Esther cut through the bulk of her classmates, steering clear of the edges where she could be picked off. Half-a-dozen classmates stopped her to shake and offer congratulations, but as more and more classmates left and were pounced upon by Marines, her path to escape was getting narrower.
She finally broke away from Alvey Goins and focused straight ahead, refusing to meet the eyes of anyone as she tried to cover the last 25 meters to the statue. She could see two Marines in her peripheral vision break off to cut her off, but she picked up her pace, refusing to turn her head until she reached the base of the statue. She looked quickly at the face of the hero of old, then turned around to see who’d be saluting her.
With a look of victory in his eyes, a corpsman rushed up, his arm cocked to whip into a salute.
“As you were, Doc. She’s mine,” a voice called out with authority.
The corpsman stopped, and it looked like he was going to argue, but with a wry smile, nodded, and turned back to the remaining pack of new second lieutenants.
Esther slowly turned around. Shocked would be an understatement.
Emerging from the other side of the statue, Noah, in his dress blues, stood tall. He came to a position of attention, then slowly brought up his hand in a salute.
“Congratulations, ma’am!” he said, his face carved in stone.
Esther stood there, her mouth open, and when Noah didn’t move, she remembered to return the salute. Noah brought his down smartly.
“How. . .what. . .how did you get here?”
“By spaceship. That’s the usual way, ma’am, you know.”
“But you’re at Camp Ceasare!”
“And no ships ply the space lanes from there to here? And I’m not at Ceasare any longer. I’ve already been assigned. I sent you a whispergram to tell you that.”
“You did? Well, I’ve been . . . I mean, with NOTC and everything, I don’t check my personals often. I’m sorry. But why come all the way here? I mean, that had to cost a pretty credit.”
“You have to ask? You’re my sister, Esther. We only have each other. You needed family here for this.”
Esther was confused. She and Noah had very little communication since she left Wayfarer Station. It simply boggled her mind that he’d come all this way just to see her get commissioned.
“How did you know I’d come to the statue for my first salute? That someone wouldn’t grab me sooner?”
“As I said, Ess, you’re my sister. You’re my twin. I know you. Of course, you’d come to where Dad got his, and no one was going to get in your way for that. I saw you marching over, a woman on a mission. I’m surprised that corpsman even got as close to you as he did.”
“Well, I guess you’re right. And I guess I owe you this,” she said, pulling the Kookaburra Dollar out of her pocket and handing it to him.
Noah gave it only a glance before a satisfied smile crept over his face. He slipped it into his pocket.
“I was hoping that’s what it would be, but I looked online. A 2123 Kookaburra’s pretty hard to find.”
“I . . . well, you know.”
“Yeah, Ess, I know.”
The two stood looking at each other for a moment, the silence growing longer.
Finally, Noah broke it with, “There’s one more thing. Miriam and I are getting married, and we’d love you to be there. It’s up to you, though. I know you’ll be busy snapping in with your platoon.”
He said it matter-of-factly as if it was no big deal, his gaze shifting to the ground at her feet. But just as he’d said he’d known her because they were twins, so did she know him. He cared—deeply.
Esther didn’t want to go. She had mixed feelings about Noah’s marriage. She’d barely seen Miriam at the PX back on Wayfarer Station, and she thought Noah might be grasping at the first lifeline thrown at him. And he was right. She would be joining her first platoon, and she didn’t want to take off on leave before she’d even settled in. It wasn’t professional.
But when she looked at him, a piece of her wall that she’d erected after they’d both enlisted broke off. She still thought the Corps was not for him. She still sensed the wall keeping them from the relationship they’d once had. But he was right. They were family, the only family they had. Well, the only family she had. Noah was still in close contact with their mother’s extended family, and he would soon have his own family, it seemed.
“When is it? And where?”
“May 4. On Prophesy. So, you know, Grandmama can help.”
“Help, Noah? You mean take over,” she said, a smile breaking through.
“OK, she’ll take over the entire thing,” he said with a small chuckle while looking up from the ground to her face.
“And May 4? Aren’t we copying our parents a little much here? Me with General Salizar and the Kookaburra, you on Mom and Dad’s anniversary?”
“Just like where you had to enlist Ess? In the same recruiting station where Father enlisted? We’re just like each other, in so many ways.”
Only some. We are so different in others, Esther thought but kept that unspoken.
May 4th was still a long ways off. She was surprised Noah was willing to wait that long, but if their grandmother were involved, she’d want a full ceremony. The more she thought about it, the more she was sure the wedding had been taken out of his hands.
Oh, Noah, you can’t even control your own destiny!
“I tell you what, Noah. I don’t’ know my deployment schedule yet. I’ve been assigned to 2/14.”
Still in the Outer Forces. Can’t sniff anything close to Tarawa, she thought with resignation.
First Marine Division, headquartered in Tarawa, was the lifeblood of the Corps, and Esther wanted to be assigned to the division so badly she could taste it. But the powers-that-be seemed bound and determined to let her develop far from the attention given to Tarawa-based units.
“Ah, the Lagunari,” Noah said. “Good unit.”
It took a moment for Esther to switch gears before realizing he was mentioning her new battalion’s patron, the Italian Marines.
“The what? ‘La-goon-ary?’”
“The Lagunari Serenissima. One of old Italy’s two Marine units. Two-fourteen chose the Lagunari as their name, but adopted the San Marco Brigade’s motto, let me remember, something like ‘Per Mare, Per Terram.’ Do you know, the Lagunari were Army, not Marine or Naval Infantry? The San Marco Brigade was Navy, but not the Lagunari. It’s one of only two Army patrons in the Corps today.”
Esther looked at Noah in wonderment. Where had this thirst for history come from? Their father had been a history buff, but Esther hadn’t known Noah might have developed the same fascination. Esther didn’t care much for history. She studied battles of old, but the whole patron system within the Marine Corps infantry battalions, with each battalion adopting one of the 48 extant Marine Corps that had formed the Federation Marines, while it had political advantages, really had little impact on each battalion’s ability to fight. Esther was going to 2/14, but Noah had just told her more than she’d known, or really cared to know, about her battalion’s patron Marine Corps.
“OK, um, good to know,” she told him. “But back to your question, I don’t know my schedule, but if we’re not deployed, and if I can get leave, I would be honored to attend your wedding.”
“It’s OK. I under . . . oh, you’ll make it?”
“It’s not a promise, Noah. But I’ll try. You know the Corps, though. Remember how many times Dad missed birthdays and anniversaries?”
“Yeah, yeah, of course, I know,” Noah said, excitement in his voice. “But thanks, Ess. It’ll make Grandmama happy . . . no, strike that. It’ll make me happy.”
“You’re my little brother, Noah,” she said, using her being born nine minutes before him to claim the title of older sister. “Of course I’ll be there.”
A sergeant saw Esther standing by the base of the general’s statue and started over, arm cocked to salute before he saw Noah and dejectedly
turned to find a yet un-saluted lieutenant.
“It’s a little late for that,” Noah said as they both laughed and watched the sergeant’s retreating back. “You’ve got to get an earlier jump on things.”
Esther turned around to the grass where they’d been commissioned. A handful of her classmates were still there; many more were in the process of leaving.
“I think you’re right. But, I need to get going. I’ve got a property pick-up in about an hour, and I’m not packed yet.”
“You know, they only allow you two seabags,” Noah said, his eyes glinting with mischief as he referred to her penchant for traveling with a wardrobe of clothes
And old penchant. The Corps had broken her of that habit.
“I don’t carry that much!” Esther protested. “And now that I’m an officer, I get a load-out box, too.”
“Lucky for you. I’m betting it’s still not enough,” he said, still teasing.
“You’d better watch it, Sergeant! I could always order you to pack my stuff for me and carry it to TMI.”
The humor faded from Noah’s eyes.
Crap! I just blew it.
Their lighthearted banter, something they hadn’t shared for six years, was over. Esther had just reminded them of the gulf that now separated them. She was an officer, and he was a sergeant. It shouldn’t matter, but it did—at least for now. The wall that Esther had erected between them now had another level added to it.
“Well, Ess. Lieutenant Ess,” Noah said, forcing a smile on his face. “I need to get going. I’ll let you get your things ready. Congratulations. Really. Mother and father would be proud.”
He stepped forward, and the two awkwardly hugged. Their stiff dress blues were not the only reason for that.
“Thanks for coming, Noah. It was good to have family here. And I’m proud my first salute was from you.”
“I couldn’t miss this,” he said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out the Kookaburra Dollar.
He came to attention again and gave his best drill field salute, which wasn’t all that great, Esther had to admit. She pulled herself to attention and gave him her best salute in return.
“Well, OK. I guess I’ll see you in May?” Noah said as he turned to walk away.
“Hey, Noah!” Esther said after he’d taken several steps. “When are you leaving to go back?”
“My shuttle’s at 0530.”
“Unless you’ve got something else to do, why don’t you meet me for dinner? I’m going to eat at the Globe and Laurel with one of my classmates. His great-grandfather will be there. He was a Marine in the War of the Far Reaches, and his grandson—my friend’s father—fought with Dad.”
“I . . . I’d like that, Ess. But . . .” he said, trailing off as he pointed to the chevrons on his sleeve.
“Screw that. We’re family. And Mr. Upshick was a corporal when he served. We’re all Marines, right?”
“Well, right. But—”
“But nothing. Twenty-hundred, OK?”
Noah only hesitated a moment before he shrugged and said, “Twenty-hundred it is. See you then, Ess.”
He turned around and walked off, but with more spring in his step.
The wall between them was still there, but Esther thought it now had a crack in it.
REISSLER QUAY
Chapter 3
“Hello?” Esther asked, sticking her head through the hatch. “Anyone here?”
She was met with a resounding silence. Shrugging, she stepped into the small office. “Small,” was relative, though. With 2/16 on Wayfarer Station, the platoon offices were any clear spot between the platoon commanders’ bunks. Here at Camp Salcedo, there was more than enough space to spread out, and each platoon had an actual office, complete with two desks and two small couches.
Esther had reported to Regiment two hours ago, meeting with the regimental XO, first, then over to the battalion headquarters to meet the CO. Each had given her the typical welcome-aboard-the-best-unit-in-the-Corps-work-hard-and-you-will-do-fine speech. Neither man mentioned her father, but she could tell the regimental XO was aching to do so. She’d bet the man had served under her father, and she was pretty sure she’d hear about it sometime. But she was also cynical enough by now to believe that all of the command had been directed to treat her like any other boot lieutenant. She’d been spared meeting the company commander, who was getting his annual physical, so she’d headed directly to the First Platoon office.
Her platoon.
She’d meet the skipper later that afternoon, but for now, she wanted to meet her Marines, starting with Staff Sergeant Conrad Fortuna, her platoon sergeant. But the staff sergeant was nowhere to be seen. She checked her PA. It was 1005, too early for noon chow. The battalion commander had told her Kilo Company was in garrison this week, so she knew he should be around.
She shrugged and took a look around the office. On one side, holes peppered the bulkheads, evidence of the plaques and pics that must have adorned it. Behind the desk, a pic of the chairman shared space with one of the commandant. Half a dozen frames hung from the third bulkhead. Esther put her AI on the empty desk, then took a few steps to look at her platoon sergeant’s I Love Me wall. There was a copy of his warrant to staff sergeant taking center stage, right at eye-level. The rest were flat pics. One had a young sergeant posing with three civilians. She looked back towards the hatch to see if anyone was watching, then touched the bottom of the pic. Green identity squares immediately appeared around the four people’s faces. The sergeant, not surprisingly, was Fortuna. Two of the people were flunkies—high-level flunkies, but flunkies none-the-less. The fourth person was Kenneth Détente, Federal Administrator. Esther had no idea who Détente was, but a federal administrator would be the senior federal official on a given planet.
The other pic that caught her eye was a group shot of eight young Marines: seven men and one woman. All were in t-shirts, all had their weapons displayed, most in the casual rifle butt to their hips that combat Marines seemed to gravitate to. Esther didn’t already need to know that her platoon sergeant had been a sniper. The rifle cartridge hung around each of their necks was evidence enough. The fact that all eight in the pic had their “boar’s tooth” was impressive. Esther knew only snipers who’d made their first kill rated them.
A younger Conrad Fortuna stared straight ahead into the lens, a tiny smile bending the corner of his mouth. He looked confident and ready for battle, which made sense. Esther had already pulled up his records. As a corporal, Fortuna had earned a Silver Star during the Evolution, compiling 14 kills.
Esther knew she was an outstanding Marine. She was combat-proven, as her own Navy Cross attested. But commanding a platoon wasn’t something she’d done before, and she knew having a competent platoon sergeant would hasten her learning curve while simultaneously keeping her out of trouble. And from what she could glean from his records, she’d hit the jackpot with hers.
The front hatch opened with a crash, and Esther spun around. A sergeant stumbled in, holding a large supply pack in front of him. He started to put it down on one of the couches when he noticed Esther standing there.
“Oh, sorry, ma’am! I didn’t see you!” He put the pack down, then stepped towards her, hand out. “I’m Sergeant Ngcobo. Charlie Ngcobo. I’m your First Squad leader. And I know who you are, ma’am, and we’re happy to see you.”
Sergeant Ngcobo was slightly shorter than Esther, but he probably had 30 kg on her—and not 30 kg of rippling muscles. He was slightly dumpy, reminding Esther of nothing more than a penguin. The hand that reached out was almost a tannish shade of gray, but his face was a mottled brown, with even darker freckles showing through on his complexion. His ice-blue eyes somehow seemed to be both piercing and vacant of thought at the same time—two attributes that were diametrically opposed. He was certainly one of the more unique-looking people she’d ever seen.
She took his hand and said, “Nice to meet you, Sergeant,” while trying not glance from his hand to his f
ace. She couldn’t help but notice that his left hand was more in line with his facial complexion.
“I’m Lieutenant Lysander.”
“Yes, ma’am, I know. We’re all proud that you’re with us.”
Proud of what? That I’m my father’s daughter?
Esther was proud of her father, and his memory was the force that drove her to excel. But she was also sensitive to others projecting her father’s accomplishments onto her.
“Well, I’m proud to be here, too,” she said, spouting the expected response. “Do you know where Staff Sergeant Fortuna is? I’d like to meet him before I meet the rest of the platoon.”
Something passed over the sergeant’ eyes for the briefest of instances before he said, “Ah, he’s around, ma’am. Probably taking care of platoon business. We’re in garrison now, after two weeks in the field.”
“Yes, I know. The CO told me. But there are still schedules in garrison. Where’s today’s POD?”[4]
“Uh, I’m not sure ma’am. I’ve been on a mission, but I think this morning was for haircuts, PX runs, things like that.”
The sergeant was smiling earnestly, but something didn’t ring true, something Esther couldn’t quite put her finger on. She decided to ignore whatever was scratching at her brain for attention.
“Mission? That supply pack?”
“Oh, yes, ma’am,” he said, sounding relieved to move to another subject. “I had to pick up vix for the platoon.”
“Vix? For everyone at once?”
The V106 was the battery pack for the M99 assault rifle. It powered both the sight display and the magnetic rings that pulled the darts down the barrel, accelerating them to hyper-velocity. They were rechargeable with a usage life of over a thousand cycles. It didn’t seem likely that every vix in the platoon reached their end-life at the same time.
“Uh, we’ve had problems with the ones we had. They weren’t holding their charges long enough. But the armory kept testing them and saying they were OK, so supply wouldn’t replace them.”
Esther's Story: Recon Marine (The United Federation Marine Corps' Lysander Twins Book 2) Page 4
