Stranded Justice (The Justice Trilogy Series Book 2)

by Steven L. Hawk

He and his army had four weeks of travel ahead of them. That should be plenty of time to finalize his plan for how the Shiale Alliance would meet and defeat the latest Zrthn threat. They probably wouldn’t be expecting him for another eleven weeks at the earliest, but the new, faster battle cruisers should reduce their travel time by 60 percent. Surprise would be on their side.

  * * *

  Oinoo once again stood on the raised dais of the Administrator’s Circle, facing the Executive’s position. Unlike his previous visit, there were no feelings of disquiet or anxiety passing through his gut. No, he was content, secure, and confident.

  As The Twelve appeared in their places—with no sign of the Executive, he noted—he spread his tentacles in deference. Without thought, he fashioned the blueish, rubbery lips set into the center of his large, bulbous head into a pleasant, welcoming smile.

  “Trade Arranger Oinoo,” Ellil began. Oinoo felt the forced smile morph into a sincere one at being addressed by the Lead Administrator and not by one of the others. An auspicious beginning. “We have been receiving your reports. They appear positive.”

  “Yes, Lead Administrator Ellil,” Oinoo replied, with a wriggle of his hand tentacles. “We are ahead of schedule. Currently, we have more than one hundred thousand fighters positioned on the planet, with thousands more arriving each day via portal. We have five of our largest, most modern ships en route. Each one is carrying supplies, weapons, and equipment capable of supporting a million troops. They also possess additional transportation portals, which means our ability to move additional forces to the planet will quadruple.”

  “When will our ships arrive at the planet, Trade Arranger?”

  “They are scheduled to reach orbit in twelve days, Lead Administrator. Our intelligence indicates we will arrive nearly six weeks prior to any significant Shiale Alliance response. There may be Alliance ships nearer than their primary planets of Waa and Telgora, but none with the ability to launch any serious attack.”

  Oinoo’s body remained motionless, but his head pivoted around the circle, his eyes landing firmly on each of The Twelve in turn. He had no reason to look away or blink; their strength and his confidence were secure.

  “In short, we have a solid tentacle hold on Cerbius, and it grows stronger with each passing day. When the first Shiale mothership arrives we will have fortified our defenses with over a million soldiers and a thousand additional laser cannons. It is unlikely the Alliance will attempt to retake the planet. But if they try, their ships will be destroyed before they can land. And if they do land, they will outnumbered by at least ten to one. More likely, it will be a hundred to one.”

  Chapter 21

  Drek and the other Minith soldiers weren’t in peak condition, and Eli had to stop once again to allow them to rest. Since being together, he had managed to piece together the key points of their journey since the Minith had been banished from Telgora. They hadn’t been treated kindly by the Zrthns, and their treatment by Drah since reaching Cerbius hadn’t been much better. For the last few hours, they had moved through the jungle level of the forest. It was slower going than the dim level, but his six companions were aided by the sun—which was only an hour short of setting, Eli noted.

  In his suit, he could have easily pushed on, but they were a unit now, so he had to consider their abilities and needs. Eli sighed.

  Don’t be so judgmental.

  It was difficult, though. He wanted to keep moving. He wanted to locate the mine. Most of all, he wanted to find the survivors from the Agate. If the survivors were in carriers, as he suspected, they might be able to engineer a connection for the communication unit and contact the Alliance.

  Eli swallowed the urge to push onward, knelt down, and surveyed his companions. The six Minith sprawled around him in various states of fatigue. Drek knelt, his weapon trained outward. He appeared ready to face whatever danger might come out of the jungle that surrounded them. Two others—Keen and Inko—sat back-to-back, using the other as a leaning post. For the most part, they seemed semialert, with their weapons in their laps and their eyes scanning their surroundings. The other three Minith had collapsed to the ground and weren’t even attempting to stay alert. The sight was disturbing. He had grown up around the giant warriors and was accustomed to their mannerisms and tendencies. They were a strong, assertive, and prideful people who rarely hesitated to battle for what they wanted. The lack of discipline and stamina on display proved just how far this group had fallen since being shipped from Telgora. Eli shook his head and made a decision. The weariness Eli could accept. The lack of discipline was another matter.

  “Sergeant Drek.” Eli hailed the Minith NCO, and waited for him to look in his direction. When their eyes met, the ranger nodded his head to the warriors scattered around them. “Get the team sorted out. We’ll hold up here until morning.”

  The sergeant looked about and took in what Eli saw. A flick of an ear and a flare of his large nostrils revealed his sudden anger. The anger was quickly followed by a shoulder hunch, which Eli interpreted as shame, and Drek’s eyes moved back to his lieutenant’s. Yes, there was embarrassment in the look, and Eli knew he didn’t have to say anything more.

  With a growl, Drek lifted himself to his feet and went to work. A series of kicks, slaps, and verbal threats spurred the Minith soldiers into a flurry of activity. Within a minute, the team was alert and had assembled themselves in a tight perimeter around Eli and their angry sergeant. It wasn’t how Eli would have handled things, but it was the Minith way, and it was quite impressive. The warriors might still be tired, Eli noted, but discipline had been restored.

  It was a start.

  * * *

  Eli lay on his back, looking upward. He couldn’t see them through the double canopies overhead, but there were stars up there, he knew. One of them was the Telgoran star. He hoped it was keeping Adrienne warm and that she was doing well. By now, she would have heard of the Agate’s disappearance and would be worrying about him. They’d become very close over the past eighteen months. If they hadn’t both been officers in the Alliance, they’d have probably been married already.

  Probably should have married her anyway, Eli thought. Then again, if I die here it’s probably best that we didn’t take that step.

  He missed her and knew how he’d feel if the roles were reversed. If he was stuck on Telgora while she went missing, he’d be beside himself. He imagined the conversations he’d be having with Colonel Conway—flock, even with his dad, if necessary—about his need to get on the first ship he could locate and go find her. A lump grew in his throat at the thought, and he was forced to swallow it down.

  Focus, he scolded himself. Stop worrying about things you can’t control.

  This emotional cycle was becoming a well-tread path. It was one he couldn’t escape for long, despite his best attempts. He took a deep breath, shoved his thoughts of Adrienne to a dark, quiet corner of his mind, and made another attempt. Instead of thinking about her, he turned his attention to the world that surrounded them.

  When the sun disappeared, the jungle around them came to life. Squeals, buzzing, and croaks now filled the night. The sounds of the local birds, insects, and who-knew-what-else seemed to put the Minith on edge, but now, after being surrounded by the otherworldly sounds for the past two weeks, Eli had learned to appreciate the din. In a rough fashion, they were a type of early warning system. Changes in the cacophony that surrounded them meant something. Eli hadn’t broken the code on exactly what that something was yet, but given enough time he’d figure it out. It was how his mind worked.

  His father had once called him a wizard at learning languages. Eli hadn’t understood what he had meant at the time. To him, learning a language was just a matter of listening for patterns, inflection, and sounds, then applying them to real-world events. It was how he’d learned Minith as a child—the fact that his best friend was Minith had required it. Telgoran had been picked up later, after years of study and learning. It wasn’t until he was in hi
s late teens that he realized most humans needed help to learn a new language—an information-transference educator. It was a rarely used education device that used subconscious transmissions and prompts to implant large volumes of detailed information directly to an individual's consciousness.

  The transference educator was how he’d learned Zrthn. After their previous battle with the slithery, squidlike race, he’d volunteered for the language transference. He’d spent six hours lying unconscious, with wires attached to his head, but he’d awoken with a new capability. After taking years learning Telgoran and Minith, using the shortcut seemed . . . unfair, almost like cheating. He had a new ability but immediately decided he’d opt for learning the old-fashioned way, when possible.

  Like now.

  The jungle clamored out its tune and Eli tilted his head to absorb the cadence and timbre and tried to separate out the individual peals. It was beautiful. It was different from anything he’d ever heard on Earth, Waa, or Telgora. Somehow, it felt right, though. It felt like he belonged.

  A gentle tingle tapped against his consciousness and interrupted his contemplation. He pushed the sounds of the jungle away and turned his attention to the tingle. The Chih were asking for his permission to “speak.”

  Yes?

  Waa, Waa, Waa. Go, go, go.

  Eli sighed. The Chih were an impatient lot.

  My team is tired. They need time to regain their strength.

  He waited for a response, but none came. He felt a faint sense of urgency and disappointment. He didn’t know if those feeling came from the Chih or if he was projecting his own emotions.

  I will take you to the Waa when they are rested. Tomorrow.

  Good, good, good. Tired, tired, tired?

  The mental link he shared with the Chih was tiring for sure. After experiencing the fully immersive style of mental communication with Aank, the communication he shared with the Chih was like speaking with a toddler. But he thought he understood what they were saying. It was good that he would take them to the Waa tomorrow. And they wanted to know if he was tired.

  My team is tired. I’m fine.

  Good, good, good. Come, come, come.

  Come? Come where?

  Meet Chih, meet Chih, meet Chih.

  Meet the Chih? Eli’s head jerked up, and a jolt of excitement passed through his body at the thought.

  Yes, of course! Where are you?

  North, north, north.

  On my way.

  The team had located a small clearing in the jungle and aligned themselves in a circular, outward-facing formation around their new captain. Two of the six Minith were on watch while the other four rested. Eli rolled into a crouch and moved slowly to the Minith guard nearest his position. It was dark, and though the Minith had excellent night vision, he didn’t want to startle the soldier.

  He tapped the soldier on his foot and whispered, “I’m going to recon the surrounding area. I’ll be back in a bit.”

  The Minith warrior looked like he wanted to say something or question Eli’s judgment on heading out alone into the jungle, but he wasn’t given a chance. Eli was beyond the circle of fighters and moving quickly to the north without a glance back.

  How far do I need to go, he asked, hoping the Chih would give him an idea of his destination.

  Far, far, far. North, north, north.

  Just great. He didn’t know how far “far” was to the Chih, but he stepped up his pace and pushed ahead. He reasoned that it couldn’t be too distant, not if they expected him to lead them to the Waa in the morning.

  His senses were on high alert as he moved through the dense foliage. The animals and insects quieted as he moved, and he thought about the jungle’s early warning system and was glad it was working as he’d expected. At least this time, he knew what the silence indicated. He had all of his suit’s systems powered on: night vision, motion sensors, auto-targeting, and mapping. All worked together to paint a picture of the environment that surrounded him. The familiarity of the Ginny in his hands added an additional touch of comfort.

  Every couple of minutes, he paused to switch from standard night vision to thermal vision. During those moments, he found himself surrounded by dozens, if not hundreds, of small to midsize heat signatures. Each signature represented a single living being, hopefully nonthreatening in nature. They all seemed to freeze or scurry away at his approach, and he didn’t encounter anything especially large. There was definitely nothing as large as the giantpillar or the wolves he had encountered on the layer beneath the one he currently traversed. He took those as good signs and kept moving.

  He had covered seven kilometers in just over two hours when the tingle reasserted itself.

  Close, close, close.

  At those words, Eli stopped moving forward and crouched down. He trusted the Chih. They had helped him more than once, and they needed him to take them to Aank . . . but . . .

  He focused his attention to the north and cycled his armor through each of its vision and assessment systems. Night vision, thermal, long distance, sonar, and biological. It was the metallurgic detection system—the one that had been installed specifically for this trip to Cerbius—that got Eli’s attention.

  There was an enormous mass of agsel and steel less than two hundred meters ahead. The top of the mass extended upward, reaching halfway to the level above, where the majority of the planet’s birds and smaller animals resided. Its base sat firmly on the surface, two levels and nearly 150 meters below his current position. To Eli, it looked remarkably like a . . .

  “That can’t be,” he whispered before standing. He resisted the sudden urge to sprint ahead and forced himself to proceed slowly.

  As he got closer to the towering mass, he switched his systems between night vision, metallurgic, and thermal. When he got within fifty meters, the input he received from the three systems converged into a comprehensive, unquestionable certainty. The size, shape, and composition couldn’t be denied.

  He was looking up at the damaged remains of a Waa mothership.

  Come, come, come!

  The words were accompanied by a hint of movement to his right. Eli cycled his view to thermal and noticed a line of small creatures exiting the craft, heading toward him. A similar movement from his left grabbed his attention, and he spied two similar lines of movement from that direction.

  Welcome, welcome, welcome!

  Here we go, Eli thought.

  It was time to finally meet the Chih.

  * * *

  Welcome, welcome, welcome!

  The Chih poured forth from the mothership in three lines toward Eli. As they got closer he saw that they were small, fur-covered creatures. His initial thought was canine—what humans had once referred to as “dogs” on Earth. Now extinct, the animals had once been partners to humans. Pets.

  But as he began to take in more of their features, he realized they couldn’t be canine. For one thing, they seemed smaller than what he had learned about dogs. If he had to guess, the largest of these creatures weighed no more than five or six pounds. But that wasn’t the kicker. The real difference was that canines had four legs, and these creatures had six. The two larger, more muscled legs at the rear were obviously meant for jumping or for generating speed as the Chih ran. The four legs at the front of their tiny bodies were similar in shape and size. They were thinner than the rear legs, but still powerful. Only the back two of the front four were used for walking though. The other two—the two in the very front of the chest—were lifted and held aloft, almost like arms. They had broadly chested torsos, tapering toward their hindquarters, which gave them a sleek, swift appearance.

  Their heads certainly looked canine. The large eyes, longish snouts, and pointed, upright ears seemed to replicate the pictures Eli had seen of ancient dogs. The varied colors and markings also mirrored what he had learned. White, brown, black, tan, reddish, and every possible mixture of those colors seemed well represented. Some had short hair, others longish hair, and still others h
ad nearly none.

  Welcome, welcome, welcome!

  The greeting in Eli’s head was accompanied by a clamor of yips, barks, and grunts as the three lines of Chih reached a point less than two meters from where he stood. The three lines then melded into a melee of joy and excitement that circled around him in a strange clockwise manner. There had to be thousands in the crowd, and still more poured from the mothership.

  He couldn’t help but smile as they leaped, spun, and yipped out their pleasure at his presence. Without exception, each tiny Chih shook its long tail in a strange, wild, side-to-side fashion. Occasionally, one or two would break from the circling pack, race up to him, and jump, tapping their foremost paws on his thighs. Several tongues reached out to gently touch his armored feet, calves, and thighs.

  Somehow, he understood the paw taps as playfulness. The wild yapping and the tongue-laps were greetings. They were elated by his presence and wanted him to know it. A swell of wonder and excitement grew inside his chest as the growing crowd circled, played and welcomed him.

  Hello, hello, hello!

  Welcome, welcome, welcome!

  Meet, meet, meet!

  For the first time since reaching the surface of Cerbius, the tension, worry, and pain that had accompanied every waking moment fled Eli. Instead, he felt a strange urge to give himself over to the Chih just as they were giving themselves over to him. Without a second thought, he popped the clasps on his helmet and dropped it to the ground. His armored gloves immediately followed.

  Feeling suddenly unencumbered, Eli lowered his body into a seated position, held his arms out to his sides, and fully welcomed the Chih. They swarmed toward, around, and over him in a wild flood of welcome and excitement. His hands quickly grew damp from the hundreds of light, featherlike tongue laps that were lavished upon him.

  Chapter 22

  Adrienne Tenney reached past the armor and grabbed her standard-issue ninal-leather boots. She dropped to the bunk, shoved her feet into the footwear, and began lacing. After years of wearing the combat boots, she didn’t need to think—the movements were ingrained, automatic. Which unfortunately allowed her mind to consider other things.