"You have left us little choice, offworlder," the proctor said. "You didn't even bother to consult with us before your attack..." Grayson considered the implications of consulting with the local civilians each time he contemplated an attack. "I apologize, gentlemen, for not consulting with you," was all he said, "but there simply was no time before the attack. And I fear we have little time to lose now before the Kurita forces gather in response to our action here." He turned to Lori. "Check and see how the loading is coming along. We move in one hour, ready or not"
That shook the three of them. "What? Wait! You can't mean to leave us!"
Grayson feigned surprise. "Why, I thought you planned to cooperate with Nagumo, to ask for his mercy. You can't expect us to remain while you and Nagumo dicker for our heads!"
"You misunderstand us, sir," Proctor Jorgenson said. "We dislike the Combine as much as you do. More, I daresay. This is ourworld they have taken, not yours! But what chance do we have against a regiment of BattleMechs? At least stay and protect us, now that you've stirred them up against us! To abandon us now would be...criminal!"
"Gentlemen, I would like to stay and help you, but that is simply impossible. My army is outnumbered. To be trapped here, in the open, by Nagumo's superior forces would be an invitation to complete disaster. We must keep moving."
"But what are we to do?" The proctor's complaint was a thin wail. "We'll be killed!"
"Do? Why...you could stay and make peace with Nagumo's Colonel, when he comes."
Jorgenson's finger stabbed angrily at the holo- of the Marauder."That is Nagumo's Colonel!" he said. "A moment after that young man in the holo surrendered, that monster dropped him to the street and stepped on him like an insect!"
"Then you had better run..."
"There are children in the town...women...old people...”
“...or you can fight!”
“Fight? With what?"
Grayson turned to Tollen. "Colonel, we captured more weapons in that supply dump than we can possibly carry with us. Go find Sergeant Ramage. The two of you organize a detail to pass out weapons and ammo to anyone from Scandiahelm who wants them. Show them how to use them. But quickly! We don't have much time!"
"Yes, sir!"
"And send a detail into Scandiahelm. We're going to need cargo transports to carry the loot. Hovercraft, if they have them."
"You can't!" the moustached Verthandian said. "How will we get away..."
"On foot, or in the vehicles we'll leave you," Grayson replied. "We won't take everything, and we’re leaving you more than enough guns and supplies. That ought to pay for a few hover transports."
"Give us guns...is that it?"Jorgenson waved his arms, incredulous. "What good are guns against Nagumo's BattleMechs?"
"Why, no good at all," Grayson said cheerfully, "but they'll be quite useful against the Governor's men. You'll find that Nagumo doesn't have ‘Mechs enough to garrison every village and hamlet on Verthandi. Why, he's going to be hard-pressed just trying to keep track of us."
"But we're one village..."
"Then dammit, man, talk to your neighbors! Get the other villages to help! East of here the entire Vrieshaven district is in open revolt! Join them! Get others to join you! You've got-—my God— what? A hundred thousand? Two hundred thousand people on this planet? Against maybe a hundred ‘Mechs and a few thousand soldiers! There's no waythey can hold this world if enough of you refuse to let them do it!"
Jorgenson looked dazed. "You...you'll help us?"
Grayson nodded. "I'll be back...or some of my people will. We'll help to train you, get you organized. We'll teach you what we know about fighting BattleMechs, what their weak points are. Believe me, you're not helpless! And you're not alone!"
"You bastard," the third Verthandian muttered, bitterness in his voice. "You bastard! You've just been maneuvering us into your war!"
"It's yourwar," Grayson said. "I'm just the hired help. But if you want the Dracos out, you'd better start fighting them yourselves!"
The proctor gathered up the holos and slipped them back into the packet. "How long before Nagumo attacks us?"
"I don't know. It may depend on whether or not this watchstation was able to get off a warning. Judging by their condition of...readiness, I'd say there's a good chance that it'll be days before anyone wonders why this place hasn't reported in. On the other hand, enemy fighters could be overhead in the next fifteen minutes."
"Then I must alert the town... and the other towns in the region. And I have to talk to the people, see who will...Who will follow me. The rest, we'll have to see about moving them to caves we know of, in the mountains."
Grayson looked up sharply. The proctor still looked afraid, but there was a new light in the man's eyes. He was not as old as Grayson had first thought.
"I'll let you use one of my skimmers," Grayson said. He led the civilian delegation back into the sunshine. Brasednewic was nearby, directing the loading of cases of rifles and ammunition on the cargo rack of a mercenary skimmer. 'Tollen, I want to see you for a moment." When they were apart from the bustle of soldiers, Grayson spoke rapidly. "They're going to fight."
Brasednewic cast a skeptical glance across Grayson's shoulder to where the three civilians waited in the shadow of Grayson's inert Shadow Hawk."Yes?"
"I want you to tell off a detail of your men, however many you think you'll need. Stay here with these people, get them organized and armed. Nagumo's going to hit this place in the next few days to make an example of them, and the village will need a cadre of veterans to stiffen them or they'll be done for."
"You think of that now, after dragging them into this?"
For one stark instant, Grayson’s anguish showed in his eyes and face. "Dammit, Tollen, what would you have me do?"
"I...I'm sorry...Captain." He looked back at Jorgenson and the others. "It's hard. These are my people..."
"I know, I know, and I'm a damned outlander who can't understand. But if you people don't start fighting your own wars, I'm not going to be able to fight them for you!"
Brasednewic’s gaze strayed back to Grayson, then to the ground beneath his boots. "You don't understand," he said. "These are my people. I was born down there, in Scandiahelm. I lived here for most of my life. Some of us havebeen fighting our own war... as best as we know how."
"I'm...sorry. I didn't know...."
"What difference does it make? Anyway, you're right. But you have to understand that...not all Verthandians think that what we...the rebels...are doing is right. My own family, for instance."
"Your family?"
"My mother was killed in a rebel attack, oh... maybe a year after the Dracos came. I...I was already with the rebels by then. I didn't hear about it for another couple of years. But my father and brother, they joined the Loyalists.
"You have to understand, a lot of people see the war as a chance to win out against the Old Families, as they're called. The Scandinavian families who hold most of the land and power on Verthandi."
Grayson didn't know what to say. He'd never been this close to the true horror of civil war.
Brasednewic shrugged. "It doesn't really matter anymore. My father was reported dead...lynched by a rebel mob...a year ago. I guess my brother is a Blue by now. He'd be old enough. I don't know where he is." He seemed to shake himself, to draw himself back to awareness of his surroundings. "As you say. Captain, a couple hundred of my people should be enough. We'll set up here, but with an HQ post back in the hills. I doubt that we'll be able to hold this place for long if Nagumo makes a determined push. But maybe I can keep these people together, get them fighting with some kind of organization."