Gears of War: Jacinto's Remnant by Karen Traviss

Author:Karen Traviss [Traviss, Karen]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: Random House Worlds
Published: 2009-07-15T00:00:00+00:00

VECTES SHOREFRONT.

“Hold your fire—Delta, stand down!”

As soon as the first shot cracked and the insect whine of a round passed over their heads, Dom knew that diplomacy here was going to be basic. His automatic reaction to coming under fire was to drop down and return it. It was hard to override something that had been so hard-drilled in him for nearly twenty years that it was now instinct.

“Delta, maybe you should withdraw.” Gettner’s voice didn’t sound agitated, but Dom could understand why a pilot sitting in a Raven with extra fuel tanks was a little nervous around weapons discharged by strangers. “Barber’s covering you.”

“Stand by, Major,” Marcus said. “They just don’t know how lovable we are yet.”

Baird muttered something under his breath and pulled his goggles over his eyes. Dom took a few cautious steps forward so he could see better. Marcus seemed to put an awful lot of faith in psychology, but all Dom could think was that even a Stranded asshole who couldn’t shoot straight was capable of a head shot at that range, and Marcus never wore a helmet. That do-rag wasn’t going to save him.

Dom had to strain to hear what the civvies were saying, but everyone else was loud and clear on the radio.

“Hey, I’m not shooting, citizen,” Marcus said.

The man out front—forty-five, fifty, sandy hair—still had his shotgun leveled. “Who the hell are you?”

“Sergeant Marcus Fenix, Coalition of Ordered Governments. Why don’t we put down the weapons and talk?”

“All kinds of vermin can get hold of COG armor these days. Prove who you are.”

He definitely had Marcus there. A COG-tag wouldn’t prove a thing. The crowd was getting bigger.

“If I give you my earpiece,” Marcus said carefully, “I can probably get Chairman Prescott himself to talk to you.”

That usually didn’t cut much ice with Stranded. Dom prepared to open fire if anyone’s finger so much as moved on the trigger again, and waited for the frozen pause to turn into the usual abuse about fascist assholes. But the guy with the shotgun seemed taken aback.

“Damn, after all these years…”

“I’m Marcus.” Yeah, he had this crowd control thing down pat. No ranks now, just people. “And this is Anya Stroud, and Bernadette Mataki. You want to catch up on the news?”

The guy lowered his shotgun, although the other man just angled his down forty-five degrees.

“Gavriel,” he said. “Lewis Gavriel. Head of maintenance at the naval base. Been here since before the COG decommissioned it. More than twenty years.”

Marcus held out his hand for shaking. It always surprised Dom that he could switch back instantly to the well-mannered heir to a big estate, who knew the right titles to call people and how to read a wine list.

“Nice place you got here,” Marcus said. “We used to call it Toxin Town”

“And we knew how to keep the lids sealed.” Gavriel motioned to the other guy to lower his weapon. “That’s all gone now. Are you planning to bring the rest of your men?”

Marcus turned to wave the squad forward.

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