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The more they sat about, the more time they had to think about their predicament and theirs was bleak.

Chapter 22

Tarina sat behind her controls, going through a few last minute checks before she made her jump. Behind her, Wendy was checking and re-checking the calculations provided to them by the Avenger’s onboard navigation computer. She would not be happy until she had verified the numbers herself.

A voice spoke into their helmets. It was Colonel Wright. “Okay, folks, this is a simple mission. We are going to jump on either side of Derra-5, switch on our sensor arrays and record everything we can before the ships automatically jump back here five seconds later. If we hang around any longer than that the enemy will acquire us and fire a couple of missiles at us.”

“Got it, sir,” responded Tarina.

“Okay then, let’s do this.”

The launch bay depressurized. A second later, the doors below the two craft opened. Using their thrusters, the two pilots flew their ships out into space. When they were one hundred meters below the transport, Wright began the countdown.

With each passing second, Tarina grew nervous. Her hands tightened around the ship’s joystick. The instant Wright said “zero” Tarina engaged the jump engine. In a flash, both craft accelerated beyond the speed of light. 

Three minutes later, Tarina’s ship emerged on the far side of Derra-5. She could see dozens of Kurgan ships in orbit. Her craft’s sensors, augmented for the flight, got to work recording everything.

Wendy began the countdown for the return flight. In just five short seconds, Tarina and Wendy had just conducted their first combat mission and proven the viability of deep space reconnaissance. Before any Kurgan ship could lock onto them, they were gone.

The belly of the transport ship suddenly appeared above them. Tarina smiled and then flew up inside the launch hangar, as did Colonel Wright. The instant the doors closed beneath them, the transport engaged its jump engine, taking them far away from the Derran system.

The bay pressurized and the artificial gravity was re-engaged. A swarm of technicians ran over to help the crews out of their ships and to replace the expended power packs in their engines. 

As soon as she was out, Tarina walked over to Wright’s ship. “Sir, that was one really short ride.”

“Quick in and quick out, there’s nothing wrong with that,” replied Wright, handing off his helmet to a technician.

“I saw several dozen Kurgan warships and transports in orbit.”

“As did I.” 

“Sir, where are we heading to now?”

“We’re going to rendezvous with a frigate and transfer all of our data to her. She’ll then jump back to the fleet with our findings.”

“And us, sir?”

“We get ready for the next mission.”

“Which is?” asked Wendy.

Wright smiled at the two eager officers. “I suspect we’ll be heading back to Derra-5 in a couple of days. Until then, I want you to review the last mission to see if there is anything we might need to change the next time we do this. And I want you two to get some rest.” With that, he turned and left the hangar.

Lloyd, Wright’s navigator, walked over and joined the two women. They were about to head to the mess hall for some food when they saw a group of technicians wheel out a couple of large objects and move them over to the Avengers.

“What are those?” Lloyd asked one of the men.

“Satellites, sir,” replied one of the technicians.

Tarina grinned at her friends. “I guess we just found out what we’re doing next.”

Chapter 23

The dark gray waters of the river flowing underneath the bridge looked cold and inhospitable. Although it dropped below zero during the night, the river had yet to freeze over. Sheridan rubbed his cold hands together for a moment trying to warm them up. He swore under his breath as a body clinging to a piece of debris from the refugee camp floated by. It was not the first they had seen and it certainly would not be the last.

They had been at the bridge for a week and they had yet to see a single Chosen warrior. Although the frontline had crept closer each day, the enemy’s last major attack had met with failure. Sheridan had been told that the large Kurgan tanks were having a hard time navigating the narrow streets and that casualties on their side had been high during the last few days of fighting. A fresh division of Chosen soldiers had replaced the one in the front lines. Another attack was expected in the next twelve to twenty-four hours.

Sergeant Cole did not waste a single second. He had the men improve their defensive positions and taught them how to defend their positions when the enemy came.

Garcia, during a quick trip to the rear, had obtained several more med kits, which she gave to a couple of soldiers who said they had taken combat first aid.

Sheridan had just sat down to have a meal with Cole when a runner from Captain Rolleston arrived and handed him a note. Sheridan quickly read it over and signed the paper to let his superior know that he had acknowledged the message.

“What’s up?” asked Cole.

“Looks like we’re going to get another squad later tonight.”

“From where?”

Sheridan smiled. “Oh, you’re going to love this, they’re from one of the div’s logistics units. Seems that without any supplies coming in, they don’t need them anymore.”

“Jesus,” blurted out Cole. “They can’t be serious!”

“Oh, but they are.”

Cole shook his head. “Where do you want to put them?”

“They can be our reserve. Have them set up a position in the house right across the street and give them a lance corporal from one of the other squads as their assistant squad leader.”

“I’ll move Sampson; he’s a fairly switched-on lad for an artilleryman,” answered Cole, only half-joking.

At midnight, the reinforcements arrived. Cole and Sheridan made sure that they understood what was expected of them. They had volunteered to join the Marines on the front line, that alone made their arrival seem less onerous. 

After ensuring that everything was going as good as it could be, Sheridan grabbed his lightweight survival blanket. He was about to get comfortable on the floor when Roberts stuck his head inside the bunker and said, “Sir, you’ve got to come see this.”

“What’s going on?” asked Sheridan wearily.

“The drones are back.”

“So?”

“They aren’t firing missiles. They’re playing messages.”

Sheridan was tired, but his curiosity drove him to get up and see what was happening. He stepped out into the cold night air and saw a Kurgan drone hovering above the river. The holographic image of a healthy-looking Marine appeared onto the side of a building.

The image spoke. “My fellow Marines, you listen to me. You don’t have to die. If your officers are telling you that help is coming, it is a lie. No one is coming to help you. Your own people have written you off. You don’t need to die fighting for fat, incompetent officers and politicians who sit safely back on Earth while you fight and die out here.”

The Marine’s image faded and was replaced by a woman and her two young children happily walking through an open field. The sun was shining down on them. The message continued. “Marines, join us. Life on a Chosen world is one of peace and spiritual contentment. Walk toward our lines and you will be met and greeted as a fellow comrade fighting against the injustices of your unworthy leaders.”

Sheridan looked around and saw that some of his men were attentively watching the propaganda. He had heard enough. He brought up his rifle to his shoulder, made sure that the safety was off on the grenade launcher, and then took aim at the drone. A second later, he pulled back on the trigger. With a whoosh, the shell flew straight at the target. With a loud boom, the drone blew apart. 

A hand reached out of the dark and pulled Sheridan back off his feet and onto the ground just as a missile struck where he had been standing only a couple of seconds before. Sheridan looked over and saw Cole lying on the cold ground beside him.

“Sir, are you trying to get yourself killed?” asked Cole. “Didn’t you see the other drone?”

Sheridan shook his head. “No, I only saw the one.”

“Pay more attention next time.”

“Thanks for saving my life, Sergeant.” 

Cole stood up and helped Sheridan to his feet. “Think nothing of it. Now, why the hell did you fire on that drone?”

“I saw some of the replacements listening to the message. The last thing we need is people thinking about deserting to the enemy.”

Cole looked around at the men. Some were talking in hushed tones so they could not be heard. “Come on, sir, let’s visit the squads and put an end to any thoughts of desertion. I’ll put the fear of God into them. An hour from now, the propaganda drone’s message will all but be forgotten, but not my wrath.”

A couple of hours later, Sheridan was fast asleep on the floor of his bunker when he was awoken by Garcia, who handed him a steaming hot cup of coffee and another note from his company commander. After shaking the cobwebs from his mind, Sheridan took a seat and read over the message. It was an update from headquarters outlining the enemy’s possible courses of action over the next couple of days. He smirked when he saw that the enemy was not expected to do anything until they had reorganized their battered forces for another push. If history had taught Sheridan anything, it was that the enemy always did what they were not expected to do.

They were coming. It was just a question of how and when, thought Sheridan. 

“All quiet,” pronounced Cole as he walked into the command post. He was bundled up against the cold. A thick white layer of frost covered his scarf.

Sheridan handed him the note. “According to the people in the know, it’s going to stay that way for a while.”

“Shall we start a pool and see how long it is until they come?” asked Cole.

Sheridan glanced down at his watch. It would be light in an hour. “Looks like they won’t be coming for a few hours. Why don’t you put your head down and get an hour’s sleep? I’ll do a check of the position and then make us some breakfast.”

Cole nodded, dug out his blanket, wrapped it around his shoulders and fell asleep sitting up in his chair.

“Sir, I’m not due on shift for a couple of hours, can I tag along?” asked Roberts. “Tammy could use the exercise.”

“Sure, why not. The troops like to see her.” Whenever the soldiers saw the dog, no matter how tired they were, they always perked up and gave Tammy a pat on the head or a playful hug. The dog, of course, loved the attention.

After almost an hour checking that everything was as it should be, Sheridan, Roberts, and Tammy were carefully making their way back to the command post. Although the drone activity had dropped considerably