Vicky Peterwald: Survivor (Vicky Peterwald Series Book 2) by Mike Shepherd

the First Rangers as well as another captain of Greenfeld Marines present.
    Vicky eyed the collection. “Did you skip anyone?” she asked the commander.
    He made a point of appearing to think for a moment. “I might have missed a few. Do you plan to have the union folks in for dinner? Should I rouse the cooks?”
    Ignoring his humor, they quick-marched for the drop bay. Two bosuns had a longboat ready to go. It was brimming with Rangers and Marines before Vicky got there.
    Vicky settled herself into a seat and gave the commander a grin. “Gee, I think this is my first drop mission with Marines. I’ll have to write Kris Longknife all about it.”
    “Assuming you survive.”
    “She always does,” Vicky pointed out, optimistically.
    “You’re not her,” the commander countered.
    The two captains of infantry eyed them uneasily.
    “Are you two married?” Inez asked.
    “No!” Vicky spat.
    “No offense intended, Your Grace. It’s just that you two seem to enjoy arguing enough to be married,” the Marine captain provided, right on the downbeat.
    Before Vicky could manage a comeback, the shuttle dropped free, and the bosun hit the brakes hard.
    A few Rangers looked a bit alarmed, but the Marines seemed to take it in stride. A few glares from their NCOs settled the Rangers without a word spoken.
    “Where are we landing?” Vicky asked.
    “There’s a small strip outside the main mining town. The chief bosun at the controls assures me they can land short of the cow pasture at either end.”
    “And someone will be waiting to talk to us?”
    “That’s the latest rumor coming in on this secret side net.”
    Vicky found braking was throwing her sideways against the commander. He reached over and cinched her in tighter. He might or might not have copped a feel while doing it.
    Vicky ignored the matter.
    Besides, she kind of liked the feel of his strong hands.
    I made a resolution,
she reminded herself.
    And why should this be the first one you don’t break?
didn’t have an easy answer.
    On the ground, the commander held Vicky in her seat while the Rangers and Marines deployed, in that order.
    “Is there a problem?” Vicky demanded.
    “None so far,” the commander reported.
    When he decided it was safe for her, he let her unbuckle her harness and march determinedly from the longboat.
    The scene that greeted her was interesting. She stood in a valley between rugged, yellow ridges. The uplands were stark rock, bare of all but a few smudges of lichen and moss. The lower levels of the ridges, however, had some kind of low trees and brush covering them. Vicky could make out pigs and goats roaming the forbidding landscape.
    The valley floor showed bare and yellow in places. However, years of human waste had turned most of it to brown soil covered with growing crops or grass, with sheep and small cows roaming it.
    Vicky sniffed. She was surprised, knowing the mixture ofsewage, rock, and dust that went into this soil, at the fresh, growing scent that filled her lungs.
We humans go where we will and bring the smell of Earth with us.
    That was all the time she had for philosophy. A klick away from the lander, with a lot of armed troops in between, huddled several dozen civilians. No doubt, these were the people she’d come to meet. As she got closer, she could make out details. They were a mixed lot, young and old. Men and women. The one thing they shared was their clothes.
    They were durable, well-worn, and visibly patched.
    As Vicky strode toward them, an old man and a young woman came forward.
    Vicky greeted them with, “I am Her Imperial Grace, the Grand Duchess Victoria of Greenfeld. Call me Vicky,” and offered her hand.
    The old man stepped forward and shook it.
    “You was supposed to kiss it,” someone shouted from the crowd behind.
    “Either is acceptable. I kind of prefer shaking,” Vicky said. Actually, she loved to have her hand kissed. Guys usually took the chance to do nice things with their thumbs to