killed anyone in civilized societies for centuries.
“General, we have multiple reports of fighting east of Weston.”
“Multiple reports?” Tyler’s eyes widened. He’d thought he’d seen a few strange flashes in the sky the day before, but he’d discounted them. His people had been waiting for relief for a long time, and he’d just about given up. He knew the Marines would have come if they could have, so he assumed this enemy, whoever they were, had attacked other worlds as well. He’d assumed the Marines were committed elsewhere. Or worse, defeated.
“Yes, sir.” Richmond was nervous and excited, but he held his composure well. “Two different hunter teams have reported in.” His voice became darker. “And three more deployed to that area failed to check in and are missing.” He paused. “Sir, could it be the invasion?”
That’s what they’d been calling it. The invasion. Not Tyler, but his soldiers and the civilians of Columbia. Through all the death and hardship, they’d continued to believe the Marines would come and liberate them once again. Tyler had less faith. His didn’t doubt the dedication of the Corps, but he also knew the Marines were only men and women. They’d gone right from the Third Frontier War into the Rebellions, and the survivors had poured their blood into the sands of a dozen worlds fighting off the robot legions of the First Imperium. The few who’d made it through that holocaust had returned to this new struggle. Tyler didn’t doubt the Marines would come if they could; he doubted there were any Marines left.
Tyler looked back at his young aide. “It could be a lot of things, Hal. Maybe a separate group of refugees launching an attack.”
“Or the Marines!” Richmond’s eyes were bright with excitement. “It could be the Marines too, couldn’t it?”
“I suppose it could, Hal.” Tyler didn’t want to let himself believe. He’d waited each day for help to come, watching his people die in these miserable swamps. But it was possible. He tried to force back his own excitement at the prospect.
“Hal, go get Lieutenants Paine and White.” He waved toward the flap of the tent. “Tell them I’ve got a mission for them.”
If the Marines had really landed, it was time to launch his own attack to support the landing. It would cost him all his remaining supplies and leave him nothing to defend the civilians. It was a last roll of the dice for Tyler and the remnants of Columbia’s army. He had to be sure the Marines were actually here before he issued the order.
Paine and White were his two best men. If anybody could get to the bottom of what was going on, it was them. If they came back and told him there were Marines on Columbia, that would be enough for him to risk everything.
“But the LZ is surrounded, General.” Arch Mantooth had been with Gilson since the beginning of the First Imperium War. She’d given him his eagles at the beginning of that conflict and his star after Arcadia. “You think we suffered heavy losses to the landers in the first wave, fresh after the bombardment and with whatever level of surprise we had?” His voice was raw. He hated counseling caution when fellow Marines were in trouble, but it wasn’t going to help the men and women on the ground if they got another wave blown out of the sky.
“So what do we do, Arch? Send down a load of bodybags and say, ‘so sorry! We can’t get any help down to you?” Her voice had been harsher than she’d intended. She knew Mantooth would be the last to abandon fellow Marines. And he was right. Getting a whole new batch of men and women shot to pieces wasn’t going to do Heath’s people any good.
Mantooth took a deep breath. “So what do we do, General?” There was a brittleness to his tone, a sensitivity that told Gilson her outburst had found its mark.
“We go in.” The
“General, we have multiple reports of fighting east of Weston.”
“Multiple reports?” Tyler’s eyes widened. He’d thought he’d seen a few strange flashes in the sky the day before, but he’d discounted them. His people had been waiting for relief for a long time, and he’d just about given up. He knew the Marines would have come if they could have, so he assumed this enemy, whoever they were, had attacked other worlds as well. He’d assumed the Marines were committed elsewhere. Or worse, defeated.
“Yes, sir.” Richmond was nervous and excited, but he held his composure well. “Two different hunter teams have reported in.” His voice became darker. “And three more deployed to that area failed to check in and are missing.” He paused. “Sir, could it be the invasion?”
That’s what they’d been calling it. The invasion. Not Tyler, but his soldiers and the civilians of Columbia. Through all the death and hardship, they’d continued to believe the Marines would come and liberate them once again. Tyler had less faith. His didn’t doubt the dedication of the Corps, but he also knew the Marines were only men and women. They’d gone right from the Third Frontier War into the Rebellions, and the survivors had poured their blood into the sands of a dozen worlds fighting off the robot legions of the First Imperium. The few who’d made it through that holocaust had returned to this new struggle. Tyler didn’t doubt the Marines would come if they could; he doubted there were any Marines left.
Tyler looked back at his young aide. “It could be a lot of things, Hal. Maybe a separate group of refugees launching an attack.”
“Or the Marines!” Richmond’s eyes were bright with excitement. “It could be the Marines too, couldn’t it?”
“I suppose it could, Hal.” Tyler didn’t want to let himself believe. He’d waited each day for help to come, watching his people die in these miserable swamps. But it was possible. He tried to force back his own excitement at the prospect.
“Hal, go get Lieutenants Paine and White.” He waved toward the flap of the tent. “Tell them I’ve got a mission for them.”
If the Marines had really landed, it was time to launch his own attack to support the landing. It would cost him all his remaining supplies and leave him nothing to defend the civilians. It was a last roll of the dice for Tyler and the remnants of Columbia’s army. He had to be sure the Marines were actually here before he issued the order.
Paine and White were his two best men. If anybody could get to the bottom of what was going on, it was them. If they came back and told him there were Marines on Columbia, that would be enough for him to risk everything.
“But the LZ is surrounded, General.” Arch Mantooth had been with Gilson since the beginning of the First Imperium War. She’d given him his eagles at the beginning of that conflict and his star after Arcadia. “You think we suffered heavy losses to the landers in the first wave, fresh after the bombardment and with whatever level of surprise we had?” His voice was raw. He hated counseling caution when fellow Marines were in trouble, but it wasn’t going to help the men and women on the ground if they got another wave blown out of the sky.
“So what do we do, Arch? Send down a load of bodybags and say, ‘so sorry! We can’t get any help down to you?” Her voice had been harsher than she’d intended. She knew Mantooth would be the last to abandon fellow Marines. And he was right. Getting a whole new batch of men and women shot to pieces wasn’t going to do Heath’s people any good.
Mantooth took a deep breath. “So what do we do, General?” There was a brittleness to his tone, a sensitivity that told Gilson her outburst had found its mark.
“We go in.” The
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