Cheloi couldn't believe the depth of affection she had developed for her adjutant, which was another sign she was long past retiring from her career. There was an insane desire to blurt out who she was and why he must get as far away from the Nineteen as possible, because she was about to turn HQ into a fission device just waiting to detonate. She even opened her mouth to say something, anything, but common sense kept her mute.

"I wouldn't want to begrudge Koul his moment of glory at the centre of operations," she finally told him.

"Then don't begrudge me mine either, Colonel. If I have served you well these past years, then please allow me that moment too."

Clenching her jaw, Cheloi turned away and continued walking, her boots crunching rhythmically on the gravel strewn ground.

"Have you heard from your family recently?" she asked, when she once more felt she had control over her voice. "Your sister will be getting married soon, won't she?"

"Next month. If Rep Kodnell is right about the transport blackout only lasting a month, I hope to be there in time for her wedding. That is, if you'd approve some extended leave for me."

"You deserve at least that, Rumis. If not more." Her voice was heartfelt.

"I'll hold you to that, Colonel, once this offensive is over."

They lapsed into companionable silence and Cheloi only stopped when they reached the western edge of the camp, just below the lowest point of the mountain's encircling rim.

"Tomorrow will be another busy day, Rumis, and I'm sure I've already missed several critical despatches from our sector commanders. Could you do me a favour?"

"Yes, Colonel." Anything.

"Go back to the tactical room and summarise the most urgent of those pleas, and send them to my office when you're done. Then you had better get some sleep. II think I'll walk for a bit longer."

"As you wish, Senior Colonel."

Cheloi heard his brisk steps as he strode away, receding into the night. Cheloi left the path and scrambled ten metres up the inner slope of the mountain's rim. She knew the terrain of the camp intimately and had chosen the spot carefully.

When she turned and looked back from the narrow ledge she had climbed onto, the camp was spread out in front of her in all its camouflaged glory. She knew which set of boulders const.i.tuted the entrance to the canteen and laundry sections and which tree marked the officers' entry. She knew where the exits were and the most probable hole Rumis used to disappear into the underground complex.

With the local battalions deployed elsewhere, she knew there were only enough details to watch outwards from the rim, not inwards. Anybody observing her from below would think the territory's commander was merely taking a break, pondering the resources available, glorying in the obvious superiority of the Perlim, perhaps even gaining inner strength from the sight of its expansiveness coc.o.o.ned safely within the embrace of a collapsed mountain-top.

Cheloi snapped her 'scope down to make sure n.o.body was aboveground who shouldn't have been, then knelt, ostensibly to adjust the hem of her trousers. She had already slipped into the defence junction room a few hours ago and flicked a small switch, turning off low-level error reporting. Now she had to execute the second part of her ploy. Scrubby weeds hid her fingers as she pried open the cover of one of the mute-shield projectors that dotted the inner slope at regular intervals.

Each projector had a backup unit and, together with all the other projectors, they formed the dome-shaped mute-shield that kept HQ secure. Should one of them fail, a crack would appear in the blanketing shield, enabling any scanning rebel sensors to find them. With quick movements, Cheloi snapped the major and backup relays and replaced the cover.

Then, standing once more, she brushed her hands on her trousers and headed back down the slope.

Day 1,575 of the War: The rocking of an explosion woke her early the next morning.

f.u.c.k, that was fast!

Cheloi was up and dressed in minutes, sprinting down the corridor to the Tactical Room while she b.u.t.toned her tunic.

"What's happening?" she demanded as she skidded through the door.

"Our perimeter's been breached," Rumis told her tersely. "The shield is down. We don't know how."

At the other end of the room, Koul was shouting orders into a comms unit, his voice loud but steady. Another explosion shuddered through the complex and a shower of sand fell on the equipment consoles. Impervious, the projection in the room continued to revolve.

"Attack is mostly by artillery but one of our watchtowers notes a break-in by a small band along the western side of the camp."

Hand-to-hand combat in the middle of an artillery's target zone? Cheloi stared at Rumis. Their attackers were insane as well as committed. But something like this was just what she was expecting and she didn't have time to ponder rebel tactics at the moment.

"Who's the closest to us?" she asked.

Rumis would have the answer at his fingertips and he did. Her respect for him, calm even under direct attack, increased. "Colonel Pish has three platoons within twenty minutes' skimmer range."

"Koul," she shouted above the occasional percussive thump. "Contact Pish. Get him to divert one, or more if he can spare them, of his platoons here as soon as possible. Tell him we have a small incursion and are under artillery fire. I'm going to check the communications junction for signs of sabotage." She lowered her voice. "Rumis, get the backups going. Re-establish that shield perimeter as quickly as possible. Manufacture one of those b.l.o.o.d.y units yourself if necessary, but get it going."

Both Rumis and Koul nodded quickly as Cheloi left the room. The explosions became more frequent. Even through the earth, Cheloi felt the thuds of their answering weaponry vibrating through the ground. She headed for the junction room in a hurry, yelling at soldiers to get armed and get out of the way as she ran.

She reached the room in question and punched in her access code, steadying herself against the rough wall as the heavy door slid open and another tremor shook the ground. There was n.o.body inside. There shouldn't have been. Quickly, she locked the door behind her. The equipment stored here, bank upon bank of slim tall boxes of electronic wizardry blinking green and blue, was supposedly fail-safe.

Cheloi switched on the illumination and started scanning the metal cases. Somewhere, there should be...yes, there they were. The external communications units. She unclipped the side of the unit and swung open the front hinged cover. Three thick bundles of cables, gleaming silver in the light, snaked through the case's interior, edging aside narrower tubes of white light. She didn't know what any of the cables did but, then again, she didn't have to.

Stepping back, Cheloi pulled her blaster out in one smooth movement and fired it into the centre of the box. Sparks rocketed out for a second, and she put her hand up in front of her face to protect herself from the glare and incendiary flashes. Loud pops and sizzles filled the air.

"I think we should-what the h.e.l.l do you think you're doing?!"

She spun around. And confronted Koul in the open doorway. Of course, he would have the access codes. And a good dose of bad timing.

He looked stunned as if even he, filled with loathing for her, couldn't believe what he saw. There was a moment of frozen disbelief before his training kicked in. With a snarl, he surged forward, knocked the blaster from her hand and threw her up against the banks of equipment. Cheloi's head hit the metal and she saw stars dance in front of her eyes.

"You b.i.t.c.h," he growled. "What the f.u.c.k do you think you're doing?"

"Koul I can explain," she gasped, as his hands grabbed her collar and started to twist.

But she knew she couldn't talk herself out of this one. Koul was going to kill her and, this time, he was going to do it himself.

Another explosion rocked them both and Cheloi took advantage of the momentary instability and the slight easing of his grip to deliver a short vicious uppercut to his ribcage. He spluttered and let go of her completely and Cheloi angled her right hand up, past his head before chopping across his face with a downward blow. The force of it sent him to his knees. As he reached for his own blaster, Cheloi stepped up. Grabbing his head with both fists, she kneed him in the face.

That should have been enough for anyone but Koul was tougher than he looked. Wavering but conscious, kneeling and steadying himself with one hand on the ground, he shook his head.

"Koul, you b.a.s.t.a.r.d," she muttered, "why won't you stay down?"

She grabbed two handfuls of his hair, preparing for another strike, but he moved before she did. As the complex rocked and showered them with more fine sand, he jerked forward and to his feet, head b.u.t.ting her in the chin and sending her bouncing against the cases before crashing to the floor.

"You traitorous b.i.t.c.h," he hissed, as he crawled on top of her. "I should have killed you the moment I first saw you."

Koul was a heavy weight pinning her down and Cheloi knew she couldn't get in a good enough hit, not one with enough momentum to shift him. His legs had also pinned hers, effectively stopping her from kneeing him.

"Koul"

She couldn't see him properly. The room's bright illumination, directly above her head, hurt her eyes. In desperation, her right hand scrabbled around for something-sand, a piece of wire, anything. Her hand curled around the barrel of a blaster. She didn't have time to turn it over, so she used it to hit the side of his face as hard as she could.

He flinched and she used the split-second of freedom to bring her knees up and half-shove, then kick, him off her.

"You don't know when to quit, do you?" she asked, scrambling to her feet. She took her eyes off him for only a split-second, to flip the blaster in the air and catch it again, this time by the grip. She didn't have time to do any fancy sighting and the weapon in her hand gave her only a split-second's advantage. She took it, aiming quickly at his body and let off a shot.

Koul, halfway to his feet, collapsed to the ground, landing hard on his knees. The smell of burnt flesh filled the small equipment room. He wasn't dead. Without a proper aim, she had only managed to drill through his shoulder. Disbelieving, his eyes wide, he looked down at his shoulder then up at her.

With cold eyes, Cheloi checked the blaster settings, eyed down the barrel, met his gaze, and shot him again. This time, when Koul hit the floor, he didn't get up.

With a muttered oath, Cheloi turned her back on his still-warm body. She flung open the doors of the other cases and started methodically firing into each one. When she was done, she was panting from an exertion that had little to do with physical effort.

It wasn't necessary, but she couldn't resist one more effort to muddy the waters. With a grim smile, she put the blaster in Koul's dead hand, not yet stiff and cold, holstered her own, and hit the b.u.t.ton on the side of the wall.

The door slid open again to a cacophony of sound. The emergency lights screwed into the ceiling flashed yellow and a klaxon blared down the corridors. The whole complex was on emergency power. Above it all, she heard Rumis' voice over the loudspeakers.

"The complex is about to collapse. Evacuate immediately. I repeat, the complex is about to collapse."

She took off for the Tactical Room, finding three junior officers and Rumis still in there. The relief on her adjutant's face was palpable when he looked up and saw her. The far part of the room had already caved in, and the apparatus projecting the holographic map was hanging from several cables, dangling precariously above their heads.

"What's the situation?" She couldn't help but ask the question.

"All communications have been cut. All power is down. I'm sorry, Colonel, but I was unable to re-establish the perimeter. There are rebel reinforcements coming through from the west . We don't have enough soldiers to man all the defensive cannons and most of the armaments are pointing the wrong way. The teams are trying to target rebel artillery positions but the enemy is highly mobile. We're being overrun."

Amid the dust and noise, Cheloi's thoughts were crystal-clear. It was time to leave. And it was time to take Rumis with her. She would knock him unconscious if need be, but she was not leaving him to face the wrath of the Empire. Especially not when Koul, the next obvious scapegoat, was dead.

"Let's go." She raised her voice. "All of you. Get out of here."

"Colonel-"

"That means you too, Rumis. You're still with me. Let's go."

He hesitated, looking for a moment as if he would like to disagree then, with a tightening of his lips, he dropped the comms equipment he still held in his hand and moved towards her, shepherding the others out before him. Cheloi waited for him.

"Did Colonel Grakal-Ski find you?" Rumis asked her as they jogged toward the eastern exit.

"Yes he did. He's concentrating on something else at the moment."

There was a heavy whoosh and part of the corridor collapsed behind them, sending a rush of dust and air swirling through the tunnel.

"We go south-east. Rumis-"

"How did they break through?" he asked aloud. "How did they even find us?"

Cheloi decided not to answer.

They drew their weapons as they exited the complex and took a quick look around. Already the slightly uneven ground was riven with collapsed tunnels that both the Perlim forces and the rebels were using as trenches to hide in.

Cheloi stared towards the east, spotting the ledge halfway up the slope. That was where she, Rumis and Lith had conducted that first evening talk so many weeks ago. The s.p.a.ce had its own mute bubble, which might offer a little protection from rebel scanners. If they could get there, they might stand a chance of surviving this. And the path up to that bubble was better camouflaged than most, meandering behind trees and clumps of long gra.s.s.

She pulled him along with her till they gained the cover of some boulders.

"Rumis, we've got to get to the eastern mute bubble."

"Mute bubble?" He peered around the rocks. "What about the rebels? We should be fighting them."

"It's too late. We've lost."

He looked at her then and frowned. "Lost?"

She shook her head. "Now's not the time to explain. We both need to get out of here. I've arranged for transport."

"But the landing pad is by the northern end and the rebels have already swarmed that position."

"I don't mean regular transport, Rumis." She tugged at his sleeve. "Come on, we've got to get moving."

Cheloi's plan was clear. The moment they cleared the mute bubble, she'd activate the transponder in her wrist. In the three or so minutes of relative peace between the signal and the arrival of the ship, she would explain to Rumis the realities of the situation. If he agreed with her, all well and good. If he didn't, she would stun him and take him to safety unconscious. Whichever way it turned out, he was coming with her.

The shooting in the caldera was as crazed as in any battle situation throughout known s.p.a.ce and Cheloi kept her head down as she headed for her goal. Rumis tagged dutifully behind her. She knew she was in as much danger of being shot by a Perlim soldier as by a rebel. There were screams of agony, sounds of rocks and trees exploding and strangled cries for help, swiftly silenced. When they finally reached the escarpment, Cheloi gritted her teeth and started climbing. Her progress would have been quicker but she had to stop every now and then to pull her reluctant adjutant along with her. They didn't speak, concentrating instead on staying hidden.

After five long minutes, she dared a look up the slope and was gratified to see they were almost halfway to the ledge. Not long now.

"Colonel...."

It was nothing more than a strangled cry.

They had just moved behind a stand of tall spiky gra.s.s when Cheloi looked back.

The fierce look of cajoling she had plastered on her face faded away, smoothed into slack-jawed horror as her eyes refused to take in what they saw.

"No," she breathed, her eyes wide.

"...I....".

"NO!".

She screamed, uncaring of how far her voice carried. The sounds of battle, the cries of people, faded into oblivion. All Cheloi heard was the erratic thumping of her heart in her ears as she carelessly slid the two steps down to Rumis, sending a shower of dust down the slope.

He was lying on the baking earth, a wide black gash cut across his entire body, the centre a sticky bluish red with his oozing blood. The cut was so deep she could see into his body, to the purple sheen of his organs as they rose and fell in a bath of his own fluids. She put her blaster down and swallowed, helpless. There was no temp-suture that could fix this, even if she had thought to bring a basic medkit with her.

She lifted her hands. Made a move. Towards what? Bringing the torn edges of skin together with her fingers? Cupping the blood that spilt down the sides of his body and emptying it back into his body in some grotesque parody of bailing out a boat? She had seen the dying before, but never face-to-face with someone she...loved. She swallowed convulsively, her gaze darting all over his body and the surrounding ground, but there was nothing she could do.

With shaking hands and a shuddering breath, she smoothed back the hair from his forehead, tears forming in her eyes. With her other hand, she groped for his, holding it in a tight and trembling grip. He squeezed her fingers, and she swore she could already feel them get cold.

"Rumis," she whispered through bloodless lips.

"Will we prevail?" he asked in a choked whisper as his body started shaking. She knew he was going into shock.

She met his cloudy brown gaze as openly as she could. "Good will come of this, Rumis," she told him. "Believe me."

He nodded once and looked like he wanted to say more. He licked his lips....

His mouth was still open when he died. She knew he wanted to relay a message to his family but it expired with him. His grip slackened and his eyes lost that bright spark of life that she had cherished so much. He was reduced to a piece of meat, staring sightlessly up into the pale hot sky.

Cheloi swallowed again as tears streamed down her face. With a sob, she grabbed blindly for her blaster and continued up the slope, scrabbling and slipping as she choked in clouds of dusty air, oblivious to the continuing carnage around her. The sounds of immediate battle were trapped distantly at the end of a long tunnel, too far away to touch her.