The Price of Conquest

Kressa stood in the massive cavern that formed the new Guard base's hangar and watched the activity as Guard personnel prepared for the attack on the Patrol transports.

According to Keth B'Okhaim, two transports would deliver the weapons and other supplies to the old Guard base, each with a two-ship fighter escort. Thanks to a switch of fueling transports, the base's fighters and other ships would remain grounded for the battle's duration. With luck, the escort fighters would be the only ones they needed to worry about

She looked around again and shook her head in amazement. What was she doing here? She had decided years ago she wasn't cut out to be a soldier, yet here she was, a willing part of the planned attack.

A new report came over the comm a moment later: The target ships would arrive late.

Kressa sighed. That meant extra time to dwell on what could happen. Thankfully, none of their plans depended on split-second timing; nothing could or would commence until the transports began their final approach to Arecia.

She joined the Guard commander giving last-minute instructions to the pilots of the two small but well-armed freighters she had helped hire to serve as air cover. She'd briefly considered lending the Conquest to the fracas, but the big freighter did not have the in-atmosphere maneuverability necessary for that kind of fighting, not to mention that there'd been no chance to repair the damage sustained in their escape from Eminence.

A Guard soldier trotted up. "The transports have changed their escort," he said. "They've got a single light cruiser and no fighters."

"They're probably counting on air support from the base," one of the freighter pilots said. "That's been taken care of though, right, Bryant?"

She nodded.

Halav and a half dozen squad leaders joined them.

"How's the shoulder?" Kressa asked Halav.

He flexed it distractedly. "Fine. Is everything set to go?"

The gathered commanders nodded.

"General Kamick," a th'Maran called from nearby.

Kressa looked toward the source of the voice, surprised to recognize Rafan, one of the th'Maran she'd brought from Varen. Two other th'Maran stood with him. She took hold of Halav's arm as he turned to acknowledge Rafan's call.

He glanced at her. "What?"

She nodded toward the th'Maran. "They can't come with us."

Halav frowned. "They're Guard soldiers, Kressa. They volunteered." He pulled out of her grasp and jogged to where Rafan waited.

Kressa stared after him, pondering her strange reaction to the thought of Rafan and the others accompanying them. Th'Maran were intelligent, free-thinking beings, capable of making their own decisions about fighting with the Guard. But the decision felt wrong. Something about the th'Maran suggested a wisdom and serenity beyond their willingness to fight.

She pursed her lips. If only she could discover what was different about them, where they came from, why they were here, maybe then she could understand her feelings.

"All right, let's move!" The order echoed through the hangar, sending soldiers scurrying toward the troop carriers assigned to take them to the battle site.

Kressa started to follow, but a hand on her shoulder stopped her. She looked up into Halav's tawny eyes.

"Sorry I snapped at you, Kres. I know you think the th'Maran are something special, and I'm not disagreeing with you, but this is their fight, too."

She gave a curt nod and turned to leave.

"Kressa…"

She looked back.

"I'm sorry."

She nodded again.

He stepped in front of her, placed both hands on her shoulders, and gazed deep into her eyes. "Listen, kid, you're just one of the numbers now," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "Do me a favor and keep your head down. No heroic stuff. Westlex will never forgive me if I don't keep you in one piece."

She arched an eyebrow. "Just Westlex?"

He gave her a small smile. "Okay, me too. Stay safe."

She gave him a quick kiss on the cheek, turned, and hurried to the troop carrier that would take her to the battle.

* * *

Kressa went over the Guard's plan one last time as they neared their destination. She knew that no strategy survived the first few minutes of action, but she needed something to keep her mind from dwelling on all the things that could go wrong.

The attack would begin once the Patrol transports landed in the collapsed volcanic caldera that contained the old Guard base. The two freighters she'd helped hire would tackle the cruiser escort while the Guard's handful of fightercraft would work on controlling the base's heavy pulse cannons. Her job, like most of the others on the troop carriers, was to help capture the transports and get them off the base in one piece.

"Prepare to disembark!" The troop carrier's pilot informed his passengers of the proximity of their target.

The ship's braking thrusters ignited with a muffled whoosh. Anti-aircraft fire bucked against its shields, and Kressa hoped the fighters were out there doing their jobs.

The carrier settled onto its landing gear with a lurch, and the doors dropped open. The men and women nearest the openings swept from the ship and spread out, laying down cover fire for those who followed. Kressa dashed out with the second group.

Pulse guns and laser rifles flared against the Patrolmen who stood to meet them. Twenty meters behind the Patrol soldiers, the target transports squatted on the landing field, their airlocks opened to disgorge defending soldiers. Beyond the ships, the caldera's rock walls reached craggy fingers into the evening sky.

The Patrolmen kept back from the Guard carriers, firing from a distance. Kressa surged toward the front of the pack of soldiers she came with, closer to the nearest transport. A sudden electric tingle charged the air.

"Get down!" someone shouted, and Kressa dived forward.

The beam from a pulse cannon crackled above her.

Around her, Guard soldiers fell to the onslaught of the big gun. Many did not get up again.

Kressa raised her head and looked around. Her squad had to complete their charge or fall back to the troop carrier and lose all of the ground they'd gained.

The squad leader waved them on, and Kressa scrambled to her feet. They pushed forward and broke through the line of Patrol soldiers through sheer momentum, but the clear path to the transport cost them nearly half their number.

Still near the head of the group, Kressa reached the transport and rolled to safety behind one set of the ship's landing gear. The cannon swept the field again. Several of Kressa's squad, plus a handful from another group, joined her under the transport to escape the deadly beam.

An instant later, a resounding explosion rocked the base as a Guard fighter scored a hit on one of the cannons.

Kressa craned her neck and peered out from under the transport. Pulse beams from the fighters and remaining cannon filled the darkening sky. Above the airspace held by the fighters, the Patrol cruiser and two Guard freighters swept into view. The freighters buzzed almost gracefully around the warship, but what the cruiser lacked in mobility, it more than made up for in firepower. As Kressa watched, one of the freighters lurched and dove from a direct hit.

A touch on Kressa's shoulder drew her attention back to the ground. The th'Maran Esan crouched behind her. He pointed across the landing pad.

A group of Guard soldiers had cleared the airlock of the far transport and stormed on board.

One down, one to go.

A pulse blast burned past Kressa. She ducked, then came up firing. An approaching Patrolman fell to her shot. She glanced over her shoulder to find Esan clutching a wound on his arm.

"Get on board the transport as soon as it's safe," she said. "I'll clear the way."

He nodded, and she scanned their surroundings. The firefight had moved beyond the transport under which they hid. Except for a handful of Patrolmen engaged in the action before them, the boarding ramp stood unguarded.

Kressa made her way to the ramp under the ship's belly. She withdrew a small concussion grenade from a pocket on her armored vest, tossed it toward the soldiers, and dove for cover under the ship.

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The grenade went off with a low whump, followed by the multiple thuds of the collapsing Patrolmen.

The unguarded airlock drew the nearby Guard soldiers, Esan among them, and they swarmed in, triumphant. The last man up the ramp beckoned to Kressa, but she waved him on. She would get out on one of the troop carriers after both of the transports were safely away.

The airlock door clanged shut above her, and she risked a glance from beneath the ramp.

Guard soldiers had captured both transports, but the Patrol forces had no intention of letting them take off with their prizes. The single remaining pulse cannon swung about to bear on the impossible-to-miss targets of the grounded ships. Above the base, the cruiser and Guard vessels had disappeared. Many of the Guard soldiers were aboard the transports; the rest were working their way back to the troop carriers.

The cannon flared unhampered at the captured ships' shields, but a squad of Guard soldiers were fighting their way toward the big gun. Kressa spotted Cody among them.

A hollow clunk echoed from above her, followed by a mechanical whir drowned out an instant later by the roar of the transport's drive. The boarding ramp began to rise for liftoff. Backwashed air from the transport's thrusters swept around her, hot as the discharge from a furnace, and the beam from the pulse cannon seared across the rising ramp. Static crackled in the air, and the sharp smell of ozone filled Kressa's nostrils.

It was time to leave.

She dashed into the open, turning her gun on anything that moved, and dashed toward the nearest troop carrier. The pilot signaled to the last of the people making their way to the ship. Kressa pelted across the final stretch of open ground at a dead run. Behind her, a rumble shook the air as the transports lifted skyward.

Two Patrolmen appeared from beneath the carrier in front of Kressa. She swung her gun to bear on the first man, but a blast from his counterpart's hand laser forced her to duck. Her shot went wild, and she took aim again.

The first man hit the ground and rolled. She shot at his cohort, but he dove for the ground beside his partner.

Too late, Kressa realized the first man's intention. She swung her weapon back, but not fast enough.

The Patrol soldier had gained a position beneath one of the carrier's open hatches. He swung his arm in an arc over his head. A grenade sailed in through the open door.

"No!" Kressa froze, aware she could do nothing to help.

The Patrolmen scrambled away from the ship.

Kressa started to fire at them, but the Guard soldiers she'd noted earlier had succeeded in capturing the remaining pulse cannon. The man at the controls cut down the fleeing soldiers with a single sweep of the big gun.

An instant later, the grenade detonated.

The shock wave hit Kressa with the feel of a solid wall. She slammed into the ground, and her pulse gun flew from her grasp. She lay still for several seconds, stunned, and struggled to catch her breath. An awful silence hung over the carrier. Dazed, she risked a look.

The ship's frame squatted amongst bits of flaming wreckage and unmoving bodies.

She started to rise, realized what she'd seen, and froze again. The men who had blown up the carrier were not regular Patrol soldiers. They wore the regalia and armor of an admiral's Special Corps, and where there was one pair of Corpsmen, there were sure to be more.

Kressa lay still. An enemy soldier might mistake her for dead or wounded as long as she made no sudden moves.

The sound of a lifting ship rumbled across the pad. She moved only her eyes to watch as another Guard troop carrier took off. Above it, the two captured transports climbed higher. Above them, a Patrol heavy cruiser descended out of the darkening sky.

A piercing whistle sliced into Kressa's awareness. She covered her head and rolled in instinctive reaction to the well-remembered warning.

A laser blast scored the pavement where she had lain an instant before. She scrambled to her feet, and a second shot burned close behind her. She ran for what little protection the carrier's shattered hulk could provide, drew her stunner, and cast about for a target.

Thirty meters to her right, a Special Corps officer stood in an alley between two of the base's outbuildings. He pointed his laser rifle at her.

She ducked behind a ragged section of the troop carrier's frame. The air sizzled, and the odor of burnt hair stung her nose.

Movement flashed in the alley behind the Corpsman. In the dim light between the buildings, Kressa recognized Cody's wiry form. The Corpsman spun and fired at the boy. Cody returned his shot, turned, and ran. The Corpsman started into the tangle of buildings after him.

Determined not to waste the chance Cody's actions had bought her, Kressa dashed for the nearest building. It put her closer to the Corpsman but gave her a place to hide and a chance to help Cody.

She found refuge between two of the structures and tried to look in all directions at once. Corpsmen usually worked in pairs, but she saw no sign of this one's partner.

Moving quickly but quietly, she made her way to the end of the building and peered around the corner. Cody was climbing atop a truck parked beside a nearby structure. From there, he leaped upward, caught the edge of the building's roof, pulled himself up, and crept to the far edge. He drew his gun, took careful aim below him, and pulled the trigger.

Nothing happened.

He slipped the drained weapon into its holster beneath his jacket, drew a knife, and backed away from the edge.

Kressa made her way across the back of the building.

Cody relayed his position and plan with a series of whistles. The sound of a laser rifle interrupted his message, but another whistle assured her the boy had not been harmed.

She acknowledged his plan with a short whistled call and moved forward to peer between the buildings.

The Corpsman was watching the roof, but he turned suddenly, spotted her, and fired.

She snapped her head back, and then popped out again to fire her stunner. The man stood at the limit of the little gun's range, but he couldn't know that. He ducked aside, and she fired a second time.

Cody launched himself from the roof. The momentum of his leap drove the soldier to his knees. The boy's knife flashed, and the brief struggle ceased.

Kressa slipped around the corner. Cody stood up, the Corpsman's rifle clutched in bloody hands. He swung the weapon toward her.

She dove forward as he fired once, over her head.

A grunt sounded from above, and she rolled over in time to see another Corpsman collapse from the roof of the building behind her.

She gazed at Cody with a newfound sense of respect. "Thanks."

He grinned, changed in an instant from silent assassin to jovial compatriot. "I owed you one. Come on! Half my squad's trapped on the cannon. We gotta help 'em!" He started for the far end of the cluster of buildings at a run.

Kressa rolled to her feet, grabbed the second Corpsman's rifle, and ran to catch up with Cody.

They slowed as they neared the end of the cluster of buildings, crept to an opening near the cannon, and peered out.

The Guard soldiers in control of the pulse cannon were holding the remaining Patrolmen at bay with handheld weapons and the threat of the big gun, but they could not get off the gun tower. The Patrol soldiers would have a hard time moving in, but more ships could arrive any minute if Shaw had returned, something Kressa strongly suspected, given the presence of the heavy cruiser and the Corpsmen.

"How did the Corpsmen get here?" she asked Cody.

He jerked his head behind them toward the base's southwest corner. "They brought a shuttle. It's up on the ridge."

She gazed out at the wreckage on the landing pad. "Nothing out there's going to get us out of here. We'll need to take that shuttle. If we can punch a hole through those soldiers…" Not difficult, she realized, considering their position and the weapons they had captured. She pointed out targets for Cody, and then drew bead on her own.

She and Cody managed to put half a dozen Patrolmen out of commission before the others turned on them. Working together, they kept the Patrol soldiers busy while the Guard soldier at the cannon's controls used the weapon to clear a path for his companions' escape and then followed behind them. The Guard soldiers broke through the collapsing line of Patrolmen, and Kressa waved them on.

"Take them to the shuttle," she ordered Cody.

He balked, but a cross look sent him on his way.

She whistled good luck.

He returned the signal and disappeared into the pack of soldiers.

"Come on, Bryant!" one of the men called as he jogged by with the last of the group.

"I'm right behind you," she said and turned to follow.

An explosion boomed to the northwest. It lit the evening sky with the full light of day, and Kressa glanced up in time to see the remains of one of the transports falling toward the horizon. Vertical trails of dark smoke and flaming debris marked its demise.

She swallowed hard and hoped the second captured ship had escaped.

A dozen Patrol fighters streaked by overhead, headed straight for the Guard soldiers making their way to the shuttle.

Without taking the time to consider what she was about to do, Kressa turned and dashed back toward the pulse cannon. She used the laser rifle to remove the handful of Patrolmen who had started for the gun, and then pulled herself up the ladder.

Surprise cost the fighters dearly. In seconds, Kressa had cut their force in half.

Three of the remaining ships banked sharply, changing course for the cannon.

Kressa froze for an instant. She had to take them out or they would destroy the gun—and her with it. But protecting herself would allow the other fighters to cut off the shuttle's escape.

It wasn't much of a decision. She swung the cannon toward the shuttle's attackers and tried to ignore the ships diving at her.

The Guard soldiers boarded the shuttle and fired its engines. Another sweep of the cannon cleared their way.

Kressa leaped from the turret as shots from the attacking fighters sliced into its base. The gun exploded in a searing burst of light and heat, tossing her from the tower like a windblown leaf.

* * *

A sharp whistle roused Kressa, and she raised her head, aching and groggy. Night had fallen, but enough light remained for her to recognize a Patrol groundcar bearing down on her. Desperate, she scrambled backward, only to come up against the side of a building. She reached to her belt, drew her stunner, and raised it.

No, she thought. The whistle… That's Cody at the controls.

She pulled herself up against the rough wall at her back. The car braked to a stop beside her, and Cody threw open the door.

"Come on, Bryant. This is one you owe me!"

Still dazed, she slid into the car. "Where are the others?"

"They got out on the shuttle. I came back down to find you." He pushed a laser rifle into her hands. "You'll need to cover our escape."

She hefted the gun, stuck it out the open window beside her, and peered behind them for targets. Cody powered the car toward the main gate. Seconds later, the frontlights of two groundcars pulled in behind them.

Kressa fired, but the armored skin of the pursuing vehicles deflected the bright beam.

"Hold on!" Cody jerked the wheel hard to the left to begin the climb out of the valley.

The car balked, and then found the power. It roared up the steep mountain road.

Kressa caught a glimpse of a large pulse gun mounted on one of the vehicles behind them. An instant later, the gun's beam sideswiped their car and it slammed into the rock wall beside the roadway.

Kressa grabbed for support, but pain exploded in her head, and the world went black.