Guerilla

by Mel Odom

  “Mato,” Zhoh said, turning his attention back to the comm.

  “Yes, Captain.”

  “I want to start digging more deeply into General Rangha’s operations here.”

  Mato was silent for a moment and Zhoh knew it was because getting caught committing such betrayal might result in getting served to carrion feeders, and would definitely lead to getting assigned to somewhere even worse than Makaum. However, not obeying orders from a superior officer would be career suicide, even if that superior officer was committing treason. If Mato went to the general or one of the general’s adjutants with Zhoh’s intentions, Mato would forever carry the stigma of being untrustworthy.

  It was a no-­win situation for the lieutenant.

  Although he considered it a weakness, Zhoh acted to soften the situation for the other warrior. “I swear to you on our ancestors that you will be rewarded for your efforts, Mato. I will take over command of the Phrenorian military on Makaum, and you will remain my second-­in-­command. Grow as I grow. Lannig changes everything.”

  “Lannig changes everything,” Mato answered, but he did not sound so certain of that. “I will do as you say.”

  The response was automatic, and Zhoh heard some of Mato’s anxiety, knowing that only touched the surface of the emotions that ran through the younger man.

  “Tread carefully,” Zhoh admonished. “Until we remove the general from this command, he will have the support of the warriors we want to win over.”

  “Of course.”

  “Good hunting. I will be there within a few more hours.” Zhoh broke the connection and stared at the navigation chart of the river bottom as the submersible shot over underwater terrain.

  The Phrenorian War was heating up on other worlds, and it was pushing toward the Loki System. If the War Council of the primes was correct, and Zhoh felt that it was, Makaum would soon be part of the campaign. The Phrenorians needed a world that would guarantee resources to the fleets and armies. They would need Makaum to establish a toehold in this solar system.

  He intended to be the warrior who delivered Makaum to the Phrenorian Empire. And if he had to stand on General Rangha’s corpse to do it, so much the better.

  SEVEN

  Exfil Rendezvous

  West of Makaum

  0513 Hours Zulu Time

  Just as the sun thrust pointed fingers through the fog that clung to the treetops, Jahup reached the spot where he and Sage had left the two-­wheeled crawlers that had brought them to the site. A thin nanobot-­operated camo sheet covered the crawlers and perfectly emulated the surrounding jungle with only a minimal tech footprint. Drones had to be within a few meters to detect the signal. Centimeters from the camo sheet, an onlooker wouldn’t have noticed anything out of the ordinary. Even the wind was accounted for as the circuitry made adjustments.

  Ten meters from the site, Jahup went to ground behind a stand of trees atop a small hill. Jahup reached for Sage’s arm to pull him down, but Sage knelt beside his companion.

  Wait, Jahup signed. Make certain not discovered.

  Sage nodded and didn’t bother to explain that he had planned to do the same thing. He counted down ten minutes and the sun eased higher, burning off more of the white fog caused by the humidity. The diurnal insects and lizards took up their routines, hunting food and some of them stalking each other.

  If any Phrenorians had been waiting, the creatures wouldn’t have been present and that void would have given them away. Sage noted that the repellant Jahup had made still worked because they weren’t bothered.

  When the time had elapsed and he was satisfied no one was watching the site, Sage tapped Jahup on the shoulder and nodded toward the hidden site. Sage led the way, walking down into the lower part of the jungle and stepping behind the camo sheet.

  A slither above drew Sage’s attention to the upper branches of the tree. With a rush of scales, the omoro descended and lunged toward Jahup.

  The creature was four meters long from the tip of its ridged snout to the thick, stubby tail. The scales were thick and ridged, uneven in most places, and looked like a pile of rocks strewn along its length. The head was a craggy mass with a bone ridge that flared out a half meter from between its eyes to the back of its skull. Two more ridges almost as large jutted out along the jaws, framing a meter-­long maw filled with rows of serrated teeth. When Makaum built a predator, it didn’t hold back. The omoro looked like a spear as it streaked toward its intended prey. Ten powerful legs propelled it forward in a hypnotic choreography of synchronized thrusts.

  By the time Jahup realized the danger he was in and tried to move aside, he was already a half step too late. Fear widened the young scout’s eyes.

  Sage drew the etess from over his shoulder and the hide-­covered hilt felt solid and secure in his hand. The sharp blade ripped free of the sheath and he hoped it would be enough to handle the omoro. Sage slammed into the giant lizard and felt the breath go out of him. He stumbled and tried to regain his footing, but the omoro grabbed his thigh with one of the heavy-­clawed feet, yanking him to the side.

  Jahup’s dive had almost taken him clear of the attack, but the omoro’s back quarters swung around and caught him in the chest with its stubby tail. Jahup flew backward and crashed against a nearby tree, striking his head hard. His arms relaxed at his side.

  Sage didn’t know if the young man was alive or dead. The omoro twisted and squirmed like a boneless thing, managing to turn in all directions seemingly at once. Knotted in a ball, man and creature struck the ground.

  Sage landed on the bottom, but knew he couldn’t stay there and live. The omoro ripped at him with its great claws, digging shallow furrows across his chest, stomach, and thighs as Sage kicked away and rolled to his feet. He was conscious of the absence of the AKTIVsuit, too aware of the armor he didn’t have.

  He brought the etess up in both hands and stepped into a fighting stance. The omoro looked like a spring coming uncoiled as it flipped and flopped on the jungle floor. One of its feet caught in the camo netting and trapped it for a moment.

  Hoping to take advantage of the omoro’s bad luck, Sage quickly stepped forward and swung the etess at the lizard’s head. The blade clanged home, but didn’t bite into the creature’s flesh as Sage had hoped. Only a few small pieces of scale tore away. Sage set himself again and thrust at the omoro’s nearest eye, thinking that the organ had to be vulnerable.

  The blade pierced the eye and dark purple blood wept down the omoro’s cheek. Screaming in rage, a deep coughing bellow that echoed in the jungle, the lizard opened its mouth so wide it looked like Sage could have stepped in. He pulled on the etess, but the weapon didn’t come free. Just as he was about to yank on the blade again, the omoro jerked once more and tore the etess from Sage’s hands.

  Unarmed, Sage stepped back, hoping that the monster was in its death throes. With only a little warning, the omoro launched itself at him once more. Sage threw himself to the side and got to his feet only a split-­second before the omoro twisted around and came for him.

  As he ducked aside, Sage thought of trying for his weapons on the RDC, but he knew he’d never reach them. Spotting a tree limb as thick as his arm and a meter in length in the undergrowth, he snatched it up. When the omoro came at him, Sage swung the limb as hard as he could, catching the lizard in its open mouth. Teeth shattered and broke, flashing yellow-­white in the dulled gleam of sunlight streaming through the deep emerald leaves.

  The omoro roared in rage again and started to come around. Knowing he needed a weapon and that he couldn’t continue dodging the creature’s quick strikes, Sage focused on the etess and ran for it, pitting his speed and strength against that of the monster he faced. His hand closed on the hilt just as the omoro swung around at him.

  Instead of backing away from the creature’s attack, which would have been the instinctive response, Sage moved forward. He slappe
d the clawed leg aside with the sword and vaulted on top of the lizard’s thick body. His boots held against the omoro’s uneven hide and allowed him to step up onto the thing.

  Reacting at once, the omoro tucked and rolled. When it reached its back, the lizard opened it jaws and curled up toward its intended prey.

  Sage tried to ignore the rows of serrated teeth framing the pink gullet, but he couldn’t. They could close on him, and whatever part of him was left inside the omoro would be gone, cut or torn away. Purple blood leaked into the omoro’s mouth from the ruined eye.

  He knew there had to be a brain somewhere in that massive head, but he had no idea how big it was. He also trusted that the creature’s palate was softer than its craggy hide. Lining himself behind the blade in a heartbeat, ignoring the whipping claws for the moment, Sage shoved the etess forward.

  The blade bit into the pink flesh, slowed only for a moment, then rammed on in. The mighty jaws continued closing and Sage yanked his arm back, loath to release his only weapon. Even as fast as he was, he wouldn’t have been able to get clear of potential injury if the omoro hadn’t choked on the blade and the buckets of blood draining into its throat.

  Squalling in renewed fury and pain, the omoro twisted to the side in an effort to get its feet under it. Sage leaped off of the creature, managed to avoid the flailing legs and tail, and scanned his new battlefield to prepare for his foe’s next attack.

  The omoro hacked and coughed blood as it righted itself. It looked around with its one good eye and spotted Sage. It growled as it came forward, much slower than it had moved earlier, and blood poured from its mouth. Two steps later, the omoro shivered all over, froze in place with purple froth dripping from its snout and front legs, and collapsed.

  “Is it dead?” Jahup called from behind Sage.

  Sage watched the creature for a moment, saw that it wasn’t moving, and let out a breath. “It had better be.”

  Jahup walked up beside Sage and stood uncertainly, swaying. He held his etess in one hand. “I thought it had me.”

  “I thought it had me too.”

  “It should have.”

  “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

  “I’ve never seen a single man win a fight with an omoro.”

  Sage regarded Jahup with a small grin and a lifted eyebrow. “Maybe I’m not so green in this jungle as you think.”

  Jahup looked back solemnly. “If you kill another in the same way, then I’ll believe it.”

  Sage frowned and felt a little angry and nonplussed, then he spotted the smile Jahup could scarcely hide and knew the scout was baiting him.

  “Nope,” Sage said as he turned back to the camo sheet and the waiting equipment, “the next one’s yours.”

  0519 Hours Zulu Time

  Under the protective netting, the sunlight was dimmer and the heat was blunted. Two Rapid Deployment Crawlers sat under the trees. Both two-­wheeled vehicles had fat all-­terrain tires, and both were stripped down to only essential equipment, a magnetic-­powered engine, a powerful driveshaft that turned both wheels, a seat, and enough suspension to survive drops from twenty meters—­if the rider didn’t lose control on impact. Or wasn’t already dead from enemy fire. The matte gray and green paint allowed the crawlers to present a low profile while on the move.

  Reaching his crawler, Sage stripped out of the Makaum clothing and pulled a black hardsuit with Terran Army markings from the equipment saddlebags. He pulled the AKTIVsuit on, then tabbed the sec code into the hidden wrist controller and felt the armor activate, locking into place and hardening up. Medical subroutines came online, comparing Sage’s current condition to what was programmed in the memory. The suit ran on an electromagnetic feed broadcasted from Terran Army satellites in orbit around Makaum.

  The saddlebag yielded a pair of boots and gloves. He pulled on both and felt them lock into the combat suit. Taking out the helmet, he pulled it onto his head, securing it as well. Flexible, ablative scales slid out of the helmet and snaked down around his neck. A reinforced column covered his spinal cord.

  For the moment, the faceshield remained blank. All systems were off-line. Neat letters from the suit’s near-­AI scrolled across the inside of the faceshield.

  State your name and rank.

  “Sage, Frank Nolan. Master Sergeant Terran Army Charlie Company.” Voice recognition confirmed his identity and the helmet came to life. The 360-­degree view opened on the faceshield and a map overlay of his current location ghosted into view over that, spreading out ten klicks from him in all directions. The top-­down view came from the satellite feeds.

  Welcome, Master Sergeant Sage. Your biometrics scan reveals that you are approaching physical exhaustion. Do you require stims?

  “Negative. I’m fine.” Sage didn’t care for the chem cocktails the hardsuit could pump into him. He preferred true clarity of mind.

  He took his weapons out of the armored case strapped under the saddlebag on the right side. He fit the Smith and Wesson .500 Magnum revolver into the shoulder holster under his left arm. The silver reticle that matched up with the weapon instantly dawned on his faceshield, paired by the smartlink in the grip and in the biometric link grain in his palm.

  The Birkeland coilgun triggered a red reticle as Sage slid it into the holster on his right hip. He slung the Roley gauss rifle across his back and made certain the violet reticle for the weapon was present.

  The near-­AI juiced a message across Sage’s faceshield. One member of your present team is not prepared.

  Sage turned slightly. A few meters away, Jahup struggled with his helmet, unable to get the piece locked into place. “Need help?”

  “No.” Jahup sounded irritated. He jerked on the helmet again but still didn’t succeed in pulling it into place.

  Sage ignored the young man’s answer and walked over to him. He took Jahup’s helmet in both of his hands, twisted, and leaned it forward a little, fitting it more precisely into the hardsuit’s collar. The armored plating extended from the helmet and locked into the hardsuit with a series of rapid clinks.

  Through the transparent faceshield, Jahup looked equal parts annoyed and appreciative. “Thank you.”

  “No prob.” Sage dropped an armored fist onto Jahup’s helmet to test the connection. “You have to hold the helmet just right to get it on. Takes time to learn it.” Sage felt guilty because the scout’s training had been abbreviated. Still, having the hardsuit was better than not having it while out in hostile territory. “You keep using it, suiting up will become something you don’t even think about when you do it.”

  “Okay.” Jahup pulled out his own weapons.

  Sage pulled up the note app and made a reminder for himself to make certain Jahup saw the company armorer to ensure the AKTIVsuit was up to spec. Jahup had only recently been issued armor, a hand-­me-­down that had survived when the soldier inside hadn’t. After the scout had agreed to work with the Terran Army following the events of the action against DawnStar, Sage had wanted Jahup properly outfitted. A lot of potential enemies existed within the corps, and Jahup had been identified as one of the soldiers even though he’d only been at the site to save Noojin.

  Jahup hadn’t mentioned his part in the attack on the illegal drug factory to anyone, but word about his presence had gotten around through DawnStar’s ­people who had been at the site. Sage still wasn’t certain where that was going to leave Jahup in the eyes of his own ­people. Some of them lauded him as a hero. Others seemed to think he had betrayed them by taking a position with the Terran Army.

  Noojin, the young girl who worked with Jahup’s hunting band, didn’t like her partner crossing lines. She liked to keep her distance from the Terran Army. Jahup still hunted meat with his band, since those efforts also served as scouting expeditions. Sage figured those trips were a lot more interesting these days than they had been.

  Jahup climbe
d aboard his RDC and switched on the magnetic drive. The crawler shivered to life and rocked forward until Jahup restrained it.

  Back on his own vehicle, Sage brought up the shared comm link. “You lead. I’ll follow.”

  Jahup nodded without turning around, picking up Sage on the 360-­degree view afforded by the helmet. Twisting the throttle, Jahup hunkered down over the crawler and rocketed through the jungle’s underbrush.

  Sage accelerated, following closely behind as they sped through the jungle. Keeping the RDC on track was mind-­numbing as the hardsuit’s AI and past experience kept track of Jahup’s route and the terrain without any real effort on Sage’s part. Idle, without true focus, his head filled with questions concerning the Phrenorian base and what the Sting-­Tails had hiding there.

  EIGHT

  Fort York

  Loki 19 (Makaum—­colloquial)

  0541 Hours Zulu Time

  They’re afraid of us, Sergeant.”

  Sergeant Kjersti Kiwanuka knew the assessment made by the corporal standing next to her was accurate. Kiwanuka didn’t need the hardsuit’s vision multiplier capabilities and body language interpreter software package to recognize the fear that gripped the Makaum onlookers and made them restless while causing them to stand packed together. She’d been in plenty of places where she’d seen it before—­from both sides of that line that kept the two groups separate.

  The Makaum ­people stood well back of the yellow warning laser array that marked the blast hole created during the ambush. The sizzling yellow lines were almost too bright to stare at with the naked eye, and the warning hum that accompanied them intensified when any non-­military person approached.

  The lasers wouldn’t do any real harm if physically encountered, but they did interfere with the central nervous system and render most intelligent creatures nauseous. Unfortunately, most of the life-forms on Makaum didn’t have high-­functioning central nervous systems and went through the lasers with impunity. As a result more soldiers had to be assigned to the barriers to keep out wandering reptiles and the larger insects.