“I agree, but that means we have to have a broad array of experiences, right? I mean, we shouldn’t stick with the same things we’ve already done.”
“I was wondering if you were going to come to see me about that.”
“You were?” Esther asked, confused.
“Yes, I saw you with Captain Vansant this afternoon. She’s pretty impressive.”
Oh, crap! He thinks I want to go to recon!
“And to answer your question, by all means, you should experience as much as you can. You’ve got two years with the platoon, and maybe it’s time you experienced something else. I know you’ve told me you don’t want armor or air, so recon would be a good choice while still keeping within the infantry.”
A good choice? Did he say a good choice?
“But sir,” she blurted out. “Recon’s well, it’s recon. It’s a dead end for officers.”
“Your father was in recon, and I think things turned out OK for him.”
But he got a Federation Nova out of it. That wouldn’t hurt anyone’s career.
“He’s one of the few, with all due respect, sir. I understand that recon is important to the Corps, and to the Federation, too. With MARSOC, well, we’re doing more and more non-conventional warfare—”
“Which sounds pretty exciting to me. “
“Well, yes, sir,” she admitted, realizing that she meant it.
“And with the Klethos war, with the rise of unconventional warfare, the MARSOC community should only increase in operational tempo.
“You’ve had two major battles during your two years. How many other platoons have had even one?”
“Fox’s Second Platoon had one, and . . . uh . . . well, maybe that’s it,” she said.
“Esther, your career to date has been remarkable, and that’s not even considering your Navy Cross. If you want to experience recon, I don’t think it will hurt your career. In fact, I would say it would help you. As you become senior, it could give you a better perspective on how operators function.
“If you came here to ask me for a recommendation, of course, I’ll approve it, although I don’t think that would be necessary. I saw Captain Vansant lassoing you. They want you, I’m sure.”
Esther hadn’t come in to see the skipper to talk about recon, at least she didn’t think she had. She wanted the PICS platoon, right? But the challenge of becoming a recon Marine was intriguing. Maybe her subconscious had wanted to discuss it with Captain Hoffman.
The challenge. That was the rub, though. Esther was athletic and capable. But so were many other women who hadn’t been able to get through the course. Most men couldn’t.
“Sir,” she started quietly, “but what about the drop rate? I mean, if I can’t make it?”
“If you can’t, you can’t. Neither can most Marines. Colonel Singh washed out of RTC as a captain, and he’s done pretty well for himself.”
And rumor has it he won’t pick up a star.
“Uh, don’t pass that around. I think I just let slip some confidential information.”
“I won’t, sir.”
But if it’s OK to try and fail, then why not pass it around? You’re telling me it doesn’t matter.
“You won’t know what you can and can’t do until you try, Esther. And I have confidence in you.”
“Would you try?”
“I’d like to think I would. I’ve got orders to Tac 2, so those take priority, but after that? If they wanted an old fart like me? Who knows?”
She could understand that. Tactical Warfare II was a required course for post-command captains and majors that had to be taken for any chance at lieutenant colonel or colonel-level command.
Esther realized that she’d been mulling over Captain Vansant’s words all afternoon and into the evening. That was probably why she’d been a little listless. Something was missing.
“Thank you, sir. You’ve been a big help. I appreciate your advice.”
“Any time, Esther. Well, not now. I’m late, and Katie’s going to kill me, so I’ve got to run.”
Esther thought the skipper’s wife had to have the patience of a saint. Captain Hoffman was almost always running late.
She stood by while the captain turned off his desk PA. Together they walked down the passage and to the entrance where the duty Marine jumped back up to attention.
“At ease, Lance Corporal Tennyson. You can log us out for the night.”
The duty was from Echo Company, yet Captain Hoffman called him by name. It wouldn’t have been hard to query his PA to get the lance corporal’s name, but Esther hadn’t bothered to consider it. Now she felt embarrassed that she hadn’t.
“Have a good night, Esther,” the skipper said as they reached the walkway. “Let me know what you want to do, and I’ll support your decision.”
“Thank you, sir. You have a good night, too.”
She stood there, watching the captain stride away towards the parking lot.
Recon? Would it be worth it?
She realized that she’d never managed to bring up the PICS.
Chapter 15
“Holy Apples, Nok. Let him up for air,” Steel said in mock dismay.
Bull broke his kiss and looked to Steel with a self-satisfied grin plastered on his face. The Echo Company lieutenant had to mass 120kg. Nok was maybe 40kg soaking wet, and sitting on his lap, she still had to crane her head up to mack with him.
Esther rolled her eyes and pointed at the half-full pitcher.
“How about filling me up, boot,” she said to brand new Second Lieutenant Gaylord Lincoln Masterson Nobo, IV.
Yes, there’d been three other Gaylord Lincoln Masterson Nobos. Esther was surprised there had even been one saddled with such a pretentious name. It was straight out of the Bollywood School of Bad Casting and Writing.
Nobo was technically Nok’s replacement, but he wasn’t getting the PICS platoon. Steel had moved up to Weapons when Patel had received orders, Second Lieutenant Jerome “Fish” Knightly had taken over Third, and now Captain Hoffman had shifted the PICS mission to the platoon.
Esther felt a twinge of regret, looking at Fish, who was deep into conversation with Monica Dupuis. He was a good lieutenant, and Esther was sure he’d do well. But she’d still have liked time in PICS as well.
The battalion officers had met at the O’Club for a hail and farewell earlier in the evening. Two lieutenants, to include Nobo IV, and a captain had come aboard that week. And the CO had introduced them before they each had the floor. Nobo IV had given his full name, to include the “IV,” which had elicited a laugh from the other officers. Nobo IV had to be used to it. He’d made it to staff sergeant before getting his commission, so he wasn’t some wet-behind-the-ears recruit, yet he still willingly entered the lions’ den. Either he was oblivious to societal norms, or he just didn’t care and was making a statement. Esther wasn’t sure which, nor did she care much, if she was being honest.
Two officers were leaving. Nok had her orders, and she’d ship out on Saturday. She gave her speech, the CO gave her her plaque, and then the lieutenants gave her the traditional gag gift—in Nok’s case, a basketball and step ladder. A sign on the ladder read “For Dunking.” Nok had scrambled up the ladder and executed a wicked windmill dunk, slamming the ball to the deck—and which still wouldn’t have reached a regulation rim.
“Hey, Lysander, good luck,” Greg Yashua said, putting his hand on Esther’s shoulder. “I’m taking off, so if I don’t see you . . .”
“Hey, Greg. Thanks. Take it easy.”
She reached behind her and pulled out her plaque, running her finger over the engraving. The battalion emblem of the burning lion, a book in its paws and crossed swords and an anchor behind took up most of the shield-shaped plaque. Above the emblem, the words “Second Battalion, Fourteenth Marines” were emblazoned in an arc with “Serenissima” in smaller letters underneath. Esther’s attention was on the smaller brass inlay under the emblem on which was engraved,
FIRST
LIEUTENANT ESTHER LYSANDER, UFMC
7 March 412 to 9 July 414
“Per Mare, Per Terram”
Esther had been the second officer leaving the battalion. She hadn’t been as eloquent as Nok had been, and she just wanted to get it over with. But when the CO had handed her the plaque, she’d been struck with the heavy weight of tradition for maybe the first time in her life. Her father had understood it. Noah understood it. But tradition hadn’t been important to her before. Looking at the emblem, which she now knew was taken from the both the old Lagunari Battalion and the San Marco Brigade, she felt the connection reaching back more than 700 years, and with her name on the plaque, that made her part of that tradition. She knew all of this on an intellectual level, but for the first time, she felt is on a visceral level.
The platoon had chipped in to get her plaque as well, which they’d presented to her that morning. She appreciated it, probably more than the battalion plaque. It had been given freely by her Marines, after all, and that made it personal. But the battalion plaque bespoke history, and that was daunting.
Esther had received her plaque from 3/16 on Wayfarer Station, but it had stayed in its box. She’d never started her “I Love Me” wall. She had a feeling that was going to change.
Her gag gift had been a sealed display case with an oversized set of stars inside and a “Break Glass When Needed” badge attached. Not as clever as Nok’s, and possibly a little too close to home, but she had dutifully laughed.
“You gonna drink that?” Steel asked, pointing at her refilled stein.
“Oh, yeah, sorry. And thanks, boot,” she said to Nobo IV.
“Lost in sweet memories?” Steel persisted.
“Yeah, lots of them. None of you, though!”
“Ah, you wound me, madame!” Steel said, bringing his hand to her heart, earning him a thrown napkin from Patel.
“You know, you never did tell me how you got your nickname,” Esther said. “You keep putting it off, and now I’m leaving. Is there a dark past to you?”
“Oh, nothing so dramatic. It’s just my last name. Ganbaatar. It means “Steel Hero.”
“You’re shitting me, right?”
“I shit you not. That’s what it means. Pull it up,” he said.
“So why all the secrecy?”
“‘Cause I like pulling your chain, Esther,” he said with a huge grin on his face. “You should know that by now.”
Esther reached over, took Steel’s stein, and refilled it for him.
She lifted her own stein, clinked glasses, and said, “It’s been real, Derrick Ganbaatar. Thanks.”
“You’re going to kick ass, Esther,” he said with none of his normal bantering tone.
Esther felt a lump forming in her throat, so she nodded and broke eye-contact, looking instead at the four tables the lieutenants had commandeered. The official hail and farewell had been at the club on-base, but the junior officers had abandoned the club as soon as they could and taken over the rear of The Haunted Hound. The “Hound” was not specifically a military bar, but it was off the beaten path, and it was generally left alone by senior officers as well as the shore patrol. When there was heavy drinking to be done, the Hound fit the bill.
Not that the drinking was excessive. Fox Company was scheduled for their BRQ, or Battle Readiness Qualification, recertification starting at the beginning of next week, and most of them had already slipped away for some last minute prep time. Nok and Bull could barely contain themselves and looked about ready to pull chocks.
Still, it was another two hours before the party started breaking up. Steel insisted on paying for the last two pitchers.
“You can’t drink at RTC, you know,” ha managed to get out, “so I’ve got to cover these.”
Esther wasn’t sure if drinking really was prohibited, but as hard as the course was supposed to be, she didn’t think anything that could affect her performance negatively would be a good idea. Besides, she wasn’t going to stand in his way if he wanted to pay.
“Got to pay the rent on the beer,” he said too loudly, before heading off to the head.
“So, Esther. This is it, I guess,” Ter said.
“I’m not leaving until Sunday, but yeah. We can still do something tomorrow.”
The XO reached over and put her hand on top of Esther’s.
“I’m going to miss you, you know.”
“I’ll miss you, too, Ter. Maybe after, you know?”
“You’re gonna be a snake eater, a kick-ass recon Marine. I’m going to be babysitting recruits. It’s a big Corps and an even bigger galaxy. We can say we’re gonna get together, but you know . . .”
Ter was pretty deep into her cups, not plastered, but certainly happy. She reached up with her other hand, now with both hands cupping Esther’s right hand.
“You know, I think we made a good team, me and you. We showed them.”
Esther wasn’t sure who “them” was, but Ter was right. They had been a good team. And good friends. That wasn’t going to change just because they had orders to different duty stations. The Corps might be big in most ways, but it was also small enough that they could run into each other again.
“Yes, we did, Ter. And I’m grateful to you, for your guidance. You’re someone special to me.”
Ter stood up, kicking her seat back, and leaned in to Esther, who looked up to hear what the XO wanted to say. But Ter didn’t want to say anything. She dropped Esther’s hand, grabbed her on either side of her head and pulled her forward—giving her a huge kiss right on her mouth.
Esther was shocked, and she froze, not knowing what to do. After an eternity, Ter broke off, and with her hands still framing Esther’s face, backed away so she could stare into Esther’s eyes.
What the . . . ?
A smile formed on Ter’s face, but a wistful, sad-looking smile.
“Ter, I . . . I, uh, I’m not—”
Ter raised her eyebrows for a moment and said, “Aye-yah, I knew it, always did. But I just had to make sure, sweetie, you know, or I would have regretted not taking the chance.” She sighed, then added, “It took more than a few glasses of liquid courage just to get up my nerve.”
“I . . . I’m sorry,” Esther said.
“No reason to be. I’m sorry. I knew what would happen, but I still did it.”
“I like you, Ter. I really do. You’re the sister I never—”
Ter put her forefinger on Esther’s mouth, stopping her.
“No need to explain. I love you . . . like a sister, I mean,” she added when she saw Esther’s eyes widen. “And I love Steel, too, even if he is a gallump sometimes,” she said as he returned from the head.
“What? What’d I miss here? We getting all maudlin with Esther abandoning us to go play recon?”
“Yeah, we’re getting maudlin,” Ter said, reaching out to take one of Steel’s hands and holding out her other to Esther.
Esther could read the hope in her eyes, and without hesitation, she took the hand, and with her other, grabbed Steel’s free hand. She pulled both of her friends into a deep hug.
“I’m going to miss you guys,” she said. “Golf 2/14 forever, OK?”
“Forever,” Ter mumbled into Esther’s shoulder.
Steel broke the hug first, grabbed the empty pitcher and held it upside-down as a few drops fell to the tabletop.
“Looks like we’re empty. One more?”
Esther pulled back from Ter, but gave her hand one more squeeze.
“No, I think I’m done. I’ve got some errands to get done in the morning if I’m going to be free later on. You still up for getting together, Ter?”
“I’ve got nothing better to do than kick it with my compadres on a Saturday night. Lonely Rose is playing at the Amphitheater. Sound copacetic?”
“Lonely Rose? They’re all chick music,” Steel said.
“That’s cause they’re chicks, dumbass. So you don’t want to come?”
“Oh, no, I’ll come. I kinda like them,” he adm
itted.
“Well, then, it’s a date,” Esther said, standing up.
She gave each of her friends another brief hug, then made her way out of the bar. Ter had surprised her. Not her sexual orientation. She’d been vaguely aware of that, but it was something she never considered. A Marine was a Marine, no matter who they slept with.
But a Marine was also a person, just like anyone else in the galaxy. Ter was her friend, and that went beyond their interaction as XO and platoon commander. Esther knew that she was not the most empathetic person around. She wasn’t sure she’d ever been that what with her drive to excel in everything she did. But after her parents were killed, she’d erected an additional wall between herself and others. And that wasn’t good. It wasn’t good as a Marine, and it wasn’t good for her soul.
Esther hoped her reaction hadn’t turned Ter away from her. She was serious when she said she loved her as a sister. Esther didn’t have very many close friends, and she didn’t want to lose one of those she had.
And in a way, it had been a compliment. It wasn’t as if Esther was tearing up the intimacy playing field, so to have someone interested offered her a tiny ego boost. She didn’t swing that way, but like any normal person, curiosity at the habits and proclivities of others had made her sometimes wonder about it.
She let thoughts on the subject fade as she entered the Q. She’d been serious. She had a lot to do to check out before she departed on Sunday. An entirely new chapter as a Marine was in front of her, and she was pretty excited about that.
PART 2
TARAWA
Chapter 16
“Come on, Lysander, just quit. I know you want to,” Gunnery Sergeant James McNeill said as he bent down to the prone Esther.
“I’m not quitting!” she shouted, pushing her body half-way back up from where she’d fallen and sprawled in the red dirt.
But he was right. She wanted to quit with every fiber in her body—what few fibers she could still feel.
What the hell was I thinking? she wondered for the thousandth time. Me and my stupid ego. And now I’m royally screwed.
Esther's Story: Recon Marine (The United Federation Marine Corps' Lysander Twins Book 2) Page 12
