There was a moaning vibration along the walls I'd not heard before. I burst onto the bridge, where several screens showed men streaming from the two crates I'd noted in the bay. Another showed thick white smoke blooming up from cans dropping on the tarmac outside. A dozen prone men flanked the ship, firing at something out of sight. Between billows, I could see others escorting drivers off equipment at gunpoint, then leaping aboard them, in replacement. This quickly became lost in the smoke. One high viewpoint showed the lot beyond the ship erupting in blasts that flung paving up in the air. The lot became almost as obscured by smoke as the ship's rear. Through it, two streams of tracer fire...hosed, is the only word that comes to mind. They sprayed independently from each other. Several vehicles simply decomposed where the stream of bullets touched them. Area denial, indeed. Nothing moved through that storm. I figured that John had unlimbered the Adagio, which accounted for the wall vibrations, felt even here.

Materials started moving into the bay again. But there was a thrumming, and stitches of bullets raked the ground. We started to take fire from above. Someone had got support into the air, and the Gatling stitch ran forward, sparking over the Kreeb ship, then onto the caravan. One loader, carrying a palate of barrels, exploded in a bloom of roiling orange fire. The shadows of men, back-lit by the conflagration, fled stumbling or racing through the smoke, some towards the ship, others just staggering away in whatever direction they could. But not all of them. A flight of the Adagio's rockets hissed upwards. Concussions followed, and there were no more sky attacks.

The com at my belt crackled. Henry's voice. “We got as much cargo as is safe to get, unless you want to try and wipe the whole camp. They don't have much here, so we could, if you want to try for more. Risk goes way up though. Take the balance of the day, probably. We'd loose people to sniping, all that. So?”

Whitely, I shook my head, then into the comm, “No we're done. Get your people back, and seal up. We're not here to war on this place. Besides, who knows what's on its way here?”

“Gladly. Leave it to us and Clacks.”

A few more loads made it up the ramp; people, some walking, some limping, a few being dragged, followed. A sickly red smear trailed behind one of those being pulled up the ramp, causing my stomach to churn. Some returning fire puffed from windows in the main building. Another of the walkers dropped through a mist of red. A final hosing from the Adagio crumbled a 12 foot hole in the building where the sniper likely was. The hold buttoned up, and Clacks rose the ship.

I looked around the bridge. The girls were ashen. Squabbling forgotten for now, they clung to each other, appalled. John made an appearance, face taught. A red spotted dressing flagged one bicep, another decorated his head. He seemed unsteady. He motioned to Clacks, and a recording of our arrival replayed on one screen.

It froze where it passed over the greenhouses. Then zoomed in on one. Through the misty plastic of the nursery, I saw the stalk-like reeds of sugarcane.

“Not over. Can't leave that stuff here. Talked to Henry about it. Clacks agrees.”

I thought about that, in my funk. Either our captives had lied, or some work-around had been successful. Maybe they only used it to make ethanol, or it was some new variant that wouldn't affect the Kreeb. I grimaced. This was just me, trying to imagineer my way out of what needed doing. “That the only one?”

John blinked. “Does it matter? I know what you are thinking, but If they can plant more, blowing that one shed wont solve anything, long term. We caught 'em pants around their ankles this time. Won't happen twice, bet on it.”

Shit. “How Many...?”

“How many men did we lose? Six, one was married, and there were a couple three wounded pretty bad. Actually, pretty good. Brings us to about forty-two combatants.”

Pretty good. I sank to the floor. I should be shot. I should never have done this. All those people dead, because I wanted back to my digs in Frisco. And now this.

Warm hands pressed softly on my shoulders from behind. Lisa crooned from behind those. “It's horrible, but it's not you. It's not you, yah? You saved us, the ones who came back, and the ones that stay on, and not just you. All these guys, why they came. Why they went out, took the chance, faced what they faced.”

Bitterly, I spat, “I saved no one. Reese Corp wasn't going to kill anyone. This was all...a political..a...”

Her grip tightened. “They enslaved the Kreeb with chemicals. Don't matter it was something in raw sugar. They intended to enslave all the colonists too. After snatching 'em off the streets. Impressment, Yah? And let the whole planet go to hell without giving it a shot at redemption. All fer money, not even money, for the promise of future wealth. Probably don't even give it a thought, them guys.”

“You don't understand where this is going.” I waved a hand at the screens, where the Reese compound dwindled. “A bunch of those people are just huddling under Reese's banner to survive. Doing what they're told in order to stay. What do you suppose we will need to do now, for the damn colony? Our people in here, those out there?”

John humphed. “Its a bag a cats, alright. Eh,” looking at Reems, “No offense meant.”

Reems, flopped insolently on the floor, and whisked his tail. “I understand the aphorism, fine ist.”

The two men who had accompanied me to talk with Reese poked their heads through the bridge door. One waved at John for attention. “John? Sorry to intrude, but needed to know, that is, Henry wanted me to ask...”

John turned and faced the pair. “Well, spit it out. What do you need?”

“Its about the prisoner, sir.”

John looked annoyed. Far as I know,drop 'em off once we are done here. Why ask me?”

“Oh, not those guys. The new one, the POW we picked up.”

John pulled his brows together. What POW? First I've heard about it. You are Michelson, right? Used to be regular army?”

The taller of the two bobbed his head. “Yes sir. The guy we picked up out front. Just at the start of things. The fat guy.”

John shot me a glance. My funk cleared away a little as I tried to sort out what they were on about. I remembered talking to Reginald Reese, his guards pulling side arms, then being pulled to the floor. Bullets flying overhead. Running for the bridge. I shook my head and shrugged. “Don't remember seeing anyone else, Reese, his guards, Clacks, me, and these two. Just, a lot of shooting.” A understanding dawned. Reginald Reese? Could it be?

“Didn't you guys shoot... what happened after you pulled me to the deck?”

The two soldiers looked at each other. “Well...” Mike thought a minute. “The two toughs, they put the heavy guy behind them and drew revolvers. We shot them, and they fell off the ramp. Dunno if they survived or not. The fat guy though, was non-com, so we didn't shoot at him, just grabbed him up and hauled him inside, then shut the hatch.”

The other one piped up. “You scrambled to your feet and hiked off to the bridge about then.”

Mike corrected this. “Maybe a bit before. Anyway save for a nicked leg, he's fine. So Henry wanted to know...”

Reese! They had grabbed Reese!. The Reese.

An Idea started to form. “I think, I think we may be able to end this without a war. Thank god.” It was a chance anyway. I needed to see Henry. “Hold that guy separate from the others meantime.”

John smiled, having an inkling of what was going through my mind. “You heard the man. Go do.” Then to me, “I'll let Henry know you're on your way down.”

****

Henry frowned in thought. “Negotiate? You mean, use Reese for a hostage?”

With one leg immobilized to a sling above the bed, Henry couldn't sit fully up, but looked like he wanted to.

I shook my head. “No. We need his ongoing compliance. No matter how many cane-plants we destroy here, they can likely create more. Won't do.”

“What exactly do you have in mind?”

“A contract, not out and out blackmail, but leverage. The colony will need to export for ongoing supplies. What we have in the ship won't cover everything. Hell. We didn't even get all we came to pick up. Anyway, He doesn't know we burned the cane. We could say we might circulate the cane to other groups here, there's still a few, like the one in new Mexico, and ask for help.”

Henry nodded. “That could start a war here, with several agencies using the Kreeb to seek advantage, and with access to interstellar travel, maybe even with his own business partners.”

“Yeah, that's my thought. Trade our silence, for a trade monopoly.”

“We'd need to provide evidence that the cane still exists.”

I shrugged. “We send John to raid their sugar-shack. He wants to burn it anyway. Let him, but have him grab some samples first.”

“Better do that right away, then. Before you talk to the guy, and hopefully, before this camp can recover and call in more support. Pass me that communicator.”

####

Clacks set the ship down again, bay doors facing the hot-house. The bay door yawned open. A squad of colonists rushed out, to brake down the building's flimsy door. The lot was still mostly clear. Sniper fire from the main facility immediately started up, echoing across the compound. But with the ship intervening, there were no direct targets. Soon, flame and smoke licked within the shed, and the crew re-boarded. We lifted immediately, closing the bay as we rose.

Gary Rouk, arms folded, leaned against the side of Clacks' command shelter, watching the monitors with me. The fire now engulfed the farming module. The roof of it sagged and collapsed in on itself. Reems seemed to have taken a liking to the weatherman, and flopped in a crescent at his feet. Rebecca was going over a console with a Kreeb technician to one side, and Lisa stood near the bridge port, abstracted, back to watching her with some discomfort.

Rouk looked doubtfully at the scene. One hand scratched at a cheek. “You really think this is going to work? What's to stop them from raising cane again anyway, and suborning more Kreeb? We could end with corporation troopers on the colony's doorstep, a few months from now.”

I shrugged. “If we can get his agreement, Reese should have more to gain than lose, already being the sole import/exporter for the place. The threat of fostering competition here, and the resulting power scramble, ought to be enough. Reese isn't that big an outfit.”

“You ought to get the Kreeb involved in this. I'm sure the hive queens don't want to see the ability to create leaders pass to human control. Let them police Reese, comes to it.”

Clacks chimed in. “This is so. But, please to let me this duty perform. Still must obtain recognition for my nest first.”

“Well,” I admitted, “and there you have it. Agreements don't come with lifetime warranties, far as I've ever heard. We can gain backup from the Kreeb, soon enough, and time, and material for the colony out of it. Meantime Rebbecca can be working towards saving the planet.”

It all sounded so simple, but inside, I was leaden. The snatch and grab had turned complex and the trip mostly an even more tangled ball of dreams than it had started out being. Yet here I was, blowing around like a leaf in the midst of it. Where was my comfy apartment, a can of beans and fresh veggies in all this? How did this happen to me?

Rebecca turned from the console, and drawled, “Ah think ah have a handle on their computer system, and the programs Iah need are available on it or can be programmed alright. Need to get the most current look at the asteroid, its orbit, speed, mass, trajectory path, all that, on our way out. This boy heah says it wont be a problem. Then we'll see. Mmm, probably kin get a few smaller ones to counter orbit or tugboat it using the smaller rock's gravitation to pull at it, drag it away, over time. Take centuries though, but mean time things would stop getting any worse.”

I nodded. “I'll note that in our negotiations. Funny the Kreeb didn't figure this out on their own. Something for later, though. Ready, Gary?”