Free Invasion of Kzarch by E. G. Castle Page A

governor we’ve had has always been one of them.” Frank repressed a wince. He knew such things weren’t uncommon on the more backwards planets, but still…
    “Even the other important positions are usually filled by ‘em. It’s pretty rare we get someone who isn’t from the First Family in charge of anything really important. Thing is, the general, he wanted to be on the top. He was a grand-nephew of the previous governor, and figured he was the best choice once the previous guy died. But instead, the former governor’s son was chosen, his uncle. He, ah… wasn’t too happy about it.”
    “So he’s ambitious. And had his ambition frustrated?”
    “Bingo. Actually, I’d guess that one of the reasons he’s been running this whole show, the guerrilla thing, I mean, is because he figures that when the pirates get kicked out of here, he’ll be put in charge. Or something.”
    “I see.” In his mind, Frank frowned. He didn’t really approve of the general’s ambitions, though, to be fair, he didn’t like politics regardless. Then he gave a shrug, and downed another cup.
    Not his problem, although he did rather sympathize with the Kzarchians, who apparently had their government chosen for them.
    Then he stood up.
    “I think I’d better stop here, before I get drunk. You coming?”
    “No, I have something else to do.”
    “Oh? You got a date?”
    Tom snorted, but looked uncomfortable.
    Laughing, Frank waved and headed out of the makeshift bar, back to his platoon.
     

Chapter Seven
     
    Cursing to himself, Frank lifted himself off the ground.
    “Lieutenant?” the guerrilla captain asked cautiously.
    “I’m fine,” the Marine snapped. “Let’s go. We’re already behind schedule.”
    With a gesture, the captain did just that, sending his team forward along with their Marine reinforcements. Carefully though, as the current mission was being run at night.
    Trudging on, Frank wished now that he hadn’t decided to come along. He had forgotten how hard it was make battlesuits maneuver properly at night, when the power was off.
    Still, nothing to be done about it now.
    “Camp ahead, ‘bout a mile!” a scout quietly called out.
    Frank considered his mental map. Right, they must be almost over the hill now. The pirate camp should be… on the right.
    As he hauled himself over the top of the hill’s ‘peak’, Frank glanced towards where he thought the pirates would be. It took another couple of moments of scanning around though, before he located them.
    “Move it!” a guerrilla sergeant hissed at him, probably thinking he was just another Marine.
    Without saying anything, Frank did as he was told.
    Now that they were within a mile of their target, the guerrilla team was moving slowly and cautiously, though the dark night meant that they had been going slow in the first place.
    “Sir?” came softly whispered over the com.
    “Yes?” the lieutenant replied, equally muted.
    “I think they’ve spotted us.”
    Frank frowned. The Marines had been rotating sensor duty, leaving one of the battlesuits’ sensors on while the others stayed off.
    For a moment, the lieutenant wished it was his turn, or that he could turn on his own sensors for a quick check. But he’d have to make the decision without that.
    “How likely?” he quietly snapped.
    “Fairly sure, sir. Can’t imagine why else they’d be moving around like that.”
    “Damn. All right.” Moving faster, though still being as careful as he could, Frank made his way over to the guerrilla team’s captain.
    “They’ve spotted us.” Frank informed him.
    The man swore, than made a few frantic gestures. Immediately, the entire group sped up. Mentally cursing, Frank did his best to keep up; not an easy task in the dark and while wearing a heavy, encumbering, unpowered battlesuit.
     
    ***
     
    “I’m tellin’ you, I’m sure they spotted something!”
    “Yeah, sure. And where is that something?”
    The pirate commander was feeling grumpy,