We were in my bubble tent, squatting on the plastic floor like a quartet of Neolithic tribesmen. Again I was struck by the physical similarities among the officers. Sandy hair, freckles, sky blue eyes. Their skin was a light tan, almost golden, as if blended from all the races of Earth. Vorl and Frede could have almost been twin sisters. Quint, my second-in-command, their brother.
“We don’t have the manpower to hold the entire perimeter against them,” I said. “And we need another six hours before the blasted transceiver is operational. If we can trap a major part of their force and annihilate them, we might be able to break their attack and stay alive long enough to get the transceiver working.”
“What about reinforcements?” Quint asked.
I turned to Vorl, my communications officer.
“No reinforcements,” she said sullenly. “I worked my request all the way up to the admiral, and the damned lizard turned us down cold.”
“We have to hold on until the transceiver starts bringing in the heavy weapons,” I said, for about the twentieth time.
“But inviting the enemy to infiltrate down that gully…” Lieutenant Vorl shuddered.
“I agree,” said Quint. “It goes against standard tactical doctrine.”
“Lieutenant Frede, what’s your opinion?” I asked.
She shook her head, said nothing.
“All right, then,” I said. “Three against and one in favor. The ayes have it.”
They looked surprised, almost angry. But they took my orders without further grumbling. We spent the hours of twilight setting up our perimeter defenses and mining the gully. I placed a weak screen of automated rifles about a third of the way down the gully, just to give the enemy the impression that the gully was not totally unguarded. I did not want them to discover that they were in a trap until it was too late for them to escape. At the end of the gully, a scant fifty meters from the edge of the transceiver itself, I placed ten of the steadiest troops with Sergeant Manfred. If the enemy reached that far, they had to hold them until the rest of us could come to their aid.