They were headed to Waa. When t.i.tan destroyed the aliens' home planet, it had become the new center of the Minith race. It was there that their next battle would take place.

After their success on Telgora, Grant had hesitated on what their next step should be. He had considered returning to Earth, but that would have put them in the same position they had been in for the past six years-waiting for the enemy to make their move, then fighting on their terms. It was not a scenario Grant saw as being successful. He had considered staying on Telgora and waiting for the Minith to land more forces there. Again, he did not see any success in that move.

It was only after overhearing the conversation between the orbiting Minith mothership and their leader on Waa that Grant saw a clear path-through the planet Waa.

The enemy mothership was heading for Earth, but it would take months to get there. Waa was much closer-if Gee was correct, they could be there within a week or two. That would give them time to take the action to the aliens, to succeed or fail on their own terms.

If they failed, Earth was on its own. Grant took some solace knowing that the thousand soldiers on this ship would provide little additional help to a battle on Earth, especially if the Minith invaded in significant numbers. Mouse, and the forces he now commanded, were well armed and adequately trained, but they needed numbers on their side to have a chance. In a head-to-head contest, they would be a poor match for the hard-boiled, aggressive warriors that they Minith could put on the battlefield.

On the other hand, if Grant and his forces succeeded-if they could overcome the Minith forces on Waa-there was a chance for complete victory.

Grant's plan hinged on three things.

First, the information he received from Treel would have to be true-specifically, the knowledge that Minith were programmed to bow down to a victor after being defeated. Supposedly, it was why the captured alien had opened up to Grant so readily-it was in his genetic code and moral fiber to do so. Grant could not discount the possibility that Treel had misled him, but he did not think so. And if the information was accurate, cutting off the head of the Minith Governor should require the rest of the race to submit to the human victors.

Second, they would need access to the communication device that allowed the Minith leader to speak with her mothership in near real-time-even across light years of s.p.a.ce. Grant was just as surprised as his Minith counterpart that the capability existed, but obtaining it would allow them to communicate with Earth. It would also allow the leadership on Waa to communicate with their forces approaching Earth. It would allow them to stop the attack before it started.

Third, and most important, they had to land on Waa and defeat the Minith on their own territory.

Every cliche and plat.i.tude Grant could think of applied to the situation. He was putting all his eggs in one basket, throwing a Hail Mary pa.s.s, and flying by the seat of his pants, all at once. The chance of success was slim, but he did not have a better plan.

"How long until we reach Waa, Gee?"

"Approximately ten days," the engineer replied. "Seven days traveling at interstellar speed, then three days to approach the planet."

"Why three days to approach?"

"Apparently, that's a safety mechanism built in to the craft. A mothership can exit a solar system at interstellar speed, but the systems are designed to slow it down before it enters a solar system."

"What's the danger?"

"The danger is. .h.i.tting a planet or moon," Gee stated with a knowing glance. Grant silently added the unspoken, but hanging, "duh" to the end of the engineer's comment.

"What's the chance of our hitting a planet? A moon?"

"Um. It would depend on the solar system. The more planets, the greater the likelihood of catastrophe."

"What about Waa's solar system?"

Gee frowned. It was obvious he knew where Grant was going with his questions. It was also clear he did not like the train of thought-but he pulled the data from the ship's databanks anyway.

"Waa resides in a system with thirteen other planets. Combined with their moons and the sun, there are twenty-four objects the vessel could strike if we enter at excessive speed. And we don't even have to hit the sun; we just have to come close."

"Did you ever play marbles as a kid, Gee?" Remarkably, marbles was one of the few games from the twenty-first century that kids still played.

"Yes, of course."

"Okay. How large an area would the Waa solar system be if the planets were the size of marbles?"

"Well, the marbles would be different sizes, obviously. And the sun would be closer in size to a human head," Gee muttered as he referred to the controls and monitor before him. The sound of the craft as it lifted from the ground grew in its intensity, but the engineer did not seem to notice. He was concentrating on the problem Grant had given him.

After a minute, he looked up from the monitor. His eyes were wide and a goofy-looking grin split his countenance.

"Amazing."

"How large?"

"The area would be more than a square kilometer in size."

"d.a.m.n, that is large" Grant said, then whistled. "So, what are the chances of us. .h.i.tting the human head or one of those twenty-three marbles if we didn't slow down outside the solar system?"

"Much, much less than one percent."

"Make it happen, Gee. I want to be as close to Waa as possible before we drop out of interstellar speed."

The engineer turned to his monitor and began working the problem.

CHAPTER 2.

"Why should we become involved in this squabble? You know the Executive's stance on meddling in local affairs. This appears to be a case of civil unrest between third-rate planets in the farthest, backwater corner of the galaxy."

Oiloo was prepared for the question. He was aware of the policy-not that he agreed with it. Zrthn leaders had been getting softer and softer over the past centuries, and the current Executive was no different. Instead of exerting influence proactively, they followed a hands-off approach. The only problem with the policy was the recurring need to solve issues on a reactionary basis.

"Administrator Ellil, this 'backwater corner of the galaxy' is one of our primary sources of agsel," Oiloo replied.

The need to explain the importance of the region annoyed the regional trade arranger. Although he did his best to hide the irritation, his re-use of the lead administrator's phrase, coupled with the emphasis he placed on them, caused several harsh looks to be cast his way.

He took a deep breath and re-focused. The Circle of Administrators, though mostly uneducated about his region, wielded supreme power over his activities. The best he could do was inform the twelve superiors surrounding him of the issues, and rely on their faith in him to manage his region appropriately.

"We are aware of that, Trade Arranger." The cool reply was delivered without emotion. "In our experience, these situations generally resolve themselves without intercession."

Oiloo wanted to dispute the a.s.sertion, but checked his response. He settled on a summarization of recent history in the region.

"Administrators, as you have already stated, this region is very remote. In fact, it resides at the farthest border of our galaxy." His feet were firmly planted in the center of the Administration Circle, but he rotated his head slowly to the right as he spoke. He made eye contact with each of his superiors in turn as his head continued twisting. "But its remoteness does not diminish the importance that it has for the Zrthn race, and for the continued success of our esteemed Executive."

Oiloo was not above playing a political card of his own, so he stressed the last part. The Administrators served at the will of the current Zrthn leader. His continued success ensured their own.

"The agsel deposits in the region are significant," he continued. "While they are not as large as those of the Ilthryn systems, they are vital for the long-term health of our economy. You are all aware of the stresses our worlds have been under since the Minith planet was destroyed. The halt in agsel delivery as a result of that act impacted the daily lives of every being who lives under the protection of the Executive."

The trade arranger's head completed its 360-degree turn and reached its starting point; he found himself facing Lead Administrator Ellil again. He paused a moment, reversed the direction of his head, and continued with his discourse.

"After years of delay, the agsel has started flowing again, and we have all seen the benefits. Prices of goods are lower. Manufacturing production and worker efficiency ratings are up. These are direct results of the resumption of the agsel deliveries from this backwater region.

"I know the Executive is against interfering in local affairs. But the continued instability in the region has a direct effect on our economy and on our ability to sustain our position with the rest of the major players in the galaxy. If any situation were to ever require our direct involvement, this is it."

"Trade Arranger Oiloo, what are you recommending we do?"

Oiloo relied without hesitation. "We must intercede so that the region remains stable. We must take action so that the agsel continues to flow unabated."

"What specific actions are you suggesting?"

"We must aid the Minith-militarily, if necessary."

The Administrators shared looks. Oiloo felt some were swayed, while others not.

"Thank you for your recommendations and for your time, Trade Arranger," the lead administrator stated. "We will discuss this further and let you know what the Executive decides. In the meantime, keep us apprised of the situation."

"Yes, Administrator," Oiloo replied. The Circle of Administrators wavered, faded, and finally evaporated as the communication link was severed.

The trade arranger knew it would take his superiors time to get back to him with a decision-more time than they had if they were to affect the outcome favorably. Nothing happened quickly, regardless of how critical the situation was or threatened to become.

Oiloo decided he would have to take matters into his own hands. Although he could not support the Minith directly with battle cruisers or legions of soldiers, he could aid them in other ways. In fact, he had already begun doing so.

The Minith General and four of their motherships were already headed to Earth at Oiloo's urging.

General Soo commanded his mothership with an iron fist. He intended to command the other three motherships, which were also en route to Earth, in the same fashion. With luck, those craft would join him at the edge of the planet's solar system within days of his own arrival.

His orders had been issued by his brother's mate, Rala, prior to leaving his position outside the Telgoran atmosphere. As directives went, they were remarkably clear.

"Grab Earth by the throat and choke the life from it."

Those were words that any Minith commander could appreciate. They were especially comforting after having to watch the humans defeat his soldiers on Telgora. His inability to help his forces defend their positions, and the clear view he had of their ultimate elimination, fueled his anger and his desire to grind the humans under his heel. Striking Earth while their army was fiddling about on Telgora would be extremely gratifying.

CHAPTER 3.

"Overriding the system was simple. The real problem is deciding how close to Waa we want to be when we drop out of interstellar speed."

"As close as possible, Gee. I want to be right on their doorstep." The engineer stared at Grant with a blank expression. Grant sighed. Apparently that idiom was no longer in use in the twenty-seventh century. "Just get us as close as you can."

"Grant, the failsafe the Waa put in place is there for a reason. I can plot a course that should deliver us to the planet, but there are no guarantees. We're talking about decelerating from much faster than light speed to an interplanetary speed of only twelve million kilometers per hour."

"Only twelve million?"

"Relative to the interstellar speed we are traveling now, that's like standing still. But it's much too fast to be traveling with a planet nearby. The closer we try to get to the planet before decelerating, the higher our risk of... um... impact. Plus, we need time to decelerate from that speed before entering the planet's atmosphere."

Grant was getting a headache trying to keep all the numbers and possibilities in his head. He had never been great at math.

"So, how long will that take?"

"Typically, the process of slowing the mothership from interplanetary speed to a speed that will allow a controlled descent to the planet's surface begins a day or more out."

"We can't give the Minith a day's notice, Gee." Grant paused to consider the timing. He did not know how prepared the aliens would be to defend against an unexpected mothership that suddenly appeared in the sky and then attempted a surprise landing outside a major city. The fact that the city also happened to be the one where their leader resided would expedite their response. He just didn't know enough about their capabilities.

In his time, he could land a large force outside of just about any city in America and have at least a half a day to operate before military units could be a.s.sembled in any significant numbers. Local law enforcement would respond immediately, and, depending on the urgency, nearby fighter aircraft could be brought to bear. But as for ground troops? It would take at least half a day-and more likely, two to three days-to put them in play.

"Can you slow the ship and land within an hour of dropping out of interstellar speed?"

Gee's mouth dropped. Grant knew the engineer thought he was nuts. To Gee's credit, though, he merely turned to his control panel.

"The scenario gives us a ten-percent chance of hitting the planet and a fifty-percent chance of breaking apart when we decelerate. The repairs the Telgorans made to the hull are the problem. They do good work, but I don't how they will hold up under the added stress," Gee offered after running the numbers. He gnawed on a thumbnail while Grant mulled over the response.

It only took a few seconds. Grant could not live with those odds.

"How about two hours, Gee? Can we do it in two?"

Gee went back to the computer.

"Three-percent chance of impact with Waa. Twenty-percent chance that we destroy the ship in the process."

Grant could live with the three percent, but the twenty-percent chance of killing them all was still too high.

He weighed the need for surprise against the chance that they would destroy the ship-and themselves-before ever reaching Waa. They were a small force of a thousand fighters. According to the ship's data systems, the Minith population on Waa numbered close to one million. Almost a hundred thousand of those were trained soldiers. While only a portion of those soldiers were stationed near the capital city, it was more than enough to wipe out the human attackers.

Regardless of how Grant played it out, their plan to go after the head of the Minith race was likely a suicide mission. But without the element of surprise, death was a certainty. If they were to have any chance of success against the enemy, they had to catch them off guard. Grant thought back to the j.a.panese attack on Pearl Harbor. Although that happened a hundred years before he was a soldier, it was the cla.s.sic example of how to strike a foe unexpectedly. He and his forces would need to be just as successful as the j.a.panese had been on that December morning.

"How much time will it take if we reduce the twenty percent to ten?"

Gee made some revisions to his calculations.

"Two hours and thirteen minutes."

"Do it."

Grant entered the mess hall and strode to the middle of the room.

"Okay, listen up."

The twenty-two leaders of Grant's forces were scattered around the largest room in the mothership. As usual, they were on time for the daily briefing, and all of them gave Grant their attention. t.i.tan and Patahbay stood along a side wall. Both were new additions to the routine, agreeing to join the briefing at Grant's request.

"In two days, we are going to be landing on the planet Waa," he started. Most of them already knew the basics of the plan, but he covered them anyway. "As you know, the planet is home to the largest remaining population of Minith. According to the ship's records, nearly a million of the aliens live there. A tenth of them-about a hundred thousand-are soldiers. For those of you who may not be so great at math, that means we are outnumbered a hundred to one."

Grant waited for the statement to register with the team leaders before continuing.