Peace Warrior (18 page)

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Brun’s arrival a full day ahead of his announced schedule was an unpleasant interruption. Zal chafed at being bothered now, when the human situation was not yet under control. The attack on the human prison was just getting underway. Worse than the interruption it caused, the early arrival revealed how little faith his superiors had in his abilities.

Zal struggled to restrain his anger as he rushed to the launch area. Other than the scheduled flights to ferry troops on and off Earth once every four months, the launch area was never used. The reliance on human vehicles for on world transportation left this part of the ship vacant most of the time. This was good. It meant none of the few remaining troops should be in the area. He needed to intercept Brun before he had a chance to talk with any of the crew. He did not want Brun’s spies spreading false rumors or planting seeds of doubt. But mostly, he wanted to deliver the news of the humans' pending defeat personally.

He nearly collided with Brun as he turned into the final corridor leading to the launch area. Brun was accompanied by three soldiers and all were well armed. Zal took notice of this with some discomfort and wondered briefly if they were there to apprehend him. If so, he would not go willingly.

"General Brun, I am honored by your visit." Zal wanted desperately to ask his superior why he had chosen to arrive early but suppressed the urge. It would be unwise to question the actions of his commander, even though Zal considered him a bumbling fool.

"Yes, Zal, yes." Never one to avoid a subject, Brun got right to the point of why he had returned to Earth.

"How is the problem coming? Have we taken care of our unruly flock?"

Zal rankled at the 'we' part of Brun's question. The leathered bastard had done nothing to take care of the rebellious slaves and the insinuation that he could take any credit for what would certainly be accomplished chafed. He allowed none of his displeasure to show however and answered.

"Yes, Commander. The sheep are being sheared as we speak. Lieutenant Treel has been dispatched to exterminate the rebellious few."

Brun tipped his head and looked carefully at Zal. "Tell me, Zal. What is happening?"

"In summation, Commander, I learned that the humans were sowing their seeds of rebellion from inside their human prison. The prison where they send those who actually show some courage." Although still rankled by Brun's recent attempt to accept undue credit for his successes, Zal gave no second thought to taking credit for Treel's accomplishment of identifying Violent's Prison as the haven of human rebellion.

"Our combat forces departed not three hours ago to destroy the human slaves located there."

"The human prison? Surely the trouble makers cannot be located there, Zal. If these humans are good at anything, it is locking away those few who might dare to stand up against us. Are you certain of your information?"

"Positive, Commander. One of their own came forward with the information. He said he only wanted peace returned to his race." The word 'peace' passed from Zal's mouth like a piece of rotten carcass. His distaste for the foreign concept was clear.

"You idiot, how long have you been here on Earth?" Brun's voice took the tone of an angry stepmother scolding a much-hated child. Zal flinched slightly at the reproach, unsure of his mistake but sure of his need to answer his superior at once.

"Only a few months... you trained me, Commander.”

"I know that, you fool! Did you learn nothing?" Brun raged at the Minith Minister of Earth and the three guards standing behind him looked at each other in confusion. None of the three was more confused than Zal, though and he said as much.

"Zal, humans are sent to the prison for life! Once inside, they remain there until they die. The only ones who ever leave there are those that we take for our slaves on this ship!"

"I still don't see--"

"Are you truly stupid?" Brun stepped close to Zal, their faces separated by inches. "How can these prisoners attack us if they are incarcerated? That could not happen unless..." Brun ceased his ranting as quickly as he had begun. "Have you questioned the human Leadership Council?"

"No, commander," Zal offered. His thoughts went to the recent raid upon their chambers. "But we have paid them a visit. They were warned against any rebellion! They could not have condoned the actions that have been taken against us."

Now it was Zal who fell back into an explanation of how their human slaves behaved. "They are sworn to uphold the concepts of 'Peace.' Never have they gone against their beliefs in this area. To do so would mean that they support the rebellion, encourage it even."

"Yes," Brun answered, thinking. "It would. Perhaps we were wrong to allow this human council a free hand. We have always stayed out of their activities as long as the quotas were met. Perhaps they have finally become tired of the slave's life."

Zal heard his commander's words and recognized them as being his own wish. He did not say that, however.

"Is this possible?"

"It is unlikely. These humans have proven themselves to be weak. Unwilling, unable even, to fight against us. You saw it yourself at the human farm when you first arrived.” Zal recalled how Brun killed the human family while the father refused to act.

“But one thing is certain," Brun vowed to his subordinate. "We will not permit a successful rebellion. This planet will be destroyed first."

"Of course, Brun. But that should not be necessary. When we have destroyed the human prison, we will visit the human leaders again. They will know the price that must be paid for standing against their masters."

"You should hope so, Zal. As Minister of this planet, it will be your responsibility to accomplish its destruction. Personally."

Zal understood what would be expected of him and immediately dismissed the possibility.

* * *

Treel ordered all nine teams to proceed. The darkness inside the stone building was complete and his troops advanced slowly, carefully. All ears were tuned for the slightest noise in the eerie blackness, but they heard little. An occasional thump or shuffle, but nothing that would indicate the presence of the humans for which they searched.

Treel had studied maps of the human prison and knew its layout well. All nine teams were inside the stone building of the Second Square. They had crossed through the inner, First Square building and the open area between it and the second building in under ten minutes.

So far, they had seen none of the slaves and Treel suspected the humans had been alerted to their presence and had retreated to the fifth, outermost square. He liked the thought of the humans retreating before them and felt the faint stirrings of pleasure that came to him with each battle. The humans were not fighters but their blood smelled just as sweet as any other animal's. Many Minith warriors were driven in battle by the cries of their prey; some enjoyed the fear of their opponents. But for Treel, there was no greater pleasure on any world he had ever visited – and there were many – like the smell of fresh blood.

The darkness gave way to light as Treel and the three teams he now led reached the East-facing doorway that led into the open space between the Second and Third Square buildings. The other six teams were divided into groups of two teams each, with each group assigned to take either the North-, South- or West-facing doorways. Treel ordered his soldiers to wait inside the doorway while he contacted the other three groups.

When he received news that all were in place, he considered the next move. He still felt that the slaves were cowering in the further areas of the prison but he could not ignore the possibility that he was being led into a trap. Their force was divided and the further they entered the prison, the more separated they would become. Already it would be difficult to reach any of the other groups if they were attacked.

"Treel, why are we waiting?" Lieutenant Groft, another of the team leaders expressed his impatience. Treel considered reprimanding Groft for his impertinence but realized that the other lieutenant was speaking for the group. A quick glance at the leathered faces around him showed Treel that they were all anxious for the killing to begin.

Treel took a breath and conceded that he was being overly cautious – not a good trait for a Minith leader who wanted to remain a leader. Groft would no doubt enjoy taking over should Treel show bad judgment and, as a lieutenant also, would be well within his bounds to do so. All it would take was for a majority of the soldiers to agree that the move was necessary to accomplish their mission. Treel did not plan to allow that to happen.

He reached for the radio.

"Forces, forward," he ordered.

* * *

Titan looked down on the Minith soldiers with mixed feelings of excitement and anger. The excitement came from knowing that, in just a few seconds, the foul beings below him would meet up with the wrong end of human vengeance.

The anger was more complex. He hated the aliens with every fiber of his being. These aliens had enslaved his world and his race. They controlled the world with threats of death, and demanded that its population labor to meet their quotas for resources and wealth. Resources that they stole and sent to another planet. But it was more than just the slavery. It was the needless killing of a race not able to defend itself that most angered Titan. They killed for sport. They killed out of boredom. They killed to send a message: do what we want or more of you will be killed. Yes, his anger was justified and so was the violence that would soon follow.

From a very young age, Titan knew he was different from those around him. Unlike most of his race, he did not abhor violence. He did not turn away from intentional slights or blatant injustices just for the purpose of Peace. When he saw a wrong, he wanted to right it. If that meant someone needed to get hurt, so be it. As a young child, there were few children his age in the sub-farm where his family worked. As a result, he often tagged along behind his brother, Stefan, and Stefan’s group of six or seven friends when he could. He never played their games or joined their conversations; the five years that separated them made him a barely tolerated irritant to the older boys. But he did not need to actively participate in their activities; he was content to just be around Stefan.

He was five when one of his bother’s friends, an eleven year old named Jerald, started complaining to Stefan.

“He’s always hanging around Stefan. How are we going to have any fun with your baby brother hanging around?”

At first, Stefan just shook his head and ignored Jerald. But as the weeks went by, and Jerald’s complaints increased, others in the group began parroting Jerald’s demands. Eventually, Stefan had no choice. He gave in to the pressure from the group and told Titan to stop following them. Even at his young age, Titan understood. And he complied.

It was a week after being told to keep his distance when he came across the group of boys, playing in one of the apple orchards that were part of their sub-farm. Titan had no idea his brother’s group was going to be there. He had just wanted an apple. He entered the orchard, plucked an apple from the closest tree and was turning to leave when Jerald stepped in front of him.

“I thought you weren’t going to follow us any more?”

Titan looked up at Jerald, unsure of what to say. He hadn’t been following them, he just wanted an apple. He looked to Stefan for assistance, but his brother stood off to one side, looking at the ground.

“Well? What are you doing here?”

“Just wanted an apple.”

“Well, these are our apples and you can’t have any.” Jerald snatched the apple from the younger boy’s hand. Wiped it on his shirt and took a bite.

Stefan’s explanation to their parents that evening described the scene accurately. Jerald’s bloody nose and two black eyes were a result of his younger brother standing up for himself. The circumstances, however, did not mitigate the consequences. Titan was subjected to psychological re-training for the first time. It wasn’t the last.

Titan had performed well in the beat or be beaten environment that existed within these squares of stone. Despite the rumors to the contrary, he wasn’t a monster. He didn’t start out looking to mete out violence. He just believed that violence was sometimes necessary and he was not averse to using it.

He viewed this situation in the same light. These alien monsters had his world in chains and he had been called upon to do away with them. The monsters thirty feet below him certainly deserved whatever punishment they received.
And they will receive a lot
, Titan thought as the aliens neared the center of the open area between the Second and Third Square buildings.

The trap had been set up exactly as planned by Grant. When the Minith landed inside the Inner Square, Titan and his soldiers had ascended to the tops of the four inner squares and remained still. The plan called for the men and women of the prison to wait quietly for the alien force to move between the Second and Third Squares and then attack. Unlike the aliens below, Titan had a clear view of all of his own forces. From the top of the Second Square, he could see the tops of the other squares as well as the people stationed on them. The attack would be concentrated between the square he occupied and the third, but reserves had been placed on the First and Fourth Squares in case some of the aliens below escaped the initial trap and tried to escape.

Grant had used the phrase 'like shooting fish in a barrel' but Titan had not understood what he had meant. Now, as the aliens made their way across the clearing, Titan understood clearly. The Minith soldiers, although well trained and heavily armed, had little hope. There was no cover for them to take once the battle began.

Titan held up a hand, the signal to get ready, to the men and women on his right and left. He looked across the open space to the top of the Third Square to make sure the soldiers stationed there saw him also. He hoped no one would jump the signal because of nerves, the alien soldiers needed to reach the center of the open space for the trap to be fully effective. Titan held his breath and waited with his hand still held high.