Marsha Narvik
Sargeant-Major
"Sargeant-Major, 8745th Montral Fusilliers?"
"Yes, you got something for me?"
"Yes, Sir! Orders!"
"Oh, I gotta sign for those?"
"Yes, Sir!"
"Done, carry on." The soldier, apparently from the lucifer blacks, just saluted.
Marsha took the parcel into what passed for the office of the quartermaster, a locked room in headquarters building, with a further locked safe.
She opened the parcel, and was greeted by the usual 'text-of-law' wrapping. Someone on Terra was involved. Lately, they just assumed you'd have no idea what laws applied, and always copied you the terran, or imperium-wide, law regarding a package and its use. Oi, this one can get you lobotomized and transformed into a servitor? That's harsh!
Title 118, ok, so this decoration. Title 116, oh another decoration. There were five sub-boxes. Ok, unit citation, emblazonable? That's not that common, but it's just a piece of fabric with some text, that wouldn't rank lobotomization. Need to talk to the colours sargeant about this though, he'd listen, she was after all the seniormost nco in the division.
Certificate of Warmaster's mentioned in dispatches? Also nothing to write home about. Cynthia's mob only gets mentioned in dispatch once a quarter, and she'll say she had the flu.
Knock-knock.
The door had a teller-like window she used when she was working, but needed to receive visitors, she opened the upper part. "Yes?"
"Delivery for Van Doos Royal Candian Regiment, care of 8745th Montral Fusilliers?"
"I am acting Quartermaster for 22nd Imperial Division-Terra, for the duration, I can accept Van Doos parcels directly."
"Not this. My orders are explicit. Please sign here, as Fusiliers."
"Sure, but I'm the same person..."
"There's added liability if you accepted it as the enclosing unit, I'm told."
"Ouch, ok." She signed. "Happy?"
"The Imperium thanks you for your service." The administratum senior said gravely.
We don't often see your kind around here... Marsha idly mused to herself. The gold brocade and lamé, for a messenger? She didn't know he'd traveled from Terra for this, just to make sure the 38 millenia old medal didn't disappear in transit. Many believed it was the last extant medal, made of the last extant gunmetal from a forgotten M2 conflict, specified in the decoration regulation in exacting detail. Marsha opened the packages in order of reception, just in case one of the later orders was to re-pack the decoration and send it back. That was always easier with an unopened parcel. She kept reading.
She paused, sipped some water.
Order of the scarlet wing. Ok, someone in Sly's mob didn't have one already? They've been airdropped all over. Oh, and a repeat award for everyone else injured, that's four people I need to talk to.
Command Laurels? Who doesn't have those yet? Oh. He didn't? Well, that'll feel good, giving him this. She sent a note to his adjutant, requesting a formal meeting, this wasn't even to deliver the thing, it was to plan a full ceremony, handing it over. Command Laurels were serious stuff, and normally went with a promotion, albeit, this particular officer didn't have much room to go up...
Order of the crimson skull?, she'd returned twenty unopened last quarter, they'd been posthumously converted to golden skulls. She went to the next one, from the other package.
Order of the Triple Skull? That was like a golden skull, only for the survivors of a unit? Ohhh... That's why he'd made a show to have her sign as her own unit, with the unit almost wiped out, they didn't trust the enclosing formation that much, what if it was intentional. Wait, that's... Just one? There's a single survivor? Damn, that's gotta suck, and I guess I gotta find a forwarding address. Oh, no it is to stay here... She kept on reading. Recipient is to be expected on Ser Arronduke, october tenth, 969M40. Divisional colours band is to hold honours for their fallen comrades in the colours section of the fallen regiment. Ok, next parcel, whoa, you're a big boy aren't you? Command Laurels, Recipient ...
More legalese, and this one's sanction is a one-way trip to a penal battalion? Sheez, that's harsher, I guess, but I mean, why are they even trying? Recipient is to be expected on Ser Arronduke, october tenth, 969M40. Divisional colours band is to hold honours for their fallen comrades in the colours section of the fallen regiment. Sheesh, the exact same verbiage. Wait, that's tomorrow? Who's coming... Oh, frak! I gotta tell Michael, NOW! They hadn't ended their relationship officially, but... Well finding him in Sophia's bed wasn't going to be forgotten nor forgiven for a while, but that didn't mean he'd take Carmine coming back gracefully. Thankfully that was the last one. She locked up, then went to see the only person who'd suffered as much as she did when she caught Michael and Sophia sharing a bed.
"Frank, I need your help..." "Marsha? What's up?" He was slurring, he'd been drinking, probably qualified as drunk, even, not the best sign. "I need to break news to Michael, gently..." "Break him this news gently: He can go frak himself!" "You don't mean that, adjutant." "He can go frak himself!" "Do I need to call the sentries to make you behave? You're not usually this much of a child..." She crossed her arms under her breasts, and tried to look imposing, never the easiest thing when you're in the running for shortest, slightest and most petite woman in the regiment. She did enough exercise, her arms looked bigger than they ought to be. Those heavy boxes didn't shift themselves, although, with the heaviest, she needed help, or a big lever effect. "UJh, sorry, Marsh. I let him get to me again." He didn't know she was the one that had found them, apparently, nor that she was in a relationship with Michael until she did... "He's good at that, it's what let him be a big red sash, so don't let him get to you, calm down... "What do you need to tell him that you need to tell him gently..." "We're going to be honouring the last of the Van Doos, tomorrow. Even their colours section and band got totalled, so ours will substitute. "Wait, she's been recovering for six months, and she hasn't recruited anyone?" "She's still under medication, and medical supervision, but they figure the ceremony will do them, and us, good." "What?" "One of the medals she's getting, the permission had to come from the Lord Commander Militant, and comes straight from the homeworld. They figure a terran division seeing one of their own honoured in a very terran way is good for morale..." "One of our own? She's a red sash!" "She's still terran, and I got the citations for all of her late comrades, too." "What, the entire regiment?" "Yeah, all twenty-five hundred or so. I'm told only two citations will be read." Frank whistled. "That's half a brigade?" "Yeah, your point?" "What the hell we doing with two half-brigades to make a division?" "We're supposed to be reinforced. next week." "How.. Oh wait, you're Division Quartermaster now?" "Acting. Have to make sure we got enough grub, we're getting more mouths to feed." "I guess there's no way to soft coat it for Mike." His animus for the man seemed gone, or at least, forgotten, for now. Marsha took that as a good sign. "Let's go talk to him."
"What, Carmine's coming?" "Commissar-Colonel Carmine Petit, commanding Royal Candian Van Doos, is coming to get her orders, decorations, and promotion, I would imagine, then going back to Terra to recruit." "She made dual-rank?" "I think it's pending until she gets here, but you got the gist." "Why?" "One of the decorations, the Command Laurels? People without a command don't really make proper use of it..." "Why'd they make her dual-rank now though?" "Because making her Lord-Commissar, senior to Rajiv means he'd be out of a job." "He's already been transferred..." "Yeah, but he still works for the division, he's handling things in her absence, until she returns to Terra."
The pipes skirled, the bugle strained, fluffing the note, and the procession started. Navy personnel didn't give accompaniment like this normally. But then, the Lord Commander, Segmentum Pacificus would normally have accompanied this medal all the way here. Or the Warmaster of the Crusade. Both had begged off due to active operations, and so Humel, acting-Lord-General Militant, second theatre front, Sabbat Worlds Crusade, was coming in their stead. Fifty Lord-Generals, Generals and Admirals, part of his retinue, between him and the guest of honor. Oh, and one General-Commissar, who was talking in hushed voices with the guest, well, they worked together... The Navy Band played, until the colours band, 22nd heavy assault took their own places in the procession, and the Navy Band fell out. They were joined, not replaced, by band of the 22nd Narmenian Tank Grenadiers, who kept up the Slow March of the Van Doos, a tune written, apparently, just for the late comrades they were honouring today. As had been planned, hastily, by the Lord-General Militant's staff, and included in some briefing papers Marsha had received, once the guest of honour passed them, the Fusiliers followed, their own band adding their own energy to the hallowed song, the band went first, then company by company, battalion by battalion, then the HQ company came last, the commanding officer closing the march for the Fusiliers, followed by the Division's HQ staff. Marsha had chosen to walk with the fusiliers, not Divisional HQ, and that was taken as a sign of her attachment to her unit. At their destination, a small makeshift scene, a pair of officers had been chosen to wait for them, their greatcoats shiny and formal, their red sashes resplendant, the powersword of Hieronymo Sondar scabbarded along one's thigh, "Je me souviens', sometimes known as the blade of memory, the ancestral chainsabre of the other echoing it from the other side. As the guest of honor approached, Colonel-Commissar Gaunt adjusted his grey kid gloves. Michael did a double-take, so even the minor legend of the commissariat had human feelings... The various troops arrayed themselves on the sod, covering a huge flat area of the plain. In the end, the last people in the procession, the Lord-Commander Militant and his Commissar-General rose up the stairs to join Gaunt and Michael, lord-commander Humel fished his glasses from his pocket, then his speech. "Soldiers of the 22nd Imperial Division-Terra, we are gathered today for a singular event. Singular heroism was on display, and it was on display by the members of this division!" There were scattered, muted cheers all across the maybe 4500 people standing across the field from him. "Commissar Carmine Petit, we are here to salute the sacrifice of your Van Doos. We are also here to salute your heroic conduct, neither allowing their gesture to be in vain, and helping soldiers of this division defend most heroically, the salient that led to us taking the continent. I now ask Colonel-Commissar Gaunt to come read the citation for one of Commissar Petit's medals to be awarded today." "I will read from the citation of Commissar Petit's triple skull: For unmatched, unconquered bravery in the face of the enemy, leading to their complete extermination and utter defeat, and the Imperial conquest of Urdim city." He paused. "Soldiers, especially to you, Lady of the Van Doos, my Tanith first are close by, and as the only survivors of their own planet, they have mentioned to me that they empathize quite closely with you, being the only survivor of your unit, and wish to show their solidarity with you in every way." Carmine's eyes were glimmering, and she reached for a handkerchief. "I now call on Lord Commissar-General Simone Thanh, sabbat worlds crusade second front morale and encouragement, to read from her award." "Thank you, my lord. Soldiers, Carmine, as all commissars in this theatre, reports to me, I must remind you not to try to imitate such behaviour without encouragement from one of my commissars, please. I'd like to think we can have a victory without such drastic casualty rate. I will now read from the citation of her Command Laurels: For commensurate leadership, showing a shining example of bravery uniquely matched to the impact of every life, every bullet, every bayonet thrust at the enemy's heart, the emperor's tacticus wish to single out Commissar Petit, and recommend her for appropriate promotion." "Thank you Simone, and now, I'm told I was expected to read the citation for this medal, and hand it to you, but the regulations for this award are a little... particular. I now call on a true son of Terra, Commissar Michael Goldenrod, to hand you your award first, and then read the citation, in full. Soldiers, I would point out, this award has only ever been handed out to Terran troops such as the Van Doos, and indeed, its name, indicates a Noram origin, exclusively" "Thank you My Lord." Michael adjusted his peaked cap. He held, hanging from a frayed ribbon of antique design was a 38mm crois pattee of bronze, its metal blackened with age, a lionish creature bearing a noble crown atop it, and the high gothic inscription 'Pro Valore', said ribbon which he laid upon her shoulders then knelt, before continuing. "Soldiers of the Imperial 22nd Division of Terra, take note that the Senatorum Imperialis has heard your petition, and thought fit to grant its remit. In your name, a singular act of bravery, self-sacrifice, dedication and true valor, such as is seldom seen, and we agree with your request to grant it, using the antique rules of the Royal Canadic(sic) rites. You've done us proud. Protecting the rights and privileges of all, we recognize you. Protecting the freedoms so few, Defending to the last. Standing hard, brave and fast. We grant the surviving members." He paused, carmine had broken into sobs, and he waited for her to subside, not unkindly. "Of the Van Doos Royal Canadic Regiment, the Royal Canadic Order of Victory, may they bow to no one in service not equally meritant."
He's just smitten with her, isn't she? She was watching Michael as he put the collar of the medal on Carmine. "Hey Marsha?" Wanda just moved into the empty space next to her, as senior nco she was used to being given space, having company right now sounded good. "You doing ok?" "I'm doing fine, how you doing?" Marsha could see her friend's rank tabs had been reinstated. So Michael was willing to forgive, this time, interesting. "I'm ok." But Wanda sounded tense, Marsha wanted to hug her, tell her everything would be all right. Which was ridiculous, Wanda outmassed her almost two to one, and certainly didn't need physical protection. But... Where was that coming from? "He's really into her, isn't he?" "What?" "Come on, I know you two were dating for a while, it probably hurts seeing him like this?" "No, well not as much as I thought. How are you noticing, anyways? He's just being a hero, like he's supposed to be." "She's blushing, like she knows what she's thinking about..." "She's not blushing, she was crying, and her red eyes look like a blush from this far off... I'm not his only ex around though, am I?" "We stopped talking when I had my relationship with him, that was a mistake, I'm sure you'd have given me great advice..." "Well, if we're being honest, I don't know if I'd taken that that well, I was harbouring my own little crush, way back when... That I didn't get to hear any sordid details, well, I'm thankful." "Look at us, we're watching him with a gal, there's two of us, and he was last seen with a fourth, what a cad." There was no heat in her voice. "I'd take him back, if I thought he sincerely meant it, I'd totally take him back." "I'd... probably take him back too, I thought he was doing some bullshit like holding my rank tabs in exchange for something, but he was totally on the up and up, and just held me to my own word. A lot easier to hate him when you think he's sleazy..." "You'd think we both know better, he's not lying to us, but he's not treating us like treasured partners either, you'd think we'd get better offers or something..." "This regiment's not where you go looking for love, it probably qualifies as one of the worse places, actually." "Why do you say that?" "If Michael's the biggest catch in this pond, what does it say about the water?" "It would say a lot about the water, but he's not..." "Oh? Who's still unattached." "That's the point I was trying to make, sorry, the best catch was Iguwolé, and now he's no longer unattached, but he met Aquamarina with the regiment..." "Hmm, I hadn't thought of that." "Also, maybe the male gender's overhyped..." "I'm not sure I'd be willing to give men up completely, but you raise a valid point... I've certainly been better treated by women than men, upper echelon of the regiment from either sex excluded." "You think Sophia's giving you a hard time because she's jealous?" "Well, my discipline problems aren't only her fault, but she certainly shows more respect to Cyn." "Who's practically her sister-in-law at this point..." "What are you saying?" "That she's hardly impartial, but I can totally see her not liking a Tempestus-trained officer showing her off." "Or picking one and rejecting the other?" "Well true, but one having command experience, and the other learning on the job would give her more rationales for choice..." "I'm totally losing this comparison with Cyn, aren't I?" "Let's talk about something else..." "You know what? I've just discovered the key to a mystery that's been bugging me since scholam..." "What mystery?" "Why, when you say 'Mike' it sounds different from everyone else. I finally figured out, you just always say it like he's an important person, rev.. reverently." "It's that obvious huh?" "To me it is, but I guess I know you a little." "Sir, we've spent more time together than anyone, including the Commissar... I even caught someone spreading rumours once..." "What happened?" "I thought I'd beat them up, then I remembered myself, and my station... And reminded them that a second lieutenant's unit seldom functioned without ammonition... They apologized, profusely, and promised not to do it again." "You'd have withheld their ammonition?" "No, at least, not to the entire unit, not just for them, but they didn't know that... They bought a farm the next day, I felt awful." "I'm sorry, it's never t he right time, is it? But we've been spending too much time around commissars, such trickery is becoming normal..." "Speak for yourself sir, I've always had to resort to trickery, considering everyone in the fusiliers is bigger than my humble self." "How did you even manage to enlist?" "I ran faster than everyone sir, not having that much mass helps with that." "I bet, Marsha." Marsha blushed beet red, Wanda had just said her name... well 'reverently'. It was the first time she'd been on the other side of that, it felt like a low-key proposition. It made her realize, Mike was so oblivious, she'd had have to get naked with him to get the hint... Wanda... wouldn't need such extremes.
"Frank, I need your help..." "Marsha? What's up?" He was slurring, he'd been drinking, probably qualified as drunk, even, not the best sign. "I need to break news to Michael, gently..." "Break him this news gently: He can go frak himself!" "You don't mean that, adjutant." "He can go frak himself!" "Do I need to call the sentries to make you behave? You're not usually this much of a child..." She crossed her arms under her breasts, and tried to look imposing, never the easiest thing when you're in the running for shortest, slightest and most petite woman in the regiment. She did enough exercise, her arms looked bigger than they ought to be. Those heavy boxes didn't shift themselves, although, with the heaviest, she needed help, or a big lever effect. "UJh, sorry, Marsh. I let him get to me again." He didn't know she was the one that had found them, apparently, nor that she was in a relationship with Michael until she did... "He's good at that, it's what let him be a big red sash, so don't let him get to you, calm down... "What do you need to tell him that you need to tell him gently..." "We're going to be honouring the last of the Van Doos, tomorrow. Even their colours section and band got totalled, so ours will substitute. "Wait, she's been recovering for six months, and she hasn't recruited anyone?" "She's still under medication, and medical supervision, but they figure the ceremony will do them, and us, good." "What?" "One of the medals she's getting, the permission had to come from the Lord Commander Militant, and comes straight from the homeworld. They figure a terran division seeing one of their own honoured in a very terran way is good for morale..." "One of our own? She's a red sash!" "She's still terran, and I got the citations for all of her late comrades, too." "What, the entire regiment?" "Yeah, all twenty-five hundred or so. I'm told only two citations will be read." Frank whistled. "That's half a brigade?" "Yeah, your point?" "What the hell we doing with two half-brigades to make a division?" "We're supposed to be reinforced. next week." "How.. Oh wait, you're Division Quartermaster now?" "Acting. Have to make sure we got enough grub, we're getting more mouths to feed." "I guess there's no way to soft coat it for Mike." His animus for the man seemed gone, or at least, forgotten, for now. Marsha took that as a good sign. "Let's go talk to him."
"What, Carmine's coming?" "Commissar-Colonel Carmine Petit, commanding Royal Candian Van Doos, is coming to get her orders, decorations, and promotion, I would imagine, then going back to Terra to recruit." "She made dual-rank?" "I think it's pending until she gets here, but you got the gist." "Why?" "One of the decorations, the Command Laurels? People without a command don't really make proper use of it..." "Why'd they make her dual-rank now though?" "Because making her Lord-Commissar, senior to Rajiv means he'd be out of a job." "He's already been transferred..." "Yeah, but he still works for the division, he's handling things in her absence, until she returns to Terra."
The pipes skirled, the bugle strained, fluffing the note, and the procession started. Navy personnel didn't give accompaniment like this normally. But then, the Lord Commander, Segmentum Pacificus would normally have accompanied this medal all the way here. Or the Warmaster of the Crusade. Both had begged off due to active operations, and so Humel, acting-Lord-General Militant, second theatre front, Sabbat Worlds Crusade, was coming in their stead. Fifty Lord-Generals, Generals and Admirals, part of his retinue, between him and the guest of honor. Oh, and one General-Commissar, who was talking in hushed voices with the guest, well, they worked together... The Navy Band played, until the colours band, 22nd heavy assault took their own places in the procession, and the Navy Band fell out. They were joined, not replaced, by band of the 22nd Narmenian Tank Grenadiers, who kept up the Slow March of the Van Doos, a tune written, apparently, just for the late comrades they were honouring today. As had been planned, hastily, by the Lord-General Militant's staff, and included in some briefing papers Marsha had received, once the guest of honour passed them, the Fusiliers followed, their own band adding their own energy to the hallowed song, the band went first, then company by company, battalion by battalion, then the HQ company came last, the commanding officer closing the march for the Fusiliers, followed by the Division's HQ staff. Marsha had chosen to walk with the fusiliers, not Divisional HQ, and that was taken as a sign of her attachment to her unit. At their destination, a small makeshift scene, a pair of officers had been chosen to wait for them, their greatcoats shiny and formal, their red sashes resplendant, the powersword of Hieronymo Sondar scabbarded along one's thigh, "Je me souviens', sometimes known as the blade of memory, the ancestral chainsabre of the other echoing it from the other side. As the guest of honor approached, Colonel-Commissar Gaunt adjusted his grey kid gloves. Michael did a double-take, so even the minor legend of the commissariat had human feelings... The various troops arrayed themselves on the sod, covering a huge flat area of the plain. In the end, the last people in the procession, the Lord-Commander Militant and his Commissar-General rose up the stairs to join Gaunt and Michael, lord-commander Humel fished his glasses from his pocket, then his speech. "Soldiers of the 22nd Imperial Division-Terra, we are gathered today for a singular event. Singular heroism was on display, and it was on display by the members of this division!" There were scattered, muted cheers all across the maybe 4500 people standing across the field from him. "Commissar Carmine Petit, we are here to salute the sacrifice of your Van Doos. We are also here to salute your heroic conduct, neither allowing their gesture to be in vain, and helping soldiers of this division defend most heroically, the salient that led to us taking the continent. I now ask Colonel-Commissar Gaunt to come read the citation for one of Commissar Petit's medals to be awarded today." "I will read from the citation of Commissar Petit's triple skull: For unmatched, unconquered bravery in the face of the enemy, leading to their complete extermination and utter defeat, and the Imperial conquest of Urdim city." He paused. "Soldiers, especially to you, Lady of the Van Doos, my Tanith first are close by, and as the only survivors of their own planet, they have mentioned to me that they empathize quite closely with you, being the only survivor of your unit, and wish to show their solidarity with you in every way." Carmine's eyes were glimmering, and she reached for a handkerchief. "I now call on Lord Commissar-General Simone Thanh, sabbat worlds crusade second front morale and encouragement, to read from her award." "Thank you, my lord. Soldiers, Carmine, as all commissars in this theatre, reports to me, I must remind you not to try to imitate such behaviour without encouragement from one of my commissars, please. I'd like to think we can have a victory without such drastic casualty rate. I will now read from the citation of her Command Laurels: For commensurate leadership, showing a shining example of bravery uniquely matched to the impact of every life, every bullet, every bayonet thrust at the enemy's heart, the emperor's tacticus wish to single out Commissar Petit, and recommend her for appropriate promotion." "Thank you Simone, and now, I'm told I was expected to read the citation for this medal, and hand it to you, but the regulations for this award are a little... particular. I now call on a true son of Terra, Commissar Michael Goldenrod, to hand you your award first, and then read the citation, in full. Soldiers, I would point out, this award has only ever been handed out to Terran troops such as the Van Doos, and indeed, its name, indicates a Noram origin, exclusively" "Thank you My Lord." Michael adjusted his peaked cap. He held, hanging from a frayed ribbon of antique design was a 38mm crois pattee of bronze, its metal blackened with age, a lionish creature bearing a noble crown atop it, and the high gothic inscription 'Pro Valore', said ribbon which he laid upon her shoulders then knelt, before continuing. "Soldiers of the Imperial 22nd Division of Terra, take note that the Senatorum Imperialis has heard your petition, and thought fit to grant its remit. In your name, a singular act of bravery, self-sacrifice, dedication and true valor, such as is seldom seen, and we agree with your request to grant it, using the antique rules of the Royal Canadic(sic) rites. You've done us proud. Protecting the rights and privileges of all, we recognize you. Protecting the freedoms so few, Defending to the last. Standing hard, brave and fast. We grant the surviving members." He paused, carmine had broken into sobs, and he waited for her to subside, not unkindly. "Of the Van Doos Royal Canadic Regiment, the Royal Canadic Order of Victory, may they bow to no one in service not equally meritant."
He's just smitten with her, isn't she? She was watching Michael as he put the collar of the medal on Carmine. "Hey Marsha?" Wanda just moved into the empty space next to her, as senior nco she was used to being given space, having company right now sounded good. "You doing ok?" "I'm doing fine, how you doing?" Marsha could see her friend's rank tabs had been reinstated. So Michael was willing to forgive, this time, interesting. "I'm ok." But Wanda sounded tense, Marsha wanted to hug her, tell her everything would be all right. Which was ridiculous, Wanda outmassed her almost two to one, and certainly didn't need physical protection. But... Where was that coming from? "He's really into her, isn't he?" "What?" "Come on, I know you two were dating for a while, it probably hurts seeing him like this?" "No, well not as much as I thought. How are you noticing, anyways? He's just being a hero, like he's supposed to be." "She's blushing, like she knows what she's thinking about..." "She's not blushing, she was crying, and her red eyes look like a blush from this far off... I'm not his only ex around though, am I?" "We stopped talking when I had my relationship with him, that was a mistake, I'm sure you'd have given me great advice..." "Well, if we're being honest, I don't know if I'd taken that that well, I was harbouring my own little crush, way back when... That I didn't get to hear any sordid details, well, I'm thankful." "Look at us, we're watching him with a gal, there's two of us, and he was last seen with a fourth, what a cad." There was no heat in her voice. "I'd take him back, if I thought he sincerely meant it, I'd totally take him back." "I'd... probably take him back too, I thought he was doing some bullshit like holding my rank tabs in exchange for something, but he was totally on the up and up, and just held me to my own word. A lot easier to hate him when you think he's sleazy..." "You'd think we both know better, he's not lying to us, but he's not treating us like treasured partners either, you'd think we'd get better offers or something..." "This regiment's not where you go looking for love, it probably qualifies as one of the worse places, actually." "Why do you say that?" "If Michael's the biggest catch in this pond, what does it say about the water?" "It would say a lot about the water, but he's not..." "Oh? Who's still unattached." "That's the point I was trying to make, sorry, the best catch was Iguwolé, and now he's no longer unattached, but he met Aquamarina with the regiment..." "Hmm, I hadn't thought of that." "Also, maybe the male gender's overhyped..." "I'm not sure I'd be willing to give men up completely, but you raise a valid point... I've certainly been better treated by women than men, upper echelon of the regiment from either sex excluded." "You think Sophia's giving you a hard time because she's jealous?" "Well, my discipline problems aren't only her fault, but she certainly shows more respect to Cyn." "Who's practically her sister-in-law at this point..." "What are you saying?" "That she's hardly impartial, but I can totally see her not liking a Tempestus-trained officer showing her off." "Or picking one and rejecting the other?" "Well true, but one having command experience, and the other learning on the job would give her more rationales for choice..." "I'm totally losing this comparison with Cyn, aren't I?" "Let's talk about something else..." "You know what? I've just discovered the key to a mystery that's been bugging me since scholam..." "What mystery?" "Why, when you say 'Mike' it sounds different from everyone else. I finally figured out, you just always say it like he's an important person, rev.. reverently." "It's that obvious huh?" "To me it is, but I guess I know you a little." "Sir, we've spent more time together than anyone, including the Commissar... I even caught someone spreading rumours once..." "What happened?" "I thought I'd beat them up, then I remembered myself, and my station... And reminded them that a second lieutenant's unit seldom functioned without ammonition... They apologized, profusely, and promised not to do it again." "You'd have withheld their ammonition?" "No, at least, not to the entire unit, not just for them, but they didn't know that... They bought a farm the next day, I felt awful." "I'm sorry, it's never t he right time, is it? But we've been spending too much time around commissars, such trickery is becoming normal..." "Speak for yourself sir, I've always had to resort to trickery, considering everyone in the fusiliers is bigger than my humble self." "How did you even manage to enlist?" "I ran faster than everyone sir, not having that much mass helps with that." "I bet, Marsha." Marsha blushed beet red, Wanda had just said her name... well 'reverently'. It was the first time she'd been on the other side of that, it felt like a low-key proposition. It made her realize, Mike was so oblivious, she'd had have to get naked with him to get the hint... Wanda... wouldn't need such extremes.
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Year of Birth
40935 CE
834 Years old
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Michael Goldenrod
(boyfriend)
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