I don’t know exactly what “this” is, but the smell makes it clear enough. “So the… Kishi weren’t as friendly with the zhee as they thought?”
“Who is? But no. When that, uh, temple went up in flames… well, if you thought the zhee in Soob City were angry this morning, wait until word gets to them about what happened at the temple.”
Not much of this is making sense right now. I know there’s a bigger game happening than what I’m seeing. Nilo told me as much in our ride back from the temple op. But much of that was long-term stuff. A galaxy renewing itself, freeing itself from the yoke of the Republic which, though well-meaning, the Legion seemed intent on fastening around the necks of the planets who belonged. But Kublar will change all that. Give the galaxy new direction.
All that big picture conversation in the back of the sled wasn’t doing me any good right now. I was supposed to be leading my team on an assault through a koob village. And now… what?
“Brisco, I’m gonna need to know what my orders are here.”
“Yeah. Hold up. Mr. Surber is coming this way.”
“Carter?”
“Go for Carter, Surber.”
“Carter. Mister Nilo wants me to inform you that our plans are accelerating—a good thing. Verify that the Kishi village is destroyed and then send our assets to link up with Kublaren caravans staging to reach Subiyook City. You are to link up with Pekk warriors who will stay behind. Your liaison will know them. They’ll take your team to the next objective.”
“Roger that. Can you advise what or where that objective will be? We’re geared up for a fight and that’s about it.”
“All roads are leading to the Soob, Mister Carter. And all roads are leading to the fight.”
“Roger. Carter out.”
Mister Carter. I hate that Surber calls me that. It’s my stinking first name.
Lash is watching me, his fingers making a steeple and pressing into his lip. But he doesn’t say anything.
“Another change of plans?” asks Lana, knowing all too well that she’s right.
“Seems like it. We gotta make sure the Kishi village is wiped and then we’re being diverted to spend more time with our allies from the Pekk tribe.”
Pikkek gives off a click and his airsac bubbles a few times. “Thees is goo-ahd, too… k’k.”
The truck stops and the driver kills the repulsors, putting an abrupt halt to the music as well.
“Dismount,” I say, standing up to hop off first. An N-50 claps again, closer this time. “Stay frosty. Look alive. KTF.”
The Marines exchange a look and then Easy says, “Ready to KTF, bro?”
Abers nods. “You know it, Leej. I was born to KTF, son.”
“Let’s KTF, then.”
“KTF.”
“KTF!”
“Screw you guys,” I say. “Dumb Marines. Let’s go.”
I hop out of the back of the truck and sling my rifle, eyes squinting against the overhead sun despite my sunglasses.
“KTF,” I hear Pikkek croak from behind and then Abers and Easy break out into a laugh as they jump down after me.
I can feel the heat of those rays on the back of my neck and turn my ballcap backward to give it a little protection. The N-50 shouts again and this time I can see it. It’s mounted on the back of a wheeled technical truck and one of our guys is operating it. He’s firing into the smoking ruins of the village. I’m not sure at what. It doesn’t look like there’s a single stone stacked on top of another. It’s utterly flattened.
I wait to shout until the guy on the N-50 is between bursts. “What time did you get here?”
He’s shouting in his response. Making up for the noise of the N-50 he’s been jamming on. “About an hour ago! Recon team!”
“It was like this when you got here?”
“Yeah! Best we could tell, the donks rounded up the koobs, shot ’em all, and then piled up explosives charges. Blew most of the koobs to itty-bitties.”
He lets off another burst of fire.
“What are you shooting at?” I shout after the burst comes to an end.
“Donks used old tri-bomber ordnance. Some of it didn’t blow with the main explosion. You got a PIES bot to defuse?”
“Negative.”
“Well…” He sends another burst of N-50 fire at whatever he has his eyes on. This time he’s rewarded with a whole new boom. “Big Nee wants us to sweep the debris for intel before returnin’ to camp. Tryin’ not to get blown apart in the process, like them koobs.”
I can smell the pieces of koob flesh rotting in the sun. That fishy, rotten stench. “Roger that.”
“Carter.”
Lana is at my side. I walk with her a ways from the technical to escape the noise of more N-50 bursts.
“What’s up?”
“Pikkek has a bunch of Kublaren warriors with him now. They were waiting for us.”
I nod. “Command mentioned that. We’re riding with them to next phase.”
“Which is?”
“No idea.”
Lana shakes her head, her hair dancing around her mirrored sunglasses as she does. “Well. They seem to have a… present for you.”
I crack a smile. “Good to be the mookta.”
“We’ll see.”
I follow Lana to a platoon-sized element of Kublaren warriors. They’re sporting N-4s and a few slug throwers. Some of them I think I recognize from outside the Pekk chieftain’s place, but it’s tough to tell. I haven’t been in Kublar long enough to distinguish one random koob from another unless they have a particularly distinguishing feature like Pikkek’s size or a missing eye or something.
“Carter to Command. How copy?”
“I copy quite well, Carter, how copy you?” asks Brisco.
“Confirming Kishi site is destroyed and moving to link up with Pekk escorts. Carter out.”
“Copy that you’re out, Carter. Over and out.”
I sigh and don’t much care if Brisco hears it or not. He was probably trying to be a smart-ass.
This day. Already.
Lana is waiting for me. I jog to catch up to her and then reach a circle of koobs. My team is on the outside of the circle, mingling with Pikkek who gestures grandly at
