Soo thought exactly that. Why wouldn’t he? Minith were born to dominate, to take what they needed regardless of the impact to others. This was especially true when considering other races. Minith were… superior.
“Your ears give you away, Soo. I see that you do think that,” Rala said. “Your brother never had any such illusion.”
The comparison—not a flattering one—got Soo’s attention.
“Treel was an ideologue,” Soo countered. The disdain he felt for Treel was clear. “He played at being a soldier, but he never made rank. He was always too worried about the planets we captured and the long-term effects on those we enslaved.”
“Soo, you may insult your brother all you wish,” Rala answered calmly. “But the fact remains. Treel understands the difference between power and pretense. He has always known where we stand concerning our trading partners and our place in the larger context of interstellar might.”
Soo rankled. He had considered his younger brother barely competent as a soldier. He had never thought that Treel might excel at anything else. Now Rala was telling him that Treel had a better grasp of interstellar relations than he possessed. His ears flattened.
Rala picked up the cue.
“Soo,” she reached out and placed a hand lightly on his arm. It was a placating gesture, meant to soothe. “I am not telling you this to anger you. Only to enlighten you.”
“You speak as if he is still alive,” he growled. Her hand jerked back quickly and Soo felt a morsel of satisfaction. It was immediately followed by a sting of regret. This female was still tethered to his brother. She still thought of herself as Treel’s mate.
Soo abandoned any further thought that she would select him. That knowledge helped him focus on the matter at hand.
“So, Rala, what exactly do the Zrthns want?” he asked. “Why did they collect our contracts if they are not intent on capturing our worlds?”
Rala smiled. She was obviously pleased that Soo had come back to the real issue at hand.
“They want agsel,” she replied.
“Agsel?”
“Yes, Soo. Agsel is the mineral mined on Telgora.”
“Yes, I know that. But why is agsel so important to the Zrthns?”
“Ah, Soo. That is the interesting part,” Rala said. “It seems that agsel is a very important mineral—much more important than we ever knew. It is the key component in the ships the Waa build and in the space travelling ships every other race builds. Without agsel, there is no interstellar travel—at least, no travel that is faster than light, which is basically the same thing.”
Soo had never questioned how their motherships worked, had never really cared. But if agsel was required to make them space worthy, he could understand why it was an important mineral to control.
“Rala, if agsel is so important, why wouldn’t the Zrthns try to take Telgora for themselves?”
“You are thinking like a true Minith, Soo.” Although she did not say as much, Soo felt the unspoken comparison between him and Treel bubble up, and ignored it.
“The Zrthns know about the ongoing conflicts we have with the native Telgorans and are content to let us mine the agsel for them,” Rala continued. “While the agsel flows from our mines, they do not care how we get it.”
“Rala, let’s assume I believe you. If the Zrthns are not a military threat, as you contend, what does that mean for us and for our growing defense forces?”
“It means you can focus on other things, Soo.” She returned the hand to his arm. Soo recognized the movement was not meant to placate this time, but to encourage. “It means you can send forces to Earth.”
“You mean send forces to find Treel, don’t you?”
Rala lifted her hand and settled back on her stool. Her back was straight and her head was lifted high. She did not acknowledge the question, but both knew her answer.
“Does Governor Truk know any of this?” he asked.
“Truk knows only what we tell him, General,” Rala replied. “I do not think this information will be useful to him.”
So Truk did not know the Zrthns may not be actively threatening them. And Rala was not going to tell him.
Interesting.
Rala was more intelligent and more cunning than he had thought. Her ears had not twitched once during their entire conversation. Such bold aggression should have been apparent. Instead, her intentions simmered cleverly under the surface of a calm exterior.
She was unlike anyone he had ever known.
Soo was suddenly eager to please her. He would proceed under the assumption that her assertions about the Zrthns were accurate. If anyone would know, she would.
“And what do I tell Governor Truk when he asks how our defense preparations are going?”
“Tell him the truth, General. Tell him that your preparations are progressing well.” Rala paused, looked him firmly in the eye. “But that is all he needs to know, wouldn’t you agree?”
“And if he should discover the Zrthns are no longer a threat? What then?”
“General, I do not think that Truk is vital to the long-term survival of the Minith. Do you?”
The meaning was clear. Rala was content to have Truk remain as the leader of their race as long as it was convenient. When it became inconvenient, they would address it.
Soo stood and nodded, then turned on his heel and marched crisply away from his brother’s mate.
He had new orders.
Chapter 36
“When are we scheduled to land, Gee?”
“We will reach Telgora in thirteen days.”
“Excellent,” Grant replied. “I can’t wait to get off this ship and back on real ground.”
Grant was sitting at the conference table in his quarters. Titan and Gee sat across from him. They were discussing the coming landing, and Grant had some ideas he wanted to float past the other two men. Their knowledge of the planetary conditions and experience with the Telgorans were critical for what he had planned.
“What do you know about the mines on the planet?”
Gee spoke up.
“There are six mining operations on Telgora,” he offered. “All six support removal of the agsel. As far as I know, nothing else is taken from the planet.”
“What about the layout of the mines? Any idea how deep they run into the planet? How the workers get below? How large are the mines themselves?”
“No idea, Grant,” Titan offered. “We have never seen anything except the ramparts the Minith have built around the above-ground facilities, and those only from a distance. The Telgorans have let me join three of their raiding parties—and they left me behind at the edge of the battle all three times.”
“For obvious reasons,” Gee added. “Those attacks are suicide missions.”
Titan merely nodded. Grant recognized the look of a veteran who had seen things that he did not want to discuss. Titan had told him about the senseless attacks the Telgorans made on the mines every six months. Grant understood that Telgoran brains were wired differently from humans—even differently from the Minith—but making the same, useless attack time after time was lunacy.
Grant was certain that he and his forces would not make the same mistake, and, if possible, he would try to convince the Telgorans to change their ways. Not a simple task, he knew, but he would have to try.
“What about Patahbay?” Grant asked. “Would he or his people know anything about the mines?”
Titan shrugged.
“Not sure, but we can ask.”
“Can you learn what he knows?” Grant asked the former Violent. “He doesn’t like leaving his room, and you know him better than anyone else.”
“What are you thinking?”
“We can use those mines to our benefit,” Grant answered. “But we need to learn everything we can about them first.”
“I’m on it, Little Man.” Titan rose from the table and left the room.
Grant just shook his head.
“Why does he call y
ou that?”
“Titan has always been the biggest and baddest guy around,” Grant explained. “When someone shows up who may be a little bit badder, but not quite as big, that’s how he copes.”
“Does it bother you?” Gee seemed genuinely interested. Grant guessed the engineer had never had much interaction with alpha males, other than the Minith.
“No, Gee. It’s just a term of endearment.”
“A—a what?”
“Never mind. Let’s just say he doesn’t mean any harm.”
“If you say so,” Gee replied. It was clear he did not understand.
Grant wondered how the new-age engineer would have fit into the ass-grabbing, shit-talking military units he had lived in for so long. Not well, he surmised.
“How are your ribs?” Gee changed the subject.
Grant absently stroked his left side. A weak throb from the two ribs that had been confirmed as cracked was still there, but it was getting duller every day. From prior history, he knew the injury would be fully mended in another week or so.
“Fine. Almost all healed up.”
Chapter 37
After months travelling at speeds much faster than light, the mothership had once again converted to rocket mode. As he had several times before, Gee wondered at the science involved.
It would seem that a culture that could develop a vessel capable of interstellar flight could also develop technology that did not rely on such primitive methods of landing.
If he ever met one of the Waa, that would be the first question he asked.
* * *
Titan watched the external vid screens in silence as the mothership entered the atmosphere of Telgora. He waited patiently for a view of the planet’s surface and was eventually rewarded with a view of the dark side.
A thin band of light at the top of the screen grew into an ever-widening stretch as the ship closed the distance to the day side of the planet. The knowledge that the Telgorans lived under the surface allowed them to select a landing site much closer to Patahbay’s home village than before.
Titan released a heavy sigh as the ship settled into its final leg of the three-month journey.
I’m back, he thought. As if five years on this god-awful rock wasn’t long enough.
At least he would not be forced to eat tatal this time.
* * *
The first faint touches of Family washed over Patahbay’s mind like cool water over a burn. The rumbling of the ship went unnoticed as the welcoming embrace of his kind grew stronger and stronger. He fell back on the over-soft bed and basked contentedly in the comfort that was offered.
When the connection was strong enough, he shared his memories of the trip: the long voyage, the misery of being alone, the visit to a foreign planet, the dismay of defeat at dindin, the knowledge of making decisions independent of the Family. His memories generated intense emotions and feelings within the Family, and he accepted them and made them his own. He accepted the regret and the sorrow others felt over his extended loneliness. He accepted the excitement that his travel created in those who had never left the comfort of their own villages. He accepted—and understood—the disbelief that a human could defeat him at dindin.
He accepted that after months as an island, he was finally back with the Family.
He was complete again.
Before he gave himself over fully to the mass mind, he shared one final experience—the recent discussion he had with the general. It concerned the invaders and the mines they worked. Of all the experiences he could share, this was the most important.
Shiale would be required.
* * *
The alarm beeped abruptly, grabbed Chor’s attention. The last time the monitor beeped, almost seven months ago, a mothership had lifted off from the planet. A mothership that no one within the mines had even known was there.
The Minith mine worker glanced at the monitor to which the alarm was attached. The incoming data showed a mothership. But this time it was landing, not taking off.
Chor performed as he had been trained. After the last event, detailed instructions had come to them from General Soo on Waa.
The civilian smiled and sounded an alarm that notified his superior of the incoming vessel. He was confident he had performed his duty well. The rest would be up to the Minith soldiers stationed on the planet. He did not envy them. There was a reason they never left the security of the mining base.
Telgorans were a nasty bunch.
Chapter 38
Grant sat in his command carrier. It was hot, cramped, and smelled of the lubricant that was used to keep the equipment running. He was surrounded by a team of six soldiers, comm gear, and a full complement of weapons and ammunition. The carrier was just one among the gathered mass of forces crowding the loading bay. All their vehicles, carriers, and foot soldiers were locked, loaded, and ready to disembark. Some would set up defensive positions surrounding the mothership while others had more distant goals.
Thanks to the information contained in the ship’s databanks, as well as the first-person accounts from Titan and Patahbay, the humans had very good intel about the Minith forces they faced. While they did not know how many aliens were stationed on the planet, they knew their enemies’ exact locations and how they were programmed to fight. But, unlike the Telgorans they were accustomed to fighting, the human warriors did not plan to attack the mining bases head-on—or on foot.
Grant knew he could not hope to overrun all six of the mining bases in a single attempt. They were too well defended and the human force was simply too small.
Instead, the plan called for an air strike against the closest mine, using their full contingent of fighter carriers. The fighters would then provide air support for a follow-up attack of ground soldiers inserted by carrier behind the walls of the mining base. If they were quick and decisive in their movement to contact, there was a better-than-even chance that the Minith defending the base would be surprised.
It was a solid plan, but one which would only work once against such heavily fortified bases. That was fine with Grant. He did not plan to attack them in the same manner a second time, but if they thought he would and set up their defenses to protect from similar attacks, all the better.
The exhaustion that had plagued him during his last two years on Earth was a distant memory. The promise of battle was upon them and the adrenalin-fueled anxiety he always felt before engaging in war had kicked in. The training, the planning, and—worst of all—the waiting were done. Now, it came down to the doing.
The mothership spat out its final landing roar and settled onto the face of Telgoran. Grant prepared himself for the rush that would come with the opening of the bay door. A quick survey of the half-dozen soldiers in his carrier showed a quiet and subdued bunch. Half were chanting a Peace mantra.
He wondered how the rest of his forces were holding up. For all but a few dozen who were with him in Violent’s Prison, this would mark their first foray into combat. As former citizens of a Peaceful world, they were as green as green could be. At least in his time, newbs had a few schoolyard scrapes under their belt. These men and women had extensive weapons training, but limited hand-to-hand training and sparring experience. He hoped it would be enough to see them through when the time came.
A sudden quiet filled the bay as the mothership shut down all engines.
“Here we go, troops,” Grant said evenly to the soldiers seated around him. “Keep your eyes open and your wits about you.”
The soldiers turned their eyes toward Grant. A couple nodded. One turned her head to the rear of the carrier and got sick. Grant was glad he had thought to provide his crew with barf bags and waited for others to follow suit. He wondered how the troops in the other vehicles were faring as the carrier lifted from the floor and whizzed through the widening gap of the bay door. The barf bags weren’t standard issue.
* * *
Chor watched the exterior monitors, an unusual experience for him. Unless it was attack
season for the Telgorans, the monitors sat silent and dark, but he had turned them on to watch the preparations being made by the Minith warriors. As a youngster, he had considered a life as a soldier. The thought of a multi-year assignment on a distant planet had caused him to take a different path, though—and now look where he was, stationed on a distant planet for three years. What was worse, his current posting required him to be holed up in a tiny room, monitoring alarms and monitors that beeped twice a year if he was lucky.
Well, today was his lucky day. Activity showed on the monitor.
The soldiers on the screen walked slowly through their preparations. Chor could tell they did not relish the thought of venturing beyond the safety of the walls. They knew what would happen if they were forced to land and were unfortunate enough to run into a band of Telgorans.
The soldiers were forgotten when the far-sight monitor alarm sounded for the second time that day.
Chor had not expected it to register activity now that the mothership had landed, but it did. It was telling him a small fleet of fast-moving vehicles was headed his way. And they were not Minith.
The monitor was not very precise in the detail it offered. It could provide data on ships and other vehicles that were above the horizon. It also compared the details of those vehicles against a large database of known Minith and non-Minith vehicles. To Chor’s consternation, the system did not recognize many of the inbound vehicles. But the few it did recognize appeared to be native-made carriers from the planet Earth.
Which made no sense.
Chor verified the information being fed to him by the system. He then verified it a second time. Before he alerted his superior that carriers from Earth were headed their way, he wanted to be sure of his work. The last thing he wanted was for his idiot boss to think of him as incompetent.
Peace Army Page 20
