Virtues of War (50 page)

They climbed down off the road and made their way carefully through a field of half-grown grain. Above and to her left, she heard the tanks rev up and move forward. Her platoon advanced several hundred meters in silence, the distant light from Centauria B revealing more features of the village ahead. The houses were very large, with mostly glass sides, probably designed to show off the superb view from this high point over the city.

She activated her infrared, but couldn’t see any warm bodies. Yet.

The tanks opened fire without warning. Heavy rounds smashed clear through the first row of houses and exploded in the second. Glass and plastics showered through the street. Lahko’s platoon fired blindly with their rifles as they charged forward, tiny explosions riddling the smashed buildings ahead of them.

Katja gave her troops a hand signal, and broke into a run. Staying low and in the fields, she passed the first line of destruction and began surveying the houses deeper in the village. Her first scans on infrared and quantum-flux revealed nothing. She advanced further, rising up out of the field and between the buildings straddling the village’s crossroad. Moving cautiously up the side of a low brick building, she tried to listen for enemy movement over the racket of Second Platoon’s advance.

Suddenly there was the sound of rockets launching, causing her to duck instinctively. Peeking out into the street, she just saw a pair of APRs exploding backward as the tanks opened fire. She stayed low and surveyed the surrounding buildings. If there were defenders, her target had to be near.

The awful sound of artillery whistled in. She saw explosions in the main street where the Second Platoon was advancing. She ran across the side road and tucked behind another low building—a boutique shop. A flash of silver between the houses forced her to duck and freeze. More APRs were advancing into battle, rockets firing en masse at the Terran attackers.

Katja stayed behind the houses, running through well-groomed back yards as she scanned in infrared and quantum-flux. She paused to check her forearm display, then continued forward. Bullets whistled past her head. She swung her rifle up and unleashed a fully automatic sweep, then dove to the ground and leopard-crawled forward, listening as her troopers returned fire. A quick glance revealed Centauri soldiers—actual human soldiers—running up the hill.

“Targets north! Hostile infantry!”

She reached the end of the houses, finding no sign of the artillery spotters. Amidst the peppering fire of the Centauri rifles, some sort of heavier weapon fired from below, tearing up dirt at her feet.

“Hold this ground,” she barked. “Hold this ground!”

Her troopers hunkered down as best they could and returned fire. She ran between the houses and crouched down in the shadows.

The main street was littered with debris as the Centauris and Terrans exchanged heavy fire. She looked down toward the crossroads and saw one of the hover tanks on its side in the middle of the street, smoke billowing from its battered form. The other couldn’t be seen.

Some APRs were still up and fighting, advancing slowly on Lahko’s troops. Her instinct was to burst out into the street and join the fight, draw some fire to help Second Platoon. But she knew enough about Centauris to guess that they still had more tricks up their sleeves. She couldn’t reveal her position until she’d found the artillery spotter.

But that didn’t mean that she couldn’t help.

She locked onto the slow-moving APR line and sent quick commands through her forearm display to
Jutland
. It was time to bring in the big guns. She confirmed that Lahko’s troops were clear of the blast zone, and sent the order.

Seconds later, orange bolts screamed down from heaven. The first obliterated one of the bigger shops at the crossroad. The second smashed into the APRs. Molten metal sprayed across a street-wide crater.

Katja stared in shock for a moment, remembering the orbital bombardment
Kristiansand
had provided in Free Lhasa. It hadn’t seemed like that much destruction. She quickly checked her safety ranges to see if battleship batteries had a different radius than a mere destroyer’s. But her display offered no info.

Artillery rained down on Second Platoon again, wrenching Katja’s mind back to her task. The spotters were still active, and were protecting their own position now. She needed to take them out. There was so much heat in the street that infrared wasn’t effective, so she tried quantum-flux against the line of houses across from her.

Nothing.

In fact, from one house in particular there was
absolutely
nothing. No reading at all. She gasped slightly. Quantum jamming, just like at Thapa’s farm. It was the second house from the end, almost directly across the street from her.

She activated her telescopic night-vision and scanned the windows. Sure enough, she caught a glimmer of movement. She punched in the coordinates of the house and sent the order to
Jutland
, even as another salvo of Centauri artillery smashed down on the crossroad.

She watched the quantum-shielded house, feeling awfully exposed even though her display showed her safely outside the blast zone. Just as she spotted the incoming orange flashes from the sky, she wondered if the safety range was affected by the angle of fire.

A blinding flash overwhelmed her vision. She instinctively threw up her arms as a sledgehammer of solid air hit her like a concrete wall. She was dimly aware of floating, and of crashing down onto the ground.

The blinding lights didn’t fade, and as she took stock of the warning signals her body was screaming at her she struggled to keep her eyes open. She heard voices, and before she could pull herself up she felt a hand on her arm.

“Easy, Lieutenant.”

“Status!” she barked.

“You’re fine—just take it easy.”

She forced her eyes open, despite the white haze, and dimly focused on the trooper looming before her. She didn’t recognize him—perhaps he was one of the medics. He looked back with earnest brown eyes, and it took a moment for Katja to realize, over the continuous thunder of the battle, that she shouldn’t be able to see his eyes at all.

“Goddammit, trooper! Put your fucking helmet on!”

His expression didn’t flinch, but there was a real edge of fear in his voice.

“Lieutenant, listen to me,” he said. “The battle’s over. You’re safe.”

She struggled to rise, but every muscle protested. “No one’s safe! Get your head in the game.”

He pressed her firmly back down. She struggled against him, trying to look at her forearm display. It was blank.

Things weren’t good.

“Help me up, trooper,” she insisted. “We have to get tactical comms!” He kept looking at her, but addressed someone else. “I’ve got a battle-head here! Sedation, now.”

The lights were still blinding, but Katja sensed sudden, rapid movement to her left. It was a trap. She slammed her forearm into the man above her, feeling his lungs collapse with the force of her blow. She pushed herself up, but dizziness overcame her and she lost her footing. Two large Centauri soldiers charged down on her. She swung her fists randomly, but hit nothing but air. Suddenly she was pinned, the combined weight of the Centauris bleeding away her strength.

A sharp pain cut into her thigh.

Moments later she felt reality slip away.

* * *

When she woke, it was nighttime and she was alone. She lay motionless for a long moment, listening. Shuffling movement indicated people nearby, or possibly the wind through some prefab. She forced herself to relax, breathe deeply, and assess her wounds.

Nothing burned, and she wiggled her fingers and toes to confirm that she was still in one piece. Looking side to side, she saw nothing but shadows and blurry lights.

She tried to pull herself up, but her arms wouldn’t respond. She tried again, and realized that her wrists were restrained by some kind of gel ring. Just as she began to try and squeeze her hands through the orange, donut-sized rings, the curtain around her—that’s what it was, she suddenly realized—swished aside to admit a woman in medical fatigues.

“Lieutenant Emmes,” she said with a slightly apprehensive smile, “how are you feeling?”

“Fine,” Katja responded. “Caged.”

The medic quickly examined a status board at the foot of her bed—she was on a bed—and nodded. “I’m Master Rating Shin. You’re aboard the invasion ship
Normandy
, and it’s four days since the battle on Abeona.” She looked at Katja strangely. “Do you believe me?”

The question puzzled Katja. “Yes. Why?”

“The last time you were awake, you thought you were still in the battle, and you took a good swipe at one of the other medics.”

“Oh.”

Shin shrugged. “It happens—common side effect of your combat cocktail. Makes you a good fighter when things go bad, but makes it difficult for you to adjust your reality.”

“Is he okay?”

“Wind knocked out of him—he’s fine now.” Shin touched one of the restraining rings. “Your chemistry is back to normal, so I’m going to trust you enough to take these off. But be aware that
Normandy
doesn’t trust you right now, and if you make any sudden moves, you’ll be subdued. Nothing personal—it’s standard procedure for troopers after battle.”

Katja nodded slightly. “I understand.” She’d heard of troopers going crazy days after returning from the surface as the combat cocktail worked its way through their system.

Shin removed the rings with practiced ease and stepped back, never taking her eyes off Katja.

“Can I get you anything, Lieutenant?”

“A report from the battle. I was commanding the Saracens’ Fifth Platoon.”

Shin laughed.

“Is there a problem, Master Rating?”

She shook her head. “Troopers usually ask for food. Officers ask for reports. You guys crack me up every time.”

Normally that kind of insubordination would infuriate her, but she just couldn’t muster the energy. In fact, she could feel the tension draining away as she truly began to understand where she was. She was safe. She was a veteran of Terra’s invasion of Centauria’s homeworld. She’d fucking done it and she was still alive.

She had nothing left to prove.

“Indulge me,” Katja said. “If any of my troopers are still alive, please ask the most senior one to report to me. And send word to Commander Vici that I’m awake.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Shin turned to go. A sudden impulse caused Katja to call after her.

“And Master Rating, please tell Lieutenant Commander Kane of
Rapier
that I’m alive, and would appreciate a visit.”

B
reeze had plucked her first gray hair that morning. Hardly surprising, considering she’d barely slept for days, and had spent most of that time fearing for her life. But it only worsened her mood as she pushed her way along the wide passageway.

She was getting very used to this particular route—from the Intelligence cell to the commodore’s cabin—but lately she didn’t get the feeling that her hard work was paying off. It was tough to cast herself as the command staff’s up-and-coming junior officer when that role was already filled.

Ever since her disastrous attempt to have Thomas talk Chandler out of going into battle, it seemed as if young Mr. Kane could do no wrong in the eyes of his mentor. She still lost sleep over how badly she’d misread that situation.

Nevertheless, she reminded herself as she buzzed at Chandler’s door, the past was the past. All she could do now was watch for a new opportunity. But as she saw Chandler’s expression, eyes fixed on a slow-motion recording, she knew today wouldn’t be the day.

The commodore was still brooding.

“Good morning, sir,” she said with a tempered mix of gravity and cheer. “I have the latest intelligence report on the Centauri reaction to the battle.”

He glanced at her briefly before turning his eyes back to the 3-D display. He motioned her closer. She studied it, but couldn’t make out which point in the combat over Abeona he was studying. The sphere was a mess of red and blue symbols, yet it seemed to mean something to him.

“Shall I just leave it, sir?” she said after what seemed an eternity.

His eyes narrowed, and at that moment one of the blue symbols flashed and disappeared. He froze the recording and looked over at her.

“Give me your summary, Breeze.”

For a moment she thought he meant a summary of the readout, then noticed he was looking at her report.

“Terror and panic on every world, sir,” she replied. “Local militias are scrambling to build and man surface defenses. Protest groups are marching in the streets. Pundits are questioning the wisdom of sending so many of Centauria’s ships out-system, and leaving the planets so exposed. The government is stating again that the attack was repelled, and that the situation is under control, but parliament is a zoo. I expect either the government to fall, or martial law to be declared, probably within the next seventy-two hours. In short, sir, mission accomplished.”

Breeze knew better than to smile, but she saw the effect of her words on Chandler. Perhaps there was an opportunity here after all.

His frown morphed into a more thoughtful expression as he nodded. He looked quickly at her report before casting it aside and returning his attention to the frozen recording.

“Thanks, Breeze. It’s good to hear that maybe all this was worth it, after all.”

The two days of warfare over Abeona had exhausted everyone. When she managed to sleep now, Breeze had nightmares of those first terrifying hours when
Normandy
had been under constant attack. Once the orbital platforms had been destroyed and the EF focused its full power against the surface batteries, the pressure had eased, but Abeona had seemed to have an unlimited supply of missiles and robotic sentries to hurl at them in waves.

Throughout the battle, Chandler had ably filled the role of the confident commander, speaking only when required and wasting no words. Even when losses began to climb, he’d maintained his stern, calm façade.

Then, in the forty-second hour of the invasion, with all three regiments embroiled in vicious battles among the new ruins of Abeona’s three largest cities, the Centauris had mounted one final, devastating counteroffensive. The attack had destroyed three ships, including the invasion ship
Quebec
.