THE CHOSEN by S.M. Stirling and David Drake

“It’s not a diplomatic reception, darling,” John said soothingly. “And I don’t think Jeff or Pierre will care much about appearances. Not after what you’ve been doing.”

The car that drew a trail of dust up the gravel road was much less elegant than John’s, although it was the same big six-wheeled model. It had patched bullet holes in several places, a few fresh ones, and three whip antennae waving overhead. Rock crunched under the wheels as it drew to a stop and stood, the engine pinging and wheezing as metal cooled and contracted. The men who climbed down were ragged and smelled strongly of stale sweat, and there was dust caked in the stubble on their faces.

Pierre Gerard drew himself up, saluted, and held out his pistol butt-first. “As representative of the Union del Est—” he began.

John took the weapon and reversed it, handing it back to the Union general. And head of state, don’t forget that, he reminded himself.

“General Gerard, as representative of the Republic of the Santander, it is my privilege to welcome you, your government, your armed forces and your people to our territory. I am instructed to assure you that you will all be welcome until the day when you can return to restore your country’s independence, and in the interim the government and people of the Republic will extend every aid, and every courtesy, within their power.”

He smiled and held out his hand. “That goes for me, too, of course, Pierre.”

The other man took his hand in a strong dry grip for an instant. Then he clicked heels and bent over Pia’s. “We’ve heard what you and your ladies have done for my people,” he said quietly. “We are in your debt, forever.”

“We’re in your debt,” John said. “You’ve been fighting the common enemy for five years. And you’ll see more fighting before long, if I’m any judge of events.”

Jeffrey Farr nodded. “Damned right.”

Both men twisted sharply at the sound of aircraft engine. The planes coming up the valley from the west were Hawk III’s, over a dozen of them. They relaxed.

“Most of the aircraft will be crossing further north,” Gerard said. “All the troops that are going to make it out here will be across by tomorrow. Except for the rearguard.”

John nodded with silent grimness. Those would have to fight where they were until overrun, to let the civilians and what was left of the Brigades and the Loyalist armies break contact and retreat over the border.

“The perimeter around Borreaux’s holding for now,” he said. “We’ve got ships shuttling continuously from there to Dubuk with refugees. Navy ships, too. My father created a precedent for that at Salini.”

Gerard smiled wryly. “Wars are not won by evacuations, however heroic,” he said.

John nodded. “I assume Jeffrey’s filled you in on the deployments for your troops?”

“Oui. Rather far forward.”

Jeffrey spread his hands in embarrassment. “If—when—the enemy attack, we’ll need men who can be relied on not to break,” he said. “The Brigades won’t, and neither will your men.”

Gerard nodded. “The civilians, though?”

“We’re setting up temporary camps around Alai, Ensburg, and Dubuk,” John said. “From there we’ll try to move people where there’s housing and jobs.”

Gerard looked down on the mass of humanity filling the great pass below and the roads to the east. “We come as beggars, but we can fight, and work. Everyone but the children and cripples will. We have a debt to collect, from Libert and his allies.” He spat the last word. “Does Libert know he’s a puppet, yet?”

John shook his head. “There’s an old saying,” he replied. “If you owe the bank a thousand and can’t pay, you’re in trouble. If you owe a million and can’t pay, the bank is in trouble. Libert and his army are saving the Chosen a great deal of trouble and expense, just by existing. I’m sure he’ll use that leverage.”

Jeffrey nodded. “I think that’s why the pursuit hasn’t been pressed more vigorously,” he said thoughtfully. “Libert wants us to get enough men over the border to be a standing menace. That means that the Chosen have to keep him on, or risk having the whole population go over to the Loyalist side who’re waiting to return. They don’t have enough troops in the Union to hold it down by themselves, not and keep an offensive capacity. Not yet, at least.”

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