Patriots in Arms by P-HarpercollinsPubl


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									Patriots in Arms
Scott St. Andrew

Author: Ben Weaver

An explosive new military space adventure from the author of Rebels in Arms, in the tradition of David
Weber and David Feintuch.Scott St. Andrew has managed to escaped the hellish mining colony that was
his home world, joining the Corps and fighting to save the Seventeen Worlds. Aided by an alien
technology that makes him the best of the best--and simultaneously destroys him--Scott has dedicated
his life to saving the free worlds. Now one of the enigmatic Wardens--a covert group that may hold the
key to the saving the government--Major St. Andrew is sent back to the harsh moon where he trained,
and to the alien caves that could save his life. But enemy forces and countermeasures make the mission
unbelievably difficult, and divided loyalties hold the officer at a knife's edge. Scott has faced many tough
decisions, but when a traitor's betrayal puts him into a POW camp, he faces the hardest choice of his
life--save the woman he loves, or the world he's sworn to protect?

The news reports all that morning had focusedon the treaty violations and on the possibilitythat
negotiations between the Colonial Alliance andTerran Alliances were about to break off. Nearly
everycorrespondent on Rexi-Calhoon wanted to scoop thestory, and even as I boarded my skipshuttle,
bound forRexicity and the capitol building, at least a dozen ofthem stood at the tarmac fence, hollering
questions.Bren Dublin, senior officer of my personal securityteam, warded them off in his usual baritone,
with aboutas much diplomacy as a man waving a particle rifle."Colonel St. Andrew will issue a statement
to the mediaat his convenience -- not yours!""What's the matter, Bren?" I asked as he slammed thehatch
and dropped his mammoth frame into the jumpseat beside me."I don't like these people," he groaned,
then scratchedhis graying beard. His tone turned deadly serious. "Youcan't trust them."Tat, Ysarm, and
Jiggs, my other bodyguards, sat behindus, wriggling in their designer suits and probably wishing I hadn't
asked them to look their very best. The three officers, all in their thirties, all South Point graduates,had
over forty years' military experience between them, yet they, like Bren, had never seen real combat. I
hoped they never would."I'll tell you why Bren doesn't trust reporters," said Tat, the tallest of the group, a
dark-skinned bird of aman with eyes nearly as small and definitely as keen."He's never told you about his
ex."Bren gave Tat a fiery look that silenced the junior officer."I don't know," I began. "I'm not sure if you
can trust them, but years ago a reporter saved my life.""Six-seven-niner, copy. Cleared for departure,"
interrupted our pilot, who glanced back from the cockpit,his head draped in the translucent energy bands
of hiscommunications skin. "Colonel St. Andrew? ETA to thecapitol building will be approximately nine
minutes. Your tablet's up and running, so if there's any news you care to look at, it's there.""Thank you,
Lieutenant, but today I don't plan onwatching the news -- I plan on making it.""Yes, sir."With a hum and
an appreciable rumble, the skipshuttlelifted off. As the G force drove me deeper into my seat, I glanced
through a window at the reporters, some of who were delivering remarks and observations to their
floatcams. I suspected that as they spoke, images of me boarding the shuttle were beaming out to all
nine hundred million people on Rexi-Calhoon and were also being tawted out to the billions of others
watching on all seventeen worlds and in the Sol system. That kind of media exposure scared the hell out
of me, but it came with the territory these days. I shivered and turned back to Bren, thought of querying
further about his ex, but his head hung low, his expression dark.Ahead of us lay Rexicity, one of Rexi-
Calhoon's sixprimary colonies. It was situated fourteen hundred kilometers south of Columbia Colony,
and its skyscrapersrose up from an expansive valley to pierce a mantle of brown haze. The downtown
district reeked of somethingoily and burned, a stench that often had me reachingfor my breather."Aw,
shit, look at that," said Bren, cocking a thumbat his window. Just off our starboard wing streaked
twonews shuttles, their logos flashing on their fuselages."They want to capture every moment -- even our
routineflight. They call this news?""As long as they stay out of our zone, they have aright to be out there,"
I said. "And Bren, are you allright?""Fine, sir.""I don't believe you." My tablet beeped. I withdrewthe small
computer from my seat pocket, keyed it on.My executive assistant, Davyd...
Author Bio
Ben Weaver
Benjamin Andrew Weaver is a military scholar, astronomer, and armchair physicist with a keen interest in
weapons technology, quantum theory, and the search for extrasolar planets. He spent four years
conceiving, researching, and writing the first two Scott St. Andrew novels, Brothers in Arms and Rebels in
Arms, from his home in Central Florida.Readers are invited to email him at

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