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Authors: Joe Bonadonna
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Marine.” He crossed himself. “God rest him.”
Makki bowed his head and then closed the lieutenant’s eyes.
444
Makki emerged from the sick bay of Comanche One, totally exhausted after helping with triage. His surgical scrubs were covered with blood. Captain Deanna Chan, a pretty Asian doctor with short black hair, accompanied him.
“Thanks for your help, Corpsman,” she said. “You have the makings of a fine doctor.”
“This one thanks you, Captain Doctor,” Makki replied.
“Well, Makki. In a few hours I’ll be shoving off.”
“You are leaving us?”
“Yes. I’ve be reassigned to the hospital ship, Angel of Mercy. ”
Makki’s eyes misted over. “This mewling will miss you, Doctor Chan, and wishes you all good blessings from the Maker.”
“Thank you, Makki,” said the physician. “I wish you good luck with your studies. I hope one day we’ll work together again when you’re a doctor.”
“This one would hope so,” Makki said. He felt sadness over Doctor Chan’s reassignment, as well as joy at her good fortune. But becoming a doctor was the last thing on his mind at the moment. He was looking forward to another weapons training session with Sergeant Cortez.
Chan smiled. “Farewell, Corpsman Doon!” She gave him a gentle tap on the jaw with one fist and then headed off down an adjoining passageway.
Makki opened a recyclable bottle of water, took a long drink and plopped down on the deck against a bulkhead. His long whiskers and pointy ears drooped with exhaustion. He yawned and rubbed his eyes with lightly-furred, hand-like paws.
“Konnichi wa!” Sergeant Akira greeted him. “Rough day, huh?”
Looking up at the beautiful sergeant, Makki gave her a weary smile. She was dressed in clean fatigues and chewing an unlit cigar.
“Yes,” he said. “Very much tired. Many wounded to be cared for.”
Akira squatted in front of him. “Scuttlebutt has it that we’re headed for Rhajnara.”
“This one’s home planet?”
“That’s the word. You must be happy about that.”
Makki shook his head. He always experienced some anxiety whenever he returned to Rhajnara. What had happened to his family, to his friends, and to him at the claws of the Khandra Regime was something he’d never forget, something he had never discussed with anyone.
“This one has no family. All gone. Friends, too.”
“Oh—I’m sorry. I had a hunch that’s what happened.” Akira smiled gently and squeezed Makki’s shoulder. “You know, I think Cortez lost his family in the war with the Drakonians. And I grew up in an orphanage. Never had a real family of my own.”
“Does O’Hara have family?” Makki asked.
“Funny you should mention that,” Akira said. “I know he has a mother, but that’s all I know about his personal life. He can be a very private man.”
“This one has never talked of such things with you,” Makki said.
“No, you haven’t. Why is that?”
He shrugged. “This mewling is one very private Rhajni,” he told her. “But what of you? Will you plan to marry and have a litter of kittens one day?”
Akira coughed and blushed. “Yes . . . well . . . I do want to get married and raise a family. But when I do, I think I’ll have just one kitten at a time.”
Chapter Six
Aboard the Iwo Jima
A lone in his cabin aboard the Iwo Jima , O’Hara touched a button on the bulkhead opposite his bunk. Two panels slid open without a sound, revealing three shelves. A large funerary urn sat on the top shelf, surrounded by plasticene lilacs and lilies. Holographic photos of twin toddler boys, a cute freckle-faced girl about six years old, and a beautiful red-haired woman in her late twenties filled the second shelf. A vigil candle, a bottle of Irish whiskey and an empty glass were the only objects occupying the third shelf.
Moving a lever at the base of the candle, a red electric light sparked to life. O’Hara reached for the bottle of whiskey and the glass, and poured himself
Makki bowed his head and then closed the lieutenant’s eyes.
444
Makki emerged from the sick bay of Comanche One, totally exhausted after helping with triage. His surgical scrubs were covered with blood. Captain Deanna Chan, a pretty Asian doctor with short black hair, accompanied him.
“Thanks for your help, Corpsman,” she said. “You have the makings of a fine doctor.”
“This one thanks you, Captain Doctor,” Makki replied.
“Well, Makki. In a few hours I’ll be shoving off.”
“You are leaving us?”
“Yes. I’ve be reassigned to the hospital ship, Angel of Mercy. ”
Makki’s eyes misted over. “This mewling will miss you, Doctor Chan, and wishes you all good blessings from the Maker.”
“Thank you, Makki,” said the physician. “I wish you good luck with your studies. I hope one day we’ll work together again when you’re a doctor.”
“This one would hope so,” Makki said. He felt sadness over Doctor Chan’s reassignment, as well as joy at her good fortune. But becoming a doctor was the last thing on his mind at the moment. He was looking forward to another weapons training session with Sergeant Cortez.
Chan smiled. “Farewell, Corpsman Doon!” She gave him a gentle tap on the jaw with one fist and then headed off down an adjoining passageway.
Makki opened a recyclable bottle of water, took a long drink and plopped down on the deck against a bulkhead. His long whiskers and pointy ears drooped with exhaustion. He yawned and rubbed his eyes with lightly-furred, hand-like paws.
“Konnichi wa!” Sergeant Akira greeted him. “Rough day, huh?”
Looking up at the beautiful sergeant, Makki gave her a weary smile. She was dressed in clean fatigues and chewing an unlit cigar.
“Yes,” he said. “Very much tired. Many wounded to be cared for.”
Akira squatted in front of him. “Scuttlebutt has it that we’re headed for Rhajnara.”
“This one’s home planet?”
“That’s the word. You must be happy about that.”
Makki shook his head. He always experienced some anxiety whenever he returned to Rhajnara. What had happened to his family, to his friends, and to him at the claws of the Khandra Regime was something he’d never forget, something he had never discussed with anyone.
“This one has no family. All gone. Friends, too.”
“Oh—I’m sorry. I had a hunch that’s what happened.” Akira smiled gently and squeezed Makki’s shoulder. “You know, I think Cortez lost his family in the war with the Drakonians. And I grew up in an orphanage. Never had a real family of my own.”
“Does O’Hara have family?” Makki asked.
“Funny you should mention that,” Akira said. “I know he has a mother, but that’s all I know about his personal life. He can be a very private man.”
“This one has never talked of such things with you,” Makki said.
“No, you haven’t. Why is that?”
He shrugged. “This mewling is one very private Rhajni,” he told her. “But what of you? Will you plan to marry and have a litter of kittens one day?”
Akira coughed and blushed. “Yes . . . well . . . I do want to get married and raise a family. But when I do, I think I’ll have just one kitten at a time.”
Chapter Six
Aboard the Iwo Jima
A lone in his cabin aboard the Iwo Jima , O’Hara touched a button on the bulkhead opposite his bunk. Two panels slid open without a sound, revealing three shelves. A large funerary urn sat on the top shelf, surrounded by plasticene lilacs and lilies. Holographic photos of twin toddler boys, a cute freckle-faced girl about six years old, and a beautiful red-haired woman in her late twenties filled the second shelf. A vigil candle, a bottle of Irish whiskey and an empty glass were the only objects occupying the third shelf.
Moving a lever at the base of the candle, a red electric light sparked to life. O’Hara reached for the bottle of whiskey and the glass, and poured himself
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