Guerilla by Mel Odom Page B

attempted to kill him.
    Zhoh rubbed his primary hands together as he remembered killing Yuburack. The chitin claws grated against each other. The lieutenant had been the first being Zhoh had dispatched since being called up on review and his assignment to Makaum. He thought about that for a time, remembered the taste of Yuburack as he’d eaten his conquered foe. There was no greater satisfaction than excreting a vanquished opponent onto a dunghill. There was not enough combat on Makaum. Yet.
    The Terran sergeant was a worthy foe. Sage had proven himself in battle against the DawnStar drug traffickers. The man’s bravery in standing up against Velesko Kos had been impressive. Soon, Zhoh knew, his and Sage’s paths would cross, and that would be the end of the sergeant. Zhoh trusted that.
    However, Zhoh set his sights on a greater game. Perhaps General Rangha believed himself untouchable in his present position, too well dug in to be unseated by an ambitious underofficer because of his family’s history. Zhoh didn’t acknowledge that. Nor would he acknowledge that. A warrior made his own history, and lannig changed everything.
    The submersible’s command section held the four crewmen. The pilot and copilot, the navigator, and the comm officer occupied large chairs in the nose of the craft. Computer projections hung in the air before them and revealed the river’s depth, width, and speed in various colors. They cruised at a depth of five meters below the surface and stayed ten meters above the river bottom.
    Rangha’s base of operations was well thought out. Zhoh conceded that. But it also left the general cut off from the main strength of the warriors. Rangha had not been visible at the legitimate Phrenorian enterprises the Makaum Quass had allowed. Zhoh believed a leader should always be front and center, leading his warriors into battle and spending time with them every day.
    This was something Zhoh realized he shared with the Terran sergeant.
    Despite his current situation, balanced precariously on a sword’s edge between command and contempt, Zhoh remained in front of his warriors. They knew who he was and what he stood for. In spite of his wife’s father’s efforts to undermine his command—­and to have his life taken—­Zhoh had gained support when he’d stood up against the DawnStar bashhounds.
    Zhoh enjoyed that memory, and he started planning how to build on that. He opened a comm link to the submersible commander. “Commander.”
    â€œYes, Captain Zhoh?”
    â€œHow long will our voyage last?”
    â€œWe’ll stay with the river for another three hours, Captain. Then we’ll deliver you to a group of warriors who have overseen harvesting efforts in the jungle not far from the sprawl.”
    â€œWhat will you do after you see to my delivery?”
    â€œI can’t tell you that, sir. General’s orders.”
    Zhoh ignored the affront because he knew it didn’t come from the man. He turned his thoughts to Rangha. Before he could form a plan of action, Zhoh needed more information about the general. He opened a private comm link to Mato Orayva, his second-­in-­command, and sent a ping.
    Mato wasn’t just a junior officer and eager for advancement through the ranks, he was also part of Zhoh’s family spyrl. He was young and hungry, wishing to earn glory and advancement through bravery and battle. Getting sent to Makaum hadn’t set well with him either. Like Zhoh, Mato believed he was destined for greater things. Zhoh knew that, properly counseled, Mato would reach his desired position.
    Another warrior’s need to excel was a weapon in the hands of the right superior officer. Zhoh knew how to be that officer, and Rangha had made the situation easier by spilling his dislike of Zhoh over onto his second-­in-­command.
    Before the comm connection was made, a warning light flared to life on the navigation