by Mark Wandrey
Rex’s control board flashed a dozen red warnings as the computer struggled for control. Being inexperienced, he fought the automatic system that would have brought him down more or less okay. Instead, he tried to apply more power. The remaining jets flipped him over and into the ground head first. Inside his CASPer, he was slammed into the top of the cockpit and into darkness.
* * *
Veska had been leading her squad around, trying to flank the Humans. Their leader, Porter, was an excellent small unit commander. The bulk of his forces were well trained, and in this strange low-G environment, their powered armor was a sizeable advantage. Each wore the equivalent of a small ship or tank, and could maneuver quickly to avoid a thrust, or advance to take advantage of an opening.
It was damnably frustrating. Enough to make her almost forget she was facing four young Zuul. Not just Zuul, she thought. Hosh! Her mind flashed, trying to find a way to salvage this entropy-cursed situation. So far, no lives had been lost. She had two injured, though minor. The tanks were causing confusion on both sides. The Humans’ armor couldn’t take them out with direct fire, but the tanks were still vulnerable to being overrun. The tanks also kept getting in the way of their own lightly armored troopers.
She was about to ask the captain to consider withdrawing the tanks. Maybe this Porter would rush ahead, hoping to exploit the withdrawal, and she could encircle them. Then instead, one of the CASPers made its crazy assault. What else could she call it, a single armored trooper against 150 tons of fusion-powered tank? Yet, despite all odds, despite any logical reason, the shots penetrated the shield, and the tank’s particle cannon was destroyed!
“Impossible!” she heard someone yell.
Veska shook her head, disbelief fading as she watched. The suit of armor was being operated by a Zuul; that much was clear from its size and shape. The Zuul…was Rex. She didn’t have any logical reason to know, but she was 100% certain of it. He’d led the foolhardy attack against the tank. What bravery. What outrageous courage. He was Hosh, there was no doubt in her heart.
The particle beam from the other tank swatted Rex from the air. It happened too fast for her to understand what exactly had transpired, she only knew that Rex’s suit suddenly careened into the ground and lay still. It didn’t seem like the beam had scored a direct hit, as the suit remained in one piece. Maybe it didn’t need to hit dead on to disable their CASPer suits. She did not know, and it didn’t matter. Rex was down, and the stricken tank saw its opportunity.
The tank turned, and its six treads threw up rock in low-G arcs behind it as the behemoth accelerated toward the downed armor, on track to grind it to dust under 150 tons of alloy.
“No!” Veska screamed.
There was no thought involved as she left concealment, flipping onto the boulder before her and leaping forward. She had a small device on her belt that identified her as a friendly unit, and the tank’s shield let her pass through with only a tingling sensation. She nimbly caught a handhold and flipped forward as well as any acrobat, accelerating her previous leap.
The shot passed the smoldering and sparking debris of the tank’s main gun, over the other turret, and out the front of the shield the same way she entered it. Her legs hit the ground, hard, and she did her best to roll. It was more of a cartwheeling crash, but she fetched up against the side of the CASPer, exactly as she’d intended, if not as gracefully.
Ouch, she thought as an ankle popped. A moment later, her nerves caught up to her mind—now that really hurt. She ignored the pain, forced herself to her feet, faced the tank, and held up both hands. “Stop!” she shouted at the top of her voice, triggering her radio at the same time. “Squad leader Veska speaking, tank respond, you are ordered to stop!”
“Get out of the way, squad leader!” the tank commander replied, not slowing. It loomed like a metal mountain.
“This powered armor holds a Zuul, one of Krif’Hosh!”
The treads threw up more debris, this time toward her. She ducked her head, covering the more vulnerable face shield with her arms. As the dust and debris cleared, she looked to see the tank only a couple of meters away. She could hear over the command channel as the tank commander called the captain, desperately asking for orders.
“Hold your fire,” was the reply. Nillab’s voice was cool on Veska’s comm, and her ears drooped at the disapproval. “Withdraw, for now.”
The tank sat for a long moment, then began to back away. The other also retreated, and she saw her own troopers fall back silently on the tactical display strapped to her arm until every one of them dropped out of view.
Shuddering from the exertion and the throbbing pain shooting up her leg, Veska turned to see three Zuul-shaped powered armor suits come out of cover, all pointing weapons at her. She raised her hands high in the air, the way Humans showed submission. “I surrender.”
The word should have stuck in her throat—she’d never so much as thought it before. But her eyes drifted away from the guns pointed at her to the unresponsive suit at her feet, and she thought nothing of the consequences at all.
* * *
Meesh roared into the command center, claws and teeth bared.
“What under every moon and sea and rusted ships of entropy HAPPENED?” he demanded, tail lashing.
“I had the same question,” the blighted Vergola said, all calm and floaty. Meesh longed to rip out its throat, and his lips peeled back in readiness.
The Zuul captain entered from the other side of the room, and Meesh leaned in her direction, burying his claws in the metal table in front of him to keep from launching at her. She’d been on her ship in orbit during the attack, probably because she’d known about it, possibly because she was a part of it, perhaps because everyone here were traitors united in keeping his people from their rightful rewards.
“I am not sure.” Nillab’s words came as measured as ever, her tone similar to the translator’s mechanical neutrality.
Meesh could nearly smell the lie. What vaunted commander would be so calm after such a poor showing without knowing why? Meesh would have entrails still dripping from his claws if his forces had staggered to such a halt in the middle of battle. Her ears remained politely pointed, her tail still—did she feel nothing, this entropy-ridden old Zuul?
“Perhaps you should theorize, Captain Nillab,” the Vergola said, folding both hands into their opposite sleeves.
“As you know, we were planning to attack later today. The tanks were not part of either of the plans I submitted for attack and defense.”
“I ordered the tanks into combat.” The Vergola looked as unconcerned as ever, but his form vibrated in what Meesh could only assume was a matching rage. “Why have such weapons and not use them?”
“Because they got in the way of my light assault troops.” A snap entered the Zuul’s tone now, though she remained otherwise still. “Because my superior soldiers could not properly flank their attackers and take down the armored threat. Because the disabling of one not yet fully ready for combat—which is why they were not in my plans—is likely what halted the battle.”
“Likely?” Meesh spat, his claws puncturing the surface of the table as he squeezed. Shards stabbed into his hands, which only fed his rage hotter. “You don’t think it was because you are a traitor who halted the battle? Conspiring with Humans, hiding heavy-assault tanks? You don’t think we can tell you have been undercutting this contract all along?”
Nillab’s tail curved high, and she took a full step forward before taking evident hold of herself. “All the progress—and most of the losses—of this contract to date have been on the Zuul side, rather than the Pushtal, and you say these words to me?”
In another setting, Meesh might have backed off from the gleam of the Zuul’s metal-coated teeth, but now he snarled back, desperate to put her in her place.
“Enough!” The Vergola stepped forward, interrupting their line of sight of each other, and raised his hands. “Let us examine video of the battle, then, Capt
ain. Show me the disruption the unexpected tanks caused.”
“I said I am not sure what happened, Fak’l.” Nillab used the Vergola’s name without title or care. Meesh might have huffed in surprised approval, were he not so close to launching himself across the room. “I already attempted to watch recordings of the video on my way here to report. Strangely, they’ve all been deleted.” She stepped forward again, tilting her muzzle down and to the side, her eyes blazing at Meesh and the Vergola both. “Perhaps someone did something they are ashamed of in the battle. By not following the plan?”
A yowl of utter rage yanked out of his chest, and Meesh tasted the blood he so dearly wanted to spill. “Are you implying—do you think—the Zuul—you think—” Adrenaline and bloodlust and liquid hot anger sluiced through him, making words impossible.
“It has, after all, happened many times before. I believe last time you indicated you would not stand for it again, Fak’l?” Nillab turned fully toward the Vergola, polite and attentive.
Meesh would rip every head in this room off its respective spine and use them for play until they rotted. He would spill their intestines and hang them from the ceiling for kits to play with. He would—
“It seems we have chosen poorly on this contract,” the Vergola said, looking up at the ceiling. Both Meesh and Nillab stiffened, but Fak’l took no apparent notice of the thickening tension in the room. Did he not know how close he was to death at Meesh’s claws? “I want the attack resumed. You are returned to the planet, Captain. Ensure it is done.”
“Now?” Nillab cocked her head again, and her tail waved once, definitively, to the side. Meesh, his own tail in constant, twisting motion, knew it for a clear rejection. “Fak’l, it will take hours—three at least—to deal with our wounded and regroup the squads accordingly. Then to stagger appropriately with the Pushtal to best balance the—”
“You have one hour, Captain. I will not be disappointed again. This ends. Today.” He turned without looking at either of them and swept out of the room.
Meesh ripped his claws out of the table and glared across the room at Nillab. She returned his gaze until he blinked, then left in the direction from which she’d entered.
He was going to kill everyone.
But not yet. With a ragged breath, he composed himself enough to send a message to Skeesh. The Pushtal, at least, would be ready to end this today, indeed.
* * * * *
Chapter 13
Classified Engineering Guild Holding—E’cop’k System
Rex opened still-bleary eyes into the middle of an argument. He forced himself to blink a few times, then wriggled his ears until the ebb and flow of voices resolved themselves into words.
“—nothing about that is final; she could change her mind.”
“The captain understands that circumstances have changed. I’m sure if we give her more information, she’ll be able to—”
“That hardly changes—”
Rex flapped his ears again, harder. His father’s voice he expected, after his stunt in the battle. But he couldn’t actually be hearing Veska?
“She is the most decorated—”
“That’s hardly—”
“Rex!” Sonya’s voice cut across the rest the moment he moved his arms to push himself upright. “Pause on that. Brother, you took a ripper of a hit to your head.” She loomed into focus above him, and he blinked again.
“Sunny. Thought I heard—”
“Zuul have hard heads. Expected you awake before this.” Another Zuul appeared behind Sonya, and he breathed in more deeply. The expected scents of all of his siblings and his father, a faded hint of Bana, and…
Female. Insho’Ze. Veska.
“He did slam it pretty impressively,” Ripley said, and Rex meant to turn his head to look at her, but his eyes were glued to the one Zuul in the room he wasn’t related to.
“Took out the tank, though,” he managed, ungluing his tongue from the roof of his mouth.
“Disabled the big gun, at least,” Veska replied, and Sonya shifted out of the way with a drop-jawed grin.
A moment later Veska’s nose was buried in his neck, and he turned his head and bit her shoulder without thought.
“Get a room!” Drake announced, and something bounced off Rex’s legs.
He didn’t bother to look to see what it was. “I believe this is my room,” he said, voice muffled in Veska’s fur.
“It’s a shared room, idiot!”
Alan cleared his throat, and that took the two of them apart again. “We were talking with your…friend,” Alan gestured to Veska. “She was telling us about her commander on site.”
“Captain Nillab,” Veska said. “She is a legend among the Zuul…” Veska glanced at Rex, her tail twitching. “Outside the Hosh, though she once fought for one.”
“There’s that word again,” Alan said. “Is it related to Krif’Hosh?”
“You know of the Hosh?” Veska gasped.
“The ones I got these five from, they used the name Krif’Hosh. Crent was their commander.” Alan looked at the five young Zuul and sighed. “We were performing a mission on Gephard alongside the Zuul unit. It went to shit, and we couldn’t disengage long enough to get away. We weren’t exactly friendly on the contract, just pushed together on the same side.” He shrugged. “I thought we were all buggered. Then Crent came and made me an offer. Take these young Zuul, and they’d cover our retreat off world. They stayed behind and died so you could live.”
Despite obvious pain, Veska fell to her knees and keened. Rex slid from the bed and touched her.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, afraid she’d been seriously injured. He knew the drive to hide more intense pain rather than admitting to it.
“Crent,” she sobbed. “And on Gephard. Don’t you know what this means?”
“We were there,” Shadow said. “But Dad never told us all of it.”
“Why not?” Sonya asked.
“I tried to make contact with the Zuul government. I guess the message never made it to the correct people?”
Veska shook her head over and over, then Rex realized she wasn’t crying or in pain, she was exulting in something. “That’s the final piece,” she said. “The details to remove any doubt. I can prove it now to Captain Nillab without question.”
“What?” Rex demanded. “Prove what?”
“You five are Krif’Hosh! Our third son is returned to us!”
“The Hosh are like legendary warriors, right?” Drake asked.
“Legendary? No,” Veska said. “More like our soul, the spirit of Zuul, closest to the gods. They speak through you.” She looked at Shadow. “They give you dreams.”
Shadow shook visibly, taking a step back and half-turning away.
“You’ve had dreams all your life, haven’t you?” she asked. “I wondered, when Sei Isgono took such interest.”
Rex stared at Shadow, his eyes wide, and registered that their other three siblings were having nearly identical reactions. They’d known of their youngest brother’s interest in Human visions, spirit woo-woo, and the like, but this…The weight of it became solid between them, what it could mean. Shadow’s fur stood straight down his back, his ears up, tail stiff. He nodded once, licked his lips, and opened his mouth, but didn’t speak.
“We never knew what happened to Krif’Hosh, only that they disappeared on Gephard. The other two Hosh searched for years to find any sign, any hint of their survival.” She looked at their dad. “Nobody imagined pups had survived, never mind that they had been given to a Human.”
“It was their only choice,” Alan said, quickly recounting the nearly hopeless situation and his company’s escape with Krif’Hosh’s sacrifice. “I never understood why they stayed and died.”
“Honor demanded it,” Veska said, her voice quivering with emotions the translator barely conveyed. “Crent knew their lives were over. Zuul never run. However, he found a way to save the Hosh.” She looked at Rex. “To save you.”
&
nbsp; “This is great news,” Alan said. “But it doesn’t change our situation. We’re still stuck in this contract.”
“Yes you are,” a new, high-pitched voice said.
* * *
Shadow’s mind was still reeling from the revelations when Ifka’s voice threw cold water in his face. He turned and saw the Zuparti standing there with two assistants and a slate in her hand. That weasel is about to chuck a wobbly, he thought.
“How dare you abandon the assault!” Ifka screamed and held up the slate. The Tri-V came on and showed force distribution, including the tanks and foot units. It also showed them retreating. “Data from your suits, relayed to the command center. You retreated just as the enemy was falling back after you wrecked one of their tanks. You even have a prisoner. Explain yourself.”
“They weren’t retreating,” Alan explained, and gestured to Veska, who was still on the floor. “She stopped their attack to save one of my troopers.” He pointed at Rex.
“One Zuul saving another, so what?”
“It’s much more complicated than that,” Veska said. She glanced at Alan. “Do you remember who the employer was on Gephard?”
Alan looked at her, blinking, then his eyes went wide, and he turned to Ifka. “Is one of your guild facilities on Gephard?”
Ifka looked like she’d been smacked in the face. Shadow had never seen the wind so thoroughly taken out of an alien’s sails. It was rather shocking.
“What…what do you know…” Ifka seemed to bring herself under control. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You bloody, sneaky bastards,” Alan snarled. “You guys hire tons of mercs. We Humans have always thought it was because you’re paranoid, but that’s not it. Well, you are paranoid, but what’s really happening is, you’ve been fighting to hold onto your Astatine-222 monopoly as hard as you could. You’ve been fighting for decades, or maybe longer. Shit contracts with long odds, over and again.” The two other Zuparti glanced at their boss, then pretended to look at their own slates. “Tell me I’m wrong; I fuckin’ dare you.”