“One thing about me, boys, is that I always win, and I’m going to make you into winners, too,” he said as he clambered up onto the tank. “We’re going to be the best fucking tank in the battalion, mark my words.”
Llanzo looked at Noah behind the staff sergeant’s back, eyebrows raised in a question. Noah shrugged, then motioned for Llanzo to follow their TC.
He wasn’t sure what to make of the staff sergeant. He was a 180 from the quiet, detached Staff Sergeant Cremineli, it was pretty evident, and Noah would have thought that would be a good thing. Now, he wasn’t quite as sure about that.
Chapter 29
“Congratulations, Lieutenant Moore,” Major General Carrigan said as he pinned the Silver Star on her pocket flap.
Noah stood at attention beside her, eyes focused on the bleachers in front of him where Miriam and Chance were sitting.
“You’ve made the division proud, and you are going to be a fine addition to Armor School.”
Lieutenant Moore, now a captain-select, had receive her orders to Armor School as part of the staff. Noah thought the general was right—the lieutenant would excel in training new tankers and APC crewmen.
Because of his background where he’d grown up mingling with colonels and generals, a lieutenant just didn’t impress him based on the bars on his or her collars. It had taken him awhile to get a feel for his platoon commander, but slowly and surely, he’d come to realize that she was an officer well-worthy of his respect. Sometimes a little unorthodox, she nevertheless was fearless in combat, and she put the welfare of her Marines above that of her own. A Marine couldn’t ask much more in a commander.
The general shook the lieutenant’s hand, then came to attention and conducted a right face, marched two steps, then snapped a left face until he was looking straight into Noah’s eyes.
The narrator, Gunny O’Fell from Third Platoon, read the citation:
The Chairman of the United Federation of Planets takes pleasure in presenting the Silver Star medal to:
Sergeant Noah Lysander
United Federation Marine Corps,
for service as set forth in the following
CITATION:
for conspicuous gallantry and intrepidity in action against the enemy as a member of First Platoon, Charlie Company, First Tank Battalion, Fourth Marine Division in support of Task Force 54-03 on Novyy Ural on 4 May 319. During the operation, First Platoon was tasked to cut off an infantry advance. Outnumbered by the Pytor Velikiy aggressors, Sergeant Lysander engaged the enemy with tremendous success, destroying several crew-served weapons positions. Shortly after the battle commenced, Sergeant Lysander’s tank commander was killed by enemy action, and he assumed command of the vehicle, continuing to press the battle. One of the platoon’s tanks was destroyed and another was damaged, rendering it unable to maneuver. With the situation becoming dire, his platoon commander ordered an aggressive assault of the main enemy line with two of the remaining tanks, and Sergeant Lysander, acting as both gunner and commander, destroyed numerous enemy positions until his tank was damaged by entrenched infantry and rendered combat ineffective. Sergeant Lysander immediately exited his tank and boarded his platoon commander’s tanks. Standing on the outside of the vehicle, fully exposed to enemy fire, he used his personal sidearm to engage and kill enemy who were closing in on and attacking the tank. Sergeant Lysander, at great personal risk, protected the platoon commander’s tank from almost certain destruction. After an intense fight, the enemy attack was broken, and the surviving enemy were forced to retreat. Sergeant Lysander’s zealous initiative, dogged actions, and fearless performance of his duties reflected great credit upon himself and upheld the highest traditions of the Marine Corps and the United Federation Naval Service.
For the Chairman,
Picolli J. Emerson-Ito
First Minister, United Federation of Planets
Noah stood still as the general took the medal from the sergeant major and slowly pinned it on his pocket flap.
“This is special to me, son. I served with your father three times, and there was never a better Marine. What happened to him is a travesty, a travesty. But you and your sister, you’re making him proud, and I’m sure he’s watching over you.”
He stepped back, and Noah brought his hand up into a salute.
“Thank you, General. I appreciate that.”
The general returned the salute and said, “And I appreciate your service. I’ve talked with Lieutenant Moore here and looked at the recordings. I agree with her. If you hadn’t decided to ride shotgun on the Kiss of Death—that’s the right name, isn’t it, Lieutenant?” he asked before turning back to Noah, “. . . the Kiss of Death. If you hadn’t jumped on top, the battle would have turned out differently, and the Pytor Velikiy forces would have reached the Novyy Ural AO, causing all sorts of problems. Sometimes, the actions of a single Marine can change the course of a battle, and this was one of those times.
“I told you your father would be proud, and I mean it.”
The general stepped back, the signal for Lessa, the far right Marine to say, “Hand . . . SALUTE,” then “Ready . . . TWO” after the general returned it.
Every Marine who’d been at the battle had received some sort of medal, from a BC3 on up. Staff Sergeant Mauser-Lopez had been presented with a Bronze Star, and then Noah and the lieutenant had received the Silver Star.
“Left . . . FACE!” Lessa ordered, then “Forward . . . MARCH.”
Noah, as the far-left Marine stepped off, knowing the rest would match his cadence. He tried to keep it steady, but the tears in his eyes were making it hard to see.
The general had told him that his father would be proud of him. Noah knew in his heart that Ben had been his father’s favorite. Heck, Ben had been everyone’s favorite. And Esther was now an officer, one with a Navy Cross no less. His father would probably have been shocked to see Noah follow him into the Corps in the first place. But Noah hoped that the general was right, and somewhere, somehow, his father was looking down at him and finally proud of the man, of the Marine, he’d become.
Chapter 30
“Hey, Noah. You’ve got a fucking asshole for a TC,” Lessa said, her eyes looking like they could shoot out sparks at any moment. “You can tell him to keep his fucking dick to himself or I’ll cut the tiny little thing off and feed it to him.”
What the hell? Noah wondered as he looked up from the readouts.
“What are you talking about?”
“Your TC, Staff Sergeant Cain, that’s who,” she said, standing in front of him in gym shorts and tank top, the anger emanating from her.
“I guess he can be an asshole, Lessa, but what’s this about his dick?”
The staff sergeant was full of himself, Noah had discovered, and he was free with his opinion on civilians, the Navy, the FCDC (who he seemed to hate with a passion), and yes, women in “his” Marine Corps, but his opinions seemed to be just bullshitting with Llanzo and him. Noah wasn’t particularly comfortable with the bitching and pontificating, but the guy knew tanks, and he was a wizard at maintenance. Noah had already learned more about keeping the Hombre (the name still stuck in his throat) up and running than he’d managed to learn over the previous three-plus years.
“Oh, the little fact that he likes to stick it in my face? How about that?”
“What are you talking about, Lessa?”
“What I’m talking about is at the gym. I’m on the bench, and he comes up, saying something like “That’s a lot of weight for a little lady like you. I think you need a spot,’” she said, lowering her voice in a mocking imitation.
“So, he comes up, and I think what the fuck, if he wants to spot, no skin off my nose, right? I start lifting, and since he’s spotting, I’m going for failure. And I get up to 17 reps, right? And he keeps yelling ‘You got it,’ only I don’t. But when he moves to help me rack it, he sticks his dick in my face.”
“What? He took out his dick?”
“No, not ou
t. In his shorts, but he tea-bagged me.”
“I . . . what did you do?”
“I was so fucking pissed that I got out of there before I unloaded on him.”
Noah didn’t know what to think. Sure, the staff sergeant had his opinions, but that seemed a little much, even for him.
“Are you sure he did it? Could it have been an accident?”
“Accident? I could feel him, half hard and shit. No, he fucking meant to do it.”
“What are you going to do about it?”
“I’m telling you, that’s what I’m going to do. I should just turn his ass in to the new lieutenant, but you pass the word to him that if he does some shit like that again, I’ll come down on him in a fucking world of hurt.”
She leaned forward and poked Noah in the chest with her forefinger, saying, “You tell him that.”
She spun around and stalked off.
Noah sat back. In his mind, he tried to put together what she’d said. It did seem odd, as he pictured the staff sergeant in back of her spotting. If he’d had to take the weight, he should have bent back at the waist, taking his crotch away from Lessa, not towards her. Something didn’t make sense, and with a sinking heart, he knew he had to confront the staff sergeant.
He closed the assessment, calling out to Pure Dick that he’d be back and have it finished before chow.
“Make sure you do, Sergeant. I don’t want to have to chase you down.”
Noah checked in the gym first, but the staff sergeant wasn’t there, so he headed to the SNCO barracks. Cain wasn’t married, so he lived on base.
“Staff Sergeant, it’s Sergeant Lysander. I need to talk to you,” he said, speaking into the interface.
“What do you want, Lysander. I’m in the shower.”
“It’s important, and I don’t want to say it out here.”
“Shit, Lysander. It can’t wait? OK, give me a moment.”
Noah stood there, nervous as he waited. After about a minute, the door opened and the staff sergeant, naked except for a towel around his waist, stood there.
“What’s so fucking important that you’ve got to pull me out of the shower?”
“Uh . . . it’s about Sergeant Franklin.”
“Franklin? What does she want?”
If Noah was expecting some sort of guilty reaction, the staff sergeant didn’t produce. He just stood there, looking annoyed.
“She just came and told me that you spotted her at the gym . . .”
“Yeah. What of it?”
“She says you stuck your dick in her face while you spotted her.”
The staff sergeant looked at him in amazement, then a huge smile took over his face as he broke out into laughter.
“Is that what the little bitch is saying? For reals?” he asked.
“Well, yeah. That’s what she’s saying.”
“In her dreams I did that.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, she wishes she could see my cock,” he said, grabbing it with one hand through the towel. “Look, she comes in the gym with shorts five sizes too small and a tanktop that flashes her titties. What do you think she’s trying to do? What do you think she wants?”
“Uh, Staff Sergeant. I think you might have the wrong impression of things. Lessa’s got a wife. She’s not into guys.”
“She’s a lez? No shit? But she’s kinda hot. But no matter. If she’s a lez, that’s because she’s never had some guy give it to her good. Am I right or am I right?”
“Staff Sergeant, what she is doesn’t matter. She said if you do it again, she’s not going to hold back.”
“What, little bitty Franklin’s going to jump me? Me?” he asked, flexing his pecs.
He had a point, Noah had to admit. Lessa was a small Marine, maybe tipping the scales at 50 kg. Staff Sergeant Cain was short like many heavy worlders, but also like other heavy worlders, he was a big, muscular man, probably 120 kg. Lessa could be full of bluster, but there wasn’t a way she could take the staff sergeant in a fight.
“Maybe, maybe not. But she said she’d take it to the new lieutenant if it happened again. She was going to do it this time, but she came to me instead.”
The smirk on his face disappeared, and he said, “Look, Lysander. I don’t fucking know what she thought happened. I spotted her. When her spindly arms failed, I grabbed the bar, you know, to protect her. Maybe the front of my shorts got close to her, maybe they didn’t. I wasn’t paying attention, you know, ’cause I was trying to keep the bar from slamming back down on her. I can’t help it if she’s got it into her head that I was trying to get my nut off that way.”
Noah stared into the staff sergeant’s eyes, trying to read what was behind them. Maybe Lessa had misconstrued what had happened. Maybe the staff sergeant hadn’t intentionally done anything. And it wasn’t like it was that much of an event. Noah had probably done worse during MCMA[7] training when fighting female Marines. He’d sure had more than a few dicks in his face while rolling around the ground, after all.
I’ve done my duty. I’ve passed along Lessa’s message.
He was about to tell the staff sergeant that and leave, when the mental image that he’d constructed came back to him. Physics was physics, and there wasn’t a way that the staff sergeant could have accidently brushed her like that. Unless Lessa was lying—and Noah was pretty sure that she wasn’t, given her anger—he’d meant to do it. Whether he was joking or meant something more serious, he’d done it, and now he was lying. Standing in front of Noah, he had a look of disdain on his face, but there was something else there, something he was trying to hide.
He was scared.
And Noah knew for certainty that Cain had done it. Whether it was a joke, disdain for women in the Corps, or some perversion, Noah couldn’t tell, but he was sure it had been a purposeful action.
“Bullshit, Staff Sergeant. You did it and you know it. If you pull that kind of thing again, Lessa, or whomever else it is, won’t have to report you because I will.”
Anger flowed across the staff sergeant’s face replacing any fear he might have had.
“Fuck you, Lysander. I thought you were a man, not a fem. Oh, yeah, I spoke with Leto Smith, from your recruit platoon. He told me you were a pussy, but I thought how could General Lysander’s son be one? I wanted to give you a chance, but here you are, siding with the bitches. You’re what’s wrong with the Corps, let me tell you. And let me tell you one more thing. Your sister? She’s got more balls than you. Your father would be sick to his stomach if he could see you now.”
He shoved Noah in the chest, pushing him back out of the quarters, and slammed the door in Noah’s face.
Chapter 31
Things had rapidly gone downhill since his confrontation with the staff sergeant. The Hombre was an arctic landscape, cold and bitter. Staff Sergeant Cain didn’t speak a word to him unless it was related to the tank. He kept Noah busy with every imaginable scutwork, but he never went over the line, he never raised his voice, even to the level of removing all profanity while addressing him.
He’d tried to broach the matter with Llanzo, but his fellow sergeant refused to be drawn in, saying he wasn’t going to get between his two crewmates. Noah resented that. He’d done nothing wrong. But it had become painfully obvious that Llanzo was not going to stick his neck out.
It wasn’t just within the Hombre’s crew, either. Several other male Marines, including Cliff, had turned a cold shoulder to him. Lanny Hirokyu had gone as far as to call him a “snitch” to his face, which made no sense. Noah had tried to tell Lanny that he’d snitched on no one, but Lanny wasn’t having any of it. He accused Noah of trying to get rid of Staff Sergeant Cain so he could become tank commander, which shocked Noah into silence.
Nobody—not one person—came up to Noah with support. To be fair, most Marines didn’t seem to either know or care what had transpired. They treated Noah as usual. But no one told him he’d done the right thing, not even Lessa, who acted as if she’d n
ever brought Noah into the confrontation in the first place.
Noah had been lonely as a recruit, without much in the way of friends. Over the course of his two tours, he’d started to feel the joy of being part of something bigger than just himself. He’d felt as if he belonged in the Corps. Now, he was feeling isolated, like an outsider, once again.
And it wasn’t as if he was getting support at home. Now well into her pregnancy and taking care of Chance, Miriam had seemed to pull back from him. He’d tried to talk to her about his situation, but she seemed to think that everything would pass, and when he’d tried to bring it up a second time, she curtly told him to “be a man” and to take care of things himself.
Noah tried to bury himself in his work, and the staff sergeant was helping him in that, at least. Noah had just spent the last eight hours testing every one of the Hombre’s tracks, which was both a mind-numbing and back-breaking task. He’d called Miriam earlier to tell her he’d be late, and now, he was doing something he’d never done before. Instead of going home immediately, he’d walked into one of the many bars on Gasperson Street. He’d been in a few before, but never alone, and not when he should be going home.
He stared at the glass of arak sitting in front of him. The milky color did not look as appealing as any of the whiskey family, the “uisce beatha” water of life, but Noah had been curious as to the resurgence in popularity of the ancient grape and anise liquor. He’d stepped inside the bar on a whim, and on a whim, he’d ordered a glass of it.
Neither of his parents had been heavy drinkers, and his mother had always told him never to drink when he was depressed, advice he’d always tried to follow. And now, it looked like he’d ignore that advice.
His tour would be up in less than a year, and he’d have almost another year before his enlistment was up. Miriam expected him to get out, but he’d been leaning towards re-enlistment. Until now. With all the crap he was taking, he was beginning to wonder if it was worth it. Maybe it would be better out in the civilian world.
Noah's Story: Marine Tanker (The United Federation Marine Corps' Lysander Twins Book 3) Page 19
