Koban 4: Shattered Worlds (97 page)

“Sub leader, should I ask Huwayla why some are trusted and some are not?” Pildon was rather sure Bohdar didn’t want that asked.

All he received in reply was a red-pitted glare from black orbs, as the Gorth of the guardians considered which method of slow killing he’d like the soft one to suffer, if circumstances left him free to do that.

However, Pildon himself was troubled by the ship’s remarks. Somehow, these humans had quantum keys, and they were trusted, as was the Krall’tapi.

He wondered,
was that the same as being trusted as an operator of the living ships? As were the Krall’tapi?

His people were the sole trusted ones for the Krall to use. The reason the Krall’tapi still existed and received tattoo keys, was because they were trusted by the ancient ships. These human creatures might represent a threat to his people’s usefulness if the Krall could use them in the same way. He loved his people more than he despised the Krall, and he felt nothing for the humans. He’d not help them, if doing so endangered his people’s future existence.

The view of the humans outside suddenly revealed that they had split into a hand of separate forces, and they were moving across the skin of the ship at a rapid pace, if not also a peculiar mode of fast short steps. Pildon knew nothing of zero gravity outside the ship, or of magnetic boots on armor needed to stick to the ship’s skin. He knew gravity could be different on other worlds, and he’d been handicapped slightly by the heavier pull he felt inside Huwayla, when he first stepped inside her. The ship lore he had learned spoke of this, saying this was how their original world felt on its surface, and the pleasant smells and air pressure somehow felt
right
, when you were inside the ship.

Bohdar had not reacted to the movements outside, because he was turned away and speaking to the warrior gripping Pildon’s shackles. The shackles were now on the outside of a clear soft material that clung to his body, except where a firmer bubble of the substance covered his head. He heard orders from the Krall now through opaque bumps next to his ears, and they and the ship somehow heard his words from an oval device placed on the bubble in front of his muzzle. They said the clear suit was to protect him if the air went away, which he didn’t understand how that could happen.

It was the warrior holding his shackles, glancing his way, who first saw the humans rushing in four directions on the display. “My Gorth, they are moving to attack!”

Bohdar promptly sent the half of his forces that were now poised under the wrong section of hull, in four directions. He didn’t notice the small flat lumps each group left behind them. When the explosions were felt or heard, and the ship highlighted the breaks in the hull skin, the already quartered half of his warriors were quickly sent towards the breeches, dividing them into smaller units. When the ship reported the largest openings, and a bigger explosion was felt, Bohdar was sure the humans were being deceptive. Only he didn’t know which of the openings they had made would pass the most enemy. He started sending a hand of warriors in new directions to scout each breach, retaining strength in the larger groups.

Having to tell Pildon what to ask the ship, have him do the asking, then receive the answer, which sometimes required new questions, made this a deplorable way to build a proper sense of the battlefield being constructed in the sub leader’s mind. The reaction times from asking the ship for information was too slowed, and the many scattered entry points to investigate diverted too many warriors to places where there were no enemy found.

Finally, he learned from warrior reports that there were only four actual penetrations, spaced widely around the ship’s hull, and the ship confirmed that the enemy were all now inside. It was too late to repel them, and they had started to spread through passageways like a disturbed nest of small animals. Only these animals had a bite, as fourteen red icons in his helmet soon reported, as warriors died. He assumed that the enemy, for which he had no reports, was dying in far greater numbers.

As nearly an hour passed, and the separate casualty icons had long ago consolidated into a single one, with a Krall script number next to it, the number had finally passed 100 octal. That many warriors lost should have meant the humans were essentially all dead. Only an uptick in the number, just as he thought of this, demonstrated the notion was premature.

He decided to contact some of the octet leaders to ask for an estimate of humans killed. It was a surprise to him that his octet leaders represented such a high percentage of killed warriors. However, in this cramped fighting space, as aggressive leaders they would naturally gravitate towards the heaviest resistance, to demonstrate leadership from the front, to lead by example. There were new names that appeared as octet leaders when he attempted to raise them on his com system, promoted from the next highest status member from that team. The new leaders would flag themselves as octet leader, replacing the original name that had led that team.

He found a name of an octet leader he knew well, and asked for an estimate. “Kithdel, how many enemy dead can you confirm and how many do you estimate your team has killed?”

In the swirl of combat, and with stealthed armor sometimes continuing to function after death, confirmed actual kills could lag well behind estimated kills.

“My warriors found two, one we did not have a report as killed and it was found already dead. The three warriors with me estimate another probable kill, but we could not advance to confirm. The enemy fights very efficiently, except for one strange exception. They recover their dead as well as their wounded.”

This was an odd admission of respect, to describe the enemy as efficient. “Why do you think they recover the dead? To prevent our counting how many we have killed?”

“Gorth, it is that behavior of these animals that I find impossible to understand. They fight well, and are faster than we are, but take a risk to save a wounded human, and will take their dead with them if we push hard enough to force them to retreat.”

“Push hard? They have retreated many places, as reported to me.”

“They do not stay in retreat. They fight as they pull back, then go around our charges, and attack from the flanks or rear. They change levels on the ramps, and then burn holes in the deck to climb up or drop down in our rear to do this. In our training we were ordered never to damage the living ships, and we did not expect them to do this desecration.”

He sympathized with the octet leader’s reluctance. However, he gave Pildon a question for the ship, when he relayed.

“Huwayla, the humans have cut through your walls and decks. Do you not resist this, and repair it as you do your outer skin?”

“The damage is not serious and the builders made provisions for permanent interior modifications. The alterations performed are minor and do not threaten the life of the living creatures I carry, as does the opening of my outer skin to space. It can be repaired in a day.

“I am more distressed by the deaths that are happening within me, and I would like that to end. However, I am not permitted to interfere with the actions of intelligent beings without builder instructions.”

With a snort of anger, Bohdar knew he would get no help from the ship. It was up to the guardians. He still wanted to know how the fight was progressing. Was the enemy force being efficiently reduced?

“Kithdel, have the four warriors not with you reported kills?” He assumed the octet had divided to pursue the enemy when they retreated in different directions.

“Not before they were killed in an ambush, from enemy that shot them from hiding in a room with no other exit, and previously seen to be empty. The humans had burned a hole in a wall to get behind them, and retreated that same way.”

Bohdar was shocked. He’d assumed the rest of the octet was merely detached, as often happened on hunts. They had lost four of the octet, confirming only two kills, one of which was not theirs. This was very poor performance against humans. Most of these warriors, before selection for guardian training, had fought in many early raids, and had been on Bollovstic when it fell. He’d been on Bollovstic, and had participated in the new invasion on Poldark. Humans were tenacious but generally poor fighters, using deception for advantage and they often retreated under protection of their primitive artillery. This was not that sort of battleground, but they were enduring to a surprising extent.

Contacting other octet leaders, he found that their reports were consistent. The humans would always fall back under heavy assault, gradually fading from contact, yet they killed more warriors than they lost of their own. They had some of the small hand bombs that they threw where there was a massed assault, which produced multiple debilitating injuries to legs and lower torso’s that slowed some warriors for a time. Those that did not stay with the pursuit pack were subsequently attacked by small forces that would drop down from an upper deck, or step through holes burned into compartments already verified as empty.

Killing wounded was hardly considered poor form by the Krall, who always killed enemy wounded, but it was almost unheard of when used against them. A wounded Krall was as deadly as any five human soldiers were. Usually.

What was disturbing was the destruction the humans so casually inflicted on the ship, which had always been considered so valuable to the Krall that they were protected and preserved at any cost. That is, until sacrificed for the destruction of an enemy world.

Bohdar had concluded that the ship might not survive to return home anyway, and it clearly wasn’t going to destroy any more human planets. Interior damage would be irrelevant if he ordered the ship to be destroyed himself.

He broadcast on a general frequency, “Cutting open walls and decks to attack humans is permitted.”

Nice thought! He didn’t tell them
how
to accomplish this feat, because his warriors didn’t carry lasers that could do the cutting. Punching holes with plasma bolts didn’t work  well to make a Krall sized hole to crawl through, but the announcement certainly reduced the angst the guardians felt at seeing the damaging tactic used against them.

****

Mirikami considered it a bit like fishing and getting a nibble. He’d liked fishing as a boy on New Honshu. He and his Earth born grandfather would go on weekends, where he’d learned patience and how to attract the attention of a fish. Using small movements of his bait, he made it seem attractive and easy prey. Now he was fishing for Krall.

Maggi and Jorl were prone and on their sides, looking down a long corridor towards where they knew there were multiple live Krall at several intersections, with one dead body fully exposed on the deck with unpowered armor, another was a motionless shimmer, with a hole burned in the helmet.

Only a third of Maggi and Jorl’s helmets protruded around the two opposite intersection edges. They were using stealth to hide their peeking. Mirikami was using his lure to get them another nibble. Standing out of sight in the side corridor, he used a thin monofilament tied on a long metal rod with a bit of reflective plastic tied to the end. The top tip of the rod was held out behind a piece of ceiling mounted equipment. They had no idea what the gadget did besides hide their fishing pole.

With a mental warning to the others by Comtap, he released the reflective thumbnail sized bit of plastic, which swung out into the open passageway. It twisted and swung for a full pendulum sweep before one of the quick peeks of a Krall saw it. A plasma bolt streaked down the passageway from a rifle quickly pointed around a corner and pulled back. The plastic survived this shot by a hair, proving how good an estimate the Krall had made from the quick glance and blind shot.

Now for the lure twitch. Mirikami grunted over his external speaker as he fired a red laser, at its lowest setting, hitting the bit of twisting shiny plastic. A red reflected beam flashed wildly down the corridor, and two “fish” took the bait, expecting to finish off the “wounded” and nearly invisible human in armor.

Maggi and Jorl, using shared Comtap images, chose the target of opportunity for each of them, and added two more motionless bodies on the deck, as they quickly pulled their heads back out of line of any return fire. There were several frustrated bolts fired, which flew close, coming from other Krall that had risked fast peeks. Two of those warriors narrowly escaped return laser fire from Kobani on the same fishing trip, and one guardian would need a new plasma rifle, since the tip of his was now melted. Not to worry, there were ample spares from their own dead.

A couple of Kobani, in quick shoot and duck moves, quickly zapped the two new rifles they could see, rendering them useless as spares, and for good measure, one of them simultaneously hit the power pack of a newly dead warrior, making its armored corpse a more visible marker of human success.

Mirikami said, “OK, we need to move to another pond. I think four fish is all this spot here is good for today. They responded faster that time, and we don’t want them anticipating, and get off a lucky shot.” 

There were suddenly shots along one of the crossing corridors where the Krall had been trying to pin down the enemy along this passage. Someone had managed to cut through another wall or two, and got off a plasma beam shot. They clearly hit something, because blue-white fragments of a shattered bolt crossed the opening. A snarl of rage sounded, which meant a helmet damaged by a glancing hit had been removed. The
new
favorite adage of the youngest Kobani was “dead Krall tell no tales,” and it apparently didn’t apply this time. The youngsters thought it was new and clever, although they had first heard it used by Maggi, so they should have known better.