Valor's Trial (21 page)

He'd used a sheet of smart fabric to make a desk? That was . . . different.

And then she remembered where she'd heard Colonel Mariner's name. Almost a year and a half ago, the Others had attacked a colony on the Edge during a diplomatic visit from Parliamentary representatives.Torin had no idea what idiot thought a diplomatic visit to the Edge was a good idea—there might have been an election in the offing; not her Sector, so she didn't really care—but the Parliamentary representatives had a military escort. Colonel Mariner had commanded it. His body had never been found.

Torin really hoped there weren't politicians tucked away in here somewhere.

Colonel Mariner was a staff officer, not a line officer. Which made very little difference, given their current location, but she'd have to remember to use a more delicate touch when dealing with him. The time spent on Ventris debriefing what felt like half the staff officers in the Corps now seemed to have become, in retrospect, a useful learning experience.

Within a forest of beards, he was clean shaven, and the dome of his head gleamed. Permanent depilatory. Torin vaguely remembered the style from around the time she'd joined the Corps and figured the colonel was lucky it suited him. It was also a fair indication that he was a man who made up his mind and never changed it.

She came to attention—because he expected it—and snapped out, “Gunnery Sergeant Torin Kerr, 7th Division, 4th Recar'ta, 1st Battalion, Sh'quo Company, sir!”

“At ease, Gunnery Sergeant.”

She dropped into parade rest and stared just past his left ear. “Corporal Mashona has told us a bit of your history until you were captured by the Others and dropped here with us . . .”
And I believe less than half of it,
added the subtext. “. . . and I'd like to hear the rest from you. And when I say
the rest,
I mean I'd like to hear how you came to be wandering the tunnels in such a way as to be picked up by one of my patrols.”

“Yes sir. It will require some background on the situation as I found it, sir.”

“Excellent. The present cannot be judged without an awareness of the past. Do you know who said that, Gunnery Sergeant.”

“No, sir.”

“Shirree Sataan. One of the great H'san philosophers. The only one ever translated into Federate.”

“Isn't ze also the one who said, the cheese stands alone, sir?”

“Ze adopted that from a Human philosopher, Gunnery Sergeant.” He leaned forward, shifting the highlight higher up the shiny curve of skin. Torin squinted slightly, and the major with the short beard bit his lip. “The background details, Gunny?”

So she told them about how Harnett had taken control. “That was the situation in that node when I arrived.”

“Good God!” Mariner's cheeks had flushed nearly purple. “He called himself a colonel? The man has to be stopped. Our policy of nonintervention as long as his people stayed on their side of the barricade has to be changed.”

Torin fought to keep her opinion of nonintervention from showing on her face. “He's been taken care of, sir.”

“Taken care of?”

“Yes, sir.”

The young major and the Krai captain seemed to have figured out the ending. The others were looking appalled, outraged, and a little nervous. Upon reflection, Torin decided the nervous major may have also figured out the ending.

Mariner began to relax slightly. “The Marines rose against him.”

“No, sir. I killed him.” She kept it matter-of-fact. She might have been reporting on the toilet paper inventory.

“They rose against his goons.”

“No, sir. I killed about half of them.”

“About half?” The colonel was no longer even a little relaxed. He looked as though he'd twang if flicked with a fingertip. “How many, precisely, is about half?”

“Precisely seven, sir. Sorry, eight.” She'd forgotten about tossing Bakune into the disposal unit. “And Harnett makes nine. And then I returned command to Major Kenoton.”

“So you're telling me that on your own recognizance, without orders, you killed nine Marines?”

“No, sir, on my own recognizance, I killed half the people who were starving a hundred Marines to death.”

“And Major Kenoton approved of this?”

“He preferred it to starving to death, sir.”

Safely out of the colonel's line of sight, the young major bit his lip again.

“And it never occurred to you to approach Major Kenoton and place yourself and your skills under his command so that due procedure could be implemented in the removal of Staff Sergeant Harnett from his position?”

It wouldn't have surprised Torin if some sort of due procedure existed for exactly that situation. There were officers on Ventris who did nothing but come up with due procedures without ever considering how to implement them in the field. “No, sir. Harnett would have kept me from approaching the major until I was too weak to stand against him.”

“I think you overestimate how much of a threat he'd have considered you, Gunnery Sergeant Kerr.”

The Krai captain leaned forward. Given that Colonel Mariner was sitting, that put his mouth right at his CO's ear. “Sir, she killed ten Marines who'd been handpicked for size, general badass attitude, and a willingness to crack heads. A few of them
must
have seen her coming.”

“And your point, Captain Diir?”

His nose ridges opened and closed. “My point, sir, is that I doubt Gunnery Sergeant Kerr is overestimating anything.”

Mariner shifted uncomfortably on the pallet. “Yes, well . . .” He looked down at the knife then back up at Torin. “Now we know how the situation stood when you arrived, perhaps you'd best fill me in on the details of how you resolved it.”

“Yes, sir.”

So she told him about meeting Kyster and the hunting party, about gaining the knife, and, eventually, about dealing with Harnett.

“You just walked in? Bold as brass?”

“Yes, sir.”

“What were you
thinking
?”

“That there was only one way to resolve the situation, sir.”

“But to kill . . .” His voice trailed off as though he still couldn't quite believe it.

Suddenly weary, Torin closed her teeth on a sigh. The Corps had taught her to pull the trigger, to divorce what had to be done from what she was actually doing. Killing Harnett and his men was no different from killing the Silsviss who had her platoon pinned down or any of the Others she'd faced over the years. It all came down to getting her people out alive. For all his lethargy, at least Major Kenoton had understood that.

Mariner's brows, particularly emphatic because of the lack of other hair, drew in. “And yet you barely fought when Lieutenant Schmid's scouting party discovered you.”

“I didn't want to hurt anyone, sir.”

“There were four of them, Gunnery Sergeant.”

The young major snorted and hurriedly covered the noise with a cough.

“Given the way your people responded when they met Harnett's people in the tunnels,” Torin continued, drawing the colonel's attention back to her, “I knew this area had maintained discipline.”

“Discipline is at the heart of the Corps,” he said, nodding approvingly. Although who or what he was approving, Torin had no idea. “But you were carrying one of their weapons.” A nod was redirected toward the obsidian knife. “Lieutenant Schmid assumed you were one of them.”

“A valid assumption, sir.”

“So,” he fixed her with what he likely assumed was a piercing glare. “Why are you here, Gunnery Sergeant?”

“My orders were to assess the situation in this area and to determine what plans had been made toward escape so as to prevent duplication of effort.”

He laughed at that, a short, sharp sound that held no humor. “There is no escape, Gunnery Sergeant. When you've been here a little longer, you'll realize that. Well, you've certainly given my staff and me plenty to discuss. Corporal Mashona.”

Mashona snapped to attention so perfectly she might as well have flipped him the finger. Fortunately, Torin was the only NCO around to see it. “Sir!”

“You will liaise with Gunnery Sergeant Kerr while she is with us.”

“Yes, sir!”

“Gunnery Sergeant.”

“Sir.”

“I expect you to keep a lower profile than you're in the habit of while you're under my command.”

The young major bit his lip.

“Yes, sir. I will need to report back to Major Kenoton, sir. Soon.”

“You won't get back to the barricade before dark, Gunnery Sergeant, so you'll be with us for tonight at least.” Mariner patted the knife. “I'll hang onto to this. Dismissed.”

“Liaise, Gunny?”

“Keep me from killing anyone.”

“Is he fukking kidding?”

Torin grinned and gripped Mashona's shoulder for a moment. Underground prisons apparently made her sentimental. “Don't worry, Corporal, I have every intention of staying on the colonel's good side. And I suspect he mostly just wants you to show me how to get fed, where to sleep.”

“He couldn't just say that?”

“Takes all types, Corporal.” She studied faces as they walked. “Any-one else here we know?”

“No one from Sh'quo Company, but Major Ohi came in the same time as Technical Sergeant Gucciard and me. He's the young guy who kept trying to not to laugh. He's artillery. Seven, two, four Fan'tal Company. I don't know about the other area, though—rest of the fukking company could be there.”

“There's another area?”

“Yeah.” She pointed toward the tunnel opposite to the one Torin had arrived by. “That way. Two day's walk. It's just like this one only with a lieutenant colonel as the ranking officer, so hopefully the stick up her butt is one rank smaller.”

“Mashona.”

“Sorry, Gunny.”

A familiar tone filled the node.

“There's chow,” Mashona said when she could be heard again. “You got a bowl?”

“I do.”

The bowls here were the same shade of brown, but the kibble was slightly lighter. Torin wondered if that was because this node put more officers into the mix. It tasted the same, though, and she figured she'd best keep the thought to herself.

“I never thought I'd miss field rations.” Mashona scooped a double fingerful of mush up to her mouth and swallowed with minimal chewing. “That's some great knife you came in with, Gunny. No one here's got one.”

“The surrounding tunnels don't cross the lava flow, then.”

“Captain Yonvic is going to love it. She's a . . .” A wave of her hand spattered a bit of mush onto the polished stone floor. “. . . rock person. She's always poking around the small caves. You won't believe this, Gunny, but she found two stones you can smack together to make fire. Well, sparks since nothing down here burns.”

“The captain found flint and steel?”

Mashona snorted. “Doesn't look like steel. Looks like two rocks. There's a whole bunch of one, though, and not much of the other. Scouting parties going out are supposed to keep an eye out for it.” She used her thumb to clear the last of the mush from the bowl, polishing the plastic clean. “So, Gunny, you really killed nine people at that other pipe?”

It was almost not a question, and Torin could tell it hadn't been prompted by disbelief. “Yeah.” She swallowed the last mouthful of her own mush. “I really did.”

“You okay with it?”

She was the first person to ask.

Torin had done what she had to do in order to get the job done and, given the job, she'd long since learned not to second-guess the tough decisions. She regretted Edwards, not because he was dead but because she'd killed him in anger. His death was a little too close to the line between soldier and killer. The rest? If they'd had a couple dozen MPs and a stockade, things might have been different, but since they didn't . . . nine dead and their deaths her responsibility measured against over a hundred alive and their lives her responsibility, too. “Yeah, I'm okay with it.”

Mashona nodded as though she'd heard both halves of the response. “All right, then. So, you really got a plan to get out of here, Gunny?”

“Beginning of one.”

“This lot . . .” She flicked long dark fingers in the general direction of a hundred or so Marines all concentrating on a plastic bowl. “. . . they just laugh when you talk about escape, you know? Like you're so new you don't know it can't be done.”

“Hasn't been. Doesn't mean it can't be.”

“That's what I said.”

Any of the Krai would have recognized Torin's smile. “Yeah, but they'll listen to me.”

“And thank the gods for that.” Legs crossed at the ankle, Mashona rocked up onto her feet. “Let's get you a pallet. Hope you don't mind bunking by me and the tech sarge, Gunny. We're all that's unassigned.

“After nearly a tenday?” Torin stood a little more slowly, still favoring her left knee.

“All six platoons want us, so the colonel is taking detailed request things.” One long fingered hand sketched the word in the air. “Starts with a
dee
.”

“Depositions?”

“That's it.”

“And Major Ohi?”

“He was added to the colonel's staff pretty much immediately so that the colonel could get all the new buzz. Me and the sarge were a bit less thoroughly debriefed.”

Torin spared a moment's sympathy for the young major as they approached one of the areas delineated by the lines of rock. There were no automated retrieval drones, but quartermaster stores never looked like anything but what they were regardless of the situation.