25

As expected, Rev’s call fell on deaf ears. While he knew the sailors needed some downtime, Tomiko had been right about the security aspect. Their own SOP stated that no one could leave their camp without a security presence. Accepting that “camp” included the castle and the shelters outside—even if a Lamix hadn’t been erected to protect the latter—that still meant that either he or Randigold had to accompany the civilians into the Zfthu village. That had lasted for four days, with the two of them alternating with each foray.

Conflicting with their SOP, however, were the First Contact Protocols, which stated that unless there was a perceived threat, there was to be no show of military force.

“Do you see any threat?” Njuguna had asked when he objected to her team going into the village without security.

“No,” he had to admit. “But that doesn’t mean one doesn’t exist.”

Njuguna brushed that off and waved the protocols in his face. Rev had no choice but to accede. He tried to use the same argument with Nyad, requesting that Tomiko and her Marines come first, set up, and then the sailors could come down for their party.

The CO must have been talking to Njuguna because he used the same argument. Given the protocols—and the fact that Nyad owned the shuttles—Rev’s hands were tied. This went against his instincts, but there was nothing he could do about it.

So, the next day, Rev was standing with Njuguna, meeting the first shuttle as it landed in the courtyard. Lieutenant Nissen was flying, and he spotted Rev through his windshield and gave him a thumbs-up. Rev couldn’t tell if he was being sarcastic or not.

Captain Nyad was the first one off the shuttle. Njuguna hadn’t thought he’d come, given that they tried to keep at least one of the three of them aboard the ship at all times. Rev was sure he’d come. The man had been upset that he hadn’t been on the FC, and time wouldn’t have calmed him down. He was the sort of man to let perceived slights fester.

He was all smiles, though, as he spotted the other two and strode over, hand outstretched.

“This is much more impressive in person,” he said as he shook their hands.

“Glad you can make it, Anthony,” Njuguna said. “We’ve been making great progress.”

“Yes, I’ve read the reports. I’m glad that I can finally get down here and see for myself, though.”

Njuguna’s smile hardened, but she did well to even keep it on her face.

“And who is this?” Nyad asked, stepping around them.

“This is Pika. She’s been assigned as our liaison,” Njuguna said.

“And their leadership?” Nyad asked.

Rev would swear the man seemed peeved.

“The Po are a different people,” Rev said. “They don’t like to impose on anyone.”

“But I can meet them, right?”

“Certainly, Captain,” Pika said. “If that is your desire.”

“I thought I’d give you the grand tour, Anthony,” Njuguna said. “And that would include meeting some of the other dragons.”

Rev bit back a smile. Dr. Njuguna was not a nickname kind of woman, but “Po” didn’t fall easily from the tongue. She’d recently adopted the dragon nickname when referring to them, especially as the Po themselves seemed to find it humorous after they were told the meaning of the word.

“And I’ll be handling the party. Who on your side is running it?”

“Talk to Umman,” Nyad said.

Gladly.

The first shuttle had emptied, and the passengers were clear, so it was just taking off. Nissen gave him another jaunty wave. He wouldn’t be going back to the ship, though. He’d park the shuttle outside the wall.

Rev spotted Umman in the mass of people. He gave the command master chief a shout to get his attention. Umman waved, and they met in the middle along the wall as the second shuttle came in to land.

“This is cool as shit,” Umman said. “It’s like some fantasy castle.”

“That’s what a lot of people think. Nyad says you’re honchoing the party?”

“We’re ready, but do you have a place for us? Not here, I hope. As cool as it looks, this would be like a steel beach party. We want dirt under our feet and long, long sightlines.”

“I figured that. How about alongside a creek where people can swim?”

Umman’s eyes lit up. “Swim? No shit?”

“I shit you not, Hank.”

“Perfect. Then, as soon as we’ve got everyone, let’s go.”

The second shuttle wasn’t all personnel. Several rolling vats came off the ramp.

“Chow,” Umman told Rev. “Some ’shine, too.”

“I don’t see Norton,” Rev said.

“Someone’s got to be in charge on the ship,” Umman said.

“Sucks to be him.”

“Nyad promised him he could come down later.”

The shuttle left to be replaced by the landing craft. Rev hadn’t liked that except for Clyburn in her Shrike, who was on standby alert and would stay that way for as long as Nyad and the sailors were on the surface, all three landing craft were going to be on the ground.

He’d argued that at least one of them should be in the air. He thought Nyad was just throwing him a bone to appease him after Rev lost the Tomiko argument; he agreed to have the landing craft take off and remain on station aloft.

With well over a hundred sailors in the courtyard, it was a clusterfuck of immense proportions. Sailors gawked at the castle and milled about. Some tried to wander off. In the end, it took almost a full hour after the landing craft left the courtyard before the gaggle was finally ready to move out.

The gate opened with its usual alacrity, and 102 sailors, more than two-thirds of the ship’s complement, followed Rev, Randigold, Punch, and Tiktik outside.

There were some impressive “awes” as the sailors took in the views. The morning was perfect, the sky so clear that Rev could easily see the tops of the far hills out beyond the horizon. Safe Harbor was known for its clean environment, but he didn’t think he’d ever seen air so clear in his life.

The civilian mission center was in full operation—the party wasn’t for them. There would be an entire shift in the main shelter, and from the battlement before the first shuttle arrived, Rev and Punch had seen eight researchers and three Po enter the village.

They passed alongside the octagon. Rev still didn’t know what the building was, and some of the sailors slowed down to peer inside the windows.

“Hey, look! Aliens,” one of the sailors said.

The rest swung around. At least thirty of the Zfthu were standing at the edge of the village watching the humans make their way down from the castle.

A hundred wristcomps started snapping holos as the excited sailors recorded the moment for posterity. There were the usual sailors turning around and trying to take their holosnaps with the Zfthu in the background.

“Keep moving,” Umman shouted.

But Rev caught him taking holosnaps as well.

Rev waved at the Zfthu. Njuguna’s team had told them that the wave was symbolic of peaceful relations, and they’d picked it up. Three of them waved back at Rev.

OK. I guess that’s better than none.

Over the course of the last two weeks, Rev had spent a total of eighteen hours with them, and he still didn’t have his finger on their pulse. They were withdrawn and reclusive.

While the Po left them generally alone, that was because of their professed desire not to bother their guests. The Zfthu seemed to be having as little to do as possible with the humans simply because they wanted to.

As a client-maybe-slave race to the Po, Randigold was of the opinion that they feared the humans were going to usurp their position. Rev wasn’t sure he bought that. It was more likely that they were just a reclusive race.

The sailors were in a good mood as they walked with songs and horseplay. They were like colts born in the barn and coming out into the open for the first time. It was completely understandable, and Rev smiled as he took in their excitement—excitement that only heightened once they crested the high banks and saw the swimming hole beneath them.

The lead sailors broke into a run. Umman tried to stop them, shouting that they needed to set up a lifeguard system, but he might as well have been trying to stop the tide from coming in. The first three sailors didn’t even pause to remove their work overalls but cannonballed right in, sending up huge splashes. Several more stopped to strip down before jumping in.

Tiktik and Boom streaked past Rev to join the sailors. The Kanters were a social race, and the two Kanters had seemed not quite themselves as the time away from the others had drawn on, but now they were full of energy again as they jumped in and swam circles around the humans.

“Maybe we should be calling them otters instead of lemmings,” Rev said with a laugh. “Look at them!”

Shouts and laughter filled the area.

“You’d think the squids have never seen water before,” Randigold said.

“Ha. I see what you did there. But really, for some of them, the only water they’ve seen during the expedition was in the kiddie pool in the hangar.”

The bulk of the sailors arrived, and Chief Hallison, the mess chief, took over, shanghaiing “volunteers” to set up the food. Rev edged over. When the first of the civilian team arrived on day three (and the tourists went back), they did bring some real food, just as Tomiko had said they would. That had been a welcome respite, but most of it was gone by day eight. This, by the look and smell of things, was going to be a feast.

He snuck in and swiped two pieces of fried chicken. The petty officer holding the tray started to protest until she recognized him.

Rev returned to Randigold and handed her one of the pieces. “Rank hath its privileges.”

Punch had watched the theft, but with his Genesian face, Rev couldn’t tell what he made of it. With his black-and-white sense of morality, he was probably disappointed.

“If you could smell this, you’d know why I took it,” Rev said before sinking his teeth into the crispy skin and reaching the moist meat underneath.

Juices ran down his chin, and he wiped one of his prosthetic fingers, then sucked it clean.

“I can smell it.”

Rev stopped mid-bite.

“You can smell this? This chicken?”

“The Genesian shell has the ability to pull molecules from the air and analyze them, then convey the signals into the olfactory cortex.”

Rev had never considered that, but it made sense. However, Punch didn’t have an olfactory cortex, and as he was designed to be an embedded AI, he wasn’t given the ability to sense smells.

He wanted to ask him how the shell was connecting the signals to him, or at least how he was interpreting them, but Randigold was right there beside him, and that might alert her that “Punt Six” was more than he seemed.

It was a needless worry.

“Wait a minute. You don’t even have an olfactory cortex,” Randigold said.

Rev froze for a moment, then slowly turned to her.

“Why do you think that?” he asked cautiously.

Randigold scowled. “Uh, because I’ve got a battle buddy, too, and I listened up at the lectures we got when I got her. What do you think?”

The half-eaten chicken leg was forgotten as Rev asked, “You know who Punt Six is?”

“Of course, I do.”

“How?” Rev asked as his face went pale.

“Duh! The gennies said our AIs were slaves, then you let them test all of our AIs. Then a new genny just happens to appear—Punt—and all of a sudden, you’re using a wristcomp?”

Rev had thought that only Tomiko, Kelly, and Wolf knew who Punch was, so this was a surprise. How many others knew?

“Who else knows?”

“Anyone who’s got half a brain does, I’m sure. But you didn’t brief us, so I figured it was on the down-low.”

Rev let that sink in. If Randigold had figured it out, then others might have as well. All the subterfuge to hide Punch’s identity might have been for naught.

“What do you think about this?” he asked Punch.

“I told you that you couldn’t keep this hidden. It seems as if I was right.”

“If you were hiding it, Sergeant Major, then maybe you should have picked another name rather than ‘Punt.’”

“It was hard enough for some people to accept the gennies. But this makes Punch an android.”

“And we all fear the Deimers, Sergeant Major. I get it. And don’t worry. I won’t say anything.”

She raised her prosthetic arm to Punch, who tapped it with his. They kept their arms raised while Randigold gave him an expectant look. Rev hurriedly joined his arm to the Three Musketeers salute.

“Sibs in Steel,” they said in unison.

I guess that’s right. If anyone can say it, Punch deserves to.

“Chow’s ready!” Chief Hallison shouted.

But the sailors hadn’t been on combat rats for the last two weeks. There was a general movement to the head of the line, but most of the sailors were enjoying the water, climbing on the rocks, or just chatting in small groups.

Normally, Rev would be among the last to eat, with only the four or five officers at the party going after him. But with so few grabbing their chow now, he figured it would be OK if he grabbed a plate. He and Randigold left Punch and fell in on the rear of the small initial line.

Rev’s attention was on the portable tables as he tried to see what else the chief had brought when Randigold nudged him.

“We’ve got company. They even brought the kids to see the crazy humans.”

Sure enough, there were more than a dozen Zfthu on the high ground between them and the village. Four of them were juveniles. They weren’t actually trying to stay out of sight, but they weren’t making themselves obvious as they watched, either.

“Maybe they don’t swim,” Rev said. “That would make us curiosities.”

“They’re kinda cute, for young’uns, that is.”

“You getting soft on me, Eth? I keep saying you’ve got to hook up before all the good ones are gone. We’ve got a limited gene pool, you know.”

“What is it with you and Strap, always trying to hook me up? And you’re assuming that we ever had any good ones in the first place?”

“What about Daryll?”

She rolled her eyes and scowled.

Rev had no idea if there really was anything between the two of them.

“I’m just telling you. You don’t want to be all alone in your old age as the crazy cat lady but without any cats.”

He winced as soon as he said it. Randigold would never get to old age. But she rescued him from his faux pas with mock outrage.

“Who’s the HR person in this expedition? You’re getting a little personal, Sergeant Major.”

“We’re Marines. We don’t have any. Now, grab a plate and start loading up before the rest of these squids decide they’re hungry.”

He willed the line to hurry, but finally, he was dishing up Centauri Salad, Minmin Taters, and Southern Fried Chicken. There was more, including dessert, but those were going to have to wait until he cleared some room on the plate—and maybe his belly, too, from the looks of the bounty spread before him.

“Hey, Chief. This looks good, but you needed to bring bigger plates!” he told the mess chief.

Hallison laughed and waved at Rev when something slammed into his chest. His eyes widened in shock, and he collapsed.

Rev dropped his full plate to the ground, pulled out his MF-30, and wheeled around. The group of Zfthu who’d been watching them were no longer standing in the open at the top of the high ground. Now, they were taking cover behind the trees and rocks.

One stepped to the side of a large rock and raised something that looked like a cross between a crossbow and an arquebus. Rev didn’t need to recognize exactly what it was to know a weapon when he saw one.

The Zfthu was about fifty meters from Rev. That would be no problem with Pashu, but it was a long shot with an MF-30, especially as he hadn’t fired one in over three years, and that was on the range.

“Get out of the water!” he shouted as he leveled his handgun and took a single measured shot while his warrior self rushed to the fore.

To his utter surprise, the two-millimeter dart took the alien high in the shoulder, spinning it around and down.

More Zfthu flitted among the trees, firing their weapons, which made snapping sounds. Another sailor was flung back into the tables, knocking serving trays off and onto the ground, making a clatter that finally seemed to catch people’s attention.

Talik, one of Doctor Rima’s medtechs, took several steps toward the sailor, when he was struck in the back and fell on top of her.

Screams broke the peace as sailors started scrambling out of the water.

“Eth! Punch! Get them together and head back to the castle,” he yelled.

Then initiated Priority 1-A and shouted into his wristcomp, “Miko! Activate the QRF and get your asses down here. We’re being attacked by the yetis. And get some fire support on us!”

He didn’t wait for a response. Under Priority 1-A, the message would keep getting repeated until the recipient, in this case, Tomiko, acknowledged it.

With that done, he had to let the civilians know what was happening. They had people outside of the castle as well.

He ordered his wristcomp onto the general line.

“This is Sergeant Major Pelletier. We’re being attacked by yetis. All hands, get back to the castle now!”

A voice Rev didn’t recognize said, “Team Two is being attacked now, too. This is fucked up! But I think they’re trying to get back.”

That was it. An unknown voice saying things were fucked up.

Rev couldn’t do much for anyone else now. He had to let them try and deal with the situation while he got his sailors to safety.

This wasn’t going to be easy. Most of the sailors were in full panic mode. Rev briefly caught a glimpse of Lieutenant Zybar trying to create a sense of order.

But he had to trust him, Punch, and Randigold. More bolts were whistling in from the high ground, and around him, sailors were dropping.

Rev let instinct take over. His MF-30 was not an IBHU by a long shot and was a self-defense weapon, but it was all he had. He charged up the hill, his legs churning the soil under his tread. A Zfthu saw him and fired a quick shot that sent a black bolt well over Rev’s head. Rev fired twice as the alien scrambled backward. The second dart took it in the back, sending it face-first into the dirt, where it kicked once, then went still.

With two more strides, Rev gained the high ground. The creek had cut a ten-meter-deep gully through the forest floor, thirty-five meters wide at the swimming hole, narrower downstream. From where he was at the top, between the swimming hole and the village, he could see at least twenty or twenty-five Zfthu firing into the gully. Another twenty were rushing to join them.

In the village, the sounds of screams—human screams—reached him, and he could see what looked to be hundreds of Zfthu, most armed with various weapons and what looked like agricultural tools.

This wasn’t some spur-of-the-moment attack. This was something that had been planned for a while.

Like maybe two weeks.

The details and the why of what was happening weren’t his main concern now. The sailors were in a kill sack, and they weren’t armed. If they were going to escape, Rev had to break the assault.

He risked a quick look down into the site. Randigold was physically pushing sailors to get them moving while Punch and Zybar were rounding up the others. Umman was trying to lift Chief Hallison’s limp body.

More sailors were falling under the heavy onslaught of fire.

That was all he had time for. Rev charged down the ambush position. He killed one Zfthu who’d been so intent on firing at the sailors that it never considered its flank. The next one saw Rev but couldn’t swing its big weapon around before Rev placed two darts in its face.

There’d been some debate on whether the Zfthu’s head housed a brain or was more of a periscope of sorts for its eyes. This Zythu instantly went limp in death.

I guess it’s a brain, after all.

A bolt slammed into the tree centimeters from Rev’s right knee. Rev darted to the side but kept forward motion.

You’re not in a PAL, Reverent. You’re not invulnerable.

More bolts clattered off the tree trunks, these coming from the Zfthu rushing in from the village. One was deflected, the shaft hitting Rev in the shoulder before bounding off. His right hand went numb, and he dropped the handgun.

“Shit!”

He picked it up with his prosthesis. Rev had fired an MF-30 with his social arm before, but that was years ago. Why would he ever resort to that when his left combat arm was an IBHU?

He took cover behind a tree trunk and fired at the onrushing Zfthu, sending at least ten darts. It was a miracle that he hit any of them, but one dropped hard, and another was hit in the leg.

At least it let the others know he had teeth, and they scattered to take cover.

Rev glanced at the LED. He wasn’t a big fan of the MF-30. He liked big rounds instead of little darts. But the advantage of darts was that the magazine could carry a lot of rounds in a single brick. A “94” flashed at him.

The rush from the village might have paused, but the initial ambush was still active. No one seemed to realize that there was a lion in their midst, and Rev was going to make them pay before the others got up enough nerve to rush him.

He flexed his right fingers, trying to will feeling back, before searching for his next target. And there it was. Between branches, Rev caught sight of part of a torso prone on the ground. He took his time, using his sight picture, then barely squeezed off a shot. At this range, the dart was almost like shooting a laser. It passed between the branches and slammed into the Zfthu, who immediately screamed like a rabbit in a fox’s jaws and rolled out of sight.

Now Rev had to move. He couldn’t afford to creep through the trees and rocks, hoping to spot another target. His people were dying down at the creek, and the longer he took, the more would fall.

Rev started running, sweeping the area for a target. He rounded a rock and tripped over a prone body. He wasn’t sure who was more surprised. But he was sure who reacted quicker.

He’d dropped his MF-30 in the collision, but he had to do something. Rev pushed off with his right leg and threw his body into the Zfthu. He slammed the closed fist of his social arm into the thing’s face again and again.

The Zfthu braced its own feet and pushed away. It was much, much stronger than it looked, and it almost succeeded in creating space between them. But Rev managed to hook his still-tingling right hand in the crossed belts on its chest.

He smashed the alien five, six more times until the face collapsed inward on itself in a fountain of orange blood.

Rev was breathing hard, both from adrenaline and just being out of shape. He spared a single curse for the rot and scrambled to find his MF-30. It took five long, panicky seconds before he spotted it. He automatically picked it up with his right hand before he realized that the numbness was almost gone.

Thank the Mother for small favors.

A slightly numb right hand could shoot better than his prosthetic left hand.

He glanced at the Zfthu’s weapon, briefly wondering if he should take it. But he had no idea how it worked, so he left it there and started moving again.

He could see into the swimming hole from here. There were a few stragglers, with Zybar pulling up the rear, but most of the sailors were already out of sight, moving up the creek. Three bodies were floating face down in the water, slowly drifting downstream.

Rev hesitated for a moment when four Zfthu broke from their positions to chase the humans. At this range, it was like shooting fish in a barrel. Rev only needed six darts to send all four tumbling down the slope, one dead Zfthu reaching the creek with a splash just as a human body passed it. Together, they continued on their death journey downstream.

Hoots and shrieks echoed around him, and Rev’s warrior urged him to root the enemy out. But his rational side knew his place was with his charges, not ramboing it here.

Rev was still winded, but that was life. Or death, as the case might be. He took two deep breaths, then broke out from the cover of the rocks and trees and sprinted toward the retreating sailors.

There were more hoots and shouts as the Zfthu spotted Rev, and bolts chased him as he ran. Maybe they underestimated his speed, or maybe they were just bad shots, but almost all of the bolts hit behind him.

Almost wasn’t all. One bolt tore through his utility blouse and scored his side. He could feel blood start to flow down to his hip. His side burned, but he thought the subcutaneous mesh that helped support the weight of his IBHU might have diverted the bolt just enough so that it didn’t penetrate into his organs but rather ripped open his skin in a long gash.

It didn’t slow him down, though. He poured on the speed, vaulting rocks and a fallen tree to reach the sailors.

A Zfthu rushed to cut him off. It should have just shot him. Rev fired his MF-30, and at least one dart connected. The alien stumbled to one knee, then put out a hand as if to keep itself upright before collapsing.

With five more bounds, Rev was around the bend of the creek and momentarily out of the line of sight of the ambushers.

The depth of the gully was getting shallower. Up ahead, he knew the creek curved to the right and was diverted around and past the castle and into the distance, where it was fed by the waterfall. If they could get to the bend, they’d be less than two hundred meters to the gate and what he hoped was safety.

Rev caught up with the last of the sailors. Lieutenant Zybar was pulling along one who had blood soaking his left overall leg. The sailor was hopping, his arm around the lieutenant’s shoulder.

Rev was stronger than the lieutenant, and his initial inclination was to stop and help, but he was the only one with a weapon, as far as he knew, and he had to be able to employ it without being encumbered.

“Come on, Lieutenant. You’ve got this,” he said as he fell in behind the two.

Someone ahead went down screaming. Rev bolted forward several strides before he saw the Zfthu at the top of the slope, its weapon aimed into the mass of fleeing sailors. It fired again, a split second before Rev could hit it.

Another sailor went down. Two more stopped to grab her arms and drag the limp body along.

I can’t see what’s happening!

Downstream, the creek seemed natural. Further upstream, its path had been artificially rerouted—from the looks of it, to send water to the village as well as go around the castle.

The lead sailors had already reached the artificial stream bed, and that exposed them to the village. Two more were hit, one going down hard.

Rev left Zybar behind as he sprinted forward until he could see the Zfthu settlement. Several things registered at once. A Po was rushing toward the castle, its eighteen small legs pushing it along at a surprising pace.

The speed didn’t do them much good. First, a Zfthu jumped out of cover to stand in front of the Po, arms outstretched to stop them. The Po had about twice the mass of the Zfthu. Rev expected the Po to bowl over the other alien, but instead, they tried to avoid it, darting around. That slowed their forward momentum, and a bolt took the Po in the back, just above the shoulders, knocking them down as five or six more bolts pincushioned the alien.

It was five or six bolts because there was an entire mob of Zfthu chasing the Po, a carpet of angry bodies that seemed to cover the ground. There was no sign of the civilian team.

Rev instinctively shot five darts into the mass of aliens before fire discipline took hold. He checked his dart count; he had sixty-eight darts left, and there were at least that many Zfthu ahead of them.

There was no way the sailors would be able to reach the castle without being cut off. The moment they realized the Po was dead, they’d start looking around, and when they saw the sailors, they’d reorient on them.

Not part of the mob, a Zfthu appeared on this side of the village. Rev was on automatic. He fired a quick shot that ran true and dropped the attacker before it could fire, all while his mind raced to figure out a course of action.

He gave a quick glance to the right, away from the village. They could scatter, but from the looks of it, there were a hell of a lot more Zfthu than there were humans, and this was their backyard. All running would do would be to delay the inevitable. Maybe by spreading out, some could survive until Tomiko and the QRF arrived, but then they’d have to somehow be gathered and evacuated.

They could try to fight their way to the castle, and maybe a few might make it. But most would not.

He needed someplace he might be able to hold until the QRF got there. That left one option.

“Punch! Eth!” he bellowed at the top of his voice. ‘The octagon! Get everyone inside.”

A prosthetic arm raised above the rush of sailors and waved, and within a few moments, there was a slight shift in direction toward the building . . . and toward the Zfthu. It was going to be a race to see if the humans could get there before the aliens reacted.

Which didn’t take long. With their Po quarry dead, most of the Zfthu diverted to the research shelter. Rev hoped that those on duty there had managed to get out and back to the safety of the castle. Other Zfthu turned back toward the village, which allowed them to spot the humans in the creek gully.

With hoots and barks, they pointed exactly as a human would. Most of the ones that had turned back were armed with what looked to be agricultural tools. They broke into a run to clash with the sailors.

There were a few screams from the humans as they tried to break into a sprint. Some were able to. Others were wounded.

Either the human screams or the Zfthu barks alerted the better-armed group that was heading to the castle. Rev thought that the octagon blocked that group’s view of most of the humans for a moment, and he wanted to maximize that. He broke off to the left and ran toward the village. He fired five more darts. This was well beyond the handgun’s maximum effective range, but without a chemical explosion that would cause a loud report, he needed to hit somebody for them to know he was firing at them.

Unfortunately, none of them fell, but they sure saw him. Bolts started falling around him, but he was unscathed as he seemingly charged the village. Maybe he was out of their effective range as well.

He switched targets and hit two of the tool-wielding attackers. That caught their attention, and they scattered before him. The others saw that, and probably sensing Rev as a threat to the village, they altered their course to cut him off.

As long as they weren’t heading to the sailors, Rev was fine with that.

A bolt struck him on the side of his knee. It felt like he’d been kicked by a mule. But the heavy joint reinforcement stopped it from crippling him. Rev fired another three darts, then reached down and pulled the bolt out.

His knee was screaming, but it still held his weight.

He’d been lucky so far, but there was no doubt that a flush shot from close in could penetrate to one of his vital organs. At some point, and soon, his luck was going to run out.

Rev felt more than heard the pounding behind him. He spun around, MF-30 ready, but it was Punch, who’d taken off his shirt, his metallic torso gleaming in the sun.

His battle buddy charged the Zfthu, and Rev was almost forgotten as they focused on this new alien demon who’d invaded their turf.

“Get back to the octagon,” Punch said as he charged past.

That wasn’t going to happen. Rev pushed through the pain in his knee and started to follow.

“Back, Rev. The bolts won’t penetrate my shell!”

As proof, two bolts hit him, one high on the chest, one on a leg. Both ricocheted off.

“They need your help.”

Rev risked a glance down at the octagon. Several sailors were trying to force open the only door in sight. It wasn’t working. There was a crash as a window broke, then people were being bodily thrown through it by the other sailors.

Punch was angling away from the armed group, back toward the swimming hole. Five or six Zfthu in that direction faded back into the buildings.

“Shit!” Rev shouted as he turned and sprinted down the slope to the octagon.

A few bolts chased him, but most of the Zfthu’s attention was on Punch. Another window broke, but there were still a lot of sailors to get through two windows.

Rev sped up and reached the mass of bodies crowding the octagon. Randigold was trying to control the sailors, and a few were heeding her, but most were simply trying to get into the building.

Rev pushed several of them aside and smashed the last window on this side of the building with his prosthetic arm.

“You and you. You’re in charge. Get bodies inside,” he told two of the larger sailors.

He grabbed a panic-stricken young sailor and pushed her at one of them. The man caught her and looked at Rev, then it all kicked in. He picked up the young sailor and shoved her through the window.

Between Randigold and him, and then joined by Umman, they gained a modicum of control, and the entry process developed. Several sailors took over to feed bodies to those shoving people through.

Zybar, still helping the wounded sailor, huffed and puffed as he finally arrived. He started to say something to Rev, when a bolt sunk itself in his shoulder and penetrated through to hit the chest of the sailor he was assisting. Another bolt hit the wall of the octagon and bounced off. A sailor screamed in pain.

Rev broke free and jumped to where he could see what was happening.

Punch was running parallel to the edge of the village, and it seemed as if half of the planet was chasing him. But not all. A group of about twenty were heading down the hill toward them.

Behind him, there were at least fifty sailors still outside. They weren’t going to find cover before the Zfthu reached them.

“Well, hell.”

Rev crouched behind a rock. It wasn’t much cover, but he could at least use it to steady his arm as he fired.

He took several deep breaths and tried to slow his pulse. An MF-30 was not a sniper rifle, but marksmanship was marksmanship.

He started targeting the onrushing Zfthu.

Good sight picture. Squeeze the trigger. One shot, one kill.

His first shot dropped the nearest Zfthu. His second connected as well, and they seemed to realize what was happening. They dropped to take any cover they could. But they were higher on the hill where the cover was minimal. Rev shot the hip of one Zfthu who couldn’t get its entire body behind a rock. He hit another mid-chest as it tried to bound forward. Then it was a miss.

He was aware of Punch in the distance, and when his battle buddy quickly changed direction, he changed his focus for a moment. A Zfthu had jumped up out of seemingly nowhere, a large metal instrument in its hands. As it swung down on the charging AI, Punch hit it low and hard. Rev could almost hear the thing’s back break as Punch kept running.

“There goes our argument, Buddy,” Rev muttered.

Once Punch’s true nature was revealed, they’d planned to say that he was programmed to be unable to harm another living being—something he’d just proven to be a lie, judging from the limp body up the hill.

Not that he blamed him. That was for another time, though. A bolt hit the rock Rev was using as cover, sending several chips into his face.

Rev spared one last glance as Punch disappeared over the rise with a mob after him, then he was back to picking targets. His dart count kept creeping down. Even with the rock to steady his arm, he was now missing half of the shots as the Zfthu started using better military tactics.

He didn’t have to kill them all, though. As long as they stayed off long enough for the sailors to gain the inside of the building, then that was a win.

More Zfthu from inside the village started to join those in front of Rev. He managed to hit one, but that didn’t slow the rest down much.

“Rev, what’s your situation?” The most beautiful voice in the galaxy came over his comms.

He looked up in the sky, but there was no sign of the landing craft.

He’d been a Marine too long, and he reverted to military speak and tone.

“I’ve got a hundred sailors attempting egress into the octagon and three hundred yetis in a general assault on humans and Po. Twenty-plus yetis, armed with crossbows, are assaulting our position, with forty or fifty more joining them. Most yetis are armed with tools and agricultural implements. I need you to intervene between the village and octagon.”

“Understood. I’m trying to get eyes on the battle area.”

“What’s your ETA, Miko?”

“We just passed the NOCOMMS. Give us twenty-one minutes.”

“Can you get orbital fire? We need it. Danger close.”

“Can’t. That needs Nyad’s codes, and we can’t reach him.”

“He’s in the damn castle!”

“He’s not answering, Rev. And they can’t unlock the guns without the code.”

“Fuck!” he shouted just as a Zfthu jumped up out of seemingly thin air not twelve meters from him.

Rev shot it, letting his anger flow. Not being able to get orbital fire was ridiculous. There was a procedure for recovering the codes should something happen to the CO, but that would take hours. It shouldn’t have come to that, though. If Nyad was on the planet, then Norton should already have them.

Screwed up Navy procedures!

“Miko, I don’t know if we can hold. Get your ass down here.”

“You damn well better hold, Rev. Just twenty more minutes.”

“Sergeant Major!” a sailor shouted from behind him. “The sergeant says for you to get your ass back down here.”

Rev risked a quick look. There were about eight sailors and Randigold left outside. Arms from inside were reaching through the windows to pull the others in.

In front of him were at least a hundred Zfthu. Rev wasn’t familiar with them as an opponent, but he’d been in a lot of battles in his life, and he could feel the anticipation in the air. He knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that they were not going to let a single human hold them off. They were going to charge.

“Shit!” he said, then, “Gotta go, Miko. Get here quick.”

Before he could have second thoughts, he jumped to his feet and bolted toward the octagon. A moment later, he heard the barking of a hundred voices as the Zfthu rose to their feet and gave chase. A few bolts clattered around him, but it looked like they wanted to close in and do this hand-to-hand.

Randigold was pushing on the butt of a huge sailor while others were pulling on him. The big body finally slipped inside. Randigold turned to Rev and took a step toward him.

“Get your ass inside!” he shouted as he angled for the next window over. Faces peered out at him, and two arms reached through.

“Get out of the way!”

Zfthu to his left suddenly appeared and began to close in.

The bastards were going to flank me.

He’d never seen them maneuver, and that might cost him his life.

He put on a burst of speed, getting every bit out of his tired legs. A Zfthu, quicker than the others, sped up as well. It reached the corner of the octagon just as Rev hit the final fifteen meters.

It tried to dive at Rev with a tackle that would make a flipball coach proud. But Rev had played, too, and he knew what to do. As his right foot hit the ground, he twisted and put every ounce of his strength into the punch that hit the Zfthu in the back of the head just as its arms started to wrap themselves around Rev’s waist.

It crumpled at his feet. Three more strides and Rev launched himself in the air. Frightened sailor faces dove out of the way as 230 kg of Marine rocketed through the opening.

His wounded side slammed into the window sill, then his leg hit hard, spinning him around. He landed on the floor sideways and with force, bowling over three sailors who’d been standing in the way.

He looked to his right even before he stopped bouncing. Randigold was bodily yanked through and landed on the floor.

Two bolts shot through that window to smash into a machine that dominated the middle of the room.

“Everybody, get away from the windows!” Rev shouted as he scrambled to his feet.

He rushed to the edge of the window he’d come through. This is what they invented Optisights for, but of course, he didn’t have one.

Always come prepared, Reverent, rules be damned.

If he hadn’t ignored the rules, he wouldn’t even have his MF-30, which might be the only thing between them and being overrun.

Even without an Optisight, Rev had to see what was happening. He edged his head around. Punch was not in sight, and some of those who’d been chasing him were returning. Rev hoped that was because his buddy had gotten away, but he feared that wasn’t the case. Genesian shell or not, he wasn’t invulnerable, and that had been a lot of Zfthu chasing him.

He had to compartmentalize. He couldn’t worry about Punch now when the rest of them were under a huge threat. The Zfthu, seeing their prey escape into the building, were not going to let that be the end of it. More and more were rising from whatever cover they’d used and were advancing. Rev fired five more darts, hitting three. That gave him a momentary pause, but he knew it wouldn’t last.

Stepping back, he took in the building. It seemed larger than it had looked from the outside. In the center was a contraption of pipes and machinery—his initial impression was that it was a pump, maybe to get water from the creek to the village. For a moment, he wondered if he could use it as a hostage of sorts. Surely the Zfthu didn’t want it damaged.

But he immediately dismissed that. The last twenty minutes had convinced him that the Zfthu were playing for keeps.

There wasn’t much else there. A meter-high box made of what looked like the same translucent material he’d seen for the Po lifter that had carried the food to the Zfthu. The outward appearance had been enough for Rev to assume the building was Po-made, but the box confirmed that in his mind.

He didn’t see anything that he could use as a weapon, not that he’d thought there would be. But he needed to think of something to hold off the Zfthu until Tomiko could get there.

The sailors were huddling. While some were whimpering, most of the panic seemed to be shifting to anger as what had happened sunk in. Rev knew he had to make use of that anger.

Long ago, Punch had told him the story of Horatius Cocles, the Roman Republic army officer who’d held off the attacking Clusium force at the Pons Sublicius, the bridge leading into Rome proper. Maybe because Rev had often felt it was him standing alone against the galaxy, the story had resonated with him, and it had motivated him during battles several times in his career.

The octagon was not a bridge. But the same concept of limited passage allowing a smaller force to hold back a larger force was in place here. There was a door into the building that the sailors couldn’t open, and if this really was Po-made, then it made sense that they wouldn’t allow the Zfthu access. That left eight windows. If they could block them . . .

“Listen up,” he shouted, gaining their attention. “You, you, and you,” he said, pointing at three sailors who looked angry. “Position yourself at that window. If any of the yetis try to come in, you don’t let them. Understand?”

“Fuck yeah!” one of them said as he punched his open hand with his opposite fist.

The three pushed their way to Rev’s window. One passed in front of it just as a bolt flew in, barely missing him.

“And don’t expose yourself.” He then addressed the rest. “We’ve got eight windows. I want them all covered.”

“What use is it? There’re so many of them!” one of the engineering officers said.

Rev started to snap at him, but then he realized they didn’t know that the QRF was on its way.

“We don’t have to hold them off forever. Gunnery Sergeant Pelletier is on her way with the QRF. We only have to hold off the yetis for fifteen minutes.”

That got their attention. Rev could see the hope wash over them. Hope and determination.

That determination almost broke as first one, then another bolt flew across the space, each hitting a sailor. Two Zfthu were leaning in the third broken window, the one on the end. With their weapons actually inside, the pump offered the only cover, and precious little of it.

There were twenty or more sailors between him and the window, but Rev started to push bodies out of the way. Four sailors, closer to the window, beat him. They fell upon it. One of them took a bolt through the stomach, but the other three grabbed the weapons and yanked. A weapon was released, but the other Zfthu fought, and in the struggle, was pulled through the window and into the building.

The three sailors seemed shocked for a moment as if they didn’t know what to do.

Only for a moment.

With inarticulate shouts, they fell on the Zfthu, punching and kicking. More sailors joined them. Rev reached them, then stepped back. There was nothing more he could do.

“Rev!” Randigold, who’d stayed by her window, called out.

He hurried over.

“There have to be hundreds out there,” she said, pointing at the window.

Rev peeked out. She was right. More and more were in a wave of flesh as they poured out of the village, more than he’d imagined could live there. In a couple of minutes, they’d reached the fifty or sixty who were advancing in a decent rendition of a Marine assault.

Not perfect. Several exposed themselves too much in their rushes. Rev took a moment to remind them of their mistake, managing to drop several before a volley of bolts flew at him. He could see them coming, and he ducked back before they hit. Three of four made it through the window to skip across the floor and make sailors dodge, while the rest hit the outside wall.

The nearest Zfthu were conducting controlled rushes, but from what he saw, the mob rushing to join them was just going to try to overrun them in a tsunami of violence.

The sailors weren’t moving quickly enough for him. “Get those windows covered! Now!”

He had to let the QRF know what was going on.

“Miko, we’ve all made it inside the octagon, and there’re now hundreds of yetis heading our way.”

“Roger that. So, everything outside of the building is a free fire zone?”

Rev hesitated. “There was a civilian team and some dragons in the village, and I don’t know what happened in the research shelters.”

“So, the village itself and the shelters are a restricted fire zone?”

Rev had seen the running Po get killed. In his heart, he knew that if there was anyone still in the village, they were dead. And if what he’d just seen, the village was crawling with Zfthu who wanted that for every human and Po on the planet.

Punch was out there, too, but if he was still alive, he wouldn’t be near the village.

He had to make one of those command decisions that he knew he’d second guess forever.

“No. Free fire in the village. Use your judgment on the shelters.”

Tomiko didn’t question him. “Roger that. We’re on our way.

Rev had seen a lot of tools being carried, but evidently enough of them were carrying the crossbows. The bolts sounded like hail hitting a tin roof. And some were making it through the three broken windows. Not everyone could get out of the way, and screams filled the building as people were hit.

A fourth window broke with a crash, sending shards into the sailors who’d been huddling near it to keep out of the line of fire from the other three.

Zfthu had reached the building, and fights were breaking out at the four windows. Two, then three of the defenders went down, but they were either beating the Zfthu back or pulling them inside, where the rest of the sailors descended on them like schools of piranha.

A Zfthu was yanked inside through Rev’s window. It hit the floor hard as it barked and fought. Rev didn’t watch. Another ten or twelve were within five meters of the window. At this range, Rev couldn’t miss. He fired his MF-30, trying not to look at the dart count.

Several of the Zfthu darted to the side, but more kept coming. Bodies were piling up, but the next ones clambered over them in their eagerness to get at the humans.

Rev kept shooting—one target, one kill. He ignored those that reached the window, trusting his sailors to take care of them, as he maneuvered to get a clear shot at those farther away.

And then his MF-30 beeped, and the indicator went red. He was out.

He took a quick look around the building to take in a kaleidoscope of action that was hard to make sense of. More windows had been broken. Two Zfthu had made it inside and were swinging the long, hoe-like tool. One connected with a sailor’s head before more overwhelmed the enemy.

Everywhere, hand-to-hand fighting had broken out. To his left, Randigold was locked in a death struggle with a giant Zfthu. Rev started to go to help when a hand grabbed at him and spun him around.

The Zfthu was trying to pull him closer to be able to stick him with a long, narrow spike.

Rev let his warrior self free. With a snarl, he swung his prosthetic arm, the fist crushing half of the Zfthu’s face and sending a jolt through his shoulder that went all the way down to his feet.

An arm reached in, and he slammed his own arm down on it, breaking it with a satisfying snap.

The next few minutes were a blur. Zfthu tried to get to him through the bodies of their dead. Rev and Petty Officer Houta were a team, creating an impassable barrier at the window.

It was smash, twist, and grab. Anything. A bolt went through his right upper arm, and he was being cut, but nothing was going to stop him. He was vaguely aware of more and more Zfthu gaining the inside of the building, but his focus was on his window.

Rev wasn’t completely lost in the heat of the battle, though. He could see what was happening. Zfthu were hacking away at the walls with axes, and an unending wave of them were making their way down the slope.

An axe head penetrated the wall between him and Randigold, and Rev knew that was the beginning of the end. Once they breached it, there was nothing they’d be able to do.

“Stop them from breaking through,” he told Houta. “I’ve got this.”

“You sure?”

“Go.”

Houta moved to where the axes were tearing up the wall.

Rev adjusted his position to cover the entire window. He stepped on Lieutenant Beaton’s body, which made him stumble. That gave one of the Zfthu its shot. It half jumped, half pulled itself through, then launched at Rev and slammed into his chest.

Rev tried to brace his feet, but Beaton’s body wouldn’t allow that. Instead, he embraced the Zfthu, using its momentum to push both of them free. The Zfthu had one of the spikes, and it tried to drive it under Rev’s chin, but now, it didn’t have leverage. Rev stopped the arm.

The Zfthu was far stronger than it looked, but Rev was more powerful. He bent the arm until the spike’s tip was pointed at it. The Zfthu realized its predicament and tried to drop the spike, but Rev wrapped his fingers around its hand and, with a grunt, shoved the spike into the base of its neck, driving it past whatever the thing had in the place of human bones.

There was a gurgle and a spray of orange blood, and the Zfthu collapsed.

Rev scrambled to his feet, knowing that he’d just left the window unprotected. To his surprise, though, there weren’t bodies crawling in. He jumped to the opening, ready to fight, but the Zfthu had turned around and were looking away.

Rev craned his head until he saw what looked to be the hands of the gods sweeping swathes through the mass on the slopes. With his adrenaline pumping and his warrior self in full control, it took him a moment to understand what was happening.

The Charon!

The landing craft was not designed as a ground support craft, but it did have a 30mm cannon, and the big rounds defeated mortal flesh every time.

“You still with us?” Tomiko asked over the comms.

“Alive and kicking, but you were cutting it close. Keep up the fire.”

The nearest Zfthu seemed to be losing their interest in the humans in the building.

Gee, I wonder why?

Some of them were edging away, while others were in full flight as the Charon came into view, its cannon spewing death. Rev wanted to cheer.

Something crashed into Rev’s side, almost knocking him down. He’d been momentarily mesmerized by the destruction, but there were still Zfthu inside the building, and two sailors and a Zfthu had crashed into him. Rev waded in and landed a punch over one of the sailor’s shoulders, and the Zfthu went limp.

He spun around to see what was happening. Several windows still had action as Zfthu tried to enter, but at the three windows nearest Rev, where the enemy had full view of the Charon, the Zfthu had stopped trying.

“Help the others,” Rev told those nearest him.

He ran across the room, vaulting dead and wounded sailors and Zfthu. At over two hundred kilograms, Rev was a force to be reckoned with. A Zfthu was swinging a long metal instrument, holding several sailors at bay. Rev charged. His target sensed him at the last second and tried to turn to face him, but it might as well have been trying to stop a tornado. With a tackle that would have made his flipball coach proud, Rev crashed into it. The long metal blade went flying as the Zfthu almost bent in half under the impact.

The nearest sailors fell upon the barely moving Zfthu, and Rev was already looking for more targets. But the tide had turned. One of them managed to jump back out of a window, but the rest were being taken down.

There wasn’t much more he could contribute to that, so he ran back to his window to look out. The Charon was still firing, but as the Zfthu started to scatter, they were dispersing, which made the landing craft less effective. Either that or maybe the initial shock was wearing off because some of them were taking cover and firing ineffective bolts at the landing craft.

They weren’t cowards, that was for sure.

“The Charon’s running low on ammo,” Tomiko said. “And there are more of the yetis heading toward the village. We’re going to put down.”

Rev’s heart jumped at the thought of her landing in the middle of a battlefield.

“Get everyone ready to move. We’ll cover you.”

“Roger that. We’ll be ready.”

“Houta, will that door open from the inside?” he asked while he pointed at the lone entrance into the octagon.

A couple of other closer sailors tested it, then gave a thumbs-up.

“OK, then. Listen up. The QRF’s about to land and cover us, but they can’t hold off the yetis for long. We’ve got two hundred meters to cover to get to the gate. I need everyone ready. Help those who need it, and when I say go, I mean go!”

Some of the surviving sailors started to look panicked again, but most of them had determined looks on their faces. They were going to do it. One of the chiefs took charge and started organizing everyone. Rev spotted a sailor trying to lift Lieutenant Zybar, who was pale and unconscious or dead. The lieutenant’s body was limp, and she was having trouble.

Rev stepped in and hoisted Zybar to his shoulder. “I’ve got him.”

Then a thought hit him, and he went back to the open line.

“Anyone in the castle. We’re going to be running back any moment now. Make sure the dragons open the damn gate.”

No one replied, and he had visions of them reaching the gate only to be stuck outside.

“One minute,” Tomiko said.

Rev repeated that, then moved to the closest window to the door. The Zfthu weren’t giving up. Either more of them were approaching or some of those who’d run were turning back. The landing craft was coming in, its 30mm still chattering, but with most of the Zfthu taking cover, it wasn’t cutting the big swaths through them anymore.

The landing craft fired an intense barrage, clearing an LZ. The big rounds pulverized rocks and dirt—and any Zfthu using them as cover. And then there was silence, probably because it had run out of rounds.

The ramp was already lowering before it touched down, and Rev caught the gorgeous sight of PAL-clad Marines jumping to the ground.

“Go, Rev!”

“Go, go, go!” he repeated to the sailors.

Houta pushed open the door, and the sailors started out.

The door was between the building and the village. The bulk of the building blocked the view of the castle. And as soon as he saw the hesitation of the first ones to exit the building, Rev realized he or Randigold should have led. He shifted Zybar to his right shoulder, leaned out of the window, pointed, and shouted, “Up there! To the castle!”

One of the sailors ran to the nearest corner, spotted the castle, then shouted to the rest to follow him.

Back at the landing craft, which was still hovering, but with the back of the ramp on the ground, the Marines were forming a hasty defense. The last Marine debarked, and the Charon lifted.

Rev didn’t know if it was the appearance of the Marines, the liftoff of the Charon, or the fact that the sailors were making a run for the castle that triggered the Zfthu, but suddenly, they were in full assault mode again.

“Move it!” Rev shouted at his sailors. “Run!”

And then one of the sweetest sounds in the galaxy reached Rev’s ears: the report of an IBHU’s twenty-millimeter cannon.

Rev’s left arm twitched as he instinctively tried to ready Pashu, which was back up on the ship.

Most of the Marines and karnans were moving to create a protective shield for the sailors, but Tomiko, Kelly, Tsao, Cocker, Božič-Mizaki, and all of the rest of IBHU Marines, thirteen strong, had created a line and were raining death.

The Charon’s 30mm cannon had been deadly, but it wasn’t designed for antipersonnel. It was more of an area weapon in this situation. The IBHUs were made for this, though. Coupling their IBHUs with their battle buddies, the IBHU Marines were exterminators from hell, scything through the Zfthu like winter wheat.

Rev had never seen such a glorious sight in his life.

And then it was his turn to leave. He took a quick look. The only thing left in the room were Zfthu. One was trying to crawl, but the rest were never going to see another dawn.

Rev left the still-alive one alone and ran out of the door.

A few of the sailors were almost at the castle, but the gate was still closed.

“Get the damn gate open!” he shouted over his comms.

The rest of the sailors were spread out over the entire distance. Some were lagging because of wounds. Others because they were carrying the dead and wounded.

Rev’s Marines were firing both their M-51 assault rifles and M-103 grenade launchers, targeting whoever the IBHU Marines weren’t. But several stopped to help the sailors who were having problems.

More Zfthu were appearing, but the IBHUs were standing firm, an impassable barrier. Bolts were landing like raindrops, but their PALs were impervious.

Impervious to bolts, but they could be overrun by pure numbers and pried out of their combat suits.

“Start pulling back, Tomiko,” Rev ordered.

“Roger that.”

The line of IBHUs started to retreat but in good order. It sure didn’t look like they hadn’t been training.

And now their IBHUs were “talking” to each other, one Marine firing, then the next firing, and then back to the first.

Some of the Zfthu seemed to catch on to the pattern, and they tried to time their rushes, only to be cut in half by the beamers on guillotine mode.

Close to the building, Rev not only had to contend with rocks as he carried the lieutenant, but there were bodies, lots of Zfthu bodies. Most were dead, but some were still hanging on to life. As he got closer to the castle, the bodies became fewer, and he was able to speed up.

And ahead, as sailors pounded on the gate, it finally opened, and the sailors started rushing in.

Rev turned to the right, looking in the direction Punch had run. He could see some Zfthu, but not his battle buddy. He had a sinking feeling in his heart, one that he refused to acknowledge.

Punch’s diversion allowed the sailors—and him—to get into the octagon, but at what price? He could only hope that his battle buddy was still alive out there.

Rev could sprint to the gate, but there were still stragglers, and he wasn’t going to pass them. The Marines started to collapse on the sailors as they began to enter the castle. More of them were helping the slower ones.

The Charon buzzed down over his head. Rev wheeled around. Coming out of the ruined shelters were about fifty Zfthu, all obviously intent on cutting the humans off before they reached the gate. This was right in the shadow of the castle, but the Po structure was quiet. No weapons reached out to stop them.

But the Charon, even when out of ammunition, was effective. The Zfthu scattered at the landing craft’s approach, which Rev knew was just enough to give the sailors and Marines time to get inside.

And then Rev was at the gate. He passed Zybar off, then ran back out.

“That’s it, Miko. We’re all inside.”

She must have given the order because, as one, they all quit firing, wheeled around, and sprinted for the gate. A Marine in a PAL could run as fast as a racehorse, and they quickly covered the ground. There was a surge as some of the Zfthu gave chase, but it was too little, too late.

The IBHUs and Rev ran into the courtyard, and the gate whooshed to a close behind them.

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