Missiles rippled across the left arm of my Maelstrom, shattering armor. Wireframe flickered yellow to red. I saw movement in the trees and hit back with my Cyclops. Emerald light burned through the trees and scorched the pretty white paint right off the Excalibur's chest, but didn't do anything else.

Damn. Wish that Awesome hadn't taken out my PPC.

Fortunately, I'd managed to knock out the Excalibur's Gauss. If I could just work inside his LRM firing arc, I'd have him.

Sidestepped right. As long as he was in the trees he had cover on me.

But I had mobility.

One of our J. Edgar's opened up on him, pulling the toaster's attention to the left, giving me a few precious seconds to close and move around.

The toaster glanced my way and started to back up. He saw what was coming, but the forest cut his mobility. He wasn't going to run his way out of this one.

And I was inside his arc.

I opened up with my pulse lasers and cut into his armor. Not much damage, but he couldn't hit back. All I had to do was work him down.

My radio crackled and I heard Jon Davion say, "Heavy Guards, this is Heavy One. Fighting withdrawal. Fall back by battalions, rotating rear guard, starting with Second. Execute."

I toggled my radio. "Hey, el tee, I got a toaster on the ropes here, why're we pulling back?"

"The Prince doesn't pay us to chat," snapped the el tee. "Do me a favor, Nguyen, and just this once follow orders without talking about it."

I blinked at the rebuke. What the hell had gotten into the el tee's shorts? But I knew how to follow orders. I brought my Maelstrom to a stop.

And watched the Excalibur drift out of range.

"It's the Fifth," said Carlsson. "They should be guarding our flank. They sold us out. Atomic Annie's gotta be working for the Robes."

"You don't know that," I said. "Maybe she's on some kind of special mission."

Carlsson's snort told everyone know what he thought of that theory. "Yeah, sure, Nguyen. Bet you believe in Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny, too."

"If we fall back we're going to leave the Crushers exposed," said Henderson.

"That is enough," bellowed the el tee. "I thought I told you all to cut the malfing chatter. Fall back by numbers. When we reach Grid Six Four Two we will dig in and cover Second's retreat."

A chorus of "yessirs" filled the radio.

But no one had missed Henderson's point. If we were retreating, we had to be losing the battle for Cormarc.

A cold chill wriggled down my spine.

My radio crackled and I looked at it hopefully.

And then someone shouted, "Davion is down hard. Marshal Davion is dead."

"What was that?" I blurted out.

"Lock it down," snarled the el tee. "Tactical comms only. Now, FALL BACK."

My throat was suddenly painfully tight. Marshal Davion was dead. But which one? Jon?

Or Jackson?