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further down the river.

“We should go,” said a young man to his wife. “They’ll be able to look after Sarah. If we stay out here any longer, she’ll die of starvation.”

The man’s wife looked down at her sleeping child wrapped in several dirt-encrusted blankets and sadly nodded.

“If you go, they’ll take you off world,” cautioned Sheridan.

“We know,” answered the woman. “We’ve all heard the rumors, but what would you have me do? The military won’t allow us into the city. They say there are too many people there already. My child is going to die out here. I’m willing to take my chances with the Kurgans if it means that Sarah will live.”

“She’ll be raised as a Kurgan.”

“At least she’ll live,” responded the woman.

There was to be no more discussion. The couple stood and slowly shuffled off into the dark.

“That’s been happening nightly,” explained the old man. “First, they took all the children between twelve and sixteen years of age. Then they dragged away any man who wasn’t married and was deemed capable of fighting.”

“None of them has ever returned,” added a black woman.

Sheridan thought about telling them about the men they stumbled across in the ditch but decided to keep his mouth shut. Anything he could tell them would only make things worse.

The old man continued. “Now they’re targeting the parents with young children. I figure before too long it’s just going to be us old folks waiting out here to die of starvation or the cold.”

“Why would they take teenagers?” asked Sheridan.

“It’s easier to mold a teen’s mind into that of a fanatic than an adult who has already formed strong opinions about what is right and wrong,” explained the black woman.

“Eve used to teach at the university,” said the old man proudly.

Sheridan swore. “What about the kids’ parents, did they go with them?”

Eve shook her head. “Most were killed trying to stop the Chosen from dragging away their children. The others haven’t been seen in days.”

Sheridan thought of Kelly Green. After hearing what the people had told him there was no way he could leave her out here to die. He resolved that she was coming with them, no matter what. “How often do the Chosen patrol through the camps?”

“They come and go as they please,” explained the old man. “They were a lot in the first few days, rounding up people. They haven’t bothered us in . . .”

“Two days,” said Eve, finishing the sentence.

“Well, that’s some good news at least,” Sheridan said.

“Ever since they started shelling the city, the Kurgans’ focus has switched from us onto the people trapped in the capital. It’s mainly drones peddling their propaganda now.”

A tired-looking man leaned forward and looked over at Sheridan. “You’re a soldier, why would they tell us to come here to evacuate the planet, only to bar the gates and leave us out here with the Kurgans?”

Sheridan shook his head. “Ten to one, the message was fake. The Kurgans wanted you all in one area so they could pick and choose those people they wanted to take. They must have sent the message. After jamming all communications coming and going out of the capital, it would have been easy to have one of the Chosen send out a message ordering all of you here.”

“I knew it,” said Eve. “The military would never deliberately abandon us.”

Sheridan had heard enough. He thanked everyone, took a quick look up into the night sky for a drone. When he didn’t see one, he stood. “Please forget that you ever saw me and good luck to all of you. I wish I could stay and help you, but I’ve got to get into the capital and let them know what is going on out here.”

“Soldier boy, you can help us by staying alive,” replied the old man, shaking Sheridan’s hand.

Sheridan gave the man back his blanket, turned around and then jogged back to the woods. He quickly briefed Agnar on what he had learned. Sheridan then carefully led them back the way they came. Sheridan had to get the information he had into the hands of his superiors. How he was going to do it, he had no idea. He only knew he had to find a way.

Chapter 13

Tarina Pheto walked into hangar nine at precisely five minutes to nine. She spotted a group of young officers standing about enthusiastically chatting to one another. As she approached, the air seemed charged. Excitement was etched on the faces of the pilots. Tarina noted that the group was a mix of people; some were captains, the majority, however, were lieutenants. No one looked more than twenty-five years old. 

“Hey, Tarina, over here,” called out a redheaded woman. 

Tarina smiled. Walking over, she warmly greeted Wendy Sullivan, a girl who had been at the academy with her. At least she wasn’t alone.

“So they drafted you too,” said Wendy.

“I washed out of fighter school, you?”

“I was asked to leave navigator school. I kept getting into arguments with the other students and the instructors over their calculations,” explained Wendy. “They were always wrong.”

Tarina recalled how Wendy could do calculations in her head faster than anyone in her class. She was nicknamed the Human Computer for her skill and accuracy at plotting courses through light years of space. She also wasn’t known for her humility.

“Well, I’m glad you’re here. All this secrecy is a bit unnerving.”

A major walked in and told everyone to follow him to the back of the hangar. A dark curtain hung from the ceiling to the floor.

“Welcome to Triple-Three Transport Squadron,” said Colonel Wright exuberantly as he walked out from behind the curtain.

A couple of the new officers chuckled.

Behind them, the hangar doors closed.

“Before I show you the ship you will be learning to fly, I want to make it perfectly clear that you are free to leave in the next two minutes and no one will think less of you. If you stay here, you are agreeing to undertake highly dangerous missions behind Kurgan lines without the hope or possibility of extraction. Should your craft become damaged and is unable to return, it will self-destruct, taking you with it. Should you become incapacitated for any reason, your ship will self-destruct. In short, your deep space raider will not fall into the hands of the enemy under any circumstances and neither will you.”

A captain put his hand up. “Sir, what if there is a malfunction or a computer error, will the ship still auto-destruct?”

“Yes,” replied Wright bluntly.

A murmur ran through the crowd.

“Now if any of you wish to leave and carry on to another assignment, please step aside and report to Major Fareed, who is standing off to the side of the hangar. He’ll have you sign a series of non-disclosure papers and make sure that you are dispatched with all haste to a real transport squadron.”

Tarina looked around. No one moved.

Wright looked over at a technician standing by the wall and nodded. The curtain began to rise behind him. “Now that we have that out of the way, feast your eyes on the X-5 Avenger.”

Tarina’s eyes widened when she saw the craft. It had two seats: one for the pilot, the other for the navigator. It was long and sleek, with short wings further back on the fuselage, which she took to be a sign that the Avenger could be used inside a planet’s atmosphere. At the back of the ship was a large engine unlike any she had ever seen. 

Wright walked over beside the Avenger. “On the drawing books before the outbreak of the war, the X-5 was rushed into production. It is unique in the fact that it has a jump engine. No other craft this small has this capability.”

“How far can it jump, sir?” asked Wendy.

“For now, that and all other technical information will remain secret.”

Tarina and Wendy exchanged a look of disbelief. What else was going to be classified? wondered Tarina.

Wright continued. “You’ll note there are no racks to mount missiles on. The only weapon you will have is a thirty millimeter cannon built into the nose of the craft. As space was limited inside the fuselage, you have only enough ammunition to defend yourself. Let me be clear, this is not a fighter. The Avenger is designed with only one purpose in mind, and that is deep space reconnaissance.”

“Sir, has it been tested yet?” asked a slender, dark-haired pilot.

“Yes, but not behind Kurgan lines.”

Someone in the back groaned.

“Come on, don’t be shy, crawl around the X-5,” said Wright, waving the pilots over. “For the next month you are going to learn all about this craft and what it can and can’t do. During that time, your skills will be evaluated. Don’t bother asking to team up with anyone. All crew assignments will be my call. One last thing before I turn you over to Major Fareed and tackle the mountain of paperwork sitting on my desk. I hope that you all spoke with your folks last night because as of right now, you are confined to base. You will hand over your phones and any other communications devices you have on you to Major Fareed. There will be no communication with the outside world until I say so.”

Wright paused and looked into the eyes of his handpicked personnel. With a grin etched on his face, he said, “Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the First Special Warfare Squadron.”

Chapter 14

Sheridan was tired and hungry. His muscles were tired and his joints ached. They were down to one meal a day and in the cold, it never seemed enough. With the temperature dropping daily, the clothes on their backs were not enough to keep them warm. 

Cole had a fire built. Sheridan was about to object when the sergeant pointed out that they were the only group of people sitting around in the woods without one. Having one made them fit in with their surroundings; should an enemy drone fly over it would just see another bunch of refugees trying to keep warm. Sheridan quickly relented. He knew Cole had made the right call. 

An hour later, Sheridan found himself on sentry duty. They had taken refuge for the day behind a large tree-covered mound. Sheridan sat with his back against a tall fir tree looking out toward the capital. He stopped counting the number of drones the Kurgans had in the sky over the city. Every couple of minutes one would let loose a missile, which would streak at supersonic speed at its target. Occasionally, the defenders would fire a ground-to-air missile up at the drones. It was suicide. The instant the soldiers in the city fired, three Kurgan drones would fire back, obliterating whoever had been there. The Marines trapped in the capital were being systematically hunted and destroyed without the Kurgans suffering a single casualty. Sheridan wondered how much longer this uneven fight could go on.

“Pretty gloomy sight, isn’t it?” said Cole as he sat down beside Sheridan. In his hands were two cups of black coffee.

“Doesn’t make me want to go there,” replied Sheridan.

“And yet here we