by Mia R Kleve
Voth pushed the oppressive music from his mind and scanned the interior of the only bar in the starport. The lighting was low, but he was still able to see clearly. Most of the illumination came from patterns of neon lighting along the walls. The décor was fairly industrial, with exposed steel and burnished aluminum used liberally for the bar, tables, and chairs. The walls were a gray metal and looked as if they’d been stripped from the interior of a salvaged starship.
A handful of Lumar sat in a tight group in the far-left corner. A dozen or so Duplato were spread throughout in twos and threes, along with a handful of other races, talking and raising glasses. Except for the Duplato, most of the patrons had sidearms strapped to their belts. In the far-right corner, Voth spotted the group of Pendals he was looking for. They were hard to miss. The hoods of their telltale cloaks were pulled low over their wide-mouthed heads as they sipped at their drinks. One cloak was dark gray, while the other two were brown.
A few of the patrons, though none of the Pendals, glanced in Voth’s direction when he entered, but nobody looked twice. He’d opted to keep his Peacemaker badge inside his jacket, and his clothes were nondescript: a simple black jumpsuit with a thick hide jacket to ward off the chilly winds of a Sylphux winter. He had a GenSha-manufactured pistol holstered low on his thigh and two combat knives secured to his belt in the back, the grips down for easy access. The pistol was a 15mm semi-automatic slug thrower with a twelve-round magazine. Two spare mags were carried in front of his right hip for easy reloading.
He moved through the place as discreetly as a two-meter GenSha could and stood before the Pendal in the dark gray cloak.
“Captain Yobovo?” he asked as he stepped up to the table.
All three Pendals went still and stared up at him from within their hoods with those strange, wide-set eyes. Voth towered over them, and he probably outweighed all three combined, although they, like the Lumar, had four arms.
“You’re a long way from home, honored GenSha,” Yobovo said quietly. His eyes darted to Voth’s pistol as he set a glass of pale green liquid in front of him. “I can’t imagine what might have brought you to my table.”
Voth cautiously looked to his left and right to see if anyone was staring. The other patrons seemed far more interested in their own conversations.
“May I sit?” he asked.
“Please,” Yobovo replied confidently.
Voth’s limited experience with Pendal expressions told him the captain was probably curious. He reached over to an empty nearby table and pulled up a much larger chair than those that held the Pendals. He took his seat, and the chair creaked under is weight.
“I’m Voth, by the way,” he said as he settled in.
“So, how can we help you?” Yobovo asked. “Do you seek surreptitious passage off this chilly little world? Perhaps to avoid the local constabulary?”
“Far from it,” Voth replied, trying not to smile at the irony. “Although, I am happy to hear you are so forthcoming with such arrangements. It should make this easier.”
“All credits spend the same,” the captain said easily, “and we are decidedly disinterested in the plots of the other races.”
“Dulk Tomar,” Voth said, cutting to the chase.
All three Pendals focused on him more intently.
“A recent Lumar passenger aboard the Botai.” The captain leaned back. “I will assume you are not an old friend.”
“Correct.” Voth leaned forward. “You said you are not interested in the plots of others. Does that also mean you don’t inhibit the plots of others?”
“You see the truth of it,” Yobovo said, nodding.
“Well, what I need is a very simple thing.”
Yobovo exposed a mouthful of sharp, pointed teeth, the Pendal version of a smile. “What might that be?”
“I need to know what Dulk is planning and where he was headed once he off-loaded the cargo from your ship.”
“Well,” Yobovo started slowly, “such information obviously has value, or you would not have come all this way to seek it.”
“How about two rounds of drinks?” Voth offered. He knew he was low-balling, but something told him the Pendal wasn’t really after anything and just wanted to play the game. Starship voyages, after all, had a lot of boring downtime.
The captain flashed another smile.
“Make it three, and I’ll tell you what I can about my recent passenger, although I can assure you, it isn’t much.”
“Three it is,” Voth agreed.
“I believe there are three pieces of information that you might consider valuable.” The Pendal leaned in and one of his independently tracking eyes shifted toward where the Lumar were sitting. “I…overheard him in Botai’s mess hall,” Yobovo said. “He kept to himself during the entire voyage but had a strange habit of muttering during his meals. I got the impression he was headed toward a Duplato mining settlement forty klicks north of the city. They mine iridium, I believe.”
“Okay, that’s one,” Voth said.
“Before he left the Botai, he booked passage with us to the Strahkos Auction House Station located within the asteroid belt that rings this system.”
“Did he say why?” Voth asked.
“He did not,” Yobovo said simply. “However, he did arrange passage for sixty-eight other Lumar males as well as fifty metric tons of cargo.”
Voth’s eyes went wide.
“Sixty-eight Lumar?” Voth blurted. “What on earth could he be planning?”
“I wouldn’t hazard a guess,” the captain said. “He did seem rather determined, however.”
“When are you scheduled to take off?” Voth asked.
“Forty-eight hours,” Yobovo said. “With or without the Lumar,” he added. “Although, I would prefer it was with. He’s paying for his passage with a metric ton of iridium ore.”
Forty-eight hours isn’t much time to sort this out, Voth thought. And if he has sixty-eight Lumar with him, a firefight in the starport would be both messy and ridiculously long odds. He doubted he’d be able to convince Dulk to simply surrender under any circumstances. Then something else occurred to him. Only a metric ton of iridium?
“That doesn’t seem like much for sixty-nine passengers and that much cargo,” Voth observed.
“It’s a short hop to the belt,” Yobovo replied. “And we were headed there with a mostly empty hold anyway. The bulk of our cargo will be loaded at the Strahkos Station for delivery…elsewhere.”
I’ll have to go to the mine. Voth didn’t like the idea, but there wasn’t much choice.
“I don’t suppose I could convince you to delay your launch,” Voth offered.
“I’m a ship captain, not a Peacemaker, friend.” Yobovo tilted his head to the side slightly, both eyes fixed on Voth. “Schedules are schedules, and you don’t have that kind of money. Besides, I leave policing up to the authorities,” Yobovo added with a peculiar expression on his face.
Does he know? Voth thought. Unlikely, but it doesn’t matter.
“Understood.” Voth rose from his seat. “Well, I do appreciate the information. You have been most helpful. I’ll let the bartender know about the three rounds.”
“Most appreciated,” Yobovo said. Voth turned to go. “Oh, and Voth, if Dulk isn’t able to make it to the ship in time, it would only be a slight loss, and one we could easily bear if we had to.”
Voth glanced back to find all three Pendals looking at him with blank expressions on their faces.
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Voth said, then went to the bar and arranged for the three rounds of drinks.
* * *
4
Three hours later, Voth nestled his two-seater aircar, retrieved from the small hold of Sarikon, into a narrow canyon about a klick outside the Botsuwa’avum Open Pit Mine. The mine was a sprawling crater in the mountainous landscape, two klicks wide and nearly a kilometer deep. It had looked like an asteroid impact from space when he’d first made his orbital insertion, and it
now lay just over the next hillside.
Coming in, he’d kept his aircar about fifteen meters off the ground, using sensors and image enhancement to navigate the increasingly hilly terrain in the moonless night. He’d scanned the ridgeline with IR as he approached to see if anyone appeared at the sound of his lift fans. When nothing appeared, he cut the power plant, zipped up his black infiltration suit, and pulled the hood over his head. The suit would mask his thermal signature to about ninety-seven percent, and in the darkness, he’d be virtually undetectable to anyone without enhanced optics. As the aircar turbines came to a stop, he heard a faint, mechanical droning loud enough to penetrate the cockpit of his aircar.
The mine, he thought. They’re working non-stop.
He pulled the optic enhancers, commonly referred to as OEs, from his belt and scanned the hillside directly ahead of him. Like the rest of the terrain, it was lightly forested with clusters of thick, reed-like plants rising four to ten meters into the air on stalks anywhere from a centimeter to fifteen centimeters in diameter.
Time to get moving.
The clock was ticking, and he needed as much intel as he could manage if he was going to apprehend Dulk in the next forty-five hours…and do so without getting killed by the equivalent of three armed platoons of Lumar.
He climbed out of the aircar, grabbing his heavily silenced carbine and three grenades from the rack built into the narrow space behind the seats. He slung the rifle, clipped the grenades to his utility belt, and checked to make sure his sidearm and knives were secure. Glancing at his chrono one more time, he secured his vehicle and set off up the hill at a medium pace.
The air was cold enough to see his breath, but the hood was designed to channel what he exhaled into his suit to help keep him warm. Every thirty meters or so, he scanned the hillside and ridgeline for any heat signatures, but aside from a few small creatures of indeterminate shape and intention, there was only the cold night air. The closer he got to the ridgeline, the louder the mine became, and he was grateful for it. With the grinding of metal treads and chewed up rock, nobody would ever hear him coming.
He was about twenty meters from the top of the hill when he checked with the OEs again. He froze and went down into a crouch. The thermal outline of a small figure, well over a meter tall, crept through a small notch in the ridgeline.
Definitely not Lumar, Voth thought. He continued to watch as the lone figure sneaked between the clusters of trees, obviously heading away from the mine and doing so surreptitiously. The being moved slowly, methodically, and did so on all four limbs. Its arms were much longer than its legs, and it seemed to be hunched over though still mostly upright.
Duplato, Voth deduced. One of the miners? But why is he sneaking out?
Its outline didn’t give any indication that it had a firearm, but it could still have a blade or a small needler hidden somewhere. Voth considered a number of possibilities, but there was only one way to know for sure.
He changed his course and began stalking the unhurried Duplato. Voth did his best to move quietly through the trees, fairly confident the noise from the mine and his training would keep him from being detected. He stayed in the Duplato’s rear quarter. The species was most comfortable underground, and their arms ended in fairly severe claws that were useful in mining operations. Voth definitely didn’t want to grab the being, if he could avoid it.
His long stride brought him up behind the Duplato in short order, and he drew his pistol when he was a few meters behind it. He didn’t want to shoot, but he would if left no other option.
“Halt,” Voth ordered in a firm voice, “and remain quiet.”
The Duplato froze in his tracks, and his long arms shot up into the air.
“Please!” he cried. “Don’t kill me! I-I was just looking for some tubers to eat. We’re all so hungry!”
“Turn around.” Voth leveled the weapon, prepared for anything.
The Duplato slowly turned to face him, its eyes wide, and then it relaxed, at least a little.
“You’re not one of them,” it said in a melodic voice.
“One of who?” Voth asked.
“One of the Lumar.” The Duplato cocked his head to the side. “They’ve taken over the mine.” He got a confused look on his face. “What are you doing here?”
“No, I’m not a Lumar. And I’ll ask the questions for now,” Voth said, holding the pistol steady. “What are you doing?”
“Trying to get us some help,” came the immediate reply. “I don’t want to die.”
“So, you’re being forced to work?”
“Yes. We all are.”
“Curse their ancestors,” Voth growled, gritting his teeth. He holstered his pistol and pulled a flap aside on the infiltration suit, exposing the Peacemaker badge affixed to his chest. The badge gleamed faintly in the darkness, but there was no mistaking what it was. “I am Peacemaker Voth Kobun.” The Duplato’s eyes went wide, and then Voth covered it back up. “Put your arms down.”
“Gladly,” the Duplato said, relieved.
“What’s your name?”
“Ginkhur. Are you here to save us?”
Voth blew out a frustrated breath. Things were terribly complicated. He had hoped he would be able to track Dulk to a hideaway where the big Lumar wanted to lay low for a while. This was infinitely harder. He’d been prepared to simply follow Dulk up to the asteroid belt, hoping for a better opportunity that didn’t involve facing Dulk’s fellow Lumar. But with the miners basically enslaved and only forty-four hours to resolve the matter, he was running out of options. Voth’s mind raced. He needed more information.
“What do they want the ore for?”
“Their leader, a Lumar named Dulk, hasn’t said, although we think it’s to buy more weapons. The others took over the mine and locked it down six weeks ago, and Dulk just joined them a week ago. They said nobody would get hurt, so long as he and his fellow thugs could take half of whatever we mined by tomorrow morning. At first, only some of them had weapons, but now most of them do.”
“Why would he need more weapons,” Voth asked, “especially on Strahkos Station in the belt?”
“Strahkos Station is why we think he wants weapons.”
“I don’t understand,” Voth said.
“When the Lumar first arrived, they brought with them a MinSha. It was badly injured, and for the next few days, they tormented it; we could hear its screams. When the Lumar threw the body into the pit, we saw what they’d done. Its eyes had been gouged out and most of its limbs ripped off. The wounds were sealed with dermaplas…so it didn’t bleed to death.”
“They questioned it?”
“The entire time,” Ginkhur said, shaking his head. His voice was full of fear and pity. “It was all about something that happened in the asteroid belt. Apparently, a group of MinSha slaughtered over a hundred of Lumar up there. The MinSha was sorry…it said its orders were to kill the Lumar laborers once the job was done.”
“And you believe it?” Voth asked. “That the MinSha wiped out a Lumar crew in the asteroid belt?”
The Duplato looked down, and he shook his head. When he raised his head, there was a mixture of both sadness and anger in his eyes. “Yes. Mates and young as well.” The Duplato let out a frustrated sigh. “That’s part of the reason we acquiesced at first. We felt at least some compassion for the Lumar. It seems Dulk’s brother and entire family were among the dead. I overheard several Lumar say the bodies are still up there, drifting lifelessly through the core of a mined-out asteroid.” Ginkhur locked eyes with Voth. “Compassion is a two-edged sword, Peacemaker, and it cut the other way when Dulk’s people killed a dozen of mine because they didn’t want to work.” The Duplato stared at Voth. “He’s mad, you know, grief-stricken beyond reason. He keeps muttering to himself about killing them all, although I can’t say I really blame him.”
“Doing something about the slaughter of his people is one thing,” Voth said, “what he’s done to get here, is another.”
Frustration crossed Voth’s face. “No,” he said.
“Then, they’re coming, right?”
“No. It’s just me, and that’s all there’s going to be before the Lumar leave.”
“Then my people are dead.”
“Why do you say that?”
Ginkhur looked nervous. “Dulk assured us we’d be left alive, just locked up in one of the shafts until they lifted off.”
“Dulk has left people alive when he didn’t have to…on two separate occasions.”
“As strange as it seems, I believe his intentions,” Ginkhur acknowledged. “Like I told you, he’s mad. I can’t really tell you why, but I suspect he would see himself as doing exactly what the MinSha did to his kin. He sees himself as a hero—above the MinSha. But he may very well be alone in that sentiment. Several of the other Lumar drilled holes in the mine entrance where they plan to put us…holes that could only be for explosives. They tried to hide them from view, but I’ve been doing this a very long time. I know detonation bores when I see them.”
“Blasted Lumar,” Voth said. “I don’t see a clear way out of this without your people paying the price.” He looked at Ginkhur. “I need to see what’s down there. And you’re going to tell me as much as you can about the mine as you can.”
“All right, Peacemaker, although I don’t see how much difference you can make by yourself. Even with my people’s help, we’d just be kicking off the slaughter a bit sooner.”
“Maybe,” Voth said. “But Lumar are easily enraged and generally aren’t the brightest stars in the sky. I just need the right setup…and a catalyst.”
Ginkhur shrugged. “If you say so.”
“Do they have any night vision or IR equipment?” Voth asked.
“Not that I’ve seen.” Ginkhur shrugged again. “They’re mostly miners…and a dozen or so local thugs who rallied around the death of those in the asteroid belt. About fifty of them now have battle rifles, and there are two vehicle-mounted weapons on the two trucks down there.”