Federation Marine 9: Legacy Marines by Jonathan P. Brazee

Author:Jonathan P. Brazee [Brazee, Jonathan P.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Variant Publications
Published: 2024-08-14T00:00:00+00:00

23

Esther

“Lysander, the first sergeant needs to see you,” Sergeant Orinda said, poking her head into their berthing space.

“Do you know what for?” she asked, looking up from where she was cleaning her PA-22.

“Not a clue. Go ahead and stow your weapon, though. I got the impression from him that you might be a while.”

She looked down at her skivvy shirt. Weapons cleaning could be a little messy, and her shirt was blotched with polyblack.

“Yeah, better change that first,” the sergeant said before ducking back out.

“Brown-nose,” Vixen half-coughed, half-said.

“Fuck you, too,” Esther replied without any real rancor.

She wondered why the first sergeant wanted to see her. She’d barely had four words with the man and never one-on-one. Esther whipped off her skivvy shirt, rolled it into a ball, and threw it into her laundry bag. She pulled out a new one, slipped it on, and then put on her utility blouse. After a quick check in the mirror, she smoothed her short hair, grabbed her rifle, and opened the hatch.

“Say hello to the first sergeant from me,” Vixen said.

Esther lifted her hand behind her, middle finger extended, as the hatch closed. Two minutes later, she was turning in her weapon, although she had to convince the armorer to take it, promising to come back and finish her cleaning.

Another four minutes, and she was standing tall outside the first sergeant’s office. She knocked at the hatch, and a deep, gravelly voice shouted out, “Enter!”

First Sergeant Parker was a whippet-thin Marine, supposedly able to run for hours, not that he had much chance to show that off on the station. Esther thought he looked almost like a rat, with a long, drawn-out face. His chest, when he wore his Charlies or Alphas, spoke of a very busy, very notable career, with two Silver Stars and a host of lesser awards. Now, in his utility trou and skivvy shirt, he didn’t look the part.

“Take a seat, Lysander. I’ll be wit you in a sec.”

The first sergeant had a clipped way of speaking, the “wit you” just one example. Esther would have thought a first sergeant would have a better command of the language, but then she remembered his two Silver Stars. She had a feeling that many people over the years might have underestimated him, and they probably regretted it.

He was staring at his screen, so Esther looked around the office. He had a pretty impressive I Love Me wall, with plaques and pics. One caught her eye, and she leaned forward to get a better look.

“Aye-ah. That be your pa, after Yakima 4.”

Esther stood up and moved closer. It was her father, then a colonel. Yakima 4 was where he’d stopped the Klethos, and a young Sergeant Parker was standing tall while her father pinned a Bronze Star on his chest.

“Good man, your pa.”

She sat back down, wishing she could ask what he’d done to earn the Bronze Star, and had her father merely pinned it on him, or had he been more involved with the specific action.

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