Marco Domici
Contents
Fiction
Marco Domici: A Glowing Report
Marco Domici: Head of the Class
Marco Domici: Double Barium on the Rocks
Double Barium on the Rocks
"Hey Doc, your boyfriend is back." Vradok said. One seldom referred to Melissa Altomanni as 'Chief Surgeon' on the Intrepid. She was, in fact, Chief surgeon. She was also a highly published researcher with an academic pedigree that would get her scrubs an honorary Masters. Everyone knew that Lt Commander Altomanni, Chief Surgeon, preferred to be 'Doc'.
In the short time Vradok had been aboard the Intrepid he had seen a lot of the other men eyeing Dr Altomanni. While she was certainly an eyeful her manner was a friendly "go elsewhere for your conquest" sort of snub. Vradok had even seen the captain of a patrol cruiser do down in flames. So he didn't have much hope for the Rent-A-Hero in his commercial battle dress. He was probably one of the free-lancer's aboard. For some reason the Star Confederation had contracted a unit of commercial Marines for the upcoming show of force. The expectation was that everyone shows up in their dress uniform and the locals get mightily impressed. Not much action, but Vradok was assistant medical officer in one of the Confederation's most advanced shiboard Emergency Treatment facilities. And he got to watch Dr Altomanni break hearts.
"He looks like wine." Corpsman Jensen said under his breath. "Five creds says that box has a bottle of wine in it."
"Again?" Dr Altomanni had looked up and the Marine waved at her through the clearsteel observation wall. "Vradok, can you see what he wants this time? I guess he didn't get the hint."
Vradok walked over to the door and waved the Marine in. "Dr Altomanni is busy, soldier. Can I help you with something?"
"It...it's personal." The Marine looked at Vradok hopefully. "I scheduled an appointment like she asked. Would you check with her? Please?"
Vradok caught Doc's eye and she seemed to sigh. "Jensen, take care of the inventory, will you?" She said.
"But Doc, I..."
"Now, Jensen. Dr. Joranger and I need to tend to this soldier's illness. Medical privacy, and all that."
As Jensen headed back in to the stock room Vradok noticed that indeed, the Marine had brought a bottle of wine. He presented it to Melissa.
"Sorry, ma'am. I'll try not to take up much of your time. I..." He laughed self-consciously. "Sorry, I'm not normally this tongue tied."
"Corporal, isn't it?"
"Yes ma'am. Corporal Marco Domici. Not a soldier, sorry ma'am, a Marine. Lanze Spezzatt Bravo, Prince Allesandro's Light Jump."
"One would think someone who jumps out of perfectly good star ships could talk to a lady, don't you, Corporal?"
The Marine straightened up. "Yes ma'am. Sorry. It's just that the matter is a bit personal. And delicate." He glanced at Vradok. "Could we speak alone?"
"Dr. Joranger and I have to work together for the benefit of the crew, Corporal." She looked at her crono.
"Sorry ma'am." He looked at her and smiled. "Trianhydrous barium phozene, ma'am."
Melissa just stared at the Marine for a long moment. "Most men have other things on their mind when they bring me wine, corporal. Care to explain yourself?"
"Yes ma'am." He quickly brought out an old data pad and tapped into a report. "Your report on trianhydrous barium phozene, ma'am. From NavMedSci eight years ago. I read it a few years ago, your research came in handy."
"That compound was used for Nanogenerian pre-cancer treatments, Mr Domici. You seem a bit young to need it." She looked at him critically. "What, were you a PhD in grade school?"
"High school, ma'am, and only an Associate's. Sorry." Domici nodded. "Injured on a mission trip and the local witch doctors used a really smelly goo to leech poisonous nemocysts from my shoulder and arm. I did some research on what they used, it replicated several of the results of your studies on TBP."
"Corporal, I'm not sure what surprises me more. That you aren't staring at my chest or that you can pronounce trianhydrous without batting an eye." She shrugged. "Sorry to say, the research was dropped. A better compound came out that did the same work much faster. TBP didn't have a chance in the commercial market."
"Maybe." Domici grinned. "Maybe you were just looking to solve the wrong problem, doctor. My girl...a friend of mine is a heavy worlder. Her dad takes expensive treatments and is still aging rapidly." He pushed the pad over and tapped a screen. "You never tested for stray calcium resorption, did you? The compound the witch doctors used isolated and altered the calcium in the nemocysts. That's pretty much what saved my life. TBP does about the same thing, but slower." He expanded the image showing the aging effects of high gravity on a skeletal structure. "What if someone took TBP on a long term maintenance dosage? It wouldn't resorb enough calcium to induce Perrier's disease because it's mild. Yet it could offset the arthritic build ups as they are forming."
"There's no..." Melissa leaned forward and looked at the screen. "Crap. Vradok, go grab some Ringen flasks. Corporal Domici needs some place to pour that wine."
Marco Domici: With the chaplain
A couple weeks ago
"Come in Corporal. It's a bit crowded but I'm sure you can squeeze in somewhere."
"You asked to see me, Chaplin?" Marco looked at the half dozen chairs arranged near a desk. The only thing they seemed to be occupied by was dust.
"Chaplain Domici, Corporal." The man grinned as he stood up and shook Marco's hand. "Technically a Major in the unit but I tend not to exercise command functions. Have a seat."
As they sat, the Chaplin closed his screen and turned to face Marco. "Do you get it yet?"
"What, sir?" Marco frowned. "I...ah...have you had any reports on me? Sir?"
"Not yet, but I'm sure, with an answer like that, I will eventually." The chaplain stretched his long frame and ended up with boots halfway across his desk. "I've gone over your record, corporal. Some of your pre-enlistment activities have been reported to me as well."
"Officially, I will commend you on full engagement with your duties and tasks. Your command chain has recognized your dedication to learning the skills a trooper needs and your willingness to achieve the objectives." He leaned forward. "Personally, I'm not surprised, given your history. You did the same thing with the Antiguan villages mission trip, I believe? Applied yourself, worked hard, and achieved your goals even before graduating high school."
"Yes sir. I..." Marco did a double-take. "Is that part of my record, sir?"
"When you work for God, corporal, many things are known." He laughed for a moment and then just smiled. "My conversations with the Almighty tend to be about my own challenges and duties, son. Notes on you were provided by another source."
"My dad, right? What did he say? Was he in the unit?" Marco's eyes glazed a bit as he went back in time. "The day I enlisted was the last day I saw him. I wasn't going to make the cut but he said something to the recruiter. What can you tell me about him?"
"Corporal." The chaplain's eyes and tone fell. "First, the history of anyone who may have been a member of this unit is never a topic for discussion by anyone except that person. We take our brotherhood seriously."
"Second, and this is why you're really here, is that I am to inform you that your father has passed away. Details are sketchy, the local authorities are being a bit close-mouthed. I cannot tell you, officially, that initial reports show violence was involved. I also cannot say, officially, that several of those who chose your dad as a target didn't live long enough to regret their mistake."
"Third." The chaplains voice rang with cutlass steel. "You have a special assignment coming down the chain, effective immediately. The quartermaster has a draw list for you. Pack your kit and be on the 2315 lifter to high port."
"Last..." His voice softened. "There will be a silent memorial service at 2145 in the chapel. Dress greens, no talking, and you are not to recognize anyone you see. It is a time of respect and reflection, Marco. The soldier that sits in my office now seems to have forgotten the zeal for right a teenager had just a few short years ago. If you see men and women at the service tonight, it is not because someone could brag the loudest or drink the most beer. One day you may hear stories like that but really, what draws us to honor another is the positive impact someone has had on us individually."
Marco stepped off the transport and headed for his launch. He'd have enough time on ship to clean and sort through all the gear provided, right now he just let the darkened shades hide his tears. They were sending him away to keep him out of the investigation, he was sure of that. He really didn't understand why all the unit brass had been at the service nor did he really get who his dad was.
His pace slowed. At the moment he wasn't sure who he was, yet something hit him like an ortillary kill shot. Marco slumped onto his ruck in the middle of the dock.
Domici.
Al's Jump Lights let a man enlist under any name they wanted. At the end of their first honorable service term the paperwork was made legal. Prince Allesandro had been a Domici. Officers, retirees, and certain others were allowed to change their name and join "the Family" and take the Domici name.
His father had been a Domici.
He was a Domici.
"Something causing you to block traffic, soldier?" One of the port guards approached Marco.
"Sorry officer, just got a little winded." Marco one-armed the large ruck onto his back and smiled. "Enjoy your day, officer."
Marco Domici: A Personal Message
A personal message
As the transport moved out, Marco listened to his mother's voice again. Vids were costlier than sound; ever the frugal mother she had only sent vox. Still, he could hear the tears in her voice.
"Son,
I'm sure you've been told your father was killed. The police don't want me to say anything, but you deserve to know what little I know. His military unit, your unit, has offered to pay for the burial in space and I have accepted. The money you sent was nice...I...I'm not as strong as you or your father. When you return I may be with my family. In spirit I'm still a Domici, but my spirit isn't strong right now.
Your father was so proud when we heard you were going to be an officer! He went so far as to buy a round at Moe's to celebrate. He took the news of your reassignment in stride, but at first I think it hurt him a little. Somehow Moe found out about your medal; your dad hasn't had to pay for a drink in weeks! Sometimes I think there are...were...things he wanted to tell you but didn't feel like he should. 'It's not yet time.' he would mutter as he looked at your picture.
I...I've sent the chaplain your dad's ID card. He has agreed to transfer Head of Household paperwork to you. Not much of a house, I'm afraid. But it gives you the rights and responsibilities of a full Domici. Along with the card is a small blue piece of cloth your dad said he carried in his uniform. He was proud of our branch of the family; he used to talk about getting rich and painting the entire apartment blue. Praise the heavens we never won the lottery! Blue is nice but your dad had no sense of balance.
That's what I loved about him; he was young and full of zeal. I love that about you, too. I know Susie hurt you deeply but she's made her choices. You now have to make yours.
There are other forms I'll send over, as well as a few more details you should know. Some of them are very personal but I'm sure the chaplain will keep them safe.
God speed, son. I love you.
Mom."
Marco Domici: Radio Malfunction
Character
Stats and Basics
Lance Sergeant Marco Domici 22 Year old Domici Male
UPP: 78A885
Medal for Conspicous Gallantry
Combat Ribbons (2)
Commendation - Lifesaving
Notes: Muster out roll was a 2, +2 Int. Already in UPP.
Survive, promotion, no comission. No forced reenlistment.
Temporary Skill/Stat: Gun Combat (Laser Carbine) and Dex. Skill marked (T), Stat increased in UPP.
Need to spend Cr 100,000 in gear. Still in progress
Skills
Admin 0
Blade Combat 1
Brawling 1
Computer 0
Electronic 0
Gambling 0
Gun Cbt (Energy Weapons) 1/2 (T)
Leader 0
Medical 0
Mechanical 0
Tactics 0
Vacc Suit 1
Vehicle 0
Equipment
Combat armor (Cr 20,000)
Laser Carbine, two energy packs, electronic sights (Cr 6,000, Wt 12,500)
Cutlass (Cr 100, Wt 1250 )
Dagger (Cr 10, Wt (250))
Background
Term 1, in short:
Year 1: Basic and AIT
Year 2: Space Ops school - Vacc Suit 1, Promotion - E2
Year 3: Garrison, Promotion - E3
Year 4: Had a slot for OCS but bounced for a counter Raid on enemy forces. MCG awarded as well as a natural "12" on the promotion roll. E4
In Term 1 Year 4 he fought alongside the current ship's engineer. Need to come up with a story for that.
