Strike Cruiser Dunkerque CX 288
Blackburn Jump Gate
Rho Theta System
CDR Toby DeMay Commanding

“Sergeant Roy Alexander reporting as ordered, lieutenant.”

Boris Simpkins turned around without looking up from his clipboard. He caught unusual movement out of the corner of his eye. A moment later he was face to face with a gray and black german shepherd.

“Sergeant–?”

“Corporal, sir. Sable is my K-9. She has all the same clearances I do.”

Simpkins wasn’t entirely prepared to find a dog had been assigned to Second Marines. Sable watched the lieutenant expectantly, tongue out and panting. She was apparently standing in her four-legged version of attention. The platoon leader had to admit he had never seen anyone but a human in a breakaway combat harness, to say nothing of a non-human wearing corporal’s rank insignia complete with a special forces emblem under her stripes.

“Am I allowed to ask about your mission?”

“Aye, sir. I was instructed by the flag to deliver a coded classified briefing for my direct report.” Alexander handed the lieutenant a data pack. “Force command tells me you’re him.”

A couple of off-duty Second Marines infantry wandered through, stared a moment at the dog and Alexander’s ominous gear and then hurriedly excused themselves after a glare from Simpkins.

“This is dangerous stuff, Sergeant. Are you sure you don’t want some backup? Even a handful of standby infantry would make me a lot less nervous.”

“All due respect, sir, I’m hitting dirt in six hours. I can do or I can teach. I’m afraid I don’t have time for both on this drop.”

“Understood. If this is what the captain wants, then we’ll do our damndest to carry it out. Ensign Ahearn is going to be your Nemesis pilot. Ensign MacBride is your electronic warfare specialist. They’re both good officers. You’ll be in good hands for the infil. What do you need from me?”

“A rack, sir. We need four hours of dark and quiet and two hours to gear.”

“Quartermaster will set you up. Next cabin down that hall. Chow is at thirteen hundred.”

“Thank you, sir.” Alexander saluted and Simpkins returned the salute. The sergeant guided Sable into the corridor. A couple of infantry riflemen watched as the recon marine made his way to the quartermaster’s station. One was cleaning his hands with a greaserag as he bumped his buddy’s arm.

“You know what’s sad about this, Brian?”

“What?”

“That dog outranks you.”


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