Grumble, I ‘hate’ it when I get out of sequence… Ended up getting ahead of myself, so had to move chapters around, do some rewrites, and ‘fixes’ to get the timeline back in order…

Anyhoo, stream of consciousness. Comments and recommendations appreciated!

Farg0 looked at the pile of flimsies on his desk and sighed. Pushing back from his desk, he yawned, stretched, and winced as his back popped. He grumbled to himself, “Frikken place runs on flimsies. I need to go do something, before I go nuts.”

He got up, walked out of his office and said, “Esha, I’m going to walk around for a bit. I’m getting crosseyed looking a paperwork.”

She snorted delicately. “Do you have your comm, Ekavir? Or did you leave it…”

Fargo slapped his pocket, turned around and went back into the office, returning a moment later with the comm in his hand. “Got it right here. Don’t call me unless the place is burning down. I’ll be out at the armor test range.”

Twenty segs later, Fargo stepped out of the armor building. “Thad, I still believe there has to be some way to bring armor back remotely if it has any power left, regardless.”

Thad looked up at the greenish sky and huffed out a breath. “Ekavir, we have been over this time and again. Hell, you have tried everything you know over your entire careers, and it just doesn’t work! That is why we have the cans. They at least allow you to bring back enough to bury.”

Fargo snorted. “Yeah, ashes. And who knows—”

“Ekavir, I realize you were Terran Marine and your credo is never leaving anyone behind, but a can—”

Fargo started to round on Thad when his comm chirped. He pulled it out and keyed it. “What?”

Esha said, “My, you are grumpy today. Well, I will just make you grumpier. The president is on the way here with Colonel Santos and is requesting a meeting immediately. He, they will be here in less than a div.”

Fargo sighed. “What does he want?”

“He didn’t say, or I should be more correct, he would not say, even when asked.”

Fargo grumbled, “I hope he doesn’t expect me to be dressed up. If you can send a runabout to the armor test range, I’ll be there in fifteen segs.”

“Yes, Ekavir, thank you, I’ll send Amar right now.” Esha replied.

***

Fargo barely beat President McMurtrie and Colonel Santos to his office. He had barely set down with a fresh bulb of coffee after scrubbing his face and arms in the fresher. He hadn’t bothered changing out of his undersuit, but he did get rid of the catheters, so he was at least semi comfortable when Esha announced his visitors.

Coming around his desk, he stuck out his hand. “Mr. President! Cesar, good to see both of you.”

McMurtrie blew out a breath as he shook hands. “Sorry, Ethan, but this isn’t a good trip. We have problems.”

Esha stepped in with a tray with coffee, condiments, and some pastries. “Gentlemen, sorry to interrupt, but I know Colonel Fargo hasn’t eaten.”

McMurtrie chuckled. “So he’s a bit grumpy, Esha?”

She smiled. “I didn’t say that, Mr. President.”

“You didn’t have to. The colonel and I are well aware of Ethan’s attitude issues.”

“Thank you, Esha. I will eat,” Fargo said with a smile. “Now what is going on, Rolly?” Fargo scooped up a couple of pastries and sat down on the couch.

McMurtrie took his time putting his coffee together, picked up a pastry, and sat in the chair facing the couch. “I almost don’t know where to start.” He took a bite and chewed slowly, and Fargo could almost see him making up his mind which way to go. McMurtrie looked up, then at Colonel Santos before he continued, “The current militia the Safety and Security Committee put together is a massive failure in multiple ways.”

“Multiple ways?”

McMurtrie sighed. “You know Castro basically set it up, correct?” Fargo nodded. “Well, he basically hired his hoodlums and gave them shock sticks and restraints. And they’ve been…running amok, for lack of a better term. The only place that has effective policing of any type is Castro’s area. The ones in White Beach—”

Colonel Santos interrupted. “Ethan, my troops have had multiple…battles, no other way to put it, with these hoods. We are pretty sure they have been responsible for at least three rapes downtown.”

Fargo sat up suddenly. “And you didn’t call us? Cesar, you know we’d support you!”

McMurtrie cocked his head. “Is Colonel Keads around today?”

Mystified, Fargo said, “I’m sure he’s…somewhere around. He and have different—”

“Can you get him in here?”

Fargo bit his lip. “Sure. Give me a minute.” He got up, walked to the door, opened it and said, “Esha, see if you can find Colonel Keads and ask him to join us, please.” He closed the door and went back to the couch. “Cesar, why didn’t you call us?”

McMurtrie overrode Colonel Santos. “I asked him not to, Ethan. I didn’t want to risk setting citizens against citizens.” Before Fargo could say anything, McMurtrie added, “Do you know if the Gray Lady lawgiver is still on planet?”

Fargo sipped his bulb. “Yes, Keleel’s actually here, he’s staying in the transient barracks, and visiting with a…some version of relative, who works for de Perez here in the logistics side of the camp. Why do you need him, Rolly?”

McMurtrie leaned forward. “Ethan, I, we, the planet needs your militia.” He held up a hand to still Fargo’s protest. “Before you say anything, please listen to me. Senator Alvarado was murdered last night in her home. No evidence of anyone breaking in, but the local area cameras were…offline for an hour. GalPat troops got an anonymous call about an open door and when Cesar sent a patrol there, they found her and her staff’s bodies.”

Fargo glanced sharply at Santos. “And?”

Colonel Santos replied, “It was ugly. They were all carved up in the kitchen. We aren’t sure who was first, but it appears there was a food delivery that allowed the perpetrators access. The food was still warm. Alvarado was on top of the pile…well, her head was. She…had been abused.”

“Rolly, what do you want us to do?” Fargo was interrupted by Colonel Keads knocking. “Come in, we have guests who want to talk to you, Kelly.”

Keads came in, shook hands with Santos and McMurtrie and asked, “What about?”

McMurtrie looked up at the ceiling before he started, almost like he was saying a prayer. “Ethan, Colonel, we need the militia back. Before you say no, please listen to me. I have done a good bit of research into the founding documents, and planetary security is actually the responsibility of the senior corporate officer on planet. That is me. There was no such thing as a Safety and Security committee in the original documents. A previous corporate administrator dumped that responsibility on the elected senators, but didn’t fund them.” He turned to Colonel Keads. “Colonel, I would like you to come to work for the government as the planetary security office director. The position exists, but it’s been unfilled for over 50 years. Your job would be exclusively managing planetary security, and coordinating with GalPat, nothing else. You could have a staff of up to ten, that was what was allocated in the founding documents.”

Colonel Keads said, “I’m gratified to be asked, but I already have an excellent job here as the deputy for Camp Cronin.” He turned to Fargo. “Ethan, I won’t leave you in the breach, I know how much you hate paperwork.” He smiled when he said it, eliciting chuckles in the office. Turning back to President McMurtrie, he added, “I truly appreciate the offer, but I think I will decline your kind offer.”

Colonel Santos snorted. “In other words, you don’t want to work with me?”

“Cesar, I corrupted you as much as I could when you were here before. Why should I try to exceed that level of excellence?”

Fargo laughed. “Well, he has you there, Cesar!”

McMurtrie growled, “I’m serious, people. We need the militia back. I can authorize it, fund it, and manage it.”

“Rolly, what happens when you’re not in office any longer?”

“I looked at that, Ethan. The founding document allows for ten-year, non-cancelable, non-renegotiable contracts let by the senior corporate officer. That means even if I’m voted out, you would still get ten years.”

Fargo bit the inside of his lip as he thought. This is one hell of an opportunity! And there is no question the planet needs all the help they can get. The rumor mill about Castro’s thugs has percolated all the way out here. But I need to get Lala and Druv’s input before we make any deals. He got up again, opened his door, and said, “More work, Esha, see if you can find Lal, Druv, the Kepleran Keleel and ask them to join us, please.”

Esha smiled. “Trying to make me work, Ekavir? How soon do you want them here, and wouldn’t it be better to have them join you in the mess, since I know none of you have really eaten anything of substance?”

He smiled. “You win, Esha. We’ll go to the mess.” He looked over his shoulder. “I’m being told l need to eat, and so do you. If you would like to join me in the mess, we can continue our discussion there while we wait on Lal, Druv, and Keleel.”

We went through the line like everyone else, and President McMurtrie was polite to everyone, even paying for our delayed lunch. He only asked one question. “Is the beef what I sold the camp?”

Beauregard, our chef, came out of the back when the question filtered back. “Yes, suh! Why don’t you try some of the brisket? I know you folks think it’s trash meat, but a bunch of folks here like what I do with it.” He put a couple of slices on the president’s plate, and pointed at the brownish sauce. “You might want to try a bit of that over the smoked meat. It’s something called BBQ sauce. It’s a bit spicy.”

***

Two divs later, WO Boykin came into the conference room with Lal, Druv, and Keleel. “Cactus Taxi reporting for duty, boss. I got my flight time for the month today!”

Keleel looked up at the vid screen on the wall. “What is this?”

President McMurtrie stood. “Lawgiver Keleel, this is the founding corporate document for Hunter. What you see is section nine, sub eleven, paragraph C. This is the actual authority for a security force for the planet.”

Keleel quickly pulled up a document on his datacomp. Moments later, he said, “What is the date of this document?”

McMurtrie ran his finger over the holo keyboard, all the way back to the opening page. “Here is the date, time, and approvals on the original contract with the corporation. It is the current document for this world.”

“If so, why was the Safety and Security committee in charge of security, if the actual control resides with the senior corporate officer?”

McMurtrie typed something into the holo keyboard and brought up a second document. “This is when Administrator Ash was in charge. He moved the responsibility off of himself by creating the committee. But he didn’t fund the committee. The funding stayed with the administrator’s office. Due to the sunshine law built into the founding document, it expired forty years ago since the following administrator didn’t renew it.”

Keleel nodded, lips pursed. “Therefore, nothing the committee did was legal. They were operating on an assumption of power that doesn’t exist.”

Fargo snorted. “Oh, it exists, if only in their minds.” He looked at Lal and Druv. “If we sign a new contract, would you and your folks be willing to go back to being members of the militia?”

The two of them looked at each other, and without a word, stepped out of the conference room. Fargo shook his head. “We may not get an answer anytime soon, Rolly.”

McMurtrie shook his head sadly. “I know, but dammit, people are—”

Colonel Santos interrupted, “Ethan, people are dying, plain and simple. Deity dammit, we can’t police the planet with just a company!”

Keleel asked, “Who is the planetary security officer? There is one specified in section nine, sub eleven, paragraph C two as being the director.”

McMurtrie slumped. “I don’t have one. I offered the job to him,” pointing at Keads, “But he refused. Can’t honestly say I blame him, but he is the best choice. Retired GalPat Colonel, two tours here, retired here, and works now for de Perez as the deputy for Camp Cronin.”

Lawgiver Keleel looked back at his datacomp. “Why not work here part time, and be the security officer part time. C two B provides for a staff, who would do most of the work. If we sign a contract, all he would really be doing is filing monthly reports.” He glanced down at his datacomp again. “In the last five years, there were only three instances where an investigation was required, and all of those were done by GalPat, which cleared the militia, as you know.” Looking between McMurtrie, Fargo, and Keads, he added, “Seems it would make sense, especially if the majority of, if not all of the militia, are Ghorka.” He waved an arm at the window. “Especially since this is a secure location, and I assume you live here?”

Colonel Keads nodded. “My wife and I live here, yes. She never liked living in White Beach, she was raised in the country and has never been a city girl. She spent most of our career living on one or another of our GalPat bases, so she’s…comfortable here.”

Fargo said softly, “And you figure she gets a choice now, right?”

“Yeah, she does. This is the first time. Hell, staying here was her choice, too!”

McMurtrie asked, “Colonel, would you take the job as a part time position? Maybe a day or two a month in White Beach?”

Colonel Santos said, “Colonel, we could put you up in the VIP suite a couple of days a month without a problem. Your retirement would guarantee that, and the charges would be minimal.”

Keads got up. “Let me take a walk and call Beth. I’ll let you know in a bit.” He strode out the door, reaching for his comm.

Fargo scratched an itch on his forehead. “Well, at least he’s now a maybe. But without the Ghorka, I really don’t think we could successfully deploy a militia, based on our previous failure to recruit adequate troops outside the Ghorka community.”

WO Boykin said, “If the militia starts back up, am I seconded to them again?”

Santos looked at her. “Do you want to be, Warrant?”

“Yes! At least that is productive, and I get to give the Wizard a good workout on a routine basis! Just flying testing gets boring!”

Fargo cocked his head. “Boring?”

Boykin nodded enthusiastically. “Fly the test. Do not deviate from the test plan. Document everything. Lather, rinse, repeat until we get a statistically significant number of test items completed. I never get to have any fun!” She sighed. “But at least I get to fly. That is the only good part. When I do stuff for the militia, I get to stretch my wings and the envelope of the Wizard. That is fun!”

“Stretch the envelope—”

Lal and Druv walked back in, smiling and interrupted Fargo. Lal said, “We’re in. All of the original members, and Druv has one hundred seventy volunteers to join us.”

Keleel said, “So we have a count of six hundred seventy militia members?”

Druv replied, “Pending approval and outfitting, yes.”

Fargo said, “We should have enough uniforms, weapons, and bits and pieces to do that.”

Lal asked, “You’re going to be in charge, aren’t you?”

Fargo stuttered. “Uh, I don’t know, that hasn’t—”

McMurtrie interjected, “Ethan, this is all predicated on you being the colonel in charge.” He glanced up at Lal and Druv. “I don’t see the Ghorka working for anyone else.” He glanced out the window to see Keads pacing back and forth. “All we need now is Colonel Keads.”

Colonel Santos chimed in. “I’m betting he’ll take it. Marie talks to Beth all the time and she says Beth is truly happy here, but thinks Kelly is a little bored.”

Fargo said, “Well, I probably don’t get him in the field often enough.”

***

A div later, President McMurtrie and Fargo signed a new militia contract, and Colonel Keads accepted the part time position as the Planetary Security Officer. Keleel holostamped all the relevant documents, and said, “You owe us one point two million credits per year for ten years, per the contract. Colonel Santos will provide the required materials, as delineated, and Gray Lady will provide five employees to assist the Planetary Security Office.”

Fargo leaned back. “Rolly, how are you going to make this happen? I know Castro et al are going to go bugnuts crazy over this.”

McMurtrie smiled. “I’m going to present them with a fait accompli, once you start deploying, I’ll go on the air with Jorgenson, publish the new planetary security office directive, and a copy of the new militia contract. Since Gray Lady owns all the stations, the current militia has not been using them, so easing back in should be fairly quiet.”

Colonel Santos added, “I will loan you the other attack shuttle and pilot to help deploy the militia officers back to their stations, and I think you’ve got at least one or two more pilots here, correct?”

Fargo nodded and turned to Lal. “How long to get ready?”

“Duty rosters will be published tomorrow, so day after tomorrow? And I’m pretty sure a few of the wives would love to work for planetary security.”

“So we should be live on Oneday?”

Lal nodded. “At least at the major stations.”

WO Boykin smiled broadly. “Hot damn, back to fun flying! I’ll put a deployment plan together tonight, using four shuttles.”

Colonel Keads said, “Lal, let’s talk. If I can get all ten women from your folks, that…would be perfect.”

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