“Is that why you can't come down? I heard a lot of hoopla over that.”
“Yes. We're shipping out ASAP. I'd like this squared away.”
“Well fine. But we'll need you to come down and sign the proper forms. It will take at least a month to process.”
“For a name change?” The cat snarled, practically shrieking. His ears flattened in rage. The woman blinked, eyes wide and suddenly fearful. “It's...damn it! I don't have time for this! We're shipping out in less than a day! Get it together Marine!” He snarled, voice deepening.
“Well!” The woman said and cut the circuit.
Jethro closed his eyes and counted to ten, tail thrashing. He didn't understand the emotional outburst. Yes, he had been mad, but something else had been there as well. Something primal, something he had tapped into or had tapped into him. At least he thought so. He wasn't certain if he was making excuses for himself. “Damn,” he said as his boss pinged him. He opened a channel through the ship's net.
“Kicking over anthills?” Valenko asked tiredly.
“Sir?”
“I just got a rather nasty call from an ensign in charge of bu-personnel. They aren't happy with you. It seems a PFC put in a complaint, complete with a recording. I haven't bothered watching it.”
Jethro sighed and then ran a hand over his head. “Sir, I was tasked with getting my name squared away. It was supposed to be simple, or so I thought.”
“Apparently not. The usual red tape?”
“Yes, sir. Red riggers tape, and the damn bureaucrats are using the whole roll.”
“And probably digging for more. You'd think they'd realize that they should be helping us, not obstructing us. Typical,” the bear sniffed. “Well, it'll have to keep. I'm not loosing you to some crap like that. Shelve it for later, but keep in mind, it's going to be here waiting when you get back.”
“Aye aye, sir.”
“Good. Bret's transfer has been approved by the way. Apparently Gunny Schultz put in for a veteran to replace a DI who had been injured in a training exercise. Bret had training and has qualified after helping you out here on the ship with our brood. So, he's headed down, like it or not.”
“Aye, sir. I'll let him know.”
“I already did. He's got the e-mail. And I've gotten a protest too. I'm ducking him; I'm too busy. I'll talk to him just before he leaves.”
“Aye, sir. I'll let him know it's nothing he did.”
“Good. You do that.”
---( | ) --- ( | )---
PFC Clive Bret was transferred ground side in one of the last actions of the ship before she departed. He actually fought the transfer; he felt guilty over it. “Just do us proud. Gunny needs someone with experience to help with training. You've got that. And you're the one Marine on this ship who I know won't mind living on that planet,” the bear said.
“Aye aye, sir,” Bret said, saluting the bear. Valenko returned the salute. Clive stuck his hand out and Valenko engulfed it with his own paw. The human laughed and then to the bear's surprise hugged him. “Take care, sir,” Clive said.
“You too son. I'm proud of you. I'll see you again. Now go take care of things ground side,” Valenko said gruffly as the embrace ended.
“Will do, sir,” Clive said. He picked up his duffel and then was gone.
He spent the two-hour flight staring at nothing at all but wondering what his new daughter looked like. The last he'd seen of her had been an ultrasound. What would she look like? Did she have her mother's eyes and nose? His? A mix of the two? Did she have hair yet?
When the shuttle landed he made his way through the group, shuffling along until he passed through the chain link fence. His head was down so he didn't see or sense someone near until he heard a happy cry and then looked up. His wife dived into his arms and hugged him fiercely on the edge of the space port terminal.
She kissed him long and lovingly, for the moment making him forget about his not wanting to be there. When the embrace
“Yes. We're shipping out ASAP. I'd like this squared away.”
“Well fine. But we'll need you to come down and sign the proper forms. It will take at least a month to process.”
“For a name change?” The cat snarled, practically shrieking. His ears flattened in rage. The woman blinked, eyes wide and suddenly fearful. “It's...damn it! I don't have time for this! We're shipping out in less than a day! Get it together Marine!” He snarled, voice deepening.
“Well!” The woman said and cut the circuit.
Jethro closed his eyes and counted to ten, tail thrashing. He didn't understand the emotional outburst. Yes, he had been mad, but something else had been there as well. Something primal, something he had tapped into or had tapped into him. At least he thought so. He wasn't certain if he was making excuses for himself. “Damn,” he said as his boss pinged him. He opened a channel through the ship's net.
“Kicking over anthills?” Valenko asked tiredly.
“Sir?”
“I just got a rather nasty call from an ensign in charge of bu-personnel. They aren't happy with you. It seems a PFC put in a complaint, complete with a recording. I haven't bothered watching it.”
Jethro sighed and then ran a hand over his head. “Sir, I was tasked with getting my name squared away. It was supposed to be simple, or so I thought.”
“Apparently not. The usual red tape?”
“Yes, sir. Red riggers tape, and the damn bureaucrats are using the whole roll.”
“And probably digging for more. You'd think they'd realize that they should be helping us, not obstructing us. Typical,” the bear sniffed. “Well, it'll have to keep. I'm not loosing you to some crap like that. Shelve it for later, but keep in mind, it's going to be here waiting when you get back.”
“Aye aye, sir.”
“Good. Bret's transfer has been approved by the way. Apparently Gunny Schultz put in for a veteran to replace a DI who had been injured in a training exercise. Bret had training and has qualified after helping you out here on the ship with our brood. So, he's headed down, like it or not.”
“Aye, sir. I'll let him know.”
“I already did. He's got the e-mail. And I've gotten a protest too. I'm ducking him; I'm too busy. I'll talk to him just before he leaves.”
“Aye, sir. I'll let him know it's nothing he did.”
“Good. You do that.”
---( | ) --- ( | )---
PFC Clive Bret was transferred ground side in one of the last actions of the ship before she departed. He actually fought the transfer; he felt guilty over it. “Just do us proud. Gunny needs someone with experience to help with training. You've got that. And you're the one Marine on this ship who I know won't mind living on that planet,” the bear said.
“Aye aye, sir,” Bret said, saluting the bear. Valenko returned the salute. Clive stuck his hand out and Valenko engulfed it with his own paw. The human laughed and then to the bear's surprise hugged him. “Take care, sir,” Clive said.
“You too son. I'm proud of you. I'll see you again. Now go take care of things ground side,” Valenko said gruffly as the embrace ended.
“Will do, sir,” Clive said. He picked up his duffel and then was gone.
He spent the two-hour flight staring at nothing at all but wondering what his new daughter looked like. The last he'd seen of her had been an ultrasound. What would she look like? Did she have her mother's eyes and nose? His? A mix of the two? Did she have hair yet?
When the shuttle landed he made his way through the group, shuffling along until he passed through the chain link fence. His head was down so he didn't see or sense someone near until he heard a happy cry and then looked up. His wife dived into his arms and hugged him fiercely on the edge of the space port terminal.
She kissed him long and lovingly, for the moment making him forget about his not wanting to be there. When the embrace
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