Spirit of Empire 4: Sky Knights (54 page)

Josh’s gaze moved to the shuttle, then back to Galborae. He nodded grimly in agreement.

Galborae stared at him. “Whatever we do, we have to make certain this creature never leaves this world. Our lives and the lives of the survivors here are insignificant compared to what will happen if we fail.”

Galborae was almost done talking. He turned to Lebac. “Tell the pilots to seal off the upper deck and to suit-up. We will open the shuttle to space when I’m certain the creature is dead.”

Lebac stared at him, then shook his head. “I’ll get some men and come with you.”

Galborae turned to Josh. “I don’t know how much he knows about the Leaf People, but I am the only one going into that ship.”

Josh agreed. “Colonel, get the wounded out of that shuttle. If Galborae fails, we’ll destroy the shuttle. Your job, and mine, is done here. We’re going out the other exit.”

Lebac started to object, but at the stare Josh sent his way, he understood that this was an order from a Knight.

Josh turned to Claire. “Tell your mother to open the doors. We’ll load the wounded on the hauler, and we’ll ride with them. You’re driving.”

Six scooters hovered over them while they loaded. When everyone was through the door, Nbara closed and locked the door behind them and climbed aboard the hauler.

“Hold on tight!” Claire yelled, then took off at breakneck speed through the facility.

When they reached the far exit, shuttles, scooters, and marines on the ground were engaged in a major battle against mulogs. The last of Nbara’s people were just going aboard the cruiser through a wide cargo door. Claire drove right up to the door and jumped out. Floaters came out for the wounded, the marines executed a standard withdrawal, and everyone boarded the cruiser. The door closed and the cruiser lifted for orbit, hopefully done with this world forever.

Galborae, with Limam by his side, stood at the bottom of the ramp and looked up into the shuttle. Bright lights lit its interior, and he could see all the way to the other end of the lower deck. Scooters hung from the wall on his right and two stingers, small tanks, were attached to the right side of the deck about half way down. Marines’ seats and supply lockers lined the left wall, and a clear isle wide enough for two marines standing shoulder to shoulder ran unobstructed the full length. He had spent many hours aboard shuttles and was familiar with every nook and cranny.

Peicks had been constructed to fight, and they appeared to be good at it—after all, they had shot down Havlock’s shuttle the day before, something Galborae had not known was even possible. In fact, he had been told repeatedly that he could never fall from a shuttle, so they must be good fighters. He had no idea what the capabilities were of super peicks, but he strongly suspected they would be even better planners and fighters.

He spoke mentally to his Rider.
>Hormuth, I can’t do this on my own. You came from Otis’ Rider. I need to be Otis. I need his skills.<

>I can’t make you into a Great Cat, but I know how Otis looks and listens and smells. So does Limam. All together we’re three against one. We can do this.<

Galborae suddenly felt hyper-alert, a feeling he would not want to have every day, but on this particular day he appreciated the boost to his senses. He sent Limam ahead, but only a couple of paces ahead. They had been a team for many years, and she understood what he needed from her. She slunk ahead carefully with every sense at its peak. She wanted to free herself from the confines of her body armor, but Galborae sent her a strong “No.”

Galborae reached the top of the ramp and called the pilots, suspecting that anything he said would be overheard by the super peick. “I’m aboard. Close the ramp and head for orbit.”

“The cruiser is just lifting. We can go aboard as soon as we reach orbit.”

Galborae, his focus primarily on what lay before him, had no time for the pilots, and he was brief. “No. Do not go aboard. Prepare a suit for me and Limam. Ask no questions.”

These marines were from Tranxte, and they knew and respected Galborae. There was no need for him to repeat his message.

He removed the communicator from his ear and turned it off, then stuck it in a pocket—there would be no room for distractions until he was done. His right hand held his sword, though it was not activated, and in short order his left hand held his blaster. He was as ready as he could be.

Limam slunk along silently, and he stepped softly behind her, rolling from his toes to his heal with each step, then back up onto his toes for the next step. He felt the shuttle lift, though the sensation was not strong. Air noises outside the shuttle filtered in, reducing the effectiveness of his and Limam’s sense of hearing, but there was nothing he could do about that.

He reached the first scooter and lifted the short, black blade of his sword, sweeping it along the scooter. The blade did not contact anything. He repeated the process as he moved forward, though his eyes kept shifting to his left toward the equipment lockers above each seat. He doubted if a super peick would fit inside one of them, but he could not be certain.

He reached the first stinger and stepped in front of it to check between it and the wall when Limam sent him a thought. “High?” he felt from her, though he felt her uncertainty as well. He neither saw or heard anything, but he trusted her.

The creature he sought was a soldier, possibly a super soldier. Its mission was to get off the planet. To do that, it had to avoid discovery—discovery would mean mission failure. It would hide somewhere it would not be noticed when the squad returned, then sneak aboard the cruiser once the shuttle entered the hangar bay.The best hiding place in the shuttle would be high, not in an equipment locker and not where one of the marines would stumble into it. That left the two corners above the aft ramp. Which was it?

Galborae could fire blindly, but if the super peick carried a blaster, his firing toward the wrong corner would give it an edge, even if it was just a momentary edge. His gaze crossed a scooter, then stopped and returned to the scooter.

>What do you think?<
he asked his Rider.

>I believe Otis would approve,<
he heard back.

He didn’t hesitate. He unhooked two scooters from the wall, lined them up one on each side of the ceiling, then touched the controls to start them inching forward.

He sent a command to Limam to hide, then he lowered himself to a crouch, using the stinger beside himself as cover. Limam moved into cover between the two stingers.

The scooters neared the corners. Anything hiding there should have moved, and even if the super peick was able to camouflage itself really well, it would not likely be perfect. He should be seeing some kind of movement.

A sudden sense of alarm struck Galborae—he had forgotten the corners behind him, the corners above the ramp where he had entered. He spun around and fired repeatedly into alternating corners. He heard a screech as something dropped to the deck, then multiple, bloody wounds quickly showed him where the creature was. He kept firing. It sprang forward, but he aimed for where a head would be and fired. The creature dropped.

His ears were still ringing from the firing and he could not hear, but he caught fleeting motion as something else fell from the ceiling. A moment later, it was on him. A shape shimmered, then a heavy weight knocked him to the deck. He felt a hot breath on his face and imagined sharp teeth preparing to rip into him. He activated his sword and swung it up, feeling no resistance, and blood gushed over him as he rent the creature in two.

Limam was on it in a moment, but the thing was dead and she stepped away spitting blood from her mouth. Galborae picked himself up off the floor, blinking hard. What had just happened? He had come in after one super peick, but here was a second.

The truth struck him like a blow. He spun around looking for more of the creatures just as Limam sent to him, “More.” Her thoughts were not clear, as if she could not actually locate the creatures even though she knew they were here.

His Rider spoke to him. >Otis would say they are soldiers—actually leaders of soldiers—and their mission has not yet failed. As long as they remain in hiding, their mission might yet succeed. Let them think you believe them all dead.<

Galborae liked the logic, though with his heart pounding so hard in his chest, it was difficult to deactivate the sword. Nevertheless, he did so, though he kept it and the blaster in his hands.

“Find, but do not flush,” he sent to Limam.

She padded warily toward the far end of the shuttle where the two scooters were pressed noses first against the upper corners. She reached the end, stood there for a bit sniffing and looking, then she turned and started back toward him. As she passed the first stinger, she sent an alarm but kept on padding toward him. She sent the same alarm as she passed the second stinger, then she was back with him.

He squatted down, took her head in both hands and kissed her, then he released her. She licked at his face once, then turned back toward the shuttle’s isle and the two stingers.

Galborae did not look directly at the stingers, but his mind reviewed what he knew of them. He had never personally operated a stinger, but he had seen others do so. The driver sat inside a clear bubble on the top of the vehicle directly behind a stubby, heavy blaster. The bubble was hinged on the back, and a motor swung the bubble up to get in or out. The process could be quick, but it was definitely not instantaneous.

He started back along the isle, feeling eyes on him, eyes that had no emotion or caring, only a duty to survive. These creatures would not fight unless they had to, though in truth Galborae knew he could not stand against two of them at once. He was lucky to be alive as it was.

He reached the first stinger and kept walking. He was almost past the second stinger when he suddenly turned, activated his sword, and thrust it down through the bubble. It pierced the bubble without hesitation, something he was not certain it would do. Blood spattered the inside of the bubble, then covered it completely when he slid the tip of the sword up and down and side to side.

Limam snarled as she sent him an alert. He turned to find the bubble of the first stinger swinging up. He aimed his blaster into the widening gap and fired repeatedly, then felt like he had been kicked in the leg by a gorlac. He fell back, but he kept firing. The wounds on the creature helped him to see it, and he kept firing as it leaped out of the stinger and swung a blaster toward him. He rolled behind the first stinger which deflected multiple shots, then it was on him, coming over the stinger and leaping down toward him. Limam flew through the air, knocking it aside. It slashed at her, sending her flying against the wall, but she twisted in mid-air to hit on her feet, then she leaped back to the deck. Her distraction gave Galborae the edge he needed—he swung his sword, and with one swipe he cleaved first one hand, then the head, then the other hand from its body. Its carcass fell heavily onto him.

He struggled out from under it, sending an urgent call to Limam. “More?”

“Searching,” she replied. A little later she sent, “No more.”

Galborae went to her and put his arms around her neck. He held her for a time, then stood up and looked at his leg. The armor was ruined, and from previous experience he knew he would have a nasty, painful bruise, but he could still walk.

He placed his communicator back on his ear and called the bridge. “Sergeant, are you okay up there?”

“We’re okay. How about you? We heard shooting.”

“You had an infestation. It’s gone now. I’m coming up.”

He heard the latches withdraw on the hatch and climbed up to the bridge with Limam right behind him. He sent her a mental command: “Search.”

“What’s your name, Sergeant?” he asked.

“Roskov,” the man answered, staring at Galborae’s bloody armor and the damage to his leg.

“Do you know me?” he asked Roskov.

“Yes, sir. I’m a First, one of the original Twenty. I was Hawke’s copilot when you made your first landing on Tranxte.

“Are we in orbit yet?”

“No, sir. Just a few more minutes.”

“As soon as Limam and I are suited up, I want you to open the ship to space. I can’t be certain I got all the super peicks.”

“Super peicks?”

“I’ll explain later. Just know we’ve discovered something a lot worse than a peick, something that’s as hard to see as a gleason and a lot smarter. Be on your toes. I need to talk with Sir Josh.”

“Yes, sir. Uh, opening up the ship will damage a lot of our stuff.”

“Sergeant, this shuttle will never leave Harac. It’s contaminated. Understood?”

“No, sir . . . uh, yes, sir.”

Galborae put a bubble suit around Limam, donned a suit of his own, then waited until Josh answered. When he did, Galborae was blunt despite knowing super peicks might be listening to every word.

“There were at least four super peicks on the shuttle,” he told Josh. “My best guess is that every ship that opened a door on the surface is infected, including the cruiser. Remember the significance the Leaf People have given to what we’re doing.”

There was a long silence, then Galborae heard, “I remember. Are you telling . . .”

The transmission stopped. Galborae turned to Roskov with a question in his eyes. Roskov checked settings on his communications panel, then asked the pilot, Sergeant Imblee who was in the net, to attempt contacting the cruiser. Every attempt failed.

Galborae’s shoulders slumped. Clearly, something bad had happened on the cruiser. His best guess was that super peicks had taken control.

Had the Leaf Peoples’ fears come true? That cruiser was not a shuttle—it could go anywhere in the galaxy, and super peicks knew how to fly it.

He had no idea how to wrest control back from them, but it had to be done. He looked back at Roskov. “I need to get to the cruiser as soon as possible, but not before you open the ship to space. Can you both leave the net so I can brief you?”

“Why don’t we all go into the net, sir?”

“Because there might be more creatures aboard this shuttle. Do you want to be in the net if they attack us?”

Roskov did not even answer. The ship depressurized, a first for Galborae, though it did not lose its artificial gravity, something Galborae had never even conceived of.

The pilot came out of the net and said, “We’re on a slow approach to the cruiser while we let the vacuum do it’s job.”

Galborae briefed both of them, including what he knew about the Leaf People—their foreknowledge of events and the messages they had sent him. He knew he was divulging Imperial Secrets, but in some cases soldiers made better decisions when they knew the stakes, and this was one of those cases. Galborae had no idea how to pilot a ship—he was completely dependent on them making the right choices. He also gave them his best estimation of what the super peicks were capable of doing. He ended with, “These are not gleasons. They are trained military leaders and are probably responsible for shooting down the shuttle yesterday. Do not underestimate them.”