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seconds and you’d tell ’em everything they needed to know at one.

The two extra seconds was to make sure you thought real good and hard about lying even just a little.

As one guy I knew who’d had some firsthand experience with the cyber-rack put it, “It’s forever in there.”

Still, without saying a word as the Old Man smoked and watched us with his faded old blue eyes, scar, and iron-gray hair, daring us to walk away from the company, he was at least giving us that chance.

“Second problem is the Spider, as you all know. Besides not being jump-capable at this time, she’s also not atmo-capable. XO thinks he can get in close enough to do a high-altitude sub-orbital transfer if we can get up there. As you can see…”

He gave a brief nod toward the assault troops, thousands of them still raining down planetside from the behemoth above our heads.

“… these drops would be shot down if we even tried. So here’s our plan. First Sergeant has commandeered supplies and transport here at the depot. Draw immediately after this briefing. We roll in thirty minutes. Full convoy to the refueling station at Plethy. Hard takeover and we top off on energy cells. Then we break up into teams and take different routes out into the Crash Wastes. Our destination is Lost Road. It’s not marked on any map. Our new employer will be downloading maps to the platoon sergeant after this briefing.”

A few muttered at the news of a new employer. Most of the rest just exchanged glances. A few of us were too dead tired to do anything.

“Yes, the company has fortunately received a new contract offer as developments have taken a new turn in the last three hours.”

Did he emphasize the word fortunately?

That’s unlike him. He’s so dry. He doesn’t even do sarcasm.

Strange times makes strange things happen. Even the Old Man is not immune.

He didn’t say anything like, “Hey, and now I’m gonna be honest with you,” or anything like that. Wasn’t his way. If he said something it was the truth. If he didn’t say anything, I’d learned that’s when you needed to be worried.

“Our new employer is a Monarch. She calls herself the Seeker.”

A few murmured.

No one I knew had ever even seen a Monarch face to face. It just wasn’t done. They didn’t do that.

“She has a plan for us to get our owed mem out of our employers, provide her a service, and get off-world to at least effect a sub-orbital rendezvous with our ship.”

He looked around, inhaled what was left of his cigarette, and flicked it at the ground, watching the ember burn for a second before he crushed it out with his combat boot.

“This is dangerous. If you want to take your chances with the Monarchs, there’s supposedly a refugee collection point that’s taking combatants, no questions asked. And I think there’s a high-chance probability a lot of us are going to get killed trying to stay Strange Company and get off-world in the middle of an Ultra invasion. That just doesn’t happen. But when I took command, I swore on John Strange’s name I’d keep the company together. So, I gotta do that. Even if I do it alone.”

Then he turned and walked around the First Sergeant’s vehicle, heading into the darkness of the supply depot that was like a dark open mouth waiting for a meal.

The First Sergeant stepped forward and someone must have asked, “Where is this Seeker?”

“Over there, boys,” he said, not grandly. But big in his own way. I, and I guess the rest of us, followed his gaze. Over to the dropships. The gorgeous flight leader, tall like an uber model for some mem zillionaire, still in her flight suit and holding her helmet with one hand, was handing out devices, payment devices to the remaining Valkyries. Pilots, door gunners, crew chiefs.

Then she turned and began to walk toward us after picking up a little wicked submachine gun and a ruck, and throwing her flight helmet off into the mud and light rain.

I was not alone in thinking she was the most beautiful woman that ever was.

Chapter Twenty-Six

The briefing broke up as most went back to what remained of their platoons to explain how bad the situation really was. Slick, the Ghost platoon sergeant, stood there with me exchanging meaningful information. Ghost had taken only one KIA. Soops. I’ll get to his story later if there’s time.

“Good scout,” said Slick as we finished our smokes, watching as the First Sergeant had his men start directing Hannibal’s Dogs toward the supplies he’d laid out for them. Then he had Amarcus, my personal villain, in tow and was headed straight for us.

“Boys,” he began grandly to his three platoon sergeants. Voodoo didn’t have a sergeant. No one knew how the hell Voodoo ran. We only knew it did. Mostly. “This is where things are gonna get real improvisational. That Monarch jazz ain’t gonna sit well, and you might want to brace everyone. She just signed the auto doc to join the company. She’s in, and that was part of the whole messed-up deal. But the only way I can see us gettin’ paid and gettin’ ourselves the hell outta here and clear of this mess is just to go ahead and let it happen. Captain ain’t sayin’ nothin’ but I don’t think he likes it none too much either. I ain’t gonna ask any of you if you got a problem with it because as far as Top is concerned you don’t. Got me, boys?”

We got the First Sergeant.

Then he looked at me.

“Sar’nt Orion. You got her. She didn’t want Voodoo and Stinkeye’s already threatening to desert. There’s gonna be trouble between them two. So she’s with you, and she’s running our operation once we reach Lost Road out in the Wastes. Reaper’s tip of the spear on this exit.”

That’s… great.

“Copy, First Sergeant.”

I watched Amarcus smirk, his wicked scar telegraphing his amused contempt. He shrugged his

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