The Heart of Valour Read Online Free Page A

the integration protocols. Given how long it had taken before the Krai joined mixed fireteams, she figured she’d be long retired before she had to worry about maintaining discipline with di’Taykan-sized lizards in the ranks.
    When the briefing finally ended, just before 1300, Torin followed the major’s silent order and stepped back to let the room empty before she left. With the major acting as a barrier between her and any further questions, she kept her gaze locked on the far wall to give no one a chance to draw her into conversation.
    As the last officer retrieved his slate and disappeared out the door, Major Alie turned toward her and smiled. “Thank you, Gunny. Grab some food, and I’ll see you back here at 1400. The officers attending this morning have orders not to approach you out of this room, so you should be allowed to get to the SRM in peace.”
    “Thank you, sir.”
    The captain who’d asked the first question had been Intell, seeded into the group by Major Alie. It was inevitable those particular questions would be asked, so the major had arranged for them to be asked under controlled conditions. The timing, before the Q&A officially began, had allowed her to cut the questions off when the information she’d wanted released had been covered. It was a smart move.
    Torin appreciated smart, but she had no intention of mentioning that to the major. Intell got a little snotty when one of their subtle plans turned out to be that obvious.
    The afternoon session was a near exact copy of the morning’s—minus General Morris’ small part. Finished at 1800, she skipped the Senior Rank’s Mess and headed to a pub she remembered fondly from her last course on station. She was expecting a call and didn’t want it going through the duty officer before it reached her in the SRM. Off-duty and in a public part of the station, the message would be bounced straight to her implant.
    On the OutSector stations the lowest two or three levels of the center core were set aside for off-duty and civilian personnel. On a station the size of Ventris, certain broad concourses had been set aside for stores, bars, and cantinas. The recruits were given access to the lowest concourse on their last tenday. They never saw the other four until they returned to Ventris as Marines.
    Sutton’s, on Concourse Two, was about half full. A group of privates and corporals were watching mixed league cricket on the big screen in the corner. Apparently it was an oldEarth sport the Elder Races had taken to the way the H’san took to cheese, but Torin couldn’t see the attraction. Along the other side of the bar, eight of the small tables were full, two of them pushed close so a group of four officers and their companions could eat together. Three di’Taykan sat at the bar itself, bodies close and looking about five minutes from heading to someone’s bunk for the night.
    Torin took one of the small tables, where she could see both the door to the concourse and the door behind the bar leading to the kitchens, and coded her order into the tabletop. To her surprise, Elliot Westbrook, the grandson of the original owners, came out with the first part of her order.
    “Gunny,” he said as he set down the beer, “I hear you single-handedly got the Silsviss to join up. Any chance you can give me a scouting report on their beverage selection?”
    Seemed that Major Svensson was right; everyone on the station
was
talking about her. Still, it never hurt to cooperate with the man cooking dinner and, while information about how she’d single-handedly got the Silsviss to join up was classified, what the giant lizards drank was not. What’s more, if they were going to join the Corps, it was an important cultural touchstone. “The upper ranks drank fermented fruit juices, but the lower ranks usually drank beer.”
    “Good to hear.”
    “The beer was usually green.”
    Elliot grinned. “So they’re Irish?”
    When her pie arrived, he left her to it,