The Morcai Battalion: The Recruit. Diana Palmer

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ * *

      MADELINE WONDERED FOR days about Taylor’s odd remark, that Dtimun would kill her if he tried to mate with her. She couldn’t find any reference to Cehn-Tahr customs or culture in any of her resources. In desperation, she key holed Hahnson, who knew more than anyone in her acquaintance about the aliens.

      She told him what Taylor had said in his drunken state. “What did it mean?” she asked.

      Hahnson only smiled blandly. “How would I know?”

      She glowered at him. “You know a lot. You knew that Cehn-Tahr mark their mates.”

      “A bit of gossip I picked up,” he said evasively. He lifted an eyebrow. “If I were you, I’d leave the subject strictly alone.”

      She shrugged. “I guess I’ll have to. But it’s intriguing. We know so little about their culture, their behavioral traits. We know a lot about Rojoks, but they have reptilian DNA. Cehn-Tahr are supposed to be descended from felines.” She gave him a wry look. “I’m no geneticist but I’m not stupid, either. They have eyes that change color...nobody else in the galaxies does. And they may have feline traits, but the only way you get galot DNA is to be injected with it.”

      He put a finger to his lips. “Don’t even joke about that.”

      “Strick, we’ve been friends for a long time,” she persisted. “Can’t you tell me anything?”

      He averted his face. “Some mysteries are best left unsolved,” he said flatly. “Now how about giving me your opinion on this new treatment for Altairian flu?”

      Diverted, she turned to the virtual display. Since there was no way to satisfy her curiosity, she let the subject drop. For the time being. Privately, she wondered about the window her commanding officer had given her into his culture, something he’d never discussed with her in almost three years. It had been intriguing, and flattering, that he shared the remembrance ceremony with her. She really wondered why, when it was such a breach of custom. As she’d promised, however, she hadn’t said a word to Hahnson about that, even if she had picked his mind on Cehn-Tahr mating habits.

CHAPTER FOUR

      THE WAR, LIKE all wars, had periods of monotony and boredom. It also had sudden spurts of urgency. This was one. The Rojoks had landed an advance force on a planet in the Dibella system and were preparing a staging area for a far larger command. Lagana was the largest continent on the planet; a rich source of clean water and foodstuffs, of which the Rojok supply lines were desperately in need.

      Dtimun called in all off-duty personnel and set a course for the planet. The Dibella system was a link in a chain leading to the home planets of the Tri-Galaxy Council members. The advance, which was small at the moment, had to be stopped and the staging area destroyed. Lawson, for once, didn’t oppose the commando mission. Madeline had wanted to take Edris Mallory along on the mission, even if she’d had to conceal her on board. But once the Morcai put down on Lagana, the Dibella system’s fourth planet, she was glad she hadn’t. It was no milk run. There was a considerable Rojok presence in a staging area near one of the continent’s major cities—although on this jungle world, that meant a population of less than two hundred souls. The Rojoks obviously planned a takeover here, and had just landed troops with that intention, in two makeshift camps. The resources of the planet were extensive.

      Dtimun called a briefing before the Holconcom left the ship. He pulled up a virtual map in the center of the room and indicated the Rojok staging area.

      “We must destroy their communications equipment first. Jennings.”

      “Yes, sir!” the human comm chief said, saluting.

      “This will be your job. Coordinate with Komak’s forward unit.”

      “Yes, sir!” Jennings grinned. On a human ship, he’d never have been allowed in combat. Communications personnel of Jennings’ command rank were not allowed on away missions in the Terravegan military. But here, duty descriptions were different. He loved these assaults; odd for a communications guy, Madeline thought amusedly.

      Dtimun glanced at her and his eyes flashed green as he read the thoughts in her mind.

      “You must take your bodyguard with you,” Komak told the C.O. abruptly.

      Dtimun gave him an odd look.

      Komak didn’t back down. “You must.”

      Dtimun sighed. “Very well.” He indicated the four Holconcom who performed that function. “You will come down with me.”

      The ranking officer in the small unit saluted.

      Madeline found it unusual that Dtimun agreed to Komak’s suggestion. Often, the younger Cehn-Tahr had premonitions about difficult missions. Apparently, he had one about this one. Strange, because it was such a small Rojok command. But, Madeline thought, might as well err on the side of caution. She studied Dtimun covertly as he outlined the order of battle. She recalled him in sweeping robes at the Altair embassy. He had looked...very nice.

      His eyes shot around and pinned her.

      “Sorry, sir,” she thought at once, and forced her mind back to military thoughts. These irrational flashes were starting to get the better of her.

      * * *

      THEY HAD HOPED to land undetected, but the Rojoks had new state-of-the-art sensors and they worked. The minute the scout ships touched down, the Rojoks were waiting for them.

      The onslaught was fierce. Two Rojok squads armed with kremoks, the new rapid-firing plasma rifles that fried internal organs, tore through the human infantry like fire through forests. Madeline saw two soldiers she’d served with since basic training go down, dead before they hit the ground. She checked them, anyway, but it was far too late for any medical technique to bring them back other than as clones, a living death in Terravegan society. She rose and moved quickly to the sound of plasma fire, forcing herself to be professional, not to let her emotions get the better of her. She had to tend to the living.

      The medical research facility on Camcara was developing a counterweapon, a chemical screen that would be woven into the newest uniforms issued to the SSC. Madeline had adapted the technology for the Holconcom and Dtimun had authorized the addition and made it standard issue. But the uniforms were still in quality control tests.

      Some of the commando squads were still using the older chasats, and one of those units had wedged itself between Dtimun and his bodyguard in the thick, muggy green jungle of vines and plants that covered this continent. Madeline cursed as she tried to move past a tangle that resembled a spiderweb. Then she remembered the illegal Gresham she’d tucked in the small away kit over one shoulder. She pulled it out and activated the power pack. With that, she cut through the vegetation in no time. She pressed ahead. The urgency grew as she heard the thum-thum sound of chasat fire close by.

      “Ruszel!” She heard the ranking member of Dtimun’s four-man bodyguard unit in the tissue-thin monitor pasted just behind her ear.

      “Yes!” she spoke into the matching monitor that rested like part of the skin at her lips.

      “The commander has been hit!”

      For an instant, the world went black. She was very still. СКАЧАТЬ