Scorched Earth: (The Human Chronicles Saga Book #16) by T.R. Harris

or bad, this is what he lived for, had trained for. He let that training and instinct take over.
    “Rocky to Apollo Creed, come in Apollo.”
    Adam looked at Riyad askew. “Where the hell did that come from?”
    “It’s a code, stupid, something the Juireans won’t recognize.”
    “No shit. I know it’s a code. Just why that one?”
    “It’s better than Bambi to Thumper, come in Thumper.”
    “That I’ll give you. Stick with Rocky and Apollo.”
     
    ********
     
    Adam stationed the Mark VII four light minutes from the planet. The comm unit was a traditional radio, not a wormhole type device, so its signals could only travel at light speed. Even this far out, they would be visible from any planet-based detectors, and the one drawback of the jump-drive was they could never go fully dark. There was always a some residual energy signal coming from the various generators and battery packs onboard.
    So as Riyad tried to make contact with the two Humans on the surface, Adam kept a close lookout for any approaching warships.
    “Eh, this is Apollo, I guess,” came a questioning voice over the bridge speakers. It was Sergeant Travis Morgan.
    Riyad leaned in close to the console. “Travis, it’s Riyad.”
    “Yessir, I recognized your voice. Why the code? We’ve been broadcasting for a couple of weeks and so far no one has come looking for us.”
    “Just a precaution, sergeant. Is Paulson with you?”
    “He’ll be back in about fifteen minutes. He’s out scouting the palace again. Is Captain Cain with you?”
    Adam took over the conversation. “I’m here, Travis. The two of you have done a remarkable job. Where are you?”
    “We came down off the mountain and now we’re hiding in the woods near the palace. That’s where the Juireans have set up their headquarters, and where Sherri and Arieel were taken.”
    “So they’re still there?” Adam’s heart leapt. He didn’t want to admit it, but he’d been expecting them to have already been moved—or dead—by the time he arrived.
    “As far as we can tell, although we haven’t actually seen them. We were about four hours behind the Juireans getting here, after finding out about the admiral. Also, we haven’t been able to maintain constant surveillance on the compound. Too many mane-heads wandering around. And the damn natives here are kissing their asses, too, so we can’t trust them. How many ships do you have, sir?”
    “Just one, sergeant,” Adam replied.
    There was a slight hesitation before Travis spoke again. “Understood. Can you home in on my signal?”
    “I have a way of doing it. Is there an LZ in the area, someplace we can land without being seen?”
    “Not where we are. When Commander Paulson gets back, we’ll move to a better location and make contact again.”
    “Very good, sergeant. Looking forward to seeing you again.”
    “Same here, sir. It’s been a long three months—hell, even longer than that, really, if you count being in the Sol-Kor shithole, if you pardon my language, sir. I’m pretty anxious to get back home, sir, if that’s in the cards.”
    “Aren’t we all. Be careful and report back when you have an LZ mapped out. Cain out.”
    “No sightings in two weeks,” Riyad said, concern heavy in his voice.
    “I know. But we have to assume the best, while preparing for the worst.”
    “Yeah…but two weeks.”
    Adam shrugged.
     
    ********
     
    It was an agonizingly long five hours before the speakers crackled again and Lieutenant-Commander Tom Paulson’s voice was heard.
    “We’re about nineteen kicks from the palace. Had to go out this far to find a safe landing zone. There’s a mountain pass to the north. If you come in five hundred miles on the polar side and stay low you should be able to slip through the pass undetected. The LZ is a wide clearing surrounded by a thick grove of trees. What kind of ship do you have?”
    “It’s experimental, about three hundred feet long.”
    “That should fit without any