He is trying not to communicate. Aank answered without giving any outward indication that he was addressing Eli. He repeats his name, which is Ah-loon, the ship’s name—Captive Taker One—and his position on board. Apparently, he is a “senior catch sorter.” Those items of information are all he is allowed to provide should he be captured. Unfortunately for Ah-loon, I don’t need verbal answers. His thoughts are very clear.
You know where our soldiers are being held?
Aank turned away from the still-chattering Zrthn and spoke to Eli.
“All captured human and Minith soldiers are being held in pens on the deck below this one. The doorways on the far side of the room lead the way.”
The Waa sent Eli a mental picture so he would know exactly where to go and what to expect. Moving floors, similar to the one that brought them into this area, delivered inert prisoners to large round doorways set into the floor. The doorways were opened, and prisoners were unceremoniously dumped into holding pens below. To Eli, the process seemed inhumane and disrespectful. It was obvious the Zrthns considered their prisoners chattel—property to be collected, processed, and stored.
“The command center for the ship is one deck above. The ship is manned by relatively few Zrthn troops,” Aank said.
“How many is relatively few?”
“The Zrthn was not specific, but less than two dozen. None are heavily armed and most are support personnel, like Ah-loon and his sort team.” Aank waved toward the sputtering alien and his now-dead crew, tucked his hands into the sleeves of his robe.
“All right,” Eli nodded. “That’s enough to get us started.”
Chapter 23
Benson paced back and forth along the long hallway of the ship, the solitary man in a long line of Minith walkers. The forgiving, spongelike matting beneath his feet squished as he walked, but he had learned to mostly ignore the strange surface. The fact that his armor protected his feet and legs from the damp flooring helped. He didn’t know how the alien warriors who shambled along the hallway around him could bear the stuff. Most complained constantly, and he couldn’t blame them. They had been trapped here for a lot longer than he had, and most were experiencing some form of ear mold, foot rot, or any number of other health concerns—all because of the constant, dank humidity that surrounded them. Flocking squids and their crudding soggy enviro!
He reached the end of the long hallway and did an about-face, robotically retracing the now-familiar path. He had silently watched the Minith captives for a full day before joining their line of movement. He didn’t know what drove the Minith to move, but he was able to keep the pain of the suit at bay through action, so he fell in line.
He mulled over their situation as he paced, anxious to think of something he might have overlooked. They had tried everything they could imagine to find a way out of the hold where their captors had dumped them. After releasing the humans and the Minith from their rooms two days earlier, the group had searched for, but failed to find, a way to leave their current position. The Zrthn prisoner ship was well designed in that manner. Although they had escaped the individual rooms where they had been locked away, leaving this portion of the ship had proved impossible. The long hallway, with all of its doors, led nowhere. With the exception of the initial exam room where he had awoken and killed the three aliens, the rest of this level was nothing more than a succession of more empty holding rooms. There had to be an entrance to the exam room, but he couldn’t find it.
Apparently, the only way in or out appeared to be through circular, shutterlike panels set into the high ceiling of each room. Benson had never seen them function, but had been told new arrivals dropped into the pens through those entrances.
He was able to reach the ceiling by leaping upward, with the aid of his armor, but could find no way to open the shutters. Beating against the panels proved useless and, despite repeated jumps, his inspections revealed no way to open the doorways from this side. All he accomplished was to drain the already diminished power levels in his suit.
He was down to 10 percent charge and wondered how best to use the remaining battery life. Ramming the walls in order to break through to a far side seemed ill advised. They were obviously made from agsel, which meant any attempt was doomed to failure. Even if he was successful at penetrating the wall, how did he know he wouldn’t be damaging an outer hull?
A clamor from the direction of the cell he had first opened drew his attention. Was that cheering he heard?
He and the Minith around him raced toward the sound and, upon reaching the intersection at the far end of the hallway, turned toward the human holding cell. At the end of the short hallway, stepping from the room at the end where his human peers waited, was another armored PEACE suit. Benson could only watch as the suit approached.
“Benson, what the flock are you doing?” the suit challenged. He recognized the voice but his mind almost refused to believe what he was hearing. “You wanted to become the first Shiale Ranger to get captured by the Zrthns, huh?”
“EJ?” Benson felt as though someone had doused him with a bucket full of cold water. “Are you here to rescue us, or have you been taken?”
“Rescue, Lieutenant Benson. Rescue!”
“Well, it certainly took you long enough,” First Sergeant Twigg growled menacingly from behind Benson. “I can’t take another minute being stuck on this damp excuse for a ship.”
“First Sergeant, I hate to be the bearer of bad news,” Eli replied. “But we have another stop or two to make before we’re done here.”
“Do I get to twist a Zrthn neck, at least?”
The captain smiled and nodded. “Perhaps, First Sergeant. Perhaps.”
“Then, please. Lead the way.”
* * *
Colonel Drah marched quickly through the hallway that led to his superior’s office. As he moved, he considered the steps that had already been taken. He could not help but feel satisfied with the progress so far. He only had one remaining task to accomplish before his final plans could begin.
The warriors that were loyal to his cause—casting off the shackles of the human-led alliance and fostering a new Minith resurgence—were already in place. At over a thousand strong, the relationships and affirmations that bound them together had been carefully cultivated over the past two years. It hadn’t been easy to identify, recruit, and place so many of his fellow warriors into crucial positions, but he had pushed forward knowing the Zrthns would support his movement. In fact, their support was a critical step in its success. Taking and holding Telgora would be relatively easy once the wave grew and started its inevitable crest. That was no concern.
Drah was confident that an upswell of Minith pride and aggression would help sweep away the fraudulent “alliance” that he and his people had been forced to endure for the past twelve years. Even those Minith who knew nothing of what was about to take place would join his ranks—with both speed and ancestral enthusiasm—once they understood what was happening.
The forces and capabilities that remained on Waa were the only real concern. Would the Minith there support his movement and join it, or would they remain blindly obedient to the human leadership that they currently bowed before? He did not know, and that’s where the Zrthns came in. He needed their support and recognition to ensure Waa remained a nonissue. Once he solidified his hold here on Telgora, not even the forces of Waa would be able to unseat them.
He grumbled for a moment over the favorable trade terms he had agreed to with Oinoo. The agsel sales would provide an influx of wealth and influence to his new dominion, but he was nearly giving the ore away. He considered the potential for renegotiating once his hold on the planet was secure. He decided it would be needed and smiled at the thought of alienating his new alliance. Oh well. Such were the circumstances of trade and profit. For now, though, the future trade arrangement was but a minor detail. His primary goal was to break the subservient hold that these weak, puny humans had placed upon his race.
He
approached the doorway of General Tuun’s office and paused briefly outside the large, wooden doors to clear his thoughts. He had been in this place hundreds of times over the past two years. Unlike previous visits, he ignored protocol and did not offer the perfunctory quiet tap-tap-tap that announced his intention to enter. Instead, he simply grabbed the handle with his left paw, gave a quick twist, and threw the door inward.
General Tuun, his superior in the Alliance Defense Force, raised his head, obviously startled by the sudden intrusion into his private work space.
“Drah! What’s the—”
He got no further with the thought or the words behind it. The blast from the pulse pistol in Drah’s right paw made sure of that.
Coup d état, Drah reminded himself. That was the human phrase for his act of deathly insubordination. Such funny, foreign words that made no sense at all. He much preferred the Minith equivalents of “mutiny,” “overthrow,” or—his personal favorite—“taking what is rightfully mine.”
Regardless of what one called it, he was enormously pleased with how simple and fulfilling it had been to complete the final task on his list.
Now, the real fun could begin.
He pulled the communication device from the bag tied to his waist belt and activated the send mechanism.
“We will be ready in six hours.”
* * *
Eli and the eighty rangers—forty human and forty Minith—were currently holding position at the base of a long, winding ramp that led upward to the first deck and the command center of the ship. Aank’s mental interrogation of Ah-loon was thorough, and he had passed all the info he received, via mind speak, to Eli. Although he had never been aboard the ship before today, Eli knew what lay ahead and what to expect. He marveled at the ease with which it had been accomplished, but Ah-loon’s knowledge had been transferred directly into his head.
It is not an exact transference, but should suffice, Captain.
Oh, yes. Aank was also with them. Now that Eli understood how important the tiny engineer could be, he wanted him close. But not too close. He stood near the rear of the assembled group where he could be protected.
We are secure here, Captain. The closest potential combatant is at the top of this ramp.
Thank you, Aank.
Eli shook his head and briefly wondered why the soldiers were even necessary when the Alliance had the ability to read the enemy’s minds.
We are nonviolent, and only wish to serve.
Okay, Aank. Enough of the running commentary. I don’t expect an answer to every unspoken question.
Eli couldn’t see it, but he somehow felt the Waa’s eyelids slide slowly and deliberately down over the large black eyes. Once. Twice. The blinks carried a hint of offended annoyance at the slight rebuke. Eli smiled. He couldn’t help but wonder if all Waa were as sensitive. The absence of two more mental blinks probably indicated they weren’t, and he felt a twinge of guilt.
I’m sorry, Aank. Just feeling a bit anxious about the current situation.
A rush of soothing calmness quickly settled his thoughts, and Eli understood at once the feeling had come from the Waa and that he was forgiven. He silently thanked the engineer and focused on the present situation.
“How’s it coming, Benson?”
“Almost there, Captain. Just a minute or so to go.”
As soon as they were retrieved from the holding pens, Eli sent the Alliance soldiers who had been held captive back through the portal to Rhino-3. The weeks aboard the Zrthn ship had taken their toll, and they needed medical attention. Many were suffering from moderate to severe skin conditions, while others displayed some type of respiratory infection. Both illnesses were likely caused by the damp conditions on board the ship.
All of the prisoners were malnourished, a result of the poor Zrthn diet. Eli had paused to inspect a bowl of the putrid, fishlike soup that the prisoners had been given day after day, and pushed it away at the first smell. Eating that particular gruel wasn’t something he ever wanted to experience. He’d take the processed food pastes served in the chow hall over what these poor troops had been forced to endure, and silently swore to never complain about Alliance food—real or processed—ever again.
Of the former prisoners, only Lieutenant Benson and First Sergeant Twigg remained with the two platoons of Shiale Rangers Eli had brought aboard. Both were still fit for duty and refused to leave the ship. Eli understood and acceded. They had earned their place, and he couldn’t deny their need to face what lay ahead. Each had been refitted with standard weapons, a cache of which had been found in a storage area near the sorting room on the second level. Benson retained the Zrthn weapon he had “liberated” from its previous owner, and it hung from a strap at his waist.
All of the human rangers were now taking turns connecting their armor to his. In this fashion, each passed a small percentage of their charge over to him.
“Okay, Captain,” Benson gave a thumbs up and clapped the “donating” ranger on the back as he disconnected his suit. “I’m at eighty percent.”
“Excellent,” Eli acknowledged and turned his attention to the assembled force. “Okay, let’s move out. Quietly. Armored rangers in the front, Minith rangers behind.”
He heard the grumbling and the looks of anger cross the features of the large warriors. It wasn’t unexpected.
“I understand you want to fight,” he addressed the Minith. Although he could never say it out loud, he knew their aggressive tendencies and love of battle often overruled their common sense. “But the weapons we’ve encountered here on the ship don’t seem to work against our armor. That’s the only reason I’m asking you to stay back. We’re protected. Also, if I’m not mistaken, we’re going to need your battle skills soon enough.”
The last comment got several nods, and Twigg stepped forward.
“We will follow your lead, Captain.” He looked over the assembled Minith with a look that dared them to argue the point any further. “And we will be prepared to fight when the time is right.”
Twigg was a well-known warrior among his people, and his words seemed to dispel any further discontent. Eli nodded to the first sergeant and turned toward the ramp. It was three meters wide, which accommodated two armored rangers side-by-side.
He and Benson took lead positions.
“We ready for this EJ?”
Eli couldn’t tell him that he already knew what to expect. Or that this would likely be a cake walk. So he just hefted his Ginny into position, nodded and said, “Let’s go.”
The ramp wasn’t steep, but it was long and circular. Because he now held some of Ah-loon’s memories, he knew it followed a path that mirrored the ship’s exterior. He also understood the gradual ramp was designed to best accommodate the Zrthn leg-tentacles. While Zrthns could navigate stairs, they weren’t an ideal manner of getting from one deck to another. Eli noted and filed that piece of data away in his mental file, then made an official note in his suit’s database. The official note, like the full vid of what they encountered on the ship, would be automatically transferred to the Alliance repository when they returned to Telgora.
Eli and Benson reached the top of the ramp and entered a hallway that led right and left. Eli turned left without pausing and picked up his pace. He tucked the Ginny into the sheath on his back and calmly drew his side-arm—a standard pulse weapon that could stun or kill—from its holster. Unlike the Ginny, it was near-silent when fired. Which is what he wanted just now. If his (Ah-loon’s) memories were correct.
He turned right at the next intersection, spied the squid, and fired. The Zrthn appeared to be sleeping when the pulse entered his head, but Eli couldn’t tell for sure. Not that it mattered. The now-dead alien crumpled to the floor with a soft, wet, plopping sound.
The intelligence they had gotten from Ah-loon was spot on, and Eli breathed a small sigh of relief. In the back of his mind, he had still held some doubt, still thought something might go wrong. But not now.
Sorry fo
r doubting you, Aank.
Eli felt the mental blink-blink that he was coming to associate with the Waa, and smiled.
Eli and Benson held up just shy of the wide doorway where the dank, gray blood of the Zrthn guard had begun spreading across. It was being absorbed by the spongelike flooring.
“Good shot, EJ. Excellent reflexes.”
They were on internal comms, but Eli still winced at the sudden voice in his helmet. “Not now. The command center is just inside. Remember the plan we discussed. This is a large room and will probably be occupied by a dozen or so enemy. Few, if any, will be armed. Take down any who look like a threat, but we need to capture as many as we can. You ready?”
“Sure.”
Eli took a moment to switch out the sidearm for the Ginny. Firepower was needed now, not silence. He then turned his attention to the doorway and realized he had no way of opening it. He gaped at the panel next to the door and wondered how it worked. His (Ah-loon’s) memory didn’t provide an answer.
“What’s the problem, Captain Justice?”
Eli shook his head and kicked himself for not thinking of this detail. He was on the verge of asking Aank for help when Benson reached down, grabbed an arm-tentacle, and dragged the squid toward the panel. With the armor’s assistance, the movement seemed effortless.
“I got this.”
Eli watched as Benson placed the six finger-tentacles on the circles drawn on the panel. Each made a small sucking noise and held in place when he pressed them down individually. When the sixth “finger” was in place, Benson looked to Eli, gave a nod, then pushed inward on the panel. The door whisked to the side, and the interior of the command center was revealed.
Benson beat Eli into the space and turned left toward his assigned zone. Eli moved directly forward, scanning for targets, confident the ranger behind him would move left, as he had been instructed.
Several of the aliens’ heads popped up and spun in their direction. What appeared to be curiosity at their entrance was soon replaced with a buzz of activity and surprised urgency. The chirping-shuttering noises that made up their language shifted into overdrive as they no doubt recognized their guests as bi-peds. Armed bi-peds.
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