He didn’t have time for this. It was only a matter of time before the Fuerconese landed troops. It surprised him that they hadn’t already. He’d even begun thinking he might be able to get the prisoners in place to be used as bargaining chips. But no. He should have known it wouldn’t be as easily done as he wanted. Not with those fools who reported to Peltier. Damn it, why hadn’t he fought harder when High Command said it was pulling much of the occupation force from the system? At least then he might have had a chance to hold off the Fuerconese until reinforcements could arrive.
“Get the prisoners in place now or, by the gods, I will have you staked out down there with them!”
Damn it, was he the only one who understood just how serious their position happened to be?
“But –”
“Do I need to remind you what our superiors do to those who let hard won gains slip through their fingers?” Kason snapped, watching in growing concern as Joss Donnelly worked to free yet another POW.
Couldn’t High Command have at least left me with a senior military officer who knew his ass from a hole in the ground?
“I suggest you get more guards down there and get the job done while there’s still time. Then make sure our perimeter defenses are online. I swear if the Fuerconese get through, you will be in the leading element going out to engage them. Now get moving.”
* * *
“C’mon,” Joss urged, kneeling beside one of his fellow crewmembers from the
Tarrant
. “Get up, Bo. You’ve got to get up.”
“Get back, LT. We’ve got him,” Gunnery Sergeant Leroy Levitson said as he and Sergeant Karin Abramson dropped to their knees on either side of him.
For a moment Joss looked as if he might argue. Then his eyes locked on the far end of the compound. The heavy gate was slowly opening. That could mean only one thing. The guards were coming back. Time had run out and he had yet to form a plan of any sort that might keep his people and the other prisoners alive a little longer.
“Drag him back as far as you can and then get back here,” he rasped and climbed to his feet. Bearing down against the pain from his injuries, he made his way as quickly as he could to where the rest of his people waited.
“Joss, are you all right?” Lieutenant Sharra Sinclair asked in concern.
“As all right as any of us are,” he said. “Listen up, people. I think we all realize something’s happened and it has the enemy running scared. My guess is they were going to try to use us to hold off an invasionary force. Whether it is the local Resistance or something else, I don’t know. What I do know is we need to hold out until help gets here, no matter what quarter it comes from.”
“What do you want us to do, LT?” Sergeant Ellen O’Donnell asked matter-of-factly.
“Those who don’t have training in hand-to-hand, do what you can to free the others. As for the rest of us, there are no rules now. We’re fighting not only for our own survival but for that of every person here. Don’t hesitate to kill if you have to.” He spoke firmly, hoping they were up to the task.
“One rule,” Sinclair corrected from his side. “You’re the ranking officer now. So you stay with us and don’t go off trying to win this thing on your own.”
“Sharra –“
“No, LT. She’s right,” O’Donnell agreed and then nodded as the gate opened fully and guards began moving slowly in their direction.
He didn’t say anything. Instead he looked at the guards and wondered how he was supposed to keep them away from the others. For one brief moment, he thought of his younger brother who had opted to join the Marines because he wanted to “take the fight to the enemy”. Ryan would know what to do. He’d probably just smile and rush headlong toward the enemy, figuring the last thing they’d expect was a direct attack, especially from unarmed opponents.
“Just stay with me.” That was the only warning he gave the others before racing forward. He’d probably die but if it kept the others alive until help came, it was worth it.
* * *
Kasun stared out the window, disbelief growing. The guards were acting as if they were the ones who were unarmed. Instead of rushing the prisoners, killing a few if necessary to get the others under control, they moved slowly, hesitantly into the area. Damn the cowards!
Without taking his eyes from the green, Kasun reached for his com-link. His fingers worked automatically to activate it. But the soft
beep
indicating an active signal never came. As Donnelly and the prisoners rushed toward the guards, the Occupation Governor looked at the link in concern as he once more tried unsuccessfully to activate it.
“Peltier, try your ‘link,” he said, fear rising. “Tell your people to move in. They are to do whatever it takes to regain control of the compound.”
“Nothing!” Peltier said a moment later, his own fear evident.
Turning from the window, Kasun hurried across the office to his desk. His fingers danced across the virtual keyboard as he typed. Command sequence after command sequence failed. No one responded to his calls for support. Swallowing hard, he tried to activate the link to the spaceport. Silence. Fear erupted and sweat pricked out on his upper lip. Something was very definitely wrong and he had a feeling their time had run out.
But he couldn’t give up. Not yet. Not without proof.
Dear God, what was going on?
“We need to get to the bunker,” he said, gathering up the datachips and looking around to make sure he was leaving nothing behind of any import. “Get word to your people that the POWs and other prisoners are not to be allowed to escape. Lock down the compound and make sure they are where we can still use them when the time comes.”
“See to it, Kerrigan,” Peltier ordered the guard standing on the other side of the open door.
“Send someone to Comms and try to reach Parnian. See if he can send us help from the spaceport.”
As he spoke, Kasun reminded himself not to panic. He had to maintain at least the illusion that he was still in control. But it was hard. So very hard. Especially when he wanted nothing more than to hide until it was safe for him to come out and find a way off this hellhole of a planet.
* * *
“Sir, we’ve got a visual,” Captain Jareau reported.
“Put it up on the secondary screens,” Collins ordered.
An audible gasp filled the flag bridge as the image appeared on the displays before them. It looked like a primitive war was going on and the survivors from the
Tarrant
were right in the middle of it. Worse, there were too few of them, even with the help they were receiving from the other prisoners, to hold out for long against the armed guards. But at least they were holding their own for the moment. Hopefully, the Devil Dogs could reach them before all was lost.
“Comms, signal Colonel Shaw. Tell her to go to Code Red. I repeat. Code Red. They are to drop and secure the area now,” Collins said coldly.
“Signal away, Sir.”
“Hang on, everyone. We’re coming. Hang on just a little while longer.”
* * *
“Fall back!” Joss yelled as the guards withdrew to regroup. “Damn it, fall back!”
Slowly, those of his people still on their feet gathered around him. Even as they did, he shook his head in disbelief. With the guards armed, they might have well been outnumbered more than three to one. But they had held their own, finding makeshift weapons and recovering the weapons from the guards who fell. Somehow, they not only lived but, with the exception of Bo Geist who lay at the far end of the arena where they had taken him before the fight began, they were relatively unscathed.Well, not exactly. They were battered and beaten but they hadn’t broken. True, Sharra Sinclair remained on her feet through sheer stubbornness and several others were little better. Fortunately for all of them, the guards were not working as a cohesive unit. That lack of coordination made it easy to exploit weaknesses in their attack. Even so, Joss knew that if he didn’t find a way to win soon, all the prisoners would die.
But he was damned if they would go down cowering in fear.
Cursing silently, he let his eyes roam the area before him. His gaze swept over the guards who were gathering to attack again. There was something different about them this time. Where they had been cautious before, now they appeared almost hesitant. There was a sense that they were waiting for someone to give an order, any order, but none came. It didn’t make any sense. The guards might be outnumbered – and he wasn’t sure they were – but they most definitely weren’t outgunned. The POWs had only managed to get their hands on a few of the weapons dropped when guards fell during the initial encounter.
Joss looked around, searching for anything that might explain why the guards had yet to press their advantage again. He scanned the area, frowning. Then he turned his attention back to the guards. Some wore light armor. Others were in their daily uniforms. But none of them wore the insignia of a senior officer. He wasn’t even sure there were any senior non-coms among them. If that was the case – and he had no idea why there would be no one with any real authority present – then it would explain why none of them seemed to know exactly what they were to do.
“Where are all the officers?” O’Donnell asked softly from his side.
“More importantly, where is that bastard Peltier and why isn’t he here?” Joss wanted to know. “He wouldn’t miss a chance to hurt any of us. So where is he?”
“Sir, it looks like they’ve decided to try again,” Levitson reported softly.
Frowning, Joss looked in the direction of the guards. Levitson was right. They were coming again, but even more slowly than before. Perhaps the sight of their fallen companions was enough to make them remember just how deadly people could be when they knew they had nothing to lose. Now it was his turn to make sure the POWs exercised enough caution to keep the guards off of them and yet hold out long enough to find out what in the hell was going on.
Even as the question formed, he knew the answer. It would mean some of his people, military and civilian alike, might die but it would keep more of them alive. They had to continue to take the fight directly to the guards. Without someone willing to give orders, the guards would not work as a single unit. He had already seen that. Now he had to press that advantage and try to drive the guards out of the compound long enough that the prisoners could secure the gate against them.
”Close up our ranks. We need to push them back, out of the gate. If we can secure it against them, maybe we can hold out until we know what’s going on.
“Levitson, get yourself some people and move to the right flank. Keep low as we try to push the guards back. Watch for my signal. If necessary, I’ll call you into the fight. I’m hoping I won’t have to. If that’s the case, as soon as we get the guards beyond the gate, I want you and your people to get it shut. I don’t care what you have to do. Just do it.”
“Understood, Sir.” The man turned and scanned the faces of those closest to him. It didn’t take him long to choose half a dozen.
Joss watched as they moved slowly to the back of the group. Nodding in approval, he waited another moment and then focused on the rest of those still able to fight. “Let’s do this. Let’s take the fight to them.”
He lifted his right fist and focused on the slowly advancing guards. He wanted them to get a little closer before ordering the attack. Just a little bit more. Let them think the POWs had finally started having second thoughts.
“Come on,” he whispered, every muscle and nerve tense. “Come on. . . NOW!”
A battle cry rose from the throats of those behind him and filled the air. He almost laughed as the guards faltered, fear washing across the expressions of many of them as the poorly armed but very determined POWs suddenly rushed in their direction.
C
HAPTER
T
HIRTEEN
B
RIGADIER
G
ENERAL
E
LIZABETH
S
HAW
stared out the
window
behind her desk. Below her, visible if she increased the magnification, the members of FirstDiv, Second Batt were doing PT. The division was on standby, waiting to learn where FleetCom decided it was most needed. While most of her attention had been on making sure the division was ready to move out, one part of her remained focused on the Devil Dogs. Unless something unexpected happened, they should now be trying to drive the Callusians from Cassius Prime.
“Are you all right?”
Elizabeth turned at the sound of Helen Okafor’s voice. The woman stood just inside the door. Her expression reflected her concern. Then, before Elizabeth could respond, the Commandant of the Marine Corps stepped further into the office and the door slid shut behind her.
“Just having a mother moment.” Elizabeth smiled slightly and motioned for Okafor to take the desk chair. It didn’t surprise her when Okafor shook her head before dropping onto one of the chairs in front of the desk.
“I know. I feel that way whenever I think about Jarrod,” Okafor said, referring to her son who commanded a cruiser in Third Fleet. “But you know Ash isn’t going to do anything foolish. Nothing is going to keep her from attending Sorkowski’s and O’Brien’s courts-martial.”
Elizabeth nodded. “Any word on O’Brien?”
When she had first learned of how the former Marine CO had been attacked, the only thing that had surprised her was that she wasn’t surprised. Then relief that Ashlyn was off-planet filled her. That meant her daughter couldn’t be blamed for the attack on the man. Not that it had stopped some members of the media from speculating about it.
“The doctors say he’ll be able to stand trial, assuming he doesn’t have another
accident
.” Okafor’s expression turned grim.
“Good. Death is too easy an escape for that bastard.”
“Agreed.” Okafor paused and Elizabeth wondered what was on her mind. “Liz, I had a visit from Rico Santiago earlier.”
Elizabeth dropped onto her chair, not sure if she wanted to know what FleetCom’s Intelligence Chief had to say.