S. M. Stirling - Draka 01 by S. M. Stirling

Author:S. M. Stirling
Language: eng
Format: epub

CHAPTER TWELVE

02/04/42

Strategos Cynthia Carstairs Planning Staff. Supreme C.H.Q.

Castle Tarleton. Archona

Chiliarch Denford de Foumeault

Harmost [military governor]. North Italy

Milan

Your request of 07/10/41.

Service to the State! [handwritten postscript]

Look, Dennte. I know we're asking you to make bricks without straw, but there just aren't any more troops or administrators to send you. I can't even spare any reliable old-territories serf personnel; we've stripped the Police Zone to the danger point to support the offensive. Hell, we're running the place with grandmothers and schoolkids as it is; Security tells me there's another of those loony cults running through the factory compounds, claiming all the Draka are being spirited away by their master Satan.

You'll just have to make do with what you've got; we persuaded the Security people to scale back on their liquidation-and-deportation schedule. I thought you said that would help? We can let you have some of the aerosol nerve gas.

if you'd rather.

Tech Section was pleased with those job-lots of equipment and skilled workers you've been sending: something about

"heavy water." whatever that means. Maybe one of the bombardment rocket projects. Anyway, keep up the good work and don't wear yourself out on the Woppo wenches.

Love, Cynthia

P.S. No. you can't have a combat command, either. You're too valuable there.

DRAKA FORCES BASE KARS, PROVINCE OF ANATOLIA APRIL 14, 1942: 0600 HOURS

The barrage lit the sky to the east, brighter than the false dawn. Forty kilometers, and the guns were a continuous flicker all along the arch of the horizon, as of heat-lightning, the sound a distant rumbling that echoed off the mountains and down the broad open valleys.

Johanna von Shrakenberg stood to watch it from the flat roof of the two-story barracks. She had risen early, even though her lochos was on call today and so spared the usual four-kilometer run; slipped out from between Rahksan and the sleeping cat, and brought her morning coffee and cigarette up here. The cold was bitter under the paling stars, and she was glad of the snug, insulated flight suit and gloves. Steam rose from the thick china mug, warm and rich, soothing in her mouth as she sipped.

The guns had been sounding since the start of the offensive.

She tried to imagine what it was like under that shelling: earth and rock churning across square kilometers, thousands of tons of steel and explosive ripping across the sky… the artillery of sixty legions, ten thousand guns, everything from the monster 240's and 200's of the Army Corps reserve to field guns and mortars and rocket launchers.

" Only the mad inhuman laughter of the guns," she quoted softly. Beyond that was the Caucasus, and the passes where the Airborne legions had landed in the German rear. Her brother among them… she shook her head. Worry was inevitable and pointless, but Eric's grip on life was not as firm as she would have liked. The sort of man who needs something or someone to live for, she thought. I wish he'd find one, this business is dangerous enough when you're trying.

Dawn was breaking, rising out of the fire and the thunder.

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