UNIVERSAL TURBULENT

XXXIX - PLANET ELGIRON

One of Elgiron's super short nights passed into day as a line of artillery shells marched down off a low-lying hill, exploded with the same ruthless efficiency as the computer that controlled them, and hurled fountains of dirt high into the air.

Kairo waited for the barrage to end, strolled out of the CP, and nodded to a sentry. "How's it going', Hayes? Better keep your head down. Those idiots might get lucky".

Hayes laughed, just as she was supposed to, and told Corporal Ataph. He told Sergeant Muntu, and the entire battalion had the story within the hour.

"Yup", everyone agreed, "there is nothing that bothers the old man, except cold tea, and stupid orders".

None of which would have surprised Kairo, who knew that the troops took a considerable amount of comfort from such stories, and tried to keep them happy.

Major Kitty Kitty frowned as her boss riggled up next to her, produced his binoculars, and scanned the distant fort. She considered Kairo's predilection for leading from the front to be admirable, but somewhat misguided, given how important he was. However, she couldn't say that, not to his face, so she made room instead. "Welcome to the Hotel Elgiron, General. Where the days are short, the nights are cold, and the accommodation suck".

Kairo's response was lost as the fort's well-sited artillery fired another mission. The shells soared over the officers' heads, landed half a mile to the rear, and made the ground shake. The general lowered his glasses. He yelled to be heard. "So, Kitty, what do you think?"

Kitty was as different from her commanding officer as night is from day. She had been born into a prosperous merchant family, attended the academy, and graduated with honors. But, unlike some of her peers, she respected officers like Kairo. "I think they are letting the computers run the show. This latest barrage lacks the kind of finesse that a true well trained artillery officer would toss in. Stuff like backtracking, leapfrogging, and just plain guessing".

Kairo grinned. "My thoughts exactly. Assuming the red legs survived, they are locked in a cell. Some noncom is calling the shots and doing it by the book. And why not? They have intel from our spy satellites and know we won't dare fire on them. Not with all those prisoners, and not if we can avoid it. How about deserters? Have you seen any more?"

Kitty nodded. "Yes, sir. Twenty of them went over the wall about an hour ago. Half were killed in the minefield, sentries caught two of them, and the rest made it to safety. There's more than forty so far. We can thank Davide for that. He's crazy, and the mutineers know it".

Kairo shrugged. "He's got problems, but so have we".

Kitty nodded. "Yes, sir".

The voice belonged to com tech Salazar. "Dog-Six to Dog-One. Over".

Kairo touched his ear and spoke into the wire-thin boom mike. "Dog-One, go".

"We have the Navy on a long-haul push. One, maybe two ships, ETA thirty six hour standard. Over".

"Contact? Over".

"Negative, sir. Not with field stuff. The mutineers could reach them though. Over".

"Any reason to think they have? Over".

"No, sir. Over".

"Thanks, SIX. Keep me advised. Over".

A shell exploded in midair. Both officers kissed dirt as the device hurled shrapnel in every direction. The explosions rippled along the side of a hill. Two Legionnaires were killed and a third was injured. He screamed, grabbed his thigh, and started to swear. A medic arrived, slapped a self-sealing dressing on the wound, and radioed for a stretcher.

Kairo spit dirt. "They are getting better".

Kitty shrugged. "Practice, they say, makes perfect".

The general turned to the fort. "Davide needs to win, and he needs to do it now. Those ships could be loaded with mutineers, or packed with loyal troops. He's hoping for the former, but scared of the latter. Pass the word, when the barrage lifts, Davide will attack".

Kitty questioned the certainty of Kairo's prediction, wondered if something less precise might be in order, but kept her opinions to herself.

* * *

Heavily armed troops and cyborgs packed the immense parade ground. Orders were shouted as infantry units assembled, servos whined as quads picked their way through the crowd, and radio traffic crackled as Trooper IIs and IIIs took their assigned positions.

Though reasonably well organized, the revolution lacked the precision officers would have insisted on. That bothered some of the troops who knew Kairo was good and didn't want to die.

One level below, Davide ran one last check on his systems, tried to ignore the unwanted passenger, and lumbered up the ramp.

The cyborg knew Kairo could keep the mutineers bottles up inside the fort if that is what he chose to do, but didn't think he would. Partly because he was an ornery old bastard, and partly because he hoped to settle the matter before the Navy arrived, for the same reasons that Davide did.

A victory would enhance the cyborg's status of the vessels were friendly and strengthen his position at the bargaining table if it happened that they weren't. He paused at the top of the ramp.

"Let's get this show on the road. Strap the general into position, open the gates, and let's kick some a*s".

Saul had been sitting for about an hour by then, arms around his knees, ordering God to save him.

The officer struggled as the guards jerked him to his feet. They half carried, half dragged the prisoner across the parade ground. A metal cross had been welded to the front of Davide's quad. They wrestled Saul into position, tied his arms to the cross, and secured his feet to an eyebolt.

"There", Davide said callously. "Officers should lead from the front, don't you agree? Hey! This would be an excellent time to consider the nature of your relationship with Kairo. How much s**t did you heap on the poor bastard, anyhow? Enough to piss him off? What goes around comes around. Should be interesting". Saul soiled himself and started to gibber.

A cheer went up, the gates opened, and Davide marched out.