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than a company of Marines. So the loss of so many of Pahner’s Barbarians could almost be counted as a win.
    If you looked at it with cold enough logic.
    But it was hard to be logical when it was your Marines doing the dying.

    Kosutic smiled at the company commander. She knew damned well what he was pondering, in general, if not specifically. But it never hurt to ask.
    “Penny for your thoughts, Captain.”
    “I’m not sure what his mother is going to say,” the captain replied. It wasn’t exactly what he’d been thinking about, but it was part and parcel of his thought process.
    “Well, initially, she’ll be dealing with disbelief,” Kosutic snorted. “Not only that we, and Prince Roger in particular, are alive, but at the change in him. It’ll be hard for her to accept. There’ve been times it seemed the Unholy One Himself was doing the operational planning, but between you and me, the prince is shaping up pretty well.”
    “True enough,” Pahner said softly, then chuckled and changed the subject. “Speaking of shaping up, though, I take it you don’t think we can turn Julian into a swabbie?”
    “More along the lines of it not being worth the trouble,” Kosutic admitted. “Besides, Julian just pointed out that we’ve gotten awful shabby at close combat work, and I have to agree. I’d like to set the Company to training on that, and maybe some cross-training with the Mardukan infantry.”
    “Works for me,” Pahner agreed. “Despreaux took the Advanced Tactical Assault Course,” he added after double-checking with his toot implant. “Make her NCOIC.”
    “Ah, Julian took it, too,” the sergeant major said. Pahner glanced at her, and she shrugged. “It’s not official, because he took it ‘off the books.’ That’s why it’s not in his official jacket.”
    “How’d that happen?” Pahner asked. After this long together, he’d thought he knew everything there was to know about the human troops. But there was always another surprise.
    “ATAC is taught by contractors,” Kosutic pointed out. “When he couldn’t get a slot for the school, he took leave and paid his own way.”
    “Hmmm.” Pahner shook his head doubtfully. “I don’t know if I can approve using him for an instructor if he didn’t take it through approved channels. Which contractor was it?”
    “Firecat, LLC. It’s the company Sergeant Major Catrone started after he got out.”
    “Tomcat?” Pahner shook his head again, this time with a laugh. “I can just see him teaching that class. A couple of times in the jungle, it was like I heard his voice echoing in my head. ‘You think this is hot? Boy, you’d best wait to complain in HELL! And that’s where you’re gonna be if you don’t get your head out of your ass!’”
    “When in the Unholy One’s Fifth Name did you deal with Sergeant Major Catrone?” Kosutic asked. “He’d been retired for at least a decade when I joined the Raiders.”
    “He was one of my basic training instructors at Brasilia Base,” Pahner admitted. “That man made duralloy look soft. We swore that the way they made ChromSten armor was to have him eat nails for breakfast, then collect it from the latrines, because his anus compressed it so hard the atoms got crushed. If Julian passed the course with Tomcat teaching it, he’s okay by me. Decide for yourself who should lead the instruction.”
    “Okay. Consider it done.” Kosutic gave a wave that could almost have been classified as a salute, then turned away and beckoned for the other NCOs to cluster back around her.
    Pahner nodded as he watched her sketching a plan on the deck. Training and doctrine might not be all there was to war, but it was damned well half. And—
    His head jerked up and he looked towards the Sea Skimmer as a crackle of rifle fire broke out, but then he relaxed with a crooked, approving grin. It looked as if the Marines weren’t the only ones doing some training.

CHAPTER TWO
    Captain Krindi Fain tapped the