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ventilated cargo containers that surrounded the base of the slavers’ three-story structure. The
slavers had lined the outer ring of these containers with Detonite blocks, perhaps as a defense against ground assault or perhaps to destroy all witness to their crimes if the Republic presence is
detected.
    As expected, the storm has deterred active sweeps of the building perimeter, and the slavers have recalled most of their forces to the first ring of buildings. Only perimeter
sensors and a skeleton crew of patrols are responsible for the security of the slave pens.
    Captain Arahad is silent for a moment, then says, “We stick to the plan. Secure the captives, then we proceed with Sanction.”
    Then Lt. Marako, a tall, lanky veteran of the Anti-Spinward Insurrections, asks a question in his reedy tenor. “What about the three signals we saw on
insertion?”
    Captain Arahad looks at Captain Delgado and says, “We can take one.”
    Captain Delgado says, “I can take another.”
    “And the third?”
    “Let’s hope he waits his turn.”
     
    ORDINANCE
    It is one month before the final phase of Oplan Sanction, and Captain Arahad sits in the communications room of the
R.P.S. Artemis
, facing a luminite screen. The
flickering, drain-drenched image of Captian Delgado on the screen limns Captain Arahad’s features in shades of blue and indigo. Behind Captain Arahad, Omniskin-clad communicants methodically
adjust a shifting tapestry of glowing filaments, patiently extracting the voice of Captain Delgado from a sea of Omniwave static.
    “Nulid, this is Rayom. Link established, ” says the image of Captain Delgado.
    “Rayom, Nulid. Link secured,” responds the smaller, slightly leaner communicant who promptly nods to Captain Arahad.
    “Captain Delgado, I’m Arahad—Captain of Task Force Sanction. Your report?”
    “Storm is unusually stable and hasn’t moved. Must assume Remergent involvement, but I’m not sure how.”
    “Yes, yes,” says Captain Arahad as he leans closer to the screen, “but can the Artemis proceed with General Order 18?”
    “Negative, Captain. Too much particulate matter is being kicked up by the storm for precision laser bombardment.”
    Captain Arahad swears softly, then asks: “No chance you can lase the targets for orbit-to-surface missiles?”
    “I can, but they’ve rigged the slave pens with detonite blocks. I count at least three slavers here with remote detonators. Captain Arahad, I’m sorry but
you’re going to have to come down.”
    Captain Delgado waits for a response from Captain Arahad. Hearing none, he continues: “Captain, I can’t do this alone.”
     
    ASSAULT
    It is 08-08-2108 at 0845 according to the Terran Standard Chronometer, and Captain Delgado is picking his way quietly through the underbrush just meters ahead of the Captain
Arahad. They round at the edge of the ravine, shrouded by the foliage of the jungle, and signal the team behind them to stop.
    Captain Arahad regards Captain Delgado for a long minute before sheathing his standard issue Moroblade, and pulls out his own hand-held signal tracker and switches it on. He
looks up, catches Captain Delgado’s eyes and raises his other hand to sign: THREE.
    Captain Delgado nods, and signs: SPLIT. PINCER. I TAKE RIGHT.
    Captain Arahad shakes his head and signs: NO. YOU STAY. WE PINCER.
    Without waiting for Delgado’s response, he signs quickly to his team and they fan smoothly into position. Captain Delgado watches quietly as Captain Arahad veers to the
left with Sgt. Jun Oppus, a dark, squat Fusionlancer, and Handcannon Specialists Bert Tanada and Ferdie Anghel. He turns to watch Lt. Pol Marako, charge to the right along the exposed edge of the
ravine along with Republic Ground Scouts Ayel Torres, and Esteban Orro. Then he activates his stealth suit and melts into the surrounding greenery.
     
    TROUBLE
    It is 08-08-2108 at 0915 and something is wrong: Lt. Marako finds that the Detonite blocks that line each