Horizon Storms - Kevin J. Anderson [224]
The Roamers had opened the craft now, and they marched in a somber procession to retrieve Bill Stanna’s stiff, pale body. When they carried the soldier out, the EDF captives groaned, and a buzz of heated conversation filled the chamber.
“There was no reason for this, by damn,” Kellum said. His voice sounded plaintive. “There was no possibility he would get away, and yet still he flew off on this suicidal mission. Some of you—all of you—must have known he was going to do this. How could you let him? Where is your common sense?”
“You want us all dead anyway,” muttered Shelia Andez, her voice dripping acid.
Kellum flushed red and put his hands on his hips. “Would I keep yelling at you to be careful if I wanted you all dead?”
Standing close to Fitzpatrick, Zhett wanted to comfort him, felt anger and resentment flowing in waves from all the prisoners. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, but even he turned away.
Chapter 115 — ADMIRAL LEV STROMO
Since the EDF was sending such an overwhelming force against the Roamers, Admiral Stromo had no worries about the impending military operation. This would be an unqualified victory that he could take credit for. It was quite a relief, really.
Previously, each time he’d gone into battle, an icy ball in his stomach had spread numbness through his body. He had felt detached from all events, out of control, even though he was supposed to be the one in command. Times of peace and prosperity in the Hansa had allowed a smart and savvy man like himself to advance his career; unfortunately, everyone expected Stromo to be a tough military genius as well.
Early on, when he’d decisively put an end to the Ramah insurrection, he had been considered a war hero. He had always felt he deserved those medals, ribbons, and promotions—until he’d faced a real enemy and a real military crisis. His utter defeat at Jupiter had changed everything. He’d never been so frightened in his life, and he had lost his nerve. Something had broken within him, and afterward he had never felt the same. He’d lost his edge. No doubt, the EDF troops talked about him behind his back.
But this severe disciplinary action against the Roamers would restore his clout. Stromo felt he could do it. No, he was sure he could do it…
Sixteen Mantas entered the unremarkable star system where a red dwarf shone dull light into a mess of orbiting rocks. The Roamers were hiding in there, according to the data they had extracted from the clan ship seized at Hurricane Depot. The space gypsies didn’t know his fleet was coming, but they would find out soon enough. Even though General Lanyan had not authorized the use of massive Juggernauts, worried about taking them from hydrogue patrols, it was quite an impressive show of force.
One of the eager young tacticians hunched over a console on the lead Manta’s bridge. “Detecting space traffic, Admiral—right where we expected them to be. It’s a Roacher nest, all right.”
Stromo drew a deep breath. “Focus in on any artificial structures. See if you can pinpoint the main complex—a cluster of asteroids…spaceports, loading docks, connecting girders.”
“I’m tracing back flight paths, sir. There, a clear convergence!”
“Disperse our battle group so we come in from all sides,” Stromo said. “Remora pilots to the launch bays. This is a containment and absorption action. It’s your job to make sure nobody slips away. Our job is to make a bold statement here, and actions speak louder than words.”
“Our net will have plenty of holes in it, Admiral. Once they scatter, some of them will slip away,” said the Manta’s commander, Elly Ramirez. Stromo remembered her name in particular because she had been elevated in rank so that she could take command of this cruiser, which had formerly belonged to the Roamer officer Tasia Tamblyn. He couldn’t remember any of the other minor officers, though, since he’d barely met the crew before launching