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CHAPTER FOUR
0711 hours, August 30,2552 (Military Calendar)\Epsilon
Eridani system, Longhorn Valley, planet Reach.
The alarm hooted, and Zawaz sprang to his feet with a startled
yelp. The squat alien, a Grunt clad in burnished orange armor,
fumbled and dropped his motion scanner. He keened in fear and
retrieved the device with a trembling claw. If the scanner had
been damaged, the Elites would use his body as reactor shielding. If
his masters learned he'd been asleep at his post, they might do far
worse than kill him. They might give him to the Jackals.
Zawaz shuddered.
Fortunately, the scanner still worked, and the diminutive alien
sighed with relief. Three contacts rapidly approached the moun-
tain that separated Zawaz's cadre from the distant human forces.
He reached for the warning klaxon but relaxed as his detector
identified the contacts—Banshee fliers.
He peered over the dirt edge of his protective hole to confirm
this. He spotted three of the bulbous aircraft on approach. Zawaz
snorted. It was odd that the flight wasn't listed on his patrol
schedule. He considered alerting his superiors, then thought bet-
ter of it. What if they were Elites on some secret mission?
No, it was best not to question such things. Be ignored. Live
another day. That was his creed.
He nestled back into his hole, reset the motion detector to
long range, and prayed it wouldn't go off again. He curled into a
tight ball and promptly fell into a deep sleep.
Fred led their flying-wedge formation. The purple and red air-
ships arced up and over the treetops of the ridge, gaining as