lled with hot coffee and a “secret ingredient” that was immediately recognizable as rum. Most of the offi?cers carried fi?re-blackened cups that were critical to a quick “brew-up,” and hurried to produce them, as the muchabused aluminum bottles made the rounds. The rest were supplied with mugs, some of which were of Ramanthian manufacture, but still serviceable.
Santana took a tentative sip, and having found the concoction to his liking, took another. A sensation of warmth fl?ooded his belly and seemed to spread out from there. The company, minus a number of casualties, was waiting about a mile away. Zolkin had orders to get a hot meal into the bio bods, and carry out cold-weather maintenance on the cyborgs, while Dietrich went out to scrounge whatever supplies he could. Alpha Company had burned through lots of everything during the past few days and was going to need a lot of ammo, food, and medical supplies if they were going to make it back over the pass. Which, based on the cavalry offi?cer’s limited knowledge of the situation, was what everyone would have to do. Some fl?y-forms were still in service, but they were being used to air evac the wounded, and even that was iffy.
“All right,” General Kobbi began, as he stepped up onto a platform that consisted of two side-by-side cargo modules.
“I know you want to rejoin your outfi?ts, so I’ll keep this meeting brief. First, in case there’s someone who hasn’t heard, General-453 is missing in action, and presumed dead. And yes, the man who led the advance on Yal- Am was a person other than Four-fi?fty-three.”
That announcement produced a good deal of buzz—
since it served to confi?rm some of the rumors that had been fl?oating around. Santana felt the fi?rst stirrings of concern when he saw that Kobbi was looking directly at him. The general wouldn’t send him after Colonel Six right in the middle of a full-scale retreat. Would he?
The question went unanswered as the briefi?ng continued.
“So as the most senior offi?cer still on his feet, I assumed command,” Kobbi said grimly. “Unless there’s another offi?cer who wants the job—because they sure as hell can have it!”
That generated a chorus of chuckles from the offi?cers who, better than anyone else, knew how diffi?cult the retreat was going to be.
“Most of you know that we were suckered,” Kobbi said matter-of-factly. “And not once—but twice! Because even as the chits boiled up out of the ground in Yal-Am, a Ramanthian battle group dropped out of hyperspace, and tore into our ships. The swabbies bloodied the Ramanthian beaks pretty good, but took a lot of casualties, and were forced out of the system. That left the chits holding the high ground, which means our line of retreat has been severed, and we’re momentarily cut off. Worse yet, I’m told that thousands of Ramanthians have fi?ltered in behind us, which means they’re planning to infl?ict a lot of casualties as we withdraw.”
The report produced a symphony of groans, followed by a more upbeat assessment from a Hudathan major. “Good!”
the legionnaire rumbled. “Now we’ve got ’em where we want ’em!” Santana laughed along with the others, but knew the reality of it wouldn’t be funny, as thousands of soldiers and civilians started the long cold trek up over Tow-Tok Pass.
Kobbi marveled at the fact that the men and women in front of him could still laugh and waited for the noise to die down before picking up where he had left off. “But, thanks to some bug technology, we have real-time communications with General Booly, and he’s working on a plan to pull us out. I can’t go into the details yet, lest one of us be captured, but I want you to know there’s hope. And I want you to communicate that to your troops. But before we can take advantage of the general’s plan, we need to get our people over the mountains. So focus your efforts on that. Be sure to get your marching orders from Lieutenant Giles as you leave. And obey them. Because if we’re going to retreat—then it’s going to be the best damned retreat that anyone ever saw! Do you read me?”
The answer was a ragged, “Yes, sir!”
“Good,” Kobbi said. “Now, one more thing before you go out to play in the snow. . . . As many of you have heard, there has been a change of government on Alpha-001. Simply put the Alpha Clones are out—and something called the Clone Republic is in. The new government is going to be a democracy, or so I’m told, and the existing alliance remains in effect. Which, all things considered, is all we need to know!
“All right,” the general fi?nished. “Get your orders—and get in gear. I’ll be checking in with each one of you during the coming days. Captain Santana—a moment of your time please.”
Quinlan frowned. Kobbi’s habit of using Alpha Company to run errands for him was starting to grate. Especially now that more than a third of his battalion was either dead or wounded. But there wasn’t much Quinlan could do about it except shoot Santana an annoyed look before following the others toward the door.
Santana drank the last of his coffee and rum before fold- ing the handle into the center of the mug and tucking the implement away. Kobbi had stepped off the cargo modules by then, and had just completed a conversation with a major, when Santana made his way forward. Kobbi nodded as they came face-to- face. “So, have you ever seen a bigger screwup than this one?” he inquired lightly.
“No, sir,” Santana replied honestly, as his breath fogged the air. “I can’t say that I have.”
“Nor have I,” Kobbi said grimly. “Not even on Savas. But, as we haul our miserable asses back into space, I’d feel a whole lot better if we took Colonel Six along with us. Or, failing that, if we buried the treacherous piece of shit right here. Am I clear?”
The cavalry offi?cer found himself staring into a pair of very dark eyes. They looked like gun barrels. “Yes, sir. You are.”
“Good,” Kobbi said. “Six and his Seebos are long gone. I want you to pull out before the others, head up the road, and catch the bastard. He has a lot to account for, including dead marines, dead civilians, and a couple of hostages. Not to mention his impersonation of General-453. Although I must admit that I liked his version of the general a lot better than the real thing! If it hadn’t been for the reserves Akoto had tucked away, we would have kicked their pointy asses.
“Anyway, see what you can do, but don’t stray too far. . . . Because when I call for the evac to begin, time will be short—and there won’t be any second chances. See Giles on your way out. He’ll give you some written orders and a high-priority pass signed by me. Show it to any sonofabitch stupid enough to try and get in your way.”
Santana knew that the fi?rst troops to go back up the road were likely to run into some of the stiffest resistance, but there wasn’t anything he could do other than nod, and say,
