The Price of Glory

"The wee bairn, he'd be . . ." McCall rubbed his red beard in concentration. "What, two months now?"

"Nine weeks yesterday." Clay looked sideways at his friend with a shadow of a twinkle in his eye. "Guess what Gomez said she decided to name him?"

McCall shrugged and shook his head, then saw the twinkle. "No, Delmar, she didn't. She wouldn't do that to me."

"Yup." Clay gri

"Well, she got it half right, then. The Carlyle name's a grand one, for ae' it'll take some living up to." McCall looked deep into his comrade's eyes. "We may yet find her, laddie, and my young namesake as well. She's a spunky lass, that Terri. If she escaped the initial raid, she'll find a way to survive."

"I want to believe that, Davis. God, how I want to believe that."

18

Janice Taylor eased her weary body down onto the ground, closed her eyes, and sighed. It'd been a long, long day. Somehow the waiting times were the worst.

"Hey, Corp." A fresh-faced boy with carrot-colored hair sat down next to her. "You heard anything about the Old Man?"

To Corporal Taylor and the others of the Grey Death's infantry, whether Special Ops or ordinary PBIs, "the Old Man" referred to only one person—the steel-eyed, dagger-voiced Captain Ramage. Far less isolated from the ordinary soldier than was Colonel Carlyle, Ramage was one of them.

Janice opened her eyes. "Hi, Niklas."

"I ... I saw you were coming from the direction of the med tent, and, well, I just . . ." He broke off and looked down at his feet.

"You're right, Nik, I just came from there. I'm afraid he's not looking good. Burke says his condition is stable right now, but he doesn't know how long can he last without proper treatment."

"And he's sure not going to get that here!" Niklas interrupted angrily. Like all those trained by the former Trellwanese, Private Niklas Chen felt a deep admiration for and a passionate loyalty to "the Old Man," who was, in fact, all of 32.

"What do youthink we should do, Corporal Taylor? I mean. ..." Chen jerked a thumb in the direction of a row of bubble tents at the edge of the clearing behind him. "Some of the guys are saying as how we ought to pack it in. You know, we could, well, become farmers or something?"

Janice looked at him sharply. "You mean, disband the Legion?"

The redhead gulped and nodded. "You see, I figure we could take the Cap'n in to ... to .. . what's the name of that town? And maybe get him to a hospital, see? And . . . and they could patch him up?" His words stumbled all over themselves in their eagerness. "Anyway, I bet I could be a good farmer. My dad was one. Did I ever tell you about him? He could never figure out why I wanted to be a soldier. Hell, right now I don't have the damnedest idea either! 'Scuse me, ma'am." He flushed.

Corporal Taylor smiled. After being in the infantry for over a year and a half, she was amused at this young private treating her the way he would probably treat his mother.

"Tell me about your father, Nik" she said gently.

A soft, faraway look came into Private Chen's eyes. "I bet he was just the best da . . . er . . . best darned farmer there was in Norberia. That's where I grew up. It's on Winter, out by Trentham. You know where that is?"

Janice shook her head.

"Well, it's pretty far out, so I guess not too many folks'd know about it. But it's sort of like this place, you know? Kinda cold most of the time. But pretty." Chen absentmindedly picked up a stick and started scraping the ground with it. "I guess I didn't think too much of it back then. I kept angling to get offplanet, see new worlds, do new things. I sure do miss it now."

He looked up at Janice with a shy smile. "But you were asking me about my dad," he said suddenly. "You know, the Cap'n kind of reminds me of him. I don't mean he looks like him or anything. It's just that, well, when the Old Man chews us out about something, I can sort of picture my dad, like when he chewed me and Gunter—Gunter's my brother—chewed me and Gunter out for sliding down the meergrass stacks or chasing the naffers until they got sick." He laughed, a high boyish chuckle. "They sure did look fu

Then his face clouded-over, and his eyes grew dark. "Corporal, how're we going to get out of here?" Janice could hear a thin edge of panic in his voice. "First they blow up our . . . our home, and now they say we're outlaws!Why are they doing this, Corporal? What'd we do? We didn't do nothing!"

"Private Chen! Control yourself," Janice struggled to keep from showing the sympathy she felt. Chen was on the verge of hysteria, and he needed to hear authority in her voice. "What do you think the Old Man would say if he could hear you right now? Do you think he'd be proud? We're soldiers, Private. Did anyone ever tell you that a soldier's life is easy? Well, if anyone did, then anyone is a malting idiot!"

Chen swallowed hard as he worked to regain his composure. Janice softened her voice.

"We've just got to hold on, Nik, and make the Old Man proud of us." She smiled. "Make your dad proud, too."

Chen nodded, the corners of his mouth twitching in a weak attempt at a smile. "Thanks, Corp." He got up slowly and brushed himself off. "I reckon I'll go over to the med tent, see if Burke needs any errands run or anything."

Janice watched as Niklas Chen walked away between the trees, and shook her head. If this is what the burden of command is like, I don't ever want to be a sergeant!She hadn't answered any of his questions, questions that burned just as fiercely inside her brain. How the hell werethey going to get out of this one?

Would they have to disband? She didn't even want to think about that possibility, but she forced herself to it. She'd watched the Grey Death go from a handful of 'Mechs on her homeworld of Verthandi to a full-scale mercenary unit, almost a full battalion, though they all thought of it as "the regiment." She hated to think of the Legion that Grayson . . . that all of them had been working for so hard to build being dismantled.

But did they really have any other option? With the

DropShips captured, they were marooned on the planet that should have been their home. They had lost so many people, and those remaining felt shattered by their losses. From what Grayson had said earlier, they didn't even have the option of surrender. As outlaws, they would not be treated according to the Conventions. In fact, they could be summarily executed. How long could they hold on out here, with food supplies dwindling, with so many wounded needing expert medical attention, even if the Marik forces didn't make any moves to root them out of their hiding place? And even if they couldget offplanet by some miracle—recapture the DropShips or something—what good would that do them? The evil reputation that had been foisted on the Legion would precede them wherever they went. No one would hire them.

Corporal Janice Taylor clenched her fists in pain and anger as the thought struck her full force. The Legion was as good as dead.

* * *

Grayson Carlyle walked through the encampment, noticing the many small groups huddled together in earnest conversation. The usual light-hearted banter typical of a soldier's campgrounds was missing. It was always bad after a battle, when so many were wounded, but there was more than that here. This time, it was the whole Legion in danger, not just individuals.