By Stephen Ames Berry
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Extra info for Final Assault
Target appeared at jump point a few moments ago," said S'Jat in her usual low, soft voice. She nodded at the board. " "And pass right through," said P'Qal brusqely. The emergency wasn't improving his notoriously short temper. " "Absurd," said the captain. " "Perhaps we don't know everything about astrogation and physics," suggested the first officer. They stared at each other, the short, bald man and the tall, thin brunette. "I'm not going to debate epistemology with you," said P'Qal. " His eyes shifted to the tacscan data threading across the board.
Before the landing struts had even touched the ground, the raiders were leaping out, running for the village, M32 rifles in hand, S'Rel and Sutherland in the lead. The survivors huddled at the other end of the clearing, a pathetic group of ragged, terrified children clutching their frightened mothers; a few old men, watching the American Rangers and the K'Ronarin commandos impassively, through eyes that had seen too much, and one very fat man, shirtless but wearing a big straw hat. Behind them, smoke drifted lazily from the ruins of their homes out over the broad brown stretch of the Amazon.
It's Combine T'Lan who are the outcasts, Commodore. " That shook D'Trelna. " D'Assan smiled. " D'Trelna shook his head. "Sweet crap again, Councilor. Combine T'Lan undoubtedly's in touch with their home universe. " D'Assan seemed to have reached a decision. "My final argument. If I am the unknowing dupe of alien slime, why haven't I or they had you killed, Commodore? " D'Trelna thought about that for a moment. "Two reasons: one, a convert is always more useful than a corpse, and two, Captain My Lord H'Nar L'Wrona, Hereditary Lord Captain of the Imperial Guard and Margrave of U'Tria-my friend and your enemy.