Free Legion Of The Damned - 06 - For Those Who Fell by William C. Dietz

hoarse, that it resembled a growl. “What can you tell me about those frigging ships? My battalion includes cyborgs as well as bio bods. . . Do both ships have the necessary life-support systems?”
    Yantz frowned, used a silver stylus to tap a series of comp keys, and peered at the data that morphed onto the screen. “It looks like the Natu has racks for 150 brain boxes—but the Sun doesn’t have any. It shouldn’t matter, though . . . we’ll put all of your borgs on the Nat .”
    â€œThe hell you will,” Kobbi said thickly. “Think about it . . . If the ship carrying the brain boxes is destroyed—the war forms on the other vessel will be frigging useless! The boxes have to be split in two so that each cyborg is on the same vessel with his or her body. Need I remind you that this mission has a Nova class priority?”
    â€œSorry, old boy,” Yantz replied smugly. “Mission priority doesn’t matter . . . It just isn’t on. You can take what we have or walk to Savas. The choice is up to you.”
    Kobbi started to come up out of his chair but hesitated when Ibo placed a hand on his arm. “As you were, Colonel.”
    â€œCaptain, I can’t say that I think much of your attitude, something I intend to make clear to Admiral Sato. In the meantime make whatever arrangements are necessary to board Colonel Kobbi’s battalion in three days’ time.
    â€œOh, and one more thing, you will either find some sort of believable escort for the transports, or I will remove this comet from my collar and personally kick your chair-bound ass. Do I make myself clear?”
    Yantz was an expert at bureaucratic warfare, but didn’t relish the prospect of an actual fight with the tough-looking general, even though he outweighed her by a good thirty pounds. The naval officer rose from the table and reached for his hat. “That won’t be necessary, General. I’ll see what I can do.”
    The legionnaires waited for Yantz to leave, looked at each other, and grinned. “I would pay good money to see you kick his ass,” Kobbi said.
    â€œIt would be hard to miss,” Ibo growled, “but I won’t get the chance. He’ll come up with some sort of escort. But what about the brain boxes? You could leave them in their war forms.”
    â€œYeah,” Kobbi agreed, “I could. But it’s a three-week trip. Each borg would be buried in a hold—and locked up with his or her own personal devils. Half of them are convicted murderers—so who knows what would happen if they were isolated for a prolonged period of time? I’ll put most of them in the racks and take my chances. We can put a few in spider forms and put them aboard the second ship. It sucks—but it’s the best I can do.”
    â€œYes,” Ibo agreed soberly. “Well, odds are that both ships will make it through, and everything will be fine.”
    Kobbi nodded, and even managed a smile; but there was an empty place in his gut, and the battalion commander wished he could find something that would fill it.
    Â 
    The boxy eight-by-eight paused just long enough for Sergeant “Dice” Dietrich and Private Suresee Fareye to hop off the tailgate before it lunged forward and growled into a higher gear. Dietrich waved his thanks to the truck’s rearview mirror, took a scrap of paper out of his pocket, and was about to examine it when Fareye spoke. “It’s over there, Sarge, next to the water tank.”
    Dietrich put the piece of paper away. “All right then—let’s see if the loot is home.”
    Though unarmed, the legionnaires advanced the way they would have on LaNor. Together, yet separated by enough space that a single burst of machine-gun fire wouldn’t kill both of them, eyes scanning the area for danger. Not because they expected trouble on Adobe, but because they expected trouble