Press The Line: Ganog Wars Book 3

by Chris Fox

  Finally, the glob stopped three meters above the ground, forcing them through the liquid, toward the ground. Khar landed in a crouch, and heard Zakanna land a moment later.

  "Head down the road to our left," he said. "We'll meet at the intersection."

  He trotted up the narrow alley, squeezing past refuse receptacles and the occasional vehicle. He led Zakanna down the same route he'd taken when originally fleeing Takkar, pausing at each intersection to give instructions.

  "Tell me about this ka'tok we're going to meet," Zakanna said, from somewhere to his right. "The conversation will help us keep track of each other."

  "His name is Halut," Khar explained, starting up a narrow passageway that seemed familiar. He remembered the red sign on the building they were passing. "He's a Whalorian. When I was here last, he helped me reach the docking bay. I stowed away in the cargo hold of a freighter. That's how I arrived on your world."

  She was silent for a moment, though he could hear her footsteps. He suspected that was by design.

  "It must have been terrifying, trapped on an enemy world surrounded by unfamiliar things." Her tone conveyed her sympathy.

  "There were...uncomfortable moments of doubt," Khar admitted. They turned left onto a wider street, and in the distance Khar could see the bunker, butting up against the wall of the ship itself. "Yet is that not what we are trained to face? It cannot have been any more difficult than holding court. You were surrounded by enemies, every day. You knew they wanted you to fail, yet you persevered. You played the role they wanted you to play, but did it masterfully enough to turn their games back upon them."

  "Did I?" Zakanna asked bitterly. "They hold Imperalis, and are about to take this dreadnought."

  "A war is not judged by its first battle," Khar countered. "Unlike Fizgig, I have suffered defeat. Many times. Each time, I survived. In the end, I played an important role in destroying the Gorthian Eye. This war may appear to be going badly, but until it is over we will keep fighting to turn it in our favor."

  "Thank you, Khar," Zakanna replied. "Sometimes it is difficult to keep moving under the weight of our problems, but you remind me that we do not have the luxury of despair."

  The air around Khar began to ripple and fold, time stretching into infinity as the world warped around him. When the process finally stopped, he peered up at the top of the dreadnought.

  Zakanna confirmed his suspicion. "We've returned to Imperalis."

  "We should hurry. Eventually they'll find Aluki's cruiser."

  They continued in silence after that, finally reaching the bunker. It was just as dilapidated as before, the corrugated metal rusting and dirty. The "door"--a simple hunk of bent metal wedged into the doorway--was closed.

  "Halut," Khar called through a gap in the doorway. "It is Khar. I have returned, and need your assistance." He heard shuffling inside, then Halut's blue-suited head appeared at the gap.

  "Mmm, Khar? I do not understand. We got you off the ship. How did you return? Why?"

  "If you will let my companion and I inside, we can explain," Khar offered. He checked his power reserves. The belt was down to forty-two percent charge, but his own reserves were much higher. He could recharge both belts if necessary, though it would take time.

  "Of course, of course." Halut heaved the door from the doorway, moving the metal against the wall with surprising ease.

  Khar followed him inside, deactivating his stealth belt. A moment later Zakanna appeared as well. Halut moved the door back into the frame, then waddled over to join them.

  "What is all the fighting about above, and who is your friend?" Halut asked. He hopped up on the narrow bed, and gestured at his one chair.

  Zakanna sat.

  "This is Zakanna, of the Yog," Khar explained.

  "Empress Zakanna?" Halut asked, paling under his suit. His big eyes blinked up at Khar.

  "Former empress," Zakanna corrected. "The Kthul relieved me of both my world and my throne."

  Halut made a series of hoots that were untranslatable. He laid down on the bed. "You've brought the empress herself into my hovel. Do you realize what you've done?"

  Khar did. "I am sorry, Halut. If there were not so much at stake, I wouldn't have come."

  "I'll have to flee," Halut said, hopping down from the bed. "I can't stay, not now. They'll be coming for you, and when they arrive they'll give me to the melters." He began hastily packing his few belongings into a stained brown sack. "Please tell me you have some sort of plan."

  "We do," Khar explained hastily. "There is a cruiser waiting for us in the docking bay. If we can reach it, that cruiser can cloak, just as you saw us do. We'll be able to escape down to the planet. You can come with us, Halut."

  "Well, I suppose it can't be any worse than here," he muttered. His narrow shoulders slumped. "I've only stayed because I hoped I'd hear word of my wife. I suppose that's unrealistic."

  Khar placed a comforting paw on Halut's back. "Again, my apologies, my friend."

  "Your sacrifice will be rewarded, Whalorian," Zakanna said. "And you have my apologies for embroiling you in our conflict. I realize that is not fair. But I must ask: Do you have a way to get us to the cruiser undetected? If we travel through these warrens, we'll never make it."

  "Oh, I have just the thing," Halut said, giving a wide baleen grin. "You won't much like the smell, but I can promise we won't be seen."

  19

  SANITATION DUCTS

  Zakanna darted a nervous glance over her shoulder, then one above. Threats could come from any direction--either the lawless slums they walked through or a Ganog patrol sent to find her.

  "Mmm, this way," Halut said, waddling quickly down an alley. He paused, glancing in both directions before he moved to the wall. He removed a black metal triangle from his suit and pressed it against the grimy hull.

  Zakanna followed, resisting the urge to flip the switch on the stealth belt Fizgig had so graciously given her. There was little point in it, since they had no way to cloak Halut.

  "Will we be out of sight soon?" Khar rumbled, squatting next to the Whalorian.

  Khar treated the ka'tok with the same honor and respect he reserved for her. She found that...odd. She'd already known his culture had different customs, but this one was the most puzzling. They had no barriers between castes, yet still maintained order somehow.

  "Just a moment." Halut tapped the metal hull, and a panel slid open. His stubby fingers flew across a keyboard, and a door slid open a few meters to their right. Halut typed one more sequence, then waddled toward the door. "I set it to close in a few moments. Inside, quickly."

  Khar followed Halut through the doorway, so Zakanna did the same. Her lower nostrils clenched shut involuntarily as the stench hit her in a palpable wave. She stepped inside a dark corridor, suppressing a gag, and hunched her shoulders to prevent her fur from touching the glistening ceiling. The sludge coating the surface appeared to be the source of the terrible stench, which grew immeasurably worse when the door slid shut behind her.

  "This is, quite literally, the worst situation I can imagine," she choked out, futilely covering her mouth and nose with a hand.

  "Mmm, these are sanitation ducts. All waste flows through here, from every part of the ship. The ducts had to be made large enough for cleaning, so we will be able to follow them directly to the cargo bay," Halut explained. He began moving cheerfully up the crouched corridor. "Not even techsmiths come here--only ka'tok. Even my people avoid them, because of the smell."

  Zakanna followed, using the considerable grace she'd learned from Yulo to avoid touching any of the walls. The stench was almost a physical thing, and she longed to flee. But she forced herself to follow Khar, who in turn followed Halut. She didn't want to appear weak in front of either. Especially Khar.

  They passed through corridor after corridor, each passage emitting the same abhorrent stench.

  Khar looked over his shoulder in her direction. "This is one more example of the things I find puzzling abou
t your military. My people would never allow such a design flaw."

  "It cannot be that great a flaw," Zakanna pointed out. "These vessels have served the Ganog for over two dozen millennia--perhaps even longer--and during that time I've never heard of these ducts being exploited."

  "Mmm, do you really believe such things would be recorded?" Halut asked, keeping his tone deferential. "We ka'tok have become very good at avoiding the notice of the leadership caste. There are all sorts of things going on right underneath your feet, but since we are beneath your notice you are unaware of them."

  Zakanna found the Whalorian's words troubling, because they contained an alarming amount of sense. She'd never given ka'tok a second thought. She even ignored lower noble families, and certainly ignored techsmiths. How many signs had she missed? How many wayposts that could have warned her about her imminent fall?

  "Perhaps that will work in our favor here," she said, lamely. What must Khar think of her, and her people?

  They continued in silence, eventually reaching a metal catwalk that passed over a river of sludge. If the stench had been bad before, it was overpowering now. Zakanna's chest tightened, and spots danced across her vision as they crossed the bridge. She moved mechanically, forcing herself forward. Neither Khar nor Halut seemed to be suffering, and she fiercely envied them.

  On the other side, the stench lessened and became almost bearable as they left it behind them. She paused, sucking in lungfuls of air.

  "What's that?" Khar asked suddenly.

  Zakanna froze, listening. She heard a faint thrumming roar in the background. "That's a transport thruster. We must be near the docking bays."

  They hurried forward with renewed enthusiasm, finally entering a corridor with a metal grating above. Sludge leaked down the walls, apparently dropped from above. At least it was less foul than that in the sewer. She could hear voices now--Saurians calling out to each other in their harsh tongue.

  "Mmm, we are here," Halut said. "This is the docking bay you wanted. Forgive me, but I will wait here while you ensure the way is safe."

  Khar nodded, climbing up a row of rungs set into the wall. He reached the grate at the top and peered through.

  Zakanna ascended after him, but couldn't make out much. "What do you see?" she called softly.

  "The cruiser is there, and a group of Saurians are trying to get inside." He looked down at her with those slitted eyes, whiskers twitching. "There are six of them, but they do not know we are here. I believe we can surprise them."

  "I'm ready," Zakanna said, eager for the coming conflict. "These poor Saurians are about to get all the aggression and frustration I've built up today."

  Khar gave her a feral smile. "I almost pity them."

  20

  LIFE DEBT

  Khar heaved at the metal grate, bracing his feet against the rungs set into the wall. It groaned, stuck fast from years of accumulated grime. Khar strained harder, ordering his nanochrons to increase his strength. The grate came loose with a pop, a noise which was fortunately covered by the rush of a cruiser landing in the next docking bay.

  He poked his head up, holding the grate above him with both hands. The Saurians were all focused on the ship and seemed unaware of him. He grinned, slowly setting the grate down, and climbed from the sanitation ducts. As he did, he flicked the switch on his stealth belt.

  Zakanna did the same, her heat signature rising behind him.

  "Take the trio on the right," he whispered, picking up the grate again, "and I'll go left."

  "I'll be swift," she replied. "You do the same."

  Khar threw the grate with all his considerable strength. The Saurian's spine broke with a sharp crack, and the creature collapsed to the deck.

  The other Saurians spun, seeking a source of the attack. Khar circled wide, padding silently behind his enemies. He waited until Zakanna, still stealthed, snapped a Saurian's neck, then glided forward. Igniting his plasma blade, he rammed it into the closest Saurian and forced it up through the surprised guard's chest.

  The next Saurian spun, firing a hasty burst from his plasma pistol. The scarlet beam shot into his dying companion, finishing the work Khar's blade had started. Khar hurled the corpse at the next enemy, his enhanced strength knocking the last Saurian into the wall with enough force to knock him unconscious. Khar glided forward and made certain the Saurian would never rise again.

  He rose in time to see Zakanna finish her second opponent, crushing his nose into his brain with a flat-handed strike.

  "Khar," Zakanna called urgently.

  He looked toward the wide corridor that led deeper into the dreadnought. Four Ganog elites were charging into the room.

  "I see them," he called back. "We must eliminate them if we wish to get Halut aboard the vessel."

  "I will try," she called, closer now. "One we could do, perhaps two. But four? I do not see how it can be done."

  "How much energy does your belt have?" Khar asked, attempting to formulate a plan.

  "About 30 percent. Plenty for an extended combat. What do you have in mind?"

  "We stay cloaked, and harry them," Khar suggested. "Pick up the pistols the Saurians were using. It will take time, but we can bring them down." It wasn't a great plan, but it could be effective if they executed it well.

  "All right."

  One of the pistols drifted into the air. It began to fire, a trio of scarlet pulses that shot into the closest elite. The flesh cooked off his cheek, and the last bolt caught him in the eye. He staggered back with a roar, slapping one hand over the wound as he attempted to find a target.

  Zakanna dropped the pistol, and her heat signature moved quickly away. Khar leapt up the wall, igniting his wrist blade and ramming it into the rusted metal. He planted his feet and waited for one of the Ganog to pass directly underneath his perch.

  Khar dropped onto the unsuspecting Ganog's back, plunging his blade into the Ganog's right eye. The Ganog roared and raised a giant arm to swat him away, but Khar extinguished his blade and dove from the Ganog's shoulder. He rolled silently away, scurrying back into the shadows.

  These sorts of guerrilla tactics would kill the Ganog eventually, but a single mistake would cost him or Zakanna--or both--their lives. The Ganog, on the other hand, could make many mistakes and still survive.

  Khan didn't like the odds or the game, but saw no other way to get Halut onto the ship.

  Zakanna cried out, her cloak failing as she was flung into a wall by a random kick. She rolled back to her feet and dodged a followup kick from the same elite. The other elites moved in her direction now that they had a visible target.

  Khar maneuvered behind them, picking up a rifle that had belonged to one of the dead Saurians. He took careful aim, then shot the one-eyed Ganog in the shoulder. It turned to face him, and Khar gently stroked the trigger. A scarlet pulse caught the Ganog in his remaining eye, blinding him fully. He charged awkwardly in Khar's direction, roaring as he flailed about with his arms.

  The other three Ganog were still focused on Zakanna, and she was out of room to run. Khar thought furiously, but there was nothing he could do directly.

  He opened a comm channel to the cruiser. "Aluki, if you can hear me, this is Khar. We're trying to board, and in need of assistance."

  Aluki's voice boomed from the loudspeakers. "Mmm, Khar, it is good to hear your voice. I wondered who was attacking the elites, but didn't want to intervene until I knew who I was dealing with."

  Two turrets on the underside of the cruiser pivoted to take aim, then unleashed a volley of scarlet death. All three elites were riddled with plasma fire. Each tumbled to the ground, and the scent of burnt fur filled the room. Khar was thankful to be insulated from the unpleasantness.

  "How many people are we extracting?" Aluki asked over the loudspeaker.

  "Myself, Zakanna, and a Whalorian friend named Halut," Khar said into the comm.

  "Halut?" Aluki's voice rose a half-octave, booming from the speakers.

  "I'm coming,
wife," Halut called, huffing his way over the last rung. He rolled to his feet, and waddled with impressive speed toward the cruiser's docking door. By the time he arrived the door was sliding open, and Aluki rushed out to embrace him.

  "You two know each other?" Khar asked, cocking his head in confusion. It seemed unlikely that the only two Whalorians he'd ever met knew each other--though he supposed stranger things had happened.

  "I don't even care about the stench." Aluki seized Halut in a fierce hug, crying and giving quick little hoots of joy. "I'd given up hope of finding you. How did you get here?"

  "Mmm, Khar stumbled through my hovel and I helped him escape to the surface," Halut explained, hugging Aluki just as fiercely. "Then he brought the empress. That's who we're saving."

  Aluki disengaged from Halut, blinking up at Zakanna's muck-spattered form. "Mmm, well let's be on our way before more Ganog show up. Once we're safe, you can tell me the whole story of your escape. Khar, I owe you a life debt for reuniting me with my husband. I will never forget this."

  21

  REUNITED

  Khar leaned against the door, staring out the viewport at the rapidly growing world below. The sun illuminated the rich purple on the daylight side of the planet. The mighty city of Imperalis was invisible from orbit.

  "The last time I made the trip," he rumbled, "if you'd told me that I'd not only be returning, but that circumstances would be even more dire...I'd have named you a liar.

  Zakanna sighed. "I'm happy to be returning, though I wish circumstances were better." She pressed her face against the port. Her fur was still spattered from the sanitation ducts. "I should be grateful to be alive, but I'm just so frustrated. I have no idea how we're going to secure the beacon. Our armies are gone. Our fleets have scattered."

  "This mission was never going to be about armies," Khar said, resting a hand on her shoulder. "It hinges on the success of a small team--and whatever we've lost, we still possess that."