“I want you to be my sergeant major.”
Noah looked at her in shock, then laughed out loud, breaking the quiet murmurs of the other patrons in the tavern.
“No, really, who?”
“I’m serious, Noah.”
“First of all, Ess, if you haven’t noticed, I’m a first sergeant, and a fairly boot one at that. I won’t be eligible for E9 for three or even four years at a minimum. Second, have you forgotten that we’re twins? We haven’t served together since 3/14, and you weren’t too happy about that, if memory serves me right.”
“I was an idiot then.”
That took Noah aback. He agreed with her assessment, but he never thought she’d have admitted it.
“Maybe then when we were both non-rate grunts, but this, I mean . . . this is something different. You and me at the head of a battalion? This isn’t a good idea, Ess. Remember father and Uncle Joshua?”
“I’ve thought about that,” she said. “I’ve thought about that a lot, to be honest. Giving those orders to his own brother-in-law, well, you know how that affected him all his life. But, hear me out. I’m not going to be ordering you to stay behind like that. We’re getting a little long in the tooth to be kicking down doors and taking names. That’s for the young Marines. You and I’ll be in the CP, fighting the battles from there, not out with the lance corporals.”
“Long in the tooth?” he wondered, looking at his twin.
She had kept in tremendous shape, and he knew she could give most lance corporals a run for their money at any physical challenge. For that matter, Noah himself could kick some butt on a company run.
“And it’s not as if we’re going to war,” she added. “We’re just gearing up for an Outer Reaches deployment. All showing the flag and exercises with our allies.”
“I don’t know, Ess. Think of the politics. I mean, if you . . .”
“You mean if I want to pick up colonel, what would this look like?”
“Well, yeah, as you put it so bluntly.”
“I’ve thought about that, too. Look, I’ve probably alienated every sergeant major in the division, hell, maybe the Corps, by firing Killington. He was a pretty popular guy. And if I don’t have someone who’s got my back, do you think I’m going to do well enough with the battalion to even be considered for O6?”
“I don’t think it’s as bad as all that, Ess. There’s a reason you shit-canned Killington, and the other E9’s will know that.”
“And still, they’ll hold a grudge for not letting them take care of it in-house.”
“Uh . . . now that you mention it, why didn’t you? I mean, that would have solved your problem and kept your hands clean?”
“I couldn’t. He challenged me in front of the troops. I had to take action right then and there.”
Shit, Killington, you were even dumber than I thought.
“Hell, Colonel Falstaff heard about it before I marched down to regiment, and he already had the S1 drawing up the orders.”
“So, it’s not as bad as all of that. He gave you no choice.”
“Look, Noah, whether I had to or not, I need someone who I know has my back. Someone who can relate to the Marines, who can nudge when I push. The only person I know for an absolute certainty who will have my back is you. I’d be honored if you’ll take the position.”
Noah sat back, then took a long swallow of juice, more to give himself a few moments than that he needed a drink. The idea was crazy. Him, a sergeant major? Serving with Esther? He had to admit the idea intrigued him. But he realized it was never going to happen. No matter what friends his twin had in high places, he was not a sergeant major and wasn’t going to simply be appointed as one.
“Ess, I really appreciate your confidence in me. It touches me, to be honest. But this isn’t how the Corps works, you know. I’m a first sergeant, and they’re not going to have an E8 as the senior enlisted in the battalion. Heck, you probably have E8’s senior to me.
“I have one, and he’s due orders in three months.”
“Still, it’s not going to happen.”
“It can. I spoke with the commandant about it last night. He’s on board with the idea.
General Rzeminski had been Esther’s battalion commander with 2/11, the same battalion when Noah, leading his two tanks, had broken the Amal assault. Noah wasn’t surprised that they’d kept close contact. That was the way the Marine Corps ran and had probably run since the Roman Adiutrix. But even the commandant couldn’t just snap his fingers and have it all fixed.
“On board with your brother, an E8, as one of his battalion sergeant majors?”
“Not an E8. Well, technically an E8. But you’ll be frocked to E9. It will be temporary, of course, and you’ll still get paid as an E8, but you’ll wear the rockers of a sergeant major and hold the title.”
“Frocked? We’re not the Navy, Ess.”
“But the authorization to frock is in our code as well. If a Marine is serving in a billet one rank above his or her permanent rank, that Marine can wear the rank and enjoy the privileges if authorized by the commandant.”
“But we don’t do that. The Navy does, but we don’t.”
“Yes, we do. Just not often.”
Noah’s mind was whirling. He knew this was a bad idea, very bad. Siblings just didn’t serve together, going back to the 20th Century when five brothers, the Sullivans, all died on one ship during the WWII Battle of the Guadalcanal. His own father, as a platoon commander, had requested his brother-in-law to serve as his platoon sergeant. Fighting the capies on G.K. Nutrition Six, he had to order their uncle to stay behind and delay the capies enough for the civilians to be evacuated, knowing full well that it was a suicide mission. Noah thought their father never got over that. And now, here was his sister, asking him to serve with her.
“Ess, you’ve taken me by surprise. I really, really think this is a bad idea—”
“Noah,” she said, raising a finger to his lips to stop him. “Don’t say anything yet. I know, especially with dad and Uncle Joshua, that this is a hard decision. But I wouldn’t ask you if I thought this would be bad for the battalion. I think you’re the right person for the billet. So, I’m here for four more days. Let’s meet back here at 1500 on Thursday, if you can make it, and let me know what you’ve decided.”
When Noah didn’t say anything, she asked, “Can you think about it?”
He nodded and said, “Sure, Ess. I can give you that. I’ll meet you back here on Thursday.”
“Thanks, Little Brother,” she said with a smile, but one that didn’t strike Noah as being much of a happy smile.
She stood up, leaned over the table, and gave him a hug. She didn’t say anything but left to go back to her fellow commanders, who greeted her with raised glasses.
Noah watched her for a moment as she jumped back into whatever conversation she’d been having before. Esther was a good Marine, a good commander. He trusted her in that she’d had to fire Killington. But there were more than enough sergeants major who could fill the billet, E9’s who wouldn’t come with the baggage that he’d bring with him.
And then there was their relationship. They were still pretty casual, just brother and sister despite their differing ranks. If they served together, how would that work? His job—a battalion sergeant major’s job—was to advise and commander in all manner of things, even when it was something the commander didn’t want to hear.
Noah knew this was a bad idea, but he also knew that his sister disagreed with that. He had four days to make up his mind, and at the moment, he had no idea what he was going to do.
Chapter 2
Esther
Esther checked the time; it was 1507. Noah was late, and she didn’t know what that might mean. She’d thought long and hard about asking Noah to be her sergeant major, and despite the fact that everyone—Noah included, seemingly—thought this was a bad idea, she was certain he’d make the best sergeant major for the battalion.
What she’d told No
ah about how her firing of Killington had gone over with the rest of the E9 mafia had been true. It wasn’t that there wasn’t another sergeant major who’d take the position. It was a battalion, after all, much better than a school or other non-combat unit. By firing Killington, however, Esther had seemingly made a statement that she wanted a yes-man. Nothing could be further from the truth, but perceptions were what mattered. Esther needed someone to act as a counterpoint to her. Her XO, Major Mark Frazier, was smart and organized, and he wasn’t afraid to offer suggestions, but she wasn’t sure he’d oppose her if she were making a mistake.
Noah would.
Jim, who she trusted more than anyone else, had recommended that she just make due with whoever was assigned to her. General Rzeminski had told her he thought it was a bad move when she’d broached the subject with him, but she’d been adamant, and in the end, he’d gone along with her request. Now, it was up to Noah.
In a way, she was being selfish, she knew. If the pairing were a catastrophe, he’d go down the tubes the same as she. He’d probably never see E9 permanently. Even with an acceptable tour, there would always be the cloud hanging over him that he only got his battalion because of the Lysander name.
Still, she hoped he’d accept.
She took another sip of her Coke. A cider would fit the bill better, but she’d been fighting the battle of the booze for years, and in the middle of the afternoon, she wouldn’t allow herself to already be going for the heavy stuff. She’d be on the shuttle by 1730, and another hour or so after that, she’d let herself have a drink or two at the ship’s bar, one of the many advantages of traveling on commercial liners rather than Navy ships.
Four minutes later, Noah came into the Globe and Laurel, looking around as his eyes shifted from daylight to the murky tavern. Esther raised a hand, and he headed her way, sliding into the seat across from her.
“Coke?” he asked, eyebrows raised.
Noah had quit drinking after Miriam had filed for divorce, and with the evangelical enthusiasm of the converted, had lectured Esther on her affection for drinking. There was the slightest bit of validity to his arguments, but she’d never let drinking affect her performance. She was in control of it. The mere fact that he was on her case about it, however, was proof that he’d stand up to her, if need be, in the battalion.
“It’s still in the afternoon, Noah.”
“What about the old saying that it’s seventeen hundred somewhere?”
“I’m not that bad, little brother. Besides, I’ve got a berth on a commercial liner out. I can wait until we leave the system.
“But forget about all of that. Have you thought it over?”
“Yeah, Ess. I have,” he said, pausing for a moment. “You know, this is a bad idea.”
“Some people have said that,” she said.
“And, at the company, I’ve got regular hours. No deployments.”
“Oh, come on, Noah. You mean to tell me that you like being in Headquarters Battalion? You like chasing down all the officers at HQMC to get them to update their next of kin rosters?”
“Not really, no. OK, it’s not like it’s a normal company, Ess, but every weekend, I see the kids. For the first time I’m there for them.”
Why change now? she thought, but knowing to leave that unsaid.
Noah had always promised that he’d be different than their father, that he wouldn’t be an absentee parent. But when the Corps sends you half-way across the galaxy, you went. Being a full-time parent and being a Marine just didn’t coincide, and he’d chosen the Corps. She could understand why he wanted to take this opportunity to be with his kids, at least on the weekends. But if he’d wanted to be a full-time parent, he shouldn’t have reenlisted. That ship had sailed back when he was a staff sergeant.
“So, you’re turning me down?” she asked, trying to keep the bitterness out of her voice.
“It’s not a matter of you, of turning you down, Ess.”
“Then what is it?”
“I love you, Ess, more than you know. But this kind of decision, well, it’s not made for love or family ties. I’ve got to think of what’s best for the Corps. And yes, what’s best for me.”
Esther let out a sigh, and said, “OK, I understand.”
“So that’s why I’m accepting the position.”
“It’s OK, I know it was a lot to ask.”
“I’m accepting, Ess.”
“Yes, I heard you. You’re . . . you’re accepting? You’re saying yes?”
“I’m saying yes. I already told Captain Gilfoyl, and they’re cutting me orders within ten days.”
“But . . . I mean the kids. What you just said.”
“That was the main thing that held me back, Ess, to be honest. I like being with them. But, you know, father wasn’t around much, and we turned out OK, right?”
“Uh, yeah, we did.”
“And so can they. Miriam’s a good mother, and Major Howard, he’s a good man,” he said, barely faltering over Miriam’s husband’s name.
Esther caught that and knew he was putting on a brave front.
“But one thing you said was right on. You need someone who’s got your back. I don’t mean a lapdog, but who’s really got your back, even when that means telling you something you don’t want to hear. You’re good, Esther, but sometimes, you’re your own worst enemy.”
“Uh . . . thanks? I mean, thank you. I need that. Hell, the battalion needs that. We’re good, but we need to get better. I’m counting on you to bring the—”
“You don’t need to convince me, Ess. It’s done. I’ll evaluate the SNCOs and all the rest when I get there, then decide how I’m going to tackle things. But not right now. I’ve got a shitload of things to get done before I leave, and that starts now. I really can’t stay and chat, so I’ve got to run. I’ll be right behind you, and you can forward me anything you think I need to know before I report aboard.”
“You can’t stay for a bit?”
“No, really, I can’t. This is all rather sudden, as you can imagine, and I’ve got a lot to do. First, I’m heading to see the kids right now, to give them the news,” he told her while standing up.
“Oh. Yeah, I can understand that. Well, OK. I’m glad you’re coming, and I’ll send you some notes about the battalion and where we’re at now. And, then, well, I guess, I’ll see you on Last Stop.”
She stood up, and not quite knowing what to do, reached out to hug her twin. She held him tighter and longer than normal, but the next time she saw him, she’d be his boss. They’d still be Ess and Noah, but the institution of command would be between them as well. For one more moment, Esther wanted simply to hug her brother, to feel his broad shoulders knowing that he always was there to protect her.
Finally, she let him go.
“OK, then, I’ll see you soon,” he said, wheeling and walking out of the tavern.
Esther watched him go, then sat back down, taking half a sip of Coke before pushing the glass away. Noah had just agreed to be her sergeant major, and that deserved a celebratory drink, mid-afternoon or not. She signaled the waiter, started to order a cider, then thought something a little stronger was in order and changed that to a Crissie on the Rocks.
Pulling out her PA, she connected to Tarawa’s commercial comms hub. This was going to cost a pretty credit, but she didn’t care. Within moments, her call was put through to Sahara, all the way out in the Fourth Quadrant.
“Did he accept?” Jim asked, knowing why she was calling.
“Yes, he did.”
“Well, OK, then. Now it’s up to you to make it work.”
“I know, and it will. He’ll be good for the battalion.”
“And good for you?”
“I think so. I need someone to keep me on an even keel, and with you half-way across the galaxy, it has to be him.”
“Just, well, remember, he’s your brother, but he’s a Marine, and he’ll be taking his duties seriously.”
The waiter returned with her
drink and placed it in front of her.
“I know he will. Which is why I wanted him. OK, this is going to cost a fortune, but I wanted to let you know.”
“Thanks, honey. You two will do well. I’ve got confidence in you.”
“Love you,” Esther said.
“Love you back,” Jim answered before cutting the connection.
Esther took a long sip of her Crissie, savoring both the smoky nuances and the strong kick. She felt a little guilty for taking Noah away from his kids, but they were career Marines, and that was part of the price of admission. She and Jim were different. They weren’t going to have kids until they finally got out. It was bad enough never being stationed together, just snatching periods of time together when they could, but adding kids to the equation would make it untenable.
She took another long swallow, letting the strong drink warm her belly to match the warmth she was feeling in her heart. She had a loving husband who supported her, and now her twin brother would be at her right hand in getting the battalion into shape. It couldn’t get much better than that.
LAST STOP
Chapter 3
Noah
Noah looked at the plaque of the line of commanding officers of the First Battalion, Eighth Marines, “The Cutting Edge.” There, the last name on the list, was “Lieutenant Colonel Esther Lysander.”
Right next to that plaque was another with the line of battalion sergeants major. The last one in that list was Sergeant Major Norman H. Killington. The next spot would be his.
Noah still wasn’t sure if this was a good move. The Marine Corps had never had siblings at the head of a battalion, and while the opportunity probably hadn’t been too numerous, it just hadn’t been done.
“Sergeant Major, welcome aboard!” a corporal said, his white duty belt all Noah needed to know that the corporal had the battalion duty, and more than that, that he was expecting him. “The XO told me to fetch you as soon as you arrived.”
“Lead on, Corporal. What’s your name?”
“Corporal Spain, Sergeant Major. I’m with Bravo Company.”
The United Federation Marine Corps' Lysander Twins: The Complete Series: Books 1-5 Page 103