Steel Walls and Dirt Drops Read Free Page A

APES don’t salute. Instead, she started to turn to the troopers behind her. Misha stopped her.
    “Spacer Second Class Morin, it is ‘sir’,” she said.
    The girl looked confused. “Pardon me, ma’am?”
    “In the Allied Protective Expeditionary Service all commanders of third-level and above are called sir not ma’am. Second-level commanders are called mister. Gender does not matter. It is hard to tell the sex of someone encased in a combat suit. It might do you well to remember that. Who knows, Spacer Morin, you may want to become an APE someday!”
    “Me, ma’am? I mean, sir,” the spacer stammered. “I’m way too small to be a fighter type.”
    Misha replied, “Well, when I was a first-year rookie, the second-level commander of my squad was just about your size. Deuce Saheed kicked my butt every day of the week. Size, just like gender, does not always matter. Now you may find me my trooper.”
    Misha had deliberately delayed beyond all reason and was beginning to get a tad bit peeved. If she delayed at the gate it was her business, but she should not be delayed by others. Not even a newbie rookie trooper should have been left standing this long. The girl turned and motioned frantically to a trooper lounging in a chair off to one side. The man came over, not on the double as Misha would have expected, but quick enough she held her tongue.
    Misha glanced behind her. A line of APES and spacers was starting to back up, waiting their turn to gain entrance. Misha was glad she had sent all of her gear on ahead by cargo pod. At least, she wasn’t carrying her bags. Still, she completely blocked the entrance to the main gate.
    “Sir?” the trooper asked.
    “Sir what, Trooper?” Misha asked. “Has the hearing standard been relaxed for the Thirteen Ninety-Second?” She looked the man in the eyes. In them, she saw boredom, not apprehension, not worry, not confusion, just boredom. “Are you or are you not assigned to the 1392nd currently deployed aboard the Kiirkegaard?”
    “Yes, sir, it is now McPherson’s Second,” he said, still not motioning for her to move through the gate.
    Misha bit back the growing anger. To be delayed was one thing; this was close to being a deliberate insult. The calm showing on her face belied her raging emotions. She looked the man up and down. He was a good looking, dark-haired man with the frame of an ex-athlete who did not work out as hard as he could, but still looked fit. He was older than her, but far from going gray.
    S he said, “Beyond any reasonable doubt, I am sure you heard me tell Spacer Second Class Morin I am that very McPherson.”
    The trooper started to reply, "But Trey, you aren't here officially until tomorrow and-”
    Misha cut him short. “Trooper, you will call the Kiirkegaard, get the second in charge to send out your replacement, then you will escort me to the Kiirkegaard. Do you understand?” Without waiting for a reply, she continued. “You will do it now.” Misha could barely keep a calm face as the man reached up and turned on his comm unit to make the call. The insult was becoming incompetence. Never had she heard of anyone shutting down their comm unit when on duty. That was the equivalent of sleeping on the job. Fuming, she listened as the man called into the APES detachment aboard ship. She held her temper in check, knowing that pounding someone in your command on the very first day would be very bad form.
    “The call’s in and Second Moraft is on her way ,” the trooper said. “It’ll be just a tic, sir. I’ll grab my gear and be back before they get here.”
    “Freeze, Trooper ,” Misha all but shouted through gritted teeth. “I will stand right here. You will stand with me.”
    “But my stuff-” the man whined.
    “Trooper , upon returning to your squad, you will report to your squad's medic for a hearing exam.” Misha interrupted and leaned in close to the man’s face. She was a foot taller than him, so she bent slightly,