The Better Part of Valour

  ALSO AVAILABLE FROM TANYA HUFF AND TITAN BOOKS

  THE CONFEDERATION SERIES

  Valour’s Choice

  The Heart of Valour (February 2014)

  Valour’s Trial (April 2014)

  The Truth of Valour (June 2014)

  Peacemaker (November 2014)

  THE ENCHANTMENT EMPORIUM SERIES

  The Enchantment Emporium (January 2014)

  The Wild Ways (March 2014)

  The Future Falls (May 2014)

  The Silvered

  THE BETTER PART OF VALOUR

  A CONFEDERATION NOVEL

  TITAN BOOKS

  The Better Part of Valour

  Print edition ISBN: 9781781169681

  E-book edition ISBN: 9781781169698

  Published by Titan Books

  A division of Titan Publishing Group Ltd

  144 Southwark Street, London SE1 0UP

  First edition: December 2013

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.

  Copyright © 2000, 2013 by Tanya Huff. All rights reserved.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

  A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library.

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  Contents

  Epigraph

  One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Six

  Seven

  Eight

  Nine

  Ten

  Eleven

  Twelve

  Thirteen

  Fourteen

  Fifteen

  Sixteen

  Seventeen

  Author’s Note

  About the Author

  You Do What You Do: A Confederation Story

  The worst of times bring out the best of people.

  This is for the rescue workers who died going up the stairs.

  ONE

  “And the moral of the story; never call a two star general a bastard to his face.”

  Stretching out his regenerated leg. Captain Rose leaned away from his desk and drummed his fingers against the inert plastic trim. “I’m a little surprised you didn’t already know that.”

  “You and me both, sir.” Staff Sergeant Torin Kerr stared down at the general’s orders on her slate. “You and me both.”

  “Still, I suppose you could consider it a compliment that General Morris wants you on this reconnaissance mission.”

  “Yes, sir, but somehow when I think of ‘an unidentified alien vessel drifting dead in space,’ the word that tends to stick is dead. And I’ve barely recovered from the last time the general took a personal interest.” Before looking up, she cleared her screen with more emphasis than was strictly necessary. “Considering how the diplomatic part of the last mission got redefined as getting our asses kicked, I just hope I can survive what he considers recon.”

  The captain smiled, pale skin creasing at the corners of both eyes. “You kicked some ass yourself, Staff.”

  “Yes, sir, I did. Although I admit I had help from a platoon of Marines and Lieutenant Jarret. Both of which,” she added, “I wouldn’t mind having with me this time.”

  “Should I authorize an armored unit as well?”

  “I wish you could, sir.” Hooking her slate onto her belt, Torin drew in a deep breath and accepted the inevitable. She’d made herself memorable to the top brass and would have to live with the consequences—although the little information she had made survive the consequences seem more accurate. “He wants me on the next coreward shuttle. There’ll be transportation arranged once I reach MidSector, but he doesn’t actually say where I’m going.”

  “He’s a general, Staff. He doesn’t have to say. Ours is not to question why.”

  “Yes, sir. The next shuttle leaves in just under two hours. Unless the general’s arranged for me to skip decontamination. I’ll have to hurry.”

  The captain nodded, agreement and dismissal combined. “See that you hurry back, Staff Sergeant. I’ve got a new First, and he’s got a shitload of new recruits he could use your help with. This is a lousy time for you to go gallivanting around the galaxy.”

  “I’ll be sure to mention that to the general, sir.”

  “I’m hoping you’re smarter than that, Staff.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Staff?”

  She paused, just outside the door’s proximity sensor.

  “General Morris’ parentage aside, it’s entirely possible he recommended you for this mission because you’re the best person for the job.”

  “General Morris’ parentage aside, sir, I never doubted that.”

  * * *

  And it started out as such a good day, Torin growled silently as she walked to the nearest vertical. Admin had finally cleared the files sending Binti Mashona to sniper school. Corporal Hollice was getting a well-deserved promotion to sergeant, a number of the new recruits actually seemed to have arrived with half their brains functioning, and, thanks to the situation on Silsviss, Sh’quo Company was so far down on the rotation that the Others would have to overrun the entire sector before they were sent back out. I should have known something would happen to fuck it up.

  *Report to shuttle bay twelve for decontamination in forty-six minutes.*

  Years of practice kept her from visibly reacting to her implant’s sudden announcement. It hadn’t taken Captain Rose long to post her orders to the station system.

  A quick glance up and down the vertical showed a cluster of people descending but a clear fall below them all the way to C deck. With every intention of using General Morris’ name not only in vain but in any way possible should the necessity arise, Torin dove headfirst down the shaft. The turn in mid-fall slowed her slightly, but she was still moving fast enough to set off the safety protocols when she grabbed the strap and swung out onto the deck.

  *Please exercise more caution in the verticals. This is a level one warning.*

  Torin tongued in an acknowledgment without breaking stride. She could live with a level one. It took three in a Tenday before the station reported them and she’d be gone long enough that this particular warning would have been wiped by the time she returned.

  Unhooking her slate, she began locking down her desk as she walked—sealing her personal folders and encrypting the rest to Sergeant Chou’s access codes. Anne Chou would be senior noncom for the platoon while she was gone and would at least give Lieutenant Jarret someone he’d already...

  “Is it true, Staff?”

  She looked down at the Krai private who’d suddenly appeared beside her. Given their difference in height, all she could see was the mottled top of his hairless head which gave no clue at all to the meaning of his question. “Is what true, Ressk?”
/>
  “That instead of a promotion and comfy tour at Ventris Station teaching diritics how to survive, General Morris has detoured you to a Recon mission.”

  “I’m impressed; those orders have been on system for less than ten minutes.”

  Ressk lengthened his stride to keep up, bare feet slapping against the floor. “I guess once you pull somebody’s brass out of the fire they expect you to keep doing it.”

  “That is the way the universe tends to function.” At the lock leading to SRQ, she paused. “You got a reason to be on this level, Ressk?”

  “Sergeant Aman wants to see me, Staff. And when I saw you, I thought I’d say...”

  The pause lengthened.

  “Private?”

  His nose ridges flushed. “Could you talk to the general, Staff? Exploring an unidentified alien vessel floating dead in space— that’s always been my dream!”

  Torin blinked. “You’re kidding?”

  “No, Staff, I’m not. You know there isn’t a sys-op I can’t get into. I could be useful on this kind of a mission.”

  “I don’t doubt that, but I’m sure there’ll be specialists...”

  “I’m faster. If it’s a matter of life and death, you’re not going to want some specialist...” The word emerged somewhere between an insult and profanity. “...taking their time, doing everything by the book.”

  “Ressk...”

  “I haven’t even read the book!”

  *Report to shuttle bay twelve for decontamination in thirty minutes.*

  “If I can. I’ll talk to Captain Rose before I go.”

  “Thanks, Staff. You’re a real chirtric.”

  It wasn’t every day she was called a delicacy, Torin reflected as she continued toward her quarters, but even if she managed to talk to Captain Rose he’d have no time to speak to the general before the shuttle left the station.

  * * *

  The captain’s Admin clerk agreed to pass the message along. “You do know that captains aren’t in the habit of paging two star generals and suggesting they should make use of personnel with what amounts to illegal computing skills, don’t you, Staff?”

  “Not my problem.” Torin thumbed her kit bag closed. “I told him I’d try to talk to Captain Rose. The captain was unavailable, I spoke to you. My conscience is clear.” Her slate made a noise somewhere between a snort and a snicker. “You have something to add, Corporal?”

  “Just my best wishes for a successful mission and a safe return, Staff Sergeant.”

  “Thank you. Kerr out.”

  The double tone closing the connection sounded as she glanced one last time around the room, noted both living and sleeping area would pass at least a cursory inspection, and crossed to the door. The empty sockets of the Silsviss skull on the shelf over her entertainment unit seemed to follow her every move. A couple of the more politically correct Battalion NCOs had objected to having the skull of a sentient species mounted in the Senior Ranks’ Mess, so rather than stuff it into a recycler, she’d brought it home.

  “Don’t look so concerned,” she told it. “I’ll be back.”

  *Report to shuttle bay twelve for decontamination in twenty minutes.*

  In spite of a crowd on the lower beltway, she made it with seven minutes to spare and could walk across the lounge to the shuttle bay without challenging the belief, widely held by the lower ranks, that sergeants and above controlled time and therefore never had to hurry.

  “Staff Sergeant Kerr!”

  Torin checked her watch, then turned. His lilac eyes a couple of shades darker than his hair, Second Lieutenant di’Ka Jarret, her platoon commander, rushed around the end of an ugly gray plastic bench and hurried toward her. As incapable of looking awkward as any of his species, he didn’t look happy. “Sir?”

  “You were just going to leave?” He didn’t sound happy either.

  “The general’s orders were specific, sir. I had forty-six minutes to get to decon and you were at Battalion. Captain Rose sent you a copy of the orders.”

  “I received the captain’s transfer, Staff Sergeant,” the di’Taykan informed her, drawing himself up to his full height. Torin stared at the pheromone masker prominently displayed at his throat and just barely resisted the urge to crank it up a notch. A small indiscretion some months previously had left her more susceptible to the lieutenant’s chemical invitation than she should have been. One night he’s a pretty young di’Taykan—one of the most enthusiastically undiscriminating species in the galaxy— and next morning he’s her new second lieutenant. There were times Torin thought the universe had a piss poor sense of humor.

  Had her time been her own, she could—and would—have waited indefinitely for him to continue. His last declaration had exhibited an indignation junior officers needed to be trained out of—the greater portion of the universe, not to mention the Marine Corps, ticked along just fine without them ever being consulted.

  However, as she was currently on General Morris’ clock...

  “I sent a message as well, sir. Wrote it on the beltway. Station should have downloaded it to your slate by now.”

  She half expected him to check his inbox. When he didn’t, she allowed herself a small smile. “I appreciate the chance to say good-bye, sir. You must have really hauled ass to make it all the way down from Battalion in time.”

  “Well, I...”

  “Staff Sergeant Torin Kerr, report to decontamination at shuttle bay twelve.”

  “Tell the whole station,” Torin muttered, as her name, rank, and destination bounced off the dull green metal walls of the lounge.

  “I think they did.” The lieutenant’s hair and ears both had clamped tight to his skull. “You’ll, uh...” When Torin lifted an eyebrow in his general direction, a skill that had been well worth the price of the program, he finished in a rush. “...you’ll be coming back?”

  “I always plan on coming back, sir.” She took a step closer to the decontamination lock. “Every time I go out.”

  “I know. I mean...”

  “I know what you mean, sir.” One of the most important functions staff sergeants performed was the supporting of brand new second lieutenants while they learned how to handle themselves in front of actual—as opposed to theoretical— Marines. The realization that this relationship wasn’t necessarily permanent, that said support could be pulled out from under them at the whim of those higher up the chain of command, always came as a bit of a shock to the young officers. “During the time I’m temporarily detached from the company, you can have complete faith in Sergeant Chou’s ability to handle the platoon.”

  “I do.” He opened his mouth to continue, then closed it again. After a moment’s thought, he squared his shoulders, held out his hand, and said only, “Good luck, Staff.”

  “Thank you, sir.” When, like any di’Taykan, he tried to extend the physical contact, she pulled her hand free and moved into the decontamination lock’s proximate zone.

  “Staff?”

  A half-turn as she stepped over the lip and into the outer chamber. The lieutenant was smiling, his eyes as light as she’d ever seen them.

  “Is it true you called General Morris a bastard?”

  * * *

  Torin stowed her bag in the enclosure over her seat and took a look around the military compartment. Forward, a pair of officers sat on opposite sides of the aisle. The Human artillery captain had already slid his slate into the shuttle’s system and, from the corner of screen Torin could see, had accessed the hospitality file—although it wouldn’t dispense his drink until they were in Susumi space. Her seat on full recline, it appeared that the di’Taykan major had gone to sleep. Torin wondered if she’d already made the captain an offer and was resting up. And if that’s why the captain was drinking.

  In the aft end of the compartment, half a dozen privates and a corporal were settling in. According to their travel docs— available to sergeants and above from the shuttle’s manifest— the corporal from Crayzk Company’s engineering pl
atoon was heading Coreward on course and the six privates were on their way back to Ventris Station to be mustered out.

  She had the NCO compartment to herself.

  As the shuttle pulled away from the station, the walls separating the sections opaqued. Although the center aisle remained open along the length of the compartment, it was easy enough to maintain the illusion of privacy between the ranks—an illusion Torin was all in favor of. She as little wanted to be responsible to the officers as she wanted to be responsible for the junior ranks.

  Half an hour later, the shuttle folded into Susumi space. Since little changed from trip to trip, they’d be spending only eight to fourteen hours inside, emerging four light-years away at MidSector at the same time they left. Torin pulled a pouch of beer from her alcohol allotment and settled back to watch the last three episodes of StarCops, one of the few Human-produced vids she hated to miss.

  But neither Detective Berton’s attempt to find the smugglers bringing the highly addictive di’Taykan vritran into Human space nor Detective Canter’s search to find the murderer of a Krai diplomat could hold her attention. She might as well have been watching H’san opera. When the third episode featured a government official throwing his weight around, she thumbed it off and glared at her reflection on the screen.

  If General Morris wanted a recon team to investigate im unknown alien spacecraft, the Corps had plenty of teams he could choose from. Torin didn’t know whether he wanted her to replace the staff sergeant from an established unit or to be a part of a team he’d built from scratch, but either way she didn’t much care for the idea. It was inefficient. And bordered on stupid.

  She could do the job. She understood that as a member of the Corps, she was expected to pick up and move on as the Corps saw fit. And she took full responsibility for the actions that had lodged her in the memory of a two star general.

  But stupidity at high levels really pissed her off.

  Because stupidity at high levels was the sort of thing that got people killed.

  A Krai territorial cry sounded from the rear compartment, closely followed by a stream of happy Human profanity. Jerked out of her mood, Torin was startled to see she’d been brooding for almost an hour.