Stardate 48002.17: A year before the start of the Federation-Klingon War, Starfleet Marine Corporal Brigid Kelley becomes involved in covert intelligence work. With the threats of fracturing alliances and internal rivalries, she must rely on her resillience and skill to navigate the challenges that could determine the future of the Federation.
Author's Note: The series is an unabashed homage to W.E.B. Griffin's series, "The Corps." I've borrowed the framework and switched the backgrounds, but my intent is to recapture the essence of his series and set it against the war years of Star Trek: Deep Space Nine (The Klingon and Dominion Wars).
Historian's Note: This story takes place three weeks after the events of the Star Trek: Deep Space Nine's second season finale, "The Jem'Hadar," and roughly two months before the third season episode, "The Search."
NOTE: In accordance with TBBS policies, all adult language has been censored. If you wish to read the uncensored version, you can do so at Ad Astra by clicking HERE.
Star Trek: Delta, Stars, & Anchor
"Esprit de Corps"
by Lord McCovey Cove
Chapter One
Archanis IV
Near the Federation-Klingon border
Stardate 48002.17 (January 1, 2371)
Starfleet Marine Barracks, Archanis
Lance Corporal Brigid Geraldine Kelley, Starfleet Marine Corps, stood in front of the mirror and fussed over her service dress uniform's gig line within her shared barracks. To celebrate the new year, she received a short liberty pass to explore the city. She would not depart the barracks without ensuring that she represented the Corps in the best possible light. Her attention to detail reflected her twenty-six weeks of boot camp inspections and eighteen months of service since induction. She could still hear the Assistant Drill Instructor shouting so close to her face that flecks of spit would hit her cheek with every sharp consonant. After all, any discordance of her uniform’s line, extending from her neck to her trousers, had immense consequences for the Federation’s future.
She finished her adjustments and scrutinized her reflection. With her dark brown hair kept to the personal grooming regulation of shoulder-length, it framed her tanned face better than it did when she first reported for duty. Kelley followed the rigorous physical requirements for her short stature and admired how the uniform showcased her well-defined arms and thighs.
Kelley's career as a marine began as a heavy weapons private with the first platoon of Bravo Company, within the Fourth Marine Expeditionary Brigade (MEB). No marine ever aspired to be posted to the less prestigious units assigned to the fringes of Federation territory.
Unless they wanted to create distance from the core worlds, possibly because they were running from something or someone.
Kelley was among those trying to put her past behind her. However, being posted to a border colony world felt like going back home, since she grew up on the Federation colony on Kessik IV.
She submitted the results of her prerequisite medical check, her physical fitness certificate, and a copy of her secondary school diploma (including eighteen units of university-level coursework through advanced placement) with a high grade-point-average to Staff Sergeant Palamo of the Starfleet Marine Corps. The kind NCO gave her the option of joining the next recruit training class in thirty days, or wait four months before the next class would assemble.
Because of the distance between Kessik and the Marine Corps Recruit Depot (MCRD) on Andor, it would take three weeks and change to arrive there. The first leg of her trip was a runabout to a nearby Starbase, then a transfer to a marine transport to Andor. Kelley understood she had to depart immediately to arrive on time. That suited her just fine.
Her father, an elected member of the township's council, often took out his frustration upon the members of his family who could not defend themselves. With regularity, her father would express himself through physical and emotional abuse. The more he vented against Kelley, the deeper her conviction that she would leave Kessik at the earliest opportunity.
That led to a discussion with the non-commissioned officers at the Starfleet office. Although they urged her to seek a commission as an officer given her grades, an appointment to Starfleet Academy (or any university for that matter) required her parents' permission as she'd not yet reached the age of majority. Her father had very particular designs on her life that Kelley disagreed with. The only course of action, given the narrow circumstances of her situation, was to wait until the day of her eighteen birthday to enlist. Since she sought strength and power, her choices were to join Starfleet Security or the Starfleet Marine Corps. Staff Sergeant Palamo charmed her with the traditions and culture of the Corps that appealed to Kelley enough to press her adult fingerprint to the enlistment contract.
On the night before her departure, her mother and younger sister, Riley, held a birthday party for her. Her father arrived ready to celebrate the occasion, however, her party came to a sudden end when Kelley broke the news. True to fashion, her father objected in the strongest possible terms, and years of Kelley's pent-up anger resulted in her use of physical violence against him for the first and only time. She dislocated his right shoulder, then stomped on his right elbow resulting in a compound fracture.
Despite the extreme level of physical damage done, her parents never called law enforcement to their home in order to avoid tarnishing her father’s reputation. While her mother repaired the damage done with an in-home bone knitter and dermal regenerator, Kelley spent the night in a transient housing facility in the township, then left for the spaceport. Since that night, neither a missive from nor to her home passed within subspace.
She passed through Receiving and entered Class 14/48 on Andor and for eighteen weeks as a Private Recruit, where Kelley used her rage to push herself to the physical limits and train as hard as she could. She excelled at the confidence course and led her team during the Crucible. Her performance as a recruit resulted in being lauded by her drill instructor and her company commander, and she carried the guidon for her class during graduation, where she received her Delta, Stars, and Anchor and was sworn in as a Marine.
She received a promotion to lance corporal upon graduation because of her pre-enlistment college units, and the military assigned her to Archanis in a heavy weapons platoon. There, she took the annual weapons qualification and proudly wore her Expert Bar for Phaser Rifles and Phaser Pistols. She qualified for compression rifles and cannons shortly after; leading to her assignment. Kelley found she had a flair for all weapons, especially phaser rifles and bladed weapons.
Kelley checked her reflection once more before moving out of the bunkroom she shared with her squad mates and into the company's complex. Archanis IV housed the entire Fourth, but Alpha, Beta, and Gamma Companies received housing within the capital city's center. She counted herself lucky that she got the assignment to Archanis instead of some of the other, more depressing colonies like Sherman's Planet or worse, the guard detachment at Tantalus. At least Archanis had an entertainment center large enough to house a majority of the Starfleet personnel assigned there. Not to mention the occasional Klingon military detachment that found themselves guests of Archanis' hospitality after long patrols of the shared border with the Federation.
Such as that week. The colonial government had invited members of the Klingon Defense Force, the Bajoran Militia, and the recently reformed Cardassian military to discuss Alpha Quadrant relations regarding the impending threat of the Dominion in the Gamma Quadrant. The primary concern for the marines lay in rubbing shoulders with the prideful Klingons and Cardassians as they walked the streets of the colony's capital city. Orders from her company commanding officer outlined that any incidents with Klingon or Cardassian military personnel may lead to "political solutions."
Her company's gunnery sergeant clarified that lance corporals would be expendable under those circumstances.
In her time at Archanis, Kelley made it a point to keep her head down and focus on her duties. When given the chance, she stuck to her usual spots instead of trying anything too different. She made fast friends with the owner of the Furball Bar & Grill near the city's outer limits, far from the prying eyes of the government and the law enforcement agencies. The owner, a former marine himself, took an instant liking to her and treated her like his long-lost daughter.
Owen Hardester made it to the rank of master gunnery sergeant before calling it quits and retiring on Archanis. With over thirty years in the Corps, she valued his advice on fast promotion to corporal. His advice led her to pursue and get certifications in many departments, acquiring qualifications in various weapons along the way. He guided her to study for the rank examinations. Kelley completed the exam six weeks prior and expected to place high on the corporal's list within the next two weeks, after the selection committee made their decision. He promised to throw her a party when her promotion came through.
Promotions within the lower enlisted ranks found competition as you reached for non-commissioned officer status, and any negative mark on her record would sink her ambitions and lead her toward a career as a "terminal lance."
"Going out for a night on the town, are we?" asked the muscular human buck sergeant. The departmental insignia of the base Provost Marshal sat on the upper left arm of her uniform. She stood, along with a male Andorian corporal and two PFCs, within the gatehouse into the barracks facility. She inspected Kelley's liberty order with a jaundiced eye.
"Yes, Sergeant," Kelley replied as respectfully as she could. She disliked the hassle one needed to endure in order to pass outside the gate. Privates and lance corporals were seen as unintelligent by officers, commissioned or otherwise.
The sergeant nodded. "Very well. Six-hour pass for liberty," she noted to the corporal, who jotted down the determination on his PADD. Her attention returned to Kelley. "Make sure you check back in here by oh-three-hundred."
She intended to return sooner and came within a hair's breadth of saying so with a biting remark in mind. Her caustic wit inherited from her father and grandfather was drilled out of her personality the very first week at MCRD Andor. The now-Pavlovian response to an NCO's order continued to be, "Yes, Sergeant."
"Stay safe out here, Kelley, and keep out of trouble. I don't want to wake up your lieutenant to get you out of the city jail. Understand?"
"Yes, Sergeant."
"Off you go, Lance Corporal."
"Yes, Sergeant," she repeated for the last time and entered the city's main thoroughfare along the center of the governmental section. Kelley waved her hand at the nearest taxi and took a seat inside once it drew near.
The human driver appeared to be significantly younger than Kelley's twenty years. "Where to?"
"You have your hack license?" she questioned warily.
"Yeah, I've got it, General," he promised as he twisted around to give her a look up and down. "Where to?"
"The Furball."
Gunny Hardester greeted her as he usually did when she appeared at the Furball. At forty-one minutes past twenty-one hundred Kelley received his customary big smile, big hug, and a big announcement to the rest of the patrons that the marines have landed. Few of her fellow active duty marines went beyond the city limits, especially not to a place lacking the desired entertainment of an intimate nature.
Kelley smiled at Hardester. "Thank you for that, Gunny."
A couple of fingers of a blue liquid within an old-fashioned glass appeared before her on the bar. "On the house, Brigid," said the bartender with a smile on her lips. The Gunny always extended a courtesy to Kelley whenever she patronized the establishment.
She uttered her thanks and moved away from the bar as quickly as possible with the drink in hand. She was led to a private room in the bar area, away from onlookers. Inside, he set up an intimate area where his friends and family could enjoy a meal or a drink without sharing their conversations.
This inner area, Kelley learned on her second visit to the establishment, played host to people of all walks of life. To her knowledge, she was the only active duty marine granted access there. The gunny told her a month after he introduced her he found her to be a trustworthy person. She knew how to keep her mouth shut, and most marine officers "can't look past the bars on their own uniform to take in the big picture."
Not much had changed; she had replied that night.
Kelley settled into the bar within that area and plunked down her Federation credit chit so that the bartender could keep an open tab for her. While the first drink may have been free, the second through ninth drinks allowed him to turn a profit. Tonight, however, she accepted the first free drink and ended it there. Her dinner arrived soon after she ordered it, being a locally famous dish involving a native fish and potatoes grilled with spices that the gunny said was a family secret. Regardless, she couldn’t resist sampling it every time she went to the Furball.
Card Night at the Furball saw games taking place between pairs and quintets in the corner of the room. Poker, blackjack, rummy, even a game of Go Fish appeared to be in store for her that night.
"Can I interest you in another drink?" asked the Gunny.
"Not for me. I'm on a six-hour pass tonight."
The Gunny nodded his approval of her discipline. "Well done. You're going to go far in the Corps, I can promise you that."
She accepted his praise with a smile. "Thanks, Gunny. I'm still waiting to hear about the exam results."
"Don't you worry about that, now. Tonight, enjoy your dinner and join in on that poker game over there with Gerry and Vincent," he said with a point of his finger. "They're trying to get a money game going."
That piqued her curiosity. Poker for money or barter was one of the many ways they passed the time at the barracks during the long stretches of time between watches. Since the company was already forward deployed and holding position until new orders came down from the Command Element of the brigade, cards were in demand. So far, she had accumulated an extra week's service allowance from the Corps for use within the city's economy.
"Sounds like fun to me," she admitted, trying to keep the excitement out of her expression. "Maybe I'll hit them up later, but right now, I'd like to give this fish a new home."
"Temporarily, of course," said the Gunny with a wink. "I'll let you be. Come find me before you leave, tonight. I want to give you something."
Kelley cocked her head to the side, but knew to exercise patience. "All right."
Before oh-one-hundred, Kelley took her winnings from the table and thanked the men for "teaching" her how to play. She kept her eyes on Gerry and Vincent, the Gunny's two younger brothers and also veteran marines, looking for their tells and reading their expressions. Despite losing the first five hands, she ultimately outplayed the two hustlers. Although they begged her for a few more hands, she opted to take her leave for the night and call herself a taxi back to the barracks.
She approached the bar and passed by the door, back out into the front dining section. The Gunny took himself a meal at the bar as the crowds had died down since her arrival a little under seven hours ago. Kelley took the stool next to him and set her now flush credit chit on the bar's surface. She noticed he consumed the same dish she had earlier and smiled at him. "You wanted to see me, Gunny?"
Gunny Hardester swallowed the bite in his mouth and nodded. He reached behind the bar to pull out a long, thick gift box, and placed it on the bar. A red and gold ribbon kept the top of the box secured to the bottom. "That's for you."
Kelley hesitated to accept it. "What is it?"
"Only one way to find out."
"I couldn't possibly-"
He interrupted her, "Yes, you can. Consider it an order from an old NCO who still outranks you. Besides, I don't have any kids to give it to, and you're the closest thing."
She eyed him for a long moment, still hesitant about accepting the gift. In the end, she chose to not embarrass him by insisting against it. "Thank you, Gunny. I appreciate it."
"Aren't you going to open it?"
"Right here?"
"Of course."
Kelley took the box and tugged on the ribbon and it undid itself under the pressure. She pulled the top off and peeled back the tissue paper, keeping the contents from her view. Upon recognizing it, her eyes grew wide and her protest intensified in ferocity. "I cannot accept this, Gunny."
The Gunny waved her off. "Take it. Once you make corporal, you're going to need your own, anyway."
"I haven't made corporal, yet."
"You will."
"Then, maybe you should keep it until then," she said, inching the box back toward him. "I can't really be caught with one of these things in the barracks before it's time."
The Gunny grunted, "If they give you any [CENSORED] about it, you tell them it‘s a personal gift from Master Gunnery Sergeant Owen Hardester of the Fourth Marines. You tell them to come out here and take it up with me."
Author's Note: The series is an unabashed homage to W.E.B. Griffin's series, "The Corps." I've borrowed the framework and switched the backgrounds, but my intent is to recapture the essence of his series and set it against the war years of Star Trek: Deep Space Nine (The Klingon and Dominion Wars).
Historian's Note: This story takes place three weeks after the events of the Star Trek: Deep Space Nine's second season finale, "The Jem'Hadar," and roughly two months before the third season episode, "The Search."
NOTE: In accordance with TBBS policies, all adult language has been censored. If you wish to read the uncensored version, you can do so at Ad Astra by clicking HERE.
Star Trek: Delta, Stars, & Anchor
"Esprit de Corps"
by Lord McCovey Cove
Chapter One
Archanis IV
Near the Federation-Klingon border
Stardate 48002.17 (January 1, 2371)
Starfleet Marine Barracks, Archanis
Lance Corporal Brigid Geraldine Kelley, Starfleet Marine Corps, stood in front of the mirror and fussed over her service dress uniform's gig line within her shared barracks. To celebrate the new year, she received a short liberty pass to explore the city. She would not depart the barracks without ensuring that she represented the Corps in the best possible light. Her attention to detail reflected her twenty-six weeks of boot camp inspections and eighteen months of service since induction. She could still hear the Assistant Drill Instructor shouting so close to her face that flecks of spit would hit her cheek with every sharp consonant. After all, any discordance of her uniform’s line, extending from her neck to her trousers, had immense consequences for the Federation’s future.
She finished her adjustments and scrutinized her reflection. With her dark brown hair kept to the personal grooming regulation of shoulder-length, it framed her tanned face better than it did when she first reported for duty. Kelley followed the rigorous physical requirements for her short stature and admired how the uniform showcased her well-defined arms and thighs.
Kelley's career as a marine began as a heavy weapons private with the first platoon of Bravo Company, within the Fourth Marine Expeditionary Brigade (MEB). No marine ever aspired to be posted to the less prestigious units assigned to the fringes of Federation territory.
Unless they wanted to create distance from the core worlds, possibly because they were running from something or someone.
Kelley was among those trying to put her past behind her. However, being posted to a border colony world felt like going back home, since she grew up on the Federation colony on Kessik IV.
She submitted the results of her prerequisite medical check, her physical fitness certificate, and a copy of her secondary school diploma (including eighteen units of university-level coursework through advanced placement) with a high grade-point-average to Staff Sergeant Palamo of the Starfleet Marine Corps. The kind NCO gave her the option of joining the next recruit training class in thirty days, or wait four months before the next class would assemble.
Because of the distance between Kessik and the Marine Corps Recruit Depot (MCRD) on Andor, it would take three weeks and change to arrive there. The first leg of her trip was a runabout to a nearby Starbase, then a transfer to a marine transport to Andor. Kelley understood she had to depart immediately to arrive on time. That suited her just fine.
Her father, an elected member of the township's council, often took out his frustration upon the members of his family who could not defend themselves. With regularity, her father would express himself through physical and emotional abuse. The more he vented against Kelley, the deeper her conviction that she would leave Kessik at the earliest opportunity.
That led to a discussion with the non-commissioned officers at the Starfleet office. Although they urged her to seek a commission as an officer given her grades, an appointment to Starfleet Academy (or any university for that matter) required her parents' permission as she'd not yet reached the age of majority. Her father had very particular designs on her life that Kelley disagreed with. The only course of action, given the narrow circumstances of her situation, was to wait until the day of her eighteen birthday to enlist. Since she sought strength and power, her choices were to join Starfleet Security or the Starfleet Marine Corps. Staff Sergeant Palamo charmed her with the traditions and culture of the Corps that appealed to Kelley enough to press her adult fingerprint to the enlistment contract.
On the night before her departure, her mother and younger sister, Riley, held a birthday party for her. Her father arrived ready to celebrate the occasion, however, her party came to a sudden end when Kelley broke the news. True to fashion, her father objected in the strongest possible terms, and years of Kelley's pent-up anger resulted in her use of physical violence against him for the first and only time. She dislocated his right shoulder, then stomped on his right elbow resulting in a compound fracture.
Despite the extreme level of physical damage done, her parents never called law enforcement to their home in order to avoid tarnishing her father’s reputation. While her mother repaired the damage done with an in-home bone knitter and dermal regenerator, Kelley spent the night in a transient housing facility in the township, then left for the spaceport. Since that night, neither a missive from nor to her home passed within subspace.
She passed through Receiving and entered Class 14/48 on Andor and for eighteen weeks as a Private Recruit, where Kelley used her rage to push herself to the physical limits and train as hard as she could. She excelled at the confidence course and led her team during the Crucible. Her performance as a recruit resulted in being lauded by her drill instructor and her company commander, and she carried the guidon for her class during graduation, where she received her Delta, Stars, and Anchor and was sworn in as a Marine.
She received a promotion to lance corporal upon graduation because of her pre-enlistment college units, and the military assigned her to Archanis in a heavy weapons platoon. There, she took the annual weapons qualification and proudly wore her Expert Bar for Phaser Rifles and Phaser Pistols. She qualified for compression rifles and cannons shortly after; leading to her assignment. Kelley found she had a flair for all weapons, especially phaser rifles and bladed weapons.
Kelley checked her reflection once more before moving out of the bunkroom she shared with her squad mates and into the company's complex. Archanis IV housed the entire Fourth, but Alpha, Beta, and Gamma Companies received housing within the capital city's center. She counted herself lucky that she got the assignment to Archanis instead of some of the other, more depressing colonies like Sherman's Planet or worse, the guard detachment at Tantalus. At least Archanis had an entertainment center large enough to house a majority of the Starfleet personnel assigned there. Not to mention the occasional Klingon military detachment that found themselves guests of Archanis' hospitality after long patrols of the shared border with the Federation.
Such as that week. The colonial government had invited members of the Klingon Defense Force, the Bajoran Militia, and the recently reformed Cardassian military to discuss Alpha Quadrant relations regarding the impending threat of the Dominion in the Gamma Quadrant. The primary concern for the marines lay in rubbing shoulders with the prideful Klingons and Cardassians as they walked the streets of the colony's capital city. Orders from her company commanding officer outlined that any incidents with Klingon or Cardassian military personnel may lead to "political solutions."
Her company's gunnery sergeant clarified that lance corporals would be expendable under those circumstances.
In her time at Archanis, Kelley made it a point to keep her head down and focus on her duties. When given the chance, she stuck to her usual spots instead of trying anything too different. She made fast friends with the owner of the Furball Bar & Grill near the city's outer limits, far from the prying eyes of the government and the law enforcement agencies. The owner, a former marine himself, took an instant liking to her and treated her like his long-lost daughter.
Owen Hardester made it to the rank of master gunnery sergeant before calling it quits and retiring on Archanis. With over thirty years in the Corps, she valued his advice on fast promotion to corporal. His advice led her to pursue and get certifications in many departments, acquiring qualifications in various weapons along the way. He guided her to study for the rank examinations. Kelley completed the exam six weeks prior and expected to place high on the corporal's list within the next two weeks, after the selection committee made their decision. He promised to throw her a party when her promotion came through.
Promotions within the lower enlisted ranks found competition as you reached for non-commissioned officer status, and any negative mark on her record would sink her ambitions and lead her toward a career as a "terminal lance."
"Going out for a night on the town, are we?" asked the muscular human buck sergeant. The departmental insignia of the base Provost Marshal sat on the upper left arm of her uniform. She stood, along with a male Andorian corporal and two PFCs, within the gatehouse into the barracks facility. She inspected Kelley's liberty order with a jaundiced eye.
"Yes, Sergeant," Kelley replied as respectfully as she could. She disliked the hassle one needed to endure in order to pass outside the gate. Privates and lance corporals were seen as unintelligent by officers, commissioned or otherwise.
The sergeant nodded. "Very well. Six-hour pass for liberty," she noted to the corporal, who jotted down the determination on his PADD. Her attention returned to Kelley. "Make sure you check back in here by oh-three-hundred."
She intended to return sooner and came within a hair's breadth of saying so with a biting remark in mind. Her caustic wit inherited from her father and grandfather was drilled out of her personality the very first week at MCRD Andor. The now-Pavlovian response to an NCO's order continued to be, "Yes, Sergeant."
"Stay safe out here, Kelley, and keep out of trouble. I don't want to wake up your lieutenant to get you out of the city jail. Understand?"
"Yes, Sergeant."
"Off you go, Lance Corporal."
"Yes, Sergeant," she repeated for the last time and entered the city's main thoroughfare along the center of the governmental section. Kelley waved her hand at the nearest taxi and took a seat inside once it drew near.
The human driver appeared to be significantly younger than Kelley's twenty years. "Where to?"
"You have your hack license?" she questioned warily.
"Yeah, I've got it, General," he promised as he twisted around to give her a look up and down. "Where to?"
"The Furball."
Gunny Hardester greeted her as he usually did when she appeared at the Furball. At forty-one minutes past twenty-one hundred Kelley received his customary big smile, big hug, and a big announcement to the rest of the patrons that the marines have landed. Few of her fellow active duty marines went beyond the city limits, especially not to a place lacking the desired entertainment of an intimate nature.
Kelley smiled at Hardester. "Thank you for that, Gunny."
A couple of fingers of a blue liquid within an old-fashioned glass appeared before her on the bar. "On the house, Brigid," said the bartender with a smile on her lips. The Gunny always extended a courtesy to Kelley whenever she patronized the establishment.
She uttered her thanks and moved away from the bar as quickly as possible with the drink in hand. She was led to a private room in the bar area, away from onlookers. Inside, he set up an intimate area where his friends and family could enjoy a meal or a drink without sharing their conversations.
This inner area, Kelley learned on her second visit to the establishment, played host to people of all walks of life. To her knowledge, she was the only active duty marine granted access there. The gunny told her a month after he introduced her he found her to be a trustworthy person. She knew how to keep her mouth shut, and most marine officers "can't look past the bars on their own uniform to take in the big picture."
Not much had changed; she had replied that night.
Kelley settled into the bar within that area and plunked down her Federation credit chit so that the bartender could keep an open tab for her. While the first drink may have been free, the second through ninth drinks allowed him to turn a profit. Tonight, however, she accepted the first free drink and ended it there. Her dinner arrived soon after she ordered it, being a locally famous dish involving a native fish and potatoes grilled with spices that the gunny said was a family secret. Regardless, she couldn’t resist sampling it every time she went to the Furball.
Card Night at the Furball saw games taking place between pairs and quintets in the corner of the room. Poker, blackjack, rummy, even a game of Go Fish appeared to be in store for her that night.
"Can I interest you in another drink?" asked the Gunny.
"Not for me. I'm on a six-hour pass tonight."
The Gunny nodded his approval of her discipline. "Well done. You're going to go far in the Corps, I can promise you that."
She accepted his praise with a smile. "Thanks, Gunny. I'm still waiting to hear about the exam results."
"Don't you worry about that, now. Tonight, enjoy your dinner and join in on that poker game over there with Gerry and Vincent," he said with a point of his finger. "They're trying to get a money game going."
That piqued her curiosity. Poker for money or barter was one of the many ways they passed the time at the barracks during the long stretches of time between watches. Since the company was already forward deployed and holding position until new orders came down from the Command Element of the brigade, cards were in demand. So far, she had accumulated an extra week's service allowance from the Corps for use within the city's economy.
"Sounds like fun to me," she admitted, trying to keep the excitement out of her expression. "Maybe I'll hit them up later, but right now, I'd like to give this fish a new home."
"Temporarily, of course," said the Gunny with a wink. "I'll let you be. Come find me before you leave, tonight. I want to give you something."
Kelley cocked her head to the side, but knew to exercise patience. "All right."
Before oh-one-hundred, Kelley took her winnings from the table and thanked the men for "teaching" her how to play. She kept her eyes on Gerry and Vincent, the Gunny's two younger brothers and also veteran marines, looking for their tells and reading their expressions. Despite losing the first five hands, she ultimately outplayed the two hustlers. Although they begged her for a few more hands, she opted to take her leave for the night and call herself a taxi back to the barracks.
She approached the bar and passed by the door, back out into the front dining section. The Gunny took himself a meal at the bar as the crowds had died down since her arrival a little under seven hours ago. Kelley took the stool next to him and set her now flush credit chit on the bar's surface. She noticed he consumed the same dish she had earlier and smiled at him. "You wanted to see me, Gunny?"
Gunny Hardester swallowed the bite in his mouth and nodded. He reached behind the bar to pull out a long, thick gift box, and placed it on the bar. A red and gold ribbon kept the top of the box secured to the bottom. "That's for you."
Kelley hesitated to accept it. "What is it?"
"Only one way to find out."
"I couldn't possibly-"
He interrupted her, "Yes, you can. Consider it an order from an old NCO who still outranks you. Besides, I don't have any kids to give it to, and you're the closest thing."
She eyed him for a long moment, still hesitant about accepting the gift. In the end, she chose to not embarrass him by insisting against it. "Thank you, Gunny. I appreciate it."
"Aren't you going to open it?"
"Right here?"
"Of course."
Kelley took the box and tugged on the ribbon and it undid itself under the pressure. She pulled the top off and peeled back the tissue paper, keeping the contents from her view. Upon recognizing it, her eyes grew wide and her protest intensified in ferocity. "I cannot accept this, Gunny."
The Gunny waved her off. "Take it. Once you make corporal, you're going to need your own, anyway."
"I haven't made corporal, yet."
"You will."
"Then, maybe you should keep it until then," she said, inching the box back toward him. "I can't really be caught with one of these things in the barracks before it's time."
The Gunny grunted, "If they give you any [CENSORED] about it, you tell them it‘s a personal gift from Master Gunnery Sergeant Owen Hardester of the Fourth Marines. You tell them to come out here and take it up with me."
