Guerilla

by Mel Odom

  Turit snorted derisively, something that took a lot of skill to do through a translator. The device hadn’t been designed to deliver that particular reaction.

  Morlortai started up the steps leading into the building and one of the mercs put a hand on his chest.

  “This building’s off limits, cr’tontor.”

  A cr’tontor was an intestinal parasite native to Zukimther. Whenever they infested a body, it was always a race to get them out before they produced larva that invaded every system in the host. They were also considered a delicacy because the pharmacological venom produced by the creatures was a natural painkiller. “Harvested” cr’tontor were filled with the venom, and when prepared carefully, could produce an experience that would wrap the eater in dreams for days.

  If it was prepared incorrectly, the diner risked death or infestation. Despite the aphrodisiac qualities promised by those who sold cr’tontor as a repast, Morlortai had never been tempted to try it.

  “I’m expected,” Morlortai said. He resisted the impulse to place the gauss cannon in the center of the merc’s chest and trigger it. The round would easily tear through the armor and blow out the merc’s heart. Morlortai didn’t care for the Zukimther mercs either. “I was told to meet someone here.”

  “Clear your faceshield.”

  “That’s not part of the deal.”

  “It’s part of my deal, cr’tontor.”

  Amused to a degree, Morlortai smiled. “Is that a term of endearment? I hear you ­people like eating parasites you’ve dug out of your own eenas.”

  The merc thrust his face down at Morlortai in an effort to be threatening. “They can also be fed to ­people we don’t like.”

  “Try it and you’ll find out if you’ve got any parasites in you right this moment.”

  The merc hesitated, trying to think of a comeback or if he could risk ignoring his orders and breaking Morlortai. That struggle made him grimace.

  “Let him go, Nalaw,” one of the other mercs said from a short distance away. He was bigger than the merc confronting Morlortai, and he wore his scars proudly. “We have our orders.”

  “He has not proven who he is.”

  The second merc looked at Morlortai.

  Holding his left hand up, leaving the hidden gauss cannon aimed at the merc in front of him, Morlortai juiced a holo through the display in the palm of his hand. A bright red, three-­dimensional geometric shape appeared in the air a ­couple centimeters above the display. It rotated slowly, then glowed silver as it was scanned for identification.

  “We have confirmation,” the second merc said. “He is allowed to pass.”

  With obvious reluctance, Nalaw stepped back slightly, barely giving Morlortai room to pass.

  “I’ve got him,” Turit whispered over the comm link. “If he twitches wrong, he’ll be dead before he knows it.”

  Through the HUD, Morlortai magnified his view of Turit. The Angenen leaned back against the wall behind him and Morlortai knew the Imhat SAW was hidden in the folds of the voluminous robe. The cyber link between Turit and his weapon would guarantee the shot.

  Ignoring Nalaw because the merc was dead meat if he made a mistake, Morlortai stepped past and continued into the building. As he entered, he spotted three Phrenorian warriors conducting business in one of the large rooms.

  One of the Phrenorians sat at a table too small for him. Another stood at the door, and another at the window overlooking the front of the building.

  There would be others. The Sting-­Tails never traveled in small groups when in hostile territory.

  The Phrenorians gave no indication they noted Morlortai, but the assassin knew that wasn’t the case. He also knew that Turit was correct, that their real target would be hard to kill.

  But Morlortai would find a way to get it done.

  TEN

  Southwest of Makaum City

  0707 Hours Zulu Time

  While following Jahup through the jungle, Sage got pinged for a private conference with Colonel Halladay over his helmet comm. Leaning over the handlebars of the RDC and fighting with brush that slapped him along the way, Sage felt tired from being up all night stalking through the jungle. He was looking forward to some serious rack time. Unfortunately, he knew he wasn’t going to get that even before Halladay contacted him because he couldn’t relax with the Phrenorian base waiting in the shadows.

  “Top,” Halladay said over the link after the comm officer connected them. “You answered, so I’m assuming you’re still alive.”

  “I am, sir.” Even it if hadn’t been for the agreement that Sage would run silent on his return to the fort unless things turned dicey, the colonel’s voice held serious overtones that indicated something had gone wrong. On top of the discovery of the Phrenorian base.

  “You’re running later than expected,” Halladay continued.

  “We got in closer than we’d hoped. Didn’t get seen. Unfortunately, we confirmed what we’d been told, but I can’t give you much more than that until I see you. What I do have for you, I’d rather let sit till we’re in private.”

  “Understood.” Some of the fatigue in Halladay’s voice lifted and Sage knew he’d tweaked the man’s interest. “We have a situation here. Last night, the base was attacked.”

  Twisting the throttle, Sage shot across the jungle, dodging trees, uneven terrain, and low-­hanging branches to overtake Jahup. They had been traveling in single file. Waving the young scout over, Sage pulled to a stop behind a copse of trees on a hillock that gave them somewhat of a clear view around their position.

  Jahup’s tight body language and constant staring at Sage gave indication of his irritation. Though the younger man had been fascinated by the two-­wheeled RDCs because there weren’t any in Makaum, he wasn’t happy with the noise the vehicles made. As a scout, stealth was one of the chief weapons in his arsenal. He didn’t like losing it in spite of the speed the RDCs gave them.

  Sage kept the Roley ready in his hands as he talked to Halladay. His gaze roved restlessly, and he used his peripheral vision to pick out movement in the dense shadows. So far none of the local predators showed undue interest in them.

  “How bad was the attack, sir?”

  “Two of our walking sentries took the brunt of it. I think the attack was more a statement of intent than a solid assault. Corporal Anders collected a mass of burns that’s going to require some skin grafts. He’s being taken care of now.”

  “But he’ll pull through?” Sage remembered the earnest young man he’d met in the DawnStar space station upon his arrival. Anders had been exactly the kind of inexperienced soldier Sage had been turning out while assigned to boot camp. He’d known most of them wouldn’t make it back from wherever they confronted the Phrenorians.

  “Anders will be fine, Top. The attack was violent, but limited in scope. The attackers breached the outer perimeter and hit one of the training buildings with rockets. The perimeter will be taken care of by this afternoon. It’ll take a ­couple days to regrow the building.”

  “Do you think the attack was a kickback from the drug cartels?”

  “We believe it was orchestrated by the anti-­Terran Makaum faction.”

  “What makes you think it was the Makaum ­people?” Sage asked.

  “Because Noojin saw them.”

  Sage gazed at Jahup, who knelt only a few meters away against a tree trunk and watched over the surrounding jungle. “Did she know them?”

  “We think so. She’s not saying. If it hadn’t been for Quass Leghef, we wouldn’t have been able to hold her here.”

  That surprised Sage. Quass Leghef was protective of her ­people’s independence. She was also Jahup’s grandmother, something that had surprised Sage when he’d learned that.

  “The Quass,” Halladay continued, “has told Noojin she’s supposed to cooperate with us too. The girl is ma
intaining her silence.”

  “Why?”

  “I think she wants to keep things private. The Quass’s granddaughter was with Noojin when the attack happened. Anders nearly killed them both. Noojin fired an arrow into Anders’s head, which the helmet deflected, to warn him about the ambush. Anders reacted to the attack. He’s still green. A lot of them are. Thankfully Noojin cleared herself and the girl from the rooftop where they’d been.”

  Noojin was a skilled hunter. Sage had seen her operating with Jahup when they’d been out in the jungle. The girl was headstrong and independent. She didn’t much care for him and only put up with him because she wanted to be with Jahup.

  “I think Noojin is staying silent because she intends to take care of the situation herself,” Halladay continued. “One of the ambushers tried to kill her and the Quass’s granddaughter on his—­or her—­retreat after the attack. Needless to say, the Quass is highly motivated to assist us in finding out who did this.”

  “Maybe she is,” Sage replied.

  “Something on your mind, Top?” The irritation in Halladay’s voice scratched through to the surface.

  “Just thinking out loud, sir.” Sage searched the jungle and listened to the quiet tick-­tick-­tick of the RDC’s cooling magneto drives. “The Quass is supposed to be in control of her ­people. If she leans on us to take care of this problem, that’s going to undermine her authority with the community.”

  Halladay cursed lightly. “That had crossed my mind too. You saying it like that makes me even more suspicious of her letting us keep Noojin. She knows we can’t do anything to the girl, just hold her for a little while, as long as the Quass doesn’t object. Letting us have her could just be lip ser­vice to the joint effort we should be having. The Quass seems like a sweet little old lady. I’ve never had any problems with her.”

  “You don’t get to be Quass by being a pushover, sir.”

  “I suppose that’s right. How far out are you?”

  Sage pulled up a map on his faceshield and estimated the travel time. “About four hours if we push it.” That would mean tearing through the jungle at faster speeds than they’d traveled at so far.

  “I think I can keep Noojin here for that long. She was waiting around last night for Jahup to return. I can trade news of his impending arrival to keep her hanging.”

  “That will probably work, sir.” Sage glanced at the chronometer reading on his faceshield. “There’s no activity on the part of the Phrenorians?”

  “No, but if the local anti-­Terran movement gains traction, we’re going to have a more difficult time doing our jobs.”

  “Copy that, sir. Jahup and I will be there as soon as we can.”

  “Be safe, Top. We need you back here.”

  Sage let that roll in his mind. For the last six years on the training fields, he’d felt useless and wasted. Now he was needed and that felt good. The comm link faded from his faceshield and he turned toward Jahup, knowing the other man still wasn’t used to the 360-­degree provided by the helmet, because he was looking at Sage.

  Instead of the Roley rifle, the scout held a recurve bow with a nocked arrow in his hands. That weapon would have been more silent than the Roley, and something—­or someone—­killed with it wouldn’t have sparked curiosity in a Phrenorian patrol. It was a good choice.

  “Saddle up.” Sage threw a leg over the RDC and switched the engine on. The crawler started with a low hum. “We need to travel fast.”

  Jahup nodded and mounted his crawler. He took the lead, zipping through the jungle.

  Close behind, Sage settled into the ride, his mind already racing through the problems that awaited him at the fort. Everything was escalating. The Phrenorian fort was only part of it.

  Interview Room D

  Security Building

  Fort York

  0714 Hours Zulu Time

  The door to the prison cell (Noojin refused to use the term “interview” room even though that was clearly written on it in her native tongue because that was really just a lie) remained closed. Two armored guards stood to either side of it inside the room as well as out.

  This wasn’t an “interview.”

  Noojin sat in one of the gel-­cushioned chairs that conformed to her posture and movements. It was one of the most comfortable chairs she’d ever sat in. Only the chairs maintained by the corps were more comfortable. She’d sometimes accompanied Quass Leghef during those visits. Telilu had wanted to see the offworlder structures and the DawnStar space station once. The Quass had asked Noojin to accompany them because not even Jahup could control the young girl.

  Noojin had been impressed by the amenities, but the view of Makaum from space had been unsettling. The planet had looked like an alien place from the space station observation blister. To her, Makaum the world had looked remote and uncaring.

  It hadn’t looked like home.

  That was her biggest fear. On Makaum, she was defined. She was a scout, part of a hunting band that provided meat for the community. But if she was taken out of that, she wasn’t sure who she was.

  How could Jahup feel so certain around them? Noojin wanted to scream out her frustration, but she carefully kept it locked down.

  There was a knock on the door, then the lock cycled with harsh clicks that echoed in the nearly empty room. Noojin knew the grinding and the emptiness were supposed to intimidate her. They did, but she refused to reveal that. She remained seated and didn’t adjust her posture. She wondered who would be sent to talk to her. Whether it would be the female sergeant who worked with Sergeant Sage. Despite her dislike of the Terran Army, Noojin did like the white-­haired sergeant because she knew her own strengths and did not try to hide them.

  Noojin was surprised when Colonel Halladay walked into the room. He was the last person she had expected. Then she thought maybe Quass had experienced a change of heart and sent the colonel himself to apologize for “interviewing” Noojin.

  “It’s about time.” Noojin stood, folded her arms, and glared at the guards.

  “Time for what?” Halladay studied her with interest. He was a little shorter than Sergeant Sage, not as broadly built, and had piercing green eyes. Despite the fatigue that clung to him, his uniform was sharply creased, his tie carefully knotted, and he stood straight. He held a PAD under his arm.

  Noojin also noted that the colonel’s hip holster was empty. The only ­people with weapons in the room were the guards. Her hopes sank a little at that. The only reason the colonel would enter the room unarmed would be if he was going to continue her arrest.

  “To let me go home.” Noojin had no choice but to continue with the bluff. “You have no right to hold me.”

  “I have every right.”

  “I alerted your guards to the danger they were in.”

  “You did.”

  “Then why do you insist on holding me?”

  “Because I want you to go on protecting my troops,” Halladay replied. “If I let you out of here before you tell me who was in the group this morning, I’ll be putting my soldiers in jeopardy. I’m not going to do that.”

  “I don’t know who attacked your soldiers.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  Unable to stop herself, Noojin screamed and balled her hands into fists.

  Both soldiers started to step forward but Halladay raised a hand to stop them. “As you were.”

  The soldiers stepped back.

  Halladay pulled out a chair on the other side of the table and sat down. “It might surprise you to know that I have two teenage daughters, and that I can tell when they’re lying to me. Or omitting something. You can throw all the temper tantrums you want to, but I promise you that you’re not leaving this room until I’m satisfied.”

  Frustrated, feeling trapped in the small room, Noojin grabbed her chair and tried to rip it from the floor. Bu
t it didn’t come up.

  “The chairs are locked to the floor,” Halladay said helpfully. “It keeps ­people from making their situations worse.”

  Stepping back from the chair, Noojin kicked it. When nothing happened, she kicked it again and again.

  Halladay just sat on the other side of the table and didn’t react.

  Noojin quieted herself and sat down, afraid that if she kept on kicking the chair and seeing nothing happen, she was going to cry. She refused to cry in front of the offworlders. She also refused to answer Halladay’s questions. She folded her arms and stared at him. Terran girls were not as tough as she was, and the colonel was going to get a quick lesson in that.

  ELEVEN

  Offworlders’ Bazaar

  Makaum Sprawl

  0721 Hours Zulu Time

  Morlortai climbed the winding stairs inside the Makaum building, surprised at how large it was on the inside. Perhaps that was only the perspective of the place, or the fact that it was so empty. Or it might have been the mix of artificial light from bulbs and tubes along with the phosphorescent glow from lichen and moss growing at certain intervals along the walls and ceiling.

  Judging from the signage on some of the walls and things he spotted in certain rooms, the structure must have once housed learning centers for the Makaum ­people.

  He could almost imagine the Makaum children sitting in those classrooms and listening to whatever it was that was taught there. The images in Morlortai’s mind dredged up some of his own, of the time before the Black Opal Corp ships had descended on Fenipal. He had sat in similar classrooms, then only a few years later the Fenipalan economy had fallen and the world had struggled in its death throes while the Black Opal Corp bashhounds used them as slaves to loot their own planet.

  “Are you good?” Turit asked over the comm link. The connection was scratchy, uncertain.

  The calm voice refocused Morlortai, though his thoughts had never strayed from his own self-­survival. He remained aware of his location and the dangers around him.