Part 3 (1/2)
”The good news is that we probably won't have to face all those soldiers when we land. As we've discussed before, Waa is made up of four separate land ma.s.ses-large islands. Each island is separated from the others by thousands of kilometers. The Minith are spread out among the islands, which is good for us. Only a fourth of their fighters are stationed on the land ma.s.s where we will be landing. Of those forces, only twenty percent are staged in or near the city where we will be. So, we are looking at five-to-one odds at the initial point of contact.”
The faces staring back appeared grim. Some showed worry; others showed fear. Now was not the time to pull punches or provide his leaders with anything less than the full truth of their circ.u.mstances.
”Any questions?”
A hand shot up from the back.
”Captain Meeker?” Meeker was a fighter pilot and the leader of Flight Bravo.
”General, do we know what type of forces we'll be facing when we land?”
”Good question. I wish I had a good answer,” Grant said. ”The reality is that we don't know much about the Minith forces on Waa other than their numbers and locations. What we've seen till now-both on Earth and on Telgora-might not tell the whole story. For example, we know the Minith have trained foot soldiers, and that they use vehicles similar to common carriers to deliver their troops to the battlefield. We also know from t.i.tan and Gee's experiences six year ago that they have s.p.a.ce-born fighters capable of damaging a mothers.h.i.+p. We've never seen any evidence that they possess tanks, artillery, or planet-based fighters.”
”They don't have fighter carriers on the ground?”
”I didn't say that, Captain,” Grant explained. He did not want to give his forces false hope or false information. The reality was that he did not know what type of vehicles, weapons, or other fighting capabilities they could expect once they hit the ground. ”I said we don't have evidence that they possess that capability. We've never seen them, and the s.h.i.+p's databanks don't describe any of those resources, but that does not mean they don't have them, or their equivalents. For all we know, they have everything we have and a whole lot more.”
”Grant?”
”Yes, t.i.tan?” As a civilian, t.i.tan was not required to use Grant's t.i.tle. Grant did not mind, but some of the team leaders in the room shook their heads at the unintended slight.
”Those aren't good odds, even if the enemy doesn't have our weapons capabilities. Do we even stand a chance?”
There it is, Grant thought.
t.i.tan asked the million-dollar question-the one that everyone in the room had to be thinking about-and Grant was grateful. Although he would have eventually broached the subject if needed, receiving a direct query from a respected fighter like t.i.tan was best for morale. It did not change the reality of their circ.u.mstances, but allowed him to respond naturally, without appearing to be overly worried.
”Of course we have a chance.” Grant offered a thin smile with the statement, and nodded for effect. He wanted to convey as much optimism as he could without pulling punches, and carefully considered his next words.
He had never considered himself much of a motivational speaker-had never had to be. His reliance on superior training and the personal motivations of those under his command had always seemed sufficient. A high degree of self-motivation was one of the traits he required of the members of h.e.l.l's Warriors. He did not have those luxuries now. Although these fighters were motivated, trained, and veterans of the battles on Telgora, they would have been considered newbs by most twenty-first-century standards.
So, he did what any twenty-first-century warrior would do when facing a team of twenty-seventh-century soldiers. He dipped into his playbook of worn coaching cliches and tired, movie-based motivational speeches for inspiration.
”It's not going to be easy. In fact, it's going to be d.a.m.n-near impossible. But if we fight hard and luck is on our side, we can win this fight,” Grant began. He delivered his message from the core of his being and, over the next several minutes, he offered his best impression of the half-time speech of a coach trying to rally his team to overcome a huge deficit in their t.i.tle game.
His sprinkled references to ”those we are fighting for on Earth” and ”our duty and responsibility” and ”our chance to free humanity” might have been viewed as cheesy or hollow to the cynical minds of his own time. But his lines were delivered with heartfelt sincerity and a pa.s.sion that was genuine. ”None of us wanted this fight. All we wanted was Peace-and the right to live our lives free from slavery and injustice. But we will do what we have to do.” Grant struggled to rein in his emotions as he concluded his speech. ”Regardless of what happens on Waa, I am proud to be a part of this army. I am proud of each and every one of you.”
The fighters a.s.sembled before him stood taller. Several nodded. The fear and worry that had been so plain in their faces was replaced by stony glares of resolution and determination.
t.i.tan broke the short silence that followed.
”Where do you want to use us?” The resolution and commitment were palpable in his tone. It was clear that the former violent was ready to fight now.
At Grant's insistence, t.i.tan had attached himself to the group of fifty dindin warriors from Telgora. Even though he could not share in their ma.s.s mind, the ex-prisoner seemed to fit in with the group of gray-fleshed Telgorans better than with the soldiers and pilots on the s.h.i.+p.
”I'm just getting to that,” Grant answered. ”I want everyone to listen up closely. You will need to brief your teams on what to expect when we land and what each of their roles will be. If anyone has any questions as I go through this, now is the time to ask. Anyone have any more questions before we start?”
No one did.
”It should be no surprise to any of you that we're hoping to catch the Minith with their pants down,” he said.
His announcement was met with blank stares, and it took him a moment to realize his error.
”Let me explain what that means.” He sighed.
CHAPTER 4.
Rala marched quickly up the steps and into the corridor that led to Governor Truk's offices. Outwardly, she presented the calm, aloof manner that most Minith had come to equate with her appearance. As the minister for trade, she was a powerful player among the higher echelons of Minith society and commerce. In addition to the power she wielded, Rala was a highly attractive, widowed female. These dual elements of power and beauty contributed to make her increasingly popular among her race.
But her outward calm was overshadowed by inner turmoil.
Rala clawed the tiny device hidden within the secret pocket she had sewn into the hem of her blouse. Rea.s.sured that it was still there, she entered the governor's outer office and presented herself to Ghin.
”h.e.l.lo, Ghin.”
”Ah, Trade Minister Rala,” the governor's aide responded. His slick, overly formal tone grated on Rala, as it always did. The male was interested in her, but was intelligent enough to know he did not have a chance. As a result, he acted as if she was beneath his consideration. Although it caused their limited interactions to be uncomfortably stiff, it also served to make them mercifully short. Rala considered it a satisfactory trade-off.
”The governor is expecting me, I a.s.sume?”
”Yes. Go right in,” he said, offering a fake smile.
The governor was seated at his large, ornate desk when Rala entered. He looked up from the work on his desk and gave her a quick nod. Her presence acknowledged, he turned his focus back to the monitor on his desk.
As a frequent visitor to the office, Rala knew the expected protocol and silently took the chair placed in front of the governor's desk. As she lowered herself onto the hard surface, she could not help but notice-again-the disparity in height and comfort between the chair where she sat and the one Truk occupied. The opulence of his throne would have been an embarra.s.sment to most Minith. The rich purple upholstery, bejeweled back, and intricately carved legs were overshadowed only by the gaudiness of the chair's height and width.
She felt for the device in her blouse and quickly removed it.
Her pulse slowed at once. The ability to perform that maneuver without being detected had worried her for days. The act itself was anticlimactic. But the listening unit was now in her right hand, which she lowered slowly. She only needed to affix it to the bottom of her chair and she would- ”Rala, what do you think you are doing?”
The question cut the air and she yanked her hand back to her lap.
Governor Truk's eyes were still focused on the monitor he sat behind. There was no way he could have seen the movement.
”Um,” she said. Rarely was she at a loss for what words were needed in any situation, but that was the case now. ”I don't understand, Governor.”
Truk looked up from the monitor, his eyes suddenly fixed on hers.
”Telgora, Rala. General Soo. Earth?”