Unification (Ghost Marines Book 2) by Jonathan P. Brazee

Author:Jonathan P. Brazee [Brazee, Jonathan P.]
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub
Publisher: Semper Fi Press
Published: 2018-08-13T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 24

“There we go,” Leif said as Kyle brought back three pitchers of Dynx. “That’s better then this . . .” he paused to see if any locals were in hearing range, “this Tusker stuff.”

It wasn’t that the local Tusker beer was bad. It was actually decent, and the Marines had fulfilled their duty to sample the local cuisine—beer counted as cuisine, right?—but when there was serious drinking to be done, Dynx was the only answer.

The People had their own beer, which seemed to be a staple in most of the sentient races. Some said beer was simple parallel development, but Leif tended to the train of thought that the Mother (Proginator, Jehova, Supreme) gave beer to all the races as a token of her love. As much as he was proud of his wyntonan heritage and culture, he had to give credit where credit was due. Dynx put all wyntonan beer to shame.

Jordan downed the rest of his Tusker, then without saying a word, grabbed one of the pitchers from Kyle’s hand before he could place them on the table. He filled his stein, then downed half of it in one long gulp.

Leif held back the frown that tried to form on his face. Jordan seemed to be in a better place, but every once in awhile, he did little things like that, things a pre-hearing Jordan wouldn’t have done.

Kyle didn’t seem to take offense, however. Kyle rarely seemed to take offense at anything.

“Thanks, Kyle,” Leif said, taking one of the pitchers and filling the other corporal’s stein first, then Lori’s, before filling his own.

He took a long swallow, and the heat and sweat of the day faded even further from his memories. Not just today. All of the practices and rehearsals. What was past was past, though, and now it was time for some fun. There had been a line of buses ready to take the Marines into Nairobi, and in record time, they’d returned their weapons to the armory boxes, showered, changed, and made it to the buses. They had Cinderella liberty—all Marines had to check into one of the returning buses by midnight—which rather sucked, but for the moment, it was good enough.

Nairobi supposedly had three wyntonan restaurants with authentic food, and Leif, Jordan, and Tessa were supposed to meet up with some of the other wyntonans at one of them later on in the evening, but for now, the beer was hitting the spot.

“To a job well done!” Manu said, lifting his stein.

“Not that we had to do much, though,” Jorge Stikklestein said as he lifted his beer.

“What do you mean? I was sweating like a dog, standing out there like a damned statue.”

“Dogs don’t sweat,” Jordan said matter-of-factly before pouring himself another beer.

“What?”

“Dogs don’t sweat,” Jordan said again. “They pant with their tongues out.”

Leif looked at his friend in surprise, first that he bothered to correct Manu, and second, that he knew that about the Earth animal.

“Well, la-dee-dah,” Manu said. “How about this, then? Like a fat man porking a fat woman in a Siberian sauna.

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