The Sword and the Dagger

All these interests are focused on Stein's Folly, an unimportant world located near the Davion/Liao border in the Capellan March sector of Davion space.

1

With the fall of Redfield, the Davion commanders knew that it wouldn't be long before Liao came gu

First came a lightning strike by a squad of Liao Death Commandos who planted explosives at the huge radar communications station at the system's zenith jump point. By crippling the microwave relay dish aimed at Stein's Folly 1 AU away, no warning of the attack could get through to the Davion forces onworld. At the same time, an unmarked Liao freighter popped in from less than 8,000 klicks away. Even before unfurling its sail or engaging its station-keeping thrusters, the ship disgorged a quartet of UnionClass DropShips, which headed straight for the two Davion InvaderClass JumpShips parked at the station, jamming the JumpShips' communication signals as they went.

The JumpShip crewmen repeatedly ordered the Drop-Ships to change course, but the four vessels just kept on coming. Then they began frantically radioing the jump station for further instructions, but the only reply they got was electronic noise. How could those Davion crewmen have known that Liao saboteurs had just transformed the jump station's communications gear into wreckage and debris and that a furious firefight was raging in the comm center at that very moment?

Meanwhile, the DropShips had begun spearing the Invaderswith high-energy lasers, crippling them. By the time the JumpShip crews had gotten to the weapons lockers, or had even realized that they were under attack, space-armored invaders had already boarded the ships and were turning the passageways into slaughter pens.

Only now did the first of the Liao warships materialize at the jump point. As grapples swung back and restraining bolts exploded in silent rushes of vapor in the vacuum of space, the warships freed the huge OverlordClass Dropships they carried. Next came specially rigged and fitted freighters that disgorged hosts of AeroSpace Fighters strapped with fuel tanks more massive than themselves.

Even before the last Davion crewman lay dead amid the victory shouts that rang through the corridors of the Jump-Ships, the invaders were on their way to Stein's Folly, their drive flares creating an awesome display of light and power.

Phase One of the Liao assault had lasted sixteen minutes, ten seconds from the moment the first plastique charge exploded at the jump station, but the groundside defenders were still not even aware that they were under attack.

* * * *

Steindown lay deep within Stein's Folly's night hemisphere when the emergency call came through from DESTra, the Deep Space Tracking station in an elongated polar orbit about the planet. Colonel Winters was asleep when the orderly entered his chambers.

"Snuh-huh?" Winters tried to focus on the young face looking down into his own old and bleary-eyed one. "Whazit, Lieutenant?"

"DESTra reports a DropShip fleet inbound, Colonel, pushing at three Gs. They do not respond to our signals. Combat Intelligence believes they are hostiles, sir."

Winters closed his eyes again. "Relay it to Fleet Captain Vandenburg."

"Colonel... please !The jump station does not respond! Not one ship at the jump point responds! Colonel, wake up! Please!"

"What time is..." He came wide awake, eyes staring. "How many Gs?"

"Three Gs, Colonel. And they're already well past turnover and decelerating. ComInt estimates they'll be here within four hours."

"My...God..." Winters shook himself, rolled from his bed. The lieutenant helped steady him as he stood. "Go man ...go! Scramble the defenses! Sound Red Alert! Good lord, man, don't just stand there! If they catch us asleep on the ground...!"

But the mournful keening of the base siren was already sounding across Steindown. The lieutenant of the watch had shown rare initiative in sounding a full Red Alert without an order from his commanding officer. That might have been grounds for a courtmartial, but any military court would probably excuse the extraordinary circumstances of the offense. Besides, within five hours, whether or not the lieutenant might face courtmartial was no longer in question. He would not survive the Liao invasion of Stein's Folly.

* * * *

Uchita Tucker shrugged her shoulders against the cockpit harness that held her secure against the seat of her TR-7 ThrushAeroSpace Fighter. She hurt, and every muscle in her body shrieked for release. Her squadron was still decelerating at three Gs, and after ten hours of sitting wedged into her narrow cockpit with the equivalent of two people seated in her lap, the stress of high-G boost was wearing her down. Normally, fighters ferried from jump point to world in the bowels of Union or OverlordClass DropShips, but the Overlordsthat trailed her squadron this time carried the assault force reserves. The fighters of Dagger Squadron had begun the passage with extra tanks of reaction mass strapped above and below their squat, disk-shaped bodies. Those tanks, empty now and discarded, preceded the squadron toward Stein's Folly at nearly 1000 kps, the speed they'd retained when jettisoned. The fighters had slowed now to a few hundred kilometers per second.

The drive flares of the six Thrushfighters continued to slow them by thirty meters per second, leaving Uchita with the feeling that her lithe body's usual 57 kilos had massed to over 170 kilos. She was very tired.

Unconsciously flexing her right hand, Uchita knew she had one advantage over her squadron mates. Both of her legs and her right arm were bionic grafts, the result of a bad crashlanding in another Thrushthat was now scrap and memories. All that had happened on a world far from the mottled green sphere whose image was now appearing in her aft camera viewscreen, beyond the dazzle of the drive flare. Her left arm was numb with strain and each breath was painful, but the mechanical parts of her body still functioned effortlessly, painlessly.

If only I can keep my mind clear and functioning, too, she thought.

Less than three hours remained until they reached atmosphere—even less than that until they tangled with the local Davion space defenses. When it was time for combat and adrenalin was pouring through her system, Uchita would be fully alert and at a fighting pitch, despite the strain of the past ten hours. That's how it always was. She checked her instruments again and peered past her drive flare at Stein's Folly. The surface was a patchwork of green land and deeper green seas, except where the local sun reflected gold and orange from cloud tops and water.

Some would think that sight pretty, she thought. The smile that touched her lips was bitter, and there was winter's ice in her eyes. But not me. Not the 'Mech-woman ... the Automaton of Destruction...Old Iron Pants...

She closed her eyes, her jaw muscles tensing. It might be that Uchita had won the respect of the other pilots in her squadron, but she had never won their friendship nor enjoyed the special camaraderie of the wardroom. She had long since stopped caring about the people around her, though, to the point where she'd been disciplined several times for disregarding battle tactics and squadron coordination. She had a reputation as a loner, a combat ace who cared more for upping her tally of twelve kills than for her comrades to port or to starboard.