Free T'aafhal Legacy 1: Ghosts of Orion by Doug L Hoffman

XO really is. Still, best to make sure everyone understands the ground rules before the ship gets underway.  
     
    Cargo Hold, Peggy Sue
    Jacobs and Hitch were in the armory, adjoining the aft end of the main cargo hold, checking out their suits of heavy space armor. The suits were identical to the ones they had worn on the trek across the Ring Station, meaning they were more advanced than the ones used by the Fleet Marines.
    “I tell you these are the same suits, Matt,” said Hitch.
    “I can't argue with that, Stevie, this suit fits me like a glove.”
    “Yeah, even with all the weight you gained on those freighter runs.”
    “Very funny.”
    “If you primates are done clowning around, how about breaking out my suit,” a new, deep voice rumbled. The two humans turned to find themselves facing a full grown male polar bear.
    “Lt. Bear?” asked Hitch.
    “No way, Stevie,” his friend replied, “Bear shipped out with Captain Jack a couple of years back.”
    “Well he sure looks like the LT.”
    “Did you ever think of just asking me who I am?” the bear asked.
    “You have to be Umky,” Jacobs replied, ignoring the bear's suggestion. “The Chief said you had signed on for the voyage.”
    “You sure are the spitting image of your daddy,” Hitch commented.
    “And now you know why I am trying to get off this rock,” replied Umky. “He's been gone over two years and I am still living in his shadow.” 
    “Major bummer, Nanook,” said Hitch.
    “Umky. My name is Umky.”
    “I thought that Nanook just meant 'bear'?”
    “It does, Umky means bear too.”
    “Wow, great nickname: Bear 2.”
    “Just forget it,” said the annoyed Umky. “How about helping me find my suit? There is supposed to be armor for a full sized male bear stowed here somewhere.”
    “Yeah sure, just give us a second to get out of our armor and we'll help you look,” said Jacobs. “Good to have you aboard, Bear 2.”
    * * * * *
    The Chief was standing where he had been for most of the past several days, just inside the forward cargo door on the port side. His inventory was almost complete and only a few of the crew had not yet reported, science section types mostly. The sound of footsteps on the cargo ramp caused him to look up. There coming up the ramp was half a squad of Marines.
    “We're looking for an AWOL Marine, Pops,” said the sergeant leading the detachment of four. The Chief bristled.
    “Stop right there, you ignorant jar head!”
    “Hey, don't get your knickers in a twist, Pops. We need to search your ship for the AWOL Marine, so stand aside.”
    The Chief spoke into his comm pip in a lowered voice: “Hitch, Jacobs, get yer asses forward, we got a Marine infestation.”
    Then, placing his hands on his hips, the Chief look the Marine sergeant in the eyes and said, “you listen to me you snot nosed, scupper turd, yous ain't setting a foot on the Peggy Sue...”
    * * * * *
    “What the hell is that all about?” asked Hitch, having received the Chief's somewhat cryptic message. 
    “I think the Chief is in trouble,” said Jacobs, “look at the monitor from the port side cargo door.”
    “Looks like a squad of Gyrenes trying to come aboard.”
    “Maybe we should go forward and see what they want,” said Umky, standing up in his suit of heavy space armor.
    “Good idea, Bear 2,” Hitch said, climbing back into his suit of armor. “Come on Matt, shake a leg, we got some jar heads to mess with.”
     * * * * * 
    The sergeant in charge of the shore patrol detachment had had about enough of the unpleasant little sailor who barred their way. He had his orders and no damned civilian swabby was going to stop him from searching this ship, yet there the diminutive sailor stood at the top of the ramp. 
    “Listen to me, you little runt. We are going to board your ship and search for the missing Marine, you get me you sawed off asshole?”
    The Chief crossed his arms, squinting hard at the Marines. Behind him, footsteps