by Wayne Basta
Maarkean conceded, “All right, grab what you can, and let’s go. Gamaly, focus on explosives so we have something to use on the vehicles.”
While everyone took their packs off their backs and started filling them with anything that would fit, Maarkean looked around for communication equipment. He was tired of not being able to communicate with his team members because of the unencrypted commercial gear they had. He found a rack of comm units and stuffed his bag with several.
Once he’d loaded his bag, Maarkean walked over to the two still-unconscious guards. He drew his pistol and checked the setting. Out of the corner of his eye, he vaguely registered that Gu’od had stopped his looting and was watching him, his whole body tense. He fired two stun bolts into the guards, and saw Gu’od relax.
Did he actually think I was going to kill defenseless soldiers? Maarkean wondered as he walked away.
That Gu’od might think him capable of that disturbed him. What was he becoming that those around him, those he considered friends, thought that about him?
For his part, he was reassured that Gu’od had looked relieved at the stun bolts. Before, he had been concerned that the others might not have any concern with killing Alliance soldiers. They were the enemy, after all.
Once everyone was loaded down with as much as they could fit in their bags, Zeric led them out the front door. While the loading dock door would be safe from view of the barracks, it would be clearly visible to the guards at the hangar. Until they got past them, opening it would just give them away.
Once outside, the darkness was greater than before with the deterioration of his night vision. Maarkean activated his new goggles, and the world around him lit up. Switching through the settings, he did a quick infrared check to see if there was anybody else out in the night. Nothing stood out, so he switched back to night vision.
Zeric had acquired a pair of the goggles, too, and took point again. Without some modifications, the goggles would not fit on Gamaly’s or Gu’od’s heads. Maarkean brought up the rear so that the two temporarily blinded team members were in the middle.
Reaching the garage was going to prove more difficult than reaching the armory had been. There was an empty, well-lit concrete expanse between the two buildings. That provided them with no cover, and Maarkean could clearly make out the two guards standing near the garage.
Zeric halted them at the corner of the armory before the concrete expanse. He surveyed the area and then turned to whisper to the group, “If I use Gamaly’s new assault rifle on sniper mode, I can probably take both guards out before they can call for help.”
Given Gu’od’s look earlier, Maarkean stressed, “Stun setting only unless we have no choice. Besides, if you miss, we’re done for. Even if you don’t, your shots could be heard. Too dangerous.”
“I won’t miss,” Zeric protested. Then he conceded, “But you’re right. And I can’t do it on stun from this range.”
“We go around,” Gu’od said. “It will take longer, but if we can sneak close enough, I can take them out silently again.”
Maarkean nodded agreement. “Zeric, Gamaly, stay here. If we’re discovered, take them out from a distance and then run like hell to join us.”
Zeric nodded, and then he and Gamaly settled themselves into sniping positions. Maarkean, being the only one who could see clearly in the dark, led the way. Sticking to the grassy edge of the concrete field, outside the light, he led them across to the side of the garage opposite where Zeric and Gamaly remained.
The position the guards were occupying lay almost in the dead center of the northern wall. There were fewer lights coming from the south side, however. Maarkean led them across the north face, and then down the eastern side so that they came completely around the large building. They moved as quickly as they could while staying stealthy, but he hoped Zeric wouldn’t get impatient.
Once around the building, Gu’od took over the point position. He edged along the building toward the edge of the lights. Maarkean followed behind him and deactivated the goggles. The lights around the guards provided more than enough illumination.
There was a gap of about a dozen meters between where the light started and where the guards were standing. Neither of the guards made any show of looking in their direction, but it would only take a small shift. The two were talking quietly and glancing occasionally around the well-lit tarmac.
Maarkean hoped Gu’od could cover the distance to them before either turned in their direction. It was a relatively short distance, but as fit as he was, Gu’od was not a star athlete, and it would take him several seconds to traverse. Readying himself, Maarkean took aim at the guard the furthest away. Gu’od would be able to reach the first one even if they were spotted; it was the second one that would have time to act.
With a quick pat on his shoulder, Maarkean let Gu’od know he was ready. Launching himself from a crouch, Gu’od dashed across the open area toward the guards. As Maarkean feared, the sudden movement and sound of Gu’od running drew their attention. There was a shout from one of the guards before Gu’od reached his first target. Not taking any chances, Maarkean fired on the second.
The two guards dropped almost simultaneously. Maarkean tensed, expecting alarms to go off and search lights to fill the area. Gu’od remained where he was, over the guards, ready to move. Several seconds went by, and nothing happened.
Gu’od bent to remove the ID cards from the guards while Maarkean continued to scan the area. He heard the sound of movement in the darkness and turned to look across the tarmac. The sight of Zeric and Gamaly approaching relieved his nerves.
The door to the garage swung open, and Maarkean moved to join Gu’od. They grabbed the two guards and pulled them inside while the other two caught up. Not waiting, Maarkean put a stun bolt into the guard Gu’od had attacked. That made four guards who would be out for several hours at least.
Once everyone was inside, Gu’od flipped on the lights. The garage lit up, and Maarkean was again awestruck by firepower. The garage stretched out a hundred meters in either direction and was filled with vehicles. He identified at least a dozen battle tanks, multiple shielded personnel carriers, and a plethora of other vehicle types.
“I don’t think I brought enough explosives,” Gamaly lamented.
“Let’s focus on the SPCs and other personal transports. The tanks don’t make good pursuit vehicles,” Zeric said, taking some of the explosives from Gamaly’s pack. “Also, spread them out to every other vehicle, and see if you can find the fuel tanks.”
They each took a section of the garage and placed explosives. They tied each set to a single remote detonator to allow for simultaneous detonation. It was not long before they had run out of explosives.
When Zeric finished his set, he went to power up one of the SPCs. Maarkean joined him, saying, “Wouldn’t one of the trucks provide more storage space for our ill-gotten goods?”
“Yes,” Zeric said. “But I know I would rather run in a shielded vehicle than a fragile truck, wouldn’t you? Plus, I think this thing will fit in the Cutty Sark cargo bay. Make a nice profit on it alone.”
Maarkean wasn’t as confident it would fit as Zeric was, but he did like having shields. They weren’t perfect protection, and there were plenty of weapons that they were ineffective against, but they were still better than nothing. The SPC would also be armored, which would help where the shields didn’t. Cargo trucks wouldn’t have armor or shields.
“All right,” Maarkean said as the group gathered at the vehicle Zeric had selected. “Get over to the armory and load as much as you can. I’ll join you in a few moments.”
Zeric gave him a questioning look. “What are you going to do?”
“Close the garage behind you to contain the explosion,” Maarkean replied.
Zeric nodded and pushed the other two toward the SPC. They hefted the two unconscious guards onboard with them. Once they were onboard, Maarkean shut off the lights and opened the garage’s massive door. Zeric at the
controls, the SPC lifted off the ground about a meter, and then eased slowly ahead and across the concrete field toward the armory.
Pacing the short corridor between the flight deck and the crew lounge was starting to get old. The cramped space provided little ability for Saracasi to change direction and nothing interesting to look at. She considered moving down to the cargo deck or outside the ship, but then she wouldn’t be near the comm station if word came in.
She had tried sitting, napping, reading and working in the engine room. All had been marginally successful until night fell. Once the sun went down, the only thing she could think about was the fact that the others were now beginning the operation. Their chances of being discovered, shot and killed were going up and up.
Lahkaba and Lohcja were calmly playing a game in the crew lounge. She did not know how they managed it. They had been left behind as well, and they had been the most eager to see this raid through.
Every time she walked into the crew lounge, Lohcja looked up, his mandibles spread wide like he wanted to say something. But, every time, he glanced at Lahkaba and went back to the game. Saracasi wasn’t sure if she appreciated being left alone or wished one of them would say something.
Aside from worrying about Maarkean and the others, Saracasi’s mind drifted to thoughts of Asirzi. It tore at her that she had not had a chance to say a real goodbye to her friend. At the time, she had not thought it would be goodbye. She had been expecting to return to Irod to deliver Lahkaba and Lohcja. Their decision not to rejoin their friends had surprised her. Now she didn’t know if she would ever see Asirzi again.
That would be unfortunate, but she tried to tell herself it was no big deal. She had only known the woman for a few days, and while she thought that there had been something growing between them, it wasn’t really more than an infatuation. Maybe someday it could have been more, but she would never know now. Now she had more pressing worries to contend with than lost loves.
Tiring of the pacing, she stopped in the crew lounge and watched the two of them play. It was Siege, a strategy game for two that she and Maarkean had played a lot. He had beaten her almost every time at first, but she had gotten the hang of the game after a time. Recently their matches had reached a point where they were evenly matched, and as he said, they’d “finally become fun.”
She watched the game for several turns. Both Lohcja and Lahkaba missed several opportunities to cause serious harm to the other. Neither were stellar players, but Lahkaba appeared to have the upper hand. It was hard not commenting on their moves, but she knew how annoying that was.
The pacing had been annoying her, but standing in silence became even more irritating. Saracasi broke the silence with an exasperated sigh. “How can you both just sit there? We’re stuck here on the ship while our friends are risking their lives.”
Lohcja shrugged as he moved a piece. “Trust me, I agree with you. But there’s not much I can do at the moment. I’d like to be out there with them, but I’m not.”
With a sigh, Saracasi took a seat on one of the couches across from the other two. She decided to try to focus on something else. “Lahkaba, why did you get involved in all this? Lohcja said before that he did it to help you?”
Lohcja moved a piece on the board, and Saracasi cringed. It was a move that looked good, but could cost him the game.
Lahkaba cast a curious look at his friend before replying, “I’ve been friends with Lohcja most of our lives. When I was chosen as a representative, my wife left me. He came into hiding with me because he was worried about me.”
The strength of Lahkaba and Lohcja’s friendship confounded Saracasi, especially compared to Lahkaba’s apparently weaker marriage. She wasn’t sure she had ever had a friend she would do that for. Risking her life and livelihood for a cause she believed in – or risking her life to save a friend from death – was one thing. But just to give them support?
“As to how I became involved in all this, that’s not an easy question to answer. Let’s just say I believe in the goals of the Sector Congress and feel the Alliance has abused its power,” Lahkaba continued.
“What exactly is the Kreogh Sector Congress?” Saracasi asked. “I try to keep up with current events, and I’ve heard of it, but the details were all contradictory.”
“The Congress was a meeting held by representatives from all seven Alliance colonies in the sector. The colonies in Trepon and Loisa sectors were invited, but they never replied, though they are smaller and more isolated than we are,” Lahkaba answered.
“Anyway, complaints to the Alliance about some of the rules and mandates they had put into place were going un-heard, and it was hoped a united front from all the colonies would have more weight. Because this sort of meeting was only quasi-legal, the names of the representatives chosen by each planet were kept secret. Though, apparently, not secret enough.”
“What happened at the meeting?” Saracasi asked. She had heard about the Congress being called, but that had been months ago, and she had heard nothing about it since. While she tried to stay informed, it wasn’t always possible when traveling in space.
Lahkaba shrugged. “There was a lot of debate about how best to approach the Alliance. I, along with Lei-mey and the other Sulas delegates, were disappointed with the result. We were hoping for a strong united stand by the colonies, but what they came up with was a compromise petition. Lei-mey called it worthless. I wouldn’t go quite that far.”
“But you said you did send something to the Alliance, right? Some united document?” Saracasi asked.
Nodding, Lahkaba said, “Yes. A document was sent that outlined our grievances and was signed by all the colonies. It’s a three month journey to Braz, so the message didn’t get there but a few weeks ago. It could be some time before there is any response. At least, formal response. The response by Sulas’ Alliance governor was to call for the arrest of all participants. That’s why I went into hiding.”
“Will the Congress meet again?”
“There were plans to meet after the Alliance sent their reply,” Lahkaba said and then looked at the game board. “Damn. How did that happen?’
Lohcja had made a move that cornered several of Lahkaba’s pieces. The conversation dropped off as the two renewed their focus on the game. Lahkaba put up a valiant struggle, but was unable to recover from his earlier mistake. Saracasi lost herself in watching the game for a while. It was a surprise when the comm alarm sounded.
Dashing toward the flight deck, Saracasi activated the comm and heard Maarkean’s voice saying, “Cutty Sark, come in, Cutty Sark.”
It surprised her that Maarkean was so openly using the ship’s name over the open comm channel.
“We read you, strike team,” she answered.
“We’re coming in. Meet us at rendezvous point Bravo.”
“Acknowledged. ETA?”
“Five minutes.”
Quickly moving to the pilot seat, Saracasi fired up the engines. They had designated a few locations for alternative meeting points in case they couldn’t make it to where the ship was parked. Bravo was closer to the Alliance base, right on a road running through an open field.
Saracasi started to shout back to the other two, but she caught herself when she saw they were both standing right behind her. She chided herself for not realizing they would have followed her. Instead of filling them in, she told them to power up the turret.
Lifting the ship up off the ground and above the tree line, she fired the engines and headed toward the rendezvous point. She was not nearly as good a pilot as Maarkean, or even Zeric, but she could manage to get from point A to point B. She just had to fly higher than the other two would have.
It was a trip of a matter of moments, but as she took the ship back down, she saw a bulky armored vehicle floating down the road at high speed. Lahkaba identified it as an Alliance SPC. Lohcja, who had taken the operations station, said he saw no other vehicles on the ship’s sensors. Saracasi wasn’t sure if this was their pickup
, or if they had missed them and this was the pursuit.
Her question was answered when Maarkean called over the comm again. “Cutty Sark, we see you. Set down along the road and we’ll bring our vehicle right onboard. We’re going to want to make a quick departure.”
Looking down at the vehicle, Saracasi wasn’t sure if it would fit inside the cargo bay. There was hardly anything down there, but the SPC was pretty bulky. Without taking the time to do detailed measurements, there was only one way to find out. She took the ship down and oriented it forward along the road.
Lohcja got up from the operations station and ran down to the cargo bay to open the door. After a few moments, a shudder went through the ship and she could hear the teeth-grinding sound of metal scraping against metal. At least Maarkean couldn’t be mad at her for scraping his ship. It had been his idea.
Several minutes later, Saracasi and Lahkaba were joined on the flight deck by Maarkean. He came in hurriedly, and Saracasi wasted no time in giving up the pilot seat and moving to operations. Maarkean took the controls and immediately lifted the ship off the ground again.
“Where are we going?” Lahkaba asked.
“Away from here,” Maarkean said curtly.
Surprised, Saracasi said, “We promised to meet Owrik again afterward to let him know how the operation went.”
Hardly paying attention to them, Maarkean fired the engines and the ship gained altitude. “He’ll find out how it went soon enough. But if we don’t leave here in a very visible way, those soldiers might decide to search the nearby settlements.”
“You think they’ll retaliate against the locals?” Saracasi asked incredulously. “They didn’t do anything.”
“Didn’t they?” Maarkean asked sharply. “They let known fugitives go, and they helped smuggle those same fugitives into a secure facility.”
Saracasi considered her brother’s words. The risk to the colonists had not occurred to her. They had not raised a weapon against the Alliance forces. There should be no way that their involvement could be traced. But the harder she thought about it, the more she realized she was wrong.
