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Seventy six - EARTH (DIVIDED)
The fact that the target continued to appear then disappear was somewhat annoying, but wondrous nonetheless. Numbers scrolled down the right side of the screen. They provided air speed, air temp, and grid coordinates.
Gradually, as part of each loop, Margaret caught sight of the dry rivet bed and the long line of sandy colored cyborgs, and felt the excitement start to build. Here it was! The one thing any self respecting officer would give her right tit to get - first class, grade A, no doubt about it intelligence. The major reached for her wallet, pulled it out, and selected a fifty. "Here you go, Sergeant. You said the blasted thing would work, and you were right. This should cover the bet". Oko made a show of holding the bill up to the light before tucking it away. "Let's kick some ass, Major. I've got some drinking to do!"* * *
Their was an artificial roar as the multiple rocket launchers fired their 122mm rockets in salvos of fo
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HALF BREED Seventy seven - EARTH (DIVIDED)
Not satisfied to ride one of the heavy armored tanks, or one of the weapons platforms, Margaret opted for a scout car armed with a rack of four antitank missiles and two light machine guns. Mobility was everything, especially for this sort of brawl; the heavy stuff was claustrophobic. A minor detail she had neglected to mention to psych officers over the years. The seat was hot and burned the back of her thighs.Her driver, a mad woman named Booly, hit the gas, launched the car off a small rise, and hit the hard pan at forty mph. The gunners, anonymous behind their visors, grinned.Margaret would have been thrown out of her seat if it hadn't been for the harness. She kept a firm grip on the frame mounted grab bar and tried to peer through the oncoming dust and smoke. What was it that Clousy said? "On no account should we overlook the moral effect of a rapid, running assault"? The old bastard would have loved Booly.The top gunner opened up, a hot shell cas
HALF BREED Seventy eight - EARTH (DIVIDED)
It was Walker who first realized that they had won - if such a term could properly be used in connection with a force that had suffered more than fifty percent casualties.The first indication was a slackening of fire, followed by less contact, and more activity from Salom's fighters.While the aircraft had made short work of the planes sent to support the rebel advance, and destroyed the majority of their support vehicles, they were of limited value where ground support was concerned.Worried lest hit pilots bag some friendlies, the wing commander ordered them to wait. What he needed was a break. It came when the smoke started to clear and the rebels tried to run. * * * A weapons platform took a direct hit from a five hundred pound bomb. It ceased to exist and pieces of sharp edge metal fell like rain. They rattled across the hood, killed the top gunner, and buried themselves in the sand."Red Dog Three to Red Dog One. Where
HALF BREED Seventy nine - EARTH (DIVIDED)
The bad news was that they were down to only thirty five borgs and, unlike the rebels, had very little conventional armor to take up the slack.That news was depressing, damned depressing, and it dragged at Marco's spirits. They might survive one more battle, if they were lucky; then it would be over.If Lucy was depressed, there was no visible sign of it as she led him onto a lift and touched a button. The elevator lurched and fell. Marco eyed the indicator. It stopped on sub-level six - the very depths of the war Era catacombs.The doors slid open, and Captain Ny stepped forward to greet them. The six foot tall utility body had the appearance of a titanium skeleton. It whirred to attention. The salute was perfect. "Welcome to the center of the Earth, Colonel. Visitors are always welcome".Marco lifted an eyebrow. "Thanks, Captain. I'm in a bad mood today... so your dirt had better be clean".The other officer chuckled and led the way.&n
HALF BREED Eighty - IN SPACE
Every now and then, every other cycle or so, the Hoon liked to tour the fleet. The easiest way to accomplish that was to choose two or three hundred of the more than twenty thousand surveillance devices at his disposal and spend a tenth of a second on each.Though once routine, the excursions had been more rewarding of late, ever since the soft body had gone forth to "peach the gospel" - the essence of which seemed to consist of blocking thoroughfares, praising the supreme intelligence known as "God", and seeking "converts", which is to say semi autonomous units willing to listen to the human's rantings.The entire process seemed like a waste of time and resources except for one thing: interspersed with the nonsense regarding God was a good deal of anti Thraki rhetorics. And, like it or not, the Artificial Intelligence had no choice but to support sentients that shared the same mission it had which was to find Thraki and kill them.Still, the Hoon had encountered a consider
HALF BREED Eighty one - IN SPACE
"Don't tell me, let me guess", Herbert said disgustedly. "You signed on".Jyro looked away. "No, not exactly"."But close".The human turned back. The tone was petulant. "So, what if I did? There was no other choice".The navigational computer would have sighed, had such a thing been possible. "I think the message is pretty clear: They found some Thraki, and the Hoon wants you to kill them"."Why me?" Jyro asked desperately. "The Hoon could kill them by himself"."It's a test", the Artificial Intelligence replied patiently, "to see what you will do".The better part of a minute passed while the human considered the matter. When he spoke, the words fell one at a time."So it's kill or be killed"."Essentially", Herbert replied."Unless..." Jyro said."Unless what?""Unless I could convert the Thraki, and convince the Hoon to accept them"."Dream on", the Artificial Intelligence said simply. "The Hoon is a computer, and computers don't change. I
HALF BREED Eighty two - PLANET BYRON
The starlight Ballroom was an enormous place, capable of accommodating up to one thousand guests in microhab controlled comfort, and protected by a transparent dome. It was like dining among the stars, and while most beings enjoyed the sensation, some found it uncomfortable. They say within the embrace of specially designed screens.The Unioncity's captain had positioned his vessel so that Byron filled half the view, and, thanks to the slowly rotating deck, everyone could see.Guests had started to arrive. Some relied on elaborate life support systems, while others came under their own power.The ceremonial meals were well attended in spite of the fact that they were a mostly human concept. Partly because of the status conferred on those who were invited, but largely due to the fact that the get-togethers represented a wonderful opportunity to consummate political deals, especially those that require some nose to beak contact.This particular dinner was being held to hon
HALF BREED Eighty three - PLANET BYRON
The President's words were translated into a dozen languages, scanned for double entendres, racial slurs, or religious taboos, and edited accordingly.While something less than poetic, the results were nonoffensive."Good evening, honored guests. We gather to officially welcome the Abru-Mo to the Confederacy - and Ambassador Urulux Gray to our large and mostly functional family".Many, though not all, of those assembled in the room were equipped with a sense of humor and made a cacophony of noise ranging from laughter to clicks, pops, whistles, and in one case, a sort of honking sound.Sophie thought the laughter was funny, and struggled to wipe the smile off her face.The President's remarks were followed by a speech from the evening's official host, the senator from Byron, who, though too large to attend in person, was visible via the centrally projected holo.The speech was a long, rambling affair, which lasted through the first two courses and well into t
HALF BREED Eighty four - PLANET BYRON
The Camouflage's commanding officer, Spear Commander Kolosi, met War Commander Xian Karrh at the main lock. He wore the same uniform that his superior did, except that his gem was red. Though mutually respectful, both officers were wary as well, since no Dodvalian truly trusts anyone else. "Greetings, War Commander... We welcome your presence".This at least was true, since Kolosi had been waiting for two complete ship cycles, two dangerous ship cycles, and looked forward to leaving the sector as soon as he could. The cloaking technology was good, but so were Confederate sensors, and there were plenty of patrols.Kolosi assumed subordinates would welcome his presence and ignore the greeting. "Did the torpedo arrive on schedule? Were you able to capture it?"The questions were logical enough, especially in light of the ship's mission, but that didn't prevent Kolosi from resenting the manner in which they were framed.What? The War Commander thought nothing of the skill re
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