Shades of Gray (94 page)

“Yours could do with trimming, too, Rezac,” said Schiya.

A distant look crossed Kusac’s face as he sent to Carrie. “Carrie’s fetching them for us,” he said, relaxing. “She also says she sees a transport coming with second meal for us.”

Kaid raised an eye ridge. “They are looking after us remarkably well,” he murmured.

“Considering what we’re doing for them . . .” began Schiya.

“No,” said Kusac. “We’re doing this for Zhalmo and to stop the war, they know that. This is a courtesy on their part. They owe us nothing, remember that.”

“Yes, Captain,” she said, accepting the reprimand.

THEY were in place well before dawn, waiting for the automated signal from the weather station that would let them know the M’zullian ship had reached the inner system. Rezac was leading his unarmored team of four posing as villagers for loading the cargo. He and his people wore rough Ch’almuthian clothes over their uniforms and had altered their appearances to make them look older so they wouldn’t attract the guards’ interest as potential breeding stock. Kusac and his team were wearing the lightweight chameleon armor that the Touibans had come up with for them. The remaining ten were in full battle armor.

The signal finally came in through Kaid’s headset. “They’ve emerged from jump space,” he said quietly over the comm sets they all wore. “And they’re sending a message to the village, demanding the tithe. We’ve got about thirty minutes, so settle down everyone. Radio silence until I say otherwise.”

The armored members were in the center of the crates arranged to one side of the warehouse, so they had a view through the open warehouse doors. Near the entrance, but out of sight of it, the crates of produce had been stacked, ready to be loaded.

The village transporter arrived first so that Rezac’s people could join their number. M’zayash and Szayakk stood with the small group of eight youths who were to be the tithe. They looked suitably terrified, huddled together, clutching each other. As ordered, they each carried a cloth bundle containing extra clothing and a few personal effects. This would be where Kusac’s people would conceal their helmets when they landed on M’zull.

They heard the distant boom as the ship broke the sound barrier, then the gradually increasing whine of the engines as it approached. Those among the crates finally saw it come slowly into view as it landed.

Gradually the engine noise decreased, settling into an idle. Metal grated on metal as the doors opened and the cargo ramp began to lower.

Kaid was monitoring the radio frequencies for the one the M’zullians were using, and when he found it, he raised his hand, sending mentally to those who could receive, which channel they were using.

The word was quietly passed to the nontelepaths, and they all adjusted their headsets.

“Eight outside in armor,” said Kaid.

“Copy,” said Kusac.

I can only sense their positions, too much electrical interference,
sent Carrie.
One gunner has forward missiles trained on us. Flight crew of three remaining on deck. Turret not manned. Twelve in all.

“Copy that,” said Kaid.

M’zayash and Szayakk remained where they were, visible in the warehouse doorway with their charges, waiting to be summoned. They could all hear the heavy tread of armored feet coming down the ramp.

Our armor matches theirs,
sent Rezac, sending the image of eight battle-clad soldiers fanning out facing the warehouse doorway.

“Bring the captives,” ordered the one in charge, gesturing to M’zayash.

Delay them a little, M’zayash,
sent Kaid.
Get your people to scream and refuse to go.

On cue, several of the young females began to sob loudly and cling to M’zayash.

The Elder made soothing noises, patting their backs while Szayakk spoke firmly to them, ordering them to go with the soldiers for the good of their families.

“Stop their wailing,” said the soldier, gesturing at them with his gun. “I want them on board now!”

Go now,
sent Kaid.
I wanted the soldiers on edge.

M’zayash and Szayakk spoke firmly to the small group and began shepherding them out onto the landing area. The five females were still openly sobbing and clutching each other, while the three young males looked suitably sullen.

“Where’re the rest of the youngsters?” demanded the soldier who was obviously in charge as four of his comrades roughly rounded the youths up and led them into the ship.

“We had early summer fires—homes and crops were threatened, everyone helped. We lost several . . .”

“Then we’ll want double the food and goods this time to make up the lack,” said the officer, cutting her short.

“Double? We can’t afford double,” wailed M’zayash, wringing her hands. “Our people will go hungry and naked!”

The leader laughed. “What do we care? Punishment for missing the last tithe.”

“Your ship never came!”

“Not your concern. Just get your folk to fetch the loading sleds out of the cargo hold now!” he said, pointing his rifle at her.

Rezac trotted out with the other nine, joining the five locals going around to the rear of the craft, getting his first good look at it, which he sent back to the others. It was a strictly utilitarian design, being basically wedge shaped with outthrust wings. A triple dorsal turret sat on top, an offensive plasma cannon with a standard sandcaster on either side of it. Missile launchers on either side of the hull augmented this.

Thug ship,
sent Carrie.
Like the last one.

Aye,
Rezac laughed.
No finesse.

Our show, then. Carrie, stay here as we agreed, please. We’ll neutralize the Bridge crew first
, sent Kusac, putting on his helmet and gesturing to his team to get ready.
We need a diversion.

Accident with the crates?
Kaid sent to Rezac as the other disappeared from sight.

Yeah, most likely scenario,
he replied, passing the command on to the others of his team in the warehouse, waiting for them to return.

“If the suits are controlled from the ship,” said Kaid, “you have that virus the Touibans gave us.”

“Cheelar can see to that,” said Kusac.

A few minutes later, Rezac and the others reappeared around the side of the craft towing three antigrav cargo loaders and headed for the warehouse, followed by the four soldiers who had taken the youths inside.

“Power the suits and move to the exit from here,” said Kusac on their team channel, as he hit the control inside his helmet with his tongue. His HUD sprang to life, giving him the positions of all his team and those of the M’zullian soldiers as he led them to the small corridor out of the crates.

Rezac and his partner worked slowly, still loading when the other two units had left.

“Get a move on!” yelled the leader, moving closer to the warehouse and watching them. “I want to be off this mudball before nightfall!”

“Yessir!” shouted his companion, putting on a spurt of speed while Rezac managed to look up and stumble into him. Back they both staggered into the pile of crates, knocking them over in every direction. If some tumbled a little too close to the central pile, no one noticed.

Rezac let out a piercing yell and managed to fall away from the doorway with a crate partially on top of him.

“Go see what those clumsy louts have done to the cargo,” ordered the leader, gesturing to two of the other soldiers.

“Yes, Lieutenant.”

“You imbecile!” hissed one soldier, aiming a kick at Rezac. “I hope you haven’t damaged the cargo! Get it off him,” he ordered the other loaders as he backed away from Rezac and the crate apparently pinning him to the ground.

As those inside the protective ring of crates watched, all the other soldiers moved closer to see what was happening.

Kaid turned around to tell Kusac to head out only to find he and his team were already gone. He looked out the gap between the crates and was barely able to see the faint flicker that was them heading at a lope across the landing strip behind the soldiers to the rear of the ship.

Freed, and dodging a kick from the armored foot, Rezac scuttled back to the loader and began helping them to finish loading.

 

Kusac led his team silently into the almost empty cargo hold. They hugged the sides, darting behind the few cargo crates there while Kusac once again checked where the rest of the crew were.

He spared a moment to look around the hold, making sure it was big enough to take the MUTAC. There was plenty of space; height might be a problem—it looked high enough, but it would be tight.

Waving them on, he headed for the ship’s air lock, which the soldiers had left open. Immediately on their left was a locked door. On their right, the hum of the engines.

The prisoners,
sent Kusac, gesturing to his left.
We’ll get them later, when we’re done.

The air lock ahead was closed, but the corridor beyond it was clear. Motioning J’korrash to open it, he and the rest plastered themselves against the corridor wall.

It slid back silently, opening onto an empty and low-lit corridor that stretched straight ahead to a T-junction. Kusac scented a faint odor of laalquoi in the air.

“Breathers on,” he said, switching on his own.

Like shadows, they slipped past the doors set into the walls on either side, stopping before each of the other two junctions while Kusac checked that the way was clear. At last they reached the T-junction.

There was a doorway to their left and another on the right along the T.

He pointed to their right, signaling to them to keep radio silence. From where they stood, they could see the air lock that led to the Bridge.

With hand signals, he ordered J’korrash to ready a gas grenade as he removed a stun grenade from the pouch at his waist. Back against the wall, he loosened the throwing knives strapped across his chest, waiting for her to take up position on the other side of the air lock. Thumbing the control, he opened the ’lock and threw in the stun grenade.

Even with his head turned away, he could still see the flare of light. J’korrash threw her grenade in as the flare died down.

He gave it a count of three, then, pulling two knives, charged in. His first knife found the chest of the comms operator as he jumped to his feet, eyes streaming. The next landed in the throat of the Captain.

Behind him, J’korrash’s knife flashed past to the gunner, while Cheelar leaped across the room to get the remaining crewmember. The sharp crack as the Prime commando broke the male’s neck was audible in the now silent Bridge.

The gunner had rushed at J’korrash and taken the knife in the shoulder instead of the throat. As he grappled with her, Zsaya, their Ch’almuthian recruit, ran forward and sank her knife deep into the side of his neck. He stiffened, blood suddenly gushing out of his mouth, then fell to the deck, dead.

“Thanks,” said J’korrash, kicking the body and retrieving her knife.

“Well done,” said Kusac, nodding at Zsaya as he retrieved his own knives, wiping them off on their uniforms before slipping them back into his harness. Of the few Ch’almuthian recruits they’d had, she was the most promising. Right now she was closing the air lock door and taking up a post there as arranged.

Now they had the leisure to look around the Bridge, they could see eight lit screens among a bank of sixteen, each showing the view from a soldier’s helmet cam.

He stilled his mind, doing another sweep of the ship, finding only the minds of the eight captives.

“Clear,” he said to his team. “Power down the chameleon effect but keep the breathers on till your gauge shows the air clear. Cheelar, the com is all yours.”

“Aye, sir,” the youth said, pulling the dead body of the Captain out of his chair, then sitting down in it. Taking off his gloves, he began checking the system and uploading the virus from the data crystal the Touibans had given them.

Ship’s clear,
Kusac sent to Kaid.
Suits have cam feed to the Bridge. Cheelar checking if the Bridge comm controls them.

Good work,
sent Kaid.
Keep us posted.

It took him a few minutes, during which time the air cleared, and they were able to turn off the breathers and breathe the ship air. The smell of laalquoi was absent from the Bridge, he noticed.

“They really don’t trust each other, do they?” muttered Cheelar. “Got it. Yes, the Captain can control them from here.”

“I assume it’s in case of a mutiny,” said Kusac, taking one of the freed command seats himself.

“Uploading the virus now,” Cheelar said. “This should only take a couple of minutes. They’ll query the Bridge. What should I do?”

“Send a static filled message saying you are experiencing problems,” said Kusac.

“How do I do that?”

Leaning forward, Kusac put his hand on the Captain’s control panel. “I’ll create it when you need it,” he said.

“Alpha One to Command. My suit’s acting up again. Please stabilize the environmental controls.”

Kusac nodded when Cheelar looked over to him.

“Command to Alpha One. You’re breaking up. I have problems of my own here, deal with it.” The youth’s voice was transmitted with a large amount of background hissing and crackling.

They heard muttered cursing from the soldier; then he fell silent.

“Alpha Three. Command, my suit’s medicating me!” There was a note of panic in the soldier’s voice.

“Stop panicking, Alpha Three! The computer has a glitch right now. I can do nothing,” said Cheelar.

“Turn off the suits’ override then,” hissed the first soldier.

“Negative, Alpha One. You know the regulations. It will be solved shortly, we’re working on it.”