Honor the Threat

by Kevin Ikenberry

  A tall MinSha with wrinkles around his maw stood in the rain. “Did you see them, Peacemaker?”

  “Not definitively,” Jessica said. “Your advice to wait for morning is something I should have considered. The native species don’t seem to like your presence.”

  “Nor I yours.” Psymrr replied. “I should have expected your impulsiveness, Peacemaker. Humans have a reputation for a reason. You sweep into a situation, get what you can out of it, and leave like a blight searching for its next meal. Perhaps you should slow down, Peacemaker. Maybe seek some of the peace you want to make? The universe does not work the same way Earth does.”

  “I’ll take that into consideration.” Jessica replied, quickly clenching her left fist by her side and releasing it.

  “You do that, Peacemaker.” Psymrr nodded. “When you wake in the morning, come to the command center. Captain Tirr wants to meet you. He is returning from Sub-Compound…Charlie in a few hours.”

  Jessica nodded. “I look forward to it. I have some questions about your security systems.”

  Psymrr’s eyes changed hue slightly, and his antenna rippled, a trait of surprise. “Very well. You’ll have your chance to ask them. Good evening, Peacemaker Francis.”

  “And to you, Honored Psymrr.”

  The MinSha propensity for hospitality, or the lack thereof, was unsurprising. She’d brought everything she would need. A Peacemaker remained prepared for anything. She walked across the central, open portion of the compound, a hexagon sixty meters on a side, and entered the fortified walls. Her quarters were on the second level, below the security walkways. While there were no windows, she did have a small skylight. It was better than sleeping in a tent or a temporary housing unit.

  You’re the goddamned boy scouts of the galaxy, Bulldog. You gotta be prepared for everything.

  She snorted at her father’s voice. He was proud of her path, but there was a degree of disappointment, too. She felt it. His trust of the Peacemakers didn’t compare to his devotion to the Mercenary Guild. Lack of trust in Humans, it seemed, was a universal response. Everything on Weqq seemed wrong. She tried to replace the thought with the idea of a cool shower and a good night’s sleep, but it didn’t stray far from her consciousness. Something was out there. She hadn’t imagined it.

  Whether it was the TriRusk or something else didn’t matter. The MinSha seemed annoyed she was there, and their “rediscovered species” was nowhere to be seen. No one was going to watch her back. If something was out there watching her, she couldn’t let her guard down for a moment. Looking around the small room, she decided to sweep for and clear away any listening devices before getting out of her wet gear and grabbing some chow. Doing routine things would take her mind off what seemed wrong and help her figure out what was really going on, and what she could do about it.

  Jessica knew she needed all the focus she could muster.

  * * *

  Weqq

  Three Kilometers E of the MinSha Compound

  Lmurr closed the telescopic sight’s covers to protect them from the slightly acidic rain. The Zuul assassin rubbed his eyes and leaned back against the huge tree behind him. Twenty meters higher, where the canopy was thick enough to conceal it, his suspended sleeping platform waited. The heavy rain showed no signs of stopping and the Peacemaker, if she was as good as they said she was, would be preparing her gear and inspecting her surroundings, according to her guild’s standard operating procedures. She would not be coming back into the open that evening and frankly, he didn’t want to sit in the rain anymore. Dryod Four would have been a much easier place to bag his kill, but it really didn’t matter. If anything, being away from the Peacemaker barracks stripped away any anxiety he felt about capture.

  The industrialized life of Dryod Four was tedious. He longed to be alone, away from everyone. Jessica Francis was the latest in a long line of targets he’d taken on to facilitate a long retirement. Having a chance to pursue her here, in the vast, wild jungle, gave him the solace he craved and the opportunity to actually hunt a target. If he played his cards right, to steal a Human phrase, he could drag things out and have fun before killing her.

  From everything he’d heard and observed, the little Human would be an easy target. Like most Humans, she acted like an Earth prairie dog—sticking her nose into the wind every time it blew. All he had to do was choose the time and place to kill her, and it would be as easy as pulling the trigger. He would take his payment from the guild and consider retirement.

  Not likely.

  Lmurr stored the rifle and climbed up the massive tree to his home away from home. The three-meter square was covered and dry. The shielded Delcron tent blocked any infrared signal even if he turned the small hydrogen generator to its maximum power setting. All the creature comforts were there, and he had all the time in the world.

  Jessica Francis did not.

  Lmurr chuckled to himself as he reached the final handholds under the platform. A small bird-thing, not much different looking than the wretched creatures Humans called roosters, clucked at him. He swatted it away, watching it squeal as it fell into the darkness below. Some things didn’t know their place in the universe. Humans and chickens especially, he thought. He’d been to Earth twice. Now that the war raged, and Earth was a target, maybe he could parlay his long service to the guild into a choice property. Maybe an island?

  Lmurr crawled into his warm tent and momentarily forgot his target and his mission. At his age, he could afford some luxuries and still get his job done in a manner suiting both his experience and ability. After all, Jessica Francis was going nowhere. The beautiful thing was she did not know the truth. The Mercenary Guild didn’t want a Human Peacemaker.

  They didn’t want Humans at all. The Mercenary Guild’s orders were simple. Kill Jessica Francis.

  * * * * *

  Chapter Three

  Luna

  Peacemaker Guild Consulate—Earth

  Selector Hak-Chet entered the Guild Master’s chambers at the beginning of the day, several hours before local dawn. Master Rsach, like his predecessor, had fallen in love with cacao from Earth. While the bitter hot drink of choice, espresso, was not something palatable to the Sidar tongue, he did enjoy the rich smell.

  “Selector Hak-Chet.” Rsach said from behind his working station. “It’s been a few months since our last conversation. I’d hoped to only see you at annual gatherings, but I’m afraid we’re going to have more chances to talk.”

  “What’s the issue, Master Rsach?”

  Rsach waved a collection of his small limbs at a nearby chair. “Sit down, my friend. I need your counsel and your knowledge.”

  “I will support anything you need.”

  Rsach bowed his head slightly. “Peacemaker Francis.”

  “She’s stationed at Dryod Four. I believe she’s performing admirably, though standard procedure there is for new assignees to man the—”

  “I know that.” The Jeha sank into the opposite chair, his long, millipede-like body contorting unnaturally into the contours. “They’ve assigned her to a mission on Weqq. The MinSha at the research station there believe they’ve located a feral TriRusk colony.”

  “What did you say?” Hak-Chet sat forward. “It’s been four hundred years since the last sighting. Are they certain?”

  Rsach steepled a dozen limbs in front of his chest. “Enough to call for a Peacemaker. The only way to confirm the identity is genetic sampling. Jessica can certainly do that, but to ascertain if they are feral requires forward observation. The MinSha are not going to engage them. The team leader is much too cautious for that. At least, he wisely sent a message for immediate assistance and Peacemaker engagement. The station chief was off duty at the time of the request. Jessica was on the duty desk and was summarily assigned to investigate.”

  Hak-Chet took a breath. “She’ll be fine, Master Rsach.”

  “My friend, I know she will be fine, but there is something more. A mercenary company from Earth filed a
jump plan to Weqq and jumped within three hours of the message arriving at the barracks. I am suspicious and believe something else is in play.”

  Hak-Chet nodded. “Do we know what their contract is?”

  “I’ve requested it from the Mercenary Guild.” Rsach replied. There was nothing wrong with his request. As the Guild Master, Rsach could do whatever he wanted with any guild, at any time. “I want you to investigate the barracks at Dryod Four. I need to know who leaked the information.”

  “You believe the Human mercenary company is going to try and engage the TriRusk?”

  Rsach sighed. “I doubt there are any Humans who know of their existence. If they do, they are unaware of the economic importance the TriRusk represent. I believe this company has a mission that may put the Peacemaker at risk. That’s why I summoned you, Hak-Chet. I need to know what she will do if faced with other Humans.”

  Hak-Chet opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He closed it and looked down at his hands for a moment before speaking slowly. “Master Rsach, I cannot say. I believe Jessica Francis represents the best of what we can produce from the Peacemaker training program with a Human being, and were she to come face to face with them, she would follow the letter of the law.”

  Rsach did not appear convinced. “And what if this company acts outside the law? Would she sympathize with them because of their humanity?”

  “You’re asking me if she can be trusted to act as a Peacemaker? She set up her ex-husband for her first mission. Easy target or not, he and his company were entirely Human. Jessica chose the guild over her friendly bonds. We commissioned her, Master. We did so believing she would uphold the law like any Peacemaker before her,” Hak-Chet said, his voice rising slightly. “I do not doubt her.”

  Rsach nodded. “I know you don’t, old friend. But, faced with a situation involving other Humans in conflict with an alien race, could she be turned?”

  “Like a mob mentality? Just fall in with whatever they were doing?” Hak-Chet shook his head violently from side to side. “Absolutely not.”

  Rsach said nothing, and Hak-Chet understood immediately. The Guild Master had doubts, and those doubts could derail everything. “When we brought Earth into the Union, do you remember the initial reports on Human behavior? Their tribalistic tendencies fall along separate lines based on race or ideology. But they also have an instinct, when mistreated, to come together and forget those things. Earth is threatened, Hak-Chet. There are those who want humanity to fall.”

  “I believe they will be in for a long fight, Master Rsach,” Hak-Chet replied.

  “Undoubtedly. My point is that Peacemaker Francis must know of the threat to Earth. And faced with a group of Humans, regardless of their contract, she could side with them out of that survival instinct, could she not?”

  Hak-Chet rubbed the underside of his long beak. “I believe Jessica will uphold the law. And I believe she will be the catalyst for greater things.”

  Rsach nodded, a long movement of his upper body. “That is my hope, Hak-Chet, but hope is not a method.”

  Hak-Chet smiled, and his old friend’s limbs waved in a similar response. Hope was a feeling. A method had a definitive starting point and an end goal. “We’ll know more when we find out what their contract is.”

  “I have all I need to know to launch a supporting operation. I believe Peacemaker Francis is in danger, Hak-Chet.”

  “What do you propose?” Hak-Chet replied.

  “Nothing.”

  Hak-Chet blinked. “What do you mean nothing? If she’s in danger, we should support her. Wouldn’t we do the same for any other Peacemaker?”

  “We would.” Rsach said. “But in this case, I want to see what she does.”

  “Another test isn’t fair, Rsach. Jessica has passed every test we’ve given—”

  “Listen to yourself! Jessica has passed every test. I know she has a track record of sheer excellence, Hak-Chet. I wanted her to fail because I wasn’t ready to have a Human Peacemaker. But she keeps succeeding. The speaker isn’t happy with her mere presence. I fear there are those who want her eliminated.”

  “Then we have to get her out of there.” Hak-Chet twisted his hands and tried to control his rising rage at his guild and his oldest friend. “She deserves our protection.”

  “Jessica Francis is a Peacemaker, Hak-Chet. Like all of our guild, she deserves protection, except that she is a Human. With very few exceptions, I do not believe Human beings can be trusted.”

  Hak-Chet shot to his feet. “Listen to yourself! They can’t be trusted? Then why did you allow me to bring her into the fold?”

  “Because I wanted you to prove me wrong.”

  “She’s done exactly that! Get her out of there before something happens to her.” Hak-Chet pointed at Rsach. “Don’t you remember Minet-2a? When the guild swooped in to rescue you because the situation grew out of your control?”

  Rsach contorted forward and stood, towering over the older Sidar. “I remember it every time I close my eyes. Do not use my own combat experiences against me.”

  “The guild saved your life,” Hak-Chet said. He stared at the Guild Master for a good thirty seconds until the Jeha looked away.

  “The guild did save my life, Hak-Chet. I lost control of a situation that nearly cost ten thousand lives. Had the guild not acted on my behalf, a war would have started that might still rage today.” Rsach slumped a little and turned to the curving wall of his office. “The difference is much more than Jessica’s humanity. Like you, I believe she can be trusted to fulfill the duties of her office. And, like you, I hope she can be more than we imagined her to be.”

  Hak-Chet tried not to look surprised. In more than five years of recruitment, training, and operations, Rsach had never referred to Jessica by her given name. “Then what do we do?”

  “There is a variable we haven’t considered.”

  “The TriRusk? Didn’t you say they were feral?”

  Rsach turned back to the Sidar. “I’m not going to chase dreams. I don’t believe any more than you do that the MinSha have found a long-lost tribe of TriRusk. There will be an explanation, I’m sure. A MinSha research station would not have the firepower or the manning to fight back against a Human mercenary company, which is what Jessica would recommend, given a choice. The MinSha diplomats would resist her efforts and search for a peaceful solution. They will talk her down and ground her.”

  Hak-Chet cocked his head to one side slightly. “Perhaps. Even the MinSha will fight, given a difficult enough situation.”

  “Perhaps, Hak-Chet. Depending on the Human company’s contract, there may not be anything she can do.”

  “But you’re still concerned she would side with the Humans even if there were something she could do differently.”

  “I am,” Rsach said. “That Human mercenary company is the key. They’ll indicate how Jessica will respond.”

  Their own intelligence officers would have copious files on the mercenary company in question. “I assume we know who they are?”

  Rsach nodded, but the hairs along his wide chin quivered. Hak-Chet felt his stomach sink before the words came out. “Reilly’s Raiders.”

  Hak-Chet’s jaw worked as he tried to find the words. Peacemakers tended to evaluate mercenary units on a combined scale from 1 to 5 in areas like ability, combat power, reasoning and logic, trustworthiness, and honor. Most of the Human units, save for what Humans called the Four Horsemen, tended to average somewhere in the 3 range. Reilly’s Raiders was a zero and one of the worst units in the Union. They were little more than pirates. Why the guild had sent them to Weqq no longer mattered to Hak-Chet. Whatever their contract was spelled danger for the MinSha, the supposed TriRusk tribe, and Jessica Francis. Words failed him, except for a particularly appropriate phrase he’d heard Humans say often in the mercenary pits.

  “Sonuvabitch.”

  * * *

  Aboard the Satisfaction

  Reilly’s Raiders, Enroute to Weqq

&nb
sp; “Again!”

  Tara Mason got to her feet, ears ringing from the left hook she hadn’t seen coming, and tried to focus on her opponent. Bakkus stood a full head taller, and he outweighed her by more than a hundred pounds of muscle—and stench. The bald mercenary smiled at her from across the ring. The catcalls and whistles of the rest of the company rained down on her as she staggered backward against the ropes and tried to make the world stop spinning.

  “Hey, Bitch! I said again! That means you fight!”

  Tara looked at the source of the voice. Raleigh Seamus Reilly sat on what could only be described as a throne, overlooking the mayhem. Tara swiveled her head just in time to see Bakkus charge her from across the ring, one massive fist reared back to deliver a knockout blow. He closed the distance with unnatural speed, and Tara reacted the only way she could. Bakkus slowed to swing, and she dropped to her knees on the filthy mat, bringing her own fist up into Bakkus’ crotch. The mercenary howled and collapsed to the floor.

  “Foul! Foul!” The chants grew as Tara rolled away from the writhing man and grabbed the ropes to pull herself to her feet. On his dais, Raleigh raised his fist for quiet, and the crowd of mercenaries hushed in an instant.

  He grinned savagely down at her, even as he wobbled slightly. The man spent most of every day drunk, save for the evening fights. “You think that’s a legal move? You broke a rule, Miss Mason. I can see why no other mercenary unit on the fucking planet would have you. What do you have to say for yourself?”