“Since you're stuck there, can I have a minute with you two?”
Lasher spoke in measured tones as he forced his attention to the laser plying the metallic patch in place. “We have ship wide communication. You can have a minute anytime you want.”
“I know but I wanted a face to face on this. Here's the thing. We have the Numassa who pledged themselves to us after what we did for them. We have Tolin and his tribe, who instead of choosing to go home on this trip, chose to stay. We have a good thing going. I know the plan was to buy back my seat at the head of the Seven, but I haven't felt this free in a long time.”
The ad-hoc techs dropped to the deck. Lasher reached for him. “You don't know if you want the seat back?”
“I had power, prestige, and influence. But I also had enemies, politics, and no one I could trust. I had an empire I never saw because I had to be in the throne to rule it. I don't know if I want to give up the life I have now.”
“The Crucible pours the metal, my friend. It's up to you to shape it. My way is clear. I won't stop until Seladriel's killers are dealt with. But if you have a different way you want to go with this, you're the only one to decide it. Look, we all made promises in that cell back at the lancer fort. Freedom and a body for Kat. Revenge and control of the Seven Seats for you. Freedom for Fluff. Two down. Two to go. But if you've found what you're looking for on this ship, we don't have to go through with this.”
“Oh, we do. I still want to stick it to them for what they did. Plus, whatever Kenner is up to can't be good for Tythian. I may be a no-good criminal, but that place is my home. I'll do what I can to protect it. Can't make a credit if the shop is closed.”
“Kat, Fluff, Yu. You catching all of this?”
“Criminal went and found a conscience? Yeah, I heard,” Fluff said through their earpieces.
“Privateers versus pirates makes no difference.” Kat said, wearing her voice-of-reason voice. “If we're hitting the target, we should keep our minds on mission. We can work out whether Kel wears a pirate hat or a crown, later.”
Fluff snickered. “Those aren't the hats I was thinking of.”
“Hey! I have a wrench here and I'm not afraid to use it.” Kel gestured at Fluff with the smallest wrench he could find from the tool box.
“I'm starting to rethink my choice to stay,” Tolin said.
“I bet the Numassa are thinking the same thing right now.”
The ramp lowered to the jungle floor, ratcheting open through gasses venting along the skin of the aircraft. A woman in ornate armor and a stylized cloak made her way down. Soldiers, clad in armored plate, carrying the latest models of rifle from the Cyre Rondeau corporation on Elysium, flowed around her to beat her to the damp earth. In front of them were a host of people from the Numassa tribe. A woman almost twice the height of the armored commander stepped from the gathering to meet her.
“Numassa weh, kanna yo githyeh mah.” The commander said.
The slender Tyth inclined her head to the newcomer. “Your Hassadi is pretty good, Honored Miss. He said you were polite,” the woman commented in accented Trade-2.
“By someone you mean Orin Lashra.”
“We don't know him by that name. To us he is Hal Drassa. The Favored Son.”
The commander stepped forward, her hands held palms out at her side. “The Surando called him Halsur Asrani.”
“Yes, Miss. Different language. I am Matron Nistalla. I am pleased to greet the Marshals Templar to my home.”
“And we are happy to be here,” Mara Truveau said, removing her helmet. She straightened her braided hair, exposing the scar running into her hairline. She moved forward to clasp the woman by the wrist. Mara noted the worried expression on Nistalla's face. “Oh don't worry about them, they're here in case whatever Lasher, I mean Hal Drassa, left for us gets froggy.”
“Froggy?”
“Difficult.”
The four lancer honor guard walked behind Mara, casually scanning the crowd, along with the surrounding jungle. Their helmets hid any semblance of humanity. In their armor, they were dangerously anonymous. Their weapons were held on a sling across their chest, one hand on the handle away from the trigger. It was a difficult balancing act: while they needed to be able to field the weapon in short order, they didn't want to give the locals the notion that they were hostile.
Nistalla led them through a tangle of trees. After a short time of crawling, ducking, and swatting away branches, the group came to a tight clearing. A smile crept across Mara's face as she took in the scope of what was before her. Ample houses were tucked into the trees, from the ground to lofty spots in the highest branches. The clearing, covered in wispy shadows accented by light from the thick jungle canopy, revealed the markings along Nistalla's body to be more than just simple paint. It was something luminescent that cast a soft glow, which was easy to pick up in the dark by Tyth eyes. The paint also covered certain parts of the clearing, giving off just enough light to see by. Fireflies flitted about bringing more as they passed.
“Man, the missus would love this!” said the electronic voice from one of the troopers.
“Can it, Frazier,” came the other's retort. “I don't believe your vacation plans factor into what we have working at the moment.”
“Yes, Sergeant.”
The group moved to a hut across the grove. The fireflies danced away, leaving only a darkened chamber ahead. Two lancers went through the portal, disappearing into the dark.
The Sergeant pointed a finger at the marshal followed by a thumb's up. He signaled to the other two, who pulled two rods from the magna-locks on their backs. Moving into the hut, they set them down. A series of hisses preceded a hard surfaced tarp extending between them. Several locking noises followed, indicating the lancers could proceed to the next step. They lifted a sealed bag and placed it on the newly constructed litter. The Sergeant played with an interface on his wrist, causing the litter to rise over a meter into the air. “Push it outside.”
Mara leaned over the bag to check the box that was affixed to one side. “Life signs are stable. Sergeant LaGarron, did you see the amount of drugs they're pumping into her?”
LaGarron nodded. “I don't know what bothers me more. Is it that after the third Swamer they've let us take, they not only know how to fight them, but how to capture them, or is it that they seem to have an ample supply of regimental suspension bags? Either one burns my hull because we seem to be reacting rather than acting.”
“Until we can lock down what their real objectives are, that's all we can do.” Mara said.
“Yes, ma'am. We'll move this to the ship.”
Mara brought her attention back to the matron. “Were you or your people engaged in the fight against this creature?”
“No, ma'am. We were asked to watch over it until you came. Hal Drassa also asked me to give you this.” The matron extended her lengthy hand to expose a jump drive sitting in her palm. Mara took the drive, studying the lion logo on the outer case.
“You think you get upset, LaGarron. Imagine you are a fully trained marshal and an apprentice keeps one-upping you like it was your first day on the job. Every time he gives me one of these drives I want to close my hand around it so I can punch him in the face.”
She took a moment to compose herself then turned to the Tythian. “Nistalla, thank you for your hospitality. Your diligence in getting this to us is most appreciated. This person is dangerous and it's good that we remove her from here. We feel the Hal Drassa is headed for more trouble of this type on his own. Could you tell us where he is?”
“The Winds say that you should know this already.”
“Of course they do. Thank you, Matron.”
“Peace be with you, Marshal.”
Mara stomped up the ramp of the light assault shuttle. This little game she'd been playing with Lasher was getting old. Not to mention that she felt she wasn't right for leading the Special Action Platoon of Devil Hunters. When she agreed to head the platoon until Brand
could heal, she hadn't expected it to go this long. The men were good but she was supposed to be out countering threats against the Athalon. That was a lion's place. Not running around the galaxy stomping out little fires. Someone had killed her sister, Seladriel, and set the mongrel off on his path of revenge. Either he had to be stopped or they did. Otherwise, bodies would continue to drop.
“LT. Break atmo and head back to the ship.”
Baby Doll set the drone on the craggy ground beside two converging streams. The landscape was dotted with rolling hills occasionally spoiling the clear view of brown rock all the way to the horizon. Little puddles dotting the area were drying up slowly under the cloud-covered sun.
All this could be seen on the Storm Saber Assault Shuttle currently in orbit. Holos flitted in the bay where the crew sat around a table being briefed by Baby Doll
“OK, my fiends,” Baby Doll said. “Please be advised that this is the Doseidos badlands. I would suggest that you take the rover to the outpost. The atmosphere here is very dense. Lasher and Kel should wear their tactical masks to help them cope. Kat's cybernetic lungs will allow her to breathe normally. This is Tolin's home so he should have no trouble, as well.”
“What about me?” The question came out in a digital growl.
“I think you'll be fine, Monsieur Fluff. Although I can fabricate a mask if you want one.”
“Of course I do.”
“Of course he does!” Kel threw up his arms.
“Per the Chen Book, this planet is in the midst of a mass-salvage operation from the Raastrider Corporation,” Baby Doll continued.
“I'm seeing a trend,” Kel said. “They build something in the wrong place and then have to pull out.”
“You've encountered them before, Kel?” the ship asked.
“Yeah, they built the cliff base we've been working from.”
Tolin stroked the fur on his chin. “Sounds like they need a better surveyor. Think they're hiring?”
“And leave all this?” Kel said, spreading his arms to highlight the obvious.
Baby Doll ignored the banter. “Outpost-7 is just over that rise. The dome is mostly intact following a Dragomidon attack. That's when Raastrider decided to pull out. You should proceed with caution. We are no longer in the Frontier. This is the Outer Boundary of the Core Worlds Alliance, which means there are bound to be entire groups of mercenaries and wreckers here to cash in on the recovery. The mining outposts have been converted into boom towns for the salvage. Once the majority of the domed cities have been pulled apart, the living workers abandon it for the bots to finish. Outpost-7 is still a viable town so once inside you should have your choice of amenities. The Chen cartel is here to harvest a load of unrefined colabrium. According to Jia's book, the cartel sent roughly fifty workers with a security team marked as SD. I am not sure what that is, but suffice to say it can't be good for us. Plus with our exposure to Kenner, that number might have been increased in the time it took us to get here.
“Any questions so far?” Kel asked.
Fluff raised his paw, displaying wicked duradium talons. “How big is a Dragomidon?”
Tolin, Kel, and Kat rolled their eyes at the incorrigible mech.
“Here is a picture of our ship.” Baby Doll displayed a hologram. “And here is the ship next to the animal.” The ship dropped to the size of a child's toy next to a beast that looked like a Zheegan god. It was crocodillian except for its ability to walk on hind legs, like the dinosaurs of Old Sol, but on a much larger scale.
“I call dibs!” Fluffy said joyfully.
“You're cracked,” Kel said.
“Hey, you don't climb the mountain for the risk, you climb it because it's there!”
“Preach, brother.” Lasher said as he fist-bumped the mech's paw.
“Ahem. The colabrium wasn't collected, so it wasn’t secured into stabilizer canisters when the animal tore into the dome. The workers left everything in place and ran. Chen is here to gather up the mineral, lock it into the canisters, and then bring it up to a heavy freighter in orbit. Your best bet for mission success is to board one of the shuttles, then take the freighter in orbit,” Doll cooed. She sounded strange detailing battle plans in a bedroom voice.
“When do we go after the lizard-pocalypse?” Fluff asked.
“We'll come back for it on vacation.” Lasher answered. “Right now we go after the payday to hit Chen hard.”
“Fine, but I didn't come out here for the pretty sights,” the panther mech huffed. “Even though all this brown is wonderful, I thought you said you lived in a hostile jungle, Tolin?”
Tolin indicated further down on a holo of the planet. “To the south.”
“False advertising.”
“That being said,” Lasher cut in, “we should enter the outpost, do some recon, and then put the pieces in place to get to the freighter.”
“Why don't we just try to board the ship using the Baby Doll?” Fluff asked.
Everyone stared at the mech who’d finally asked a legitimate question that didn't involve a tactical movement to slaughter.
“What? I'm not just a pretty face.”
“Taking the ship with ours is a legitimate plan,” Kat agreed, “but we'd have to do significant damage to keep it from casting off before we broke through its defensive measures to board it.” Kat patted Fluff on the head. The Doom Cat leaned into the motion in true feline fashion.
“First plan holds then,” Lasher added. “Dig ourselves into the operation, wait for the final few loads to be sent, and stow away. We take the ship for ourselves once we disable it from the inside.”
“Big cargo hauler like that would be worth the trip alone, especially if it's in good order. Does the book say anything about the market value of the colabrium?” Kel said, wagging his finger in the air.
Kat's eyes flicked side to side, eventually coming to center again. “Fifty million for the haul. That's what Raastrider is paying for the retrieval.”
Kel shot straight up in his chair. “Fifty mil! Wait a sec. Why is Chen out here on a legitimate salvage op?”
Kat conjured another holo full of tracking data. “They're using it as cover for a pickup. They're going into the CORAL to pick up another load of people to bring over the border to the Frontier.”
“Like our slicer, Jia-for-short?” Fluff asked.
“Exactly,” Kat responded. “The operation is listed in the book as Flight-15 for something called Operation Gemini.”
Lasher looked to Fluff. “That's not good. That's the same order Corporal Savoya used to turn all the bots against the lancers on Tythian. They've been trying to dig though that code to analyze it but the best slicers in the Intelligence Branch have yet to crack it. Doll, do we have mission stats on this Flight-15?”
“We do. They're coming in by stealth. The Chen workers from the recovery will stay on Doseidos, picking up legitimate work until they can trickle back over the border. Prior to the delivery on the Raastrider station, the freighter will meet with another ship to transfer the Flight-15 slaves, which will match the number on their original manifest.”
Kel finished Doll's itinerary. “So to any port authority, the manifest matches with the workers offloading the colabrium, and it looks like some salvage op out of the Frontier looking to make a payday.”
“Then they hop back over the border, putting the slaves to work on Tythian.” Yu said through the radio. “I've seen some of the sweat shops they'll end up in. Not good.”
“We'll cross that bridge when we come to it,” Lasher said, reciting one of Seladriel's favorite sayings. “Let's get into the town. Then we can get to work. Yuzheff, you've sat out the last few. You want in on the ground?”
“Hells no,” Yu said with a chuckle. “I like my backside surrounded by tons of duradium and the dulcet tones of Baby Doll.”
“Hey, that's my girl you're talking about...” Kel snapped.
Baby Doll's silky voice broke the argument. “Boys, there's enough of me to go around.”
“Ugh. Drop me off at the next port so I don't have to listen to more of this,” Kat joked.
The plan now agreed, Lasher moved away from the table to stare at the repair he and Tolin had been working on earlier in the trip. Kat drifted over to him. “Are you okay?”
“I am surrounded by family. How else could I be?”
“You know, if this whole space outlaw thing doesn't suit you, I bet there is a university in the CORAL that would pay handsomely for your insights.”
“I doubt that.” Lasher said. “My lesson plan would be too harsh and they might even stage a protest.”
“Ever face a college protest?” Kat asked.
“Once on Maldinon. The president was a friend of Seladriel. When the protest became violent, he called her.”
“How did it end?”
Lasher shook his head. “Not how the protesters expected. They wanted more autonomy in an area where kidnappings were common. Then they wanted the right to sue the college if they were abducted. You can't have both freedom and security unless you're willing to put in the work.”
“Speaking of which, you should be careful down there,” Kat pointed out. “Vosi have become rare in the Core Worlds. Your particular flavor is more so – meaning you stand out. The Athalon and Elysian parliament may have put a squash on anyone from the big mercenary houses from taking a Cartel bond for you, but that won't stop any independent contractors from doing so. Since we've been together, we've done a lot of damage to the Seven Seats as a whole, not just the Chen. They’re going to come for us sooner or later.”
Lasher closed his eyes, lingering in the Crucible for a moment. He opened them again, allowing Kat to see the yellow haze drift from his pupils, bringing them back to their natural grey. “When that day comes, all of you have to let me go. But you're the only one who'll be able to convince our friend to let it happen. He'll fight to his last servo to stop them, but you can't let it happen.”
Kat's face turned to a mask of concern, searching Orin's face for insight. “You've seen it then.”
The Revenant: A Military Sci-Fi Series (Hunter's Moon Book 2) Page 9