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tendays, Torin told Hollice to check him out and continued circulating.
    Sh’quo would be the last of the three GC companies to load. Most of the Marines had their slates out playing a game biscuit or writing one last message home; a few, like Mysho, were going through their gear, fewer still were sleeping. There were a couple of quiet conversations, a couple of louder conversations, and another shoving match broken up by their teammates before Torin could get across the floor.
    The engineers would load after Sh’quo and then Recon—last on, first off.
    â€œGunnery Sergeant Kerr!”
    Torin knew that voice. She turned, slowly, figured what the hell, and smiled at the dark-haired young woman currently trying not to smile at her. “Private Kichar. I see you’ve gone into Recon.”
    Dark eyes narrowed over a prominent nose. “How . . .”
    â€œCollar tabs.”
    Kichar flushed slightly but didn’t glance down at her tabs. Point for her, Torin acknowledged. “I just wanted to say it’s an honor to be serving with you again, Gunnery Sergeant.”
    â€œI can’t say I’m unhappy about it either, Kichar.” And she meant it. The battle on Crucible had knocked the stick mostly out of Kichar’s ass—the creases pressed into her combats indicated she was still an annoying overachiever, but there’d be plenty of battles to knock that out of her, too.
    â€œI didn’t ask to be posted to 4 th Recar’ta 1 st Battalion after training,” Kichar explained.
    â€œShe doesn’t want you to think she’s stalking you, Gunny.” The Krai corporal’s teeth were showing as he detached himself from the crowd and moved into their space. “Even if all she does is fukking talk about you.”
    â€œYou don’t think I’m worth talking about?”
    He snorted. “I don’t know, Gunny. What’ve you done lately?”
    Kichar’s eyes narrowed further, her weight shifted forward, and she was clearly about to do something she’d just as clearly regret about five seconds after doing it. Torin closed a steadying hand around her arm. “It’s okay, Kichar. Lance Corporal Werst was with me on Big Yellow—although he was a private then.”
    â€œAnd I’d be one again if they let me give the fukking hook back,” Werst grunted.
    Torin grinned. She’d bet serious credit on him ending up career Marine. “I’m sure you can figure out a way to lose it.”
    Although she managed to keep from grabbing the much shorter Krai, Kichar’s hands kept opening and closing. “You never said you served with the gunny before.”
    Werst shrugged, a Human gesture both the di’Taykan and Krai had adopted. “So? Dursinski’s here too, Gunny. Still bitching.”
    That was a surprise. The lance corporal hadn’t seemed to be enjoying her time in the Corps. A bigger surprise that she’d remained in Recon given the attrition rate. “She reupped?”
    Werst shrugged again. “Said it beat looking for a real job.”
    â€œThat’s not,” Kichar began, paused and frowned. “You were kidding?”
    â€œNot me,” Werst told her, nose ridges pinching shut. “Dursinski might’ve been.”
    â€œGunny, I need to . . .”
    â€œAsk the corporal what she meant?” Torin interjected into the pause. “Go ahead.”
    â€œFuk, she’s annoying.” Popping something in his mouth Torin was just as glad she couldn’t identify, given the Krai were as indiscriminate in their eating habits as the di’Taykan were about sex, Werst nodded toward an argument among the engineers. “You going to deal with that?”
    The trio of specialists seemed to be disagreeing on who’d be carrying what equipment. Before Torin could work up enough interest to care, a Human technical sergeant broke it up, smoothly separating the combatants and