Andromeda's War (Legion of the Damned Book 3) (8 page)

It wasn’t long before the nearest picket ship showed up on the
Intaka
’s detectors. And if the cruiser could “see” the picket ship—then it could “see” the Hudathan vessel as well. And if the picket ship launched a message torp, Nola-Ba would know that he had failed. At that point, they could run or wait for the Humans to arrive. And running was unthinkable.

Every minute felt like a year. Finally, after half an hour had passed, Captain Po-Ba spoke. “Since there was no launch, it seems safe to assume that the trick worked. Secure from battle stations.”

Nola-Ba gave no outward sign of the elation he felt because to do so would be to communicate the possibility of defeat. He released the harness and stood. “Very well . . . Carry on.” And with that, he left the bridge.

—

Battle Group 761 had been inside Human-dominated space for the better part of a standard week when Flight Officer Homa-Sa entered the ship’s Command Center and crashed to attention. The semicircular space was large enough to accommodate six officers although only three were present. They included Nola-Ba, Captain Po-Ba, and the battle group’s Intel officer Spear Commander Aro-Sa. All sat with their backs pressed into shallow niches intended to make them feel more secure because no Hudathan would sit with his back exposed if that could be avoided. “At ease,” Nola-Ba said. “Commander Aro-Sa tells me that you had a very successful mission. What did you see?”

“The Humans are present,” Homa-Sa said, his eyes on a point over Nola-Ba’s head. “But there is only one small settlement.”

“The Humans call it Savas Prime,” Aro-Sa said contemptuously, as aerial photographs morphed onto the screens around them. “A sty fit for animals.”

Nola-Ba had done battle with the “animals,” and Aro-Sa hadn’t. So as he eyed a dozen roofs and some poorly laid-out streets, he wasn’t so dismissive. Some of the Humans were worthy adversaries. “What sort of vehicles did you see?”

“There was a single spaceship,” Homa-Sa said. “Plus a couple of air cars and some ground vehicles.”

“And that was all?”

“Three message torpedoes and two satellites are orbiting the planet,” Homa-Sa responded. “I left them untouched.”

Nola-Ba could destroy the town, the torpedoes, and the satellites whenever he chose to. So he had given orders to leave them alone for the moment. “And the moon?”

“The moon was uninhabited. I saw no signs of activity there.”

“Good. We can use it,” Nola-Ba said.

Po-Ba frowned. “Use the moon? For what?”

“A moon base would enable us to respond quickly if Human ships arrive and to fire on the planet’s surface if that becomes necessary,” Nola-Ba replied. Po-Ba was a good navy officer, and as such, had a tendency to focus on his ship. He would learn.

Nola-Ba looked at Homa-Sa. “Was your presence detected?”

“No, Admiral. I don’t think so.”

“Good job. Thank you. Dismissed.”

Homa-Sa did an about-face and left the room. “He’s a good pilot,” Aro-Sa said thoughtfully. “We could use more like him.”

“We could use more of
everything
,” Nola-Ba said absently. “Let’s take a look at those surface images again . . . We need to establish a base, and I don’t want to put it near that town.”

—

After two standard days of preparation, the invasion of Savas began. The first step was to destroy the Human message torpedoes and the satellites that were orbiting the planet. That process took all of forty-six seconds.

Aro-Sa wanted to level Savas Prime, and that would have been easy to do, but Nola-Ba refused. Not out of a sense of compassion but because it might be instructive to interrogate the Humans before killing them.

So instead of destroying Savas Prime, Nola-Ba elected to land a couple of thousand miles away. Not in an assault boat but aboard the elderly
Head Hunter
. The ancient destroyer wasn’t designed to land on planetary surfaces, so it would be a one-way trip.

But if the plan was successful, Nola-Ba would have one of the things he needed most, and that was raw materials for the fort he had orders to build. Metal salvaged from the
Head Hunter
’s hull would be used to construct the base, the ship’s drives would supply the power to run it, and its weapons would keep the fort safe from harm.

The
Head Hunter
’s commanding officer had been chosen because he was experienced enough to do the job but still qualified as expendable. His name was Spear Commander Ana-Ka and he had chosen to con the ship himself. The destroyer started to shake as it entered the atmosphere. The frame groaned, welds broke, and an alarm began to moan. The sound was similar to what a dying beast might produce. Nola-Ba was of the opinion that officers should never show emotion but couldn’t blame Ana-Ka as the retros fired, and he uttered a joyous bellow. The deck tilted, the shots on the screens disappeared, and the
Head Hunter
hit hard. “Shut the drives down,” Ana-Ka ordered, “but leave the emergency power on.”

Then, with the swagger typical of young officers everywhere, Ana-Ka turned to Nola-Ba. “Welcome to Savas, Admiral . . . I hope you enjoyed the ride.”

—

THE GREAT PANDU DESERT, PLANET SAVAS

The sun was still in the process of parting company with the eastern horizon, the vast expanse of sky was streaked with pink light, and the air was deliciously cool. It was Pudu’s favorite time of day. And that was fitting because he was chief of the northern tribe, also called the dawn people. His was the tribe that followed their katha eternally east while the southerners traveled west. The arrangement gave the grass path time to grow tall in between visits.

So there he was, sitting on a one-legged stool and drinking Jithi tea, when a rider approached from the south. The reddish zurna he rode galloped through the sprawl of domed tents and skidded to a stop not far from Pudu’s hoga. Guards offered salutes but made no attempt to intercept the rider.

Even at a distance, Pudu could recognize the lanky confidence typical of his firstborn son. His name was Ro Bola, and he was brave to a fault. Would he be chief one day? Sadly, no. That honor would fall to Pudu’s number two son.

But Bola didn’t know that and entered his father’s encampment with the swagger of the proven warrior that he was. Bola was more than six units tall. He had a bony, heat-dispersing head crest. It had been notched three times . . . And each notch symbolized a confirmed kill. His eyes were protected by semitransparent side lids designed to keep dust and sand from getting into them.

Bola paused to give his mother a wildflower that had probably been plucked while riding at full speed. Pudu had been capable of such feats in his younger days—and could remember the way the ground rushed past as he dangled from his zurna.

Having paid his respects to his mother, Bola made his way over to the spot where his father waited. A young female, one of dozens eager to capture Bola’s attention, hurried to bring a second stool. Bola thanked her and accepted a cup of tea from a second maiden before turning to his father. “Greetings, wise one . . . I see the light in your eyes. May it never grow dim.”

Pudu signaled acknowledgment. “It
will
dim . . . But not today. Welcome home.”

Bola took a sip of tea. “I bring news.”

Pudu knew that. Why else would his son make the long ride up from his station to the south? But a formal request would please the youngster, and he was willing to oblige. “How interesting . . . Please share it.”

“A huge starship landed next to Unda’s Belly,” Bola said, his eyes bright with excitement.

Because the northerners had been circling Savas for thousands of years, there had been plenty of opportunities to name each river, valley, and, in this case, a softly rounded hill. The crest of which resembled a belly. Or would if the person to whom it belonged was lying on his back and half-buried in the soil. That was the way the god Unda was said to sleep. Then, when Unda decided to roll over, the ground would shake.

So based on his son’s description Pudu knew where the landing had taken place. But
why
? The round heads had been content to live in the jungle until now—and their flying machines were rarely seen. Were the off-worlders planning to take more land? If so, that couldn’t be tolerated.

All that and more flickered through Pudu’s mind as Bola awaited a response. “This is important news indeed,” Pudu said gravely. “You were correct to come here as quickly as possible. Tell me everything you saw.”

So Bola described the ship which, even allowing for some exaggeration, was clearly larger than anything the northerners had seen before. But of equal importance was the way he described the creatures who emerged from the machine. “They were
huge
,” Bola said. “I estimate that each one of them weighs the amount that
two
warriors would! And they have head crests, like we do, only less pronounced.”

“So they aren’t Human.”

“No, they look different,” Bola replied. “But they have lots of machines—and what I took to be powerful weapons.”

That was very interesting indeed. At present, there were two types of weapons on Savas. Those manufactured by the jungle-dwelling Jithi—and those the round heads brought in. He knew that doing so was illegal according to Human laws, but that didn’t seem to stop them.

So if the newcomers planned to sell weapons, it was important to not only acquire some but prevent the southern tribe from doing likewise. And the most obvious way to accomplish those objectives was to kill the star creatures and take what he wanted. That wouldn’t be easy, of course . . . But
everything
was hard. He would think. Then, when the time was right, the sword would fall.

—

SAVAS BASE 001

Two standard weeks had passed since the landing. Engines growled as the Hudathans worked to improve their new base. Thanks to the crawlers that had been stored inside of the
Head Hunter
’s hangar bay, Admiral Nola-Ba’s ground party had been able to slice the top of the hill off. Now, having paved the raw surface with tilelike metal gratings, the Hudathans had a landing pad. It was large enough to handle two shuttles at once, which meant Nola-Ba could rotate personnel with the ships orbiting above. And that was good for morale. Especially given how primitive the planet was.

The troops were holding up well, however, thanks to skin that turned to a reflective white when exposed to the desert sun. So conditions that might have brought Humans to their knees had done very little to slow the work, a fact that was very much in evidence as Nola-Ba continued his daily walkabout.

Tons of soil removed from the top of the hill was spilling down its flanks. By that time, tunnels had been driven into the heart of the mound. The walls were reinforced with sheets of durasteel salvaged from the
Head Hunter
. And once the passageways were completed, the effort to create spaces for the ship’s fusion reactors, armory, and living quarters would begin.

As Nola-Ba’s walk took him past the steadily dwindling destroyer, he arrived in front of a specially designed tower. It was being used to drill a well, and the water was there, or so his engineers claimed. And once they tapped the aquifer, the liquid would be pumped into the hill via a system of buried pipes.

Out past the drill rig, Nola-Ba came to the spot where an earthen embankment was under construction. The plan was to use material removed from the hill’s interior to complete the barrier. Once the berm was finished, it would encircle the hill. Then it would be time to remove six energy cannons from the
Head Hunter
and install them in hardened bunkers. Power for the weapons would be supplied by fusion reactors inside the hill. At that point, the first element of Nola-Ba’s orders would be complete.

Of course, building the fort might be the easy part. He was also supposed to establish positive relationships with the indigenous peoples—and members of the Paguumi species had been lurking around the area since the landing.

Nola-Ba’s thoughts were interrupted by a radio transmission from Captain Ana-Ka. “The executive officer on the
Intaka
informs me that a dust storm is headed our way. I recommend that we pull the patrols in and stop work until it passes.”

That was regrettable since Nola-Ba wanted to use every minute available to him. But he knew that Ana-Ka was right and gave the necessary orders. All of the personnel on the ground were to take cover in what remained of the
Head Hunter
and stay there until the storm had passed. That included him. The wind had already begun to pick up, and Nola-Ba was being pelted with grains of sand by the time he reached the safety of the destroyer.

Originally, there had been only a few ways in and out of the hull. But thanks to all the salvage work, Nola-Ba could enter through any number of holes now. Guards were posted at each, and Nola-Ba acknowledged a salute as he stepped through a rectangular opening. From there, it was just a few paces to an internal hatch and the corridor beyond. The lifts had been removed, so it was necessary to climb an emergency ladder to reach the main deck. About half of the controls on the bridge were lit. The rest were permanently dark.

Captain Ana-Ka saw Nola-Ba enter and pointed at one of the few screens that were still operational. The camera was pointed toward the drilling rig, which was almost entirely obscured by flying sand. “It’s getting worse. According to the
Intaka
’s XO, the dust cloud is about five thousand feet tall and fifty miles wide.”

Nola-Ba nodded. “I hope such storms are the exception rather than the rule. What about our patrols? Have they returned?”

“Yes, Admiral,” Ana-Ka replied. “All of our people are accounted for.”

“Excellent. I’ll be in my cabin if you need me.” After Nola-Ba left the bridge, he took advantage of an emergency ladder to reach the deck below. The emergency lighting flickered occasionally but was sufficient. Once in his cabin, Nola-Ba had to use a hand torch in order to see.

It was impossible to get any work done the way things were—so Nola-Ba gave himself permission to enjoy a rare nap. It felt good to stretch out on the narrow bunk and close his eyes. It wasn’t long until sleep pulled him down into a wonderful dream. He was young again . . . And walking through one of the many villages that belonged to the Ba clan. Things weren’t entirely right, however. He could see people he’d known from childhood, but they couldn’t see him.