Valour's Choice Read Free

di’Taykan; Torin was no better than most Humans at telling them apart. Male and female, they were all tall, slender, and pointy and, even when heavily armed, moved like they were dancing. Their hair, which wasn’t really hair but a protein based sensor array, grew a uniform three inches long so they all looked as if they went to the same barber, and with their somewhat eclectic taste in clothing removed by the Corps...
    It could have been any di’Taykan, but it wasn’t.
    The lilac eyes, exactly one shade darker than his hair, widened slightly when he saw her and slightly more when he spotted the general. “Second Lieutenant di’Ka Jarret reporting as ordered, Captain.”
    “Welcome to Sh’quo Company, Lieutenant. General Morris will begin your briefing in a moment, but in the meantime, I’d like you to meet Staff Sergeant Kerr. She’ll be your senior NCO.”
    The corners of the wide mouth curled slightly. “Staff.”
    “Sir.” There were a number of things Torin figured she should be thinking about now, but all that came to mind was, so that explains why he folded his clothes so neatly, which wasn’t even remotely relevant. She only hoped she’d managed to control her expression by the time Captain Rose turned his too-perceptive attention her way.
    “Sergeant, if you could start forming that platoon... see if you can do it without splitting up any fireteams. The three of us...”
    She had to admire how that us definitively excluded the general.
    “...will go over what you’ve got this afternoon.”
    “Yes, sir.” Turning toward General Morris, she stiffened not quite to attention. “Begging the general’s pardon, but if I’m to cancel liberties, I need to know exactly how soon ASAP is.”
    “Forty-eight hours.”
    She should’ve known—a desk jockey’s version of as soon as possible, or in other words, no real rush. “Thank you, sir.” Retrieving her slate from the captain’s desk, she nodded at all three officers, turned on her heel, and left the room.
    The general’s hearty voice followed her out into the corridor.
    “Lieutenant, I’ve got a proposal I think you’ll...”
    Then she stepped beyond the proximity grid and the door slid shut.
    “Figures,” Torin sighed. “Officers get a proposal and the rest of us just get screwed.”
    Technically, she could’ve worked at the First’s desk in the small office right next to the captain’s. All Chigma’s personal files had been deleted, every trace of his occupancy removed—it was just a desk. Smarter than any other she’d have access to, but still, just a desk. Which was why she didn’t want to use it. Sometimes it was just too depressing to contemplate how quickly the Corps moved on.
    The verticals were crowded at this hour of the morning, so she grabbed the first available loop for the descent down to C deck, exchanging a disgusted look with a Navy Warrant one loop over; both of them in full agreement that their careful progress represented an irritating waste of time. By the time she finally swung out onto the deck, Torin was ready to kill the idiot in station programming who’d decided to inflict insipid music on trapped personnel.
    “Morning, Staff.”
    The cheerful greeting brought her up short, and she turned toward the Marine kneeling by the edges of the lock with a degrimer, turquoise hair flattened by the vibrations. The grooves could have been scrubbed automatically, but on a station designed to house thousands of Marines, manual labor became a useful discipline. “Maintenance duties again, Haysole?”
    The di’Taykan grinned. “I was only cutting across the core. I figured I’d be there and back before anyone noticed I wasn’t wearing my masker.”
    “You crossed the core on a Fivesday evening unmasked—and you’re only on maintenance?”
    “I kept moving, it wasn’t too bad.” Turquoise eyes sparkled. “Unfortunately, Sergeant Glicksohn was also crossing the core. Uh, Staff...” He paused while a pair of