The Morcai Battalion by Diana Palmer Read Free Book Online

self-repairing biological entities,and they are extremely sensitive to alien bacteria. If they become ill, they do not work.”
    Stern blinked, only half understanding what he was being told. This technology was far in advance of anything the Tri-Fleet had.
    “Tell Hahnson I will expect him to keep his medics in line, and out of the way of my crew,” Dtimun told Stern.
    The comment almost flew by Stern. He frowned. “Hahnson?”
    “He is chief of your medical staff, is he not?” Dtimun replied.
    “No, sir,” Stern told him. “Dr. Ruszel is.”
    Dtimun stared at him blankly. “The female? A female commands your medics?”
    Stern cleared his throat. “Sir, I do understand that Centaurian social structure is far different from our own. We don’t differentiate between male and female in our military. We’re mentally neutered to the degree that ’relationships’ between enlisted personnel are impossible. Even if they weren’t, it’s the only death penalty left on our books.”
    “Your military is mad,” Dtimun said flatly. “Women have no place in combat.”
    “If you tell that to Madeline Ruszel, make sure you have a running head start,” Stern murmured, tongue-in-cheek. “She started out as a member of our Amazon Commandos. In fact, she captained a squad of them.”
    Dtimun shook his head in disbelief. “How many other females do you have in your complement?”
    “We had thirty-six, but our entire Amazon unit was wiped out during the Rojok encounter,” Stern said quietly. “Madeline’s taking it hard. She went through training with the unit’s commander.”
    “Which does not answer my question,” Dtimun shot back.
    “We have one female in our crew, sir—Dr. Ruszel.”
    “She is quite lovely,” Komak said.
    Dtimun’s eyes darkened and he glared at the younger alien. “You have your orders. Obey them!”
    “Yes, Commander.” Komak saluted and turned. His eyes gave a green laugh as they met Stern’s. “Is his great affection for me not obvious?” he teased. “He…”
    “Domcan h’ab leche!” Dtimun thundered in Centaurian.
    “Yes, Commander!” Komak disappeared down the escape ladder, but his eyes were still laughing when he left the bridge.
    Dtimun turned to Stern. “Come with me.”
    Stern followed the tall alien into what appeared to be a briefing room of some sort. It was bare except for an oval desk and a smattering of chairs secured to the deck. Apparently the Centaurians also had trouble with occasional gravity failures. They were an infrequent but annoying nuisance on SSC ships.
    Dtimun perched himself on the edge of the desk and folded his arms over his broad chest as he studied Stern. “The nearest route to Trimerius,” he began, “will still require five solar days’ travel. During that time, certain things will be expected of you and your men.”
    “Such as?” Stern asked.
    “The majority of the Holconcom were reared in a clonery.” He waited for the shock to leave Stern’s face before he continued. “They have never known touch, save in battle. I know little of humans, but it is said that you are a physical race. Take care that none of you lay hands on the Holconcom, either in sport or anger. To do so could easily provoke a massacre. Second, I expect no interference from your personnel in the routine of this vessel. Conversation will be held strictly to military necessity. Nor will I tolerate idle wandering in the corridors. While aboard this ship, your men will adhere to its disciplines. All personnel will run from post to post, and the first man I catch using a ship’s elevator tube will be brigged.”
    “May I ask what the elevator tubes are for?” Stern asked with growing irritation.
    “For transport of casualties, Captain, and heavy equipment.” He glanced at a viewscreen on the desk and his huge eyes darkened to a somber, angry blue-gray. His fist slammed at a switch on the console. “Degas, your lightsteds are at one-half capacity. Explain!”
    The