“Yeah… Sargon, put the grate back and seal it with your belcher. Melt it closed.”

  He knelt and went to work. Brilliant light and smoke flared up from the tip of his weapon. Soon, the grate and the pipe were fused together.

  “That might hold… or it might not,” Sargon said.

  “Let’s move out,” I ordered.

  Everyone hustled through the field of odd plants. Lacking direction, we headed for the only building that was nearby. It was weird-looking, a round structure that slanted up on the sides.

  “Looks like a bunt cake,” Gary commented.

  “I hate cake,” Harris said. “Who’s going to scout that structure, Centurion?”

  I halted and eyed my crew. There weren’t all that many of us… we couldn’t spare anyone. I pointed at Gary. “Take two lights and knock on the door.”

  “Seriously?”

  Harris laughed. “Is that a piss-stain I see on your fancy armor, Adjunct?”

  He gave Harris a sour glance, then slapped two recruits. He did this decisively, just as I would have done. The man was teachable.

  The trio trotted to what looked like an entrance. We all saw the door spring open as he approached. Gary tried to play kiss-ass with the Mogwa at the door. He bowed and talked expansively.

  In response, a gout of blue fire hit him in the belly. He was knocked flat, and the door was thrown closed.

  Harris laughed until his gut hurt. Gary climbed painfully to his feet. He wasn’t seriously injured due to his tough armor, but his pride had been stung. He walked away in defeat.

  Sargon came near, and his belcher rode his shoulder. He looked purposeful. “Shall we light-up this farmer’s shack, sir?”

  “What? Hell, no! We’re supposed to be rescuing these people, remember?”

  Sargon retreated, and Kivi took his place. “Centurion, I’ve been trying to reach someone—anyone—on the public grid. I’m being ignored and cut off. You have to have a password or something to get access to any kind of communications. We probably look like invaders to them.”

  “Damn that Sateekas,” I complained. “He just had to lead the attack and get his battlecruiser smashed-up. If he hadn’t been forced to run off, he could have told these people we’re friends, not enemy troops.”

  No one argued with my logic, they just looked glum. Unsure of what to do, we stood around approximately a hundred meters from the farmer’s home. We could have blown the place up and killed him, sure, but that wouldn’t have accomplished anything like “making peaceful contact” with the Mogwa.

  I realized about then that we’d come here without much of a plan of action. Sure, we knew we had to get under the dome in order to make contact with this splinter colony of Mogwa, but now that we’d met up with one of them, we didn’t have a clue as to how to establish a meaningful dialog.

  Kivi, Carlos and Harris all made unhelpful suggestions as to how to proceed. I took off my helmet and gave my head a scratch. It was quite a mess we were in.

  Before we could think of anything intelligent to do, a strange-looking truck came trundling down the road from the city. It never touched the road, and it didn’t fly higher than a meter off the ground. The air under the truck was kind of blurry and wavering. It ran on antigrav plates as far as I could tell.

  “Who’s that?” Harris demanded, pointing and crouching lower among the plants.

  “I don’t know…” I said. There was something purposeful about the vehicle. Someone official. “Everyone hide in the flowers until we see what’s what.”

  Sargon had his belcher out again, and I didn’t complain this time. After all, this truck looked like it could be dangerous. The exterior was all flat planes of metal. There weren’t any windows or even a windshield to see through. It could have been an armored assault vehicle.

  My weaponeers naturally wanted to blow it up, but I ordered them to stand down. Soldiers weren’t the best diplomats in the world.

  We watched as the truck came down the road at speed. It didn’t seem like the driver was in a friendly mood. The vehicle stopped in front of the farmer’s door, and two Mogwa got out. The farmer opened his door promptly and pointed out into the fields—directly at us.

  All three of the Mogwa looked in our direction, and they produced some odd-looking gear. Then they approached the field we were squatting in.

  It took me a moment to recognize what they were carrying. They were shock-sticks with nooses hanging from the tips.

  -31-

  Harris was alarmed. “Uh… McGill? Are we going to let these dog-catchers round us up and put us in that truck, or are we going to shoot them?”

  I blinked at him for a second, then I laughed. He was right. They were dog-catchers—or slave-catchers. Something like that.

  I’d been to Trantor, the Mogwa homeworld, just once. That was many years back. They’d been big on collars for humans back then. They hadn’t been keen on the idea of us wearing clothes, either. They saw all aliens as animals. We were chattel to be owned and kicked around at will.

  “Put your weapons down,” I ordered the group. “Stand around and look dumb.”

  “Seriously?” Harris asked, disgusted. “That’s our plan? To get captured by these losers? I could kill all three with a piece of pipe.”

  I knew he was probably right. I’d seen humans tangle with Mogwa in hand-to-hand combat in the past. The Galactics had never stood a chance. They were physically weak and generally poor fighters. If they had vehicles or starships, sure, they could give us some real trouble. But just walking around with shock-sticks? No, that wasn’t going to cut it.

  “Drop your weapons and look docile, dammit,” I ordered.

  Reluctantly, my troops finally listened. The Mogwa continued to approach cautiously.

  The leader came near and used his foot-hand things to gesture furiously. He seemed to want me to step forward and put my head in the noose hanging off his shock-stick.

  With a sigh, I walked up and turned on my translation app. Fortunately, these guys spoke Imperial standard. They had an accent, but it was understandable to my tapper.

  “Beast-leader,” the Mogwa leader said. “Approach and be neutralized.”

  “Hey, your overlordship. It’s great to meet you. I’m a legionnaire from Earth.”

  All three of the Mogwa reeled back in horror. “Improper! Foulness! Beasts should not speak the high language!”

  “Uh… I think there’s a misunderstanding. We’re here to help. Grand Admiral Sateekas brought us here. We have thousands of troops outside your dome, ready to fight for your safety.”

  That was too much for the Mogwa. My words only seemed to make them angry. The leader trundled up and extended his shock-stick in my direction. He shook it at me.

  “Place your upper protuberance into this noose. I don’t know what beast-collector you might have escaped from, but you will be controlled and then disciplined.”

  “My upper protuberance? Do you mean my head?”

  “Yes, ignoramus. I command you. I demand instant and total obedience.”

  This was usually the way things went with any Galactic. They were as predictable as they were arrogant.

  “Look sirs, we don’t mean any harm. We need to talk to your military commanders. We’re a military force, and we’re trying to help you guys.”

  “Your words and your very existence are offensive enough. I demand obedience. Will you comply, or will you be abused?”

  Heaving a heavy sigh, I walked forward and let the leader Mogwa try to drop the noose over my neck. It crackled with power, and I knew I couldn’t let him do as he wished.

  With a grunt, I yanked the stick out of his hands and dropped it in the field. I then walked another step forward, standing heavily on the stick. It cracked and stopped sparkling.

  “What’s this? You’ve destroyed my device!”

  “What? Oh… I’m real sorry about that, sir. I didn’t understand. We’re off-worlders, see. We don’t—”

  My bullshit didn’t get me very far. The second Mogwa dog-catcher had circled around on my six and was trying to get his noose into position.

  Harris intervened. I hadn’t told him to act, but he took the initiative. He yanked the stick out of the second Mogwa’s hands and broke it over his knee. Then he tossed it back at the owner. The stick still seemed to have some juice in it, because it sparked once, sending the Mogwa skittering like a dog with his tail on fire.

  My men laughed. They couldn’t help it.

  That was enough for the three Mogwa. Shaking with rage and fear, they raced away toward the truck. They all piled in and sped away.

  I turned on my troops, glaring at them. “That could have gone better.”

  “It was funny as hell,” Harris said. “You’ve got to admit that.”

  Throwing an arm up and pointing after the retreating truck, I shouted at all of them. “They’ll come back with marines. You know that, don’t you?”

  Harris shrugged. “Isn’t that what we wanted? We made contact. That’s all we’re supposed to do. We found the way in here, and we met with the Mogwa. I say our mission is a success.”

  I glared at him for a bit, but then I started blinking and thinking it over. Harris had a point.

  “I like it,” I said at last. “Let’s go back and report in. We’ve done what we set out to do. Let’s give this bag of shit back to Winslade.”

  Taking video of everything we could, we marched back to the culvert we’d come from and burned our way back inside. We were worried that the drone mini-tanks might be lurking down there, but we didn’t meet up with them.

  Hurrying back the way we’d come, we quickly exited the dome and stood in the open again. I was the first to contact Winslade.

  Once he answered my transmissions, I gave him the short version of what we’d done. Even with a lot of candy and lipstick slathered on top of my story, he didn’t like it very much.

  “McGill, are you telling me you assaulted Galactic officials in the pursuit of their duty? Again?”

  “Uh… no sir. Not exactly. It was just a couple of dog-catchers and a farmer. There weren’t any duchesses or archdukes around.”

  “That’s not the point, McGill. You were supposed to establish a diplomatic channel. You weren’t supposed to upset them, or challenge their authority in any way.”

  “Well sir, if you want tea ceremonies and top hats, you sent in the wrong man.”

  Winslade began to pace on my tapper. “Evidently… All right, what’s done is done. I’m uncertain concerning my next move. My instinct is to retreat from this fresh disaster and hope it will all be forgotten when the Mogwa finally let us into their dome.”

  “Who’s going to negotiate that miracle?”

  He flapped a hand at me. “That’s none of my affair. I shouldn’t have sent you in there in the first place. In truth, I didn’t think you’d manage to find a way in.”

  I grinned at him. “Well sir, you thought wrong. I’ll tell you what, I’ll just report this up the line. There’s got to be an imperator or an equestrian who will know what to do.”

  Winslade showed me his teeth. “You’ll do no such thing. I will report it, and you will stay silent. Standby.”

  The screen on my tapper went dark, and I grinned, waiting patiently. It didn’t take very long, because I’d already sent a message to several of Winslade’s superiors. Everyone in the legion had given up on communications blackouts. They’d realized they weren’t doing us any good.

  Transmitting the contents of my call to Winslade to everyone, even Legion Victrix, I had nothing more to do but stand around and grin. The calls soon began coming in to my tapper in a torrent.

  First up on the roster was Primus Collins. She looked shocked. “Centurion McGill…? You’re inside the dome? And you’re alive?”

  “Last I checked, Primus, sir. I’m doing fine. We’re out in the east quadrant—”

  “Shut up. I need you to tell me what happened when you talked to the Mogwa. Is there any chance that… ? Hold on—I’ve got another call.” She frowned at her tapper and looked concerned. She put me on hold, but she forgot to turn off her camera.

  I watched as she manufactured a pleasant, business-like expression. She spoke to someone, and her face crumbled. At last, she cinched up her pretty mouth into a tight pink rosebud. She nodded, as if being shouted at. Then, she merged up the two calls.

  I saw Drusus on one half of the screen and Collins on the other. I smiled at them both, and the truth was I was as pleased as punch to have them both on the line at once.

  “McGill? It was you?” Drusus demanded. “Oh my God… how many Mogwa did you murder? Were there any children involved?”

  Blinking and frowning, I felt my jaw drop. “No sir, you’ve got the wrong idea. I went in as a diplomat, not a marauder.”

  “But you must have killed someone. Right?”

  “No sir!” I said, slapping my right hand over my heart. “I swear it before the Almighty. I’ll send you my suit-vid if you want proof.”

  “All right, I’ll review that later. There’s no time now. The enemy invasion ships will be landing shortly. Just tell me how you got inside.”

  “Uh… enemy invasion ships? What’s that about? I thought tugs were coming to drop more asteroids or something.”

  “No. We saw ships up there, and some theorized that’s what they were—but we’ve since gotten better intelligence. Assault ships are coming down from orbit. They’ll be on the ground within hours.”

  I chewed that over, and I didn’t like the taste of it any more than Drusus did. Our forces were trapped outside the domed city, and we would eventually be short on supplies. There was no fleet on our side to destroy these invaders. We’d be caught fighting them out in the wastelands.

  “Huh…” I said. “That does put a different light on things. I can understand now why all the brass are answering my tapper calls tonight.”

  “So far as I know, your unit is the only force that’s been able to penetrate that dome. Now, for the last time, how did you do it?”

  I told him then, and it was a tale to be remembered. Instead of a sordid affair trudging through sewers and running from drone tanks, my version of the story was one of heroism and ingenuity.

  Drusus suspected I was laying it on thick, but he didn’t seem to care much. He wanted the essentials, and he managed to glean them from my bullshit.

  “So… you backtracked the drones to their logical exit from the dome and forced your way inside. What are the welcoming Mogwa forces like?”

  “Uh… the what, sir?”

  “The Mogwa officers you mentioned—or whoever it was you met with inside the dome. Did they offer you any promises about allowing the rest of us inside?”

  “Oh… uh… no,” I said, and I scratched at my neck. I was suddenly itchy, and I was wishing I hadn’t told such a glowing tale a moment ago. “The city defenders can’t drop the dome, see. They said we have to all go in the same way I did.”

  “Seriously? Tens of thousands of troops are supposed to wriggle through a tunnel? Even the Blood Worlders?”

  I shrugged helplessly. “The Mogwa aren’t always a reasonable people, sir.”

  “No… no, they’re not.” Drusus sighed in defeat. “All right. I’ll spread the word. We’ll get every man inside that we can. There must be more of these ditches buried in the landscape. We’ve certainly seen enough drone-tanks to support the existence of a dozen such secret entrances. All right, I’m getting off this call. Collins, you and Winslade know what to do. Drusus out.”

  He vanished, and Primus Collins, who’d wisely been listening quietly this whole time, regarded me with suspicion. “McGill, you aren’t bullshitting this whole thing up out of nothing, are you?”

  “No sir! I got into that dome, and I can get more troops in there the same way. I am kind of worried about the Blood-Worlders, however. They’re too damned big to fit in those pipes. They’ll have to crawl on their hands and knees.”

  “Don’t worry about that. Now that we’ve pinpointed the coordinates of one of those entrances, we’re sending engineering teams to swarm the location. We’ll dig in and shorten the tunnel to a minimum length.”

  “Oh… heh… that’s great.” I tried to sound enthusiastic, but I think I failed.

  Fortunately, Collins didn’t seem to notice. She soon dropped the call, and I was off the hook for further explanations.

  I was slightly concerned that when they did finally get inside… well... I didn’t think they were going to get the warm reception they were hoping for. But that was someone else’s problem at this point, so I tried not to think about it.

  -32-

  After crawling out of the sewers and giving my reports, I considered myself to be a modern day hero. To my mind, I’d saved the lives of four legions worth of troops, and I deserved some R&R—but that wasn’t in the cards for old McGill.

  I was, in fact, marching my ragtag group back toward the rear lines when my tapper started talking to me.

  “McGill? What are you doing?”

  It was Graves this time. He’d apparently called my tapper and forced it to answer.

  The fact he was calling me at all only slightly surprised me. He’d been certain to make any revival list, as he was an important person and all.

  “Hello, Primus, sir! Great to hear from you. Are you calling to congratulate me?”

  Graves’ face twisted up. “Hardly. I’ll congratulate you when our troops are safely on the inside of that dome.”

  “Oh… okay. That won’t be long, take my word for it. So… what’s this call about then, sir?”

  “I saw your unit moving away from the dome, and I wanted to know what the hell you were up to.”

  “Uh… I thought maybe we’d have time for a hot meal and maybe a few hours of shuteye before we went back inside the—”

  “Forget it. Do an about-face and help the engineering crews pinpoint the site. After they’ve done their work, you’ll function as a guide. We’re on a time-schedule here, McGill. This isn’t a vacation.”

  “Don’t I know it…” I said, but I was talking to a blank screen. He’d cut the call short.