Academy, but he took solace in the fact that he would not have to endure this tedious work much longer. Docking with Earth Station would occur in only a few hours, and Brogan was eager to see an end to his mundane drudgery.
As he labored on the railing, his mind wandered once more to Adriel. They had known each other at school, but Adriel was a year older and seemed not to notice him. He had always thought her to be rather attractive, however, and often wished he had been older. He pictured her in his mind —her small, perky nose, her wide-set brown eyes flecked with gold and slanting slightly upward to either side, her high cheek bones, the wide, slender mouth that curled up at the edges, her firm chin, the auburn locks that fell to her shoulders—and a body to match.
But her attitude on the transport had been a rude awakening. It still irked him to remember how unappreciative she had been. It was just my luck to have rescued a proper lady. A girl from one of the pleasure worlds would have been appropriately grateful. Brogan smirked at his thoughts.
Still, she showed a lot of spunk trying to get free of that marauder. He couldn’t help admiring her for that.
The marauder whose life he spared turned out to be the leader’s right-hand man. Under the influence of interrogation drugs, he fingered one of the petty officers on the Shark as their mole. It had been the mole’s job to make sure the Shark was far enough away from the transports to make the raid successful. Brogan had been correct in his suspicion. But when the mole saw that the Shark was going to arrive in time to make a battle of it, he sent an encrypted message to the marauders, informing them of the plan of attack and the radio frequency being used by the assault troops. It was a miracle any of them had gotten back alive.
The interrogators had also learned the object of the attack. What they thought were marauders were really rebels against the Empire, not privateers. Their goal had been to disrupt and inconvenience the Empire by depriving Earth of a massive grain shipment while at the same time diverting it to rebel troops and sympathizers. They had almost succeeded.
A couple days after the skirmish, when Brogan had recovered enough to receive visitors in the sick bay, his musings were interrupted by the entrance of the captain and his exec. Brogan was startled and a bit disconcerted. He had not seen the captain as yet, and his arrival unnerved him. He struggled to sit up, but the captain said, “At ease, Private Brogan. Just relax, son. You’ve earned it.” Brogan eased himself back with apprehension.
“I have some things I need to tell you,” Captain Kebler informed him.
“Uh . . . yes, sir, Captain.”
“I just wanted to take the time to thank you properly for the fine job you did in the boarding. That was uncommon good thinking and unusual bravery for a young recruit. Therefore, I’m recommending you for the Navy Commendation Medal. That and the Purple Heart should put you a step ahead at the Academy.”
Brogan was astonished. “Thank you, sir. I—I don’t know what to say.”
“You don’t have to say anything, son. You earned it. Oh, another thing. Ensign Unger has told me of your desire to be a Navy pilot. Well, it probably won’t do much good, but I’m also forwarding my recommendation that you be assigned to the Naval Academy instead of the military. And I’ve given you a promotion —from recruit private to regular private. Regular privates get paid. Ensign Unger will give you the details and show you how to send some back home if you want.
“Once again, you have my sincere thanks for a job well done. Good luck at the Academy. Perhaps our paths will cross again someday.” Captain Kebler and the exec shook his hand and made their departure.
The commendations he had received were something to be proud of. Brogan continued to find it all too much to believe. Still, he missed Murphy and regretted his loss deeply.
Brogan’s
As he labored on the railing, his mind wandered once more to Adriel. They had known each other at school, but Adriel was a year older and seemed not to notice him. He had always thought her to be rather attractive, however, and often wished he had been older. He pictured her in his mind —her small, perky nose, her wide-set brown eyes flecked with gold and slanting slightly upward to either side, her high cheek bones, the wide, slender mouth that curled up at the edges, her firm chin, the auburn locks that fell to her shoulders—and a body to match.
But her attitude on the transport had been a rude awakening. It still irked him to remember how unappreciative she had been. It was just my luck to have rescued a proper lady. A girl from one of the pleasure worlds would have been appropriately grateful. Brogan smirked at his thoughts.
Still, she showed a lot of spunk trying to get free of that marauder. He couldn’t help admiring her for that.
The marauder whose life he spared turned out to be the leader’s right-hand man. Under the influence of interrogation drugs, he fingered one of the petty officers on the Shark as their mole. It had been the mole’s job to make sure the Shark was far enough away from the transports to make the raid successful. Brogan had been correct in his suspicion. But when the mole saw that the Shark was going to arrive in time to make a battle of it, he sent an encrypted message to the marauders, informing them of the plan of attack and the radio frequency being used by the assault troops. It was a miracle any of them had gotten back alive.
The interrogators had also learned the object of the attack. What they thought were marauders were really rebels against the Empire, not privateers. Their goal had been to disrupt and inconvenience the Empire by depriving Earth of a massive grain shipment while at the same time diverting it to rebel troops and sympathizers. They had almost succeeded.
A couple days after the skirmish, when Brogan had recovered enough to receive visitors in the sick bay, his musings were interrupted by the entrance of the captain and his exec. Brogan was startled and a bit disconcerted. He had not seen the captain as yet, and his arrival unnerved him. He struggled to sit up, but the captain said, “At ease, Private Brogan. Just relax, son. You’ve earned it.” Brogan eased himself back with apprehension.
“I have some things I need to tell you,” Captain Kebler informed him.
“Uh . . . yes, sir, Captain.”
“I just wanted to take the time to thank you properly for the fine job you did in the boarding. That was uncommon good thinking and unusual bravery for a young recruit. Therefore, I’m recommending you for the Navy Commendation Medal. That and the Purple Heart should put you a step ahead at the Academy.”
Brogan was astonished. “Thank you, sir. I—I don’t know what to say.”
“You don’t have to say anything, son. You earned it. Oh, another thing. Ensign Unger has told me of your desire to be a Navy pilot. Well, it probably won’t do much good, but I’m also forwarding my recommendation that you be assigned to the Naval Academy instead of the military. And I’ve given you a promotion —from recruit private to regular private. Regular privates get paid. Ensign Unger will give you the details and show you how to send some back home if you want.
“Once again, you have my sincere thanks for a job well done. Good luck at the Academy. Perhaps our paths will cross again someday.” Captain Kebler and the exec shook his hand and made their departure.
The commendations he had received were something to be proud of. Brogan continued to find it all too much to believe. Still, he missed Murphy and regretted his loss deeply.
Brogan’s
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