Free Legion Of The Damned - 06 - For Those Who Fell by William C. Dietz Page B

Fareye said once he and his companion were out of earshot. “Did you see the loot’s face when you told him about the Hudathan?”
    â€œYeah,” Dietrich replied, “I sure as hell did.”
    â€œSo, what do you think?”
    â€œI think the loot has a big ugly three-hundred-pound problem.”
    â€œSo, what should we do?”
    â€œWe’ll do what we always do,” the NCO answered calmly, “we’ll cover the loot’s six.”
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    The grapevine was usually faster than official channels of communication, though often less accurate, which was why battalion maintenance officer Captain Beverly “Bev” Calvo already knew the battalion was going to be deployed before she took the call from Colonel Kobbi. The destination was wrong, though, not that it mattered, since she’d never been to Worber’s World or Savas.
    All Calvo cared about was the fact that there were only three standard days in which to prepare, the brass was going to split the brain boxes and war forms between two differentships, and the battalion would have to operate independently for an extended period of time.
    That was why both she and the battalion supply officer, Captain Rono-Ra, had mustered their forces at the center of the 1st REC’s cavernous maintenance center. It was chow time, which meant that members of the other battalions weren’t likely to be around, and that was just as well. The prefab structure dated back to the inception of the now defunct Trooper III program and was forever imbued with the odors of hot metal, lubricants, and ozone.
    The Maintenance Officer (MO) was only five feet five inches tall—which was why she stood on the second step of a three-step maintenance ladder. Rono-Ra needed no such assistance.
    Calvo wore her usual combination of a blue kepi, stained overalls, and scuffed combat boots. She had a pretty face, but rarely gave the matter much thought or sought to emphasize the fact. What Calvo was known for was the specially equipped artificial right arm which she had been fitted with after losing the flesh-and-blood version to Thraki shrapnel. The MO had modified the artificial limb so that it could accept a full array of tools, including a cutting torch, impact hammer, and power wrench. Her fingers whirred as she motioned the audience forward. “Close it up, people . . . We don’t have much time.
    â€œThose of you assigned to snatch teams have been given lists of must-have high-priority parts. You were chosen for this assignment because of your contacts, your discretion, and your complete lack of scruples. Please don’t disappoint us.”
    Those assigned to the snatch teams knew the cap was telling them to steal the items on the list from the other battalions. They also knew that their peers would expect such a move and defend against it. But they laughed nonetheless and were in high spirits as they streamed out of the building through a quad-sized door.
    â€œAll right,” Calvo continued, “it’s up to the rest of you to prep the war forms, load the transit containers with supplies, and put the boxes aboard the ships. Check your hand comps for lists of what goes where and the load sequence.
    â€œFinally, hear this, and hear it good . . . Lieutenant Rono-Ra and I want every quad, RAV (Robotic All-terrain Vehicle), and tac box filled with food, ammo, and spare parts before they are loaded into the transit containers. Then, before the cargo modules are sealed, we want more stuff crammed into all the nooks and crannies. If you do it, and do it right, Lieutenant Rono-Ra calculates that we can increase the amount of supplies we take with us by a full 10 percent.
    â€œThat’s right,” the Hudathan put in. “And when the troops board, feed them first, fill their pockets with loose rounds, and tuck a roll of toilet paper under each arm. Does everyone read me?”
    There was a loud, “Sir! Yes