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funny. Lanzotta ended their agony by not noticing anything and going on.
"Our orders were to put down a rebellion on a godforsaken planet called Moros. Besides the troops,
we were supplied with everything known to modern military science including the latest fighting suit."
Sten studied it more closely. It was the largest, non-tracked piece of equipment on the rack. There were
tubes and wkes, minividscreens, and knobs and bulges everywhere. It looked like it weighed about five
hundred kilos and would take a whole battery of Techs to operate.
"I love this suit," Lanzotta said. "It can do anything. "It's AM2-powered and pseudomuscled. Anyone
inside it would be equal to thirty beings in strength. A small company dressed in these could advance
through any kind of fire the enemy threw at them. It's impervious to almost anything and you can live in it
for months without outside support."
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Lanzotta shook his head with the wonder of it all. "Of course, no one thought to brief the natives on
Moros. They weren't told what brave and fierce warriors we were. They didn't even know the word
technology, so what could they think?
"We landed and they ran into the jungle. We advanced under fire mostly spears and blowguns and
burned their villages. Then one day they grew tired of running."
Lanzotta laughed again. But this time, Sten and the others were too caught up with his story to notice.
"What they discovered was this: Yes, we were big strong soldiers with the fire power of a small tank.
But we couldn't maneuver. And we were cut off from our environment. So, they worked out this simple
little trick.
"They dug pits, camouflaged them, and then fled before our advance. Of course, many of us fell in. The
pits were lined with nets that tangled us up." Lanzotta wasn't laughing.
"And while we were struggling out of the nets, they'd run up to the pit and stick a big long spear through
the suit's waste vent The spear made large holes in the trooper inside.
"Naturally, the excrement was carried into the body. The wound festered so badly that the medpaks
froze up and many of us rotted to death." Lanzotta shook his head.
"We lost two-thirds of the guardsmen that made the assault. And more in another landing. Finally the
only solution was to dust the planet, sit back, and watch Moros glow."
Lanzotta patted the suit.
"Destroying planets isn't done in polite diplomatic circles. The Emperor was very unhappy."
Lanzotta grinned as he came to his final point.
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"The new Techs," he said, "started, redesigning the suit"
Sten wished he could find a place to hide. From the look on Lanzotta's face, he knew it would have to
be very deep and made of something at least as strong as titanium.
"It is a sin and an abomination in the eyes of the Lord," Smathers frothed. "It was my duty to report their
behavior to you."
Lanzotta stared at him, then at the two men standing at attention nearby. Sten, he ignored for the
moment.
"Colrath, Rnarak, is he telling the truth?"
"YES, SERGEANT."
Lanzotta sighed and turned to Smathers.
"Smathers, I have a distinct surprise for you. The Guard doesn't care about what beings do with each
other when they're off duty, so long as everyone falls out for formation the next morning."
"But "
"But you come from a world settled by the Plymouth Brethren. Fine. Some excellent guardsmen have
been produced by your beliefs. But all of them learned their ideas are not to be applied to anyone but
themselves. And since when have you ever interrupted your sergeant?"
Smathers stared at the floor. "Sorry. Sergeant."
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"Your apology is accepted. But have you ever been to bed with a man?"
Smathers looked horrified. "Of course not."
"If you don't know about it, did you ever consider that you're missing something?" Lanzotta said.
Smathers' eyes bulged.
"In any event," Lanzotta said briskly. "You are spending time worrying about something that is none of
your business. And since you seem so preoccupied ferreting
cesspools, I think we need one volunteer to clean the one in the barracks. You're accepted."
"You're not going to "
"I'm not going to," Lanzotta agreed. "Now move out."
Smathers walked down the barracks toward the latrine. Lanzotta turned to Colrath and Rnarak.
"While the Guard isn't concerned with what you do or don't do with each other, we still must respect the
beliefs of the other trooper. I am deeply distressed by the fact that you two couldn't be bothered to find a
private place for your recreation, and instead disturbed the sleep and happiness of other trainees. Go
help him clean the cesspool."
The two shame-faced men walked slowly away. Now Lanzotta turned his attention to Sten.
"Recruit Corporal Stenl"
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"Yes, sergeant."
"Why didn't you deal with this matter yourself?"
"I tried to, sergeant. Smathers insisted on seeing you."
"As is his right. Especially when confronted with a recruit corporal incapable of handling a
simple'barracks dispute."
"Yes, sergeant"
"First, you will remove those stripes."
"Yes, sergeant."
"Second, you will join those three on the cesspool detail."
"Yes, sergeant"
"Dismissed."
Sten followed the others out. Next time, he thought, he'd save everyone a whole lot of trouble and just
tear Smathers in half.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
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BASICALLY, STEN DECIDED, he didn't give a Mig's ass. He touched the anodizer to the last bit of
exposed metal on his weapons belt, then tucked it back in his cabinet.
Then looked up.
Tomika stood there, kitbag in hand.
He decided, for about the gigatime, she was the nicest-looking thing about training. And he'd tried.
Indeed he'd tried.
"Who's paired with you, Sten?"
"My left hand," he said.
She tossed her ditty on his bunk and started patting the pillow into shape. Sten's mouth dropped.
"Uh, Tomika? I asked before and "
"I don't bag with NCOs. I got standards." '
Sten suddenly decided it not only wasn't important, but it was funny, Broke his laugh off as he looked at
Gregor.
"You see what I meant," Gregor said. "And you were wrong."
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