So far, they had seen none of the slaves and Treel suspected the humans had been alerted to their presence and had retreated to the fifth, outermost square. He liked the thought of the humans retreating before them and felt the faint stirrings of pleasure that came to him with each battle. The humans were not fighters but their blood smelled just as sweet as any other animal's. Many Minith warriors were driven in battle by the cries of their prey; some enjoyed the fear of their opponents. But for Treel, there was no greater pleasure on any world he had ever visited – and there were many – like the smell of fresh blood.
The darkness gave way to light as Treel and the three teams he now led reached the East-facing doorway that led into the open space between the Second and Third Square buildings. The other six teams were divided into groups of two teams each, with each group assigned to take either the North-, South- or West-facing doorways. Treel ordered his soldiers to wait inside the doorway while he contacted the other three groups.
When he received news that all were in place, he considered the next move. He still felt that the slaves were cowering in the further areas of the prison but he could not ignore the possibility that he was being led into a trap. Their force was divided and the further they entered the prison, the more separated they would become. Already it would be difficult to reach any of the other groups if they were attacked.
"Treel, why are we waiting?" Lieutenant Groft, another of the team leaders expressed his impatience. Treel considered reprimanding Groft for his impertinence but realized that the other lieutenant was speaking for the group. A quick glance at the leathered faces around him showed Treel that they were all anxious for the killing to begin.
Treel took a breath and conceded that he was being overly cautious – not a good trait for a Minith leader who wanted to remain a leader. Groft would no doubt enjoy taking over should Treel show bad judgment and, as a lieutenant also, would be well within his bounds to do so. All it would take was for a majority of the soldiers to agree that the move was necessary to accomplish their mission. Treel did not plan to allow that to happen.
He reached for the radio.
"Forces, forward," he ordered.
* * *
Titan looked down on the Minith soldiers with mixed feelings of excitement and anger. The excitement came from knowing that, in just a few seconds, the foul beings below him would meet up with the wrong end of human vengeance.
The anger was more complex. He hated the aliens with every fiber of his being. These aliens had enslaved his world and his race. They controlled the world with threats of death, and demanded that its population labor to meet their quotas for resources and wealth. Resources that they stole and sent to another planet. But it was more than just the slavery. It was the needless killing of a race not able to defend itself that most angered Titan. They killed for sport. They killed out of boredom. They killed to send a message: do what we want or more of you will be killed. Yes, his anger was justified and so was the violence that would soon follow.
From a very young age, Titan knew he was different from those around him. Unlike most of his race, he did not abhor violence. He did not turn away from intentional slights or blatant injustices just for the purpose of Peace. When he saw a wrong, he wanted to right it. If that meant someone needed to get hurt, so be it. As a young child, there were few children his age in the sub-farm where his family worked. As a result, he often tagged along behind his brother, Stefan, and Stefan’s group of six or seven friends when he could. He never played their games or joined their conversations; the five years that separated them made him a barely tolerated irritant to the older boys. But he did not need to actively participate in their activities; he was content to just be around Stefan.
He was five when one of his bother’s friends, an eleven year old named Jerald, started complaining to Stefan.
“He’s always hanging around Stefan. How are we going to have any fun with your baby brother hanging around?”
At first, Stefan just shook his head and ignored Jerald. But as the weeks went by, and Jerald’s complaints increased, others in the group began parroting Jerald’s demands. Eventually, Stefan had no choice. He gave in to the pressure from the group and told Titan to stop following them. Even at his young age, Titan understood. And he complied.
It was a week after being told to keep his distance when he came across the group of boys, playing in one of the apple orchards that were part of their sub-farm. Titan had no idea his brother’s group was going to be there. He had just wanted an apple. He entered the orchard, plucked an apple from the closest tree and was turning to leave when Jerald stepped in front of him.
“I thought you weren’t going to follow us any more?”
Titan looked up at Jerald, unsure of what to say. He hadn’t been following them, he just wanted an apple. He looked to Stefan for assistance, but his brother stood off to one side, looking at the ground.
“Well? What are you doing here?”
“Just wanted an apple.”
“Well, these are our apples and you can’t have any.” Jerald snatched the apple from the younger boy’s hand. Wiped it on his shirt and took a bite.
Stefan’s explanation to their parents that evening described the scene accurately. Jerald’s bloody nose and two black eyes were a result of his younger brother standing up for himself. The circumstances, however, did not mitigate the consequences. Titan was subjected to psychological re-training for the first time. It wasn’t the last.
Titan had performed well in the beat-or-be-beaten environment that existed within these squares of stone. Despite the rumors to the contrary, he wasn’t a monster. He didn’t start out looking to mete out violence. He just believed that violence was sometimes necessary and he was not averse to using it.
He viewed this situation in the same light. These alien monsters had his world in chains and he had been called upon to do away with them. The monsters thirty feet below him certainly deserved whatever punishment they received. And they will receive a lot, Titan thought as the aliens neared the center of the open area between the Second and Third Square buildings.
The trap had been set up exactly as planned by Grant. When the Minith landed inside the Inner Square, Titan and his soldiers had ascended to the tops of the four inner squares and remained still. The plan called for the men and women of the prison to wait quietly for the alien force to move between the Second and Third Squares and then attack. Unlike the aliens below, Titan had a clear view of all of his own forces. From the top of the Second Square, he could see the tops of the other squares as well as the people stationed on them. The attack would be concentrated between the square he occupied and the third, but reserves had been placed on the First and Fourth Squares in case some of the aliens below escaped the initial trap and tried to escape.
Grant had used the phrase 'like shooting fish in a barrel' but Titan had not understood what he had meant. Now, as the aliens made their way across the clearing, Titan understood clearly. The Minith soldiers, although well trained and heavily armed, had little hope. There was no cover for them to take once the battle began.
Titan held up a hand, the signal to get ready, to the men and women on his right and left. He looked across the open space to the top of the Third Square to make sure the soldiers stationed there saw him also. He hoped no one would jump the signal because of nerves, the alien soldiers needed to reach the center of the open space for the trap to be fully effective. Titan held his breath and waited with his hand still held high.
"Just a few more steps," he whispered to himself.
* * *
Treel stopped and dropped to one knee. The Minith soldiers behind him did likewise. Unsure if his ears were playing tricks on him, Treel searched the doorway of the next building for signs of human presence. His senses were heightened by the totally unexpected nature of the situation. They had searched nearly half of the human prison without any s
ign of humans.
"Groft," Treel muttered softly, so that only the Minith around him could hear. "Did you hear anything just now?"
Lieutenant Groft cocked his head, listening for the faintest of sounds. He thought he had heard something, but it was very brief and he could not be certain. He said as much to Treel.
Treel, wary now, searched the doorway that they had just left but saw nothing there. Almost as an afterthought, Treel looked up at the top of the building they had just left and, shocked, saw a human with his arm in the air. Treel keyed his radio as the man's arm flashed downward.
"Forces, back!" Treel shouted as the first shot rang out.
Titan fired his weapon before his arm completed its downward motion and felt satisfaction as his bullet struck one of the large, green aliens below. The elation he felt at shooting one of the Minith quickly erased the initial concern he had felt when one of them had spotted him. The aliens had not quite reached the center of the open space, but they were still vulnerable enough to the hail of fire that was rained upon them. Between shots, Titan took note of the alien soldiers dropping at an incredible rate. Now, only a few seconds after the trap had been sprung, over half the alien force was down. The rest were trying to make it back to the Second Square building while firing an occasional, wild shot at the human soldiers on the building.
The sound of the explosive rounds being fired from the tops of two buildings was a deafening shock to his system. Titan had no idea that war sounded so thunderous, but it helped to confuse the aliens below. The smoke and the smell from the rounds also hung in the air and added to the surreal sense of chaos that he observed.
It was over quickly and the shooting slowed to a trickle. Stopped completely as no further targets presented themselves.
Only three of the aliens below Titan made it to the relative safety of the Second Square building. The rest lay in the space below, dead or dying. So much carnage. The ground was covered with the purple, alien blood.
"All right," Titan yelled across the space to the men and women on the Third Square. "Keep them pinned! Don't let them come back out of that door!" He got an acknowledging wave and several whoops and shouts of triumph in return.
"The rest of you," Titan ordered to those men and women around him, "back to the other side of the square. We cannot let them reach the carriers at the Inner Square."
Titan checked with Pound and the other three group leaders on the Second Square. Pound's group and one of the others had allowed none of the aliens to escape. Only four aliens from the fourth doorway found their way back into the building. In all, of the hundred or so aliens who had entered Violent's Prison, only seven remained.
And they cannot last inside the confines of this building forever, Titan mused.
"Pound!" Titan called to the former leader of the Outer Square. "You are in charge, now. Do you know what to do?"
Titan knew Pound was capable of rooting out the remaining alien soldiers and eliminating them.
"What? Of course, but where are you going?"
Titan smiled and turned toward the Inner Square.. "I'm going to see if our friend Grant needs help."
"Titan!" The unexpected voice caught the giant man by surprise and he turned to face its owner.
"What are you doing here?" he asked.
"I asked Pound if I could come," Avery answered defiantly. She acted as if she expected Titan to argue. He knew her well enough to steer clear of that mistake.
"Very well," he answered. Titan knew what she wanted now and was not about to permit it. "But you are not going with me to the Minith ship."
"But, Titan, I can---"
"No," he said simply but with an authority that Avery recognized as unshakable. "You will stay here."
Her shoulders sagged but she quickly gathered herself. "Very well then. But do one thing for me."
Titan raised his eyebrows, slightly amused that she had accepted his refusal so readily.
"Certainly, what is it?"
She reached out, grabbed his hand, and squeezed tightly. "Do not allow anything to happen to Grant. Make sure he comes back to me."
Titan knew he could not make such a promise and expect to keep it. He was new to the machinations of war but not so new to its concept that he could expect to save a man like Grant Justice if the winds of fate that blew across the battlefield chose to take him. He knew it was impossible to guarantee any man's safety on a battlefield.
But he made the promise anyway.
Fifteen minutes later, he and two carriers of the prisoner’s soldiers were on their way to the Minith ship. Unlike Grant and his flight, Titan wasted no time attempting to conceal their origin or destination.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
"Now what, Grant?" Mouse asked.
They entered the ship through the launch bay and stood next to the Minith spacecraft they had seen entering the larger ship an hour before. The entry port had been left open, probably to permit the craft's speedy departure, or in expectation of the return of the carrier vehicles that had been sent to the prison. Whatever the reason, Grant accepted the good fortune with a disbelieving shake of the head. It seemed as though these creatures would never learn to lock all of their doors. The outer portals had been secured against another entry into the ship, but the large portal had been left wide open.
"First, we go to the Zone. Then we find the heart of the ship – the command and control room."
Grant took the map that Avery had made for them out of his pack and spread it on the polished metallic floor of the launching area. It took a few seconds for Grant to align it with their current position but Avery's blind drawings were very good and he quickly had their position identified. He referred to the drawing several times while comparing it to what he could see of the ship from where they were. Within moments, he had their path through the alien ship planned and everyone was briefed.
"Okay, follow close," Grant said as he folded the map and returned it to his pack.
"I don't know who or what we'll run into, but keep your eyes open and make as little noise as possible. We made it past the outer sensors, now we have to make it past their own ears and eyes." He checked his weapon and moved the firing selector button from the 'safe' position. The others did the same.
"Keep close and be careful. We don't want any of our folks getting killed. Just the other assholes." Grant made eye contact with every member of the party. "Any questions?"
No one had any and they began their journey deeper into the alien ship.
* * *
Lieutenant Treel leaned against the wall. He placed a hand against his shoulder to stem the flow of purple blood that seeped from the hole the human weapon had created. The pressure against the wound had an immediate effect and the seeping flow slowed to a mere trickle. He looked around the dark interior of the building and made out the shapes of only two of his comrades.
The humans had led them into a trap!
No, he amended. I led us into a trap.
The flow of blood soon stopped and within minutes the wound closed entirely. Having taken care of himself, he crawled over to the doorway and peered outside. The act nearly cost him his life as one of the humans on the opposite roof put a bullet into the doorframe not ten inches from his head. He jerked back into the darkened building but not before he saw his soldiers lying in the clearing outside. Several were moving but shots were being taken and Treel knew they would not be moving for long. He confirmed this with another look from well within the protection of the doorway.
He could do nothing for those outside and turned his attention to the two Minith inside the building with him. Groft and one of the newer soldiers were lying unmoving and a quick check by Treel found Groft barely alive, though not for much longer, he guessed. The other trooper was already dead from a severe stomach wound and Treel wondered how the soldier had made it back into the building.
"Groft, can you hear me?" Treel knelt beside the other soldier and noticed the wounds that st
itched the length of his left side. The body fought to stop the bleeding and close the wounds but Treel knew it would not react in time.
"Groft?" Groft opened his eyes and looked weakly at Treel.
"You. . . you were... right, Treel. We. . . should have..."
Groft had no time to finish his sentence. His body gave up its last hold on life. Treel moved away from his fallen comrades and shook his head. They had seriously underestimated these humans. They were not sheep at all. To use an old human saying, they were wolves in sheep's clothing.
Treel considered his next moves carefully. Retreat to the carriers was his only hope for returning to the ship, but that possibility seemed remote at best. If these humans were intelligent enough to plan such a trap, they would not have left an escape open. He wondered if any of the other three groups had been attacked and a quick check of the radio brought him nothing but silence.
"Damn!" Unwilling to sit still and be hunted down, he checked his weapon and began to move through the building toward the other doors. It was possible that some of the others had been spared. He hurried, certain that the humans would not permit him to live long now that they had him trapped inside.
An hour later, he neared the last of the four doorways and approached the dimly lit area with caution. Checks of the other doors had revealed only the sprawled corpses of Minith soldiers in the open area between the second and third buildings. None of those soldiers had made it back to the doorway and he began to consider what his chances for survival would have been if he had not seen the human before the firing had begun. This final doorway was his only hope to find some of his comrades alive.
As if in answer to his hopes, he saw a movement ahead and recognized the unmistakable uniform of the Minith Earth Forces.
"Troopers!" he blurted, no longer feeling alone. He rushed forward to greet his fellow soldiers.
He was brought up short by a sound behind him and he turned to face the noise. Treel saw a brief glint of steel before a white light exploded and he crumpled to the ground.
* * *