by Rob Howell
“Good intelligence is always useful,” agreed Tahnerif stolidly. He glanced at his rei’shin, who bared their teeth to show their disdain at the prospect.
He lowered his ear. “I’ll consider it.” He looked back at Streetho. “I assume you have the contract and pertinent details prepared.”
“Indeed. You’ll find those things in your communications.”
“We’ll examine them.”
“Kukuluki has another contract offer.” Streetho waved at the Tri-V, and the screen zoomed in on a lush, green planet. “This is Peninnah. It’s a world rich in metals. The Zuparti share this planet with the Hilden.”
“The Hilden?”
“A minor race. They occupy only their home planet and a continent on Peninnah. They have employed the Foresters for quite some time as their security.”
“Indeed. And our objective?”
“The H-h-hilden have made unreasonable claims. B-b-broken their word.”
“Ah.” I wonder. Still, this might serve to allow us to regain our honor. “You’re asking us to force them to uphold their word, which would likely prompt a conflict between us and the Foresters.”
“Yes,” agreed Streetho. “I have forwarded this contract and the intelligence analysis for Peninnah to you.”
“Thank you.”
The Veetanho opened her mouth but immediately hesitated.
“Speak, Streetho,” commanded Tahnerif.
“There is another contract.”
“Indeed?”
“Yes, but I hesitate to bring it up.”
“Why is that, Streetho?”
“It is of a sort the Zuul have declined in the past. I wish not to offend you.”
“It is good you’re polite. I will assess no dishonor to you for providing us information and options.”
“That is, after all, my job.”
“Indeed.” Tahnerif wrinkled his muzzle.
“Maquon is on a stargate route from Earth to Peninnah. The Foresters had long desired a base between the two planets to help supply their unit working for the Hilden. So, when the opportunity arose to work with the Maquonese, their contract included a long-term lease on a sizable plot of land suitable for such a base. Their desire for a secure logistics base might explain, in part, the reason for the atrocity we have seen.”
One of the other Zuul growled, but Tahnerif cut her off. He waited for Streetho to continue.
“Kukuluki would have you monitor their shipments to and from this base.”
This time the subordinate couldn’t hold her tongue. “Monitor? They sit comfortably on the world they gained by treachery even the foulest among us would hesitate at, and you would have us merely watch them?”
Streetho glanced at her. “Yes, for now.”
Tahnerif held up his left paw and stared at the knife. “The Veetanho is correct, Rei’shin Fahrissthan. One strikes at logistics when the time is right, else one wastes an opportunity for maximum effect.”
“The commander is wise,” agreed Streetho. “The contract specifies that you’ll watch the base until Kukuluki, or those he speaks for, wishes you to destroy it.”
Kukuluki nodded quickly. “Should the shipments include what we expect, we’ll need a, ahhh, more active a-a-approach.”
Tahnerif turned to the Zuparti. “And who are they?”
“T-t-they?”
“The ones you speak for in this matter.”
“Ahhhh.” Kukuluki fluttered his hands. “Y-y-you needn’t know them, we think.”
Tahnerif’s ears shot back and he snapped, “I don’t wish to work for anonymous clients.”
Kukuluki took a step back.
Streetho leaned forward. “I know. It is one reason I hesitated to offer this contract.”
“And the other reasons?”
“Unfortunately, the base lies near a large, urban area. Should the time come for you to take the base, it’ll be difficult to avoid civilian casualties. The contract includes reparation payments to the Maquonese as necessary, but you have made it clear to my great-aunt that you don’t accept contracts where civilian casualties are likely.”
“You’re correct. We have refused several similar offers from Peepo.”
“You see why I hesitated.”
“Indeed. Again, I assess no dishonor to you.” The kal’shin glanced at Kukuluki before continuing, “Streetho, we recognize you respect our honor and are merely providing information.”
“Thank you.”
Tahnerif thought for a long moment. He could smell the fear from the Zuparti. The weasel-like creature and the Veetanho also radiated greed and malice. The Zuul resisted hunching his shoulders, but he couldn’t stop from wrinkling his muzzle. “It is, perhaps, a contract we’ll accept, though I require significantly more intel before putting paw to paper.”
“Of course.” Streetho seemed overpleased at that response.
Once more Tahnerif forced his shoulders to stay firm. “I presume you have sent that information too,” he growled.
“To be sure, Leader of Clan Tahverian.”
“Call me kal’shin. The word ‘leader’ barely touches upon the full responsibility of my position.”
“As you wish,” replied the Veetanho smoothly. “In any case, you may take all the time you need. I have marked the contracts held until you give me your decision.”
“We’ll contact you, Zuparti.” The Zuul commander gestured at the screen which still held images of Peninnah. “Should the details match what we have seen thus far, we’ll work together.”
Kukuluki’s eyes flickered nervously. “V-v-very good.”
Tahnerif contemplated him. Even the Slyest Prey would scorn this creature. Is he truly along our path to honor? And what connection does he have with the Veetanho? There is something there.
Finally, he said, “Is our business at an end?”
The Zuparti narrowed his eyes. “Y-y-yes.” After a moment, he backed out of the room, staring at the warriors around the table.
Tahnerif ignored him, waiting until the door closed. “Streetho, should we find no sign that anyone altered the video, and should we confirm the Foresters are guilty of slaying our pack after their surrender, we’ll require action against the entire Foresters pack. Thus far, you have only shown opportunities to strike at a third of its strength.”
“Thus far.” Streetho tapped the table. “I’d have you consider what you would do if you had a base such as the Foresters do on Maquon and someone took it from you.”
“Trap the prey by forcing it to come to you.”
“Exactly.”
Tahnerif leaned back. “That is promising, assuming the Zuparti instruct us to take and hold the base.”
“That is a reasonable possibility.”
The kal’shin considered. “It is, but it’s good to plan for other contingencies should things not work out that way.”
“Agreed. Make no mistake, Peepo and the entire Mercenary Guild know and respect the worth of the Zuul and the Stalkers in the Stars. We, too, are outraged at the crime perpetrated against the Trackers and will work to assist you further, should the Zuparti’s plans on Maquon not come to fruition. According to Peepo, the Peacemaker indicated we should keep our affairs in order, and we’re prepared to ensure that happens.”
Tahnerif bared his fangs. “The Peacemaker is correct. Thank you, Streetho.”
“You’re welcome, Kal’shin Tahnerif. And should you find further evidence of this massacre or any other treacherous deeds by the Foresters, it won’t go unnoticed when these events are reviewed by the Merc Guild.”
“It would be well that no one finds our pack failing in its duties or honor.” During the conversation Tahnerif hadn’t let go of the knife and had continued to bleed on the polished bubinga. His copper-based blood pooled black in the dim light, covering the flowing grain of the wood.
He opened his bloody paw. One subordinate took the knife and cleaned it with a shining square of white cloth. Then he cleaned the blood from the table. The
blood seeped to all corners of the cloth, not simply staining it but seeming to dye it completely and evenly. She folded the cloth with reverence and precision.
Another Zuul bandaged Tahnerif’s paw.
Tahnerif broke the heavy silence. “Our kin will remember those who help Clan Tahverian repay debts of blood and honor, Streetho.”
The four Zuul rose and left the room.
Streetho waited as Kukuluki returned. Another Zuul followed him.
“W-w-will he accept?” Greed overcame Kukuluki’s timidity. “If he does not, you m-m-must find another way. I collect my debts, even from such as y-y-you.”
“Tahnerif will accept the first two contracts.” The Zuul bared his fangs. “Assuming your production of the video holds up to detailed scrutiny. Be sure that Tahnerif won’t take it at face value. Fahrissthan might, but she’s only a puppy.”
“The video will withstand their scrutiny, Tahzhent. Be not a-a-afraid.”
Tahzhent’s eyes hardened. He caressed the jeweled knife at his side, a match for the one Tahnerif had held moments before. “Do not discuss my courage and honor, Zuparti. You cannot understand it.”
Kukuluki chittered. “But you’ll use me to g-g-gain your clan’s title even so.”
“I’ll take what is rightfully mine,” snarled Tahzhent. “I, not Tahnerif, should’ve become leader of Clan Tahverian when Tahcarran showed his cowardice by surrendering.
“As you say, Tahzhent,” interjected Streetho. “Forget not we all have goals. Forget not that we’re more likely to achieve them by working together.”
The Zuparti glanced back and forth nervously but eventually muttered to the Zuul, “I have sent you some contacts on Earth and much about the F-f-foresters. You can weaken them, even should they not fight your fellows.”
“Why would I do that?” asked Tahzhent. “How will that help me?”
“It would not,” said Streetho. “However, it would suit me and my goals if you use Kukuluki’s contacts and information to attack the Foresters on Earth. In return, I’ll ensure the Stalkers find odd problems cropping up here and there.” The Veetanho’s eyes gleamed. “Yes, it would suit me well if you caused havoc on Earth. In return, you have my promise I won’t forget your debts of honor, Tahzhent.”
Tahzhent bared his fangs. “As my cousin said, our kin will remember those who help Clan Tahverian repay such debts, Streetho.” He ran a paw along the bubinga where Tahnerif’s blood had pooled. He brought it to his muzzle and inhaled deeply. “And repaid I’ll be.”
* * * * *
Chapter 2 – Rhan’Kiial’Tala
Foresters House
469 Jarvis Street, Toronto, Ontario
“Master Warrant?”
“Yes, Private Stanley?” Master Warrant Officer Graham Russell looked away from the precisely stacked chips and sheets of paper on his desk.
“You…really should help with this recruit.” Stanley’s eyes darted back and forth between the front and back sections of the recruiting office.
Russell’s eyes narrowed. “And why, Private Stanley, do you need help with a task you have performed tolerably well a few dozen times already?”
“I’m not sure how to explain it.”
With immense restraint, Russell carefully put his stylus on his desk and rose.
Stanley swallowed when he saw the pleasant smile on the NCO’s face.
“Very well, Private Stanley. Let us see what fascinating new recruiting challenge you have uncovered.” Russell stepped around the desk, into the outer office of the recruiting center. He stopped almost immediately when he saw the other being in the office. “Is this a fucking joke, Private Stanley?”
“No, Master Warrant Officer.” Stanley stood at attention, eyes firmly fixed ahead, back ramrod straight against a file cabinet.
“I’ll rip your head off and shit down your neck if you had anything to do with this.”
“Yes, Master Warrant Officer. I understand!”
“You don’t understand, but you will after I get done with you!”
“Excuse me,” the other creature in the office interrupted. “This is where someone comes to enlist in the Queen Elizabeth’s Own Foresters, correct?”
The creature had a pointed face, a long tail wrapped around it, and dark eyes. It spoke English with the heavy accent and stilted phrasing of someone who had just learned the language.
Russell turned, loomed over the short being, and snapped, “It’s where Humans come to enlist in the Queen Elizabeth’s Own. Cochkalas are not Foresters.”
“My name is Rhan’Kiial’Tala. I am the sister-son of Rhan’Tlanit’Tala, of the clan Rhan in the Tala kinship. Despite the fact that I’m clearly not Human, I am here to enlist in the Queen Elizabeth’s Own.”
“Rhan’Tlanit’Tala?” Russell’s eyes widened as the name registered. He reared back to punch the Cochkala, but Stanley caught his hand.
“Master Warrant, you can’t!”
“Hell I can’t, boy. Now let go.”
Kiial stared up at Russell, his prehensile tail barely twitching. “Tlanit explained to me that such might be your initial response. I’m to tell you that I’m to accept any harm you choose to inflict upon me, up to and including execution, and both my clan and my kinship will consider our debts balanced.”
With a slight nervous twitch of his tail, Kiial stood as tall and straight as his badger-like body permitted. “I bear the name of one of our greatest kin-fathers. I won’t shame him.”
“Tlanit killed my el-tee and, now, he sends his nephew as a sacrifice?” Russell turned around. “Get the fuck out of here. This floor doesn’t deserve to be sullied with your blood.”
“Be that as it may, I won’t leave.”
The NCO halted, his fists bunched. “Go home before I take you up on your offer.”
The Cochkala didn’t budge.
Russell turned slowly to face Stanley, who had resumed his position of attention. “What do you think, Private? Put him at the end of the Owen Sound range? We could use a live-fire exercise. The remains of Alfa Company are due back from Peninnah any day. They might enjoy the fun.”
Stanley opened his mouth, but didn’t say anything.
“As you wish, Master Warrant Officer,” Kiial said. “Mother-brother Tlanit said the Queen Elizabeth’s Own showed skilled marksmanship on Cimaron 283133-6A. It would be a waste of what I can give you, but it would be a quick death.”
“What the fuck could you possibly give us? Cochkalas aren’t a merc species; you don’t have any natural weapons like the Tortantulas or Besquith. You can’t fit into a CASPer. You’re nothing but a bloodstain waiting to happen. Best you can do is take a bullet aimed at somebody worthwhile.”
Kiial began flipping his tail in agitation. “I apologize, Master Warrant Officer. Tlanit specifically instructed me to explain in detail only if I’m sworn into the Queen Elizabeth’s Own.”
Russell stomped back over and loomed again. “You fucking pissant! You know something, so you think you can blackmail your way into the Foresters?”
“Black mail? What does a dark piece of postage have to do with this?”
“And now you want to play with me, boy?” Russell picked up the Cochkala and held him eye to eye.
With great force of will, Kiial kept himself from wrapping his tail around Russell’s neck. “I assure you, Master Warrant Officer, I’m not playing with you. I understand the words you used, but they seem out of context here.”
“It’s one fucking word. Blackmail. It means you won’t help us unless we give you what you want.”
“I’m sorry, but I’m still confused. Doesn’t every equitable deal require such an exchange?”
Russell breathed deeply. “Boy, you can’t fight. You don’t even understand our language. Just go home.” He set him down. “I’ll let the colonel know about your uncle’s offer.”
“I’m sorry, but I can only return home if I’m dead or have served with distinction in your company.”
“What?”
<
br /> “Tlanit named me aklanas, which means I’m forbidden to trade with any other Cochkala until my task is completed.”
“It’s a big galaxy. Find a business selling to someone else.”
“Unfortunately, all members of the Wathayat Consortium will honor this proscription. Nevertheless, it’s irrelevant. You may execute me or your company may accept my service. It’s the only equitable exchange my kin will accept.”
“Master Warrant Officer?” interjected Stanley.
“Yes, Private?”
“Shouldn’t the colonel decide if we’re gonna kill him?”
Russell turned his head slowly, like a turret on a wet-navy battleship. “Private Stanley, what did you say?”
Stanley gulped and tried his best to force himself into the wall behind him. Finally, he stammered, “Uh, Master Warrant Officer. I don’t think putting him at the end of the range is what they meant when they told us to ‘Kill Aliens, Get Paid.’”
For a long moment, Stanley wondered if he was going to be standing next to Kiial on the range.
Russell turned back to the Cochkala, grinning nastily for a long moment. “Private Stanley. Since you insist, please begin processing the new recruit.”
“Yes, Master Warrant Officer!”
“Make sure you fill out all the forms properly. It would be a shame if there were any issues with his paperwork.”
“Yes, Master Warrant Officer!” repeated Stanley.
“Welcome to the Foresters, Recruit Kiial.” Russell leaned down, and his grin widened. “I’m sure you’ll love the Bruce. It’s a wonderful place. Trees. Rocks. Flowers in the spring. In fact, it’s so wonderful, I might just join you.”
* * * * *
Chapter 3 – Rick Blaine
The Lyon’s Den
Houston, Texas
“I know the rules,” I said to the two Lumar at the door.
I said it politely because I did, in fact, know the rules for the Lyon’s Den.