Grey Ronin (The Awakened Book 3) by Cox Matthew S

Author:Cox, Matthew S. [Cox, Matthew S.]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
ISBN: 9781620076095
Publisher: Curiosity Quills Press
Published: 2016-05-21T04:00:00+00:00

It did not take long for the prowler’s air filtration system to bog down, allowing the interior to fill with the stifling stench of the unwashed. Despite its size, the designers intended it to house a crew of eight―not thirty-one. The liberated MLF fighters packed wall to wall in the main cargo space. The older man, Darl Ulyn, had the highest rank of the former prisoners, equivalent to a military captain. Redness had taken his face from a minutes-old argument. His subordinates wanted to keep the bulk of the supplies the prowler had brought in; however, to do that would have left most of them walking.

After weeks, and in some cases months, in detention, not one of them could have handled a two hundred kilometer hike. Mamoru disregarded much of their conversation, which consisted in large part of grumbling at the lack of sleeping berths these vehicles were supposed to have. No matter how often someone mentioned it was a cargo-converted unit, another person invariably whined about having to stand.

“Hey,” said Darl, leaning through the bulkhead. “I wanted to thank you for getting us out of there.”

Mamoru glanced at the outstretched hand. “It was a request of Garrison in exchange for information.”

Darl chuckled at Mamoru’s apparent confusion and lowered his arm. He bowed. “Regardless of why you did it, I appreciate it.”

“That soldier had a point. Why do you attack military targets? If you are fighting a demon with many arms, it is foolish to chop off its hand. While you waste the effort to do that, its other arms will kill you. You should take the head from the beast, not break its weapons.”

“Easier said than done.” Darl crossed his arms and leaned on the wall. Weariness manifested as sweat tracing cleaner lines through grime-stained pores. Against his pure white skin, the dirt created the appearance of beard stubble. “I get what you’re saying. We should be trying to get the military on our side, not making enemies of them.”

“A campaign of truth, electronic sabotage, and diversion can be carried out from safety. The military can only oppose force.”

“You’re pretty sharp, son.”

“I am not your son.”

Darl laughed until he wheezed, and pounded a fist on his chest twice. “Sure enough you’re not.” He looked at the driver. “Pria, take us to grid 098, reference 22-45.”

The woman at the controls whirled at Darl. Her short, black hair swished about eyes brimming with eagerness. “Won’t that leave us about five kilometers away from the shaft?” Pria’s complain-face relaxed to a neutral expression and then to one of understanding. “Oh, I get it. No tire marks to give us away.”

Darl grumbled. “I don’t even like going that close, the transponder―”

“Is dead,” added Mamoru.

“Still, not to say I don’t trust you, but I’d rather not take chances.” Darl looked over his shoulder to the back. “Need a volunteer in reasonable health who’ll drive this thing about ten kilos away and ditch it.”

One man attempted to volunteer, but could not speak over coughs.

“I’ll do it,” said Pria.

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