UNIVERSAL TURBULENT

XL - PLANET ELGIRON

Kairo, his elbows resting on the quickly melting snow, watched the quad appear. Not just any quad, but one with monster features, and a cross welded to its bow. Kairo felt a sudden emptiness in the pit of his stomach.

The officer increased the magnification, and the unrecognizable blob leapt into focus. There was no mistaking the staring eyes, the contorted face, or the horribly bared teeth. It was Saul.

Kairo felt an irritating surge of anger. Damn the miserable sonofabitch to hell! Damn him for allowing such a thing to happen, damn him for staying alive, and damn him for putting me in this position!

Kitty nudged his arm. "The man on the cross, did you see who it is?"

Kairo answered without lowering his binoculars. "Yes, he's hard to miss".

"So what should we do?"

The word seemed to hang there as Kairo considered his options. One solution was to ignore Saul, attack, and let the chips fall where they may.

But what if their positions were reversed? What if it were he on the cross? Or an officer that he liked and respected? What then?

And what about the troops? How would they view Saul's death? As an understandable sacrifice? Or the act of a commander so ruthless he couldn't be trusted?

Surely some of them felt sympathy for the mutineers, would be mutineers if given the chance, and might turn on him.

There was movement in front of Davide's quad. Nothing much, but strange nonetheless. Kairo raised a hand. "Hold, what's going on our there? Do we have an observer that far forward?"

Kitty got ready to say no, looked through her glasses, and saw riders emerge from a gully. There were two of them, both humans. One led the other. Major Dooley and Clark Mayweather! The older woman turned, met Kitty's gaze, and smiled. The salute was parade ground perfect. Her husband, face toward the enemy, sat straight and tall.

Davide spotted the interlops, swung his Gatling g*n in their direction, and prepared to fire.

Kairo saw the movement and yelled into his mike. "What the hell are they doing? Get them out of there!"

Kitty shook her head sadly. "Too late for that, sir. Davide had a lock".

Kairo knew his XO was correct, swore as Mayweather drew the long-barreled pistol, and knew what she would do. They had been officers themselves, understood his dilemma, and were determined to help.

Mayweather took one last look at her husband, at the towers of Elgiron, and the planet she called home. There was no time to inhale the cold, clean air, marvel at what life had given, and say goodbye to her son.

The pistol shots were flat and dull. General Saul jerked under the impact, fell forward, and hung from his wrists. The battle had started.

The Gatling g*n opened fire. A hail of metal tore the riders and their mounts to b****y shreds. Cheered by Davide's victory, and encouraged by their noncoms, the mutineers continued to advance.

A lump formed in Kairo's throat. He turned to Kitty. "Kill the bastards. Kill every damned one of them".

Kitty nodded, gave the necessary orders, and watched her armor move out onto the killing ground. Static roared as both sides initiated electronic countermeasures, energy canons burped coherent light, and missiles flashed from launcher to target.

A quad exploded, a Trooper II somersault through the air, and one of the personnel carriers veered into a ravine. Legionnaires piled out, found some cover, and set their mortars.

The fight was far from one-sided, however, as Davide led his troops forward, killed a Trooper III, and massacred its analogs. Artillery, firing from within the fort, dropped a curtain of steel behind the loyalist forces.

Kairo watched the bloodshed and knew the terrible truth: No matter who won the battle, the legion would lose.

* * *

It was warm within the cyborg's metal belly, very warm, and Coaster wiped the sweat off her brow. Davide had cut the air-conditioning half an hour before. The heat had slowed her work and forced the legionnaire to rest.

She braced herself against the cyborg's movement and watched the monitors above her head. Naa Town passed to either side, and riders appeared ahead. One of them fired a pistol. Both ceased to exist as the Gatling g*n growled and the hull shook.

The brutality of the action was like a bucket of cold water. The technician came off the bench, grabbed the power drill, and resumed her work.

The motor produced a high-speed whine as the bit chewed its way down through quarter-inch steel plate. The metal was thin compared to the external armor, but thick enough for her.

Coaster struggled to keep her balance as silver shavings curled up and away from the fourth hole. The bit surged as it broke through into the space beyond. Fifty caliber slugs hammered the hull and made it ring.

The battle was under way, the technician knew that, but she couldn't take the time to look. She was close, extremely close, and seconds were critical.

Coaster released the drill, fumbled for the saw, and got a grip on the handle. "All I got to do is connect the dots", she thought to Davide, "and your a*s is mine".

The saw screamed as the blade ate through metal. It was sharp, and the cut went quickly. The technician hit hole number two, turned the corner, and went for three. She bit her lip. Would Davide notice? And what would happen if he did? There was no way to tell.

The blade entered hole number three and turned toward four. That was when the saw nicked the protective mesh that protected the cyborg's brain, an alarm went off, and Davide took notice. He fired-on a missile battery and spoke through internal speakers at the same time.

"Okay, Coaster. You win. Drop the ramp and go".

The legionnaire laughed as she lifted the newly created panel out of its hole. She could see the brain box through a layer of metal lace. "Sure, you would like that. How far would I get? Thirty feet? Dream on, asshole".

"No", Davide insisted. "Go, I promise not to hurt you".

Coaster glanced at the monitors and heard a piece of shrapnel clang as it hit the hull. She wouldn't get very far even if he did honor his promise. The technician felt for the drill and found it. "Tell you what, s**t-for-brians. If you hold your fire, and if your friends do likewise, I'll cut you some slack. Keep on fighting, and I'm going to sink a drill bit into what's left of your brain. You have ten seconds to decide. Nine... eight... seven..."

"Okay!" The cyborg exclaimed. "You win. I'll issue the order".

Many of the mutineers were happy to quit, figuring any punishment they pulled would be better than life under Davide, but some were less cooperative. They took some convincing. The news that the Navy ships were not only loyal to the Confederacy, but prepared to attack from orbit, settled any remaining doubts.

It was only then, after the cyborg had lowered his ramp, that Coaster remembered how cold it was, and remembered her pants. They were dry by that time, and the smell didn't matter at all.