Corpsman (15 page)

Chapter 23

“If that’s your decision, then of course I’ll support you,” Leticia said as they sat around their tiny kitchen table. 

“Kitchen” might be stretching the meaning of the word.  There was barely enough room to turn around, and except for a second-hand hotplate, there was nothing with which to cook.  All their food came out of a Kiogi fabricator, and their cold items were run through a one-liter chiller.  For the hundredth time, Liege reminded herself to look up Kiogi.  It certainly wasn’t a universal brand, and judging from the quality of the fabricator, she could understand why.  Still, recipes were just programming, and the food it created was OK.

Liege reached across the table and pushed aside Leticia’s school books to grasp her hands.  She just squeezed them for a moment, thankful for her sister’s support.  Liege wasn’t even sure what she wanted herself, and it was good to know that Leticia had her back.

Still holding her sister’s hands, she swung around to where Avó was sitting in his chair, watching a holoserial.  At least the living room in the apartment was good-sized, and Liege had sprung for a nice Samsung at the base exchange.  Her grandfather seemed happy, more so now that he was getting his treatment.

“Well, I’ve got to get back.  I need to tell the chief today,” she said.

She’d skipped chow to return to the apartment and tell Leticia.  This wasn’t a decision to be made lightly—what she chose would affect all three of them.

Liege stood and leaned over the table, and still holding her hands, put her chin on top of her sister’s head.  She stayed there a moment, then giving one last squeeze, she broke free and turned away.  Walking up to her Avó, she put her hand on his shoulder.

He reached up with his hand to place it on hers, saying, “Ah, Criceto, where are you going?”

Liege stood bolt-upright and looked back at Leticia. 

Has he regressed?

“Oh, don’t get excited.  I know you don’t think you’re my little Criceto anymore, Liege.  But no matter how old you get, no matter how many medals you win, you’ll always be my Criceto.”

Liege looked back at her grandfather for a moment, relief flooding over her as she saw the slight smile crook one side of his mouth. 

She squatted beside him and put her arms in his lap, saying, “It’s OK, Avó, I will always be your Criceto.”

“I know you will.  Now you’re blocking my view.  Come give me a kiss, then go back to work and leave an old man alone.”

Liege stood up and kissed her grandfather on the cheek.  He’d been in treatment for five months, and while Liege didn’t want to fool herself into false hopes, it was obvious that the treatment was having an effect.  Navy medicine really was first rate, and as a corpsman, that made her proud.

Liege waved to Leticia and left the apartment.  She checked the time.  Noon chow was over, but she’d told Sergeant Vinter she needed some personal time, so there was no hurry.  Still there was no reason to dawdle.  She’d made up her mind, and stewing over it wouldn’t do her any good.

She jumped on the tram and rode it to City Center, changing to the Blue Line to get to the front gate.  It only took 20 minutes combined, but it would have been nice to be able to afford even a Jetscoot.  The economy scooters didn’t have much power, but she could have cut right over to the gate and been there in five minutes.

Once on base, despite being adamant not to dawdle, it still took her 35 minutes to make it to the H & S Company CP.  The battalion aid station took up one of the bottom deck wings, and she climbed the four steps and entered.

“Hey Liege, what’s up?” Cal Zylanti asked from behind the receiving desk.  “I thought First Squad was on the range.”

Cal was a short-timer, already in his check-out, so he was killing time on sick-call duty.  Not that the early afternoon time slot usually had much action.

“I have to see Chief.  Is he in?”

“Yep, back in his office.”

Liege started to walk past him, then she turned back and asked, “Cal, are you happy going to SRCC?”

“Hell, yeah, I am.  This is what I’ve always wanted, to be a recon corpsman.”  He tapped the Fleet Marine Force Enlisted Warfare Specialist badge on his chest.  “This is pretty good—and congrats on you earning yours, by the way. . .”

Getting “qualed” had taken more time and effort than Liege had imagined, especially while taking care of Avó, but she’d done it, and she wore the badge with a degree of pride.  Only 30% of the corpsmen who serve with the Marines ever earn it.

“. . .but becoming a Special Reconnaissance Corpsman, that’s the ultimate.  If I make it through—when I make it through, I mean, everyone will know I’ve got what it takes.”

“But what if you don’t?  I mean, make it through.”

“Oh, I will.”

“But what if you don’t?  What if you get hurt in training?” she persisted.

“If I don’t?  Well, at least I know I tried.  I couldn’t go through the rest of my life wondering ‘what if.’  Not like your regen school, huh?  Not much of a chance of getting injured in that course.”

“No, not much of a chance,” she agreed.  “Well, like I said, I need to see the chief.”

She stepped past the empty triage desks and knocked on the jamb to the chief’s open hatch.

“Chief, you got a minute?”

“Neves, sure, come on in,” he said from behind his desk.  “I’ve got your class date here.  November 3.  We’ll process your leave, and you should plan on arriving at Station One no later than October 28.

“And oh, yeah.  I talked to my buddy at Navy Schools Command, and he’s already got you on a priority list for housing for your grandfather and sister.”

“Thanks, Chief, and I appreciate that.  But about the school, I think I’ve changed my mind.”

She stood back waiting for his reaction.  He leaned his head back, closed his eyes, and took a few deep breaths.

“I don’t suppose it would make any difference if I told you how many people went to bat for you,” he said, eyes still closed.

“I. . .I really appreciate it, Chief.  You and Doctor Wright and the CO, even.”

“And Doctor X’anto, too.  He may have rotated, but he still pushed pretty hard for you.”

“Yes, Doctor X’anto, too.  But my grandfather, he’s doing pretty well in his treatment.  He likes his therapist.  My sister and I, well, we don’t want to change him up again.  It could push his recovery back.”

The chief opened his eyes and stared at her.  Liege started feeling nervous, waiting for an explosion.

“Well, I can’t fault you for that.  Family comes first, right?  I think it’s a shame, but it’s your choice.  I just hope you decide to keep in the reserves.  The commitment isn’t too onerous, and if things change in the future, well, you can come back in.”

“Chief?  The reserves?”

“Yes, the reserves.  And I’ll tell you what.  The hospital hires some civilians, too.  You won’t be qualified for regeneration therapy, of course, but I can call around and see if we can’t get you OJT for radiology or something similar.  You can still get your skills while your grandfather goes through his regimen.”

“Uh, Chief, I don’t think you understand.  I don’t want the reserves.”

“Why not?  You’ve invested four years in the Navy.  Why throw that away?”

“It’s not like that at all, Chief.  I’ve changed my mind about regen school, not about my re-enlistment.  I still want to re-enlist.”

The chief looked surprised and then leaned forward over his desk.

“Oh, OK, that’s great!  Sorry I misunderstood you.  That’s great.  Really great.  Great.  I, uh, well, we don’t have too many C-Schools here on Tarawa.  Just rehabilitation therapy.  Do you want that?  Or maybe you want another C-School, a short one, and then come back here?  I’m guessing you’ll be re-enlisting to remain on station,” he said, his words coming quick and his sentences jumbled together.

“Yes, I mean no,” she said, unsure of what question she was supposed to answer first.  “What I mean is, yes, I want to remain on station.  I have to, if my grandfather is going to keep up with his treatment.  But I don’t want rehab, ortho, regen or whatever.  I want to remain with the Marines.”

“Oh,” he said quietly, followed by a louder “Oh!

“With the Marines.  So you don’t want C-School?’ he asked.

“No, I want C-School,” she said.

“But you just told me you don’t want rehab.  That’s the only C-School we have here on the planet.”

“No, there’s one more.  I want SRCC.  I want to be a Special Reconnaissance Corpsman!”

PART 2

TARAWA

Chapter 24

“Hey, boot!  Get your butt over here!” Liege shouted at the newly graduated recruit.

The private double-timed over, centered herself, then said, “Yes, Petty Officer!”

Liege looked her over with a critical eye, then said, “Well, I guess they’re letting anyone graduate now, Marine.  So come give your sister a hug.”

“Thanks for coming, Liege.  I wasn’t sure you could make it,” Leticia said, giving Liege an awkward, but still heartfelt hug.

“Wouldn’t have missed it for the world, Leti.  I’m so proud of you.”

And she was.  Leticia had grown so much, had matured so much since Liege had left them on Nova Esperança.  She’d become the mother of their little family, always giving, never receiving.  Liege had always felt guilty that she had left her sister, even knowing why she’d done so, but while she was travelling the galaxy, enjoying the companionship of her friends, Leticia had been home caring for Avó.  Not only that, but somehow, she’d found time to come close to earning her degree.  A few more credits, and Leticia would be the first university graduate in the Neves family for generations.

And now, she was a Federation Marine.  Avó’s treatment had gone exceptionally well.  He wasn’t 100% and probably would never be, but he was more than functional.  With home visits by assisted services, he could live as he wished.  Leticia had at first resisted enlisting, but with Avó insisting, and with Liege’s enthusiastic backing, she’d taken the plunge.  Liege knew that this was the first time since their mother had died that Leticia was finally on her own, doing something for herself.

“So, you didn’t tell me where you’re headed,” Liege said as they broke the hug.

“Well, after ITC, I’m out to 3/13.”

“Oh, an Outer Forces Marine.  Out in the booneys!”

“That’s right, no soft living for me.  I’m out to the frontier, where Marines are hard!”

“Dream on, little girl.  The Inner Forces are where it’s at,” Liege said with a laugh.

“Who knows, maybe I’ll ask for RTC
[14]
after that.  See how you snake-eaters live.”

Liege punched her sister in the arm, saying, “You got enough in the tank for that?”

Her thoughts briefly skirted the mass of memories of SRCC first, then RTC.  Without a doubt, the two courses were the hardest, worst, and best things she had ever accomplished.  Hardest was self-explanatory.  Only 22% of those who started RTC graduated.  For the few women who volunteered, the numbers were even worse.  And while fit, Liege was hardly a super-stud. 

Worst was because they came close to breaking her.  She’d been pushed to the edge, and she’d seen that she was lacking.  On more occasions than she wanted to remember, she’d come ever-so-close to quitting.

Best because actually succeeding had been the single most emotional moment of her life, to know that she had made it, that she’d been able to dredge up the raw material within her to be tempered into the steel that she was today—and that raw material was simple force of will.  Physically, she didn’t have all the same tools, but mentally, she was hard as a diamond, making it through when some monster physical specimens had quit.

It had been a very close thing with her, but as Liege looked at her little sister, she knew that if anyone could make it, she could.

“And what’s going on with Vic?” Liege asked.  “I saw him sitting with Avó in the stands.”

Leticia colored, looked down, then raised her face to look her sister in the eyes.

“He came to see me graduate, of course.  And we’re spending three days in Kentville—oh, when are you going back?”

“Tomorrow morning.  I trust we can all eat together as a family tonight?”

“Oh, of course.  But—”

“Yeah, invite him too.  Then you can go play house with him.”

“It’s not like that, Liege.”

Liege knew it wasn’t, really.  Maybe she was a little jealous of her sister—and a little jealous of Vic.  Leticia was smart, beautiful, and level-headed.  She and Vic had become close after Liege had been awarded her Navy Cross, and things had evidently heated up after Liege left for SRCC.  Liege had been first assigned to First Recon on Tarawa, but when the billet with regiment on Gobi came open, along with a place in the Independent Duty Corpsman Course, that had taken Liege away from her family, and Vic had stepped in as Leticia’s support.  After Avó’s improvement, when the option of Leticia enlisting was first broached, Vic had decided not to re-enlist.  He’d said he did not want the complication of a corporal in a relationship with a private.

Of course, that hadn’t too hard of a decision for him.  Vic came from a very, very wealthy and high-placed family on Broadbent.  Most of the high-society families sent their sons and daughters to the Navy, if public service was deemed appropriate, but Vic went Corps.  No one had had expected Vic to make the Marines a career, though.  He had many more options available to him.

When Leticia entered boot camp, Vic had gone home to “take care of some family matters.”  To be honest, Liege had thought he’s been gone for good and had only used Leticia as a local hook-up.  So she was surprised, and more than a little gratified, to see him show up for the graduation.

“So, Private, let’s go pick up Avó and your boyfriend.  I’m thinking Carlito’s for dinner?  Nobody on Gobi can make a decent pizza, and I’m dying for a couple of slices.”

Taking her sister’s arm in hers, she led her back to the bleachers.  Walking like that might not be regulation, but family came first.