Chapter 28

Anny found C Company just a few minutes before the enemy did.

The regiment had been deployed behind a low ridge that shielded them from where the EnBees were debouching from their base. Anny had been wondering if it would have been smarter to engage them while they were trying to deploy, hit them before they could get organized, before they were ready. But no, without knowing more of the enemy's capabilities that might have led to disaster. There could be weapons built into the volcano itself, remotely activated minefields, and God knew what else. And then there was the MPDC; they had no clue of its capabilities. It clearly had formidable anti-ship weaponry, but could those weapons be turned against ground targets? A gravitic imploder lance could shear off the top of that ridge and annihilate anything standing on it. No, their mission was to delay the enemy, buy as much time as they could to let the Alliance forces concentrate. A sudden attack by the regiment might win the battle at a stroke, but it could lose it at a stroke just as easily and then the EnBees could just stroll into Araxa. The Colonel had made the right call.

Their battle line was about ten kilometers long, which meant the men were crammed together in a formation that was practically shoulder to shoulder for assault troopers. They had a hell of a concentration of firepower—but then so did the enemy. 1st Battalion was posted on the left of the line, but with the rifle companies posted A, B, C, from left to right, C Company was snugly placed close to the center. No open flanks for once—good. 2nd Battalion—and Jer—were on the right, and 3rd was in the center with one of its companies held in reserve.

The area was mostly farmland with a few woods and orchards scattered here and there with houses and barns interspersed. Small groups of civilians were fleeing southward past them as she and Sergeant Wood bounded in the opposite direction toward C Company. She activated her external speakers and shouted at them to hurry and don't stop for anything. She just hoped the EnBees weren't desperate enough to use nukes against ground targets. That might have turned the whole civilized galaxy against them, but it would be small comfort for the scorched remains of these civilians—and the 61st. Even without nukes, this place is going to be an inferno any minute!

A few moments later, they passed through groups of the local militia troops who were still moving into position. They looked young, scared, and horribly vulnerable. Nothing but their thin ballistic vests stood between them and sudden death. Anny hoped that there would be no need to commit them, but she knew it was unlikely that they'd be able to stay out of it.

They reached the C Company deployment area and she reported in to Captain Vorstang, who sounded very harried, but also glad to see her back. She bounded to her platoon and took over from Ensign Milroy, who also seemed very glad to see her. In fact, the whole platoon shouted greeting to her over the com despite the standing orders for no non-business chatter. Sergeant Wood was welcomed back just as warmly.

But there was no time for any more than that. "Heads up!" commanded Vorstang. "Here they come! Weapons free, fire when you have a target."

Indeed, the icons on the tactical display were creeping up to the crest of the ridge. Another minute or so and the fun would begin. Anny activated her platoon circuit. "Okay, everyone, just like a drill. Pick your targets carefully, leave the fully shielded bogies to the men with the mass-drivers if you can. Use cover and reposition frequently. Preserve your own shields—you're sure to need them later. Good luck." She switched to the private circuit with her platoon sergeant. "Sorry, I'm late, Sergeant. Everything good with the boys?"

"Better late than never, sir—lots better!" replied Sergeant Kay. "The boys are just fine, sir. A few of the new lads are a bit overeager, but I've got some of the veterans looking after them to make sure they don't get into trouble."

"Good. We can't afford to lose anyone unnecessarily. Not today. And you watch out for yourself, too. You hear me, Malcom?" There was a bit of a pause before he replied. She'd never called him by his first name before.

"Uh, yes sir. But begging your pardon, you're a fine one to be telling others to watch out for…"

"Incoming fire!"

Anny instinctively ducked, but she instantly saw that the threat was from indirect fire. The EnBees had paused just behind the ridge and let loose with a barrage of missiles, mortars and artillery. The projectiles were arcing up and over and down—right on the 61st. She was about to shout to her men to take cover when another message came through on the general circuit:

"All units assume air-defense mode. Engaging!"

Her armor suddenly started moving on its own. She, and everyone else in the regiment, had been transformed into an air-defense turret. A central computer at HQ had decided to add the firepower of the infantry to its own resources. Her plasma arc swung skyward and started blasting away at something. Everyone around her was doing the same thing.

The sky, which until a moment ago had been a pleasant blue with fluffy white clouds, was now filled with crisscrossing energy bolts and exploding ordnance. The air defense platoons were firing their own lasers and mass drivers but the entire regiment was joining in and with that much firepower, the EnBee salvos were being swatted out of the air before they could do much harm.

Not much harm—but not none, either.

A few projectiles were eluding the defenses and while most of the ordnance was simple high explosive, some of them had more sophisticated terminal guidance motors which turned them into tiny hunter-killer missiles. A handful of men from the regiment became casualties—none from C Company, fortunately, although there were several explosions close by.

Anny looked at her tactical display worriedly. She wasn't happy about having her armor co-opted like this. While it was effective, it also left you standing out in the open like a clay pigeon if something other than artillery was shooting at you. It wouldn't be long before the EnBees realized they were wasting ammunition and came boiling over the ridge. They needed to be ready for that.

Indeed, after a few more seconds, the enemy started moving again. Anny wasn't sure why they'd expended all that ordnance. Perhaps they didn't know the regiment could do what it did. Maybe they'd just screwed up. That was a pleasant thought. Who was in command over there? That General Way-too-many-titles? What sort of combat experience did he have? How badly had her escape upset his plans? That was an even more pleasant thought.

"Disengage from air defense mode. Prepare to engage enemy ground forces." Anny blinked. The voice was a different one. Not the sir defense officer. It sounded like… Fetherbay? "Good luck to you all. Remember that Barrayar's eyes are on you today. For the Emperor!"

For the Emperor!

Anny roared it out with all the rest, her skin tingling.

[Scene Break]

"Okay, here they come," said Jer Naddel. "Looks like they are sending in a screen of skimmers first. Hold your fire and leave those to the infantry. They're just trying to get us to reveal ourselves so they can call in artillery on us. Wait for the heavier stuff to expose itself. You hear me, Sergeant Pasquale?" The man commanding the number two heavy mass driver was notoriously trigger happy.

"Sure, Lieutenant, no problem," came Pasquale's reply. "I'll have plenty of good targets today, I'm thinking."

"That's for sure," muttered Jer. "But make every shot count." Because we probably won't get too many. That was the big problem, of course: Jer's heavy weapons were devastatingly effective, so the enemy would go to great pains to knock them out as quickly as they could locate them. They had found as much cover and concealment as they could in the limited time they'd had to get ready, but it wasn't going to be enough he warranted. He switched circuits to speak to his platoon sergeant. "You get those mines and missile launchers handed out, Sarge?"

"Yes sir," replied Shusterman at once. "The boys have as many as they can carry. I stashed all the rest back by that shed."

"Good." In addition to their heavy guns, the anti-tank platoon had a number of one-shot missile launchers and mines which could either be buried where a vehicle might run over them, or attached directly to a vehicle's hull if you could get close enough. It was inevitable that they'd lose their big mass drivers before long, but that wouldn't mean their job was done. Not today. Today they had to be ready to fight to the last.

Last man, last shot, last gasp.

A ping came over his com and a tiny light flashed on the edge of his tactical display.

"Dammit!" he snarled. It was Anny! He'd set up a special routine to keep track of Anny's beacon on the battlefield. But she was supposed to be back at HQ! She'd just been rescued from a week's captivity, what the hell was she doing here? Blast the girl! Didn't she have any sense?

Last man… last woman, too… as if I need anything else to worry about…

An explosion near at hand brought his mind back where it belonged. The EnBee skimmer screen had come over the ridge. They were small one-man grav vehicles, fast and agile, meant for scouting. They usually carried plasma arcs and had light shielding. Dangerous, but not worth a shot from his heavy stuff. They were blasting away, apparently at random, as they advanced. A bolt had blown the limb off a tree a dozen meters to his right. Trying to draw our fire.

Meanwhile more artillery was starting to rain down. With the Regiment released from air defense duties, a lot more of the incoming fire was getting through and explosions began to burst all over. But it wasn't nearly as heavy as those first few salvos had been. The EnBees must have had a lot of one-shot launchers and they'd wasted them. Good.

Despite the enemy fire, so far the 61st wasn't replying. They'd been given permission to fire, but the squad leaders knew enough to wait. A few bolts blasted back at the enemy here and there, fired by nervous replacements, probably, but most knew enough to wait. Wait and let the enemy get a little closer…

Jer checked the status of his platoon again to make sure everyone was ready. Unfortunately, he didn't really have much of a platoon at this point. First and second squads, the ones with the man-portable rail guns, heavy plasma arcs and missile launchers, had all been detached, spread out among the other three companies in the battalion, to beef up their firepower. It was standard procedure, but it left Jer with only the two heavy mass drivers of the third squad plus a half dozen men he'd held back to make a 'trouble squad' if he needed them. He knew he probably would. It was really just a sergeant's command now, but it was his and he was determined that it was going to shine today.

Of course, in addition to his own platoon he also had his militia company. With the sudden nature of the crisis, the higher-ups didn't have any specific plan to use the militia, so they'd simply told the troops to tag along with the Barrayaran officer who had been training them. Right now Sergeant Flora Levine and the rest of them were huddled in a drainage ditch about 800 meters to his rear. He hoped they were keeping their heads down with all the artillery coming in. He really hoped he wasn't going to have to throw them into this fight. They didn't have the equipment, training or mindset for a stand-up battle like this. He clicked over to the circuit that would allow him to speak to Levine. "Sergeant? How are you doing back there?"

"We are fine, sir," came the immediate reply. "Well, one of the men in second platoon got a cut on his shoulder from shrapnel, but it's bandaged up and he is fine, too. Some of the shelling has come close. This is all very exciting, sir! Do you need us to come forward?"

"Not yet. Stay there and wait for my call."

"Yes, sir." Jer could hear the disappointment in her voice. Did she think this was some sort of damn game?

"You stay put, Flora! I mean it! You will see plenty of action, I promise. But stay where you are for right now. Understand?"

"Yes sir."

"Getting close, sir," said Sergeant Shusterman, breaking in.

"Right. Gotta go."

The skimmers were well over the crest of the ridge now and coming on fast. The next wave of vehicles had fallen behind and were just now reaching the top. For a few moments the skimmers had no support.

The troopers saw it and took advantage. Fire erupted all along the line. Plasma arcs and rail guns mostly, but a few missiles as well. The upper portion of the ridge disappeared in clouds of dust and smoke. At least to the naked eye it disappeared. To the sophisticated sensors available to Jer, he could see exactly what was happening. EnBee skimmers were exploding right and left or tumbling end over end as the regiment's fire tore into them. He zoomed the view in using the armor's telescopic sights and he could see that some of the drivers were flinging themselves off the vehicles in mid-air, apparently in hopes of escaping into some concealing hole in the ground. Well, they wanted to know where we were. Now they know!

The enemy artillery started coming heavier again and it was much better aimed now, pounding the positions the fire had come from. Not much hit in Jer's vicinity since they hadn't fired yet, but that was about to change. Larger EnBee vehicles had crested the ridge and were adding their fire to that of the artillery, trying to root out the 61st's infantry. A squadron of light tanks appeared along the skyline a little to his right and about 2000 meters away. There were some targets worth a shot!

"Okay, we're open for business! Third platoon pick two targets per gun, only two! Fire on my command and then scoot! Displace to your secondary positions immediately! Don't stand around to admire your work! Signal me when you are ready."

It was only a few seconds before both guns reported that they had their targets.

"Ready… fire!"

The mass drivers gave off four thunderbolt cracks so closely spaced as to seem one long detonation. Streaks of bright red light—the vaporizing outer layer of the rounds—briefly linked the guns to their targets. The enemy tanks had plasma mirrors, but the mass drivers weren't firing plasma. They also had conventional force screens, which could stop or deflect smaller sized projectiles. But they weren't strong enough to stop what hit them now. The rounds tore through the force screens and then tore through the thin armor plating behind. Three of the four tanks exploded and the fourth spun around, spewing smoke, and then crashed into a tree.

The gunners already had their pieces on the move, sliding them back into a gully which gave them defilade and then floating them off to their secondary firing positions a few hundred meters to the right. It was smartly done and a damn good thing, too. A storm of fire descended on the position they had just left, tearing the trees and brush to flaming shreds and tossing gouts of earth skyward. Jer hurried ahead of his troops to guide them into place.

The enemy tanks had regrouped and were trying to rush forward, perhaps thinking to catch Jer's men on the move. They might have, too, except they ran into the men of G Company who were dug in a few hundred meters in advance of the gun line. The more lightly armed troopers were still a threat to the tanks and they were forced to a halt as plasma and missile fire erupted, seemingly out of the ground. Two more tanks were knocked out, but the rest were blasting back at their tormentors.

"Come on! Come on!" cried Jer. "Those boys need our help!" The grav sleds of the mass drivers coasted up into their new positions. "Fire at will! Let 'em have it!"

Sergeant Pasquale's gun was ready first and blew the turret off an enemy tank with one shot. The other gun claimed a victim a few seconds later. This was too much for the EnBees and they retreated as quickly as they could, losing three more of their number before they found cover. Jer's troops gave a cheer.

"Save it, you lunks!" snapped Sergeant Shusterman. "This party's barely begun!"

Jer looked at the mass of red dots on his tactical display and knew that his platoon sergeant was right.

It's gonna be a long day.

[Scene Break]

The flier bounced to a hard landing on one of the pads of the enormous base near the city of Araxa. Alby slapped the hatch release and motioned Lord Vorpatril, his wife, Russo Gupta, and the three other civvies forward. "Okay, you should be safe here. Get clear of the vehicle and I'll see you later!" he snapped, resisting the urge to just grab the people and toss them out. They had to get moving!

"Thank you, Lieutenant…" began Lady Vorpatril as she stepped down onto the concrete, but he had already hit the button to close the hatch and turned away.

"Personnel delivered as ordered!" he shouted to the pilot. "Get this crate moving, ensign! Back to Tamborete!"

"Sorry, Lieutenant, no can do," answered the pilot. "The whole island has been declared an interdiction zone. Nothing's flying in or out."

"Damn it!" snarled Alby thumping his way into the cockpit. He loomed over the pilot, who cringed back slightly, squeezing himself down into his seat. "I gave you an order, Ensign. Just get us close."

"Sir! I can't do it!" protested the man. "That damn… thing the enemy's got will blow us out of the sky before we could even get there! It's already knocked down two of our shuttles who didn't get clear in time!"

"If you stayed low…" persisted Alby.

"To get low enough I'd need a submarine, not a flier. It'd be suicide, sir!"

"The ensign is right, Alby," said Rad Benin coming up behind him. "To get back there we would have to swim."

"Then we'll swim! Damn it, Rad! Our friends are getting killed over there!"

"I am well aware of that." The tone in Rad's voice was as close to angry as Alby had ever heard. The man had been itching to prove his courage in combat and now he was missing out again. Alby didn't give a damn about proving anything, but Anny and Jer and Patric were back there in what was going to be a desperate battle. He belonged there with them!

"But to try to return using just our armor would take hours," continued Rad. "We would be far too late."

"We've got to do something, damn it!"

"Perhaps we can be of use here. The battle may well come to us in the end. We should report in to headquarters."

Alby slammed his armored fist against the bulkhead, making a sizable dent. The pilot sank even lower in his seat. Rad took hold of Alby's arm and pulled. "Come. Let's go."

Alby let loose a stream of profanity, but eventually followed the Cetagandan out of the vehicle. Vorpatril and the others were walking across the huge expanse of concrete toward the headquarters buildings in the distance. They quickly overtook them and then slowed their pace to match. "Stuck here, eh?" said Vorpatril, glancing at Alby.

"Yeah," grumped Alby. "No way to get back!"

"Well, come with us. I've got to report in to the big brass. Maybe General Vordanov will have some orders for you—I'm damn well sure Vorpinski will have some for me!"

"They better not be orders that take you back into danger!" said Lady Vorpatril forcefully. "You just got out of danger!" Her husband just shrugged. Alby stared at the man for a moment. According to Alby's father, while Vorpatril was a competent enough officer, he was well-known for a love of easy-living and a general lack of the martial qualities that most Vor romanticized. And yet… and yet the look on his face at this moment was that of a man who wanted to strike a blow. He's just as pissed as I am.

"Any chance I can get off this ball of dirt?" asked Gupta. "I need to report to the Admiral." Now there was a… man with no desire to strike a blow. Well, none of his friends are in danger.

As they neared the HQ, they could see the place was stirred up like a nest of bees. People running this way and that, all talking loudly and waving their hands. A level of bedlam that made the chaos back at regimental HQ look serene by comparison. Everyone got caught with their pants down.

Alby and Benin made full use of their battle armor to effortlessly push through the mob to the main situation room. There, amidst a forest of holo-displays, they found the top commanders of the Alliance; not just the Barrayaran bigwigs, but the Cetagandans, Earthers, Polians, everyone. Several sentries made a half-hearted attempt to block their entry until Vorpatril identified himself and they were waved through—even the kids, their mother, and Gupta. The place had already been crowded, now it was packed.

Vorpatril, trailed by his wife, squeezed through the throng in search of his boss. Alby and Rad just stood and looked over the holo displays. He didn't like what they were showing him. The main one was focused on the battle unfolding on the island of Tamborete. A thin line of blue icons was standing against a much larger swarm of red ones. It looked like a rickety dam trying to hold back a flood. One bigger red icon, the MPDC, was still well to the rear; it did not look as though it had moved away from the extinct volcano. Maybe it's not mobile yet; Anny said they were still working on it. Or maybe it's just stuck…

Other screens were showing the efforts to gather the far-flung and scattered forces of the Alliance and bring them back to Araxa. A surprising number of them appeared to be under attack. "The EnBees have committed everything they have," said Rad. "All their hidden forces. They are trying to delay our concentration."

"Yeah, damn them. Look, the 26th has got more bogies than a dog has fleas." The other assault regiment in the BEF was heavily engaged halfway around the planet. They wouldn't be arriving here any time soon.

"The enemy is putting everything on one throw of the dice. If they don't succeed, their forces here are going to be crushed. They will lose the war at a blow."

"Assuming we don't lose the war at a blow instead."

"That is the danger, yes."

"What about the damn navy? If the 61st could just get some orbital fire support!"

Rad pointed to a cluster of officers in blue and black navy uniforms who were studying another group of displays. They moved to get a better look and Alby was surprised to see the angry face of Admiral Quinn of the Dendarii Free Mercenaries on one of the smaller displays.

"There must be something you can do!" snapped a man wearing a Polian uniform. "We're certainly paying you enough!"

"You saw what happened to that frigate, didn't you, commodore?" she answered with some heat. "I've got a few heavier ships here, but not heavy enough to tangle with that thing! What you need are some battleships. A shame none of yours are around."

"You know perfectly well why they aren't!"

"Yeah, because you got suckered just like all the rest of us!"

Another officer, it looked like one of the Earthers, cut off the Polian's angry retort. "We understand that you dare not engage the MPDC, Admiral Quinn, but we could use your ships to help out our other forces elsewhere on the planet. If we can free up some of them, we can reinforce the Barrayaran troops on Tamborete."

Quinn took a breath and her expression smoothed out. "Now you're talking sense! And it's what I suggested doing in the first place, as you'll recall. Give me some targets and I'll get my people moving." This immediately brought a flurry of suggestions and demands that Quinn seemed hard-pressed to process. Naval support would definitely help the other Alliance forces on the planet, but it wouldn't bring any immediate aid to the 61st. Alby's eyes were drawn to another display showing the entire solar system with Novo Paveo at the center. A cluster of blue icons were far off to one side, the Alliance's main fleet. The vectors on the display said that it was accelerating toward Novo Paveo, but it was still a hell of a long way off. A couple of days, at least. Far, far too late. Wonder what Isabella is doing right now?

Alby was just about to turn away and go look over some other shoulders when a Barrayaran staff captain hurried up to him. "Vorsworth? General Vordanov is attaching you to his chief of intelligence, Colonel Gasparr. Park your armor somewhere and report to him."

"But…"

"That's an order, Lieutenant; get out of that can before you step on someone's toes. You get me?"

"I… yes, sir." Alby's shoulders slumped in defeat. There was no way he could get back to the fight. He might as well try to do some good here. "Come on, Rad, let's go."

They left their armor standing outside the building. A few minutes of scrounging found them some coveralls to wear over their undersuits and another couple of minutes searching led them to Colonel Gasparr. Alby had met the man once or twice during the bigger staff meetings. Not surprisingly, Gasparr had no time to spare for them. "Find something useful to do," was all he would say. They moved off.

"What do you suggest?" asked Benin.

Alby shrugged. "The last order I had before this all blew up was to see if I could find anything about that MPDC monster of the EnBees'. Guess I could carry on with that."

"Sounds like a good idea. Let's find a comconsole station we can use."

[Scene Break]

"All right! Third platoon, listen up!" said Anny. "We're gonna rush that woods and clear it out! Second Squad will provide covering fire; Milroy, you take third squad left and try to flank them. I'll take first squad up the middle. The EnBees are trying to set up some heavy weapons in there but we're not going to let them. We won't be able to hold there long, so be ready to pull out on my order. Got it?"

She quickly received affirmative replies from her squad leaders and Ensign Milroy. Their objective was a clump of trees about 400 meters away. Or they had once been trees; most of them were just smoldering trunks, stripped of foliage now by the savage fire that had swept the area. But they still provided some cover and the EnBees were moving in. She glanced at her platoon status display. She'd only lost five men so far, all but one to artillery. Three of the casualties had been evacuated and would probably make it—if anyone made it today—a fourth had been automatically put into cryo by his armor after taking a fatal hit. The fifth… well the fifth was already with the White Battalion.

Second Squad was taking up positions to provide covering fire. She'd assigned the job to them because they'd taken the brunt of a firefight a half hour earlier and their plasma mirrors were all pretty low. She wished she could get some fire support from the weapons company, but they were all busy. Major Vorglanov wanted this job done now and she couldn't wait.

She was about to give the command to go when her threat warning alerted her to incoming fire. Artillery. "Everyone down!" she ordered. A wave of explosions marched across her platoon's position, but they were ineffective. Just HE, none of those damn seeker-heads. Either the EnBee's were saving those or they'd used them all up. She hoped it was the latter case; her one really-dead man had been killed by one of them.

When the fire let up, she made a quick check to see that everyone was still ready. They were.

"Let's go!"

Second Squad opened up and she led First out of the ditch they'd been sheltering in. Flat out, a person could run a suit of power armor at speeds close to sixty KPH. She and her troopers did nearly that now and closed the distance to the enemy in less than twenty seconds. Some heavy fire erupted from the woods, but it was clear they'd caught the EnBees off guard. Some plasma splashed off her mirror and one of her men went down, plowing a furrow in the soil as he ground to a halt, but then she was in among the enemy.

A man in half-armor appeared in front of her. He was bringing up a mass driver, swinging the barrel in her direction. His armor would have a plasma mirror so she didn't even bother to fire her plasma arc. She closed on him and brought down her hammer in one swift motion. The pointed end caught the man on his shoulder and tore through the armor, crushing his upper torso. The blow slammed him to the ground and he didn't move. All around her the other men of First Squad were cutting down the EnBees. Moments later, Milroy appeared with Third Squad and finished the job. At least thirty of the enemy were down and twenty more had surrendered. A half-dozen grav sleds filled with gear and weapons floated there, abandoned. The whole fight hadn't lasted more than a minute.

"All right! Get those prisoners to the rear! Sergeant Rollins, collect all that gear and destroy it. Everyone else take cover but be ready to pull back on my command. Anyone else hurt?" There had been a few minor injuries, but except for Private Conran, nothing serious. A medic was with Conran and while he was alive, he was out of this fight. We were lucky. But another man gone. She checked the tactical display and saw that her small charge seemed to be attracting enemy attention. New forces were massing just out of sight and artillery was starting to fall on the position which only a short while ago had belonged to the EnBees. Anny called Captain Vorstang. "Captain? We cleaned them out. You want us to stay here or pull back?"

"Good work," came the reply. "Yes, get out of there before they can hurt you. Things are getting nasty over on the right flank and the Colonel is probably going to have the whole line fall back before much longer. I don't want you hanging out there when that happens."

Anny refused to let herself think about the right flank being where Jer was, and instead got her troops ready to move. Artillery was falling heavier and several of the prisoners were killed by their own guns on the way to the rear. Private Conran was evacuated and the enemy gear and grav sleds wired for demolition. On her signal the explosives were detonated and her troopers fell back the way they'd come. They attracted some fire, but they made it back with no further casualties. "Nicely done, people," she told them when they were under cover again. Once out of immediate harm's way, she took a moment to catch her breath and check the larger scale tactical display. Yeah, the EnBees seemed to be massing their efforts over on the right. There was a lot of pressure all along the line, but it was worst on the right and the line there was already bending back. As she watched, a new batch of graphics appeared outlining a position about two kilometers to the rear on the reverse slopes of another series of hills. The militia units were already moving back there to take up positions where they could provide as much covering fire as possible when the regiment fell back. Some of the heavier equipment was moving with them. She zoomed back in to look at her own section of the line and frowned. C Company's fall-back position didn't look nearly as strong as the one they were going to be leaving.

On the other hand, they had managed to bloody the EnBees pretty badly and hold them up. She was amazed to see that almost three hours had gone by since the action began. The enemy, either through overconfidence or desperation, had thrown themselves willy-nilly against the 61st without proper preparation or reconnaissance—and they'd paid for it. But now they were operating more cautiously and more professionally. Casualties among the Barrayarans were rising, plasma mirrors were getting low, and heavy weapons were being lost.

And there seemed to be no end to the enemy. Scores of burning vehicles and hundreds of dead littered the battlefield, but they just kept on coming. There were still forces exiting the volcano base and the MPDC had yet to come forward. The 61st was getting worn down. How much longer could they hold? At least she wasn't physically tired. They'd been ordered to dose themselves with Dynatrim and she felt like she could take on all the EnBees by herself. She wondered what the enemy was using? A few of the men she'd blasted down had seemed out of their minds with battle fury. Some armies did use mind-altering combat drugs on their troops; were the EnBees doing that?

The anticipated order to fall back was issued and C Company retreated by bounds. Fortunately, the enemy wasn't pressing them as hotly on this part of the line and they managed to pull it off while only losing two men from the other platoons. As Anny had feared from looking at the map, her new position wasn't very strong; not enough cover and way too much dead ground out in front for the enemy to mass in. But there was nothing for it; this was their assigned position and they couldn't move away from it without endangering the troops on either side of them. All she could do was tell her men to dig-in and then make the best of it. Their withdrawal had caught the enemy off guard and opened up a gap, leaving them some breathing space.

But that wouldn't last long.

[Scene Break]

"General Vordranov wants to evacuate all of us right away," said Ambassador Vorpinski. "Before the enemy's machine can interdict shuttle travel over Araxa as well."

Tej looked between Vorpinski and Ivan Xav and then glanced back at the three local civilians still tagging after her. They seem to have decided that she was their guardian or something. At least they'd stopped screaming and crying. But if they had to move again, would they be coming along? She suspected that this time the move would be to a ship in orbit. They might not be too happy about that. The very strange man from the Dendarii Mercenaries had disappeared, perhaps already on his way up.

Ivan Xav looked at her and then back at Vorpinski. "Surely not all of us, sir," he said.

What?

"That's what he implied…"

"Families and lower level staff, perhaps, sir. But how can the rest of us go?" There was a look on her husband's face that she'd never seen before. A hardness, a … resolve completely unlike his normal happy-go-lucky self. Vorpinski seemed surprised too, for a moment, but then he nodded.

"I tried to tell him that, but he had no time to listen. So you think we should stay, Ivan?"

"How can we do otherwise, sir?" He motioned to the tactical displays through the glass walls of the observation room where they stood. "Our men are dying out there."

"Yes."

Just then an officer—one of the lower ranking ones, a colonel she thought—came barging into the room. "My lord? We've gotten the shuttles ready. If you can assemble your people and get them out to the landing field we can get going. Please hurry, there's not much time."

Vorpinski cleared his throat. "Colonel, we will be evacuating our dependents and low-level staff, but the rest of us will be staying."

The man scowled. "The General was quite clear that you all would be going."

A small smile appeared on the ambassador's face and he tilted his head toward Ivan Xav.

Tej's husband didn't often become the Vor Lord; in fact she could only remember one or two times when he had, but now he did. He took a step forward. "What's your name, Colonel?"

"Uh, Falkenstein, my lord…" He took a half-step back. Ivan Xav took another step forward. He was quite a bit taller than the colonel and glared down at him.

"Well, you would seem to have forgotten, Colonel, that we are Vor. We may be idiots who do many strange things, but we are not cowards, and running away is not one of them. And if you or your general supposes His Majesty will be pleased by your treating his diplomats as poltroons, I suggest you think again." He tapped one booted foot. "Swiftly."

"I…I… very well, my lord," gobble the man. "I'll inform the General of your decision. But in the meantime, if you can assemble the people who will be going, I'd appreciate it."

"Certainly, colonel, happy to cooperate." The man withdrew. Swiftly.

"Nicely done, Ivan," smirked Vorpinski.

"Felt good, sir. Never got to give colonels their marching orders in my old job." He turned to look at her. "Better get your stuff together, love. They'll want to get those shuttles out of here as quick as they can."

Tej's eyebrows rose. "Oh really? And why should I care about that, dear? Since I won't be on one?"

"Tej…" started Ivan Xav, frowning, but she wasn't having it. She put her fists on her hips and stepped right up to him.

"Perhaps you have forgotten that due to that little thing we did with the groats back on Komarr, I'm Vor, too, now! And even though you certainly are a pack of idiots, it seems I'm one of you now and I won't be running away, either!"

[Scene Break]

Mobile Planetary Defense Center… Mobile Planetary Defense Center… MPDC… Alby typed in one information query after anothertrying to find something useful about the EnBees' huge war machine. He'd appropriated a vacant comconsole station and been at it for nearly an hour. He was finding out all sorts of information on MPDCs in general, but not a damn thing specific about the one here on Novo Paveo. Rad Benin was on an adjacent comconsole trying to get sensor data from the ships and drones that were keeping an eye on the thing. Anything he got, he fed to Alby to help him refine his search.

Of course, if the EnBees had built it from scratch in secret, he wasn't likely to find anything. It would be a unique item, not on any database outside EnBee control. Still, even the general information was useful. Not very encouraging, but still useful. Based on the size of the thing he could compare it to various real or (more frequently) hypothetical designs to get some idea of its capabilities.

There was no doubt it had a grav lance of the heaviest and longest-ranged type. That would have been a given even if it hadn't demonstrated it so lethally against that frigate. That was the whole point of the thing: to mount a weapon capable of blasting ships in close orbit around a planet. It would also mount massively heavy shielding. A big plasma mirror, of course, but also force screens able to deflect heavy non-plasma weapons. Heavy armor, too, to try and stop anything that got past the force screens.

And stuff might get past. Despite the powerful force screens, the MPDC had one problem that plagued every ground vehicle that tried to mount a force screen. Force screens naturally tried to be spherical in shape. For space ships this was no problem, but for things on the ground it might be. Secondary emitters could be used to bend the screen to the desired shape, like a door or window opening, or a whole building. For something that didn't move, like a building or a bunker, the emitters could be buried with the foundation and the force screen would neatly wrap the structure. Really secure places might even have the screen wrap the bottom of the structure, too.

But vehicles had a problem. The force screens wouldn't let anything through them, but that also meant that the screens wouldn't pass through other objects either. So where the screens met the ground you had a problem. If you kept a really solid screen in place, right down to the ground, then you were in effect mounting an enormous plow to the front of your vehicle. Every little rise in the ground would be pushed along like by a bulldozer. In no time your vehicle would grind to a halt with a huge pile of debris stacked in front of it.

So the force screens had to weaken and peter out at ground level. Things might be able to slip through there. Of course, this was no secret. The 61st had trained to take advantage of it when they were working with the heavy tanks back at Fort Vorolson. Tanks typically had their heaviest armor placed to cover those weak spots and often had banks of secondary weapons aimed to blast any foolhardy soldier who might try to slip under the screen.

And that was the information Alby was hoping to find about the EnBee MPDC: the secondary weapons. There was nothing anyone could do about the grav lance, but what other weapons did it carry? How thick was the armor? Were there any weak spots? He had to find something. Anything to help out his comrades.

"Alby."

He looked up and Rad was standing next to him.

"What? You got something?"

"No. But look." He pointed to one of the tactical displays. The big red icon.

"It's on the move."

[Scene Break]

Anny wrenched her hammer loose from the side of the light tank, jammed the muzzle of her plasma arc into the hole the hammer had made and fired. A flare of dazzling blue light appeared around the edges of the hole and then the vehicle's hatches all blew open with a gout of flame and smoke. The tank's anti-gravs failed and it slammed to the ground, narrowly missing Anny's feet. She jumped back and looked for new foes, scarcely noticing the EnBee tank driver, wrapped in flames, who managed to pull himself halfway out a hatch before collapsing.

Her platoon had knocked out three other tanks which had attempted to overrun their position. Several others were falling back with the remains of their supporting infantry. Anny pulled her men back to cover, dragging along five more of their own casualties. This had been a bad one and they'd paid heavily for their success.

"Status!" she croaked. She knew she didn't have to yell, but years of parade ground drill had made it instinctive. Her throat was getting raw.

"Dumont's had it, but I think his suit's freezing him."

"Astin's lost a leg…"

"Ellender's suit's dead, not sure if he's hurt…"

"Sarge! Sarge! Are you okay?"

That last reply snapped Anny's head around. Sergeant Kay was staggering into the ditch they were using as cover. One armored gauntlet was pressed against his breastplate. It couldn't quite cover the blackened hole beneath it. "Malcolm!" He slumped to his knees just as she reached him. To her horror, there was a second hole in the back of his armor. Whatever had hit him had blown completely through. Shit!

"Malcolm, can you hear me?" she asked as she called up his suit's medical read-out. The information came through immediately and it wasn't good. Massive damage to his torso area, lung gone, most of the liver… an urgent message was blinking:

BLOOD LOSS CRITICAL. EMERGENCY MEDICAL CARE REQUIRED. AUTOMATIC CRYO ACTIVATION IN 3:47

The timer was counting down. The suit would put Kay in cryo automatically if not overridden. Should she? Where was the medic?

"Berton!"

"Sir? Kinda busy right now," came the reply.

"Sergeant Kay's suit is going to put him in cryo. Should I let it?"

"Might as well. Evac times to the field hospital are running over thirty minutes now. Too damn many casualties."

"Should I do it now or let it count down?"

"If it's gonna happen, sooner's better."

"Right." Right…

"L-Lieutenant?" She blinked. It was Kay.

"Malcolm? You're gonna be okay."

"S-sorry to let you down."

"You didn't, you didn't," she said as she gave his suit the order to put him in cryo. "You did great, just great. Gonna put you to sleep now. You'll wake up in bed surrounded by pretty nurses."

"Thass… nissss…" He didn't say any more. The cryo drugs were already in him. Damn. He had been doing a great job. She needed a replacement. Sergeant Wood was next in line among the NCOs. But maybe…

"Ensign Milroy…"

"Lieutenant Payne! Answer!" Anny jumped. That wasn't Milroy.

"Payne here."

"Lieutenant! Captain Vorstang's down!" It was First Sergeant Nikolaidis.

"What? How bad?"

"Bad enough."

And Dahlberg's already been evacuated. Hell, hell, hell…

"Then I guess I've got the company, Sergeant." Again.

"Yes, sir, you do. What are your orders?"

"Orders. Sergeant? The same orders we've had all morning: Hold the line."

"Yes sir!"

"I'll move to your position shortly. Ensign Milroy!"

"Sir?"

"You've got the platoon."

"Yes, sir. Good luck, sir."

"And to you. Take care of them."

"Will do."

She left Kay where he was lying, trusting he'd be evacuated as soon as possible, and moved toward the center of the company. She pulled up the status display of what was now her command. Or what was left of it. That last attack had pushed them below half strength. Fifty percent losses. In ages past a unit that had taken ten percent casualties was considered to be spent. Twenty-five percent was perilously close to breaking.

But C Company wasn't going to break.

Assault troopers were trained to a different standard. They usually operated in smaller groups and the loss of a couple of men couldn't be allowed to stop them. And even though the whole regiment was here today, that training was still with them. They would keep fighting until they were told to quit. Keep fighting until… the last man?

Could it come to that?

Why not?

Yeah, why not?

She reached Nikolaidis and checked in with the other platoon leaders. Ensign Vorstuban had already taken over 1st Platoon from Dahlberg and Eric Vorgard still had 2nd. She was lucky to still have officers left. She suspected some of the other companies weren't so lucky. Jer was still alive, though. And Patric. But things still looked dicey over on the right. The EnBees were really concentrating there.

She reported to Major Vorglanov that she had C Company, but he just acknowledged and confirmed that she was to hold in place until given new orders. He sounded very busy. For the next twenty minutes or so she just oversaw what the company was doing, making minor adjustments here and there, but forcing herself to let the platoon leaders do their jobs. Delegate, delegate! Fortunately, the EnBees on her front seemed to be licking their wounds from their last attack. Sporadic artillery was still falling, but things were as quiet as they'd been since the fighting started. She was actually able to sit down for a minute and suck some of the liquid rations from the tube in her helmet. She peered out toward the enemy positions. Maybe they're as tired as we are…

"Attention the line!" Anny jerked to full alert. It was Fetherbay, on the officers' circuit. "The big enemy war machine is moving forward. We still don't know what it can do to ground targets, but we aren't going to take any chances. New fall-back positions are being transferred to you now. Major Waski! Get your men off that damn hill! It's heading your way!"

Anny looked at her tactical display and saw that the big red icon, which had remained stationary all day, was now out of the volcano and heading toward the regiment's right flank. 2nd Battalion was holding there with a big hill, designated 219, as its anchor. A swarm of blue icons were on and around it. Slowly, much too slowly they started to pull back…

Anny flinched as a hornet seemed to fly right through her brain.

That was the only way she could describe it. A buzzing, crawling, burning… itch in her head. The tactical display was going crazy and the world seemed to be stretching around her like a piece of soft taffy. Overhead something passed by and for a moment the sky darkened to purple and she could see stars flickering, and then it was gone. Moving on, toward the right…

Toward Hill 219.

She activated her telescopic video feed just in time to see the upper fifty meters of the hill sheared away. Not blown up, just… annihilated. Gone.

"Jer!"