Night Song (The Guild Wars Book 9) by Mark Wandrey (best ereader under 100 .txt) 📕

“Then they are at least prisoners. You may hope as much. The Pushtal are like Tortantula or Besquith, I fear; they enjoy killing more than profit.”

“I’m amazed you’ve kept this facility and your guild a secret for so long,” Alan said.

The Zuparti gave a tiny smile again. “We have been careful. We’ve had to be careful, as we are not a merc race, and despite the vast wealth the Astatine-222 mine provides us, it is small in scale. A massive assault would make us vulnerable.”

“It would make anyone vulnerable,” Alan mused. Ifka heard him and nodded his pointy head in agreement. “So that’s why the Cartography Guild came with just a bunch of Pushtal? They don’t want anyone else to know?” Ifka gave a half nod, then Alan wondered, I bet the Vergola were thinking about how easy it would be to liquidate the Pushtal after they’d taken the mine. After all, who’d really miss them? Which made him wonder about their status.

The Lumar were no threat to the Zuparti. Bloody hell, most days the Lumar were more dangerous to themselves than anyone else. The Lumar were over two meters tall, with big, broad chests and four arms. They could be mistaken for a Human on a dark night, except their heads were more rounded, they were all thick and muscular brutes, and their darker skin was more akin to an Australian bushman.

“Guildmaster,” Alan began, “we want to go home. What can I do to get us there?”

“And get paid, I’m sure,” Ifka added.

“Of course, that goes without saying.” Alan was less concerned about the pay than bringing his people home, but there was no need to make his negotiating position weaker.

“Give me an hour to finish this meeting,” Ifka said, gesturing to the other Zuparti who was holding the slate, looking at the two Humans with eyes narrowed.

They don’t like us, Alan thought. Well, the feeling is mutual, since you kidnapped us. “No problem,” he said aloud and turned to Jill. “Why don’t you take me to the barracks and fill me in on our force status.” She nodded and gestured to one of the other doors in the command center.

The big, fancy buildings near the starport, where the Zuparti had their operation, turned out to be the best in the facility. After a series of well-lit corridors leading to different offices, housing, and industrial areas, Jill let him into a tunnel that had been clearly cut with a laser, and only simply finished afterward.

“We going into the mountain?” he asked Jill.

“No, we’re just cutting through a hill. Some of this used to be the test mines sunk into the planet, God knows how long ago.” They passed a heavy door with a standard Union green warning sign for danger. “One of the bore shafts is in there. It goes down kilometers into this rock to where they found the stuff.”

“If Astatine-222 is the key to hyperspace travel, this place must be really old.”

“Yeah, it seems old. But I don’t know if it’s a hundred thousand years old. Of course, there might be other mines on the planet. I got the impression from Ifka the Zuparti got this mine somehow, and they don’t want to let it go.”

“I can only guess how valuable it is,” Alan said as Jill led them onward. “How much of that Astatine do they haul out?”

“Don’t know,” Jill said. “They were under siege by the time we were drawn in. I know there are pallets and pallets of it over in the warehouses, but not how much is in each box. Could be 100 kilograms, could be a few grams.”

“The whole setup smell like a dunny,” Alan said, shaking his head. “Stinks. So, what’s our force level stand at?”

“We have three companies and a platoon remaining,” Jill said.

Alan almost tripped, coming to a shocked stop. His jaw dropped in surprise.

“Yeah, you bring us back up to a battalion. We’ve been bleeding pretty regularly. The Lumar just aren’t up to a stand-up fight. They can hold the rear, and that’s about it.”

“An entire platoon gone?” Alan asked, unable to bring himself to understand—to fully accept—that 20 of his men were gone.

“Well, not all dead, no. Sorry, I need to be more specific. We lost 22 CASPers and nine drivers. We have more men than suits.”

“Nine dead is much better than 20,” Alan said.

They’d reached a door, a lot like an airlock, separating the rough-hewn tunnel from a new section. It opened automatically as Jill and Alan approached, then cycled quickly once they’d entered. He looked at it curiously.

“I don’t know either,” Jill said, and shrugged.

On the other side a pair of Lumar were standing a casual guard duty. They looked up at the pair with dim eyes, then gave the sloppiest salute Alan had ever seen.

“We hears da Human commander is here,” one said. “More fighting is good!”

“Yeah, good!” the other agreed.

“At ease, men,” Alan said. The two nodded and went back to whatever conversation they were having. The corridor here more closely resembled the ones near the command center. There were doors leading in both directions with programmable signs. One read, “Big Strong Fist,” and the other, “Silent Night.”

“Lumar company names are so creative,” Jill said with a chuckle.

Alan nodded; he remembered serving on contracts Lumar were involved in several times, and all of those Lumar outfits were Fist this or Strong that. He shrugged. They were loyal and dependable; just don’t ever expect tactical acumen or leadership from them.

Just as they were heading for the door with his company name on it, the Lumar door opened, and a figure glanced at them. It looked like any other Lumar, but was maybe 2/3 the bulk. The Lumar mercs typically only