You don’t have our audio pickups, Manny thought, unsurprised that he was picking up a sound the native couldn’t. It sounded to him like a large creature trying to move with stealth, and mostly succeeding.
“Stay here,” Manny ordered, getting to his feet and bringing his weapon to his shoulder. He enhanced his night vision and shifted so he can get a better view of the forest below.
“I do not follow your orders, Human,” said the Kalagarta in a low voice, standing and moving beside Manny. “I see nothing. I…”
“Can you hear it now?” Manny asked. The noise had grown louder, almost to the point where he wouldn’t have been surprised to have heard it without his audio pickups.
“Yes. What is it?”
“I’m not sure, but it’s awful big and heading this way.”
The native appeared to be straining his eyes to pierce the dark, and failing. “How are you seeing anything?”
“My helmet gives me that ability,” Manny said, carefully watching the creature while still trying to figure out what it was.
“Do the six legs have the same abilities?”
“Probably at least as good, maybe a little better.”
The Kalagarta said some words that didn’t come through the translation software. Manny chuckled. If he had to guess, the warrior had cursed, probably before all his gods.
“So you learned something,” Manny said, sighting in on what he’d decided had to be an animal, and getting ready for a kill shot if it crossed the imaginary line he’d established in his mind. “When you’re operating at night against the six legs, they have much better sight than you do.”
Manny didn’t know a lot about the Xlatan. He’d never heard of them before landing on this world. It wasn’t like they were Besquith. Every mercenary knew about them. What he knew about the Xlatan was that they were fast and strong and were said to have senses much more acute than Humans. Not surprising, since the only sense Humans had that other species might envy was visual discrimination. That was superior. Hearing, not bad. Smell, terrible.
“Do not shoot the animal,” ordered the Kalagarta, pointing his spear downhill. “They are herbivores.”
Manny could see there were now many more of the shapes on his night vision, coming out of the shadows to follow the leader. Or was that a scout?
“Are they dangerous?” he asked the Kalagarta, a feeling of misgiving coming over him. Now there were over fifty of the creatures moving through the forest, heading up the hill. Manny knew he’d have to fire soon if he didn’t want them overrunning the camp.
“They can be extremely dangerous, if you do the wrong thing. If you attack one, the rest of the herd will immediately attack. If you kill one of the young, the adults will go insane and will go to any length to destroy the predator.”
“Damn.”
“So you learned something,” said the Kalagarta after a short croak that was his version of a chuckle.
The animal was coming closer, and Manny could now make out some of its features in night vision. It reminded him of a bear, or one of the creatures they’d fought on the higher plateau. The Kalagarta had said it was an herbivore, and he had to trust what the native said.
“If you shoot one, the rest will go into a berserker rage,” continued the Kalagarta. “Their skins will toughen, and they will become stronger and faster.”
“Does anything hunt them?” the Spaniard asked, staring in horror at the herd. The animals had stopped, and the ones in the front had raised themselves up on their hind legs, appearing to sniff the air.
“We hunt them,” said the warrior proudly, “but only from ambush, and only when we have an escape route clear.”
The Kalagarta took in a deep breath, then let out a reptilian hiss that almost reached the status of a roar. The animals below all stopped dead in place, the leaders rising up as high as they could go. In moments they’d all turned around and waddled off.
“What is going on?” asked Xebraferd, coming from behind as a silent shadow.
“We had a herd of mugra coming up the hill,” said the Kalagarta warrior. “I thought it a good opportunity to teach the Human about our environment.”
Xebraferd chuckled. “Did you learn something, Human? About the lesser mugra?”
The lesser. “You mean there’s a greater version of this thing?”
“Down in the jungles, they are twice as large.”
Manny whistled. He couldn’t imagine a herd of beasts with the attributes of those he’d just seen, but with twice the mass.
“Do not worry, Human,” said Xebraferd, clapping him on the shoulder in a very Human-like manner. “We see them before they see us, and they are not aggressive if they are not bothered. However, the same cannot be said of their predators.”
Manny felt himself shake as he digested what the war chief had said. He had absolutely no desire to run into things that hunted the greater version of the mugra.
* * * * *
Chapter Seventeen
“We’re waiting to hear your report,” the being on the Tri-V image said. “The Humans must die. Do not fail in this, Jillor. You know the price of failure.”
The boss bowed his head in respect, though he knew the being on the Tri-V was just a recording brought here by the freighter in orbit. The council was obviously not happy he hadn’t been able to report the successful completion of the contract. They wanted the creatures who’d interfered in Syndicate business dead, and they wanted them dead now.
Why in all the hells didn’t they just hire some assassins on their home planet, Earth? Just send them in to kill the mercenaries and everyone they love. That would have sent the proper message.
But the council had decided against that course of action. They were afraid the assassins might be apprehended, or that the plot might be traced back to them. They were already in enough trouble with the Galactic Union, and especially with the Peacemaker’s Guild. The Syndicate wasn’t considered a member of any guild; they were classified as a criminal enterprise, which was essentially correct. Though they wanted to obtain a positive reputation in mainstream society, that was difficult to do when the business model included kidnapping and wholesale murder of indigenous people. The Union was willing to overlook such on a minor scale…but nothing the Syndicate did was minor.
The plan had been to take them out when they were on approach to the surface. To shoot them down, then make sure there were no survivors. Their transport ship had been boarded, the crew spaced along with their traitor captain, and another cargo vessel had been added to the Syndicate fleet.
And it would have worked perfectly, Jillor thought, growling deep in his throat. If not for that idiot Mmrash.
A craft rumbled outside, one of the transport shuttles from the ship that had brought the message. It would be loading up on as much Invigorate as the ship could handle—thousands of tons. A hundred billion credits of product, enough to swell the coffers of the Syndicate. Money was power, and in amounts like that, it was considerable power, indeed.
And all of my shuttles are involved in trying to find the targets who should already be dead, he thought, bringing a heavy hand down on his desk.
“Is everything okay, Boss?” his secretary asked over the intercom.
Just wonderful, he thought, choking back the invective he was about to lay on her undeservedly. He wanted to stay on the good side of the only member of his species on the planet, and the only female for hundreds of light years. He wanted what she had to offer, and it would be too great a great risk to force it from her, since her family was high in the Syndicate.
“I’m fine,” he finally said, switching off the Tri-V, whose figure had nothing else he wanted to hear. “Just frustrated. If those damned Xlatan had done what I ordered, everything would be going well.”
“Perhaps a drink would help,” she said, her voice taking on a husky tone, “in my quarters.”
“That sounds like a wonderful idea,” Jillor said, a feeling of arousal coming over him. There was
nothing he could do personally right now, so why not take some pleasure while he could?
“Put the Xlatan second on the comm,” he said, “then you can go ahead and prepare for our evening together.”
A moment later the image of a Xlatan came up on the Tri-V. Jillor really couldn’t say which one it was, since they all looked the same to him. From the jacket the being was wearing, he assumed it was high ranking.
“When Mmrash reports in with more excuses, I don’t want to be disturbed. He can wait until morning. But,” the Boss growled, glaring at the Xlatan who was now the focus of all of his frustration with the species, “if he’s successful, I want to hear about it. Immediately. Understand?”
“Yes, but…”
Jillor closed the connection, not wanting to hear anything else the Xlatan had to say.
Things will look different in the morning, he thought, walking out of the office and through the outer door.
The sight of a shuttle settling down on its landing jets greeted him, while slaves pushed the carts full of Invigorate to the edge of the field. The guard force—mercenaries who weren’t Xlatan—kept them away from the vicinity of the shuttle. The Kalagarta probably wouldn’t be able to do anything to the ship, but there was no use taking chances.
The sky was starting to lighten in the east, a sign that day was almost on them. The night had passed without his awareness, and now the fatigue was starting to settle over him. The rest of the compound had been awake through most of the night preparing the shipment. Well, that wasn’t something he had to do, since he was the one in charge. He could go back to his quarters and sleep the day away.
He remembered that Hrallo was waiting for him with drinks, and, most importantly, her body. As the image of the beautiful female took precedence in his mind, the fatigue left him, and the only thought left was the pleasure that would soon be his.
* * *
“Wake up!” Mmrash yelled, opening the cockpit door and moving into the troop compartment. “Wake up! We need to get back to work.”
“Another wonderful day of adventure awaits,” one of the privates said, elbowing the warrior beside him. “More excitement beyond belief. I’m so happy I signed up for this.”
Most times Mmrash would have let the jibes go by him. This was not one of those times. His stress level was as high as it had ever been, and he took two steps toward the soldier and swung a booted foot into the leg of the Xlatan. He connected with a loud smack, and the soldier yelped in pain. The mercenary looked up at his commander with an expression of murderous rage. After seeing Mmrash’s face, the expression flew away, and the soldier looked down at the floor.
“Yesterday accomplished little,” the commander said, looking from face to face. “Today we’re going to try something different. Today I’ll be dropping off patrols to search through the forest.”
Expressions of shock appeared on every face. They knew the Humans and their allies would outnumber a single squad, and none were looking forward to confronting them in the forest, away from air support.
“If you spot them, you’re not to attack,” Mmrash said, wanting to assure them that he wasn’t sending them to their deaths, “you’re to set up a defensive perimeter and report in. Then I’ll airlift the rest of the platoon in to surround them. Once we’re all on the ground and in position to prevent their escape, we’ll move in and destroy them.”
There was some mumbling as he finished speaking, and Mmrash felt the blood rise to his face. “You are Xlatan warriors. Sworn to this company. This clan. Your lives are mine to do with as I please in pursuit of our mission. Our mission is to find and kill these Humans and all who stand with them. Now,” he continued, his voice rising, “you will act like Xlatan warriors.”
The ears of the men showed their feelings, something a Xlatan couldn’t hide. There was still much doubt, even a little outright fear. Most were showing determination, the courage of Xlatan warriors. Not all of them, but enough.
“Prepare yourselves,” he said, turning to go back into the cockpit. “We’ll be dropping each squad off within the hour.”
Mmrash took his seat, strapping himself in, while he pulled up a Tri-V map over the dash. He’d already picked out two places, the passes through the escarpment closest to a straight line from the village. There were four more within a day’s walking distance of that imaginary centerline. He only had three additional squads unless he wanted to send shuttles back to pick up more troops, although the boss might have an issue with taking more of his security force when Mmrash’s forces already outnumbered the Humans more than two to one.
That meant he had to select three more passes out of the four possibilities. Looking it over again, he made his decision. He’d place his people in what he hoped were the most likely avenues of approach. Once one made contact, his shuttles would pick up the other four squads and move them into position, surrounding the Humans. An attack on five axes would then destroy them, and the mission would be accomplished. And if it turned out the Humans and their allies were too difficult to take in ground combat, he had his gunship and four shuttles to provide all the air support they’d need. He pointed at the areas he’d selected and sent them off to the other shuttles.
“You all now have your orders. Drop your soldiers off at those points, then orbit at a distance. High enough that people in the forest won’t spot you, but close enough you can come in and provide fire support.”
The acknowledgments came back, and Mmrash cut the connection.
“Get us to our drop off point,” he ordered, turning to the pilot.
The male’s ears twitched with acceptance, and he pulled back on the stick and launched the gunship into the air from the clearing.
I hope this works, the commander thought, having doubts about splitting his force the way he was doing. He’d gotten the idea from something he remembered in officer training. A book of tactics from one of the campaigns in his world’s past. Two countries had been at war, and the invader had all the tech advantages. Still, the guerillas of the other power had been winning, until the side possessing greater air superiority had come up with the strategy that had won the war. They’d put enough of a force in the way of a retreating guerilla band to impede their progress, while they brought up reinforcements by air. The change in tactics had resulted in a win. In fact, the winning nation hadn’t lost another battle after adopting the air mobile tactics.
Everything seemed to be in place for him to do the same, which in and of itself was enough to cause him considerable worry.
* * *
The day was bright and cool, at least to start, though Jonah was sure the temperature would be rising in a couple of hours. They were only a thousand feet above sea level at this point, and the vegetation was beginning to transition from forest to jungle. There were more vines hanging down, which meant less sunlight reaching the ground, and more shadows. There were more birdlike creatures chattering away, and even groups of anthropoid creatures much like monkeys, staring with curiosity at the beings walking by below.
“How many more days, Colonel?” Sarah Cohen asked, angling her heavy rifle over her shoulder as she struggled to keep up.
Jonah looked down at the small woman. She really didn’t seem like the type who’d pick a weapon like the M71 12mm anti-material rifle as her primary weapon. However, she was a natural with the weapon, one of the best the colonel had ever seen. She’d stated in the past that she was in love with the weapon, but that didn’t mean she loved carrying it. Unfortunately, she was stuck with it, since everyone else was carrying a full load of equipment. Almost everyone else was carrying a couple of mortar rounds, or a rocket launcher with multiple refills. She was carrying what was estimated to be her fair share, based on her body weight.
“We’re making as good time as possible,” he said, wiping a rivulet of sweat from his cheek. They’d travelled about twenty-five miles a day for the last three days. Of course they could have covered more on a hard-packed road—up to forty. This wasn’t a
hard-packed road, and walking for twelve hours at two miles an hour was very good progress. “I think we should get there in another four days.”
“I think I can make that,” Sarah said with a smile, pulling her helmet off and hanging it by its straps from her belt, “but I’ll be glad when I have a chance to lighten my load by a couple dozen rounds.”
“Me too, Sarah,” the colonel said after a short laugh. He knew the mercenary would never think of jettisoning equipment. None of his people would. But if they could expend ammo killing the people standing between them and the successful completion of their mission, they’d jump at the chance.
“I’m getting a good look at the valley ahead, sir,” Cheung Xou said, walking a couple of yards behind, at times stumbling over something on the ground.
The electronics expert obviously wasn’t paying attention to the world directly around him. Instead, his attention was on the small drone that was scouting ahead, just over the trees. It was sending data back by tight-beam microwave, not always in contact, but often enough to give them a good look ahead.
“What do you see?” Jonah asked, looking back at the Chinese merc.
“A lot of trees,” the large man said with a laugh, “a few clearings, and the escarpment on the other side of the valley. About five hundred miles of cliffs, with a half dozen passes going up to the small plateau on top.”
Jonah grunted. That jibed with the map he had. The entire canyonlands region was more or less flat, running from three thousand feet at one end to sea level at the other. That didn’t mean there weren’t areas of higher elevation, at most reaching to four thousand feet. In this area there weren’t any mountains, more like hills. Some fairly large, most not. Still, the face of one ridgeline had formed into a long cliff face, three or four hundred feet high, with the aforementioned passes running through.
“Any chance the enemy can spot your drone?” Sarah asked, her brow furrowing in worry.
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