Her ships were damaged, though not so much as to cripple any of them, and her stores were low. It was the munition stores more than anything that were the deciding factor, of course. Here they were, with standoff weapons the likes of which she doubted God could have faced, and of course they were opposed by an enemy that would simply fly in and take everything they had right in the face until the guns fired dry.

Against any sane enemy, the waveguide cannons were the ultimate strategic weapon. You couldn’t run, you couldn’t hide. Against the Drasin, however, they were nothing more than a tease. A hope of victory dangled in front of her face, right before the final crushing defeat.

She slumped slightly, knowing that it was wrong and she shouldn’t show that much emotion to those around her, but she couldn’t really care just then.

“Susan . . .” Gracen said, her voice worn and tired, “issue the order. Begin evacuations.”

Susan nodded slowly. “Yes ma’am. Issuing orders.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

“WATCH YOUR SIX, Kieren,” Bermont ordered, keeping a close eye on his Priminae troops.

They were a peculiar mix of eager, timid, and green as fresh-mown grass. It was endearing at times, but not a particular good mix for a soldier on a battlefield. Bermont had been through enough fighting, though, to know talent and potential when he saw it, and that was something that was present for most of them.

They’d do well if they lived through their first few days of fighting, which was his job to ensure.

The Drasin in Dallas were dug in, numerous, and apparently dead set on keeping the crumbling city they were all fighting in. That was fine with Bermont. As a Canadian he’d always had the sneaking suspicion that Americans were crazy in more than just the good ways, and Texans were all that and a side of loco in his experience. Getting a kick in the teeth like losing Dallas to some aliens would do things to them that Bermont didn’t want to think on too hard, but really wanted to watch.

From a safe distance.

Preferably a different solar system, now that he thought on it.

He leveled his Priminae gravity rifle, discharging a carbon crystal projectile into a Drasin that was lumbering in his direction. He didn’t like to think of them as diamonds. It made him shudder at using something that valuable as ammo, but hell, if it was his life at stake, he supposed that anything he could use would ultimately be worth it.

Besides, he wasn’t footing the bill for the fight.

Speaking of . . . Bermont paused, ducking back as his tactical comm flipped to the background and the command channel came to the front. He keyed into it as soon as he was clear of immediate danger, and smiled when he saw Susan Lamont’s face looking out at him from the overlay.