Valor's Trial Read Free Page B

intimidating.
    Torin smiled. Human teeth weren’t as strong—it was all in the display.
    â€œNo, sir. The download is correct and in order, but the count was wrong. Download says we received eight hundred twenty-eight, ninety standard-round mags for one hundred thirty-eight KC-7, five hundred fifty-two high impact mags, and thirty-six full packages for the heavies when, in point of fact, we received eight hundred twenty-six, ninety standard-round mags.”
    The supply officer flashed her laser at one of the automated retrieval drones up near the roof of the armory, adjusting its approach to an upper storage unit, then turned to scowl in Torin’s general direction. “You’re making all this fuss for two magazines, Gunnery Sergeant?”
    â€œYes, sir.”
    â€œFine. We’ll make them up in the next ship. Two magazines aren’t going to make a damned bit of difference.”
    â€œSorry, sir, but we could deploy at any moment; I need it corrected now.”
    That focused the lieutenant’s attention. “You need it corrected now?”
    â€œYes, sir.”
    â€œBecause I have nothing better to do?”
    Torin caught the lieutenant’s lilac gaze and held it. She’d been a lieutenant through Torin’s last three promotions and at this point would likely never see her captain’s bars. Torin didn’t care about that; there were plenty of reasons people were passed over for promotion. Some of them were even good reasons. What she did care about was that someone who’d be a long Susumi jump back of the shooting had no fukking idea just how much difference two magazines could make when it came down to it.
    The lieutenant looked away when Torin allowed it. She flashed the laser at one of the smaller drones, and waited, scowling, until it buzzed up and hovered by her elbow. Picking the magazines out of the bin, she tossed them toward Torin who snatched them out of the air, checked their loads, and scanned the serial numbers into her slate to replace the two they didn’t receive.
    â€œHappy, Gunnery Sergeant?”
    â€œYes, sir.”
    â€œI don’t want to see you around here again.”
    â€œAnd you won’t, sir.” She paused just long enough for it to be noticeable. “Not as long as the downloads and the counts match.”
    â€œNice grouping, Mashona.”
    Lance Corporal Binti Mashona lowered her weapon and grinned. “Thank you, Gunnery Sergeant.”
    The ten rounds hadn’t hit the target in a grouping so much as in a single large hole.
    â€œLance Corporal Mashona was using a standard KC-7, right off the rack.” Torin informed Second Lieutenant Heerik’s number three squad. “Now she’s proven what can be done when properly motivated, why don’t you lot come up here again and, this time, try to hit the damned targets. If you’re still having trouble, pretend you all qualified on this weapon back in Basic!”
    â€œUh, Gunnery Sergeant . . .” The private’s ocher hair made tentative movements out at the ends of the strands. “. . . we did all qualify back in Basic.”
    â€œI know that, Private Leraj.”
    â€œI think you’re making them nervous, Gunny,” Mashona murmured as the squad rushed back into position.
    Torin snorted. “I can’t see why.”
    â€œI’m surprised, I am, truly surprised, that a big hero like you— got the Silsviss to join up all on your lonesome, discovered a new alien life-form, saved a whole platoon of children from a bit of bad programming—I’m surprised you’re still willing to drink with us working stiffs.”
    â€œHe’s drunk, Torin.”
    Torin looked at Amanda’s hand on her arm then up at the di’Taykan technical sergeant looming over their table, his lime-green hair spread out in a brilliant aurora around his head. “You think?”
    Di’Taykan hair wasn’t exactly hair as