Read THE PRIZE: BOOK TWO - RETRIBUTION Online

Authors: Rob Buckman

Tags: #sci-fi

THE PRIZE: BOOK TWO - RETRIBUTION (23 page)

BOOK: THE PRIZE: BOOK TWO - RETRIBUTION
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“This is going to leave a bruise.”

With knees tucked up, he shot by more startled men, some sending a few panicked shots into the stairwell above as he plummeted another ten floors before impacting on the pile of bodies at the bottom. This made a squelching sound, as he hit, not that the men underneath him complained. Another armored security door at the bottom sealed the guards in the stairwell, knowing they’d get a warm welcome from the team outside when they found they couldn’t get back into the bunker this way. A utility room offered up another power panel, and it took only a moment to turn it into a smoldering mess, spitting hot blue sparks as it died. Surprise and confusion were two weapons Penn loved to use, as in the dark, it was difficult to tell who was who—men hesitated that much longer making sure they weren’t shooting their own people. Separating the stun rod into two halves, Penn went through the next ten men as easily as he had the first four. The only difference was, he stunned, instead of killing these. Without knowing the layout of this place, Penn kept going down, as the most secure part of the complex should be down there, but it wasn’t until he’d gone down another fifteen floors that he came out into anything like a living area. For the last ten floors, he’d been unobserved, slipping away into the dark shadows to vanish or using his suit in stealth mode. The fifteenth floor hadn’t suffered the same power failure as the ones above, and without any convenient power panels he had no way of turning off the lights. Now it was a question of speed and maneuvering. Hiding where he needed too, fighting when he had no other option. Even so, the number of guards was thinning, so hopefully, the rest were above him in a fruitless search. A beep sounded in his ear as the battery on his active cammo ran out. Speed was his only option now and he took off running.

“Shit!” He muttered as he raced around the corner and right into a group of Thrakee coming the other way.

He charged and bowled them over, thinking to keep on running. That was until a second group came running up, weapons raised. He skidded to a halt and Instead of drawing his side arm, he froze. Getting killed at this point wasn’t exactly in his plans. Even so, for a moment he thought they’d fire anyway. His skin suit would protect him against most of what they were pointing at him, even if it would hurt like a bitch. Once they fired, they would feel they’d done the job and killed him. That was the moment he planned to attack. Just as they were about to fire, a sharp command rang out, and the Thrakee froze. A slightly taller Thrakee with dark green skin and an ornate cross webbing over his chest pushed his way through the troop, and stood there looking at him.

“Why do you wear the harness of an Orlon, human?” He hissed.

“What? Penn was dumbstruck for a moment, unable to comprehend what the Thrakee was talking about. The creature pointed to his own chest, then at Penn. He looked down at the leather harness.

“I took it in open combat with one of your people.” He answered, crouching slightly, ready to spring. That brought a low hissing growl from the troops. They fell silent when the leader held up his hand.

“A lie, human. None of your kind can best any one of us in open combat, let alone an Orlon.” Penn shrugged. “You shot him in the back from cover like the cowards you are and took his harness.” The Thrakee snarled.

“If that’s what you want to believe, go ahead.” The leader stepped forward and held his hand out, deliberately extending his claws.

It was both a request and a demand. Not sure why, Penn pulled out the Thrakee fighting knife and placed it in the leader’s open hand. First, he sniffed the blade before raising it to his mouth, flicking his tongue out to touch the blade, his iridescent cat’s eyes went wide in shock, whereupon he immediately dropped to one knee. A few seconds later, the rest of the troops did the same.

“Pardon lord. You spoke the truth, you did indeed defeat him in open combat.”

“Huh? I mean… Explain.”

“The blood on the knife, yours, and Orlon Paccar. Blood always tells the truth; you and he fought to the death.” That surprised Penn, as other than fighting this Thrakee, he had no way of proving what he’d said. How he knew by just tasting the blade was unknown, and in a way, Penn was thankful.

“And what is an Orlon?”

“In human words, it is a prince. Por-Orlan Paccar was a Prince of the blood from the nest of the Royal mother.” He answered, bowing his head. “We are now yours to command above all others except the Royal Mother herself. So saying he drew his own knife and drew it across both his forearms, as did the rest of the Thrakee. Blood dripped to the floor from the deep cuts, but none showed a trace of pain.

“What name are you known by?” The leader asked.

“I am known as Penn.”

“Then you are now one of a hundred Por-Orlan Penn of Earth, and it would be our honor to fight and die beside you if necessary.”

“There are many questions that must be answered later. For now, do you bar my progress and aid the humans here?”

“No lord. As your servants, we will follow and aid you in whatever it is you wish to do here.” Penn shook his head at his good fortune.

“I seek to rescue my…” he was going to say wife, but that wouldn’t translate too well to Thrakee, “I seek to rescue my mate.”

“Command and we will obey, lord.” This was going to take some getting used to, and explaining.

“How many more of you Thrakee are there?” He asked.

“Another three twelve’s, lord.” Penn blinked in surprise.

“Are you in contact with them?”

“We are, lord.”

“Contact them and tell them to meet you. Do not engage any humans, only Estarians, if they get in our, or their way.”

“With great pleasure, lord.” Not much love lost between the two races that was for sure. How these humans kept the two from ripping each other to bits needed looking into. The Estarians he could understand, as they willingly worked for the Empire, but the Thrakee were another matter.

“How is it that you work for these humans here?” Penn wasn’t familiar enough with Thrakee to decipher their body language or color change.

“We were captured in battle by the Empire. A human spoke for us to prevent our execution. In doing so we took on a blood debt and swore to come here as their body guards.” It was as much by the way he said it that Penn understood how dishonored they felt.

“And now?” For a moment there was some foot shuffling and muttered comments that Penn’s language chip couldn’t translate.

“We… I feel that our debt has been discharged these many years, Lord, and you have offered us a way to redeem our honor.” That Penn understood all too well. He stood closer to their leader and placed one hand over his heart, the other on the Thrakee’s shoulder.

“I swear you have fulfilled your blood debt to these humans and after this is over, I will return you to a place where you can rejoin your own people. As long as you swear not to attack any human unless I order it, no harm will come to any of you from my people.”

“As you command, lord, so shall it be.” Oddly, the Thrakee lifted his head, and for a moment Penn didn’t get it. Then he did. The Leader was offering his vulnerable throat to his blade should he or any of his troops fail to obey, or break his oath. Seeing that, the rest took a knee and lifted their heads.

“Golden Eye to Hot Pants.”

“Hot Pants - go.”

“Hope you have a fly-eye down here, girl.”

“I do, sir, and I can’t believe the shit I’m seeing. I thought these guys hated all us mammals?”

“They do, normally. These guys are now on our side, so tell everyone not to shoot them in the ass by mistake.”

“Ten-four, Skipper.” While Penn was relaying the information, their leader was doing the same. “What name are you addressed by?”

“I am Rarth, first of twelve

“Okay, Rarth, the password is ‘golden eye’. Use it to challenge any humans you encounter.”

“I understand, lord. It shall be. I will relay this to all of my nest mates.”

“Hot Pants - do you copy that?”

“Five by five, Golden Eye. I’ll pass it on to the troops.”

“Take your troops and fan out, where possible, neutralize any humans you meet that don’t reply to your challenge. That means don’t kill them.”

“I hear and will obey, lord.”

“Where are the humans you guard?”

“One level down, in a central um… palace you’d call it.”

“Right, I’ll head down there and find the one I came for.”

“We go.”

Penn nodded at their salute and they took off, splitting into two groups, while Penn took off down the stairwell with the second group with Rarth right behind him. One level down, he forced open the double security doors and found a long well-lit passageway on the other side. Instead of bare concrete floors, this had tiled walls and carpet down the middle, suggesting he was entering the living level of the complex. This was no spartan government compound, but some well-built structure from before the invasion. How and why it had been built, or by whom remained a mystery, but who’s to say some multi-millionaire hadn’t foreseen some global catastrophe and planned this ahead as a bolt hole for him and his friends. Ever suspicious, and rather than step blithely out into the corridor, he glided silently alongside the wall, expecting to spring some sort of trap any second, yet nothing obvious happened. Step by slow step they reached the other end and an ordinary looking wood paneled door. He touched it, expanding his senses to feel what was on the other side, but he couldn’t feel anything, electronic or human. Even so, he still had the uneasy feeling he was being watched. As the door behind closed, the one in front opened as he stepped out into an ornate chamber. It looked like something out of the Arabian nights, with fluted columns and hanging drapes. The center was dominated by a huge swimming pool with hot water pouring in from urns held by naked statues of young females. The rest of the chamber held scattered couches, piles of food and fruit and semi naked slaves of both sexes administering to men and women lying on the couches. That was all he managed to see before about twenty Estarian guards exploded out of the shadows and the battle was on. He didn’t need to tell the Thrakee what to do, and even outnumbered as they were, they shrieked their battle cry and plunged into the fight. Penn squeezed down on his stomach muscles and went into full combat mode, but even so, it took a lot before the Estarians went down. A couple of times he ended up facing a Thrakee and had to remember who he was fighting. Thankfully he pulled back from going completely berserk in time and didn’t cause an incident by accidently killing one of them. If he had gone berserker, he would have killed every living thing in the chamber. In all, the battle lasted for twenty minutes and he lost three of the Thrakee before the last Estarian went down. Penn slowed, panting for breath, his hands, and arms dripping with his, and Estarian blood. He winced as he turned, finding he hadn’t got off scot-free himself. Not that it mattered, as many of his impromptu guards looked a little worse for wear.

“Hot Pants?”

“Hot Pants - go.”

“I need our medical team down here on the double. We have some wounded to take care of.”

“On their way, Golden Eye. They should be there in five.”

“Ten-four. Any news?”

“Team One and Two are close to your position - they met some resistance but with the help of the Thrakee all tangos have been neutralized.” Penn now looked around the chamber, wondering where the late occupants had gone, as other than the slaves, the rest had vanished somewhere.

“Hot Pants to Golden Eye - Sitrep update - A large Imperial courier ship just blasted out of here with its tail on fire, heading into orbit.”

“Shit!” With no space-born assets to call on, there was no way he could stop the ship from leaving.

“Golden Eye to all teams - sweep the place and push everyone you find to my twenty.”

“Ten-four Golden Eye.” The response came in from each of the teams. Just then, Rarth came over and took a knee, bowing his head.

“Por-Orlan Penn. It has been an honor to fight at your side. You richly deserve the title of Por-Orlan.”

“Um… thanks.” Richard wasn’t sure what to say. Rarth looked around the chamber and nodded to the bodies of the dead Estarians. “More than half of these #@&%% are your blood trophies, my lord, and if we ever return to our home nest, I shall report to the Royal Mother that Prince Orlon Paccar died at the hand of a true warrior.”

“Thank you. You do me a great honor. As promised, you will return to your home, and given time I will take you there myself.” Rarth looked startled for a moment.

“You would take us yourself?”

“Yes.”

“Even knowing that our two species are at war?”

“Are we? I only see a fellow warrior here before me, not an enemy.” Rarth hissed something that Penn couldn’t catch as all the Thrakee knelt and hissed what sounded like the same thing.

“Um… what was that?”

“It is in our ancient tongue. It is the oath of fealty of my nest to you Por-Orlan Penn, for now and forever, for you are truly a Prince and worthy of our loyalty.” Penn had to shake himself. First the Silurians and now the Thrakee were according him honors he didn’t think he deserved, though he doubted he’d be sleeping with the Royal Mother anytime soon.

“I accept the honor, and there shall be peace between our races as long as I live.”

“I only wish I could send the recording of this to my home nest so that all ten thousand of my nest mates could rejoice in this.”

“Ten thousand… how big is your nest?”

“Ours is the largest, and most powerful of all the nests and directly descended from the eggs of the Royal Mother herself.”

* * * * * *

“So, what do we have?” Penn asked the strike team leader as the medic treated the cuts on his arms and shoulder.

“Not sure, but it looks as if half of the bigwigs got away on that courier ship.” He pursed his lips into a thin, bitter line. “All we have left are the slaves and a bunch of overfed, over weaned pompous asses.”

“Sounds like the perfect description of a politician.”

“You can say that again. They keep demanding their rights, whatever those are and want to know who’s in charge.” He grinned. “And what right do we have for barging in here and shooting the place up.” Penn pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head.

BOOK: THE PRIZE: BOOK TWO - RETRIBUTION
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