Kris jammed a new magazine into her now cleared rocket launcher, then stood, trying to hold the tube in a non-threatening manner, but at the ready. Beside her, Jack and Meg were doing their best to do the same.
The tank ground to a halt. Its turret stayed aimed at the burning wreckage before it. Kris tried to believe that was a good sign. Then the hatch atop the turret creaked open and an Iteeche appeared.
“That you, Ron?” Kris called, not quite able to make out her friend without some of his robes showing.
“It’s me. My Chooser’s household guards took their time, but they are here.”
Ron got his head up higher and Kris could now make out his official court dress, if a bit wrinkled. “There’s a troop transport back there. Get in. We’ve got a deadline to meet, and I do mean dead line.”
Kris and her team trotted to the open back door of an eight-wheeled armored box and were quickly invited inside by a house guardsman in full body armor. Settling in place, Kris smiled at the Iteeches across from her while she thought furiously.
NELLY, WHAT’S OUR SITUATION?
AMAZINGLY IMPROVED, KRIS, came with a vision of a map of the blocks around Kris’s vehicle. Yep, there were tanks and infantry deployed on every street corner. Here and there, other tanks burned furiously, but nothing new blew up.
YOU THINK WE WERE PLAYED? Jack asked.
ONE COULD WONDER HOW THE CALVARY MANAGED TO ARRIVE JUST IN THE NICK OF TIME, Kris agreed. WE KNOW WE’VE BEEN DROPPED DOWN IN THE BIG MIDDLE OF A CIVIL WAR WITHOUT A PROGRAM TO TELL THE PLAYERS, MUCH LESS TO FIGURE OUT WHAT OUR BEST MOVE IS. LATER, I’LL THROTTLE RON. FOR NOW, LET’S JUST ENJOY BEING ALIVE.
Jack scowled, but said nothing. He did fold his arms and stare at the overhead.
The inside of a track was no place for a serious conversation, not even if one wasn’t surrounded by strangers and who knew how many recording devices.
NELLY, HOW BAD ARE OUR LOSSES? DO WE HAVE ANYONE HANDLING OUR CASUALTIES?
GUNNY HAS A CALL INTO CAPTAIN MOORE. HE’S GOT PERMISSION FROM THE ITEECHE GUARDS AT THE PIER TO BRING AN EMERGENCY SERVICES TEAM DOWN HERE PRONTO. STILL, IT WILL TAKE A GOOD HOUR BEFORE THEY GET HERE. THERE ARE SOME ITEECHE FIRST RESPONDERS ON THE SCENE. OUR MEDICS ARE GETTING SOME HELP FROM THEM, BUT THEY DON’T HAVE BLOOD OR ANY OF THE SUPPLIES WE NEED MORE OF.
“Damn,” was all Kris could say or do about any of this. Yes, her team had deployed with med techs, but they hadn’t expected a street fight.
“Next time we’re invited down here, Jack, I want a full battalion, reinforced with a heavy weapons company and a battalion aid station,” Kris had to shout to be heard.
“Duly logged and annotated,” he answered through tight lips.
The map in Kris’s head showed their convoy speeding down the boulevard with tanks and other tracks joining in ahead or falling behind as they passed cross streets. On the next two boulevards over, more tanks ground along, protecting their flank.
Kris could only fume. Why didn’t we have this level of protection before? Who was using us for bait and what were they out to catch?
Using my neck!
The column rolled up to a bridge across a wet moat. A grey stone curtain wall built of massive stones rose up on the far bank of the moat. A ponderous gate with many towers led into a wonderland of ponds and gardens. A huge stone building rose at least two klicks away.
Kris’s armored personal carrier squealed to a halt and the rear doors opened on hinges that hadn’t been oiled in recent memory. The sun streamed in, leaving Kris blinking against the light.
“There, that wasn’t all that much trouble, now was it?” a beaming Ron said, standing out in the sun, his court raiment now iridescent in the natural sunlight.
“Your cavalry could have timed their arrival a bit better,” Kris allowed herself to grouse.
“But where would be all the fun in it if they weren’t arriving just when all hope seemed lost?”
“Someday, when we have more time, you must tell me just what sort of smart ass game you and your chooser were playing with my fair neck.”
Two house guards in green and grey almost dropped their rifles as Nelly translated this exchange, but they kept their eyes front. All eight of them.
From a truck, Kris’s porters were unloading her and Jack’s sedan chairs. They quickly got themselves back in harness and trotted over to where Kris and Jack awaited them.
“Lieutenant Longknife, you stay here. Have everyone report to you as if you were my chief of staff. I want to know what’s been done about our wounded the moment I get back here.
“Yes, Admiral,” Megan said, saluting.
Kris straightened the jacket of her dress blues and tried to work out some of the wrinkles as she dusted it off a bit. It still looked like she’d crawled her way across a dusty road.
“You won’t be going into His Worshipful’s presence looking like that,” was not a question from Ron.
“Is there time to get my uniform dry cleaned?”
“No, and we are in grave danger of being late as it is. My chooser has already gone ahead to assure that he does not offend The Worshipful One.”
Giving a strong hint that Ron and Kris, or maybe just Kris, was expendable if off schedule.
“Nelly, can you get nanos to dust me off?”
“Yes, Kris. We’ll take out the creases, too. And you don’t have to just stand here while I’m doing it.”
Kris waved for her sedan chair. Even as she was boarding it, she could hear the soft hum of nanos and see as her dress blues and fruit salad lost their wrinkles and dull brown overtone.