Resolute Alliance (The War for Terra Book 6) Page 16

  “Liberty is maneuvering for an attack run,” the octopod said. “Weapons ports are opening and shields are up.”

  “Jakes!” Lee shouted, looking up to the pirate.

  “I told him to stand down,” Connor replied. “He ain’t listenin’ to me. Farthing, get Mendel up here now!”

  The felinoid tapped a key and called for the oversized pirate below. Lee watched as the stealthy ship swung under Resolute’s hull and begun to target Vadne ships. He could see the situation spiraling away again. If Connor Jakes became the reason for the destruction of his ship, he would be sure the pirate died with them if it was his last act.

  “Have the Demons target that ship,” Lee ordered. “He either backs off or I blow his ass out of the sky.”

  “I’m tryin’,” Jakes called back, speaking into the console to whoever was piloting the ship. “I think he got into the sugar again. Parker always was a bit attention deficit when he’s got his blood sugar up.”

  The bridge door opened, admitting Eli Mendel. For a moment, the big man stared at the ship on the projection screen. Jakes snapped his fingers, breaking the spell the ship had over him. Mendel looked to his captain for information and Connor motioned him down. After a few seconds of conversation, Mendel stood back up and stepped into the command well. He motioned for Farthing to open a video link to the Liberty. In moments, the screen shifted and a small, wiry man with an angular nose and greasy hair appeared. He was wearing a big grin and a foil wrapper was sitting in his lap.

  “Eli!” Parker Trega called through the connection. “What do you think of my new ride?”

  “Parker, stand down,” Eli called to his partner. “You’re about to get us all killed.”

  “I’m just havin’ a little fun, Eli. I wasn’t gonna hit anyone. Jeez, a few days in with the military and your ass closes up tight, don’t it?” Parker replied with a crooked smile.

  “Mister Trega,” Lee said, standing up beside big Eli. “If you do not release your targeting on those Vadne ships, I will destroy you and your new ship. Do I make myself clear?”

  “Captain?” Parker asked Jakes.

  “Better do what he says. This old ship may be out of date, but she could tear through our new ship before I even got a chance to stand on her. Do it, Parker.”

  The heads-up display blinked, indicating the targeting systems of the smaller ship had shut off. Parker looked disappointed. Eli waved to Farthing to drop the video and transfer the signal back to the back-up console. Lee wanted to listen to the conversation between the two pirates, but his attention was drawn back to the big screen. A new image had snapped on the screen. A regal-looking Vadne was staring around the bridge as if surveying the ship for purchase. It was unnerving as the oversized felinoid head locked its gaze on him. The alien was coated in a dense brown fur. A short muzzle and bright yellow eyes made him fearsome on the screen. Lee had to assume the effect was intended.

  “I am Captain Lee Pearce of the battleship Resolute,” Lee said to the screen. “To whom am I speaking?”

  “Captain Pearce, your reputation precedes you,” the Vadne replied in a deep growl. “I was expecting you to fire before we even closed on you. You must be getting soft.”

  “It is not my intention to—”

  “I don’t really care what Terrans intend. We have been monitoring the news service and saw what your Alliance does to those who stand up for their rights.”

  “We are not acting on behalf of the Alliance,” Lee replied calmly. “We are seeking—”

  “Don’t bother, Captain. We monitored your exit as that atrocity you call Trinity attacked the Ixloab. As for your search, we know who you are seeking and our leader has ordered you to step down. I’m sending coordinates.”

  The screen went blank as the image snapped off. Lee stared at the empty screen for a few moments before turning to Farthing. The Vadne officer was nodding his head, indicating the incoming message. A quick glance around the bridge showed his crew staring back at him.

  “Does the message indicate how we are supposed to arrive?” Lee asked. “Resolute isn’t exactly the most atmosphere friendly.”

  “Negative, sir,” Farthing replied. “The landing area is quite large and they say we can bring any personnel we want as long as they agree to leave weapons behind.”

  “Alright then,” Lee said, looking around the bridge again. “Jakes, have your ship dock to port. We’ll get a security team on board and meet our new friends. Farthing, have the Demons ride shotgun on Liberty.”

  “Aye, sir,” the first officer replied. “I assume I will be staying behind?”

  “Not this time. I want you along in case we need to put a friendlier face on things. Goldstein, you have the bridge.”

  “Captain Pearce,” Connor Jakes said. “It’ll be a real honor to have a medallioned hero on board my new ship. Just wait ‘til you see—”

  “I’m not going on board, Connor,” Lee said with a smile. “I think it’s time I stretched my space legs again.”

  19

  Planet Grekii

  The Demons descended from the sky, sunlight glaring from their polished silver skins. In the center of the formation, the Sweet Liberty Too fell away from space, shields absorbing the heat energy and shimmering in the hot, dry atmosphere. The ships appeared as a formation of raptors circling an unseen prey as they moved towards the Grekii landing platform. Dry sand blew away as the anti-gravs inverted and pushed a cushion of gravity under the ships, clearing the way for a perfect landing.

  As the ships settled and the dust cleared, a silver canopy popped open, admitting Lee Pearce to the hot, dry wind of the Barathists’ home-world. He removed the tight helmet and tossed it back into the seat behind him. There was a slight hum from his boots as he stepped carefully across the wing. The skin of his Silver Eagle had been molecularly bonded to be perfectly smooth. His only method of crossing the wing was to use the magnetic strips built into his boots. As he leapt to the ground, the boots made a loud crack against the stone platform.

  A loud hiss proclaimed the opening of the Sweet Liberty Too’s forward ramp. Connor Jakes stepped down into the bright sun, followed closely by Henry Moore and a team of soldiers from Resolute. Bringing up the rear were the Corsairs, minus Tuxor. He had agreed to stay on board the pirate vessel. The dry air made his skin flake off. Melaina Petros was the last out of the hatch and met Jakes as he crossed the platform to Lee.

  “Weapons down,” Lee ordered as the Demons stepped around the ships. “We don’t want to antagonize these people.”

  “Of course we left the guns on board, Cap’n. Mendel about started to cry, but I made him leave ‘em behind. Your security team ain’t too antaginizin’, are they?” Jakes asked with his characteristic grin.

  The team waited on the platform, sweating under their flight suits. The architecture of the spaceport was typical Vadne, but with an elegant style Lee had not seen before. Sandstone buildings rose into the sky as though sculpted from the desert. Rather than elevators, the buildings had exterior ramps to move people to different floors. Long, spiraling stretches of sandstone circled buildings which tapered in width as they stretched into the sky. The effect was of massive obelisks reaching for the sun. Farthing joined Lee, dressed in a dark blue jumpsuit with yellow bands at the shoulders denoting his command and communications status. He had his crest held half risen, keeping himself on guard for any circumstance. When he had crossed over from Resolute to Liberty, he had expressed his misgivings about the mission and the outcome. In his mind, the Barathists weren’t much more than terrorists like the other groups. They just had a quieter stance on violence.

  A figure appeared high on a building to the east, followed closely by a small procession of official-looking felinoids. The Vadne were tall, regal figures wrapped in a flowing toga-like garment. As they moved, they showed a flowing grace Lee had not seen on any of the officers and crew he served with. Farthing’s crest slowly rose to full height and began to darken. Lee held up a steadying hand
to the officer to calm him. Without weapons, they were badly outnumbered on the ground and he couldn’t afford to get into a fight. The procession reached the bottom of the ramp and moved in their direction. The lead Vadne held his head high, crests at full rise, and moved with a surety which told Lee he was a leader. They moved slowly across the landing field to stand before the team from Resolute.

  “You have honored our request to disarm,” the leader said. “We thank you for living counter to your species’ instincts. It pleases us that others are evolved enough to do this.”

  Lee was taken aback by the implied insult. The Vadne sense of honor had always fascinated him with its formality and strict rules. He had never understood them fully, but the compulsion to follow this sense had come in handy. He bowed slightly to the leader, a tall short-haired ginger with a missing tooth. The outlines of deep scars traced irregular lines through the fur of the man. Lee wondered what battles he had engaged in which had pushed him into the Barathists’ arms. In any case, the man was waiting for a response and Lee had let Farthing coach him in the proper forms.

  “It is every man’s duty to follow the necessities of the mind,” Lee said, quoting Baratha the Humble. “It is mine to receive you into my circle.”

  Spreading his arms wide, Lee pushed one foot forward and knelt back on his other leg. The move was an ancient greeting favored by the separatists. The leader chuffed a short bark, indicative of a laugh for the Vadne, and replied in a similar manner. Both men held the pose for a long moment. When Lee stood back up, his legs were burning from the pose. He hoped he wouldn’t need to repeat it soon. The leader stood to his full height and looked down on the group.

  “I assume you wish some of these fine creatures to accompany us to the presence of our leader. If you will follow me, I will allow you to take four with you and leave the rest to guard your ships.”

  “Thank you,” Lee replied. “May I be so humble as to request your name? I will honor you by repeating it to the best of my ability.”

  The felinoid looked down again with an expression Lee had come to recognize as a smile. The fact the creature had still not lowered his crest, though, told Lee the Vadne was still on guard. A low growl echoed from the throat of the alien. The sound escaping the muzzle was strange and incomprehensible to Lee. He knew some of the sound was in a register too low for his perception. The Barathist was insulting him. Instead of presenting him with a sound he might be able to repeat, the alien representative was sounding out his true name. He glanced at Farthing for some kind of assurance, but saw the other Vadne’s crest rise and color. Lee turned back and stared. He kept his face neutral; Vadne tended to perceive human smiles as aggressive displays of teeth if they had not been around Terrans. Instead, he lowered his head and did his best to imitate the sound. It sounded less like the sonorous howl he had just heard and more of a scratching, rumbling howl. The Vadne representative let an expression of condescension fall over his features.

  “Gourahaardt told us you were different from most Terrans, but I do not see it. You are a bit shorter and your hair is darker than most, but you are still Terran and not worthy of his attention,” the representative said. “He wishes to see you in the Chamber of Congress. Follow us and try to keep up. Bring your pet Vadne to translate if you need.”

  Farthing took an involuntary step toward the representative, who had already turned his back. Lee carefully stepped in between the two. There was a sharp tang to the air he recognized as the scent produced when Vadne are trying to fight. He waved his hand to Alice and Connor as Henry gave orders to the remaining guards. The remaining Demons moved back towards the Silver Eagles on the ground. As Lee and the group moved back towards the buildings, Henry joined them. It had been pre-arranged who would go if they needed to be separated, so no discussion was needed.

  As they moved further into the occupied area of the city, the architecture became lower and more architecturally comfortable. Serene-looking felinoids moved quietly through the streets, their purpose shrouded in the flowing togas they wore. For Lee, it was surreal. He kept expecting the crowds to surround them as the Ixloab had, but the creatures seemed oblivious to them. The only sign they were being watched was the crests which stayed up on each of the passing Vadne. From the corner of his eye, he noticed Farthing’s crest had risen as well and he had not bothered to smooth it down. The stiff spines which held the crest in place had straightened out and blood had caused the dark red color to show. Farthing’s white fur made the crimson sail seem even more menacing and it set Lee’s teeth on edge. He felt Alice’s hand slip into his for a moment with a squeeze. Without looking back, he squeezed back and then let go.

  They came to a wide building they had identified from orbit. From the ground, it seemed to curve away in a wide arc. Still made of the same sandstone as the rest, the building faded into the landscape, becoming a part of the desert rather than rising from it. A narrow stream ran through the center of town and circled the building. Lee knew the building was a near-perfect circle with a wide hole in the center. It served as the town center and religious hub of Barathist society. Its many halls were devoted to different parts of their faith. The representative waved a thick arm and pressed a small bracelet. From the sand, two arcs grew and met over the stream, forming a bridge.

  Lee and the others were shown over the bridge and into the main building. A low hum of voices grew in volume as they entered. Incongruous to the surroundings, a low computer port seemed to have been grown from the desert sand at the entrance and blinked a yellow light as they passed. The scent of incense and natural Vadne pheromones was intoxicating. Henry sneezed as soon as they were all in. He wiped his nose on his uniform sleeve and waved the rest away. The man’s eyes were watering and he seemed to be having difficulty breathing.

  “Representative,” Lee said, “my friend is having a medical issue. May he be released to return to our ship?”

  The representative grunted and waved Henry back outside. The rest of the team continued deeper into the building. Lee tried to keep his mind on the route in case they needed to escape, but they were taken in different directions and into a maze-like inner courtyard. He had to assume it was on purpose. After what seemed like kilometers, they were escorted into a wide room lit only by candles. Two semi-circular benches lined the walls and looked out onto a central court. In the center of the room was a wide, flat screen showing images of the Ixloab massacre. The image hit Lee hard. It was not footage from any news source; the destruction seemed much closer and more horrible. The big ginger showed the last of them in and then pulled the door closed, with him outside. Apparently, they did not perceive the team to be any threat to their leader.

  “Captain Pearce, Commander Bennett, Captain Connor Jakes, Commander Farthing,” a voice said in clear standard. “Your reputations precede you in our circle.”

  Lee stood and watched as the image of Ixloab on the screen vanished in a burst of flame and light. The Barathists must have had technology on board the station to have received the signal all the way to the end. As the projection faded, the lights in the room grew brighter. Hidden sconces raised the light slowly until Lee could make out the man he was speaking to.

  In all the years he had served in the military on distant campaigns and assorted ships, he had never thought he would see a fat Vadne. The creature he assumed was Gourahaardt seemed to envelop the bench with long black and white fur and rolls of fat. His wide muzzle blended into his neck under pinkish lips. His crest was down and the man seemed to have an air of peace about him. He seemed to purse his lips—as much as Vadne could do such a thing—and stared at Lee appraisingly.

  “Captain Pearce—may I call you Lee?” Gourahaardt asked without stopping. “Lee, we have a problem here. You have come here, disrupting the calm of our society and bringing disaster in your wake.”

  “My apologies to you, Senator,” Lee said. “In my humble actions, if I have—”

  “Oh stop that,” Gourahaardt replied. “I really despise that
sort of thing. It’s bad enough I hear it all the time from the people here. I don’t need it from a fellow member of the Confederacy.”

  “I’m sorry, Senator,” Lee stammered. “I don’t think I understand. You are the leader of these people?”

  “I’m sure you understand, Captain, there are leaders and there are leaders,” the man said, readying himself to leverage his bulk from the bench. “I am more of the stand in front of the cameras and make these people look reasonable kind of leader.”

  “Well then,” Farthing said, finally stepping forward to address the man. “Who is leading these people? We have important business and cannot be delayed by a mere functionary.”

  “My dear Captain. Could you please put a leash on your crew? It is unseemly for me to address a subordinate when we have business. I may not like the formality, but it has its place.”

  Again, Lee had to step between his first officer and a Barathist. He wasn’t sure he could do it a third time if the insult were as grave. Instead, he stepped forward to greet the large felinoid who was stepping down from the bench area and waddling towards the group.

  “Gourahaardt, my first officer speaks for me,” Lee said. “We are on an urgent mission from Admiral Chang of the Alliance and—”

  “The admiral is not the one who sent you on any mission,” Gourahaardt replied. “You have been out of touch for a bit, I think. You haven’t seen the latest news? I will show you.”

  The big felinoid reached over and tapped a band around his left arm. A new projection sprang to life on the screen. Lee and his team turned to watch as the image of Admiral Ronald Chang appeared. The man was wearing a simple tunic and trousers and was being escorted into the open ramp of a prison transport. His arms were bound and his feet had magnetic shackles, keeping him from walking with his usual confident gait. Lee had not seen the man since the days after the explosion, and he looked like a man in despair. His hair, now graying further than Lee remembered, was plastered to his head, and the dark circles under his eyes were deep. A voice droned on in the common tone of a news announcer.