Valour's Choice by Tanya Huff Read Free Book Online Page B

direct access to the Navy net and power enough to reach any ship not in Susumi space should the company need to be pulled out. Her next promotion would also get her a few years away from combat and she had to admit she was looking forward to that as well.
    “Did you hear, sir?”
    Jarret grinned, lilac hair flicking back and forth. “I heard. Get them ready, Staff Sergeant.”
    “Yes, sir.” She called the platoon to attention as the hatch cycled open. She’d intended to have them tucked safely away on the VTA before the civilians boarded but the lieutenant had wanted everyone to get a look at each other before they left the ship. It was a good idea—the fewer surprises dirtside, the better—although she’d been a little surprised that her brand new second lieutenant had been the one to have it.
    The platoon looked good; not quite so dangerous as it did fully loaded, but good. And if there were a few nonregulation weapons tucked away in nonregulation places, well, these people were used to using every trick it took to stay alive, and she wasn’t going to take that edge away.
    The Mictok and the Rakva arrived at the top of the gangway before the four Dornagain had ambled across half the flight deck. Face expressionless, Torin amused herself by watching how every deliberate movement rippled new highlights through their thick fur. Then she amused herself by imagining them attempting to outrun enemy fire. Then she wasn’t amused.
    Captain Carveg should’ve sent them down an hour ago—then maybe we’d have left on schedule.
    The Dornagain ambassador reached the bottom of the gangway.
    Maybe two hours ago.
    The ramp had been designed for loading—and offloading— armored personnel carriers. After some discussion of weight ratios and stress factors, the Dornagain went up it in pairs.
    Somehow I doubt the Honorable Listens Wisely And Considers All has considered what a pain in the ass this lack of speed is going to be for the rest of us.
    When the last rippling highlight had disappeared into the forward compartment, Torin double-timed the platoon up into the belly of the beast, past the two APCs, past the armory, and into the troop compartment.
    “Sergeants, sound off when squads are webbed in.”
    “Squad One, secure.”
    “Squad Two, secure.”
    “Haysole, secure your feet or I’ll cut them off,” Glicksohn growled as the di’Taykan kicked a strap free.
    Turquoise eyes narrowed, hair flat against his head, Haysole retrieved the strap. “I don’t like it when I can’t move my feet, Sarge.”
    “What you like has crap all to do with life. Tie them down.” Cinching his own webbing tight, Glicksohn shot a “Why me?” look at Torin and snapped, “Squad Three, secure.”
    “Platoon secured for drop, sir.”
    Lieutenant Jarret had barely passed the information along to the pilot when the VTA dropped free of the Berganitan. “Making up for the Dornagain?” he wondered aloud as the platoon bounced against its webbing. “Or just trying to beat that storm in the southern hemisphere?”
    “More likely force of habit,” Torin told him. “General Morris, in his infinite two-starred wisdom, assigned a combat pilot to this mission—probably still trying to impress the Silsviss with our military might. Combat pilots flying VTA troop carriers hit dirt as quickly as possible in an attempt not to get themselves and their cargo blown out of the air on the way down.”
    “And in your experience, when they hit dirt, is their cargo able to walk away?”
    “Yes, sir.” She grinned, teeth together so as not to bite chunks off her tongue during a particularly vigorous bit of atmospheric buffering. “Most of the time.” A quick check on the platoon showed everyone more or less enjoying the flight. “Whatever it is you’re eating, Ressk, swallow it before we land.”
    “No problem, Staff.”
    “More like whoever he’s eating,” Binti muttered beside him.
    “You ought to count your fingers,” he suggested.