taken him with nine hundred others. That had crippled Ma; all that was left was a hollow, almost mindless shell, living with her only sister and well on her way to the final chill. Saval was what family she had, save for her mother and aunt, and if he thought this was a good idea, then that was good enough for Taz.
The quad jogged along, not expecting trouble. They weren't wearing armor or electronic gear that she could see, but they carried their carbines unslung, held at port arms where they could bring them into play quickly. Taz took a deep breath, let it out, inhaled through her nose again. Shifted her grip on the pistol's stickygrip, slipped her finger inside the trigger guard. Thumbed the safety print plate twice to toggle the weapon into firing mode. Glanced at Jerlu again, nodded.
Once she'd made the choice, she found there were a lot of other POs who were in agreement. Threequarters of the force, it turned out. She'd suspected the rebels had a lot of sympathy, but hadn't guessed it to be quite so high. Or so high up. The Supe himself, nearly all of the WCs, most of the ranked officers.
And they were glad to have her declaration.
When it finally shook loose, maybe three-quarters of the Confed troops said 'Fuck it,' and shucked their weapons. But there was a core of those who were loyal or venal or something, a couple of hundred soldiers altogether, who moved to take control of the planet Tembo. Not many, but they were better armed and knew tactics and strategy in a way most civilians did not. Fifty troopers with two hovertanks and medium-heavy weapons occupied the Rubani port, so offworld traffic was under their control-at least insofar as normal boxcar drops and lifts went.
The remaining troops moved to take classic objectivesbroadcast and com centers, food distribution points, local transportation plexes, river and highway access, seaport docks.
Taz and Jerlu and five others had been sent to North Docktown to keep the agroplex clear. It was not the most important spot in the city, but a lot of food was imported through the agroplex, and whoever controlled it would have an advantage. Regardless of who was in power, people had to eat.
Taz and Jerlu were the sentries. They had short-trans com sets, basically an ear button and mike, but they had to assume the military could monitor the standard opchans with their scanners, so any transmissions had to be short and fast, even with compscramblers working. Taz and Jerlu had to warn the five-person team heading for the harbormaster's control office if trouble showed up, and they had to delay it long enough for the team to get in place. The HCO was fairly defensible from the inside, so whoever got there first would have a big advantage.
A quad had one less member but a lot better firepower than the five-person team of cools with sidearms and shotguns. In a stand-up, the Confed boys would most likely win.
"I got the two in front," Taz said.
"Copy," Jerlu said.
"I'll call the team now," she said.
He merely nodded. She could see he was afraid, could smell his fear. Or maybe that was her own nervous sweat she smelled.
"Team, company, one quad, flitter shop," she said. She hoped somebody was paying attention, because if the quad got past her and Jerlu, it would be the team's problem.
Taz could hear the quad's boots thumping now. The sound grew louder. The four soldiers would pass right by the alleyway on the narrow street, moving from right to left across her field of vision. Any second.
"Heads up!" she called to Jerlu.
He brought the shotgun up, flicked the sighting laser on. Swallowed loudly enough so she could hear it.
She didn't trigger her own built-in laser sight. The quad would come past at maybe ten meters away, max. She didn't want to take the time to put the dot on the target; she would do better with a barrel index. She hoped.
The first trooper moved into view.
"Go!"
Taz pushed away from the wall, snapped her pistol up and pointed it like her finger
The quad jogged along, not expecting trouble. They weren't wearing armor or electronic gear that she could see, but they carried their carbines unslung, held at port arms where they could bring them into play quickly. Taz took a deep breath, let it out, inhaled through her nose again. Shifted her grip on the pistol's stickygrip, slipped her finger inside the trigger guard. Thumbed the safety print plate twice to toggle the weapon into firing mode. Glanced at Jerlu again, nodded.
Once she'd made the choice, she found there were a lot of other POs who were in agreement. Threequarters of the force, it turned out. She'd suspected the rebels had a lot of sympathy, but hadn't guessed it to be quite so high. Or so high up. The Supe himself, nearly all of the WCs, most of the ranked officers.
And they were glad to have her declaration.
When it finally shook loose, maybe three-quarters of the Confed troops said 'Fuck it,' and shucked their weapons. But there was a core of those who were loyal or venal or something, a couple of hundred soldiers altogether, who moved to take control of the planet Tembo. Not many, but they were better armed and knew tactics and strategy in a way most civilians did not. Fifty troopers with two hovertanks and medium-heavy weapons occupied the Rubani port, so offworld traffic was under their control-at least insofar as normal boxcar drops and lifts went.
The remaining troops moved to take classic objectivesbroadcast and com centers, food distribution points, local transportation plexes, river and highway access, seaport docks.
Taz and Jerlu and five others had been sent to North Docktown to keep the agroplex clear. It was not the most important spot in the city, but a lot of food was imported through the agroplex, and whoever controlled it would have an advantage. Regardless of who was in power, people had to eat.
Taz and Jerlu were the sentries. They had short-trans com sets, basically an ear button and mike, but they had to assume the military could monitor the standard opchans with their scanners, so any transmissions had to be short and fast, even with compscramblers working. Taz and Jerlu had to warn the five-person team heading for the harbormaster's control office if trouble showed up, and they had to delay it long enough for the team to get in place. The HCO was fairly defensible from the inside, so whoever got there first would have a big advantage.
A quad had one less member but a lot better firepower than the five-person team of cools with sidearms and shotguns. In a stand-up, the Confed boys would most likely win.
"I got the two in front," Taz said.
"Copy," Jerlu said.
"I'll call the team now," she said.
He merely nodded. She could see he was afraid, could smell his fear. Or maybe that was her own nervous sweat she smelled.
"Team, company, one quad, flitter shop," she said. She hoped somebody was paying attention, because if the quad got past her and Jerlu, it would be the team's problem.
Taz could hear the quad's boots thumping now. The sound grew louder. The four soldiers would pass right by the alleyway on the narrow street, moving from right to left across her field of vision. Any second.
"Heads up!" she called to Jerlu.
He brought the shotgun up, flicked the sighting laser on. Swallowed loudly enough so she could hear it.
She didn't trigger her own built-in laser sight. The quad would come past at maybe ten meters away, max. She didn't want to take the time to put the dot on the target; she would do better with a barrel index. She hoped.
The first trooper moved into view.
"Go!"
Taz pushed away from the wall, snapped her pistol up and pointed it like her finger
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