Terminator Salvation: From the Ashes by Timothy Zahn

resupply—” John began.
    “I’m sorry, Connor,” the other cut him off again. “There’s another call coming in that I have to take. Good luck.”
    The radio went dead. For a couple of seconds John stared at the mike, his face giving away nothing of what Kate knew was going on behind it. Then he stirred, reaching over and shutting off his transmitter. He glanced once at his wife, then turned to the group huddled silently around him.
    “Well,” he said calmly. “Looks like we’re on our own.”
    No one said anything. Kate looked around the room, her eyes touching in turn each of the faces she knew so well.
    Fifty-four. There were fifty-four of them, now that Piccerno was gone: forty-two adults, plus six teens and four children under ten who the realities of life had put on the fast track to adulthood.
    There were also, at last count, two babies.
    Most of the adults were seasoned, hardened fighters who had been with her and John for years, and on their faces Kate could see only small flickers of concern or annoyance. Hard experience had taught them that disconnecting from their emotions as much as possible was the easiest way to make it through the life they’d been given.
    The half-dozen civilians hadn’t yet learned that lesson. Their eyes were wide with disbelief, fear, and the beginnings of quiet panic, particularly the babies’ mothers. They weren’t fighters, and probably never would be.
    They were with the group for the simple reason that there had been nowhere else for them to go.
    Predictably, it was Barnes who finally broke the silence.
    “That sucks,” he declared.
    As if that was the signal everyone else had been waiting for, a rustling of murmurs erupted across the room. Kate caught snatches of some of the conversations, curses or pithy complaints 26
    lifting themselves briefly out of the general buzz. John let it run for a few seconds, then cleared his throat.
    The room went instantly silent.
    “You can’t blame Command for their decision,” he said calmly. “They have limited resources, and they have to do triage, like anyone else does.”
    “With all due respect, sir,” Barnes said, “I think that’s a load of—” He glanced sideways at two of the children standing near him “—I think that’s ridiculous. Some of us have been fighting this damn war longer than Command’s even been in operation.”
    “They’re career brass,” someone from the back of the room put in sourly. “History doesn’t matter, potential doesn’t matter. All they care about is what you’ve done for them lately.”
    “I had a boyfriend like that once,” Blair Williams murmured.
    “Not for long, I’ll bet,” Tunney said.
    Blair sniffed loudly.
    “Shelf life of an egg.”
    A general chuckle ran through the assembly, and Kate sensed some of the tension fade away.
    As usual, John was right on top of it, ready to take advantage of the altered mood.
    “Simmons is right,” he said. “What counts is not whether we’ve delivered in the past, but whether we can continue to deliver. This is the ultimate in natural selection, where the weak not only die, but die very quickly. Command can’t waste supplies, or risk being compromised, by a group that isn’t going to make it anyway.”
    Barnes muttered something under his breath.
    “Well, if they think we’re gonna just roll over and die, they’re full of—” He glanced at the children again. “You know?”
    “Absolutely,” John agreed. “They want us to deliver? Fine. We’ll deliver.” He straightened up in his chair, his eyes flashing with sudden fire. “And we’re going to deliver so spectacularly that they will never, ever write us off again. Whether they like it or not.”
    Kate looked around, watching with a never-waning fascination as John’s words, character, and unshakable strength of purpose quieted a room full of fear and despair and uncertainty. They would succeed, because John knew they would.
    “What’s the plan, sir?” David