Mission To Mahjundar (A Sectors SF Romance)

by Veronica Scott

  “So what do we do?” she asked.

  “We might have a last ditch escape route, before we get to the point where we have to kill ourselves to foil the enemy.”

  She twined her arms around his neck, pulling him closer. Mike gave in to the emotions in his heart and tugged her into his lap. They kissed for a long moment, before he held her tight. “I’ve got to go to the roof and talk to Johnny.”

  “Go then.” She gave him a tiny push. “When all this adventure is over, promise me we’ll have time for ourselves with no interruptions.”

  “I promise,” he said, squeezing her hand. “Once we hit the Andromeda, I plan to debrief Command about the operation and then retire on the spot. There’ll be nothing but you on my scanners.”

  Full of adrenaline and unaccustomed emotions, unable to sit a moment longer, he hastened onto the balcony to confer with Johnny. Shoulder to shoulder, hidden behind the low wall, the two operators gazed across the slightly tilted temple roof. The sheer drop-off on the side adjoining the tower meant any attack would have to come from the other end, or the center. Mike couldn't see trapdoors or breaks in the roof itself, so the Nathlemeru would have to climb onto the surface to launch an attack, exposing the enemy to fire from the tower. The range was definitely close enough for accuracy, even with the Mahjundan guns.

  “If they have bows and arrows, which they probably do, given the level of technology we’ve seen so far,” Johnny said, gauging the distance, “we could be in trouble, even on the tower roof. Archers could get the angle and drop the fire right in on us. I doubt blowguns have the power, though.”

  They exchanged glances. Mike couldn't help chuckling, despite the gravity of the situation. “Never thought you'd be planning a defense against archaic weaponry, did you?”

  “Yeah, this is a bad dream, but unfortunately I’m stuck in the middle of it with you, so if you could get back to being serious, I’d appreciate it.” Brow furrowed, his cousin wasn’t amused.

  Mike rubbed the back of his neck. “Sorry, still a bit hyped from the adrenephix.” He took a deep breath. “Okay, let's drag the tables out of level two and take them to the roof for some shelter. We need to get all our gear and packs to the third level now too, while there's a lull.”

  “And the food and water,” Johnny said. “Have you eaten anything yet?”

  Mike raised his eyebrows. “You know me, no appetite until the battle is over.”

  “Right, and then you eat everything in sight. I hope the cooks on the Andy will be ready for you. But do me a favor, follow your friendly medic’s orders and eat something now. I don’t want you keeling over midfight.” Johnny grabbed Mike’s sleeve as he was about to leave the tower’s roof. “I’m serious. The meds burn through a lot of calories, mending the fastlink damage.”

  “Yes, Mom.” Laughing, Mike headed back down the stairs.

  Mike accomplished what limited preparation work could be done and then his meager forces settled into waiting and watching. Too restless to stay in one spot himself, he prowled from level to level, onto the balcony, up to the roof, and back again. He reminded Johnny and Everett to shoot to kill once the Nathlemeru did appear on the roof. “We can’t allow anyone to get close to the tower.”

  At about midmorning, the Nathlemeru finally launched another attack on the first floor entrance. When Mike and Johnny joined Saium by the door, they could hear muffled shouts from men gathered in the narrow corridor, making a concerted effort to force the door open. The stout metal bar across the inside and the ornate iron hinges held fast, not even flexing under the assault.

  “They won’t succeed,” Mike was saying with satisfaction when he heard the unmistakable whine of a blaster. “Stay here,” Mike ordered Saium. Moving at double time, he rushed to the third level, his cousin at his heels.

  Everett leaned his head in from the balcony. “Two hostiles tried coming onto the roof from the center of the temple. I killed one and may have wounded the other.”

  “Now they know for sure we're armed and dangerous,” Johnny said. “Things could get interesting.”

  “Are you okay?" Concerned how she was reacting to being in a combat zone, Mike looked to where Shalira sat curled on the couch. The princess was white-faced, lips pressed together in a thin line, her fingers clasped tightly in her lap, but she smiled.

  “I’ll be fine. You do what needs to be done to protect us and don't worry about me.”

  “Your Highness, you’re one tough lady in my book,” Johnny said, admiration in his voice. “You're going to fit in fine on our home world.”

  “Go reinforce Everett. Keep an eye on him.” Mike moved aside ever so slightly to allow the sergeant to squeeze past him, crossing the balcony in a few steps and working his way up the half-exposed stairway cautiously, so as not to present a target. Prowling onto the balcony, Mike crouched next to the low wall.

  “Heads up, they’re making another attempt,” Johnny warned from above, as blaster fire arced out to meet the foolhardy temple guards reconnoitering the defensive situation on the tower.

  “I wish we had an estimate of how many men the priests have to call on here in the city,” Mike said, watching the squad scatter under fire. One man fell from the roof with a scream, apparently made clumsy by his desperation to escape the withering blaster barrage. Several soldiers lay unmoving as a result of Johnny’s marksmanship. “Such a huge place, plenty of buildings, but so empty. Everyone keeps telling me the priests maintain a standing army to enforce their rule but does that mean a hundred men or a thousand? Or ten thousand?”

  “I only passed a few occupied structures, mostly in the center, and some beside the temple,” Johnny called in reply. “One building was definitely a barracks, big enough to house two hundred or more.”

  “Plus whatever priests and servants live here. So maybe two or three hundred at the most.” Mike laughed. “Three hundred against five, not the best odds we’ve ever faced.”

  “Incoming!” yelled Johnny.

  The temple guards had figured out a way to get more than two or three men on the roof at the same time. A force of thirty warriors was coming over the edge of the roof at the far end.

  “Pick your targets and fire at will,” Mike shouted, aiming at a man in the front of the attacking force.

  This skirmish was short and decisively in the favor of those besieged in the tower. About half the attackers fell under the targeted blaster fire, dead or wounded, before the force had even had time to form a cohesive unit to advance closer to the tower. The rest abandoned their comrades and fled down unseen ladders, out of range.

  “Not too bad,” Mike said. “Now if we only had recharges for these babies, there'd be no problem.” He checked the readout on the grip of his blaster, the low count giving him a sinking sensation in his gut.

  He sprinted to the roof to confer in person with Johnny and Everett, relieved to find them in good shape on blaster charges.

  “I'm going to check on Saium and tell him what's happening,” Mike told Johnny. “And Shalira.”

  When Mike got back to the ground floor, there’d been no change, except those outside had apparently abandoned trying to force the door. “We can’t expect our luck here to hold, though,” he said to Saium. “The more effectively we discourage them from an assault across the roof, the more desperate they’re going to get to breach our defenses here.” He pounded his fist on the door to emphasize the point.

  “Tell me the truth. Are we going to make it out of this situation?” Saium’s face was calm, his voice level.

  “I think the odds aren’t in our favor, but we have a chance,” Mike said. “If the Marines get here in time, there’s no problem. We have to hold out.”

  “And what will happen to me once we reach your ship?” Saium’s gaze was unblinking, his wrinkled face expressionless.

  “Shalira wouldn't stand for leaving you behind on Mahjundar somewhere, even if I was so clueless. I know what she means to you,” Mike told him. “I think you can be content
on my world. Azrigone has unexplored wilderness where a man can carve out a good living for himself.” Staring into Saium’s eyes, Mike said, “I need you to be there, for Shalira's sake.”

  Eyes crinkling as he half-smiled, Saium nodded. “A new life will be hard on her in many ways, but she’ll be free. And happy, which is all I ever wanted for her. I’ll never forgive myself for helping betray her into Bandarlok’s hands.”

  “You didn’t know what the bastard had in mind for her. No one did, except possibly the empress.” Mike squeezed the old man’s shoulder. “You’ll like Azrigone.”

  Saium had unshed tears in his eyes. “I never dreamed of such generosity, going to your home world with her.”

  “When we do get rescued, remember to swear you’re Shalira's maternal uncle. I can insist on taking my wife's only surviving blood relative home, as long as I can pay the spacefare.” Mike laughed. After all the ordeals he’d been through on Mahjundar, getting Saium a safe passage to Azrigone was a minor inconvenience. “My conscience can handle a small lie to make my lady happy. I’d better get back to the roof.” Good thing the Mahjundans have no idea what spacefare to cross ten sectors is going to cost.

  As the sun rose directly overhead, an incessant drumming began, reverberating from the front area of the temple. The beat was pounding, from more than one drum, continuing with no breaks. Mike finally had Saium question the remaining Nathlemeru astronomer as to the meaning of the drum code, but the man refused to talk.

  Taking turns resting on the third level, the tower defenders ate sparingly of the astronomers' repast from the night before, washed down with sips of wine.

  In mid-afternoon, Everett yelled from his post. “Major, I think you'd better come outside for a minute.”

  Going onto the balcony, Mike whistled in surprise. “They burning the temple?”

  A huge plume of smoke was rising from the center front of the temple. The mountain winds snatched the grayish clouds away as soon as they spiraled above the roof, creating lazy patterns against the royal-blue sky.

  “I thought I heard screams.” Everett shaded his eyes with one hand.

  “I can't imagine what they're doing now. Hold the fort while I go ask Saium what he makes of it.”

  Mike made his way to the first floor and questioned Saium, whose answer was chilling. “I imagine they’re burning Ishtananga’s body to send him to the gods. Many have probably been sacrificed this morning to accompany him. The Nathlemeru believe a funeral must occur before the next sunset, which has bought us some time. They’ve been distracted between trying to do him honor, picking his successor, and probing at our defenses.”

  Remembering how he’d been slated to die under the high priest’s knife, Mike felt momentary nausea run through his gut. “At least Shalira and Johnny killed the man cleanly and quickly, unlike the way the Nathlemeru slaughter innocents for their hideous god.”

  When Mike arrived on the third floor to brief his companions, Everett said, “This planet is a cesspool, dregs of the universe.” His face was drawn in lines of revulsion. “Sacrifice of sentient beings is barbarism.” He retreated to his chosen post on the roof without another word.

  “He was asking me why you couldn't go fastlink again and get status on the evac,” Johnny said, voice low, back to the staircase. “I told him not only no but hell no, and don't you even think about it, you hear me? You aren't allowed to do it under field conditions more than once in forty eight hours, so don't try to get past me on this one.”

  Mike was touched by his cousin’s vehemence. “I promise. I don't have any desire to scramble my central nervous system on our last mission.”

  “Yeah, well, good.” The sergeant, red faced and apparently embarrassed to have shown so much concern, took his blaster and resumed his post on the balcony.

  “Someday you must tell me more about what you and he did on other missions,” Shalira told him from her perch on the couch.

  “Remind me you want to hear more about my illustrious career once I've officially retired, okay?” She had no idea how much editing he’d have to do to render his past fit for civilian consumption. Even his unclassified missions had a high level of gore and unpleasantness. “Today’s not the day.”

  “How are we going to stand watch tonight?” she asked. “I’ve only seen a few torches in the tower.”

  “We'll be better off with our night sight. Remember Johnny, Everett and I have enhanced vision.” Contemplating the range of tactics the enemy might employ, Mike frowned. “I don't think they’ll attack us tonight, though. Obviously we aren't going anywhere. And we've caused a high casualty rate whenever they did attack in the daylight. They don't have a clue how long we can keep using the blasters, or what else we may have.”

  “The Nathlemeru didn't seem to like the idea of being in the temple at night, anyway.” Johnny’s comment drifted in from his post out on the balcony. “Only old Three Feathers, and he's gone.”

  “Probably replaced by someone even uglier.” Mike went to stare out the open doorway, across the roof. “We won't count on a quiet night, but it sure would be nice. I’m guessing the big assault will come tomorrow.”

  “I wish your Space Marines would arrive first,” Shalira said. “It would make things so much easier.”

  “The only easy day was yesterday, ma’am,” Johnny told her, leaning inside the room for a moment. “Old adage in our branch of the service. We’ll be okay, you’ll see.”

  The night passed uneventfully, if not quietly. Mike could see a huge glow from many torches out by the front of the temple, and the drumming persisted all night long, changing rhythm from time to time, but never stopping. Saium interrogated the priest again and was assured the sound was accompaniment for the burial ritual, not a summons for reinforcements. The defenders managed some restless sleep, in staggered shifts. Shalira slept the night through, assisted by an inject from Johnny’s medkit, but had nightmares from which Mike would rouse her when she grew agitated. Not totally awake even then, she’d settle into his arms and sink into deeper sleep as if comforted by his presence.

  He and Johnny had a whispered conversation about the advisability of using their one-man antigrav disk. Johnny volunteered to conduct a reconnaissance run to the bottom of the cliff under cover of darkness.

  “I hear what you’re saying,” Mike told his cousin, “but I’m reluctant to split our forces. And I’m concerned about the charge in the disk, how may runs it can make. I’d rather keep it at full charge up here, in case we have to do a last minute evac. I’m counting on the extraction team showing up in the morning and saving our bacon. Nikolai has to be getting close to the planet by now.”

  “You’re the boss.” Johnny rubbed the back of his neck and stretched. “Those individual antigrav units have been known to short out just when a team needs them most, on more than one occasion. I heard scuttlebutt that Command was going to abandon the technology, cancel all future procurements unless fixes were made to improve the reliability.”

  “Right, I heard the same thing. The disks got rushed into the field without enough testing. I’m not taking the risk until I’m left with no other choices.”

  A little after dawn, the entire group congregated around the remaining food, except for Saium, who stayed at his post. Shalira carried a plate of fruit, rolls and a cup of the wine downstairs to him while the three Sectors operators conferred.

  “All right, it's been more than twenty-four hours. So where the hell is the extraction team?” Everett was right in Mike's face, more belligerent than he’d been previously. “Don’t you think maybe you ought to go on the roof and fastlink again? The situation is getting dicey. In case you hadn’t noticed, we’re low on ammo.”

  “You know damn well I can't fastlink again so soon.” Unperturbed, Mike took a swallow of the wine, Johnny having given them headclear since the alcoholic beverage was the only liquid in the tower. “I'm sure the Andy got the message and is coming as fast as she can. I told them we’d found you and you had the
intel Command is desperate for. Once he’s in orbit, Nikolai won't waste a second getting us out of here.”

  “Major!” Saium's urgent shout carried all the way from the lower floor.

  Shalira burst up the stairs, eyes wide with fright. “You need to see this.”

  “I'm coming!” Mike exchanged glances with Johnny. “Things heating up. You and Everett keep a sharp look-out. I don’t think today is going to be as easy as yesterday was.”

  Johnny shook his head. “Me either. I suspect with the funeral niceties over, whoever is in charge is going to give his full attention to us. Hope our evac ship arrives soon.”

  What Mike found when he joined Saium was unnerving. As he came down the last few steps, he heard a sizzling noise. When he rounded the last curve of the staircase, he was greeted by the sight of wisps of oily black smoke seeping under the heavy door, coiling in proximity to the lower edges. As he watched, the lower metal hinge blackened as droplets of mist congealed on the surface. “What the hell?”

  “Whatever it is, the smoke is eating through the door, there, and there.” Saium pointed to two spots at the bottom where Mike definitely could see more light than there had been before.

  Mike hooked a finger at Saium. “Get the astronomer priest so we can see what he knows about this.”

  The Nathlemeru’s reaction was dramatic. He tried to climb the stairs against Saium's hold, shaking and gibbering in panic. Mike let him slink to the relative safety of the second level, before holding his hunting knife to the man's neck, nicking the artery to draw a trickle of blood. “Tell him I want answers now, or else he goes right next to the door, close to the stuff he’s so afraid of. What is this?”

  The priest was offering explanations even before Saium finished the translation in the trade talk, his words so frantic and rushed he had to repeat himself twice before Saium comprehended the full answer.

  “He says it’s a special mix—blood of sacrifices, blood of the priests, and poison milked from the snakes, with secret ingredients even he doesn’t know. He says it takes a mighty ceremony and many sacrifices to create. Only the highest priests know the formula. The man babbles in fear.” Saium snorted with contempt. “The key point is this stuff eats whatever it touches—metal, wood, flesh and bone.”