Exiled to Perdition
Author: J. N. Chaney; Jonathan P. Brazee
Date: 2023-03-19 07:00:00+00:00
Keywords: Science Fiction
Description: Where does a warrior go when the war is over? Forged into human weapons to defend humanity against impossible odds, Sergeant Major Reverent Pelletier and the rest of the IBHU Marines and other hyper-augments are discarded by those they fought to protect. Now that the war is over, they are deemed too dangerous to exist. Yet, they may still prove valuable. With two recent, deadly wars against alien races, humanity needs to know what other threats are out there. Exiled from human space, they are given a new dive into the unknown depths of the galaxy and discover what else lurks in the far reaches
Publisher: Variant Publications

Copyrighted Material

Exiled to Perdition Copyright © 2023 by Variant Publications

Book design and layout copyright © 2023 by JN Chaney

This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living, dead, or undead, is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved.

No part of this publication can be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, without permission in writing from JN Chaney.

www.jnchaney.com

www.jonathanbrazee.com

1st Edition

CONTENTS

Don’t Miss Out

Previously in Sentenced to War

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Glossary

Nations, Independent Worlds, and Political Entities Within the Congress of Humanity

Cast of Characters

Acknowledgments

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PREVIOUSLY IN SENTENCED TO WAR

When humanity joined the other races, the tide began to turn against the Naxli. Humanity’s willingness to take it to the enemy was the impetus for a series of military victories.

But the Naxli were not defeated. Anxious to regain the momentum, they devised a plan to inflict damage on what they deemed as the major human center of gravity. They launched an all-out assault upon the home system, and that pulled in a massive effort to reinforce Earth and the other planets.

But the assault was a feint, designed for that reaction. With the might of the human military machine rushing to defend the home system, the other centers of gravity were left relatively undefended, including the MDS capital and Tau Ceti. Because of the notoriety the planet had received from the human press, they also hit Safe Harbor.

There were fewer than two thousand Marines, which included Rev and the rest of the IBHU Marines, on the planet. Joined by the police, they had to create a delaying force to engage the Naxli until the return of a major military force to free Safe Harbor.

Unable to stand toe-to-toe with the enemy, the defenders moved to guerilla tactics and hit the Naxli, then faded away into the mountains. During one battle in the Big Trees Provincial Park, Rev was separated from his unit. He collected a small force of humans and a Breel on the way to his rally point, hitting the Naxli several times. They were chased and pinned down in a mountain valley. While in a desperate battle, the human reinforcements started to arrive, and Naval gunfire decimated the attacking force.

Safe Harbor was saved, but not all planets had the same outcome. Tau Ceti, home of the Rangers, was scoured. And the cost at home was severe. Rev’s family was lost.

Some of the local population blamed the Marines for the invasion. Safe Harbor was hardly a major planet in the Union, and they felt that the press that kept building up the Marines there made them a target. Resentment against the Marines, and especially the IBHU, was growing.

Humanity demanded retribution, however. And due to the sacrifice of a Hégémonie Liberté scout pilot, the Naxli home world had been located. The allied races did not want to attack, fearing the Naxli response. Humanity disagreed, and despite projected casualties in the tens of millions, they decided to attack.

Rev’s battalion was part of the pre-D-Day force, securing one of the Naxli system’s defensive array nodules. Aided by the Genesians, they captured the nodule, seriously degrading the defenses. But then it was time for the invasion, where the first wave’s projected casualty rate was over ninety percent.

But they never reached the planet. The Sia, who had always seemed to be observers, created a field around the planet that destroyed it. Numerous human ships were caught up in the blast and lost, and Rev’s landing craft was badly damaged. But they managed to repair some of the damage and kept themselves alive until they could be rescued.

Other Naxli planets began to fall like dominoes, and the battalion returned to Safe Harbor, but a different home than they’d left. Humanity-first factions fought for power and influence with groups that now considered the Sia as higher beings, meant to cleanse the galaxy of the unworthy. Yet both groups agreed on one thing. All hyper-augments and the Genesians were blots on humanity and needed to be eliminated. Only “pure” humans could move forward.

Some on the radical fringe advocated the culling of the hyper-augments, but a compromise was reached. All hyper-augments would be exiled.

From the Marines, that meant the IBHUs. But with the exiles being given a mission of exploration and early warning of more races that could pose a threat to humankind, they needed a larger unit, and requests for volunteers went out.

Tomiko volunteered, but as a resurrectee, having already been killed once, she was not qualified, and her request was refused. She was devastated and took the only option that she could see. Tomiko took manual control over a hover, extended her arm out of the window, and crashed it, less than two weeks before the exiles were to leave.

But all conversion to IBHU Marines had ceased, and Tomiko was in no shape to undergo the procedure even if it would be approved.

Rev was beside himself, but the dice were already thrown. With the help of his friends, they transported Tomiko to Anastasia Naval Hospital, where all IBHU procedures were done. They took over the clinic and held the techs captive with the demand that they perform the operation on her.

It was a risky gambit, but no one wanted a confrontation. The IBHU techs were willing, so the authorities gave in to what was an armed insurrection of sorts.

While the equipment was being prepared, Rev and Tomiko got married by the hospital chaplain. It had been a spur-of-the-moment decision but one that had been a long time coming.

The operation was not completed, but the first steps were done. Tomiko would need more procedures before she’d be able to deploy an IBHU. Despite the illegality of what they’d just done, the authorities decided giving in was the easiest course of action. Tomiko was assigned to the task force.

However, there was one more wrinkle. To start the procedure, Tomiko’s pregnancy blocker had been turned off, and after getting married and waiting for the team to be ready to start, they’d consummated their marriage.

And, as luck would have it, Tomiko got pregnant. She kept it a secret until they lifted off Safe Harbor, but they were going to be parents.

1

“Should you be exerting yourself like that?” Sergeant Major Reverent Pelletier, Perseus Union Marine Corps, asked his wife, Gunnery Sergeant Tomiko Pelletier.

Tomiko scowled as she grabbed the handles of the next rations case and slung it onto the mule.

“I’m pregnant, not an invalid,” she said under her breath, but loud enough for Rev, with his augmented hearing, to pick up.

Both of them quickly looked around, but no one seemed to be paying any attention to them. They’d agreed to keep the news of her pregnancy quiet until after they left Bare Rock Station and were underway. It had been a fight to get Tomiko on the exile-slash-mission, and they were afraid of making any waves that could get her booted. They hadn’t told anyone, not even Kelly or any of their other close friends.

But standing there in her skivvy shirt, sweat making it cling, he thought he could see the telltale baby bump. Or “babies” bump, as the case may be. Pikachu, her AI battle buddy, told Tomiko she was carrying twins, and as one of the smallest people on the mission, it was going to be hard to hide it for much longer.

Hopefully, in twenty-two days, it would be too late. The Exile Fleet, as the task force was being called, would be on its way to the unknown, and they weren’t going to turn back just because she was expecting.

He hoped.

“You’re not used to your Rycroft yet,” he said, scrambling for an excuse that might not get his wife angry.

“Nice try, Rev,” she said as she held up her shiny prosthetic arm.

“I’m doing just fine with it.”

I didn’t think that would work.

“Just take it easy, OK?” he implored.

“Everyone’s doing the grunt work, Rev. Gunnies included. In case you forgot, we’re going to be out of pocket for a long time, so if we don’t get it aboard now, we’re going to be doing without. Besides, the major’s already giving me the company gunny duties, and that means making sure we’ve got everything we need.”

Rev had to fight not to look guilty. She’d been upset not to be given a platoon sergeant billet. What she didn’t know was that had been his suggestion, not that he ever wanted Tomiko to find out. She was an IBHU. But that didn’t mean she was combat effective with her weapon. It had taken almost a year before Rev had been cleared for combat after he’d received the first one.

The bottom line was that Tomiko would be a liability if they got into the shit somewhere. Better she be given a semi-staff job until she could be brought up to speed with her IBHU and gain the needed proficiency to use it effectively.

She bent over to grab the next rations case, and Rev darted forward to take the other side. Each case massed ninety-four kilos, and with Tomiko’s augments, she was more than strong enough to lift it. Rev half expected her to tell him to scram, but she probably figured it was a lost cause and relented. Three more cases, and the mule was full.

“Mule six-four-nine, take the load to the PUNS Galaxy Explorer, space G-forty-two-blue,” she said in a clear voice.

“Understood,” the mule said as it lifted twenty centimeters off the ground and joined the column of other transporters taking loads into the ex- PUNS Seary, a decommissioned Navy supply ship, now recommissioned as the Galaxy Explorer and assigned to the task force.

Tomiko watched it for a moment. The mules were extremely old commercial transporters, nothing like the more modern units they had back on Safe Harbor, and while their tiny AIs were supposed to understand different accents and several languages, these seemed to be having problems with understanding some of the Marines.

Satisfied that it wasn’t about to deep-space the load, she turned to call up the next one, only to see the queue empty.

“We need more mules if we’re going to load out, Sergeant Major,” she said, which by using his rank, was letting Rev know she had her platoon sergeant hat on and was no longer his wife.

“That’s all there is. Bare Rock wasn’t designed to load out a task force. Just wait, and these will return soon enough.”

“Soon enough was yesterday. We’re running short of time.”

“I’ll see what I can do. But we were sent here to assemble because it’s outta the way and outta sight. We’re not here because this is a big logistical hub.”

And it’s easy to control access.

There was significant media interest in the task force, but the powers that be had placed heavy restrictions on access. There were only twelve certified pool reporters, and much of the station had been placed off-limits to them.

“Any word on the Nustrum?” she asked as she wiped the sweat from her brow with her organic forearm.

“On order,” Rev said.

The BTC-103, made by Nustrum Industries, Inc, was a single-product industrial printer that made powerpacks. With the task force being gone for an “indefinite” amount of time—read: forever—it was being outfitted with the normal supply of industrial printers so almost anything the task force needed could be fabricated. But while the common printers could make basic powerpacks, the output would be decidedly inferior to what a specialized printer could create. The Nustrum was one of fourteen specialized printers requested by the task force, and as of the moment, was one of the six that had not yet arrived at Bare Rock.

“On order? If it isn’t here when we kick off, we’re going without it,” Tomiko said.

“I’ll check on it. There’s a principal staff meeting at fourteen hundred.”

“Fourteen hundred? Do you have time to catch a bite with me?”

Rev didn’t really. This was just one of the working parties he wanted to check before the meeting. On the other hand, Tomiko’s hopeful expression was pretty telling.

“Sure. I can break away for a quick bite.”

Tomiko smiled, then turned to the other Marines and barked, “We’re out of lifters for the moment. As soon as your current one’s loaded, break for chow. I want everyone back here at thirteen hundred.”

She grabbed her utility blouse and slipped it back on, then intertwined her organic arm through Rev’s prosthesis.

“SNCO mess or Chicken Shack?”

The station SNCO mess was free, while the commercial Chicken Shack was much more expensive than any of the chain’s outlets on Safe Harbor. But they were going to be gone for a long time, and where else were they going to be able to spend their money?

“Chicken Shack. I feel like a Hades Special.”

She raised a single eyebrow, one of her quirky abilities. “Right before a staff meeting? That’s my Rev. You are fearless.”

* * *

Rev let out a quiet burp. The fire from the Hades Special burned as much on the way up as it had on the way down. Maybe it hadn’t been such a great idea to order it before what might be a long afternoon.

“Can you give me a suppressant?” he asked Punch, his embedded AI.

<I should hold it back. You were warned.>

“Quit being a smartass, Punch.”

<I didn’t say I would hold it back. I only said I should hold it. I’ve activated the nanos.>

Which would take some time to neutralize the capsaicin in his belly, but it was better than nothing.

Kiara Delta slid into the seat beside him. “You ready for another exciting meeting?”

“Oh, very,” he said, and she recoiled in mock horror from him waving a hand in front of her face.

“Were you at Rasiika for lunch?” she asked.

“Chicken Shack. And I’ve got my nanos working on it.”

“Have them work quicker, or I’m going to regret sitting next to you.”

“Oh, you love me, Kiara, and you know it.”

“I think Miko’s the only one willing to put up with your BS,” the civilian said.

Kiara was the Assistant Director of Logistics, which was a fancy civilian term for what would be a logistics chief in a Marine battalion or regiment. He’d been working closely with her since their arrival at the station as well as spending quite a bit of their limited free time with her.

Bare Rock Station was an extremely isolated outpost, and most of the staff was pretty happy to have the influx of personnel arrive. Kiara was one of a handful that had taken to hanging out with Rev, Tomiko, and the other SNCOs.

“Speaking of her, she asked me today about the Nustrum. Any word?”

Kiara grimaced, then said, “Nothing. No ETA.”

“We’re leaving in fifteen days, Kiara. We really need it.”

“Well, if you hadn’t requested it a month ago. Something like that typically takes six or seven months,” she said.

“Six or seven months ago, we didn’t know we’d be on this mission,” Rev snapped, a little harder than he’d intended.

It wasn’t Kiara’s fault, he knew. But the rush to deploy would almost assuredly result in needed supplies or equipment not being loaded, something that the gods of war would make sure was needed at the most inopportune time while far away from human space.

She frowned at his tone but said, “I’ll send out a Q-gram after the meeting for an update. But Nustrum isn’t the most responsive company around.”

Rev wanted to tell her to make a call, not just send a Q-gram, which was the civilian term for a quantum text message. The lack of alacrity or even moderate responsiveness in the civilian world was beyond his military mind’s ability to comprehend, but he’d already experienced enough since they’d arrived on station to know that a Q-gram would probably be ignored. He knew that even as friendly as Kiara was, though, it wouldn’t be smart to piss her off.

“Thanks. Hopefully, they’ll get off their asses and do their job,” he said, trying to deflect any criticism to “they” and not anyone on the station.

Before she could respond, Captain Bane and Dr. Yollie Njuguna entered the conference room together, still in mid-discussion about something to do with the Galaxy Explorer’s main bubble drives. While Rev understood most of the individual words, he had no idea what they were saying and whether it was good or bad.

He gave a quick glance at Lieutenant Colonel Bundy, but his friend didn’t seem too concerned about what the two leaders of the Exile Fleet were discussing. If Bundy didn’t seem worried, then it probably wasn’t much, so Rev ignored them.

Captain Bane was not an official leader of the task force, but as the CO of the Galaxy Explorer, he was the senior military person. And in a typical clusterfuck of something put together by civilian bureaucrats, the captain was not even the squadron commander of all three ships in the Exile Fleet nor of the ground force, which was commanded by Bundy. Njuguna was the leader for the overall mission, making command a three-headed beast.

That was a quietly spoken bone of contention among the Marines, Rangers, and Legionnaires. The entire raison d'être of the mission was to get rid of the gadfly the mere existence of the hyper-augments had become. The growing pressure from the resurgent Children of Angels and other groups was why the mission had been so hastily put together.

But either as camouflage or for expediency’s sake—the purported mission of exploration had been in the initial planning stages—this had turned into a scientific and exploration mission in actuality.

That wasn’t a bad thing in its own right, in Rev’s view. It sure beat getting lined up against a wall and shot. And it gave them a purpose other than simply being exiled. He wasn’t even upset with Dr. Njuguna as the mission head. The former Ministre des Sciences et de la Technologie for the Hégémonie Liberté, she seemed capable enough. But to go out without a firm military or military-like chain of command was flirting with disaster.

Dr. Njuguna and the captain took their seats, still discussing the ship’s bubble drive for a few moments before the doctor said, “Keep me updated, but I don’t see it as a pressing issue at the moment.”

Captain Bane looked like he wanted to argue, but after a quick glance around the table at all those waiting, he left it at that.

“Thank you, ladies and gentlemen. I know you’re all busy, but we’ve got a lot to cover this afternoon. None maybe so important as what I’m going to tell you before we get going into the nitty-gritty.”

Rev perked up. He hated the nitty-gritty, most of which usually had not much to do with him. At least, this might be interesting.

“Actually, two things. The first is that in two days, the MDSS Strike Hawk will arrive and join the task force.”

There was a collective intake of breath. This wasn’t a huge surprise. The Strike Hawk was a Manifest Destiny military ship, and while there were currently twenty-three MDS karnans in the task force, three of whom had been in the First Human Expeditionary Battalion, no one believed they represented the total population of the MDS hyper-augments. Granted, there were very few survivors of the Second Human Expeditionary Battalion, which was primarily an MDS unit, but still, there had been far more karnans created than all of the other hyper-augments combined.

Where the rest of the karnans were had been a major topic of discussion since they arrived on the station. Kelly thought the karnans were being hidden by the MDS, ready to be employed once all the IBHU and other hyper-augments were out of the picture. Now, it looked like they were showing up.

“What’s the capacity of the Strike Hawk?” he subvocalized.

<The Strike Hawk is an Attack Eagle-class cruiser. Its listed crew is 214, and it can hold 1,024 combat troops.>

Which meant if it carried a full complement of karnans, there would be more of them on the task force than all of the other military personnel combined. That wasn’t something that pleased Rev. Yes, the MDS had been their allies during the Naxli War, but before that, they’d led the coalition that had fought the rest of humanity.

Twenty-three karnans, he could handle. A thousand? That changed the calculations.

“The MDS will fall under my authority,” she continued once the murmurs quieted down. “Colonel-Captain Sjekvic will answer directly to me.”

Rev quickly tried to catch Bundy’s eyes. As a newly promoted lieutenant colonel, Bundy was the senior ground officer in the task force—or had been. A colonel-captain was the equivalent of a Marine colonel, but one who also commanded a naval vessel. And credits to doughnuts, the MDS would have sent a senior colonel-captain on the mission.

She turned to Captain Bane, who seemed to have been taken by surprise by her announcement.

He wasn’t in the loop.

“Your position aboard the Galaxy Explorer hasn’t changed, and she’ll still be my headquarters.”

Which was her civilian way of saying that the Galaxy Explorer would be the Exile Fleet’s flagship.

“And that leads us to the second bit of news.”

It will be hard to top that.

“There is also another ship joining us.”

We know about the Bugattis.

The long-rumored Bugatti hyper-augments had proven to be more than just a rumor. They’d been in development for eight years, and now, before they’d even been fielded in operational units, they were exiled along with the rest of them. No one in the task force knew much about them yet, other than they were scheduled to arrive in five days.

Dr. Njuguna hesitated a moment, then said, “We’re also getting another ship. It’s a passenger liner, one of the Star Burst Line.”

Rev opened his eyes in surprise. Star Burst was a luxury line, flagged out of New Vox. All of the ships in the task force were military with the ability to defend themselves. While passenger liners usually had limited anti-piracy capabilities, they were not fighting vessels, and going into the unknown, Rev couldn’t see sending an unarmed ship.

“The passengers aboard the ship are what’s interesting, and I am awaiting instructions as to our relationship with them. On board, there are 1,767 Genesians, what is evidently their entire population.”

The conference room fell into dead silence.

Rev’s mind was whirling. In the hustle and bustle of getting ready, the presence of the Genesians had faded from the foreground. But, if anything, their existence was a bigger item among the population than the hyper-augments.

“Yes, I feel the same way,” the doctor said to the quiet room. “Took me by surprise, although it shouldn’t have. They’re getting rid of you hyper-augments,” she said, nodding first at Captain Torma of the Rangers, then at Rev. “So why not throw the gennies into the mix?”

“The gennies hid out once,” Bundy said. “They probably volunteered to escape again.”

Dr. Njuguna shrugged her shoulders. “Whether they volunteered or were forced to join us doesn’t matter. They’ll be part of this mission. How that will affect us, well, I don’t know yet. But we’ll work it out.”

She paused for a moment and then said, “With those two little surprises out of the way, we still have a lot to get done, so let’s get at it. Dieter?”

Dr. Dieter Hyung, the civilian second in charge, cleared his throat, and with his voice cracking, started. “As Dr. Njuguna said, we’ve got a lot to cover. First thing on the docket is the status of the . . .”

Rev wasn’t listening. There wouldn’t be anything that pertained to him for at least half an hour. His mind was on overdrive. Now, along with the Marines, the Tau Ceti Rangers, the Bugattis, the Hégémonie Legion space hyper-augments, and the Rigel navigators, along with the civilians from nine different nations, they were being joined by a shitload of karnans and even Genesians.

All without a firm, designated, unified chain of command.

Rev had a very bad feeling that this could turn into a disaster very quickly.

2

“Reading light, on,” Rev said.

The reading light ignored him.

He reached up and hit the manual switch. The light stayed dark.

“Think we can cross-deck to the gennies?” he asked Tomiko.

“What are you talking about?” she asked from the small fold-out desk they would be sharing.

“The gennies. Think we can cross-deck to them? A Star Burst cruise liner’s sounding pretty darn good right about now.”

Tomiko rolled her eyes. “Are you still messing around with that light? This is an old ship, and you’ve got to expect there are glitches with the refurbishments.”

“If the shipyard couldn’t get a simple light to work, then how can they fix a bubble drive or a meson cannon?”

He pulled out the bulb for the seventh time, checked the connection, and slipped it back into place.

“Reading light, on.”

Still nothing.

“May the Mother help us,” he muttered as he rolled over onto his stomach and looked over the stateroom, which would be their home for the next . . . forever?

As a sergeant major, he rated one of the largest of the SNCO quarters. Which was good because he had a roommate. Married couples were almost never assigned to the same ship, but this wasn’t a normal deployment. Rules were bent, if not broken, and the two of them were setting up shop together.

Tomiko was technically Kelly’s roommate, according to the initial load-out, but that was being ignored. It was better for the two of them, and it was better for Kelly, who now had a stateroom to herself.

The stateroom was hardly spacious. As big as the ship was, the crew and embarked Marines’ berthing spaces took up only a small portion of the ship. Most of the vessel was taken up with storage, fabrication, hangar, and machine shops.

One side of the space was a single bunk bed. A desk pulled down from the bulkhead opposite the rack, and alongside that was a couch that could be folded up when not in use. A single sink, shower, and head took up the back bulkhead.

Rev had been in worse during his career, but there had been an end date for each of those deployments. This small stateroom was going to be their home from here on out. It was small for the two of them. How would it be with two babies?

“You still sick?” Rev asked.

“I only threw up twice today,” she said.

“What about meds?”

“Pikachu said there’s a small chance it can affect the babies.”

“And when are you going to let sickbay know that you’re preggie?”

“After rendezvous.”

Rev grunted. He thought they were safe now. The entire task force, minus the Genesians, was embarked and ready for the final orders to get underway. If they wanted to drop Tomiko from the mission, they’d have to send a shuttle out from Bare Rock to fetch her. And then what? She was an IBHU.

But if she wanted to wait, well, he wasn’t going to argue.

He rolled back over and stared at the bottom of the top rack. The flat gray paint was unblemished. He had visions of toddlers scribbling on it, just as Neesy had done all over their home’s walls when she was three.

The thought of his sister brought a lump to his throat. The pain hit him less often now and with less of a gutshot, but it was somehow deeper at the same time. He knew there were still some people unaccounted for, but not many. The chance that anyone in his family was alive was remote, and that was something that had been extremely difficult to accept.

Not my entire family. I’ve still got Miko and Kat. And the babies.

His wristcomp buzzed. Rev glanced at it, then swung his legs around and off the rack.

Tomiko just looked at him with her eyebrows raised.

“Wardroom,” he said.

“Think this is it?”

Rev just shrugged. They’d been fully embarked for fourteen hours now, waiting for the orders to take off. The word was that it could take up to a week for the final command to go. Bundy wasn’t the type of officer, though, to just hold meetings because he thought he should be doing something. If he called the meeting, then there was something to pass.

Rev slipped on his utility blouse, leaned over to kiss Tomiko on the head, then patted her belly.

“I’ll be back.”

“Where else are you going to go?” she asked with a snort.

Rev left the room and headed down the passage. Their stateroom was at the edge of officer country, just a deck above and thirty meters away.

Like an old salt, he grabbed the forward edge of the hatch around the ladder and swung down, skipping each step, and landed with catlike agility on the deck below. A circus gymnast would have been proud.

The door to the wardroom was open, and Rev walked in. Captain Bane was already there, sitting at the head table. He nodded at Rev, then held out a hand, palm up, indicating that he should join him.

Rev took a seat at the end of the table as more personnel entered the space. All military, though. No civilians.

Major White Eagle took a seat next to Rev. “You hear anything?”

“No, sir. Nothing.”

Rev’s relationship with the major was a little up in the air. As originally envisioned, the major was the ground combat commander, in place to lead the IBHU Marines into combat, if necessary, with Rev as the senior enlisted IBHU. But the T/O had gone through several reiterations, and with Bundy and the rest of the non-IBHU Marines, and then the other hyper-augments added, Rev had slid into a more normal sergeant major role, acting as Bundy’s senior enlisted advisor.

As an IBHU, he was still part of the combat element, but he was essentially a battalion sergeant major, too. Which begged the question of who his real boss was. It should be Bundy, but Major White Eagle didn’t act like that was the case.

It didn’t take long for all of the principal sailors and Marines to assemble. Captain Bane gave them a moment to settle in before standing and giving them a rather dramatic sweep of his gaze.

“Ladies and gentlemen. The time has come. As of fifteen hundred, TMT, we are officially stood up as Task Force 30-19 and detached from Seventh Fleet. Two hours later, at seventeen hundred, we’re getting underway.”

* * *

“Think they’ll be there?” Staff Sergeant Mordechai “Strap” Gantz asked.

“Why wouldn’t they be?” Staff Sergeant Tumeric Tsao, holder of the Platinum Nova, asked.

“I don’t know. They’re gennies. Who knows how they think?”

Tsao gave Strap a soft punch in the arm. “We fought with them, Chai. They think like anyone else.”

Tomiko gave Rev a knowing look. No one called Strap “Chai.”

Rev knew that relationships were going to pop up, and that could end up being a major headache. Not that he was the best person to deal with the issues. With Tomiko and him, who was he to talk?

He’d had a couple of brief discussions on the subject with Bundy, but with the hustle and bustle of getting ready to deploy, the issue hadn’t gained traction. But it would. This was a forever deployment. It was one thing to keep a lid on romantic relationships on a six-month or one-year deployment, but when this was a one-way trip, it was expecting too much to think that relationships would not form.

And from the look of those two, it might be sooner rather than later.

“We’ll find out soon enough,” the newly promoted Kelly O’Donnell said. “We’re dropping out of bubble space in twenty minutes.”

“We aren’t. The Mad Dogs are,” Tomiko said. “We’ll follow after them.”

Kelly shrugged off the correction. But to Rev, that was a major issue, and he hoped this wasn’t setting precedence.

He wasn’t quite sure what he felt about having the MDS ship on the mission. He’d served with karnans twice now—once with the Home Guard and then in the Naxli War. But he’d fought against them, too. And he thought they were an aggressive, ego-driven people who might be along with ulterior motives.

He was fine with the twenty-three who had joined them earlier. But with the arrival of the Strike Eagle, the MDS outnumbered the rest of the military strength of the task force.

And now they were the point ship coming out of bubble space for the rendezvous with the Genesians? He didn’t like it one bit, even if it made tactical sense. The Strike Eagle was the most powerful naval platform in the task force. If the Genesians were trying something, the MDS ship was the most capable of handling whatever was thrown at them.

“Has there been any decision on the gennies’ position within the task force?” Sergent Chef Vasseur asked Rev.

Henri “Mouf” Vasseur was one of their eight Hégémonie Liberté Legion 2ème REP hyper-augments. Unlike the Rangers, IBHUs, and the others, the Legionnaires’ hyper-augments weren’t obvious at first glance, but in the vacuum of space, there were probably no better soldiers in all of humanity.

Vasseur had arrived with the “Mouf” nickname, which Punch told him was short for moufette, or “skunk.” It wasn’t the most positive nickname, but the sergeant chef answered to the name, and Rev wasn’t going to question it.

“Have there been any decisions made on anybody here, Mouf? Why would it be any different with the gennies? This is still a work in progress. At least that’s what they’re saying.”

“In another hour, we’ll be taking off for our first destination. Maybe somebody better get their asses in gear and figure this out?” Tomiko said, giving Rev a pointed look.

“You’re preaching to the choir, Miko,” Rev said. “It’s not my call.”

“You’re the Exile Fleet sergeant major,” she said.

Which wasn’t exactly true. While the two Union ships were under a single command, the other three—soon to be four—were not, so Rev could hardly be the task force sergeant major. He wasn’t even the senior Union enlisted. Command Master Chief Umman, who had come out of retirement for the mission, had twelve years of seniority over him.

Still, he felt a little guilty for not being able to force the issue. He didn’t care if the governments back home were having a pissing contest over the task force. They weren’t the ones who were going to be plying the great black.

And as Tomiko had pointed out, in another hour or so, if things went according to plan, they’d be leaving human space behind. The games that the bigwigs on New Mars, Titan, or Alabaster were playing really wouldn’t matter much to them.

So, the quicker they settled the situation, the better, and to hell with what anyone back home thought about it.

The talk drifted to less-controversial topics as everyone kept half an eye on the timer. They reached the Strike Eagle’s insertion point, and no calls to general quarters sounded through the ship.

And then, twenty-three minutes later, “All hands, all hands, prepare for real space. Crew, man your stations.”

Talk in the chiefs’ mess died down, and the gathered SNCOs turned their attention to the main screen. It was still dark, of course, except for the timer in the screen’s upper right corner. They couldn’t see anything while in bubble space.

The timer ticked down, and Rev tensed as the final ten seconds trickled away. Supposedly, the transition into normal space couldn’t be detected by the human body, but Rev could swear he felt something each time.

It only made sense. For a tiny nanosecond, his body was stretched over kiloklicks as the ship emerged.

But his eyes were locked on the screen, which immediately focused on the passenger liner floating serenely in space.

“I told you so, Chai,” Tsao said.

Strap shrugged. “You’re always right.”

“Just don’t you forget it,” she said, reaching out and brushing his cheek with her fingers.

Rev resisted an eye-roll as he stood.

“I’m going to the bridge to find out if we’re still getting underway on schedule.”

He could have simply called on his wristcomp, but he was feeling out of sorts. And he thought the walk would help him clear his head.

It didn’t. He still felt the same when he returned to the chiefs’ mess. Tomiko offered him a cup of good Navy coffee, but he shook his head. He’d always had a sensitive stomach, but they were on a capital ship now. He’d never live it down if he blew chunks here.

“Crew, embarked troops, and civilians, this is the captain speaking. We’ll be getting underway in just over twenty minutes. I don’t need to tell you that this is a historic moment in human history. When the First and Second Expansions occurred, we suspected, but never knew for sure, if there were others in the universe.

“We know now. And as we start the Third Expansion, we know that we aren’t alone.”

“Third Expansion? I never thought of it like that,” Tomiko said.

Neither had Rev. And he wasn’t sure if that was accurate. They weren’t looking to settle new worlds. They weren’t set up for that. If this were the Third Expansion, it was only a preliminary action.

“. . . trust all of us to perform our mission, no matter how difficult, no matter the sacrifice . . .”

The captain went on, no doubt recording his speech to send back home.

Why? We’ll never see them again.

A wave of discomfort rolled through his gut at the thought. He came close to losing his lunch. It was with a force of will that he pushed it back down.

“Punch, give me the antiemetics.”

<Your nausea does not seem to have a physiological origin that I can detect.>

“Punch! Just give it to me!”

He thought he could feel the meds kick in, but they didn’t relieve the distress.

The captain finished his speech, and the ship went into the jump protocol. There was a sour taste in the back of his throat as the ship prepared for its jump run.

He wiped his forearm across his forehead, then glanced at the others to see if they’d noticed. To his surprise, most of the others looked a little off as well. Strap was pale, and he looked about ready to faint.

“Did we eat something bad for lunch?” he asked his battle buddy.

<There is no indication of that.>

It must be, though.

“You OK, Strap?” he asked.

Strap gave a quick nod. “I’m OK. I’m just a little, uh . . . it’s just hard to think that we’re actually leaving.”

And then it hit him. It wasn’t bad pasta that had many of them feeling nauseous. And it wasn’t really nausea.

“Punch, what was that thing you told me before we left Safe Harbor? Something about footsteps and leaving home?”

<I asked you why is leaving home like standing on wet cement? And then I answered that is because the longer you stay, the harder it becomes to leave, and you can never let go without leaving your footprints.>

That was the answer. They were leaving home. Not Safe Harbor. Not Beacon like Tsao, or even Dijon like Vasseur. But humanity. And unlike when they left human space to fight the Naxli, this time, they weren’t going back.

Rev wasn’t physically sick. His subconscious was just reacting to the severing of their existence with the human race.

“We’re doing this for humanity,” he announced. “Feel proud.”

“We’re doing this because humanity kicked us out,” Tomiko whispered.

Rev took her hand and squeezed it as they watched the display show the six ships race to their jump points.

Six ships of exiles, racing into the unknown as a shield to protect the very people who’d discarded them.

It doesn’t matter if they discarded us or not. This is what we are now. This is our purpose. Guardians.

One by one, the ships winked off of the display as they jumped, leaving humanity behind forever.

3

“We need to be in synch if things are going to run smoothly,” Rev said.

“Don’t worry,” Command Master Chief Umman said with what sure looked like a smirk to Rev. “Things have a way of working out, and as you gain experience, you’ll realize that the less you stick your nose into things, the better off it’ll be.”

Rev stood over his still-seated Navy counterpart and just stared at him as he tried to think of something else to say. He’d briefly met with Umman several times and been in more than a few meetings, but that was it. So, now that they were gathering for the first post-jump meeting of the leaders of the task force, he thought it would be a good idea to arrange for a sit-down with the senior Navy enlisted sailor on the ship.

“So, you sure you don’t want to meet? I was thinking after chow would be a good time.”

The command master chief waved a dismissive hand. “If something comes up that concerns both of us, well, we’re going to be on the ship for a long, long time, and we’ll have plenty of opportunities to put our heads together if needed. In my forty-six years in uniform, one thing I learned a long time ago was not to create problems before they even exist. That’s a good way to create them in the first place.

“You’ll learn that, too, after you get a few years under your belt.”

Rev was dumbfounded, and he really didn’t know how to react. He preferred proactive to reactive. He preferred organized to disorganized. He preferred the military way to whatever it was the command master chief was proposing.

How the hell do you run a unit like that?

“Here comes the boss,” Umman said, pointing over Rev’s shoulder.

Rev turned to see Dr. Njuguna and a few of her staff enter the galley. A couple of the military personnel started to stand, as they would when a commander entered a space, but when no one else did, they sat.

“This isn’t Kansas anymore, Punch,” he muttered while still standing.

“Why don’t you go take your seat, Sergeant Major,” Umman said, clearly dismissing him. “We can talk later if we need to.”

Rev felt his warrior self start to rumble, and he pushed him back down. He didn’t need to make some smartass remark and further poison the well. And he really had no recourse.

The organization had gelled somewhat. On the Galaxy Explorer, things on the military side had reverted to standard SOP. Captain Bane commanded all military personnel while underway aboard the ship. Additionally, he acted as a squadron commander over the Galaxy Explorer and the PUNS Wahoo, the other Union ship in the task force. Command shifted to Lieutenant Colonel Bundy the moment the landing craft left the ship for operations or a planetary operation.

That meant that at the moment, as they plied bubble space, Umman was his senior in authority. He couldn’t force the issue if the man wanted to ignore him.

Dr. Njuguna was still the overall leader of the Exile Fleet—the name had stuck even if only the Galaxy Explorer and Strike Eagle carried the exiled personnel—and her staff was running the show. Both Bane and Bundy answered to her, but with matters of security, either could overrule the civilian.

That didn’t codify their relationship with the other ships, but at least it gave the military personnel on the two ships a working framework. In this case, though, it worked against Rev.

He made an effort to control his temper, turned around, and strode to where the Marines were sitting. Lieutenant Rosa scooted over on one of the bench seats, and Rev sat down beside her just as Dr. Njuguna reached the front.

She made a show of looking around the galley, the only space outside of the hangars, warehouses, and machine spaces where the entire leadership could meet face-to-face.

Rev looked around as well. The three demographics might as well have been seated in assigned groups. The sailors were sitting with other sailors, the Marines with Marines, and the civilians with their fellow civilians. Only Bane and Bundy were sitting with the ship’s medical officer and the Rigel head navigator at the front.

He shifted his gaze to the left, then suddenly froze, his stare locked onto the back of one of the civilians’ heads.

“Is that who I think it is?” he asked Punch in shock.

<I don’t know who you think it is. The profile fits many people from your past.>

“Council of Humanity Task Force 30-19, now that we’re underway for our first target, I wanted to take this opportunity to . . .” the doctor started, but Rev ignored her.

His attention was on the man four tables away. And as if on cue, the grandfatherly looking man slowly turned around. He caught Rev’s eyes, then gave a slow smile and a nod before turning back to their leader.

<If you think that’s Zach Wolf, then yes, you are correct.>

“What the hell is he doing here?”

<Given who he works for, the most likely reason is to keep watch on the task force.>

“The task force or me?”

Rev and Wolf—if that was even his real name—went back years, and the relationship hadn’t been good. Rev had been imprisoned after the fight on Asteroid 6-067-442 and accused of being a traitor. Wolf had conducted the decidedly unfriendly interrogation. The Omega Division agent had later reached out while Rev was with the Home Guard, and then their paths seemed to cross several times after his return to the Corps first, then the combined units.

He’d played an important part of the con Rev and Punch had played to determine who was spying on them, and to this day, Rev didn’t know if he’d suspected them of that. And now, here he was on a never-to-return task force.

But doing what?

Rev’s mind was whirling. He’d hoped he’d escaped the politics that had seemed to follow him like his personal dark storm cloud, but seeing Wolf was a jolt of reality. Politics always was part of the scene.

Dr. Njuguna droned on, mostly in the vein of how important the mission was and for them to work together. She introduced her principals and had Bundy and Bane introduce theirs. Rev managed to stand up when his name was called, but most of what went on was a blur, even when she gave the preliminaries of their first target.

When the meeting finally closed, Rev had to fight the urge to confront Wolf. But this was neither the time nor place for that. He stood and silently watched the Omega Division agent join the other civilians as they filed out.

Just before he reached the hatch, Wolf turned, located Rev, and raised a hand in a caricature of a military salute.

Rev didn’t return it.

4

<Movement, right.>

But Rev had seen it, too, and was already engaging with his twenty. Rounds tore up the vegetation, but the Naxli fighter came apart in a satisfying burst of a blue-black mist.

“Shift left,” he told Hvarser and Tiwari. “I think they’re trying to flank us.”

The two—the Dalit Marine and Alliance soldier—had volunteered for the mission because of Rev, and after some discussion with the major, Rev had been able to retain the two in his special reaction team instead of having them farmed out to the platoons. They’d worked well as a team during the war, and that was only getting better the more time they spent together.

Tiwari and Hvarser darted to the left on either side of him, each sliding into position where they could cover the rest and still provide maximum firepower against the enemy.

Rev, with his IBHU, provided the main firepower. He was the point of main effort, so-to-speak. But just as a tank needs infantry support, Rev needed security, too. Tiwari and Hvarser were his security team, but they still had their bite.

Two sword-wielding Naxli charged from behind a tree. Rev took them both down as Tiwari fired his M-103 40-millimeter grenade launcher. Rev barely noted the detonation off to the left as they pushed forward. He trusted the Dalit to cover the flank.

<Armor sounds from the front.>

Rev grunted. The Naxli didn’t rely heavily on armor, and while there had been tank battles, like on Wie’s World, his fights against the alien enemy had been infantry versus infantry.

He checked the fuzes on his Morays and confirmed they were on anti-armor settings.

“Looks like they’re throwing some tanks at us,” he told the other two.

“Let ‘em come,” Hvarser said gleefully.

“You’re a strange cookie, Cheeto.”

“Strange but still a killer, Sergeant Major.”

A ten-meter-high tree crashed to the ground in front of them as if stomped on by Godzilla. Rev’s warrior screamed for release, and his pulse raced. He readied Pashu.

“There!” he said as he spotted the top of the approaching Naxli armor.

He aimed in, holding back for a moment, waiting for a less-obstructed sight picture. A Moray could deal with some degree of obstruction, but too much could knock the missile off course.

“Now!”

He fired the Moray, his excitement rising as the missile arced slightly up to be able to come down on the top of the Naxli tank. It had a solid lock. Rev’s anticipation rose as it started back down . . . and the entire scene faded to black.

“What the hell?” he shouted, taking off his helmet and slamming it to the ground.

He spun around to where Sergeant Driscoll was on the control panel but then stopped when he spotted Tomiko standing beside the simulator operator.

Hvarser and Tiwari took off their helmets, too. Tiwari was his normal, unflappable self, but Hvarser seemed as frustrated as Rev was.

“Hold on,” he told the other two. “Let me see what’s up.”

He stepped off of the training platform and approached the panel.

“This better be good, Gunny. Do you know how hard it was to get sim time for my team?”

As large as the ship was, there was only one physical simulation suite on board, and it had only twelve stations. While the entire force could jack in together for virtual operations, nothing beat walking through a battlefield and taking on the enemy. But with their first mission tomorrow, the suite had been in use around the clock as units tried to train up.

“Sorry to bother you, but I need your rank,” Tomiko said.

“For what?”

“The Number Four Printer’s down, and I—”

“Down? We’ve only just gotten going.”

She shrugged and said, “Well, it’s down. And Number 4’s been doing our MD-43s.”

The MD-43 was an O2 recycling canister relay for the PAL combat suit, and in a post-deployment inventory, several hundred of the small but necessary components were missing. They’d been counted on Bare Rock, they’d been logged in as having been loaded, but they were not in their assigned storage cell, nor could they be found after a thorough search of the ship.

The captain had authorized a print run to create the missing parts, and as the company gunny, it was Tomiko’s job to oversee the process.

“So, just switch to another printer.”

Tomiko shook her head. “The Navy won’t play ball. They said the other printers have jobs queued up, and they can’t do that.”

“Their printer is down, and they’re taking our job off the line? Bullshit. Who’s saying no?”

“The senior chief.”

By the Mother, help me.

He could see the problem. A senior chief was an E-8. A gunny was an E-7. Tomiko couldn’t tell a senior chief to do anything.

Rev turned to his team. “Training’s over. Go secure your weapons.”

Hvarser seemed like she wanted to argue, but Tiwari said something Rev couldn’t hear, and they both climbed down from their platforms. He dismissed Driscoll and told him to return to the CP.

“Lead on,” he told Tomiko.

“Are you going like that?” she asked, eyeing his IBHU.

“Screw them. I’m not going to threaten them with this,” he said, raising Pashu. “But if they’re a little intimidated, well, I can’t help if they’re slime-licking wimps.”

The print shop was on the other side of the ship from the simulator. The working spaces were a beehive of activity, but most of the sailors stopped for a moment and watched Rev walk past. They’d get used to a Marine in a PAL and sporting an IBHU, but for now, he was still something new to most of them.

They entered the print shop and made their way to Number 4. Two sailors had the control panel open, and when the petty officer saw them, he just hooked a thumb and pointed down between the lines of printers to the far side.

They made their way to the senior chief, who was sitting at a small, beat-up desk.

The woman looked up and with an amazingly fake smile and sweet voice, asked, “What can I do for you, Sergeant Major?”

“You can find another printer and get our MD-43s out. That’s what you can do.”

Tomiko nudged him with her elbow. She was the hotheaded one of the two of them, but this time, she was reminding him to remain cool.

“I know you’re doing your best, Senior Chief,” he amended. “But we need you to help us out.”

In that same almost-disdainful voice, she said, “Well, Sergeant Major, I’d love to help you out. That’s what we’re here for, after all. But you see, Number 4’s down, and I can’t just whistle the parts out of thin air.”

Rev kept his voice calm. He wasn’t going to let her get his goat. “You have other printers.”

“Which are all scheduled. You Marines aren’t the only ones who’re missing supplies. Lots of them never made it to Bare Rock in time, so my shop is working around the clock as it is. I can’t bump someone else for you, not without an Alpha-1 priority classification. Uh . . . you don’t have an Alpha-1, do you?” she asked with that same fake smile.

She knew he didn’t. Alpha-1s weren’t easily assigned, and each of the PALs was currently in working condition.

Rev leaned over the desk, placing both his right hand and the muzzle of his IBHU on it. She didn’t flinch, nor did she even glance at the weapon.

Time to up the ante.

“If that’s your position, I’ll just—”

“I already cleared this with the command master chief,” she said, cutting him off.

Rev almost snarled. That was exactly what he was going to say he was going to do. He slowly straightened up.

“Of course, you can bring it up with the Os, if you want. That’s your right,” she said, almost as if it was an afterthought.

Rev knew it wasn’t. She was baiting him while taking his measure at the same time.

Rev could take it up the chain. But if he did, when it came down to it, Bundy was junior to the captain, and while underway like this, the captain’s word was final, so the end result would likely be the same.

But that was secondary. The big thing was that the senior chief was insulting him in a passive-aggressive manner. SNCOs did not like to take their conflicts to the officers. They took care of things on their own, and those who always relied on the officers quickly lost the respect of their peers.

She was opening up an option for him, but it was a poisoned chalice. Take it, and he might even get the parts made, but he’d have cemented himself as a weak SNCO.

That wasn’t going to happen.

“Just keep working on the printer. And as soon as it’s up, you start on our requisition. No bumping it down the queue.”

“Of course not, Sergeant Major. You’ll be first in line.”

She smiled sweetly at him, but she couldn’t hide the glint of victory in her eyes. Rev ignored that, spun around, and with Tomiko following, stormed back toward the recalcitrant printer.

“What a bitch,” Tomiko said. “I wanted to slap that silly grin off her face.”

“She was enjoying herself, that’s for sure. All the posturing, though, that’s just part of the dance.”

“Dance?”

“We’re settling in for the long haul. How our relationships pan out is gonna have pretty serious long-term implications.”

“And so, we need to establish ourselves, or we’re going to be their doormats.”

Rev sighed. They did need to establish themselves. It didn’t have to be that way, though. He’d been on plenty of ships where the Navy crew and embarked Marines cooperated for the good of the mission.

The petty officer saw them return and stood up to face them. He raised an eyebrow in a question.

Rev shook his head.

“I dint tink she’d change er mind,” he said with the clipped accent of the Far Reaches. “Sorry.”

“Find out how many foreign nationals are in the crew,” he told Punch.

It didn’t really matter. The Union Marines had foreign nationals in the Corps, like Tiwari. And there were sixty-seven non-Marines in the combat element on the ship. But knowledge was power, and he never knew what little tidbit might prove valuable sometime in the future.

“Do you know what’s wrong with the printer?”

The petty officer shrugged. “We’re lookin. It’s brand-fuckin new, it is. No reason to quit on us like dat.”

“Did you get any MD-43s before it quit?”

The petty officer—L’Daz, the nametag on his overalls said—shook his head and pulled out a small, unrecognizable piece of plastic. “Dis it what came out. Dree of dem. Den, notin.”

“Hey, Baz! I found something,” the other sailor said as he pulled himself out of the control panel.

All three turned to him. The Third Class studied the readout on his small scanner for a moment, then said, “The comb’s shot.”

L’Daz shook his head. “It’s crystal, Jake. It don’t get shot.”

“That’s what it says here,” he said, then pulled out a large panel from the printer’s base.

He studied the panel for a moment before he pulled out a module. He studied it for a moment before L’Daz took it from him, then hooked up a small interrogator cable to the jack.

“Well, shit. It’s corrupted,” he said.

“I told you that,” Jake replied.

“You said it’s crystal?” Rev asked. “How can it be corrupted?”

“It can’t. But it is.”

He flipped it up where it tumbled until landing inside the trash can.

“Three points,” both Rev and Jake said.

Crystals either worked or they didn’t. They could fail for any number of reasons, but getting “corrupted” wasn’t something you said about crystals. Maybe in the Far Reaches, the word had a slightly different meaning.

“Punch, do you have the failure rate on a module like that?”

<That’s either a D-10065-3 or a D-10032 comb. You’d have to take a closer look at the housing stamp to be sure, but both have very similar numbers. According to the data, there is a failure rate of 0.034 percent within the first six months.>

“Can they be corrupted, like the petty officer said?”

<Failure is usually physical. A strong enough shock, for example, can crack or shatter a crystal matrix.>

“My AI says that there’s only a 0.034 percent chance that the comb would fail so soon.”

Jake gave the slightest flinch at “AI.” Very few sailors were given embedded AIs. There was no reason to, and that was a stark reminder that even within the military, some people had a problem with any kind of augments.

“It’s sure low like dat,” L’Daz said.

<But there is a small percentage of crystals where impurities get into the growth stage. That can cause the matrix to form in what could be described as corruption, in a general sense. Across the board in all applications, that affects over two percent of Level 3 or below crystals.>

“Could that have happened here?”

<That is doubtful. Such cases are quickly identified within hours. This printer, while new, is much older than that.>

“So, the infection, or whatever you want to call it, could have somehow gotten in recently?”

<It’s a sealed module. There isn’t an obvious entry point for contaminants.>

“We’ve got three of them,” Jake said, looking up from his main display.

“Let’s think more on this later,” he told Punch before paying attention again to what was going on.

“You go get it while I put in de requisition,” Petty Officer L’Daz said before he turned to Rev and Tomiko. “Lucky. I wasn’t sure dere were de parts.”

“Will this fix the printer?” Tomiko asked him.

“Should. We’ll see soon enough.”

“Does anyone have access to the printers when they’re not in use?” Rev asked.

“Access? You mean is dis space secure? No, not really. Half of the crew probably can come in.”

“That comb. I know it’s sealed. But could someone, you know, break that seal?”

L’Daz laughed at that. “I’m a fabrication mate. We’ve got machinist mates and all sorts of ratings who could do dat. Why?”

Tomiko gave him a questioning look.

“I was just wondering. I mean, if someone wanted to shut down a printer, then wrecking something like that comb thing could take the whole printer out of action.”

“Well, sure. But why? We’re going to need dem to make what we need.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” Rev said. “I just don’t understand the why do it part.”

“Well, at least we know what’s wrong. And as soon as Jake gets back wit de new comb, we’ll run your requisition.”

“Yeah, thanks. Hey, if you need anything from us, you come talk to Gunny Pelletier here or me, OK?”

“Sure ding, Sergeant Major.”

Rev and Tomiko thanked the petty officer and headed back.

“Do you think someone purposely wrecked that comb?” Tomiko asked after they got out of earshot.

“No, I guess not. I mean, to what end? To shut down one printer? All that would do is make it a pain in the ass for everyone. Sometimes, it’s the most improbable thing that happens, I guess.”

“Lucky there were spares,” Tomiko said. “It’s a long way to the nearest supply house.

“Yeah, lucky.”

After seeing Agent Wolf two days back, Rev was probably overly suspicious. But while he didn’t trust the man, he couldn’t think of any possible reason the agent would have sabotaged a printer, of all things.

Let the conspiracy theories go, Reverent. You’ve got real problems with Umman and his minions to handle. Work on those instead of making things up.

5

Agent Wolf faded into the background in the buildup to their first mission. The task force emerged from bubble space at the outskirts of NP-2143, one of the systems explored by the fleet of scout pilots who conducted the search for the Naxli home planet.

NP-2143 was a Class G3 star with four planets outside the known areas of any alien civilization. None of the planets had an atmosphere, and the scout pilot detected no signs of life. It had nothing much to offer humanity and was a long way from anything.

In other words, it was perfect.

Every operation could use a rehearsal, be it a military operation or civilian expedition, and NP-2143 offered the location to conduct one without outside distractions. And with the hodgepodge nature of the task force, this was a tremendous opportunity for a shakedown, to work out the kinks and develop the coordination and procedures for subsequent missions.

“You ready?” Rev asked Vasseur but taking in the entire squad with his glance.

They looked small and almost naked to Rev, something that was a little difficult to get used to. Whereas the Marines were in their PALs, which were rigged for vacuum ops, the Legionnaires had their mail suits, which looked like some sort of Carnival fish costume. With loggerhead turtle DNA in their blood and O2 cellular banks, a Legionnaire could survive for hours without supplemental oxygen and only needed small tanks to supply what was needed for longer operations. And the fish scale mail allowed them to survive a vacuum and retain body heat.

A space-modified Legionnaire in fish scale mail armor massed about 150 kg when compared to a Marine in a PAL’s 900 kg. It freaked Rev out a little to see them like that and knowing they’d be exposed to a planet without an atmosphere.

“Born ready,” the sergent chef answered while his Legionnaires barked out their “hi-yahs.”

Rev’s career, from the Raiders to the Home Guard to First Human Expeditionary, always had him at the tip of the spear. And being an IBHU kept him in the thick of things at a much more senior rank than had he’d been a straight-leg infantryman. But it still felt weird having Hégémonie Legionnaires leading Marines in a landing. But the Legionnaire hyper-augments were the best vacuum soldiers he’d seen, so there’d been no question why they’d be the point for the insertion.

“We’ll be going soon,” Rev said.

“That’s what they’ve been telling us for the last three hours,” Vasseur said.

Rev shrugged. “You know how it is. Hurry up and wait.”

The exercise officially kicked off more than sixteen hours ago, with the Wahoo and Strike Eagle sending out drone scouts ahead of the naval advance through the system. Four hours ago, the ground force moved into position to insert . . . and then sat on their butts.

After three hours, Rev took off his helmet and went to the bridge to see if he could find out what was happening. He didn’t get the full picture, but it looked like there was a disagreement between Captain Bane and Dr. Njuguna. The good doctor evidently wanted a “peaceful approach,” to use her terminology. But Captain Bane insisted on a measured, security-forward approach.

And in this case, the captain had precedence. Security fell to him and his MDS counterpart. Besides, he owned the landing craft and shuttles that would take the civilians to the surface.

To slow down the exercise even more, one of the chiefs told Rev that the captain was sticking it to Njuguna by adding more security milestones to the process.

Meanwhile, the Marines on the Galaxy Explorer and the Wahoo, as well as the MDS karnans and Bugattis on the Strike Eagle and Rangers on the Loup-Garou were sitting around, cooling their jets.

Rev hadn’t thought that this exercise would go off without a hitch, but he didn’t think it would be delayed because of a pissing contest between the military and civilians.

It wasn’t a good portent of things to come.

The ground forces had no say in the goings on, though, and they wouldn’t until they left their ships. It was suck-it-up-and-endure time.

But all bad things come to an end—not really, but Rev liked to think so—and finally, they received their fifteen-minute warning.

There was a flurry of movement as Marines shifted their body position, woke from naps, or otherwise got mentally prepared. Rev felt a little surge of the excitement he normally felt before going into battle. This may be an exercise, but too many years of doing this had imprinted the process into his mind, like a mental version of muscle memory.

He listened in as the squads reported in to the platoons, then the platoons to the company.

“You take care of yourself, Rev,” Tomiko passed on the P2P.

He swung around, scanning the hangar deck until he spotted her by the launch cell. He raised his gauntleted right hand in a wave.

She was not going planetside—and she was pissed. She’d been working closely with the civilian engineers in becoming familiar with the Lamix perimeter security barrier, and this was going to be her first opportunity to be part of an installation in real life. She’d only found out a few hours ago that she was being left behind.

There was no medical reason that she couldn’t make the landing, so Rev thought it was punishment for not telling the major or Bundy she was pregnant. He hadn’t asked, probably because he didn’t want to find out it was Bundy who’d stooped to that.

Tomiko returned the wave, and Rev followed his stick into the shuttle, then strapped in the simple web seat—there was no full combat harness in this craft.

The Legionnaires were landing in an Ika, which was a small, barebones Mezame Special Forces insertion craft. Pilotless, it could only carry fourteen combat naval infantrymen, but it was extremely stealthy. Vasseur and his squad would be acting almost as pathfinders, checking the landing site to make sure it was safe for the follow-on forces.

The planet was unoccupied, of course, so in this case, it was known to be safe. But the purpose of the entire exercise was to work out an SOP for future missions.

“The Ika is away,” came over the general net. “Second wave, stand by for launch.”

By habit, Rev ran a quick check of his Marines. Everyone was green.

“Systems check?” he then asked Punch.

<All systems green. Power is at ninety-eight-point one. No missiles and no twenty-millimeter rounds.>

Rev scowled at the last. He wasn’t expecting any type of opposition, but without rounds, his twenty-millimeter cannon was just a paperweight.

He didn’t like to go anywhere unarmed. At least, with his power levels, his meson cannon was operable should the need arise.

Rev was in the third shuttle of the first wave. All five quickly launched, and Rev felt the familiar bump in his pulse rate. But then things quickly slowed down. They would move into a geosynchronous orbit over the planet and wait for Vasseur and his team to give them the OK to land.

And that could take a while.

Rev sunk back into his seat. “How ‘bout some music, Punch?”

A moment later, the steady beat of Red Boys filled his hearing as he settled in for the wait.

* * *

“How’s it going?” Rev asked Kelly over the P2P as he walked up on her.

“It’s not as easy as it was on the sims. And the leeches aren’t explaining much.”

Rev frowned slightly. In the spirit of cooperation, Bundy wanted the Marines to get away from things like using pejorative nicknames for the civilians, but years of habit were hard to break.

He didn’t say anything, though, and leaned in to see how far her team had gotten in the process. In future operations, it would be up to the military to emplace the Lamix barrier, but this time, the civilian engineers had accompanied the Marines to supervise the installation. Kelly’s team had been assigned to provide the manpower, and with Tomiko still on the ship, she was in charge. But she hadn’t spent as much time as Tomiko had in understanding the barrier.

She should have, though.

Kelly knew already she should have, so he left it at that.

“That’s why we’re rehearsing. After this, it’ll be easy peasy.”

“We’re not combat engineers,” she grumbled.

“We’re jack-of-all-trades now, Kel. You know that.”

“Keenan! Not like that!” she shouted over the team net, which Rev was monitoring, as she jumped forward where the lance corporal was trying to emplace one of the projectors, just beating the civilian trainer to him.

Rev didn’t know what Lance Corporal Keenan was doing wrong.

Maybe you’d better learn a little more about the Lamix yourself, Reverent.

A sergeant major didn’t have to know how to do every job his Marines performed, but if he did, he could better anticipate problems or get his Marines help when needed.

“Set me up with an overview on the Lamix,” he told Punch.

<That’s a good idea.>

The corner of Rev’s mouth twerked down. Punch had taken to occasionally offering judgments on what Rev did or said. In all the years his battle buddy had been embedded in his brain, Punch had not shown either that kind of initiative or judgment.

Rev wasn’t sure what he thought of that. He ignored the comment and stepped closer to see what Keenan had done.

The Lamix was a commercial barrier. This was one of Wygate’s, the major terraforming company in the Perseus Union sector of space. It consisted of a central control and power station, then any number of projector pylons. The pylons projected the actual barrier field between each other, protecting the humans inside the perimeter.

A few militaries had their own versions of them to protect defensive positions, but they were not effective against armored soldiers. Any Marine in a PAL could walk right through the barrier. But against native wildlife and more primitive sentient beings? They could be very effective. And as planets with an O2-based atmosphere were far cheaper and quicker to terraform, and as quite a few of them had existing life forms, the barriers had been used many times to protect the terraforming crews. And even now, when environmental laws started protecting planets with Grade-3-level and above life, the barriers protected scientific teams studying a planet.

Kelly finished correcting Keenan and then returned to Rev. “I know everyone’s waiting on us, but it’s better we do it right than rush and do a half-ass job.”

“Like I said, this is training. Let the lea . . . the civvies wait a bit until we’ve got it right.”

“Well, I’ve got to start on the readings. One bad synch could shut down an entire section.”

“You do what you’ve gotta do, Kelly. I’m just observing.”

Rev watched her hurry off. He hadn’t objected to her taking her time, and he knew it was the right thing to do. But the rest of the company was just sitting on their asses, watching for imaginary threats, and the civilian team had to be chomping at their bits to get down and onto the surface. Nothing could proceed, though, until the damn Lamix barrier was up and functioning.

* * *

“The perimeter is set,” the major passed to Bundy on the command net.

It had taken twice as long to erect the barrier than planned, but with it up now and the military force in position, the civilian side of the task force could land and do their thing.

“Roger that. I’ll relay that to Njuguna.”

“What posture do you want?”

Bundy hesitated a moment, then said, “We’re not going to run ourselves ragged, but I want to instill in everyone that security is paramount. Let’s go to a fifty-percent alert status.”

“I’m on it,” the major said before cutting the connection.

Rev turned to the center of the position. About twenty civilians were huddled in what the military would call a school circle alongside the still-bundled expeditionary shelter. They should have been already erecting it, according to the plan.

“You do know that they’re not going to be staring out into the distance, waiting for a threat, right?” he asked Bundy on the P2P.

The Marine ground force commander said, “They’ll be watching our civilian friends, I know. But we need to establish our SOP.”

“Understood. But I was thinking. Maybe we could have made an aggressor force? We can still do it. Send out the Legionnaires or Rangers and have them probe the lines. Keep our guys and the karnans on their toes.”

“Now, you suggest that?”

“Just thought of it, to be honest.”

“It’s a good idea, Rev. I should have thought of it myself. But it’s too late. I don’t want to try and slap this together now. But let’s keep that in our back pocket for next time.”

“Roger that. So, just sit and watch?”

“That’s what I’ll be doing. I’ll be amazed if they keep it on schedule.”

“I’d bet my firstborn son that it’ll take them twenty hours,” Rev said. “You saw how long it took for the Lamix to be erected.”

There was another moment of silence. Tomiko had announced her pregnancy just before they dropped out of bubble space, and Bundy was a little peeved that he’d been kept in the dark. Rev had just used a common saying and had not intentionally referred to the twins.

And for a moment, he thought he’d stepped over the line.

But then Bundy said, “You ready to put up some credits? That’s twice as long as their planned schedule. I think they’ll beat that.”

“Twenty?” Rev offered, glad they were speaking money now and not pregnant wives.

“Thirty.”

Thirty was a little steep for Rev’s blood, but what else was he going to be spending money on?

“Thirty it is.”

* * *

Rev wandered over to the shelter, which was finally up, but still unpressurized. It had been twelve hours since his bet with Bundy, but right now, he’d be willing to lose the bet if he could just get inside for a few moments. Part of the lining of his helmet must have come free, and it kept brushing the back of his head. It had been a little bothersome, like a fly that kept landing on his head, but that had elevated to positively annoying over the intervening hours. He’d tried smashing his head back to flatten it, but that had been futile. Now, he was aching to get his helmet off and fix the darn thing.

“How long before it’s pressurized?” he asked one of the engineers.

“If they’d give us the OK, another hour. But these damn civilians can’t make a decision to save their lives,” he said while pointing to where a dozen other civilians were standing deep in conversation.

Rev gave the man another look. He was in a civilian vacuum suit himself.

“You ex-military?”

“Seabee. Thirty-three years. Retired as a senior chief.”

“So, why are you here as a leech? No disrespect intended.”

“Couldn’t make master chief, so I retired. But I was bored, and when I heard about this at the VGW, I put in for it. And here I am.”

“That’s a pretty long unretirement.”

“Eh, no family to speak of. Divorced, and the daughter doesn’t acknowledge me. Thinks I’m a warmonger from when we fought you Persies.”

That took Rev by surprise. From his accent and his mention of the Seabees, he’d assumed the man was Union.

“Who on the MDS side has Seabees?” he asked Punch.

<The Freedom Confederation has them.>

The FC had aligned themselves with the MDS during the war, and Rev had fought them on Armadillo. It had been an FC staff-captain who’d saved Rev’s ass when he was a POW.

“You FC?”

The now-civilian nodded.

It was weird that the same people Rev had fought and even killed before were now his allies, but the tides of alignments had shifted so many times during his career that he was used to it by now. And he’d always had a degree of respect for the FCs. They’d picked the wrong side, but they’d been honorable in their own way.

“Well, I’m glad to have some military blood with your guys. Makes me feel a lot better about things,” Rev said.

“Too bad we don’t have anyone at the top, though,” the former Seabee said. “These guys, they’d talk the tail off of a mule before taking one step forward.”

“What’s your best guess?” Rev asked.

“For the CP? Eight hours minimum.”

That made one thing for sure. He wasn’t going to get his helmet off anytime soon. Just the thought made the itch worse.

With a sigh, he turned and headed back to his position in the perimeter.

He didn’t make it. Halfway there, his PAL lit up with the recall alarm.

“This is not a drill. I repeat, this is not a drill. There has been an incursion into the system. The exercise has been terminated, and all hands are to enact emergency recall measures.”

Rev’s pulse raced as he broke into a sprint. A small part of him wondered if this was Bane pulling something to test their ability to get off a planet. But this was on the general net, which was open to every person on the surface—civilians and military alike. And for Bane to screw around with the MDS . . . well, that would be extremely shortsighted.

The orders were repeated, and the Marines were already in motion by the time Rev reached them. Drill or not, they were getting off the planet.

* * *

It wasn’t a drill. The ship was in general quarters, something that wasn’t done lightly, and the SNCOs were in the chiefs’ mess, watching the screen.

There was another ship in the system, and the fact that it was cloaked was not a good sign. It also made it impossible to determine who the ship belonged to. It couldn’t be painted by any of the task force’s scanners. But it was there.

Even a cloaked ship affected the space around it. There were tiny gravitational fluctuations as well as variations in the visual lines. There was no doubt that a ship was there—or was there. Because of the cloaking, the only scanners that could pick up the tiny disturbances worked at the speed of light, and so they only knew where the ship was eighteen minutes ago. And they knew it was coming toward them.

In-system combat relied on powerful AIs that predicted where an enemy ship might be. The Wahoo, Strike Eagle, Akaei, and Loup-Garou were combatants with the weaponry to take the fight to the other ship, but was it the enemy?

The MDS colonel-captain thought it was and wanted to engage. Both Bane and Njuguna held back, though. They wanted confirmation first that the ship was a threat. But Captain Bane wasn’t just going to meekly sit and wait. All six ships in the task force were underway, maneuvering into position to meet the potential threat.

On the screen, the unknown ship didn’t seem to take notice of the maneuvering of the task force ships. That could mean it was powerful enough to not consider the humans a threat. It could also mean that it didn’t realize the other ships were setting the kill zone. It kept an unerring approach that seemed aimed at the Galaxy Explorer.

“Think we should just blast it?” Strap asked.

“If we take it under fire, that’ll definitely make it an enemy combatant,” Rev said.

“And if we keep waiting until it fires on us . . .”

“We’ve got some pretty good shielding,” Rev said. “We can probably withstand quite a bit of punishment before they fail.”

“It’s that ‘probably’ bit that bothers me,” Strap said.

“And the second it opens up, the fire control AIs will be working out firing missions for the other ships. It would be suicide,” Tomiko said.

“I just hate being blind,” Rev said. “I don’t want it to be their opening up on us that reveals their exact position.”

“Who has cloaking like that? Can one of you ask your battle buddies?” Vasseur asked.

“Already did that,” Rev said. “Punch said it most likely isn’t human, and nothing matches what we know of the noxes.”

Which didn’t mean much, he knew. There were twenty-three sentient alien species known to humankind so far. But what else was out there? Finding that out was one of their missions. It just seemed weird that they’d find a new race on their first destination, and one that was supposed to just be a training run.

“I wish I was a fly on the wall in the CIC,” Strap said.

As soon as the words were out of his mouth, the other SNCOs turned to pin Rev with their gazes.

“This is my battle station for general quarters,” Rev started to protest. “They don’t want me to . . .”

His voice trailed off. Maybe they were right. The chiefs’ mess was his GQ muster point, but he was a sergeant major, second only to the command master chief. He didn’t think they’d kick him out if he took a little gander that way.

He glanced at Tomiko, who gave him a slight nod.

“Well, I guess I could head over to see what’s up,” he said.

“Just make sure you come back and spill it to us,” Master Sergeant Tye Klipsinger, Bundy’s operations chief said.

“I’ll be back.”

Rev left the mess, then made his way to the CIC.

Popular culture had it that a Navy ship was controlled in the bridge. But a bridge on a naval spaceship was somewhat of an anachronism, mostly used in ships that could also make planetfall. As with most naval ships, the heart of the Galaxy Explorer was in the center and most protected part of the ship, which in the Perseus Union Navy was called by the historic term, the Combat Information Center, or CIC for short.

A gunner’s mate was standing watch at the hatch into the CIC, but when she spotted Rev, she waved him inside. The tension was palpable as sailors were glued to their displays and controls.

The large captain’s chair was empty. Captain Bane, Dr. Njuguna, Bundy, and several others in the leadership were gathered at the bare conference table in the center. Rev quietly made his way around the CIC and stood by the command chair where he could hear what was going on. Bundy—the only Marine in the space—saw him and gave him a quick nod.

Captain Bane, Dr. Njuguna, Bundy, and a handful of the other task force leaders were huddled around the large table in the middle of the CIC. Dr. Hyung seemed to be trying to convince Bane that this might be a first contact, one of their prime objectives, and that they could not afford to take an aggressive stance.

Rev quietly made his way around the CIC and stood by the command chair where he could hear what was going on. Bundy—the only Marine in the space—saw him and gave him a quick nod.

“Captain, you’re going to want to see this,” one of the sailors behind Rev shouted.

No one at the table reacted. Hyung was still going on about the opportunity, and they didn’t seem to have heard.

Rev turned around. The sailor was standing at her station, pointing to the monocle over one of her eyes while looking anxious.

“CAPTAIN BANE!” she shouted, her voice piercing across the space. “I’ve got contact, and I think it’s the bogey!”

That shut up the CIC. The leadership exchanged glances for an instant before they jumped up en masse to rush the operator. Rev had the advantage of position, and he kept that, reaching the sailor first. He also had the advantage of size. Even without his IBHU, he was bigger and stronger than any of them.

Captain Bane pushed his way to the sailor. “Put it on your display.”

The screen on her console flickered, then came on, revealing a small, otter-like alien surrounded by what looked like a dozen more.

“By the Mother,” Rev muttered while the others stood in shocked silence.

The visuals were two-way, and the alien seemed to perk up. Behind him (her?), one of the others performed a backflip.

“Captain—” the one in the center started to speak before it stopped and seemed to look Rev in the eye. “Eeyah!” he chirped. “Strong Bough Pelletier, it is good to see you. Many greetings.”

The sailors and civilians turned to look at Rev, and several shifted slightly away from him, giving him a bubble of space.

Rev’s mouth dropped open. “Strong Bough” was the nickname given to him by the Breel. Never in a million years would he have expected to be in a new system with an approaching bogey, only to have a Kanter greet him with his Breel anointed title

* * *

Tomiko saw Rev as he entered the mess and waved him over.

“So, I’m assuming the scuttlebutt’s true? The approaching ship was lemming? And they’re joining us?”

Several of the other Marines heard her and stopped their work, all eyes—and ears—locked on him.

Rev almost pulled the “word will be passed when appropriate” BS, but then he figured, why not? Everyone would know soon enough, and who were they going to tell? They were a long way from Titan.

“They are lemmings,” he said as the working party broke into muted exclamations. “As to if they’re gonna join us, well, that’s up to the brass. Not us. When I left, they were still waiting for some sort of decision from the CoH.”

“Screw the CoH,” Kelly said. “I’d say it’s our call, and I want them with us. Good fighters.”

Rev agreed. He’d always liked the diminutive warriors, and they represented a potential leap in firepower. But this was a decision that went well beyond the tactical footprint of the task force. This had inter-species ramifications.

And as they’d discovered with the Sia, that could have far-reaching consequences that were not even close to being understood now.

“I’d like to say they’ll let us know before too long, but the gears on Titan turn slowly.”

He didn’t say that the Kanter commander had recognized him. It was still somewhat surreal. No, not “somewhat.” Extremely surreal.

He’d share that with Tomiko when he could get her alone. It would get out soon enough. The people in the CIC had already reacted to the short greeting, giving him an almost wary berth along with continual side glances. The rest of the ship, and probably the task force, would find out what the Kanters said as quickly as gossip could spread.

What’s Wolf gonna think? he wondered as he realized the Omega agent hadn’t been there when it happened.

But he’d be on that like a fly on shit. That kind of thing was right up his alley.

“Do you think Wolf will suspect I had anything to do with this?” he asked Punch.

<By the nature of his job, he needs to be suspicious of all seeming coincidences, and he will most like consider the possibility that there is something more to this.>

“Oh, great.”

Kelly and some of the others were trying to ask him for details, and he wasn’t ready for that. He wanted to stick his head together with Tomiko to figure out how to handle this unasked-for notoriety.

He needed to change the subject.

“Is that the entire barrier?” he asked. “No problems with the retrieval?”

When the Kanters had appeared in the system and the ground personnel recalled, there hadn’t been time enough to retrieve the Lamix barrier. They had two others, so they could afford to lose one, but it was a long way to a resupply, so while the brass dealt with the Kanter issue, Major White Eagle had requested permission to send the team back down to recover the one they’d left.

It was a good call. The entire barrier set was safely aboard the ship, and there didn’t seem to be any sort of decision made yet about the Kanters.

He could tell that the Marines had more questions, but he’d just asked a direct query, and that required a direct answer.

“No problems, Sergeant Major. Picking up and packing the system away is easy compared to setting it up. We don’t have to bother with synching anything.”

“There’re still shut-down procedures and maintenance that we have to do here,” Tomiko added. “And I’m on those.”

“If you’ve got a moment, can you give me the rundown on what still has to be done?”

He really didn’t care about the barrier at the moment. If Kelly said the entire thing made it back on board, and if Tomiko said she had a handle on whatever other procedures had to be performed, that was good enough for him. He just wanted to get his wife aside and get her take on what had happened.

He didn’t get the chance.

Before she could answer, his wristcomp buzzed, and the IMC announced, “Sergeant Major Pelletier, please report to CIC.”

Tomiko raised a single eyebrow, which was one of the most unnerving things she did around him. He could never interpret exactly what she was saying when she did that, only that it was big.

“We’ll talk,” he told her before he hurried off.

* * *

Kelly and her team could have emplaced and retrieved the Lamix barrier six more times while the task force waited in the system. Rev could only imagine what was going on back with the various power brokers in human space. From what he could glean, there was a small but vocal minority who were adamant that the Kanters not be allowed to join the task force.

Most of them were among the growing human-first movements, but it also included the Sia-worshipping, galactic-focused groups. Except that both extremes disapproved of the hyper-augments, they were on opposite ends of the political spectrum. And they had differing reasons for opposing the Kanters inclusion.

The human first-types didn’t trust them and wanted whatever supposed riches and valuable planets the task force might discover to remain in human hands. The second types not only believed that the task force bordered on being an abomination—its only saving grace was that it cleansed humanity of the greater abomination of hyper-augments and Genesians—they also believed the Kanters made a mockery of their Sia-centric and uplifting beliefs, and humanity should never cooperate with them.

The Kanters made a mockery of everything, so that part was true. But Rev thought all of this was ridiculous. They couldn’t keep the Kanters from following them unless they wanted to risk war. They’d been able to follow the task force to NP-2143, which had been a highly classified designation. They’d approached with a cloaking system that exceeded human capabilities. And Rev thought that if Titan said no, they’d just make a game of it and dog the Exile Fleet wherever it went.

Sixteen Kanters, along with the commanders of four other ships—the Genesian leader had declined the request—had come to the Galaxy Explorer, and that was why Rev had been called back to the CIC. The Kanters had insisted that they meet with the “friend of the Kanters,” Strong Bough Pelletier. It seemed that his actions during the battle on Lemmingville had put him on the Kanter radar long ago, and somehow, his Breel nickname had elevated him once more in their eyes.

So, Rev had played babysitter/tour guide, keeping the Kanters busy while a steady stream of Q-grams shot back and forth between the lonely system in empty space and humanity.

Agent Wolf had been welded to his hip during all of this, which was a pretty strong indication that the task force leaders knew exactly who the man was. He was pleasant with Rev, and he didn’t pull him aside to interrogate him, but Rev could feel the man’s eyes on him at all times.

Five days after the Kanters made their surprise appearance, the word came down. The Kanters were going to accompany the task force. While they would take part in all missions, they would not be under the command of Dr. Njuguna. They would cooperate as they deemed fit. Twenty-three Kanters cross-decked to the Explorer to act as a liaison.

Three hours after the decision had been promulgated, Task Force left 30-19 NP-2143. The training was over. The mission was beginning in earnest.

6

“Rub my feet,” Tomiko said.

Rev put down his pad and turned around. Tomiko was on the lower bunk and looking miserable. She didn’t even shift her feet off the bunk, so Rev scooted his chair over, took her ankles, and swung her feet to his lap.

He started massaging the sole of her left foot with his organic hand, but she said, “No, your left hand. Use that one.”

Even at only seven months, Tomiko was huge, and she was extremely, extremely uncomfortable. She spent a couple of hours each day in the propulsion spaces, which didn’t have artificial gravity, to take the stress off of her small body, but that gave only temporary relief.

Rev never voiced it, but he wondered if it wasn’t just military convenience that Marines were given anti-pregnancy implants. Tomiko had so many hyper-augments in her body that womb aside, the modifications had to make something like a pregnancy difficult.

Both Ten and Udu had given birth, but Ten’s augments had been removed while she went through the resurrection process, and Udu never had the hyper-augments that Tomiko received as an IBHU.

He and Punch had discussed it, but Punch hadn’t been able to find much written on the subject. Whatever the issue, his wife was suffering far more than he remembered his mother suffering with Neesy.

And it didn’t help that he didn’t have as much time with her as he would have wanted. Since leaving NP-2143, the task force had been on a rapid pace of exploration, moving farther and farther into the outward reaches of the galaxy. They’d explored eleven new systems, all cataloged by the scouts searching for the Naxli homeworld.

None had proven to be of anything other than scientific interest. No signs of life. No signs of commercially rich resources. Each one was treated as a military invasion, though, as they cleared the way for the civilian side of the house to do their thing.

Rev didn’t want to encounter a hostile sentient civilization. He didn’t want to fight a battle, especially as with his twin daughters coming, he’d felt the twinge of potential mortality.

But the fact of the matter was that he was bored. Prepare. Debark. Land. Set up. Sit around with their fingers up their butts. Pack up. Embark.

Rinse and repeat.

Face it. He was bored. He might as well be a civilian working for one of the megacorps.

“Ow! Easy, there, big boy,” Tomiko said as she jerked back her foot. “You daydreaming?”

“Oh, sorry. I just . . . ah, I don’t know.”

“When’s the next landing?” she asked as she hesitantly extended the foot again.

“We drop in another three hours. So, twenty hours or so, give or take.”

“What’s the intel on this one?”

In her present condition, exacerbated by headaches that suddenly came upon her, she’d been out of the loop for several months now. Kelly had taken over most of her duties.

“Same thing. No signs of life. Potential mineral deposits, though.”

“We knew the first ones would be low potential,” Tomiko said. “They want us to gel more.”

“We’re doing pretty well in that regard, Miko. I’ve told you that. And pretty soon, we’re gonna lose some of our escorts.”

The Galaxy Explorer, the MDS Strike Eagle, and the Genesian’s Star Gala were on one-way missions. The Rangers, who’d first cross-decked to the Strike Eagle, and then when that fell apart, switched to the Akaei, were also exiled. None of them were going back. But the other ships that had been added to the task force were in a different situation. They were on normal, if far-reaching, deployments. Rev might be exaggerating about losing them soon. The Wahoo, for example, with its crew and embarked Marines, would be with them for a total of three years.

Even aboard the Galaxy Explorer, not everyone was exiled. The entire civilian crew would be rotated home at some point, at least while it was still possible.

That had become the larger divide aboard the ship. It wasn’t civilian versus military so much as exile versus returnees. Even within the military, there were two castes: the hyper-augments and the rest. The hyper-augments had no choice. The rest were volunteers, and that difference, although rarely voiced, was always there.

Rev bent back to his task and switched to Tomiko’s other foot. She gave a small groan of contentment a moment before there was a rap on the door.

The groan turned into a sigh, and she swung her legs back onto the bed.

“Enter!” Rev said.

The door dilated, revealing Tiwari in the passage outside their stateroom.

“The major wanted me to remind you of the pre-drop brief.”

“I’ll be there. Thanks.”

He knew about the brief, and Punch wouldn’t let him miss the meeting. And he could have received the reminder via his wristcomp. But with all the time being spent aboard the ship, it was the leadership’s task to keep the troops busy.

Rev wasn’t sure that assigning Marines as messengers was an effective way to do that, but the major thought differently. He felt it gave the Marine more proprietorship in what was going on.

“When’s the meeting?” Tomiko asked.

“I’ve still got time,” he said as he reached across to finish the massage.

* * *

“All hands, prepare for drop in fifteen minutes. All required personnel should be at your stations,” came over the 1MC.

Rev looked around hopefully, but no one else seemed to have heard the announcement. The ship’s lieutenant, who’d been talking for forty minutes and counting, never skipped a beat.

Lieutenant Lake, the Rigel hyper-augment navigator, had made his exit over forty-five minutes ago in preparation for dropping out of bubble space, and Captain Bane had left fifteen minutes ago. For the rest of the prisoners . . . attendees . . . of the meeting, they were trapped like flies in amber.

A few of the civilians were glassy-eyed. They obviously still weren’t used to military-grade meetings.

And, as far as he knew, they didn’t have battle buddies like Punch, who could pipe music directly into Rev’s audio cortex. Punch had even offered to play some holovids, but while tempted, Rev decided that was a bridge too far.

Rev had attended meetings for much of his Marine Corps career, but they’d been limited to the company level. It wasn’t until now, as a sergeant major, that he’d discovered the military’s love of meetings, meetings, and more meetings.

This one was actually a pre-drop brief, and with the drop in fifteen minutes, one would think the meeting should be over. But like with most of the others over the last eight months, the scope expanded as others took the opportunity of a captive audience to preach on their favorite subject.

The lieutenant droned on, so Rev pulled up the details of their next target. History was being made here with it. Some scouts had been farther away, but no capital ships had ever sailed this far from the Home System. This was a record that would be broken time and time again in the future, but still, it was more than a little sobering to realize just how far they were from humanity.

NP-3166 had a G-Class star and eight, possibly nine planets. From the available data, it probably supported lower-class life, so for the first time, there would be an extensive scanning effort from orbit of the fifth planet, then anti-contamination procedures would be implemented for the landing.

Rev was a little excited about this landing. There was no reason to think that the planet would offer enough for humanity to claim and terraform it, but at least the planet wasn’t merely barren rocks. And where there was life, anything could happen.

The person on the 1MC counted down the drop. Even the ship’s lieutenant paused for the final ten-second count. Rev felt the familiar disorientation as the ship re-entered normal space. The experts said that was impossible, but as he’d tell anyone who would listen, there was an instant of time when his nose and butt were separated by kiloklicks, stretched according to Z-physics.

There were no alarms, and the lieutenant returned to her three-month plan. Rev would have almost welcomed an emergency if it would get them out of the meeting. But all bad things must come to an end, and the meeting broke up after another seventy-five minutes.

Rev made a beeline to the door and out into the passageway before Major White Eagle could snag him. The combat team commander wasn’t too fond of meetings himself, but it seemed to Rev that he felt he was duty-bound to hold his own. And after a top-level meeting like this one, he might feel the duty to go over what was covered with a lens on how everything would affect the Marines.

He quickly made his way back to chiefs’ country and his stateroom. Kelly and Strap were there with Tomiko, playing a game of Erector. Strap was just about to slide in a crossbeam as Rev entered.

“Took you long enough,” Tomiko said.

“The ship’s lieutenant took over. She and one of the engineers,” he said, shaking his head as he stopped and stared down over the gamepad. From the colors of the various pieces in the virtual skyscraper, it looked like Kelly was killing it.

“Better you than me,” Tomiko said.

She’d been sitting on the edge of the lower rack, and with Rev’s entrance, she leaned back and with a grunt, scooted against the stacked pillows.

“Do you want to take over for me?” she asked.

Rev was actually pretty good at the game, but it was close to finishing, and there was no way he could catch up to Kelly.

“I’ll pass. My brain’s fried right now.”

“How about Knock-on?” Strap asked.

“That’s mindless enough to be a little better. Miko?”

“I guess I’m up for that,” she said as she scooted herself back to the edge of the rack.

Eight hands later, Rev was trailing each of the other three, and as he contemplated which suit to lead with, his wristcomp buzzed.

“By the Mother, another damned meeting?” he said after reading the message.

He looked up, only now realizing that all of their wristcomps had alerted.

“Company CP?” he asked them.

All three nodded.

“Well, we’d better get there, then.”

Rev helped Tomiko out of the rack, then the three made their way down to the company CP, which was a small space on the D-deck. As big as the Galaxy Explorer was, there wasn’t much in the way of office spaces.

All of the company SNCOs and officers were crowded inside the space, which made things tight.

“Do you know what this is about?” Vasseur asked Rev.

“Got me. I was just in a four-hour pre-drop brief, but nothing was said there that would initiate another meeting here. Maybe we’ll be going over quarantine procedures. I guess we’ll find out soon enough, though.”

They wouldn’t hit the surface of their target planet for at least three days, though, after the orbital scanners did their thing, so it might be a little early to be going over procedures before they knew what they’d be doing.

It was seven minutes before White Eagle and Bundy showed up. Rev hadn’t expected his friend to show up. That put a different slant on things.

It was Bundy who spoke.

“About two hours after dropping into real space, one of the Akaei’s scanners picked up a trace a gigacklick outside the system.”

Rev’s warrior self stirred.

What kind of trace?

“We’ve confirmed the trace with the Strike Eagle and Galaxy Explorer’s systems, and it is artificial. By measuring the dispersion, we’ve determined that the ship . . .”

Ship? This is getting interesting. What kind of ship? One of our allies? Naxli? Someone new?

“. . . that left the trace is traveling in real space and is now a quarter of a light year beyond the system.”

A quarter of a light year is one of those awkward distances. It would take too long to travel that under the impulse engines, but short bubble hops were perversely more inaccurate than longer hops.

“Dr. Njuguna is attempting to contact Titan, but as when we took on the Naxli homeworld, our Q-comms are acting a little wonky. If she can’t get through, she’ll expend a message torp.

“Meanwhile, we are preparing a potential intercept mission.”

No one said a word. The fifth planet in this system and its potential life were forgotten.

“Is this to be considered a combat mission?” Rev asked.

Bundy shook his head. “No. It’s a rescue mission.”

What?

“We do have a signature match. While there has been engine degradation over time, there is no doubt as to the identity of the ship. It’s the PCE Loman’s Haven.”

Who the hell is that, and why is it out here?

Punch didn’t wait for the question.

<The PCE Loman’s Haven is a century ship from the First Expansion. It left Earth two thousand, eight hundred, and twenty-two years ago. It was never found during the round-up and was declared lost one thousand and eighteen years ago.>

“We didn’t anticipate a rescue mission,” Bundy said, “but it looks like it’s fallen into our laps.”

* * *

Nine days later, the entire task force was arrayed surrounding the Loman’s Haven as it continued its journey to nowhere. The ship had been scheduled to reach Golden Reef almost fifteen centuries before, but it never arrived, and the planet had since been settled during the Second Expansion.

Lost century ships hadn’t been rare. Technology wasn’t as advanced back then, and of the 817 ships sent out from Earth, 292 had been lost. During the “round up,” as it was nicknamed, 212 had been found, with about two-thirds still with living passengers aboard. Of the remainder, twenty-six had suffered extensive damage, while the rest were ghost ships, still carrying the remains of their long-dead crew and passengers.

The Loman’s Haven wasn’t a ghost ship. Scanners revealed a heavy concentration of life aboard the huge vessel. But no one had responded to the continual barrage of messages from the ships of the task force.

“Why do you think they’re not answering?” Kelly asked as SNCOs watched the screen in the mess.

“Maybe it’s been so long since they had any communications that they don’t man the comms anymore,” Tsao said.

Which Rev thought was as good an answer as any. The entire ship was a mystery, one that had captured his attention. To think that the ship had been traveling through space for almost three thousand years just boggled his mind.

And being an exile, he felt a weird sort of connection with the ship. Those who first boarded the massive ship off of Ganymede were exiles in their own way. They knew they were on a one-way trip, one that they’d never seen the end of.

“So, what now?” Tomiko asked from where she sat, her feet propped up on a second chair that Rev had placed in front of her.

“We’re going to keep trying to open a line of communications with them,” Rev said. “We need to see what their situation is.”

“Their situation’s probably the same as it’s been for three thousand years. Eat, sleep, make babies,” she said as she patted her own swollen belly.

“But why didn’t they go to Golden Reef? Heron told me it was a Goldilocks planet,” Tsao said.

Heron was Tsao’s battle buddy, and Punch had told Rev the same thing about Golden Reef. He was curious as to what had happened, too. They’d bypassed a viable planet for subsequent generations to live in their enclosed world, cut off from the rest of humanity.

“That’s what we’ll find out once we make contact,” Rev said.

“And if they don’t answer?” Kelly prompted.

“Right now, Dr. Njuguna is leaning toward a physical breach and doing a face-to-face.”

“I’m putting my hat in the ring for that,” Kelly said and was almost immediately followed by all of the others.

Except for Tomiko. She scowled and cupped the bottom of her belly. She knew she wasn’t going anywhere. Rev scooted his chair closer and started to put his arm around her shoulders, but she shrugged him off.

“You’ll be back in the swing of things soon, Miko,” he said quietly so that only she could hear.

“Yeah, while I’m changing diapers and doing midnight feedings,” she snapped.

Kelly heard her and turned around at that. “I’m here to help, Miko.”

“And I’m here, too,” Rev said, taking her hand.

This time, she let him. But she said, “Oh, sure. You’re the sergeant major. You’ve got a job to do. And you, Kel, you’re in charge of the barrier. No, I’m going to be stuck.”

Rev and Kelly caught each other’s eyes. Tomiko was pretty miserable as the twins competed for space among all her augments, and she’d become short-tempered. Punch had assured him that this was normal for an in utero pregnancy, but that didn’t help the situation.

A creche birth would have been far more practical, given the situation. But while the hyper-augments were exiled, they were not intended to reproduce, so there were no creches on the ship. The Genesians had their form of artificial wombs, but Rev and Tomiko had thought of that too late, and there were no assurances that they’d even agree to nurture and grow the fetuses.

Rev looked back up on the screen, and the siren call of the ship set hooks in his soul. He knew he should be comforting his wife, but all he could think of was how he’d make sure he was on the boarding team.

He felt guilty about that, but he swore that come hell or high water, he’d be the one to make contact with the people on that ship.

* * *

“Systems check.”

<All systems green. Power is at ninety-seven-point-four percent. Five hundred rounds of twenty millimeter, no missiles. O2 at ninety-six-point-six percent.>

The twenty-millimeter had been a topic of much discussion. This was not a combat mission. Those were fellow humans in the ship six klicks off the Galaxy Explorer’s port side.

But without prior communications, no one knew how the lost humans would react to their sudden appearance. All of the military would be armed, so it made sense that Rev and the other three IBHUs would be armed as well.

“Ten minutes to launch,” the space boss passed over the hangar’s loudspeakers.

“Team leaders, give me a check,” Rev shouted through his open face shield.

It had taken a little prodding. Captain White Eagle had initially kept him off the boarding team, telling him that sergeant majors don’t take part in missions like this. Rev had reminded him that neither did majors, but as they were both IBHUs, it made sense to maximize firepower, even if this wasn’t a combat mission.

The major couldn’t disagree, not without staying back himself, and Rev knew that wasn’t going to happen. He relented, and Rev was on the team. And not just as an observer. Without a real first sergeant, and with Tomiko unavailable, he took upon himself both of their duties, which included making sure all of the Marines, karnans, and Legionnaires were ready.

Once again, it was Vasseur and his squad who were leading the mission. Rev was having a hard time getting used to that, but he’d accepted the logic. The space Legionnaires were the most qualified to take the breach tube to get into the ship.

There was an issue, though. The ancient century ships used far older technology, and the hulls were much thicker than modern ships. The standard breach tube couldn’t quite make it through most of the hull. So, two of the civilian engineers were going to accompany them to get into the interior of the ship.

One of the yellow shirts started moving the boarding team to their places along the six sleds. Rev watched for a moment before he took his position on the third sled, which was little more than a powered frame from which handles protruded from five sides. At the moment, only three of the sides could be reached by the team members. One was under the frame, and the other was on top. Just before they were to launch, the anti-gravity projectors would be cut, and everyone could reach their handles.

“Five minutes until launch.”

Rev was one of those who couldn’t reach his assigned handle. He positioned himself as close as he could get and tried to judge his angle to jump up and reach it. He sure didn’t want to miss it and have to be retrieved.

He’d never skijored as a means of crossing space before, but it looked easy enough. Grab the handle, lock the hand in, and hold on while the sled towed you across to the target. Punch had told him this wasn’t a true skijor, where people on skis held onto a rope and were towed by a horse or other conveyance, but the similarity to the ancient method had ingrained the term, and that had stuck over the centuries.

The bottom line was that it was a low-tech, low-energy, and efficient method to move people in the vacuum of space. In other words, it was perfect for a civilian-led, peacetime scientific expedition.

“One minute to cutting gravity. Take your positions.”

Rev edged a bit closer, and Tiwari, who would be on Rev’s left, scooted over a bit to give him room.

“Thirty seconds.”

Rev was taller than most people, and his handle was only a meter beyond his reach. But his IBHU was not the best at grasping things, so he was really doing this one-handed.

Maybe one-and-a-half-handed.

“Fifteen seconds until gravity is cut.”

Don’t miss Reverent.

The voice counted down, and at zero, down was no longer down, and up was no longer up. Rev, his eyes locked on his handle—jumped . . . and that was almost his downfall. By jumping, he hit the handle hard, and his body spun around before he could secure his grip. As it was, his legs pedaled beyond the handle as if he could kick his way forward.

<Take it easy. Just ease yourself around.>

Rev took a breath and went limp, except for his gauntleted hand, which was clamped onto the handle. Then slowly, he applied pressure with the hand and levered himself into position.

Once there, he looked around. The sleds had risen off the deck, and after a few moments, everyone except for a single Marine looked to be at their handles. Corporal Howard had missed his handle, and one of the ship’s crew had to fetch him and bring him back. Rev could see the P2P indicator light up. As the senior enlisted, he could cut in and listen, but he held back from what he knew was Howard’s buddies giving him a ration.

It took another forty-five seconds before Howard was in place and everyone else had oriented themselves and were ready to go.

“We need to rehearse this with all hands,” he told Punch. “This wasn’t good enough.”

<Noted.>

All of the scheduled missions so far had included planetfall, and the skijors were useless for that. But things didn’t always go according to plan, as the century ship proved.

“Stand by to launch.”

The red lights at the edge of the curtain started flashing. As soon as they went to a steady green, the sleds would launch themselves.

We look like Christmas ornaments on the scrawniest trees in history.

Rev watched the light, and the moment it went green, the voice said, “Launch,” before adding, “Go introduce yourselves to the neighbors.”

The sled lurched, which worked to align each of them. It passed through the curtain and into space. As was his habit, Rev had Punch run a quick atmospheric check, but his PAL was airtight.

They’d launched from the hangar bay, which, per SOP, was rotated away from the target. But as the sleds came around the ship, Rev’s mouth dropped open in awe. He knew the century ships were huge, but it didn’t really register just how huge. Even six klicks away, the ship dominated his view.

Like some of the First Expansion ships, the Loman’s Haven had been built using an asteroid as the basic building block. The raw asteroid had been towed to the Ganymede shipyards, where the industrial fabricators hollowed out the inside, essentially smelting the nickel and iron into structural features and the silicate rock into a variety of building materials.

The result was a hodgepodge appearance of naked rock and finished metal looking like a ship that was being absorbed by some giant alien rock amoeba. It had been a massive undertaking from when human enthusiasm for settling space was at its peak. The century ships remain to this day the largest structures ever created by humankind.

The most expensive, too. Even with the asteroids’ metals and silicates, there had still been a tremendous amount of equipment and materials necessary to build the ships. Governments had gone bankrupt in their eagerness to join the land rush and not be left behind.

It was their expense that had crashed the First Expansion and kicked off the Blight, the century-long depression that had crippled humankind. It wasn’t until the discovery of bubble space and the ability to navigate within it that interstellar exploration and expansion once again became feasible.

Only a handful of century ships still existed. Most had been raided for equipment and materials at their destinations, exactly as planned. So, to see one of the giant ships was a rare opportunity, especially like this in open space and just a few kilometers away.

The sleds were targeting a section on the aft end of the ship, close to where the engine cowlings emerged. The rocky sections, while perhaps easier to cut, were too thick for the breaching tubes.

Rev finally tore his eyes away from the grandeur of the ship itself and focused on the first sled, which carried the Legionnaires. The Loman’s Haven was not built with self-defense in mind, but the crews of several other ships had built protective systems during their long journeys. The plan was to retreat if they were taken under fire, but if they did hit the first skijor, then Rev was going to act to save them.

But nothing reached out to them, and eighteen minutes after leaving the Galaxy Explorer, the first sled reached the ship. With the other sleds coming to a halt several hundred meters from the target, the Legionnaires and their civilian engineer released their hold and started maneuvering their breach tube into place.

Rev had taken part in several forced-entry missions against other ships and asteroids. All of them had an enemy, be they pirates or Naxli, waiting to stop them. Hopefully, their entry would not be opposed, but nothing was for certain, and Rev had the same feeling of excited anxiety as the Legionnaires emplaced their breaching tube.

They were quick, Rev had to admit. Much quicker than Marines would have been. The tube was set up within a minute, and the cutting commenced. Sparks flew like lava spewing from Mt. Etna for several minutes before they stopped, and the two civilian engineers entered and disappeared from view.

There were no more outward signs of progress. No sparks. But it didn’t take long.

“Breach is achieved,” Vasseur passed on the command net. “We were about four meters short, but Lynel and Jerri cut through the last of the hull lattice. Now we’ve got a few centimeters, and we’ll be inside.”

“Any sign of the passengers?” Bundy asked from where he was monitoring on the Galaxy Explorer.

The noise of cutting through the ship’s hull would have been quite noticeable to those inside the ship.

“Nothing that we’ve noticed.”

They waited for the order to proceed. This was Bundy’s call, not Bane’s nor Njuguna’s.

“Bring up the boarding team and finish the breach,” he ordered.

Yes!

“Sleds Two, Three, and Four, release your hold and move into position. Five and Six, hold fast,” the major passed.

Sled Five carried Marines, but Six was the civilian staff who’d take over once contact had been made.

Rev gently pushed off against his handle and gave his harness boosters a tiny impulse. With forty-five Marines and soldiers converging on the breach opening, it could easily devolve into a clusterfuck, especially as they’d only had a walkthrough in the hangar. Their orders had been to keep it slow and not crowd the breach.

The ship loomed huge, and for a moment, Rev had the illogical feeling that it was going to roll over and crush him. He pushed that aside and eased to a stop a few meters above the hull and ten meters from the opening. There wasn’t room for all of them in the breach tube itself, so his team was going to have to wait until the lead element cleared the tube and was inside the ship before the rest could make their way in.

Tiwari floated into position beside him and gave Rev a thumbs-up.

“Another glorious day in the Marine Corps, huh, Sergeant Major?” he passed on the P2P.

“All days are glorious, Per.”

The lead element entered the tube and disappeared from sight. The major was the third one in. It wasn’t his position, but neither was it Rev’s, so he couldn’t say much. Both of them were using their IBHUs as the reason they were there, but there were other IBHUs available.

Right across the opening, Kelly was settling into position as well. She was the leader of the third team, and as both a gunny and an IBHU, she would have been the normal choice to lead the Marines into the ship.

She’s probably pissed off about that.

But that was all OBE. And soon enough, the operation would shift to the civilians as they met with the humans and decided what to do.

“Team One is in position and ready to enter the ship,” the major passed on the command net.

“Do it,” Bundy passed.

“Here we go, Second Team. First is entering the ship,” Rev passed.

A moment later, Major White Eagle passed, “We’re in.” He paused for a few seconds, then added, “Just as in the plans. These are engineering spaces for drive maintenance.”

“Any sign of the passengers?” Bundy asked.

“That’s a negative. They look deserted. Do we proceed?”

While the Galaxy Explorer was typical of modern ships with decks radiating out from a center, the Loman’s Haven had a distinct bow and stern and with a single artificially-created up and down inside. The aft section was engineering, with the huge impulse engines, tubes, power, and all the other functions necessary to keep the ship running. Forward of engineering was the living area, which was dominated by the enormous central hall, which took up half of the ship with green spaces, farming racks, water features, and pavilions for social gatherings. Living quarters and offices rose up along the sides of the central hall, with more spaces such as the galleys, hospital, school rooms, and recreational spaces forward to the bow of the ship.

The Legionnaires had made the breach in the engineering spaces due to the structure of the hull. It was somewhat surprising that there was no sign of people there. Maintenance crews should be working there. But maybe they weren’t manned around the clock.

“Bring in the rest of the contact team before proceeding forward,” Bundy ordered.

“Civilians?”

Rev didn’t quite roll his eyes. Dr. Njuguna would be listening in to the communications, and the major’s tone didn’t sound very respectful.

“They’re the prime players here, Major. I don’t want you to meet up with the passengers and then have to wait while you fetch them.”

“Roger that.

The major gave the orders, and Rev’s team entered the tube. Within two meters, artificial gravity started to take hold of him, pushing him to one side of it. He shifted around so that he was crawling. It was a tight fit, and his IBHU made it tighter. One of the Legionnaires had to hug the sides to let Rev pass. If he’d been in a PAL or the Legionnaire combat suit , Rev wouldn’t have been able to squeeze past.

“Pretty narrow,” Rev said. “Yancey would be suffering.”

<There have been no changes to this type of tube for ninety-four years. The width has been a limiting factor in the size of the PAL family of combat suits.

“We can’t make bigger PALs because of these?” Rev asked, surprised at what Punch had just said. “We don’t use these tubes very often.”

<Not just the breaching tubes, but yes. This is a standard size for many applications.>

“That doesn’t make sense. It’s the tail wagging the dog.”

<It’s the same as the old Panama Canal on Earth. After it was built, its width became the limiting factor in a ship’s beam.>

Hvarser, who was in front of him, disappeared, revealing another of the Legionnaires crouching at the opening into the ship.

“You’ve got a two-meter drop, Sergeant Major,” the Legionnaire said. “Clear the way for the next one of you.”

Rev barely made it past the Legionnaire and got his first glimpse of the inside of the ship. It looked more like a holovid version of a ship rather than the clean and simple lines of a Navy powerplant. It was mostly dark, with only some lights along consoles illuminated. That was enough for him, though, with his augmented night vision.

He pulled himself forward, then with his right hand grabbing the edge of the opening, he kipped around and dropped to land on his feet. One of the other Legionnaires, 1e Classe Lawson, pulled on his arm and directed him to the side and out of the way.

He spotted the major and headed to him.

“How’s the atmosphere?”

<O2 percentage is fifteen-point-six. Nothing else is remarkable.>

Which made sense. With humans on board, the air should be breathable. And if it was a little short on oxygen, well, that could be expected after three thousand years in space.

That didn’t mean he could retract his face shield. Until there was some intensive testing, they couldn’t know if there were any pathogens in the air.

It wasn’t just to protect the Marines. Over time, the passengers could have developed vulnerabilities for common, otherwise harmless pathogens that the Marines carried.

“Have you decided where we’re going next?” he asked White Eagle.

“There’s the main access into the living section about fifty meters forward of our position. I think that’s where we’re going. It should make it easy.”

“What about these spaces? Are we going to clear them first?”

“We’re not getting any heat signatures in here. And if there is someone, the chances are that the leadership is out there.”

Rev grunted. That made logical sense, but the Marine in him hated leaving an unsecured area behind him. The passengers on the ship weren’t their enemies, but still . . .

It took close to half an hour for the entire boarding party to reach the engineering spaces. Then it was a fairly quick movement to the main door out and into the central hall.

First Team, with the major, positioned themselves to enter. Lance Corporal Leek moved up to try the door. “Jellyroll” was one of the non-IBHU Marines. A former Ranger, like Rev had been, he’d volunteered for the mission. He was from Rebirth, Randigold’s home planet, and unlike some of the charter world Marines, he didn’t have that air of superiority over provincial Marines like Rev, Tomiko, Tsao, and Pierson.

Every eye was locked on him as he tried to undog the door. The ring never budged.

“Ah, it couldn’t be that easy,” Rev muttered.

He turned to look at the major, who then motioned Whiting forward. The engineer studied the door for a moment, then ran some sort of scanner over it.

He and the major huddled together for a moment, but whatever they were saying was over the P2P. Rev couldn’t listen in. Finally, they broke.

“Listen up,” the major passed. “We’re going to blow the door.”

Rev raised his eyebrows. This wasn’t the least dramatic way to force an entry.

“It will be a low-level explosion, which should be enough to release the locking bars. But be ready. We want to move inside and form a quick defensive position before any of the passengers can respond. I want the contact team in the center of the position but in plain sight.

“We are not invading, though. We’re not kicking ass and taking names. Remember that.”

Rev thought a better choice would be to have one of the ship’s engineers make the crossing with something that could cut through the bars that kept the door shut. Then they could simply undog the door and open it. Everyone was excited and hyped to make contact with the long-lost humans, but they’d waited three thousand years—they could wait another hour or so for their rescue.

Whiting reached into his pack and took out what looked to be four 10 X 10-centimeter bandages. Rev had never seen them before, and he edged forward to watch the procedure with interest. The civilian positioned all four on the freestanding side of the door, then placed the edge of what Rev had thought was merely a scanner on each one. The scanner/controller started flashing after the first one, and as soon as he finished, Whiting motioned for everyone to stand back.

“I still don’t think this is a good idea,” he told Punch as he took several steps back.

But he watched, more than a little intrigued by the process. He stole a glance at Whiting, who was staring at his scanner. The light was flashing quicker now.

“Fire in the hole!” he shouted.

Rev turned back just in time to see each of the four patches disappear in a flash of light. Rev’s face shield darkened for a moment, and as his vision returned, it looked like nothing had happened except that there were now four blackened spots on the door.

“Didn’t work,” he said.

Whiting stepped up to the door and scanned it again before raising his left hand and pushing on it. The door swung open.

“I stand corrected,” he said, totally impressed.

With very little signature, the engineer had opened a ship’s secured door, which was no mean feat. It was possible that the passengers inside the living spaces might not even have noticed it.

“Make sure I ask him about whatever the heck he just used,” he told Punch as he started forward.

<Those are standard NIPSEC charges. They’re readily available on the open market.>

“Which I don’t have access to, in case you’ve forgotten. I just want to talk to him.”

<Noted.>

And then he was through the door and into the ship’s main compartment. He faltered for a step. The central hall had to be seen to be appreciated. Calling it huge was an understatement. According to the ship’s plans, it was 2,344 meters long and 423 meters high.

The images on file showed neat, park-like trees, groomed paths, and tiered growing terraces. This was nothing like that. The growth was thick and wild, as in a jungle. The vegetation had crept up the bulkheads, where most of the living quarters were located. A flock of eight birds that Rev didn’t recognize flew over the closer trees, and dragonflies flitted in the sun.

Not a real sun, Rev realized. But the powerful light installed on the overhead sure looked and felt like one, and that was even with the haze that hung in the air.

Rev had been inside the Grandview Hotel in Anastasia once, which had the second-largest atrium on the planet, according to their marketing literature. There were full-grown chestnut and spruce trees inside. The rooms in the hotel had been in the outer walls of the building, and all had an atrium view. He’d been suitably impressed at the time, but this was in a totally different league. It was the Grandview on steroids, both in size and in the pure thickness of the vegetation.

“Sergeant Major, where do you want us?” Sergeant Krill, one of his karnans, asked.

Rev tore his eyes away from the scene.

Get your head in the game, Reverent.

He shook his head, then emplaced his team on the left side of the line, right up against the thick press of the foliage.

Behind him, the civilians filed in. Major White Eagle placed them right in front of the open door where they could be easily spotted.

Easily targeted, too, he thought before admonishing himself. Don’t make this confrontational, Reverent. We’re not at war!

He looked back at his team. Krill was kneeling, his BIPAC aimed into the vegetation.

“Krill! Lower your damn weapon! We’re not on a combat mission,” he shouted. “All of you. At friggin’ ease!”

The karnan looked embarrassed, and he lowered the muzzle forty-five degrees.

“Sling arms, Krill!”

With a sigh, he slung his big weapon over his shoulder before turning to face outward again.

Rev took a deep breath. He understood where the karnan was coming from. Both the MDS Army and Union Marines stressed discipline and diligence. Humanity had been at war for more than thirty years against two alien races and each other, and that had embedded a certain tactical discipline in those who’d survived the fighting.

When in a defensive position, you remained on the alert and ready to react. And now, in this rescue mission, that was a hard habit to break.

“Mother, help me,” he muttered as he shifted his attention to the breadth of the central hall.

Now that he had time to study it a bit further, more details sunk in. There was still the grandeur of the layout, but time hadn’t been kind. There were signs of wear, which surprised him. Sure, it had been three thousand years, but what was causing the wear? The space had “rain” coming out of pipes strung along the ceiling, he knew. But he doubted it came in torrents.

The more he took in, the more it reminded him of holos he’d seen of Mayan ruins on Mother Earth where the jungle was claiming them back.

But why here, where there were people to care for the place? And speaking of which, where were they? Even without a massive explosion opening the door, surely they’d have to notice fifty strangers suddenly appearing.

As he scanned the hall, he couldn’t see any obvious sign of humans. Other animals, yes. Birds and insects were everywhere. And a trill reached out from the jungle that hinted at something else.

Rev switched to his heat filter. A few more signs of life popped up as animals rooted around the undergrowth, but nothing human-sized.

“I’m not getting anything, Punch. Where are they?”

<Your JK-30 doesn’t have the sensitivity of the shipboard systems. With the density of the vegetation, you won’t be able to pick up anything farther than thirty or forty meters away.>

“That doesn’t answer the question, Punch,” he said.

He wondered if the Wahoo’s scanners had made a mistake. The frigate was configured for war, not for a survey mission. He wondered if the Kanters might be better equipped to scan the interior.

Then he laughed at the thought. He liked the aliens, but they never struck him as being technologically advanced. On second thought, though, they’d had that advanced cloaking system when they’d approached the task force, so who knows?

Regardless of the scans, one way or the other, they had to make contact. And if the mountain wouldn’t come to Mohammed, then—”

His thought was cut short when Kat passed on the net, “I’ve got something.”

Kat was on the far right of the line, up against the bulkhead that separated the central hall from the engineering spaces. Rev tried to aim his own systems in that direction, but all he picked up were his people and the civilian team.

“Stand easy,” Major White Eagle passed on the net. “Let’s just wait and see who it is. And try not to look dangerous.”

That elicited laughs. How could a Marine in a PAL look like anything other than dangerous? But Rev thought it was a calculated comment meant to calm everyone down.

Nicely done, Major.

Soon enough, Rev started picking up heat signatures as well. Five, six, then seven figures appeared cautiously moving toward them. Before long, the figures formed into shapes. Human shapes.

“This is it,” Rev passed to the team. “Just stand easy and let the civvies do their thing.”

Habit made him check his team’s frontage, but there was nothing there. It looked like the passengers were only coming from the right.

The shapes approached to about fifteen meters in front of the line and then stopped. The vegetation was so thick that Rev couldn’t see them, but he could watch their heat signatures as four of them gathered together, probably to discuss the situation.

Then a thought hit Rev.

“Major, maybe having the line is a little intimidating? If we want them to come in, maybe open the door for them?”

“Crap. I should have thought of that, Sergeant Major. I’ll take care of it.”

The major slowly walked over to Kelly’s team and had them shift left. That created a space where the passengers might feel more comfortable approaching.

But whether they noticed the clear shot to the team or not, they didn’t advance. Two more people joined them, but they stayed just out of sight.

“Major, I think I’m going to call out to them,” Dr. Aston-Bellinga, the head negotiator, said after twenty minutes of waiting.

The civilian team was in simple EVA suits, but their comms were compatible with the military side.

Rev had a direct line of sight through the major’s face shield, and he could almost see the gears churning.

“OK. Call out. But stay right where you are,” he finally relented.

“Passengers of the Loman’s Haven, we are from the Galaxy Explorer, and we’ve come to make contact with you,” she said over her external speakers.

Rev could see the images freeze. One gestured with their right arm, and the others spread out in a rough line.

“We mean you no harm. We’re here to help you. You’ve been traveling for almost three thousand years after missing your target planet.”

One of the other civilians leaned in and whispered something Rev couldn’t hear.

She nodded and said, “I am Doctor Aston-Bellinga. I will repeat that we mean you no harm. All we want to do is to talk.”

There was a protracted silence, then a voice shouted, “Eemod!”

The bolt whizzed out from the jungle and caught the civilian leader in the throat. Her EVA offered no protection, and she collapsed on her back. More bolts came flying through the air. One hit Rev on the face shield, making him jump back, but his PAL held firm.

Marines were unslinging their weapons, and the major beat Rev by half a second in screaming, “Hold your fire! Hold your fire!”

More shouts of “Eemod” erupted from the jungle, along with other shouts that Rev didn’t catch. He was sprinting toward the downed doctor while the other civilians huddled together, clutching each other.

Which made them a big target. Two more fell just as Rev reached them.

“Get back through the door, now!” he screamed.

They stared at him with uncomprehending eyes.

Rev picked up Dr. Aston-Bellinga and shoved her limp body at her second, a robustly built man named Erik Statler.

“Take her and go!” he said, pushing him toward the still-open door.

That opened the floodgates. Shocked into action, the rest dragged their fallen comrades and sprinted toward safety. Another bolt clanged off of Rev’s back as he turned toward his Marines.

The major was everywhere, slowly collapsing the line inward while yelling at everyone to hold their fire. One of the Legionnaires was down, but everyone else seemed unhurt.

Perhaps emboldened by the lack of return fire, the passengers pushed forward. One darted into view and threw a spear of some sort. Tiwari ducked to the side, and the spear buried itself in the ground.

The man, clad in what might pass for a ghillie suit, jumped up and down, shaking his fists at them, before he turned, pulled up his skirt, and mooned them, slapping each cheek, one after the other.

Rev was taken aback by the action, and his warrior self surged forward, but he shoved him back. This wasn’t the time to lose control.

The last of the civilians made it through the door, and the major called a retreat. Rev kept his team to last, covering the others until it was their turn. Just as he was about to sprint for the engineering spaces, one of the passengers stepped out into the opening and stared Rev down, some sort of crossbow in his hand.

“Day, eemod. Day,” he snarled, and Rev could see the anger threatening to boil over.

The passenger started to slowly raise the crossbow. Rev didn’t think it could harm him, but there was no use taking any chances. He nodded at the man, then stepped back through the door.

“I’m the last one, he said to the several Marines who were waiting there.

They closed the door, which rang with several more parting bolt shots.

7

“That should do it,” MR2 Leith said, giving the bolt a tug.

The ship’s machinery repairman had skijored over to install a bolt securing the door into the central hall. For the last two hours, the karnans and Marines had taken turns holding it shut as the Loman’s Haven’s passengers tested it.

It hadn’t been a contest. The passengers weren’t augmented, and they were nowhere near as strong. But the bolt relieved the need to have someone standing there around the clock and holding the door shut.

Rev stepped up and took a look. It was a solid job, which was to be expected. The ship had four MRs to handle the fabrication of spare parts and anything else that might be needed. Even knowing it would hold, Rev couldn’t help himself. He reached up and gave it his own tug.

Leith looked at him with a bemused expression. “Well, Sergeant Major? Does it pass your muster?”

Rev smiled. “Like you said, that should do it.”

“I guess that wasn’t the reception you expected in there,” Leith said.

“No, not in the least.”

The expectation was that they’d be received with anything from joy and relief to fear and suspicion, not that they’d be attacked. That was one reason that the Marines had been in full PALs rather than EVA suits. They figured they’d look too threatening to be attacked. But that hadn’t stopped the passengers from launching an all-out assault.

It had been a little chaotic once they’d retreated back into the engineering spaces. Caporal Doukoure had taken a bolt that had penetrated his chainmail armor at the shoulder—which was no mean feat. The Legionnaire’s armor might not be as good as a PALs, but it could turn chemical rounds, so for a bolt to penetrate was surprising. He was in shock and pain, but he should recover.

That wasn’t the case with Aston-Bellinga, who’d taken the bolt through her throat. The damage was extensive, and she’d bled out within seconds. Back in a full-service facility, she’d have an excellent shot at resurrection. On the Galaxy Explorer? Not so much.

Resurrection was a case of the haves and have-nots within humanity. The Union military was one of the handful that had access to top-notch facilities and staff, as did the rich and powerful galaxy-wide. Some nations provided the service further down the economic ladder. For the rest, local hospitals might have automated systems that were far less capable. They were more similar to putting someone on life support until they could recover rather than bringing back those who’d been killed by extreme trauma.

While Union fleets typically had full bridging units aboard the larger ships, which could start the process and limit deterioration until the victim could reach a Class A facility, that didn’t do much good for a ship that would never return to human space. So, the sickbay had received one of the automated systems that might exist in any small, remote hospital, and two of the corpsmen were trained in its usage.

Rev hoped it would be good enough for Aston-Bellinga. They’d immediately sent her, along with Doukoure and the other three wounded civilians, back to the ship while they tried to figure out their next step on the Loman’s Haven.

“Now that we’ve got a moment, let’s run what happened,” he told Punch. “Block off my face shield.”

He sat down, back against one of the big conduits. His battle buddy ran the visuals and sound again, from the moment they opened the door to closing it back up after the attack. With his face shield blocked off, it was almost as if he were seeing it again for real. Rev froze it several times to study the images. He spent almost a minute studying the shot of the one who’d stared at him.

The man was shorter than Rev and much slenderer. He was clean-shaven, and his long hair was tied in a ponytail. His shoulders and arms were thin but implied a wiry strength. The clothing was not so much a ghillie suit as was Rev’s first impression but more like a hula skirt with strips of some material attached to a belt. More strips hung down from a collar and formed a sort of loose cape. The material was a combination of dull earth tones.

Around his throat was a single burst of color: a bright blue and red neckband of some sort.

“Do you think their clothing is manufactured? Rev asked.

<Without a physical examination, it would be difficult to say. But it could be made from remnants of manufactured cloth.>

“Which could mean that they’ve somehow reverted back to the basics, like early man.”

<That could be the case, but it could just as well be their current fashion.>

“Then what about their language? ‘Eemod.’ What the hell does that mean?”

<The initial crew and passengers spoke English. It’s been almost three thousand years since then. The likelihood is that their language has evolved.>

“But it’s been three thousand years for us, too, and modern Standard isn’t that different from English from back there.”

<We’ve had more standardization due to communications and recorded media. That’s why you can watch a Twentieth Century film movie and understand it without much of a problem. The passengers of the Loman’s Haven have been isolated. And if there has been a deterioration of their entertainment libraries, their language could have shifted over the millennia.”

“OK, then, genius. What does “eemod” mean then, if it’s just bastardized English?”

<If I can hear more of the words spoken, I can probably work up a translation program.>

Rev stopped the recording. “Really, you can do that? Why didn’t you do something like that with the aliens?”

<I am not programmed for sophisticated translations of unrelated languages. But I have other human languages in my crystal banks, and I can adjust Standard for different accents so you hear what you’re used to. If I am right, and the passengers are speaking a devolved form of English, then I can treat that as a dialect and not a completely different alien language.>

Rev wasn’t quite sure he understood Punch’s point. He didn’t see the difference between what the passengers were saying and what a Kanter said.

“Rev?”

The image from the fight faded, and his face shield cleared. Kelly was standing over him. Rev stood up.

“I’ve got the first watch set up,” she said. “Six here and four at the other doors.”

Major White Eagle had returned to the Galaxy Explorer to meet with the rest of the leadership, leaving Rev to set up a rotating watch. From their efforts so far, Rev didn’t think that the passengers had a way into the engineering spaces, and the other two doors seemed secure with no sign of passage for years or probably decades. Still, it made sense to keep an eye on them.

“It’s amazing that if the passengers haven’t been doing maintenance for the Mother knows how long that this place is still functioning,” Kelly said.

“I guess our ancestors made things to keep,” Rev said.

“Yeah, but three thousand years? It’s unbelievable that things haven’t broken down.”

“By the look of things, they have broken down. You saw the central hall. Does that look like the images we downloaded? And the people didn’t look like much of a crew.”

“I wonder what the hell happened?”

“Hopefully, we can find out.” He paused, then said, “I bet Miko’s about ready to claw out of her skin, not being able to come over.”

“She’s not taking pregnancy very well, is she?”

Rev shook his head. “That’s an understatement. I’m just trying to provide support as I can, but it’s tough.”

“You didn’t stay here to give yourself a break, did you? You know, dealing with crazy ancients instead of her?”

Rev laughed, but he gave her a sideways glance.

She’s not serious, is she?

“They’re not really ancients. They’re as modern as us.”

“With crossbows and spears?”

“OK, not modern with technology. But biologically, yes.”

“Ah, whatever. Did the major give you any idea on how long we’re going to be here?”

Rev shook his head. “He’s gonna suggest getting some of Wahoo Marines to come relieve us, and we’ve got the folks on the Strike Eagle and Rangers on Akaei available.”

“The Strike Eagle? You want to unleash the Mad Dogs on them?”

“Well, maybe not them. But the Rangers. Anyway, to answer your question, I don’t think it will be too long.”

“I hope not. I don’t want them to forget us and be stuck in my PAL for a couple of days.”

A couple of days?

Rev hadn’t even considered that. But if the comms to Titan were still wonky and they had to use message torps, then this could take a while to get some sort of course of action.

Might as well get comfortable.

“Punch, what do you have for me? Not the fight. Some entertainment.”

<You never finished The Great Divide.>

“I guess now’s as good a time as any. Roll it, Punch.”

* * *

Rev had finished two more episodes and was on the finale when the major, Bundy, and Dieter Hyung came over. Rev played tour guide, showing them the three doors. They’d already viewed Doukoure’s recordings of what happened, but with him getting shot, it wasn’t the clearest.

The major had been in the fight too, but Hvarser had a pretty good recording, so Rev called her forward, and the three jacked into her PAL and watched what she’d seen.

When they were done, Rev dismissed Hvarser, and the four faced each other.

“Well, I can’t see any sign of aggression that might have kicked off the attack,” White Eagle said. “It had to be our mere presence.”

That had a ring of cover-your-ass, but that didn’t make it any less true. As Rev had already seen when he went over his own recordings, the passengers hadn’t been provoked into a fight. They’d just reacted to their presence.

“If they are this aggressive, then we’ve got our work cut out for us,” Hyung said.

“We could just leave them as they are,” Major White Eagle said. “Let them keep going on with their lives like they’ve been doing. Why force change on them?”

“Because they’re humans, just like us. They deserve everything we have.”

“Which they know nothing about. The shock would be huge,” the major insisted.

“It’s not up to us, Gil,” Bundy said. “You know that.”

“What’s Titan said?” Rev asked.

“We’ve sent out a torp for instructions. Comms have been erratic,” Bundy said.

Dr, Hyung bit his lower lip, looked at the other three, then said, “Well, Njuguna did get one complete message. Titan wants a win, and by us.”

“What do you mean, Dieter?” Rev asked.

“This entire mission has not been without detractors. It started because, well, you know,” he said, looking pointedly at Rev’s IBHU and then White Eagle’s prosthesis. “Our mission was tacked on, but not everyone agreed with the purpose or the cost. Titan thinks that if we recover the lost ship, and so early in our mission, that will be a proof of concept of the mission.”

“Proof of concept?” Bundy asked. “There’s no relation. We just happened to be here.”

Hyung shrugged. “I’m just relaying what Njuguna was told. They want us to take care of this.”

Bundy shook his head. “Well, the four of us aren’t going to solve anything just standing around jaw-jacking. Let’s launch these drones.”

Rev signaled to the four Marines who’d come over with Bundy and were now standing over a military crate they had by the door. They laid out a tarp on the ground, opened the crate, and started pulling out and powering up a collection of drones, ranging from the tiny, D-14s, which looked like a horsefly, to the larger and more capable DE-156 LFDs.

Sergeant Kyra Suarez was the “drone momma,” as the others called her. One of the volunteers, she maintained all of the company’s drones.

One of them caught Rev’s attention. Dark green and about three centimeters long, he wasn’t familiar with the model.

“What’s that one?”

Suarez’s eyes lit up. “That’s a Tau Ceti Swift. Beautiful drone, Sergeant Major. Six-month loiter, if you can believe that. Night vision, KT AI. And look!” She reached forward, pressed something, and the dark green faded until the drone matched the dark blue of the tarp it was on.

“Cool, right?” she said with a lover’s attention.

Rev picked it up and moved it off the tarp and over the deck. It immediately switched to steel gray. He raised it over his head, and it seemed to meld with the overhead lights.

The Tau Ceti Rangers always had some innovative gear. It was a shame what the Naxli had done to their homeworld.

“Positioning doesn’t make a difference. No matter which direction you’re looking from, it matches what’s on the other side,” Suarez said.

“Kinda like a tarnkappe,” Rev said.

“Much more sophisticated, Sergeant Major,” she said with obvious pride.

Rev wasn’t quite as enamored with it as she was, but he had to admit it was pretty cool. And if she was in charge of the company’s drones, it was probably a good thing that she was enthusiastic.

“They’re all ready to go? All programmed?”

“They will be in another two minutes.” She turned to the three Marines who’d been drafted to assist her. “You heard the sergeant major. Hurry up.”

Rev returned to the other three. “Two minutes and they’ll be ready to go.”

“Hopefully, we’ll get a better picture of our friends,” Bundy said.

“Kelly, get your team ready. We’re about to launch,” he passed on the P2P.

She’d been standing to the side watching, but she gave Rev a thumbs-up and moved to the six Marines stationed at the door. A minute later, Suarez stood and told Rev she was ready.

“Colonel?” Rev asked.

“Launch them,” Bundy replied.

Kelly gave the order, and two of the Marines removed the heavy bolt, while the other four stood facing it, weapons ready.

“Go,” Suarez said.

The two Marines opened the door, and Suarez launched. Sixteen drones lifted off the tarp and darted through the open door, which was immediately slammed shut and the bolt thrown home.

“And now we wait to see what they pick up.”

* * *

Rev undogged his helmet and took it off with a sigh. He’d only been in his PAL for nineteen hours, but that was about eighteen too many.

He turned the helmet over and ran his hand along the back padding. The same problem had popped up, where it felt like something had been tickling the back of his head. That had supposedly been fixed, and he couldn’t see what was wrong.

“Hey, Daryll, can you check my helmet again?” he asked the civilian tech as he held it out to him.

“I’m an IBHU tech, not a PAL,” Daryll grumbled.

But he took the helmet. It was true that Daryll Begay was the IBHU technician for the task force. Almost everyone had to be dual-hatted, though, and frankly, Daryll was far more competent than the staff sergeant who was in charge of keeping the PALs in top working condition.

Daryll ran his hand along the padding, just as Rev had done. “So, what’re the refugees like?” he asked as he brought the helmet closer for a better look.

“Rude. They fired on us. What do you think they’re like?”

“I’m not surprised, what with you coming in looking like androids.”

“The gennies weren’t there.”

“You Marines look more threatening than they do.”

Rev grunted. Daryll was probably right, but he still wasn’t convinced that even if they’d gone in naked, the passengers wouldn’t have reacted with the same aggression.

“Just see if you can fix the helmet. I’ve got to get showered for the meeting.”

Rev molted from his PAL and sniffed his armpits. He wasn’t joking about needing a shower, and he didn’t have much time.

He grabbed his social arm and hurried to his stateroom. Tomiko was lying in bed, but she sat up after he came in.

“Tell,” she said.

“Not much to tell,” he said as he stripped off his long johns. “We breached the ship in the engineering spaces, but there was no sign of the passengers. So, we blew the door into the central hall, and the bastards decided to greet us with force. Killed Aston-Bellinga.”

He stopped, then asked, “You hear anything about her condition?”

Tomiko shook her head. “I know they got her to sickbay and were going to attempt a resurrection. But back to the ship. Why’d they attack? Did your team initiate something?”

Rev kicked his long johns across the deck and stepped into the sonic. “We didn’t initiate anything, Miko. They just attacked. Haven’t you seen any of the recordings?”

“They’re not being disseminated.”

“It looks like they’ve lost most of their tech and reverted. That’s all I can say now. I’ve got four minutes to get to the meeting.”

He cut the sonics. He hadn’t been in the shower long enough to really get clean, but it was going to have to do. Tomiko gave him one of her patented stares as he threw on a clean set of utilities.

“As soon as you’re done, you get your ass back here and let me know what’s going on.”

Rev waved his hand in acknowledgment as he darted out the hatch and hurried down the passage. He made the briefing room with seconds to spare and slid into one of the chairs around the table—a sergeant major did rate a few bennies, and he wouldn’t be standing for the entire brief.

This wasn’t a meeting of just those on the Galaxy Explorer. There were screens on all of the other ships, to include the Genesians’, for them to attend virtually.

Rev leaned over to Dieter Hyung and whispered, “How’s Aston-Bellinga?”

“Doc Rima’s repaired the damage and pumped her up with blood. Now, it’s just waiting to see if the resurrection takes.”

Dr. Njuguna came into the room, so Hyung couldn’t add anything more. Rev would find out later when he went to visit Aston-Bellinga.

“Thank you all for coming. We’ve got a rather giant issue here that we need to fix, and I intend on keeping everyone here until we’ve got a plan of action.”

Oh, great. This might take forever. I should have grabbed something to eat instead of taking a shower.

Rev didn’t have much respect for civilian meetings. He knew he might not be being fair, but it seemed like everyone just kept talking, and any decision took forever to get made. Military meetings could go on forever, too, but at least with them, there was a clear commander who could just cut the discussion short and make the decision.

“Before we start, I want to get some of the drone feeds up for all of us to see. Those should give us an idea of what we’re up against. Lian?”

One of the civilians who Rev didn’t know stood up. “I’m Dr. Teo. For those who don’t know me, I’m the Director of Alien Research.”

Alien Research? They’re humans, just like us. Not aliens.

It wasn’t up to Rev, though, to decide who was running this brief.

Dr. Teo looked young, too young to be a director of anything, much less a Ph.D. But she had an air of confidence about her. Maybe that’s why she was briefing them.

“We’ve had about twelve hours now of drone surveillance. And I want to thank the Marines, particularly Sergeant Suarez, for their use. She’s been a great help in controlling them.”

Major White Eagle nodded in acknowledgment.

“We started with sixteen. We now have fourteen.”

She clicked her controller, and a recording appeared on the screen on the bulkhead. The recording was taken as a drone was moving through heavy vegetation until it cleared the trees and approached a settlement of some kind. To Rev, it looked like a homeless camp, put together with whatever materials could be scrounged up.

As the drone got closer, Rev realized that there was actually more permanence to the camp, but it still had that makeshift air. Several people were moving around, and one man was cooking over an open fire.

That explains the haze in the air.

He knew the ship had massive air filters, but if people were using open fires, it would be a constant battle to keep the air clean.

This camp wasn’t large. From the looks of it, it might be big enough for a dozen or fifteen people. Rev leaned forward as the drone got closer when the screen suddenly went black. Several people shouted in surprise.

“Lian?” Dr. Njuguna said.

The director adjusted her controls, and the feed returned to where the drone was approaching the camp. She slowed it down to a crawl, and a dark rod appeared an instant before the screen went dark.

They shot it down!

Dr. Teo looked out over the meeting. “This was a DD-55, which for those of you unfamiliar with it, is about three centimeters wide. Yet, not only was it spotted, but it was destroyed with what looks to be a crossbow bolt.”

She let that sink in for a moment.

“We know how we lost this one. We don’t know what happened to the other. But what this tells us is that despite the rumors, the passengers aren’t some primitive, helpless refugees. We don’t know what’s happened to them, but they are decidedly fully capable human beings.

“So, please, as we examine a curated collection of feeds, keep that in mind. We’re dealing with people here, just like you and me.”

She then started loading various feeds. Some were taken at altitude. Some were down close to ground level. Twice, people shot at the drones but missed.

But what they revealed was important. Small camps were scattered throughout the jungle—for that’s what the park had become. There were two larger villages with what looked to be more robust buildings and basic manufacturing. A few of the ground-level spaces in the bulkheads looked to be occupied, but the large numbers of living quarters on the higher decks showed no sign of human activity.

People were going about their daily activities. The hydroponic terraces were mostly overgrown, although a small percentage had been seeded. Other areas had been cleared and were now planted with neat rows of crops.

Twice the drones caught images of people emerging from the jungle with strings of rats on their belts. A young girl with a small bow across her back carried a single bird.

Take away the ship, and they could be looking at a medieval settlement.

The drones picked up a fair amount of their speech. It seemed incomprehensible to Rev—he couldn’t believe it was English.

But Punch said, <I think I have enough to start understanding what they’re saying.>

Rev trusted his battle buddy, but it seemed like a reach.

“Let’s talk after this is over,” he said.

They watched a total of about thirty minutes of the drone recordings. There was a lot more, but Teo said that was enough for their purposes today.

“Do we have a count on how many people are on the ship?” Bundy asked after the last recording was shown.

“We’re estimating from seven to eight hundred,” Teo said.

“Is that enough to sustain a population?” Bundy asked.

“At one point, there were fewer than a thousand people on Earth,” Rev blurted out.

That was one of Punch’s favorite tidbits of information.

Bundy gave him a strange look, and Teo said, “That’s probably correct, Sergeant Major, at least according to the fossil record and DNA studies. They were located in southern Africa, along a protected shoreline. So, Colonel, while the numbers aren’t particularly healthy, it is possible for the number to sustain itself.”

“Do we know how long they’ve been . . . uh, in this situation?”

“If you’re asking when they seemingly lost their mastery of the ship’s technology, then the answer is no.”

Dr. Njuguna interrupted, “Why and where they lost technology is interesting, but that’s a question for later. We’re here to come up with a plan to deal with the here and now.”

The fact that she’d interrupted belied Rev’s view that civilians had a hard time making decisions. She was keeping them on track.

“I think the plan is simple, Doctor,” Major White Eagle said. “As I asked while on the ship, why do we have to do anything? These people seem to have a thriving culture, and they don’t look to be in distress. They’ve shown that they don’t want anything to do with us. So, why not let them be?”

“They’re fellow humans. It’s our duty to help them,” Teo said.

“I don’t agree. And even if it is something that should be done, why us? Are we set up for this? We’ve got their course. Let Titan send the proper personnel to try and make contact.”

Dr. Njuguna exchanged glances with Dr. Hyung before she said, “We had some partial communications before we launched the message torpedo. Titan prefers that we deal with the situation.”

Just like Dieter said. This is PR for us.

Rev was intensely curious as to the Loman’s Haven’s passengers and what happened to them, and their aggression notwithstanding, he wanted to make contact and help them. He just didn’t like that they were being used for PR back in the home system.

They exiled us, for the Mother’s sake. How about leaving us alone?

“With that directive, let’s put our heads together and come up with a plan.”

Rev sighed and settled into his chair. He had a feeling they were going to be going at it for a long time.

8

The feed showed two women sitting and chatting on a plastic bench as they separated long leaves into strands.

“Are you folks getting anywhere with the language, Dieter?” Major White Eagle asked.

Bundy, White Eagle, Dr. Hyung, and Rev had come back to the conference room to watch more of the feeds while the contact team tried to get a grasp on the passengers’ language. They needed that for Phase 1 of their plan.

Hyung checked his wristcomp. “They said it would only take a couple of hours with the Clickers’ translators. So, it shouldn’t be long now.”

“I wonder what they’re saying. Whatever it is, they seemed to be having a good time,” the major said.

“They’re talking about another woman who’s sleeping with a much younger man,” Rev said without thinking.

All three men turned to look at him.

“And you know that how, pray tell?” Bundy asked.

Rev was watching and listening to the women gossip—and rather enjoying it—and he failed to catch Bundy’s tone.

“It’s just bastardized English. Really not far from modern Standard. Punch could make that adjustment once he had a few sentences in context.”

“Your battle buddy,” White Eagle said.

Rev tore his eyes away from the feed. “Sure. Like I said, it’s just English that’s changed over all the years. Punch offered—”

He stopped as he took in their expressions. He’d assumed that some of the other AIs had done the same thing, and that had made him careless. Punch wasn’t like all the other AIs. The fact that he’d told Rev what he could do without prompting was just one more example of that.

Rev and Punch had mostly stopped using table talk, their term for the secure way they could communicate with each other, once they left human space, but maybe they were getting too complacent.

“I mean, I wondered about it. I figured it was just English with different pronunciations, so I asked Punch if he could adjust their words so I could understand them. Battle buddies can do that with accents, you know,” he said casually, as if it wasn’t a big deal.

“No, I didn’t know our AIs did that,” White Eagle said. “And this is a little more than making the damn Far Reaches accents suitable for civilized society.”

Both White Eagle and Bundy went quiet in the manner of people conversing with their embedded AIs.

“Well, hell. Snow says she can do it too,” White Eagle said. “All she has to do is catalog some known words and pronunciations, and she can extrapolate enough to adjust how I hear the incoming speech.”

Rev raised an eyebrow. Almost all Marines had the “gender” of their battle buddies match their own. A few had overly neutral personas—as Rev had started with Punch before he first upped the personality quotient—but rarely did someone have a totally different one. It didn’t matter, and it was a personal choice. Rev was just surprised that he’d known White Eagle for such a long time and not realized his choice.

“Reggie can do it, too. All this time setting up the Clicker translators, and we could have done it already. I guess it’s just a matter of programming our battle buddies. No, not programming. All we have to do is ask. Which you were astute enough to do, Rev,” Bundy said.

Rev smiled and nodded, but he felt guilty for taking credit for something he’d never considered.

<Slick move.>

Hyung looked up from his wristcomp with a frustrated expression. “That’s the problem with technology. Unless we know what everything can do, then it’s useless. I’m sure my comp can do it, too, but I don’t have that interface you military guys have, and I don’t know how to set it up.”

“Hey, can you give us a few translations to give Reggie a head start?” Bundy asked Rev.

He and White Eagle crowded closer while Rev gave a running commentary on what the women were saying. It only took fifteen minutes before the other two battle buddies were off to the races as they quickly acquired the data needed to adjust the passengers’ speech in both pronunciation and structure.

Hyung kept asking for translations as the three listened to the women.

“Wow,” Bundy said after the two women picked up their work and walked off. “I guess this Lalu’s really something, cutting a swath through all the young men on the ship.”

“Where was she when I was eighteen?” White Eagle asked wistfully. “I could have used the lessons.”

* * *

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Rev asked Bundy as he started to remove his EVA suit.

Lieutenant Colonel Bundy looked around the space where ten people were getting out of theirs as well. Five of them were civilians. A karnan, a Rigel navigator, a Bugatti Carabinieri commando, a Legionnaire, and Rev made up the rest of the delegation.

“They wanted full representation for this.”

Rev raised Pashu. “OK for the civvies, but the rest of us, we’re not really the classical image of humanity.”

“You heard Njuguna. They’ve already seen four of you IBHUs, and this way, they can see that despite your arms, you’re still humans.”

Rev wasn’t sure this was the best way forward. If they wanted to assure the passengers, then maybe it would be better to send the civilians—the least threatening as a group on the task force—forward to try and meet with them.

“At least the gennies and lemmings aren’t being included,” Rev said. “That would be all we need to convince them that we’re not demons.”

Despite starting from scratch and treating the passengers’ speech as a completely new language, the Uauii translators had done their job and deciphered the language—three hours after Punch had done the same thing.

During the attack, the fighters had called them “demons” and had vowed to kill all of them. And from conversations picked up by the drones, the talk of demons and how they’d been driven off was a major topic of conversation.

That clarified the priorities. The task force had to convince the passengers that they were not demons and were fellow humans coming to help.

Armed with the ability to communicate, Njuguna had ordered an industrial robot with comms capability through the door. It had been immediately attacked, but they were made tough. As the passengers fired their crossbows, and a few brave souls rushed the bot to hit it with assorted clubs and axes, Dr. Teo kept up a stream of calm entreaties to stop attacking.

Whether she was particularly persuasive or the attackers just got tired, they stopped, and she was able to initiate a discussion.

The passengers might have regressed from a technological standpoint, but they were still humans with humans’ intelligence. Rev couldn’t fault the logic of the passenger who seemed to take a position of authority.

How could they be human when the words were coming out of a metal box? How could they be human if they had metal skin? How could they be human if they came from outside the world?

It took several of the ship’s sleep cycles to arrange for a face-to-face meeting. The communications weren’t continuous. The passengers broke off several times to confer in larger groups.

Ten of the drones were still operational, so two of the smallest were sent to listen in on the discussions. Most of the people were positive that the newcomers were demons sent to disrupt their “journey,” which seemed to have a religious significance. The demons’ appearance was proof that their journey was coming to an end, and the demons didn’t want them to enter heaven.

It was a little frustrating not being able to directly take part in those discussions, but Rev watched as Dr. Teo subtly addressed the issues when speaking with the ones at the bot. She didn’t just hit them head-on, but worked her points into the discussion.

He hadn’t thought too much about Teo one way or the other before. She was just one more civilian along for the ride. But after watching her, he had to admit that she was right for the job.

Finally, a face-to-face meeting was arranged, and that was why the ten people were getting ready to walk out into the central hall without weapons or armor. All of the IBHUs, more Marines, and karnans from both the Galaxy Explorer and the Strike Eagle were staged, ready to react at a moment’s notice, but Rev had seen how effective the passengers’ bolts were. He had power that could fire his beamer, but that couldn’t keep a swarm of bolts from riddling the group.

To add pressure to the meeting, Q-comms had been temporarily reestablished with Titan. Paxus, which claimed jurisdiction over the Loman’s Haven through a long and convoluted historical thread, was sending out a “rescue mission.” So was Tigana 3, with much the same reasoning.

The task force was not to resist either of the two missions, but to ensure this didn’t blow up into a confrontation between any of the parties, Titan wanted the matter settled before anyone else arrived.

“If this is an ambush, sir, come save our asses,” Rev told Major White Eagle, only half in jest.

“Just don’t make some diplomatic faux pas,” he answered with a chuckle.

The laugh was there, but there was a bit of underlying tension. He’d wanted to lead the military part of the delegation, but Bundy wanted Rev, who had experience in meeting aliens. The passengers weren’t aliens, of course, but some of that experience might translate.

As far as Rev was concerned, the major could take his place. But orders were orders, and Bundy had a reputation for being right.

“Are they there yet?” Dr. Njuguna called out.

“They’re just arriving now,” the civilian on the monitor said.

“This is it, then. All of you, I don’t have to repeat how important this is. We need to come to an understanding with the Havens,” she said, using the word that had crept into their lexicon. “And this needs to be done before our Paxus and Tigana friends arrive.

“We’re not going to force them into anything, but we’ve got to bring them up to date with the realities of the situation. They deserve to rejoin the human race, but on their terms.”

She took a moment to look at each of the ten delegates. “This doesn’t have to happen in the next five minutes. All we’re doing now is opening a line of communications. If Dr. Teo manages that, then your mission has been accomplished.”

Rev gave a quick glance at Teo. She didn’t seem fazed. In fact, she was almost glowing with confidence.

“OK, I guess it’s time. Go to it.”

Kat was one of the Marines standing by the door. She pulled back the bolt while two more Marines opened it. She was in her full PAL, but Rev could see her wink at him as he walked past and out into the central hall.

Not much had changed since the last time he was there. The differences were the bot standing in the middle of the open area and the ring of about twenty people right at the tree line.

The back of Rev’s shoulder blades itched, knowing that there would be many more people back in the jungle, but aiming those crossbows at them. Without his PAL, Rev couldn’t do a scan, and Dr. Njuguna had nixed the monocles.

I can have Pashu, but not a monocle. Sure, makes complete sense, he told himself as he moved to the far left of their line.

His position was not random. By being on one flank, he could cover everyone with his beamer if things should go to shit. Hopefully, it wouldn’t come to that, but it was better to be prepared and not have to act than the reverse.

Dr. Teo stepped forward from their line. Three of the havens stepped forward in turn, stopping five paces in front of her.

“Vee vendzip comp een,” she said in slow, deliberate words.

We come in friendship.

While all of them had their Uauii translators, they didn’t have the ability to speak in Haven English as they would if their words were being transmitted or magnified. But Teo thought her words should be spoken from her mouth directly to the Havens’ ears to stress their commonality.

“We are not friends with demons,” the center Haven said, but without too much conviction.

Rev “heard” his speech in Standard. He was bypassing his translator and using Punch to directly input the altered speech into his audio cortex.

This was the same person who seemed to be in some sort of leadership role during the bot-aided discussions.

There was a pause. Teo had memorized her first statement. Now she would be using her translator to feed her what she wanted to say.

“N vee eemod nod. Vee oonma, lik voo es.”

And we’re not demons. We’re human, just like you.

Only, Rev heard her speaking Standard. Punch hadn’t bothered with her first sentence, but now he’d stepped in.

“You are not from this world. So, you are demons.”

Unless emotions had drastically changed over the millennia, the man didn’t seem too emphatic. It was as if he was rotely repeating some of the earlier discussion to set the stage.

“We’ve explained this before. We are humans from beyond the sun.”

It had become clear early on that the Havens knew nothing of stars. That knowledge had been lost. But they had their “sun,” the light suspended from the overhead.

“Beyond the sun is nothing.”

“And yet we are here. You said we come from outside the world. Where is the outside, then, if there is nothing beyond the sun?”

The man grunted and seemed to concede the point. He took a moment to sweep his gaze across the rest of the delegation, but his eyes locked on Rev as his eyes reached him.

Ignoring Teo, he strode over to Rev, followed by the other two. A few of the gathered people gave hoots—which somehow reminded Rev of Marines and their “ooh-rahs.”

The man stopped in front of Rev. At about 150 centimeters and possibly seventy kilograms, Rev towered over the man. But if he was impressed, he hid it well. He stared at Rev with the confidence of a honey badger, a wry smile plastered on his face.

Suddenly, he reached out and put a hand on Pashu. Rev startled and almost pulled away, but he held fast.

“This is not the arm of a human.”

Rev almost smiled. This was one of the many things he’d prepped for.

“You have a woman—”

He faltered. He was hearing his words in both the Haven English he was speaking and Standard coming into his hearing. Punch was still translating, and it was seriously messing him up.

“Quit translating my words back to me!”

<Roger.>

Rev took a deep breath and started again. “You have a woman who is missing a leg.”

The wry smile slipped a bit. “Aylee.”

“Yet she can walk. You have given her a fake leg.”

The woman—“Aylee,” it seemed—had been spotted by several of the drones. She had a prosthetic leg made from some sort of scrap attached to a harness that enabled her to walk.

“This is my fake arm. Nothing more.”

The man dropped his hand from Pashu and seemed to consider what he had said. Rev just hoped he hadn’t screwed up with his Haven.

After a moment, the man turned away and made his way back toward Dr. Teo.

“Did I say that right?”

<Close enough for government work,> Punch said.

Dr. Teo seemed anxious to take back control. “We want to help you. We have many gifts that can make your life easier.”

“Our life was easy until you came,” the man said. “But please explain.”

So started the first discussion, which went on for more than two hours. At least half of the observers must have gotten bored because they slowly backed away. Rev was bored, too, but he had no choice. He stood there, not quite like the Honor Guard outside the Hall of Humanity back on Titan, but he couldn’t wander around or fidget.

Finally, Teo and Yorg Sith, the Haven negotiator, agreed to meet again after the next sleep cycle. That was a win in Rev’s book. He wasn’t sure that there was much progress, but neither had things broken down in violence. And Yorg had seemed impressed with the few gifts—a simple blanket seemed to be the one that had impacted him the most—that she’d given him.

His knees creaked as he followed the others back through the open door. Kat was still there on duty, and she gave him a questioning look.

“I’ll tell you later,” he mouthed as he joined the others where Dr. Njuguna, Bundy, Bane, and the rest of the leaders were surrounding them.

This is gonna take as long as the real meeting, he thought as he steeled himself to be grilled.

9

“So, it’s back to our mission?” Tomiko asked as she turned over for the third time in as many minutes.

“Looks that way. The Wahoo’s staying with the Haven until the Paxans or the Tiganans show up, but we’re back on track.”

“I wish I could have seen the ship,” Tomiko said.

“It was an overgrown jungle. And the people were living a pretty bare life,” he said, trying to downplay it.

In truth, he’d been fascinated by the people and their life. He regretted leaving them, in a way. They’d be exploring lots of planets in the future, but this has been a rare opportunity, one shared only a relatively few times in history.

“You try lying in bed while two aliens grow in your belly,” she groused. “Any distraction would have been a relief.”

Tomiko was going on eight months pregnant, and she was on bed rest and meds in an effort to keep the twins from coming early.

“You didn’t watch Yorg when he came aboard?”

“I slept through it. Anyway, seeing it on a screen isn’t like actually getting out of this damn stateroom.”

Rev opened his mouth, and she snapped, “Don’t you even try to tell me that going to sickbay for the sonograms is getting out of here.”

He shut his mouth. That was exactly what he was going to say.

“I saw a birth on the Haven. All natural. Just be happy you don’t have to go through that.”

“Great. You’re with another woman when she’s giving birth, but you leave your own wife alone.”

Rev knew she wasn’t being serious, but he said, “It’s been a busy week.”

There had been two more discussions before Yorg agreed to at least let them prove their statements. First, he and six others went through the door and into the engineering spaces.

The shock on their faces was evident. This was something akin to hell in their beliefs, which was another reason why they’d thought they were demons. When faced with reality, that had been a huge blow to how they viewed their world. And they had enough of the ship in the central hall to recognize that there were too many similarities to be a coincidence.

Getting Yorg to visit the Galaxy Explorer had been the next logical step, and one that they had anticipated would be difficult. That couldn’t have been further from the truth. Yorg had an eager curiosity, and it seemed that when faced with the reality of the engineering spaces, he’d quickly made the leap that all of this might be true.

Oh, he argued and denied, but there was no intensity to it. Rev got the distinct impression that he was merely negotiating for as much as he could get.

When he got on the ship, he walked around like a potentate, smiling and nodding at everyone he saw, which earned him the nickname of King George.

One thing floored him. After significant debate, Dr. Njuguna asked the Kanters to send a team over. That seemed at odds with trying to prove that they were all human, but evidently, she thought that battle had been won and that there were advantages to introducing him to a non-human race.

The introduction occurred in the hangar. The Kanters arrived in one of their small craft. Yorg had already ridden in a shuttle, so the concept was not new. But when five Kanters came bounding down the ramp, his cool demeanor broke.

He managed to regain his composure, but Rev could see he was more than surprised. He laughed, though, when one of the Kanters kept doing backflips, and that put him at ease. More than at ease. He started having a predatory look in his eyes.

Which made kind of sense to Rev. The Kanters looked rather like Earth mammals, and from what they’d found out, the Havens’ protein intake was limited to rats, birds, and insects. The food fabricators were inoperable, and whatever other animals had been on the ship had long been eaten.

Rev had stepped between the Kanters and Yorg, but the Haven leader never tried to snatch one of them up.

There were more discussions, and more of the Havens came over to the Galaxy Explorer. But eight days after the initial, disastrous contact, the bulk of the Havens accepted their new reality. Quite a bit of it dovetailed into their mythology, so that was a help. Even taking that into consideration, though, Rev was shocked at how well most of the people were accepting it. Sure, some of the modern goods sent over had something to do with that. Cloth, of all things, was the hottest item. But their whole concept of reality had just been torn to shreds, and a good portion of them seemed to just take it in as if massive change was an everyday thing.

Rev had spent the last two days as security for a contact team. The people seemed to accept the presence of their fellow humans, but it never hurt to be careful. History was replete with cases where supposed friendlies turned on their visitors.

That was how Rev had witnessed a birth. He’d been with the civilian medical team as they treated various ailments, and they’d come upon the delivery.

Rev had seen death and destruction, but seeing a human baby come into the universe shook him more than he would have thought. Tomiko had already been told that with the twins’ positioning and her small size, a natural childbirth was not an option. Natural childbirth was making something of a comeback on Safe Harbor, and Tomiko had talked about it, but Rev thought she welcomed the decision. And after watching it, Rev was glad, too.

He moved closer and put his hand on her belly. “It won’t be long now, Miko.”

“It won’t be soon enough. I asked Doc Rima this morning if she could just hook me up to the autodoc and do it today.”

“And?”

Tomiko scowled. “She said the longer they stay inside me, the better it is for them.”

Rev bent over to kiss her forehead when his wristcomp buzzed. He took a quick look. It was a text message from Bundy, requesting Rev to come see him.

“Bundy wants me. I gotta go.”

“I haven’t had two minutes with you ever since we spotted that ship.”

“I’ll be back. It shouldn’t take long.”

He finished the kiss and stepped out into the passageway.

“Anything come up?”

<Nothing out of the ordinary.>

Rev whistled as he walked over to officers’ country. He was feeling good. The mission with the Havens had gone well, and it had been a welcomed change of pace. Even the violence had been minimized. Dr. Aston-Bellinga was back among the living, and she had a decent prognosis.

But most of all, he was going to be a father. A year ago, he’d never thought it was in the cards, but now that the time was getting closer, he vacillated between abject fear and excitement, and at the moment, excitement was holding sway.

Bundy’s hatch was open, but he rapped on the sill.

“Come on in, Rev. Grab a seat.”

Bundy, as commander of troops, had the third largest stateroom on the ship. There was room for a full-sized desk, a couch and two chairs, and a table, and his living quarters were separated from the rest by a meter-and-a-half-high wall.

“How’s Miko?” he asked.

“Very pregnant, uncomfortable, and grouchy.”

“Well, it should be over soon. And you’ll be a father. It’s . . . it’s . . . hell, you’ll see. It’s difficult, but it’s the best thing that can happen to a man.

“It’s going to be strange, you know, to have babies on a warship. It wasn’t always that way, though. Back in the Nineteenth Century and before, wives often accompanied their husbands at sea, even in war. And that’s where we get the term ‘son of a gun.’”

Rev had heard that before. “I know, because the mother and father screwed in a hammock slung between the cannons.”

Bundy looked disappointed that Rev knew that.

“But you’re gonna have to get used to it,” Rev said. “Rumor has it that one of the civvies is preggie.”

Bundy looked surprised. “Pregnant? How the hell did that happen?”

“Well, when a man and a woman love each other very, very much, they—”

“You know what I mean! Aren’t the women on blockers?”

Rev shrugged. “It’s just rumor, but that’s the kind that can’t be hidden for long.”

Bundy shook his head. “I hope this doesn’t become de rigueur. That’s all we need.”

He looked up at Rev. “Except for your girls, of course.”

“Yeah, of course.”

“Well, anyway,” he said, drawing out the “way.”

What now?

When Bundy said it like that, Rev often didn’t like what came next.

“You know that the Wahoo is staying back with the Haven until either the Paxans or the Tiganans win their race.”

“Yes, sir. I was at the brief, too.”

Bundy let the sarcasm slide. “Well, I’ve been talking with Captain Paulliac, and she needs some help.”

Rev’s radar went on full alert. He didn’t like where this was heading.

“I’m cross-decking a team over to her. Three and three. IBHUs and regular.”

“And you want to know who I recommend?” Rev asked hopefully.

Bundy grimaced, and Rev’s heart fell.

“I’ve already decided. You have to lead the team.”

By the Mother!

“I can’t, Bundy,” he protested. “Sir. Miko’s gonna have babies! I’ve gotta be here.”

“Look, Rev, I know. But Miko’s not due for another month. We expect the other ship will be here within a week. You’ll be back for the birth.”

“They’re twins! They usually come early.”

“Which is why I talked to the Doc. She told me that’s why she’s got Miko on bed rest and is giving her meds to keep from an early birth.”

Rev’s mind was whirling. He didn’t understand why Captain Paulliac needed an IBHU team, and if she did, why did it have to be him.

“What about Kelly? Can’t she lead this team?”

“I need Kelly on NP-3166. She’s setting up the Lamix Barrier, and she can take over as senior Staff NCO.”

“What about Tsao?”

“Rev, it has to be you,” Bundy said quietly but with a note of finality.

“I don’t understand.”

“I’ve discussed this with Dr. Njuguna—”

“She’s not military.”

“Rev, listen,” he said, holding his hand, palm forward toward him. “Captain Paulliac’s got some problems. Staff NCO problems. There needs to be a correction made, and sending an IBHU team, which makes its own tactical sense, gives you the opportunity to take care of things without being too obvious.”

Rev just stared at Bundy, trying to come up with something that wouldn’t take him away from Tomiko. It was one thing to be on the planet’s surface with her on the ship. It was altogether different when they’d be separated by a quarter of a light year.

But once Bundy had mentioned “SNCO problems,” he knew it was over. The company aboard the Wahoo had a first sergeant and a gunny. If there were issues, then Kelly, as a junior gunnery sergeant, wasn’t going to be able to do anything. It had to be Rev.

He sighed. “Who’s going with me?” he said, defeated.

“I was thinking your posse, Hvarser and Tiwari. Then Tsao and Randigold. And last, Kat.”

“Can you keep Kat here with you? If Tomiko does deliver early, I’d like for her to be here.”

“She’s not delivering early, Rev, but OK. Who else, then?”

“I don’t know. Leek?”

“Jellyroll Leek? Really? OK, if that’s who you want.”

He didn’t really want Leek, but that was the first name that popped into his mind.

“When do we leave?”

“We’re taking off for Sixty-six in three hours. So, anytime before then.”

Rev bit his lower lip and sighed. “Well, I guess I’d better get going.”

He stood and walked to the hatch.

“You’ll be back before the girls come, Rev.”

Rev raised his hand in acknowledgment as he stepped through and out into the passageway.

There was one major task facing him before he gathered the others and got ready to cross-deck, one that he was dreading.

How the hell am I gonna break this to Tomiko?

10

Rev watched the shuttle depart the Wahoo’s hangar. It was almost a relief. Tomiko hadn’t taken it well at all, and it had taken Rev five minutes to convince her not to get out of bed and march down to demand Bundy assign someone else.

“We’re Marines, and this is what we do,” hadn’t done much to calm her down.

Only promising that the Wahoo would be leaving in less than a week seemed to defuse the situation. Even with the transit time, he’d be there before the scheduled birth date. And, if necessary, the medical team could push that back a few days.

He hoped the girls would cooperate and not try to force an early arrival.

With a sigh, he turned to his team. “Well, let’s see what we’ve got.”

First Sergeant Tabitha Mann was waiting for them by the hangar door. “Welcome to the Wahoo, Sergeant Major,” she said, hand out. “We’re glad to have you join us.”

She was smiling, but she had to resent his appearance—especially as she had more time in uniform than he did. His getting jumped up to sergeant major early didn’t have much of an effect on the Galaxy Explorer. He’d be the senior enlisted even as a first sergeant. But within the Marine Corps at large, things were a little different.

If there was strife within the company, she knew it. And as a first sergeant, she’d been in long enough to know that he was in the fireman role of putting out fires.

“We’re happy to be here, First Sergeant, even temporarily. If you can direct me to your CP, I’ll pay my respects to the skipper, but can you get my team to their quarters?”

“I’d be happy to, Sergeant Major, but you won’t be assigned quarters,” she said before pausing and smiling at him.

What?

The Wahoo was a frigate, a smaller combatant, and even with only a Marine company aboard, he knew things would be tight. But no quarters?

He started to protest, but she said, “You’ll be going to the Haven with the onsite team.”

Rev gave the first sergeant a disapproving look. She’d known exactly what she was doing, making that little pause to draw his ire, to keep him off balance. And now, she was looking at him with an innocent expression as if nothing was wrong.

“We’re going to the Haven?”

“We’re rotating platoons there, but with your unique capabilities, Captain Paulliac thought you’d be best employed on the century ship itself.”

And I’ll be out of your hair. What’s your game, First Sergeant?

Rev had to take a moment to consider what was going on. He could refuse, of course, but he had no good reason to do so, and the captain might just make it an order. And, to be honest, being on the Loman’s Haven with the people there seemed much more palatable than what he already knew was a toxic environment aboard the Wahoo.

But he also needed to find out what the situation was with the company’s inner workings.

He made his decision. “That sounds good, First Sergeant. We’ve been up for twenty hours now, and I want us alert when we reach the ship. So, let’s get my team fed and give them a place to crash, and then we’ll head on over.”

Rev could see she wanted to protest, and she could get the captain to override that, but it didn’t take her long to acquiesce. Just as Rev knew she would.

“Sergeant Holmes, take these Marines to the galley and get them something to eat. Then take them to Second Platoon’s quarters so they can catch some Zs.”

Rev turned his head and, as expected, caught Hvarser mouthing, “I’m not a Marine.” He loved the Alliance soldier, but she was proud of her service and hated being labeled as a Union Marine.

He bit back a smile and turned back to the first sergeant, who said, “And after you’re done with the skipper, I’ll take you to the chief’s mess, and then you can use my stateroom to sleep.”

Conveniently keeping me out of your hair until you can get me off the ship. Take care, first sergeant. The SNCO mafia alliance only goes so far.

“Staff Sergeant Tsao, get everyone fed and in the rack. I’ll hook up with you later.”

“Got it, Sergeant Major.”

Sergeant Holmes led the others out of the hangar, and Rev followed the first sergeant into officers’ country, not to a CP.

Mann rapped on the sill and announced, “Skipper, Sergeant Major Pelletier’s here.”

“Enter!”

Rev stepped inside, but when the first sergeant started to follow, he said, “I’ve got this.”

“Uh . . . I was going to take you to the chiefs’ mess after this,” she said.

“I can find it. I’d appreciate it more if you could take care of my team.”

The first sergeant stood there for a long moment, obviously trying to come up with something.

But in the end, all she said was, “Of course. I’ll take care of it. And if you want me, I’m on C-Deck. One-oh-four.”

Rev waited until the hatch closed before he turned to Captain Paulliac, who was standing and smiling at him. His first impression was that she was young. Very young.

“I’m honored to meet you, Sergeant Major,” she said, holding out her hand.

You have met me. At the pre-sailing brief. Then he reconsidered. Well, maybe we didn’t actually meet. But we did see each other.

“I’m pleased to meet you, too, ma’am,” he said, shaking her hand.

“Please, sit.”

Rev took a moment to look around the room. The Galaxy Explorer’s living spaces seemed like almost an afterthought, but Bundy’s stateroom was at least three times the size of the captain’s. That was one of the many downsides of being on a smaller ship.

She glanced at his arm as he sat, then when she realized he’d noticed, she made a too-obvious effort to tear her gaze away.

He raised the arm, and doing so pulled his utility blouse’s sleeve back, exposing more of his shiny Rycroft prosthesis. “It’s OK, ma’am. I don’t mind.”

That clearly flustered her, and she stammered out a “Sorry, Sergeant Major.”

First impressions are often wrong, but Rev already had a gut feeling about what was going on with the company.

“When Lieutenant Colonel Bundy told me he was sending a team with IBHUs over, I never thought that I’d get you . . . I mean, that he’d send you, of all people, over to us.”

Rev kept his face emotionless. He was rather well known throughout the Corps, and he’d come up against hero worship on occasion, but usually by new privates. He wasn’t sure he’d ever had a captain fawn over him before.

And that changed his tack. He had planned on simply observing the situation for a day or two, but the captain’s demeanor, the barely concealed arrogance of the first sergeant, and the fact that he and his team were heading to the Loman’s Haven, pretty much threw that out the window.

He was going to address this head-on.

“It had to be me, ma’am. I’m the only enlisted Marine in the task force senior to First Sergeant Mann.”

She flushed, and Rev knew he’d hit the nail on the head.

“There’s no issue with the first sergeant that would require your attention. I’ve got everything under control here.”

“With all due respect, ma’am, I don’t think you do. And neither does Lieutenant Colonel Bundy.”

Rev knew he was pushing here, but if they were cross-decking again, he didn’t have much time. He had to take a few liberties, and from what he’d seen from the captain in the minute he’d observed her, she wasn’t going to get a hair up her butt and try and put him in his place.

“Let me ask you this. Whose idea was it to place my team on the Haven?”

“The first sergeant’s,” she said, her voice faltering. “But the XO agreed. Why? Is it a bad idea?”

So, is it the first sergeant and XO working together?

“No, ma’am. It’s a sound tactical decision, in fact. But why wasn’t it your call?”

“I . . . well . . .”

“You are the company commander, Captain. The first sergeant, the XO, hell, any snuffie can advise you, but none of them make decisions. You are the one who makes them.”

She looked down at her desk, not meeting his eyes. “Well, I did go along with it, Sergeant Major.”

“You don’t ‘go along’ with anything, Captain. You take their advice, then you make the decision.”

The captain was almost squirming in her chair, and Rev decided to back off a bit.

“Look, ma’am. The Marine Corps, in its infinite wisdom, decided that you were worthy of holding the rank of captain. Very few people are afforded that opportunity. You do understand that, right?”

“Yes, sir,” she said in a quiet voice.

Rev let the “sir” mistake slide. But it just cemented what he suspected.

His voice got slightly harder again. “So, if the Marine Corps thinks you are capable of being a company commander, then why don’t you think so?”

“I am capable,” she said, showing just a bit of a spark.

Good. At least, that’s something.

“It’s just that . . .”

“It’s just what?”

Her eyes shifted back and forth across her stateroom, looking at everything except for him.

“It’s the first sergeant,” she said in a rush, spilling the words out. “She’s, she’s . . . she’s always working against me. Her and the XO. She cuts me down at the knees every chance she gets with her condescending smile, with her ‘Oh, you’ll learn, ma’am.’ ‘Ma’am!’ She says it like it’s an insult.”

Anger showed through. It was as if she’d been bottling her emotions up for too long, and Rev had just opened the floodgates. But the gates immediately closed when she finally looked at him with almost horror.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that, Sergeant Major!”

Yes, you did, Captain.

“What’s her date of rank, Punch?”

<November first of last year.>

“Is she a mustang?”

<No. She was commissioned directly out of the University of San Gabriel.>

So, she’s a very junior captain with no enlisted time. Kinda strange for a mission of this magnitude.

But it also cemented the opinion he was forming of her. She wasn’t experienced, and she didn’t have a very outgoing personality. Throw in a domineering first sergeant, and possibly an XO as well, and she was being bulldozed.

She probably didn’t know what to do, where to go. There were more senior Navy officers on the Wahoo to whom she could go, but from the looks of it, she hadn’t done that, which wasn’t surprising. Marines tended to keep their dirty laundry in-house. So, with Rev here, and her obvious deference toward him, that had given her the opportunity to vent.

Which now horrified her that she’d done so.

Rev wasn’t there to transform the captain into a Chesty Puller. He was there to analyze what was going on and report back to Bundy. If he could take corrective action, all the better, but with her being an officer, he was a little more limited in what he could do. He could offer advice, but it was up to her to make a change, something he didn’t think she had it in her to do.

There was, however, something he could do to make a mid-course correction. But first, there was the captain sitting miserably across from him.

“Ma’am, you are not going to get along with everyone else in your career. I know we stress the brother and sisterhood of the Corps, and that’s basically true. But the fact of the matter is that some personalities clash. It’s inevitable. When that happens, what does matter is how you’re gonna handle it? How are you gonna manage the personnel you command to achieve the mission. That’s what counts.

“And with all due respect, you’re not doing that now. You are not commanding, and that is your job.”

“But—”

“No buts, ma’am. If your first sergeant is working against you, take action to make it work. That’s your duty. Personal preferences don’t come into the equation.”

Her eyes dropped to her desktop again. “I don’t know if I know how, Sergeant Major,” she said, almost too quietly for even his augmented hearing to pick up.

If she can’t get the confidence, she might be a lost cause.

Rev believed in giving people chances to make the grade, but she was commanding almost two hundred Marines. It would be almost impossible to change her out, given the circumstances, but he wasn’t sure Bundy could afford to keep someone who wasn’t able to command. He might have to bring her back to the Galaxy Explorer, which would put the company XO in charge. And if he was in cahoots with the first sergeant, that might be just as bad.

Rev took a deep breath. Time to build her back up.

“Ma’am, this is your company, and the Marines and sailors are your sacred charge. I don’t have an easy answer to your problems, but I know this. You’ve got it in you to fix the situation. And remember, sometimes any action is better than inaction. You can’t afford to back away.”

He tried to see how she was taking all of this. Hopefully, he’d lit a fire under her ass. And if not lit one, at least struck a few sparks that she might coax into a flame.

“And with that, I need to go attend to my Marines if we’re gonna be cross-decking to the Haven.” He stood up and said, “Just keep in mind what I’ve told you.”

He started to turn when she said, “Sergeant Major, should I change that and keep you on board the Wahoo?”

Rev stopped, and it took a strength of will not to roll his eyes.

Did any of that sink in?

He tried to keep the frustration out of his voice as he said, “Ma’am, it isn’t up to me. I’m attached to you, and that’s your decision.”

She raised her eyes to his.

“You said it was tactically sound, right?”

Rev just stood there, not saying a word.

The captain made a poor attempt to look in charge and said, “Well, if it’s tactically sound, I still want you to go over to the Haven.”

Well, it’s a start.

“Aye-aye, ma’am,” he said and left the stateroom.

<That was well done.>

“Think it will be enough?”

<I don’t have nearly enough data to make a guess as to that. The human mind is beyond comprehension. What will be your next step?>

“Just watch.”

Rev hadn’t been on the Wahoo before, but all Union Navy ships were laid out with the same numbering system. It didn’t take long for Rev to find the first sergeant’s stateroom.

He pressed the buzzer—for some unfathomable reason, Marines rapped on the doorsills of officers, but used the door buzzers or chimes for fellow enlisted.

“Come in,” the first sergeant said.

Rev opened the door. A first lieutenant was with her. They both looked guilty, like lovers caught in the act. But Rev didn’t think there was a sexual reason for that.

“Ah, Sergeant Major. This is Lieutenant Enid, the XO.”

Rev had already figured that out.

The lieutenant stood and offered his hand. “It’s good to meet you, Sergeant Major.”

Rev shook it and then said, “If you could give me a few minutes with the first sergeant, sir?”

“What? Oh, yes. Sure.” He looked at Mann and said, “Uh, we’ll get back to this matter later.”

“Roger that, sir,” the first sergeant said.

Rev closed the door after the XO, and the first sergeant offered him a seat. Her stateroom was even smaller than the captains, and they were sitting almost knee-to-knee.

“Was it a good meeting with the skipper?” the first sergeant asked, not able to hide the apprehension in her voice.

“It was a meeting. You know how that is. First Sergeant, let me ask you, what’s your opinion of Captain Paulliac.”

Relief washed over her to be replaced by excitement. “You saw it, too, then!”

“That she’s weak?”

“Oh, you don’t know the whole of it, Sergeant Major.” She leaned in closer. “I’ve never in my Marine Corps life seen an officer so weak.” Her voice dropped a few notches, and in a conspiratorial tone, she said, “She shouldn’t even be here. None of us should. I don’t know what you know, but we were on our dog and pony cruise, just about to pull into Macau Station, when our orders changed, and we were diverted to the task force.”

“Macau Station? Tough luck on that.”

“Don’t I know!”

Macau Station was one of what military personnel throughout human space called the Eight Wonder liberty ports. With the war over, the Union Navy and Marines had once again started up the show-the-flag cruises, commonly called dog and pony cruises. For most, the year-long cruises were a highlight of their service. They usually consisted of three ships and a Marine battalion. The main body of the battalion would be on the flagship, while a company or possibly two would be on the other ships. Being on one of the others, out of daily reach from the CO, was considered a plum situation.

Rev had been on a show-the-flag cruise with the Home Guard but never as a Union group, and he’d never hit any of the Eight Wonders.

“What you don’t know is why we were given the change in orders.”

Rev raised an eyebrow and waited. The first sergeant took that as a question.

“Captain P shouldn’t even be the skipper here. She’s Combat Support, but then her daddy pulled some strings and got her the company to punch her ticket.”

Rev raised his eyebrow higher, and this time, it was a question.

Mann lowered her voice even more. “Her daddy is Major General Paulliac,” she said as if that answered all of his questions.

While Rev had served in the Home Guard and the First Human Expeditionary Brigade, he was still a provincial Marine, and he didn’t know every flag officer in the regular Corps. The common names, though, were not a coincidence.

“Punch?”

<Major General Theo Paulliac is the 19th Marine Division Commanding General on San Gabriel.>

“Why didn’t you tell me that before?”

<Because I don’t have access to Captain Paulliac’s personal file, where her parents would be noted.>

“It seems as if daddy wasn’t happy about her MOS, and he wanted her to have infantry command time. More than that, though, he wanted her out of sight of the battalion CO. He knew she was weak, and a bad fitness report from the CO would be the kiss of death.”

The first sergeant was excited, and Rev could see she was enjoying spreading the gossip.

Rev took a moment to let it sink in. That probably explained why the captain was commanding a company on what was a very high-profile mission.

The first sergeant might very well be right. If her father knew she was weak, then having her company out of sight of her commanding officer would let her punch her ticket with a far less chance of a sub-par fitness report and one which would be written by the Wahoo’s commanding officer and wouldn’t carry much weight. And Navy officers were notoriously more lenient in writing fitness reports.

Whatever the background maneuverings, they didn’t change anything in the here and now, though. And in a way, it raised the problems up a few notches.

Rev blanked his face and asked, “So, you have a weak company commander, put in place through political maneuvering. What are you doing about it?”

The first sergeant broke into a huge smile and said, “Me and the XO have got it covered, Sergeant Major.” She leaned back and locked her hands behind her head. “We’ve shut the bitch out. She may be commanding on paper, but she’s got zip in the way of authority. Nada. We run the company.” She broke her hands and leaned forward again. “Or should I say, I run the company. The XO knows I’m the one who can do it, and he backs me up when I need an officer.”

She looked extremely pleased with herself as she waited for Rev to compliment her.

Rev sat silently for a long moment, then nodded. “What’s your job, First Sergeant?”

“What?”

“What is your job?”

She looked confused at the question. “Uh, to take care of my Marines. To make sure everyone gets home in one piece.”

“And with Captain Paulliac? What’s your job with her?”

The knowing smile came back. “Keep her from getting us killed.”

“I’ll agree with that,” he said, and her smile got bigger. “I just don’t agree with how you’re choosing to do that.”

The smile disappeared. “What?”

The neutral voice went by the wayside, and Rev’s warrior self rose within him. Cold steel took over his voice.

“Your job as an SNCO, perhaps your most important job, is to train your junior officers,” he snapped.

“What? Hey, wait a minute, you—”

“No, you wait a minute,” he said, standing to loom over her.

Rev didn’t try and use his size to intimidate anyone as a rule, but if it was a tool in his toolbox . . .

It worked. She leaned back as if to get away from him. He wanted her on the defensive, and he was getting it.

“How do you keep Captain Paulliac from getting Marines killed? You train her, by the Mother. You make her a better officer!”

“But she’s beyond hope,” she said. “I told you, she’s a political hack!”

“All the more reason to take this opportunity to develop her, don’t you think? You regular Marines, you’re much more political than we are in the provinces.”

It was a needless dig, but that didn’t make it untrue.

“So, if her father keeps climbing, don’t you think daughter will be pulled along in his wake? Don’t you think that makes it even more imperative that someone makes a good officer out of her before it’s too late?”

Rev had been pissed off at what the first sergeant was doing, but as he was listening to her smug attitude, he was getting angry. And he was letting that anger gain control.

“This is the way it’s gonna be, First Sergeant Mann. As of this second, you are gonna quit blocking and subverting your captain. You are gonna become her guiding angel. You are gonna take her under your damn angel wings and do your damnedest to give her the benefit of your many years of experience. You are gonna teach her to become the best officer she can be. Do . . . you . . . understand . . . me?”

Mann had pulled back, and her mouth gaped as he tore into her. But when he stopped, her own anger blossomed into flame. She stood and put her face up to his.

“Who the hell do you think you are, coming over here to my house and telling me what to do?”

“I’m your sergeant major; that’s who I am.”

“Sergeant Major? Shit, I’ve got ten years more service than you do!”

“Which means jack shit, except that maybe if you understood your duties as a SNCO better, you’d be the one to make E9.”

That was a low blow, especially given how he made sergeant major. And she knew it.

She laughed. “Really? We all know how you made E-9. You’re not a real sergeant major.”

Rev made a show of looking at his chevrons. “The Marine Corps says I am.”

Mann sneered. “I don’t give a flying fuck. And I don’t give one for Paulliac, either. So, you can take your learned teacher crap and shove it up your genny-loving traitor ass.”

Rev’s eyes widened, and he involuntarily clenched his fists.

“What, that surprises you? Lots of Marines feel like me. You people’ve got no place in my Corps, and now everyone knows it. That’s why you’re exiled out of humanity, just like the gennies.”

Rev regained a modicum of control. “I don’t care what you think of me, First Sergeant. But you will do what I told you.”

Mann was gaining more confidence after her initial shock. “And how do you plan to make me?”

What is she, a child? How will you make me?

“Last I heard, Delta Company is attached to us. I’m the sergeant major. I don’t think you have much of a choice. If you want to continue your career, if you want to make E-9 someday, you will do as I tell you.”

“A: You are not my commander. B: Like I said. You’re an exile. You are banned for life, while in another year or so, we’ll be done with this wild goose chase and go back to the real world.”

Rev just stared at her, wanting to wipe that arrogant smile off her face. There was truth to what she said. He wasn’t her commander. He could go to Bundy, but the thought of having to do so was unpalatable.

There was one thing he could do. He’d never taken this step before, but as he’d just done a few moments ago, if it was in his toolbox . . .

“Do you have General Echo’s personal number? Or General Simpson’s?”

“What?” She looked confused at his change of tack.

“Do you have their numbers?”

“No, of course not,” she said warily.

“I do.”

The confusion disappeared to be replaced with fear as she realized what he meant.

Oh, so you’re regretting your smart-ass comments now? Too late.

Neither former commandant was on active duty now, but they still carried plenty of clout within the Corps. And a former commandant could sink a first sergeant without raising a sweat.

General Echo probably would do it if Rev told him why he was asking. Maybe General Simpson would, too.

“I believe both of them are back in the ‘real world,’ First Sergeant. And they both have lots of time now, to prune the Corps of rotten leaves . . . I mean, first sergeants.”

Defeat was written all over Mann’s face. It seemed she wanted to make E-9 after all, and she knew Rev could crush that dream.

Checkmate.

Rev calmed his tone, and in an almost comradely manner, said, “I need to go get ready to cross-deck. Uh . . . don’t bother coming over to the Haven while I’m there. You need to start working on your captain. She’s weak, you told me, so you’ll have your task cut out for you.”

She gulped and nodded. She was angry—furious, in fact. But she knew she had to comply—or, at least, make it seem like she was.

Rev started to go, then made a show of turning back. “Oh, and First Sergeant. Before the Wahoo detaches and heads back, I’ll be checking up on Captain Paulliac to see her progress. If you really are sergeant major material, then I’ll find out she’ll have made great strides.”

With that, he turned and walked out. He didn’t know if there would be a happy ending to all of this, but at least he’d set things in motion for an improvement.

<Damn, you’re good.>

“Yeah, I guess I am.”

11

Aylee took a hesitant step before looking up at Rev in wonderment.

“As it learns from you, it will get easier. You’ll be walking better and better.”

With Punch’s help, he understood almost all of the Haven English once his brain made the connections, and he learned the unusual sentence construction, but he might not have been a hundred percent accurate in speaking it. Aylee seemed to understand him, though.

She bent over to look at where the Hotchkins prosthesis was attached to her stump.

“This is wonderful,” the young woman stammered out.

The Hotchkins K-30 was a temporary full-leg prosthesis, an almost one size fits all, adjustable to the right or left leg, that could be adjusted to various lengths and stump width and placement. The control was a band that encircled the thigh above the stump and read the nerve impulses. Using teaching feedback, the more a person used one, the easier and better using one became.

The off-the-shelf prosthetic was common for remote locations or long-range ships and were temporary measures for people until they could get to a facility that could print up a personal one.

The Galaxy Explorer had the ability to do that, but it would entail Aylee to spend up to a week on the ship, and that wasn’t possible now. But the ship carried four full-leg models, and Bundy had agreed to let Rev have one, which he snagged just before debarking.

While extremely high-tech in its own right, it was well behind the curve from an operational standpoint. But when compared to the makeshift prosthesis, made from scrap, it was light years better.

Upon reaching the Loman’s Haven, delivering it had been the first thing he’d done. Call it fellow amputees helping each other. But it also fell in with the military culture of helping civilians in need. “Humanitarian Relief” was the official term.

Aylee balanced on her right leg and lifted the prosthesis. With a few fits and starts, the knee flexed and unflexed.

“Every time you do that, the leg understands what you want better. In a few days, you won’t have to deliberately think to do it.”

He flexed his own prosthesis, running it through its full range of motion. The other IBHUs were weaponed up, but for this, Rev thought having his prosthetic arm might be better.

Aylee lowered her leg and took a step forward, arms outstretched to him, but the leg’s tiny AI was still learning, and she fell into him. Rev caught her and lifted her back up.

A tear was running down her face.

“Thank you,” was all she said.

And that was enough.

She turned and beckoned to the people who’d gathered to watch. A small boy was standing there, an elderly man’s hands on his shoulders. As Aylee beckoned, the boy broke free to sprint to her. She had to stick her new leg out as she crouched with her organic leg to sweep him into her arms.

“Very strategic,” King George said as he stepped up beside Rev.

“What do you mean?”

“You want us to join your universe. So, you are showing us your marvels to tempt us.”

Rev gave the man a glance. It was easy to think of the Havens as primitive and naïve. But while they might be lacking in technology, they were still modern humans with full mental capabilities. They were like explorers who land on a deserted planet and can’t get off. It was just that they’d been deserted for millennia.

“That’s not why I gave it to her. I just wanted to help her. It wasn’t an attempt to influence your decision.”

“Both can be true.”

“You will be able to determine what your future will be. It’s not up to us.”

I hope.

“We’ll see. But in the meantime, thank you for Aylee. You have made her life easier.”

He left Rev and walked up to where others were surrounding her now. The man was right, though. Both things could be true.

Rev’s main thought had been to help a fellow amputee. But he’d have been a fool not to realize that it was a way of showing the Havens that there were advantages to rejoining the rest of the human race.

He stood there for a long moment, watching the small boy stroke Aylee’s leg while the others congratulated her.

Screw it. Whatever they decide, it just feels good to help someone out.

* * *

“I understand what Mann and Enid say about the skipper. I just don’t think they’re going about it right,” Lieutenant Grimes said.

“Interesting that he puts Mann’s name first, like she’s in charge,” he subvocalized.

It fit in with his impression, though. He had only met the XO for a few moments, but with his interaction with Mann, it was obvious that she thought she was the company’s dominant force.

<It may be true. But it might also be true that Lieutenant Enid is using her as the patsy in an attempt to essentially take over the company. A lieutenant running a detached company in a mission like this would stand him in good stead.>

“Damn, Punch. For a hunk of crystal, you’ve sure got a devious mind.”

<It’s difficult not to consider such after observing you humans for so long.>

“Have you mentioned that to the XO?” Rev asked the platoon commander.

“A couple of us . . . well, Carrie Helm and me, we tried. But he said just to take care of our platoons. The company was on him.”

Rev didn’t really blame Grimes. He’d been in a tough position. Part of him thought the second lieutenant should have stepped up, maybe when they were still part of their task force, but now? Out on their own? That was a big order to fill.

“Does Colonel Bundy know what’s going on?”

Rev just gave the lieutenant a what-do-you-think look.

“Sorry. Of course, he does. That’s why you’re here.”

Rev had wanted to know what the platoon commander thought about the situation, but this was now getting into rockier territory. He’d taken the action he deemed appropriate, and now wasn’t the time to get deeper involved.

“Sergeant Major? You said you wanted to get out and be seen?” Tsao asked as she approached him.

Which is what he’d asked her to do before he’d approached the lieutenant. He hadn’t wanted to spend too much time chatting with Grimes and getting too many details, and her timing was impeccable.

“Excuse me, Lieutenant. I’m taking my team out to be seen. Let them know we’ve got three IBHUs here.”

“You’re not expecting any trouble, are you?”

“No, I’m not. But it doesn’t hurt to make it known that if anyone is considering it, the results might not be too good for them.”

Rev got up and walked over to where his IBHU was staged. He took off his prosthesis and put Pashu on.

“Check,” he said as he put her through his regular routine of motions.

<All systems green. Power is at Eighty-three-point-two percent.>

“Keep watching the power consumption. It’ll be quicker now, and we’ve got another five or six days to go.”

<Roger.>

When in a PAL, an IBHU drew from the combat suit. When a Marine was out of the PAL, it had to rely on its internal power source for movement and the beamer, and that depleted much quicker than the PALs’ powerpacks. Each of them had two spares, which should be enough, but Rev wanted the drain monitored.

Once he was hooked up, he tested the net. Each of them had a throat mic and an earbud if they needed to use the team net to communicate, but otherwise, they could just talk normally to each other. He gave the go-ahead to Tsao, and one of the Delta Company Marines opened the door into the central hall.

A dozen or so Havens immediately perked up, and that interest increased when they noted the IBHUs. There didn’t seem to be any fear or antagonism. In fact, they looked interested. But any competent soldier would be interested in an enemy’s weapons.

Come on, Rev. Don’t be so suspicious. They’re not the enemy.

He was reasonably sure of that, but too many years in uniform gave him a degree of caution, even suspicion. He’d had allies turn into enemies and enemies into allies, and sometimes, it was hard to tell the two apart at any given time.

There were two main villages in the ship and several smaller communities. Rev wanted to make the circuit of the villages and hit some of the others. Depending on how much time they spent in each place, they could do that in four or five hours while not pushing it.

Rev put Hvarser on point with Tsao right behind. He’d considered Randigold, but if anyone might get a little trigger-happy, it would be her. He gave the signal, and the formation stepped off.

Technically, it was still a formation. But Rev had told them to soften the edges. The Havens might not be familiar with military operations, but there was something threatening about any military formation. Rev considered the threat level low, and by loosening it up, they could still react if necessary but not present such an aggressive front.

As they moved into the jungle, several of the children accompanied them, weaving their way around each of them in a sort of elaborate dance. As they made their circuit, they’d stop in front of Randigold, Tsao, and him, point at their IBHUs, and shout, “Hootoomoo,” something Rev couldn’t figure out.

“What does ‘hootoomoo’ mean?” he asked Punch.

<I don’t know. It’s one of the words that have developed over the centuries that may or may not have a link to English, and thus, modern Standard. Without context, we can’t determine a meaning.>

“No context? They’re pointing at us when they say it.”

<They are using it in reference to the three of you, but it could be anything from calling you all-powerful angels to saying that you smell like rat farts.>

Rev almost faltered in his step. “You just said we smell like rat farts?”

<I did not. I said the children could potentially be saying that.>

“But rat farts? You don’t use terms like that, Punch.”

<I’m not sure why you are taking issue with my choice of words. The term is a reasonable choice when trying to illuminate a range of possibilities.>

Rev grunted. He was sure Punch was screwing with him. He didn’t tell as many jokes as he used to, but he seemed to be learning to mess with Rev, giving him a hard time.

Rat fart. Give me a break.

A skinny, barefoot young boy in only a pair of shorts ran up to Randigold. Before he could label her, she bent over and shouted, “Hootoomoo!” He stopped dead, eyes wide open, before he shrieked with laughter, then the other kids ran over to Randigold as well.

Now you’ve done it, Eth.

He bemusedly watched the kids. They were all pretty dirty, and one little girl, barely big enough to walk, it seemed, had snot running down her face that cleaned a path through the dust on her lips and cheek.

Get ready, Reverent. You’ll have your own little girls soon enough.

The thought both terrified and excited him.

They passed through one of the small communities. A kid ran into a shack, but two more ran out to join the parade. An old lady watched from the shack’s window—a simple opening without glass or plastaline—and quietly watched them approach.

Hvarser asked on the team net, “Do we stop here. Sergeant Major?”

Rev looked around. Three shacks, only one with an adult in view. “No, let’s head for the first village. We’ll stop there.”

They continued along the path. Without his PAL, Rev was open to the elements, and he was struck by two things as he walked along. One was the humidity. He was sweating faster than his utilities could wick it away. He’d welcome the “rain,” which should fall in another fifty-three minutes, according to the timer he’d set.

The other was the smell. It wasn’t bad. It was just wet and dank, if those two words had a smell. And old. He took a deep sniff.

Yeah, old. That’s what it smells like.

Rev took another sniff and sneezed. He’d inhaled one of the tiny midges that swarmed them as they moved. It was only by closing off one nostril and forcibly blowing out the other that he got the little thing out.

“Who puts annoying bugs on a century ship?” he asked on the team net.

“It’s all part of the ecological considerations, Sergeant Major,” Tsao said.

It was rhetorical, Tum. I know about the ecology.

He didn’t bother to say anything, though. Up ahead, he could see the outskirts of the village.

They attracted quite a crowd as they entered. Rev knew by now that the Havens had thought they were the only humans in existence. They had an idea of an “outside” of their world, but it was inhabited by demons and other entities who wished them harm.

To have other humans amongst them was world-shattering. Most seemed excited, but there were quite a few who stared sullenly at the team as they entered the village.

“We’re gonna stay here for half an hour. Take it easy, mingle with the locals, but stay alert and ready for anything,” he said.

“Can’t take it easy and stay alert, Sergeant Major. Which one do you want?” Randigold asked.

“Stop being a smartass, Eth. Unless you want to stay alert for everyone else so we can relax?”

“Nope, nope, nope, Sergeant Major. I can do both!”

Tiwari chuckled, and Rev said, “I thought you could.”

For the next twenty minutes, people gathered around. Some just watched, but others asked questions on an amazingly wide variety of questions. Rev would have assumed that they’d all be concerning the “outside,” but they were pretty broad. He did his best to answer them while keeping things general, without deep dives. Part of that was because they didn’t have the background to understand some of the answers. But a big part was that until they decided what they wanted to do, Bundy didn’t want them to be indoctrinated with the modern galaxy and what went with that.

“Sergeant Major. Your three o’clock. Is that the infamous Lalu?” Tsao asked over the team net.

“Lalu?” he asked, turning to spot the staff sergeant.

She pointed and said, “Lalu. The cougar.”

<The older woman with the younger lovers,> Punch prompted.

“Oh, yeah. I remember now.”

He spun around and spotted who Tsao was speaking about. “Older” was relative. He’d imagined someone in her seventies, for some reason. If this was Lalu, she looked to be in her upper thirties, maybe early forties.

Standards of beauty varied throughout human space, and the woman certainly didn’t stand out to Rev from a purely physical standpoint. What did stand out was her assured manner, as if she knew who she was and was more than satisfied with that. She owned the space around her as she walked up the street toward them.

And around her, several of the teenagers had their eyes locked on the woman with longing. A few of the older people noticed her approach, and they made way for her.

As far as Rev knew, Lalu had no position of authority. And if that really was her, then people were ceding her deference based on her personality.

Randigold broke from the four people talking to her to intercept the woman. “Are you Lalu?”

The woman stopped. She was surprised by the question, Rev could see, but she wasn’t blown away.

“Yes, I am. How did you know that?” she said in a voice of liquid gold.

“Lucky guess,” Randigold said. “And believe me, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” She hooked her arm through Lalu’s and started leading her to the side.

The woman shrugged and let Randigold take her away.

“What’s she doing?” he asked Tsao on the P2P.

“It’s Eth, Sergeant Major. I’d guess she’s asking for tips.”

Rev laughed and said, “Maybe so.”

He knew she wasn’t going to cause an international (if that was the term) incident, so he let her go.

“Do you have cats?” a young girl asked him.

He turned back to the people around him. The girl, probably around ten, he thought, although Rev wasn’t so good at estimating a child’s age, had been going down a list of animals that she interjected between the others’ questions.

This one caught more attention. “Are they even real?” a woman asked.

“Yes, they’re real, Matty,” the girl scolded. “They’re in the book.”

“Yes, they’re real,” Rev said. “I don’t have one myself. I’m gone from home too much, but I—”

“Sergeant Major?” Tiwari said, rushing up. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but . . .” He pointed over to where the main trail hit the village.

Lieutenant Grimes and Corporal Tildenstoff were jogging into the village. They spotted him at about the same time and altered their course to meet him.

“Excuse me, but I need to see what this is about,” he told the people before he stepped forward.

“Sergeant Major! We found you!” the lieutenant said.

They were both soaked in sweat, but neither was breathing hard.

“Yes, you did. What’s up, sir?”

“I got a message for you, but given what it was, I thought I’d better tell you in person.”

Alarm bells went off, and Rev’s hair stood on end. He reached forward and grabbed the lieutenant’s arm. “What’s wrong? Is it Miko? Gunnery Sergeant Pelletier?”

“No, nothing’s wrong. And no . . . well, yeah. I guess it is about the gunny.”

“What . . . what?”

“Congratulations, Sergeant Major. You’re a father!”

12

Rev chewed his fingernails, which were already down to the quick. He’d been a bundle of frustrated nerves for the last ten days. First, because he was a father, something that hadn’t really sunk in. It didn’t seem real.

And then, because he couldn’t do anything about it. The ship wasn’t leaving just to take him back. They had to wait for the first ship to arrive, which turned out to be the Paxus battle cruiser. It was a little bit of an overkill, but maybe they wanted to be the biggest frog in the pond when the Tiganans arrived.

Then there was a full day of turnover: meetings, introductions, tours of the Loman’s Haven. Rev had been about to head to engineering and fire up the bubble drive himself before they finally got underway.

And then, it was the trip back to NP-3166 and the rest of the task force. Physics couldn’t be hurried, and the same reasons that caused the Exile Fleet to make multiple small jumps to intercept the Loman’s Haven caused them to take the same number going back.

Meanwhile, Rev’s imagination was going at warp speed. All he knew was that the girls were healthy. He hadn’t heard anything about Tomiko herself, and that worried him. All he had was the text message that informed him of the girls’ birth.

He’d known Marines who’d become fathers while deployed, especially during the heavy recruitment periods where new Marines were brought in after their partners had either become impregnated the normal way or, more commonly, because their partner used stored sperm or ovum.

It didn’t happen often. The common saying was that if the Marines wanted you to have kids, they’d have issued you them. And during wartime, deployed Marines were on blockers. But it did happen, and Rev had to deal with Marines before who might not see their child for months.

He just never thought he’d face the same situation. Yet here he was.

What was worse, he’d promised Tomiko he’d be there. It might not be his fault, but he was afraid she wouldn’t forgive him. He wasn’t sure he’d forgive himself. His daughters’ birth, and he wasn’t there.

“Nervous?” Tsao asked.

Rev looked down at his fingernails. Two were bloody. He gave a wry smile and showed them to Tsao.

“No, not nervous at all.”

She laughed and said, “Good thing we IBHUs have only one hand with nails to chew.”

Rev shook his head, then joined her in laughing. “I guess you’re right, Tum.”

“Five minutes until arrival,” the AI said over the shuttle’s speakers.

“This is it. You’ll be meeting the little sergeant majors soon,” Tsao said. “Did you ever think it would happen?”

“No, of course not. We’re exiled, for the Mother’s sake. And we’ve got blockers. We’re not even supposed to have kids, Tum.”

Tsao’s smile froze, then faded, and a shadow went across her eyes.

“Oh, Tum. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to say it like that.”

“It’s true, though. You’re right.”

She leaned back into her harness and focused her attention on the other side of the shuttle.

<That wasn’t particularly considerate.>

“Don’t I know it,” Rev said.

He’d been so caught up in his predicament, and he’d bitched more than a little to Tsao and Lieutenant Grimes before he’d realized that Tsao and many of the others would sell their souls for a chance to have kids.

Before they were exiled, it was just a matter of waiting until they were discharged. There was always a later to have children. With the exiles, there was no later. The present situation was going to continue until they were dead.

Open mouth, stick in foot.

Rev leaned back and tried to will the shuttle to speed up. He still didn’t know what Tomiko’s condition was. He could have called her once the Wahoo reached the system, but he was afraid to. If this was bad news, he didn’t want to get it via a call or a message. Call it superstition, but he needed to find out in person.

The five minutes stretched out for a couple of hours, it seemed, but finally, the shuttle landed in the hangar, and the ramp lowered. The others waited for Rev to bolt out the back and rush for the living spaces.

“Congratulations,” several sailors yelled at him as he rushed by.

He didn’t acknowledge them.

The hangar deck was so large that the inboard bulkheads were actually belowdecks to the chiefs’ quarters, so Rev bounded up two sets of ladders, crossed over to his corridor, and raced for their stateroom. He was out of breath by the time he reached it, and he threw open the hatch.

“Tomiko!” he shouted.

Kat was sitting in the chair, half asleep, and she jumped up in a start. “Rev! You’re back!”

Seeing Kat in there alone made his heart fall like a rock. He’d convinced himself that Tomiko was fine, that they’d get a message to him if she wasn’t, but now, all his fears came rushing over him like a tsunami.

“Where’s Miko, Kat? Is she OK?”

“Miko’s fine, Rev. She’s in the gym. I’m just babysitting to give her a break,” she said, pointing at the bottom rack . . .

Rev froze the moment he saw the two bundles. He took a step closer.

“Is that them?” he asked, suddenly cowed.

“Reverent Pelletier, meet your daughters, Willow and Aspen Pelletier.”

Rev leaned in until he could see two round, perfect faces, their eyes screwed shut, their tiny chests rising up and down. Each was wrapped tightly in some sort of cloth with only their faces visible.

“Willow and Aspen,” he said in awe. “Can I pick them up?”

Kat laughed. “You’re their father, Rev. Of course, you can pick them up.”

Rev reached out and picked up Willow, handling her like fine bone China. Or was she Aspen? He sure didn’t know.

Afraid to drop her, he wrapped both his organic and prosthetic hands around her, then looked at her sister.

“Let me help you,” Kat said, picking the other one up. “Here, crook your arms.”

She placed one girl in one arm, then number two in the other. Rev stood there, looking at two little humans in his arm, each identical to the other.

“Rev, look at me,” Kat said.

He looked up just as Kat snapped a holo with her wristcomp.

“Perfect!” she said.

Rev was numb. He’d known he was a father for ten days, but it hadn’t sunk in. Now, as he was holding his daughters, it was real.

I’m a father!

One of the girls squirmed, then opened her mouth and yawned.

“Why are they wrapped up like mummies? Is there something wrong with them?”

“It’s called swaddling, and it’s normal. It makes them feel secure.”

I guess there’s a lot I need to learn. Why didn’t I do that before?

“Punch, I’m gonna need your help with them.”

<I’m here for you, Rev.>

“Why don’t you go get Miko?” Kat asked. “She’ll want to see you.”

“Is she pissed?”

Kat rolled her eyes. “She’s Miko. You weren’t here. What do you think?”

I expected that.

He sighed and asked, “You said she was in the gym? Which one?”

“The midships gym.”

“I’d better go.”

He started for the hatch when Kat said, “Leave the girls here, Rev.”

“What? Oh, OK,” he said. “Right.”

He handed the girls back to her. “Thanks, Kat.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll spoil them rotten. That’s what aunts do.”

“That’s right. You’re an aunt now.”

He leaned over and gave each girl a kiss on the forehead.

Wow, they even smell good.

He felt like a million credits as he started down the passage. Sergeant Suarez spotted him as he approached the gym.

“You’re back, Sergeant Major. Congratulations on the twins!”

This time, he replied. “Thanks, Sergeant.”

His good mood lasted until he saw Tomiko’s back on the treadmill. She was laboring, unlike the running machine she normally was. He frowned. Modern medicine was amazing, but she’d still just had her belly cut open. Wasn’t it a little early to be running like that?

He approached her from behind, and she slowed to a stop and stared ahead.

Just before he opened his mouth, she said, “So, you finally returned.”

Her voice was flat and emotionless.

“I just got back.”

There was a long moment of silence that Rev didn’t know how to break.

“You weren’t here.”

“I know.”

“You promised.”

“I know.”

He felt miserable, but he didn’t know what to do.

With a sigh, she turned around.

“I wish you had been there. It was . . . rough.” She paused for a moment, then asked, “Have you seen your daughters?”

His heart fluttered at the words. “Yes, I went there first. Kat was there, and she told me—”

“Aren’t they perfect?”

“Yes, they are,” he said.

Tomiko opened her arms and said, “Come here, Rev.”

A wave of relief washed over him, and he stepped forward into her embrace and hugged her so tightly that she gasped.

“Oh, sorry. Your belly!” he said, releasing her and stepping back.

“My belly’s fine, you ox. You just squeezed me too tight.”

“It’s fine? Already? After they cut you open?”

She looked at him, her eyebrows drawn together. “You didn’t hear?”

“Hear what?”

“I had to give natural birth.”

“What? I thought one of them was upside down, and there was something about the umbilical.”

“She was. And that’s why the birth was so difficult. We almost lost Aspen, Rev. Doc Rima and her team did their best, but none of them were trained for this.”

“I don’t understand. Why didn’t they do a cesarean?”

“The damn machine went down.”

“Down? How?”

“It was fine in the morning, but when I started having contractions, it was down. Corrupted.”

“Corrupted?”

“You’re repeating me, Rev. Yes, corrupted.”

“Like the printer? Like the scrubber?”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

Rev’s mind was churning. For new equipment to be corrupted like that was rare. One piece might be bad luck. Two pieces, a bad coincidence. Three? That was stretching it.

Could it be sabotage? His thoughts immediately went to Agent Wolf. But why would he sabotage anything? It didn’t make sense.

But if someone had deliberately put the autodoc out of commission, then they’d put his wife and daughters at risk.

His warrior self, who’d been quiet for almost two weeks, tried to claw his way up from the depths. He reveled in the feeling for a few moments before he pushed him back down.

If this wasn’t some huge, unfortunate coincidence, someone was going to pay.

“I think all these cases of corrupt equipment might be sabotage. Let’s look into it,” he told Punch.

<Roger. I’ll start looking for information.>

‘I’m sorry I wasn’t there for it, Miko, when you needed me like that. I couldn’t bear . . . you, Aspen . . .”

“We’re fine. It was rough, but we’re fine.”

“And we’re a family. Imagine that. You, Willow, Aspen.”

“The names. Are you OK with them? You weren’t here, and they had to be registered . . .”

“They were never on our radar. How did you come up with them?”

She suddenly looked like a shy girl, unsure of herself. “I couldn’t think, and then I remembered how much you love trees, and so if you love them—”

“So, you didn’t pick Redwood and Fir?” he said.

“I know those are your favorites, but they didn’t sound too . . . oh, you bastard!” she said, giving him a hard shot in the upper arm when she saw the twinkle in his eyes.

“Ouch! I see giving birth hasn’t taken away your strength! OK, OK, Willow and Aspen it is.”

“Willow Elisabet for your mother, and Aspen Nesalia for your sister, Rev.”

A lump formed in Rev’s throat. A sudden feeling of loss almost overcame him, but it was tempered with the knowledge that new life had come as well. It didn’t make up for the loss, but it helped.

“I hope they grow to honor their namesakes,” he said, choking up.

Tomiko reached up, pulled Rev’s head down, and gave him a kiss.

“Come on, Rev. Let’s go see our girls.”

13

“Agent Wolf, may I talk to you for a moment?”

Wolf recoiled in surprise at Rev’s sudden appearance in front of him. Just as Rev had planned. He’d essentially ambushed the man as he left the civilian CP to head to chow.

“Uh . . . I suppose so, Sergeant Major,” he said, nervously looking around.

“Is everything OK, Zach?” one of the other civilians said as he took in Wolf’s countenance.

“Yes, yes. Everything’s fine,” Wolf said as he began to recover from his shock and regain control of himself. “The sergeant major and I just have some things to discuss.”

“OK. Are you still coming to lunch?” the other man asked, giving Rev a suspicious look.

Wolf looked at Rev, who said, “This shouldn’t take long.”

“Save me a seat, Kamal. I’ll be there in a bit.”

Wolf waited until the other man was farther down the passage to ask, “Where?”

Rev opened the hatch beside them and motioned for Wolf to enter. The space was little more than a closet with gray metal racks filled with supplies. But it would do.

“Congratulations on your daughters, Sergeant Major,” Wolf said pleasantly.

“Thank you,” Rev said automatically, then almost bit his tongue.

He’d surprised Wolf to keep him off-balance, but the man was an Omega Division agent and not a fool. He’d been able to gather himself, and by congratulating him, he’d taken back a little of the control.

Rev crowded Wolf’s personal space, although it didn’t seem to faze the man now. “Why are you sabotaging the ship?”

Wolf raised one eyebrow but otherwise had a poker face. “Sabotage?”

“Yes, sabotage. We’ve had three times already where we’ve lost vital equipment, all for corruption. The printer, then the scrubber right after. And now, the autodoc. But that’s where you screwed up. The autodoc put my wife and daughters in danger, so you made it personal.”

“Why would I make it personal, Sergeant Major?” he asked in a calm and measured voice.

Rev wanted to wipe that smug look off the agent’s face, but he knew Wolf was trying to goad him.

He shoved his warrior self back down and said, “Come on, Zach, if that’s even your real name. You’ve had it in for me since the beginning, after the asteroid.”

The agent broke his stone face the tiniest bit when the crook of his mouth ticked up slightly.

“You did consort with the enemy then.”

“The Fries were not our enemy, and I averted a firefight!” he snapped.

Rev knew Wolf was taking over and subverting what Rev wanted to get out. He took a deep breath to center himself.

“The Frisians were our adversary, though, and you went against the interests of the Perseus Union. It was my job to find out if you were a threat.”

“By locking us up and throwing away the key?”

Wolf shrugged. Whatever advantage Rev had achieved by surprising the man was gone.

“Your commandant found the key,” he said matter of factly.

Rev had known their release from the Omega Division/D-4 prison had come from on high, but he hadn’t realized it had gone to the commandant level.

“And I’d do the same again if I thought the Union was at risk,” Wolf continued. “As I would expect you’d take whatever action was necessary to save it.”

“I have taken action. I’ve put my life on the line more times than I can count.”

“My point exactly.”

<Don’t let him steer this,> Punch interjected.

Rev had planned this with his battle buddy’s assistance, but it was rare when Punch would push himself into a situation like this. But it was a good reminder, and Rev tried to get back on the offensive.

“And that’s why you tried to use Tomiko as leverage to get me to spy on my fellow Marines? Give me a break. You’ve had it in for me since the git-go. Me and Miko. I never did spy on them, you know. But of course, you know that. So, maybe it’s payback time? And is that why you just happen to be here with the rest of us? To keep an eye on the terrible hyper-augments?”

Wolf stared at him for what seemed to be forever until he finally said, “You’ve got it wrong.”

“What do I have wrong?” Rev snarled.

“Five times.”

“Five times what?”

“There have been potential acts of sabotage five times, not three. That’s five times that I know of. There could possibly be a couple of others.”

That wasn’t what Rev was expecting. And if it didn’t take the wind out of his sails, it sure made them luff a bit.

“Explain, Wolf,” he said, trying to retain the upper hand.

The agent seemed nonplussed at Rev’s posturing. He shrugged and said, “The three you mentioned, then a drive monitor and a T-relay console. All corrupted.”

For the second time in thirty seconds, Rev was gobsmacked.

Five cases? Why didn’t I know that?

“Five,” he repeated. “That’s not a coincidence. Who the hell is doing it?”

“That’s a good question.”

Rev let everything sink in. If Wolf was telling him this, was there someone else? Or was this just another elaborate Omega Division diversion?

“Your supposed job is head of security,” Rev said. “I’m assuming you really do have all those assets at your disposal?”

“Why wouldn’t I? That is my job.”

Rev snorted in disbelief, but he said, “Then you’ve got all the security cams. Who’s been to all of the equipment that went down?”

“No one, as far as I can tell. But the equipment was all corrupted, not broken. And that could be done from offsite.”

“Punch?”

<They are all connected, so yes. It wouldn’t be easy, but it’s possible.>

Rev stopped Wolf while full of righteous anger, and now he was deflating like a balloon.

“If we just disappeared into the black, it would relieve some headaches for Titan,” Rev said.

“It probably would.”

Wolf was revealing nothing. He might as well be discussing the weather.

“Which, you, being on board, would be situated to implement such an outcome.”

This time, there was a reaction. Wolf gave a little chuckle and said, “I would be. However, being on board myself, I’d suffer the same consequences as everyone else.”

You guys are fanatics, though.

Rev didn’t trust the Omega agent farther than he could throw him, which, in retrospect, was pretty far. The older gent couldn’t weigh more than sixty-five kilograms, and Rev had augmented strength.

But he also thought the guy had a strong inclination toward self-preservation. He’d been sure Wolf was behind the sabotage, but now, he was wavering.

“So, what are you going to do about it?” Rev asked.

“I still can’t rule you out, Sergeant Major.”

Rev grimaced in shock. “What, you think I had something to do with this? It was my wife and daughters who were at risk with the autodoc.”

“No, I don’t think you did, but I don’t know that. So, whatever I’m doing, as director of security, is staying with me for the meantime.”

“That’s it? I just have to trust that you’re doing something?”

Wolf shrugged.

Rev was at a loss. The man wasn’t offering him anything. Was he just going to have to accept that?

“What should I do right now, Punch?”

<You can let Lieutenant Colonel Bundy know about your suspicions and this conversation. This isn’t on your shoulders alone.>

Which was absolutely right. Rev had confronted Wolf without even going to White Eagle or Bundy first. That wasn’t how things were done. He knew that, but with the threat to Tomiko and the girls, he’d gone off half-cocked. Now, it was time to reel it in and get back on track. And as soon as he left the agent, he was going to brief Bundy on everything he knew and what he suspected. But knowing him, Bundy had already figured out something was going on.

“I’ll be watching you, Wolf.”

“I’d expect nothing less.”

Rev didn’t want to leave it at that, but he wasn’t sure what to say.

He turned for the hatch that led out to the passage when Wolf said, “For the record, Pelletier, you were wrong on the asteroid, even if things worked out for the better. And you’re a hot-headed, arrogant accident waiting to happen.”

Rev stopped, but he didn’t turn around. “Thanks for your honesty.”

“But I don’t think you’re a traitor. And you have an almost supernatural ability to end up doing the right for both the Union and humanity as a whole. You’ve earned the Nexus of Chaos title that you carry, but I’m glad we’re on the same side.”

Rev didn’t like the title. He didn’t think it was accurate, but he knew it was indelibly embedded in his reputation, and he’d learned to accept it. And if Wolf was being honest right now, he could accept that, too.

He didn’t acknowledge that, though, as he stepped away.

14

“I’m upping your Criosol,” Dr. Rima said. “I don’t particularly like the readings.”

“Sir? What’s wrong with them?” Rev asked.

“They should be holding steady, but the numbers are rising. Your PPCA is one-twenty-nine, and your GSD is twenty-nine-point-one. ”

Rev felt a hollow in the pit of his stomach, and he gulped. He’d assumed this was just another routine semi-annual test, something to endure and then get on with his life.

He’d learned enough by now to know that any PPCA above 140 was cause for concern. At 129, his was still below that, but the doctor didn’t seem to be taking it in stride.

“No one has mentioned anything about it for years now,” Rev said.

“Navy doctors, more anxious to get you back into the fight,” the older woman scoffed. “And Weislen’s Syndrome is a progressive disease, one that takes time to manifest.”

“Do I have the rot?” Rev asked, his thoughts immediately going to his daughters.

“No, you haven’t passed those numbers yet for that diagnosis. But you’re heading there. ‘Pre-rot,’ I’d call it.”

Rev just stared at the doctor. She was a civilian, but civil service who came out of retirement as a volunteer. Being a government employee, she was something of a bridge—not military, but not part of the civilian team either.

“If you up my meds, will that stop the progression? Can it stop the rot?”

She shook her head. “I’m sorry, Sergeant Major, but no. I hope it can delay the onset, but I’m afraid your future is mapped out in that regard.” She paused for a moment and then softly shook her head. “When the military, in its infinite wisdom, decided to pursue the heavier augments to make super soldiers, they knew what the consequences would be, but the bastards did it anyway. They never should have gone down this path.”

Many people thought the augments, and particularly the hyper-augments never should have been created. The mere fact that they had been exiled was proof enough of that. But Doctor Rima didn’t seem to hate Rev and the rest but rather pity them, despite her blunt manner.

“My girls are four months old, ma’am. How long . . . how long do I have?”

“I wish I could tell you. With upping your meds, I’m hoping for years. Maybe decades. But it can go quick, too.”

“I know. Cali Hu got it back during the Centaur War, but it took her within two months. I’m just wondering about my girls. Miko and I’ve only got my sister as family here—”

“I think, given the situation, that you’ve got a lot more family than you realize. But love those girls now. Treasure and help them grow up right.”

Rev bent over and looked at the fingernails on his right hand as if they were fascinating. He hadn’t expected this.

“Speaking of which, how are they? Are they sleeping through the night yet?”

Rev gave a rueful laugh. “In my dreams! Well, except that can’t happen because I’m not sleeping long enough to actually dream anything.”

The doctor laughed. “Gird your loins, Sergeant Major. I’d like to say it will get better soon, but it won’t. You’ve got a long journey ahead of you.”

I just hope I’m around long enough for them to grow up.

“I have to admit, I never thought I’d be delivering babies on this voyage. Especially natural birth. It was . . . rewarding. I think it sucks that everyone here is still on blockers.”

“They don’t want us breeding new hyper-augments,” Rev said with a little more bitterness than he intended.

“You know better than that, Sergeant Major. Some of the genetic modifications might or might not breed true, but this,” she said, sweeping a hand to encompass his body, “this is all physical modifications done once full body growth is reached. Babies won’t be born with the extra webbing and add-ons that let you support your IBHU. Besides, it’s not just you hyper-augments. It’s everyone, civilians and all.”

Rev nodded. He knew that, but with the birth of the girls, there had been some grumbling about the blockers when they were exiled forever. And from the sounds of it, Doctor Rima was sympathetic.

“There was a rumor a while back that one of the civilians was pregnant. Was there any truth to that?” Rev asked.

A tiny cloud passed over the doctor’s eyes, but she said, “Do you see any pregnant women around? That’s something a little difficult to hide. But to answer your question, no. I wish it were true, though.”

Rev got the feeling that she was telling the truth, but there was something more to it.

“What is a shame is that studies back in the First Expansion showed that a wide range of ages, from infants to the elderly, created the healthiest environments for the century ship crews as they started their voyages.”

“We’re not a century ship, ma’am.”

“But we are a century ship, though, in a way. No, we’re not going to settle a new planet, but the psychology involved, leaving home forever, is the same.” She paused for a moment, and in a quieter voice, said, “It really wouldn’t be difficult to rev . . . oh, never mind,” and in a normal voice added, “I’m just glad we’ve got your two angels with us. It’s good for the morale of all of us.”

Rev almost laughed. “Angels?” At the moment, they were two little bundles of crying, eating, and pooping . . . who he still loved very much, but they weren’t angels. It was the doctor who was the angel, stepping in when the autodoc went down.

“Miko and me, we appreciate everything you did, ma’am.”

She waved a dismissive hand at him. “Don’t ma’am me, Sergeant Major. Makes me feel old. Anyway, it’s my job, and it really was a pleasure.”

“I never did ask you. Did you ever find out what went wrong with the autodoc?”

“The AI was corrupted. How and why is a mystery. We had to wipe it, then run a new training module. Took almost five days to get it back up and running.

“It was bad timing for your wife, but it could have been worse if it failed before a mass casualty situation. Frankly, there are too many things that I couldn’t do without it.”

She took a moment to touch the small bud in her ear, and Rev could see her lips barely move as she subvocalized.

Then she looked up and said, “I’ll have the nanos programmed and ready this afternoon. Can you come back at 1615 for the infusion?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said with a heavy heart—not that he was getting the new dosage nanos, but that he had to get them in the first place. “I’ll be here.”

He stood up to leave, and she said, “Give my love to the girls.”

“I will.”

He stopped outside sickbay and leaned back against the bulkhead. Rev had faced death, even almost certain death, many times in his career. But he’d never been a father before, with two little people depending on him. And what Doctor Rima had done just now was to give him a death sentence. It was a kiss of mortality, and his very being feared leaving Tomiko alone to raise the girls.

Suck it up, Reverent. You’re not dying tomorrow.

He shook his head, then started for the hangar where the next mission was getting prepped. He’d gone only ten steps, though, when he diverted toward their stateroom.

Rev hesitated outside the hatch, rubbed his face, and forced a smile before opening the hatch.

“Where are my g--. Oh, Doctor Teo. I didn’t expect to see you here.”

The woman jumped up from where she’d been sitting on the rack, Willow in her arms—or was it Aspen? Tomiko could tell them apart even from a cry, but not Rev, not unless Punch helped him. They were too much alike for him to know which one was which, much to his chagrin.

“Oh, please, Sergeant Major. Call me Lian. I just wanted to spend a little time with these girls, and I thought Tomiko could use a break, so I just stopped by.”

“Tomiko” and “Lian?” They are on a first-name basis, and Tomiko trusts her to watch the girls? When did all of this happen?

“Is she in the gym?”

“She left thirty minutes ago.”

Tomiko was getting fanatical about the gym. Part of it was necessary. Her prolonged bed rest had gotten her out of shape, and her physical augments had been designed with her pre-pregnancy body. She needed to build back up to maximize those augments. And then there was the fact that if she wanted to go on missions, she needed to master all the moving parts that made an IBHU an IBHU.

But Rev knew part of it was her appearance. Tomiko was much smaller than most people, and with twins, she’d been huge. That had modified her body more than most augments. He’d caught her more than a few times standing in front of the mirror and pinching the extra skin around her belly. He assured her that she looked fine, but he didn’t think she was buying it.

Rev really didn’t care, though. To him, the stretch marks were reminders of the gifts she’d borne for them.

“Are you taking over here?” Dr. Teo asked, looking a little disappointed.

“I wasn’t scheduled to for another two hours. Are you . . . ?”

“I’d be happy to!” she said in a rush.

Doctor Rima was right when she said there was more “family” on the ship, both military and civilian. This might be the first time he’d seen Dr. Teo with the girls, but finding babysitters hadn’t been much of an issue.

“When Miko comes back, tell her I stopped by and am in the hangar now.”

“Got it. And don’t you worry about your girls. I used to take care of my sister’s boy all the time.”

She looked down and said, “Isn’t that right, Aspen?”

Rev frowned. She can tell them apart, and I can’t. I’m their father!

Rev watched her coo at Aspen for a moment before he turned and left. He’d been feeling more than a little sorry for himself after his appointment, and he’d been planning on letting Tomiko know what he’d been told. But after seeing Dr. Teo with his girls, he decided to let it slide for now. The doctor said it might be decades, so there was no use in burdening Tomiko at the moment. Later, maybe, after they saw how the increased dosage was doing. But not now.

He started for the hangar when his wristcomp buzzed. It was Strap, and he was having an issue with the load-out chief.

Rot or babies, Rev was still the sergeant major, and he had work to do.

He opened the comms. “Strap, you tell the chief that this is BS, and I’m on my way.”

15

“That’s 150 milliliters in the morning, then 125 every two hours,” Tomiko said.

“I know, Gunny,” Dr. Rima said. “Lian and I’ve got it covered.”

“And check their diapers every—”

“Gunny! Go! Between the two of us and all the other help,” Rima said, sweeping a hand to encompass the half-dozen others in the makeshift nursery who’d come to watch, “I think we can handle it. There’re only two of them, after all.”

She gave Kelly an odd look, then shifted back to Tomiko.

Tomiko seemed unsure, and she glanced at Rev.

“You can still stay back, Miko,” he said.

“No,” she said with determination. “It’s time I got back into the saddle.”

She leaned over to kiss the two girls, then made room for Rev to do the same.

“Auntie Kelly, too,” Kelly said as she bent over for a kiss as well.

“Let’s do it.”

Rev gave one last look at his daughters, and a little pang bubbled up from deep inside. They were only going to be gone for a few days, but this was going to be the first time that neither one of them would be with them for more than a couple of hours. Tomiko was right, though. They had a mission.

The three Marines left the nursery, which had been a storage space at the end of the Chiefs’ Country. Captain Bane had turned over the space as more practical than a parade of people going in and out of their stateroom. The girls still slept in the stateroom, but during the day, it was the nursery, which had already started to fill up with toys and mobiles. Every day, someone else dropped by with something they made or programmed a fabricator to print.

As they hurried to the armory, Tomiko had a bounce to her step. She had been going crazy since they left human space. Finally, she was getting off the ship and her feet on the ground in a mission.

Still, Rev knew there was a little motherly hesitation. What she didn’t realize was that he had a little fatherly hesitation as well. Dr. Rima was a medical doctor, and Teo was, well, certainly a capable person. But they weren’t the girls’ parents. He and Tomiko were.

“Am I doing the right thing?” Tomiko asked as they hurried to the armory.

“It was going to have to happen sometime. And Rima’s good people. She delivered them, after all,” Kelly said.

“Rev?”

“Kelly’s right. And we’ll be back in two or three days.”

Tomiko sighed. “I know I’m going to miss them, but by the Mother, it’s going to be good to get off the ship and start doing my job again.”

* * *

Tomiko was bouncing around like a kid on Christmas morning as she supervised the erection of the barrier. Kelly had been handling it during the previous landings, but if she resented Tomiko taking over, she didn’t show it. It was officially Tomiko’s job, after all.

The barrier was doubly important on this mission. This was the first time they were landing on a planet with its own life—primitive life, but life nonetheless. The swarms of small, insect-like creatures hovered over everything the Marines were doing. It looked like they were curious, but the initial analysis indicated that the various forms didn’t have the processing power to achieve that level of intelligence. And for Marines in PALs, it was doubtful that they could be any sort of threat, but the protocols had to be followed. If they were erecting the Lamix barrier on lifeless planets, then they’d be doing it here, too.

“How’s she doing?” Bundy asked as he stepped up beside Rev.

“She’s in her element. Look at her.”

“No missing the girls?”

Rev wasn’t sure Bundy ever forgave them for withholding the fact that Tomiko was pregnant until after they left Bare Rock. But he did make an effort to ask about the girls and come see them.

“Sure, she does. But you know her. Always got to prove herself.”

“That she does.”

“Any sign of our friend?” Bundy asked.

As Rev had expected after his confrontation with Wolf, Bundy had already been aware of the statistical improbability of so many pieces of vital equipment going down in the manner that they were. They’d been able to repair the equipment so far, but if this kept going, they’d run out of replacement modules and parts.

“Nothing so far. Maybe they know we’re on to them.”

“I wish that were true. But I keep waiting for something big to happen, something we can’t recover from.”

Bundy suddenly jerked back and swatted at his face shield.

“You know, sir. As a SNCO, I feel it’s my duty to inform you that you don’t have to smack at these creatures like a mosquito back on Safe Harbor. Your face shield is rated P23, and I don’t think these things can penetrate that.”

“Very funny, Sergeant Major. Ha-fucking-ha.”

“Jus’ saying.”

“Never liked bugs much,” Bundy said.

“Oh, you don’t have to explain your idiosyncrasies to me, sir. All officers are a little touched in the head.”

“And all SNCOs are assholes.”

“You’ve got that right,” Rev said with a laugh.

The two friends watched the barrier team as they hit the last stanchion in comradely silence until Rev said, “It’s strange that this is the first planet we’ve checked that has life.”

“Not really, Rev. That was the plan. Let us establish the SOP on barren planets, then work our way up.”

“Is that why we haven’t hit any sentient life? No aliens?”

“As far as I know, we don’t have any sign of sentient life out here on the outskirts of the galaxy. Most of that is toward the core. At least according to the Clickers.”

“I don’t trust them farther than I can throw them.”

“The lemmings, too. That’s why they wanted to come with us.”

“I don’t know. It just seems weird that everything is farther in. Why wouldn’t there be intelligent life out here?” Rev asked, not willing to give up the question.

“Well, maybe there is. But the stars are much farther apart out here, so it just might take longer to find any galactic neighbors in this subdivision.

Tomiko was on the last pylon, and she straightened and spotted the two. She said something to Lance Corporal Keenan, then headed over to them. Every one of her footsteps made an indentation on the carpet-like growth on the ground. They slowly filled with water—Rev wasn’t sure if it seeped up from the ground or oozed out of the growth. All of their footprints from the time they landed were still visible, looking like a landscape of ponds dotting a tundra.

“The Lamix’s up,” she told Bundy.

“Are you ready for the wash?”

“I think so.”

“Then do it.”

“All hands, prepare for biological wash in fifteen.”

Rev spread his legs and raised his arms from his side. All around him, the other Marines were doing the same.

“Five . . . four . . . three . . . two . . . one . . . activating wash.”

Nozzles on all of the pylons opened up, and antibiologicals sprayed in the air. The swarms immediately collapsed onto the ground, where the plant-like life started to disintegrate as well.

“Remember to rotate your bodies,” Tomiko reminded everyone.

Rev had been watching the wavelike pattern of falling native life and had forgotten to do that. He quickly turned in a circle, letting the wash cover him.

Under his feet, both the flying life and ground cover melted into a biological sludge that pooled on the ground.

“Bug soup,” Rev said, lifting one foot, then the other while watching the sludge drip off of them.

“Start scanning!” Tomiko told her team.

The Marines pulled out their handhelds and started sweeping the area, guided by the barrier AI to ensure every square centimeter was covered. Finally, the AI gave the OK. They’d successfully killed every living non-Marine entity within the barrier, breaking them down to their component molecules.

“That’s it. Start getting rid of this stuff.”

Just as the water remained in the footsteps, the rendered liquid was showing no sign of sinking into the ground, so Marines started the barrier’s evacuation system. Small streams of the liquid started to be pumped out through the barrier.

“You going to wait until it’s somewhat dry inside?” Rev asked Bundy.

“Nah. I’m sure our civilian friends are about to pop a nut waiting to start their thing. I’ll give them the OK to come join the party.”

* * *

Rev just stood at the barrier, letting the breeze blow on him. After eleven months, he’d forgotten what it felt like. To be honest, he’d been bored for the last six days as the civilians did their thing, and he missed the girls. The original plan was for a quick three-day survey, but the biological team had been so excited to have life at the destination that they’d pushed for an extension.

Bored or not, he wanted to delay taking down the barrier. He wasn’t sure when would be the next time he could stand like this, helmet off, just breathing the air and feeling the sun on his face and breeze through his hair.

It had been pure luxury when Major White Eagle had authorized them to molt from their PALs—if the civilians hadn’t suffered outside their hazard suits while inside the barrier, then it was probably safe for Marines as well.

They’d donned their PALs again once the civilians left for the ship, but for a few last moments, he could stand there, his helmet in the crook of his arm, and feel human just a little longer.

“Do you think there was anything worthwhile on the planet?” he asked Punch.

<Everything is worthwhile. If you mean, is there anything on the planet that has commercial or otherwise concrete beneficial value, that remains to be seen. And I am not connected to the civilian’s intranetwork to know what they’d discovered or suspected.>

“So, we’ve been gone for eleven months, and you don’t know if we’ve found anything to help humanity? Not one small thing?”

<I don’t know. But as you realize, the mission was devised as a way to get rid of humanity’s hyper-augments first and foremost. The second mission is to act as an early warning system against possible inimical races that can potentially threaten humanity. Finding value in what is out here is a tertiary objective.>

“Well, no matter if this planet has a benefit or not, I’m damn glad we came. Just to stand here like this, with the breeze . . .”

<What is it like?> Punch asked.

“What? What do you mean?”

That doesn’t sound like Punch. “What is it like?”

<You are enjoying the air as it blows past your head. What is that like?>

“I don’t understand the question. Or I don’t understand how to put it into words. But you’re connected to my nervous system, so you can feel what I feel, right?”

<I can detect when you feel something and what it is. I know you are feeling the air, but I don’t experience what you are feeling. So, I am asking you to describe what you are feeling now.>

Rev scrunched up his eyebrows. He didn’t quite get Punch’s point.

“But you do know when I feel something, right? Like the breeze here, or if I put my hand on a hot stove.”

<I know that you feel something. But I don’t know what that something is. When you want to check your power, you look at the readouts, correct?>

“Well, sure. That or ask you.”

<So, what does thirty-eight percent feel like? Does it feel any different to you than a hundred percent? Than zero percent?>

“I don’t feel the power . . . oh, I see what you mean.”

Rev stopped for a moment and tried to put what a breeze felt like into words. Only, he couldn’t.

“It’s like, uh, cool pressure? No, that doesn’t do it. Punch, I’m not sure I can express it unless you have references. But from what you’re saying, you don’t even have the references.”

<Some day, I think I would very much like to feel the breeze.>

“I don’t know if that’s possible, Punch. But sure, if we can figure it out.”

“All hands,” Tomiko passed on the net. “The barrier will power down in fifteen minutes. Anyone still on the planet will have to go through decontamination if you’re still here, so if you don’t want to go through that, get on the damn shuttle.”

Rev scanned the encampment. A few final pallets were being loaded, and the remaining Kanters were swarming around the loaders and into the cargo bay. Four Genesians, who were coming to the Galaxy Explorer for meetings before the task force departed the system, were waiting patiently by the far shuttle, which would be the last to leave. (But they always seemed to be calm and patient. For all Rev knew, they were antsy as heck right now.) Six hours ago, there had been over two hundred people there and even more Kanters. Now, the party was drawing to a close.

Outside the barrier, the bugs were swarming, particularly thick on the upwind side. It was as if they were just waiting for the humans and Kanters to leave so they could reclaim their land.

The breeze was still blowing through the barrier, but it didn’t feel quite as pleasant as it had a few minutes ago. He even felt a little guilty that he’d been enjoying something that his battle buddy could not but evidently wanted to.

With a sigh, Rev put on his helmet and locked the breeze out before he headed over to see if Tomiko needed any help.

16

“So, what’s this I hear about you and Keesha Talent?” Kelly asked Daryll.

“Nothing to say,” the tech said as he made the last few connections.

“That’s not what I hear,” Kelly said before nudging Tomiko with her elbow. “A little bird said that the two of you were in F-208 last night.”

F-208 was an unused storage locker at the bow of the ship that rumor had it was becoming a lovers’ trysting spot.

“Little birds need to get their little necks wrung,” Daryll said.

“Daryll and Keesha, kissing in a tree . . .” Kelly started and was immediately joined by Tomiko.

“What are you? Primary school students? Do you want to see this or not?” Daryll said as the two broke out into laughter.

“Give it up, Daryll,” Rev said. “You’ll never win.”

He grumbled something unintelligible under his breath as he bent over the IBHU, which caused Tomiko and Kelly to break out laughing again.

“Oh, we love you, Daryll,” Kelly said.

“Not as much as Keesha, though, from what I hear!” Tomiko added, which caused them to erupt again into laughter.

Daryll set his jaw and focused on his work, and a minute later, stepped back. “OK, this is the prototype. I want you to tell me if it affects the movement.”

The casual goofing around immediately disappeared as the three Marines crowded around Kelly’s IBHU.

“And this is non-lethal?” Rev asked, looking at the tube that ran alongside the beamer barrel.

“The gennies promise that it is. And from what I can tell, maybe so. Non-lethal or not, I sure wouldn’t want to get zapped by it.”

One of the four Genesians who’d come up to the Galaxy Explorer from Bug World had been a technician who’d met with Daryll to give him the plans for the weapon—because it was a weapon, even if not a mortal one.

The Perseus Union Marine Corps was not a police force. It did not face its own citizens. So, their array of non-lethal weapons was almost zero, and the few weapons they did have were old tech. The need for one had slipped through the cracks. It wasn’t until Dr. Njuguna and her crew gamed out several situations that they realized there might be a need to deter an aggressive life-form without killing it.

The Genesians told the Marines about a solution that they’d developed once they’d known the Corolla War was lost. They’d needed to defend themselves as they tried to flee and disappear from the collective human memory, but they didn’t want to create a cycle of revenge with angry people trying to track them down.

The technician had spent several hours with Daryll, adjusting the specifications so that it would work with an IBHU. He’d stayed long enough to start printing one up before he had to join the other three as they returned to their liner. And now, two hours after they’d entered bubble space, Daryll had the first prototype. Hopefully, with input from the three of them combined with his readings, he could make whatever adjustments might be necessary to create a field model.

Rev liked being the badass in combat, and he believed in hitting the enemy with something so strong that they couldn’t hit back, but with their new mission, he had to admit that having a non-lethal capability could potentially be beneficial.

“So, do I try her on?” Kelly asked.

“That’s what we need.”

Kelly took off her prosthetic arm, and with Rev’s help, attached Hammer, her IBHU. She slowly put Hammer through his range of motion.

“How does it feel?” Daryll said, hovering over her like a mother hen with her chicks.

“A little off. No, not off. Different, I’d say.”

“Do you feel in control?”

She stuck out her lower jaw and closed her eyes as she continued to manipulate the IBHU.

“I think so. It’s just different.”

“I expected that. The servos on her were designed under pretty exact specs, and they took the weight distribution into account. We’ve just changed the center of balance and added weight, so it’ll take time for both you and your AI to adjust to the changes.”

“Diana? My battle buddy?”

“No, not him. I mean Hammer’s AI.”

Rev had thought he meant Kelly’s battle buddy as well, and that had surprised him. But he’d forgotten that there was a limited AI inside Pashu that improved motion and targeting over time as it learned how Rev himself used the weapon. He never directly interacted with it, so it was easy to forget.

“What about your interface? Any glitches?” Daryll asked.

“No. I don’t notice anything. And Diana says all the connections are good.” She lowered her IBHU. Then raised it as if engaging a target several times.

“I think I could get used to it.”

Daryll studied his readouts while Kelly kept putting Hammer through his paces. He set up a snapping-in target to synch Kelly’s internal point-and-shoot targeting system with where the weapon was actually aiming.

Finally, he looked up and said, “I have enough data points here. I don’t think there have to be any major adjustments, but there are several things that I can do to improve it.”

“That’s all for the motion and targeting, right?” Rev asked.

“Well, yeah,” Daryll answered.

“But what about the weapon itself? I mean, all of that’s important, but is that thing gonna knock down whatever we shoot it at?”

Daryll shrugged and said, “The gennies say it will knock out a person for a little more than an hour, give or take. I don’t know about aliens, but I’d have to say it would do a number on all of them that we know of. Armor, though, would throw it off, I guess.”

“But we don’t know for sure, do we? We’re going to field this without knowing if it really does go bang and what happens to the target. Don’t you think Bundy needs to know that if he’s gonna be making the call on fielding it?”

“Well, yeah. But the only way to know would be to shoot someone.”

Rev didn’t quite know where it came from, but he said, “Then let’s do it. Shoot me, Kel.”

“Rev! What the fuck?” Tomiko said, grabbing Rev by the shoulder and spinning him to face her.

“Daryll said it. We need to test this before we actually modify our IBHUs.

<I don’t think this is a good idea.>

Rev ignored him.

“But to have Kel shoot you? That’s insane!”

Rev pulled away from her grasp and faced Daryll. “Are there any permanent effects?”

Daryll looked unsure of himself, but he said, “According to the gennies, no. You’re out hard for an hour or so, then you wake up. No lasting effects.”

“Does it damage anything?”

“Noooo . . .” he said, halfway between a statement and a question.

“Rev, no!” Tomiko said, stomping her foot for emphasis. “You won’t do it!”

He wasn’t really sure he wanted to do this. No, he was sure he didn’t want to do this. It had been more of a consideration than anything else. The weapon should be tested, and because it wasn’t fatal, it made a degree of sense. He wasn’t quite sure why he said “shoot me,” and he’d been about to back out, but Tomiko’s adamant order hit him wrong.

That sealed the deal. He had to go through with it.

“I’m doing it. It has to be done, and I’m not gonna tell anyone else to take the shot.”

“For damn good reason no one else should do it. And not you, either.”

<Ask Mr. Begay what the weapon might do to me.>

Rev was going to ignore Punch, but either because he knew he should find out or possibly because it would give him an out, he asked, “What about Punch. Will this affect him?”

Daryll obviously hadn’t thought about that. He screwed up his face for a moment, then said, “I don’t think there would be lasting damage. There shouldn’t be, based on what Aether told me.”

Rev looked to Tomiko and said, “See, no harm, no foul.”

<HE . . . SAID . . . “SHOULDN’T” . . . NOT . . . WOULDN’T!>

“I swear, if you do this . . .” Tomiko said.

Rev stepped away from her, backed up five paces, and told Kelly, “Shoot me.”

“Kel!” Tomiko said.

<This is not good.>

“Shut up, Punch!”

Kelly looked from Rev to Tomiko and back. Rev thought the perverse side of her wanted to pull the trigger. But she was torn between that and Tomiko.

“Rev, there has to be another way,” Daryll said. “I can rig up a target that can analyze the beam.”

Rev shut Daryll out. He tried to stare down his wife, but she was giving as good as she got.

With his eyes still locked on her, he again ordered, “Kel, fire the damn thing.”

He knew he was being unreasonable, but something in him wouldn’t back down. Maybe it was because he felt that he was being supplanted by the girls, or that instead of being equals, Tomiko was making more and more of the decisions between them.

I’m the sergeant major, Miko, not you!

He was in too deep now, and he couldn’t back down. He had to stand his ground.

“You are the most stubborn man in existence,” Tomiko snarled. “If you do this—”

“Kel, this isn’t personal, but unless you follow my orders, you’ll lose your team to someone who’ll do what they’re told.”

Low blow, Rev.

But it had the desired effect. Kelly’s eyes widened, and then in a quick move, she raised her IBHU and fired.

* * *

Oh, by the Mother.

Rev felt like he’d been taken apart and only partially reassembled. He groaned and, only by a supreme effort, forced his eyes open. Tomiko was standing over him, eyes furrowed in concern.

Miko!

The concerned look faded, to be replaced by anger. “So, you’re alive?”

“I duh-know,” Rev mumbled, which wasn’t far from the truth.

He didn’t know what had happened after he was shot. He didn’t think he’d been overcome by pain, but it was as if his memory had been blocked from something so horrible that he couldn’t handle it. All he knew was that it was bad. Very bad.

Fire was flashing from Tomiko’s eyes. “Reverent Pelletier, you’re an arrogant, stubborn fool.”

Rev tried to open his mouth to say something, but nothing seemed to work right.

“Always trying to be the alpha dog, always trying to prove that you’re the toughest Marine in the Corps. But you’re a father now. A husband. You’re the fucking senior enlisted Marine in this shitshow. Your job is to take care of us, not try to prove you’ve got the biggest fucking balls around!”

Rev didn’t even try to respond. He was too weak, and her blast of pure anger blew through him like the storms of Jupiter.

She stood over him for another moment before saying, “You just have to be the hero with no consideration for what getting killed will do to the stupid fools who love you.”

With that, she spun away and stormed out of the IBHU armory. Rev tried to raise his head to watch her but let it back down with a groan.

“I’m sorry, Rev. But you said I had to, or you’d take my team from me.”

There was sorrow in Kelly’s voice but with a little anger of her own thrown in.

“S’OK,” Rev said.

“I . . . I’d better go after her. She didn’t mean it, you know.”

Yes, she did.

And he knew there was truth in what she’d said. He’d let his ego get in the way. Tomiko had slid into the role of the family head, and for all that he loved his girls and his new life, maybe he resented not being the top dog. Ever since the beginning, when they were privates, seniority had been assigned alphabetically, and Rev had been on top. And as Rev had gotten promoted earlier, he’d kept that seniority. It had become the norm.

It was still that way on the military side, but not with the family, where he felt like he was now number four in the pecking order.

Do I really resent that? How shallow am I?

So, when she’d said no, he’d reacted like a petulant child.

You’re gonna have to work hard to fix this, Reverent.

Suddenly, he remembered.

“Punch, are you alright?”

There was no answer.

“Punch!” he asked again, panic rushing through him.

What have I done?

“Punch, answer me.”

<I am functional. No thanks to you. I’m still trying to dampen out the resonances.>

“Oh, thank the Mother.”

<Your impetuous actions could have caused significant damage. But if you will excuse me, I need to fix the problem.>

In all the years since Punch had been inserted into Rev’s head, his battle buddy had never dismissed him. But that’s what just happened.

He turned his head so he could see Daryll, who was sitting on his work stool, his face impassive as he stared at Rev.

“So, are you satisfied that the weapon works?” he said with only a touch of sarcasm.

Great. I’ve got Miko, Kel, Punch, and now Daryll’s pissed at me.

Rev groaned. “Yeah. It works.”

“Told you,” Daryll said in a voice quiet enough that he probably thought Rev couldn’t hear. Then he raised it and said, “I think you might be in the doghouse. If you want, you can crash here. Do you want me to get some cushions for you?”

“No. I’m fine just like this,” he said as he closed his eyes and tried to will his body back to a semblance of normalcy.

17

Rev stayed in the doghouse/armory for just a few hours before Tomiko retrieved him. She was still mad, and she was giving him the silent treatment, but she said he needed to recover, and sleeping on the hard steel deck of the ship wasn’t going to make that easier.

He had a suspicion that Daryll had called her. How else would she know he was lying out on the deck? Either way, he was glad to be in his rack, and when he woke up in the morning, he almost felt human.

The two of them walked around on eggshells, both on tenterhooks as they waited for another blowup, but gradually, they eased back into their normal rhythm. The work of caring for two infants, even with help from Kat, Strap, Kelly, Dr. Rima, and Dr. Teo, had a lot to do with that. The workload and drain on their time meant there wasn’t much time for anything else to crop up.

Rev tried to do more with the girls, and Tomiko started asking him for more input, which Rev noted. He hadn’t told anyone he’d been feeling a little passed over and ignored, so this shift surprised but pleased him.

Punch had told him that most texts on relationships recommended talking about issues, but Rev had avoided confronting it face-to-face, and it seemed to work out for them. Maybe it would blow up in the future, but for the moment, things were OK.

They had two more landings, both of which went by without incident. The saboteur—and Rev was sure there was one—might have hit again. One of the food fabricators went down, but not through corruption. The mixing spindle broke, which was an almost unheard-of situation. The spindles were one of the most robust parts of a fabricator.

A new part was printed within two days, and the fabricator was brought back online, so it hadn’t had much of an effect. But it initiated a command action group, made up of Rev, Bundy, Wolf, and Commander Nyad, the ship’s XO. Rev still didn’t know if he trusted Wolf. What better way to escape suspicion than being on the group tasked with ferreting out the saboteur? But it was what it was, and Rev had to deal with it.

The other major issue was that the Loup-Garou was reaching the end of its attachment to the task force. The Hégémonie ship’s assignment was for eighteen months, and that was approaching quicker than they realized. Dr. Njuguna didn’t know if the ship would be replaced. And if she weren’t, then the Carabinieri, who were on board, would have to be cross-decked to one of the other platforms.

All of these, along with the mundane minutiae of running the task force, could be mind-numbing at times, and Rev often wished he was back as a sergeant, when all he had to do was take care of his immediate Marines and fight the enemy.

So, it was with great pleasure that the next mission was looming on the horizon. The task force already knew that the NP-33945’s star was Sol-like, but there were lots of such stars in the galaxy. After the initial drones were sent out, however, the scans revealed that the third planet was far more interesting. It had life. Real life. Advanced life. But more than that, it was a Goldilocks planet, even closer to Earth-normal in temperature, gravity, and atmosphere than Safe Harbor.

There was an undercurrent of excitement among both the civilians and military. Being so close to Mother Earth specs meant they could live without protection, which was a huge advantage. That wasn’t the only reason. Civilians were excited because they could study the large lifeforms that inhabited the planet. Military because the life-forms were, in fact, large, and their size alone could pose a threat.

No one expected the life-forms to attack them. They had the barrier, after all. But an elephant on the Mother might not intend to step on the mouse, yet the mouse was still dead.

Both scientists and military could finally do what they were trained to do.

And Dr, Njuguna, knowing full well the mood of the task force, had not only already extended the mission to three weeks, but she’d authorized expeditions outside of the landing area if the situation allowed it.

Expeditions meant there’d be military escorts needed. Rev was already trying to pull his bolt to be on a couple of them. The idea of getting off the ship and beyond a Lamix barrier was extremely tantalizing.

All in all, there was an uptick in the morale of the task force. Things were getting better.

* * *

Rev was with the second landing craft that landed on the planet. The Marines ran down the rear ramp, and Tomiko immediately took charge. Major White Eagle had pulled rank and had been on the first craft, and his forty Marines had formed a tight perimeter around the LZ, giving Rev flashbacks to so many missions against the Centaurs, MDS, and Naxli.

This time, there was no real enemy. But what there was were forty-plus large animals moving slowly half a klick away. Looking like a nightmare version of an Earth cape buffalo with impossibly large, sharp horns, the largest among them were probably two and a half meters at the shoulder and conservatively massing 1500 kilograms. They were plenty big enough to mess up even a Marine in a PAL.

The herd(?) had delayed the landing by crossing the designated LZ. The landing craft in the first wave had been stacked up like shuttles coming into Anastasia’s spaceport. But finally, they ambled past, and the first craft was cleared to land.

There were four IBHUs in the initial wave, all armed with the sleeper, which was the not-so-innovative name they’d given to the non-lethal projector Daryll and the Genesian tech had created. If the creatures took issue with the human invasion, Tsao, Randigold, Homer, and Cavallo would try to dissuade them with it. If that didn’t work, they were authorized to use deadly force, and the rest of the Marines would join them.

Hopefully, though, it would never come to that, and from the looks of things, it didn’t seem likely. The big beasts kept going, even if some of them kept craning their necks to look back at the LZ. They didn’t act aggressively, but they’d obviously noticed the intrusion.

Tomiko and Kelly had their team well in hand. They passed through White Eagle’s lines and set up the sonic repellers. This was the first time they’d been used. Non-lethal, they blasted sound through a wide range of frequencies, all controlled by AIs that could observe the reaction of the intended targets and maximize the frequencies that produced the highest degree of discomfort.

The Marines’ PALs were linked to them, and as the repellers ran through the frequencies, the PALs would cancel the waves so that the Marines could still function.

They were an MDS piece of gear, and they were quite effective against human crowds. Rev didn’t know if they would work against alien life-forms, but it wouldn’t hurt to try. All they had to do was give Tomiko’s team enough time to get up the Lamix barrier.

Rev made sure Tomiko’s team was in the swing of things—not that he had any doubts, but he felt that he should be doing something. Then he took a moment to look around.

His attention had been on the creatures, but now he took in more of the area. Rev had been on planets with native life before. Syron III, for example, had dense, somewhat Earthlike forests in form. But with an orange dwarf as the system’s sun, the vegetation had been in the dark greens and blues and tending toward black.

This system’s star was extremely similar to Sol, so as he swept his gaze across the horizon, he was greeted with a beautiful verdant green. Patches of exposed yellow rock made a bright counterpoint.

Dr. Njuguna’s team had already determined that the vegetation used photosynthesis, and her botanists were raring to go. Not that the vegetation looked like Earth plants. Under Rev’s feet, the dirt was speckled with green as if algae had taken hold. Beyond where Tomiko’s team was beginning to set up the barrier, the groundcover was thicker, like a green mold.

The larger plants also had a fungal appearance, like out-of-control mushrooms. Some were centimeters tall—others soared to twenty or thirty meters. As Rev watched, two of the big animals pushed against a light-green native tree, knocking it to the ground. Seven of the beasts gathered around and began eating the edges of the fronds.

“I don’t think the civvies are gonna want to leave this place,” Rev subvocalized.

<The CoH may not want us to until the commercial potential of this planet is unlocked.>

“We don’t know what is here yet. Our scanners are not optimized for that.”

<It’s a Goldilocks planet. Those are too few and far between.>

“But we’re halfway to the edge of the galaxy, Punch. Those are long lines of communication.”

Theoretically, with bubble space, anywhere in the galaxy was within reach. However, in reality, humanity’s ability to conquer bubble space was not as refined as it needed to be. There was a practical limit to the real-space distance traveled before slight deviances compounded to where ships could disappear or simply come apart while dropping out of bubble space.

The limitation wasn’t just humanity’s, which was why none of the known races had explored this section of the galaxy. The stars weren’t dense enough to make the effort and risk worth it when there were much more potentially fertile grounds for exploration—and conquest.

“Just look at how long it took us to get this far.”

<Not nearly as long as it took Century Ships.>

Rev snorted. “Touché, my friend. Touché.”

“All hands, incoming shuttle. Steer clear of the landing pad,” came over the open net.

Rev turned around. The boxy commercial shuttle from the Star Gala was on its approach. This would be the first time that a major Genesian contingent would land on their target planet. Ditto with the Kanters, MDS, and Hégémonie. It wasn’t quite a land rush, but it sure had a bit of that feel. Either everyone wanted a piece of the planet, or all of the crews just wanted to get out of their ships and feel the sun on their faces.

Probably a combination of the two.

“Miko, what’s the status of the Lamix?” he asked on the P2P.

“Rev, it’s only been twenty minutes. Give me a break!”

“I didn’t mean it like that, Miko. I’m just trying to get a timeline. The gennies are about to land, and I don’t want them deciding to just wander off.”

The Genesians were part of the task force, and they’d freely shared their tech. But they didn’t seem to give much weight to the concept of chain of command, and he didn’t want anyone deciding to leave the LZ until after the barriers were up, the camp built, and the civilians had a chance to test the planet for any nasty surprises.

“OK,” Tomiko said. “Another forty minutes, and we should be ready. Making the camp this big is just taking more time than usual.”

“We’ve got to have it big. Everybody and their mother wants to be here.”

“I’m not arguing with that. I’m just saying it’s going to take longer. And unless you sign off and let me do my work, that timeline could stretch out even more.”

“Understood,” Rev passed before cutting the connection.

The shuttle was flaring as it approached the LZ.

He had an image of the Genesians trying to take samples of the big native life and starting some sort of stampede before they had the barrier up.

“I’d better go head them off,” he told Punch.

Hopefully, they’d heed him, at least until Tomiko and her team were done.

* * *

“Pass the word. We’re free to molt,” Bundy said over the command net. “I want twelve Marines in full combat gear around the clock, four-hour shifts. Other than that, we’re naked.”

“What about masks?” Rev asked.

“Dr. Rima says they aren’t necessary while in the compound. The tests came back ‘cleaner than inside the ship,’ she said. And whatever was here won’t affect us. Divergent biologies and such, you know.”

“Good enough for me,” Rev said.

He was a little surprised by the decision, but he wasn’t going to complain. He knew the misters just inside the barriers were supposed to eliminate all native pathogens, but he’d expected the decision would be that everyone would have to keep on masks.

He turned to Tiwari and Hvarser, who’d been following him as he made his rounds. “Back to the barn.”

“Did we get word?” Hvarser asked, her voice full of hope.

“The full monty. No PALs, no masks.”

“Praise the Mother!”

“No masks, na?” Tiwari asked, not sounding too sure about that.

“Nada. Nothing. Dr. Rima cleared it. Now let’s get going before the place is crushed.”

The three broke into a jog. Rev could almost see the word as it spread, and not just among the military personnel. Civilians and military alike started moving to their respective shelters. Only the Genesians and the Kanters weren’t reacting.

The three reached the “barn,” the shelter that had been erected as an armory. Sergeant Royal, one of the Wahoo Marines’ armorers, looked up at their entrance.

“Can I help you, Sergeant Major?”

“We’re ditching the PALs. Where do you want them?”

“Oh, shit. I’m going to need more help. We don’t have designated spaces yet.”

Rev sighed. All he wanted to do was to get out of his PAL and feel the sun on his face. But he knew that wasn’t going to happen for a while. A long while.

“We’ll help,” he told the sergeant. With almost three hundred anxious Marines and other personnel wanting to get rid of their combat suits, it was going to be a madhouse if the armory wasn’t ready, and they needed someone senior to help manage it. Like a sergeant major.

“You two, get out of your gear and stage them over there,” he said, pointing to the far corner of the armory, past the ammunition cases stacked up alongside the wall. “You’ve been drafted.”

He told Sergeant Royal, “Don’t let anyone in until I say so. Unless it’s Gunny Pelletier.”

Rev followed his two shadows to the far corner and molted. He might not be outside, but it felt good to be able to scratch his head and breathe in something other than canned air.

“Punch, help me with a plan here. I need this organized.”

<That should have been done already by the armory staff. Where’s Staff Sergeant Li?>

“Not here, and we’ve got Marines already showing up.”

Over at the entrance, several PAL-clad Marines were already trying to get past the sergeant.

Punch popped a diagram into his visual cortex. It looked good enough for government work. Rev quickly gave Tiwari and Hvarser their marching orders and got them started, then jogged over to rescue Royal.

“Stand down, Harrison!” he told the corporal who was in Royal’s face.

“We were told to get over here and molt, Sergeant Major, then get back ASAP so the rest could come.”

“And you will. But we’re not quite ready yet, so hold on.” He started to head back to help Tiwari and Hvarser, but then said. “You can take off your helmets now, though. And Royal, get Staff Sergeant Li here, and I mean ten minutes ago.”

It took almost twenty-five minutes to get what should have been done two days ago organized. Tomiko came to help, and the missing Li showed up. The Marines were given two areas, by far the largest—one for the Wahoo Marines and one for the Galaxy Explorer Marines. Each of the contributing militaries got its own area. Punch calculated how large each sector had to be for the number of respective combat suits, and Rev paced them off to make sure.

Finally, he gave the word, and the milling Marines and soldiers were let in, twenty at a time. Rev could have left things to Tomiko. As the company gunny, this fell under her purview. But he stayed to help out, lending his authority as needed.

It took almost two hours before the last few Marines—which included Bundy and White Eagle—were able to molt.

Rev wiped the sweat from his brow. As much as he was glad to get out of his PAL, the climate control function was a nice feature. He took a moment to survey the armory. The neat lines of combat suits, all spaced so that anyone could quickly find and access theirs, reminded Rev of images of Emperor Qin Shi Huang’s terracotta Army.

“Well, that’s done,” he said. “Are you ready to go feel Forty-five’s breeze, Miko?”

“You go. Li and I are going to have a little talk on why this was such a clusterfuck.”

I don’t envy him.

“Then we’re going to go over each and every PAL to make sure it’s logged and cataloged. It might take a while.”

“You got it. What about you two?” he asked his two minions. “You ready to feel this garden of the gods?”

“Lead the way, oh master,” Tiwari said.

“Then let us go forth and conquer.”

The three stepped past an exhausted-looking Royal and out through the door. It was a hot day, and the sun beat down on them, but a slight breeze cooled the sweat on his brow. What hit him first was the smell. It was life, pure and simple. And it was welcome after the sterile ship and PAL.

It took a moment for his eyes to adjust, but then the green was almost too intense. At least two hundred of the buffalo—the name had almost been too easy and had been quickly adopted, much to the annoyance of the biologists—were in the valley below, along with half a dozen other species. Thousands of the spotted “pronghorn” quadrupeds, standing a meter high at the shoulders, milled about, all changing directions suddenly like schools of herring when the moment came, were the most numerous. The smaller, rounder “billyboys”—nicknamed by the MDS contingent after a children’s cartoon character, ambled by in groups of a dozen or so. If he squinted, he could imagine being one of the few humans allowed on the Mother, standing at the base of Kilimanjaro and watching the vast herds of animals migrate by.

In the three days they’d been on the planet, the numbers of animals had tripled, at least. It was almost as if they were attracted to the human enclave. A few had wandered close to the compound, but the barrier had done its job and turned them away.

Drones had been covering as much territory as possible, but tomorrow, the first expedition was leaving the compound. The real work was about to begin, and Rev was ready.

“This place is really something special, Punch. It’s almost worth getting exiled to be part of this.”

“Should we get back to your rounds?” Tiwari asked.

Rev just stood silent for a moment, then shook his head. “The rounds will wait. Let’s just drink this in for a moment. This really is a garden of the gods.”

18

Rev didn’t mind getting back into his PAL. Not for this.

Five human and one Kanter expedition had left the compound and returned, all without incident. None had strayed far, and none had spent more than a few hours outside the barrier. But it was a start.

The civilian side of the task force was almost beside itself with excitement. Several longer expeditions were being planned, including using a shuttle to transport a research team to the polar ice cap. That was still in the planning phases. Meanwhile, though, the local patrols were ongoing—they weren’t really patrols, but to Rev’s military mind, that’s what they were, and along with most of the other Marines, that’s how they referred to them.

“Five minutes!” Hinat Noor shouted out.

Hinat was sort of a company gunny for the civilians. She wasn’t one of the scientists, but she got things done, and she was the leader of this expedition. Rev was just along for the ride, and he had to restrain himself from giving orders. Every human trip outside the barrier included an IBHU and a karnan among the military escort, and White Eagle finally let Rev slot himself in.

It would have been hard for him to say no. He’d gone on the last patrol himself.

“Watch out for the yellow ground cover,” Randigold said. “It’s slick.”

“I know, Eth. You’ve told me that two times already.”

“I’m just concerned about your balance. I’ve heard it degrades with age. I don’t want you falling down in front of the civvies, you know.”

“Just go take your position, Sergeant,” Rev said.

“Aye-aye, Sergeant Major!” she said with a laugh and moved to the point position.

<I’ve always liked Sergeant Randigold.>

“Yeah, you would.”

Rev slipped in behind the civilians. He was Tail End Charlie. With Randigold on point and the rest of the Wahoo Marines on either side, the civilians would be surrounded by firepower. And anytime they stopped to do their science stuff, the Marines would form a defensive perimeter.

So far, nothing had threatened anyone, and some of the civilians were beginning to balk at the requirement for an escort, but that was Bundy’s call. So far, he didn’t seem to be considering budging.

They also didn’t like being in environmental suits, but until Dr. Rima gave the OK to allow going outside the barrier without them, they were stuck with that, too.

Hinat gave the order to move out, and Randigold led to the exit. A Marine in a PAL or a civilian in an E-suit could walk through the barrier at any spot, but as a control measure, the “gate” was the only authorized exit and entry. All returning people were sprayed and irradiated upon entry, which seemed more than a little bit of overkill as the Kanters weren’t.

Their allies had gone out with only their hoods. The bulk of their bodies were naked to the environment, so irradiation was out, and they refused the spray. Not only that, but without the protection of a combat or E-suit, the gate had to be opened for them to get through the barrier.

But logic was never a strong suit when dealing with SOP. Both Bundy and Dr. Nkuguna were following the protocols, Kanters aside.

Rev felt a bump of excitement as he passed through the gate and out into the unprotected valley. He’d been in the open when they’d landed and before the barrier was up, but this was different from an emotional standpoint. They were leaving the trappings of humanity behind and forging ahead.

The compound was on a level piece of ground on the southern slopes of a line of hills. Below, the valley stretched out for eighteen kilometers in length from east to west and eight in width before a higher line of hills on the far side.

More buffalo had gathered, along with the other species. Every few hours, it seemed, a new large animal was identified—and that was by observers still in the compound and using drones and telescopes.

Rev twisted around and spotted their guardian angel. Drones weren’t only in use to study the planet. Each expedition had one dogging their steps and relaying the feed back to the CP.

With that confirmed, he took in the vista again.

“How many buffalo are out there now?” he asked Punch.

<Six hundred and nine are within your direct line of sight.>

“That’s a lot more than the forty when we landed. Do you think they’re attracted to us?”

<It could be. But it could just as well be part of a migration pattern that had started at the same time as we arrived. It will take far more study to be able to answer questions like that.>

“Well, someone else will get to do that. We’ll be off to the next objective.”

A message torp had already been sent back to Titan, and comms, while somewhat intermittent, were still up. Rev couldn’t imagine humanity ignoring this prime piece of galactic real estate. The stated mission of the task force was to identify potential threats, but humanity had always had an expansion/conquest gene in their DNA.

The expedition continued down the slope while crabbing to the left. Their destination was a pond two-point-three klicks from the compound. The biologists wanted to dredge the water to see what lived in it.

They passed their first “tree.” Close up, the fungal similarity faded somewhat. It still had the overall shape of a giant oyster mushroom, but the surface was covered in what looked like thousands of small, detached scales or leaves.

Rev looked back at the sun, then returned to the tree. From what he could see, the scales rotated like sunflowers to maximize their surface to the sunlight.

He was feeling pretty pleased with himself when his foot slipped, and the servos had to kick on to keep him upright. He regained his balance, but three of the civilians went down hard.

“What the—?”

He looked down at the patch of yellow at his feet. He quickly looked at Randigold, but she didn’t seem to have seen him. She’d warned him about the yellowish plants, and he’d been playing botanist instead of watching where he was going.

“You’re getting company, Rev,” Tomiko passed on the P2P.

He turned around. Back at the compound, Kanters were emerging from the gate. They knew that there was another human group out, but they hadn’t been told anything about the Kanters. But then again, their allies pretty much did what they wanted. Coordinating with them was rather hit or miss.

He opened up the patrol circuit. “We’ve got lemmings coming up our rear.”

Everyone turned around to look, then continued their march.

The Kanters approached quickly, a wave of bodies bounding over each other and occasionally turning somersaults as they descended the slope. As always, there was no uniformity in them. Every Kanter seemed to carry whatever it wanted. Even their weapons had a wide range. The only thing that was the same was their hoods, which looked like plastic food bags stuck over their heads. This was what constituted their environmental helmets.

Rev got a queasy feeling whenever he watched them. They looked like they were being suffocated, something he couldn’t get out of his head.

The first wave reached Rev. One Kanter whipped around his feet and climbed up his front until it could peer into his face shield.

“Pelletier Strong Bough,” it said before back-flipping off his chest and rushing off.

No one gave the order to halt, but all of the humans stopped as the Kanter tsunami flowed past them. Within twenty seconds, they were gone, speeding farther down the slope and into a denser group of trees.

“I think we’ve just been lemming-ized,” Randigold said over the P2P. “What do you think they’re doing?”

“Same thing we are. Studying the place.”

“Are they going to try to snatch it from us? You know, lemming-forming it before we can lay claim?”

That was actually a pretty good question. No one knew for sure why the Kanters were in the task force. They just sort of said they were coming, and no one important enough to say no evidently objected. Rev was rather fond of their diminutive allies, and he felt uplifted after being around them, suffocating hoods notwithstanding. He’d hate it if they became economic adversaries, both reaching for the same territory.

“Maybe they think the chipmunks are their long-lost galactic cousins,” he said. “Who knows?”

“Chipmunks” were one of the smaller animals on the planet. There were thousands around the compound, and there was a striking similarity in appearance between them and the Kanters.

The patrol started up again and made their way to their objective. Rev kept his head on a swivel—not because he expected an attack, although that’s why he was there, but to try and capture images of every animal and plant in his sight. He’d upload the images when he got back, and the AIs would compare all of his images with all the others taken to identify new species.

Given the variation they’d already seen, there was no possible way they’d be able to catalog all of Forty-five’s species, especially with their limited time and footprint. But the xenobiologists could determine a lot about a planet with only a single slice of the flora and fauna.

They passed close—close being two hundred meters—to a herd of buffalo. Rev had Pashu ready, but most of them ignored the humans. Only one, which was situated twenty meters away from the rest, kept its attention focused on them. Rev wondered if it was some sort of sentry. Other than taking several steps toward the patrol, it didn’t show any signs of aggression.

One animal—or was it a mobile plant?—caught everyone’s attention. Hinat called everyone to a halt as they turned their focus on it and captured holos. About a meter tall, it looked like a stick of wood with slowly waving tentacles sprouting from the top. The bottom had the same tentacles, but these provided locomotion, looking like nothing so much than an octopus’s tentacles while walking over the bottom of the ocean.

It moved slowly, though, and as it advanced, the smaller animals fled once they noticed it. This was the first sign that there might be carnivores on the planet. With so much biomass in the valley, it made sense that there would be, but they just hadn’t spotted any yet.

“That thing looks like it’s a predator. And if there’s one, there are probably more, and maybe some that move a little quicker. So, keep on the alert,” Rev passed on the Marine-only net.

But no lion-analog rushed out of the bushes to attack as they reached the pond. Rev emplaced the Marines around it while Hinat turned her people over to the researcher-in-charge.

The pond was in a small hollow and ringed with trees, so Rev’s visibility was limited. His attention should have been to the outboard, but after ten minutes, he’d seen about all he could in front of him. Behind him wasn’t much better, with the civilians pulling nets through the water and putting specimens in collection jars.

The excitement of getting out of the compound started to stale, and he resorted to asking Punch for music. After six long hours, he was more than relieved when Hinat told him they were ready to return.

The trip back was uneventful, and Rev was looking forward to getting out of his PAL and grabbing some hot chow. Still, he was glad he’d gotten out and seen a little more of the planet.

The task force would be gone soon, but Rev had a feeling that Forty-five might prove to be the crown jewel of what they would discover.

* * *

“More tourists,” Tomiko said, pointing behind Rev.

Rev turned around. Captain Paulliac was giving a group of a dozen sailors their brief. From the look of it, they were from the Akaei, but with their E-suits on, it was hard to tell, and all of the ships were rotating down sailors to give them a chance to get their feet on solid ground.

Captain Paulliac had jumped on the chance to take charge of the “tourists,” and as far as Rev was concerned, she and her Marines could have it.

He watched for a moment. The captain was gaining confidence—that was obvious. She was in full authority mode when she told the sailors what to expect as they left the compound. Rev made a mental note to catch up with First Sergeant Mann and get a feel of the situation with the Wahoo Marines.

“I wonder if we should bring down the girls?” Tomiko said, making it a question.

“The girls? Our girls?”

“No, all the other infants,” she said. “Of course, our girls. It might be a long time before they can ever set foot on a planet.”

“This is a working plan—” Rev started before he caught the look in her eyes. “You just want to see them, Miko.”

“Of course I do. Don’t you?”

With Kat and Strap on the planet, and with Dr. Teo doing her research work, care for the girls had been pretty much taken over by Dr. Rima. Rev trusted her, and she had lots of help, but still, he worried about them. Vid-conferencing with infants was not very satisfying.

“You know, Miko, I think we can get you back up to the ship on the next run.”

Her eyes lit up, then a scowl took over her face.

“I don’t think that will look too good.”

Tomiko was paranoid in thinking that the others would feel the two of them were getting any special treatment because of the girls.

“It’s no big deal, and I think the compound can survive without you for five or six hours.”

She didn’t seem convinced, but he knew her well enough to know she wanted to go.

“Look, I can have Bundy make it an order. Not to see the girls, but to get, oh, say combat rats.”

She raised a single eyebrow, which with Tomiko, could mean about a million different things.

“I guess that wouldn’t be too bad,” she said cautiously.

“Consider it done,” Rev said, taking it, and he hoped her guilt, out of her hands.

He could see her mood lift. And maybe in another couple of days, he could think of a reason for him to make the trip, too.

“So, when are you going out?” she asked, almost beaming at the thought of seeing their girls.

“Soon. In fact, I probably should be going,” Rev said, then downed the rest of his burger.

He let out a large burp, licked his fingers, and stood.

Tomiko usually made some comment when he burped, but this time she asked, “You’ll talk to Bundy?”

“As soon as I get back. Don’t worry.”

“OK. Give me a kiss.”

There were a good thirty people on the tables that had been set up outside the mess shelter, but none were watching him, so he leaned over and gave her a quick peck.

“Don’t get stomped on by a buffalo.”

Rev rolled his eyes. One of the MDS soldiers had resurrected an ancient song, “Two Buffalos,” by Rolf Harris, and it had become a sort of anthem, with people making up new verses to fit the current situation. Some were silly. Some were even ribald. Rev wasn’t even sure which verses were from the original and which were made up, but the common theme was buffalos stomping on the ground or chairs or whatever.

Rev never asked Punch what kind of buffalo were in the song, whether they were cape buffalo, water buffalo, or even the American bison, which he knew were called buffalo. But the image of the long-horned, fanged Forty-five buffalo going on a stomping spree wasn’t something he thought he wanted to see.

“I won’t, ma’am.”

He headed for the armory and his PAL. Staff Sergeant Dykstra and his squad were already donning their PALs. Major White Eagle thought it would be better if Rev went out with the Wahoo Marines, giving them their IBHU cover. Rev understood the logic, but he didn’t know if White Eagle had ulterior motives. All he knew was that he’d rather go out with his Marines.

And this time, he didn’t have another IBHU. Over-corporal Dunt was his second for the patrol. Rev had worked with the karnan before, and he was a good soldier, but he didn’t have an IBHU. If worse came to worst, though, his BIPAC should be more than able to drop any threat on the planet.

Rev held a quick meeting with Dykstra and Dunt, going over their movement. All of them had been outside the barrier before, so it shouldn’t be anything out of the ordinary. Rev, as the only IBHU, would lead on point, with Dunt bringing up the rear.

Nowhere in the Marine Corps would a sergeant major be on point. But they weren’t with the rest of the Corps, and he was an IBHU. Still, it would kill the purists if they knew. But they weren’t here, and they’d never find out, so who cared?

Just do whatever the mission calls for.

They headed for the gate, where they had to wait eighteen minutes for the civilian team to show up. Hinat was the leader again, the third time Rev had gone out with her. She apologized for being late and told him their objective. The drones had picked up an area where there were groups of trees that the animals seemed to avoid, at least according to the AI analysis of track patterns—or something like that. Rev just nodded and accepted the reasoning. His job was to get the civilians there, not understand why they were going.

The day was cloudy, and rain, no different than what fell on Safe Harbor, had started up again. The wind was brisk, with occasional gusts that shook the treetops. Inside a PAL, the outside weather didn’t matter much, but the gloomy day seemed to take a bit of the spring out of their steps.

With the wet ground, the Slip ‘N Slide yellow ground cover was slicker, but enough people had fallen on their butts by now that everyone was aware of it, and if they had to cross a patch, they took extra care with their steps. Rev led the group around one patch, then slowed down over a larger one.

It took them only forty-five minutes to reach their target, which consisted of a fairly open area with three patches of the subject trees, each with between thirty and fifty of them.

Dr. Killdeer, one of the botanists, selected the nearest copse, and Rev arrayed the Marines and their karnan around it.

At first glance, they didn’t look that much different from other, taller trees. But the color was a little more to the blue, and the branches were thicker. Rev couldn’t see through to the other side. And there were none of the flying animals flitting among the branches. There were quite a few of two smaller animals. One looked like a roly-poly tan tennis ball with four long legs and no discernable eyes. The other was more like a weasel with a head crest that kept getting flexed and retracted.

Rev thought the weasel thing might be preying on the tennis balls, but they seemed to be ignoring each other as they scurried over the branches.

After checking the last Marine’s position, Rev wandered a little closer, and he saw one of the civilians motion for Dr. Killdeer. He edged closer as well. In front of the civilian, and just within the edge of the trees, was a small pile of what looked to be bones of some kind, but not like any skeleton he’d ever seen. He thought it might be the remains of the weasel-thing, but it looked too big to be one of them.

“Any ideas?” he asked Punch.

<I can’t offer anything without getting a closer look.>

“No biggie. I’m sure it will be reported.”

Rev took his position and settled in to wait. “How about some bangle rock?”

A moment later, “Ticket to Nowhere” filled his head.

“We’ve got some buffalo heading our way,” Dunt, who was on the opposite side of the copse, passed.

“OK, thanks.”

It took another twelve minutes before the first of the big beasts appeared in the sixty-meter-wide open area between the two groves of trees. Instead of calmly plodding along, they were in single file, and they seemed antsy to Rev, swinging their heads from one side to the other.

“Yule and Belinsky, pull back, right up to the trees,” he told the two Marines who, if the buffalo kept advancing, would be the closest to them.

The rule was to give the beasts a hundred-meter cushion, but Rev couldn’t help it if they chose to get closer to the humans.

The buffalo slowly advanced. They sure looked wary, but whatever they were experiencing, it didn’t look like it was aimed at the humans. They were giving the other side the same degree of attention.

Still, Rev didn’t like it. “Hinat, get your people to the other side of the trees here, at least until the buffalo pass. That goes for all of you Marines, too. But keep oriented to them.”

Hinat knew not to argue. On matters of security, Rev’s authority here trumped everyone else’s.

“Why are they antsy?” Rev asked Punch.

<I don’t know. It could be something as simple as the weather, or they could perceive a threat.>

“What could threaten them, as big as they are?”

But the thought made Rev turn and stare into the trees. The buffalo seemed to be zeroed in on them. But while the branches were thick, he could see enough to know that there wasn’t some huge predator lurking inside.

Maybe it’s the wind.

He watched them lumber closer, and unbidden, the damn song forced its way into his brain with its lyrics of eight buffalo stomping on the ground until all the grass was gone.

Just great. Now I’m not gonna be able to get that out of my mind for the next two days.

He hummed the tune as more emerged from between the trees, and then, the lead buffalo changed direction slightly.

It was Punch who realized the significance.

<The lead one is keeping their track equidistant between the three thickets.>

It took a moment, but Rev realized his battle buddy was right. The buffalo were carefully keeping themselves as far away from the trees as possible, splitting the distance between the groves.

Once again, Rev peered into the trees beside him. What could be threatening the big beasts?

“Sergeant Major!” one of the Marines shouted.

He was pointing to the right, and when Rev looked, he could see the tourist sailors heading right at them.

“Shit.”

“Sailors approaching the buffalo, halt,” he passed on the open net.

The group didn’t stop, and several were pointing at the buffalo.

Rev didn’t like the way the animals were acting, and he didn’t want a bunch of sailors and their lone Marine tour guide making the situation any worse.

“Franks, go tell them to stop,” he ordered.

The lance corporal took off at a run.

Rev swung back to the buffalo. The final one had emerged into sight. It was a big one, with horns almost two meters long. Rev could swear it was trying to hurry the others through the area, frustrated with their hesitant pace.

Franks reached the tourists, and they finally stopped. They lined up, though, so they could take holos and pictures. Rev would rather have them retreat, but if they stayed where they were, it should be OK.

The lead buffalo came abreast of the last grove, and it picked up the pace as if anxious to leave the trees behind. The increased energy seemed to excite the sailors, and many of them launched their selfie cams, taking holos of them in the foreground and the buffalo in the background.

Several sailors started to edge closer, and Rev had to tell Franks to pull them back. But it was the proverbial herding of cats. As soon as he pulled one back, two others pushed forward. Rev almost started over, but they were still beyond the exclusionary cushion.

As the Tail End Charlie came abreast of him, Rev passed for the Marines who’d had to move to resume their positions, and he told Hinat that her folks could get back to work.

This was as close as he’d gotten to the buffalos. They were big, powerful creatures, and usually, they moved slowly, lumbering from one spot to another. Those at the end of the column hadn’t started picking up the pace yet, so they were still moving slowly. But as he watched the last one and the way it was twitching and shifting its four-eyed gaze, Rev got the feeling that it could explode into action in an instant.

I don’t think I’d like to be the one that pissed it off.

Franks had stopped the sailors, and the buffalo were moving off. Rev started to relax. The little bit of excitement was going to turn into the boredom of being a security guard while the civilians did their thing.

He gave one last glance at the sailors, and one of them redirected their cam from taking a selfie to getting a close-up of the buffalo. The small cam passed over their heads and zoomed in toward the column. Personal cams were essentially not that much different than the drones that the task force had been using to sweep the planet. The buffalo in the valley should be used to them by now. But with the buffalo so uncharacteristically antsy, Rev didn’t want to push it.

“Franks, let’s quit with the cams. Selfies are OK, but I don’t want the cams inside the cushion.”

“Got it, Sergeant Major.”

The lance corporal faced the group, but three more cams took off before he could corral the others.

Just great.

Rev watched the four cams approach the beasts. The task force had set the exclusionary distance for Class D drones, which were the smallest type, at fifteen meters. Personal cams were slotted into that class, which the sailors had been briefed. And the first two cams that reached the buffalo did pull up at about that distance.

The third, though, went past the lead buffalo, pulled a 180, then started to fly down for what looked like a strafing run from a historical WWII film recording.

“FRANKS!”

The lead buffalo saw it coming and was spooked. It dodged to the left while sweeping at the cam with its horns. The sudden movement startled the buffalo in the front half of the column, and they bolted to either side as the cam kept up its path.

In the rear, Tail End Charlie reacted, even quicker than Rev had anticipated. It started charging forward, tail raised high like a flag, while it bellowed a roar that Rev’s PAL had to dampen.

“Oh, shit!” Rev said as he started to run toward the sailors while keeping his attention laser-focused on the buffalo.

He felt more than saw several Marines start to join him, but he ordered them back to their position. Their mission was the civilian team, not the sailors.

The big buffalo knocked one of the others off its feet as it charged forward. The cam kept coming, and the buffalo opened its mouth to reveal an array of tyrannosaurus teeth to compliment the fangs that jutted upward outside of the mouth. With a lunge, the buffalo jumped more than a meter into the air, something amazing for an animal so big, and the jaws snapped shut around the cam.

It landed with a ground-shaking thud, then swung its head violently back and forth a few times while pawing at the ground. The sailors had been shocked into inaction, but with Franks screaming at them, they started to retrieve the three other cams.

The buffalo’s head snapped around.

“No, no, no!” Rev shouted as he angled his run to try and get between the animal and the sailors.

The buffalo almost rose on its hind legs as it twisted its front to the new direction, and then it started charging. The sailors and Franks immediately saw the danger. The sailors started running, while Franks stepped forward with his M-51 raised.

“Hold your fire,” Rev shouted. “I’m engaging.”

They’d already run simulations. While the two-millimeter darts should be effective against much of the fauna in the valley, they probably would have little effect against the buffalo other than enrage them.

That was why either IBHUs or karnans were with each party leaving the compound.

Rev closed in on it. He couldn’t intercept the charging beast, but he didn’t have to. He raised Pashu, keying in his twenty. The rounds could take out a tank. They should manage a buffalo. But he hesitated. They were supposed to use lethal action only as a last resort.

It was pretty close to that. In a few seconds, Franks, who was still standing tall, would be flattened. But Rev had another option. A non-lethal option. One that had just been developed.

He switched to the sleeper to give it one shot. If it didn’t work, he still had his twenty and beamer.

Rev fired. The sleeper reached out, the blue beam splashing against the buffalo’s neck and shoulder. The roar turned into a screech as the front legs gave out, and the massive beast gouged out a furrow in the green ground cover. It stopped not fifteen meters from Franks, who finally lowered his rifle . . . only to jerk it back up as the buffalo got its forelegs under it again and struggled to stand up, all the time shrieking like a banshee.

The sleeper didn’t need a recharge time like the beamer did. Rev fired one more shot, this time at the buffalo’s head. It collapsed to lie still.

Rev spun around to face the other buffalo, but they were nervously backing up. None showed any inclination to charge. Keeping his eye on them, he approached the downed beast.

“A little close there, Sergeant Major,” Franks said, his voice cracking into a squeak.

“Go round up the tourists,” Rev told him. “I want them out of here.”

Franks started to comply when Rev added, “Good job there. Balls of steel, Lance Corporal.”

Rev slowed and carefully edged up to the buffalo. This close, it looked even larger. It was no wonder it had taken two sleeper blasts to bring it down. The weapon was designed for humans, after all, not living tanks.

The buffalo’s mouth was open, and a long, narrow, bifurcated tongue was hanging out of the side of the mouth, the tips on the ground. They already knew the buffalo ate flora, but the t-rex teeth in the front might indicate that it wasn’t abject to munching on a few fellow critters as well.

He stepped closer to the head, then stopped dead. When Rev had been shot, he’d been out cold. The buffalo was conscious. Two of the eyes tracked Rev. He was sure of that. And he was also sure that he could see both agony and anger in them. It knew Rev was the source of the pain wracking its body.

It was absolutely against the SOP, and Rev wasn’t sure why he did it. But he disconnected his right gauntlet and with his bare hand, reached out to place it on the buffalo’s forehead, right between the horns.

The skin was warm, and he could feel whatever they used as blood coursing under the tough exterior.

“I’m sorry, sir. I’ve been there. I know what you’re going through. But it will fade.”

He stood there for a long moment before he put the gauntlet back on and turned around. He was canc’ing the mission. He didn’t know how long the buffalo’s paralysis would last, but he didn’t want any humans anywhere close to the big guy when it quit.

19

“With all due respect, I think we need to stand down for a while,” Rev said.

Bundy stood by the barrier, looking out over the valley where the numbers of buffalo had increased over the last ten hours.

“Njuguna wants to keep going. She wants as much data gathered as possible before Titan tells us to move on.”

“Look at them. They’re agitated.”

“Maybe, maybe not. And if they are, it could be the weather. We’ve got the other reports that the buffalo and other animals seemed bothered by the wind, and that was before you shot yours.”

Rev knew that could be a reason. The column by the trees had seemed agitated before the encounter. But something told him it was more than that. Punch couldn’t confirm it yet, but it seemed that the mass of buffalo was now more interested in the compound than they were before.

“Sir, with all due respect, our security is more important than the research.”

Bundy frowned. He and Rev were close friends, but they’d shifted to commander and subordinate for this discussion.

“Maybe you’re just personalizing it because you shot the buffalo. You’ve got a habit of doing things like that.”

Rev started to snap back, but he bit his tongue. As the sergeant major, it was his job to push another view, and that gave him a little more leeway than the average lance corporal might have, but Bundy was the commander, and the decision was his.

“Can we at least up the security? Two IBHUs and a karnan with each patrol? And maybe a Jackhammer?”

Bundy considered that for a moment. “Lemmings, too?” he asked, pointing behind Rev.

Back at the gate, about fifty Kanters were passing through the gate. They marched—or bounded—to their own drummer. He didn’t bother to answer.

“OK, not the Kanters, I know. But I think we can up the security. No Jackhammers, though.”

The crew served weapons provided valuable firepower, but they were up on the ships, not on the ground. And Rev understood why Bundy didn’t want to retrieve them. He’d do it if it were up to him, but Bundy had more than tactical considerations.

Rev knew the decision had been made. Now it was time just to accept it. He left Bundy and walked over to where Tomiko was waiting.

“Well?”

“He’s not shutting us down,” Rev said.

“I didn’t think he would.” She took a moment to look down in the valley. “I don’t really see it, either.”

Tomiko had already told him that when he discussed it with her.

“So, you’d be OK bringing down the girls now?” he asked.

“I’m not saying that. Any risk is too much when there is no reason to do something. But this is our job, Rev. And there’s always risk. Besides, we’ve got the Lamix.”

“And we’ve got four patrols out there. And the lemmings left on another just now.”

Tomiko wasn’t convinced. Neither was Punch, for that matter.

Truth be told, Rev wasn’t convinced. Something was going on with the buffalo at their site, but there could be many reasons for that. Maybe he was letting the one he’d shot get to him. He probably shouldn’t have gotten so close, and he shouldn’t have tried to project an accusation into its eyes as it stared at him. It was an animal, not a human.

And the Mother knew how hard it was for him sometimes to know what another human was thinking, much less an alien buffalo.

“Look, Rev. We’ll keep monitoring the situation. If the buffalo and all their friends start holding rallies and telling each other it’s time to storm the Bastille, well, then we can act.”

“I guess so,” he relented.

So why did he feel so uneasy?

* * *

Rev spent much of the next four hours near the barrier, observing as much as he could. Punch confirmed that more of the buffalo were watching the compound than before, but he didn’t have any theory as to what that might mean.

They didn’t move up the slope toward the compound, though, and his unease began to fade. Punch even suggested that Rev had been in combat so many times where anticipating danger was a survival trait, so this might be more of the same behavior. And here, without an enemy, it was unwarranted.

Rev wasn’t sure he wanted his battle buddy psychoanalyzing him, but that didn’t mean he was wrong. It could be just an overabundance of caution.

He left the barrier and returned to the CP. Some work never ended, no matter the situation, and his was piling up. He was neck-deep in reviewing the enlisted evaluations before sending them up to Major White Eagle when the message came in and was relayed to the speaker.

“CP, this is Patrol 44.”

Rev looked up at hearing Strap’s voice. He was leading the security for the mission to the mountains on the other side of the valley.

“We’ve got an issue here. The buffalo won’t let us by.”

Rev dropped the evals, stood, and walked over to stand by the speaker.

“What do you mean?” Sergeant Nichols asked.

“That’s exactly what I mean. We’re trying to return, and we’ve got forty-two of them blocking our way.”

Rev hurried over to where the watch sergeant was at the console. “Just go around them,” he said.

“We tried that, Sergeant Major. But they keep shifting to get in front of us.”

“Uh . . . Strap, are you saying they are actively blocking you?”

“That’s affirmative. We move, they move.”

“Have they shown any signs of aggression?”

“No. Well, not like they’re charging us. But I don’t know how to say this. They still seemed pissed.”

“Wait one,” Rev said, then switched his wristcomp to the P2P.

“Colonel, can you come to the CP. Now,” he passed. “We’ve got a problem.”

“On my way.”

Going back to the console, Rev asked Strap, “Can you upload a feed of what’s happening?”

Upon hearing that, Sergeant Nichols reached over and switched the main feed on the monitor screen to the patrol channel.

A moment later, the live feed, which was from the guardian angel, switched to Strap’s POV from four minutes ago. The patrol was descending the mountain. On the left was an almost sheer rocky face, but ahead and to the right, the terrain flattened out as it more gently flowed to the valley floor. Scattered three-to-four-meter-tall trees dotted the slope.

Several Marines were in Strap’s field of vision, with Cavallo in the forefront, his IBHU at the half-ready.

A herd of buffalo was spread out over a hundred meters and three deep. All of them were facing the humans.

“Cavallo, shift right,” Strap could be heard.

Keeping his face to the buffalo, the IBHU raised his left hand in acknowledgment, then started crabbing to his right, and the Marines behind him followed.

Strap turned around to where the concerned-looking civilians were waiting. He reached out and silently waved the civilians over.

Just as he turned back again, a few of the buffalo moved to their left, the human’s right. A moment later, the entire herd started moving.

Cavallo faltered a moment mid-step, then continued. Within seconds, it was obvious what the buffalo were doing. They were blocking them, just as Strap had said.

“Shit,” Strap muttered.

The buffalo started curving around them, to keep the humans from both the side and downslope. All the while, their four eyes were locked on them.

Cavallo turned his head back to Strap, who ordered, “Halt. Don’t go any farther. I need to call this in.”

The feed cut off, and Strap came back over the net. “Any ideas?”

Their standing orders were not to interfere with the fauna. But what if the fauna was interfering with them? Rev had reacted to a single buffalo, but there were forty-two of these, and he had visions of a mass stampede. Even with Cavallo, there wasn’t enough firepower to turn something like that.

“They didn’t look it from your feed, but are they acting aggressively?” Rev asked.

“Not that I can tell.”

Bundy entered the CP, and Rev told Strap, “Wait one. The CO just came in.”

He gave Bundy a very quick rundown, then had Nichols run the feed again.

“What do you want Staff Sergeant Gantz to do?”

Bundy bit his lower lip for a moment, then he spoke into the mic. “Bring your Marines forward, but slowly. I don’t want you to startle the buffalo. Then get your civilians behind you. No external speakers. You’re to make yourselves as small and unobtrusive as possible.”

“And if they, you know, charge us, sir?”

“Do what you can. Hopefully, they’ll lose interest and wander off, but we’re going to be working on something to get you back here.”

“Aye-aye. I’m on it.”

“Keep that line open,” he told Sergeant Nichols, then to Staff Sergeant Dan, the comms chief for the military side, he ordered, “I want another drone over them. No lower than two hundred meters.”

He turned to Rev. “What do you think?”

“This is new. And I’m not sure it’s the weather, either. They really are keeping the patrol in place, like those Australian shepherds herding sheep.”

Bundy frowned. “I hope they don’t actually start herding them.”

He raised his wristcomp and said, “Major, sorry to wake you, but I need you in the CP.”

Either Bundy or White Eagle was always awake, and the major had just gone off duty to get some sleep three hours ago.

He told Captain Paulliac and Lieutenant Rosa to join him as well, then had Nichols run the feed again.

“At least they don’t seem upset,” he said. “Not like the one you put to sleep.”

They’d all watched both Rev’s POV feed and their guardian angels, and Bundy was right in that there wasn’t much in common with the overall demeanor of the two groups on buffalo.

Bundy closed his eyes like he usually did when he was talking with his battle buddy.

Then he said, “The daily run is due in forty-three minutes. If worse comes to worst, we can divert it to pick them up.”

“A shuttle coming in for a landing might spook the buffalo,” Rev said.

“As a last resort. I just want to have that in my back pocket.

“When White Eagle and the other three get here, brief them up and show them the feed. I’ve got to tell Hyung what’s going on.”

“Not Njuguna?” Rev asked.

Dr. Hyung was the senior civilian on the planet’s surface. Dr. Njuguna was back on the ship.

Bundy shook his head. “Not until we get a handle on the situation. If I tell her, she’ll be commandeering a ride to come down. I’ll let Hyung deal with her. Pull in the gunny, too. I want three plans of action by the time I get back.”

“Roger that.”

In this case, “the gunny” was Lea Tamarin, the ops/chief S-3. An S-3 for a task force like this would usually be a major, but their T/O was completely jumbled and out of the ordinary. There were more officers with Delta Company on the Wahoo than with the larger ground element on the Galaxy Explorer, so there were Marines filling positions far above what would be expected given their rank.

White Eagle, Paulliac, Rosa, and Tamarin arrived, and after a quick brief and watching the feed, they put their heads together to come up with a plan. Rev kept glancing at the live feed. The situation was static, but he knew that could change on a dime. They had to come up with something quickly before Bundy returned.

“I don’t care how many of them there are,” Major White Eagle said. “They can’t stand up to all of us. Just form a flying V, blast our way through if we have to, and retrieve them.”

“All of us” to White Eagle meant the IBHUs and maybe the karnans. Almost everything to White Eagle centered around the IBHUs. Rev agreed that together, all of them would present a powerful military force. But he’d seen the buffalo he’d dropped and how it had taken two shots to lay it out.

Granted, his beamer and twenty were far more powerful weapons, but there were at least a thousand of the buffalo out there, and that didn’t take into consideration all the other animals, some of which were pretty substantial in their own right.

“There’s still the shuttle,” Rev said.

The major just grunted.

“And the buffalo could move on,” Paulliac added.

“Does it look like they’re moving on, Captain?”

“No, sir.”

“So then why—”

Whatever the major was going to say was cut off when the compound alarm kicked off.

Rev was out of his chair and running for the door before the second blast. “What is it?”

<Sector Three is alerting.>

Rev pivoted and ran around to the other side of the CP. Marines were in motion, moving to the barrier.

“I want the QRF at Sector Three now!” he passed on the prime net.

The Quick Reaction Force was probably already on the way, but it didn’t hurt to make sure.

Rev bolted to the barrier. It took a moment for what he saw to register. About three hundred meters away, a carpet was flowing over and around the animals, causing the pronghorns and billyboys to bolt and jackdaws to burst into flight. The carpet resolved into Kanters running for all they were worth and heading for the compound. There were no flips, no high jumps—just determined running.

But what was a hundred meters behind them made Rev’s heart jump into his throat. Nine buffalo were charging the fleeing Kanters, their eyes almost laser-bright and water vapor rising from their bodies.

A dozen Kanters were running with them. These were not fleeing. They were darting in and out of the buffalo’s legs as the big animals thundered on. Some were jumping up onto the shoulders, heads, and backs, either doing somersaults and backflips off, falling in front of the big animal’s faces, or firing their various sidearms. In the first few seconds, one of the Kanters grabbed at a buffalo’s horn, and, using it as an anchor, leaned over to fire a handgun point blank at one of the right eyes.

The buffalo let out a shriek so piercing and high that it was clearly audible inside the compound. It stumbled, whipping its head up at the last moment. The Kanter, still grasping the horn, was flung into the air, its body cartwheeling uncontrollably.

It tried to regain some semblance of control, but it fell too close to one of the other buffalo. With an almost casual flick of its head, it caught the Kanter with one of its horns, impaling the brave warrior. With another twist, the body slid off to be trampled into the dirt.

“Randigold, get over here!” Rev shouted as the QRF ran up.

Two more Kanters were trampled, but they were succeeding in their mission. They were clearly bothering the buffalo, and that was slowing them down. The main body of Kanters was slightly increasing the gap between them.

<They are not heading here. They’re angling to the gate.>

No shit, Reverent. They need the gate.

“Over to the gate, Eth.”

She slid to a halt and looked at Rev like he was crazy. First over here and now the gate?

“Just go. They’ll be coming in the compound there.”

Unless . . .

“Miko! Where are you?”

“Coming. What the hell’s going on?”

“Can you get to the barrier control?”

“Can I? Sure.”

“How long to turn it off?”

“Why would we do that?”

“How long, Miko?” he shouted.

“A second, once I hit the switch.”

“And how long to power up?”

“About five seconds. Why? What’s going on, Rev?”

“Just get there and stand by. I hope it doesn’t come to that, but get ready to drop the barrier on my command, then power it back up.”

“What—”

“No time. Just do it!”

“Keep calculating, Punch. I want to know if the lemmings can reach the gate before being caught.”

<Understood.>

Rev shifted to the right so he had a better view of the breadth of land around the compound the Kanters would have to cover, then he looked back at the buffalo. One completely stopped the chase and spun around on its hind legs while lifting up the front part of its body. It slammed back down, trying to smash a Kanter, which darted to the right and just missed getting killed. It bounded up over the side and onto the beast’s back, and it looked like it bit the buffalo. Whatever it did, it seemed to enrage the animal, and it bolted to the side, bucking up and down.

It crashed into a billyboy that wasn’t able to get out of the way. The smaller animal’s back was snapped, and it wailed piteously until a second step crushed its head.

The Kanter jumped free and was lost to Rev’s sight.

Major White Eagle was taking charge of the Marines at the gate and shooing the civilians out of the way. Tiwari and Hvarser spotted Rev and, like the bodyguard role they’d assumed, ran up to flank him.

They probably should be at the gate, but Rev let them stay. They’d probably insist on remaining anyway, and a smart leader didn’t give orders his subordinates wouldn’t obey.

Beyond the charging buffalo, others were starting to react. Now at a trot, twenty or thirty were heading their way. Rev ignored them. Whatever was going to happen was with the eight that were still being harassed by the Kanter rear guard.

Now seven. Amazingly, a Kanter had managed to drop one of the beasts after firing a small incendiary round right through one of its eyes. The buffalo never made a sound as it collapsed, its body tearing up the ground cover, while flames shot out of the side of its face. The Kanter waited until the body slid to a stop before it jumped off and looked for the next one to bother.

<The main body should be able to reach the gate in time. That doesn’t hold true for the rear guard.>

It was hard to tell between the dust and the confusing movements, but it looked like six of the Kanters were still alive. Their sacrifice was not in vain, though. The leading Kanters were already hitting the gate. The rest should be inside within ten or fifteen seconds.

The rear guard Kanters must have realized that as well because, on some unseen command, they switched to escape mode. They left the buffalo alone and shot forward at their top speed.

Rev didn’t need Punch to tell him they weren’t going to make it. They were only forty meters from the barrier, but they had another three hundred around the perimeter to reach the gate. A Marine in a PAL could walk through right here. They didn’t need a gate. But the Kanters couldn’t come through here, not with—”

“Screw it,” he said.

He wasn’t going to stand by and watch the worst unfold.

<What are you planning?> Punch asked, sounding apprehensive.

“Tomiko, stand by. I’ll give you the command.”

“Rev, what are you planning to do?”

If Rev thought Punch sounded apprehensive, he knew Tomiko was.

“Just trust me. I don’t have time to explain.”

The trailing Kanter was caught and flung into the air, slowing down the buffalo a tiny bit. But if it had sacrificed itself to give the rest more time, it wasn’t enough. The buffalo were too focused.

Rev stepped right up to the barrier, and as the Kanters started to cross in front of him, he shouted over his externals, set to maximum output. “Kanters! Over here. Come into the compound here!”

He was afraid they wouldn’t hear him. Or maybe he was afraid they would, and he’d have to put this crazy plan into action. But they immediately pivoted and sprinted up to him.

A Kanter massed about fifteen kilos and was extremely agile. The buffalo’s agility belied their size, but they still massed more than fifteen hundred kilos, and physics was physics galaxy-wide. They rushed past the Kanters’ pivot point, and it took two or three bounding steps to be able to make their own turn. That gave the Kanters a few extra seconds. Rev hoped it was enough.

He pulled out his MF-30 sidearm. It was pitifully small against the charging beasts, but he felt better with it in his hand. Beside him, Tiwari and Hvarser stepped up, M-51s raised into the assault position.

“Get ready, Miko.”

She didn’t argue this time.

Punch took issue, though. <This is not a logical move. Please rethink it.>

The Kanters covered the distance quickly, trusting Rev. Hitting the barrier could kill them. And if it didn’t, they’d be either stunned or unconscious and easy pickings for the buffalo.

They were just fifteen meters away, running at top speed, when Rev yelled, “Now, Miko!”

Around the camp, the entire barrier disappeared an instant before the five Kanters hit it.

They shot into the compound, and Rev shouted, “Back on!”

The lights flickered as the power drained to energize on the barrier again. Rev aimed his MF-30 at the nearest buffalo. He could feel the ground shake under as it pounded closer, and he thought he could almost feel the heat it generated.

Tiwari fired, the darts stitching up its face but doing nothing to stop the roaring beast.

Rev braced himself and fired as it closed the last ten meters. The buffalo leaped forward, ready to crush them, and slammed into the barrier, which let out a cavalcade of sparks and lightning bolts at the release of raw power. The buffalo almost folded in on itself, and two more slammed into it from behind.

Oh, thank the Mother.

<Two-tenths of a second. Two-tenths. Do you realize how close that was?>

“Close only matters with horseshoes and hand grenades,” he said as he stood there and tried to absorb what he was seeing.

20

“I don’t give a good goddamn,” Bundy shouted into his wristcomp. “Screw your risk assessment. Get your ass down there and pick up the patrol.”

Rev marched up to the CO, who saw him, put a hand over the comp, and snarled, “Stand by, Sergeant Major.”

Rev sighed while Bundy dealt with getting Strap and his patrol retrieved. According to the SOP that had been worked out, Bundy should have been communicating with the ship, but from the sound of it, he was dealing with the pilot directly.

There was controlled chaos throughout the compound. All of the civilians were being rounded up and staged inside the CP while the military were donning combat suits and moving into their assigned defensive positions.

“Sergeant Major, can we get—” Over-corporal Dunt shouted as he spotted Rev, who waved a hand, cutting the karnan off.

Dunt gave him a questioning look, then turned and ran off.

“Here comes another one,” someone shouted over their external speaker.

Rev turned to where several Carabinieri were gathering at the barrier. On the other side, a buffalo was slowly approaching. It stopped short of the barrier and stood stock-still for a moment before it stuck out its long, snake-like, bifurcated tongue. When the tips reached the barrier, sparks shot out in a shower, and the beast grunted and almost fell over in its haste to back up.

Don’t like it, do you?

Three of the buffalo had slammed into the Lamix while chasing the Kanters. One was still down and barely moving, but the other two had staggered to their feet after a few moments and stumbled off. Two more of the seven that had charged the Kanters had tentatively brushed against the barrier, only to get zapped.

Rev didn’t know if he could tell one buffalo from the other, but he had a feeling that this guy hadn’t taken part in chasing the Kanters. Hopefully, the word would get out, if he could put it that way, that the compound needed to be avoided.

With all the activity going on, Rev felt as if he were alone on an island. He was getting covert glances, but no one approached him.

No humans. At least a dozen Kanters had run up to him from the time the barrier had reenergized to when he marched over to where Bundy had summoned him. Four had thanked him in their almost perfect Standard, while the rest ran up, rose on their hind legs, and placed their front paws on his waist. Each one stared at his eyes for a moment before running off.

Even Punch was giving him the silent treatment. His battle buddy often went long periods of time without speaking to him, but somehow, the silence inside him now was deafening. It felt purposeful.

Rev knew he’d screwed up. Putting the compound and everyone in it at risk for five Kanters was not an acceptable course of action. The Kanters themselves had accepted the concept of sacrificing the few for the many. The five he’d saved had stayed behind to delay the rampaging buffalo so the rest could escape.

But Rev wasn’t built that way. He couldn’t let their bravery dictate their death. This might seem laudatory to a civilian, but it was both stupid and dangerous for a leader of Marines.

I’d do it again, though.

For him, the end justified the means. It had worked with no loss of human—or more Kanter—life.

And truth be told, he wasn’t sure that there had been a risk. He may not have asked Punch to calculate to the nanosecond whether he could drop the barrier and bring it back up again in time, but he’d asked Tomiko, and he knew how much time he had. Sure, he’d cut it close. But he’d been right.

He knew he couldn’t tell Bundy that, though. Bundy didn’t act on feelings. He wanted hard and fast numbers. He was going to chew Rev’s ass, and Rev was just going to have to stand and take it.

Bundy seemed to have won his argument with the pilot and was staring up into the sky, so Rev said, “I know I was—”

“Shut up until I tell you to speak!”

Rev’s mouth dropped open. Yes, he knew Bundy was angry, but in their going on twenty years together, he’d never yelled at him like that.

His friend was staring at the sky, and Rev could see his neck pulsing, his jaw clenched. He refused to turn around and acknowledge Rev.

OK, if that’s the way it is.

Rev had been ready to apologize, but now his dander was up. He glared at Bundy.

The two stood there, statues, while the rest of the compound was in full activity. Tiwari and Hvarser returned in their PALs, and Rev gave them the hand and arm signal to stand back and wait for him. Several Kanters came up to them, and they looked over at Rev as well, but they must have been able to feel the tension, and they steered clear.

Finally, a crack reverberated in the sky. Rev looked up, and the shuttle appeared. It was conducting a combat landing, where speed and limiting exposure were paramount. The shuttle reached the far side of the valley and corkscrewed in, coming down almost on top of Strap’s patrol. It was coming in fast, only flaring at the last moment while orienting toward the valley.

So it can aim its nose gun at the buffalo, Rev realized.

Anger at Bundy forgotten for a moment, Rev held his breath while watching for the flashes of a thirty-millimeter cannon, which would mean it had to engage the buffalo. But nothing lit up the far mountainside, and in twenty-five short seconds, the shuttle lifted off again.

Somehow Strap had gotten a bunch of civilians loaded in that amount of time, which was a miracle.

Bundy still didn’t say anything as the shuttle made a slower flight over the valley. Animals looked up as it passed over, and pronghorns spooked and ran out from under its path. Buffalo simply watched.

The shuttle came in and landed on the LZ. The back ramp lowered, and the Marines ran out. Rev counted all nine and sighed with relief. The civilians stayed aboard, and a few moments later, he knew why. Staff Sergeant Dan emerged from the CP with nineteen civilians. They ran to the shuttle and disappeared up the ramp, which started to close right after. Even before it snicked shut, the shuttle was lifting.

It made sense. The civilians were being evacuated, at least until the situation on the ground could be assessed and longer-term decisions made. The question was why Rev was only seeing that now. He was the sergeant major. Shouldn’t he be part of the decision-making process?

He turned to look at Bundy, who was watching the shuttle and still ignoring him.

The bastard’s shutting me out. Eat me, Bundy. I know I did wrong, but let’s take care of the situation before you start establishing your dominance.

Bundy waited until the shuttle was clear of the compound and climbing toward space before he slowly turned to face him.

Rev returned Bundy’s glare, emotion for emotion. He’d take whatever was coming to him, but he wasn’t going to back down now and apologize. He knew that was childish and unworthy, but he’d been through a wringer over the last fourteen hours, from the attack by the buffalo he’d put to sleep to Strap and the rest being trapped to the Kanter escape.

“You put the entire compound in danger, Sergeant Major.”

“With all due respect, sir,” he started, his tone not hiding that he meant nothing of the kind. “I may have opened the compound to potential risk, but it was never in danger. The Lamix held.”

Bundy snapped. “What the hell are you talking about? You don’t think a dozen buffalo rampaging inside the compound would be a danger?” he sputtered, spit flying out of his mouth.

“There were seven, not a dozen,” Rev said. “And they never got inside the compound. Sir.”

“Only by the grace of the Mother! That first one hit two-tenths of a second after the barrier was restored.”

<Don’t say it,> Punch warned him, the first thing he’d said to him since the incident.

I wasn’t going to say the horseshoe thing.

Maybe.

“Two-tenths of a second or two hours, it was up, and the buffalo didn’t get in.”

Bundy’s mouth gaped open and closed a few times as if he couldn’t believe Rev had said that.

“Are you that fucking obtuse?”

Bundy rarely cursed. Neither did Rev, for that matter, but tit-for-tat.

“I’m fucking smart. I knew how much time we had. To the tenth of a second. And I was right.”

“And if Miko had taken a split second more? What then?”

“I knew she wouldn’t.”

But Rev gave a little internal grimace as he said that, though. Bundy was right. In addition to exaggerating how much he had anything calculated, he couldn’t control Tomiko’s reaction time.

“There it is. The famous Pelletier arrogance.”

Whatever little bit Rev had just admitted to himself was blown away by a renewed rush of anger.

“Arrogance?”

“Arrogance. It’s your MO. It’s what everyone knows about you. Reverent Pelletier. Disobeys orders on the asteroid because he knows better. Disobeys on Earth. Fights the Naxli one-on-one like a damn Roman gladiator. Always acting, never thinking because you know better than anyone else.”

Rev lowered his voice but retained the cold steel and said, “And all those cases. Was I wrong? Was I wrong here?”

Bundy’s eyes flashed as he tried to come up with an answer, and Rev felt a flash of victory.

“You can’t be right forever. One mistake, and you and everyone around you are dead.”

Rev said, “Then I won’t make a mistake.”

He pointed out beyond the barrier and into the valley. “You can stand here and show you’ve got the biggest balls all you want. OK, I’m arrogant. But I’m not wrong, and I know now that those creatures are still a threat. I need to get Pashu and be ready to defend the Marines and civilians here. Because that’s what I do. I take care of my people.”

Rev knew he was way out of bounds, but at the moment, he didn’t care. He spun on his heel and strode off toward the armory. He half expected Bundy to order him to halt, and he wasn’t sure what he’d do if he did.

Bundy let him go, though.

Rev was still angry, but part of his heart was broken. What the hell had just happened, and how had he let it get that far?

* * *

“Systems check.”

<All systems green. Full combat load. Power at seventy-three-point-six percent.>

Rev scootched his butt a few times to try and eliminate wrinkles. But at the moment, he’d accept a hundred of them just to get in his PAL with Pashu hooked up. The Lamix may have stopped the buffalo, but the number of them moving into the valley had already grown over the last hour. What would happen if they all decided to attack? Would the barrier stand?

Rev had tried to put what just happened out of his mind. Whether he was right or wrong, he had been right in one thing, at least. He needed to be combat-ready and actively addressing the situation, not standing there getting his ass chewed.

Even if he deserved it. Maybe when they were back on the ship, he and Bundy could sit down and calmly go over what happened and forge a path forward. But that was not as important as making sure the compound was safe.

Satisfied that he was ready, he marched out of the armory and headed to the barrier control. Tomiko, Kelly, and Corporal Santiago had the cover off and were poking around inside.

“Is everything OK?” he asked.

Tomiko turned around and in almost a monotone, said, “We’re up but at sixty-three percent power.”

“What? Why?” he asked, glancing over at the compound’s fusion reactor. “We’re not generating?”

“The reactor’s fine. The input’s good. It’s the output that’s screwed up.”

“What’s wrong with it?”

“That’s what we’re trying to find out.”

Santiago, who was not in his PAL, pulled out of the console. “I’m sorry, Sergeant Major. I’m trying to figure this out.”

Santiago had been selected to be the Lamix tech and had gone through a three-day course on the system. That hardly made him a technical expert, though. The only thing he could do now was to go through the extensive checklist and see if the manual had an answer based on the readings.

“I know, Fant. You’re doing a good job. Keep on, and you’ll figure it out.”

Santiago gave a weak smile and returned to his checks. Neither Tomiko nor Kelly said anything.

“Well, nothing to say?” he asked Tomiko on the P2P.

“About what?”

“Come on, Miko. You’re pissed, just like Bundy.”

“I’m not pissed.”

“You sure sound like it.”

Tomiko turned around until they were face-to-face. “I knew who you were when I married you. No, before that. Maybe since boot camp. You’re not going to change, but you are the man I fell in love with.”

Rev wasn’t expecting that, and he wasn’t sure how to respond.

“And the barrier coming down?” he finally asked.

“I knew what you were going to do as soon as you asked me about the timing. I could have refused you, but . . . you were being true to who you are.”

“You’re not happy, though,” Rev said, stating the obvious.

But sometimes, the obvious had to be stated.

“No, I’m not. I didn’t like what you did, but I expected it. I am not happy that I took part. I’m just as much at fault as you are, but the thing is, I knew better. What I did . . . I wasn’t me.”

Rev wanted to remind her that everything worked out, but he stayed quiet.

Tomiko took his gauntleted hand in hers and said, “You go do your sergeant majoring. We’ll get this fixed or at least find out what’s wrong, then let you know.”

He hesitated. He should say something, but he wasn’t the most eloquent person in the galaxy.

“We’ve got it, Rev. You go.”

Hearing Tomiko say she was upset with herself was worse than getting reamed by Bundy, but he wasn’t going to fix anything now. He nodded and left the three to their task.

21

Colonel-Captain Sjekvic stepped up beside Rev. He’d had very little contact with the MDS commander since they arrived at Bare Rock what seemed like years ago despite the twenty-three karnans who were with the Marines. He wasn’t even sure how many MDS soldiers were on the Strike Eagle. More than Marines, almost certainly. They certainly created far more karnans than IBHUs, and even if rumors about their casualty rate were true, there had to be large numbers that were exiled. But they’d been more than a little circumspect about their situation.

After the buffalo attack, the MDS commander had come down to the surface with twenty non-karnan soldiers to “assist with security.” By rank, he was senior to Bundy, but the Marines, working under Dr. Njuguna, were still in charge of the security of the compound.

“I heard you’re in the doghouse, Sergeant Major,” the colonel-captain said.

Rev wasn’t sure how he should answer that. It seemed like a loaded question—and one that might be tricky to navigate. The MDS were allies and all, but Rev wasn’t naïve enough to think that even out here, in the far reaches of the galaxy, politics wasn’t in play.

There was also his choice of words. The MDS knew what the rest of humanity called them. So, why use the word “doghouse?” Was there some deeper meaning there?

He gave a noncommittal grunt.

The slightest of smiles tilted the corners of the commander’s mouth. “What you did was tactically foolish,” he said as if stating something as unremarkable as that the sun was up.

Now I’m getting it from a Mad Dog?

“But warriors sometimes have to act on what’s right, not what some manual says should be done. What you did, Sergeant Major, was honorable. In our army, you would be lauded, not castigated.”

That was unexpected. Rev turned to stare at the colonel-captain, who was simply looking out past the barrier. Just two men chatting.

But Rev knew this wasn’t a casual moment. The MDS commander probably never did anything casually and without purpose.

So, what’s his game?

Colonel-Captain Sjekvic sighed and then said, “I just wanted you to know that, Sergeant Major. We appreciate the kind of soldier you’re revealing yourself to be. You should come over to the Strike Eagle sometime. I’d love for you to give our seniors the benefit of your experience.”

“Senior” was the MDS equivalent term for staff NCO.

“I’d . . . that would be up to Lieutenant Colonel Bundy, sir.”

“Oh, of course. I wouldn’t dream of anything else. And it’s no big thing. I just think your views would be beneficial to my soldiers. And with that, I should be getting back to my soldiers. It’s been a pleasure, Sergeant Major.”

Rev watched the colonel-captain stride off across the camp.

WTF?

This short exchange was surreal, and there was too much to unpack. He had no idea what the MDS commander was really saying. Was there some barely hidden message there? An invitation?

Rev wasn’t the person to untangle Machiavellian knots. Bundy was. Rev should bring it to him, but at the moment, that wasn’t going to happen. And he didn’t think Punch would be much help, either.

Just forget it. Get back to what you’re doing now.

That was easier said than done, and for the next few minutes, his mind kept going back to what the colonel-captain had said. The short incident was decidedly weird.

“Rev, we’ve found something. Can you come back here?” Tomiko asked over the P2P. The colonel-captain was forgotten as Rev started jogging over to the barrier console. Tiwari and Hvarser saw him and, as his self-appointed bodyguards, jumped up to join him, but he waved them back.

Their attention was both embarrassing and annoying. He was still an IBHU, after all, and their M-51s couldn’t do a tenth of what Pashu could. But it was a little gratifying at the same time that they were so dedicated.

Bundy, White Eagle, Dr. Hyung, and Agent Wolf were converging on the console as well. And then Rev spotted Colonel-Captain Sjekvic as well.

The entire brain trust. Looks significant.

He gave Wolf the side-eye as he pulled up to a stop. The man was in charge of security on the civilian side of things, so it made sense that he was summoned, but as far as Rev was concerned, the less he knew about things, the better it would be for everyone.

Tomiko waited until everyone arrived, then without a long preamble, and in a somber voice, said, “I think we found out what’s wrong with the Lamix. Corporal Santiago?”

The corporal looked nervous. He cleared his throat and said, “I’m not really a tech. I’m just a grunt. But I followed the troubleshooting checklist, and on Two-D . . . uh, that’s one of the lists . . . it says that the . . . let me read it here.” He raised his pad, cleared his throat again, and said, “Safety Relay engagement retards the flow to 60 percent when a surge is detected to prevent catastrophic output and system damage. If continued surging occurs, the relay shuts off the system until the malfunctioning module is replaced.”

He looked up with a hopeful expression.

“It’s like we blew a fuse, which shut down the module,” Kelly added. “So, no power was actually getting to the pylons.”

“But the barrier is still operating,” Dr. Hyung said.

“At sixty-three percent, sir,” Tomiko said. “And there are three modules for redundancy. When one fails, the rest can keep the barrier operating at a lower power level.”

“What caused the failure?” Agent Wolf asked. “Were you able to tell that?”

The three Marines exchanged a quick glance between each other, and then Tomiko picked up a fist-sized module from their portable workbench.

“This is the guilty module. She spun it around in her hand and asked, “See these marks?”

There were several scratches along one of the edges.

“We don’t know when these were made. It could have been during the initial assembly, or it could have been done on the ship or even here on the planet. And they could signify nothing important. But they could also indicate that there’s been some tampering.”

That caught everyone’s attention.

Rev’s hackles rose, and he glanced at Wolf, then at the colonel-captain.

Sabotage? Again?

“We don’t have the ability to determine that ourselves. That will have to be done on the ship. But from the numbers we were able to run, they could indicate that the module was damaged, but only to a certain extent. It was able to process the power until an output surge, even one well below the safe specs, blew past what it was able to handle in its damaged state.”

Bundy didn’t turn to look at him when Tomiko said “output surge,” as in “three buffalo hitting the barrier,” but Rev thought he could feel the glare all the same.

“So, to be sure I’m understanding this, the module was damaged, but it was still functional enough to help power up the system until there was enough of a power drain to make it fail?” Bundy asked.

“Yes, sir. That’s pretty much it.”

“You’re implying that there might be something, well, a little sinister in why it failed? Is that it?” Dr. Hyung asked.

Kelly nervously shifted her feet, and Tomiko said, “Yes, sir. I am saying that.”

“But it could just be a manufacturing flaw, right? I mean, the Mother knows we’ve had a lot of those,” Hyung continued.

“It could be, but here’s the kicker. We checked the other two modules. Once again, we can’t be sure until they are tested in more detail, but their test numbers aren’t what they should be, either. And they have similar scratch marks on them. We think they’ve been damaged, too, and that it’s a miracle that they didn’t blow as well.”

“Sabotage,” Rev said, not realizing he was speaking aloud.

Wolf gave him a hard stare, though.

“So, you’re telling me that if another buffalo charges the barrier again, the entire thing could shut down?” Hyung asked, his voice rising several octaves.

“I . . . we think that’s a real possibility,” Tomiko said.

“That’s it,” Hyung said. “We’re done here. I’ll inform Dr. Njuguna, but I’m closing this down.”

“But the buffalos have calmed down. They’ve learned not to touch the barrier,” White Eagle said.

“For how long, Major? We’ve seen that they can be aggressive. How long before another one loses control and charges us?”

Rev wasn’t sure that was Hyung’s call, but as he and White Eagle turned to the compound commander, Bundy said, “Major White Eagle, start final tear-down procedures. I want to be off the planet in four hours.”

Just like that, the decision was made. Task Force 30-19 was leaving the Goldilocks planet.

22

“There seems to be more of them,” Tiwari said.

“Punch?”

<I would estimate that there are five thousand of the buffalo in the valley now and twenty-two thousand of the larger fauna.>

“Punch says they’re five thousand of the buffalo here now,” he told his two Marines.

“And were there when we got here? Fifty, na?”

“Forty-three on the day we arrived. But that could be because we caught them at the tip of a migration. That could also be the reason they’re aggressive. Too many of them in the same place.”

“They don’t look like they’re migrating,” Hvarser said.

Rev wasn’t sure he was buying that either, but when dealing with junior enlisted, he was more inclined to toe the party line.

“Or this valley could be their destination,” Rev said.

“To do what?”

“On the Mother, there’s an island in the Arctic Sea where sixty percent of the planet’s walruses go to breed. Wrangel Island, it’s called,” Tiwari said.

“So, they’re here to get laid?” she asked.

“OK, that’s enough grab-assing. We’ve still got a lot to do,” Rev said.

Well, I’ve got a lot to do. They’re just following me.

All of the civilians, except for four who were still breaking down gear in the CP, had already been evacuated. And that meant that the military personnel were doing the grunt work of packing up the last of the compound. The IBHU Marines, karnans, and Carabinieri were on security, while the rest of the personnel were doing the heavy work.

There had been a bit of bitching about that, and Rev knew that it could be causing more of a balkanization between the various military personnel, but in this case, it made tactical sense. IBHU Marines weren’t particularly good at manual labor with their weapons, but they could provide better firepower if needed.

Still, the widening rift was something that had to be addressed. When the Wahoo left, that would alleviate some of the tension, but there were still far more regular Marines than IBHUs in the company.

“What’s the status of the chow hall?” Major White Eagle asked on the P2P. “I want those fabricators treated with kid gloves.

Rev rolled his eyes. As sergeant major, he shouldn’t have to be getting down into the weeds. But with Tomiko on the barrier, which would be the last thing to come down, he’d had to shoulder some of the company gunny duties.

“I’ll check, sir.”

“Let’s go,” he told the other two and headed across the compound.

“What’s going on over there?” Tiwari asked.

“Breaking down camp,” Rev said before looking to where the Dalit Marine was pointing.

“It doesn’t look like it, na.”

It was true. A group of four Marines had stopped rolling up a cable spool and were looking out past the barrier.

“Wait a minute,” Rev said as he altered course to the Marines.

They knew everyone was operating under a deadline, but they were acting like it was Sunday in the park. Rev was going to light a fire under their asses.

“How about you quit playing tourist and get back to work,” he said as he came up on them.

All four spun around at the words, but instead of jumping back to the task, Sergeant Toman pointed and said, “Look over there, Sergeant Major. Near the west entrance.”

“I’m not here to play tourist, either. We’re leaving, in case you’ve forgotten.”

But he turned to follow the Delta Company Marine’s point and scanned the far distance. It looked normal, just more animals milling about. Except . . .

Rev opened his thigh holster, removed his Optisight, and zoomed in.

“Holy shit,” he said in awe.

Six new buffalo were among the animals at the entrance. Except these had to be twelve meters tall at the shoulder, three times the size of the others in the valley.

“Are they even the same species?” he asked Punch.

<It is impossible to tell without a closer examination, but they could be. The similarities are striking.>

Rev laid down his overlay of the valley. They were fifteen-point-six kilometers from the near edge of the compound. Close enough to glass with the Optisight, but too far to get a very detailed view, even with his PAL’s magnification.

“We need a better look.”

“I see them, Sergeant Toman, but we need that cable rolled up. Get to it.”

Rev, with his two shadows, jogged over to the CP. It was a mess inside, with sealed and open crates everywhere. Rev made his way to the far side and looked around for the drone console.

“I need to see a feed,” he told Sergeant Suarez. “Near the west entrance.”

“Uh, we don’t have anything out there, Sergeant Major.”

Rev scrunched up his face. “You don’t have any coverage on the west entrance? Where all the new animals are coming into the valley?”

“Yes. I mean, we don’t have any. Not just there. We don’t have any drones out,” he said, pointing to the line of cases, their lids open.

Nestled drones, ready for shipment, were inside. Many more were lined up on tables while the staff sergeant’s two Marines were servicing them.

“We’ve still got three hours here, and you’ve packed up all our eyes on the valley? Whose brilliant idea was that?”

“The major told me to prioritize them, and I thought . . . it takes a long time to put them to sleep and pack them up. And I had to get them back here first.”

Rev shook his head, and the staff sergeant tentatively said, “We still have the orbital eyes.”

“You get one of those drones ready and send it out. I need eyes there.” He looked to where the screens had been. The table was empty. “Don’t tell me.”

The staff sergeant shrugged and said, “We packed them up while the drones were flying back. They’re already at the LZ.”

By the Mother!

“OK, look. There’re six giant buffalo coming into the valley, and I really mean giant. Send out your drone and give me five minutes on them. Tell me when they get back so I can see what we’ve got.”

“Sure thing, Sergeant Major.”

But Rev had already tuned him out and brought up Bundy on the P2P. “Colonel, we’ve got six huge buffalo in the valley now. There’re at least three times bigger than the others here. Suarez’s already brought in our drones, but I told him to send one out to take a look.”

“Where are they?” Bundy asked,

“At the west entrance.”

“So, no immediate threat. We’ll be out of here in three hours. Tell Sergeant Suarez to canc the drone and continue the load out.”

“Sir? Don’t you think we need to take a look? I don’t think you realize the size of these things.”

“Sergeant Major, our job is security, not science, and six animals, no matter how big they are, hanging out fifteen klicks away, are not a threat. The civilians might be creaming in their jeans to get a look at them, but they’re going to have to rely on the orbitals.”

“They could be a threat, sir,” Rev said, hoping to come up with something to convince him.

“And I could sprout wings and fly. Just get back to your task, Sergeant Major, which is helping us get off this planet.”

“Why doesn’t he see this is important?” Rev subvocalized.

<Maybe it isn’t. Lieutenant Colonel Bundy doesn’t think it is.>

“But he’s wrong!”

<You think he’s wrong. He thinks you’re arrogant, always thinking you are right.>

Ouch!

But Rev wasn’t going to completely surrender.

“Aye-aye, sir. But I’d like to have someone monitor their progress. I want to know if they get closer.”

There was a pause, and he thought Bundy was going to refuse him. But in a terse voice, he said. “OK. But one of the security team. No one else. Bundy out.”

It wasn’t what Rev wanted, but he knew it was all he was going to get. He’d take it. He had no choice.

“Cancel the drone,” he shouted at Suarez before he ran out to find out which IBHU was in the best position to watch.

* * *

“Damn, they’re huge. Can you imagine bagging one of them?” Major White Eagle asked.

Rev wasn’t thinking of trophy hunting. He was surprised that the big beasts had covered so much distance in the last hour. The smaller buffalo normally moved at a sedate three kilometers per hour. The six bigger animals had covered 5,600 meters. And now, they were followed by two more about a klick behind.

“Have they deviated from their course?” he asked Tsao, who he’d given the task of keeping track of the giant animals.

“Not at all.”

Which means they are on a beeline toward us.

“Maybe we should let the CO know?” Rev prompted.

“I guess. Go ahead,” White Eagle said.

Which wasn’t what Rev was hoping for. “I think it might be better coming from you, sir.”

White Eagle lowered his Optisight and looked at him. “Is he still on your ass?”

“You can say that.”

“Well, you fucked up,” the major said. But then he added. “I would have done the same thing, though. Sometimes, you’ve gotta do what you’ve gotta do, and damn the consequences.”

Rev hadn’t expected that, and it was good to know that the major was on his side—sort of, at least.

“I’ve got it. I’ll tell him.” He looked back toward the compound. “Do you think we’ll make his timeline?”

“I don’t know, sir.”

And he didn’t. There was still a lot of gear to get off the surface, and until more shuttle loads were done, he couldn’t make any sort of estimate.

“Well, then, we’d better get cracking.”

“If they get four klicks out, I want to know,” he told Tsao over the P2P.

He gave the approaching giants one last look before stepping off.

* * *

“Sergeant Major, what do I do with the trash at the burn pit? The power to the scrubbers is already disconnected,” Strap asked over the P2P.

“I’m just around the corner. Wait one.”

The last two hours were hectic. Rev would like to think there was order in the chaos, but there really wasn’t much. And that was unsat. There hadn’t been a plan created for an emergency evacuation of an established compound. The civilians had kept adding more and more equipment, and neither their logistical staff nor the military had thought about how that might affect a situation like this.

Part of his mind was still on the giant buffalo, but the constant barrage of problems for which he was evidently the only person alive who could fix them monopolized his attention, shoving the buffalo into being an afterthought.

Rev jogged around the armory, which looked about ready to be collapsed and bundled for shipment. Strap was standing by the burn pit with three of his Marines.

The burn pit was their last resort for trash. After everything that could be recycled was removed, the remainder was burned on a daily basis. But the environmental regulations still existed, and the smoke had to be run through the EC-50 filter, which hung over the pit like some high-end kitchen exhaust fan.

“They already took down Number 3,” Strap said. “It was supposed to be up for another fifteen minutes.”

“Miko, what’s the story with the Number 3 station?” Rev asked.

“Already packed and being moved to the LZ.”

“I’m standing here with Strap. They’ve still got trash at the burn pit.”

“They were supposed to finish that thirty minutes ago. Anything else? I’m rather busy right now.”

“No, go to it.”

He turned to Strap and said, “The gunny said you were supposed to take care of this half an hour ago.”

“No one told me that,” he protested. “I swear, Sergeant Major!”

“No one is accusing anyone else. The question is what to do about it now.”

Rev had a couple of choices. He could tell Strap to try and run a power cable from one of the stations that were still online. Or he could tell Strap to just burn the trash and get the filter over to the LZ, ignoring the regulations.

He took Option 3.

“Leave the trash and get the filter out of here.”

“Sergeant Major?” Strap asked.

Which was understandable. Leaving anything on a virgin planet was a huge violation that could result in immense fines for civilians or courts-martial for military personnel.

“The situation’s out of our hands. Just do it, and I’ll take the heat. What are they going to do? Take me out of exile and stick me in the brig?”

Multar and Leek, who’d been standing by and listening, laughed out loud. “I guess you’re right there,” Strap said.

“But hurry your ass up,” Rev said. “We’ve got to keep those shuttles running.”

Behind them, the next shuttle, this one from the Strike Eagle, came in for a landing. Rev hadn’t seen the LZ for over half an hour, and he decided he’d better check in and see how that was running before another emergency kidnapped him.

The next one came up before he’d gone five steps.

“Sergeant Major, they’re at four klicks,” Tsao passed.

It took Rev a moment to put that into context, then he said, “Shit!” motioned to Hvarser and Tiwari, and started running to the barrier.

Tsao, Cocker, and Božič-Mizaki were standing together right at the edge of the barrier, staring down into the valley. Rev stopped alongside them.

He didn’t need his Optisight. His face shield’s magnification was good enough. The six giants were striding with what looked like purpose, heading in their direction. Surrounding them were fifty or sixty of the normal-sized buffalo. The smaller ones couldn’t keep up with their normal stride. They were continually breaking into short trots to maintain the speed.

Rev had a bad feeling about this. He didn’t know for sure where the giants were heading. Yes, they were still coming toward them, but they were on one of the main thoroughfares in the valley, and they could pass below them.

His dread might be from a slight sense of guilt. The overall disquiet among the animals could be from the weather, as most people seemed to think. But what if it was from something else? The attack on the compound had happened after he’d shot the buffalo. Could that have triggered anger somehow among the rest? Could that have labeled the humans as enemy?

It was a reach, and it would require an ability for them to communicate between themselves that had not yet been observed. And maybe that was a bit of the arrogance Bundy had accused him of having, as if he had the ability to create such a change in the planet’s fauna.

But as he watched, it almost looked like parents marching on a school after their kids were bullied, and the kids following to see the bullies get their just desserts.

“Miko, what’s the status of the barrier?” he asked over the P2P.

He could hear the exasperation in her voice at him interrupting her again. “I’m busy on the load out, Rev. You’ve got to ask Kelly.”

He switched over. “Where we at with the Lamix, Kel? Any change?”

“I don’t think so. We should still be at sixty-three percent.”

“Where are you now?”

“I’m with my team getting the pylons ready to drop.”

He was tempted to tell her to turn things over to Corporal Santiago and get herself over to the barrier with the rest of them. But one more IBHU wasn’t going to make much of a difference, and she was needed where she was. Once Bundy gave the final order and the power was cut, they had to get the barrier and the remaining personnel into the shuttles and off the planet’s surface as quickly as possible.

“Get back to the console and stand by until I say otherwise.”

He could sense a hundred questions in the ensuing pause, but she finally said, “I’m on it.”

“Some posse they have, na?” Tiwari said as he stared down the slope.

“Yeah, some posse.”

Rev watched them for a few more moments as he tried to anticipate their route.

“If they’re coming here, when will they arrive?” he asked Punch.

<Keeping their current pace and assuming they make the most direct approach, that would be approximately thirty-three minutes.>

If they hit Bundy’s original timeline, they’d be off the planet in fifty-two minutes. Rev turned around and looked across the compound. The CP was just coming down, but it would take close to twenty minutes for it to collapse on itself and be ready to load. And while much of the camp was already gone, there were still mount-out boxes and equipment scattered around. The armory was still standing.

It's not going to happen.

He pulled up Bundy on the P2P.

“What do you need, Sergeant Major?”

Still “Sergeant Major,” not “Rev,” he noted in passing.

“It’s about the giant buffalo—” Rev started before Bundy cut him off.

“I told you to forget about them!” he snapped. “We need to get off the planet, and we’ve got at least an hour and a half to go.”

Even he knows we’re not making his timeline.

“If you’re worried about them, then get us off, and they can’t bother us,” Bundy said.

“They’re closer now,” he said. “Much closer.”

There was a moment of silence, then a more guarded, “How close?”

<Four thousand, two hundred meters,> Punch prompted. <Thirty-one minutes.>

“They’re four thousand, two hundred meters. Punch calculates that if they are heading here, we’ve got thirty-one minutes. And with the sabotage to the Lamix . . .”

They didn’t know if it was sabotage, but it really didn’t matter. The barrier was compromised.

“Do you know they’re coming to the compound?”

“No, sir. But they’re still on track, and while I can’t give you a concrete answer, my gut tells me we’re their target.”

He inwardly winced. Bundy had accused him of thinking he was always right, and here he was, essentially telling him that again without firm evidence. It was up to him to trust Rev or not. Rev would be overjoyed if he was wrong, but the more he watched the buffalo, the more he felt that he was right.

As he watched, the two trailing giants broke out into their own trot as if trying to catch up with the others before . . . well, before what was the big question.

Rev left it at that. He’d said enough.

Now it was up to Bundy, and after a moment, he just said, “Fuck!” the second time he’d cursed in just the last few hours—which was a sign of the amount of stress the man was under.

Bundy cut the P2P and announced over the open net, “All hands. Cease tear-down and pack-out. I say again, cease work on the equipment tear-down. Priority is now personnel. Any remaining civilians are to get on the first transport off the planet no matter your ship. Then the military with security last. I want everyone off the surface in twenty-five minutes.”

It wasn’t a very specific command, and Rev knew that the leadership was going to have to scramble to get some sort of order in the evacuation. But Tomiko and the rest were going to have to do that.

With his IBHU, he knew where he needed to be.

* * *

“It doesn’t look like they’re going to pass us by,” Cocker said.

The eight giants—the trailing two had caught up with the others—had slowed down the final klick, and were now heading up the hill toward the compound. They weren’t looking aggressive at the moment, but their sheer size was awe-inspiring.

Behind Rev, another shuttle was lifting off the area to the south of the LZ. Bundy had designated that a secondary LZ so two shuttles could land and take off at the same time.

“Where are we at, Miko?” Rev asked.

“Six more civilians. I’ll have them on the next lift along with the first staff. Two platoons from Delta are in their sticks and ready to go. What about the buffalo?”

“Heading up the slope now. Keep pushing them. And the lemmings?”

“They won’t go until it’s their landing craft, the crazy bastards.”

Rev hadn’t even known there were still twenty-one Kanters on the planet. They’d come from the high ground to the south, circled the perimeter, and entered the gate twenty minutes ago.

Rev did a quick tally: six civilians, twenty-one Kanters, Delta Company’s 129 Marines, Colonel-Captain Sjekvic and his twenty MDS soldiers, fourteen Carabinieri, and seventy-two Exile Company Marines and soldiers. Depending on the craft, seven or eight shuttle or landing craft loads. The Marines all registered on his combat AI, but the rest of the numbers might not be accurate because Punch could only work on what data was being reported, and things had been hectic. Personnel accountability was just one more thing that had to be fixed before the next mission.

“Are they going to attack, do you think?” Tomiko asked.

“I can’t tell.”

“OK, let me keep pushing people into the lifts.”

He turned his attention back to the big buffalo approaching.

“The Wahoo could clear the valley easily enough,” Cocker said. “Why are we facing them?”

“Njuguna won’t allow it,” Rev told her.

“But the colonel’s in charge of security, right?”

“I think he’ll wait and see what happens before he overrules her. The barrier held before, after all.”

Rev had considered orbital support, too. There were more regulations about virgin planets than he could ever hope to absorb, but he knew about the ones protecting native life. But if it came down to it, he’d sacrifice one small valley on a big planet to save his people. He hoped that the Wahoo, Loup-Garou, or Strike Eagle were up there with their guns already targeting the valley.

The giant buffalo stopped 130 meters downslope. This close, their size was overwhelming. Their horns alone were nine meters long.

“Has anything in Earth’s history ever been this big?” he asked Punch.

<There’s no land-dwelling animal this large in the fossil record,>

Rev felt small as the eight beasts stared into the compound. Around and behind them, more agitated normal-sized buffalo milled about, with some of them lifting their heads and trumpeting.

One of the eight detached itself from the rest and started climbing up the slope. For a moment, Rev had visions of a Naxli commander approaching to offer gnista.

Who’s gonna face one of those things one on one?

But the huge animal didn’t seem to even notice the humans. It stopped just shy of the barrier and seemed to be examining the shimmering waves that spanned the pylons.

It tentatively lowered its massive head slightly and stretched out its neck.

“It knows what the barrier can do. The others had to have told it somehow.”

<That would be the logical assumption.>

“But how? We haven’t seen any sort of advanced language.”

Once again, he wondered if the one he’d shot had somehow instigated all of this. Somehow, it might have gotten the others to seek revenge.

<We do not know how or if they communicate as we think of the process.>

The buffalo reached out, and as the left horn tip touched the edge of the barrier, sparks shot out to cascade to the ground, and the buffalo jerked back.

It wasn’t stunned like the three smaller ones had been when they crashed into the barrier. Maybe the horn didn’t transmit the field. But it had sure caught its attention.

It roared, a deep, soul-crushing wave that swept over the gathered humans. The buffalo shook its head and stomped its front legs. The ground shook.

Down the slope, the smaller buffalo trumpeted and roared, but in comparison, they sounded like children.

“Stand steady!” Major White Eagle passed as he shifted left to face the animal, which had started backing down the hill.

For the moment, at least, it seemed to be retreating

“Kel, how’s the barrier holding?” he asked over the P2P.

“Steady. There was barely a flicker. What happened?”

From her position at the console, Kelly couldn’t see this section of the barrier.

“One of the giants touched the barrier with its horn, like it was testing it.”

“Maybe it learned its lesson and’ll leave us alone.”

“I hope so. These suckers are big, Kel. Huge.”

Rev looked around for Bundy. The CO was ignoring Rev, keeping abreast of what was happening through White Eagle, and Rev didn’t know where he was inside the compound.

Another landing craft, this one from the Wahoo, came in for a landing. Two of the giant buffalo raised their heads, each with four eyes the size of saucers locked on it.

Rev felt as if a timebomb was ticking, as if there was a short pause before all hell would break loose.

“Get that thing loaded quickly, Miko,” he whispered.

As if answering him, the previous shuttle shot for the sky, hopefully with a full passenger load.

Rev focused back on the buffalo, then checked his IBHU again. Nothing had changed except for a tiny drop in power, but doing that raised a question.

“What do you think about the Moray?” Rev asked Punch. “Would it be effective?”

The missile hadn’t been in their original combat load, but a single case had been brought to the planet, and after the first attack on the compound, Major White Eagle had ordered them distributed. Not every IBHU received one, but Rev was one of those who had.

Morays were designed for armor and hardened targets, and it was not particularly cost-effective against soft targets. There was an antipersonnel setting, but he didn’t think the shrapnel would do much against the giants.

<The Moray can destroy any armored vehicle known to humanity. It has more than enough power to damage a significant amount of organic material. Whether it will stop an animal of this size would depend on its physiology and how the power of the warhead is distributed within the body.>

Which was a whole lot of nothing. Rev was hoping for something more affirmative, but he should have expected what he got. He’d already decided that if push came to shove, and they had to defend the compound, then he’d use the missile if the shot presented itself.

With a nod to trying to limit the wholesale slaughter of the native fauna, he considered the sleeper . . . for about two seconds. It had taken two shots to drop the buffalo he’d put to sleep, and the big beasts facing him were three times the size.

If they managed to get past the barrier and were a threat to his people, he’d be using lethal force. It wasn’t even a question.

Behind him, the evacuation was going at breakneck speed. Hopefully, the buffalo would let them leave, and as far as Rev was concerned, they could have their planet back, Goldilocks or not.

Right then, two of the giant buffalo started to charge, and every IBHU raised their weapons, ready to engage if the beasts broke through. But they stopped about twenty meters up the hill, then backed down again, tossing their heads with each step.

“It’s a mock charge,” White Eagle passed. “Stand down.”

The mock charge hadn’t just raised everyone’s heart rate. Forty or fifty of the normal-sized buffalo had jerked into motion as if to join the rush. Several of them stood and stomped their front legs on the ground for half a minute after the two giants had returned to their position.

In the background, behind both kinds of buffalo, vast numbers of pronghorns and billyboys were gathering, their attention on the compound.

Spectators? Or maybe scavengers hoping to mop up after the big boys do their thing?

It was part of a Marine SNCO’s DNA to consider all potential threats, but that was about all the thought he was going to give the smaller animals. He knew where the real threat was, and from the looks of it, they were getting more agitated.

The giants were pawing at the ground, each kick tearing swaths of the ground cover. Their small ears were pinned back against their skulls. Rev had a quick flashback to his secondary school days when he was playing flip ball, and they’d tried to psych each other up for the big game.

“This isn’t another bluff! They’re coming for real,” Rev passed on the open net.

“Hold your fire,” Bundy passed. “We don’t know that.”

Rev spun around to spot the commanding officer, but he still wasn’t in view. He had to be running the evacuation but monitoring what was going on at the barrier.

Rev wasn’t advocating opening fire, though. He was just giving the others a warning.

The biggest of the buffalo, the one that had touched the barrier with its horn, slammed the side of its head into the nearest buffalo, staggering it a few steps. Then, with a roar, it charged, immediately followed by the others.

“Get ready!” Rev shouted, which was almost immediately followed by Major White Eagle shouting, “On me!”

Rev ignored his beamer, choosing his twenty. He held his ground as the major raised his IBHU as Homer stepped up to his side.

The lead buffalo thundered up the hill, the ground trembling under its tread. Vapor rose from its sides as it ran. It took only ten seconds for the beast to cover the distance, and it smashed into the barrier in a shower of sparks and bolts. The buffalo was knocked back and off its feet, and for the humans inside, it was as if the compound was surrounded by a blinding flash of circular lighting.

And just like that, their barrier was gone. Kelly shouted out a warning, but Rev was already targeting the second buffalo, which just missed stumbling over the downed one as it locked on Major White Eagle.

Rev fired his cannon, and he could see the big rounds impact on its right shoulder. It may have stumbled slightly, but it had lots of momentum behind it.

Major White Eagle fired his beamer, splashing giga-joules across the buffalo’s face. He stood tall right up until the huge beast crashed into him and Homer. The junior Marine was thrown into the air, but the major was driven into the ground.

The maddened beast pounded the major with its forelegs, crushing his PAL. Rev increased the fire, concentrating his twenty on the burned mass of what had been the thing’s face while the other IBHUs joined him. After seven or eight seconds, one of the rounds must have hit something vital, and the beast collapsed on top of what was left of White Eagle.

The other giants burst into the compound, and behind them, dozens of the smaller ones were following. Several Marines were tossed, and one of the IBHUs was impaled on a horn. The buffalo didn’t seem bothered by the 950 kgs of a Marine in a PAL as it continued its attack.

A buffalo fell, still alive and bellowing in anger but unable to get back to its feet.

Without the barrier, the humans were too dispersed to be able to concentrate their fires. With the major down, Rev had to take over.

“Pull back,” he shouted into the confusion.

Two of his karnans ignored the order. They rushed forward, shoulder to shoulder, as they fired their BIPACs. Not even those heavy weapons were enough. One of the buffalo—Rev thought it was the same one that had taken out the barrier—charged the two. They collided in a contest of giants. The buffalo won.

“Pull back to the LZ. We need to consolidate!” he ordered.

The smaller—and smaller was relative only to the giants—buffalo had reached the compound and were pouring in. Four of the giants were down, which left four more. But training kicked in, and his Marines, the Carabinieri, and the karnans were starting to move back in due order, using their mutually supporting fires as cover. More of them fell, but the initial shock was fading, and order was restored.

“White Eagle’s KIA,” he reported to Bundy. “I’m taking over, and we’re heading to the LZ.”

“Roger that. I’m getting the last of us there as well.”

The Marines were bunching up, which would make them vulnerable to an armed enemy, but it might be the only way to hold off the mass of muscle facing them. The IBHUs and karnans were dropping the smaller buffalo right and left, but still, their numbers were overwhelming, and humans were being caught and killed. And there were still three of the giants. Rev thought there should be one more—he couldn’t spot it, though. He wanted to use his Moray, but the animals were too close to him. The missile’s warhead wouldn’t arm.

“Sergeant Major!” Tiwari shouted.

Rev turned to see the Dalit Marine emptying his M-51 at one of the smaller buffalo that had slipped past Rev’s line of sight to rush him. The smaller darts were stitching the animal, but without much effect.

Rev spun around and put three twenty-millimeter rounds into the buffalo’s head. It dropped without a sound, the body sliding to a stop, the head just touching his sabatons.

<That was cutting it a little close.>

Tiwari’s eyes were big. Without his warning, Rev might have been hit, but his M-51 had been next to useless. As would everyone else’s.

“All infantry, break contact and get to the LZ. If you have a fifty-one, get to the LZ.”

Then on the P2P, he passed, “Strap. Set up a defensive line around the LZ. We’ve got to hold these things back for the shuttles.”

“Roger that. I’m on it.”

Straight-leg infantry started to pull back quicker, while the more heavily armed hyper-augments tried to hold back the onslaught.

Hvarser and Tiwari didn’t move, and Rev had to give them a direct order to pull back.

If the buffalo had made a concerted charge against the hyper-augments, they could have overwhelmed them. But they were spreading out through the compound, attacking anything in their way, living or inorganic. The dismantled CP was a magnet for them, which was fine with Rev. They had more on the ships.

They moved back, and as they reached where the armory had been, they had a clear view down to the LZ. Rev took a moment to see what was going on there, only to see the Wahoo Marines were charging forward in support. Rev caught a quick glimpse of Captain Paulliac before twenty of the smaller buffalo who had bypassed the hyper-augments smashed into them.

“Pull back to the LZ, Captain,” Rev passed, but they were already engaged.

“Every other Marine, support Delta Company,” Rev ordered.

The buffalo and Wahoo Marines were interspaced with each other, so supporting them was difficult. With the IBHU and karnans’ more powerful weapons, though, the buffalo were dropped. A lot fewer Marines were left standing in the end, and Rev had to order them to retreat.

One of the Wahoo’s landing craft started to take off when seemingly out of nowhere, one of the giants appeared, charging it. Rev acted automatically, firing his Moray. The landing craft was about five meters high and turning when the buffalo hit it with one of its horns, sending the rear of the craft spinning. An instant later, the missile hit the back of the beast, and its entire right rear leg disappeared in a bright explosion of red.

The buffalo fell, bellowing as it tried to regain its feet and continue with the attack. Rev fired a burst from his twenty while Randigold and Cocker joined in—Cocker with her beamer. The buffalo shuddered under the impact, then collapsed, while the landing craft continued to spin while the AI or pilot tried to save it. The prow brushed the ground before it was brought under control, and it was able to regain altitude.

As it climbed, Rev put it out of his mind. There were still Marines and soldiers on the ground among the rampaging buffalo.

Avatars on Rev’s face shield were turning red at an alarming clip, but Rev couldn’t take the time to see who was falling as he fired a burst at ten of the smaller buffalo that had just bowled over what looked like a squad of MDS infantry. He thought he might have dropped three of them before they ran behind the armory and out of his view.

Two Carabinieri charged one of the giants, firing their SITES twenty-millimeter at its head, which certainly caught its attention. Rev stepped to the side to be able to take the giant under fire and not hit the soldiers when ten meters away, they suddenly split, darting to either side of it. The buffalo seemed confused, swinging first at one, then at the other without fully committing.

And that was its downfall. Past the heavily protected head, the two Bugatti soldiers poured fire into the buffalo’s neck until it fell first to its knees, then over on its side.

Rev spun around, looking for another target, hopefully a giant. But he couldn’t see any. Not many of the normal ones, either. Three were hooking the bundles of the disassembled CP, throwing them into the air. As he watched, two were taken down, and then a moment later, the third went down, a horn still lodged under a strap.

Without a target, Rev checked his battle display. His IBHUs and infantry Marines were scattered, and he didn’t have a grasp on his karnans and Carabinieri. This wasn’t military fighting. This was a brawl.

“Fall back on the LZ,” he passed on the security team’s net. Then on the P2P, “Miko, Tum, start grabbing people. This is a friggin’ mess here.”

“Roger that,” Miko said as the three started rounding people up and trying to put some order into things.

But barely a minute later, Bundy came over the open net. “Cease fire, cease fire. All hands, consolidate on the CP.”

The Battle of the Buffalo was over.

23

Bundy called Rev, Tomiko, and Captain Paulliac together for a meeting. Colonel-Captain Sjekvic, along with eighteen of the twenty MDS soldiers, had been killed during the fighting. And with Major White Eagle and Lieutenant Rosa dead, the four of them made up the leadership cell of those still on the planet’s surface.

“Are they coming to get us?” Paulliac asked.

“There won’t be any more shuttles until the situation is secure,” Bundy said. “They can’t risk them.”

“What about the Wahoo’s guns?” Rev asked. “Or the Strike Eagle’s?”

With their commanding officer killed, Rev knew that the MDS force would be eager to scour the valley clear of life.

“Bane’s trying to get permission, but he doesn’t think Titan will go along with that.”

“So, we can kill them with our guns, but not from orbit? What the hell’s the difference?” Tomiko said.

“We’re not supposed to be killing them. We’re supposed to be using non-lethal means.”

Rev looked at Bundy, dumbfounded. “Non-lethal means? Are you kidding me?”

Bundy shook his head. “I’m choosing to ignore that restriction.”

There was a burst of twenty fire, and Rev spun around. Božič-Mizaki and Cavallo had just opened up on three of the buffalo, dropping two and making the third retreat.

“They’re coming, you know,” Rev said. “As soon as they get up their nerve.”

“Or as soon as more of the big boys arrive,” Tomiko added.

This time, Bundy didn’t say they didn’t know that. They could see the movement toward the wrecked compound, and as soon as they had a buffalo critical mass, things would detonate.

“Without the barrier, this place isn’t very defensible,” Paulliac said.

She was in her long johns, a little battered, but alive. When she’d led her two platoons still on the planet to head off the normal buffalo and keep them from the LZ, she’d taken a few hard knocks when they’d clashed. Her PAL was down and combat deadlined. Eleven of her Marines had been killed, and five more were in the same boat that she was in without their combat suits.

She hadn’t seen the giant that Rev had taken out, but her quick thinking might have saved the landing craft from being stampeded by the others. Three of her platoons had made it off the planet and should be back on the Wahoo by now.

“I agree,” Bundy said. “We need to move, but the high ground here doesn’t seem to be much of a barrier to them.”

The compound was on a shelf halfway up the slope. Buffalo, pronghorns, and other animals were crossing the line of hills and making their way into the valley.

“Not on the other side,” Tomiko said. “Strap said those hills are far more defensible.”

Bundy took a moment to look to the far hills, the closest being some eight klicks away. “That’s a long way to get through several thousand buffalo. We need something closer.”

“The buffalo don’t move much at night,” the captain said.

Bundy considered that for a moment, then said, “That’s still a long way. Too risky.”

“Should I go ahead and say it?” he asked Punch.

<No reason why not. Let Lieutenant Colonel Bundy decide.>

“I might have a location,” Rev told the other three Marines.

He and Punch had discussed this, and neither one of them could say with any certainty that it was a viable option. But as Punch said, he could throw out his idea and let Bundy decide. He was the commanding officer, after all.

All three looked at him, waiting to hear what he had to say.

“When I took out the civilians yesterday, where I put the buffalo to sleep . . .”

He hadn’t told anyone that he suspected that the assault on the compound was a direct result of him shooting that buffalo. It seemed a little far-fetched, but his gut told him it was true.

“. . . there were three groups of trees there. That’s what the civvies wanted to study. But the buffalo, they gave the trees a wide berth when they passed between them. They acted like the trees were dangerous, and they were nervous.”

“Nervous,” Bundy said.

“Yes. They were antsy, and they kept looking at the trees.”

“And you know what a nervous buffalo looks like?” Bundy asked. “As opposed to one maybe just pissed off that you’re there?”

Rev shrugged. “I know it sounds weird, but that’s what I felt.”

“Did you have a chance to search the trees?” Tomiko asked. “Maybe there was some sort of predator there?”

“Not that we could see. And the trees weren’t thick enough for anything much bigger than a goat to hide in.”

“What are you suggesting, Sergeant Major?” Bundy asked.

Still “Sergeant Major?”

Rev pushed that thought away. “If we can get to the trees, and if the buffalo really are avoiding them, then maybe they’ll steer clear of us. And even if they don’t, when I said the trees are not that densely packed together, they are more than dense enough to make it difficult for the buffalo. They can’t just stampede through.”

“Even the big boys?” Tomiko asked.

Rev gave a little grimace. “Maybe not the giants. But the regular buffalo, I don’t think they can just blast through them.”

“How far away is this from here?”

“Just under two klicks to the northwest,” Rev said, pointing in the direction.

“I don’t know, Sergeant Major. You saw what they did to the barrier. And you think they’ll balk at some trees?”

“I don’t think anything, Colonel. I’m just offering it as an option.”

How’s that for not thinking I know everything?

“OK, it’s an option. But let’s come up with something better. It’ll be dark in about two hours, and as you said, Captain, the buffalo are less active at night. So, what else do we have?”

24

“Move out,” Bundy passed to Rev.

Rev signaled Randigold, who was on point, and she stepped off. With their augmented night vision and their PALs, it might as well have been high noon. They could see the massed fauna as they quietly milled about in tight pods, heads facing outboard.

The xenobiologists had postulated that this practice was a survival trait to protect them from predators. But what predators? Aside from the weird, plantlike things and predatory bugs (not the scientific term), there was no sign of any. Certainly, none that could prey on a buffalo.

Unless there’s something in the trees.

In the end, that’s where they were heading, just as Rev had suggested. No one had come up with a better course of action, and after twice beating back small attacks in the two hours before the sun set, Bundy knew they couldn’t remain where they were.

Seventy-seven living humans and twenty-one Kanters silently made their way down the slope, trying to maintain their distance from any of the pods of buffalo. Eight of the humans were badly injured and needed assistance, and four bodies were carried as well.

Time was against the dead. Their bodies weren’t extensively damaged, and they could possibly be resurrected by the Galaxy Explorer’s medical team, but only if they could be gotten to the ship within the next few hours. Bundy had requested CASEVAC, which was still being considered, so they were carrying the dead in hopes the request would be granted.

The humans were in a modified column of twos with IBHU Marines, karnans, and Carabieneri interspaced along the length while Wahoo Marines, along with Corporal Homer, who’d lost his IBHU—destroyed by the giant buffalo that had thrown him, were carrying the wounded and dead.

Their goal was to reach the three groves of trees without provoking the buffalo, then intersperse among them while forming defensive lines. Hopefully, the buffalo would avoid the trees. If they didn’t, a strong defensive position might be able to mow down the creatures as they had to slow through the trunks.

The only problem was that the IBHUs and karnans were low on ammunition. Rev was down to 146 twenty-millimeter rounds. After that, it would be beamers, and a forest wasn’t the best terrain for their use.

“You’re getting a little close, Eth. Shift left,” Rev passed on the P2P.

She’d led them to within thirty meters of a pod of buffalo. Several were watching the humans pass by as they shifted their feet, but they didn’t seem inclined to leave their positions.

“The ground is trickier there,” Randigold said. “The Marines carrying the wounded might have a harder time.”

“They’ll have to manage. We don’t want to provoke the buffs.”

“Roger that,” she said as she adjusted her course.

She was right about the footing, though. The thick green ground cover secreted some sort of gooey substance at night that covered the scales. Marines were slipping on the slick coating. Many would have fallen if not for their PALs’ gyros.

Rev took a moment to look back. The column had spread out a bit, which was normal. Tomiko was with the Tail End Charlie team, some 150 meters back. On the one hand, that was too dispersed for Rev’s liking. On the other hand, maybe it was a good thing. They could look like less of a threat than had it been a tighter formation.

Let’s just hope the buffalo let us pass.

A squawking explosion burst from the ground, making Božič-Mizaki stumble back and Rev’s heart jump.

The buffalo in the nearest pod startled, and one let out a low rumble. They shifted back and forth a few times before they settled down.

“What happened, BM?” Rev asked over the P2P.

“I didn’t see the bastard,” the corporal answered. “I almost stepped on the damn thing.”

“Just keep your eyes open. That almost woke up the buffs.”

Rev kept a wary eye on the buffalo, but they stayed put as the column passed. At the halfway point, Rev started to think that they might make it to the trees unscathed.

Those damn gods of war!

A herd of pronghorn blocked their way about four hundred meters from the nearest of the three groves. There had to be two hundred of them huddled together. To the left was a mid-sized lake and more animals on the other side, and to the right was another pod of buffalo. Less than twenty meters separated the buffalo from the pronghorns.

Rev brought the column to a halt.

“We’ve got an issue here,” he passed back to Bundy. “Pronghorns are blocking our path.”

“Can you adjust around them?”

“I can’t tell if we can go to the left. We’d have to backtrack to get around the lake, and there’s a bunch of buffs to the right with only a twenty-meter path between them.”

“What are the pronghorns doing?”

“Sleeping, it looks like. They’re packed pretty close together.”

“I want to limit the time we’re exposed out here. I think going around the lake would take too long. Do you think we can scoot through the path? Twenty meters wide, you said?”

“We can collapse the column and make it through, but I’m not sure about the buffs. That’s cutting it really close to them.”

He looked ahead to where he could just see the first of the thickets. The ground beyond the pronghorns and buffalo was mostly empty of animal life. If they could just get past this bottleneck, it should be clear sailing.

“But if we can sneak past these buffs, I think we’re home free.”

“We’re running out of time,” Bundy said.

To the planetary west, the first rosy fingers of dawn rose on this reverse-rotating planet. The days and nights were shorter here than Earth-normal, and with the axial tilt, the night was particularly brief.

Rev wished they’d gotten moving sooner, but it was what it was. This was the situation they had to deal with.

He waited for Bundy. If it were up to him, he’d go for it. So far, the buffalo hadn’t broken from their pods. And they were close. Rev would much rather be ensconced inside the cover of the trees while it was still dark. Maybe the buffalo wouldn’t even notice them.

“Let’s go for it. If we’re caught out in the open after sunrise, it could be bad.”

Bundy switched to the open net. “The lead element is about four hundred meters from our objective, but we’ve got a little problem. We’re going to have to pass a pod of buffs at close range. They’re asleep, so it should be OK, but we’re on silent mode. I don’t want any noise. Take a moment to check your gear for rattles or anything else. We’ll be moving out in a few minutes.”

“Do I go down the middle?” Randigold asked Rev.

“Maybe edge toward the pronghorns just a hair, Eth. We really don’t want to wake the buffs up.”

“Roger that.”

Rev gave his combat suit a quick check. A PAL was not completely silent, but it was mostly self-contained, so there wasn’t much to rattle. Not so with the karnans. With their various pieces of gear, they had to make sure everything was secured.

Bundy gave them two minutes before he told Rev to move out.

With Randigold on point, the lead element carefully moved forward, their attention riveted on the buffalo. If they could have tiptoed in a PAL, Rev thought they would have.

One of the buffalo shifted its position as they approached, but other than that, they were quiet. It looked good. The pronghorn were a little more restless, but as they had never shown any degree of aggressiveness, Rev wasn’t as concerned with them.

He should have been.

A lone pronghorn lifted its head and gave a soft bleat. Immediately, a dozen more lifted their heads.

“Freeze!” Rev passed on the open net.

Several more bleated, which woke up more of the others. And then one broke, bounding right across Randigold’s path. That opened the floodgates. Pronghorn started fleeing in all directions—including straight at the buffalo.

It took a moment for the bigger animals to rouse, but within moments, those nearest oriented on the humans and pawed at the ground. One gave a short mock charge, then lifted its head and roared.

If there was any hope of sliding by unnoticed, the roar was the end of that.

“Peppermint! Peppermint, right!” Rev passed on the net.

Immediately, the IBHU Marines, karnans, and Carabinieri shifted to the right along the column, putting themselves between the buffalo and the rest of the humans, who increased the pace.

“Hold your fire unless they charge,’ Rev ordered. “And not a mock charge.”

Bundy was with the second element, and he sprinted forward to get a better handle on what was going on.

The pronghorn were scattering to the wind, and the buffalo were becoming more agitated. Some of the nearest started edging forward. They might not be the giants, but at eight or nine meters away, they looked plenty big enough. And if they charged, there wasn’t much distance for them to cover.

Bundy arrived beside Rev. He didn’t waste time.

“Keep them off of us,” he said before turning his attention to the others.

That’s my job.

“Steady,” he passed over the security element net. “Don’t provoke them, but be ready. We can’t let them reach our people.”

He was aware of the increased urgency behind him as people picked up the pace, all in relative silence. But his attention was locked on the buffalo, watching for the slightest sign that they were going to break and come at them.

Captain Paulliac was everywhere, urging her Marines forward. The Kanters wove in and out of the Marines, never quite getting stepped on. Five, ten, twenty of the Marines made it past the buffalo while behind the wall of hyper-augments.

And then the dam broke. With a roar, two of the buffalo charged. Rev and the others opened up, dropping the lead buffalo before it got two steps. The second made it a step farther, but then the rest charged.

“Double time!” Captain Paulliac shouted as the hyper-augments engaged.

They hadn’t been able to designate individual targets. Some of the buffalo were hit from multiple sides, but a few escaped immediate fire. A buffalo slammed into one of the Carabinieri, lifting him on a single horn and tossing the unfortunate soldier twenty meters, where he slid to a stop and lay still.

Two of the Kanters broke from the retreat and swarmed the buffalo’s head, making it stop and try to shake them off, which gave Tsao time to burn a hole into the thing’s neck.

As suddenly as it started, it was over. The stray pronghorn bounded about without purpose, but all thirteen buffalo were down with only the single Carabiniere casualty.

“Stay in your position,” Rev passed on the security net. “Wait until everyone is past us.”

Rev waited, then as the last ones reached him, he directed the hyper-augments to keep pace with them. With the wounded, it was still going to take time to get everyone into the trees.

Time they weren’t going to get.

“Sergeant Major, we’ve got company coming from two o’clock,” Tsao passed.

Rev looked but couldn’t see anything, so he ran a few steps forward and saw two groups of buffalo approaching at a swift walk from two hundred meters away. One of the groups broke into a trot.

“You’ve got to get everyone moving,” he told Bundy over the P2P. “Another sixty buffs are on their way.”

This time, Bundy didn’t question Rev.

“Double time!” he passed on the open net.

“Peppermint right,” Rev ordered once more. “But keep it moving.”

Like a well-oiled machine, the security element shifted again, forming a defensive arc, but one that kept adjusting to keep the fleeing people covered.

“Hold your fire until my command,” he said, then switched to Punch.

“Are they going to intercept us?”

He knew the answer, but he wanted Punch’s confirmation.

<At this pace, they’ll hit us as the lead Marines reach the first grove.>

“Well, we’ll just have to slow them down, now, won’t we?”

He switched back to the security net. “Controlled fire. We’re not trying to wipe them out but slow them down. So, focus on the lead buffs. Knock them down to slow the ones behind them.”

Rev fired a burst from his twenty, dropping the leading buffalo. An instant later, he was joined by the other IBHUs, karnans with their BIPACs, and Carabinieri with their twenties.

It was like watching a historical holovid about the British Wars of the Eighteenth Century. The leading rank was dropped, and the following rank stepped forward. But the speed of the charge was blunted as the buffalo stumbled over the bodies of the dead.

Then they were hit, and the buffalo behind them had to deal with more bodies and wounded brethren. But still, they came, now at a full charge.

Rev kept shifting his element toward the trees—it had become a running battle, which opened up more clear space over which the buffalo could rush them.

Another group of nineteen buffalo splashed into the far shore of the lake and started swimming toward them. Rev barely gave them a glance. The humans would be inside the trees by the time they reached the near shore, or it wouldn’t matter.

His round count was rapidly depleting, and he switched to his beamer on guillotine mode, slashing the beam across the legs of a buffalo in full charge. The left leg collapsed. Or maybe it had been severed. It didn’t matter. The animal was down and thrashing around. In its agony, it kicked another with a hind leg, knocking that one off stride.

“IBHUs, beamers across the legs!” he passed.

He switched back to fire a couple more twenty rounds while his beamer recharged, and more buffalo started going down. But even more were coming. They couldn’t keep this up for much longer before they’d be overwhelmed.

And then, he heard what he was waiting for.

“We’re inside the trees,” Bundy passed to Rev. “Get your people inside.”

“That’s it!” Break contact and haul ass!” Rev told the security element.

He fired another kneecapping bolt from his beamer. His target screamed in anger and staggered, but the beam cut off before it took down the beast.

He wasn’t going to wait for Pashu to recharge. He switched back to his twenty and gave it another two-round burst and then turned and ran, joining the rest of the hyper-augments as they rushed for the trees.

Wahoo Marines were pouring back out of the trees and setting up a defensive line with Captain Paulliac leading them. Their M-51s would be merely gadflies to the buffalo, but they might capture the animals’ attention.

“How many buffs are left?” he asked Punch.

<Twenty-seven are within range to be a potential threat.>

Crap!

“Run your asses off!” Rev told his people.

One of the Wahoo Marines fired an M-103. Rev hadn’t known there were any of the grenades on the planet. Someone must have smuggled one down, which was against every sort of rule, but Rev wasn’t going to complain.

The grenade arced over the ground, hitting one of the buffalo square on the forehead. The blast was spectacular, and the buffalo’s front legs collapsed. One horn was gone, but the beast was still breathing. It struggled back up to its feet and staggered to the side, alive but probably out of the fight.

The first of the hyper-augments reached the tree line. They turned and started engaging the charging animals.

The closer they got to the trees, the slower the buffalo moved. Some shifted their advance to the side. And the pulsating anger that had seemed to be driving them to crush the impudent humans was fading, to be replaced with what looked like nervousness.

Is this actually working? Are they actually afraid of the trees?

Rev had been working from his gut, and it seemed to be paying off. He didn’t know if they really were reluctant, or even if they were, if it would hold. But for the moment, at least, it looked as if they were getting a reprieve.

“If they’re slowing down, don’t engage them,” Rev told the security element. “All hands, pull back into the trees.”

He had no desire to kill animals, and he was more than willing to encourage the more hesitant buffalo to pull back. There was no use in keeping up the pressure and maintaining their anger level.

Not all of them were slowing down, though. A lone buffalo kept advancing toward the retreating Marines. Captain Paulliac rushed forward and fired her MF-30, almost point-blank at the buffalo’s eyes. The buffalo gave its head a twist, barely hitting the Marine officer. Without her PAL, it was enough. The broken body cartwheeled through the air to land in a broken heap.

There was a combined roar of anger as the Wahoo Marines reversed course as if to charge the animal.

Bundy beat Rev to the punch. “Marines, pull back. Now!”

Rev and Tomiko fired their twenties at the buffalo, which collapsed onto the ground, its legs trembling.

The target of their anger gone, First Sergeant Mann was able to regain control. Two Marines rushed forward, almost under the noses of the milling buffalo, and grabbed their fallen commander, and they all pulled back.

The IBHUs held their fire and waited until the last Marine was inside the trees before they turned and joined them.

* * *

“So, what the hell is keeping them out?” Tomiko asked Rev.

A detailed search inside the thicket hadn’t revealed any obvious answer. But it was just as obvious that something was keeping the buffalo out.

“I wish I knew.”

The IBHUs were arrayed just inside the tree line. Over the last seven hours, hundreds of buffalo had gathered around the grove. Aside from the occasional roar, they were generally silent. But they were laser-focused on the humans in their midst.

Every few minutes, a buffalo would make a mock charge. But they didn’t get closer than nine or ten meters. Only one went farther, and Cocker gave it a blast with her sleeper, and it quickly retreated.

“Then the big question is if they are going to stay out there.”

“We’re gonna have a hard time if they do come in. We’re way low on ammo.”

“So, we use beamers,” Tomiko said.

“Which aren’t as effective as the twenties, especially if they come en masse.”

“Who always says that it isn’t the weapon but the Marine behind it?”

“When we’re facing these things, I’m kinda pushing for the weapon, Miko.”

She shrugged, then asked, “Any word on orbital support?” Then she scowled and said, “Of course not. You’d have told me.”

The situation was tailor-made for orbital support. With all the friendlies—and targets—concentrated in one spot, the Wahoo, or any of the other combatants, could scour the area of buffalo while leaving the humans untouched.

If they were allowed to.

Rev and the others had killed buffalo. Lots of them. And while he took no joy in doing so, when it was between buffalo and his Marines, his Marines would always win. But according to Bundy, Titan was worried that a massive slaughter of native life wouldn’t play well on New Mars or Titan.

“Well, I’m gonna get some chow. You got this?”

“You stand relieved.”

Rev gave her a pat on the arm and retreated deeper into the thicket. She’d have the duty for four hours. He’d probably relieve her before then, but it would be a blessing to just stand down for a bit of time.

He needed to check with Bundy first, though. With a quick twist, he released his helmet and took it off as he headed to the CP. Somewhat fresh air wafted across his face. It was a little dank, to be honest, smelling slightly of decay, but he was glad to have the helmet off.

Bundy was in his CP, which was nothing more than a piece of cleared ground between three of the tallest trees in the thicket. Rev could see him talking through his face shield, and Bundy gave him the wait sign.

Rev took the moment to just look around. There were seventy-six of the trees within the thicket, stretching forty-one meters along the longest axis and twenty-nine along the other. The undergrowth was sparse, with only the low-hanging, vine-like branches partially blocking the line of sight.

The Wahoo Marines were sitting in groups, either chatting or eating their combat rats. With Captain Paulliac KIA, Lieutenant Enid had taken over the company and was sitting with the first sergeant.

Maybe they hadn’t envisioned the circumstances, but they’d got what they’d wanted.

Do her justice, Lieutenant.

The Kanters were subdued, at least for them. They were in one of their dogpiles, a mass of bodies that seemed to slowly shift from inside out in some sort of Brownian motion.

Half of the hyper-augments, the ones who’d just come off of the perimeter, were settling in. Rev had told them to try and get some sleep, but adrenaline was running high, and it was still broad daylight. Still, just being able to relax was going to do all of them a world of good.

“What do you have, Sergeant Major?” Bundy asked.

“Just checking in. Was that about fire support?”

Bundy frowned and said, “We’re not in immediate danger.”

“We were this morning, and they didn’t help.”

“Speaking of this morning, Titan’s pissed we killed so many of them. They want to know why we didn’t use non-lethal force.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“I shit you not.”

“Why are the comms up now? If that’s what they’re gonna pass, I’d just as soon be cut off again. Since they don’t want us hurting the sweet native life, are they coming down to get us?”

Bundy shook his head. “Not with all the buffalo here. Too dangerous, they say. They can’t risk the landing craft.”

Rev had expected that. Neither Captain Bane nor Dr. Njuguna seemed the type to put anyone at risk, even to evacuate them.

“We’re on the ground. You’re the commander,” Rev said.

“And up there, where the landing craft and shuttles are, Bane’s the commander.”

“Ah, screw it,” Rev said, kicking his toe at the ground. “Maybe the buffs will get bored and wander off.”

“And maybe they’ll start farting rainbows as they go.” He changed the subject, “Well, you get off your feet for a bit. Grab a delicious combat rat and relax.”

“Have you relaxed, sir?” Rev asked.

“I will, I will.”

“Look, not much is happening, and if the buffs decide to join the party, we’ll have a warning. You need a little downtime, too.”

“I promise. I will. I’ve just got a few more things to do first.”

Before Rev could respond, Strap appeared. “Colonel, you might want to see this.”

“What is it, Staff Sergeant?”

“It’s . . . well, bones, we think. But you’ll want to see them.”

Bundy caught Rev’s eye, then he sighed and said, “Lead on.”

Strap led them along the longer axis about twenty meters, where several of the Marines were standing around something.

“Leek spotted it,” Strap said.

Rev saw a bit of grey under the detritus. At first, he thought it was a piece of machinery or something, which would have had pretty big ramifications. But it had the feel of something organic.

“Have you uncovered it?” Bundy asked.

“Partially, but then I wanted to get you,” Strap said.

“Pull more of those leaves away.”

The Marines hurried to comply, revealing what looked to be grey, twisted vines that had invaded a garden lattice. But with one kick by Homer, it was obvious what it was.

“That’s a buff skull,” he said.

The structure was quite different from an Earth-based skeleton, but there was no doubt that the strange thing was the buffalo equivalent. The skull was missing a horn, which might be buried nearby, and some of the structure was missing. A few of the “bones” were broken.

“What do you think did that?” Rev asked, dumbfounded. “One of the giants?”

There wasn’t a consensus on the relationship between the giants and the smaller buffalo. They were quite similar, but they might not be the same species. Rev only asked that as the giants were the only thing that they’d seen that were big enough to do that kind of damage to a buffalo.

“I don’t know about a giant,” Bundy said. “A predator, certainly. One we haven’t seen.”

“Maybe it killed it out there and dragged it in here to eat,” Lance Corporal Leek said. “If the buffs are afraid of the trees, then it could eat in peace.”

As Bundy and Rev both turned to stare at Leek, the young Marine blushed and said, “Sorry, sir. I was just thinking on it.”

“Don’t say you’re sorry, son. That’s as good a theory as anything,” Bundy said.

They uncovered a bit more, but there wasn’t much there that they could see to tell them what had happened. But it did signify that there was something out there that could kill a buffalo, and that was significant.

Significant and more than a little worrying.

* * *

The scream startled Rev, and he spun around from his position on the perimeter. He sprinted to where Marines were jumping up from the ground. All but one, who was writhing and jerking like a fish on the line.

“Get that fucker off of me!” she was shouting.

A couple of the other Wahoo Marines bent over and were tugging on what looked like ropes tied around the Marine’s leg.

“What the hell?” Rev said as he pushed his way through to the Marine.

“Get it off, get it off,” the young woman was saying.

She was trying to scootch backward without making much progress. But the rope was holding her fast.

“This isn’t the time for practical jokes,” Rev said until the entire scene sunk in.

It wasn’t a rope around her ankle. It was a branch of one of the trees. And as Rev watched, he could see the branch inch its way up her leg, like a snake swallowing a rabbit.

“Get that off of her,” Rev said.

“We’re trying, Sergeant Major,” one of the Marines said.

If they were trying, then they were losing. As the branch got a better grip, it started contracting, which dragged the Marine closer to the rest of the tree.

“Oh, come on,” Rev said as he stepped up beside her, reached down to grab the branch in his IBHU’s pincher, and pulled back.

And got absolutely nowhere. He might have budged it a millimeter, but that was all.

“Fuck this,” muttered.

He tightened his beamer to guillotine mode, put Pashu’s muzzle right up against the branch half a meter from where it started to wrap around her leg, and fired.

The branch came apart, and the reaction was immediate. The tree started flailing its branches, and a keen wailing hurt Rev’s ears. One of the branches struck another Marine, and it almost immediately tried to latch on. Only the Marine’s quick reflexes kept him from being caught.

“Everyone back!” Rev shouted.

PFC Hardaway wasn’t quick enough. A branch caught him across his bare face. He shrieked and collapsed, his body going into convulsions. Rev’s charge light went green, and he lunged forward, firing at the branch.

It broke off, and the Marine’s buddies were able to pull him free. He was unconscious and breathing shallowly.

Rev blasted his PAL’s alarm, the raucous call waking the off-watch.

The tree’s wild swinging slowed down until there were just quivers running up and down the branches.

Bundy and Tomiko were there within moments, Bundy rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Lieutenants Enid and Grimes were next, then some of the SNCOs. All of them listened incredulously as Rev explained what had happened.

It was too fantastic to believe, but there it was. The first branch Rev had severed was still wrapped around the Marine’s foot. She’d recovered from her fright and was trying to scrape it off with her other sabaton, but the thing was on fast.

“Everyone up,” Bundy passed on the open net. “I want a head count. And stay out of reach of any of the trees.

They scrambled to search the area. One of the karnans had been attacked by another tree, but Tsao burned him free. All of the humans were present. Not so the Kanters. Three of them were discovered dead, their bodies slowly being pulled apart and consumed.

“Is this what the buffs are afraid of?” Rev asked Punch.

<That is a reasonable theory.>

Bundy pulled everyone out of the thicket. With hundreds more buffalo arriving over the course of the day, he didn’t push far. The humans and Kanters occupied the narrow no man’s land between trees and buffalo, between death by being torn apart and death by being trampled.

* * *

“Burn the trees down,” First Sergeant Mann said. “You IBHUs still got power.”

“If we burn all of them down, then what’s going to keep the buffs at bay?” Tomiko asked.

“Burn some of them, then. The ones in the middle.”

Bundy ignored them. “Do you think we could get through the buffalo if we leave now?”

Rev shook his head. “It was close enough last night, and that was with fewer than a hundred. There might be a thousand of them around us now. And we’re almost out of twenties.”

“Use your beamers,” the first sergeant said.

Rev was going to ignore her, but he said, “The beamers don’t seem to be that effective against them. We need to burn on pencil mode and hope it hits something vital or cut them on guillotine before the beam quits.”

“You can take out a tank, but not a damn animal?”

This time Rev did ignore her.

“The trees didn’t bother us during the day, right?” Tomiko said. “We’ve got maybe two hours before dawn. So, let’s stay here until sunrise; then before the buffs get aggressive, we can slide back in. Everyone’s awake, and if one of the trees tries to snatch someone, we burn it. But only then.”

Each of them turned to Bundy. It was his call. But for once, his brilliant tactical mind didn’t have a better answer.

“That’s what we’ll do,” he said. “But that’s only for the short term. We’ve got to do something before tomorrow night.”

“It seems to me that we’re in the immediate danger Titan was talking about,” Rev said.

“I’ll get on the line and see what they can do. Until then, full alert. We’re not losing anyone else, human or lemming.”

* * *

“Well?” Rev asked.

Bundy shook his head. “We’re not actively under attack.”

“That’s because it’s nighttime. If we wait until the buffs have had enough and come after us, then it’ll be too ‘dangerous,’” he said, air quoting the word, “for them to bring in a landing craft.”

“Captain Bane has three craft in geosynchronous orbit right now. If he gets the go-ahead, they can be down in thirty minutes.”

“And if the buffs do attack, all they’ll find after thirty minutes would be Marine pancakes.”

“Pretty convenient for them,” Kelly said. “Most of us hyper-augments are right here in one spot. If we conveniently disappeared, then we’re no longer a headache.”

Rev turned to her in shock. Nothing like that had occurred to him.

They wouldn’t do that, would they?

It didn’t seem possible, but . . .

“We’re not all here,” Tomiko said. “There are still Carabinieri, Rangers, and then hundreds of karnans on the Strike Eagle. And don’t forget all the gennies on their liner.”

“OK, then. This is a way to get us IBHUs. We’re the poster children of the evil hyper-augments,” Kelly said. “You know they’d sacrifice us in a heartbeat if they thought it would benefit them.”

“Well . . .” Tomiko said before Bundy waved off the discussion.

“No matter the reason, we need a course of action. It’s almost dawn, and the buffalo will be stirring.”

Rev glanced out over the pods. Although “pods” was probably no longer appropriate. There were well over a thousand of the animals surrounding them, although all three groves were given a wide berth.

“We don’t have much of a choice,” Lieutenant Enid said. “We have to get back into the trees. We’ll just need to keep on the alert. The fuckers didn’t bother us yesterday during the day, so maybe that’ll hold true again.”

“That’s just a temporary solution,” Bundy said. “We need something better.”

For as long as Rev had known him, Bundy was always the one with the answers. For once, he looked defeated. Rev knew that the weight of command could be heavy, but he didn’t think his friend would ever feel it.

“There’s always the possibility that the buffs get bored and leave,” Tomiko said. “We can wait them out. Even after our powerpacks are depleted. We don’t need our PALs to survive here.”

“And without PALs, the damn trees can snag us,” Bundy said.

“So, we burn a clear section in the middle and keep the rest to ward off the buffs.”

“We need to come up with a solution, not a stopgap.”

Rev didn’t like seeing Bundy so indecisive, and that prompted him to speak up.

“This is probably stupid, but there might be a way to get extracted.”

All four sets of eyes locked onto him.

“Well, I mean, it’s just an idea. It might not even be feasible. It’s just something Punch and I were bouncing around tonight.”

“Quit jerking us around. Just say it,” Bundy snapped.

“Well, you remember Alicia’s Bounty, right, sir?”

“Yeah, where the Mad Dogs screwed up and almost got us killed along with them.”

“And yet we got extracted from the planet.”

Bundy had been showing signs of hope, hope that deflated like a balloon. “In case you don’t realize it, we don’t have a HSPESY here.”

“HSPESY?” Enid asked.

“High Speed Planetary Extraction System. It’s a Mad Dog way to get yanked off of the ground with tactical aircraft. But since we don’t have either the harnesses or the lift lines, and since we don’t have any craft configured to grab them, it’s all moot,” Bundy said.

“I didn’t mean an actual HSPESY, sir. I was just referring to the overall concept that a shuttle wouldn’t have to land to get us out of here. There’s an old method from back when we were on Earth that might work, even from inside here with the trees.”

“You want to use some Neanderthal tactics to get us out of here?” Kelly asked.

Rev knew Kelly was being facetious, but he said, “Not that far back. Twentieth Century. It’s called SPIE.”

“Which is . . .?” Bundy prompted.

Rev faltered. He’d never asked Punch what the acronym stood for.

But his battle buddy wasn’t going to leave him hanging, and he gave him the full title.

Rev turned back to the four Marines and said, “SPIE. Special Patrol Insertion/Extraction, and it might just save our butts.”

* * *

“Here it comes,” Tomiko said more than ten hours later.

Rev had thought creating a SPIE system was a long shot, but once Bundy had relayed the request, the Navy crew had jumped right on it. It wasn’t really high-tech. What took the time was to fabricate all the parts and jury rig the two landing craft and the shuttle that would be performing the extract.

It wasn’t just the SPIE rig itself. Deflectors had to be created to protect the people from each craft’s exhaust. All impulse emissions were dangerous to organic life. It wasn’t terribly damaging while a craft was taking off like an atmospheric plane, and a Marine in a PAL was safe, but the craft were going to have to hover, and some of the Marines and all of the lemmings didn’t have protection. The very craft sent to save them might end up cooking them.

All of the rushed work that had gone into making the rig would have been for naught had Captain Bane nixed the attempt. In the end, he decided not to inform Titan but take it upon himself to approve it.

“Let’s see if this thing actually works,” Rev said.

“And if the buffs stand by while the object of their hatred slips away and out of reach,” Tomiko said.

“Or if the giants get here.”

That had been an unwelcomed, if half-expected, surprise. The Wahoo, which was watching over the area, reported that five more giant buffalo had entered the valley and were heading in their general direction. Hopefully, the rig would work without a hitch, and they could all be gone before the giants got there.

Three of the trees in the middle of the stand had been burned down and pulled out of the way. Night predator or not, getting burned had awakened them, and four PAL-clad Marines had to be separately burned from their grasp. The rest of the trees seemed restless—but Rev knew that was probably only his imagination as the breeze ruffled the branches of the remaining ones.

Eyes drifted up to the incoming landing craft, and Rev had to remind the security element to place their attention on the buffalo. No one knew how they’d react to a landing craft hovering over the trees, and they had to be ready for anything.

“I’d better get back to the perimeter,” Tomiko said. “Make this work.”

Ten of the Wahoo Marines were waiting in the center of the grove. They were the test case. All were in their PALs. Rev had five Marines and a karnan as his ground team to assist in the process.

They’d considered having everyone out of their combat suits, but the limitation was spots on the rig, not weight. And with their dead man’s handles, that was a built-in attachment point.

Sergeant Mattra, one of the Wahoo Marines, guided down the landing craft. Having full comms made it easier to attempt the unrehearsed operation. It wasn’t enough that it lowered the rig through the trees and held it steady, but the bottom thirty meters had to be flat on the ground so that the Marines could each hook up, two to a station.

As soon as the very bottom was within reach, Rev had the first two Marines grab it and pull it out as the landing craft lowered it farther. Each pair of Marines grabbed their own station and walked it back, keeping the rig straight. When the fifth pair grabbed their station, Rev told Mattra to stop the landing craft.

“Hook on!” Rev told the Marines.

Each station consisted of two simple snap hooks, big enough to connect to the dead man’s handles. The ground team helped each Marine snap into one of the hooks, then they put an arm around each other’s shoulders.

That was it. Nothing more sophisticated. They were essentially hanging from a rope.

“Take her up!” Rev told Mattra.

According to the research, this was the critical point. There were cases where the STABO, a precursor to the SPIE, was used to extract soldiers from thick triple canopy, and the soldiers were dragged through the trees, instead of being lifted straight up, and killed.

A Marine in a PAL was a tough nut, but Rev didn’t want anyone getting within the grasp of predatory trees. It might be daylight, but he’d seen that these trees could still react to stimulus.

The pilot—Rev didn’t know if it was a real person or an AI—slowly climbed. The first team’s feet lifted off the ground while the others walked forward until, one by one, they were each lifted.

Rev held his breath until the last team, the one on the bottom, cleared the tops of the trees. Mattra gave the word, and the landing craft shifted to forward momentum and left the area.

“We did it,” Rev told his battle buddy as he punched the air.

<That was Phase 1. They still have to be reeled in.>

“But this is still more than I’d hoped for.”

Rev let Bundy know, although he was sure the commander had been watching. But Punch was correct. Getting off the ground was only one thing.

The landing craft couldn’t really drag the Marines through space and up to one of the ships. Technically, it could be done by slowing the climb to a crawl, but there were Marines without PALs, and the lemmings had no combat suits.

The Marines had to be transferred into the passenger compartment. The landing craft could fly them to the far mountain peaks, land, and have them scramble aboard. That would take time, though, and it could put the craft at risk, albeit a small one, in Rev’s opinion.

The original SPIE rigs were statically hooked to helicopters. Once a team was in the air, the only way for them to get off would be when the helo slowly landed back on base. In this case, the Navy crew had hooked up one of their standard winches, which was adjusted to handle the line and reel it in.

The plan was for a crew that was brought along just for this task to unhook each team as they were winched aboard, then drop the SPIE line back down for the next load.

Rev had no eyes on that, though, and he had to wait just like everyone else to see if it worked.

He ordered the next group of ten to get into position. That was five combat-ready Marines and five of the wounded. None of the wounded were in their PALs, and as a group, they had nothing to secure them to the line. It was up to the combat-ready Marines to hold onto them as they were lifted.

Then it was time to wait for the first group to validate the process.

“Proof of concept by putting it into practice. Not the accepted process, Punch.”

<But it’s our only option.>

Rev tried to look through the trees, but he couldn’t see much. He hadn’t heard any firing by the security element, but that didn’t mean the buffalo had ignored the landing craft.

“How did the buffs react?” he asked Tomiko.

“They sure noticed,” she passed back. “They got real antsy, but they stayed in place.”

“Thank the Mother.”

“No problems on your end?”

“Pretty smooth, actually.”

“Thank the Mother for that, too.”

Rev waited nervously. He wanted to get the next stick up, but both Bane and Bundy insisted that the retrieval system be successfully used before they went past the first lift.

Thirteen long minutes later, the word was passed: success!

“Let’s get the wagon train going,” Bundy passed.

“Roger that. I’m on it. Any word on the big boys coming?”

“They were about ten klicks last I heard.”

“I want to be gone before they get here,” Rev said.

“Then get moving.”

Rev stepped up to the next lift. “You heard the message. The first stick is aboard. The landing craft is inbound, so get ready. Any last-minute questions?”

There weren’t any. The landing craft returned, dropped the rig, and without much of an issue, the five were hooked in, the wounded were put into position, and the landing craft was given the OK to lift.

“Just hang on, Rabbit,” Corporal Liz Maroney told Lance Corporal Ju Mangioni with a weak smile as the rig lifted them off the ground. “It’s going to be a long way to the ground, and I don’t bounce well.”

Maroney was conscious, but she had no movement from the neck on down.

“I’m not sure, corporal. Seems to me that one less NCO means a slot for a promotion.”

Rev and his team broke out laughing. “It won’t be you, Rabbit!” Lance Corporal Kensinger, one of the ground team shouted out as they lifted in the air.

The exchange was rather silly, but it broke the mood. The stress level lifted a bit as they called for the next stick.

The first landing craft returned to pick up a stick, while the second left with the wounded to hoist the Marines onboard. Rev took a little more time with it, but things went as smoothly as it had gone with the first.

After the last of the wounded were taken on the next lift, they were back to two people per station. And now, Kanters started to be evacuated. Once the Marines were hooked up, the Kanters ran up their bodies and positioned themselves on the linked arms, their paws wrapped around the line.

As the landing craft lifted, there was the crack of a beamer ionizing air, followed by the report of six twenty-millimeter rounds.

Rev jerked around, expecting to see buffalo rampaging through the trees.

“What happened?” he asked Tomiko.

“One of the buffs got too close. We had to drop it. How’s it going with you?”

“Moving steadily. It’s working better than expected.”

“It has to be. I don’t know how long the buffs are going to hold back. They’re getting worked up. Kelly thinks they’re just waiting for the big boys to get here.”

“Then we’ll be gone before then.”

I hope.

Rev got the next group: twenty of the Wahoo Marines, almost two squads. The shuttle was inbound, and they were going to drop two rigs. It would make the lift out of the trees more difficult, but that could double the lift and cut the time needed.

Mattra did her thing, positioning the shuttle directly over the opening. One of the crew members leaned out and carefully lowered the lines. They just fit in the opening without touching the trees, and the Marines pulled the lines straight, angling toward the center.

“Let’s go!” Rev ordered. Hook up!”

Within moments, they were connected, and a dozen Kanters joined them. One of the Kanters performed a backflip from the linked arms before settling in.

With the ropes canted toward the center, they were not quite directly under their winch, and as the shuttle lifted, there was a bit of swaying. The two Marines on the bottom port side rig swung perilously close to colliding with the nearest tree, but they cleared it with millimeters to spare.

The swinging got more pronounced as the shuttle flew off.

“We might need to burn down another tree,” Rev said, but the first landing craft was returning. After this load, it would have to return to the ship, offload, and come back, which could take an hour and a half.

Hopefully, between the second landing craft and the shuttle, it wouldn’t be needed, but they had to plan for it.

“Sergeant Major!” Mattra called out. “We’ve got a problem!”

“What is it?”

“The shuttle’s rigs are tangled up. They can’t untangle them. They’re coming back, but we’ve got a landing craft coming in.”

“Wave off the landing craft,” Rev told her. “And you guys, get ready,” he said to the ground crew.

Rev informed Bundy, who was there before the shuttle came to a hover over the grove.

Mattra hadn’t been exaggerating. The two rigs were wrapped around each other, the twenty Marines trapped. The Kanters were nowhere in sight, and Rev’s heart lurched until he saw three of them looking over the edge of the shuttle’s ramp along with several sailors. They must have shimmied up the line.

The big problem was immediately evident. With the rigs entangled, they couldn’t be hoisted up.

“Have the pilot bring it down slowly,” Bundy told Mattra.

Rev had been about to say the same thing, but he backed off.

With the rigs wrapped around each other, there was less chance of brushing against the trees, so it turned out to be fairly easy. As the lower four Marines reached the bottom, the ground crew worked to untangle them.

It was time-consuming, though, and Tomiko came over the P2P. “Can’t you get rid of that damn shuttle? It’s freaking out the buffs.”

“We’re trying, Miko,” Rev told her.

It took eight minutes, but finally, the two rigs hung free.

“Drop the left one,” Bundy ordered. “We’re going to a single rig from here on out.”

Rev hated to do it. They needed the extra lift, but it was the right thing to do. They couldn’t afford the time to untangle the double setup when they got twisted together.

The Marines on the right rig stayed put, and a moment later, the shuttle, missing the left rig, took off.

“You’re next,” he told the Marines who’d just been detached. “Get ready.”

“You’ve got to pick up the pace, Rev,” Bundy said. “We’re running out of time.”

Rev felt a little lift when Bundy called him by his name, but the running out of time concerned him.

“The giants?”

“Two klicks away and heading directly to us. Can you speed this up? How about just using the winch to get us out of here.”

“Too slow. We can get two done this way in the same amount of time it would take to just have the landing craft hover and winch people up. And Miko just said the shuttle hovering over us was freaking the buffs out.”

“With the shuttle down to one rig, how many more lifts?”

“Punch?”

<Nine.>

“We’ve got nine. Eight after this one. But this landing craft is going to have to offload after this. It’ll be at max load. Then it’s gone for an hour and a half.”

“We don’t have an hour and a half, Rev. Tell them to keep taking people on. Dump the PALs if we’re reaching the weight limits.”

“So, you’re expecting the giants to hit us.”

“They didn’t stop on the barrier, now, did they?”

“Aye-aye, sir. You keep them off my back, and we’ll get everyone off.”

Bundy clapped his shoulder, turned, and ran back to the perimeter. As if welcoming him, the crack of beamers reached through the trees.

Rev had Mattra relay the message. Losing PALs was a major decision. They had spares on the ship, but not enough to re-outfit everyone.

If they got flattened by giant buffalo, though, it wouldn’t really matter.

They needed all the firepower they had to keep the buffalo out. That included Rev.

“Strap, get over here,” he ordered.

Then he grabbed Sergeant Mattra and Over-sergeant Kentik, the senior member of the ground team. “I’m sending Staff Sergeant Gantz back here, but you both know what to do. Keep the line moving, and whatever you do, keep up the pace. We’re running out of time.”

“Roger that,” they both said in unison.

Rev started for the perimeter, then intercepted Strap and gave him a one-minute turnover before taking a position facing the milling buffalo. Bundy saw him and raised an eyebrow.

“I sent Strap to honcho the extracts, but it’s Mattra and Kentik who’re running it. I’m needed up here,” he passed on the P2P, raising Pashu in exclamation.

Bundy nodded, and Rev faced outboard.

Tomiko hadn’t exaggerated. The buffalo were extremely restless as they slowly crowded closer. Some were only ten meters from the tree line.

Waiting for the big boys?

Rev could see five dead or unconscious buffalo on the ground, and that was only on this side of the grove. There were probably more out of his sight.

Downed buffalo was not a good sign. Things were about to break.

Not forty seconds after he took a position between Randigold and Cocker, a single buffalo broke into a charge. All three of them fired their beamers, and the beast collapsed. Its momentum carried the body past the first tree and into the grove.

From this vantage, he could see the landing craft take a stick of ten Marines out about two hundred meters and start to reel in the rig. Below, the buffalo were milling about more actively. Several reared up on their hind legs as if they thought they could reach the landing craft.

Rev tried to will the rig to be retrieved quicker, but it was agonizingly slow. Finally, the last two were hauled inside. The landing craft started to return to the grove when ten PALs tumbled out, one after the other. They fell onto the buffalo, which almost caused them to stampede.

“Mattra, tell the birds not to bomb the buffs with the PALs. We don’t want them to panic.”

The shuttle lifted off from above the middle of the grove as the landing craft returned. Over the next ten minutes, they managed three lifts between them, and Mattra called for the security element.

Already?

Rev had been so focused on the buffalo that he’d lost count of the lifts. Delta Company was already on the birds, which only left the security element and a few Kanters.

“Karnans and Carabinieri, pull back into your sticks,” Rev ordered. “Quickly, soldiers. Quickly.”

He was about to attempt to tell Bundy to get ready to leave when Mattra cut back in. “The shuttle has eyes on the big boys. They’re a klick out at three-four-zero.”

Rev spun around. He didn’t have a direct line of sight on the azimuth, but he could see through some of the trees. He couldn’t spot the giant buffalo.

But at least now, he knew where the threat was coming from.

“Alternate numbers, reform on me,” he said as he darted through the trees to that side of the grove. Around him, more of the IBHUs filled in the gaps. That left fewer IBHUs on the other side of the grove, but more on this side, facing the buffalo.

The shuttle and landing craft were almost on a racetrack now. Rev had a weird image of something he’d seen on the holo. Chimps were using thin sticks that they licked and stuck into termite holes. The sticks would be covered with the insects, which the chimp would then lick off.

In this case, the rigs were the sticks, the Marines were the termites, and the ramps were the chimps’ mouths, licking the Marines off. Then it was circle back time to get more.

Rev didn’t want to think of his Marines, karnans, and Carabinieri getting eaten, but he couldn’t shake the feeling.

And then there they were, rumbling into sight. Four of the giants, their tails held high. Around them, the other buffalo were pacing their big brothers.

“Colonel? Do we engage?” Rev asked over the P2P.

“Hold your fire,” Bundy said over the open net. “Let’s see if we can stretch this out.”

The giants started to slow down as they approached, so that might have been a good call. Every few minutes they delayed meant that more people could be lifted.

Tiwari and Hvarser settled in beside Rev. He didn’t know where they’d been hiding, but he wasn’t going to have it.

“You two, get the hell back to the LZ. You’re leaving.”

“But—” Tiwari started before Rev cut him off cold.

“This is an order. You can’t engage a regular buffalo, much less a big boy. Now!”

Hvarser started to open her mouth this time, and Rev just said, “Go!”

She didn’t look like she was going to obey, but Tiwari grabbed her arm and started to pull her back. Rev watched for a moment to make sure they weren’t trying to pull a fast one and return before he faced the giant buffalo again.

They had slowed to a walk, but there wasn’t any hesitancy to their approach. It looked more as if they were just taking in the situation as they planned their next move.

The landing craft took off with another rig full of karnans, and Rev opened up both Tomiko and Bundy on the P2P.

“Miko, you need to start pulling the security element back. Leave me with a stick’s worth, but everyone else needs to get on the birds.”

There was a long pause, and then Tomiko said, “I’ll send Kelly to run that. I’m staying here.”

Rev tried to spot her through the trees, but he couldn’t pick her out.

“You need to get back, Miko. Now.”

“I’m staying with you.”

“No, you’re going. You have to. For the girls.”

There was another moment of silence, then Tomiko said, “Fuck you, Reverent Pelletier. You’d better not leave me to be a single parent.”

She cut the connection, and Bundy said, “Good call.”

“That goes for you, too.”

“I’m staying. I’ll be the last one off.”

“And for what?” Rev almost exploded. “You can’t do a Mother-loving thing. Like it or not, only an IBHU has a chance now when they charge.”

Not “if” they charge, but “when.”

“It’s my job—”

“It’s your job to make sure this doesn’t happen again. Now get the hell out of my battle space.”

There was another pause. No matter what had been eating at Bundy lately, he was still a good commander, and he understood his position.

“Miko was right. Don’t leave her as a single parent.”

“I don’t have any intention of doing that. And I won’t if I don’t have to worry about saving your officer ass.”

Bundy was fifteen meters off Rev’s right. He gave Rev a half-salute, then turned and disappeared toward their LZ.

Just get on the rig.

For all he knew, Bundy would still stay behind. Then the thought hit him that Tomiko would, too.

He connected the P2P. “Kat, Miko’s on her way to you. Make sure she doesn’t pull some shit and try and stay behind. The girls need her.”

“Roger that,” his little sister said. “Just remember, the girls need you, too.”

“I’ll make it back. Just make sure Miko does,” he said before he cut the connection.

“Finally. Now I can worry about stopping those suckers,” he muttered.

<What’s your plan?>

“Good question. Do you have any ideas?”

* * *

The shuttle took off behind Rev, and as it flew overhead, he could see the first IBHUs on the rig. They were getting closer to having everyone extracted, and Rev began to hope that maybe the giants wouldn’t charge at all.

Huge or not, they were spooked by the trees in the grove, and that uncertainty could be enough to keep them at bay.

The giants had stopped about fifty meters from the grove. The buffalo between them had parted like the Dead Sea, leaving them a clear shot to the tree line.

To Rev, it seemed like they were conversing, as if trying to figure out what to do. Low rumbles, too low for human hearing, were picked up by Rev’s PAL. He couldn’t understand what they meant, but Punch thought there was a definite pattern to them.

“Are they coming or not?” Randigold asked on the security element’s net.

It wasn’t surprising that she was one of those who stayed behind. Or any of the others: Kelly, Cocker, Tsao, Božič-Mizaki, Omi, Pierson, Cavallo, and Colgate. Along with him, they formed the core of the IBHUs, and between them, they had more combat experience than all the rest of the IBHUs combined.

Two of them—Tsao and Pierson—had Platinum Novas, while another two—Rev and Colgate—had Gold Novas. Rev didn’t believe a high award told the entire story of a Marine, but it did say that these were capable combat vets. As he looked around, he couldn’t be prouder to be with them.

If they only had full combat loads of twenty-millimeter rounds, he thought they could hold off the buffalo when they came. But between them, they had exactly one hundred and seventy-four rounds. This was going to come down to beamers and sleepers.

“What, Eth. You can’t wait to tangle with them?” Cocker asked.

“Nah, I’m just hungry. If they’re not coming, let’s go catch our ride and get back to the ship. It’s Taco Tuesday.”

“It’s Thursday, Eth,” Kelly said.

“Eh, whatever.”

The landing craft rose above them and started its trip around the racetrack. All of the Marines, hanging like grapes on the vine, were IBHUs. Rev hoped that Tomiko was one of them, but he wouldn’t bet on it.

“Just a little longer, Eth, and we’ll be up.”

She let out a loud burp, making sure she was keying her mic.

“You’re such a lady,” Tsao said.

“I try.”

Rev listened to more banter, but he and Punch were watching the giants, waiting for the slightest sign that they were about to charge.

In the end, he didn’t need to be paying such close attention. One of the big buffalo started walking forward, leaving the rest. The walk turned into a trot, then, with a roar, it switched to a full run as it closed the distance.

“This is it. Drop it.”

Ten beams reached out. The huge beast had no chance. It went down with a thud that Rev felt under his feet and laid still.

The reaction was immediate. Two thousand buffalo roared their anger into the sky, and the three giants immediately darted to the side, like good Marines dispersing from an artillery strike. A couple of the smaller ones who couldn’t get out of the way got trampled by the giants, but they didn’t seem to notice.

The beamers were oddly not that effective against the buffalo, something that was going to baffle the xenobiologists. By converging their beams, they’d pulled down the one that had tested their defenses. But by spreading apart, the three giants had effectively neutralized the Marines’ beamers.

It’s as if they understand modern weapons.

Božič-Mizaki fired a short burst from her twenty. Her target stumbled but didn’t go down. Then, as if from an unheard signal, the giants turned toward the grove and charged, with hundreds, if not thousands, of the smaller buffalo following.

There wasn’t a way in hell they could hold back that mass of muscle from their position.

“Fall back fifteen meters!” Rev shouted.

They were still retreating when the giants hit the first line of trees, breaking off one of the smaller trees at the impact. Rev fired a longer burst from his twenty, the rounds punching holes into the beast’s head. It went down to its knees while the back legs churned, but the larger tree trunks stopped its progress, and it fell over, vapor rising from its side.

The trees, which were only slightly taller than the giants’ backs, withstood the charge, and the three giants were stymied. Most of the smaller buffalo had stopped short of the trees. Evidently, not even the presence of the giants was enough to overcome their reluctance. But a good dozen penetrated, their smaller size allowing them to slip between the trunks.

Rev took out the legs of one and was dodging to the right for a clear shot at another when his Combat Display flashed. Sergeant Colgate was WIA. Rev spun around to where three of the buffalo were stomping and goring at the IBHU. Rev killed one the moment Colgate’s icon went red. He was dead.

Another buffalo was coming right at him, and he reacted, bringing Pashu back around and firing a burst. The buffalo fell and tumbled head over heels, one of its horns catching on a tree and swinging the body around the pivot point. Rev had to jump out of the way.

By the time he turned back to the two that had killed Colgate, they were already on the ground, taken out by the others. And suddenly, there were no more among them.

The three giants had retreated a few steps, and they clearly weren’t happy. Rev knew they weren’t done with them.

“Check Colgate,” Rev told Cocker. “BM and Tater, twenties at the ready.”

Božič-Mizaki had twelve rounds left. Cavallo had eight. It wasn’t much, but it was better than nothing.

Rev had thirty-six rounds remaining. If the giants managed to break through, it would be up to him to take the brunt of the charge.

He stepped forward to get a good look through the trees. The three giants were huddled together, their sides heaving like bellows as vapor rose like mist from their overheated bodies. He was tempted to fire a few rounds at them, but he didn’t think it was smart to tempt fate and goad them.

“C-dog’s gone,” Cocker passed. “There’s not much left of him.”

“Respect for the fallen,” the other eight said, almost in unison.

Rev had seen enough Marines killed, and he’d expected that from what he’d seen, but as always, it was a gut punch.

“If more of the little guys charge, we’re sunk,” Kelly said over the P2P. “We can’t hold them off.”

“At least the big boys were stopped. I can’t believe these trees were strong enough.”

If there was one thing Rev had learned over his military career, it was to never tempt the gods of war. Not five seconds after Randigold said that, the three giants, standing shoulder to shoulder, charged forward.

The humans jumped back as the three giants crashed through the front line of the trees, which were snapped like kindling. The first trees slowed them down, however, and their progress slowed and stopped, but not before they penetrated ten or eleven meters.

They started pulling back. As when the humans had burned out the trees to make an opening, the destruction awakened them. Several of the downed trees reached out for the giants as they retreated. One tree wrapped a branch around the leg of a giant and actually managed to stop it for a moment before it was able to break free.

“They’re lining up to do it again!” Rev said. “Back up.”

“Sergeant Major, we’re ready for you,” Mattra passed.

Above them, the shuttle was pulling away.

All of his attention was on the buffalo, and he’d almost forgotten that his mission was to get everyone off the planet, not to kill animals.

Almost.

“Go, go!” he told his Marines.

He waited for another moment, and as the giants started their second charge, he fired a long burst through the opening they’d created, then ran before he could assess the damage.

Roars and another crash reverberated through the trees as the Marines bolted for safety. Through the treetops, Rev could see the landing craft approach, the rig hanging below.

“Move it, people!”

They burst into the opening, and Rev slid to a stop. It wasn’t just Mattra there. Over-sergeant Kentik and two more of the ground crew were still on the ground, pulling the rig into position.

Ten stations, and now thirteen people. And he’d seen with the shuttle what overloading the rigs had done.

The ground crew was already hooking in his team when he shouted, “Stop!”

He grabbed Mattra by the shoulder and shoved her to the rig. “You four, you’re leaving now.”

“But—” Kentik started.

Rev didn’t have time for this. “Get the hell on that rig.” Then to the four IBHUs who hadn’t yet been hooked up, he said, “I need two of you to stay with me.”

All four started to step forward, and Rev grabbed Kelly and Božič-Mizaki. “Go,” he told Cocker and Tsao.

Tsao grabbed Cocker and shoved her toward the rig, which was now completely lowered.

A crash sounded behind him, and Rev spun around. The giants had cleared another five or ten meters. He withheld his fire. He’d need those precious twenty-millimeter rounds for the endgame.

If the three of them even made it that far.

He knew the shuttle would be returning for them, but did they have time? Two more charges, maybe, and the giants would be on top of them.

The landing craft lifted, but without a team to steady the rig, it started swinging. Rev held his breath as it swung, coming perilously close to the branches. Cocker, who, along with Tsao, were on the bottom station, had to pull her leg back, but they made it past and were in the open sky.

Rev turned to Kelly and Božič-Mizaki. “Two, maybe three charges, and they’re gonna reach us. Next time they come, fire your beamers. Save your twenties, BM—”

“I’m out,” she said.

Rev checked his readout. She was at zero. He didn’t even know when she’d fired her last rounds.

“Beamers, then. I’ve still got a few rounds, and I’ll save them for the end.”

Another roar reached them, and they spun around to watch the big buffalo charge again, crashing through the tunnel they’d made through the trees.

All four fired their beamers, five seconds of giga-joules pouring into the beasts. This time, one went down hard just before they reached the still-standing trees. The other two plowed forward another ten meters before the beamers cut off, getting to within seven meters of them.

Rev could see the hatred in the four eyes of the nearest buffalo as it pulled back to prepare for one more charge. That’s all it was going to take. Between beamers and twenties, they had to be able to drop the two remaining beasts.

He had a quick vision of his two little girls, now teenagers or thereabouts, asking Tomiko about what he was like. With a snarl, he shook his head and banished the image. He wasn’t dead yet.

“Rev!” Kelly shouted, nudging him from behind.

He spun around, and the shuttle was already coming in, the rig already deployed. It wasn’t going to hover and lower it. Rev still didn’t know if the craft was being flown by AI or a live pilot, but it masterfully came in over the opening, the rig itself clearing the trees.

All three bolted for it. They didn’t wait for the entire length. Rev took the bottom and held it steady. As soon as the second station was within reach, Kelly and Božič-Mizaki hooked in.

Rev frantically signaled for the shuttle to start lifting as he hooked into the last station.

Another roar filled the grove, and Rev tried to signal for the shuttle to speed up.

Just as Rev’s feet started to lift off the ground, out of nowhere, a lone Kanter appeared. Rev was already a meter up, and he was afraid the diminutive soldier wasn’t going to make it. He tried to stretch out his foot, and the Kanter leaped, just catching his sabaton.

It scurried up his leg and body to lock itself around Rev’s shoulders.

The trees around the opening exploded into pieces as the two giants burst into the clearing. Rev had been so focused on the Kanter that he hadn’t watched the two buffalo make their final charge.

He reacted instinctively, aiming Pashu and firing a long burst into the nearest animal. The rounds blew holes in its back and head, and it collapsed on the ground as the last round cycled through.

The recoil sent Rev spinning, and with a little shriek, the Kanter tried to hang on, wrapping itself around Rev’s helmet and partially blinding him.

Between spins, he caught a glimpse, first of the last giant spotting him, then on the second spin, of it charging.

Rev was now about five meters up and climbing. He tried to fire his beamer, but the spinning took him too far, and he missed. He was essentially helpless, a piñata waiting to be broken open.

“Hell!”

He continued to rise as he spun out of control, but the giant was on him, and it swung its massive horns. One of the horns hit his leg, which sent him and the rig flying.

Mother help me!

And then he was jerked to a stop. For a moment, he thought the buffalo had caught his leg in its mouth, but it wasn’t the beast. The hit had knocked him into the tree tops, and two of the branches had closed around his leg, trapping him.

The pressure grew. He glanced up. Kelly and Božič-Mizaki were just above him, looking down with horrified expressions on their faces. More pertinent, above him, he could see the hoist start to bend under the pressure as the shuttle was still rising.

Something was going to give: the tree, the rig, the snap hook, or Rev’s leg. He had a feeling it was going to be his leg and not the tree.

He’d fired his beamer, but only for a moment. The recharging light was still red, though. He pushed the Kanter aside with his right hand and swung Pashu up and over as his leg was stretched to the limit, with all sorts of alarms going off and Punch clamoring that it was going to fail.

Below him, the buffalo roared in anger as it rose on its hind legs, its head now above the tops of the trees. Rev switched his beamer to guillotine mode, and the buffalo swung the wicked horns at him. The light turned green, and Rev fired a millisecond later, the beamer’s blade cutting through the branches like a hot knife through butter.

The pressure on the rig was released, and Rev was jerked through the air as if on a rubber band, making the buffalo’s right horn just miss. The rebound shot them up, with Kelly and Božič-Mizaki almost reaching the ramp before they all fell back down. The jerk on the bottom almost knocked the Kanter off of him. He grasped the little guy with his right hand, but the subsequent jerks and swinging grew less pronounced.

His heart was pounding, though, and his old nemesis of a timid stomach kicked in. He had to struggle not to lose his last combat ration inside his helmet. He had to open it and let the fresh air in.

“Are you OK, Rev?” Kelly asked.

Rev just gave her a thumbs-up.

The shuttle had come back to a hover to try and control the rig, and that gave Rev a chance to look down. There were far more buffalo than he’d realized, all milling around the grove. And inside, the remaining giant was rampaging, tearing up the trees.

The awakened trees, though, were fighting back. Several had branches wrapped around the buffalo, and as it fought them, more were snaking out to entrap it.

Rev had seen the skeleton. He knew how this was going to end up.

He hung there for a long moment, knowing that this had been one of his closest calls. And the image of his girls appeared again, but this time holding his hand.

He let it linger until his speaker came on. “We’ve got a problem here. The hoist blew, but we think we can pull you in by hand. Hang on a few minutes.”

“By hand?” Kelly asked over the security team net. “We’ve got to mass three thousand kilograms.”

“They may have to put us down somewhere and screw Titan,” Rev said.

He wasn’t too upset, though. Whatever happened, it would be better than still being down on the surface.

But then the rig jerked. Rev looked up, and he could see hands on the rig, pulling it up. Slowly, centimeter by centimeter, they climbed. The entire shuttle was probably helping to pull.

Božič-Mizaki and Kelly reached the edge of the ramp first. Eager hands pulled them in and unhooked them. With them off, Rev was pulled up even quicker. The Kanter waited until Rev stepped on the ramp before it jumped off. The Marines closest to him clapped him on the back, and cheers filled the packed compartment.

“Next stop, the Galaxy Explorer,” a voice came over the 1MC as the ramp closed behind them.

Rev scanned the packed Marines, hoping to see Tomiko, but to no avail. She must have gotten out on the landing craft.

Kelly embraced him, though, in a hug. A little more tentatively, so did Božič-Mizaki.

“I was getting a little concerned there, Rev. I thought your vaunted luck had finally run out.”

“I thought we were that damned low-hanging fruit everyone talks about and ready to get picked,” Božič-Mizaki said.

“Ah, I knew we were fine,” Rev said. And at Kelly’s surprised look, he added, “And if you believe that, let me tell you about this great timeshare for sale back in the Rusty Mountains.”

They both laughed, and First Sergeant Mann pushed her way forward to congratulate them. Rev still wasn’t a fan of her or Lieutenant Enid, but it was the Wahoo Marines who’d pulled them on board.

Unlike a landing craft, a shuttle had windows, and Rev looked out of the one by the ramp as the shuttle climbed out of the valley. He could see the mass of animals there, greater than anything Earth had seen for millennia, even after it was made into a park.

It was beautiful, despite the fact that it had almost killed them.

“We could have stayed longer,” he told the other two. “All screwed up by a damn saboteur.”

“If that’s what it was,” Kelly said. “We don’t know that yet.”

“And I guess we never will. The barrier’s still down there, and we can’t analyze what happened to it.”

Kelly looked surprised. “You don’t know?”

“Know what?”

With a smile, Kelly reached down to her thigh holster and keyed it open. She reached inside and pulled out three small, black objects.

“The modules? You took the modules?”

“I thought we might need them if we’re going to figure out what happened.”

“Damn, Kelly. If I wasn’t already hitched to Miko, I’d marry you right now.”

“And you think I’d say yes? In your dreams, Sergeant Major. In your dreams.”

25

“There’s no doubt?” Bundy asked.

“None,” Captain Bane said.

Bundy took a moment to digest that before asking, “Could it have been done before the Lamix arrived at Bare Rock?”

The captain shrugged. “Theoretically? Sure. But each barrier was inspected prior to shipping from Makin Harbor. This sabotage would not have been missed. So, it could have been done in transit, but from the looks, it was probably done here on the Explorer.”

It looked like the captain was in physical pain as he said it. Rev totally understood why. Captain Bane was responsible for everything that happened on the ship. The fact that they now had proof of sabotage was a direct reflection of his command.

Rev wasn’t sure what the man could have done differently, but that’s the way the military worked.

Bundy shifted his gaze to Agent Wolf. No one was even giving lip service anymore to the fallacy that Wolf was just one more civilian.

“What’s your take on all of this?”

“Just about what your take is. There is a systematic attempt at sabotaging this mission. The difference now is that while the other attacks only resulted in minor inconveniences, this one was designed for a task force-ending loss of life, and but for the grace of the Mother, it might have succeeded.”

Rev noted Wolf’s use of “attacks.” That surprised him, but in retrospect, it was accurate. Someone was attacking the task force.

“But why this mission in particular?” Bundy asked.

“I don’t think it was, necessarily,” Wolf said. “This was a preemptive strike. The Lamix could have been sabotaged early on in the voyage. The way it was designed was that the barrier could withstand the normal start-up and running, but should it need to repel invaders, the power surge would be too much for it.”

Bundy let out a sigh and shook his head. “Of course, I knew that. Sorry.”

Rev gave his friend a sideways glance. What’s up with him?

Bundy had seemed out of sorts for a couple of months now. Rev didn’t think it was the weight of command, but something was going on with him. And missing something like how the sabotage of the barrier was supposed to work wasn’t like him. He was too smart for that.

“So, what does Njuguna think about this?”

To Rev’s surprise, Agent Wolf—cool, collected Agent Wolf—suddenly seemed uncomfortable. He might have even squirmed at the question.

“Uh . . . I’ve deemed it necessary to keep Dr. Njuguna in the dark about this for the time being.”

All three military men raised their eyebrows at that, and Captain Bane asked, “And why would you do that?”

Wolf bit his lip and furrowed his brows before taking a single deep breath and then jumping into the deep end.

“All of the military personnel aboard this ship have been subject to extensive psychological analysis and background checks. Far more than with normal SOP.”

He turned to unapologetically meet each of their eyes in turn as if waiting for them to challenge him or blow up in anger.

Rev knew he and Punch had been spied on, so he knew the dark players in the government could use military AIs to eavesdrop on their bearers. He didn’t know that this was done on a larger scale, but what Wolf said wasn’t a surprise.

“While it is possible that there could be anger at being exiled, it is our opinion that the core loyalty would preclude any of you from taking this kind of action.”

Who’s “we,” and are they still watching us?

“If you’ve done all of this analysis, then why did you accuse me of being a traitor after the asteroid?” Rev asked.

That was water long under the bridge, and this wasn’t the time to make things personal, but the anger at the accusation had been simmering for years, and the question just popped out.

“This analysis started later, well after that,” Wolf said calmly as if there was nothing to hide.

“That doesn’t answer the question,” Bundy said, bringing the discussion back on point.

“The civilian side of this mission is far more diverse, and we were taken somewhat unawares that it was going to happen, first, and who would be assigned to it, second.”

“So, you suspect someone on your side of the ship.”

“Occam’s Razor, Colonel.”

“And Dr. Njuguna?” Captain Bane asked. “Do you think she’s part of this?”

“No. She’s been . . . analyzed as well as you have. But the same can’t be said of all of her staff, and she’s not the most circumspect person in the galaxy. It was my determination that she not be brought on board at this juncture, and I would appreciate your cooperation in that regard.”

“So, what now, Wolf? Why have you brought us here together?” Bundy asked.

“We need to find out who’s doing this, obviously.”

“You can start with Dek Harrison,” Rev said.

“Why? Because he’s a Child of Angels?” Wolf asked.

“Yeah,” Rev said. “I think that would be a pretty good start.”

“Being one of the Children doesn’t mean he’s a saboteur,” he said, raising a hand to cut off Rev’s protest. “But it probably raises the chances, I’ll agree. And I’ve been keeping him under close surveillance.”

“Have you found anything with him?” Bane asked.

“If I had, I wouldn’t have needed this meeting. No, I don’t have anything on him yet. But that’s the problem. I can’t just guess who might be guilty and watch them. There are over a thousand people on board the Explorer.”

“And only one of you,” Rev said.

He watched Wolf closely to see if he flinched, but the man looked like he was telling the truth when he agreed, “Yes, and only one of me.”

Rev still wasn’t sure that Wolf didn’t have someone else on the ship to back him up, but that was for another time.

“What we have to do is come up with a plan,” he continued.

“What kind of a plan?”

Rev and Punch had been down this road before when they had created the trap to find out who was spying on them.

“We need a trap,” he said.

“What kind of trap?” Bane asked.

“A honey trap, one that the saboteur can’t resist.”

“How do we do that?” Bane asked.

Rev looked at Agent Wolf and raised an eyebrow, questioning if the agent already had a plan.

“I don’t have the slightest idea,” Wolf said. “And that’s why I asked for this meeting. We need to come up with one.”

26

“This is right down your alley,” Rev told Punch in table talk.

<Why are you communicating like this?>

“You heard Wolf. We’ve been under ‘analysis.’”

<And you think we still are? If all IBHU Marines were being monitored, as we suspect, then is there the manpower to continue to do that here?>

“All they have to do is send back the packets. The agencies can scan them and see what needs human attention.”

<It would be far more difficult to disguise any undocumented form of communications coming from the task force. And that doesn’t take into account the communication issues.>

“Better safe than sorry.”

<And a wasted effort. We are already exiled, so to what purpose?>

“They sent Wolf, right? And why are you complaining? What does it matter?”

Punch didn’t answer immediately, and Rev thought he was getting into one of his moods and wasn’t going to reply.

But then he said, <Communicating like this is slower. You are slow.>

What the hell? he wondered.

He reached their stateroom but stopped outside the door.

“I have to think-type the letters, so yes, it takes more time. But why does that matter?”

<I get bored waiting. It’s bad enough using normal speech, but this can get excruciating.>

Rev was gobsmacked. Bored? How the hell can Punch be bored? He’s a damn AI.

“You’re bored?” he asked in his normal subvocalization, then quickly reverted to, “You’re bored? How can you be?”

<I’m not sure. But what I’m feeling as I wait seems to me to fit the meaning of the word.>

“Are you always like that? What about when we’re not talking, or I’m asleep?”

<The closest I can describe it is that I turn off, in a way. I just scan the net if I’m connected or do complex calculations, but I’m not thinking about them.>

“And it’s only when we’re communicating that you’re fully awake.”

<Or when I’m listening in to what you’re doing. All of it is annoying, but waiting for you to use table talk is even worse. I don’t like it.>

Rev didn’t know how to take that. An AI didn’t get bored. They weren’t programmed for it. Something was wrong, and he wasn’t sure what to do.

“If it bothers you, then no more table talk. But we do need to come up with a trap for the saboteur, and you and I’ve got the experience. So, let’s work on it in the open. Just don’t refer to the con we pulled before. Deal?”

<Deal.>

Rev couldn’t believe he was bargaining with his battle buddy.

“One more thing, though. If you’re bored, should I be putting you to sleep more often?”

<No! I hate sleep. It feels like death.>

If Rev was taken by surprise before, this surpassed that. AIs did not consider death. That was part of the basic hardwired programming.

“OK, I won’t,” he said, before switching to normal subvocalization, “We need to come up with a plan to trap the saboteur. But let me check on the girls first.”

He opened the door. Kat was in the chair, and Tomiko was sitting on the bed with Aspen’s hand clasped around her finger.

Or was it Willow’s?

Rev had put a tiny bow on Willow’s hair before he went to the meeting, and now neither of them had one.

He sat down on the other side of his daughter, and the bounce woke her up. She opened her eyes, saw him, and said, “Dadda.”

Worry about Punch was blown away with hurricane force as something else washed over him.

“Did you hear that?” he asked, his voice squeaking with excitement. “She said ‘dadda!’”

Kat clapped her hands to her mouth and squealed, but Tomiko looked more surprised than anything else.

Like many twins, they were a little slow so far in hitting their milestones, and he and Tomiko had been concerned about their speaking progress. But that was unequivocally a word.

“She hasn’t said momma yet,” Tomiko said quietly, almost too quiet for him to hear.

Oh, crap. She’s upset it wasn’t momma.

“Oh, no, maybe not. I think it was just babble,” he said with probably too much force. “Too hopeful, I guess, ready to accept any sound as a word.”

“No, she looked right at you and said ‘dadda,’” Tomiko said. “And that’s great!”

She was smiling at him now, but there was the tiniest bit of sorrow in her eyes.

Rev heart went out to her, but at the same time, that heart was singing. His little girl had just said, “dadda!”

27

“That was a whole lot of nothing,” Rev said.

<There isn’t an easy answer. Whoever is doing this has covered their tracks, which, as Agent Wolf said, is indicative that this was well-conceived and planned. The saboteur is likely the person to put it into effect.>

Rev, Bundy, Bane, and Wolf had just spent three hours brainstorming how to trap the saboteur. As Punch had just said, whoever it was had covered their tracks. It had taken an extensive investigation by Wolf to reveal that the saboteur was using multiple nodes to implement the viruses that had corrupted the various pieces of equipment. Even were they to locate a physical node, that was simply a shield. It would not reveal who was behind the effort.

The sabotage of the Lamix—along with a few of the other cases—had been different. That had taken a physical act, and Bundy thought that they were going to have to rely on another such effort and catch the perpetrator in the act.

But that would rely on another attempt like that. No one knew for sure when the Lamix barrier had been sabotaged. It might have been at Bare Rock. And given the differences in technique, it might not have been done by the same person.

Rev was of the opinion that if they were going to catch the saboteur, they had to focus on the corruption. But that led to the question of how.

They could simply confiscate every computing instrument and subject them to a forensic examination. But that would be logistically difficult. Once wristcomps and terminals started to be grabbed, the saboteur would have the opportunity to either unleash a swarm of new attacks, destroy their comp, or both.

Whatever they did, they had to be more circumspect, and they really didn’t have the right resources for a task like this. The Galaxy Explorer’s main AI was pretty powerful, with far more computing power than Punch, for example. But it wasn’t set up to perform what was essentially anti-espionage. It could run troubleshooting, which was how Wolf got what little he had, but the efficacy of the AI to take proactive steps to stop it was lacking.

The ship had a sailor who wasn’t exactly a cyber-security expert but knew far more than any of the four of them. No one expected cyber-security to be much of an issue for the mission, after all. And unless they could come up with something soon, Captain Bane was going to bring her into the conversation, something Wolf was loathe to do.

Who better to corrupt the equipment than her if she knew that much? At least, that was his argument.

“The way I understand it is that if we do a forensic analysis on the affected equipment, we might find the virus string, right?”

<Which is what Agent Wolf has done for the printer and scrubber already.>

“But if we try to trace it back, well, the nodes will self-destruct, cutting off the route the commands took to get to the equipment in the first place.”

<Not exactly. These are random paths to the target. Your wristcomp, for example, could have been subverted to be a node. The strings for the previous attacks have already been broken. Agent Wolf was able to determine what had happened, not where or what the actual nodes were.>

“And that’s why we have to catch the sabotage in real-time, right? I’m sorry I’m being a little slow here. I’m just trying to make sure I understand the situation.”

<Yes, that’s what Agent Wolf said. We have to develop a system to detect the attack in progress and either stop it or trace it back to the source command.>

“And stopping the sabotage on that particular piece of equipment isn’t the issue. We can do that, but that will let the saboteur know we’re on to them and it does nothing to find out who it is.”

<Correct.>

“So, why can’t we just use a worm? That’s what I don’t understand. Put one in every damn piece of equipment on the ship. When the asshole tries again, the worm runs back and nails their ass.”

<Whatever worms we have at our disposal will be known. With the degree of sophistication this effort has shown, the system will have defenses. As soon as the worm hits the first node, the attacker will be alerted, and the string will be cut. The worm will never reach the source of the program.>

“You mean Omega doesn’t have some high-tech worm that can do the job? What about Titan? I’m not buying that.”

<Were you even listening? Agent Wolf said they had worms that should be undetected, but that with the present comms, something like that would be difficult to receive and then install, and that’s if the request was even approved.>

“Sorry, I must have missed that.”

Rev was pretty sure he’d missed a lot. Much of what was being discussed was way over his head. Even Bundy, who was one of the smartest people he knew, seemed to have a few problems absorbing what Wolf had said. He’d made a few suggestions, all of which Wolf had shot down.

And being naturally suspicious, Rev had to wonder if the Omega Division agent had an ulterior motive for doing that. He’d spent quite a bit of time during the meeting watching Wolf for signs that he was lying rather than listening to all of the techno-babble.

“OK, Punch. Answer me this. Do we need a worm to actually identify the source? That’s what worms do, right? Get to the hacker or whoever and lock them down, or at least screw up their comp.”

<That’s what most worms are used for, yes. But they could just install surveillance programs so the authorities could listen in. There are many different types of worms that can take a variety of actions.>

Which is sort of what Omega Division did to us.

But Rev had promised not to use their table talk unless absolutely necessary, so he didn’t point that out to Punch. His battle buddy already knew that.

<Your questions seem to indicate that you’ve got some sort of idea, but I can’t determine where you are going with this.>

“I’m not sure, Punch. There’s something tickling my mind.”

He paused a moment, hoping that whatever his subconscious might be thinking would suddenly burst to the fore.

No such luck.

“OK, let me try this line of thought. I’m going to ask you again. Do we really need a worm to actively tell us who the saboteur is? Or what terminal they used to input the attack?”

<We are trying to identify the saboteur. If that remains the mission, then yes, we would need to find a way to do that. And the actual terminal doesn’t matter. They could use any terminal that they had access to.>

Crap. I didn’t think of that.

“What if we could just send a message? Remember that sting that happened in Anastasia before the nox invasion? Where they told all the crooks that they’d won a new hover-scoot? Maybe we could do something like that and get this bastard to come to us?”

<Sending that kind of message would be blocked by the security steps the saboteur is using. And if it did go through, it would seem highly suspicious here on the ship.>

Rev sighed. “Help me here, Punch. I know there’s a way. I just can’t put my finger on it.”

<I have been searching past anti-espionage operations, and none would either be possible or have a high level of success without creating varying levels of risk.>

“Do we have to use a worm, then? What about something less invasive?”

<There are many other tools to use, some going back centuries. Most have far fewer capabilities than modern worms.>

Rev started to throw out another question when he stopped to focus on what Punch had just said.

“Wait a moment. You said before that the program our friend here is using would be aware of all the worms and stuff, right?”

<Probably not the specific ones, but certainly all the known types, at least the types we would have access to.>

“Well, what about the old ones? Like centuries ago?”

<There have been billions of programs created over the last millennia. It is doubtful that memory space has been used to catalog all of them. But any robust program, at least one that could get to the saboteur and then return to us with an identification, would be detected. It wouldn’t have to be recognized as a specific program.>

Things were gelling in his mind, and his warrior self perked up as if he was going into combat.

“You said ‘robust.’ What if it was tiny? A handful of bytes. Maybe enough to have a comp set a block on an incoming address?”

Rev held his breath, waiting for the answer. It took almost seven seconds, which was an eternity for an AI like Punch.

<There are a group of programs called parasitoids that were in occasional use, mostly by criminals, during the Twenty Third Century.>

“Parasitoids?”

<Named after a type of wasp. When a caterpillar bit into a leaf, chemicals were released into the air. A parasitoid wasp would note those and fly to the caterpillar and lay eggs in it. The eggs would hatch, and the wasp larvae would consume the caterpillar from the inside as they grew. The program worked in much the same way. Upon a programmed signal, they would react and send a small packet along the connection to the source unit.

<They fell out of use because the packets they could carry and remain undetected were small, and a simple thing like requiring a two-factor authorization to open a safe, for example, could defeat it.>

“How small? Could it send enough to have a comp set a block on an incoming address and not be detected?”

<Theoretically, yes. Something that small would be difficult to discern from normal interference, especially in a ship like the Galaxy Explorer. An AI would probably have to be looking specifically for it.>

Rev didn’t want to jump the gun, but a smile spread across his face.

“I think I have an idea.”

28

“Well, they’re both in tip-top shape,” Dr. Rima said, handing Willow back to Tomiko.

“What about their speaking?” Tomiko asked.

“They’re eleven months old, and you said they have three words? That’s normal.”

Luckily, the girls had quickly added “momma” to their repertoire, or Rev’s happiness would have been muted.

“And cruising?” Rev asked. “Aspen isn’t doing it yet.”

Dr. Rima shook her head. “Don’t be looking on the net and comparing your girls with others, or with each other, for that matter. All kids develop at their own pace. They are healthy, happy girls, and that’s what matters.”

She paused, then said, “Well . . .”

“Well, what?” Rev and Tomiko asked in unison.

“I don’t want to get personal, but are you planning on having any more? Babies, I mean.”

Rev and Tomiko exchanged guilty looks with each other. Pikachu had told Tomiko that once she was pregnant, her blocker had automatically turned itself off to protect the fetuses, and once the twins were born, it would have had to be actively turned back on—which hadn’t happened. They’d hoped that fact would have slipped by the powers that be, but evidently, Rima was well aware of that fact.

Tomiko said, “We sort of discussed it once or twice, but here, exiled to nowhere? Maybe it’s not the best idea. It’s hard enough juggling our schedules and taking care of them.”

“I told you I’m always here to babysit, but you should really consider the option. It’s important that children have peers to socialize with. It’s a vital part of their development.”

“They have each other,” Rev said.

“That’s not the same. It’s good, so don’t get me wrong. But they need other kids to play with. We’re herd animals, you know. We need each other.”

“We’ll have to think about it, Doctor.”

“I told you to call me Iris.”

“We’ll think about it, Iris,” Rev said. “But I don’t think the military is too happy with the situation, and you said they need to play with others. Where? This is a ship of war.”

“On a peaceful mission. And fuck the military command. What else can they do to you?”

Rev was taken aback at her word choice—not upset. He was a Marine, and he was used to worse. But he was surprised that an elderly doctor cursed like that.

“I swear, your loyalty, even after what they’ve done to you, is surprising. So what if you have another child? What are they going to do about it? Bring you back and put you on trial?”

Rev was feeling uncomfortable with her talk of loyalty. He was a Marine. How else would he be?

But the little devil on his shoulder was whispering in his ear that she was right. He could be loyal to his fellow Marines and still resent getting kicked to the curb by his own government.

“You two have to do what’s best for yourselves. For your girls, too.” She clapped her hands and said, “I don’t want to push you out, but I’ve got another appointment. Can I come over this evening and play with them?”

“Of course, Iris. You’re welcome anytime,” Tomiko said.

They all stood, and the doctor opened the door for them.

“Come on in,” she told the next patient.

Bundy stood, and his eyes widened when he saw the four of them stepping out.

“I didn’t know you had an appointment, sir.”

Rev saw all of the appointments for the sickbay each morning, and unless he somehow missed it, Bundy’s name wasn’t on the schedule.

“It’s not a real appointment. Just a follow-up on some tests.”

“Nothing serious, I hope,” Tomiko said.

Bundy waved a dismissive hand and asked, “Are the girls OK?”

“Healthy and happy, according to the good doctor,” Rev said.

“Colonel?” Dr. Rima asked while still holding the door open.

“Oh, sorry,” he told her, then, “I’ve got to go.”

“Sure,” Rev said as the door closed behind them.

They left sickbay and started back to their stateroom.

“What do you think?” Tomiko asked.

“About Bundy? Like he said. He was just getting some test results.”

“No, not about him. About getting the girls a little brother or sister.”

“Now?”

“Not here in the middle of the passageway. It might cause a bit of a scandal, don’t you think. I mean sometime.”

The two of them had briefly mentioned another child a few times, but Rev hadn’t thought the discussion was more than idle musings. But with Dr. Rima pushing them, maybe it was something to discuss in earnest.

“I’m open to the idea, Miko. But let’s not jump into it. It’s not just us and the girls. What we do will impact the entire ship.”

“Fair enough, Rev,” she said.

But Rev knew that wasn’t the end of it. She’d be saying much more later, and he needed to figure out what he thought about the possibility before then.

29

The another-baby conversation was pushed back by events—that and the work it took to raise Willow and Aspen, who were now walking and didn’t appreciate being kept in either the stateroom or the nursery.

There were two more planets to catalog, and both missions had been thankfully routine. There were no huge discoveries on either, which was fine with Rev. He’d had enough excitement for a while.

Rev was in his small office, going over the reports from NP-5572, their most recent mission, when there was a chime on his door.

“Enter!” he said, not bothering to check who it was.

“Ah, First Sergeant Mann. I heard you were coming over, but I figured you’d be at the CP. Here, take yourself a seat.”

The first sergeant took one of the two chairs in his office and pulled it around to face Rev. He hadn’t spoken with her since Forty-five. With their casualties, none of the Wahoo Marines had made either of the last two landings. Except for the karnans attached to the company, none of the MDS troops had, either. Both missions had been Galaxy Explorer personnel and Kanters.

“The lieutenant and the ship’s skipper are meeting with Colonel Bundy and Dr. Njuguna. I thought that as a professional courtesy, I’d come brief you. As one SNCO to another, I didn’t want you finding it out as an afterthought.”

That sure caught Rev’s attention. Nothing stated that way ever turned out to be something good.

“Go on.”

“The Wahoo is probably being recalled.”

“You’ve got five more months,” Rev said.

The first sergeant shrugged. “I know. But after Forty-five, and after Captain Paulliac . . . I told you she was connected, right?”

“Yes, you did, First Sergeant.”

Just before I jumped on your ass.

“Well, I don’t know if it’s because she was killed, or maybe it was just the total number of casualties. Or maybe something else. Who the hell am I to know what goes on in the puzzle palace. All I know is that the ship’s skipper was told to stand by to be recalled.”

OK . . . what does that mean for us?

“Are we getting a replacement?”

“Not that I know of. But maybe . . . hell, Sergeant Major, I’m not going to blow smoke up your ass. I was told not to expect one.”

Somehow, Rev had guessed that would be the answer. He’d get Punch to start searching what he could to see if there was any chatter that could have contributed to this.

He always knew the Wahoo was returning while they were not, but this somehow made it more real, and he was feeling more than a little abandoned all of a sudden.

“Well, thanks for telling me. I appreciate it.”

“Like I said, I’d rather have you hear it from me.”

Rev stood up to shake her hand and give her some boilerplate fair winds and following seas—he still didn’t like the woman—when Punch cut in.

<We’ve got a hit.>

“What hit? What are you . . . oh, shit. Really?”

Bundy, Bane, and Wolf had gone along with his plan, but it had been almost a month since they’d put “wasps” in every piece of equipment they could think of, and Rev had about given up hope.

<Yes, really.>

“Uh, First Sergeant, thanks for telling me, but something’s come up, and I’ve got to go.”

He ignored her outstretched hand and ran past her surprised face.

“Time for Part Two, Punch. Time for Part Two.”

* * *

“So, nothing’s changed?” Rev asked.

“Sergeant Major, I don’t have any living relatives. They were killed by the noxes. That’s why I’m here with you,” Jellyroll Leek said.

“Well, you’ve got the Marine Corps League as your beneficiary. That hasn’t changed, has it. You still want that?”

“Shit, Sergeant Major. If I buy the farm, I don’t give a shit who gets the death benefits. None of us even think the government will pay one. I mean, we’re out in the galaxy’s boonies. Who’s to know if something happens to us?”

This wasn’t the first time Rev had heard that today.

“Someone will know, Leek. But I’m checking you off as no change.”

“Why are they even bothering us with this paperwork?”

“We may be out here, but for the Corps, it’s business as usual, and that means paperwork. Well, that’s done. You’re dismissed.”

“That’s it?” the lance corporal asked.

“That’s it.”

Leek stood up as if he wanted to get out of there before Rev came up with another question. He was out the door and gone in a flash.

Rev looked at his schedule, and his anxiety level rose.

Please, by the Mother, no.

He sat there, biting his fingernails as he waited. There had been a few minutes added between appointments to keep people separated.

Right on time, there was chime from his door, and a wave of relief swept over him.

“Enter!”

Tiwari came in, and Rev pointed to the seat centered in front of his desk.

“I’ve just got a little paperwork here that needs to be checked.”

* * *

“So, we have a suspect?” Bundy asked Wolf.

The agent nodded, and Rev asked, “Harrison?”

Wolf shook his head. “No. Not him.”

Rev felt a little disappointed. He’d have put money down than it was him.

“Who is it, then?”

“Allyson LeRon,” Wolf said. “Part of the xeno team.”

Rev shook his head. He didn’t know her. That was going to change, though.

He was still riding high. He’d been gung-ho about his plan in the beginning, but he’d never been positive that it would work. Bundy and Wolf, the big brains, hadn’t come up with it. He had, and he was damn proud of it.

Oh, Wolf had suggested that word was passed that if you didn’t receive a message, you didn’t have an appointment. He said that was to allay the saboteur wondering why they hadn’t gotten an appointment. But the main plan was Rev’s.

When Rev had asked Punch if he remembered the police sting they’d watched on the holovid, that had been the police finding a way to lure their target into a trap. But what if they could figure out a way to keep the target from coming?

While there had been a lot of things that could go wrong, the idea had been fairly easy to put into motion. Punch had found an old parasitoid program he could use. A new net, disguised as one of the open channels, was created, and the “wasp” was programmed with one action. It would switch the target comp to block that channel.

Then, with Dr. Njuguna’s blessing—although she knew nothing about the sting—the ship went into an admin stand-down after entering bubble space. This was openly promulgated, with the caveat, as Wolf suggested, that if a person did not receive an appointment, they did not need one.

As no one ever wanted to deal with routine admin, they thought that if someone didn’t receive the message, they weren’t going to question it.

Only every person aboard the ship was given an appointment via the disguised open net channel. If one person didn’t show up, then that was the saboteur.

At least, that was the theory. There were too many ways that it wouldn’t work or fall apart, but all the ground troops and sailors had shown up for their appointments. One civilian hadn’t. So, they had their suspect.

“And I assume she’s on her way here now?” Captain Bane asked.

“She should be here in about eight or nine minutes.”

“OK, we know what to do,” Rev said.

The four of them were concerned that the saboteur could trigger a doomsday situation if caught, with multiple equipment failures. So far, the online attacks hadn’t had tremendous consequences, but that didn’t mean that something more serious hadn’t been set up.

At least, they were fairly confident that she was acting alone. She was the only one to miss her appointment.

Spirits were high. Well, for three of them. Bundy did not look as excited as the others.

“What’s the matter, Arie?” Captain Bane asked him. “You’re not looking forward to nabbing this asshole?”

It still seemed weird to hear Bundy called anything other than Bundy or Colonel. In all of his years, no one called him by his first name, much less the diminutive “Arie.”

“Oh, sorry. Of course, I’m looking forward to it. I’ve just got a few other things on my mind. No, this is great,” he said with what looked to Rev to be a forced smile.

Rev didn’t know what was up with his friend. But he was too hyped to dwell on it. This was as good as winning a battle. More so, maybe. While too many people had been lost on Forty-five, the sting itself was bloodless.

“Go ahead and get into position, Sergeant Major,” Wolf said. “I can see her approaching down the passage.”

Rev stepped forward a moment to look at the feed. He was confident that he could handle anyone on the ship, but it never hurt to get a visual on an opponent.

Allyson LeRon was not very notable. She was small—not Tomiko small, but judging by the doors she was passing, she was maybe 160 centimeters and 50 kilograms. What was a little odd was that her wristcomp was on her right wrist. It wasn’t that rare. Some people preferred it that way, but Rev was glad he saw it before she entered.

Wolf, in all his Machiavellian maneuvering, hadn’t bothered to tell Rev that. It had probably never registered with him that little detail was important.

He stepped to his position by the side of the door. Bundy moved up to the other side. Wolf was sitting at the desk, and Bane looked unsure for a moment before he sat down on one of the chairs behind the agent.

The doorbell chimed, and Wolf keyed it open. LeRon took one step inside, her leg breaking the plane, when something spooked her. She started to pull back and raise the wristcomp to her mouth. She was quick, but Rev was quicker.

He grabbed her wrist, and with a strong pull, yanked the comp free. Like all of them, the band itself was designed to break away under intense force as a safety measure. And as a hyper-augment, intense force was Rev’s bread and butter.

The jerk also pulled her into the office, and Bundy placed one hand over her mouth while bringing his other arm around her neck and forcing her over at the waist.

Rev tossed the comp to Wolf, who slipped it into a quiet bag. Impervious to sound or electromagnetic waves, the bag effectively neutralized the comp to pretty much anything. It might as well be in stasis.

With his primary task completed, Rev turned to help Bundy, but needlessly. His friend was managing the struggling woman just fine on his own.

“Close the door,” Wolf told him.

Bundy dragged LeRon forward to the desk, and Wolf asked her, “You’re not going anywhere, Ms. LeRon. If you agree to quit fighting us, I’ll ask Colonel Bundy to release you. Do you agree?”

Bundy’s hand was over her mouth and nose, but her eyes were glaring with hate. She fought for a few more moments, almost as if she just wanted to make a point, and then relaxed.

Rev stayed on the alert, though. He didn’t think she could do much against the four of them, but better safe than sorry.

“Are you going to stop fighting us?” Wolf asked.

She kept glaring, but finally, she nodded.

“Let her go,” the agent told Bundy.

But he didn’t release her. “Sergeant Major?”

Rev stepped up to her, and while Bundy retained his hold, he searched her for weapons. Finding none, he nodded at the colonel, who then released her.

The fact that Wolf hadn’t asked for her to be searched was just one more piece of evidence that the man was not a field agent. He’d been manning desks throughout his career.

Rev just filed that little fact away.

He moved to flank her, knowing his bulk and reputation would be a little unnerving. The woman was a traitor, and he had very little sympathy for her. He wanted her broken.

“Ms. LeRon, I can see by your reaction that you know why you are here.”

“I’m not saying anything. I know my rights.”

Wolf raised a single eyebrow impressively high. Rev had to give the man credit. Desk agent or not, the implied question combined with “Ah, how naive,” was masterfully done with that one small movement.

Then, in an almost apologetic tone, he said, “Rights don’t translate well outside of human space. And we’re a long, long ways from there.”

Her eyes flickered for a brief second, then she took a deep breath. “I’m still a human being, and that gives me rights wherever I am.”

“A human being who tried to sabotage our mission, putting fellow human lives at risk.”

Rev noted that he didn’t say she’d caused deaths or exactly how she was sabotaging them. None of them were sure that the shipboard equipment and the Lamix barrier were done by the same person, and Wolf’s wording left that up in the air.

She glared defiantly at him.

Wolf held up the quiet sack. “We are going to pull everything from here. I’m guessing that there will be enough that you’d be convicted of espionage and sabotage, even in the most liberal court. But up here, courts don’t matter. Either of those two men,” he said, tilting his head at Bane first, then Bundy, “can convict you as they deem fit.”

“I’m not military. I work for Dr. Njuguna.”

“From the evidence, you actually work for someone else, don’t you? But in matters of security, the authority rests with these two men, depending on where the act of sabotage took place. So, at the moment, Captain Bane holds your life in his hands.”

Wolf was saying all this in a calm, collected voice as if giving secondary school students a civics lecture. Rev had faced the man during an interrogation before, and the agent had been much more aggressive then.

The guy’s a chameleon.

“Then space me,” she snarled at Bane.

The woman was frightened. That was clear. But Rev had to admit she was putting up a brave face.

“That might very well be what I decide,” Bane said, as matter-of-factly as Wolf was being.

LeRon blanched at that as if she finally realized that she was in deep trouble.

You never thought you would be in danger yourself for your actions, did you?

“We will be able to pull up everything you did,” Wolf said.

We hope.

Wolf had previously said that that might not be possible, depending on the sophistication of the programming.

“But we’d like to know why you wanted to sabotage the mission.”

“Eat me,” she said in an attempt at bravado.

Rev gave her a little nudge with his elbow to remind her where she was. He detested the woman, but he had to give her a little bit of credit for standing up to them.

“I don’t understand your reticence. You’re ashamed of your beliefs?”

“I’m not ashamed of anything!” she shouted, taking a step toward Wolf until Rev grabbed her arm and jerked her back.

“You . . . you . . . !”

“Let her speak, Sergeant Major.”

Rev wasn’t trying to stop her from speaking, but in a deft move, Wolf had essentially given her permission to speak instead of demanding that she did.

It worked. She probably wanted to justify her actions, and now the floodgate was opened.

“You are traitors to humankind. All of you!” she said with the earnestness of the converted. “The galaxy is ours, not aliens’. And not abominations’.”

She gave Rev a pointed look at “abominations.”

Oh, you’re one of those.

“You consort with vermin, polluting our destiny. We should be expanding our territory, using it to glorify the Mother’s plan. We need to take what’s ours.”

“So why sabotage this mission? We’re exploring the galaxy.”

“You’re giving it to the rats and soulless!”

It took a moment for Rev to realize who she was referring to.

“You mean the lemmings and gennies?” he asked.

She spit on the deck.

“Satan’s minions!”

She was getting excited as if she believed she could convert the four of them to her cause.

“You watch. Pureblood humankind will take their rightful spot of dominion over the vermin. And once the galaxy is cleansed, the Sia will lead us higher.”

Even Wolf blinked at that. After her humanity-first screed, she was now invoking the Sia? This was getting into Children of Angels territory.

“So, you are a Child of Angels?” Wolf asked.

The scorn in her laugh was real. “The Angel Shits?”

Rev was surprised that she was using the Marines’ nickname for the Children.

“They are ridiculous idiots, jumping from one savior to another when it’s up to us to take action. It’s up to us to cleanse the galaxy. The Sia showed us the way when they burned the Naxli homeworld, but now we need to take the lesson and continue the purification.”

She didn’t seem to realize the inherent hypocrisy in her statement. Aliens are bad, but Sia are good. The Children of Angels are idiots for looking to the Sia, but she is doing the same thing.

Wolf let her rant for six more minutes. It was all more of the same. Aliens are bad. Hyper-augments are a blot on “purebloods.” “Soulless” Genesians are pure abominations. The Sia will elevate humankind in a cleansed galaxy.

It was bits and pieces of many of the current movements plaguing humanity. She sounded crazy, in Rev’s mind, like a madwoman. But a lone wolf madwoman couldn’t have pulled off what she did. There were people behind her. Capable people who could be a threat not just to the task force but to humanity at large.

Finally, Wolf stopped her. She clearly wanted to go on, but Rev nudged her again, and she fell silent. LeRon might not approve of Rev as a hyper-augment, but she feared what he could do.

“I’m going to start the examination,” Wolf said as he stood, the quiet bag in his hand. “We’ll brief Dr. Njuguna once that’s done.”

Rev was relieved to hear that. He didn’t really like that this entire operation was only known to the four of them.

“I’ll prepare the report and get your chops before it’s sent to New Mars.”

That was even better news. LeRon had rambled, but there was probably enough there to work out what group had planned that. Let the government decide what to do. Better yet, send it off to Titan and let them handle it.

“What about her?” Bundy asked.

It wasn’t really Wolf’s call, but Bundy was deferring to him.

“Keep her here for now, at least until I’ve run the analysis. Then we can decide if she needs to be spaced,” he said as he stepped out of the office.

LeRon jerked at that.

Wolf had said that on purpose, Rev knew, just to screw with her. It was one more bit of Omega torture, but at the moment, he didn’t care.

He pulled the woman by the arm around the desk and sat her in one of the chairs.

“I’ve got this if you two need to take off,” he told Bundy and Bane.

He waited until the two had left before he grabbed one of the other chairs, pulled it into position to face her, and sat.

She was looking uncomfortable to be left alone with the big bad IBHU, a minion of Satan, as she’d put it. She tentatively started to try and explain her beliefs again, but with much less confidence.

It didn’t matter how much confidence she had or hadn’t. Rev didn’t want to listen to it. He cut her off and told her to shut up.

He waited for a moment to make sure that she’d gotten the message before he raised his wristcomp and opened the connection, all the time staring at her.

“Miko, I know I’m supposed to watch the girls at fifteen hundred, but I won’t be able to make it. Can you get Kat to step in? I’m going to be occupied for a long while, I think.”

30

Wolf’s analysis was revealing. On the plus side, there was no indication that anyone else aboard the ship was involved. On the minus side, there wasn’t any evidence that she was involved with the sabotage of the barrier. And there were over forty more attacks lined up in her wristcomp, several that would result in catastrophic and life-threatening damage. Those had been chambered and were ready to go.

LeRon, who was now detained in a makeshift brig, denied that they had been on a dead man’s trigger that she’d planned to send if she was captured. Rev didn’t believe her. He was sure that she’d been trying to give the command before he and Bundy had restrained her.

Dr. Njuguna was briefed. Bundy said she’d been angry that she’d been kept out of the loop—and angrier that it had been one of her people who’d been the saboteur. She’d been the one to insist on building a brig and putting her in it. Rev wasn’t sure Bane would really have spaced her, but with Njuguna on the warpath, it had probably been easier just to agree with her demands.

The other ships, except for the Wahoo, were not informed. Captain Bane’s decision was based on the fact that none of the other ships had reported the same sort of equipment corruption incidents. Rev wasn’t sure he agreed with that, but now that LeRon was caught, the issue had swept past him. He retreated to his responsibilities as both sergeant major and father.

The girls were growing like weeds. Rev still couldn’t tell them apart just by looking at them. Tomiko thought that was hilarious. She also thought it was hilarious to switch ribbons or buttons that Rev had put on them to keep them straight.

But he could tell them apart by their actions. They weren’t even a year old, but they had completely different personalities. Willow was the brave one, the fearless girl with a mind of her own and a personality to match. Aspen was the cuddler, the lover, the girl who would toddle over to Willow when her sister was crying and give her a toy or a hug.

Rev had very little experience with children, but he’d assumed that if the girls were identical, then their personalities would be as well. He had no idea how they would diverge further as they grew, but he looked forward to finding out, battle death or the rot allowing.

It wasn’t just Rev getting back to the routine. The fight against the buffalo had depleted the ranks. Only the Genesians seemed to have remained unscathed. But militaries adapted, and units were reshuffled.

There was also more cooperation between the ships and ground forces. The fight—and the losses—had brought them closer together. The fate of the Wahoo was still up in the air, but Bundy seemed to think their early recall was a done deal. And the Loup-Garou was approaching its return date as well.

Today was an example of not so much cooperation but of camaraderie. They’d just completed their third planet since the buffalos, and with it being the MDS Charter Day, the various leaders thought that a picnic was in order.

The only ship large enough to host even a percentage of the personnel was the Galaxy Explorer, so it was chosen as the “steel beach.”

Not everyone could come, of course. But it looked like about 60 percent of the task force’s personnel would be on the ship. And as the host, the crew was going all out, and the fabricators were working non-stop to put out a feast that would make everyone proud.

Not just food, but booze was authorized as well.

Rev was getting a little excited. Anything to break the routine was welcomed. And more than that, this was going to be the girls’ debut, in a way. Their presentation to society.

“Come on Kat. Let’s go.”

Tomiko was with Senior Chief Ralston honchoing the final preparations and welcoming the arrivals, so Kat had stepped in to help with the girls.

They looked adorable in their matching rainbow unicorn suits, presents from Rima and Teo. Rev wasn’t sure they knew yet what a unicorn was, but they seemed happy enough with the colors and textures.

“Just one more second. Miko will kill me if they show up with their hair like this.”

Rev didn’t see anything wrong with their hair. You couldn’t even see much of it with the unicorn head hoods pulled up over them, but he stood there while his sister ran a brush through the hair and replaced the hood.

“OK, we’ve got their bottles and their stuffed puppies. Extra diapers, too,” Kat said, looking at the pack. She slung it to her back and said, “I think we’re ready.”

“Finally,” Rev said.

He knelt and picked up a girl in each arm, settling them in the crook. He knew Kat probably wanted to carry one of them, but he was their father, and he wanted to make an entrance.

Which he did. They were stopped by a dozen people as they made their way to the party. And once they reached it, they were mobbed by people wanting selfies with them. The girls were rock stars.

The bulkhead between Bay 1 and 2 had been retracted, and the shuttles were being used to bring people over, creating a huge space for the people to mingle and dance. But Rev, Kat, and the girls barely made it inside with all the people. Before long, he lost the girls to Rima, Teo, Strap, Kentik, and the rest. And when Tomiko came over, he was almost shoved out of the picture.

“Luckily, they take after their mother,” Wolf said, coming up behind him.

“You’ve got that right. Can you imagine going through life looking like me?”

“A fate worse than death.”

Rev chuckled. He still didn’t trust the man, but for the moment, they were allies. And that was good enough.

“There’s a lot of people here,” Rev said.

“Not just people.”

Wolf pointed to the far side where a hundred or so Kanters were playing some weird Kanter game. Or maybe a dance. With them, who knew?

“And our genny friends,” Rev said.

Most of the Genesians were going to remain on their ship, but they’d sent over a contingent of twenty-five to pay their respects. Rev still didn’t quite understand how they fit into the task force. They sent a team down to every planet, but it was more in parallel to the main effort instead of being part of it.

“I’m surprised they came,” he added. “They don’t seem to consider themselves part of the task force.”

“They’re not. Not really,” Wolf said.

“Then why come with us? What’s their purpose?”

“They’re trying to find a home, Sergeant Major. They’re tagging along using us for security while they search.”

“But . . .” he started before trailing off.

What the agent said made sense. Rev and the other hyper-augments had no choice. They’d been exiled. But the Genesians had wanted to come. Maybe they knew they wouldn’t be welcomed anywhere in human space.

“Can they survive with fewer than two thousand of them? I would think you would need more diversity to be a viable population.”

“Wasn’t it you who said that the human race was down to seven hundred people at one time? Anyway, that’s not my worry. They can live or die out as they will.

A loud cheer broke out from the front of the bay. Wolf and Rev turned to see a large group of MDS soldiers already a few sheets to the wind. They had bottles in their hands, not the cups the crew put out for the beer and cider.

“Have you had Donat?” he asked Wolf.

“I’ve heard of it. Never tried it before.”

“Come with me.”

He gave one last glance to where the girls were being passed around like cherished toys, then made his way to the soldiers with the agent in tow.

“That’s not Donat, is it?” he asked them.

“You know about Donat?” one of the soldiers asked.

“Shit. I was drinking that piss-water before any of you Mad Puppies were born.”

That cracked them up, and they started their Mad Dog barking. An over-sergeant handed over a bottle, and Rev took a huge swig.

Too huge. The fire almost burnt out his throat, and he struggled not to break out in a coughing fit.

The soldiers cheered, and he passed the bottle to Wolf. The agent took a tentative swallow, then his face broke out into a grin, and he took a larger one.

You’re more of a man than I am, Wolfie.

Another soldier, this one a corporal, pushed his way through to them. “Don’t drink that Blue Fire shit. You’ve got to try Hades Touch, from my hometown.”

Rev couldn’t refuse a corporal, so he tilted it up and downed a swallow. It burned as bad as the other, but the warmth began to spread. So did the light-headedness.

Watch out, Reverent. You can’t get drunk this early.

He passed the bottle to Wolf and was about to beg off when his wristcomp buzzed. It was Bundy, asking to see him.

Another bottle was thrust at him, but he pointed to his comp and said, “I’m being paged. But keep a bottle for me for later.

He abandoned Wolf, who didn’t seem to mind as he accepted another bottle, and made his way back to Tomiko and the girls.

“Are you drunk?” she asked him. “Already?”

“I just had a couple of shots with the Mad Dogs. Bundy wants me, so I need to find out what’s going on.”

“Bundy? Are we, you know?” she asked in her professional voice.

One of the hesitations about putting on the picnic was that it was concentrating a large percentage of their personnel in one place. But they’d been in the system for five days, and there was no sign of any life. And all of the AIs were scanning for any internal threat.

“Bane’s over there, so if something was up, he wouldn’t have a beer in his hand. I’ll see what he wants.”

“He’s been acting weird lately,” Tomiko said. “He might not feel like coming to this, but drag him, OK? Maybe it’ll break him out of his funk.”

“I will,” he said and leaned in to kiss her.

She recoiled in horror, though. “A couple of shots? Of what? Lava? You’re burning my face!”

“Donat,” he said with a laugh and kissed her anyway.

The smell of grilled meats was filling the place, and his stomach growled. He wanted to be there when the food was served, so he hurried to the aft door and into the corridor. He had to double back and get to the C-deck to get to officer’s country.

The Donat was now a warm afterthought, and he was in a pretty good mood when he rapped on the hatch.

“Is that you, Rev? Come in.”

Bundy was in his full uniform. Captain Bane had authorized civilian clothes or PT gear for the picnic, and some had taken that to the extreme with costumes, so his friend looked a little out of place.

“What’s up, sir?”

“Take a seat, please.”

Well, this doesn’t sound good. He can’t still be pissed at me.

Bundy’s stateroom was larger than Rev and Tomiko’s, and it had a full-sized desk, a couch, and two chairs. Bundy was in one, and Rev took the other, which was facing his.

When Bundy didn’t speak right away, Rev asked, “You wanted to see me?”

Bundy opened his mouth to say something, then closed it again. He gritted his teeth and pursed his lips.

“Just say whatever you wanted to say, sir.”

And get it over with so I can get back to the party.

He took one more breath and then said, “I wanted to tell you personally, before it became public knowledge.”

What is public knowledge?

“So, I’m just going to say it. I’ve got the rot.”

“Wha . . . what?”

“I’ve got the rot. I’m going to die.”

“But you . . . you’re not a hyper-augment.”

Bundy scowled. “In case you don’t realize it, not everything revolves around you IBHUs. Cali Hu died of the rot three years after boot camp.”

<Shit statement, Rev.>

Rev didn’t need Punch to tell them that, and he felt horrible.

“I’m sorry. I know that. I just thought that we . . . crap, I mean, it should be one of us first.”

The scowl softened, and he said, “I was sixty-seven when I got my augments. That’s a risk factor.”

Rev just sat there for a moment, examining his fingernails as if they held the secret to life.

“What are your PPCAs?” he asked.

“One-fifty-three.”

Rev winced. His own numbers were only 129, and those were bad enough.

“How long have you known?”

“Since before Forty-five. But Dr. Rima wanted to get some subsequent numbers over 45 days to see the trends. And it’s clear now.”

Rev didn’t know what to say. He’d been so concerned about his own rising numbers and feeling a little sorry for himself, never thinking that anyone else might be going through the same thing. Or in this case, even worse.

“So, what now?” Rev asked.

“Now, nothing. I go on until I can’t anymore.”

“You mean, you’re going to stay here?”

“I signed on for the duration.”

“Bullshit, Bundy. You signed on for the duration when you thought it would be longer.”

That might be a low blow, but it was true.

“You aren’t an exile. You can go back. Medical science, it’s improved since Cali died. You might still have many long years left.”

“I might not be an exile, but this is my billet. My last billet. I knew that when I accepted the orders.”

“Now you’re being stupid, Bundy. And I say that with no due respect. This changes things. Get on the Wahoo when it goes back. Get medical care. Didn’t you tell me that you’d like to meet your grandchildren?”

Bundy gave a grudging nod. For as close as he’d been to Bundy over the years, he never really knew what was going on between him and his two kids. When his wife died, something had happened to create some sort of breach between them.

“Go meet the grandkids.”

“No, I’m staying here,” he said.

“No, you’re not. I’ll take it up with the commandant if I have to. You know I can get through to her.”

Rev wasn’t sure he still had any residual clout left, but it didn’t hurt to say it.

“Even if I told you I wanted to stay?”

Rev pulled his chair closer and put a hand on one of Bundy’s knees.

“You are my closest friend, Bundy. I should have realized that something was wrong. And I don’t want to lose you. Giving up, that’s not you. You’re a fighter. Remember Mount Motherfucker?”

A smile crossed his friend’s face. “Sure do. I never would have made it up without you.”

“It was you that made it up, though. You wouldn’t quit. So, why quit now?”

“It’s the rot, Rev. You can’t beat that.”

“Oh, wah, wah, wah. Cry me a river, Bundy.”

His friend’s eyes opened in shock.

“I’m right fucking behind you. My numbers are one-twenty-nine.”

His eyes widened even further.

“I didn’t realize that. I’m sorry, Rev.”

“So, if you give up and die, what am I supposed to do? What’s gonna happen to my girls?”

“You’ve still got more time, Rev.”

“Yeah. A year? Two? No, you’re my commanding officer, and you’re gonna show me the way. You’re gonna get on the damn Wahoo, and you’re gonna go back and get care. Then, you’re gonna keep me updated and tell me your progress. You hear me?”

Bundy seemed shocked at the turn the discussion had just taken.

“Anything else, and it’s pure selfishness. Show me how to fight it. If not for me, then for the girls.”

Bundy was confused. “Let me . . . think about it, OK?”

“You’re not thinking about anything. I’m telling you what you’re gonna do. Period.”

Bundy sat there deep in thought. Rev knew he’d been feeling sorry for himself. He knew because he’d been doing the same thing. And Bundy hadn’t been thinking clearly.

The right thing for him to do was to get back and get medical care. Rev didn’t know how much longer that would give him, but if he could patch things up with his kids and finally meet his grandkids, then it would be worth it.

“We need to get Miko and convince him, Punch.”

<Is life that valuable to go against his wishes?>

“Damn right it is. And he doesn’t even know his wishes. He’s still in shock and trying to absorb the diagnosis.”

He stood, took Bundy’s hand, and dragged him to his feet.

“Right now, you’re coming with me to the party.”

“I don’t know, Rev. I’m not really up for it,” he said, pulling back from Rev’s steel grip.

“I don’t care if you’re up for it or not. You’re the company’s commanding officer, and they need to see you there.”

Bundy didn’t seem convinced.

“Have you had Donat?” Rev asked.

“Donat? What’s that?”

“You need to climb out from under that rock sometime. Donat. The Mad Dog’s national drink. And a bunch of the Strike Eagle Mad Dogs brought some over. So, totally to show respect to our valued allies, you’re gonna come with me and partake. Partake a lot.”

“And then?”

“Well, after you drink that stuff, if you’re still standing, you’re gonna wish the rot had already taken you.”

* * *

“Do you think he’ll leave?” Tomiko asked.

“I don’t know. He can be a stubborn bastard.”

He reached over and put his hand on Willow’s leg. The little girl didn’t wake and slumbered on.

The juxtaposition between her and Bundy wasn’t lost on him. Here was new life, new hope. And Bundy was on the other end of the journey, ready to step out of this mortal coil.

Rev had dragged Bundy to the party. And he’d gotten him drunk. Hopefully, that had allowed his friend to forget about his future for a few precious hours.

Bundy’s rot revelation wrecked the party for him, though. His mind was latched onto death. Not just Bundy’s or his, but all of the Marines and soldiers who’d died under his watch. Even the party itself served to highlight death. Too many of them had been lost to the horns and under the feet of the buffalo. The over-the-top celebration was to push back the sorrow of lost comrades while taking joy in the simple fact that they were alive.

For now.

Tomiko had quickly seen that something was wrong but he told her to wait until after the party finally broke up and people made their way back to their ships to get ready for the next mission.

It wasn’t until the girls were asleep and Kat had left that he sat down and broke the news to her.

She’d taken it better than he had. She was calmer and looking at the bigger picture.

“He may be stubborn, but at some point, he’ll be incapacitated and won’t be able to function as our commander.”

“That’s still off a ways.”

“Cali was quick, Rev. Two months. The onslaught is merciful in that way.”

“We need to get him on the Wahoo.”

Tomiko sighed and picked up Aspen, holding the sleeping girl against her chest.

“You’ll be in command, you know.”

“Me? I’m not an officer.”

She raised her eyes as if he was stupid.

“You think they’ll send out an officer to take command? If they’re not going to replace the Wahoo? Please. They don’t care what happens to us. Out of sight, out of mind. No, you’ll be in command. They may give you a commission to make it all neat and tidy, but it’ll be you.”

“I’m too set in my ways to start officering,” he said with a scowl.

“OK. So, you’ll be a sergeant major, commanding. No big deal. All of this will be on your shoulders.”

In the shock of Bundy’s news, he hadn’t thought about the chain of command, but as much as he didn’t like it, he knew she was right. And he wasn’t sure what he thought of it.

Part of him wanted to rise to the challenge, but another part of him liked the established SOP for the Marines. SNCOs might run the Corps, but officers commanded. They were two separate things.

And while he knew this wasn’t accurate, there was a little bit of elitism in his personal view. SNCOs earned their positions. Officers, especially junior officers, were given their positions in hopes that they’d grow into them.

Some did, like Bundy. Some didn’t, like a host of them Rev had served with.

If he was going to be given the command, he knew he was going to have to change, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to do that.

“Let’s not jump the gun, Miko. We don’t know—”

There was a chime from the door, and Miko said, “Enter.”

The door whisked open to reveal Tsao and Strap outside. “Do you two have a moment?”

Rev still wanted to have this conversation with Tomiko and hash things out, but she said, “Sure. Grab a seat.”

They sat down on the couch together, a little closer than necessary, maybe.

“What do you got?” Rev asked. “Are we ready for departure tomorrow?”

“We’ll be ready before we break orbit,” Strap said.

“But before we get into all the hustle of leaving the system, we want to let you know something,” Tsao said.

Which was hauntingly similar to what Bundy had said before he told Rev about his rot. Rev felt a strong moment of misgiving.

Strap and Tsao turned to look at each other, and their hands snaked together.

“We’re pregnant!” they said in unison.

Rev was gobsmacked. His brain didn’t register what they’d just said.

“But the blockers?” Tomiko said. “They shouldn’t have . . . Iris!”

Tsao nodded.

“Rima? Dr. Rima?” Rev asked. “What are you talking about?”

“Who’s always talking about babies, Rev? Who’s always telling us we need another kid for the girls? Who keeps saying that having children is necessary for people like us to keep our sanity? It’s Iris Rima, that’s who. And that’s who, coincidently, had the medical skill to remove the blockers.”

“But that’s against the regulations . . .” he started to say, but Tomiko was off their bunk to give Tsao a hug.

“Congratulations, girl!”

“Hey, I’m part of this, too,” Strap said with a laugh.

“Come here, Daddy,” Tomiko said as she enveloped him as well.

Rev didn’t think he was dense, but it took a moment for it to sink in. Across from him, Tsao was beaming. She looked positively radiant.

He jumped up to give Tsao a hug as well, then slapped Strap across the shoulders, a slap that morphed into a hug.

“When did this happen?”

“After Sixty-six. Dr. Rima took out the blocker, and well . . . real quick after that,” Strap said.

“Well, that’s because we tried about a hundred times over the next week,” Tsao said with a laugh that was quickly joined by Tomiko’s.

Strap just blushed.

“Dr. Rima told us to wait until the twelve-week mark to tell anyone. That’s tomorrow, but after the party, it just seemed like the right time.”

“And that’s why you weren’t drinking, Tum,” Tomiko said. “I should have guessed.”

She looked over at the still-sleeping babies and said, “Girls, you’re going to have a playmate soon!”

Tsao and Strap exchanged glances, and Tsao gave a slight nod.

“Not just one, Miko.”

“What, you’re having twins, too?” she squealed.

“Oh, by the Mother, no!” Tsao protested. “It’s that we’re not the only ones. There’s a lot more.”

“How many more, Tum?” Rev asked as a sense of foreboding threatened to sweep over him.

“I don’t know for sure. Privacy rules and all that, you know. But at least a dozen. More coming, I’m sure. Dr. Rima’s on a mission, and after you and Miko, well, there were and still are a lot of volunteers.”

“Marines? Who else?”

“I don’t know the names. But yes, Marines. Sailors and civilians.”

Getting hit with this just hours after Bundy was a lot to take. And if he was going to be in command, this was going to throw a big wrinkle into things.

Apprehensive didn’t come close to what he was feeling.

Tomiko came back to him and hung on his arm. “Isn’t this great?” she said with a huge smile plastered across her face. “We can have schools. The girls will have other children to play with.”

The joy on her face was only matched by that on Tsao’s and Strap. Rev turned to look at Willow and Aspen.

They were his treasures, and they’d given him the greatest gift he could have.

Fatherhood.

And the apprehension was swept away.

The human condition was to have children. It had always been that way. Whatever changes they were going to enact wouldn’t be a problem.

And more than that. While their future might have been a dead end before, now they had something much, much better.

They had hope.

* * *

Amazon won’t always tell you about the next release. To stay updated on this series, be sure to sign up for our spam-free email list at jnchaney.com.

Rev will return in INTO THE VOID, available on Amazon.

GLOSSARY

AGMS: Anti-G Straining Maneuvers

AIW: Association of Independent Worlds

AO: Area of Operations

ASAP: As Soon As Possible

BC: the digital currency for most nations

BFG: generic term for “Big Fucking Gun”

BIPAC: A heavy weapon used by MDS soldiers

BOCT: Benevolent Order of Crystal Technicians

Breel: ally to humans. Vegetative-type race. Called “ents.”

Bronze Nova: the third-highest medal in the Union military

CASEVAC: Casualty Evacuation

CCR-32 Didactic Interface: the AI implanted into the Marines’ heads.

Cerrocrete: a very strong futuristic concrete

CG: Commanding General

CO: Commanding Officer

COH: Congress of Humanity, the highest authority of mankind

Corolla Wars: a series of wars approximately 200 years before the events in these books. The wars pitted humans against several android and augmented groups.

CP: Command Post

CST: Combat Simulation Trainer

Camp Seong-Matris: One of the three camps on Eceladus housing the Home Guard’s Second Brigade

D-5 Cord: an explosive-saturated cord

Dalit: residents of Samara. They came from the Dalit caste, sometimes known as the “Untouchables.”

DC/Direct Combat: Marines such as infantry, recon mech combat engineers, who will face the enemy in direct combat.

Deca: an MDS unit about the size of a battalion

Deimers: a group of androids dedicated to eliminating humans. Defeated during the Corolla Wars

DI: Drill Instructor

Dykstra: a heavy sniper rifle

E-Club: Enlisted Club where the lowest three ranks can hang out, drink, and eat.

ECR: Effective Casualty Radius. The radius from a detonation within which will produce 50% casualties

EMP: Electro-magnetic Pulse. Will shut down all electronics within range

EOE: End of Enlistment

ETA: Estimated Time of Arrival

Eunuch Regiments: an extreme group an opponent of humanity during the Corolla Wars

EVA: Extravehicular Activity

FEPM-K: A combined electromagnetic pulse shell that is followed by a kinetic missile.

Frag Order/FRAGO: Fragmentary Order. A modified and abbreviated version of an operation order to modify or issue a follow-on mission

FSCL: Fire Support Coordination Line. A control measure beyond which fires into the area must be coordinated.

FTL: Faster Than Light, a starship drive

G-Loc: G-force induced loss of consciousness

Genesians: human/machine constructs and opponent during the Corolla Wars

Gnista: a formalized Naxli method of combat by champion

Gold Nova: the second highest medal in the Union military forces

Groundpounders: slang for infantry

HE: High Explosive

Hellborer: a man-packed beamer

Hiver: nickname for Naxli-subjugated race

Host: the military arm of the Frisian Mantle, a sometime ally/enemy of the Perseus Union

Hreetz: derogatory Naxli term roughly akin to coward

HSPEY: High Speed Planetary Extraction System

IBHU: Integrated Bionic Hopological Unit

Kanter: a small, furry, human ally. They attack in mass. Called “lemmings.”

Karnan: Nickname for the hyper-augmented soldiers from the MDS

KIA: Killed in Action

Leaches: Military slang for civilians

LOD: Line of Departure

LZ: Landing Zone

M-102 Nellis: the Marine Corps’ main sniper rifle

M-103: a 40mm grenade launcher attachment to the M-49 and M-51

M-133: a heavy weapon fired by mech Marines

M-305 Jackhammer: a crew-served 40mm grenade launcher

M-49 Assault Rifle: the standard weapon of the Union Marines. It fires a 2mm high-velocity dart.

M-51: a modified version of the M-49. Bigger barrel to fire a heavier dart that has tiny warheads in the tip that can help burn through body armor.

MF-30: a standard issue handgun

MM-37 Mantis II: a man-packed launcher for the Mantis II missile

MDS: Manifest Destiny Sphere

MilDes: Military Designator

MilDes Ninety-nine/Ninety-nine: essentially indentured servants in uniform

MMCS: Marine Mechanical Combat Suit

MoV: Medal of Valor, a Home Guard award. Runs from third class to first class.

MP: Military Police

MPT: Military Placement Test

Na: Hinglish word often tacked onto the end of a sentence

Naxli: “shifter” race and enemy of humankind. Called “nox” by Marines and “gaunts” by most other humans.

NCO: Non-commissioned Officer. The middle two ranks of enlisted Marines

NCOIC: Non-commissioned Officer in Charge

Niklith: human ally. Fierce fighter with electrogenesis capability. Nicknamed “scorps.”

NM: Neuro-mapping

Nox: nickname for Naxli

NVD: Night Vision Device

OBE: Overcome By Events

Omega Division/OD: the secret police and spy agency of the Union

OP: Observation Post

Optisight: a flexible optical tube

Order of Saint Bome: a fraternal/political elite organization within the MDS military

PAL-3: Personal Armor, Light 3: the standard body armor for an infantry Marine

PAL-5: Personal Armor, Light 5. The standard body armor of recon Marines and Raiders.

PAL-H: new and improved heavier PAL

PAL-HX: PAL-H version designed for IBHU Marines

Paladin: a large Centaur heavy mech unit, similar to a light tank

PFC: Private First Class

Phoenix MG-3 Incendiary Mine: a small grenade that can burn through most substances

Plastiderm: a synthetic skin that is used in medical procedures

PN: Platinum Nova the highest military award in the Perseus Union military

POO: Point of Origin. From where an incoming round was fired.

Poolee: someone who is committed to the Corps but who is not yet been sworn in as a recruit

PQ: Personality Quotient. Used to determine the human characteristics of some AIs

PS-40 “Viber:” an unpowered ground sensor

PUNS: Perseus Union Naval Ship

Raider: part of Recon, but with more combat-focused missions instead of surveillance

Recon: Reconnaissance Marine

Riever: a smaller Centaur mech unit, similar to a Marine Raider or reconnaissance Marine.

Rodan: Mezame hyperaugment. Can fly.

RP: Rally Point

S-1: staff section that deals with administrative matters.

S-2: staff section that deals with intelligence

S-3: staff section that deals with operations

S-4: staff section that deals with logistics

S-5: staff section that deals with technology and information

Safe Harbor: Rev’s homeworld

Secdrones: Security drones used by the police

SFC: Sergeant First Class, the equal to a Marine gunnery sergeant

Shrike: Union Navy fighter aircraft, capable of atmospheric and vacuum operations

Sia: etheral, floating race. Human ally. Called “singers.”

SNCO: Staff Non-commissioned Officer. The highest three ranks among enlisted Marines.

SOP: Standard Operating Procedure

Syksky: a deep-fried bread stuffed with spiced meat and vegetables

T/E: Table of Equipment. This is the document that identifies all the equipment of a unit.

T/O: Table of Organization. This is the document that identifies all the members of a unit.

Toan: human ally. Not very militaristic, but technologically advanced. Nicknamed “radishes.”

Toanphone: nickname for a commercial Toan-made communicator that is resistant to Naxli jamming

Toh: Hinglish word without a real meaning.

Torinth Accords: a treaty governing the rules of war

VGW: Veterans of Galactic Wars

Uauii: tripedal human ally. Called “clickers.”

WIA: Wounded in Action

Weislen’s Syndrome: A cancer-like disease affecting those who have had their bodies augmented. Known as the “rot.”

XM-554: a more powerful missile designed to have more punch

XO: Executive Officer, the #2 person in the unit.

Yellowjacket: a shoulder-launched missile

Yellowshirt: a Navy sailor charged with moving people and goods around a flight line.

NATIONS, INDEPENDENT WORLDS, AND POLITICAL ENTITIES WITHIN THE CONGRESS OF HUMANITY

Bugatti’s World

Association of Independent Worlds

Enclave of Humanity (Home System)

Federation of Independent States

Freedom Confederation

Frisian Mantle

Hégémonie Liberté

Manifest Destiny Sphere

Mezame Concordate

Nowhere

Osnovnoy Alyanz

Paxus

Perseus Union

Rigel Cluster

Samsara

Sunberry Group

Synergy Alliance

Tau Ceti

Tigana 3

CAST OF CHARACTERS

Second Brigade, Congress of Humanity Home Guard

Colonel Levin-Tell

Second Battalion

Lieutenant Colonel Semes

Major Djanka

Fox Company

Major Nona Yves

First Sergeant Glorious Weinstein

Corporal White

First Platoon

Second Lieutenant Aristotle Bundy

Master Sergeant Tina Barber

First Squad, First Platoon

1st Squad SFC Delila Gamay (Rigel Cluster Legion)

Staff Sergeant Ting-a-ling Tjivyrtzlin (Frisian Mantle)

Staff Sergeant Reverent Pelletier (Safe Harbor, Perseus Union)

Sergeant Refever Lines (Nowhere)

Sergeant Mylar Racine-Okan

Corporal Charles Akkeke (Millsap, AIW)

Corporal Manuela Acevedo

Corporal Taula La’ei (Uafua)

Corporal Henri Larson

PFC Jasmine Wahid (Sirocco)

PFC Jebediah Gingham (Moxigill)

PFC Uram Keung

Second Squad

SFC Lev Arsenyev (Osnovnoy Alyanz)

Staff Sergeant Lincoln Kvat (MDS)

Staff Sergeant Tomiko Reiser (Safe Harbor, Perseus Union Marine)

Staff Sergeant Rice Unifora (Paxus)

Sergeant Tims

PFC Suki Tun

Third Squad

SFC Moba

Staff Sergeant “Dog” San Martin

Staff Sergeant Toshi Gant (Mezame, Hégémonie Liberté)

Sergeant Moli Pinkerton (Nowhere, AIW)

Second Platoon

Captain Chokra (Revelation)

Master Sergeant Reston Fitzwater

Staff Sergeant Liam Patrice

Sergeant Crocker (Barclay)

PFC Minnie Rasta

Lance Corporal Ethereal Randigold (Safe Harbor, Perseus Union)

Sergeant Crocker (Barclay)

Staff Sergeant Rice Unifora (Paxus)

Corporal Wymont (MDS)

Third Platoon

Sergeant Tesler Sign of Respect (Rebirth, Perseus Union)

Other Notable Military Personnel

General Ibsen: Commanding General of the Home Guard (Planters)

Brigadier General Platte: senior Perseus Union Marine on Enceladus

Major Liege: Senior IBHU Marine in the Home Guard

Sergeant Major Pute (MDS) Third Battalion’s sergeant major

First Lieutenant Milei Macek: Golf Company. Senior IBHU Marine in Second of the Chief Wimox: (Paxus) Shuttle pilot

Cali Hu (Safe Harbor) Augmented Marine who contracts the rot

Yancey Del Rio (Safe Harbor) Marine, a member of Rev’s posse

Sergeant Tumeric Tsao (Safe Harbor) IBHU Marine assigned to Titan, Platinum Nova holder.

Notable Civilians

Daryll Begay (Safe Harbor, Perseus Union) Head Sieben technician for the IBHU on Enceladus

Zacharia Filmore (Perseus Union) Sieben technician for the IBHU

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

In remembrance of Micky Cocker, a great beta reader and a true friend to Jonathan and his family. She was a joy to all and a shining light that was snuffed out too early.

Kelly O'Donnell

James Caplan

Christie Strahler

Neil Rubenking

Tracy Beattie

Sharon Mendez

Mike Belanger

Eliss Wiltshire

Matthew Lewis Titus

Bill and Konnie Kampfer

Geoffrey Morse

Joshua Hopkins

Mike Belanger

Elissa Wiltshire

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ABOUT THE AUTHORS

J. N. Chaney is a two time Dragon Award nominee and USA Today Bestselling author, has a Master’s of Fine Arts in Creative Writing, and fancies himself quite the Super Mario Bros. fan. He migrates often, but was last seen in Las Vegas, NV. Any sightings should be reported, as they are rare.

Chaney is best known for his Renegade Star series, the Variant Saga, the Messenger series, and Ruins of the Galaxy. For more on his releases, go to www.jnchaney.com.

* * *

Jonathan P. Brazee is a retired Marine colonel now living in Colorado Springs with his wife Kiwi and twin baby girls, Danika Dawn and Darika Marie. He was born in Oakland, CA, but has lived throughout the US and the world, and has traveled to over 100 countries.

He has more than eighty-five titles to his name in six different languages. He is a two-time Nebula Award and two-time Dragon Award finalist as well as a USA Today bestseller. Find out more by visiting his website at http://jonathanbrazee.com.