Pioneers: Creation

Hell Week (Part 1)

Hell Week (Part 1)


         The hangar was a hive of preparation aboard the Bema.  SEALS and marines moving around, prepping gear while ship crews made final adjustments to various equipment.  Dropships were being loaded with armor already and they weren’t pulling punches with light tanks.  The MMC was going to war against two enemies.


         Arch couldn’t help but think this was all a bit ridiculous.  But then he remembered Tamaki on Dardel.  The fires and confusion and the loss of Dellanos.  He remembered Ruki coming on him like a flash and knew he’d somehow dodged death.  He’d heard of the pair’s shootout escape and the serious wounds some had incurred.  Hell, rumors of what exactly happened to Jamerson and his entire team were freshly floating around, but all Arch needed to know was that they’d all been wiped out in a straight-up fight.


         ‘Maybe Burlai’s really in the right,’ he thought.  ‘The guys sure got pumped up.  It’s a switch.  Before that we were starting to see those two as gods or something.’  He frowned.  ‘Maybe they are, for as well as Jamerson faired.’  That was easily the most disturbing thought.  16 men, gone.  The MMC’s best, wiped out by what could have been a single solitary person.  And they were sending him in as part of another 16-man team to target said person plus one.


         ‘Wish Preesly were around.’  Wicks was a good enough leader, but if things got hot and ugly...he’d heard of some of the shit the old SEALS commander had pulled his boys out of.  But Preesly was gone and his old team left on standby until Top figured out who to lead them next.


         “Whadoyou think, L.T.?”  Arch shook his head, clearing it.  Seemed Breggs had been chatting him up awhile now without his noticing.  More impressive figuring the man’s considerably larger form.


         ‘God, Keverall.  Get your head in gear,’ he thought.  “What was that again?”  Breggs gave him a strange look.


         “Hell, you with me L.T.?  I said this job’ll be cakewalk.  We’re in our element, ya know?”


         “What element is that?” Arch asked as he began walking toward the parked ships.


         “You know.  On the attack.  Stealth in, strike hard, sort shit out later.  Old school SEALS.”  The young lieutenant couldn’t help but roll his eyes.  “What?”


         “Breggs, we’re not old school SEALS.  We’ve never worked like them.”


         “So?”


         ‘So this whole thing is good only in theory, but we’re probably about to get riddled with plasma,’ he thought, but did not dare say.  Morale was good.  Instead he replied, “So keep your eyes and ears open, keep your wits sharp and cover the team.  Slack off and I’ll know it.”  The larger Terran grinned at that.


         “Yes sir,” he said, separating and moving for his own ship.  Arch watched him go before entering the passcode into his Raven.  His blood felt cold.  As much as the others were pumped up, the bad feeling he held so deeply would not leave him.


-------------------------


         They were there.  Ripe for the plucking.  An order and there would be so much firepower raining down God would have a tough time surviving.  What stopped such an order?  Nothing, really.  When Terrace had seen the two out in the open he’d told his weapons operator to incinerate them - after all, if 16 SEALS operators could kill them why couldn’t an orbital gun?


         The real problem was the 10 meter energy shield they seemed to have set up just above their heads.  Must’ve been portable considering the range they were from their ship, but it was unbelievably powerful nonetheless.  Six shots and counting from their orbital guns and the damn thing was still holding.


         ‘It can’t hold forever,’ he knew.  Well, he hoped he knew at least.  There was no way to measure it’s strength until it actually broke.  In the meantime the pair were setting up so much equipment nobody really had a decent clue what to make of it.  ‘Preparing for a long, drawn out stand.’


         Still, the shield wasn’t that wide.  They couldn’t set up turrets or mines with any real effectiveness so what did that leave?


         “They’re trying to take out our orbital guns,” Baragossa said softly, for his ears only.  Terrace looked at the older Admiral thoughtfully then back to the viewscreen.  “I’ve seen that equipment before.  A stand for a blast cannon with such a powerful scope as to lock onto objects in orbit.”


         The younger Terran recognized it.  Barely.  “Very unconventional weaponry.”


         “Indeed.  Weapons of the sort have little real hope against a ship of Bema’s proportions.”  Terrace frowned at that and the admiral quickly picked up on his sudden discomfort.  “Speak your mind.”


         The commander hesitated a moment before saying, “I do not trust Tamaki’s tactics.  He has an unbelievable grasp of small unit warfare.  If he plans on firing a blast cannon at us, he is not doing it in vain.”


         “What are your orders then?”  Terrace frowned further.  Baragossa had said it so simply yet he knew the pain it had to cause him, saying such words to a man so far under him.


         “We hold in place.  It would do us little good leaving Tamaki’s line of sight.  Perhaps it is even what he is attempting.”  Baragossa mirrored his frown, but it was plain he did not disagree.  After all, what could truly be done against an unknown?


-------------------------


         “Have you ever actually tried this?” Ruki asked as she set down another set of equipment after yet another mad dash to avoid the incoming fire.  Her newest partner didn’t so much as look up from his work.


         “In VR a few times.  Once on a dummy.”


         “Oh.  Good.  So we’re trying a farfetched, half-baked idea which has worked only in training.  That’s good at least.”  She smiled toothily.


         “My teacher had a habit of never being wrong.  I never got around to using most of his tactics in real combat, but the few I have were sound.”


         “So now I’m trusting somebody I’ve never met.  Goody.”  Finally Kenshi looked up.


         “His tactics are my tactics.”  He went back to work, adjusting the sights on the stand.  Again.


         “And looky.  You never did manage to catch me.”


         “Forgetting the Titan so soon?  It’s alright.  You were delusional with plasma.”


         “As I recall, that didn’t last long now did it.”  A red blast crashed down a mere meter above their heads, deafening the pair for a moment and casting a bright red glow across the snow-covered mountainside.


         “The shields won’t hold up much longer,” he said.


         “Then hurry the fuck up.  I’ve got better things to do than get cremated.”


         “Like?”


         She blinked, said, “What?”


         “Like what?”  Kenshi looked into the scope, began adjusting the blast cannon within the stand.


         “Oh, I dunno.  Rob people, make new friends, kill them when they betray me and rob their corpses.  You know.  Fun stuff.”


         “Ah.  Right.  Make friends with the wicked, kill them, profit.  Sound plan.”  He pulled the trigger and a lance of red flashed into the sky.  Ruki watched it go then smiled down at the Terran.


         “Yeah, I know.  Not so evil now, am I?”


         “Oh, you’re evil.  I actually theorized once that the devil is keeping you alive just so you won’t usurp him once you go to hell.”  Another flash of red.  The pirate nodded absently, thinking it over.


         “Maybe you’re right.  Never thought you a big religious sort, though.”


         “I’ve got my beliefs.  You?”


         “Never thought about it much,” Ruki replied.  “So what are these so-called ‘beliefs’?”  Yet another flash of red.


         “I’ve seen some strange things.  Some miraculous, some not so much.  Don’t know what’s out there and I doubt I will until I die, I simply think it’s there.”


         “This a good or evil being we’re talking about?”


         “Good, I think.”


         “Really?  I gotta hear this.”  Another shot.


         “If things were easy we’d never be tested.  There would be no determination on what sort of people we are.  If there is no strife people simply dissolve into nothing.  On the other hand, good things happen for no reason.  It’s kept in balance.  We work for what we want.”  He fired again.  “Mostly, anyway.  Besides, you know you’ve done things right if nobody knows you’ve done anything at all.  Keeps away beggars and people who can’t act by themselves.”


         “So you’d call the universe good?”


         “Could be a lot worse.”


         “Fair enough,” she said, satisfied.


         “And you?”  Red spiked through the sky.  Ruki shrugged even though she knew Kenshi couldn’t see it.


         “It’s a question of what I find more believable.  There came a being from somewhere who somehow started it all or there was nothing.  Then it exploded.  Plus it’s a little odd to me that most advanced races ended up celebrating one god with a vaguely similar belief system.  But, don’t know what it is, don’t care.”


         “I figured you’d have some kind of belief.”


         “Really,” she said doubtfully.


         “You don’t strike me as boring enough to be yet another atheist.”  The pirate grinned and watched the sky.  Somewhere up there a lot of people were going through a lot of hell.


         “I do believe you just complimented me, Kenshi.  I’ll make it up to you later.”


         “I’ll keep a gun under my pillow in case you do.”  She pouted.


         “Handcuffs would be nicer.”


         A shot of red flashed upward.


-------------------------


         “Hull breach to Deck 7.”


         “Weapons systems at 19%, orbital weapons down.”


         “Weapons systems at 12%, orbital guns offline.”


         “Engines blown!  Engines blown!  Need assistance!”


         “Power offline.  Reserve power going down fast.  We need assistance immediately.


         “Weapons systems at 23%.”


         “Be aware, all visuals and sensors offline.  We require a tow ship immediately.”


         “Hull breach to Deck 12.”


         The warnings kept pouring in.  God only knew how the hell he was doing it , but Tamaki with his puny blast cannon was devastating the fleet.  Terrace could only massage his temples as the reports kept coming.  The rest of the bridge crew was trying to organize everything, but the damage was done.  If they hoped to take Tamaki and Ruki out they’d have to enter atmo.


         Looking to the viewscreen he could see the pair had already abandoned the blast cannon in favor of setting up various supplies.  They knew the MMC was coming - knew they were safe from the fleet.  Arrogant bastards.


         “Baragossa,” Terrace said calmly and his second turned to him quietly.  “I want all their movements recorded for the next hour.  Send it down to Lt. Wicks when you’re finished.”


         “Yes sir,” the admiral said before relaying the order.


         “Rykov, I want Wicks down there ASAP.  I want a lay of the land, but he’s not to approach within 200 meters of that ship until I give the word.”


         “Yes sir,” the young officer replied before leaving to personally give the order.


         It was a terrible risk, giving those two so much time, but he wasn’t about to send 16 men out there blind.  Tamaki and Ruki had already proved more than a match for a SEALS team attacking as such, but what if such a team were properly prepared?


         ‘Not like those two won’t be as well.’  Already he could see them entering the forest where the thick canopy of branches and pines would keep most intelligence teams guessing for a full day at least.  ‘Tamaki knows this.  He knows we’re watching and he’ll adjust accordingly.  Anything we pick up could even be a decoy.’  Pleasant thought, that, but it was better than nothing.  Caution would be the name of the game for the 16.


         Damage reports kept coming and the commander rubbed the bridge of his nose in a vain attempt to stem the headache he felt coming fast.  Somehow he doubted caution would be enough.


         ‘But what else is there?’


-------------------------


         “Camouflage.  Christ.”


         “Who?”  Ruki called over the radio.


         “Nevermind,” Kenshi replied.  Ally could’ve made a damn good weapon’s contractor.  Auto turrets with camo systems.  He wouldn’t be able to tell the difference between them and a bush if he tried.  Sure as hell saved him a lot of work.  “How long’ve you been working for Ally anyway?”


         “Couple centuries.  Not long after I started working for money.”


         “I take it you were the test subject for new equipment.”  There was a pause from Ruki’s end.


         Then, “That fucking whore!”  Kenshi rolled his eyes and set down another turret.  “I’m gonna kill her.  This time I really mean it too.  Dead.”


         “After we get out of here.”


         “Yeah yeah, I know.  So the idea’s to wait for ‘em to come and unleash these things on the first MMC to pass through.”  The Terran looked over and saw the black form of Ruki place another turret down.


         “Right.”  The plan was simple.  Let the MMC wander in a ways thinking they were about to overpower the duo.  Then BAM!!!  Turrets activate, cut through their ranks like a hot knife through butter and demolish ‘em.  Survivors would be all but forced to retreat then BAM again.  Detonate a line of explosives, leveling the forest for 200X100 meters as well as all but a handful of MMC.


         “Wait for the second attack then,” the pirate said.  He frowned.


         “Why?”


         “The MMC aren’t going to send a full force after us unless pushed into it.  Military types are arrogant like that.  Always like their “elite teams” or whatever handling the dirty work, even if it’s beyond them.”  Kenshi frowned further.  She was right.  Proper tactics weren’t always the ones used.  SEALS had proven ineffective thus far, but Top would still see them as the tip of the spear.  They’d only hammer them with a more powerful force if everything else failed, hoping to avoid unnecessary loss of life or damage.


         “True enough.  I’ll finish up here.  Start heading for the explosives.  I want to set ‘em up in their LZ before they get here.”  Ruki giggled.


         “Aye aye, Cap’n.”  Kenshi took a moment to watch her prance away before going back to work.


         ‘How in the hell is this partnership working without us killing each other?’ he had to ask himself for the hundredth time that day.  Sure, there wasn’t an overly large amount of choices at that point, but being actually amiable?  ‘Cindelliac changed something.’


         Flashes of events passed through his mind.  Him helping her and her doing the same right back.  For what?


         ‘Later.  Work now, think on it later.  Don’t have time to go there.’  Head back on track, he placed another turret.


-------------------------


         They set down two kilometers outside their target and went to work immediately.  Eight men set up a perimeter for their ships and any others which might land should things go to hell, the other eight split up and started scouting the area.


         Arch was in the latter group.  The target point was directly north and they had a lot of area to cover so it was he and Breggs scouting the left flank.  Breggs was usually a support gunner, but for this assignment he’d chosen a much lighter assault rifle to move faster.


         Not to say they were moving anywhere close to fast.  It was slow going.  Any traps needed to be surveyed beforehand and two kilometers by another kilometer in a forest would take awhile.  The one saving grace was the snow alerted them to any tracks the pair had left.


         “Got a set, L.T.,” Breggs said at the tail end of a half hour. Arch frowned and looked where the Terran gunner was pointing.


         “Split off and walk carefully.  Your scouter reading anything?”


         “Nothin’.”


         The young lieutenant frowned, taking another scan with the device.  No movement.  No foreign objects.  What’d they been up to out here?


         “Wicks, we have tracks.  No traps, but I don’t like it.”  The radio chimed in.


         “We have the same thing over here, boss,” a voice said, static overruling his ability to identify the voice.  He frowned further.  Was the area blocking signals?


         “Proceed carefully,” Wicks said.  “Make sure you’re not stepping into a decoy.”


         They moved twice as slowly, but still found nothing.  No traps.  No movement.  Just tracks, as if they’d decided to take a stroll through the woods.  After another hour looking at trees, bushes and footprints they’d been forced to move forward, if uncomfortably.  Still there was nothing but snow and silence for the eight scouts and when their scouters chimed in at 200 meters the men were forced to stop and fall back.


         All of them were creeped out.  Arch could feel it stronger than the chill air.  Nothing was right and every man knew it.  When they made it back to camp the remaining SEALS weren’t looking much better.  Wicks had them gathered around a briefing monitor and none looked happy about what they saw.  The group reformed and Wicks nodded at him.


         “Top has their movements recorded, but we might as well watch a nature channel for all it’s given us.  Trees block their movements and whatever they’re wearing blocks out thermal imaging,” their commander said grimly.


         “Then we’re walking into this blind.  Tamaki did something out here, but we can’t find head or tail of anything but tracks,” Arch replied.


         Everyone stayed silent for a long moment as the two officers looked over the 14 fellow SEALS operatives.


         Then, “Alright, listen up.  We split into four teams.  We’ll take it slow and stealthy, understood gentlemen?”  A less than enthusiastic chorus of “Hooyah,” went up.  “Good.  Everyone suit up heavy.  We’re gonna hit these sons of bitches hard.”


-------------------------


         Arch was the second man in line with Lossman at point, Breggs behind him and Marl at rear guard.  He couldn’t help but feel particularly sorry for Marl.  Saugin weren’t made for extreme cold weather, even as thickly built as he was for his kind.  The bright midday sun didn’t help any, seeming to make the area feel more crisp than anything.


         His scouter bleeped as they passed the 200 meter mark and Arch felt his jaw clench.  Any moment now the action could start.  Any patch of snow was one they had yet to step over.  Any of them could die at any second.  To counter this they tried to step in the same footprints, though Lossman wasn’t helped any by this.  The nervous point man seemed especially aware of this and he knew the man’s shaking wasn’t entirely due to the cold.


         Then he stopped and kneeled and everyone followed suit, scanning the area for signs of trouble.  After a second of this Arch moved over to his point man, looking over his shoulder.  He didn’t like seeing the man’s rifle shake.


         “Whadoyou got?” he asked.


         “Movement, straight ahead.  Saw something.”  Arch looked again.  If there was one thing to remember about Lossman it was that he had damn good eyes.  The man made hawks look blind.  Even so, neither he nor his scouter picked up anything.


         “Sure it wasn’t a bird or somethin’, Loss?” Breggs asked lowly.


         “I know what I...” a flash of reddish orange and Arch was sprayed wetly across his face.  It took him half a second to realize Lossman’s head had suddenly gone missing above the jaw.


         “Cover, take cover!”  Arch said, diving as best he could for the nearest tree.  “All teams, be aware, we need covering fire immediately!”  Wicks was the one to respond.


         “Lay down a suppressing fire!  Keep...” the radio cut out and Breggs and Marl cursed somewhere behind him.  In the corners of his eyes Arch kept seeing that reddish orange flash taking SEALS after SEALS and suddenly remembered Burlai warning him of hell erupting around them.  He grit his teeth.


         “MOVE UP!” he yelled, even though the radio was still on.


         “You fucking crazy?!” someone called through the static and he scowled.


         “Everyone, suppressing fire!  Keep moving!” he called and stood up, not waiting to see if anybody responded.  The plasma kept flashing around him, just at the sides of his vision.  It wasn’t overly difficult making out the sniper’s position and he did his best to spray the area with as much ammunition as he could.  Only the suppressing fire wasn’t suppressing anything.


         Shots kept flashing out every few seconds, one after another.  Some must have missed for there were certainly more than 16 fired, but with every one which went past he felt his blood boil all the more.


         Around him his men began returning fire.  Drops of red falling toward whoever was killing them.  But even he, in all the confusion and excitement, could see the amount of return fire dwindling.


         Finally, after a forever waiting, the woods broke and once again he laid eyes on the sleek grey ship and it’s many weapons.  Only this time those weapons were aimed at him.


         “COVER!!!” he screamed even as the ship’s turrets opened fire, plasma made for tearing apart heavy armor now trying to tear apart simple flesh and bone.  Trees exploded around him as he moved for cover and he saw a mere ten meters away a figure pounded straight through the chest with one of the intense red beams, blowing an enormous hole through him and spinning him away only to be hit twice more, all but disintegrating his torso.  “GRENADES!!!” he called again, fumbling for one of his own.  He threw one, reached for another and saw only a few others launch past the devastated treeline.


         ‘There’s no fucking way,’ he thought, hearing the distant thuds of explosions only barely over the repeating blasts of the many turrets.  The tree he was under took a shot, splintering burning wood harshly down over him and he felt a pain in his cheek.


         “FALL BACK!!!  FALL BACK!!!” he finally yelled and he began sprinting for his life.  Even as he stood up he watched Marl’s leg blow clear away, heard him grunt, too shocked to scream.  Breggs was there to pick him up and then the young officer was past them, running for dear life as the forest continued exploding around him.


         It wasn’t until he’d made it back to the line of ships in which Arch finally stopped, collapsing to his knees in exhaustion.  Looking behind him he saw Breggs wasn’t far behind, his weapon disposed of and Marl still over his shoulders, though he seemed more bloody than he should have been.


         “SEALS, report in,” he said as the support gunner laid the Saugin down only to see the shark man had take another hit across his shoulders while they’d been running and was far gone.  “SEALS, is there anybody left out there?”  He clicked a button on the scouter, displaying the team’s health.  Only it was just he and Breggs.


         ‘It’s gotta be the static,’ he though as he continued trying to reach the other 14 men.  No response.  Nobody came running through the trees after them.


         “They’re gone L.T.,” Breggs said grimly.  Arch looked at him, saw his usually tanned skin was white as a sheet.  Arch felt a deep chill in himself as he glanced back at the forest.


         “Get on the horn with Top.  Tell them to send everyone.”


         “Yes sir,” the gunner said, running to his ship while Arch was left with the corpse of his teammate, scanning the forest and wondering how it was possible to win.


-------------------------


         It was a rout.  Little pansies trying to play soldier.  It was difficult to see much through the smoke, snow and wood chips even with her pinpoint vision, but the HUD in her mask provided a good picture of the survivors.  Smiling widely as she set the rifle down, Ruki urged the claws on her fingers to extend.


         She’d barely taken a step forward when Kenshi’s voice rasped, “Stop.”  The pirate turned to him, frowning.


         “This isn’t the time to be merciful, Kenshi.”  She frowned wider as she looked upon him.  Although she couldn’t see his face his slouched posture told the pirate he wasn’t happy.  Man hadn’t fired a single shot and he was already feeling guilty.  Wonderful.


         “Don’t waste your energy.  Only two of them.  MMC brass can be stupid, but even they won’t recycle two SEALS who just lost their team.”  She scowled.


         “They could.”  He snapped his head up to her and Ruki could imagine the harsh look upon his face.


         “You want to survive then conserve yourself where you can.  Understand?  I don’t want you falling asleep watching my ass,” he said.  Ruki felt herself grin, though there was no humor in it.


         “You’re making excuses.  You just don’t have what it takes to kill them.”  He looked at her for a long moment then turned toward the small, armored terminal he’d hidden behind the thick metallic sheets of cover they’d spread in a staggered line across their defenses.


         Typing a few keys he said, “No, this is me not killing anyone.  The turrets are off.  Now you have to do all the work.  That the way you like it?”  Scowling, she stepped toward him, her claws raising on either side of her.  She made all of three steps before Kenshi leveled what looked like a hand-held gatling at her.  Just like that she stopped in her tracks, eyeing the foreign weapon.


         “You can’t fuck around with this, Kenshi.  I need you ruthless for once in your life.”  He grunted his annoyance and rested the weapon over his shoulder.


         “I do what needs to be done.  No more, no less.  If you suddenly think I don’t have judgement in a fight then go after them.  Tire yourself over them.”  He glanced toward the woods.  “Do it.”


         Ruki frowned, but said nothing.  A dozen past encounters with Kenshi were quickly recalled.  Close calls.  Some closer than she’d otherwise known.  No, Kenshi knew the ins and outs of combat, sure enough.  And he was right in conserving energy.  But even so, leaving two of the MMC’s best alive could end up biting them in the ass.


         ‘Then again the explosives will probably take care of them,’ she thought.  Shrugging, she picked up the sniper rifle once more and took flight.


         “I’m taking position,” she said, looking over the ridges and cliffs of the mountainside.  “Don’t get yourself killed in the meantime.”


         “Remember, look for snipers and explosives.  Any one of our defenses gets taken down and we’re looking at a much tougher fight.  And call your shots before taking them.  I don’t want to reveal all our cards so soon.”  That made her grin just a bit.


         If there was one thing he had it was patience.  Mark of a soldier, alright.  Somehow she could see the two of them making a rather...formidable team.


-------------------------


         “God.”  Terrace didn’t know who said it, but he knew everyone in the room was certainly thinking it.  Hell, he was.


         ‘Able to watch and do nothing.’  He scowled.  If he had the guns operational at that moment the commander would be bombarding the area to submission.  Too well fortified and he knew all too well the pair hadn’t come close to showing all their cards.  ‘Yet it was a fucking massacre.’


         More than ever he had doubts about sending the marines down.  Perhaps he should call in a fleet of bombers, level the entire mountain...and kill the emperor’s daughter alongside the dangerous pair.


         “Sir, we’re getting a request in,” a bridge officer said, breaking the deadly silence of the room.  “The SEALS want us to send aid immediately.”


         “How many?” Terrace asked.  The man took a moment to relay the question and came back with a depressing answer.


         “Two.”


         ‘Two more than I thought there were a minute ago,’ he tried to comfort himself.  Then he scowled further.  “Send word to the marines.  I want an advance party to clear the LZ before we send in anybody else.”  He turned back to the overhead view of the ship, frowning at the sight of it.


         “Admiral Baragossa, I want a meeting with the captains.  Send any details we might need to the briefing room.  Bring Colonel Horvath along.  He will not be joining the advance party.”


         “Yes sir,” the older man said dutifully before Terrace walked out.


-------------------------


         It felt reminiscent of standing in a cemetery.  16 empty ships, 14 of which were husks for all they were worth.  It was a strange feeling.  Arch half expected when he took off his team would do so with him, bitching over the radio about this or that while Wicks scolded them to cut the chatter.


         Not this time, though.


         Cold seemed to run down his back at the thought, but Arch tried to concentrate on the forest.  A few turrets had been set up - normally considered beastly as all hell, but now they seemed like scant defenses.  As did only two soldiers keeping watch in the middle of a forest clearing.


         The sky above them roared and the pair looked up.  Dropships, eight of them.  They’d hold a good 20 men apiece.


         “‘bout fucking time, though I think I’d rather they just send in the artillery,” Breggs said, watching the sky and smiling despite everything.


         “Keep your eyes on the woods,” Arch said, though he himself found it difficult to look away.  Then there was an explosion and he snapped his eyes back up.


         One of the dropships was plummeting, smoke and fire trailing from it’s engines.  And even as he watched a barely visible tracer shot through the sky toward a second dropship, slamming into the engines and sending the ship careening then plummeting, a veritable twin of it’s partner.  The remaining six went to combat maneuvers, but it didn’t keep one last rocket from hitting it’s mark, sending the vehicle and 21 passengers skimming trees before an explosion broke out among them.


         The remaining ships came in low, out of sight from the two SEALS until they pulled into the clearing.  They set down harder than they should have, the pilots impatient to set down as if they’d be safe grounded.  The ships were bulky and dark green, a simple design of cockpit, stubby wings and engines attaches to a large, squared cargo area which opened immediately upon landing, pouring out a score shaky troops apiece, 100 in total.


         ‘And 60 gone, plus pilots.’


         Marines spread out immediately in all directions, setting something of a perimeter, but it was a disorganized mess.  Whatever arrival plans they had received, there was nobody directing them now.  The squads were to scrambled, cutting into one another’s territory.  One wide space to the north wasn’t even covered.  Bad news.


         ‘Fucking hell.  The CO wasn’t just shot down.  The second in command at least must’ve gone with him.’  As if to confirm this a group from the five surviving squads separated while the rest cleared the area around them, coming to huddle together in the middle of the clearing.  ‘Like a big red fucking bullseye.’


         “What in the fuck do they think they’re doing?” Breggs said, standing dumbfounded.  Arch ground his teeth and stepped toward the men.


         “The hell is going on around here?” Arch started, letting his distaste show clear as day.  “This is a combat...”  His eyes widened as, for the second time that day, a man’s head exploded right in front of him.  Only this time the person behind him was in line with the shot as well.


         “GET DOWN!!!” someone screamed as one unlucky, headless bastard collapsed to the dirt, the officer right behind him looking in shock at the hole in his chest as he too fell.  Leaderless, the marines fell apart.


         ‘Like headless chickens,’ Arch thought while he took cover in the foliage, watching intense plasma rain down into the fleeing squad leaders.  ‘They have a fucking sniper on a peak,’ he realized, trying to catch a glimpse at where the shots were coming from.  A hand slapped on his shoulder and the lieutenant found Breggs beside him, looking more than a little shaken, but otherwise none the worse for wear.


         “Gotta take charge, L.T., before these dumb shits kill themselves,” the large Terran said.  They looked toward the marines, quickly being blown away one after another by what must’ve been an ungodly large sniper rifle.  He grit his teeth.  Breggs had it right, fucking Top.  He opened the line.


         “Marines, into the woods!  Get your asses under cover!  Move!” he screamed into the radio.  As if it wasn’t clear enough.  The shots stalled and finally stopped when the last of the soldiers found cover and Arch looked over the clearing.  He frowned, seeing the five corpses laying across the center of the clearing.


         “Natural selection just kicked our ass,” Breggs said beside his shoulder before leaning back into a tree.  “The fuck do we do now, L.T.?”


         “Find our sniper and kill them.”  He looked through the pines and branches, trying to catch any sign of life on the high cliffs of the mountainside.  Nothing.  Much too distant to find even a trace.  He opened the radio line again.  “Snipers, report in.”  A few seconds later and no response.  “Snipers, report in,” he said again, more demanding.


         “Our boy’s down,” a low voice replied.


         A few seconds later another said, “Our’s too.  Fuck.”  Three more voices chimed in with the bad news and that’s when the complaints started.


         “The hell man?  Top couldn’t have dropped us somewhere in the clear?”


         “That’s great.  That’s just fuckin’ great.  Now what the fuck are we supposed to do?  We’re in some real perty shit now, man.”


         “What the fuck are we up against?  I didn’t sign on for someone to take potshots at my ass.”


         “They knew we were comin’, man.  What the hell?”


         “That’s it, man.  Game over, man.  Game over!”


         Little by little the lieutenant felt his nerves tense until he couldn’t hold it back any longer.  Near cross-eyed in annoyance he snapped, “Marines, cut the chatter!  Now!”  And just like that they fell silent.  “Now, anyone get a bead on the enemy?”  The answer was not a pleasant one.


         “L.T....” Breggs said and Arch turned to see the large SEALS wide-eyed and looking deep into the woods.  Following his look it took Arch a second to see what the Terran saw.  Then an orangish red glow emerged from a slender hand and he saw the black silhouette clear as day.


         Once more hell fell down around Lt. Arch Keverall.


-------------------------


         “We should bomb them and be done with it.”  Terrace did not recall the man’s name, though remembered him to be a vocal member of the last meeting.  He’d have to ask Baragossa about the balding Midollonian later.


         “We can not bomb the second princess.  Our focus should be on finding other means to end this, not bombing innocents, Crowly,” Keroune replied loudly.  Crowly.  So that was it.


         “I agree,” Colonel Horvath said, standing tall beside Terrace and puffing out his chest.  The man believed he was a super hero.  Wonderful.  “My men are more than capable of removing two cornered criminals.”  The commander rubbed his temples.  A super hero who hadn’t been paying attention.


         “What is it you plan on doing then?” Crowly asked with a sneer.  Horvath used a laser to highlight points on the map.


         “We land in the clearing, cargo and troops dustings and hit them at night.  Two sniper teams will take a lay of the land and provide fire support.  I will then separate four artillery teams to carefully take out the defenses while the rest provide covering fire.  In a matter of minutes we should have only your criminals to deal with, if they haven’t been taken care of already.”


         “And what of reports of defenses set within the forest itself?” Fillers spoke up.


         “The SEALS checked the area thoroughly and found nothing.  I’m not so arrogant as to think that they are incapable of doing their job...”


         “Even though they’ve been a resounding failure thus far,” Crowly interrupted.


         “My scouts will be checking the area themselves.  If they find something then it will be dealt with.  But I will not pussyfoot over something which doesn’t exist.”


         “Kenshi Tamaki does not use tactics in vain, Colonel,” Terrace said.  “You can rest assured there is something in those woods.”


         “With all due respect, Commander, I will believe it when I see it.”  Terrace looked up to Baragossa, at a loss for words and the admiral shrugged in response.


         “Very well.  Horvath, gather your troops and get planetside,” the commander said.  Horvath brought his fist to his heart in salute and walked out of the room.


         “Tell us, Commander, when will you authorize bombing?” Crowly asked, not hiding his disdain.


         For a long moment Terrace thought on that.  Looking over the map and the defenses Tamaki had set up, he knew Horvath would fail.  He also knew there was nothing he could do to help the man aside from outright destroying Tamaki’s ship.  But perhaps...perhaps the gung-ho Colonel could wear Tamaki down.  But was the second princess worth the lives?


         “I will authorize bombing when there is no other viable choice left to us,” Terrace said grimly and more than a few men at the table frowned.  “Now, have any of you any further suggestions?”  No answer came, much to his annoyance.  The combined captains were proving as useless in new strategy as Rykov and Card.  This meeting was over.


-------------------------


         These guys were bad.  Really bad.  Hilariously bad.  Ruki had to admire how bad they were as she picked them off one after another.


         ‘And there’ll be more where these guys came from,’ she thought, grinning widely as she reloaded her rifle.  Ally had done her good with the thing.  It was as long as she was tall and kicked like a mule, but the shots tore well and it had a hefty clip.  ‘Good times.’


         When she looked back through the scope the soldier boys had already chickened out and hid away.  The merc launched a few more shots into the trees before deciding the real fun of this had ended and set the rifle down.


         Admittedly, Ruki had been more than a little annoyed when Kenshi started shooting down the dropships.  What fun would there be if there was nobody left to play with?  Of course when she brought up concerns over the matter he’d merely grunted and fired again.  At least he’d proven willing to fight.  Even better, he’d gotten in a couple lucky shots and it was fun to watch the MMC’s best trying to make due without leadership.  And failing.


         “I’m gonna finish them off,” Ruki announced happily over the radio as she dove off the cliff.


         “Don’t waste your time,” was the rough reply.  The mercenary pouted.


         “What, you can kill them now but I can’t?”


         “Not when it’s wasted effort.”


         Rolling her eyes, Ruki said a quick, “Whatever,” before shutting the radio off and pulling out of her dive to skim the treetops.  That had her smiling again.  Spinning, her arms wide, she laughed.  Flying was rather fun, she decided.  Then she spotted the clearing and dropped, hitting the ground in a crouch and looking around.


         ‘There’s a lot of them,’ she found with a glance.  70,80, 90...  Maybe more.  Was difficult to tell in such a large space with foliage and ships blocking the way.  Her ears picked up scattered mumbling and complaining.  Nothing of importance, but her lips quirked up as she recognized just how scared these boys were.  ‘Seems I’ve made an impression.’


         Standing up, she started walking, baring her teeth in a wicked smile as she felt a warmth in the palm of her hand grow a bare second before she unleashed a blast of concentrated energy into a particularly large group of soldiers.  Then came her specialty: chaos.


         Gunfire erupted into a mess of trajectories and the pirate jumped and spun away, flying through the trees and looking down upon her playmates.  The idiots were firing on anything which moved, including one another.  Scared, stupid sons of bitches.


         Cackling, Ruki felt her hands warm up as she launched energy again and again into the forest.  Snow melted, trees burned, craters formed and poor, worthless MMC fried.


         “They’re in the trees!  Concentrate fire in the trees!” someone yelled and Ruki looked on in a feral smile at the speaker.  So not all leadership was gone.  She launched a beam of energy at the man and watched people scatter and fly at the explosion.


         Once more falling to the ground, Ruki calmly stepped toward her latest crater while gunfire hit the trees all around her.  She had to smile at the figure half buried in the snow, staring at her, too scared or too tired to move.  The pirate cocked her head.


         “You’re that little asshole Kenshi kept me from killing before.”  He didn’t offer a reply.  “Shall we continue then?”  She held up her fingers even as they elongated.  The man said nothing.  Only stared.


         “BIIIIIIITCH!!!”  The pirate turned at the yell just in time for the butt of a gun to slam into her face.  Scowling at the large figure standing before her, Ruki launched herself at the man even as he began firing point blank into her chest.  Pain erupted, but that didn’t keep her fingers from burying into his armor and tearing the fucker apart.  Slash after slash, she kept at it until the man was unrecognizable and only then did she notice the eagle, gun and anchor patch on his sleeve.  Cocking her head in realization, she looked to the other man.  Only now he had his pistol to her head.


         “Fuck you,” he said, pulling the trigger.


         ‘Getting shot in the head still burns like a mother,’ Ruki thought, her head bouncing back as she was thrown to the snow.  It took her a moment to realize that the HUD was skewed and not her vision.  The fucker had actually damaged her suit!


         She raised a hand and felt the energy gather, but the asshole moved out of the way.  The pirate tried to follow him, but her vision was mixed static and darkness and her hearing wasn’t much better.


         “DAMMIT!!!” she screamed, standing and launching blasts around her.  Somewhere in the background she could hear the dull thuds of the explosions, see faint glowing, but she couldn’t tell for the life of her where it was going.  Plasma started littering her body and she fell to her knees in agony.  “FUCK!!!  FUCK!!!  FUCK!!!” she yelled and tried to phase into the ground.  And for the second time felt the pure, agonizing torture of plasma impacting her semi-materialized form.  Her head swam.  She didn’t know what was up or what was down, only that these people were killing her.  She kicked and squirmed, moving any which way in a futile hope it might somehow allow her to survive, but she was blind, deaf and pain was the only thing she felt.


         After a minute or so she felt the pain ebb and she relaxed in confusion.  Her hearing came first and with it the rapid sound of a powerful blaster firing alongside plasma weapons farther away.  The pain slowly waned to where she could feel herself being dragged in the snow, a hand on her ankle.  Finally her HUD kicked back in and Ruki found herself looking up to Kenshi’s dark grey armor, the strange, large machine gun he carried spraying the forest behind him so fast even she couldn’t keep up with the six rotating barrels while he ran between trees, attempting to dodge return fire.


         Ruki lay her head back down, relaxing as her armor and body healed and he dragged her back to camp.  Soon enough she recognized the dark grey hull of his ship and he left her behind cover while he checked the defenses, but it seemed the MMC had pulled up short.  Her guess, the damn SEALS had survived and warned them.


         Eventually Kenshi came back and sat himself against the barrier beside her, saying nothing.  Ruki turned her head and looked at him, wishing she could make out his features at that moment.  Finally she lifted her hand and rubbed the spot on the side of her head she’d been shot.


         “Thanks,” she said after a moment.  Two broad shoulders moved up and down in a shrug.  She pouted.  “Aw, you angry with me now?”


         “Don’t give a damn.”  Ruki narrowed her eyes at the former soldier.


         “What’s that supposed to mean?”


         “Means you’re gonna do your thing like it or not.  I can either adjust to it or die with you.”  Ruki set her head back down.  The sun was fading fast.  They’d try to hit them at night.  “Your stunt will have made them more desperate.  Might force their hand.”


         “I’ll set up the AA,” Ruki replied, standing.


         “Hurry up.  Radar shows the main force is comin’.”


-------------------------


         “This guy goes to the doc, says he’s got a problem with his dick.  Doc says, “Alright, fill up this jar with your jizz and give it to me after the weekend.”  So the guy goes home with the jar.  Comes back a couple days later and it’s still empty...”


         “Ah, I heard this one already.”


         “Fuck off, man.  I haven’t.


         “Yeah, shut it.”


         “...so yeah.  Comes back with an empty jar and the doc says, why didn’t you fill the jar up?”  And the guy goes, “I just couldn’t do it.  I tried my right hand, wouldn’t work.  I tried my left hand, wouldn’t work.  Got my wife over.  She tried her right hand, her left hand, hell she even tried her mouth, couldn’t do it.  So we went over to the neighbor and she tried her right hand and left hand and mouth.  Even worked with my wife on it.  We just can’t get me off.”  Bueller sat there grinning like a monkey on drugs to the rest of the marines who stared back silently.


         “I don’t get it,” Rossan said.


         “That’s because he fucking told it wrong,” Lueg replied, shaking his head.  “They can’t open the jar, you fuckhead, not get him off.”  Bueller blinked, his grin slowly fading.


         “I like my way better though.”


         “Do you boys think of anything but sex?” Angel said and the marines all grinned at her.  Pvt. “Angel” Koralla was well nicknamed being both a woman of exotic beauty and a Comanton complete with a thick lining of white feathers running from her scalp down her back.  “Fuck off, don’t look at me like that,” she said, adjusting her thin slab of armor uncomfortably.


         “I got a good one,” Gruodon said and everyone hushed up.  The grey old sergeant never talked except to bitch them out or bark an order.  “A few thousand MMC marines are on dropships waiting to land.  Their mission?  Kill two people holed up in some mountain forest.”  He looked at them all, a bare hint of anger the only sign of emotion on him.  Nobody said a word.


         “What?” the sarge asked.  “I thought it was rather funny myself.”


         “Stow it Gruodon,” Lt. Wilks said.  As long as Lueg had known him, Wilks had always let them have their fun as long as it didn’t get in the way with their job, but their sarge questioning their mission was a step too far.


         “Listen up, grunts,” Wilks said, his voice anything but tough and his face so smooth a baby might be jealous, though the years had shown them he was a tough enough squad commander under fire.  “We all know we were the second option in this job.  That means the SEALS failed.  Do not give me bullshit on this or I will have your ass on a spike.  You hear me?”


         “Yes sir, Lt. Wilks,” the 19 other soldiers stowed in the dropship said as one.


         The intercom buzzed on and a deep, accented voice said, “Hold onto your seat, gents.  We have incoming fire.”  No sooner had the pilot said it than a dozen beams of red split into their little nest and smoke filled the room.


         Lueg heard someone yelling from the cockpit and Wilks screamed, “Emergency positions!  Move it!”  Easier said than done.  They could all feel the ship dropping, their stomachs in their throats.  They all covered their heads, white-knuckled, braced for impact and scared shitless as in seconds a walk in the park turned into what they all knew was probably their last moments.


         The ship shuttered in multiple impacts and they could all hear the scraping metal.  The damn box was shaking so hard it was difficult for Lueg to make out his knees, much less the rest of the dropship.  As if to mock them, the lights shut off, being replaced almost immediately by the red emergency lights.  Someone screamed curses, others just screamed and then there was an impact, so hard it slammed his head into his knees and knocked the wind out of him.


         Perhaps he’d passed out or perhaps the crash had simply knocked him out of his senses, but Lueg found himself opening his eyes in pain, every muscle in him stiff.  He tested himself for a moment, looked down his body.  Nothing seemed broken...


         ‘What a crash,’ he thought, pushing a slender hand through his brown mop.  Slowly, carefully he stood, not entirely trusting his legs to hold his weight.  The emergency lights were still on, though a sliver of natural light came from the rear hatch, hanging askew.  Looking around, the Frentan cringed.  The three men to his right had been crushed by an overhead safety support.  His left didn’t look much better.  Some of the marines were groaning as they woke, but another half were obviously not waking up again anytime soon.


         The sight of Wilks had him cringing even further.  His lieutenant of the past three years hadn’t been strapped in properly and must’ve been bouncing around during the crash.  He looked more pretzel now than man.


         “Get your gear, Private.”  Spinning, Lueg came face-to-face with an impassive Gruodon, a newly lit cigarette hanging between his thin lips and an assault rifle held loosely in his arms.


         ‘This guy could be nuked and still come out fresh as a daisy,’ Lueg thought.  “Yes sir,” he said, his voice failing him a bit as he gathered up one of the helmets and rifles strewn carelessly on the floor.


         “On your feet, soldiers,” Gruodon barked, walking past him.  “Get your gear, check for survivors.  Angel, check our shit-brained pilot.”  The paler-than-normal woman nodded and climbed up the passage leading to the cockpit.  She returned quick enough, somehow even more white.


         Gruodon, thin and aging as he was, laid one solid kick against the hatch and stepped into the snowy forest outside, rifle readied at his shoulder.  And there Lueg got his first good look at the planet.


         It was coming close to dead night with snow so thick it’d come at least to the ankles and probably the knees in trickier spots.  The woods were thick.  Easy to hide in.  Be great if Top’d spend a couple bucks extra and let them have their own scouters.  Cheap fucks.


         The final count wasn’t good.  Lueg, Gruodon, Angel, Bueller, Tavish, Penny and Largo were well enough to walk, though Tavish had a badly broken arm.  Bueller and Penny were tasked with carrying Rossan, who looked to have a plethora of internal injuries and a concussion to boot.  Margo had looked well enough, but that was after a cut to his leg ended up bleeding him out and Fletch had been so fucked up all they could do was pump him full of morphine and look away.  Worse yet, the ship’s radio and the company’s portable radio had both been destroyed.  They were on their own for the time being.


         As set as they could be, Gruodon wordlessly waved them forward and the group began limping north toward what they hoped would be allies.


-------------------------


         He heard Ruki whistle over the radio and was inclined to agree with her assessment.  What the hell?


         “How many of them did you set up?” he asked.


         “Three.”


         “How many more do we have?”


         “Five.”


         ‘No fucking way,’ he thought, looking disbelievingly at the radar.  Well over a hundred dropships had come in, scraping trees so as not to meet the same fate as the last group.  But the anti-air guns Ruki’d set up had chewed them up, leveling a solid quarter of the group, adding another quarter when they’d dusted off to return to orbit or wherever the MMC was supplying troops from.


         “Test successful, I guess,” he said, his mouth quirking down a bit.  That’d be a lot of dead men.


         “No shit.  This keeps up and we might not be doing much work after all.”


         “Don’t get lazy.  They take down any of our defenses and we’ll be looking at a lot more work.”  He could almost see the pirate rolling her eyes.


         “Yeah yeah.  Don’t pop a vessel.”


         ‘I need a fucking cigar.  Relax a bit,’ Kenshi thought.  ‘When this is over I’m gonna chain smoke ‘til I get lip cancer.’


         Putting his fantasy aside, the former soldier checked his motion tracker and radar displays.  The anti air would’ve done little more than thin their numbers and without armor it was too early to blow the explosives.  Still, there were a lot of soldiers out there now.


         Kenshi looked to the darkened night sky, the stars and the two visible moons - one a pale white, the other a deep red - casting light down onto the snow-covered mountain range.  ‘Fuck cigars.  I’m gonna sleep after this.’  He thought on it a moment.  ‘Or smoke and sleep.  I like that.’


-------------------------


         “Movement!  I’ve got movement!”


         “Hold your fire!” Gruodon barked into the trees ahead.  Everybody paused behind him.  Even Rossan’s ragged breathing seemed to silence.


         Then, “Identify yourself.”


         “Sgt. Gruodon, Barker Company.”  A lithe figure shouldering heavy armor stepped out of the trees, holding itself in an air which screamed officer.  Two guards came with it and Lueg made sure to follow their every step with his crosshairs - fuck if he was gonna take any chances from the small bit he’d seen.


         “You’re a little off target, Sergeant,” the figure said in an unmistakably female voice.  “Statrep.”


         “Our dropship was downed by incoming fire.  We have eight survivors, six combat ready and one who needs immediate medical attention.  Our CO is down.”


         The woman turned to one of her men and said, “Get the medics.  And tell Horvath we found him some more tenderized meat.”  As the man ran off she turned back to Gruodon.  “You’re a hardy bunch.  No other crashed companies have reported in yet here we have six of you fit for business.  Give me the location of your downed craft.”


         “Angel.”


         “‘bout 1620 meters south of this location, east by approximately 2 degrees,” the Comanton answered.  It never failed to impress Lueg how the hell she did that.  Musta been the Avariel in her or something.  If the officer was impressed, however, she failed to show it.


         “One more dropship to cross off the list for survivors,” she said.  “You all will be checked out by medical.  If you’re fit for combat you’ll be attached to my company.”  Though he didn’t show it, it took a lot for Lueg not to groan loudly.  Shooting his foot was sounding like a better idea by the second.  “I am Capt. Vance, Marilla Company.  Follow me.”


         Vance turned and walked back the way she came, her remaining guard following a few steps ahead of the eight survivors.  A few trees later and a large clearing opened up before them.


         ‘They’ve been busy,’ Lueg thought.  There were a few scattered ships - the modified CTG-45s the SEALS used and a couple dropships, but then there were large, dark green tents set up left and right.


         “The first group had a sniper problem,” Vance said.  “It’s recommended you keep yourself in cover as much as you can, though they’ve stopped for the time being.”  A squad of marines with a white stripe on their left arms ran up.  “You have eight men to attend to.  Take them to medical, give ‘em a once over and send anyone you can clear back to me.”


         “Yes ma’am,” the tallest of the group said gruffly.  Two of the medics relieved Bueller and Penny of Rossan and led the group to the largest of the tents near the center of the clearing.


         ‘It’s like a graveyard,’ Lueg thought as he walked.  No sounds, no movement.  Anybody outside was carefully hidden in the foliage outside the clearing.  Looked like old Horvath was taking no chances.  ‘Can’t blame him.’


         A moment later they reached the medical tent and, at least for a few minutes, the beat up team could relax.


-------------------------


         “Your military’s concern over a single being is confusing,” Nell said and, looking upon the chaos on his viewscreen, Preesly couldn’t help but agree.  Even so...


         “It is the emperor’s daughter.”


         “Our people would never throw away so many for any one of our people excepting the magnar himself.”  It was said more in curiosity than of disdain the former soldier noticed with some interest.


         “The MMC typically views any innocent too valuable to sacrifice under normal situations and nearly too valuable for more...advanced situations.”


         “Your military will suffer many losses.”  The Terran nodded.  “I cannot see them losing, however.”


         “No?”


         “A Sventh is attacked by a rat, the rat will die.  A Sventh is attacked by 2000 rats, the Sventh will die.”


         “And this “Sventh” is crippled,” Preesly added.


         “Just so.”


         The pair looked on, watching and waiting for the next sign of devastating action far below them.  Nell had the right of it, as bad as things looked for the MMC.  It was a simple issue of numbers.  First it would begin with a lucky shot.  Not much, but enough to take down one of the turrets or a shield.  They would keep pressing and little by little Tamaki’d be worn down until he was dead.


         ‘He won’t be captured,’ Preesly knew.  Nobody came this far and gave up.  Nobody.


-------------------------


         “I cannot fucking believe they cleared us,” Penny said.  The man’s voice was grating, more so when complaining loudly.  It made Lueg grind his teeth.  “A fucking dropship crash and I still gotta fight.  I didn’t sign up for this, man.”


         “What’d you sign up for then, margaritas, beaches and fat paychecks?” Lueg replied.


         “Kinda, yeah.”


         “Shoulda joined the army, boy,” Gruodon said and despite themselves the team grinned.  “Cut the chatter.  I don’t want the Colonel bitching me out on protocol ‘cause you kiddies can’t shut yer yaps.”  They did as ordered and a few seconds later the five of them were at the entrance to the command tent - Lueg, Gruodon, Bueller, Angel and Penny.  Largo apparently had been hiding a sprained ankle on them.  Supposedly.


         ‘I wonder if they get these things at the same place circuses do,’ Lueg thought absently as he looked around.  Plenty of room.  Enough to hold a good sized table with folding chairs set up around it, various maps scattered over it and a dim lantern casting a white glow over it all.  He recognized Horvath easily enough and Vance beside him.  A few other captains were scattered around muttering, most of whom he recognized in passing and little more.  The man on Horvath’s right he didn’t recognize, however.  A handsome enough man, Midollonian or Frentan by the looks of him, except for the fact that he looked like somebody’d chewed him up and spit him out a few times over.  Even as he watched the man took the dead cigarette in his lips, flicked it away and replaced it with another.  The motion drew his eye to the patch on his arm.


         ‘SEALS,’ Lueg realized.  ‘No wonder.  Wilks said they musta taken a beating.  This guy sure shows it.’


         “The hell are these mutts?” somebody said and Lueg found everyone looking at them.


         “They’re with me,” Vance said.  “The dropship crash survivors.”  Horvath clucked his tongue, looking them over.


         “You boys must have had a padded landing.  Official report from Top is nobody else made it out.”


         “I say we’re thicker skinned,” Gruodon said.


         “Speaking without leave, soldier?” Vance snapped and the sergeant tensed stiff as a board.  Horvath frowned, looking the old soldier over.


         “You’re from Wilks’ squad, aren’t you.  I’ve heard of you.  Vance, I expect you to hold this old dog in line better than he did.”


         “Yes sir.”


         Horvath looked over his subordinates and said, “Alright, you have your orders.  Brief your men and suit up.  I want these assholes dead in an hour.”


         Vance looked at her newest recruits, said, “Follow me,” and walked out of the tent, the five bruised marines doing as ordered.


         ‘Whatever sniper problem they had, they’ve long taken care of it,’ Lueg thought, looking back at the exiting officers.  They were prime targets right now, ripe for the picking.


         “The SEALS in there is the only survivor of the advance group,” Vance said almost in boredom as she walked.  “By his account we think we injured Ruki pretty badly, though judging by rumors of her as well as some of the other...elements to his story we don’t know what to make of that.”  She opened a tent flap and entered and almost immediately 40 men and women were standing at attention.


         “Get comfortable, gents.  I don’t want you missing details here.”  The captain glanced back toward the five.  “What, are you waiting for an invitation?  Get your asses in here.”


         As they all got comfortable a few lit up cigarettes the captain began.  And through it all the bad feeling in Lueg’s stomach grew worse and worse.


-------------------------


         A blip sounded and Kenshi opened his eyes.  Glancing at the tracker showed what he’d been expecting for the better part of an hour now.


         “They’re 30 minutes late,” Ruki said gleefully.  Looking over he saw her standing already, scanning the forest for any sign of life.  “You owe me $50.”


         “They say the worst part of war is waiting.  Somehow I think you disagree.”


         “Oh no, I agree.  It’s boring.”


         “True that.”  The large Terran took a long look at the small, armored terminal he’d set up.  It was like clockwork.  Just like the SEALS had tried only slower and at a much larger scale.


         “Remember, keep your eyes out for explosives,” Kenshi said.  That’d be easier said than done.  Blips showed thousands of soldiers heading their way and all of them were at least carrying grenades and each company would have at least one person with an RPG or blast cannon.


         “I shoulda bet you on the mortar thing too.”  And then there was that.  Mortars would be one of the few real heavy problems.  The accuracy those sons of bitches could achieve over long distances could devastate their defenses.  Yet the MMC seemed reluctant to use them.


         ‘Must be because the ship is so foreign to them.’  To Ruki he said, “Just wait.  It’ll be one of the first things they turn to once they start getting really desperate.”  Shrugging, she began walking toward the western flank.


         “They’re easy enough to avoid.  Now, you gonna actually stand and fight this time?”  Kenshi ignored her, checking the sights on his rifle one last time.


         “Don’t speed out too fast.  I can’t spare the time to babysit you again.”


         He heard the pirate growl, saw her flip him off out of the corner of his eye and say, “You are going to owe me so much when this is through.”


         Catching a bit of movement on his HUD, he replied, “I thought the action was payment enough.”


         “Don’t pull some ‘journey is the reward’ shit with me.  I expect this partnership to last on quite a few future jobs as well as sex when and where I want it.”  He rolled his eyes then looked through the scope.


         “Slut.”


         “So?”


         He fired.


-------------------------


         The point man was nobody Lueg recognized, but when the man held up his hand to stop them he wasn’t about to complain much.  Of course since the adrenaline of crashing in a dropship which had eliminated three fourths of his original team had passed he was freezing his ass off with his legs buried mid-calf in the snow and the night air freezing his lungs and stopping only made everything feel colder.  Even so, better cold than burning in plasma.


         Vance stepped forward in a crouch, looking over the point man’s shoulder.  They spoke in hushed tones and he pointed something out Lueg couldn’t see through the thick trees.  Then Vance turned, frowning, and reclaimed her place in the procession, five back.  Just behind Lueg and two behind Gruodon.  The sergeant glanced back in her passing, frowning as well.


         Waving them forward, the point man continued on, slower than before.  After a moment the Frentan saw what he must have seen.  Burns in trees and melted snow where plasma had torn the area apart.  They were getting close.


         As they continued up more was revealed.  Stray branches blasted off of firs.  Ice where hours before there had been scorched earth.  A hint of metal far off between the trees, perhaps a bit under 100 meters.  And finally, a body.


         Whoever he was, he’d been running toward the target when something impacted his shoulder hard enough to tear the arm off.  Whether the shock or the blood loss killed him was unknown, only that he hadn’t made it far enough to run away.


         Continuing on they encountered a cluster of fallen trees where the plasma must have been especially focused.  Somebody was tangled in the branches, only a frost-covered arm showing from under the pile of wood.


         Finally the clearing opened up, so suddenly Lueg thought they were under attack for a moment.  And there was their target; a large, sleek grey ship with more teeth than he could count.  Immediately the point man stopped, waiting for orders.  This was to be a simultaneous attack.  Everyone needed to be in position.


         As if the enemy would wait that long.


         A flash of red went by way off to the right flank and, before the team even set themselves, the battle had begun.  Unseen turrets, loud powerful fuckers, hidden somewhere beyond the few remaining trees opened up, releasing a hail of plasma left and right.


         “MOVE UP!” Vance screamed, pushing him forward and the Frentan did as told, if reluctantly, running in a crouch beside Gruodon, just behind the point man and another unknown grunt.  A blast connected solidly with the second man in line, blowing his chest out and spraying Lueg and the sarge with charred remains, but Vance’s hand on his back kept him moving.


         “RPGS UP!  I WANT THESE TURRETS DOWN!  MOVE MOVE MOVE!”  The clearing opened up fully and finally Lueg got a clear picture.  Plasma was everywhere, going both directions.  Everything aimed at the ship was absorbed harmlessly and everything aimed toward the marines was tearing shit up.  Trees and people alike were exploding back.  2000 men and women being held at bay by three heavy turrets and two figures firing mixed weapons into the crowd.  “FIRE!  GIVE ‘EM HELL!”


         Suddenly Gruodon pulled him down and Lueg watched as a blast of plasma passed over his head.  He looked back, saw the scores of troops running up and a couple being blown back.  He saw a man hefting an RPG in both arms rush forward only to have a lance of plasma rip through both he and the weapon.


         “They’re going for the heavy weapons!” Gruodon yelled out over the blasts and Vance nodded.


         “GRENADES!” she screamed and Lueg fumbled at his side for his, scolding himself for taking so long to unhook one.  It must have been three seconds but it felt like minutes and by the time he looked back up the snow before him was exploding, deafening everything but a high-pitched ringing and taking the air from him.  He lay back, watched a few soldiers step up and pull their grenades only for another explosive to blow them back.  Then Gruodon was on top of him, pulling him back and covering him as two of the fallen grenades, still live, went off.


         The sarge looked over the blitzing troops and screamed something Lueg could barely hear.  The grunt read it on his lips more than heard it.  As if in slow motion, the usually inanimate sergeant’s lips formed, “RADIO!” and seconds later he was holding the two-way receiver in hand.


         Sounds of the battle slowly came back as Lueg looked around, observing the damage.  He saw Penny clutching his side, paler than usual, and Angel with her upper right half missing.  Then he caught sight of Vance beside him.  Gruodon must’ve dragged her with him.  She was alive, looking shocked and pale at her mangled legs, one gone, the other twisted and bloody with a charred splinter embedded into it.


         “We need the mortars!  This armor’s too thick for us!  Prepare to receive our signal!” Gruodon said faintly through the haze.  Then he looked down at his subordinate, dropped the radio and shoved a weapon into his chest.  “GET YOUR LASERS ON THOSE TURRETS!” he screamed for all the marines to hear.  Another explosion caused the old sarge to duck down, but he was back up again in a second like nothing had happened, sprinting for clearing and crouching in a cover of snow and downed branches and corpses.


         And Lueg, his mind blank, unable to process all that was happening, followed him.  They switched their lasers on.  Hundreds of them pointed at turrets, sending a signal two kilometers back toward the mortar teams.


-------------------------


         ‘It’s not slowing them down,’ Kenshi noted as he took cover behind a barricade and moved for a different position.  Popping his head up the HUD highlighted dozens of unhooked grenades within bright green squares.  He brought the grenade launcher up and fired once, twice, six times.  But then the magazine was dry and there were still grenades at hand.  ‘And they just keep pouring in.’


         The butchery was incredible.  Quicksilver was all but immune to the rifles and machine guns these guys were using and their grenades, while they kept he and Ruki moving, were far from designed with anti-armor in mind.  Yet for every man he took down two more took his place.


         “That’s it, come on!  Is that all ya got?!  More!”  Kenshi had to avoid looking over at the pirate as he replaced the magazine.  The taunting was endless.  If they were part of platoon it might be morale-boosting, but with just him to hear it all it was grating if anything.  At least she was sticking to the line.


         ‘And doing a damn good job holding it.’  She switched weapons on the fly, throwing beams of energy one second, spiking somebody with a rifle the next then pumping through grenade launcher ammunition like it was a machine gun if, by some chance, somebody was unlucky enough to skim her armor.  She’d even narrowed down and eliminated the sniper teams the marines had tried setting up on the very outskirts of the clearing using their motion trackers and the rifle she seemed so fond of.


         A grenade blast had Kenshi leaning forward in some semblance of cover, tiny bits of shrapnel pinging off his back.  Leaning back up he launched a few more grenades before taking cover and relocating once more.


         “Kenshi, something’s up,” Ruki announced over the radio, her voice somehow squeaking over the heavy blasters.


         “What’s up?” he asked, rechecking the ammo count for his grenade launcher.  No good.  First day and they were already midway through.


         “You tell me.  If I didn’t know better I’d say the were trying for an air strike.”  That had him curious.  No way they’d pushed the MMC that far that fast.  And even if they did the winds were so bad that planes couldn’t navigate a strike without infantry pointing them out.


         Popping his head over the armored barricade, he saw hundreds of men lined up with more joining them by he second.  The turrets still managed to eat somebody up every couple seconds, but then someone else was there to pull the injured/dead away and replace them.  And to do what?  Aim their weapons toward their defenses and not fire.


         Kenshi frowned and took a glance at his ship.  More specifically, the turrets - one beside the cockpit, the other two placed by the engine.  Hundreds of tiny red dots covered the weapons which meant a pinpoint strike.  Gunships would be eaten up by AA and the area was too convoluted with soldiers for a pinpoint strike from anything faster, excepting a smart missile which, again, would be eaten up by AA.  That left...


         “Ruki, mortars!”


         “I’m on it.”  He had to hand it to her.  The pirate adjusted fast.  No sooner had she heard him say it she knew exactly what needed to be done and was in the air, speeding over the tops of the tall trees for the clearing.


         ‘Can she cover two kilometers fast enough though?’  Hefting up the firestorm cannon, he resolved not to find out.  The former soldier lay flat on his back directly behind one of the taller barricades, the butt of his gun pressed firm into his shoulder.  Even as he finished preparing he saw the first of the shells clear the treetops.  Normally it’d be a bare speck, but the HUD lit it up like it was the most important thing in the universe.  And at that moment, to him, it was.


         The firestorm cannon ripped into the sky, lancing 25 stripes of red at the speck per second.  At the speed the mortar shell moved and it’s tiny size there was little any marksman could hope for in stopping it.  But with that much firepower being thrown a short step below instantly, the shell didn’t stand a chance.


         Exploding with a quick flash into the trees, it was reminiscent of the soldiers lining up on the other side of the clearing; it went down easy, but where one was blown two more replaced it.


         One after another after another, Kenshi shot the shells out of the sky, but there were too many.  The marines must have had four mortars set up at least.  If there was any saving grace, however, it was that they were staggering their fire, ever so slightly as it was.


         ‘It’s too much,’ Kenshi thought, nearly missing a shell before it was too late.  But that little bit of time was all the next shells needed.  One came through, impacting hard into the front turret.  It kept firing, but only Ally would know how many shots the thing could take.


         Then a grenade bounced over the barricade.


         ‘Fuck!’ Kenshi thought, kicking the iron ball away and scrambling as best he could.  He felt the dull thud of shrapnel, heard a quiet boom his helmet managed to block out to keep from deafening him then saw three more grenades spiral into view.


         All the while the mortar rounds blasted into the turrets over and over.


         “Ruki, hurry your ass off,” he ordered, jumping over the barricade and firing into the sky once more, continuing to blast shells away.  He’d set up the barricades in a staggered pattern to help limit the grenades and keep cover, but it was too much.  Too many to deal with in a stand-up fight.


         “Quit whining, I’m on my way,” the pirate scolded.  He felt a mild warmth as plasma blew into his chest which grew to a mild discomfort in a bare second.  Still he continued his fire, standing and walking in some attempt to ease the number of hits.


         ‘I’m fucked,’ he thought, wide-eyed as the shells and plasma kept coming in.  Only two of the turrets were firing back.  The marines knew the advantage was their’s now.


         His vision was suddenly blinded as a shot impacted directly with his HUD, the shaders unable to compensate for the sudden light and his sensors unable to handle the extreme heat.  Knowing he wasn’t about to hit anything blind, Kenshi rolled back over the barricade and started crawling, hoping to avoid any grenades heading his way.  A few dull explosions sounded off, but the blasters continued firing.  And there he was, helmet malfunctioning and ship being blown to bits


         ‘NOT YET!!!’ his mind screamed.  Tearing off his helmet, Kenshi popped back out of cover and fired into the crowd.  It didn’t do much, the marines having such large numbers and having found a hardness they’d probably never known during this fight, but it suppressed their fire enough for him to focus once more on the incoming shells.


         Only they were no longer incoming.


         The former SEALS grinned.  Putting the crosshairs to his eye, Kenshi unleashed hell into the soldiers.


         “C’mon!” he rasped out to them, losing himself to battle and letting the firestorm tear into soldier after soldier.  “Kill me!  Come and kill me you fucking twats!”  And they tried.  Pouring plasma at him, at the two remaining turrets.  But their fire was dwindling with their ammunition and numbers and with him relocating every few seconds plus the armor of his exosuit and Quicksilver it was a wasted fight.  And they knew it.


         “You gotta have more than that!  C’mon and fight!”


-------------------------


         “I’m still not getting a response from any of the sniper teams, sir.”


         “Keep trying.  There’s no way they managed to take all of them out.  The signal up there’s weak,” Horvath replied gruffly to his radio man.  Arch simply sat back and watched the exchange, puffing gently at his cigarette.


         ‘Yeah they did,’ he thought.  ‘I don’t know how, but they did.  One of the unknown traps they set up out there.’  He frowned, hearing the mortars launch another volley.  There also should have been no way that ship could have taken as many mortar shells as it must have by now, but there it was.


         “What the hell is going on out there?” Horvath muttered, hand running over his trim, salt and pepper hair.  “Get somebody out there to send in a decent report.  They can’t be jamming our lasers as well.”


         ‘Wouldn’t put it past them,’ the lieutenant thought cynically.  Another volley fired, immediately followed by an explosion and the SEALS was on his feet immediately, cigarette dropping to the tent floor.


         “The hell was that?” Horvath asked, but Arch was out of the tent before he could answer.  Like he really knew.  Outside the night was bright in flames.


         ‘The mortars!’ his mind alarmed, but before he could rush toward them in any hope of salvage another explosion sounded off, a nearby tent flaring up.  And the source...


         His eyes narrowed.  The lithe black figure, highlighted by the red moon.  The one who’d gotten Breggs, at the least.  The one who’d decimated the first marine landing.


         Rushing back into the tent, Arch ignored Horvath’s questions and protests, his mind only set on the enemy outside.  He grabbed his assault rifle, took a moment to switch it to anti-armor and was back outside within five seconds, scanning the sky for any signs of what he guessed was Ruki.


         Another explosion blew him off his feet and the SEALS went down hard, eyes wide, back burning and the breath forced from him.  Glancing back in pain he saw the command tent had joined the others in flames.


         ‘NO!’ his mind scream as his body tried to pull itself toward his fallen weapon.  But his injuries must have been worse than he knew and he could barely find the strength to drag himself, much less lift the weapon.


         “No...” he whispered, tears filling his vision as the figure appeared.  He heard her laugh, watched her blow away tent after tent, marine after marine and he found himself unable to do anything more than watch.


         The killer of Jamerson’s team and Breggs at least.  Arch kept dragging himself forward, tried to force the strength to take his weapon in hand, but it just wasn’t there.  Head swimming, vision darkening, the last thing the SEALS saw was the black figure, surrounded by fire, turn toward him.


-------------------------


         “KEEP POURING IT ON!!!” Gruodon screamed and the marines were happy to oblige.  They had the scales tipped their way Lueg knew.  Only two turrets, only one figure and he looked to be hurting.  But damn if he wasn’t fighting tooth and nail.


         “Where the fuck are the mortars?” someone said and for the first time Lueg realized the shelling had stopped.  Another line of blaster fire swept by and the grunts ducked behind cover, some unsuccessfully, but then they popped back up for more.


         Despite everything, despite the piled corpses, the smoking branches, Lueg smiled and unleashed his assault rifle on Tamaki.  The bastard was slippery, popping out to spray them only to duck back down and pop up again 20 feet away.  But eventually that lucky shot would come.  All they had to do was keep pouring in the plasma.


         Then his rifle clicked.


         ‘Shit,’ Lueg thought, reaching in for another magazine, but his fingers came up empty and the Frentan’s blood went cold.  Tamaki wasn’t just trying to kill them, he was trying to run them dry.


         “I’m out!” he called hoping somebody might have a spare mag, but even as he hoped a chorus went up with similar lines.


         “Check the bodies!” Gruodon said, still emptying his rifle into the ship.  Left and right marines began rooting through their former friend’s pockets, but the issue was still present.  They’d been worn down to a stub and, as much damage as had been done there were still three machine guns tearing through the ranks.


         The sarge knew it as well as anyone and, finally clicking empty he glanced around and scowled.  Lueg could read his thoughts all over his face: ‘FUCK.’  A moment’s indecision later and Gruodon called out, “FALL BACK!!!”  Everyone hesitated.  Decimated to half their number, nearly ammo-less, bloodied and beaten, every single man hesitated.  “GRAB THE WOUNDED AND FALL BACK!!!  GO GO GO!!!”


         That said, the weathered old sergeant was first to start running and, hesitant as they were, the marines followed.  First it was just Vance’s Marilla Company.  Then it was the next in line followed by the next until 1000 marines were hoofing it back to camp, defeated with heavy plasma following on their heels.


         When the fire finally stopped after 100 meters or so the marines slowed down, breathless, angry and freezing their asses off.  There was no conversation as they walked, only the occasional muttered curse or moan of a person missing a limb from the heavy blasters.


         ‘2000 marines against two and we lost.  We fucking lost.’  The thought repeated often in Lueg’s head and, he knew, the head of every man and woman walking back with them.  This was the ultimate shame.  ‘We’ll come back, ammo full, and lay waste to those fuckers.  Fuck the princess and fuck whatever Top’s after, they’re dead.’


         A strange bit of movement to his right caught Lueg’s eye and he turned.  Dark as it was, it was easy to make out.  Perhaps five meters away a bush disappeared around a waist-tall automated turret, it’s barrel leveling on the nearest man.


         “No,” Lueg said sadly as red flashed out and all around him hell opened up once again.  Left and right marines went down, instantly being decimated by the weapons, the survivors taking to a sprint back to base.


         Though not as powerful as the heavy turrets back at the ship, they were much more numerous.  A dozen at least, each perfectly lethal without the pure unnecessary power of a gunship’s anti vehicular blasters.


         Lueg didn’t know how he survived, only that he needed to keep running.  Plasma was all around him and marines left and right were going down.  Before his eyes a beam of burning red caught Gruodon in the leg, tripping him up and flooring him hard.  Lueg took him by the collar of his armor in passing and, with strength he’d never normally have, dragged him as the old sergeant cursed unintelligibly.


         ‘We’re almost back to base.  Just a few more steps, come on Lueg,’ he willed himself, huffing and puffing all the way.  His body was numb, but still he kept running, even as the plasma thinned out and stopped.  Then the clearing of the base opened up before him and the grunt dropped his sergeant into the snow.


         “The fuck’s the matter with you...” Gruodon cut himself off as he looked behind him.  “God almighty.”


         The base was bright with flames, equipment strewn and wrecked, the dropships and Ravens little more than rubble - all contrasted frighteningly with the bright white of the snow and the darkness of the night sky.  The question of where the mortar fire went was suddenly and horrifically answered as again Lueg’s eyes came upon hopeless chaos.  Dozens of marines - only dozens - stopped in their tracks and watched the burning.


         And then, with nothing more to do and nowhere more to go, Lueg fell into the snow, tears streaming down his cheeks.


-------------------------


         When Ruki arrived back she thought at first he’d died on her.  The ship was scorched and dented, one of the turrets misaligned, the snow on the defending side of the barricade blown every which way and Kenshi himself leaned against the hatch of the ship, helmet off, armor scorched and scarred and eyes closed peacefully.  Then she set down beside him and his eyes snapped open, hand grasping for the gatling resting over his lap.


         “Hey,” she said, stopping inches from him, mask pulling back.


         “Yo,” he rasped, even harsher than usual.


         “Managed to fight ‘em off, I see.”


         “Piece of cake,” he said, giving her the tiniest of smiles.


         ‘A true fighter,’ she couldn’t help but think.  ‘Single-handedly responsible for killing a thousand people in the span of an hour yet here he is smiling.’  Her responding smile was all the wider.  ‘I was wrong.  He is willing to stand and fight.  To be merciless to those who go against him.’  She felt the urge to kick him for making her wrong.


         “What happened to your helmet?” she asked after a moment.


         “HUD got scrambled.  Gotta check and see if it’s back online.”  He stood up and looked around, frowning now.  “They should be back to base.  I’ll blow the charges.”


         “Don’t bother.  The base is scraps.  Wait for the armor.”  He nodded.


         “Check the turret.  See if there’s anything to be done.  I’ll organize the weapons and ammo.  See what condition we’re in.”


         “Aye aye, Cap’n,” Ruki chirped, the mask pulling back over her face.


         It was only day one and she knew their defenses and ammo count wouldn’t look so hot when all was said and done, but still she had to smile a bit.  Such desperation yet here she was; alive and well with plenty of fight left in her and plenty of fight left to go.  And at her side was Kenshi, putting his life into her hands without second thought.  That knowledge was...heartwarming, strangely.


-------------------------


         “Enter,” Terrace said as soon as the knock came.  Normally it was only Rykov or Card who came near him without invite so he was mildly surprised to find Baragossa’s lean form step into the room, the door sliding shut behind him.


         “The marines are all but wiped out,” the admiral said simply in way of greeting.  That had Terrace’s eyebrows raising.  “112 alive, 78 injured, most critically, the rest dead.  Including Colonel Horvath.  The only officer we have left down there is a SEALS lieutenant who’s not much more than a daisy.  They are dangerously low on ammo, equipment and medical supplies.”


         “Enemy damages?”


         “Minimal.  We estimate minor equipment damages plus one heavy turret.  We have gotten a fix on the traps they set in the forest, however.  Turrets, somehow hidden within foliage.”


         “I’d ask how, but I suppose it doesn’t matter much at the moment.”


         “If I may speak freely, sir.”  Burlai frowned, knowing he probably wouldn’t like anything out of the old admiral’s mouth, but nodded anyway.  “Did you know this is how things would turn out?”


         “I suspected.”


         “Then why, sir, did you send them?”  It was easy to detect the hint of anger at the wasted lives.  Terrace had to keep from rubbing a hand over his face in stress.


         “I doubted they would break through.  However, I did not predict the losses would be as extreme as they were.  Neither did I predict that we’d do as little damage as we did.  Somehow I have even now underestimated Tamaki’s abilities.”


         “And Ruki’s,” Baragossa reminded him.  Terrace frowned but nodded in acquiescence.  “Sir, if I may, I think it may be time to search other solutions.”


         “I understand your concern, Admiral, but I cannot yet sign off on the death of the girl.”


         Baragossa looked around a moment, finally saying, “If this is about angering the emperor...”


         “It is not,” Terrace snapped then immediately calmed himself.  “Again, I understand your concerns.  However there are other avenues I would like to approach before I sign off on simply bombing them or some such.  Ones much less likely for such catastrophic casualties.”


         “Such as?”


         “I believe it’s time we organized our armor.  Get me Giznek on the line.  I want at least three new ships in, each with orbital guns.”