The Truth of Valor (51 page)

“We can’t fly with a slate!” Mashona protested, reaching over the chair to keep her hands by the cutter’s dead controls.

“But when Ryder has the power back up, I can reroute past damaged parts of the board with it!” Ressk told her.

The
Star
shuddered. Inertial dampers went off.

“Helm’s back. Ressk get the rest. I need eyes aft!” Craig dropped the ship straight down. “I can’t avoid what I can’t see.”

Werst ducked under Torin’s arm to hold Ressk in place as he worked his slate with his hands and the board with his feet.

Pieces of metal rang against the upper hull.

This time when Craig twisted to look up, Torin reached out and twisted him back toward the board. “What the hell . . . ?”

“Missile debris,” she told him.

“Detonated early,” Werst added. “Someone’s mounted an XR779 externally.”

“Sounded more like a 778,” Torin said thoughtfully.

“Yeah, well, either way, Navy needs to keep better track of its toys.”

“Not arguing.”

“You two are fukking nuts,” Craig muttered.

“Comm’s back!” Ressk yelled, all four extremities still working.

“Screens or weapons, Ressk.” Mashona bumped him with her shoulder. “Why the hell were you working on communications?”

“I wasn’t. Came back on its own.”

“Nav would be useful.” Craig swept two fingers across the screen, fast to the right. “Hang on . . .”

Torin nearly landed in his lap as the
Star
swung hard to starboard and up on a forty-five-degree angle. The front port was still too dark for stars, but she thought she could see the streaks from an energy weapon move diagonally past. Past was good.

Wait . . .

“If nav isn’t up, and you can’t see forward, how are you steering this thing?”

Craig shrugged. “Space is big.”

“Yeah, and remarkably full of shit. Ressk!”

“Working on it, Gunny! Nav is . . . shit!” He slammed his fist down on the board. “Life support is out!”

“What?”

“It’s okay! It’s back.” The first two toes of his right foot tapped out a syncopated rhythm, and a screen popped up. “There’s the aft view.”

“Screen’s got to be burnt!” Mashona protested as everyone stared at the clusters of lights. “Because if those are all ships . . .”

Torin snorted. “Big Bill offered a station discount to whoever takes us out.”

“Fifteen percent off,” Craig added, throwing an arm around her hips and pulling her against his side.

Mashona frowned at the scrolling data. “At least the station seems to have stopped shooting.”

“Yeah, well, I imagine it’s bad for business to blow up too many of your customers.”

Nose ridges flared, Werst had a hand cupped around the back of Ressk’s head, thumb scraping small circles through the bristles. “We are so screwed.”

“This is the Confederation battleship
Berganitan
. Stand down!”

“Or not.” Ressk scrambled for the volume.

Mashona expanded the aft screen. “They’re scattering.”

“But they are not going to be going far, so I are suggesting you are getting yourselves the hell out of here!”

“Presit!” Torin touched the camera still attached to her tunic with the heel of her injured hand.

Craig felt his brows rise pretty much free of any conscious involvement in the motion. “Presit?”

“You are thinking Torin are able to save you alone? Well, you are being wrong.

“Wait. You and Presit?”

Torin’s smile looked almost fond. “Turns out we had something in common.”

He was fond of the little furball himself, but Presit didn’t . . . Right arm still holding Torin close, he reached across his body and wrapped his left hand around Torin’s wrist, pulling her hand away from one of the fasteners on her tunic. “That’s a camera? That’s an illegal camera.”

“So not the time to worry about that,” Mashona murmured.

Craig ignored her. “You were filming for Presit? On the station?”

“Although I are not getting visuals when she are wearing the suit,” Presit answered before Torin could.

Torin sighed, and Craig suddenly realized just how much of her weight she was resting against him. Her eyes, or at least the one eye not swelling shut, looked as tired as he’d ever seen them. “It’s a long story.”

“And there are being no time to tell it now. Merik are sending equations to station where Wardens are waiting!”

“Oh, I just bet they’re still waiting,” Torin growled. “God forbid they should actually do something.”

“I are still recording.”

“I are not giving a crap.”

Smiling, although damned if he knew why because they were deep in crap whether Torin cared or not, Craig let his left hand fall back to the board. “Ressk . . . ?”

“Diagnostics are back. I’ve adjusted the parameter equations for damage taken.”

Hoping Merik was Presit’s pilot and not her PR flunky, Craig added the equation for the destination to Ressk’s adjusted equation for the
Second Star
and brought the Susumi engines on-line.

“Merik are saying it are being a good idea to get your thumb out. Although everyone who are watching my vids are knowing that where Gunnery Sergeant Torin Kerr are being, the
Berganitan
are being, too, we are not exactly looking like a battle cruiser if they are running long-range scans”

Resisting the urge to cross his fingers, Craig punched it.

“Five-day fold,” Ressk announced.

“Then I think you’d better sit down, Gunny.”

Craig glared Werst away from Torin’s other side. “I’ve got her, mate.”

“You’re not exactly in great shape yourself,” the Krai snorted.

The reminder made everything ache as he stood. “I’m good for this.”

“She’s got herself,” Torin muttered but Craig noticed she didn’t fight him as he half carried her across the cabin. They needed this. Needed the contact. He eased her into the bunk—a temporary measure, he’d be commandeering the
Star
’s three-by cabin for the two of them as soon as he had looked at her injuries.

“Ow.” She caught at his hand as he tried to pull the piece of fabric off her forehead.

“Fine. I’ll get a damp cloth and soak it free, you big baby.”

Ignoring their audience—Ressk, at least was trying to look like he wasn’t watching them—Craig limped across the cabin and opened the hatch to the head.

The young di’Taykan sitting on the closed toilet blinked pale eyes, yawned widely, and muttered, “It’s about fukking time. Who the
sanLi
are you?”

Backing up a step, Craig closed the hatch again. Took a deep breath and turned toward the bunk. “Torin, why do we have a di’Taykan in the head?”

“. . . and while it is true that you have gathered enough information that the
Law . .”

Years of practice allowed Torin to remain expressionless at the Warden’s emphasis. If the
Law
hadn’t been sitting on its furry ass, the pirates would have been dealt with and Craig would never have been taken.

“. . . has now moved forward and, working with the both branches of the military has all but eliminated this threat to peace and security in the sector of space shared by Vrijheid Station and, in point of fact, regained Vrijheid Station itself and prosecuted the one who created the false impression it had been destroyed . . .” One Who Examines the Facts and Draws Conclusions frowned. Torin suspected he’d gotten lost in his own rhetoric. He shifted slightly, highlights rippling across red-brown fur, and continued before the Niln sitting to his left could interrupt. “It is, however, undeniable that you, in the process of rescuing Civilian Salvage Operator Craig Ryder and preventing a certain criminal element from gaining control of a Marine armory, broke a number of Confederation laws. While the deaths of ex-Private Reerir, ex-Private Tirrik, and ex-Lieutenant Commander Doctor Christopher Stephens could be considered self-defense . . .”

“And have been judged to be self-defense,” Colonel di’Gui Salarji pointed out.

One Who Examines shifted his gaze off Torin and onto the lawyer the Commandant of the Corps had assigned her back before the judgment began. “Yes,” he agreed ponderously although, in all honestly, Torin had to admit that
ponderously
was the Dornagain default so she shouldn’t read anything into it. “These three instances have been judged to be self-defense, but there remains the assault of the civilian di’Carnibi Nia, abetting the illegal system tap . . .”

The colonel snorted. “An illegal tap in order to bring down an illegal system.”

“Breaking the law to assist the law is still breaking the law, Colonel,” Nawazinkah Huerzah pointed out, inner eyelid flicking across both eyes. “If the end is permitted to justify the means, chaos results.”

Lanh Ng, the first Human Warden, appointed to ensure Torin’s species rights were represented during judgment and clearly less than thrilled by One Who Examines’ need to recap the entire proceedings, seemed revitalized by Nawazinkah Huerzah’s interruption. He straightened and said, “Look, the decision of the Tribunal’s been made, so can we stop arguing about the minutia and get this over with?”

One Who Examines turned and stared down at him. “Minutia makes up the Law.”

Ng settled back in his chair and sighed. “Carry on, then.”

“As we have not yet completed our business, I will.” One Who Examines faced front, opened his mouth, and paused.

“Abetting the illegal system tap,” Nawazinkah Huerzah prodded, perfectly deadpan.

“Yes. Also in the issuing of the order to fire on the armory that resulted in the destruction of the
Heart of Stone
and the deaths of ex-Lieutenant Mackenzie Cho, di’Berinango Dysun, di’Berinango Almon, Natalie Forester, Huirre . . .”

For a moment, it seemed he might continue with the Krai’s full name. Krai family names were declarations of lineage and could go on for hours. Torin wasn’t the only one relieved when he continued.

“. . . and the engineer, Krisk.”

Colonel Salarji stepped forward, putting herself between Torin and the Tribunal. “The Confederation Marine Corps takes responsibility for those deaths as ex-Gunnery Sergeant Torin Kerr was acting on the Corps’ behalf in keeping a sealed armory out of the hands of the criminally insane.”

One Who Examines spread his hands, blunt claws clicking against the table. “And yet ex-Gunnery Sergeant Torin Kerr was not a member of the Confederation Marine Corps at the time.”

“The Corps allows there is no such thing as an
ex
-Gunnery Sergeant.”

Nawazinkah Huerzah’s tongue flicked out, Ng covered his mouth, and One Who Examines sighed. “So I have heard. It is then the judgment of this Tribunal, particularly considering the extensive evidence presented by Presit a Tur durValintrisy, that all but the destruction of the
Heart of Stone
may be dismissed under the weight of extenuating circumstances. The destruction of the
Heart of Stone
is a matter for the Confederation Marine Corps to deal with as it, as a body, sees fit. This inquiry is complete.”

Torin waited, standing at parade rest a pace behind the colonel’s left shoulder as the Tribunal filed out. Then she waited a little longer as the colonel turned and stared, her eyes dark. Torin resisted the urge to reach out and touch the plastic stylus clipped to the side of the colonel’s slate.

“Well, that’s that,” the colonel said at last “I’d advise you not miss any of your sessions with the Corps’ psychologists. And not just for legal reasons.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Say the word, and the Commandant of the Corps will put you back in uniform.”

“My regards to High Tekamal Louden, sir, but my vest is full.”

Deep-green hair flicked forward as Colonel Salarji frowned, but after a long moment, she merely said, “Take care of yourself, Gunny.”

“Thank you, sir.”

Torin waited until she heard the hatch close behind the colonel before relaxing her position. She touched the place a casualty cylinder would rest in a combat vest and closed her eyes. She’d carry Doc out, but the others could go to Hell on their own.

Craig and Presit were waiting for her in the corridor.

Presit made high-pitched clicks as Torin moved into the circle of Craig’s arms. Approval, disapproval—Torin neither knew nor cared. She hadn’t exactly been under arrest while the Tribunal made its judgment, but with Craig under a separate judgment—that took about fifteen minutes to clear him of any responsibility—the Wardens had insisted they be kept apart.

All things considered, Torin figured she was entitled to a moment, so she buried her face in the curve between Craig’s neck and shoulder, breathed in his familiar scent, and hung on tight.

“You okay?” His mouth against her hair, his voice was a soft burr of vibration she felt as much as heard.

“Got offered my old job back. Didn’t take it,” she added when he stiffened. “And the colonel warned me not to skip out on any therapy.”

His laugh held a touch of bittersweet. They’d actually crossed a number of things off the
we need to talk about this
list during the five-day Susumi fold to the MidSector station. “That’s one smart colonel.”