The Shattered Stars: Breach of Contract

by Vance Huxley

  “Guns. Never mind, all your Basteds are in the same mood.” Guns sighed wearily. “This might help.” He slid a news print across the desk and tapped the headline. The highlights told the story.

  “TERRORIST ATROCITY. Earl and family savagely attacked and murdered. Attackers linked to THULL 83B terrorists. Notorious Cutter gang finally cornered and slain.”

  The pictures showed three burned-out cars with guards and figures in civvies scattered near them, then the faces of Cutter and Carver staring with sightless eyes.

  Guns tapped the pictures again. “I’m told The Horseman went up and down the links you supplied in two days flat while the arse sat smirking and patting himself on the back. That’s him, his family and their personal guards, who must all have had at least had a hint. Or maybe not, but this is a message and not for the Plebs.” Guns pushed the print further. “Put it on the board in the canteen.” He smiled tiredly. “Your patron has expressed public satisfaction with how the investigation has been completed, and her shock and horror at the loss of life in complex THULL 83B. She regrets the death of a trusted colleague. Herself declared a disaster in THULL 83B within hours and moved teams in to deal with the casualties and damage, but now nobody will be interfering with them.”

  Bobby put the print up and within an hour the party started. Hood took Magpie back to the squad quarters after a few drinks when she became decidedly tearful. There were still men who didn’t know she wasn’t a hard as nails male Trooper.

  * * *

  “Yesss.” Bells grinned and rubbed finger and thumb together. “Pay up.”

  Bobby eyed the screen of sheets across the end of the quarters, hiding the last bed of the eight. The short skirt laid on the floor at the end of the bed showed that Magpie might not have been all that upset, or had recovered enough to get changed out of her Trooper uniform into a skirt she allegedly hated. A skirt she’d allegedly thrown away. Bobby grinned as Hood’s sleepy voice rose from behind the screen, followed by Magpie’s. “Not a chance Bells. You last made that bet over a year ago, not about tonight.”

  Bells flicked the pair a bit, while Bobby and Siflis shrugged and let them get on with it. Hood and Magpie shared a bed permanently after that. Hood still kept his gear in his own locker of course, in case of inspections, and the pair kept the noise down if any of the others were in the room. Hood’s close protection became a little closer, and definitely keener out on missions. Bobby worried about someone else spotting a change but even those who knew about Magpie’s sex never noticed.

  Though all the Basteds noticed how the missions altered after THULL 83B. There were more where the Basteds ended up doing their own infiltration, or at least some of it, and gradually more and more Basteds learned how Beebi managed that. Men often did some of the investigating, but a quiet woman who took menial jobs and never asked questions brought the best results. Since they had already fought alongside Magpie and a good few Basteds knew about her knife work on the drug boss, she didn’t get any grief. In their own way the Basteds who knew were proud of her, a woman tough enough to be not just a Trooper but a Basted.

  * * *

  Over two years after THULL 83B, Hood’s squad had become Magpie’s primary protection squad whenever she went undercover. She still acted as Hood’s close support on sniping and scouting missions, but not on this one. Magpie, dressed in a skirt and blouse, stepped out of the shadows and into her squad who closed quickly around her. She sagged against Hood, briefly, and then straightened and faced Bobby. “Got him, or them. That’s all three of the leaders on vid and tomorrow night there will be a meeting with one actually there.”

  Anticipation showed in Bobby’s voice. “The bomber?”

  “Yes, he’s shown at last. He only makes them and never takes part in planning, and that’s why we can’t catch him.” Magpie yawned. She’d been working extra shifts after one of the staff had been conveniently mugged. Shifts wearing the little bug that recorded whispers across a crowded room, and the tiny vid recorder in a blouse button.

  “That and the suicide switches.” Bobby spat in disgust. Twice they’d caught a bomber placing the charge and both times he or she had detonated the device. That had cost Bobby three men, two dead and one retired, crippled.

  “Maybe not. There’s a few rumours that the suicide switch isn’t exactly voluntary. The last one, the woman, wasn’t the type according to friends. Now, can I get out of this bledrin women’s gear?” She huffed in annoyance at a faint ripple of laughter.

  “You are a bledrin woman.” Bells sniggered. “Though we’ve never seen the underwear to prove it.”

  “I’m a Trooper. My tags say so, and it’s illegal to be interested in another Trooper’s underwear.” The squad moved around Magpie, turned their backs on her, and a few minutes later the group had one more Trooper and one less woman. One Trooper stuffed a bundle of clothes into his pack.

  “Our secret weapon.” Magpie grinned at Bobby in reply. She had become invaluable because the one thing every Pleb knew was that all Troopers were men. With a skirt and a tight blouse Magpie obviously wasn’t a man, and her collection of wigs hid her Trooper cut. Magpie didn’t infiltrate, because that was what The Horseman’s lot were supposed to do. She just served drinks in a caff house or worked on a market stall and put her finger gently on the local pulse without anyone, even the spooks, knowing she existed. Then at the first hint of a suspect she wore the listening bug, or the tiny vidcam.

  Right now Magpie had been working in a caff house. Not the real pure caff but enough above the usual to have a steady client base. The spooks had put the caff house on a list of possible meeting places. Magpie had just spent three months working down that list including three weeks in this particular caff house because she’d struck gold. Meanwhile the rest of Beebi’s Basteds rattled cages all over the complex, smashing the local crime infrastructure. Not to catch the main rebels because they were too smart, but to make sure that the usual underworld stopped operations. That way the rebels stood out better and any strike against them wouldn’t run into opposition from local gangs.

  After four and a half years, Beebi’s Bigger Basteds were honed. Not the same men after all the casualties, because the Trooper Rapid Reaction Force were brought in for the difficult jobs. Right now Area Manager Eriksson, Guns, had given them the job of breaking a small rebel group. A rebel group with eyes inside the Troopers, or electronic bugs at least. Smart rebels who demanded better working conditions and were building support while slowly bleeding the local Troopers and their employers, CyberBlast-Sage computing conglomerate.

  Troopers had been ambushed in the housing complex, transport links had been periodically severed, and there had even been explosions in the plant itself. Most of the damage had been caused using bombs without exposing the main players. The bombs were sophisticated devices which incorporated CB-S electronics as an additional slap at the local employer.

  Snook, the other scout, came out of the shadows. “All clear. Nobody followed her and there’s seven pairs out covering all the ways for target one to get clear. They’ll watch for any other target as well.”

  “Good. Another couple of nights and we’ll know where at least one of them actually goes at night.” The three main suspects had a net of Pleb eyes out around them so nobody could try and follow or snatch them. Once tentatively identified by Magpie, however, suspects were put on a list and pairs of watchers installed on routes they might take. Then the next night the watchers moved to another possible spot until the right route or routes were slowly filled in and the destination identified. The same method quickly weeded out the innocents since they went straight home every night.

  The rest of Reaper’s squad came up to collect Snook and the two squads headed to the barracks. At least this time the local Troopers knew that Beebi’s Basteds were here. The TRRF often used that name for two reasons. It backed off nosy Supers, and stopped the locals from realising they were anything but a blunt instrument. On other occasions the locals never even k
new the Basteds were in the area until people started dying but that complicated logistics.

  “Caught them yet?” The gate guards sneered, a normal response because despite all the raids the bombers were still active.

  Hood just raised a finger and kept going as it never went past a sneer. A figure with plenty of polished brass moved to intercept and Bobby sighed. “Go on in. His lordship wants a word.”

  * * *

  The Area Manager responsible for the local Troopers and the safety of the CyberBlast-Sage housing complex and manufacturing facilities really was a Lord, a Baron, which Bobby now knew meant well down the nobility pecking order. Though still a long way above a Trooper, even a Sergeant three, far enough above to be really ticked that Bobby didn’t come under his authority. “Any progress Sergeant?”

  “Slow but sure slur.”

  “Lose any more men?” The basted had decided on flickin Bobby about his losses. Again.

  “None of yours either, since they knew where the last two were planted, slur. The rebels are sticking to breaking material now after losing a few members themselves.” The last broken ambush cost the rebels half a dozen operatives, and really had knocked them back.

  The Baron kept pushing. “When will you actually catch anybody important? Have you identified them yet? Just give me the word and I’ll drop a hundred men and armour on their doorstep.”

  But they’d be gone when the hundred arrived. Bobby knew that and so did Lord Ellis-Brante if he thought about it. “I’ll let you know as soon as we have a target.” Bobby couldn’t even blame the man. The Baron no doubt got grief from his employer, and then some semi-secret trouble shooters had been foisted on him to solve his problems. Not a recipe for promotion, even for nobility. “If you don’t mind, slur, I’ve been on patrol and need to sort out the debriefs and clean up.”

  Lord Ellis-Brante returned the salute and stamped off, straight to complain no doubt since Bobby’s coms bleeped before he could get to a shower. Three words. “Sit-rep. How long?”

  Bobby sent an even shorter reply. “Two weeks.” Then he headed to his quarters and worked through the reports from various watchers and squads, so that if asked he could be more specific. Finally finished, Bobby went for his shower and cursed to find Hood leant against the shower room door.

  “She won’t be long.”

  Bobby smiled. “You’re not scrubbing her back?”

  Hood smiled in reply. The big, previously serious man smiled a lot more these days, ever since the evening the rest had come back to find that screen hung up between the end bed and the rest of the room. “No, but if you want yours done?”

  “You volunteering? Or does Magpie want company?”

  “No. But there’s a couple of Troopers who were fighting over sod all and there’s no latrines to dig here.”

  “I’ll think of something disgusting.” Bobby leant against the wall and waited. He could only blame himself because he knew Magpie always came late for her shower. That way it wasn’t too obvious that Hood’s squad let her shower alone though only the reinforcements didn’t know about Magpie being a woman. Their woman, a Trooper, a proper Beebi’s Basted who pulled her weight and did her own killing. They’d only recently arranged a fatal training accident for a new man who seemed a bit too nosy, Horseman sort of nosy, about who went undercover. The spooks had to be trying to figure out how the Basteds worked because not even Guns knew.

  Hood broke the short silence. “Sarge, I’ve got a problem.”

  “You must have, to call me Sarge.”

  “Yeah, well, it’s a sort of official problem. I want to make this official, somehow. Me and Magpie. You know?” Hood wriggled, embarrassed.

  “Do you want to marry her or just make her a dependent so she gets the blood money?” A sudden thought hit Bobby. “You haven’t gone and... Well you have but is she pregnant?”

  “No! I’d like to marry Maggie, but even if she said yes she’d be discharged and I’d never see her except on leave.” Hood shuffled a bit more. “She’ll not get pregnant because Magpie is careful. She’s got some of the tablets the Divas use. It’s just that one day, maybe? But in the meantime if I cark it?”

  There was one way, Bobby thought, without letting Guns know. “Sometimes a Trooper will make a squad mate his heir if he’s got no family. That way someone gets the blood money, the death payments, so you could do that.” Bobby blew out a long breath. “But not more if you want to keep her here. Even Guns would probably chuck Magpie out if he knew about her being female.”

  “It’s a wonder he hasn’t guessed.”

  “Maybe it’s like the notsi. Guns does know but as long as we do the job Area Manager Gunnar Eriksson won’t ask.” Bobby didn’t think so. A big difference yawned between a notsi or two and having a woman in the squad. “Do you want to risk asking him?”

  “No, forget it. Well not entirely, can you sort out the blood money thing?” Hood still sounded almost embarrassed and kept his voice down.

  Which puzzled Bobby. “Doesn’t Magpie know? That you feel like this, that you’re asking?”

  “No.” That came out almost a whisper. “She keeps saying that she’s been lucky and that’s enough for her.”

  “Talk to her. At least let the lass know how you feel.” Bobby felt like the big Trooper’s Da about now, rather than four years younger. “Do it before making arrangements. Magpie might want to do the same.”

  “You think?” Hood sounded startled.

  Bobby rolled his eyes, unseen by the sniper. The woman had a choice of at least a score of fit, dangerous men if she just liked the type. Instead Magpie stuck very strictly to Hood and never even flirted with anyone else. She flicked a few, but they all knew it was that, just flickin. If the situation had been a bit different Bobby thought they’d be married and waiting for the first kid by now, though then she wouldn’t see Hood more than a couple of weeks a year. Being a Trooper didn’t encourage home life.

  Magpie came out fully dressed, of course. Even in the barracks she kept fully clothed in her padded gear except when in their own quarters, and mostly then. “About time. I give you the clean jobs and you still take longer than anyone else.” Magpie grinned, giving Bobby the finger as Hood moved to meet her. They walked off side by side. No hugs, no holding hands, and even looks had to be neutral outside the barracks room. At least they could sit with each other in their quarters and relax a bit even if Bells teased them. Away from their home barracks the pair never relaxed properly.

  Bobby dismissed Hood and Magpie from his thoughts, concentrating on the mission as he showered. They had narrowed the blocks where the other two leaders lived but hadn’t actually nailed the apartments down. In the end Bobby decided to risk losing them temporarily, because now he’d got vid of their faces and could find them again. The bomb maker would die tomorrow night and the Basteds would raid the caff house. He’d arrest everyone there including Magpie, shut the place down, and squeeze any small players. Done like that the other two rebels wouldn’t realise they’d been made as well, but there’d be no more sophisticated bombs.

  Bobby wasn’t sure if the talk with Hood had pushed the decision, because this way Magpie would be publicly arrested and couldn’t be used for any more undercover work on this job. The woman had been undercover a long time in this one complex even if she changed her hair and clothes styles between jobs. It only needed someone to remember seeing her in another place that had been raided and she’d be dead, if she got lucky. The young woman who had been more frightened of Pleb rioters than Bobby and the Troopers had come a long way from then, but she still faced the same fate if it went wrong.

  He also wondered if he’d been doing this type of job too long, getting too close to the Plebs. A bit of him wanted at least one of these rebels to get away. With one of them still out there CyberBlast-Sage might have to treat their Plebs a bit better to stop the movement growing again. This group actually had quite reasonable demands and a bit of Bobby couldn’t see why the Company couldn’t
have a least met them partway before it came to bombs. He sighed. That was way above his pay grade. Troopers were trained for one purpose. They really were the Company Guard Dogs, the Doggies.

  * * *

  Hood sat in the back of the troop carrier, holding Magpie and cursing in a steady monotone. Bells stood by the door into the front of the vehicle so nobody else could come in, because the crew weren’t Basteds and Magpie still wore her skirt and blouse. “It’s just a knock on the head, Hood, she’ll be fine.”

  “But that could be bad, really bad. She might have brain damage. Even if they save her, it’ll mean a proper hospital, and they’ll know.” Hood looked up, and Bobby was pleased he’d made sure only their squad and a few very trusted others came in this carrier. The big man’s feelings were written all over his face. Even they weren’t, the way he cradled Magpie’s unconscious body in his arms would have made it clear she wasn’t just a comrade. “I’ll lose her anyway. Though as long as she lives I can manage that.”

  Bobby wasn’t sure Hood or Magpie could manage separation, not after living together for so long. He had to cut back on Magpie’s undercover crap because tonight one of the rebels had made her. Luckily the squad covering her were alert and reacted fast enough. Bobby snorted to himself, Hood was always on edge when Magpie went undercover but this time it worked out. A rebel had come to meet the bomb maker, looked at the waitress, and did a double-take. He shouted, “She’s a spy!” and grabbed Magpie.

  Magpie stuck a knife in him and made a break for it, but one of the other men got her with a chair. By then Hood had already shot the two who produced guns. Even as Magpie dropped, Bells and Siflis came in through the door with knives and pistols and went viral. There wasn’t anyone left to interrogate. Reaper nailed the bomber when he slipped out the back to get clear. “You’ll have to put her in a Trooper uniform, Hood. Before we get back, or everyone will know.”

  Hood looked worried, but for once Bells put him at ease. “We won’t look you eedjit, and even I’m not stupid enough to offer to help. She’d cut my nuts off even if you didn’t.” He grinned. “I bet she’s not wearing the sexy stuff anyway, not on a job.”