The Truth of Valor - By Tanya Huff Page 0,56

comm tech. She’d told a few “war” stories then. When it became obvious Torin wasn’t interested, they’d talked together about one of the guys in the band. “You think you can just waltz in here,” Kiku continued, “all I’m Gunnery Sergeant Torin Kerr and I survived a prison planet and I found the little gray aliens, and now we have to march in straight lines and do what you say? Fuk that. We don’t fight. We prefer to survive.”

“We have families,” Pedro added before Torin could respond.

They weren’t going to help, she realized. Her business was none of their business.

“You are losing them,” Presit murmured as people began to shuffle from the shuttle bay.

“I never had them,” Torin admitted, cutting her loses. She didn’t have time to convince them of the obvious. She raised her voice until it filled all the empty spaces. “I need to buy a ship. And I need it now.”

That got their attention. Every face turned back toward her. To her surprise, the first question was, “Why?”

“The Promise is damaged, and pirates aren’t likely to welcome reporters.”

“Everyone are playing to a camera,” Presit snorted quietly.

“You’re going after Craig alone?” Kiku again. When no one laughed with her, she flushed, her hair flattening, but she didn’t look away. “You don’t even know where the Heart of Stone is, do you?”

“I’ll find it.”

“Because you’re Gunnery Sergeant Torin Kerr?”

“Because they have Craig.” At least some of those in the room who were ex-military had served with combat troops in a time of war. Pulled a trigger and saw a distant body fall. Torin had killed up close and personal. People near the stage backed up as they heard that in her voice.

“How,” asked a narrow-eyed woman with three black lines tattooed down the center of her forehead, “are you planning on paying for this ship?”

Given the audience, that was the question Torin had expected to hear first. “I’ll cede my military pension.”

“How much of it?”

“All of it.”

“Oh, yeah. That’s just great.” A mocking voice rose above the murmur as the man with the ginger mustache who’d confronted her at the funeral moved to the front of the crowd. “You take that ship off to play hero against the pirates, and we’ll get sweet fuk all because you’ll be dead, and they don’t pay pensions to the dead.”

“I don’t plan on dying.”

“No one plans on dying.”

“You’d be surprised.”

He had his mouth open again, and Torin was seconds from putting her fist in it when Pedro called out. “You can have our small ship.”

He didn’t mean have as have it to save Craig, he meant have as in he’d take the pension. She could hear it in his voice. “I need a ship with a weapon mounted.”

“The Second Star has a recessed BN-344. We use it to cut debris apart.”

The BN-344 was the big half sister of the BN-4, the cellular disrupter /tight band laser the Corps carried in those places a projectile weapon would be unwise. Without the cellular disrupter attached, the big laser could also be used as a cutting tool. Her lip curled, but she nodded. His small ship was almost the same base model as the Promise. She could get it from point A to point B. “Deal.”

The crowd parted as she jumped off the stage. For a moment she wished they hadn’t—laying hands on even one of them would have helped her mood—then she ignored them. Their business wasn’t her business. The crowd stayed parted behind her, and she could hear Presit following. The reporter had sharp claws and no compunction about using them.

“If you come back, chica ...” Pedro closed a hand on Torin’s shoulder. “We’ll do another deal.”

Words that would wound rose to her tongue. She could see the damage stitching across his chest, spraying blood. Teeth clenched, she settled for shrugging out from under his touch and saying, “I’ll arrange for the transfer on the way to the ship.” She pulled out her slate. “Let’s go.”

“I are still coming with you,” Presit announced before Torin could move. “As much as I are hating to admit it, you are being right. This are going to be an amazing story.” She closed her hand on Torin’s wrist—claws dimpling the skin, fingers barely making it halfway around—and held her in place as she turned a sneer on the listening crowd. “And besides, as are having been mentioned before, Craig Ryder are being my friend.”

“There’s information on the pirates coming in from all over the station—I’ve directed

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