Allegiance Read Online Free PDF

quietly.
    “Yes, General,” she called back, sitting up on the couch and stretching. “Please, come in.”
    “I trust you’re feeling better?” the other said, stepping into the doorway.
    “Much better,” she assured him, smiling as she crossed to him. “Thank you for your thoughtfulness.”
    “My pleasure,” he said, smiling back as he offered her his arm. “Shall we return to the reception?”
    “Yes, indeed,” she said, taking his arm.
    And let’s hope everyone enjoys it
, she thought as they headed past the watchful sentries.
It’s the last party Glovstoak will ever throw
.

Chapter Three
    M ARCROSS’S INFORMATION, AS USUAL, TURNED OUT to be correct. Six days after the Teardrop massacre an ISB tactical unit arrived aboard the
Reprisal
.
    They arrived in force, too: ten full squads, including officers, troopers, droids, even their own intel analysis group. More disturbing to LaRone were the two squads of stormtroopers who came with them.
    “Which means that whatever
they
do—shoot up another town, or worse—they’ll be wearing
our
armor, which means the whole stormtrooper corps will get the blame for it,” he warned Quiller and Grave as the three of them gazed down from the observation walkway into Hangar Bay 5. The ISB people had brought a strange assortment of vehicles with them, from light freighters to old and outmoded military transports and even a dilapidated pleasure yacht.
    “Not that we’re not blamed for everything anyway,” Quiller added with an edge of bitterness. “Comes from our always catching the tough ones.”
    “Which comes from our being the Empire’s finest,” Grave countered with a touch of pride. “We
certainly
have better transports than these clowns.”
    “What, you mean
those
?” Quiller asked, pointing at the cluster of ships below them. “Don’t you believe it, buddy, not for a minute. That Suwantek TL-1800, forinstance—see those crimp marks on the engine nozzles?”
    “Which one are we talking about?” LaRone asked, frowning at the unfamiliar designs.
    “That flat, angular job with the oversized sublight engines,” Quiller said, pointing. “Usually the 1800’s a piece of junk—holds together okay, but it’s slow, badly armed, and poorly shielded. The nav computer glitches a lot, too.”
    “Sounds perfect for the ISB,” Grave murmured. “Let’s turn ’em loose and let ’em get lost.”
    “Like I said, don’t believe it,” Quiller said. “Those engines have been upgraded probably six ways from Imperial Center, and odds are everything else beneath the plating has, too. Ditto for the rest of the ships.”
    “You suppose they run under false IDs?” LaRone asked.
    Quiller snorted. “They probably have whole racks full of them,” he said. “We may be the Empire’s finest, but you’d never know it when ISB gets up from the budget table.”
    “You have a problem with the ISB, soldier?” a dark voice demanded from behind them.
    LaRone felt his stomach knot up. It was Major Drelfin, the ISB man who’d ordered the massacre on Teardrop.
    “No, sir, not at all,” Quiller assured him quickly.
    “Glad to hear it,” Drelfin said as he stalked toward them, his hand resting on the grip of his holstered blaster. “Now, you have exactly five seconds to tell me what you’re doing in a restricted area.”
    “We’re Imperial stormtroopers, sir,” LaRone told him, fighting to keep the proper level of military respect in his voice. “We’re allowed access everywhere aboard ship.”
    “Really,” Drelfin said, his gaze flicking over LaRone’s fatigues. “Why aren’t you in armor?”
    “We’ve been permitted a bit of latitude in that area, sir,” LaRone said, choosing his words carefully. Regulations unequivocally stated that stormtroopers were always to be in armor whenever outside their barracks section. But Captain Ozzel resented their presence aboard his ship and didn’t like seeing armored men wandering around during their off hours.