“Nice piece,” he said, doing his best to appear sure of himself.
Mr. Darcy aimed at his chest. “Now, is the Terran heart on the left or the right? I can never remember.” He chuckled again. “Like I said, it’s just business.”
“Speaking of business,” Randai added quickly, surprised by how cool his voice remained. “I heard you have a job that needs doing, and your specialist is…indisposed.”
Mr. Darcy waved the gun around. “No thanks to you. How is it you know of this job?”
Randai reached into his pocket, and the bodyguards behind the White Dragons boss raised their weapons. Randai cracked a smile. “If I came here to kill people, you’d all be dead already.”
“Weapons down, boys,” Mr. Darcy ordered. “He’s not going anywhere.”
Randai slowly lifted Chiak’s compad from his pocket and waved it in the air. “You should really tell your boys to take better care of their gear. Wouldn’t want this falling into the wrong hands.”
“That’s got tier-five security. Same as they use in the SIA. You hacked it?” He appeared impressed.
Randai shrugged. “Like I said, I’ve got skills.”
“What is it you want this time, Randai?”
“You’re in need of a shooter.” He opened his arms. “Not only is the best shooter on the station standing right in front of you, but he’ll do your job for you if the price is right.”
Mr. Darcy laughed. “I didn’t realize you had such big balls, Randai, I’ll give you that. But any one of my men can take that shot. From where I’m standing, you don’t have much to bargain with.”
“For one thing, it would be a shame to ruin such a nice rug.” Randai pointed at the colorful mat on the floor in front of him.
“And?”
“And—” He threw the compad to Mr. Darcy. As the boss reached out to catch it, Randai spun on Max and disarmed the Varg before he even knew what had happened. Using Max as a shield, he blasted the guns out of the bodyguards’ hands, leaving Mr. Darcy the only other person still holding a weapon.
Save for the music, the private club fell quiet.
Randai was as surprised as anyone else that he’d pulled it off but didn’t let it show. It had been a long time since he’d fired a gun. He pressed on. “My guess is Chiak was your best shot, and going by that compad, it sounds like a job that even he would have struggled with.”
The bodyguards retrieved their weapons.
“Stand down men.” Mr. Darcy set his gun on the table and flicked his cigar ash into a tray before drawing a long puff and blowing the smoke out across the desk, creating a haze. “See this?” The boss looked around at his people. “This is what we need. Someone with initiative. Why can’t you all be more like this?” He bit down on his cigar and clapped slowly.
His guards looked around the room confused, and Randai tried his hardest not to cock an eyebrow.
“Clap, you morons. This crazy bastard deserves a round of applause.”
A half-hearted applause slowly spread through the lounge.
Randai felt as confused as everyone else looked, but he maintained his passive expression. He knew timing was everything, and when the clapping subsided, he lowered his weapon and pushed Max aside. Instead of returning the Varg’s blaster, Randai secured it in the back of his belt. The gun was several grades higher than the one he’d left with the Urlocks.
“Okay, Randai.” A golden smile split Mr. Darcy’s face, and another cloud of cigar smoke spilled out from between his teeth. “You’ve got my attention. As you say, I need a marksman. You mentioned a price?”
“My terms are simple. The job will cost you the artifact and five thousand credits. The artifact and half the credits up front to cover expenses. The rest when the job is done.”
Mr. Darcy chewed on his cigar as he considered the proposal, his eyes calculating. “It must be precious to you, this artifact…” He rolled the word around his tongue as if savoring its taste.
“It’s a family heirloom,” Randai lied. “Sentimental value. If I weren’t drunk, I wouldn’t have used it as a wager. You understand.” He eyed one of the collectibles in the stands to drive home the point.
“You can have all the credits up front.” Puffs of cigar smoke blew from Mr. Darcy’s nostrils. “I’ll hold onto the artifact…for insurance.”
Randai hadn’t accounted for that, but he also hadn’t expected to get so far. He looked around the room, noting that more guards had arrived…too many for him to handle. “You have yourself a deal.”
“I’ll also need to assign someone to help you. Can’t have you doing all the heavy lifting on your own now, can we?”
“I work alone,” Randai objected.
“Don’t take me for a fool, Randai.” He pointed his cigar studiously. “You’re one of those tricky ones. I may need your help.” He leaned across the desk. “But don’t think for a second that I trust you.”
Having a White Dragons thug tag along would complicate things, but he couldn’t risk Mr. Darcy changing his mind. “Fine. One guard. But no Vargs.” He smirked at Max. “No offense.”
“Fine,” Darcy agreed.
“Whoever you assign will need to stay out of my way. Someone fast on their feet would be best.”
“I have just the person.” Mr. Darcy turned to the bodyguard on his right and barked something to him in Vargon.
The guard vanished behind a beaded curtain.
“I also want your word that no harm will come to the doctor,” Randai pressed.
“Now, Randai. I’m a businessman, not a barbarian. I’ve always given the good doctor more leeway than most. She serves our community well, after all. I’m sure Varkal can forget one little incident.”
Brutus didn’t look too pleased about that but grunted agreement all the same.
It didn’t convince Randai, but there was nothing more he could do on the doctor’s behalf at present.
The bodyguard returned with a young Shanti in tow. The boy couldn’t have been older than fifteen.
“Meet your new partner, Cho.”
Randai nodded at the Shanti, and the boy looked away in disgust.
“Cho, you’ll help Randai out with a job. And you’ll do as he says until that job is done...within reason, of course.” Mr. Darcy rubbed his hands together and pressed a button under his desk. A wall parted to reveal a screen. The White Dragons boss cracked another golden smile. “Let’s work out the details then, shall we?”
Randai rubbed his chin. For a change, he’d won a roll of the dice, but it was only a matter of time before his luck ran out.
14
Gate Six
The first rays of morning poured through the command-tent entrance as Grimshaw dropped two effervescent pills into his synth-coffee to maximize their effectiveness. The tent was a simple cuboid structure: a dark green canvas slung over poles with camo-nets thrown on top. In one corner, an unrolled blanket marked the bed he hadn’t slept in. A makeshift table and chairs dominated what remained of the small space. Atop the table was a holocom that Briggs had stripped from the Barracuda’s sickbay before she blew.
The previous evening, Grimshaw and his team were forced to abandon the vehicle a mile outside of camp where the growth thickened. Three junior officers dug Wedgey a shallow grave and Grimshaw briefly paid his respects before they left on foot, those not supporting the injured carrying what equipment they could. Darkness had fallen by the time they arrived at the camp deep in Raugh Forest.
Aegis Eline had the guts of a base established. Camo-nets and tents had been erected, and some kind of order was taking shape. For someone so young, Eline ran a tight shift, but there was a lot to do and little time for rest.
Grimshaw spent the night laboring over strategies for getting into Targos city, organizing personnel, and making sure the wounded were cared for. Fortunately, Officer Eko Andrews had salvaged an assortment of equipment from sickbay and had built a medical team consisting of herself and three medically trained cadets. If not for
sickbay’s self-contained life-support chamber, those who took refuge there wouldn’t have survived the Bakura’s crash.
Officer Andrews entered the command tent and saluted, snapping him from Grimshaw reverie. Andrews stood tall: an inch or two shorter than him. Nut brown hair framed her round face, and large round eyes rested indifferently on her high cheekbones. Before leaving Fleet Academy Four, Andrews looked so youthful and innocent, but after a night in the medical tent, she looked as worn as Grimshaw and twice as ragged.
“You requested another report, sir?”
He fought the urge to rub his burning eyes. “How are the injured?”
“Thirty-one currently receiving care, sir. Four in critical condition, but we managed to stabilize a few others.”
“There were thirty-eight in total the last time we spoke.”
Andrews gulped, and Grimshaw knew he wasn’t going to like the words that followed.
“We lost seven in the night. With such limited facilities…” Her voice trailed off, and she avoided eye-contact.
“That leaves us just short of a hundred and twenty sailors, and a quarter of those injured.” Grimshaw stared beyond the tent entrance and tried to run the numbers, but his mind refused to cooperate.
“We’re doing all we can, sir,” she said a touch defensively then recomposed herself. “Sorry—”
“I wasn’t complaining, Andrews. I’m just thinking out loud. How long before we can move them?”
“Most will be back on their feet within the next few days given plenty of rest. The others.” She sighed. “It’s hard to say. Could be weeks if they hang on that long. Gear and meds are in short supply.”
“We can’t transport them?”
“Not as things stand.”
Grimshaw attempted a smile. “Thank you, Andrews. You’re doing a great job. Keep it up.”
Her features softened a little, and she nodded.
He signaled for her to leave, but she hesitated. “Is everything okay?”
“Sir, some feel that more information about our situation will help the spirits of the sick.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure.” Grimshaw scratched his wiry stubble. “Truth is, with the enemy scrambling our communications, we won’t know what the situation is until Aegis Eline and the others return from scouting. I expect another medical report at thirteen hundred.”
“Yes, sir.” She nodded again and left.
Grimshaw could have done with more officers like Andrews. Most of the Bakura’s senior staff had been on the bridge, and there was no telling what had happened to them. Grimshaw hoped that they had more luck than he did. Aegis Eline, Lieutenant Dann, and Ensign Saunders from Stork Delta made up the guts of his command team. Weapons Officer O’Donovan had been designated as a nominal squad leader, and Grimshaw promoted two cadets with gumption as acting officers. Several other capable sailors, such as Briggs and those in the medical tent, filled vital roles that precluded them from command.
Grimshaw set a communications team to work on breaking through the enemy scramble and establishing a link with the bridge, or the city…or anyone. Despite their working through the night, they made little progress. In the early hours, a scout team had been sent out to do things the old-fashioned way.
He tried to talk Eline out of it since her safety was paramount to the mission, but the Aegis insisted that she led the scout team and there was nothing Grimshaw could do about it. He assigned Martin and Stone to look after her. Of those available, they held the best simulated combat records. They left long before sunrise and Grimshaw was starting to worry that they still hadn’t reported back.
Walking to the entrance, he rubbed his weary eyes as a ray of light filtered through a break in the gray sky and penetrated the forest canopy. He nodded to the guards stationed at the entrance and made his way to the makeshift communications hub.
Some sailors quietly worked on tasks while others rested against trees and crates. Grimshaw walked from the camp-proper to a small raised glade, greeting those keeping watch as he passed. In the center of the clearing, a tall antenna reached for a narrow gap in the canopy. Briggs and a cadet hunched over various pieces of equipment surrounding the array.
“Any progress, Briggs?”
The groggy, scar-faced officer pointed to the scrawny cadet with glasses. “Bates here has come up with an idea.”
“Let’s hear it, cadet.”
“Yes, sir.” The kid gulped. “They appear to be using a complex destructive interference algorithm—”
“Give it to me in Galactic.”
“Of course. Sorry, sir,” he stuttered. “They are still jamming us, but I have a theory on how to get around it by tapping into a communications rig in the hills south of here.”
“Has it worked?”
“We were just about to request permission to try it, sir.” He looked at Briggs then back to Grimshaw. “There’s a risk.”
“It’ll give away our position?” Grimshaw asked.
“Not exactly, sir. As long as we’re searching the waves, we’re okay. But as soon as someone makes contact, it could give the enemy enough data to triangulate our position.”
“What kind of area are we talking about?”
Bates closed his eyes briefly as he worked the problem out in his head. “It depends on where contact is made, sir, but thirty square miles, give or take.”
“That’s plenty. The enemy already knows we’re in the general area. If they wanted to flush us out, they would have done it already. Well done, Bates. Let me know when you’ve found something.”
“Yes, sir.”
The cadet excitedly returned to his controls with one hand while holding a headset to the side of his head with the other.
Grimshaw hovered a little longer in case something happened but eventually decided he was probably making the kid nervous by standing over his shoulder. He stifled a yawn and made his way to the storage area for more coffee.
A cadet intercepted him as he left the glade.
“We just received a short burst radio signal on the perimeter, sir. Aegis Eline’s team is back. She wanted to inform you that they will be ready for a briefing at zero six-hundred.”
Grimshaw checked his SIG and swore. That didn’t leave time for fresh jo.
Tastes like piss anyway.
“Thank you, Cadet. Dismissed.” Grimshaw informed the command team on the short-band vox channel, instructing Briggs to continue his work with Bates. He returned to the command-tent and found Aegis Eline, Martin, and Stone were already waiting.
They exchanged greetings as Lieutenant Dann, Ensign Saunders, Officer O’Donovan and the two acting officers arrived on his heels.
“Did you find a route into the city?”
Eline gestured to her fellow scouts, and Martin loaded a holofile. A wire-frame outline of Targos City and its surrounding geography cast a blue hue on the tent’s interior.
“The forest narrows here.” Aegis Eline pointed north of their position. “The Barracudas could make it through in a day and take this route across flat ground to Sector Eight.”
A dotted line appeared along the route she suggested.
“It leads us forty miles out of the way, and most of that’s without cover,” Martin added.
“Too far for the Barracudas,” Lieutenant Dann said. “Even at full speed, enemy air support will cut us to pieces before we make it halfway.”
“I still think we should hole up here until the Confederation sends help,” Saunders piped up.
Grimshaw tapped the table. “We’ve already been over this. The Confederation won’t know about this situation for weeks, perhaps longer if the enemy keeps blocking communications. For all we know, they control S-Gate Horizon.”
“All the more reason to wait,” Saunders argued. “How can we do anything without comms?”
Grimshaw struggled not to snap.
“We already have our orders, Saunders,” O’Donovan said. “We’re going to get Aegis Eline to Xerocorp Labs.”
“We don’t know the situation in Sector Eight. It was beyond range, and we didn’t see any Confederation forces in the sky. We’ll have to assume the enemy got them. Our only other option is going on foot, which means leaving the wounded behind.”
“It’s not ideal, but let’s hear it,” Grimshaw said.
“There’s a dirt track not far from the forest edge a few miles east.” The holoform moved in response to Eline’s gestures. “It reaches into the rocky hills then twists back down all the way to the gates at Sector Six.” The Aegis swiped again, and the view moved from the dirt road to the plains beyond the city. She played the footage they’d captured. “Not far outside the walls of Sector Seven, we could see an enormous hole. The area around the hole moved like a sea.” Eline zoomed in, and the boiling land became a countless mass of moving bodies.
It reminded Grimshaw of an ant nest. “There must be tens of thousands of them. What the hell are they?”
“Hard to tell without getting closer, sir,” Martin said. “But they appear to be humanoids of varying sizes.”
“Mercenaries?” O’Donovan asked.
“We don’t think so,” Martin said. “I think it’s a race we haven’t encountered before. Whatever they are, they seem to be arranged into two separate groups.” The holoform zoomed at Martin’s command and he pointed at a section of the enemy army. “See here how the taller creatures wear what look like black TEKs. The smaller ones are in brown armor.”
“What the hell are they doing?” Saunders asked, making no effort to conceal his horror.
Eline took control of the holoform again. “It was difficult to tell in the dark from that distance, but it looked like they were digging.”
“Could they be digging tunnels under the city?” an acting officer suggested.
“Maybe that’s how they got inside the walls.” Eline purred. “But why such a large hole?”
“Whatever it is, I don’t like it.” Grimshaw watched the area around the hole heave and contract. “We already have too many unknowns. How are things inside the city?”
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