The Empire’s Corps: Book 01 - The Empire's Corps Read Online Free PDF Page A

minimal.”

    “The chances of anyone scoring tonight are non-existent,” Jasmine said, shaking her head when the waitress offered to take her beer and replace it. There was no chance of decent beer unless she was prepared to overpay. “We’re getting called into a briefing, remember?”

    “Fuck,” Koenraad said, with feeling. “You want to bet that the Old Man decided to piss us off just for the hell of it?”

    “No bet,” Jasmine said, before Blake could say anything. “Chances are that they tracked down the death-worshipping masterminds and they want to send us after them before they escape.”

    “I doubt it,” Blake said, as the waitress put a full glass of beer in front of him. Jasmine caught him eying the waitress’s breasts and shook her head at him. “If they found the headshrinkers behind the fucking cult, they’ll send the Civil Guard jerk-offs after them. They won’t let us get into them until the Civil Guard runs into trouble.”

    “Which will be about ten seconds after they launch their assault,” Koenraad said, dryly. “Those assholes couldn't organise a piss-up in a brewery.”

    “With beer like this, I don’t think they would try,” Rifleman Joe Buckley said, swallowing half of his glass of beer in one gulp. “Why not organise a gang-bang in a brothel instead?”

    “They couldn't get them up,” Blake said. He chuckled, rather nastily. “Has no one told you why the Civil Guard wears brown underwear?”

    Joe shook his head. “No,” he said. “Why...?”

    “It’s so that the stains won’t show when they run away,” he said. “They shit themselves when they go up against anyone who might actually put up a fight.”

    Joe looked down at his battledress and then up again. “Does this explain the brown underwear you gave me on my birthday?”

    Blake hesitated. “Well...”

    “Of course not,” Koenraad said, quickly. “They suited you.”

    “Asshole,” Joe said, without heat. “I’ll have you know that I wore my lucky red shirt today and got away with nary a scratch.”

    “Lucky bastard,” Jasmine said, wryly. Joe had a remarkable talent for getting into scrapes that should have killed him, but somehow managing to escape with his life. He had been known to claim that he had nine lives. Jasmine was tempted to believe it. “A pity the same can't be said for the others.”

    A moment of silence fell as they raised their glasses in silent unison. A Marine Company was a family, no matter how much they bickered and fought when off-duty. The dead would be remembered and entered in the permanent rolls of Marines who had died carrying out their duties, their names and records recited to new Marines who had just joined the Company. They would live on in the thoughts and deeds of their former comrades.

    “No,” Joe said, softly. “It can’t be said for them.”

    The music in the bar changed and the dancers started to strip off their remaining clothes. Jasmine watched them without particular interest, although both Blake and Koenraad were watching with lustful expressions on their faces. The women in the bars were almost certainly prostitutes as well as dancers, selling their bodies to military personnel for credits. She guessed, from what little she’d heard from the Earth-born in the Company, that they would never be able to aspire to anything higher in life. They had no hopes, no dreams...no future. Her homeworld had been socially conservative and constraining, but even there she’d had opportunities. The lower-class women of Earth had none. They couldn’t even find a berth on a colony ship.

    “Great lookers,” Blake said, swigging down his remaining beer. “I think I’ll go try my luck.”

    “Don’t be late home,” Koenraad said, as Blake started to get up. “You miss the briefing and the Sergeant will cut off your balls and stuff them down your throat.”

    Jasmine snickered. “Ah, if men could bend over enough to suck their own cocks, they’d be