Kairo could imagine the scene. Officers and noncoms to the front, backed by rank after rank of legionnaires. And there, behind the crisp white kepis, the Trooper IIIs, the Trooper IIs, and the tank-sized quads.
Kairo looked for the other man's eyes and saw nothing but scar tissue. "So, what happened then?" Dooley grimaced. "Nothing good. Saul have a speech, started to inspect the troops, and they took him prisoner. A scuffle ensued, loyal troops came to the general's assistance, and Davide opened fire. "That was pretty much it, except for the plan to capture you and secure the rest of the planet". "And it would have worked", Kairo said softly, "if it weren't for my scouts". "And you willingness to listen", Mayweather added firmly. Kairo was about to demur when Gunbuilder appeared at his side. "Yes, Sergeant?" "Com call for you, sir. A technician named Coaster". Kairo allowed his eyebrows to rise.One of Elgiron's super short nights passed into day as a line of artillery shells marched down off a low-lying hill, exploded with the same ruthless efficiency as the computer that controlled them, and hurled fountains of dirt high into the air.Kairo waited for the barrage to end, strolled out of the CP, and nodded to a sentry. "How's it going', Hayes? Better keep your head down. Those idiots might get lucky".Hayes laughed, just as she was supposed to, and told Corporal Ataph. He told Sergeant Muntu, and the entire battalion had the story within the hour."Yup", everyone agreed, "there is nothing that bothers the old man, except cold tea, and stupid orders".None of which would have surprised Kairo, who knew that the troops took a considerable amount of comfort from such stories, and tried to keep them happy.Major Kitty Kitty frowned as her boss riggled up next to her, produced his binoculars, and scanned the distant fort. She considered Kairo's predilect
Kairo, his elbows resting on the quickly melting snow, watched the quad appear. Not just any quad, but one with monster features, and a cross welded to its bow. Kairo felt a sudden emptiness in the pit of his stomach.The officer increased the magnification, and the unrecognizable blob leapt into focus. There was no mistaking the staring eyes, the contorted face, or the horribly bared teeth. It was Saul.Kairo felt an irritating surge of anger. Damn the miserable sonofabitch to hell! Damn him for allowing such a thing to happen, damn him for staying alive, and damn him for putting me in this position!Kitty nudged his arm. "The man on the cross, did you see who it is?"Kairo answered without lowering his binoculars. "Yes, he's hard to miss"."So what should we do?"The word seemed to hang there as Kairo considered his options. One solution was to ignore Saul, attack, and let the chips fall where they may.But what if their positions were reversed?
Colonel Luton Arthur was tired, very tired, but unable to sleep. That was why he rolled off the rumpled cot, ran water into the store room's deep sink, and took a sponge bath. Then, wearing a fresh new uniform, he emerged to prowl the floor.More than two weeks had passed since the revolt. The Global Operation Center hummed to the never-ending flow of reports, requests, and orders. People nodded or in some cases saluted, but kept their distance. They knew his moods.Luton pushed to consider the gigantic globe. The holo seemed to shimmer as it turned. A less conservative man might have been satisfied with the territory under his control - most of North America, Europe, and Asia were red.But all Luton saw were Islands of blue, chunks of territory still identified by ancient names like Mongolia, Ethiopia, and a large part of Brazil. These were the places where resistance had grown and taken root. Partly because of the terrain, and partly because of the people, many of w
Luton hadn't met Beason, but Lo was one of the best. He didn't envy her assignment, however. Marco would have plenty of warnings, and his troops would be ready.The visor came to life; Luton found himself flying a transport and listening to a dirty joke. It was dark beyond the glow of the instrument panel. His chair shuddered slightly as the aircraft hit some chop. The combat team was thirty minutes out and closing fast.The punch line arrived. Luton laughed, and his worries melted away. This was his, this made sense, this was pure. * * * The sun had yet to rise over the Gulf of Eden, but a long, pink line marked the horizon, and the direction from which the attack would come. Straight out of the sun, an old trick that wouldn't provide much of an advantage but was still worth a try.The view is the north looked across the avenue Jalingo Cue to more blue water. The Balge de la Fiesta curved to the south.Marco, who usually beg
Ex-corporal and now Sergeant Sparrow had assigned himself to his commanding officer's staff, where he had assumed responsibility for Marco's personal security. He stood in an open hatch.Marco took one last look around, slid past the foot-thick door, and heard it thud into place.The officer's security detail consisted of Sparrow plus two of Goodear's scouts. The Naa were heavily armed and extremely alert. Fearing another mutiny, the noncom had requested a full squad. Marco had refused on the grounds that six guards plus a noncom was not only a waste of precious manpower but more than a little unseemly.Sparrow knew that the assault force was close and took issue with the way that Marco continued to risk himself. "About time, sir. No sense getting your ass blown off this early in the battle".The Naa fought to conceal their grins. Marco was about to take Sparrow down a notch when a satellite guided missile hit the center of the parade ground. The explos
A tone warbled, James gave a war whoop, and the plane flipped onto its back. There was no way to tell whether the officer had a reason for flying that way or simply wanted to.Luton, still strapped into his chair, felt his feet flip over his head. A stylus feel out of his pocket and clattered to the floor.The infantry officer felt the chair jerk, knew air to surface missiles had been launched, and heard James' casual drawl."Blue Six to Blue Leader. Feet dry, enemy engage. Over"."That's a roger, Blue Six. You are green for target one-niner-four. Do your shit. Over".The Lance flipped right side up, shuddered in response to a near miss, and jerked as two additional flights of ASMs raced toward a preselected target. The sticks continued to pound out their rhythm.Luton forced himself to think, to switch himself away, to "ride" someone else.He was a platoon leader this time. The hard metal seat slammed into
The flight of six Daggers entered the stratosphere, shed heat from their specially designed skins, and bumped through the quickly warming air.Salom checked her heads up display, saw more red deltas than she cared to look at, but was grateful for the fact that they were still below. That was an advantage she was happy to have. The naval officer had targets, plenty of them, which meant they had her as well. Why no response, then? Were they blind?A voice sounded in her helmet. It was confident, verging on smug. "Victor One to incoming Daggers. Welcome to the party. Over".Salom marveled at her luck. The idiot assumed she was friendly! Not surprising, given the circle jerk up in orbit... but not very smart either. Her pilots followed as the naval officer rolled to starboard and dived towards the aircraft below. "Blue One to Victor One. Thanks for the hospitality".Victor One watched the delta-shaped icons roll in behind his formation, heard
The technician entered, started to say something, and Luton waved him off.He waited for the numbers, not wanting to hear them, but knowing that he must. The preliminary report was even worse than he had feared. Fully fifty percent of Assault Team Victor was killed in action, wounded in action, or missing in action.Was Sandral Usmos at fault, for withholding the resources he needed? Or was he to blame, for attempting too much? The answer seemed obvious. The burden was heavy.* * *Marco left the sit room the moment the mutineers cleared the coast. He summoned a Trooper II, climbed onto the cyborg's back, and strapped himself in. The helmet jack entered a panel provided for that purpose. "Take me to the landing Zone located near Boi Vawa. Condition five, assault speed".The cyborg said, "Sir. Yes, sir", and started to jog. Marco could remember when the sideways, up and down motion had made him nauseous, but that was a long time ag