29

Kris was glad to see Jack's rig being waved in by her scout troop. They motored up and down the breaks that were the prelude to the hills ahead. At the bottom of many of the low, rolling hills were small streams, fed by the distant mountains. The sun had been up for only an hour, but it was already hot.

Jack reported with a salute and a smile. ''Good to see you again, Princess. You've got quite a following,'' the Marine captain said, taking in the lines of trucks behind her.

Kris returned the salute. ''Where are your troops?''

Jack glanced over his shoulder at only three trucks. ''I didn't see much use in bringing them back and forth. They're out ahead of you, digging holes in the croplands. It's not going to be a lot of fun walking in their footsteps.''

Kris gave over to her captain any doubts she still had. He might be a short-timer in the Corps, but he'd been a long time looking after her hide.

''Oh, I passed that zoo you sent forward. Lot of unhappy campers. And not just the pigs and goats,'' he chuckled.

Kris shook her head. ''They're all just looking for a fight. And not a second's thought for the butcher bill.''

''The butcher's bill is never in the vids,'' Jack said.

''And if these young fools don't pay it a bit of mind, they're going to run when the first penny comes due,'' Kris said. Just once she'd like to lead a real command with trained troops.

No, she had done that finally, and they'd all been just as eager for the first shot. But none had run at the first casualty. Marines wouldn't think of doing that. The locals she had strung out behind her might be another matter entirely.

''The Wasp's about due over the horizon. Let's see what Drago has to show us,'' Kris said, changing the topic.

Captain Drago greeted them cheerfully, as someone might who'd slept in his own bed and eaten in his own wardroom. Kris tried not to grumble; her quarters for the night had been a hayloft in a barn. Her breakfast, a canteen of water and a half loaf of the hard bread they made from the roughly ground grain of the perennial grass they were driving over.

There was a reason she had joined the Navy.

It took Chief Beni a moment to organize his sensor feeds into a coherent picture and download it to Kris. ''Colonel Cortez appears to have spent the night at the end of that causeway and is just now moving north.''

Jack ran his fingers over the orbital image. ''He's deploying his light infantry for flankers and a van. His heavy infantry is holding his center with these carts. Looks like he's using his hostages for mules. And has them in front.''

''You booby-trapping the road?'' Kris asked.

''Nope, but plenty of holes around it. Should be rough on the van and the flankers.'' An update of the image came through. The picture Nelly projected on the back wall of the truck they rode in wavered and settled down.

''Oh, look at that,'' Jack chortled, pointing at the far right of the van troops. ''Looks like someone's down and drawing a crowd. I think we just broke a leg.''

They paused, waiting for the next refresh. It showed the same small clump … and a pull cart being rushed down the road to them. The rest of the formations were holding in place.

''Doesn't look like Colonel Cortez is racing north,'' Jack said, with a grin. ''We may be slowed digging those holes, but he'll be stopped every time one of his boys fills one.''

Kris nodded, satisfied that a certain colonel was having a very bad day, then moved her attention farther north.

It was easy to spot the dugouts. Jack's teams were also easily found, even though they were spread off the road and across a greater depth than Kris had expected.

''I've got them in three lines. One's digging holes. The second is farther down the road selecting where to dig more holes. The third is finishing up on their holes, and getting ready to fall back to another line. With lasers overhead every ninety minutes or so, I can't make anyone too good a target.''

''You using local homesteads when Thorpe's overhead?''

''Just spreading out. After that first shoot, Thorpe and Cortez know we're here. Your volunteers are the unknown.''

Kris nodded. Jack looked like he wanted to say something, but it wasn't coming out. ''You got a problem, Captain?''

Jack gnawed at his lower lip for a second, then glanced at the scores of trucks moving along in rough lines. ''You got quite a following here.'' Kris nodded. ''What have you paid for it?''

''Paid?''

''Hell has no fury like a noncombatant. I remember hearing that someplace. These kids are carrying rifles, but none ever fired a shot at another human being.'' Kris wasn't at all sure where this was going and was rapidly getting tired of waiting.

''Some of my locals are gleefully talking about the coming massacre. They want no surrenders. No quarter given.''

Gunny had reported similar talk among some of his locals. Kris hadn't heard it. At least not from the clan elders she'd talked to while raising her volunteers. ''You've explained to them that's not the way we fight? Slaughtering prisoners is not only stupid, it's against the laws of war.''

''Yeah, but I'm not sure anyone is listening. They don't want to go through this again. They figure wiping out this bunch will send a message. Don't mess with us.''

Kris shook her head. ''Don't they know most of these troops are rented? We set the home folks rioting, screaming about the ‘savages' out on the Rim, and what started as a cheap little excursion by some get-rich-quick entrepreneurs will turn into a bloody vendetta to retrieve a planet's lost honor.''

''I know that, and you know that, Kris, but how do we make them know that? I'm assuming you're trying to maneuver this into a well-managed surrender, with the less blood the better.''

''I admit the thought is rather attractive,'' Kris said, glancing over her shoulder. Her truck's load was half Marines, half locals. The Marines looked grim. The locals' faces ranged from puzzled to downright unhappy. So, she would have a problem on her hands even before she got to fighting a battle.

One thing at a time.

''I've ordered the zoo to take cover every time Thorpe is overhead. I figure they'll be to the dugouts about noon. One of the locals mentioned that they've got a spider kind of thing that really raises a welt on a man when it bites him. It can lead to fever and all kinds of bad stuff. We've been collecting them to send along with the zoo.''

''Oh my,'' Jack said, through a smile.

''We won't actually rig explosives, though a settlement we stopped at last night makes fireworks for local use.''

''Fireworks!''

''Yep, firecrackers, rockets, those sorts of things. Battlefields are usually known for being noisy. What do you think the odds are that if we make a field noisy, someone might turn it into a battlefield.''

''Don't you just hate blue-on-blue casualties,'' Jack said, growing a grin. ''Thorpe is really going to regret the day he didn't load his ground pounders back aboard ship and run for a jump point when you wandered into this system.''

''What do you think the chances are that he will do just that?'' Kris asked.

Jack took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. ''That's not something I'd give you a bet on. Not at any odds.''

''Yeah, that's what I kind of figured.''

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