by Mel Odom
Anger tightened Leghef’s throat, but she made herself speak. “I’m sorry you had to see that.”
Telilu hugged Leghef again. “I wanted to go for help, but they wouldn’t let me.”
“These are not good men.”
“I know that. They are friends with the bug men, and the bug men have been killing people in the streets and in their homes. I never liked them, but I hate them now.”
A sharp stab of pain shot through Leghef’s heart. Her granddaughter’s innocence had been ripped away so casually, and it was something she had fought all her life to protect.
Now it looked like Telilu’s innocence wouldn’t be the only thing that Leghef couldn’t protect.
“They’re going to be sorry when Noojin finds out I’ve been taken,” Telilu promised.
“Noojin?” Leghef tried to make sense of that.
“Yes,” Telilu said with confidence that astounded Leghef as they stood in the midst of men and aliens who would do them harm. “Noojin will know I have been taken, and probably that you’ve been taken, and she will tell Jahup. Then they will get the master sergeant and bring the Terran soldiers to save us.”
Before she could ask her granddaughter how Noojin would know she had been taken, much less where she was, Tholak approached her. The sight of his swollen, injured face gladdened Leghef’s heart.
Unconsciously, Leghef slid Telilu behind her, not wanting the girl anywhere around Tholak.
“I brought you here to talk to our people,” Tholak said as he stood before her.
“I have nothing to say to them,” Leghef said.
Impatience tightened Tholak’s features, and the injury made his scowl lopsided. “You’re going to say what I tell you to say.”
Leghef ignored him.
“You’re going to tell them,” Tholak went on, “to come out of the jungle and submit themselves to the Phrenorians so that they can live.”
“I will not!”
Tholak acted as though he hadn’t heard and pressed on. “You’re going to tell them that the Phrenorians will be generous, that living directed, useful lives—”
“As slaves!”
“—will be better than dying out here,” Tholak went on. “And you will address the Terran Alliance. You will tell them that we reject their offer of help. They are to order the soldiers here to depart from Makaum and stop battling the Phrenorians until such time that arrangements can be made to ship the soldiers offplanet.”
Rage filled Leghef so that she couldn’t have spoken if she wanted to. She knew Tholak was lying. Or the Phrenorians were lying. Master Sergeant Sage, Colonel Halladay, none of those brave soldiers would be allowed to slip away. The Phrenorians wouldn’t permit it. They would make examples of them, things to frighten their enemies with.
Finally, she could speak. “You do this here, Tholak? Here where our ancestors came together, set aside their differences, and sacrificed themselves so that we might live as one community against all the death that continually stalks us on this world?”
“Our people will know this place,” Tholak said. “They will respect what you say here.”
“They are fleeing for their lives.”
Tholak frowned. “And we have to stop that. You know as well as I do that our people have grown too soft to live out here. If they don’t have a home, and the Phrenorians are generously offering them one, they will die.”
Even as she wanted to argue, Leghef knew it was true.
“Now,” Tholak said, “let’s go. You have a vid to make and we’ve got to make certain it reaches the right hands.”
He nodded to Osler and the big man shoved Leghef deeper into the cave. All the old fears of ghosts and darkness crowded in on her as she walked to the back of the cave.
The Glass Dead were there, and she shivered as she remembered how they had looked when she was just a girl.
FIFTY-SIX
Nyslora Lowlands Airspace
19 Kilometers North of Makaum Sprawl
317556 Akej (Phrenorian Prime)
Seated in the troop section of the transport aircraft, Zhoh used relaxation techniques his combat instructors had taught him in his first year of training to get himself focused to take the lives of other warriors in the heat of battle. He held his patimong in his top secondaries, crossed his primaries over his chest, and concentrated on the feel of the smooth grain of the daravgane the weapon had been forged from.
The blade will not fail.
The warrior will not fail.
The battle plan will not fail.
That was the most basic foundation of the Warrior’s Code. Everything worked together, like primaries and secondaries, like chelicerae and tail, like blade and poison.
Centered, he took out his handheld viewer and studied the terrain below the transport aircraft. Endless emerald jungle streamed in all directions. Winged lizards skated along the treetops. Only the GPS pin let him know where their destination was.
He put the device back in his harness and glanced at the warriors belted into the transport section around him. All of them sat quiet and resolute. They were better trained than the raucous Terran soldiers Zhoh had seen. He believed in their abilities and their training.
Still, Zhoh knew that even though those Terran soldiers remained individuals, they could become a cohesive force. Master Sergeant Sage had commanded them in such a manner and brought them to a single purpose.
Fighting alongside Sage after the Cheapdock debacle had been surprisingly fulfilling.
Killing Sage and mastering Makaum would be more fulfilling.
Mato buzzed for his attention over the comm.
“Yes,” Zhoh responded.
“There is an encrypted communication coming in from General Belnale,” Mato said. “I have no idea what it is about.”
That surprised Zhoh. Comms aboard a transport ship weren’t hardened enough to ensure no one would intercept exchanges. General Belnale was taking a risk.
“You told him where I was?” Zhoh asked.
“He already knew, triarr, and the general became even more insistent that I put him in contact with you when he learned your location.”
“You told him my intent?”
“No. But I think he knows.”
Zhoh thought about that, and he didn’t like where his suspicions led him. Abandoning his leadership role in the attack on Fort York and going after Nalit and Warar wasn’t something Belnale would approve.
“Triarr?”
Zhoh realized he’d gotten locked in his own thoughts. “Put General Belnale through.”
“At once.”
Almost immediately, General Belnale’s voice boomed into Zhoh’s hearing. “General Zhoh, turn that ship around and return your attentions to the battle against Fort York.”
“I can’t do that.”
Belnale hissed his displeasure. “You cannot undo what is being done.”
“Do you know that my lieutenant colonels have deserted their posts?” Zhoh asked.
“Yes.”
“Do you know why?”
Belnale hesitated, and Zhoh knew the answer was going to be bad.
“They are following their orders, General,” Belnale said.
“What orders? The orders they should be following came from me.”
“They have other orders.”
“What are those orders?” Zhoh demanded, but he knew. He only wanted it spoken aloud.
Belnale didn’t hesitate then, and he didn’t mince words. “They’re making arrangements with a Makaum being to negotiate surrender of the planet to the Phrenorian Empire.”
“I am going to take this planet.”
“There is doubt, General Zhoh, of your competency.”
Zhoh’s anger mounted. His pheromones stank of it. “I will kill any warrior that dares say I am incompetent.”
“As would I. And maybe you’ll get your chance. But until such time occurs, you have to follow orders.”
“Who are Nalit and Warar meeting with?”
“A being who says he can unite the Makaum beings.”
“Are you talking about Tholak?” Zhoh could scarcely utter the man’s name.
“Yes.”
Zhoh had to respect General Belnale’s candor. Lying was something a Phrenorian only did as a combat strategy when dealing with an opponent.
Only a true Phrenorian, Zhoh amended. Nalit and Warar were not, by his standards, true Phrenorians.
“Who gave those spineless cridelrad this order?” Zhoh asked.
“The Prime War Board,” Belnale answered. “I was not part of that decision. I was outvoted.” He spat and cursed. “I don’t like the way the other generals are choosing to win this war. This way, negotiating and subterfuge, is not . . .”
“This way is not honorable,” Zhoh said, because he knew his superior couldn’t bring himself to denounce the action of his fellow generals in such a manner. Zhoh had no such compunctions. “We don’t win wars through deception, General Belnale. We win them through martial superiority and determination. Straightforward things. That is what makes a Phrenorian warrior. We are not diplomats.”
“This was my objection as well, General Zhoh, and I went on record to state that. But we have taken losses in the war with the Terrans lately that have been unexpected. The majority of the War Board wants to deliver a planet, that planet, as a symbol of our power, and to show other planets why we are to remain feared.”
“Then it should be done the right way!”
“The War Board fears they have made a mistake.”
“What mistake?” Zhoh demanded.
“They allowed you to lead the army there.”
Zhoh took a moment to collect himself. “They did not choose me. I won the honor of leading this army by right of combat.”
Belnale spoke plainly. “The Alliance believes you lied about the assassination attempt on your life and started the war on Makaum for your own purposes.”
Zhoh couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “What purposes?”
“To regain your lost honor.”
“I didn’t lose my honor,” Zhoh protested. “It was stripped from me.”
“The story being told is that you hired your own assassin and have tried to pin it on Blaold Oldawe.”
Zhoh’s mind spun. So that was what this was about. A last-ditch effort to save Blaold Oldawe’s name and family honor. He cursed himself for getting blindsided.
“That’s not true,” he said, but he knew it was true if the War Board said it was true.
“The assassin is currently in the hands of the Terrans,” Belnale went on.
“The War Board is saying the Terrans can make the man say anything,” Zhoh said. Dread closed in on him.
“The War Board doesn’t want that story being told. They want to control what is being told.”
“What is their story?”
“That you hired your own assassin to start the war and regain your honor, then implicated Blaold Oldawe to strike back at him for naming you kalque.”
Zhoh’s thoughts spun dizzyingly.
“The War Board also faults you for losing the stockpile of weapons that were on Makaum,” Belnale continued. “Their story will be that you accumulated those weapons to become wealthy, then let the edge you had to win this war slip through your primaries.”
“I didn’t stockpile those weapons.”
“You didn’t tell the War Board about them,” Belnale accused.
Zhoh could say nothing in his defense that would reflect on him honorably. He had not told because that was the dishonorable thing to do.
“I know why you didn’t say anything,” Belnale said. “You wanted to protect the Empire.”
Zhoh ran his secondaries over his patimong and tried to regain himself. “Yes. That is exactly why I said nothing. I have not lost this war. I can still win it. I am winning it. Fort York can’t stand.”
“The Alliance is shifting. If they do, if they send warships to Makaum, the ships we have there won’t be able to stand against them. And the Empire doesn’t want to lose any more dreadnoughts. There have been too many losses in other places. On top of that, Makaum must be taken. The Empire needs that planet’s resources to beef up their armies and navies.”
“Then I will get it for them.”
“General Zhoh, the War Board has already chosen its champions.”
Zhoh saw what Belnale was not saying in that moment. “I’m not going to be allowed to win this war.”
“No,” Belnale said. “That honor will go to Nalit and Warar.”
Anger filled the air around Zhoh. “Warriors who work in the shadows with beings who betray their own kind,” he snarled. “Is this who we are becoming?”
“The war costs the Empire,” Belnale said. “They want to win by any means necessary.”
“Even at the cost of honor?”
“They plan to keep their honor,” Belnale said. “If this tactic doesn’t succeed, they will place the blame for the loss on you.”
Zhoh couldn’t believe it. “To save Nalit and Warar.”
“They come from important families. Their honor must be kept intact for the good of the Empire.”
“I am kalque,” Zhoh said. “Worthless because I chose to mate with the wrong person.”
“You chose that female so you could move up in the Empire,” Belnale stated bluntly. “Instead of making your way up the hierarchy on your own, you chose a shortcut.”
The words hammered Zhoh because he knew that was true. He had brought that dishonor—Sxia and their feeble brood—onto himself.
And that dishonor had grown.
Desperation, something that was so new to him that he almost didn’t recognize it, ate through Zhoh like acid.
“Do the right thing,” Belnale urged. “Go back. Take your place in the battle with Fort York. If you die there, you will know honor again.”
“And if I don’t?”
“It would be better for the Empire if you did, Zhoh.”
“Because the Empire will still get their scapegoat if the battle for Makaum is lost, and—should Tholak truly get the Makaum beings to agree to side with the Empire—I will no longer be an embarrassment.”
“Yes.”
Zhoh thought furiously and knew those were not the only two options. “No, there is another way.”
“Zhoh—”
Zhoh broke the comm connection and took a moment to himself. Then he said, “Mato?”
“Yes, triarr?” Mato was quiet.
“You heard?”
“Yes.”
“I am not going to die quietly for the Empire,” Zhoh said. “I am a warrior. I was born to fight. I choose to fight. I will fight the Empire if I must to regain what was taken from me by those who did not deserve to do so.”
“I will fight with you, triarr.”
Zhoh knew that it wasn’t loyalty that bound Mato to him in that moment. It was his own survival. As Zhoh’s second, Mato would be held accountable for Zhoh’s “failures” as well. He would be reduced to kalque.
“Good,” Zhoh said. “Then let’s win this war and claim our glory. We’ll take it from the Empire itself if we have to.”
FIFTY-SEVEN
Dropship John Lee
Makaum Space
0834 Hours Zulu Time
Once it hit the Makaum atmosphere, the dropship bounced like a rock skipping water. At least that was how it felt to Noojin as she clung to the webbing that held her in her seat. The fact that she would die in an atmosphere rather than the vacuum of space was oddly comforting.
For a moment she thought the Phrenorian gunship had finally gotten a target lock on them and was in the process of chipping away at the dropship’s armor, but the John Lee had escaped.
“The Sting-Tail gunship is falling back,” the dropship pilot whooped. “He doesn’t want any part of the gravity well in that ship.”
“We’re due for some good news,” Kiwanuka said.
Noojin relaxed a little and hoped that meant the
y might reach ground safely. But even as she thought that, she remembered that the fort was under attack and the Makaum sprawl was a battlefield. She wanted to see Jahup, and in the next instant she realized she didn’t know if he was even still alive.
A moment later, the dropship leveled out and became tolerable except for the lesser gravity as the John Lee controlled the long fall to the ground far below. Then they would be in the thick of it.
Kiwanuka opened a link to the fort and Noojin listened in.
“Attention, Command. This is Sergeant Kiwanuka aboard the dropship John Lee. We’re returning from space and are seeking orders.”
“Good to know you’re still alive, Sergeant Kiwanuka,” a woman said.
“Thank you, Command.”
Noojin scanned the intel feeds on her HUD as her armor relinked to the ground-based satellites and she tried not to be sick. The fort had taken critical losses and couldn’t possibly hold up much longer without some kind of assistance.
“Colonel Halladay left standing orders that you were to be transferred over to him as soon as you showed back up,” the woman said. “I’m connecting you now.”
Kiwanuka continued scrolling and the reflections glowed softly against her face inside her helmet.
When the yellow dot first showed up on Noojin’s HUD, she thought it was one of the links to Fort York. Then Telilu’s name flashed under it and she remembered the doll and the transponder she had given to the girl.
Telilu was only supposed to use it if she were in trouble.
Noojin tried to connect with Quass Leghef’s home, but the ping failed to go through. Noojin had forgotten about the scenes of destruction still playing on her HUD. When she looked at all the fires and destroyed buildings where the sprawl had once stood, her stomach cramped and she wept silently to herself. Fearfully, she opened the signal and tracked the source, expecting to find it somewhere in the craters and fallen buildings below.
But it wasn’t there. It was way north of the sprawl and out into the jungle, and that made no sense.
Something else has gone wrong!
With that realization sharp in her thoughts, Noojin approached Kiwanuka.