Valour's Choice Read Free Page B

thought.
    Unfortunately, he was a two star idiot.
    Not counting Lieutenant Jarret and herself, she needed to find thirty-nine Marines—nine four-person fireteams and three sergeants—who had not only been cleared by Med-op for planetfall but who wouldn’t inadvertently turn a diplomatic mission into a bloodbath. Even had Sh’quo Company’s three infantry platoons been at full strength, choosing nine from the twenty-seven fireteams wouldn’t have been easy. Choosing from among the seventeen teams Med-op had cleared was a nearly impossible task.
    It was a choice that didn’t involve the kind of parameters a computer could handle.
    First Sergeant Chigma would’ve called his three Staff Sergeants together. To pick our brains, Torin thought darkly. It wasn’t a phrase she could say aloud, given the Krai’s unfortunate taste for Human tissue. Unfortunately, with her acting as First that left only two platoon NCOs and Med-op had Greg Reghubir tanked for the foreseeable future. Down to one. After a moment’s thought, she keyed Sergeant Sagarha’s implant code into the desk. He’d taken over what was left of Reghubir’s platoon. While it was likely he only knew the fireteams in his own squad, he was still the best source she had. Then she leaned around the edge of the dividing wall and into the next Staff cubicle.
    “When you’ve got a moment, Amanda, I need you at my desk.”
    * * *
    “You’re running heavy on Humans here; there’s got to be another di’Taykan or two available somewhere.” Amanda tapped a fingertip against her screen until it protested. “What about Haysole?”
    “I’m a little concerned about the class difference with our new lieutenant.”
    Sh’quo Company’s other surviving staff sergeant raised an auburn brow. “You’d rather they worried it out in combat?”
    “I’d rather they didn’t work it out in front of a dozen diplomats and a species we’re trying to impress.” Leaning back in her chair, Torin turned toward the other person at the desk. “What do you think, Sagarha?”
    Sergeant di’Garn Sagarha frowned thoughtfully. “Might be trouble if di’Ka wasn’t an officer. Since he is, that shouldn’t be a problem. I’ll tell you what I would be concerned about, though: Haysole’s a fuk-up. He’s fine in combat, but the moment no one’s shooting at him, he gets bored, and the next thing you know, he’s got three days’ latrine duty.”
    “Nothing wrong with clean toilets,” Amanda pointed out. “Is there anyone else ?”
    The three of them rechecked the lists.
    “Not in a complete fireteam, no.”
    “Then I guess Haysole’s going.” Torin moved the di’Taykan’s fireteam over to the platoon file. “If he gets too bored. I’ll shoot at him myself.”
    “You’re a little low on Krai.”
    “Only four of the six are available, and I’m taking one of them,” she pointed out.
    “Why not take Ressk?”
    “I’d love to. It’d be nice to have a few more brains along on this trip.” One of Sergeant Sagarha’s squad, Ressk had been known to make secure military programming sit up and beg. Intelligence wanted him, but fortunately for the company, he didn’t want Intelligence.
    “You take Ressk, you also get Binti Mashona. I’ve recommended her for sniper school twice, but we keep shipping out before Admin clears the file.”
    “Like I said, I’d love to, but isn’t their team leader still out?”
    Sagarha checked his slate. “My Med-op download has Corporal Hollice cleared for duty in thirty-six hours.”
    “I wonder why mine doesn’t,” Torin muttered, tracing a path through the icons. “Some idiot probably sent it to the First’s desk.”
    “Some idiot probably thought that’s where you’d be,” Amanda pointed out, adding, “I thought Hollice lost a thumb?”
    “He did, but Ressk dropped it in a cold box, and the corpsmen had it reattached before we got back to the station.”
    “Bet Ressk was pissed at losing his snack,” she