Read Valor's Trial for Free Online Page B

conversation.
    â€œI are not liking her much,” Presit admitted, muzzle wrinkling, “but I are being sorry for your sake that she are being gone. If you are wanting company?”
    It took him a moment to realize what she was offering. The last thing he needed was Presit a Tur durValintrisy in his face while he was griev . . .
    While he was . . .
    While . . .
    â€œNo. Thanks. I’m fine.”
    Presit’s snort spoke volumes as the signal faded.
    He got no signal off the salvage tag, but ST7/45T2 was damned near to the edge of known space. Too far to read. Too far to go himself with no certainty of salvage on the other end although he ran the Susumi calculations just because.
    Then he returned to the job, working the edges of the debris field left behind when the Others slid a pair of battle cruisers into a system already claimed, scooping up the wrecked pieces of Navy Jades because, well, he had to breathe and oxygen wasn’t free although he had been thinking that if things went well, he might invest in a convertersince Promise ’s arms would do just as well capturing chunks of the small ice asteroids littering known space and with two people in the cabin . . .
    Sweat trickled down his sides as he stepped out of the air lock, faceplate polarizing in the unfiltered solar radiation.
    Torin hadn’t been ready to leave the Corps and he hadn’t been ready to push, but they’d both known where they were heading, sooner or later, and it wasn’t like he couldn’t do the job on his own because he’d been on his own since he started, but it’d be fukking pleasant to have some backup when the only thing separating his bare ass from hard vacuum was a twelve-year-old Corps surplus HE suit and a bit of luck. A second pair of eyes would . . .
    Craig locked the last piece of twisted metal and plastic in place, DNA residue flagged. DNA turned up in the strangest places. Once he’d found Human residue on wreckage from an enemy fighter. Navy had found the body months earlier and no one had any idea how those few cells had wandered. Once, he’d found a pilot, or most of one, in the crushed remains of her Jade. The Others had fried every system on her ship, and the commander had been nothing more than meat in space. The Navy couldn’t find her without a signal. He’d only found her because finding the small debris, too small for the military to waste time and money recovering, was how he lived, and he worked on instinct as much as equipment.
    â€œAnd what would I be doing while you’re using these well-honed instincts of yours?” Torin had asked as she pulled on her tunic.
    â€œSame thing you’re doing now,” Craig had said, tossing her a boot. “Keeping your people alive. Fewer people,” he’d added grinning, “but better job perks.”
    She’d matched his grin as she’d snagged her first then her second boot out of the air. “You think?”
    â€œYou haven’t complained.”
    â€œToo polite.”
    â€œBullshit.”
    He checked the pod configuration before he headed back into the air lock, loading the dimensions into his slate. The data went automatically into Promise ’s memory, but having survived one Susumi miscalculation, he had no intention of pushing his luck. Careless pilots were dead . . .
    Were dead.
    As the door cycled closed behind him, he clawed at the shoulder catches and dragged his helmet off the moment the telltales showed green, suddenly unable to breathe within the confines of the suit. Hands braced on his thighs, he sucked in deep lungfuls of air and forced his heartbeat to slow.
    Fukking irony that the panic attacks he used to have at the thought of sharing limited space and resources were now being caused by the realization that . . .
    No.
    If there was one thing Torin excelled at, it was staying alive.
    She wasn’t dead.
    He opened the inner door, stripped out of his suit, and hung