancing uncomfortably at Shannon. “Could I speak to you in private for a second?”

“Of course, Captain,” the man said. “You’re dismissed, Lieutenant Stark.”

“Yes, sir.” She saluted, casting a curious look at Jason.

“Wait for me,” he mouthed as she went out. She gave him a nod as the door closed. He took a deep breath and turned back to Colonel Mellanby.

“Out with it, son,” the Snake prompted, that almost benign look passing almost imperceptibly across his face once more.

“Sir,” Jason blurted out, “I would like to recommend that Lieutenant Stark be given command of the team.”

“And why is that?” Mellanby inquired, the set of his eyes giving a hint that he had anticipated this turn of events.

“Sir, I didn’t do shit out there,” Jason said. “I was out running around the desert with my head up my ass while she was leading those troops in an attack on the Invaders. She drove them off the planet and all I accomplished was nearly getting myself and Ms. O’Keefe killed. She’s demonstrated that she’s more qualified to hold this position than I am.”

“Is that so?” Mellanby folded his arms, regarding Jason with an amused expression. “Tell me, son, what was your stated mission on Aphrodite?”

“Well, to keep Valerie O’Keefe safe, but…”

“And is Ms. O’Keefe alive and well at this point?” Mellanby asked pointedly.

“Yes, but…”

The Colonel held up a hand. “I agree that Lieutenant Stark is a fine officer and a good leader. That’s why I recruited her. And what she accomplished on Aphrodite was admirable, as her medals will attest in the near future. But you were the commanding officer, and your duty was to keep Ms. Valerie O’Keefe safe no matter what. You did that duty against heavy odds and that’s what’s important.”

“I made mistakes,” Jason protested, shaking his head, looking away at a vision of Valerie with Huerta and his thugs assaulting her. “I made misjudgments that could have gotten people killed.” He faced the Colonel once again. “I was just lucky.”

“The Vikings had a saying, McKay,” Mellanby told him. “Better a lucky captain than a good one. Look,” he pushed off of his desk and stepped up nose-to-nose with Jason, “whatever mistakes you made back there, you overcame them and accomplished the mission. That’s part of becoming a leader—it’s part of growing up.” He clapped Jason on the shoulder, and McKay had a heartbeat’s vision of his father congratulating him after a high- school football game. “I’m counting on you to keep on accomplishing the mission… Captain McKay.”

“Yes, sir.” Jason nodded slowly. “I won’t let you down.”

“I know you won’t, son.” The Snake showed his teeth. “Because if you do, I’ll rip out your liver with my bare hands and eat it raw.”

“What was that all about?” Shannon asked him as he emerged from the office. He smiled and slipped an arm around her shoulder.

“I’ll tell you later,” he promised. “Want to go catch some lunch? Somehow, I don’t think I’m going to have much of an appetite tonight.”

* * *

“A toast.” Senator Daniel O’Keefe raised his glass with a flourish, wearing his best Campaign Smile. “To Captain McKay and his brave and resourceful band for safeguarding my Valerie’s life at great risk to their own.”

“Hear, hear!” A rumble of approval rose from the herd of VIP’s gathered around the banquet table as they came to their feet with an annoying scrape of chair legs on wooden floor.

“I’ve never been called a ‘band’ before,” Shannon muttered to Jason, seated beside her at the center of the table, their dress whites standing out like a neon sign among the collection of tuxedos and evening gowns.

“We get combat pay for this, right?” McKay wondered quietly, glancing around with growing discomfort at the famous faces surrounding him in the vast hall. These were people he’d seen only on Tri-V dramas or the news, a cosmetic surgeon’s wish-list that made him feel distinctly out of place. Hell, O’Keefe’s house was bigger than some museums he’d visited.

“I’m only sorry,” O’Keefe addressed them after the dignitaries had tipped their glasses, “that the rest of your command couldn’t be here.”

“Yes, sir,” McKay explained. “They send their regrets, but after such a long and arduous experience, they needed some time with their families before we head back to Aphrodite.”

“You’re going back?” Valerie spoke for the first time since they’d arrived at the Senator’s Calgary home. She looked, Jason thought, uncharacteristically frumpy in a loose, ankle-length gown, and her eyes seemed somehow sunken and hollow.

Jason nodded. “We’re going to be part of an investigation team to try and find out where the Invaders came from and where they’ll strike next.”

“I never want to see that damned place again,” Glen muttered, taking a long drink of champagne. He didn’t seem to be in the best of moods himself, and Jason was sure he hadn’t seen Glen and Valerie so much as look at one another since they’d arrived.

“So, Captain McKay,” Daniel O’Keefe said, leaning across the table, “what are your plans for the future? Or do