Thad added another observation. “Remember, the Krall joint clan council wanted Koban untouched and pristine, until they have bred warriors that can match the animals here and return. That would take fifty or a hundred breeding cycles, based on what Telour said the day he left us to die. There are not supposed to be any Krall visiting here for hundreds of years. I think we have a small group of Krall outlaws out there on the ramp, who think they are faced with another group of Krall criminals inside the dome.”
Dillon supplied the motive for a negotiation. “They want to make a deal with the other group. A mutual bond of silence, live and let live, with no loss of status from their respective clans.”
Mirikami pulled at his lip. “We need to find a way to turn this to our advantage, but we can’t step out and talk with them, and they aren’t just going to walk over to us, trusting the “honor” of another clan. Dead Krall tell no tales.”
He considered and rejected having Jake speak for them in a fake negotiation. “Jake may be able to translate, but he isn’t going to fool them for more than a few simple sentences as another Krall. He doesn’t even fool humans for long in Standard. We need to do something soon, before they lose patience.”
Dillon had another proposal to delay for time. “How about Jake saying an octet leader is on a hunt and say no more. That way they know they are outnumbered eight to six, and it explains why they have been waiting so long for the leader we appear to be contacting.”
Thad, his military training kicking in, disagreed with that tactic. “They are holding back an attack because they suspect they may be outnumbered, but Krall rhinolo hunts involve at least three or four warriors. An octet would guarantee they have the numerical advantage right here, at this moment, six against four or five, and they will likely attack a known weaker force. These six have their shuttle ready to fly, to support them with lasers and missiles in a fight, so we don’t want that lifting off either. They would probably pretend they have more crew aboard the Clanship as a bluff. I would, so I doubt they will act intimidated. I think we need them to be so confident of a victory in a fight that they all rush over here after us.”
“Thad, you’re touching on the same idea I have been reluctantly considering. Letting them know whom they really face inside the dome. They don’t respect or fear humans, but anyone that steps out to show their face to prove we are here probably won’t survive that exposure. I might simply address them in Standard, with Jake doing a relay for me on their frequency.”
“Tet, if the five that are out of the shuttle run for the Clanship, I doubt we can stop two or three from getting inside successfully. Destroying the ship would be the surest option right now. Why don’t you join Alyson and prepare to bail out of the shuttle hatch as Jake lifts our shuttles to ram.”
“Ah…, that matter I put off discussing about a prisoner aboard? Sergeant Reynolds was a prisoner, held with sixteen other Poldark civilians for biological experiments. I have freed them, but we can’t take them all down that rope where the Krall can see them. Perhaps out a sally portal at the base, towards the dome. Some of them might make it with heavy enough cover fire.”
“Tet, if we are about to lose control of that ship, it has to go, you know that. Whether they can get out or not.”
In the background, Mirikami could hear Ethan saying something to his dad about the cats. “What was that about the cats?”
“Ethan proposes we send the cats out a side entrance to get behind the Krall, out of sight and under cover. Have them roar to distract them. That would give you some time to run for the dome. They would damn well know humans are here after that.”
“OK, send them out. But can Ethan explain that to them well enough?”
“The cats understand words with pictures now Tet, particularly from the kids that spent their entire lives with them. They just don’t think with words as we do. Ethan will go with them, and Carson will stay here. We need their accuracy and speed in front and behind the Krall. I wish we could talk to Alyson. We need all three of them against six of those tough fast bastards.”
“Thad, I’m going back down to get Alyson. I want her at the base portals with me when we open up to make our run. She can shoot straight while on the run, and I’m going to share a pistol with the Sergeant here. He’s fired a Krall pistol before. I still had at least thirty or forty decks to climb to reach the top, and the Krall don’t seem to use elevators. At least I don’t see any, and I don’t have time. I’ll plant the grenades in the main thruster engine room on the way down, on some fuel lines. I’ll try to set them to blow if the ship tries to lift. That probably would be repairable damage if they don’t crash, but would give us some time. I have to move now; I’ll call you when I’m at the bottom portals. Mirikami Out.”
Ethan went into the dome to lead Kit and Kobalt to a side dome entrance, around the curve and not visible to the Krall. Mirikami motioned to Reynolds, and then asked the other’s to follow him down the wide spiral stairs, explaining the plan as he went. Formulating his ideas as he walked and talked.
Reynolds tore off the left sleeve on the shirt he wore, revealing the partly healed arm stump. He handed the sleeve to Mirikami, explaining that with two hands he should be able to tear strips for tying it to the grenade pins. He’d observed the two old-fashioned manual release grenades on Mirikami’s belt. They used simple pull-pins, instead of electronic timers with multiple options, but he didn’t ask where he’d found such antiques.
The Sergeant’s ill-fitting too-small shirt was fortunately made of simple Poldark grown cotton. That former Rim world colony couldn’t produce Smart Fabric clothes. It was a good thing, because they needed something they could actually cut. Mirikami pulled his hunting knife from the sheath stuffed inside his boot top, and cut some strips.
Several decks down, moving faster because he knew there were no Krall waiting, Mirikami started towards the thruster engine. Looking back, he realized none of the others, not even the Sergeant had made it this far. He called up through the overhead opening in the deck, and heard them answer from a full deck higher.
He’d forgotten how this gravity had felt to him when he first arrived here. There were no handholds or guardrails on the Krall stairs, and these people didn’t even have normal human muscle adaptation for this planet yet, let alone the clone mods he had. They were sitting down on each step and scooting forward to the next, staying away from the open stair edge, which Mirikami had so casually trotted down.
He told them to keep going down while he set his grenades, and he was sure he could quickly catch up to them. He set his first grenade on the edge of a narrow ledge by two large fuel lines, so that it should tip over from launch vibrations. A strip of cloth tied off to a thin control line would yank the pin when the grenade fell two feet. He tied another two strips together to hold the grenade aloft after only a three-foot drop, keeping it closer to the fuel lines and off the floor, where it might roll under something that blocked its fragments.
Now he needed to place the second grenade so its explosion would happen even before the Clanship lifted. He spotted a motor driven shift of a circulation fan, probably used to blow fumes from the area. He’d seen such fans on human ships, and they normally kicked on when the fuel pumps were activated, pressurizing the lines for feeding the combustion chambers. Fumes were toxic if there were a leak, and potentially explosive if there were an oxidizer leak. The fan would most likely switch on if the ship were preparing to launch. He reached through the fan housing and tied a cloth strip by slipknot to the fan blade shaft so that it would wind around, and pull the grenade pin. He set the little bomb on what looked like an electronic control module, with shielded wires running to engine components near the fan. He used his last strip of material to tie it in place.
These were crude and simple measures, but perhaps enough to stop a launch, and if not, the second blast might spill enough flaming fuel to bring the rising Clanship down. The best scenario was that the Krall never got back inside. This was a fully f
unctioning Jump Ship. Keeping it intact for human use would be a tremendous prize.
Outside the ship, Ethan opened a maintenance access door from the dome, located far enough around the curve of the building that a view of the Clanship and shuttle was blocked. The problem was that the tarmac was wide enough that they couldn’t reach the tall grass and shrubs at its edge without coming into view of the Krall shuttle. They were sure to be watching in every direction. This was something Ethan hadn’t considered. He frilled both cats with the minor change in plan, and they proceeded around the dome away from the Clanship, gradually spiraling out towards the edge of the wide tarmac. They were almost to the next dome garage entrance before they could reach the cover of vegetation unseen.
After that, he ran crouched low to the ground, head held below the grass tops, the heavy .50 caliber rifle carried loosely in his right hand, nearly matching the pace of the slinking great cats. This was actually an exercise he and Carson had conducted numerous times with these cats, and other TGs and their cats in hunts for game. This time the stakes were more than an empty stomach or loss of bragging rights if they spooked the prey too soon. Wind direction factored into this stalk, knowing how keen the Krall sense of smell was. The breeze blew from the outer compound, directly in line with the Clanship and dome, bringing the warriors only scents of the grass and distant plains.
Finally, Ethan knew they were as near to the Krall as they should risk. He was perhaps a hundred yards behind them. He signaled the cats to come close, after they had halted the instant they heard his soft steps halt. He frilled them again.
Separate and wait for me to signal your challenge roars. He sent an image of his raised fist as the signal. Uncle Tet or our fathers will tell me when to signal you. The cats knew of the “far talk device” he carried, a portable radio set to vibrate rather than talk today, and could receive and send a text message that they understood was a type of mental image of human words, which did not require frilling.
Both cats passed him the same mental image question again, that they had asked twice already, and were burning to have him say “yes.” Can we slay these killers and wasters of meat if they fight us, or attack our pride?
Yes, but at the right time for our pride leaders. We want to capture at least one alive, two if possible, to read their mind images. We need to know if more red ones will come after them, and we do not want them to get inside their flying thing.
He gave them one more image, a signal for a recall to him if needed. Ethan felt their muscles tremble from the pent up energy when he gave them that conditional yes answer to their question about killing the Krall. The sharp vivid images coming back from their minds would have made anyone not raised with them frightened, and possibly horrified. Ethan was neither.
Stay hidden. Go!
In a flash, they separated and vanished silently into the teal colored grass that matched their skin and short fur so well.
Mirikami rejoined and passed the prisoners still descending the stairs, some, despite youth, were running low on energy, and displayed the tremble of legs and arms that were fighting to ease them down the steps. Reynolds was using the wall to steady himself, and he seemed physically fit, aside from the missing arm. More so than the younger civilian men and women, but he had obviously not had an easy time as a prisoner.
“People, we have only four more decks to go, and on the next deck down I’ll make a brief detour to bring in a young lady that helped me get inside the ship. She will add two more guns to my two, and believe me when I say she is vastly more proficient with them than anyone you have ever met. We will both help you down to the next to last level, and figure out what our next move will be.”
Mirikami dashed ahead, leaving Reynolds leaning on the wall, looking at the obviously older and smaller man in wonder, shaking his head.
Pressing the inner airlock door’s buttons, it whooshed open. He had closed the inner door for Alyson to step into the outer door faster if needed, but the last he heard she was still in the small hanger watching from the open hatch. He activated the outer door, which automatically closed the inner door behind him. As he stepped into the hanger, he found he was looking down a pistol barrel.
Of course he was. She hadn’t known who was coming through that door. With her enhanced reaction speed, he barely had time to register the gun pointing at him before it was in her holster again. “Any luck Sir? I didn’t hear any bangs.” She had glanced at his belt to note the missing grenades. Her half smile was proof she wasn’t particularly concerned, trapped on an enemy ship notwithstanding.
“I placed the grenades to try to knock out the thruster engine if they try to leave. I never got high enough to find the Jump Drives. Instead, I found us some new friends from Human Space. There are seventeen prisoners working their way down to the bottom of the ship. They are nearly out of strength in this gravity, and I don’t know how we will get them from here to the dome alive.”
“Wow. New faces! Come on, I want to meet them.” She jumped to the door and pressed the open buttons. The same nothing happened as before. Mirikami pressed, and it whisked right open. They looked at each other with raised eyebrows. Alyson saw the other door and keypad, walked over and encountered another failure to communicate with this darned Krall ship.
Mirikami again opened the door. “The prisoners are unable to open or close doors here either. I let them out but they had a keypad right by the door that had them locked in a large compartment. The standard press worked for me but not for them. Let me put my hand on yours, but you press the keys.” The door whipped back open. Mirikami pulled his hand away, and Alyson couldn’t close it again.
“Kiddo, none of you had better stray too far from me, or at least my hand, else you can’t get off this boat. I’m not positive why as of yet, but I think I have the magic touch.”
He led her over to the stairs, where the end of the line of former prisoners was partway down to the next deck.
Reynolds had stayed behind to see whom Mirikami was bringing back with him. She was young, pretty, taller than average, medium length blond hair in a short pony tail, and moved in a way that seemed nearly a glide, smoother and more graceful than he’d ever seen anyone move, in any gravity. She looked very fit, without looking “muscled,” and carried two Krall designed pistols in low-slung tied off holsters. The clips on both hers and Mirikami’s guns were longer than any he’d seen before for Krall pistols. The fanny pouches they had with them were just the right width to hold up to six similar sized clips.
Mirikami made a brief introduction to the group, and since he didn’t know the other prisoner’s names yet, didn’t ask them now to save time. He indirectly made Alyson aware of the one prisoner he expected to be of some help if they got into the fight he believed was inevitable. “Sergeant Reynolds, if you can slide this into your waistband please accept one of my pistols.”
He handed the weapon over butt first, safety on. He was pleased to note Reynolds verified the safety setting as he accepted the gun, and placed it under his left armpit and, somewhat clumsy using one hand, ejected the clip, looked at the armor piercing rounds, and reloaded the clip. As he slid the gun under his overly snug waistband, Mirikami told him more about the weapon.
“It has a full thirty-two round clip, and I have it set for semiautomatic. The knob on the back end is a selector for full automatic, but that empties your clip fast, and I didn’t bring enough ammo for two shooters. Here’s an extra clip, if you have a pocket.”
“I have a snug shallow pocket, but these were pants the Krall found to replace my bloody ragged and dirty uniform. I mean to speak harshly to their tailor.” Mirikami laughed again at his irreverent good humor in a bad situation.
“Thanks, this is the first time in weeks I haven’t felt gun naked with Krall around. Not that I can outshoot them, but it makes me feel better anyway. I feel bad leaving you with one less gun, but I actually am a decent shot, if not in the same speed class as a Krall. But then nobody is.” He laughed wryly.
“Trust me Sergeant. We have some youngsters here that are faster. Alyson is one of them. When the shooting starts, she will be who I’m counting on to provide cover fire if we need to run.”
Reynolds looked at the slender girl with a clearly skeptical expression. He didn’t say anything, but Mirikami and Alyson both smiled and glanced at each other.
“You look winded sergeant. Perhaps Alyson can assist you in getting down.” Mirikami winked at her.
Reynolds was about to make some polite refusal. However, Alyson stepped swiftly under his right arm, placing her left shoulder in his armpit, wrapped her left arm around his waist and lifted him easily. In a flash, she lightly skipped down the stairs to the next level, dancing lightly around the four people already on the steps, using the last inch of outside edge of each step, with Reynolds hanging over the dangerous drop in one arm of a mere girl.
The “Whoa, whoa, whoa, look out!” ended with him being deposited lightly on his feet at the bottom, and Alyson promptly leaped over ten feet back up the steps to bring down another tiring former prisoner. She repeated this for the last three in the line, depositing them on the final deck above the sally ports on the lowest level.
Jaw hanging open Reynolds blurted, “Son of a bitch, she’s strong as a man in armor.” Then realizing he had said that in front of a very young Lady, he apologized.
“I’m sorry Alyson. You just surprised the hel…, I mean the dickens out of me…, of us all.” The other younger people were also staring at her as if they didn’t believe what she had just done in this gravity. The sergeant had already calculated that his two hundred thirty pounds (minus one arm) was equivalent to nearly three hundred fifty pounds here.
Koban: The Mark of Koban Page 51
