Just before the ship blew up, a dozen life boats launched from cargo bays. The scree suddenly stopped as the ship disintegrated, and O’Brien moved in on the lifeboats. It would take a while to chase them down, and the other two traders were nearing the planet.
Stven had been forced from the net, but the scree had been weak, and he recovered quickly. “Leave the lifeboats, Tom. Korban will track them and deal with them. We have to go after the other traders.”
Tom fast-shipped to the next trader, and this time he had Washburn hold his fire until they were closer. He didn’t want to give them time to launch the lifeboats, and he didn’t. The trader lasted only moments under the onslaught of Resolve’s guns, and he set out after the last trader. It was brushing the atmosphere as he approached, and this one didn’t wait to be attacked. Dozens of life boats spewed from cargo holds as Washburn’s first shots struck. The ship didn’t last long, but there were a lot of lifeboats to track down.
Stven contacted Korban. “Do you see the lifeboats?”
“We do. We’re tracking, and I’m assigning fighters to each. You might want to get out of their way.”
Tom angled Resolve away from the planet. Moments later, Tarn joined them on the net.
“Krys sees the lifeboats, and she sees something else. She’s ordered us to land at sector headquarters.”
Stven stared at him. “You can’t be serious.”
“She’s very serious. Do it, Stven.”
Stven issued orders to M’Sada, with the admonition to alert the port defenses to not shoot them down, then he left the net. Washburn was strapping a vest to Krys’ body, and he tossed another to Tarn.
“What’s going on?” Stven demanded.
“Not all the lifeboats will be destroyed, Stven,” Krys answered. “Korban himself is their target, and they’re going to reach him. We’re going to protect him.”
“You’re blind. You can’t even protect yourself.”
“Trust me, Stven. You must. I beg you.” She issued orders to Washburn and Borg. “Leave two Terran gunners on Resolve. Bring all the rest, including the cats, and bring Gordi’i and Kali’i. The gleasons will reach Korban’s outer office. As soon as we’re off, Resolve is to depart.”
Borg growled. “I refuse to let you go, My Lady.”
She turned blind eyes toward the sound of his voice. “I can see them, Borg. I see each of them in my mind. I will be your eyes.”
“I would rather the sector fell.”
“The sector will not fall, Borg. Those are my orders.”
The moment Resolve touched down, Washburn and Jacobs lifted her and hustled her toward the sector headquarters building. Tarn and Stven joined the group of six Great Cats, six Terran Protectors, and the two four-armed gunners. The port defensive guns barked as they targeted incoming life boats, but not all the lifeboats came in on high trajectories. Some came in below the minimum firing angle of the great guns, and several touched down near the sector headquarters building as they hurried to the entrance.
Imperial Marines were ready, and they engulfed each lifeboat in a continuous barrage of fire. The gleasons that made their way through it were all injured and easy to spot.
A Raider lieutenant met them at the entrance with a squad behind him. “I was told to expect you. Who are you?”
“Major Washburn, Delta Force,” Washburn answered without slowing. “Take us to Korban’s office.”
They burst into Korban’s outer office, a large open area midway along an outer wall of the top floor. Washburn’s voice thundered through the room. “Everyone down! Now!”
He turned to Krys. “What now, Krys?”
“Take me to the center of the room,” she demanded. “Give me a weapon. Follow where I aim. I cannot see you, so stay behind me, but back me up.”
Borg spoke. “Where will they enter, My Lady?”
“Everywhere. The doors and the windows.”
“How many?”
“I think… eight.”
Borg growled, and his hackles rose. He moved Krys to the center of the room, then spread his men in lines to each side of her, all facing outward. Then they waited.
“Where’s Admiral Korban?” Borg demanded.
A senior officer rose and indicated heavy doors in the wall behind Krys. “He’s in the operations center, sir.”
“Call him and tell him to stay in there with the doors locked. They should be prepared to defend themselves if we fail here. Are they armed?”
“They are, sir.”
Washburn noticed the Raider lieutenant and his squad hunkered down behind desks. “Lieutenant, I want you out of here, now.”
“Sir, we’re pretty good at this.”
“I know you are, but there are too many guns in here. We’re trained to work as a team. Get your guys out, and organize a medical response. We’re going to need it. Move, soldier.”
The building shook, then shook again. “They’re on the roof,” Krys said calmly. “I will fire as soon as I sense them entering. Follow my lead.”
“Sound off,” Borg called out. Each of the Protectors responded with his assigned number. “Pair off,” Borg ordered. “One and two follow her first shot, three and four follow her second shot. We’ll all deal with the remainder of the gleasons as we can. Remember, when seriously wounded, the gleasons will lose their ability to blend with the background, but the creatures are very hard to kill.”
Krys turned suddenly toward a window to her left and opened fire. Two Protectors opened fire toward the window, following her aim. Moments later a shadow filled the window. It fell into the room, its dark green body hideously wounded.
The Protectors continued to fire at it as Krys turned toward a corridor entrance on her right. She fired again, and backup fire wounded the gleason, but it didn’t stop moving. She didn’t know, and the Protectors kept up a continuous barrage toward the creature.
She turned and fired again, straight ahead, then again to the left, standing straight up so as not to hit her own men whom she could not see. Another gleason came through the corridor entrance to her right at the same moment another came through a window directly in front of her. She loosed two shots at the first gleason, but was late shifting to the second. Borg saw the window shatter and pushed her to the floor as he leaped in front of her, firing continuously. Tarn fell on her to protect her. Borg wounded the creature, but it closed the distance instantly and was upon him. Borg grabbed the gleason’s head as it forced both of them to the floor, and his great hands twisted mightily, killing the creature.
Stven saw the another window shatter, but the gleason was invisible. He didn’t think, he just gave way to his instincts. He sucked in a breath, then a great flame issued from his nostrils as he swept his head around the room above everyone’s head. The flames caught the gleason, and Stven leaped toward it. As the flames guttered out, he grabbed the gleason, his sharp claws digging deep into its body. He and the gleason disappeared out the window.
Blasters continued barking for a few seconds, then stopped. Washburn leaped to Krys and pulled Tarn from atop her. “Are there any more?” he demanded.
She considered, then shook her head. “No more.”
“Clear!” Washburn yelled, “but stay ready. She might have missed some.” His eyes surveyed the room, but it took a while for the heavy smoke from Stven to thin. Borg rose weakly to his feet, bleeding profusely from great gashes along his body, then collapsed.
“Jacobs!” Washburn yelled.
Jacobs took one look at Borg and called two Great Cats to his side. “Direct pressure, wrap him tightly, but not so tightly he can’t breathe.” He tossed packages of bandages and gauze to the two cats, then turned to Tarn. Rib bones protruded through a gash in his back. Scissors appeared in Jacobs’ hand, and he quickly cut the uniform away.
He looked up at Washburn. “Not good, sir. It’s deep. He’s bleeding heavily inside. It probably got his liver and a kidney, and certainly a lung. He’s going to drown in his own blood. I can’t stop it. He needs immediate surgery.” He reached into his pack for an airway, but he knew it wouldn’t do any good.