DarkStar Running (Living on the Run Book 2) Read Free Page A

trusting him. Although the
desire to cross the border was Swift’s personal secret, he would know soon
enough whether Carl could be trusted with it. Treason was an ugly word, but if
thinking for oneself, opposite established norms, was treasonous, then both
Capt. Archer and Ensign Ogier were indeed traitors to their country.
    “Swift, sir?”
    “Yeah, Carl?”
    “I’ve got no desire to kill our own citizens. But I’ve got
no out . . . no solution.”
    “Tomorrow morning someone will die, Carl. It’s just that
simple.”
    “So it’s them or me, huh, Swift?”
    “Seems so, Carl. You’re flying my wing, so if you don’t pull
the trigger, DuMass will take you out. You can count on that.”
    Carl didn’t know what to say. What was there to say?
Cap was right. Tomorrow morning, bright and early, someone was going to die. But
did it have to be him? DuMass would be eager to get a little payback, and now
Carl was lined up in his crosshairs. The only possible way out of this mess— and
live —was to kill all seven of his fellow Wolverines . Carl balked at
that solution, even if it had been possible. He was a good pilot, better than
most . . . but was he that good? He didn’t think so. The
descriptive word for what he was thinking was “Turncoat,” a traitor to
everything he stood for; everything he held dear. The very reason he joined the
academy to begin with was to protect these things. Now his own government had
his back against the wall.
    He shook his head in disgust, and then looked up to find Swift
staring at him.
    “The question is simple, Carl. With whom do your true
loyalties lie? With the Confederation proletariat, or with the gentry?”
    With the people, or with the aristocracy? Carl’s roots were
well founded in the people, the commoners. But he had sworn allegiance to the
gentry.
    “The question may be simple, Swift, but the answer . . .
Well . . . Not so easy.”
    Swift’s tone changed from grave to grim. “Now you see what I
struggle with daily.”
    “Off the record, Swift?”
    “Just between you and me, Carl.”
    “Looks like I’m going to take a bullet on this one, sir. Our
motto speaks my heart.”
    Swift looked at Carl in utter dismay. The Wolverine Squad’s motto was Die with Honor . Two years back, Swift himself had
chosen the motto to show the spirit of his first and newly commissioned squad.
    “Are you really willing to let Troglodyte leaders make landfall,
Carl? The contamination would spread exponentially. Is there honor in letting
that happen?”

Chapter Three
    A mission. This is just another mission, Stan told himself
to calm growing doubts, but it didn’t work. He couldn’t square the downing of a
luxury liner on the mere suspicion that Trogs might be aboard her.
    Had he retired a week ago, Stan thought, or even a day ago,
this headache would have belonged to someone else . . . if it existed
at all.
    He released a long held breath. This was his responsibility
and, like it or not, it was his place to make a good showing.
    With his men lined up behind him, Stan started down the
metal catwalk that crossed the spines of the Darts , all of his men
displaying a stiff military bearing, but all the pomp and ceremony in the world
couldn’t mask what he and his Wolverines , were about to do.
    As the march continued, each man stopped at his own ship.
When, last of all, Stan stopped at his, every man turned in unison toward the
nose of his own Dart and walked toward his cockpit. Once there, each man
turned to face his ship with a singular snap.
    “Wolverines,” Stan shouted. “Mount up!”
    Each man climbed down into his craft.
    In unison every canopy slid into place, the bay lights went
dark, and the huge launch door slid down, out of the way of the eight Dart fighters, to reveal the sun cresting Atheron. Between Atheron and their
transport sat the Emperor’s Princess .
    Sitting black against the dark backdrop of Atheron, the
luxury liner was defined only by the light of