Indomitable (Chronicles of Promise Paen #2) - W. C. Bauers Page 0,16
foul moods personally, and don’t ever make him repeat himself. Understood?”
“Roger that. Thank you, Gunny.”
“You may not thank me afterward, ma’am.” Khaine took a quick look around the bay before turning back to Promise. “Permission to speak freely?”
Promise raised a weary eyebrow. I thought you were. “Okay, granted.”
“I’m going to be blunt with you, Promise. Charlie Battalion has heard the scuttlebutt about you, and some took the time to read up on the matter; at least what the Bureau of Public Affairs released to the nets.”
“What scuttlebutt?” Try as she might she couldn’t keep the edge out of her voice.
“You are a ballsy, can-do Marine. And, you did a lot of good on Montana. I couldn’t be prouder.” The gunny canted his head. “Others resent your success. Their ilk will always be with us. Some believe you’re a loose warhead. A glory hound who threw her command against a no-win situation. Only things didn’t turn out that way. The naysayers chalk it up to blind luck, which proves what they know.”
The gunny’s revelation lit Promise like an inferno.
“I remember that look,” Khaine said. “Think before you speak, Promise. That’s why I wanted to talk with you before you saw the colonel.”
Promise did her best to sit on her temper, turned away. Her hands started to shake anyway. I lost a lot of good people on Montana and nearly got myself killed, more than once, defending my star nation and her people; families and children who had to leave their homes because a megalomaniacal Lusie commodore invaded their homeworld. “You know I’m not a glory grunt, Gunny.”
“Not even close. But, I’m not the one you have to convince.”
Her head snapped around, nostrils flaring. “The colonel?”
“Safety that temper, ma’am. It will not serve you well. The colonel is not your enemy. He does not resent your past successes or wish to see you fail in the future. He just has reservations. The first sergeant came to me with questions. I told her you have my confidence and suggested she take the matter up with you personally. You may not want to hear this but I’m going to say it anyway. Halvorsen is your CO, and it’s his responsibility to figure out what sort of Marine you are. The competent can-do jane I know you to be, or a glory-sponging jackass.”
The gunnery sergeant held up his hands. “Easy, ma’am. I said he’s still trying to make up his mind. Look at this from his perspective. You took a severely understrength company of mechanized Marines and a few LACs, and fought off a full battalion of the same, plus twice the number of LACs, and a light CRURON of Lusie warships to boot. A lot of bars and stripes think you’re some kind of tactical witch.”
Promise snorted. “Hardly.”
“Careful, it just might stick. I suggest you consider cultivating that image. I’m not telling you to make stuff up.” Khaine grew thoughtful. “When the boots under you think you’re capable of more, it tends to raise the bar higher for everyone under your command. On the other hand, I’ve heard rumors too, and if they are even partially true some of the brass think you lost your battlefield perspective … and got lucky.”
Promise’s voice shook as she spoke. “All I did was my duty.”
“I know. Remember that when you see the colonel. There’s Lieutenant Jiles now. She will escort you to the lift.”
As Promise turned around, the gunny pitched his voice low, and just above a whisper.
“Promise, don’t ever forget who you are. Don’t ever let anyone else forget it either.”
Eight
APRIL 19TH, 92 A.E., STANDARD CALENDAR, 1031 HOURS
REPUBLIC OF ALIGNED WORLDS PLANETARY CAPITAL—HOLD
RNS NITRO, PARKING ORBIT WHISKEY-ECHO 6
“Come.”
The bulkhead door to the main deck’s holotank opened. Promise stepped through it and into a dimly lit expanse. The floor was carpeted and muffled her steps. As the door closed behind her, the darkness pressed in from all directions, and made her feel small. She keyed her minicomp to find the room’s schematic and realized her mistake the moment the screen glared to life. I should have used a red light. For a moment she couldn’t see a thing. Breathe, P, take it easy.
Her other senses reached out to compensate, peeling back the black one pitch at a time. Her ears detected the ever-present hum of a warship emanating from the deck and the overhead. Her feet sensed the ever-so-faint tremor reverberating beneath her, no doubt emanating from the warship’s massive fusion engines. The air smelled flat and