Free The Better Part of Valor by Tanya Huff Page A

that.”
    “Word is you’re working with a patchwork team—no two Marines from the same unit.”
    “Word?”
    Dave snorted and slathered butter over another thick slice of bread. “Fuk, Torin, gossip moves around a ship in Susumi faster than light. If you can’t get the hockey scores, you’ve got to talk about something.”
    “Word’s right, then. General Morris doesn’t want the information that an alien ship’s been discovered getting out to the media before we know what it is, so he decided moving individuals would be less noticeable. They’re a good lot, though. With a whole sector to choose from, he could choose the best.”
    “Yeah, but you’ve only got four days, five tops, to build ateam from scratch. Then you’re heading in to gods know what.”
    “Marines are infinitely flexible.”
    “Makes it easier to duck.”
    “I’m personally in favor of ducking.”
    “I personally am impressed your General Morris got Captain Travik away from MidSector without him alerting the media.” Dave grunted. “You planning on bringing him back in one piece?” Tone made
his
preference perfectly clear.
    “That’s my job.” Her tone pretty much matched his.
    “Word has it you were the general’s special choice.” When Torin rolled her eyes, he added. “So what did you do to piss off General Morris enough for him to stick you with the ego that walks like a Krai?”
    Unable to separate certain Krai specialties from the more prosaic Human provided varieties, she waved off a tray of mixed cheeses. “Believe it or not, he gave me the job because he wants it done right.”
    “No, really.” He grinned. “Did it involve unspeakable acts.”
    There were bodies everywhere, most stopped by fire, then shot. Against the south wall of the remaining building were places where the bodies were piled three deep. The smell of burning flesh could be ignored, but the smell of burning blood was very nearly overwhelming.
    “You might say that.”
    *   *   *
    Torin glanced down at her slate and shook her head. “Squad One, mission objective; find whatever it is that’s sending out the BFFM signal and get back to the air lock with it, keeping Mr. Ryder alive while you do.”
    All heads turned toward the salvage operator.
    “Mr. Ryder…”
    “Staff Sergeant Kerr.”
    “…your objective,” she continued, ignoring the cheery interruption, “is to stay alive.”
    “I think I can do that.” His smile had picked up that annoying intimate cast again.
    “Corporal Harrop is squad leader. You will obey his orders. Corporal.”
    “Staff?”
    “You will give those orders recognizing Mr. Ryder is a civilian.”
    “Civilian.” Because of the helmet’s faceplate, Harrop had to tilt his head to rake the other man head to toe with an unimpressed gaze. It took a while. “Right, Staff.”
    “Take them in, Corporal.”
    *   *   *
    He’d come mostly out of boredom. And curiosity. And because he realized Staff Sergeant Kerr had been right. They had no idea what they were going to face inside that alien ship, and it was best to be prepared. But when she asked, he planned to make it clear that preparation was the least of his reasons.
    She never asked.
    She’d looked up, nodded, as though she’d never doubted her logic would convince him to show, reminded the roomful of black uniforms who he was, and told him he was with Squad One. No surprise. No happy smile of recognition. He hadn’t expected either, but he wouldn’t have minded a little credit for voluntarily walking into a hazardous environment with a group of armed strangers.
    Shuffling into the simulator’s air lock beside Heer, the Krai engineer, Ryder leaned down and tapped him on the shoulder. “What’s a BFFM, mate?” he asked when the Marine glanced up.
    “A Better Fukking Find Me.”
    “We’re looking for a Better Fukking Find Me?”
    “You having receiver trouble? It’s a Flishing 117, isn’t it? I can take it apart without cracking a seal on