House of Reeds

'Kyo? What's going on? What's the situation?'

The shuttle engines throttled back, and the office – a dingy room with walls covered with tacked-up posters and damp manifests – swelled with the chatter of conversation, the chiming of comms and the ozone-stink of comp equipment running hot in dreadful humidity. Kosho peered out the window, wondering where Helsdon and his scavengers had gotten to. The captain's voice on her comm had the particularly sharp quality she associated with their ship plunging into combat.

We're dropping orbit, the Chu-sa's voice continued, each word crisp, to reduce your lift time back to the ship and to provide fire-support for the regiment. Hayes will handle outbound traffic control through the bombardment path. Make sure you -

'Chu-sa?' Kosho tapped her earbug in irritation. Some kind of interference had flooded the channel. There was a warbling squeal for a moment, and then Hadeishi's voice popped back, perfectly clear.

– can you hear me?

'Hai, kyo. The channel went out for a moment.' Susan palmed her comp out and thumbed up the local locator grid, hoping everyone was in range. 'Should I evac just ship's crew, or everyone at Sobipurй?'

Just our crew, Hadeishi said, after a brief pause. We need the shuttles back in orbit so we can provide medevac for the 416th. I've learned the -

The comm dropped out again, just for a fraction of a second, but Kosho caught the missing beat in her captain's voice rhythm. Puzzled, she cleared away the locator grid and thumbed up a diagnostic on her shipsuit comm.

– natives are preparing to rise against the Imperial presence. So I want all of you safe in orbit as quickly as possible.

'Understood…' Susan stared at her comp, where the diagnostic display was showing an unaccountable lag in the transmit/receive time between her and the ship. The Sho-sa turned to the corporal who had been trying to help her round up sixty tons of raw protein for the shipboard recyclers. 'O'Reilly- tzin, can you bring up the orbital traffic control plot on your comp?'

'Of course, ma'am.' The quartermaster's aide pushed a pair of antique spectacles back on his nose and pudgy fingers danced across his comp display. 'Here…'

Susan craned her neck to check the position plot on the display, found it matched the one on her handheld, and her nostrils flared in puzzlement. The ship has not moved a million kilometers away from me in the last minute and a half. What could be throwing this kind of delay in the comm channel? Is the network relay failing?

'Captain,' she said slowly, paging through the rest of the diagnostics provided by her comp. An obscure screen holding network routing information caught her eye. 'I've an entire squad down here, as well as Helsdon and his technicians. Should we reinforce the landing field perimeter? What do you want me to do if the comm net goes dark?'

If you lose comm, Hadeishi said, then collect everyone groundside. Third squad is on leave in Parus. We don't want to leave them hanging – not like at Forochel. I trust your judgment.

Susan nodded and squared her shoulders. The Forochel exercise posited a failure of inter-unit comm due to a precedence dispute among Fleet commanders of equal rank. All subordinate commanders were expected to maintain their heading and unit cohesion while a unity of authority was re-established. The Sho- sa felt herself become very calm. 'Understood. Kosho, out.'

Then she jammed her thumb down on the all-units channel. 'Kosho to all Cornuelle personnel groundside, we've been recalled to the ship with all haste. Return to the shuttle immediately and prepare for lift. Repeat, return to the shuttle immediately.'

A babble of voices filled her comm as the Marines and technicians checked in. Only Helsdon was more than ten minutes from their shuttle. Kosho frowned, realizing the master machinist's mate must be overseeing loading of the replacement power supplies Isoroku had bartered for. She tapped up Felix, who was standing by at the shuttle itself.

'Heicho, go get Helsdon and his techs – they're at the Imperial Development Board warehouse – if they've got everything on the lifter, bring it with you, but if not, leave the supplies in place and get those technicians back to the shuttle in one piece.'

Hai, kyo ! The corporal signed off. In the ensuing pause, Susan realized the quartermaster's office had fallen silent. She turned, one eyebrow raised, and found all of the clerks staring at her with wide eyes.

'Yes?' The Sho-sa groaned inwardly. All of the personnel in the room were Fleet – but not crewmen from the Cornuelle. Sobipurй was a Fleet installation, but not attached to a specific ship, being staffed by crew seconded from battle group 88's general staff pool. 'Where is your commanding officer?'

'In Parus,' O'Reilly squeaked, pale round face sheened with sweat, 'arguing with the staff liaison of the 416th about acquiring more surface transport for resupplying the squads operating in the field… Are we going to be attacked?'

'I have no idea,' Kosho said bluntly, counting heads. 'Who is responsible for perimeter security for the landing field? Do you have an evacuation shuttle assigned? Someplace secure to go?'

O'Reilly swallowed, one finger picking nervously at his collar. 'D-Company was handling fence patrols and keeping the slicks from picking through the rubbish tip, but they were reassigned to secure the highway and rail-line north to Parus.'

Susan stared coolly at the corporal. 'And now?'

'Now…the kujen of Fehrupurй sent a brigade of lancers. They're encamped over at the east end of landing strip two…near the customs shed. I heard they were only temporary, until a company from 2nd brigade arrived to take over, but they won't be here until next week…'

Kosho nodded, hiding her horror at the prospect of the entire Fleet landing field having no security at all if the wrong princeling had secured the assignment.

'And your shuttle?'

'Hangar two,' O'Reilly replied, his voice rather faint.

She started to tap open a comm channel to Felix, then paused, staring intently at the comp in her hand. Something is delaying our comm, she thought, reading through the routing details. This looks like the entire military net is being relayed through a location far out in space. She keyed a series of commands into her suit comm, then squirted a reset code to every Fleet comm within range.

Sixteen devices in the quartermaster's office beeped simultaneously, startling the already edgy clerks, and then reset.

'We're in local point-to-point mode,' Kosho announced briskly, 'in case the nearest relay is damaged by enemy action. You men, pack up this office, pull your comps, flashbox any hardcopy and get to your shuttle as fast as possible. O'Reilly-tzin, you're in charge. Our shuttle is in hangar number six. Comm me when you're ready to lift – we'll go in sequence and relocate to the ship.'

'Yes, ma'am!' the corporal said, weak-kneed with relief he wouldn't be abandoned.

Susan spun on her heel and banged out the door, taking the steps down to the searingly hot concrete two at a time. She started running towards the looming row of hangars, her armor activated, safety off of her pistol, a locator grid now showing in eye-view on her combat visor. Her temperature regulators immediately began complaining.

'Felix.' Kosho cleared a channel to the Heicho. 'Forget the repair supplies – we've no cover out here; an unknown force is handling fence security – just grab Helsdon and get back to the shuttle. Do not assume any native troops you encounter are friendly.'

The Sho-sa heard Felix acknowledge, then swerved to use a warehouse for cover as she approached a road cutting across the base. She could hear a distant rumbling to the north. Clouds were busy gathering for the afternoon thunderstorms, but had not yet built up enough to deluge the landing field with a torrent