TW05 The Nautilus Sanction NEW Read Free

outfit, Finn would long since have become a casualty of military regulations, but Forrester valued a soldier’s performance in the field above all else. His frequent, grudging intercessions on Finn’s behalf kept him from being drummed out of the corps, although they did not prevent his being busted down to private time and time again. It was a never-ending cycle. Finn would return from a hitch in Minus Time and his exemplary performance would result in a promotion, but sooner or later, he would run across some officer who had not been advised to steer clear of him. The result was usually an injured officer and Finn’s being busted down to private once again. He was still a sergeant major only because the members of the Temporal Army officers’ corps, in the interests of self-preservation, were learning to give him a wide berth. In that respect, Finn Delaney epitomized the nature of the Time Commandos. The regular troops respected them tremendously, but rarely socialized with them. Forrester’s people had a reputation for being mavericks, more than a little crazed.
    “Do
I
know what this is all about?” said Finn, looking at Lucas with surprise. “Hell, I was going to ask
you.
You’re the exec, I figured you would know.” Lucas shook his head. “Not me. You seen Andre?”
    “Right here,” she said, from behind him. “What’s going on?” Biologically, Andre Cross was the youngest member of the First Division, with the rank of corporal.
    Chronologically, however, she was by far the oldest, having been born in the 12th century, where she once held the rank of mercenary knight. She was not pretty. Her features were plain and somewhat on the sharp side, yet there was something about them that was very striking. Her hair was straw-blond and she paid an absolute minimum of attention to it, less than most men. She wore it a bit longer than most soldiers did, partly because she had worn it short for many years to aid in her passing as a male in the time from which she came. She filled out her uniform quite well, but with muscle rather than soft, feminine curves. Her shoulders were quite broad and her biceps, when flexed, had a surprising peak to them. Her legs were long and shapely, but with mass and definition that a triathlete would have envied. Her breasts, though small, appeared somewhat larger than they were due to her pectoral development. Her waist and hips were narrow, without an ounce of surplus fat. She had the poise of complete self-assurance and the animal sexuality that came with being in peak physical condition, though her deltoids had still not quite recovered from the wound she received when a nysteel rappelling dart had been fired into her shoulder, severing muscle and shattering bone. Their last mission had been a bad one. Lucas had been seriously injured. Finn had also been hurt, nearly killed, when a thrown dagger struck him in the chest, coming perilously close to his heart and pulmonary artery. Only the density of his muscle mass had saved him. All three of them were walking wounded, but the army doctors had pronounced them fit enough to return to active duty. Civilian doctors would have been a great deal more conservative in their decisions.
    “I heard something about a new battery of psych tests,” Andre said.
    “Who the hell knows?” Finn grumbled. “I guess we’ll find out soon. Here comes the old man. Better get the rabble in some sort of order, Major.”
    Lucas turned to face the room. “Ten-hut!”
    Several hundred boot heels cracked in unison as the soldiers of the First Division snapped to. Lucas about-faced and climbed up the steps to the rostrum, saluting the old man smartly.
    “First Division all present or accounted for, sir!”
    The craggy Colonel Forrester returned his salute. “Thank you, Major. You may step down. At ease, people. Please be seated.”
    He waited a moment for them to take their seats.
    “I am in receipt of a Priority One, Code Red directive from the Referee