Chapter 6

I might not havea battle axe, but I knew how to take down a lone guard. We timed the lone patrol and came up behind him. When he turned, I stepped into the open, placed the muzzle of my rocket launcher up against his faceplate, then put up my finger to indicate absolute silence.

Grant took his weapon. Then he held up his wrist to display our intercom frequency. The guard keyed it in carefully.

“How many guards?”

“Two, counting me,” a soft female voice answered.

“Is your long-range radio working?”

She shrugged enough to see despite her suit. “There are no satellites overhead to connect to, so I think that it does not matter so much.”

“How many spacecraft survived the dome collapse?”

She held up one gloved finger.

That brought home the devastation even more than the wreckage we’d been walking through for most of an Earth day. Back in early Royal Delta Marine days, I’d once flirted my way into the Russian spaceport hangar. Hundreds of warships—probably more than all the rest of the remaining national Space Forces combined—and thousands of personnel.

One ship.

But that was all we needed to get home. If it was a solo scout or fighter, I’d sit in Grant’s lap to get back.

Except we were both grunts.

“What’s your name? Are you a pilot?”

“Vanya.” And the doubtful rocking of her hand about being a pilot was better than either of us could claim—good enough for me.

I still hadn’t removed my weapon from her faceplate; I didn’t want her getting overconfident.

“Shit! We got a live one,” Grant had been watching for the other guard. But he’d been trying to watch all three-sixty while I parlayed with Vanya.

The newcomer was advancing with his sidearm drawn.

An actual pistol.

I hadn’t ever seen one of those outside of the Farside Fusiliers War Museum. They fired bullets that often didn’t kill you decently. Instead, they punched incredibly painful holes that might or might not eventually kill you.

Very primitive, very nasty.

He was coming up from directly behind Vanya.

Even though I was momentarily shielded by Vanya’s body, Grant was in his sights, and I didn’t dare risk a move that would get him shot.

Out of sight to Grant or her approaching companion, Vanya reached up slowly, and took a hold of my rifle.

Shit! Grant was right. That word was all that was really necessary to cover how wrong it was suddenly going. We’d survived a whole damn day, a sniper attack, the rocket attack from the top of the tower, and…

Somehow my guard had slipped. And if I didn’t get us both killed, I’d be court-martialed for being stupid.

Vanya clasped my rifle firmly, turned slowly, and shot her companion in the chest.