Again, when there was a Republic.
In this case and with this model, it’s the truth. It’s not a bucket by any stretch, but the tech is similar. It can cycle through low-light night vision, thermal and infrared. It’s stress rated to be able to handle a full-charge blaster bolt fired at two hundred meters and a half-charge bolt fired at fifty meters. Which, as long as only the goggles are hit, is fine. I’d probably still get a good portion of my beard burned off if I get that unlucky.
It’s also rated to withstand a bullet impact from any range beyond twenty-five meters. But if I get shot in the face by a donk rifle with an eight millimeter round… well, at least the goggles will be able to be passed on to the next guy while I lay in a coma waiting for a med bot to pull me back to consciousness.
The point is, Big Nee doesn’t skimp on supplying us with the best when the job calls for it.
I press the sync button on the side of my goggles and then press the same on my rifle’s optics. The two pair and I can see my reticule guides. Right now they’re just arrows on my NV screen indicating that the barrel is pointed up while I look straight ahead. I bring the weapon to my hip, aiming it at an empty section of rock, and see the targeting reticule just fine.
I’m not a fan of hip-firing with anything, even my shotgun, but a setup like this makes it much easier.
Lastly, I look down the empty road that leads to the lower sections of the Pekk mountain enclave. It’s dark until I switch on the night vision capabilities and then I can see everything clear as daylight… with that same green tint.
But this will do. I can grab anything else after the rest of my team has a shot.
“Get stocked,” I call to my guys (and Lana).
I move back and try to get what intel I can from Hopper while they raid the back of the van like eager kids running to the spire on Unity Day morning to open their presents.
“So the temple… that’s the one twenty clicks west? Where the raiders mobilize from?”
Hopper nods. “Yeah. And about time. Gowan’s team did some recon a few days ago and the donks are building a landing pad.”
“Didn’t think they had ships, man.”
“The way things are going in the Soob, only a matter of time before some old Repub surplus gets ‘sold,’ you know?”
I shake my head. “If the Soob and its House of Reason wannabes had their way, this whole planet would be a new Ankalor.”
“So long as they get theirs,” agrees Hopper. “But that’s not what Big Nee wants and so it’s not what’s gonna happen, brother.”
I nod slowly. Big Nee does seem to have a plan—in general. Sometimes I don’t see how things like today fit in. Hopper’s team killing a bunch of unfriendly koobs and us cleaning them up. But from the beginning, we’ve been told over and again that we’re operating as part of a much larger vision and plan for the future of Kublar and its indigenous people.
I don’t care about the koobs.
But I do sleep a little better knowing that my paycheck is stemming from something that’s pretty much good. If it’s against the zhee, it can’t be all bad, anyway.
Now, you might be the type who is horrified that we’re about to raid a holy zhee temple. And maybe that’s because your experience stems from what the Republic constantly showed you, or you met some zhee who were friendly enough to not want to kill you and eat you. Some of the zhee who left the four worlds as refugees might be that way.
And their temples might be all right.
I wouldn’t really know. I’m not a theologian.
And I’m not here as a missionary or to even talk religion. I don’t care about the zhee gods except to say that they sure seem to demand a lot of suffering from their own adherents and especially from those who don’t worship them. But religion isn’t the point. I didn’t come to Kublar to convert the donks or koobs to Oba. I’m not even an Oba-worshipper. The galaxy would probably call me part of a cult when it comes to my own microscopic faith. That’s to be expected if you espouse any religion when you’ve got a system run by the House of Reason.
But what most of the zhee I’ve ever encountered do, especially out here so close to their home worlds, is hide behind their faith to do some truly wicked things within those temple walls.
Ritualistic torture and honor killing. The thousand cuts thing like what happened to that poor featherhead back when the Legion wiped out Ankalor.
Public rape as entertainment.
Slave markets.
Drug trafficking to fund countless insurgencies.
Mass executions and genocidal purging.
All happening within those towering walls protected by the pure holy warriors outside. Keeping the garbage that happens within hidden from those who shouldn’t know. Who don’t want to know.
That’s the zhee.
And when I was in the Legion, every time we were on a world where the trouble came from the donk mission population—let alone if we were garrisoned on one of the four home worlds—the IEDs that rocked our sleds, the enforcement teams that killed their own for appearing too friendly with the Republic, mutilated their children, left them cripples, abused them, shamed them… all that.
It always originated inside a holy zhee temple.
So when Hopper tells me we’re going to take one down, I’m guessing the plan will be to destroy the shuttle pad they’re building, neither of us has the slightest doubt that we’re doing the right thing.
“We’re good to roll, Carter.”
I look over and see Lana strolling toward me, a pair of stuffed med kits bouncing off of her hips, one on each side, the slings forming an X across her
