Ven took a deep breath, readied the rifle, and opened the door quickly while Rsach covered the hallway.
“Damn it, Tyrn,” Ven growled. He pushed the door all the way open, exposing a completely empty storage room. “That’s a big no on the equipment.” He shot Tyrn an aggravated look.
“Hey, the guy said our stuff was in there…” He held up his paws defensively. “Maybe they moved it. Maybe I heard him wrong. It’s not my fault it’s not there.”
“That’s enough,” Rsach barked. “From both of you.”
“You two sound like a couple of cadets,” Vresh said under her breath, but it was loud enough to prompt scowls from both of them.
Rsach turned to her. “Not helping,” he said. “Now, let’s find a way out of here.”
“Back the way we came?” Tyrn asked.
“Not yet,” Rsach said. “When they find the room empty, they’ll probably assume we headed for the exit. I want to see what’s around that corner. Maybe there’s another way out of here. Most buildings like this have utility access passages, service elevators, and even sewer outlets.” He looked at Ven. “We reverse the order. You take the back, and I’ll take the lead.”
Ven nodded and closed the door as Rsach took off.
Rsach rounded the corner and found another long hallway with two doors in the middle and one at the far end that had a small window in it. He crept along the hall, opened one door and then the other and found another empty storage room and one full of cleaning supplies and bathroom products stacked on an array of shelves. He moved quickly down the hall, and when he reached the end, he peered through the window.
“Perfect,” he said. “Stairs going up and down.” He tried the door as the others caught up but found that it was locked.
“If I had my equipment,” Vresh said sourly, “I could pick the lock.”
Rsach looked up at the ceiling and then through the window again.
“I have something almost as good.” He pointed to an air duct directly above them. “There’s one on the other side.” He looked at Tyrn. “Come here,” he said. “You get to be a ladder.”
“Great,” Tyrn mumbled.
Tyrn quickly got into position, and Vresh scrambled up his body, using his clothes for purchase. She balanced on one of his shoulders and pried open the duct with the knife. When it came loose, she handed it down to Tyrn.
“Hand this back up once I’m inside,” she said.
She crawled through the opening, and when she’d disappeared, Tyrn handed up the grate. Vresh’s head poked out, and she plucked it from his outstretched paw. She quickly pulled it back into place, and they heard the soft rattle of her many pincers moving through the duct.
A moment later, the duct on the far side fell through the opening, and Vresh dropped down after it. She had the door open a few seconds later and motioned for Tyrn to step up again. When he did, she grabbed the grate, scrambled up his body, and covered up the open duct.
“Up or down?” she asked, turning to Rsach.
“Up,” he said immediately. He pulled the used power cell from the pistol and replaced it with a fresh one. “We don’t know what we’ll find up there, but we should treat this like an assault. Two teams. Corner to corner leapfrogging. Shoot to kill and save the ammo. The main floor is two above us. We come out a floor above that and look for a way out of here that circumvents the main entrance.”
“Understood,” Ven said.
Without another word, Rsach moved up the stairwell with Vresh behind him. When he got to the first landing, he motioned for Ven to take the next stretch.
I hope this works, he thought. If not, they would be cut to pieces in a firefight.
* * * * *
Chapter Twenty-Six
Godannii 2
Three km Northwest of Moppicut City
Built into the slate strapped to the inside of Hr’ent’s left forearm was a tracking device linked to the equipment pallet. The simple beacon—designed to withstand as much damage as a shuttle’s black box—let him know how much forest he’d put between himself and the burning clearing he’d left 15 klicks behind without having to slow his movement. The fight with the Jivool had been bloody and ferocious, enough so that Hr’ent was now worried about running into more Jivool like that one. He’d never seen someone move that fast, and if he hadn’t made planet-fall as an enhanced Oogar, he would have lost that fight. It was why he’d removed the armor. He wanted all of his speed and reflexes functioning optimally, not encumbered by dead weight.
Following the excruciatingly slow exec had kept them moving at a snail’s pace, but with each step, the smell of the burning city grew stronger. An impatient glance told him he was three meters closer than the last time he checked. Walking behind the injured ISMC exec had cost him hours of travel time, but he knew he should never turn his back on a prisoner, and he wouldn’t pick up the Jivool and carry him, despite the temptation.
The sun had been up for hours, and as they moved through the forest, Hr’ent stayed at least four meters behind the Jivool. Executive or not, his prisoner had claws and would likely use them at the first opportunity. Hr’ent would take counsel of his fears and, therefore, no chances. The executive, Venna, limped badly on both legs. He’d clearly received a nanite treatment from the other Jivool and wisely kept moving to avoid crippling stiffness. Still, travel was murderously slow, and Hr’ent fought the urge to brush past the Jivool and close the distance to the city as fast as his legs would carry him.
Venna stopped and leaned heavily against a tree. Hr’ent could hear the exec’s labored breathing as he stepped around the tree and studied the Jivool’s pained face.
“Sorry,” Venna said. “My legs are on fire.”
Hr’ent said nothing and kept his eyes on the Jivool. They were just four kilometers from the edge of the city, or at least that was what his map indicated. Keeping an eye on Venna, Hr’ent searched his peripheral vision and saw a faint glow of sky through the trees and brush a few meters away. A clearing was just ahead.
“Keep moving,” Hr’ent said. He made eye contact with the Jivool. “That fire in your legs means the nanites your friend gave you are working.”
Venna snorted. “My…friend didn’t say it would hurt so much.”
Hr’ent nodded, and a wry smile crossed his muzzle. “First time, huh?”
“Yes,” Venna replied. “Is it always this bad?”
Definitely a suit. Just my luck.
“Depends on the wound,” Hr’ent replied. He gestured with his muzzle in the direction of the clearing. “Move out into the clearing where there’s some daylight, and we’ll take a break.”
Venna took a deep breath and lurched forward. The promise of rest appeared to be a motivating factor, Hr’ent decided. Ten shuffling steps later, they broke into the clearing. In the late morning sun, Hr’ent saw a pall of smoke that filled the forest and grew thicker above the canopy.
Venna slumped to the ground and leaned against the bole of a tree. “Gods, that hurts.”
Hr’ent clenched his jaw and said nothing in return. Begrudgingly, he had to give the suit his due. Hr’ent had endured rehab with nanites after the shuttle crash. He knew what that pain was like. And he’d been pushing Venna pretty hard, despite the slow pace. Suit or not, Venna had kept pushing himself, too, which said a good deal about his determination and mettle.
Hr’ent pulled off his rucksack and silently worked it open. He rummaged around through its cavernous insides, picking past the rations, power cells for his PK-40, and water bulbs, until his eyes came to rest on the trauma kit.
He looked down at Venna. The Jivool’s breathing was somewhat easier, but it was obvious he was still in a considerable amount of pain. Hr’ent dug through the kit, his digits searching through the pre-packaged medications and hypo-syringes.
He pulled out a paper and plastic envelope, guaranteed sterile, and opened it. As he knelt by Venna, the Jivool’s eyes opened.
“I’m sure that first shot I gave you h
as worn off. I’ll give you this. It’s something for the pain,” Hr’ent said, “and it should make the rest of our trek a little easier.”
“Can I trust you?” The executive almost laughed. “You have nothing in that kit for Jivool.”
“General care, like that first shot. This is a non-steroidal anti-inflammatory medication. At this dosage, it’s a general application. It won’t shut off your pain receptors, but it will dull them a bit.”
Venna glanced at the syringe and back up into Hr’ent’s face. “Fine.”
Hr’ent adjusted the pressurized injector to its maximum setting—the ideal for Jivool, Oogar, and other thick-skinned species—and aimed the large gauge needle at Venna’s uninjured arm.
“You might feel a little pinch.” Hr’ent almost smiled as he pulled the trigger.
Venna howled. “Gods, what was that?’
“Easy.” Hr’ent put the injector away. “It takes a couple of minutes to take effect.”
Rubbing his arm, Venna leaned his head against the tree and closed his eyes. Satisfied, Hr’ent continued rummaging through the remainder of the pack. At the bottom, he found what he was looking for. He pulled out the extra combat knife and quickly rigged it to the webbing along his lower left leg. Now he had two, including the one held grip down in his vest.
You can never have too many knives, he thought with a wicked grin. And then an annoying realization crashed into his brain. Hr’ent hadn’t checked in since he cut the connection during the drop. He shook his head. He wasn’t looking forward to hearing what Graa’vaa and Hak had to say about his brash decision, but he couldn’t really put it off any longer.
It was time to find out if the satlink gear had survived the landing. He opened a side pouch on his rucksack, one designed specifically for the Peacemaker-proprietary equipment. He pulled out the small but potent transmitter and gave it a once-over. “No time like the present,” he said under his breath.
Once it was connected to his earpiece, he would be able to establish communications beyond line-of-sight. Blue Flight standard operating procedures in orbital operations included the deployment of half-meter, mini-satellites capable of tracking and relaying the specific Ka band frequency of the radio set. They were certainly beyond the horizon by now and had likely deployed the satellites. He snorted, swung out the antenna boom, and flipped the primary power switch, and he was delighted to see the status lights go from crimson to amber to blue. He worked the device back into the standardized pocket and unfurled the small, wire-mesh antenna. He hit another switch and heard a chime as the comms unit connected to his earpiece. Before closing the rucksack and securing it, one digit hesitated over the ready/activate button on the top of the comm set.
I don’t need them. The statement blared in his mind, no doubt thrown up by the Feral part of his psyche. He was torn between Hak’s notion of team and his desire to solve all his problems like he always had—alone.
With a frustrated snarl, he closed the rucksack and slung it onto his back. The weight didn’t bother him, nor did it affect his balance. What did bother him was the tightness of the strap across his previously injured shoulder. With a grimace, he adjusted the strap to a manageable position and walked over to Venna who sat with his mouth slightly open and stared glassy-eyed into the dark sky.
“You okay?” Hr’ent asked.
Venna’s head lolled toward him. “I think so,” he slurred.
Hr’ent sighed. Great, he’s over-medicated. How soft is this piece of Izlian shit?
“Get up, Venna. We need to keep moving.”
The Jivool wobbled as he stood. Hr’ent pointed toward the south where the chaos of Moppicut City lay waiting for them. “That way.”
This is going to take forever. Hr’ent looked up into the sky, peering through the thickening haze and, to his surprise, a passage from the Koduzai’Vahsh came clearly to his mind. He’d only finished about a third of the book before the drop, and it still lay on his bunk aboard the Blue Flight transport, but what he’d read had stuck with him.
All things in the forest come and go as they will. One cannot hasten the prey to one’s lure. Only patience and existing fully in each passing moment will see the kill made and the meal prepared for one’s kin.
It was from a passage spoken by Kro’muth, the Third Forest Lord of B’nar. Kro’muth had come across as a wise and peaceful leader of his people and a ferocious warrior and hunter. He had found a balance between the necessities of existing in such a harsh and dangerous environment and building a society around him. Of the four heroes Hr’ent had read about thus far, Kro’muth had resonated with him the most, perhaps because he manifested the very struggle Hr’ent dealt with every day. He was constantly at odds controlling the brutality of the Feral within him and the need to navigate civilized environs, Peacemaker regulations, and his own sense of decency and justice.
His anger at having to work with a team abated and gave way to something he wouldn’t call peacefulness, but more a state of awareness of his place. Not just his place on the planet, or even his mission, but of his place in a larger existence. The Feral sated, Hr’ent resumed the painfully slow trek toward Moppicut.
As he trudged behind the wounded Jivool, Hr’ent tried to conjure up a picture of the city and the situation from his memory of the data Graa’vaa had shown him, but it was all a blur. The more he tried to remember, the fewer details his mind could fill in. Walking blindly into a combat situation was not an option. Intelligence was necessary, and as the thought hit him, he realized his flippant treatment of the intelligence officer had been at least as foolish as what he’d done during the jump.
He shook his head, frustrated with himself. Still a rookie, he thought.
They’d sent him with an intelligence specialist for a reason, and he now understood that more than he ever had. However, Graa’vaa and especially Hak had tried to control his every move, and that’s what pissed him off.
Always at odds with myself. The realization blazed before his eyes like a neon sign.
He’d walked barely 500 meters when he realized what had to be done. He stopped, pulled one of his arms through the strap of his rucksack, and swung it around. Reaching into a carefully designed fold in the rucksack’s exterior, he pushed a digit into the radio set compartment. He found the switch and turned it on before slipping the pack back on.
* * *
Godannii 2
Peacemaker Blue Flight
“This is E-H-Actual for Blue One, do you copy? Over.”
Graa’vaa’s paw shot out and snapped the transmit switch much faster than Hak believed she could move. With her other paw, she tapped her earpiece.
“It’s about time, you fumbling idiot.”
There was silence on the connection for a moment, before Hr’ent’s deep voice softly replied, “You’re absolutely right. I deserve that.”
“You certainly do!” she growled again. “I told you this was a team effort. I don’t care how fast and strong and brutal you think you are, you cannot do this alone.”
“I need an intelligence update, Graa’vaa. I get that. I was brash, hot-headed, and perhaps even a little stupid.”
Hak watched her take a slow, deep breath. The hesitation was long enough for him to consider activating his own headset.
Graa’vaa sat forward.
“More than a little stupid, Hr’ent, but I’ll take that as an apology, even without hearing the words.”
Hr’ent paused for several heartbeats as the silence hung between them. “Thanks…”
She paused again, and her tone was a bit softer. “I suspect that was one of the hardest things you’ve ever had to do.”
“You have no idea,” he replied with the distant hint of an edge to his voice. “Now, can you stop yelling and give me the update?”
“Fair enough,” she said, and most of the heat had left her voice. “I’ll brief you. First, where are you? What’s your status?” she asked as she tapped on the screen trying to locate his position.
>
“The jump was good. I landed fine.” They didn’t need all the gory details. “The pallet was damaged—which wasn’t my fault, I’d like to add. I’m down weapons and other gear, but I have my PK, extra power cells, a few grenades, the trauma kit, and enough general supplies to keep me going for a while. I was attacked by two Jivool at the pallet and killed one of them. The other is an injured ISMC suit named Venna from the communications section. I think he was on a shuttle that might have gone down. He said something about them moving for several days.”
Graa’vaa tapped furiously. “Copy that. Where are you now?”
They heard him sigh. “I’m guessing four klicks or less from the outskirts of Moppicut. What’s the situation there?”
“Still a genuine shit-show. The ISMC brought in a mercenary company. They’re Veetanho, but I haven’t been able to figure out what company they are. They’re running mostly radio silent. Real professionals. Unfortunately, they’ve been targeting non-combatants in the city, so it’s a complete disaster, bordering on genocide. We did manage to locate the Peacemaker team.”
“Where are they?”
“Being held hostage by the GenSha in an ISMC Emergency Relief facility they captured just north of the city. The Veetanho haven’t done more than a few reconnoiters and light mortar work—I’m guessing simple probing—and have kept their ops focused on the west side of the city.”
Hr’ent chuckled. “That facility is between me and the city. I think I’m just north and maybe a little west of it.”
Graa’vaa’s mouth worked silently for a moment. “Can you turn on your guidance package, assuming it wasn’t damaged?”
There was an electronic chirp from the console. “It’s activated,” Hr’ent said.
“We have you. You’re 3.7 kilometers northwest of Moppicut City. Your bearing for the compound is one-seven-four. Distance is about two and a half klicks.”
“Copy, two and a half bearing one-seven-four. What’s the situation there?”
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