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guns, and there were avenues to the north and south that would permit them to get close enough to bring the entire enemy base under fire.
    "Get us out and bear off to the left," Eustace ordered as soon as the cargo ramp was down. "Let's not waste any time."
    Under the best of circumstances, a Havoc did not accelerate with any great dispatch, but Karl gave the twin engines as much throttle as the treads could handle. If the deck of the cargo shuttle suffered minor damage from the speed of the departing howitzer, it wouldn't be the first time.
    "Basset two ready for action," Eustace reported to the battery commander as soon as he saw that Basset one was also out of its shuttle.
    "Ponks, I've got a personal message for you from the colonel," Captain Ritchey said.
    "Sir?" Ponks asked.
    "He wants me to thank you and your crew for volunteering to stay behind if we come up short one shuttle because some careless crew damaged it on landing."
    "I don't know what you're talking about, sir," Ponks managed. "We're strictly by the manual here."
    Ritchey sighed over the radio. "I ought to at least make you take the round out of the can you stuck in there while we were still in the air."
    "We would never violate SOP like that , sir," Ponks said, beginning to wonder if the Havocs had been modified to allow the battery commander to snoop.
    "Never mind, Ponks." Ritchey paused for no more than two seconds before he said, "We're still following the original plan. We go north, then east. And we wait for all of the dogs to get out before we start firing. Unless we come under hostile fire first."
    "Yes, sir." After closing his link to Ritchey, Ponks switched to the crew channel and whispered, "I think he's got us bugged."
    "You're gonna have to quit calling the old man names, I guess," Simon said with a short laugh. "You'll never get that extra rocker for your stripes."
    "Who wants another rocker?" Ponks said, as if he didn't. "The headaches ain't worth another twenty Corders a month."

CHAPTER THREE
    Rank offered no protection against the slippery moss of the drop zone. Like virtually every man who jumped with him, Colonel Van Stossen fell as soon as his feet touched the ground. Both feet went out from under him and he landed on his butt, hard. For more than a minute, he could do nothing but sit there, glassy-eyed, scarcely registering his surroundings.
    "You all right, sir?" the sergeant who commanded the headquarters security detachment asked. Vince Cumminhow scrambled toward the colonel on all fours. He also had fallen, but had managed to break his fall. He had jammed his left thumb in the process, but that was too minor an injury to worry about.
    Stossen nodded slowly. "I'm okay, Vin. Just had the air knocked out of me." He would never admit to the rather considerable ache in his seat or the headache that accompanied it. He blinked several times, trying to eliminate the sudden double vision. "What is this stuff?" He dragged his fingertips over the rust-colored growth.
    "Some kind of moss, I think, sir," Cumminhow said. "A little slimy."
    Stossen took time to look all of the way around a circle. His headquarters staff had, as always, landed in two separate groups several hundred meters apart, to make certain that no single enemy action or accident could completely cut off the 13th's leadership. Dezo Parks and the rest would join the colonel as quickly as they could now that everyone was on the ground.
    "This stuff's going to play hell with the schedule," Stossen muttered as he tried to get to his feet. After several false starts, he gave up for the time being. "Let's see if that red stuff over there offers better footing." The colonel and his companions had landed—after jumping on belts—within fifty meters of the western border of the rocks.
    "Has to be better than whatever this is," Cumminhow said.
    Stossen gave no further thought to dignity. He scampered along on hands and knees just as the others were. He needed ten minutes to get clear