by Mia R Kleve
As she neared Tossen’s front exit, she heard a loud commotion of some type and paused while security personnel jogged past the windows, heading toward the guild offices.
“Now what?” she asked and stepped into the street.
The whump of an explosion rippled through the ground, causing her to stumble. Instantly, she recognized the detonation as a grenade. Jessica started running toward the guild building and toward Victory Twelve berthed on its roof. She had to ensure she met with guild officers to leave behind the mercenary life, and she had to protect that ship! As white and gray smoke billowed into the street, she tapped her slate and ordered the Marauders to recall and secure their ship. Whatever the trouble was, Jessica meant to keep her family and her ship safe. Drawing her pistol, Jessica shouldered through the hesitating security officers on her way to the front door.
* * *
“So,” Hak said. “They fought. She left. Now what?”
“Well,” Hr’ent started, but his attention snapped to his slate as it beeped with a message notification. “If I’ve timed this right—and I think I have—I will have an answer for you in about five minutes.”
He swallowed the rest of his drink and rose to his feet. Hak said nothing, but his question was clear from his expression.
Hr’ent told him, “Stay here, my friend. Order another drink. I’ll be back soon with a very good story, trust me.”
* * *
Smoke streamed from the guild building entrance as Jessica approached. The doors looked like partly severed limbs, bent out of shape, each hanging from a hinge. A merc, a Zuul, lay sprawled across the stoop, its green and yellow armor flayed open, its exposed paws and head shredded and burned. Six Veetanho fled through the opening, trampling the corpse and squealing shrilly in their panic. By their raiment and demeanor, they were office workers there; they couldn’t have caused this.
So, who…?
No security personnel seemed willing to go inside yet, but some of them had holed up four Zuul near a mobile supply container down the street. All the mercs there wore identical armor to the dead one.
Keeping low, Jessica moved through the entrance, careful to avoid slipping on gore or debris. The smoke was fast dissipating, though it still tinged the air inside. Hugging the corridor’s right-side wall, Jessica crouched low, her M1911XR sweeping ahead and beside her. The corridor’s left wall had been glass, and it had shattered across the lounge beyond it. The floor was strewn with bodies. Five weren’t moving, two of them were piled together against the wrecks of chairs in the lounge. But those she could see in the elevator foyer were alive and conscious, some grappling on the floor, some writhing and holding their heads or else gushing blue blood from neck and paw wounds. All of them were Zuul. All of their armor was the green-yellow she’d seen outside, although the two distinct design patterns among them indicated there were two companies present.
What the hell happened here?
She was thinking of alternative routes to the Victory Twelve and backing toward the street again, when she saw something strange. Another Zuul was in the foyer, pressed up against the back wall. But this one appeared old and frail. And he was using a motorized chair. The old Zuul regarded the surrounding fray with wide eyes, with no way of getting by the wrestling bodies. If some idiot pulled the pin on another grenade…
Jessica snarled, charged forward, and vaulted bodies. This might not be her fight but letting an aging cripple die wasn’t in her nature either.
The mercs who recovered enough to skirmish again seemed content to use teeth and claws, although two were drawing knives as they climbed to their feet. At the edge of the foyer, one peered up at her from the floor. He had madness in his eyes, murder in his expression, and he was fumbling for his pistol as his other paw reached for her. Jessica shot him point blank, spreading the back of his head across the carpet.
She was a few meters from the older male now. To her right lay the elevator, blocked by recovering mercs, already swinging at their opponents. To her left was an emergency exit, the green light above it indicating an active, unlocked door. But there was another Zuul between the chair and the door, getting groggily to her feet and looking around for her next opponent. Her gaze settled on Jessica. She took a step forward and bared her teeth in challenge.
That was all the excuse Jessica needed, and she charged. At the last second, as the Zuul stepped forward to swing a lethal set of claws, Jessica dove, tucking herself into a tight ball, and rolled into the merc’s legs, bowling her over. She came to her feet behind her felled opponent who’d fallen onto all fours. Stunned, the Zuul’s head came around to seek Jessica…and met the butt of Jessica’s pistol coming the other way. Gun met skull with a dull thwack. It was lights out for the merc, and time for Jessica to get the old male out of here. Holstering the pistol, she kicked the unconscious merc’s legs out of the way then grabbed the back of the chair.
“Wh-what?”
“Getting you out of here, sir,” Jessica replied and hauled the chair backwards. She used her ass to bang through the exit and found that she’d brought them out into a service alley. She pivoted the chair around and gave it a push so it rolled a few meters further. Kicking the door shut, she strode after the chair, scanning her new surroundings. Apart from the guild offices, the alleyway backed on restaurants, tattoo parlors, and a brothel. It had an exit at either end leading to broader thoroughfares. Five stories above her, shuttle pads stretched between buildings, blocking the sky and forming a false ceiling.
The Zuul regained control of his chair and turned it to face her. One paw rubbed his ears.
“I should thank you!” he said, much louder than necessary. Was he deaf? Or were his ears ringing from the earlier concussion wave? His free paw patted her hand, then he pointed upward. “My shuttle’s up there! If you could take me there, I’d be even more grateful!”
That’s where I wanna go too, gramps, she thought wryly. Now if I could just find a way up there. She’d have to find another building out on the main thoroughfare with access. But which way? Left or right?
Before she could decide, the emergency exit banged open again. She whirled, dropping to one knee, her M1911XR drawn. A female Zuul had burst through. She too dropped to her knees, one paw held out in supplication, the other braced to stop her face-planting. She didn’t look so good; her mouth was hanging open in distress, blood stained her teeth, and her face was riddled with small cuts. Were they claw-marks, or lacerations from flying glass splinters? Her scratched and pitted armor indicated close proximity to the blast.
“Wait,” she croaked. “Don’t take him anywhere.”
“You’re not in a position to give me orders,” Jessica snapped back.
“You don’t understand. He’s the one responsible for this.”
Jessica frowned. “What?”
The merc’s attention wavered, chin dropping for a moment before she rallied her strength. “My name is Commander…Ren Hahnu. That male owns my company. And…and the other company. He set us against each other. Fed us lies. He…he is the one ... the one who—”
She collapsed, her legs spasming to kick against the door, to block the door. Blocking the door was good. Jessica holstered her weapon, darted over, and rolled the Zuul over to check the slate fixed to her left forearm. While the data displayed was in standard Zuul, the layout of the personal diagnostics were the same, despite the species. Her pulse was strong, but erratic. That might mean internal bleeding as the heart worked harder to do more with less.
Without rising, Jessica turned her head. “What in the hell did she mean?”
She froze.
The elderly Zuul no longer looked frail and infirm. He was out of his chair approaching her on steady legs. He also had a pistol of his own, aimed at her chest. “It’s unfortunate you heard that,” he said in a strong, level voice. “Most unfortunate, Human. Throw away your weapon.”
Scowling, Jessica lowered her pistol to the ground and, with a shove, sent it sliding and spinning awa
y.
The Zuul sneered down at her. “See where your dull-witted sympathy has gotten you?”
Jessica allowed her shoulders to droop as she knelt there, as if defeated and despondent, her hands dropping to her sides. Her left hand—hidden by the angle of her body—went to her boot where she kept her knife. Her fingers curled around its handle.
“You may have the drop on me,” she told him, “but I’m not as dull-witted as you think I am. And neither was she?”
“You know nothing.”
Jessica jerked her chin at his chair and the slate poking out of it. Both appeared state-of-the-art and expensive. “I know you were up to something. I know you have money. If this merc’s right, and you started an altercation between them, then maybe…” Her voice trailed off as she joined a few dots in her head. She smiled. “Maybe you’d decided it was time to disband them, but you didn’t want to pay their severance fees. Easier to report them dead in combat, right? I’m sure it’s something like that. When my friend here comes around, I’ll know the rest of it.”
Sudden anger wiped the haughtiness from the rich Zuul’s face. He stepped closer, the paw holding his weapon shaking in fury. Jessica’s hand tightened around her knife, easing it from its sheath. “Neither of you will—”
“Razzik!” boomed a voice.
The Zuul flinched and jerked around. Seizing her opportunity, Jessica drew the knife and flung it. The blade struck true, slicing his wrist. He staggered toward his chair with a cry, pressing the wound to his side. Jessica sought the source of the voice and saw the hulking form of an Oogar who had come out of the dead space alongside the guild building. In one massive hand was the unmistakable badge of a Peacemaker. He carried no other weapon. She rose carefully to her feet and sidled toward where her pistol lay.
But the Oogar’s focus was entirely on Razzik, who kept backpedaling toward his chair. “Elder Razzik, I could drag you to your guild for multiple financial crimes, the most serious of which is embezzlement. But I think I’ll add murder to your charges after today’s little fracas.”
“I…I have done nothing. I am a sick, old Zuul.” He dropped heavily into his chair and his slate clattered to the alleyway, his paws going to his chest as if to massage his heart.
Jessica bent to retrieve her pistol, but she wouldn’t need it. The Oogar had this under control. She was a witness to a story she’d recount for years ahead.
“Razzik, Razzik, Razzik,” scolded the Oogar. “Your crimes came to our attention through our Luna-based consulate. You foolishly attempted to launder credits through a series of Human companies. While generally good people, Humans don’t launder credits well, and we saw your intent months ago. We intercepted messages between your secretary and you, so we knew all about your plan for setting your mercs against each other in hopes of a little skirmish that would see them suspended, then you would be able to divest yourself of them without paying their salaries, and would also create some sympathy for you. Bet you didn’t expect them to toss a grenade, though!” The Oogar looked to Jessica and shook his head ruefully. “Can you believe this arrogant, greedy bastard?”
“Well, can you believe this?” Razzik snarled and, from the folds of his tunic, produced a small ballistic pistol. He brought it up to aim at the Oogar, but Jessica put a round through his chest. She checked the Oogar who was standing with an expression of mild shock but no damage. She stepped over to check the Zuul in the chair.
Panting hard, Razzik hissed something before the light went out of his eyes, and he folded over, dead.
“What did he say?” the Oogar asked.
Jessica put her pistol away and stooped to pick up Razzik’s slate. “Sounded like ‘I hate Peacemakers.’”
The Oogar laughed at that and nodded solemnly to her. “Enforcer Hr’ent Golramm. Well met.”
“Jessica Francis.” She blinked. The giant Oogar was a legend in the Peacemaker Guild. “Well met.”
“Thank you,” he said and winked. “I appreciate you helping me apprehend this fellow.”
Jessica wanted to ask how he knew her name. Instead she asked, “How did you know we were back here?”
“Feeds from the guild’s security cameras. There is always information lying around if you’re willing to look for and use it.”
She wanted to ask more, but she turned toward the merc lying near the door. “We should help her.” Listening, she realized she couldn’t hear any clamor coming from inside.
“Security officers are in there now,” Hr’ent told her, checking his slate. “I have requested paramedic support. They are en route also.”
Another figure appeared around the corner of the guild building and for a moment, both Human and Oogar tensed.
“Golramm!” the stranger gasped. The shadow resolved as a Sidar with its hands clasped in front of its wings.
Hr’ent groaned. “Hak! I told you to stay put.” He pointed up to where Jessica noticed a camera mounted. “I would have shown you recordings of the whole thing.”
“I was curious,” replied the Sidar. He pointed to Razzik’s slumped corpse. “Dead?”
“Very,” Jessica and Hr’ent said together.
“Oh, this is bad, Golramm,” the Sidar fussed. “Is this a game to you? Setting up all these overlapping little plots? All you’ll accomplish is calling unnecessary attention to the amount of intelligence we’re collecting on other guilds.”
“Now, now,” Hr’ent said. “It’ll all work out, trust me. Here, watch this.” He tapped something onto his slate and passed it over.
Remembering she held the Zuul’s slate, Jessica silently passed it to Hr’ent who cradled it in one paw like a tiny toy.
“I don’t want to watch something,” the Sidar continued. “You brought me here ostensibly to interview a Human. Not to get caught up in a breach of conflict and embezzlement scandal.”
Jessica gasped, remembering her interview. And realized…
Hr’ent grinned at her as he reached over and tapped his slate’s playback for Hak. Jessica couldn’t see it, but the sounds of earlier conflict were familiar. And then her own voice said, “Getting you out of here, sir.”
A few seconds later, Hak looked up, calmer, quieter. He said, “She charged right in there to protect him.”
Hr’ent nodded. “This Human stood for someone in need. Her instinct was just and honorable. No hesitation. She only used extreme force when threatened and to defend an ally.” He gestured to Jessica. “Selector Hak-Chet, this is Jessica Francis. I have five hundred credits that says she’ll be the first Human to complete the Peacemaker Academy.”
You have gotta be shitting me. Somehow Jessica kept her face straight.
“No bet. She’s a natural.” Hak-Chet smiled and shook his head as he turned to Jessica and extended a bony claw. “Well met, Miss Francis. I look forward to your enrollment in the academy with great anticipation.”
* * * * *
Peter J. Aldin Bio
Peter J. Aldin is a nerd. An Australian nerd, but a nerd nonetheless. He is author of the space opera crime novel Eventide (and has written paranormal thrillers under the name Pete Aldin). His working life is split between empowering people with disabilities to start and succeed at new jobs, and designing courses and courseware for training companies. Find him at petealdin.com
* * *
Kevin Ikenberry Bio
Kevin Ikenberry is a life-long space geek and retired Army officer. As an adult, he managed the U.S. Space Camp program and served as a space operations officer before Space Force was a thing. He’s an international bestselling author, award finalist, and a core author in the wildly successful Four Horsemen Universe. His eleven novels include Sleeper Protocol, Vendetta Protocol, Runs in The Family, Peacemaker, Honor the Threat, Stand or Fall, and Deathangel. He’s co-written several novels with amazing authors. He is an Active Member of SFWA, International Thriller Writers, and SIGMA—the science fiction think tank.
# # # # #
Gumbo by Matt Novotny
&n
bsp; “What was that?”
Jackson Rains entered the bridge just in time to see a large metal panel blow past the forward screen as the Peacemaker Guild corvette screamed toward the planet’s surface.
“Incoming fire!” said the tactical officer.
“Evade! Deploy countermeasures! Activate PDLs and heat up the missiles,” ordered Captain Lorm. The Cochkala spoke in calm, measured tones while gesturing angrily with her tail.
“Aye, Captain.”
“Comms, broadcast the ceasefire orders again.”
“Aye, Captain.” The comms officer turned to his board. “Avbo combatants, Avbo combatants, this is the Peacemaker Guild corvette Turunmaa inbound to conduct negotiations at the request of the Mercenary Guild. A ceasefire is now in effect. You are ordered to—”
Rains braced against a nearby console as the helmsman put the ship through a series of abrupt maneuvers.
The captain gestured at Rains with her tail. “Peacemaker Rains, I suggest you make yourself useful and find out who’s shooting at my ship. Let them know if they are still firing when we hit the ten-mile limit that this will be a short mission for all of us. To answer your question, we seem to have lost one of our in-atmosphere braking panels.”
Rains scrambled for the comm station and grabbed one of the handrails just as the ship shook from another near miss.
It’s never easy, he thought.
He nodded to the comms officer, who tied in his headset and nodded to let Rains know his comm was live.