crunched their way across the rain-soaked gravel. The fact that the shelter had no floor other than what the planet saw fit to provide was consistent with the lack of pomp. IfanaKa spoke Hudathan, but ChienChu’s onboard computer took care of the translation.
“Welcome. Please excuse me if I don’t get up. A Ramanthian war drone shot me more than fifty years ago. The butchers wanted to take the leg off but 1 wouldn’t let them. Now I’m too old for regeneration therapy, too set in my ways for a bionic replacement, and too mean to die. Isn’t that right. War Commander DomaSa?”
“I don’t know about the first two,” the Hudathan replied, “but there’s no doubt about the third.”
ChienChu took note of the military title and assumed the grunting noise equated to laughter. “So,”
IfanaKa asked, “who are you? And what do you want?”
The question was addressed to Admiral Kagan, since he was the only being who looked even slightly human. DomaSa, who was smooth by Hudathan standards, entered the gap. “Grand Marshall IfanaKa, this is Admiral Kagan. He commands the Confederate forces in our sector.”
The contempt on IfanaKa’s face was clear for even a human to see ... and DomaSa hurried to forestall whatever gaffe was in the making. “And this,” the Hudathan said, gesturing toward the hulking T2, “is none other than Sergi ChienChu, past President of the Confederacy, reserve admiral, Governor of Earth, and special envoy to the Hudathan people.”
ChienChu essayed a bow. “I apologize for my appearance. The body 1 normally wear was less than suitable for a visit to your planet.”
IfanaKa pushed himself up out of his chair and staggered forward. NorbaBa rushed to support him.
“ChienChu? The same miserable piece of excrement who fought PoseenKa off the planet Algeron?”
ChienChu tried to swallow but didn’t have anything left to do it with. “Yes, I’m afraid so.”
“It’s an honor to meet you,” IfanaKa said. “I served under the bastard, and he was tough. Very tough. So they sent a soldier to make their case? Smart, damned smart. Maybe there’s hope for humans after all.”
Disappointed by the warmth of ChienChu’s reception, and disgusted by the politician’s conciliatory tone, Kagan stood a little straighten Others could bend... he would refuse. ChienChu experienced a profound sense of relief, and was about to offer some sort of reply, when a disturbance was heard. All five of them turned toward the source of the noise. Captain North was a mess. His hair was matted from the rain, blood smeared his face, and his uniform was covered with mud. He had lost consciousness at some point during the beating and come to on a stretcher. That’s when he rolled off, dodged a slow moving trooper, and ran toward the tent. Maybe there would be someone in authority . .. someone who could . ..
A sentry yelled. North dashed for the tent, and waited for the inevitable bullet. It didn’t come. Not with two members of the Triad just beyond. He burst through the entryway and looked left and right. “My name is North! Captain North. Who’s in charge here? I want a word with them.”
That’s when the legionnaire saw Kagan, their eyes locked, and hatred jumped the gap. “Butcher!”
“Mutineer!”
Kagan went for his sidearm just as a 250pound Hudathan sentry flew through the entrance and hit North from the side. The two of them skidded across the gravel.
Undeterred, the naval officer raised his weapon, and was about to fire, when an ominous whine was heard. ChienChu looked through the sighting grid and knew the .50 caliber machine gun was ready to fire. “Hold it right there, Admiral. .. this man has something to say. I’d like to hear what it is.”
Slowly, reluctantly, Kagan allowed the pistol to fall. IfanaKa was amused. “I thank the Giver that humans spend most of their time at each other’s throats. Guard, help that officer up, and report for punishment. Twenty lashes should put you right. If the human were an assassin, I’d be dead by now.”
The sentry, who showed no reaction whatsoever, came to attention, did a smart about face, and marched into the rain.
North, who had the wind knocked out of him, spoke in short painful gasps. He described the battle, the attempt to escape, and what Kagan had done. The legionnaire had no hope of mercy from the admiral, assumed the cyborg was some sort of escort, and addressed himself to IfanaKa. “So, that’s it, sir. My people are ready to fight. Your forces will win, I know that, but we will kill a lot of them. And for what?
Nothing will be gained.”
IfanaKa looked at ChienChu. “He is yours—do with him what you will.’*
Kagan heard a roar in his head, felt heat suffuse his body, and understood his duty. Here was an opportunity to not only stop ChienChu but put the mutineer down. He would shoot the Hudathans, North, and himself in that order.
