Chapter Twenty-two

 

Korban was tight-lipped when Reba, Val, Waverly, and the three squadron commanders briefed him in person. The utter ruthlessness of the Chessori surprised all of them, and now that they had personally experienced the scree, the true impact of the Chessori presence within the fleet hit home hard.

Reba’s Raiders, too, were stunned. Only half of their comrades returned unscathed. Such losses could not be tolerated. They would have to revise their tactics. Chessori would henceforth be shot on sight.

Val met with the Chessori traders he’d befriended some months earlier and moved them to Korban’s headquarters.

“What’s going on, Val?” Forg asked.

“I’m not at liberty to say, but I don’t think Chessori will be welcome here for long. This move is for your own protection.”

“We’d like to assist you.”

“Then do as I ask. I need nothing more at the moment.”

Forg considered, his large eyes never leaving Val’s. “Is this a test?”

“No, you’ve earned my trust. Do not betray that trust, my friend.”

“You’re a Knight, Val. We will not betray you. Are there Chessori traders in the system?”

“There are.”

“They might be innocent. I would have been. Is there any way to warn them away?”

“I won’t make any promises, but I’ll do what I can. Can you tell me which ones to warn?”

“Just warn all of them that Chessori are no longer welcome here. True traders will leave, or at least remain out-system until things are settled.”

 

* * * * *

 

Two days later, Korban received a summons from the Sector Governor, Sikes. Was this the call he had been dreading? He wasn’t ready to wrest control of the sector from Sikes yet.

He notified Chandrajuski, then delayed for a time while Colonel Waverly positioned his forces. When he answered the summons, it was uneasily, knowing he walked into a den of Rebel loyalists. He was accompanied by Reba, who had undergone treatment for her wounded lower leg but still limped noticeably, his adjutant, and three Terran soldiers. Waverly stationed a number of squads inside Korban’s headquarters and posted snipers on rooftops between his headquarters and the governor’s palace. Others were detailed to stroll unobtrusively in the vicinity of the governor’s palace, while the bulk of the men were held in reserve at various other locations.

Korban and his small group entered the governor’s mansion amidst hostile stares and the presence of many Chessori. Reba’s three sergeants, survivors of the battle on the cruiser, were not invited into Sikes’ office. They remained in his outer office where they stationed themselves well away from each other and remained at the ready.

Inside the office, two Chessori stood behind the governor’s desk. Sikes looked angry but confident.

“My Chessori friends tell me they are unable to communicate with their friends aboard your ships, Admiral.”

“I’m not surprised. They all left. Have your Chessori friends any news of them?”

“Only that they are not aboard the ships, Admiral,” replied the Chessori standing to Sikes’ left. “Where have you sent them?”

“I don’t know where they are. They all decided to leave at the same time, and my commanders were more than willing to let them.”

“You lie!” exclaimed the Chessori.

“Be careful of whom you call a liar,” Korban replied. “You are guests here, or had you forgotten?”

“Enough!” Sikes roared. “Where are they, Admiral?”

“Gone,” Korban replied angrily. “It doesn’t matter where.” He peered hard at the two Chessori. “I find it interesting that you two know no more about them than the governor. It tells me that the range of your telepathic communications ability is limited. Now,” he said, turning back to the governor, “as military commander of this Sector, I declare these and all Chessori to be enemies of the Empire. They’re under arrest.”

“You don’t have the authority, Admiral. These are political appointees subject only to me.”

“You’re wrong, Governor,” Korban shot back. “Worse, you’re stupid. These Chessori plan to allow your rule only as long as it pleases them. You’re playing right into their hands.”

“You’re relieved, Admiral,” Sikes stated calmly, rising to his feet.

“I do not recognize your authority to relieve me, Governor,” Korban replied evenly. In a softer tone he added, “Are you ready to make your move then?”

“You’ve forced my hand. Reinforcements from Struthers will enter the system within the next few days, so my hand is strong. Hand over your weapons, all of you,” he demanded.

“Sorry, Governor. You’ve forced my hand, as well.” Korban reached for his blaster, as did Reba and the adjutant. The scree came immediately. Reba fell to the floor as Celine’s pain filled her leg, but she was up quickly and fired once at each Chessori. She didn’t miss. The governor, Korban, and the adjutant were all down. The scree stopped when the two Chessori died, but it resumed moments later. Reba heard blasters firing from the other side of the door.

She limped to the door and pulled it open, instantly dropping to the floor, her blaster fanning the room. No one stood except her Raiders and one Rebel lurching around in agony. Sergeant Timms yelled, “We’re secure in here. You?”

“Secure!” she shouted. “Check the next room. I’m calling for reinforcements.”

She hurried back into the room to make certain the Chessori were truly dead. They were. She spoke into her communicator, calling Colonel Waverly. “We’re in the back of the mansion and trapped. We counted at least thirty Chessori on the way in. There might be others we didn’t see.”

“The scree has been felt here at Korban’s headquarters, as well. We’re securing the building and will work our way toward the mansion,” he responded calmly. “It might take a while to reach you. It’s a mess outside. Everyone’s down, civilians included.”

“Shoot any Chessori on sight,” she advised. “We’re going to fight our way out. Tell your men we’re on the move.”

“Secure all Rebels you encounter. We don’t want to have to start fighting all over again when the scree stops,” Waverly reminded her.

“Understood.”

They had come prepared, but not necessarily prepared enough. She didn’t have handcuffs enough to go around, so she stunned everyone not already dead except the admiral and his adjutant. When she realized that the ones she stunned stopped writhing in pain, she stunned Korban and his adjutant, as well, hoping it offered some relief from the scree. She dragged them into the next room, but her three sergeants had moved well down the central corridor, clearing rooms as they went.

She caught up to them just as they approached a large foyer area where several corridors and stairways merged. This area would be a challenge: Sergeant Timms didn’t have enough men to properly clear an area this big.

Reba called Waverly. “Any progress toward us?”

“No. We’re pinned down out front. I’ve sent guys around both sides – they’ll try other entrances. We have a pretty big fight going on out front.”

Reba could hear it. Heavy weapons pounded frequently. She huddled with the three sergeants. “Any other entrances or exits?” she asked.

 “Not here,” Timms replied, “unless you want to go out the windows. Personally, I’d like to finish what we started.”

“So would I. Korban needs to secure the city and the space port. We’re going to have to do it for him, starting with this building. Colonel Waverly said the whole city is in turmoil. Wish I knew the range of this scree.”

“I think we’ll know more about it when this is all over,” Timms replied. He looked at Reba. “You’re not very mobile. I want you to stay here on the right side of the corridor. Cover our left side as well as you can. We’re going right, and we’ll work our way all the way around the foyer. Ready?”

She nodded, and the men moved into the open area using standard clearing techniques that had become second nature, techniques Reba had learned, as well, during her training with them. She followed Timms’ instructions and kept her weapon and attention to the left side of the foyer area. A large table and flower vase stood in the middle of the room, giving the men slight cover. Reba saw movement on a stairway, and she knew no one was moving but the Chessori. She waited until she had a clear target, then fired three shots. A white body fell down the stairs.

Sergeant Timms led his team of three, and all of them loosed patterns of three shots from time to time, but Reba couldn’t see their targets. The team made it all the way around the room and back to her.

“Not much activity,” Timms announced. “I think they’ve moved out to the front of the building. Let’s go.”

Reba dragged Korban and his adjutant as the three Raiders covered her. As soon as they reached the far side of the room, the three sergeants picked up their pace down the hallway, leaving her to follow with Korban and his adjutant. She finally caught up to them at the main entrance of the mansion. Timms advised her that they’d had little further resistance, and looking outside, it was clear why. Colonel Waverly had his hands full with more than a hundred Chessori holding his men at bay across the plaza fronting the mansion, and they had some seriously heavy weapons. Sergeant Timms used hand motions to position Reba and the other two sergeants, then led the assault on the heavy weapons, taking the Chessori from the rear by surprise. The battle quickly turned into a route. Some Chessori tried to surrender, but Reba announced over her comm link that there would be no quarter given until the scree ended. All Chessori they could find died, yet the scree continued unabated.

Reba and Colonel Waverly huddled together to come up with a plan. They had made plans, but those plans had fallen apart with the first shot. Their main concerns were primary locations, the government headquarters buildings around the mansion and the spaceport, half of it civilian and half of it military. Waverly detailed two full squads to remain behind to search and clear the mansion, to include taking the governor and his staff into custody, then detailed four squads to each nearby building to root out any Chessori hiding there. The rest of his teams went to the military spaceport. They had to secure ships with heavy guns before the Chessori got their act together.

“How long can your men keep this up?” she asked Waverly as they raced for the spaceport, Reba limping along as fast as she could.

“You just point us in the right direction, Ma’am,” he replied with a reassuring tone.

“It could take days.”

“Then it will take days.”

Waverly’s men had suffered only minor losses so far, but the most dangerous type of fighting potentially still lay before them, that of clearing ships and buildings. They were, to a man, very, very good at this particular form of fighting, and they set to with great care. When she and Waverly reached the spaceport, he called his officers into a meeting, a plan was set, and assignments handed out. The officers returned to their men, assigning individual companies, platoons, and squads as necessary.

Lieutenant Stephens and his platoon of four squads was assigned one of four heavy gun emplacements on the perimeter of the spaceport. He approached warily with his men, not having a clue how to get into the building or how the insides of the building were laid out. He ran a hand over the stubble of a beard as he conferred with Sergeant Walters, his most experienced sergeant.

“It’s armored, that’s for sure, and probably shielded, as well,” Walters said, staring at the massive structure. It appeared as if a square block of obsidian, several stories high and some 50 meters on a side, had been planted in the ground. There were no windows and only one door that they could see.

“We won’t be able to blow our way in.”

“Maybe the door is unlocked,” Walters replied. “Let’s find out.”

Stephens placed his squads, one each at the back corners of the building, one at the nearest corner, and Sergeant Walters on the door. Walters was squad one. Squad two would follow if Walters could get in. The rest would remain outside for security. Stephens started to go with Walters and his men to the door, but Walters placed a hand on his shoulder.

“You know my guys are better at this,” he said. “This is a tough one. We don’t have a clue what we’ll run into, and we don’t know our way around. Why don’t you come in with squad two?”

Stephens looked at his grizzled sergeant in surprise. “I hate to admit it, but you’re right, Sergeant. I can’t compete with your years of experience. Go to it.”

Stephens received a call from squad three behind the building. “There’s a rear entrance, sir.”

“You know the drill, sergeant. No one that comes out of that door lives.”

“Yes, sir.”

Walters and his nine men rushed up to the side of the building and lined up to the right side of the door. If the door opened, everything would move very fast from that point on. Teams of four would work together, though the individual team members would change in a fluid and complex pattern of movement and covering movement, a ballet they had conducted many, many times. Fields of fire were fundamental: each man had a specific field of fire, and his weapon would never cross the body of another team member.

Sergeant Inoue was first in line. He touched the door-open pad, and to his surprise, the door rumbled slowly aside. Walters was amazed. The soldiers responsible for security here must have succumbed to the scree, as well. Inoue took a quick look across the opening to clear the far side of the room and moved in, angling around the door and turning to his right, his weapon pointed slightly down but ready for instant use. Immediately behind him, the second man, Sergeant Hodgson, slid in behind him, his weapon traversing from the center of the room to the left side of the room, and he moved left. The third man in moved right, focusing center and right, to follow Inoue. Walters came in fourth, focusing center and left, to follow number two. This took about three seconds.

The room wasn’t a room, it was a foyer that opened into two wide corridors, each going in opposite directions around the inside of the facility. Two soldiers thrashed about on the floor, clearly under the effect of the scree. No words were spoken as Inoue and number three continued to the right, and number two and Walters continued down the corridor to the left. The rest of the squad followed, each peeling off to the right or left. Walters team of four had two new members, and his own position, number four, had moved up to number two. His field of fire had changed, as had his movement, but the new number three and four men knew their jobs.

Several doors opened off the corridor before Walters. His number one, Sergeant Hodgson, stopped at the first door, which was open. Walters and the number three and four men immediately lined up behind Hodgson as he cleared what he could see of the room with his eyes, still close to the wall. It only took an instant, then he moved as before, into the room and right. Walters, as number two, went left, followed by numbers three and four. The room was empty. They moved back into the corridor, the last man in line breaking open a fluorescent tube and tossing it to the floor at the doorway. Anyone else coming this way would know the room was secure. Eight seconds had passed since entering the facility.

They moved down the corridor, clearing two more rooms before reaching the end of the corridor, which turned right. Twenty-five seconds had elapsed since entering the building. At the corner, Hodgson, hugging the outer wall, quickly made the turn, clearing the corridor with his eyes as his field of view increased, his weapon traversing with his eyes. Walters was immediately behind him, and he stayed to the right side of the corridor. Numbers three and four followed, concentrating center and left, but also concentrating high and low in case they encountered a threat from above, such as a catwalk. Hodgson saw movement half way down the corridor, but it was fleeting. He did not take a shot.

They continued down the corridor at a fast, practiced gate that kept the weapons steady, all four men now on the right side of the corridor, each with an assigned field of fire. More men came up behind them, half of squad two and Lieutenant Stephens. They reached a wide descending stairway opening off the right side of the corridor toward the inside of the building.

The team of four lined up on the approach to the stairway, then Hodgson turned the corner hugging the wall to his right and started down. Walters followed, crossing over to hug the wall to his left. They quickly reached a landing and made the left turn. Hodgson hugged the outer wall of the turn, his weapon clearing the lower stairway as it came into view. He saw movement and fired as two white heads peered around the entrance of a room at the bottom. He missed, but he kept moving down and firing. Walters made the turn right behind him, though he stayed on the left wall. He saw the same movement and fired, then instantly went into a crouch to improve his aim. He might have hit his target with the first shot but wasn’t sure. He fired three quick shots at the Chessori, then three shots at the other Chessori who disappeared. The other two men followed number one, remaining to the right side of the stairway and out of Walters field of fire.

They reached the bottom and were joined by Walters. One minute had elapsed since the first man entered the building, and some five seconds had elapsed since starting down the stairwell. One Chessori lay dead at their feet.

The stairway ended in a landing. Centered on the wall across the landing was a heavy blast door, wide open, leading into a large room filled with control stations. Three men were lined up on the right side of the doorway hugging the wall beside the door, and Walters lined up by himself to the left.

Hodgson tossed a stun grenade into the room, shouted “Light,” and they each counted two seconds. On the count of two, Hodgson entered, his weapon sweeping from left to right as he moved right. He fired two shots as his weapon traversed a Chessori head sticking up behind a console. He didn’t wait to see if he hit his target. His weapon continued traversing to the right as he moved right. He fired two more shots at another piece of Chessori visible to the side of a console, but again, he did not wait to see if he had hit his target. His flow continued to the right, and he moved along the wall to the right.

Immediately behind him, Sergeant Walters went left, his weapon also firing at the Chessori in the center, but he, too, continued his flow to the left, and he moved along the wall to the left. Immediately behind him, number three moved right but focused more on the center of the room. His weapon, too, fired at the first Chessori, though it was already dead. The body just hadn’t had time to fall yet. Number four followed Walters. The second Chessori was not dead. Number three moved right, following Hodgson. The Chessori raised a weapon toward Hodgson who was focused to his right and did not see the creature, but number three did. The upper part of the Chessori disappeared as three blaster shots hit it in quick succession.

Three seconds had elapsed since the four men started into the room.

Each two-man team continued right and left around the room. Walters, still number two, focused ahead and left while number three followed some three feet behind, focused toward the center and left side of the room. Number three also focused high and low, but there were no balconies.

The center of the room held a circle of workstations, and numbers three and four broadened their focus to include the far side of the room, the oblique angles, where they had a better angle on anyone hiding. Number four, just behind Walters, spotted the top of a white head on the floor behind a work station across the room, just ahead of number one, Hodgson. He took three shots and didn’t miss. The same happened on his side of the room: number three took out that Chessori. Hodgson fired at a head peering out from behind a console six feet in front of him, and he didn’t miss either.

More men from the second squad entered and moved to the sides, clearing the center of the room as they did so. “Clear,” Sergeant Walters called as he reached the far side of the room. Lieutenant Stephens, the last one in, broke a fluorescent light and threw it to the floor at the entrance to the room.

Walters and his three men lined up on each side of the rear exit from the room. They did their dance again, moving up the stairway as Stephens called the men outside to let them know they might have friendlies coming out. Walters reached the rear exit without further incident, and he tossed a fluorescent marker at the door to indicate the exit was secure. He turned around and went back into the control room.

His gaze met Stephens.’ “How long?”

Stephens’ eyes lowered. “You know, I was so worried about you that I forgot to time us.”

A tight grin flitted across Walters’ face as his adrenalin high started abating. “Any casualties?”

“None. The building is secure. We’ll make another sweep just to be certain, but it’s clear. There were quite a few Empire soldiers, most of them in a break room. They’re all secure.”

Stephens reported in to his captain, then turned to Walters. “We’re needed elsewhere. You stay here with squad one to secure the building. I’m taking squads two, three, and four with me.”

Walters’ eyes roamed the control room in thought. “Mind if we try to figure out how this stuff works?” he asked.

“Have at it, as long as you keep the place secure. I’ll be busy elsewhere. Report anything to Captain Jordan.”

“Yes, sir.”

Walters set security at both entrances, then he huddled together with Hodgson in conversation. While they had no clue what the various workstations were for, each station had a helmet just like what they’d used aboard ships to enter the net. He looked a question at Hodgson, who waved his hand nonchalantly.

“Be my guest, Walters.”

Walters pulled the helmet over his head. Nothing happened for a while, but then he felt the net coming alive, just as he had on ships. He experimented for a while, then found a mental switch and talked to his men.

“Hey, this is pretty cool. Hodgson, get in here with me.”

He and Hodgson met on the net and carefully waded their way through various channels. They eventually located targeting computers, shield controls, and firing commands, then they figured out how to open the firing ports.

“I need two more of you in here with me,” he called to his men.

It took a while to get the newcomers up to speed, but he soon had them aboard. Then he sent a thought to the AI. “We need some training.”

The AI responded instantly. The scene outside changed to simulation, then targets appeared. The AI carefully led them through the necessary processes to control shields, identify targets, track them, and fire when ready. After three hours, Walters felt ready. The AI wanted to tie him into the rest of the net guarding the spaceport, but Walters hesitated. He didn’t know if those guns were secure yet. He assigned two men to keep an eye out for real targets, then he and Hodgson exited the net. 

“Captain Jordan,” he said into his communicator, “we’re secure here, and we think we know how to work the guns. How are things out there?”

“One building at a time. You know how it is. We haven’t found many Chessori, and the scree is still sounding, so they’re out here somewhere. We’ve taken two more gun positions, but we can’t get into the last one. The door is locked, and no one’s available with the codes to open it. Stay where you are, and I’ll pass the word that your cannons are manned. We might be able to do the same with the others. Good job, Walters.”

“Can you send some back-up? I’d like to get all my men into the net here.”

“I’ll detail squad two back to you. I might need them back later.”

Waverly was advised of the situation, and he smiled. “Pretty sharp guys, huh?” he said to Reba.

“I didn’t know they were so creative,” she said. “I’m worried about that last gun emplacement. If there are Chessori in there, they might shoot me down if I have to use a ship. I wonder if we can take it out with Walters’ gun?”

Waverly’s lips pursed. “You might lose Walters and his men in the process. The guns are probably evenly matched.”

“Then maybe we need to tilt the scales a little. See if your men can get up to speed on the other two guns. I’m going to talk to Walters. Which one is he in?”

“That one,” Waverly said, pointing. The fighting had been going on for hours, and Reba was exhausted, but she left in a hurry, limping as fast as she could. Val was never far from her thoughts, and she knew he was suffering from the scree, but the only thing she could do to help him was try to end it.

Then she had a thought. She spoke into her communicator to Waverly. “Do you think you could send someone to find Val and stun him?”

Waverly understood instantly. “He’s at headquarters. I’ll see it gets taken care of. We might do the same for Korban and his men.”

When she reached the gun emplacement, she had no idea how to get in. Waverly, though, had anticipated her need and called ahead. The door opened, and she stared into the muzzles of two blasters.

“Sergeant Walters at your service, Ma’am.”

“Walters, you deserve a medal,” she announced. “I expect I’ll be taking a ship up soon, and I don’t want the last gun emplacement shooting me down. Think you can take it out?”

His eyebrows rose in surprise. “I don’t know!” He considered, then said, “We’ll have to see if this thing can fire that low. The AI is probably programmed to prevent shooting its own facilities.”

“Let’s find out,” she invited.

The gun could angle itself low enough, but the AI was programmed to prevent shooting its own guns on the space port. Reba went into the net with Walters and worked with the AI. It was not in the same class as the AI’s on ships, but the job was not nearly as complex, so it didn’t have to be. Nevertheless, it was still a computer, and it could not overcome its programming. Reba tried another tack.

“Computer, it’s time for maintenance. You’re going to shut yourself down. Can you do that?”

“Yes.”

“Can we use the gun while you’re shut down?”

“Yes, but only under manual control.”

“Okay, I want you to aim at the gun emplacement we’ve been talking about. You are not going to fire.”

“Done.”

“Okay, you’re going to shut down, but bring yourself back in five minutes. Can you do that?”

“Yes.”

“Execute,” she commanded.

The AI’s presence evaporated, but the shields, targeting, and firing controls still functioned. It would be much more difficult to hit a moving target under these conditions, but their target was not moving.

Reba and Walters left the net. He was pretty concerned. “You know, that gun will be an even match for me.”

“I know. You’re going to give me two hours, then open up on it. I’ll be in a ship somewhere out there, and I’ll open up on the gun as soon as I see your first shot. See if you can get the two other gun emplacements to join you.”

“You’re going to fire a ship’s weapons from the ground?” he asked in surprise.

“If I can. If I can’t, I’ll get word back to you before your first shot.”

She took off at a fast limp and rounded up a crew of experienced gunners, then headed for the largest ship on the field, a frigate. Reba had never been on, let alone flown, a frigate. Frigates were multi-storied fortresses literally sprouting with guns. The guns of a frigate were not as powerful as those of a cruiser, but what the frigate lacked in power it made up in numbers. The very presence of a frigate moving in on bands of smugglers or pirates brought instant surrender.

Reba had to ask the AI for directions to the bridge. Along the way, she found Empire crewmembers scattered around the ship, all in the throes of the scree. Her men stunned everyone they found, and Reba speeded up the process by directing searchers from the net. Then everyone plugged in, got situated, and Reba prepared to lift the ship.

She didn’t want to take off in case the gun emplacement had orders to shoot her down, but she had no choice. She had to lift her ship above the ships parked between her and the gun emplacement. She lifted, and the moment she did so, she came under fire. The gun crew must have been watching her power up her shields and known she was going to take off.

The shot was devastating, immediately causing a shield to fail. The next shot followed immediately on its heels, and the ship was holed. She was in serious trouble, and she had another half hour before Walters would be ready. She lifted higher and turned the ship until it pointed directly at the offending gun. She never had to issue an order to fire – her gunners opened up with every gun under their control.

Walters must have been watching her power up. The moment the battery opened fire on her, he opened fire on it. The battery shook hard, but it kept firing at an incredible rate. Fire from her ship and Walters’s battery poured into the enemy battery, but the defenses were too strong to penetrate. Then the other two batteries joined in. The Chessori shields quickly failed, then an immense fireball rose from its location, followed closely by a huge explosion.

When the air cleared, there was only a smoking hole in the ground with a few remnants of structure poking out of it.

Reba set the ship down, but she kept her crew together, issuing orders to move to the only other frigate on the line. She no longer wanted this one, it was damaged. Someone else would have to see to repairs.

She got settled into the other frigate and waited to see what developed. She and Waverly stayed in constant contact; anything he knew, she would know.

It took a full ten hours to clear the military side of the port. Waverly glared wearily at the civilian ships standing on the other side of the field. The scree still sounded, and it had to be coming from there.

“Only one way to do this,” he said to his adjutant, now truly exhausted. “One by one.”

“Any idea where the scree is coming from?” Reba asked Waverly over the comm link.

“No idea at all. We haven’t secured all the buildings here at the port, and it could be coming from anywhere in the city,” he replied calmly. “We don’t know the range of the thing, but my money is on the civilian ships.”

“I’m worried that we could be attacked from a ship in orbit,” she replied, “but I don’t want to be out of position on the far side of the planet if someone comes in. I’ll just stay here and be ready to go if needed.”

Hours later, as Waverly and his men slowly worked their way through the civilian ships and buildings, a Chessori trader came streaking in at low altitude from the west. The moment it appeared, two Chessori traders parked on the far side of the field took off. Reba lifted her ship to attack, but to her amazement, both traders were taken out by the three weapons platforms on the field. She grinned at the thought of Walters and his crew getting another chance to use their newest toy.

Reba followed the first trader and allowed it to reach orbit, then set her own gunners on it. The trader’s weapons were insignificant against a frigate, and her gunners quickly prevailed. As the Chessori turned into a brief, roiling fireball, the scree ended.

When she returned to Orion III, she made her way to Korban’s office. Her Raiders were still clearing buildings in the city and at both space ports, but Korban’s men were getting back on their feet and taking over as quickly as Waverly could brief the commanders. All that remained was a mopping up exercise, and everyone knew it.

Val met her outside Korban’s office with a shaky embrace, still recovering from his own ordeal with the scree. Korban came out into the foyer to greet her, offering a deep bow.

“My Lady, you and your men have saved the day.”

She collapsed into a chair, returning his bow with a stern glare. “The day, perhaps. How goes it for Chandrajuski?”

“Struthers’ reinforcements have not yet arrived. Chandrajuski just called the rest of his ships into the system, and that should put them in front of the Rebels. I’d like to help him, but you’ve told me my sailors will be completely ineffective against the scree. Now that I’ve experienced it myself, I’m convinced.”

She considered long and hard, then looked to Val. He raised his eyebrows and said, “Korban has seven squadrons, four of them in excellent condition, the others lacking only crew. Unfortunately, you’re the only pilot we have who is immune.”

She looked at Waverly. “Then we’ll just have to train some more, eh?”

He shook his head. “I’ll give you all the gunners you want, but my guys are not psychologically fit to be pilots. It’s a whole different mindset from ground fighting.”

“I know, but we’re sitting at the bottom of a gravity well with everyone falling toward us. What if Chandrajuski’s forces lose, or what if they let a squadron or two get through? We’re dead meat. I’d like to set up a last ditch defense. We can forget the small ships. How about if we just try to man the cruisers?”

“We could just as well make plans to get out of here if necessary.”

“We could, Jim. They’re your men. It’s your call.”

Waverly stared at her, then looked to Val, then Korban. His lips tightened. “We’re not just here to rescue this sector. We’re here to defend Earth. We’ll stay, and we’ll fight even if they land. We’ll make plans for both contingencies. I’ll personally select your pilots, but I beg you to find a better solution.”

Korban issued orders to all seven of his squadrons to return to the planet. Reba would pilot one cruiser, and eighteen Raiders were chosen to fly the other six. The plan was Reba’s, and though it was unorthodox, she would train three pilots to fly each ship. Only one could do the actual flying, but that one pilot would be coached and helped by two others.

Val shook his head at the audacity of these Terrans, but he jumped in with both feet to help with the training.