by Aaron Hubble
“You think?” Ammaya said.
“He tries not to. It goes against his life philosophy,” Denar growled, pulling his rifle back after several wild shots.
Maltoki rolled out again, fired, and then rolled back. “I liked you better when you hated me.”
“Who says I don’t?”
Maltoki grinned. He saw Denar set his jaw and fire past the car they were hiding behind.
“This did not go as smoothly as planned,” he said to Ammaya. “Any ideas?”
Maltoki could tell she hated giving up on the mission as much as he did. Hazarding a glance around the rock, Maltoki saw the large iron doors standing at the entrance to the mine. A plan began to form in his head. A crazy, reckless plan, but that’s where he did his best work.
“I think I can get us in the mine,” he said. “You and Denar start pushing this cart toward the doors.”
Ammaya stared at him. “I don’t know what you’re planning, but it’s too dangerous. We’ll find another way at another time.”
He gave her a lopsided grin. “We’re here now. Our people are being held against their will in that mine. I’d hate to go home empty handed.”
“Maltoki, no. I’m ordering you back to the ship.”
“Sorry, boss.” He slammed a fresh clip into his rifle and then looked into her dark eyes. “Don’t worry. I have this. Just cover me.”
Maltoki sprinted around the cart, the sound of Ammaya’s cursing following him out into the open. Automatic gunfire came from behind him. An intoxicating mixture of fear and adrenaline flowed through his body, propelling him forward.
He ran toward the rusty metal door. Human bullets tore into the ground showering him with dirt. He swerved and dodged trying to make himself as difficult to hit as possible. Two soldiers stepped out from the main mine entrance and were quickly dropped by his sentinel brothers. They were replaced by several more men, guns blazing. From the barracks, more soldiers joined the fight, drawn by the sound of gunfire.
From a pocket on his vest, Maltoki removed a small explosive device. He lobbed the grenade at the door. It struck the metal and held fast, secured by strong magnets. Maltoki dove to the side barely avoiding the crossfire from two soldiers on either side of the door.
He covered his head and a second later a deafening roar and the heat from the blast washed over him. Shrapnel rained down, remnants of the once mighty door. His ears rang from the explosion and he felt a sharp pain in his left arm. Rolling over, he saw a piece of metal protruding from his upper arm. He was staring at it when he heard Ammaya yelling at him. Her voice sounded far away, was barely audible over the drum roll in his head.
His vision was fuzzy and he could just make out several shapes by the tracks. He scrambled to his feet, woozy, but able to run toward the figures. He took up a position next to Denar. Ignoring the pain in his arm and head, Maltoki helped push the cart with his uninjured arm toward the door while the rest of his squad used the heavy metal cart for cover and shot over its edge.
Several more humans went down thanks to those providing cover fire from near the ship. As Maltoki’s vision cleared, he saw Bacca and Zakari sprint toward the mine entrance and take up positions on either side of it. The cart reached the shredded door, and Ammaya, Denar, Maltoki, and three other members of the squad piled into the dim tunnel.
The six sentinels ignited the lamps fixed to the barrels of their rifles. The popping of rifle fire continued outside the mine, but it had become sporadic. The work camps were not heavily guarded; their defense usually consisted of a detachment of ten soldiers. Four had been killed, three were unconscious and most likely bound and lying on the ground by the ship. Potentially, there were three more guards lurking somewhere in these tunnels. The squad would need to be vigilant.
Maltoki opened the visor of his helmet as the voice of Cirta came through the comm. “Ammaya, we’ve already expended our allotted time here. If you’re going to get our brothers out of there, you should do so with all available speed. I have the feeling some unwanted friends may be on their way.”
“Understood, Cirta. Keep the engines warm. We’ll be in a hurry when we get out,” Ammaya said.
Turning to her men, she said, “We need to do this quickly. Let’s move. I need…” She hesitated and cocked her ear. Looking at Maltoki, she said, “Do you hear that?”
From farther down the tunnel he could hear shouting and what sounded like fighting. “Let’s go,” he said, and began jogging down the tunnel his pistol held in front of him. The shouting grew louder and Maltoki saw shadows playing on the wall of the tunnel. Rounding a curve, he came upon a crowd of dirty men pushing three bound human soldiers in front of them. Maltoki stopped and watched in amusement. The captive Am’Segid had done all the hard work for them.
The group of ragged workers halted their progress when they saw the squad. A lone voice spoke from the front. “More soldiers! Let’s get them too!”
The crowd surged forward, brandishing tools and the weapons they had taken from the soldiers. Maltoki’s smile faded. The squad members were wearing human uniforms and helmets. The reality of being run over by a mob caused him to throw down his gun, take off his helmet and raise his hands. He shouted at the men, hoping that someone shouting in native Aerean would get their attention. One man in front held up his hands and stopped the advancing mob. He stepped forward holding up his lamp. Maltoki cautiously stepped into the light, his hands still raised.
“Don’t shoot. We’re brothers here to take you away from this hellhole.”
The man regarded him silently and then extended his hand to Maltoki. They grasped hands and then the curly-haired man pulled him into a hug.
“It’s good to see an Am’Segid with a weapon,” said the dirty man. With that he raised his arms into the air and a cheer echoed off the walls and up the tunnel.
Ammaya stepped into the light, her helmet off as well. “We’re not safe yet. My pilot is telling me there are two human ships flying in low and fast. We need to get out of here quickly. Leave the soldiers, and let’s move up the tunnel.”
The men followed Ammaya and Denar up the tunnel while the rest of the sentinels took up positions at the rear of the group. Several minutes later they exited the mine through the torn door and sprinted across the dusty ground to the waiting aircraft. The ship hovered several feet off the ground, dust billowing from the backwash of the landing thrusters, the ramp barely touching the ground. The rest of the sentinels stood on the ramp and urged them to run faster.
“Let’s go! Let’s go!” Zakari yelled at them, pulling men into the craft. Maltoki glanced behind him as his feet pounded across the hard-packed ground. Two human ships screamed over the Asimian Plains.
Denar was standing on the ramp urging him forward. “Faster, or you’re going to be a permanent resident!”
The ship began to rise higher as Maltoki took two long strides and launched himself toward the ramp. Denar caught his right hand and pulled him the rest of the way, and the two of them rolled into the hold of the ship. Maltoki’s shoulder impacted the deck, and bolts of pain radiated from the spot where the piece of shrapnel was embedded in his shoulder. He gritted his teeth, imagining the metal cutting further into his flesh.
The ramp closed behind him. Cirta throttled up the engines and the ship rocketed into the Aerean sky. Thrown by the force of the engines, Maltoki rolled back down the ramp and hit the hull of the ship. The ship lurched to one side as the pilot banked hard one way and then the other. Maltoki tried to gain purchase on the slick metal, but was unable to find anything to grip with his good arm.
Explosions thundered on the other side of the thin metal hull, vibrating the deck. The ship bucked, throwing him forward and back up the ramp. His head bounced off the metal and darkness began to crowd out the light. Maltoki flailed for something to hold onto, but instead felt an arm encircle his chest and pull him into a tight embrace. He tried to stand, but was held tight. Maltoki fought the darkness, but the pounding in his head was int
ense and he surrendered to unconsciousness.
CHAPTER THREE
Aereas - Alam, sentinel command hub
The knot in Calier’s stomach tightened as the green triangle representing the Valkyrie that Ammaya’s squad was flying barely stayed ahead of the pursuing red triangles. He leaned closer to the image, praying for a burst of speed for the green triangle.
“This is going to be a close one,” Jondon growled. He stood with his arms folded in front of him, his eyes fixed on the desperate race playing out in front of him. “Cirta’s good, but I hope he has a trick or two we haven’t seen yet because he’s going to need them.”
Cirta’s strained voice cut into their conversation. “There’s a narrow canyon close by. I’m going to lead them in and hope I’m the only one who comes out. We’ll need to skinny up, but I know the ins and out. The rocks in the canyon will probably block the comm while we’re in there.”
Jondon pressed a button on the table, opening the comm channel. “Understood, Cirta. See you on the other side.”
The green hologram dipped into the canyon and faded away.
Calier stared at the electronic representation of the canyon as if to will Cirta’s craft through unscathed. The people in the room remained silent, keeping a vigil for their brothers and sister. Several people closed their eyes and breathed silent prayers.
The sharp crack of Jondon’s heavy hand slamming the table made the room jump. “By Aereas, they should be out by now. Where are they?”
Several seconds of interminable silence stretched out as the room held its collective breath.
“Annnnd we’re out and alone, Alam!” Cirta’s voice crackled over the comm. A cheer went up from the crowd. Calier closed his eyes and let out a long, slow breath. He’d lost too many friends already. Losing Maltoki would be more than he could handle.
“Alam, we’re coming home, but we’re going to take the long way just in case there’s somebody watching.”
“Understood, Cirta,” Jondon said. He leaned against the holographic table, hands on his hips and head bowed, releasing the tension of the last several minutes.
“Cirta, it’s Calier. How many new friends did we make today?”
There was a brief silence. “Thirty-five, and I promised them you would have a home-cooked meal and maybe some of Jondon’s special juice he keeps hidden in the bottom drawer of his desk waiting when they step off this bird.”
Calier watched a smile crease Jondon’s face. “We may be able to oblige them. Anyone hurt?”
A moment of silence followed before Cirta’s crackling voice came back. “Bumps and bruises mostly, but Maltoki’s arm’s in bad shape. Shrapnel, I think. Have a med team ready when we land.”
Calier chest tightened. How many times had Maltoki required medical attention after missions? More than he could remember. At least, he reminded himself, the young man was coming home from the mission. That was more than some could say.
The smile Jondon had worn easily just moments before faded. “Understood. I’ll alert Mirala and her team. See you in the hangar.”
“Thanks, Alam. Cirta out.”
The comm went silent and Jondon straightened and let out a long breath. The room around them returned to its normal low buzz of work and focused conversation as people moved between work stations, coordinating the various services and activities which kept Alam running smoothly. Calier knew there were already several people setting up living quarters and necessary services for the thirty-five new residents who would be arriving soon.
Calier held up his tablet. “Have time to discuss something?”
Jondon raised an eyebrow. “Another plan?”
Calier nodded and Jondon waved him toward his office. Undoubtedly, Jondon already knew what Calier wanted to discuss. It was pretty much a weekly conversation between the two of them. Calier would present his plan and Jondon would tell him why it was too dangerous and point out the sentinels just didn’t have enough information to pull off a deep infiltration mission.
It didn’t matter to Calier. He’d keep pressing. He must. She was too important and he’d made promises he had to keep.
There were a lot of things he didn’t know, but one thing he did know was he wouldn’t stop until he safely brought Berit back to Alam.
CHAPTER FOUR
Aereas - somewhere over Sho’el Forest
An arm was draped over Maltoki’s chest when he awoke. It took him a second to remember where he was, but the pain pulsing in his arm quickly brought everything into focus. He looked up and saw it was Denar who held him. His other arm was tangled in a seat restraint to keep them from being thrown around the hold.
Maltoki grimaced as his arm throbbed. “I knew we’d gotten closer after the forest, but this is taking the relationship to a place I’m not sure I’m ready to go.”
Denar pushed him away and then stood up. “Find yourself a seat and strap in.”
Grabbing the seat in front of him, Maltoki slowly stood. A wave of dizziness rolled over him. He closed his eyes and waited for it to pass. He took his seat, trying to use his left arm to buckle his restraint, but the pain was too intense. A serrated piece of metal protruded from a bloody hole in the uniform jacket.
Ammaya approached with the med kit and pressed clean gauze around the shrapnel. She was quiet, her face hard.
He felt something trickling down his forehead. Maltoki swiped at it, and the back of his hand came away red. He turned the hand toward Ammaya and showed her the blood.
“Some nurse you are.”
The woman scowled and shot him a glance that cut off any other remark he might have made. There was no need to press his luck with Ammaya. She was fuming.
“I’m not in the mood for your smart remarks, Maltoki. It would be in your best interest to shut up for the rest of the trip home.” Her words low and dangerous, she muttered under her breath. “Denar should have let your insubordinate behind roll out the back of the ship.”
Ammaya was really mad this time. He decided to keep the witty comments to himself.
“Did we shake the human ships?”
She nodded. “Cirta took us into a narrow canyon. It was close, but we were the only ones to come out.”
Maltoki felt a bit of pride fill his chest. He’d been the one to rescue Cirta on his first raid as a sentinel, so in effect the fact that Cirta was in the cockpit and they were still alive was a direct result of Maltoki’s actions. Come to think of it, his actions on that day had been a bit insubordinate as well. He couldn’t help but notice good things happened when he didn’t follow the rules.
“Nena, can you make sure those men have water?” Ammaya said to her second-in-command. “Give them our bottles if we don’t have any extra,” Ammaya said to her second-in-command.
“I’m feeling a bit parched as well, Nena,” Maltoki said. Ammaya’s hand tightened around the wound, sending a new bolt of agony searing into his arm. “Owww, lighten up on the grip, Captain.”
“Nena, take care of the other men first and if there’s anything left maybe I’ll let this insubordinate toad have some.”
“Aye, Captain,” said Nena. He unbuckled his harness, gathered up the sentinels’ water bottles, and handed them out to the men they’d rescued.
A low groan escaped Maltoki’s lips. “No, really, Ammaya, you can lighten the grip anytime.”
The woman’s dark hair whipped around her face as she rounded on Maltoki. “Count yourself fortunate I didn’t let you bleed out on the deck. This is the third time you’ve deliberately disobeyed me. I…You know what, we’ll talk about this later after I’ve had time to decide what I’m going to do with you.”
“But…”
The pure venom that filled Ammaya’s eyes was enough to stop him in mid-sentence. He closed his mouth and looked out the window again. He felt the ship begin to descend and watched the forest coming closer. The carpet of trees beneath him gave way to another narrow canyon, this one carved by the Tefillia River. Cirta took them into the canyon i
n hopes the rock around them and the modifications they’d made to the onboard electronics would mask their signature. Ahead of them was the solid rock wall of Mt. Aelyon. The mountain stood tall and strong, an impenetrable fortress. Maltoki looked down at the floor and gripped his seat with the hand of his good arm.
He hated this part.
Maltoki didn’t need to look; he knew with stomach-lurching certainty what Cirta was doing. No matter how many times he told himself he wasn’t going to watch, he always did. The ship hurtled toward the mountain. Cirta hadn’t cut the engines at all. The solid rock wall was right before them, and then they passed through the wall.
It was another hologram, like the one hiding the cave entrance leading into Alam.
The engines began to whine, their pitch changing from a low rumble to ear-splitting in an instant. The restraints tightened around Maltoki’s chest, the force of the deceleration throwing him against the webbed material. Surprised yelps and gasps came from the men they’d rescued.
Leaning forward, Maltoki looked out the forward window. The ship’s lights illuminated the back wall of the cave. It was mere feet from the nose of the ship and no hologram this time. If Cirta hadn’t ignited the braking thrusters at just the right time, the ship would have slammed into the rock wall and they’d have fallen to a spectacular and fiery death.
The ship was motionless for a moment, and then Maltoki’s stomach floated into his throat as the craft began its descent down a narrow, rocky shaft. A minute later the landing thrusters ignited, slowing their fall, and the blessed thump of landing gear sounded against a solid rock floor. Maltoki let out the breath he’d been holding. Cirta had unbuckled himself from the cockpit and was walking toward them.
“Nice landing, Cirta. Terrifying as always,” Maltoki said.
Cirta saluted him. “I aim to please.” His expression changed when he saw Maltoki’s arm. “Are you going to be okay? That looks pretty bad.”
“If Nurse Ammaya here doesn’t kill me, I should pull through just fine.”
