Valor's Choice

by Tanya Huff

  “When evacuating in territory held by the enemy.”

  “Sir?”

  “I am familiar with standing orders, Staff Sergeant.” His expression made it quite clear he found it insulting that she’d assumed he wasn’t. “The armory is to be blown when evacuating in territory held by the enemy. We don’t know who the enemy is, so we certainly don’t know what territory they’re holding. Do we?”

  “No, sir,” she admitted reluctantly, “we don’t. But we are in a wilderness preserve, filled with hormonally hopped-up young males attempting to prove themselves by combat. If they get their hands on our weapons…”

  “I think that Marine Corps security protocols are sufficient to keep out a boarding party of adolescent lizards, don’t you?”

  “With all due respect, sir, those sound like famous last words.”

  “Good.” His tone drew a line and suggested she not step over it. “Because those were my last words on the subject. We are not losing a chance to add an SW46, and one of these sammies to our defenses.” He stretched out a hand toward the locker holding the surface to air missile launcher and then, reluctantly, let it fall. “We don’t know how long we’ll be here or what we’ll be up against.”

  For some reason the phrase hormonally hopped-up young males kept repeating itself in Torin’s head.

  The lieutenant stepped out of the armory into the empty crew compartment, motioning for her to follow. “Lock up behind us, Staff Sergeant.” When she hesitated, he caught her gaze and held it. “You have your orders, Staff Sergeant Kerr.”

  The evacuation was a factual necessity. This was a difference of opinion, and he’d made it quite clear that she wasn’t going to be able to change his mind.

  “Locking up behind us, sir.”

  * * *

  “Sergeant Glicksohn reports that everyone’s topside, sir.”

  “Good.”

  As Torin followed the lieutenant into the civilian compartment, she frowned at a subtle difference in his gait. Was he strutting? And if so, was it because he felt he’d emerged triumphant from the armory? Or did he merely feel more confident because he’d given his senior NCO an order she’d disagreed with but she’d followed it anyway? The former meant he saw them in an adversarial position—either consciously or unconsciously—and that would be a bad thing. The latter was a part of the care and feeding of second lieutenants.

  I think I’ve had as many bad things as I can cope with today. She decided to give him the benefit of the doubt.

  “I wasss beginning to think you’d forgotten about me.” Cri Sawyes peered through a hole in the barricade, the claws on his right hand embedded in the seat cushion that provided the bottom boundary of the space.

  Lieutenant Jarret stopped well back out of arm’s reach. “I needed to get my people out and all in one place so that we can find out where you stand, together. If they’re all clear on your status, there’ll be no unhappy accidents.”

  “On my ssstatusss? The Ssstaff Sssergeant told you that the misssilesss weren’t oursss?”

  “She told me that you didn’t recognize them as yours and that she believes you.”

  “And what do you believe, Lieutenant?”

  “After considering all the information…”

  Which, since we know squat, couldn’t have taken more than about five seconds, Torin added silently.

  “…I have come to believe that you, personally, are not a threat and that nothing will be served by leaving you here. Although, just to be on the safe side, we will not be immediately issuing you with a weapon.”

  Cri Sawyes’ tongue flickered out. “Not immediately?”

  The lieutenant smiled—the expression charming in a di’Taykan way and therefore open to any number of interpretations. “The situation may change.”

  “Ssssituationsss alwaysss do.”

  “Staff…”

  Torin stepped forward, pulling the heavy bladed combat knife off her belt and hoping that it would actually cut through the Mictok webbing.

  “Allow me, Ssstaff Sssergeant Kerr.” Cri Sawyes bent out of view and a lower section of the barricade swung out into the room, using four thick strands of webbing as hinges. “I had plenty of time to ssstudy the conssstruction of my prissson,” he explained, emerging out into the compartment. “And no intention of going down with the ship.”

  Sheathing her blade, Torin examined the exit. “You cut through the chairs.”

  “Yesss.”

  “With your clawsss?”

  “Not entirely.” As he straightened, he snapped open a piece of his harness and pulled out a slender knife.

  The lieutenant shot an incredulous look at Torin. “No one searched him for weapons?”

  “It’sss not a weapon, it’sss a tool.”

  Torin wasn’t looking forward to taking it away from him.

  “I see.” Arms folded, the lieutenant swept an angry lilac gaze over the Silsviss. “Just so we’re clear on it, what other tools are you carrying?”

  Cri Sawyes patted a slender cylinder snapped into one the diagonal belts. “Jussst my cellular phone. But don’t worry, it’sss ussselesss here; we’re out of area.”

  *Contamination level now 5.3 and rising.*

  Levels were at 4.2 moments before in the armory—they were rising faster.

  “Sir.”

  “I heard.” He started back toward the door, indicating that Cri Sawyes should fall in beside him. “Since we’ll be spending some unexpected time on Silsvah, we’d appreciate any assistance you care to give.”

  “I would be more than happy to help out, Lieutenant.”

  Torin rolled her eyes at the quiet, conversational exchange. Still, with Lieutenant Jarret now handling the big picture, she was free to remember that Cri Sawyes was weaker on his right. Just in case.

  Taking a final look at the barricade, she followed the two males from the room—staying well back from the Silsviss’ tail.

  Given the patterns of the webbing over the stacked seats, she was afraid that the Mictok made better artists than engineers. Given that there was a Mictok working on the bridge, she hoped that observation was as inaccurate as most species generalizations tended to be.

  As she stepped out onto the VTA, Torin put her helmet back on and flipped her scanner down. Thirty-four live Marines, four bodies, four Dornagain, four Mictok, three Rakva, one Rakva body. No unfriendlies in range, no sign of Corporal Hollice’s team. She’d have been told if it was any different, but she liked to check for herself.

  Picking up her pace, she moved out and drew even with Lieutenant Jarret.

  “What’s he doing here?”

  Lieutenant Ghard’s yell had a parade ground carry that drew every eye.

  A number of Marines stood. A number of weapons were readied. Torin raised a hand, and that was as far as it went.

  Lieutenant Jarret snorted quietly and murmured, “I’ll handle this, Staff.”

  Torin answered in the same low voice. “Just making certain you don’t get shot while you do, sir.”

  If he had a response, Lieutenant Ghard prevented him from making it.

  “This,” he snarled up at Cri Sawyes, “is the reason we’re on the ground! His people shot us down! They killed two of my aircrew and almost killed Captain Daniels!”

  The Silsviss’ inner eyelid flickered out and in, but he made no other movement. Even his tail was completely still. Torin kept half an eye on his throat pouch.

  “Yours weren’t the only casualties,” Lieutenant Jarret began.

  “No, they weren’t,” Ghard interrupted, bare feet scuffing at the skin of the VTA as though he could barely hold himself back. “And his people are responsible for your dead as well!”

  “Whatever his people may or may not be responsible for, Cri Sawyes is not responsible for them.”

  “Isn’t he?” Ghard snarled. “Not everyone on Silsvah thought it was such a great idea to join the Confederation.”

  Which was the first Torin had heard of it, but she wasn�
�t surprised.

  “Not wanting to join the Confederation is one thing,” Jarret pointed out evenly. “One lone planet starting a war with a sizable piece of the Galaxy is something else again.”

  “Maybe they’re not one lone planet, did you ever think of that? Maybe the Others got farther into this sector than we knew!”

  Torin felt her stomach muscles tighten. She hadn’t considered that. Hadn’t wanted to consider it. Didn’t want to consider it. From the sudden, total silence, neither did anyone else.

  “Maybe,” Ghard continued driving the point home, “he was planted on board to ensure that any survivors of the crash died later, after we stupidly assumed he was on our side.”

  Jarret’s expression suddenly cleared. “So he and all the Silsviss have been our enemy from the beginning?”

  “Yes!”

  “And I, being new, wouldn’t have recognized this.”

  A little unsure if he was actually being asked a question, Ghard frowned. “Well, you…”

  “And Staff Sergeant Kerr?”

  “Wha…”

  “And all three sergeants? And an entire platoon of combat-tested Marines; they wouldn’t have recognized it either?”

  Torin fought the urge to stare at the lieutenant in admiration as every listening Marine suddenly realized that they would have noticed something. And since they hadn’t…

  “I don’t know who shot us down, or why.” Jarret raised his voice slightly, ensuring everyone could hear. “But here and now, Cri Sawyes is not our enemy.”

  Because Staff Sergeant Kerr doesn’t think he is. Torin finished the sentence in her head, sucked in a lungful of humid air, and exhaled sharply. And I’m right. Because this would be a very bad time to be wrong.

  “So you’re just going to let him walk around? Free?”

  The lieutenant looked from the Krai to the Silsviss and back again. “Yes. Given the unfamiliar terrain, I expect we’re going to need his help.”

  Ridges flushed, Ghard jerked around to face Torin. “Do you agree with this, Staff Sergeant Kerr?”

  “I believe Lieutenant Jarret has made his position quite clear, sir.”

  “But do you agree?”

  She gave him her best this-question-makes-no-sense look and threw enough of it into her voice that the listening Marines would have no doubt where her loyalties lay—which was also exactly what she would have done had she not agreed. If they were to get through this, there could be no question of who was in charge. “Yes, sir.”

  He stared at her for a moment, then nodded. “All right. Fine.”

  “If we might perhaps express an opinion…”

  “No!” Ghard spun around to face Ambassador Krik’vir who’d moved silently closer during the argument. “This is military business now, Ambassador, and has been from the moment the Silsviss opened fire.” Back facing Jarret, he threw his arms out from his body, hands open wide. “I didn’t want to have to do this…”

  Torin shifted her weight forward onto the balls of her feet. If he attacked, she’d take him out and worry about the consequences later.

  “…when did you receive your commission?”

  She blinked. Not what she’d been expecting.

  Not what Lieutenant Jarret had been expecting either. “You don’t mean…” When it became quite clear that was exactly what Ghard meant, he sighed. “The sixth day of the fifth month, Confederation twelve thousand, five hundred, and four. It was also the second of Mon gleen, for what that’s worth.” He flashed a brilliant di’Taykan smile.

  “You?”

  “Later.” Nose flaps opened and closed. “Which puts you in command.” The pause spoke volumes. “Sir.”

  Gods save me from junior officers, Torin pleaded silently and decided it was time to step in. “Begging your pardon, sirs, but General Morris’ orders put Lieutenant Jarret in command, regardless. Unless,” she added as both men turned, “the VTA takes off again. In the air, as long as Captain Daniels is unavailable, Lieutenant Ghard will be in command.”

  It was an inarguable position. And there shouldn’t have been an argument to start with. Torin only hoped that Ghard was still off-balance from the crash and the casualties and wasn’t planning on being a commissioned pain in the ass until rescue arrived.

  The next words out of his mouth didn’t show much promise. It wasn’t what he said, but how he said it.

  “Then if Cri Sawyes isn’t our enemy, who is?”

  “You were probably on the right track when you mentioned the Others,” Jarret told him. “They’ve been reported in this sector—the Berganitan is off chasing them. With our ship out of orbit, they could easily drop a small force through the Silsviss defenses.”

  “Not easssily,” Cri Sawyes protested, throat pouch extending slightly.

  “Easily,” Jarret repeated.

  Heads nodded up and down the surface of the VTA.

  “And what better way to keep the Silsviss from signing the treaty,” the lieutenant continued, “than by setting them up to take the blame for shooting us down. Had Cri Sawyes not seen the missiles, it might have worked.”

  It fit all the facts and most of the speculation, Torin reflected.

  “Or a group of Silsviss from this part of the world, who would logically have weapons that Cri Sawyes from another part of the world wouldn’t recognize, shot us down because they don’t want their planet to join the Confederation. It won’t work that way, but fanatics seldom realize they can’t win.”

  So did that. And where there’s two viable theories, Torin silently sighed, there could easily be a third or a fourth.

  Lieutenant Ghard stared up at the di’Taykan lieutenant. “So which is it?”

  Jarret snorted, a sound so unlike him it caught and held any wandering attention. “What difference does it make? We’re ground combat troops and we’re on the ground. We’ll handle whatever the situation throws at us.”

  “Hoorah,” Torin agreed, just loud enough to be heard and ignored by both officers.

  Ghard looked from the lieutenant to Torin and back again. “Good thing you’ll have Staff Sergeant Kerr to hold your kayt.” he muttered softly as he turned away.

  Which was an insult in Human or Krai, but he’d used the Taykan word and a di’-phase Taykan would be quite happy to have anyone hold his kayt without it affecting anything but his kayt. On the other hand, Torin reasoned, intent had to count for something.

  “Let it be, Staff.”

  She hadn’t realized she’d stepped forward until the lieutenant’s quiet command stopped her. “Yes, sir.”

  “And, Staff?” He’d moved up beside her, close enough to hold a private conversation while those who’d witnessed him taking command, dispersed.

  “Sir?”

  “Cri Sawyes may not be our enemy, but I’d appreciate it if you’d keep an eye on him anyway.”

  “I’d fully intended to, sir. And Lieutenant Ghard?”

  “As you said earlier, not your problem.”

  A few moments later, she found herself beside Cri Sawyes as Lieutenant Jarret spoke with the civilians. The Silsviss’ tail cut figure eight patterns through the humid air. “What?”

  “Among my people, a challenge sssuch asss that would have drawn blood.”

  “Which should make it interesting to integrate your people into our military.”

  “Interesssting?” His tongue flickered out. “You have a way with underssstatement, Ssstaff Sssergeant.”

  “Just part of the job.”

  * * *

  “How close is Hollice’s team, Staff?”

  “They’ll be here in ten, sir.”

  The lieutenant glanced down at the bags lying on the highest curve of the VTA. “Then we’ll wait.”

  * * *

  Torin checked the seals and stepped back. Waiting for the absent fireteam had been a fine gesture, but if they were going to reach their first camp before dark—with the Dornagain—they’d have to hurry.

  The Rakva had refused the use of a bag
and moments before had slipped the weighted body of Aarik Slayir into the mud.

  But the Marines didn’t leave their people behind.

  Lieutenant Jarret spoke the first acknowledgment of loss. “Fraishin sha aren. Valynk sha haren.”

  Beside him, Lieutenant Ghard bit a small piece from the back of his forearm. “Kal danic dir kadir. Kri ta chrikdan.”

  “We will not forget. We will not fail you.” It wasn’t the first time Torin had been the ranking Human. It never got easier.

  “Staff.”

  But then it shouldn’t get easier. She held out her slate and sent the command.

  The bags stiffened, then flattened.

  The ash fit into small cylinders that slid into measured spaces inside Torin’s vest. The cylinders were virtually indestructible. Even if her body was destroyed in combat, the remains of these dead Marines would still be recovered. She found that strangely comforting.

  * * *

  Calculating how much longer it would be until he could get his serley boots off, Kleers took three steps to the Dornagain’s one. A collarbone broken in the crash had gotten him assigned to escort duty even though the doc had put things pretty much back together. Since the walking sucked just as much at the front of the column as at the rear, he didn’t really mind.

  “There are those who say you can judge a civilization by how much respect they grant their dead.”

  “Really?” He pulled a handful of soft fruit off a vine as big around as his wrist, wiped off a few splatters of mud against his vest, gave them a thorough sniff, and popped them into his mouth.

  “If the dead has a large family, an internment on Dornage can take many days.”

  Kleers took another three steps and reached for some more fruit. “Can’t say as I’m surprised.”

  “How do the Krai treat their dead?”

  “We cook them and we eat them.”

  Thinks Deeply walked in silence for a moment or two. “And that is a sign of respect?” she asked at last.

  “Well, I’d have to say that depends on who does the cooking.”

  NINE

  “If the ridge joinsss up with higher ground here…” Cri Sawyes drew a curved line in the dirt and then crossed it, “…then the buildingsss I sssaw from the air are here.” He drew a square toward the end of the crosspiece. “They could be asss near asss three kilometers or asss far asss five.”