Son of Justice (30 page)

It is not an exact transference, but should suffice, Captain.

Oh, yes. Aank was also with them. Now that Eli understood how important the tiny engineer could be, he wanted him close. But not too close. He stood near the rear of the assembled group where he could be protected.

We are secure here, Captain. The closest potential combatant is at the top of this ramp
.

Thank you, Aank.

Eli shook his head and briefly wondered why the soldiers were even necessary when the Alliance had the ability to read the enemy’s minds.

We are nonviolent, and only wish to serve
.

Okay, Aank. Enough of the running commentary. I don’t expect an answer to every unspoken question.

Eli couldn’t see it, but he somehow felt the Waa’s eyelids slide slowly and deliberately down over the large black eyes. Once. Twice. The blinks carried a hint of offended annoyance at the slight rebuke. Eli smiled. He couldn’t help but wonder if all Waa were as sensitive. The absence of two more mental blinks probably indicated they weren’t, and he felt a twinge of guilt.

I’m sorry, Aank. Just feeling a bit anxious about the current situation.

A rush of soothing calmness quickly settled his thoughts, and Eli understood at once the feeling had come from the Waa and that he was forgiven. He silently thanked the engineer and focused on the present situation.

“How’s it coming, Benson?”

“Almost there, Captain. Just a minute or so to go.”

As soon as they were retrieved from the holding pens, Eli sent the Alliance soldiers who had been held captive back through the portal to Rhino-3. The weeks aboard the Zrthn ship had taken their toll, and they needed medical attention. Many were suffering from moderate to severe skin conditions, while others displayed some type of respiratory infection. Both illnesses were likely caused by the damp conditions on board the ship.

All of the prisoners were malnourished, a result of the poor Zrthn diet. Eli had paused to inspect a bowl of the putrid, fishlike soup that the prisoners had been given day after day, and pushed it away at the first smell. Eating that particular gruel wasn’t something he ever wanted to experience. He’d take the processed food pastes served in the chow hall over what these poor troops had been forced to endure, and silently swore to never complain about Alliance food—real or processed—ever again.

Of the former prisoners, only Lieutenant Benson and First Sergeant Twigg remained with the two platoons of Shiale Rangers Eli had brought aboard. Both were still fit for duty and refused to leave the ship. Eli understood and acceded. They had earned their place, and he couldn’t deny their need to face what lay ahead. Each had been refitted with standard weapons, a cache of which had been found in a storage area near the sorting room on the second level. Benson retained the Zrthn weapon he had “liberated” from its previous owner, and it hung from a strap at his waist.

All of the human rangers were now taking turns connecting their armor to his. In this fashion, each passed a small percentage of their charge over to him.

“Okay, Captain,” Benson gave a thumbs up and clapped the “donating” ranger on the back as he disconnected his suit. “I’m at eighty percent.”

“Excellent,” Eli acknowledged and turned his attention to the assembled force. “Okay, let’s move out. Quietly. Armored rangers in the front, Minith rangers behind.”

He heard the grumbling and the looks of anger cross the features of the large warriors. It wasn’t unexpected.

“I understand you want to fight,” he addressed the Minith. Although he could never say it out loud, he knew their aggressive tendencies and love of battle often overruled their common sense. “But the weapons we’ve encountered here on the ship don’t seem to work against our armor. That’s the only reason I’m asking you to stay back. We’re protected. Also, if I’m not mistaken, we’re going to need your battle skills soon enough.”

The last comment got several nods, and Twigg stepped forward.

“We will follow your lead, Captain.” He looked over the assembled Minith with a look that dared them to argue the point any further. “And we will be prepared to fight when the time is right.”

Twigg was a well-known warrior among his people, and his words seemed to dispel any further discontent. Eli nodded to the first sergeant and turned toward the ramp. It was three meters wide, which accommodated two armored rangers side-by-side.

He and Benson took lead positions.

“We ready for this EJ?”

Eli couldn’t tell him that he already knew what to expect. Or that this would likely be a cake walk. So he just hefted his Ginny into position, nodded and said, “Let’s go.”

The ramp wasn’t steep, but it was long and circular. Because he now held some of Ah-loon’s memories, he knew it followed a path that mirrored the ship’s exterior. He also understood the gradual ramp was designed to best accommodate the Zrthn leg-tentacles. While Zrthns could navigate stairs, they weren’t an ideal manner of getting from one deck to another. Eli noted and filed that piece of data away in his mental file, then made an official note in his suit’s database. The official note, like the full vid of what they encountered on the ship, would be automatically transferred to the Alliance repository when they returned to Telgora.

Eli and Benson reached the top of the ramp and entered a hallway that led right and left. Eli turned left without pausing and picked up his pace. He tucked the Ginny into the sheath on his back and calmly drew his side-arm—a standard pulse weapon that could stun or kill—from its holster. Unlike the Ginny, it was near-silent when fired. Which is what he wanted just now. If his (Ah-loon’s) memories were correct.

He turned right at the next intersection, spied the squid, and fired. The Zrthn appeared to be sleeping when the pulse entered his head, but Eli couldn’t tell for sure. Not that it mattered. The now-dead alien crumpled to the floor with a soft, wet, plopping sound.

The intelligence they had gotten from Ah-loon was spot on, and Eli breathed a small sigh of relief. In the back of his mind, he had still held some doubt, still thought something might go wrong. But not now.

Sorry for doubting you, Aank.

Eli felt the mental blink-blink that he was coming to associate with the Waa, and smiled.

Eli and Benson held up just shy of the wide doorway where the dank, gray blood of the Zrthn guard had begun spreading across. It was being absorbed by the spongelike flooring.

“Good shot, EJ. Excellent reflexes.”

They were on internal comms, but Eli still winced at the sudden voice in his helmet. “Not now. The command center is just inside. Remember the plan we discussed. This is a large room and will probably be occupied by a dozen or so enemy. Few, if any, will be armed. Take down any who look like a threat, but we need to capture as many as we can. You ready?”

“Sure.”

Eli took a moment to switch out the sidearm for the Ginny. Firepower was needed now, not silence. He then turned his attention to the doorway and realized he had no way of opening it. He gaped at the panel next to the door and wondered how it worked. His (Ah-loon’s) memory didn’t provide an answer.

“What’s the problem, Captain Justice?”

Eli shook his head and kicked himself for not thinking of this detail. He was on the verge of asking Aank for help when Benson reached down, grabbed an arm-tentacle, and dragged the squid toward the panel. With the armor’s assistance, the movement seemed effortless.

“I got this.”

Eli watched as Benson placed the six finger-tentacles on the circles drawn on the panel. Each made a small sucking noise and held in place when he pressed them down individually. When the sixth “finger” was in place, Benson looked to Eli, gave a nod, then pushed inward on the panel. The door whisked to the side, and the interior of the command center was revealed.

Benson beat Eli into the space and turned left toward his assigned zone. Eli moved directly forward, scanning for targets, confident the ranger behind him would move left, as he had been instructed.

Several of the aliens’ heads popped up and spun in their direction. What appeared to be curiosity at their entrance was soon replaced with a buzz of activity and surprised urgency. The chirping-shuttering noises that made up their language shifted into overdrive as they no doubt recognized their guests as bi-peds. Armed bi-peds.

The alien on the far right of Eli’s assigned zone lifted a weapon, but Eli was prepared and the Ginny quickly turned the threat into a gray spray of scattered flesh and blood. He scanned his zone for additional threats but saw only cowering figures. Several had their “arms” in the air and their finger-tentacles splayed in surrender. On a subconscious level, he heard the sounds of his fellow soldiers eliminating threats in their assigned zones. Those sounds abruptly ended and he heard announcements of “clear” before issuing his own “all clear.”

The Shiale Rangers were now in possession of a Zrthn space craft.

The question was, what would they do with it?

Lieutenant Colonel Becca Conway sighed and turned to the next page of the training report. When she accepted the position as commander of the Shiale Ranger Battalion, she had envisioned so much more . . . excitement than what the job actually offered. Instead of leading her troops on dangerous missions that were crucial to the security of the Alliance, she spent her hours worrying over personnel issues and readiness reports. The latest mission to Rhino-3 was the most interesting thing to happen in years, and here she was—left behind while the least senior captain in the entire Alliance Defense Force got the call to action.

She was wondering how young Captain Zero was getting along on his first assignment when she heard the unmistakable sound of weapons fire erupt from the front of the building. She raced to the window in time to see a small group of Minith soldiers—her soldiers—step across two prone forms. The two forms—one human and one Minith—had previously been guarding the front entrance, but now lay dead or dying. And their attackers were entering the foyer just down the hall.

“What the flock!”

A thousand questions ran through her head, but she pushed them aside as she sprinted to the weapons cabinet at the back of her office. She was a firm believer in “hope for the best, prepare for the worst,” and the worst demanded she arm herself. Her fears seemed to prove accurate as the firing continued down the hall and grew closer. She had just finished locking and loading a pulser rifle when the doors to her office slammed open.

She turned, aimed, and fired the weapon in a single, practiced motion. The well-aimed burst struck Captain Akko, the leader of Charlie Company, in the torso and slammed him backward into the two Minith rangers trailing behind. The trio fell and Becca advanced. She cast a quick look past them and saw the red and purple blood splatters that marked the deaths of her support staff. They hadn’t been armed, so had no chance at defending themselves against whatever madness drove these three. That quick glance of confirmation took a fraction of a second and was all the proof she needed.

She returned her attention to the two remaining Minith attackers. Subconsciously, she noted they were bringing their weapons to bear on her, but the conscious part of her—that part that drove her warrior instinct and controlled her trigger finger—took precedence. Less than a second and a half separated the first trigger pull that killed Akko from the second and third pulls that dispatched the other two traitors.

She put a follow-up burst in each body to be sure, then rushed past their crumpled forms to check on her staff.

* * *

Drah was seated comfortably behind his previous senior officer’s desk. He was receiving a steady influx of reports from the key leaders he had set into motion. Most were positive, with announcements that his forces were in control of the key installations around Telgora, including the mines, the Alliance human headquarters building, and the primary space landing facility. The latter was key to their success, and its capture had greatly relieved the stresses he had been feeling since putting his plan into motion.

There were only two apparent failures.

The first was his expectation that all of the Minith on the planet would rally to his battle cry and join the movement for emancipation and dominance. While his leaders had managed to sway a great number of their brothers to the cause, most—a full 80 percent—of the Minith on the planet had declined to commit themselves to the cause . . . yet. Instead, they expressed a desire to sit back and observe which way the tide flowed before taking a side.

He raged at the shortsighted weaklings, who refused to reach out and grasp their freedom from this sham of an alliance. With their backing, taking over this planet would have been a leisurely pace around the room. Without them—well, supremacy was still a foregone feat, but one that would require a bit more work. As long as they didn’t take up arms against the movement, he would succeed. Notes would be taken, however, on where each warrior chose to stand. When the fighting ended, settlements would be made accordingly.

Yes, he would pit the thirty-thousand Minith warriors that now followed him against the human’s fifteen-thousand without any worries over the eventual outcome. With Oinoo’s ten thousand Zrthn troopers added into the fray, the odds became even more tilted in their favor. Thanks to the surprise element of the uprising, a quarter of the human force on Telgora—five thousand soldiers—had already been killed or captured. The remainder were scattered across the planet, running from the Minith, hiding from their fate.

The second apparent failure was their inability to seize the Shiale Ranger Battalion headquarters. The force assigned to assault and take that location had yet to check in, and several second-hand reports indicated that the human sheep, Colonel Conway, was still in control and had neutralized their advances. Oh well. He could hardly expect perfection, and in the larger scheme, the facility was minimal. Two of the battalion’s ranger companies were off-world at the present time, which limited the danger. He would merely circle back around to her when he solidified his holdings elsewhere.