Hresh looked on with white eyes—the only one without a weapon.
“What, we’re going right to the hot spot?” said Fenli.
“Where else? You want to do the scenic tour here and run out of air?”
“I mean—”
“I know what you mean, Fenli,” said Yul. “But let me do the thinking. Playing it cautious and namby-pambying around is not going to win us a blue ribbon. We need air, supplies and ship-power if we’re to survive.”
“No kidding.”
“And where there’s guns, there’s ships,” put in Cloye.
Fenli saluted. “Yeah, got it, Sarge. Thanks for clueing me in.”
Yul gave a loose-limbed shrug.
“I know, I’m a pain in the ass.” Fenli’s rangy figure did an odd scarecrow-like twist.
The others ignored him. At least he was regaining some of his mojo.
Down the rough-hewn corridor they moved like restless wraiths. Eyes wide in the dim light from the back tunnels, Yul took the lead, E1 raised. Cloye padded two steps behind while Fenli and Hresh brought up the rear. Fenli thought to tap Yul on the shoulder, ready to offer some advice but Yul silenced him, drawing a finger across his throat. He needed to think. He couldn’t have radio noise polluting his head. There was a possibility these aliens were monitoring channels within the tunnels. Why, he could not imagine, just a funny feeling he had.
These wide, snaky passageways looked like an ancient seabed. Strange snail and fish-like fossils stuck in the walls, with curlicued backs and herring-bone spines, some embedded in the shell-like chunks of rock on the pebbly ground. Their feet stirred up a chalky dust as they moved onwards. Now they passed a cross tunnel, leading to an abandoned open chamber with alien bones inside that offered eerie possibilities. A combo of squid and bug motifs were carved on the walls. At one time this place must have been occupied by both races.
The sounds of activity intensified and Yul brought them to a halt. On quiet feet, he crept round a bend where a pale glow issued out from a wide entrance. His jaw dropped as he thrust his head around. Below in a giant oval cavern sat a hundred ships shining in what was an otherworldly glow. All were arranged in neat rows. Mostly Mentera craft from what he could see. Wide, flaring mantis-bodies supporting sleek necks with smooth-curved globelike turrets. The tumult turned out to be not gunfire, but Mentera in space-suits loading supply trains of barrels, bins and various bulky equipment into the lightfighters. Packing up shop. Of course. That seemed to be in sync with events thus far, a Zikri and Mentera allied invasion of the colonized human worlds.
The bangs and booms continued, a discordant jumble of unchoreographed noise. Judging by the aerials and tower boxes, the equipment seemed to be tracking and simulation hardware. Military Mentera—they bobbed around on their hind legs, in their black and silver helmets and suits, taking orders from a few selected captains. All in all, a wash of alien menace.
This vast underground cavern, full of lethal firepower sported a primitive potpourri of elements. High tech, military locusts, scattered boulders and pegmatite rock formations poking up on either side.
Yul’s mind raced as he rubbed the side of his helmet. So…this was their base. The Mentera had secured a toehold here, with their small fleet of a hundred lightfighters and messenger craft. Why in this desolate, dry wasteland and cavework labyrinth of tunnels? Their presence mystified Yul.
Maybe Mentera and Zikri deployed joint training maneuvers within the parameters of this new, secret alliance? That would explain the ships dog-fighting over the ridge and disappearing within for debrief and cooperative discussion.
Cloye nudged up to Yul’s elbow, her broad face etched in a grimace. The others clambered at her heels.
They sidled closer to gape at the scene, crouched behind some porous rock formations from a somewhat higher vantage point. Yul’s breath came out in a harsh, aspirated echo in the com.
Fenli moved in to get a closer look, his weapon cocked in his hand. “Plenty of ships down there.”
Yul rasped, “Those are Mentera lightfighters and our ticket out of here. If we can ambush one of their crew and steal their craft…”
Fenli nodded. “Good idea. How though? Only four of us and little air left.”
“Fight our way through, how else?” Cloye grumbled. “You a chicken shit?”
“No, I’m not chicken shit. Just a little more cautious in my old age. After nearly dying out in ice and spending time in a Mentera tank for about twenty years, my days of kamikazeing are over, lady. You may want to throw yourself into enemy jaws, but not I, said chicken little—”
“Shut the hell up,” Yul hissed at him. “We don’t have much time.” He turned to the research scientist crouched white-faced and jittery. “Hresh, you got a read on those bugs over there?”
“They’re suiting up nicely, Yul, likely getting ready for a mission. I estimate they have orders to join the L-16s orbiting somewhere up there.”
“Not a bad guess. So, time to make our—Here, wait now.” Yul craned his neck. Three Mentera worked at carrying a strange crate pulsing with a blue glow into one of the Mentera lightfighters. “What the hell’s that all about?”
“Who knows? Some bomb or devious weapon, I expect.”
“No doubt, Fenli. Whatever’s brewing, we have to sandbag these miserable creatures before they enslave the human colonies.”
Cloye crouched panther-like. She was ready to move down the slope to pick off Mentera but Yul held her back. “Until the rest of the ships fly off, stay put. See that last ship with the funny box they’re bringing on board? Seems to have extra priority. More protocol in order.
“Hresh, you keep a distance behind us. No sense you getting shot up for no reason.”
“I feel kind of useless here,” he mumbled. “No weapon or commando training.”
Fenli hissed,
