Except when he puts it that way, it does feel a little frightening. All I wanted was to make life easier for my family. And so why do I feel like I’m now on a ride that I can’t get off. Ever.
Brisco’s voice joins the conversation. “And we’re clear. Last transmission was two hours before the assault began. Routine check.”
“Great,” Nilo says. “Thanks, Brisk.”
“You got it, bud.”
Nilo nods at me and we start to move for the door.
“Should we torch this place?” I ask.
Nilo shakes his head. “No. We’ll burn it all down after we’re finished.”
The blaster fire has died down significantly. We move out of the comm room and into the anteroom when I hear the shuffling of feet outside. I can’t make out who they belong to, but I don’t think they’re human. Running on training that has long since become instinct, I raise my fist to tell Nilo to stop. I creep forward to the doorway, lean against its frame, take a peek into the hall, then duck back inside.
“Be advised,” I say into the all-squad comm. “Koobs are in the temple.”
“Roger that,” Easy says in reply. “They’re here, too. Helping us mop up the last of the zhee. We’re good, Carter.”
Nilo is at my side now.
“I’ll call out our position,” I say. “Hopefully they speak Standard. I don’t want to get through all this just to be shot by our allies.”
But then Nilo yells something out in Kublaren. There’s a throaty, clicking reply and then Nilo steps out of the door, gesturing for me to follow. I do.
There’s a squad of nine koobs with blaster rifles slung around their shoulders. They’re standing still, looking at Nilo with their three-fingered hands pressed together at the palm. Their airsacs are half-inflated.
Nilo says something else in koob and the Kublaren beings, croaking and clicking, let their sacs deflate as they move on.
“What’s up with that?” I ask.
“Oh,” Nilo says as we move into the temple proper, stepping over dead zhee in the process. “That’s just how the koobs show honor to an allied chieftain.”
I look around, expecting to see another koob behind us.
Nilo has his helmet off, clipping it to his rig. “That’s the other thing we were doing in that meeting, Carter. We’re an official tribe of Kublar now. The galaxy is as wide-open as it’s ever been since before the Savage Wars. We’re sailing for new horizons.”
I find Abers outside the compound in the main courtyard. He’s waiting next to the truck we’d filled with dead koobs.
Immediately Abers’s eyes go wide. “Carter—where’s the team?”
“It’s all right. They’re fine. We just got separated inside. They’re cleaning up now and should be out soon. How did you make out?”
Abers nods at the piles of dead spread throughout the compound. Dead donks are everywhere, bleeding into the sand. Those still whinnying with pain having their throats cut out by koobs wielding those incredibly sharp black stone knives. There are no small number of dead koobs littering the area either. But these are being pulled out and loaded onto covered sleds by their Kublaren allies, and the wounded are being given medical attention.
“Mister Surber had me set up to support the koob assault,” Abers says. “It was a fight, Carter. Koobs don’t play. Neither did the zhee, though. I dusted maybe ten before things got too mixed up for me to shoot safe, and then I dropped a half dozen more zhee trying to fire from the parapets or towers.”
“Good work,” I say, glancing back at Nilo.
He’s just standing there, helmet back on, acting the same as he did as Winters. I guess he’s not looking to bring Abers in on things. At least not yet. And while I’m not scared, I’m not wanting to bring it up, either.
“Here comes ya boy,” Abers said, pointing to my left.
I turn and see Hopper and what’s left of his team walking up. They’re all covered with grime and sweat. I’m no spring nectarn, but I can tell that I look to be in much better shape than they are. I see Lash, Lana, and Easy trailing Alpha Team, some koobs walking along as well.
“No, no, Carter,” Hopper says as he approaches. “No need to hurry up and bail me out. You just stand here and cool off. We’re good.”
He doesn’t mean anything by it. This is just the way we say hello.
“I gave you half of my team already,” I say. “Somebody had to finish all the objectives since Alpha wasn’t up to the task.”
Hopper looks down at the mention of his team. I see that he’s missing about three men and immediately feel regret for the barb. It’s how we do it, but sometimes, it still hurts.
“How bad?” I ask.
“Lost three. Kevin Meier, Alistair Rooney, and Theron Whittle.”
I didn’t know any of the guys.
“Sorry, Hopper.”
“It’s the life we live.”
My team rolls in subdued, probably sensing the weight that’s settled in over us all. Easy exchanges a bro-hug with Abers and the two begin talking quietly. Lash is surveying the battlefield, nodding approvingly. Lana starts looking me over, making sure her patch-job from earlier is still good. Her hands are covered in blood, and I imagine she did what she could for Hopper’s team.
“Anyone know what’s next?” Nilo asks.
Hopper shrugs.
I see Easy and Lana exchange a look, but neither of them say anything. And… Nilo is right. They look afraid to.
I can’t see Lash’s face. I can’t imagine him being afraid either, though. He’s unfrightenable (guess that’s a word). But maybe he’s like me and he sees that there’s no sense in spilling the news just to tell it. No gain.
“Here comes Surber,” Lana says. “We’ll all find out soon.”
Surber walks up to us, Errol behind him. He hands Errol his briefcase and puts his hands at his side, hitching his thumbs into a black leather belt.
“Where’s Wick?” I ask.
“Shot in the face,” Surber says as if the words have
