“This isn't justice!”
“Two thousand, one hundred, and fifty-three. Dead! All because someone you work for cut Orin Lashra's leash. Where's their justice? Tell me!”
The two were silent. Martel glared at Mara, trying to ascertain whether she was really going to kill them. Dovai just stared at the floor. She wasn't breathing heavy or trying to rage against the absurdity of what was going on, like he was. She was simply kneeling beside him, a rock against the wave that was Marshal Truveau.
“Give me my Ursaada. I'll take the challenge, but I want the collar off. If I win we both go free.”
“If you win, I give you a head start before my lancers hunt you down.”
“That's a trash deal!” Martel croaked.
“Done,” Dovai said, standing to face the marshal.
Mara reached for the back of her head and released the collar. Dovai rolled her neck around, trying to free herself from the kink the collar had put in it. A deep breath preceded a rushing sound, like a tide coming in from the ocean. The hair on Martel's skin bristled. He knew Dovai was reaching beyond the veil with the Second Sight. She was tapping into the powers her people were known for, before the Sorrows. Before the loss of the Ur.
Mara removed her gun belt, throwing it to the Lance Sergeant. “No Ursaada. No plasma sword. Just knives.”
“Do I get my knife?” Dovai asked.
“You do.”
“Belay that, Chief! I'll fight her,” Martel challenged.
The Kursaadi had a knowing smirk on her face. “All due respect, Captain. This is one fight you wouldn't win.”
One of the lancers released the Kursaadi from her manacles, handing her the knife from her kit. It resembled an ordinary military type until she assumed a fighting position. It thrummed to life, wrapped in a shimmering, translucent field of energy. It rapidly shifted between appearing solid and then hazy. Waving the blade around made noises similar to waving a torch.
Mara drew her own knife from its worn leather sheath. The handle was a well worn linen micarta. She held her weapon in a reverse grip with the rest of her body poised like a boxer. Her weapon wasn't wrapped in an energy field, or glowing. It was jet black with ridges that resembled serrations.
The two women circled each other, waiting on cosmic insight to see how they should respond to the other. The squad leaders were quick to wrangle younger lancers watching the action back on task. They were too busy cataloging bodies, gathering intelligence, or running drones to sit around watching a pit fight. The older members of the platoon knew what the marshals expected and it had better get done or there would be hells to pay.
“Does someone yell go or something?” Martel asked to no one in particular.
They rushed each other. A series of evasive thrusts was followed by rapid fire off-hand strikes. At one point both tripped over the debris scattered by the Doom Cat's cannons. Another series of strikes sent the women dodging around the lancers. Martel couldn't tell who was getting more hits in. While the marshal's armor was nicked in places, Dovai had taken a gash to the upper arm. The speed of their attacks, fueled by their training and abilities, was too fast for a normal person to track.
A piece of piping flew into Dovai's hand. She battered the marshal until it bent. Seizing the momentum from off-balancing her, she slashed at Mara's neck. The marshal was quick to place her hand against the target to block. The phase knife cut through the plate on her forearm. It fell away in a bloody clatter on the floor. Mara backed away, her face momentarily betraying that the injury from the slash was severe.
Dovai lunged, delivering rapid slashes to score any hit she could against her would-be executioner. Each strike seemed to come with more effort and less accuracy. Mara bathed in the Crucible, easily ducking a cut aimed for her neck. A heavy support bar skittered across the floor to slam into the back of the other woman’s heels. It was enough to send Dovai tumbling to the floor, losing her blade in the process and then falling unconscious.
Mara reached for the knife in the Crucible, levitating it above the ground and out of reach. It took off with the speed of a bullet, sinking to the hilt in the center of Martel's head. Mara regained her feet, walking over to her panting adversary. She hesitated for a moment to assess the wound in her arm.
“Well fought, trooper. Well fought.“ Mara said over her opponent.
Dovai came to, looking up at the shattered lights of the ceiling. She shot from the floor, watching the lancers go about their work like a colony of ants. They weren't reacting to her startling awake, nor were they looking to subdue her. Her weapons and armor were against the wall close by the stretcher she was resting on.
“If you're wondering why they're not bothering with you, it's because if you try to stand right now the only thing you're going to do is hit the floor again,” the marshal told her.
“What happened?” Dovai's voice was raspy, like she hadn't had any water in days.
“We fought, you lost.”
“I lost and my commander had to pay for it with his life?” Dovai screeched.
Mara whirled on her prisoner. “No! I meant what I said. You were guilty of conspiracy in the deaths of over two thousand people. Your refusal to answer my questions was doing nothing but help those poison people you work for, continue to push a whole lot of suffering on those who don't deserve it. Just like your people, the Kursaadi, didn't deserve it.”
Dovai lowered her head. “That's not fair.”
“You know what else isn't fair? A commander who would have let you die in a stupid trial by combat because he wouldn't answer a question. That kind of man didn't deserve to give orders to a daughter of the Ur. So I poisoned you and killed him.”
“Your knife.”
Mara produced the knife from her belt. It resembled obsidian, catching the light along its glassy surface. It was almost a spearhead that someone had put a small handle on.
“It's a Sulmari Dragon's tongue stinger.”
Dovai's face scrunched, clearly not understanding the reference.
“It's a large predator from a planet deep in the frontier. It stings its prey with the tip of its tongue, which is insanely poisonous. The prey runs off, only to fall over gasping for air when it drowns in its own juices. The dragon then comes along and scoops it up. An easy meal for the taking.”
“You fought one of these?”
“No. The blade was a gift. I was on mission to that planet when we got too close to the dragon's territory. It responded, like most predators do, by asserting its dominance. The one you were sent after, Orin Lashra, he tackled it away from me, putting it in a stranglehold. It pinned him to the ground until they both passed out. The thing had stung him four times. The first few hit him in the armor but that last one dug deep into his leg and filled him with all that crazy venom. They can detach the stinger so it seals the poison into the wound. They just grow a new one in a few days. We were in the middle of nowhere and had no clue how to produce an antivenom, much less get the stinger out. His only option was to focus on what we taught him, using the Crucible to fight the poison. When he came out of his trance, the dragon was curled next to him. The thing took him for a dominant predator and started following him around for the rest of the time we were there. His mentor was all sorts of upset. In any case, he found someone to remove the stinger from his leg. He coated it in resicarbon. Gave it to me as a gift.”
“Dragon venom making my throat feel this way?” Dovai asked.
“No. I have the knife filled with Kindami fish venom,” Mara said, holding up the knife until the light reflected off the poisonous sheen on the edge. “Works a whole lot faster than the dragon's. The nerve conduction for the fish juice takes seconds where the other takes minutes or longer. The stuff I use causes your coordination to go all stupid before it knocks you to the floor.”
“Why spare me?”
“Because I still need information and the Kursaadi have lost enough daughters.”
“I won't tell you anything,” Dovai croaked.<
br />
“You see, that's debatable. As a warrant officer assigned to a Triton DOG pack, that makes you the intel guru. Everything I need to know for your mission is in that cell-com, but I need a three-stage key to get it. I could just crack it, but then my slicer would have to wade through a sea of garbage Triton loads on there as bait. I don't want the bait. I want the actual mission info. I'll get it eventually. I just don't care to wait that long for it.”
“And why would I give that to you?”
Mara pointed to a weapon laid on a cloth next to Dovai. “Because you're carrying an Ursaada in your kit. That weapon is a crucial piece of identity for an Uram Knight. You must have had some training before it was cut short. Judging by the response I got when I mentioned it, it was during the time the Ur faced off against the Exiles in the Exodus Wars.”
“We lost everything in that war.”
“Not everything. There's a community of Kursaadi on Elysium being protected by the Athalon.”
The shock on Dovai's face was undeniable. The haze from the Kindami venom flushed away, bringing her to stark alertness. “What does that mean?”
“After the war, we did what we could for our allies that fared worse than we did. Your people suffered so much after the Exiles shelled your planet into a lifeless rock. We gathered up the ones we could find and offered them a place in the Shivan Valley. They've made a real home for themselves there. Your people, your culture, all thriving. Some years back some of the marshals encountered a group of Ur traveling the Frontier. They settled into the colony for a bit until they went looking for a world to relocate your people. There's still two Uram masters in the valley training the next generation.” Mara stood, sheathing the dragon stinger-knife in her kit.
“And you'll take me to this valley if I unlock the cell-com.”
Mara wagged the cell-com in her direction. “Up to you.”
“What kind of Ur would I make if I did that?”
Mara tossed the device into Dovai's lap. “The kind that knows her word to keep her people safe from harm is more important than some secret she's keeping for a corporate hack who wouldn't do the same for her.”
“Some of my team are still alive?”
“More than some,” Mara hinted.
Dovai took the device, entering a series of codes to unlock the hidden drive. She handed it back to Truveau who threw it to Zane.
“On it, Marshal.”
“See that she and her team are loaded up. Set a rendezvous back to the ship. Triton can come get them from us on our terms. Arrange passage to Elysium for her. Keep it quiet.” Mara ordered.
“Yes, ma'am.” Zane acknowledged.
Lancers lifted Dovai's stretcher. The alien struggled to sit up to better address her opponent. “Marshal Truveau. We are the circle.”
Mara waved her hand, indicating for the lancers to carry her out.
Zane returned to his marshal's side. “What does that mean?”
“Old Uram saying. It means this thing between us is going to come back around at some point.”
“You think she's going to get trained and come after you?” Zane asked.
“That's a bridge I'll cross when I come to it. Assuming I live that long.”
“That's cheerful.,” Zane huffed. “Totally unrelated, you ever seen anything like this?”
Mara took a piece of resicarbon armor. It was scored from a baster bolt, obscuring part of an infinity symbol with a lightning bolt sword through the middle of it. She turned it over, scanning the interior for any other details. “You find any other bodies where you found this? They'd be wearing light colored fatigues or a jump suit with black armor.”
“Nothing.” Zane said.
“They might have scooped their wounded. This is the symbol for the Black Cypher Company.”
“Never heard of them. Any good?”
Mara scrubbed the blaster scoring from the symbol, making it easier to see. “For a bunch of thugs, they're pretty well trained. Mostly mercs that, for whatever reason, can't get a job in the CORAL at a big house.”
“You got that look on your face,” The lance sergeant hinted.
“I don't have a look.”
“Tell that to the look on your face.”
Mara pursed her lips. “Word across the stars is that the Black Cypher Mercs are an ad-hoc QRF for the Dreadmarr.”
“I should have listened to D'Marco.”
“What'd he say?”
“Everything's more complicated when you're around, ma'am”
Mara threw the armored shard back to Zane. “Welcome to my life, Lance Sergeant.”
Eighteen
Tarot slipped through the door to the pilot's compartment. “We have a problem. Merlin's drones picked up a group of vehicles running the tunnel behind us.”
Lasher followed her back into the passenger compartment. “What do you got?”
Merlin brought a hologram into the aisle. “Looks like when we got closer to the surface, there were breaks in the tunnel. It's possible our masked friend sent along some of his minions on grav-bikes. Three to be exact.”
Lasher stuck his digits into the holo, expanding it to take a better look at the image. “Those are rocket-bikes. They're a lot faster than a grav model and they can achieve high altitude.”
“Why would they send those along?” Merlin asked.
“Because they can keep up with the tram. They'll make sure we're riding it to the end of the line. If we ditch or try any tricks, they'll most likely call into a ship that's following along.”
“Or fire rockets at us.” Fluff growled.
“They call them rocket bikes because they're fast, not because they have rockets.” Jester approximated his best impression of a snort.
Merlin enhanced the video, highlighting rocket-pods on the front of the bike's chassis.
“Oh. They had to go and make it literal,” Jester scoffed.
Lasher and Fluff moved toward the back of the car. “That was actually funny.”
“See, ladies and gentle-bots, I do have fans,” Jester preened.
“I especially like it when you load the punchlines,” Fluff hissed on his way by, snagging two of the mines attached to the bot's pack.
“Hey! That's some of my best material!”
“Don't worry, little man,” The Doom Cat purred. “I'll make sure they get it.”
The duo crossed into the armored cargo car. Lasher flicked one of the spider mines held in the Doom Cat's tendril. “Do we want to wreck the train or the wall?”
“Either way is a one way trip through this tunnel. Still, too bad we have to wreck those rocket-bikes.”
“Just me and you in the open sky, eh?” Lasher asked, his grin absorbing the real estate below his nose.
“Sounds like a good time!”
Lasher watched the tram whip through the tunnel. Sporadic beams of light broke the whispy darkness. “Speaking of open sky, when you had breaks in the tunnel, were you able to catch Kel on the communicator?”
“Did one better. Morpheus patched me into the circuit on the train.”
“This thing has outside comms?” Lasher said, sounding surprised.
Fluff tapped his talon on the tram car's floor. “Through the rail.”
“Neat trick. What did he say?”
“He and Kat are aboard Flight Fifteen waiting for us to do our thing. This whole side track we have going on has been a pain for us but got Kel in place all sorts of easy. We got Tarot's pilot on pick up, with Yu and Tolin riding sweep if we need it.”
“You sure this was all on the quiet? I don't want any chance Ziella was able to pick up on this.”
“Don't trust her?”
“Only us, pal.” Lasher said with finality.
“Amen, brother,” Fluff said, fist bumping Lasher with his tentacle.
They opened the hatch to the connector bridge for the last car. Fluff tossed in the two mines. The creeping disks skittered across the floor, climbing onto one of the side walls to magnetically lock in p
lace. A small red light blinked on, indicating they were set for remote detonation.
“This is why we can't have nice things,” Fluff said with a hint of menace in his voice.
Lasher stood in the hatch on the armored car. He dipped into the Crucible, finding the locking mechanism for the car hitch. Angry servos whirred their displeasure at being mystically handled. Lasher pushed his will into the Way, breaking open the safety lock with a metallic ping.
“What are you doing to my train? The magnetic locking system for the safety latch just went from green to broken!” Ziella chimed in from the intercom on the wall of the car.
“RSVP to our pursuers in the resoundingly negative.” Lasher answered.
“You're going to drop the train car on them?”
“And then some!” Fluff giggled into the conversation.
The mongrel pushed out with both hands, a wave of force breaking the tram car from the other two. As the cars at either end of the train were engines, the power to the repulsors held it over the rail. With no pull from the forward facing train, the car slid away from them at an incredible pace.
“You got them in your sights?” Fluff asked.
Lasher watched the feed in his cyber lenses, guiding his power in the Crucible over the train to keep it from slipping the rail. “Stream from Merlin's drones on the top of the car we just dropped.”
“I'm jealous. Front row seat.”
“You could have ridden it all the way in.”
The three bikes dodged around the loose tram car. The riders figured it for an inert projectile, probably dropped from the rest of the train to slow them down. Whatever had dug these tunnels, there was plenty of room for the bikes to seek a safe way close to the walls. The tram passed between the trio, detonating just beyond them. The fury of the mines also ruptured the primary power core for the engine. The rocket bikes were impaled by debris a fraction of an instant before a wave of fire and fury overtook them. The blast blew out the top of the tunnel, burying them in an impromptu grave. The firestorm chased the remainder of the tram on its way through the track.
The Revenant: A Military Sci-Fi Series (Hunter's Moon Book 2) Page 23