Stand or Fall (The Omega War Book 4)
Page 23
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What?
Rains whipped his head to Vannix. “News to me,” his partner grunted. “It wouldn’t have changed anything, Jackson.”
With the Peacemaker Guild’s seeming retreat and reconsolidation taking place elsewhere in the galaxy, he realized there was no way they would have known about the Victory Twelve’s flight plan.
“Where was it going?” DuPont asked. His voice wasn’t as strained, and Rains realized the continuous pressure on his chest lessened with every passing second.
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“Initiate course change and request docking procedures.”
Vannix spoke up from her couch. “The gate is controlled by the Mercenary Guild now, DuPont. They’ll welcome you with open arms, then cart your human ass back to Karma’s prison system.”
“Oh, they’ll let me through. Even better than that, Peacemaker, they’ll make sure I have what I need.”
The weight on Rains’ chest ceased, and he floated up against the shoulder straps of his couch. His vestibular system attempted to revolt at the sudden change, but Rains blinked it away and took a quick series of clearing breaths—the ones he called zeroing breaths, because with an appropriate trigger phrase, everything settled. His brain quieted. Opening his eyes, he saw DuPont staring at him, and the words came out without a second thought. “How do you know they’ll welcome you with open arms and not kill you?”
“You gonna play the wild card, Rains? That’s what you’re planning to do? Distract me? Do something brash and stupid?” DuPont grinned, but the smile did not reach his eyes. He stared back with dark, cold eyes. “You’re not going to last long as a Peacemaker, Boy. They’re playing you—the young, wild kid with a brain they don’t care about. You could make a good living out here.”
Rains met the older man’s gaze. “I have a job.”
“Yeah, you have a job, but that’s about all you have. Your job’s not going to cut it in this galaxy much longer.”
“Yeah?” Rains asked. He could feel Vannix’s eyes on him. “What about you, then? They’ll let you through because they want Snowman, too. You’ve sold him out, haven’t you?”
“All things have their price, Rains.” DuPont touched his console. Alarms sounded, and red lights flashed across the bridge. The hatch hissed closed and locked. From the ceiling, six pylons with multi-barreled miniguns attached descended. Targeting lasers appeared on Rains chest and head. “A little something else I added to my ship along the way. I suggest you not try anything. You’ll never get your pistol out of your holster, Vannix. And Jackson, you might have been fast on a football field, but you’re not outrunning a wall of lead. Once I dock at the gate, I’ll let the mercs have you. That’s how I’ll pay my fee. Give them a couple of Peacemakers, and they’ll send me to find Snowman. But first, I’ll follow the Victory Twelve and find out what Tara Mason knows before I kill her.”
Rains shook his head. “You really think the Mercenary Guild is going to trust a former Human mercenary right now, DuPont?”
The older man grinned savagely. “They already have, boy. Sit your ass down and pay attention. You just might learn how this galaxy really works.”
* * * * *
Chapter Twenty-One
Central Transport Facility
Lovell City, Victoria
No sooner had Jessica’s boots touched the surface than the shuttle’s engines powered up for the climb back to orbit. With a bag on her shoulder, she turned to Tirr and brushed her auburn hair away from her face. The MinSha looked at her impassively, but there was a tiny twitch in his antennae acknowledging they’d been in a similar situation not that long ago on Weqq. Around them, a half dozen ships powered up their engines for the climb to orbit. The thrust core would take on as many ships as it could and house additional passengers in available compartments and spaces. When full, they would jump away and Jessica, Tirr, and those left would be all that faced the incoming MinSha fleet. They stood on the platform for a moment to let the shuttle clear behind them. In the distance, a dozen armored figures and two CASPers walked toward them through the labyrinth of ascending vehicles.
“How long until the fleet arrives, Tirr?”
He consulted his wrist slate. “Thirty-eight hours and forty minutes, give or take.”
“Lucille? Network identification and access, please.”
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“Mighty nice of him. Exploit it, Lucille. Standard packages.”
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“Good idea, Lucille. Let me know what you find and what you can use.”
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Tirr’s antennae waggled. “Full access in a network is what you call a big deal?”
Jessica shrugged. “It’s not something I’ve had much luck with on missions. Most of the time, people don’t want their dirty laundry aired, so they close off networks and data warehouses. That often works for limited investigations and inquiries, but Lucille cuts through standard encryptions like a laser sword.”
“A laser sword would be a completely impractical weapon,” Tirr replied, “despite what your Tri-V movies show it to be.”
She laughed and smiled at him. They’d been reluctant allies on Weqq when they stood together against Reilly’s Raiders, but Jessica realized Tirr had become a friend in the last few weeks of transit and diplomacy. The feeling, she believed, was mutual. “Come on, Tirr. Let’s go shake hands and kiss babies.” When Tirr stopped and stared at her, she added, “That’s a saying often attributed to politicians.”
“But I thought you didn’t like politicians.”
“I don’t, Tirr. But it doesn’t mean we can’t learn from them. Watson and his team are walking toward us with far more force than they need to stand us down. A show of force is pure politics. They want us to know—they want you to know—they don’t trust you and will shoot first and ask questions later.”
“This approach doesn’t bother you?”
“Of course it does.” Jessica walked toward the approaching group, and Tirr fell into step beside her. “We really don’t have time for bullshit posturing like this, but it’s a necessary evil. With any luck, we can diffuse it quickly.”
Tirr didn’t respond as they walked. Watson and his party were a hundred meters away. The two Mk 7 CASPers looked well-maintained and heavily armored. Each carried a MAC on one shoulder. Their hands were empty, but they each mounted a handheld weapon. One of them had a paint scheme similar to the Mk 8s she’d fought alongside on Araf. A brief image of Hex Alison flashed through her mind, and Jessica curled one side of her mouth under and blinked the sudden surge of grief away.
Focus, Jess. She took a breath and released it slowly. Figure out what Watson wants by understanding what he doesn’t want. Jessica wanted to laugh. Usually the voice of her conscience sounded like her father’s, but now it sounded more and more like Guild Master Rsach’s.
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“Go ahead, Lucille.”
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“What about the other ships in orbit? Are they queued up for transit?”
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“How many ships?”
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Tirr looked at her. “It’s a significant start, Jessica. We could slow down Drehnayl’s advance with coordinated fire power and maneuvers.”
“That�
�s precisely what I’m thinking, Tirr.” She looked up at the dozen figures approaching and picked out the one she thought was Watson. He was short and thin with an egg-shaped head that looked too big for his body. She’d known a kid in high school with a similar build and a similar ego. He’d approached her locker one day and demanded she go to a dance with him. Jessica had refused, and the kid had flown into a rage. He’d slapped her locker door. A corner of the ragged metal door had dug into her right forearm hard enough to draw blood. She hadn’t noticed while dropping her books to the floor, squaring her shoulders, and nailing him with a tight, fast combination of punches that sent Tommy Franklin sprawling across the floor. Suspension had been worth it. Her mother had even bought her ice cream. She leaned across the circular metal table while they enjoyed the cold treat and looked Jessica in the eye. “This isn’t for getting suspended, Jessica. This is for standing up for yourself. If you can do it without using your fists, even better, but if you can’t, that’s fine, too. Don’t take any shit from anyone.”
The dozen figures came to a stop fifteen meters away. Each of the CASPers drew a machine pistol from attachments on their right legs, but they did not raise them. Jessica fought the urge to clench her teeth by smiling brightly and closing the distance.
“That’s far enough,” Watson barked from seven or eight meters away. “What are your intentions, Francis?”
I’ve had about enough of this shit.
Jessica put her hands on her hips and took a deep breath. Before she could respond, a flurry of movement behind Watson and his men caught her eye. A small child, no more than five, flew between Watson and his guards and darted toward her.
“Inara!” Watson bellowed. The little girl paid no attention to him and ran straight for Jessica and Tirr. “Inara, stop right there!”
Jessica knelt as the girl slowed to a walk and finally stopped right in front of her. To Jessica’s amazement, Tirr knelt at her side. The little girl’s short dark hair did not reach her shoulders. In one hand, she carried a very worn, very loved stuffed bear. Her eyes were wide, brown pools, and her cheeks still looked pinchable. Jessica smiled. The little girl tucked her chin but kept her eyes on Jessica and Tirr in shifting, curious moves.
Behind the girl, she clearly heard Watson say, “If that thing attacks my daughter, kill them both.”
Jessica raised her gaze to Watson and frowned at him for a full five seconds before she smiled and leaned forward and smiled at the young girl. “What’s your name?”
“Inara Watson.” The sing-song quality of the little girl’s voice and careful pronunciation flushed Jessica with emotion. “I can read now.”
“You can?” Jessica grinned. “That’s wonderful.”
Inara shifted her weight from side-to-side. “Who is the bug?”
Jessica froze in embarrassment, but Tirr, laughing, knelt even lower. “My name is Tirr, Inara. I am a MinSha, not a bug.”
“You look like a bug.” The little girl looked at Jessica then back at Tirr. “My dad says we don’t like bugs.”
Jessica saw Watson blush, and it brought a smile to her face.
Tirr nodded solemnly. “What do you think, Inara?”
“I think you’re nice.” Inara said. Hands clasped at her waist, she rocked back and forth for a moment before dropping her arms and launching herself at Tirr’s neck. A gasp rang out from Watson’s crew. Tirr made no move as the girl hugged his neck tightly. “You smell good, too.”
Tirr carefully and slowly raised his right foreclaw to Watson, showing the human commander he was unarmed, before pressing the side of his claw against the girl’s back in a loose embrace. “Thank you, Inara. I think you are nice, too.”
Inara pulled away and touched Jessica’s hair awkwardly. “Your hair is pretty, too.”
“Thank you, Inara.”
“What’s your name?”
“My name is Jessica.”
Inara looked at Jessica’s blue jacket and touched the logo on her chest. “You are a Peacemaker?”
“I am.”
“Wow!” Inara said. “I never met a Peacemaker before.”
Jessica grinned and touched Inara’s head gently, resisting the urge to pinch the little girl’s cheeks. Watson left his team and walked forward with a concerned and defeated look on his grim face. He was younger than Jessica had first assumed, and his head was clean-shaven.
“Inara, come here, please.”
The little girl spun and looked up at him. She put one hand on her hip comically. “They are nice people, Daddy. Not mean like you said.”
“Inara.” His mouth worked but no other sound came out. Jessica knew the look well from seeing it on her friends with children of their own. Sometimes, the child was right.
“Daddy.” Inara put her other hand on her hip. “Jessica and...”
“Tirr,” the MinSha whispered.
“Jessica and Tirr are my friends. You be nice to them.” Inara walked over to Watson’s legs and grabbed on like a koala bear. “I mean it.”
“Okay, honey. Go back to your mom.”
Inara stepped back and raised her chin to her father. The little girl’s eyes were closed and her lips were pursed comically for a kiss. Watson closed his eyes, sighed silently, and bent down to kiss his daughter. Inara giggled and ran away, leaving Watson looking at Jessica in abject defeat.
“I don’t know what to say,” he managed.
Tirr remained kneeling but brought his claw to his chest again in the MinSha salute. “Commander Watson, your daughter has melted my heart with her affection. A MinSha would know no greater gift than what she has given me. You are to be praised.”
Jessica watched a fresh blossom of color appear in Watson’s face. He finally smiled. “Lieutenant Colonel Tirr, you have my apologies.”
Tirr raised his head to Watson but did not stand. “Let me assure you, Commander Watson, there are others of my kind who are terrible. But I am here to help you defeat them. I give you my word.”
Jessica kept her mouth shut. Sometimes diplomacy worked without a Peacemaker saying anything at all. When cooler heads prevailed, grand steps were made. When a child was involved, barriers fell. They stood there for a moment before Watson half-spun to his forces and gestured with one hand. The CASPer pilots holstered their weapons and walked back in the direction they’d come.
“Welcome to you both,” Watson said. He stepped forward with one hand outstretched. “Chris Watson.”
“Jessica Francis.” They shook hands warmly. Tirr rose up on his rear legs at Jessica’s side. As she and Watson let go of each other’s hands, Tirr stuck out his foreclaw.
“Well met, Commander Watson,” Tirr said.
“Well met, Colonel Tirr.”
“Now, that was easy, wasn’t it?” Jessica smiled, and Watson returned it.
“Wisdom from the mouths of babes,” Watson said. “Inara doesn’t like just any...You know what I mean, right?”
Tirr nodded. “I’ve never been hugged by a human child before. It has an overpowering effect, doesn’t it?”
“Something like that,” Watson said. “If you’re ready, we’ll get you settled in your quarters, then briefed on our defensive plan.”
Jessica nodded. “Sounds good. I have a question, though. Your ships in orbit are all unmanned.”
“They are. Since Znevski ran, I don’t have enough qualified crews to operate them, much less fight with them.” Watson sighed. “I wish there was a way to use them, but I can’t spare the manpower and defend Victoria.”
That wasn’t what Jessica wanted to hear. “There has to be a way.”
“There’s not. I can’t even get a skeleton crew trained for each of those vessels. I don’t have pilots or engineers. We sent all of them with the main body of evacuees. They’re jumping for Londontown now.” Watson frowned. “I have enough CASPers, tanks, and infantry to give them hell, but we’re assuming a huge risk if they use orbital bombardments.”
“It’s more than a risk,” Tirr said. “The M
inSha under General Drehnayl have conducted large-scale bombardments. It’s logical to assume they will do so again.”
Watson nodded. “We have some tricks up our sleeve. Please, come with me. Let’s get started.”
As they walked toward the main complex, Jessica looked at Watson for a long moment. The younger man’s countenance was all about the serious business of warfare. Exhausted but completely alert, Watson had the look of a combat veteran, but Jessica resisted the urge to play the “where did you serve” game. There would be time for casual conversation later.
“Those ships. What do they need to fly?” Jessica asked. “Just manpower?”
“Trained manpower, yes.” Watson replied. “Nothing in orbit could haul passengers. There are a few small weapons corvettes and frigates among the transports, but I sent all the qualified pilots with the ships capable of carrying the most passengers. We focused on our dependents and children.” Watson sighed. “Some of them refused to go.”
Jessica understood immediately. “How many of you are left?”
“Combat power? Two thousand three hundred and fifty-two. Non-combatants? Sixteen. Those are primarily my family and the governor’s family.”
Jessica blinked. “Where is the governor?”
“He fled with Znevski.” Watson grimaced. “Sonuvabitch left his family here. They refused to leave, too. They think he’s coming back for them.”
“That’s awful,” Tirr said. “Jessica and I were just talking about politicians, weren’t we?”
Jessica frowned. “Let’s leave it at that. It doesn’t change things.”
Watson nodded and started to speak, then pressed a hand to his earpiece. “Roger, I’m on my way. Have the XO meet Peacemaker Francis and Colonel Tirr. Get them settled and take them to my headquarters.”
Jessica squinted at him. “Is everything all right?”
“Fuel leak.” Watson shook his head. “I have some rookies handling CASPer and tank fueling. Nothing serious, but I need to go take a look. We need all the fuel we have. I’ll meet you in twenty minutes. Welcome to Victoria.”