Undying Mercenaries 2: Dust World (34 page)

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The only good thing that came out of the cephalopod invasion was a new sense of cooperation between Legion Varus and the colonists. I didn’t have to listen to any more muttering from the officers about taking them all out. They were humans and, even though they’d given us plenty of resistance at first, once they worked with us they’d been critical to our success. I dared to hope we were beginning to pull together as a species.

Tribune Drusus flew out the day after we took the ship to survey the scene of the battle personally. Graves invited me to be there when he met with the Tribune, but at first I declined.

“You should come, McGill,” he said. “Your actions in this valley were as important as anyone’s. We brought this campaign to a successful conclusion, and you might as well get some of the credit.”

I shrugged, which was possible now because we weren’t wearing battle-armor any longer. What a relief that was. My smart-cloth uniform felt absolutely cushy after spending days encased in steel and chafing polymers.

“That’s it?” Graves asked, frowning at me. “You don’t care?”

“Oh, I care, sir. That’s why I fought so hard to end this. But I’m not into playing the game with the brass. They can read the reports and watch the suit vids if they want to find out what really happened. If I get into the middle of it, I’m liable to step on toes. It’s not worth it.”

Graves’ eyes slid over to Primus Turov, who was doing everything short of putting on false eyelashes in anticipation of the Tribune’s arrival. He looked amused for a moment, then looked back at me.

“Don’t worry about her. To keep a high profile position, one has to worry about how one appears to their superiors. She’s got to play that game—you don’t. Not really.”

I nodded. “Can I ask you how long you’ve served in Varus—and how long she has—sir?”

Graves didn’t like the question. I could see it in his eyes. They became hard the way they looked before he executed a man for disobeying orders. But after that momentary flash of hostility, he relaxed again.

“Yeah, sure,” he said. “I’ve been with Varus a long time. Most of the Primus-ranked officers are my juniors—I’ll admit that. But that’s because I play it my own way the same as you do, Specialist.”

“So why do you want me to change my tune?” I asked, crossing my arms.

“Not for you,” Graves said, lowering his voice. “For these people here—the locals. Their fate hasn’t been decided yet.”

“That is grade-A bullshit, sir!”

“Lower your voice, Specialist. And yes, I know it is. But you have to understand how things are. We’re gambling with much more than our own piddley little lives. If we screw up, all of Earth will suffer. Hell, back home they are already blaming us for Cancri-9. I’m not sure how the Nairbs and the Galactics are going to take the violations that have occurred in this system. They might be in an understanding mood—or they might want to make a clean sweep of things.”

I winced when he mentioned the Nairbs. They were the bureaucrats of the Empire. They were unpleasant beings that only cared about the letter of the law, not justice. I didn’t have the best relationship with them. I’d had unhappy encounters with them on more than one occasion in the past, and I was pretty sure they weren’t going to like anything about what had happened on this planet. Earth had colonized Dust World—even if we hadn’t known until recently that we’d managed to do it. Worse, a Galactic ship had been destroyed. How would the Nairbs mete out judgment and punishment in this instance? I didn’t even want to think about it.

I frowned, took in a deep breath and uncrossed my arms. I knew Graves was right. The brass had to make some hard decisions about the colonists and the fate of the legion itself. You couldn’t make choices like these with your heart—you had to use your head. The survival of our species wasn’t always achieved in the cleanest manner. Legion Varus seemed to always be involved when things became particularly ugly. We were all about the gray-area of morality.

“All right,” I said. “I’ll tag along. You want me to keep quiet?”

Graves chuckled. “I’m not asking for miracles.”

I followed him outside the alien ship and watched as a lifter floated down over the waters of the central lake. The ripples became furious as it dropped ever lower and landed on the shore. The ramp extended and squelched into the mud.

Rock-fish watched curiously as a delegation exited the lifter. At the center of a knot of officers was Tribune Drusus. He wasn’t the tallest in the group—far from it. But somehow, the way his cloak of office trailed behind him and the purposeful manner in which he moved set him apart from the rest. You could just tell he was in charge.

Primus Turov marched past me and met the Tribune on open ground. I could tell she was trying to move with just as much aplomb as Drusus did. She damn-near pulled it off, too.

“Come on,” Graves said.

I followed him, along with a half-dozen others. Most were centurions, the ones who’d died taking the alien ship. The only adjunct was Leeson, and I was the only enlisted man in sight. I felt like a fluffy cat in a dog kennel, but I tried not to show it.

Turov clasped hands with Tribune Drusus, enveloping his hand with both of hers. Drusus nodded vaguely and ran his eyes over the crowd. Those eyes paused on Graves and me. I thought there was a spark of recognition when he saw me—but that might just have been my imagination. Probably, he was just noting that the only enlisted guy was a head taller than the rest of the group.

Finally, he looked back at Turov. She was babbling something about her official report and the sacrifices we all needed to make for the good of the legion and the good of Earth.

“Well said, Primus,” he said at last. “Have you got a secure location to talk?”

She paused for a moment. “I was planning to give you a tour of the alien ship. Don’t you want to survey the prize, sir?”

His lips thinned, and I thought he was slightly annoyed.

“That can wait. Where’s your nearest bunker?”

Turov’s eyes drifted down the beach. I knew where she was looking,
way back at our camp behind the ridge.

“That will be quite a walk, sir,” she said. “I wasn’t expecting—”

“Not expecting a counterattack? Or a second ship How about an attempt by the natives to remove this vessel from our possession?”

The Primus’ mouth opened and shut again. To me, she looked like a curiously attractive rock-fish.

“Unacceptable,” Drusus said. “Set up the perimeter now. I want a bunker at the base of each of these ramps that leads into the ship. No, let me correct that. I want two of the three ramps retracted. The last one, the one in the center, is to stay open for now. We’ll set up bunkers with clear firing paths in all directions. Construct a few on the far side of the vessel. For all we know, it might be possible to open this ship on the other side as well.”

“Yes, sir,” the Primus said. She turned and relayed the orders to her staffers, who ran off like their butts were on fire.

Drusus walked toward the knot of officers I stood behind. “Graves? I might have known you were the one leading the charge into this behemoth ship. Congratulations.”

Graves shook the tribune’s hand. “I can’t claim that honor, sir,” he said. “Leeson was in command of the final push. I died right here on the doorstep.”

“Pity,” Drusus said, stepping up to Leeson. He had a frown on his face, as if he smelled something a little past its sell date. “Congratulations,” he told Leeson, eyeing him.

“Thank you, Tribune.”

“What are you doing here, McGill?” Drusus asked next.

Leeson opened his mouth to answer, but the Tribune stopped him with a raised index finger.

“Let the man talk, Adjunct. He’s good at that, as I recall.”

“Sir!” I said snapping to attention. “Centurion Graves asked that I come along.”

“Why would he do that?”

My eyes slid toward Graves, but I could tell I wasn’t going to get any help from him. He was watching us detachedly.

“I was one of the first into the ship—and probably the first man to set foot on the bridge at the end. That might be why, sir.”

“Not just that,” Drusus said. “You also organized local resistance to aid us. Without their help, we would have failed in our attempt to capture the ship. I’m sure you’ll have valuable input before this gathering breaks up.”

“That’s true,” I said. “The colonists really helped.”

I wondered why he’d asked me if he already knew all that. But maybe he’d wanted to hear how I explained it. Sometimes, I found my officers tricky and tiresome to talk to.

Primus Turov had returned during our interchange and overheard us. She looked like she’d swallowed a bug.

“That’s an overstatement of the colonists’ contribution, sir,” she said crisply.

“Not from what I’ve seen and heard,” Drusus said, still looking at me. Finally, he turned toward the Primus. “Turov? Where were you during the assault?”

She looked startled. “At the final stages, I was marching through the ship to the upper decks,” she said. “I led the relief forces that—”

“Yes,” Drusus said in a voice that suddenly seemed bored. “Of course, I’ve read your report. Your cohort did very well under difficult circumstances. You’re all to be commended. Now, do you have a secure location for us to discuss serious matters?”

“We don’t have a bunker, sir. The
big drones will take about an hour to complete the first of them, but we can go into a tent or the ship itself.”

“Go into an alien ship with unknown properties? Are you serious?”

“We could go back to our camp, sir. It’s behind that ridge.”

Drusus followed her gesture and looked annoyed.

I don’t know why—I really don’t—but when I see a problem and I have the solution in my head, sometimes I just can’t keep it from coming out of my mouth.

“We could go down, sirs,” I blurted, “into the tunnels. They’re quite roomy and secure.”

“What tunnels?” Turov asked acidly.

“The ones we used to get under the enemy dome,” Graves answered. “That’s an excellent idea. Before the attack, they served us as a bunker for several hours.”

In the end, we all went to the circle of rocks where our invasion of the ship had begun. Drusus surveyed the battleground with interest.

“There are laser strikes everywhere. This was a hard battle long before you reached the ship. What were your total revivals by the end of the assault?”

Primus Turov looked concerned. “We had somewhere over a thousand, sir.”

Drusus whistled. “Effectively, you wiped.”

“Not at all,” Turov snapped back. “At any given time, the cohort was never below half strength.”

“That is a technical distinction but an important one. You’re all to be commended for a hard-fought victory.”

He’d already said this, but I felt that he really did mean it this time. He looked troubled. He faced us all and spoke to the group.

“Look,” he said. “Whatever happens, you did your jobs. Not everyone sees it that way, but I do. Other cohort commanders have second-guessed every decision made here, but that’s only to be expected.”

Frowning, I followed the group after the Tribune’s strange little speech into the cool gloom of the tunnels. What the hell was the Tribune talking about? Why had the other cohort commanders seen fit to complain about our actions? I wasn’t in love with Primus Turov, but we’d won in the end under her command. I didn’t like the idea of other officers trying to nitpick our difficult battle when they weren’t even here to participate or support us.

The tunnels were dry and sandy. They smelled better than I remembered. Drusus circled up the officers, but I hung back in the shadows near the exit. I felt out of place.

“Turov,” said the Tribune. “Have a security team explore each of these tunnels a hundred meters back. I don’t want anyone listening in. Use buzzers as well, and do an electronic sweep. Oh, and everyone should put their tappers into conference mode.”

These orders took several minutes to follow. Drusus waited until all of the security people were back out of the tunnels before he got around to the point.

He faced the circle of officers with a very serious expression on his face. “The Nairb ship has arrived,” he said.

This caused a visible reaction. We’d all known he had to have a reason to bring us down here. The arrival of any Galactic ship was good news, in my opinion. Why all the secrecy?

These thoughts rang out in my head, but I said nothing. I could tell the other officers weren’t clear on what the big deal was, either.

“Excellent news, sir,” said the Primus experimentally. “We’re as good as rescued.”

“Not at all,” Drusus said. “Tell me, Primus, how will the Nairbs judge our actions here in this system?”

“Uh…I’m not certain, sir.”

“Exactly,” Drusus said, nodding. “What if they find our efforts lacking? What if they decide the system is to be expunged?”

“It’s just the Nairbs, sir,” she answered. “Surely, the Galactics themselves will come to make their own decisions.”

Drusus shook his head. “No. That’s not how it will happen. The Nairbs will perform their investigation. They will make their decision, and then they will call for the Battle Fleet. At that point, action is almost assured.”