Virtues of War Read Online Free PDF Page A

of glamour and style. Thomas instinctively glanced down to check his dress uniform.
    His high-collar blacks sported shoulder boards with twin silver bars plus star—indicating his rank and appointment—and his breast gleamed with the accomplishments of two decades in the service of Terra. Qualification badges for Fleet warfare director, Corps infantry commander and Joint fast-attack spoke to his breadth of training, and five medals heralded his experience and dedication to duty. His eyes lingered on one particular decoration, the Distinguished Service Medal, which he had earned during the… recent troubles.
    A few cameras focused on Thomas and Soma as they ascended the steps, even if no reporters spoke to them. He stole another look at his wife and appreciated anew how beautiful she was. A colder part of his brain assessed that together they were quite a media target, and he wondered if they might merit one of the supporting photos on a “society montage” in one of the tabloids—a tall, decorated veteran and a beautiful, wealthy socialite. Mixed-race marriages were all the vogue right now, so that alone would probably earn them a place on a media spread.
    They passed through subtle security at the entrance to the building and were politely directed into the vast open room that could serve as a parade ground, a sports arena, or even an execution site, but tonight had been beautified into a ballroom. Banners of every major military command hung between the pillars, the bright lights at floor level fading upward into the clever illusion of a starry sky overhead.
    Hundreds of guests already mingled on the polished floor, and at the far end of the room an entire array of machines from both the Army and the Astral Force were on display. His eyes automatically sought out the dark, sleek, and familiar shape of a fast-attack craft, but after only a moment’s longing gaze, his attention focused again on his social responsibilities.
    Tonight’s receiving line was high-powered indeed. And electronic security, while invisible to the casual observer, was omnipresent. A discreet scan of their personal, embedded identity chips—the thought of which naturally brought to Thomas the image of Soma’s perfect breasts, and the complete absence of an implant scar between them—had already identified them to the senior officer at the head of the receiving line, and they were announced.
    “Lieutenant Commander Thomas Kane and Mrs. Soma Kane.”
    Thomas kept his face neutral. Although his actual rank was lieutenant, as the skipper of a fast-attack craft he’d enjoyed the appointment to lieutenant commander. But since his ship was now little more than a cloud of shattered parts on a thousand-year orbit falling in toward the sun, he knew that his appointment was only a bureaucrat’s whim away from being removed. The less attention brought to this fact, the better.
    Sure enough, the Fleet Marshall glanced at Thomas’s shoulder-boards. He kissed Soma’s hand, introduced his wife, then looked again at Thomas.
    “How are you settling into your command, Mr. Kane?”
    This wasn’t the way an ambitious young officer was supposed to meet his supreme commander—returned from battle having lost the first vessel entrusted to him—but media training had taught him to turn difficult questions to his advantage.
    “She was a fine ship, sir,” he replied confidently, “but she was lost in the breakout from Centauria.”
    “What ship?” Exactly the right follow-up.
    “
Rapier
, sir.” It was too easy.
    The Fleet Marshall’s predatory glare softened. Down the receiving line, other very senior officers looked over with sudden interest. Apparently the entire Astral Force and even the Army had heard the name of the little ship that had unleashed Terra’s newest weapon.
    As Thomas introduced his wife along the line to a virtual galaxy of military brass, he forced an expression of humility to lock down the smile that fought hard to split his