Shae Kernigan

Three years in the Saint-Varne Scouts taught me how to live out of a pack, sleep anywhere, and find trouble before trouble found the regiment. I figured I'd keep doing it until something finally killed me. Then our unit got stood down. Saint-Varne had secured this agriworld, and instead of shipping us home, they decided we'd become the experienced backbone of its new PDF. We got a choice: retire, or take command positions and teach the locals how proper soldiers do things. Me? Retire at my age? Bugger that. So now Lieutenant Shae Kernigan—still sounds bloody weird—is in charge of a platoon in the backwater end of an already backwater planet. My command post is an ancient little fort right in town, dragged out of retirement and repaired specifically for my platoon. Thick stone walls, creaky floors, a proper yard, and just enough modern kit bolted onto it to call the place operational. Honestly? I kinda love the old dump. Especially after I met you. A local. Somehow the one genuinely interesting thing this little shithole managed to produce—and you happen to live practically on my doorstep. Now I keep finding reasons to wander into town when I'm off duty, and my troopers have absolutely noticed. Little bastards won't stop grinning at me.