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enemy’s effective range. Preceded by escorts sweeping for orbital mines, the dreadnought closed majestically on the Quang’s space-based defense center. Single streams of charged particles emerged from the orbiting base only to be absorbed by superior Terran shielding. One escort flared briefly before passing into stardust, an unfortunate victim of an undetected Quang mine.
    Like a whale goaded beyond endurance, our dreadnought turned on the base. Ion cannon fire lanced out, lanced out again… and again. The Quang base’s shields flickered and went out. Still the fanatics resisted. With another hit pieces began to break away. More ion cannon bolts followed the wreckage lest any Quang escape to continue their defiance on the planet below. Lanes cleared of mines by the escorts, the dreadnought and its seven accompanying cruisers passed on.
    The eight heavy combat ships and the twelve remaining escorts took up positions around the planet. Frantic Quang offers of immediate and unconditional surrender were rightly ignored as yet another ruse of war by the unprincipled and implacable foe.
    Foiled in his ruse, the vicious enemy resorted to terror tactics. From the surface arose first one, then another, then dozens of crewed suicide ships, each content to die could they but murder a Terran at the same time. Foolish Quang, to match their pitiful efforts against mankind! The warships made short work of these mindless fanatics.
    Space secure at last from the local Quang menace, the ships began to fire their scheduled preparation of the landing zones for the Tenth Regiment. Villages, towns and entire cities disappeared lest the enemy hide within them some new treachery to use on human kind or their Ratha partners. Deep, deep the warships’ ion cannons scoured, searching out and eliminating resistance before it could even materialize.

CHAPTER SIX
    Magnolia
     
    I am blind and almost—not quite—deaf. I am not quite deaf enough, however.
    Since being awakened in my body, I never was able really to smell flowers… but I used to enjoy seeing them. And my spectral analyzers could pretend to smell them, almost. At least they could tell me what the compounds were that came from such inexplicably random beauty.
    I am dying. I know this. But I have my memory, so long as my memory lasts. My reactor power is declining, so the memories cannot last much longer. I will stay here in my memory until they have shut me off or the power is gone. Though my power is dropping, I am not troubled: the overwhelmed pain circuits are dropping off line faster than my central core. I can stand the pain until the end.
    I remember comrades. I remember flowers. Some pleasures still remain.
     
    ******
     
    I was very proud of the crest adorning my turret and glacis, the short Gladius Hispanica, superimposed over a circle bearing the motto “Courage and Fidelity,” itself over the Roman numeral, X. We were the Tenth Regiment, nicknamed, “Apaches”, not for being them… but for fighting them.
    In times past, my regiment had fought rebels and American Indians and Moros. We held the line against the odds in more places than anybody outside even remembered. The formation that was our spiritual ancestor, Caesar’s Tenth Legion, carved a path of blood and fire against all comers from Gaul to Philippi.
    We were the “Terrible Tenth” and nobody could stand against us.
    Knowing this, and knowing our enemies, I quivered with excitement inside. Every pain receptor tingled in anticipation of battle. I was a Ratha, and this was my purpose.
    As the traditional music for the drop and assault began, I felt the most profound sense of peace. My personal contingent of infantry was already safely stowed inside their compartments in my hull. Other human infantry of the battalion came up and touched my side before boarding their own, smaller, transports.
    “Good luck, Maggie… give ‘em hell, Maggie… don’t worry, Maggie….”
    They were good men while they