>
Tara swung the CASPer’s torso toward her wingman. “Thanks, Oso.”
There was a chuckle on the frequency. “You’re a crazy bitch, Deathangel 25. Firing a rocket like that?”
“Best I could do.” Tara smiled.
“Nice work, Boss. I’ve got the lead. Let’s get patched up and come back in the morning with help.”
A flush of pride shot through her system. The quiet wingman, the pilot seemingly most trusted by Raleigh, had called her boss and complimented her tactics. Tara wiped sweat from her face and took a deep breath.
“Lucille, you walk us for a bit, will you?”
<
Tara pressed both hands to her face, covering the silly grin and the happy tears threatening to erupt from her eyes. Things were looking up, and, with any luck, a good recommendation would be hers. If not, she knew that having a trusted wingman would work out well for her and Oso alike. The bad situation—the awful leadership—could be salvaged with a coordinated crew response. She could make it work.
“Better than I’ve been in a bit, Lucille. Just need a moment to get my shit together, okay?”
<
* * *
Weqq
MinSha Compound
The humans changed guards at midnight. Presumably, this was for better security, but given the smell of alcohol emanating from the new guard—the one the humans called Antoine—it was a chance for someone else to drink themselves into oblivion for a few hours while Antoine sobered up in the MinSha barracks. There were still guards outside the door, but Tirr knew the opening he’d waited for was only a matter of minutes away. He looked across the darkened room and saw one of his lieutenants, who tapped the climate control system and raised the ambient temperature setting seven degrees centigrade. Antoine wobbled in on shaky legs soon after and pushed a box against the bulkhead near the entry door. He sat atop the box heavily. He was chin-to-chest asleep in seconds. Tirr waited two minutes before rising from his hammock and moving down the dark, silent aisle. The entire colony was asleep save for his trusted guards, and that was as perfect as he could ask for the situation to be—there were secrets to keep.
Two of his guards joined him at the rear of the room near a half-meter square conduit protected by a heavy screen. Murrh, one of his lieutenants, turned to face him. The smaller one, a new guard fresh from training named Drech, crouched and worked a tool into the screen and slid it from the wall with ease. Behind the small screen, the actual conduit was large enough for a MinSha to crouch. They’d constructed the compound to take advantage of every possible asset.
Tirr leaned close to Murrh and whispered, “It’s time. Get outside and find the Peacemaker.”
“What if she’s dead?” Murrh asked. It was a valid question.
Tirr nodded. “Then we’ll proceed with our plans. We’ll have no more than a day before the humans will suspect something.”
Murrh grunted. “They’ve never counted us. We could empty a platoon into the jungle, and they wouldn’t know until it was too late for them.”
The young guard was right, but presumptive to a fault. “Maybe, but we’re bound to give the Peacemaker a chance. Human or not, she has authority over this situation. If she’s incapacitated or dead, we’ll execute our plan.”
“Could she be with the humans?”
Tirr glared at the young guard. “No. You saw her yourself, Murrh. You reported her loss over the wall and demanded to go after her. Why? Because she was a coward?”
“No, sir. She fought like one of us. I considered her a part of the defense.” Murrh sighed. “I still do, but there’s so much doubt when humans are involved.”
“You’re right, Murrh.” Tirr rested a front claw on the young guard’s shoulder. “But she’s a Peacemaker first and foremost. If she’s out there, we can save this situation and the TriRusk.”
Murrh nodded. “If the humans figure out how we left the compound, it could be dangerous for you.”
“That’s why I’m counting on you to hurry,” Tirr said. “Report back in a day—at this exact time. I hope to have information from the outside then.”
“Do you think she will talk?”
“I’m going to give her every opportunity. When she does, we’ll know if they’re feral or the TriRusk written about in our childhood epics. I’m counting on the latter.” Tirr said. There was much more he could tell the young guard, but it wasn’t necessary. His team knew the TriRusk were out there, and what the economic stake was to both their culture and to the Union, but they also knew the TriRusk were potential allies. In a situation where his MinSha were hostages, Tirr believed a common enemy could unite the MinSha and TriRusk, at least temporarily. He would let the diplomats sort out the impacts and resolutions in their own time. What mattered was the ability to use every resource at his disposal to win the field. “Now go. Fuul will play her part in less than an hour. Remember, one day.”
“Yes, Captain,” Murrh said. “Drech and I will be back at this time tomorrow. If Peacemaker Francis is out there, we’ll find her.”
Tirr nodded and shooed them into the conduit. They crept into the darkness toward an exterior vent forty meters away and roughly a meter below ground level. Where it emerged was a facade of tough, thorn-ridden brush they’d piled against the wall to make it look like an obstacle. His guards would be outside the compound in a matter of minutes. When day broke, Fuul would make her play, and he’d test their ability to talk to the TriRusk, once and for all. It was a gamble, but one Tirr knew had to take place, especially if the Peacemaker was nowhere to be found.
Tirr replaced the conduit flawlessly and crept back to his hammock. With a nod at his man by the climate control, the temperature in the room quickly returned to a normal setting while the human guard snored and snorted along the wall. Tirr crawled into his space and wrapped his arms across his chest, but rest could not quiet his guilty mind. There was no fault he could leverage against himself. Psymrr was a diplomat and didn’t have access to the military records archives. The TriRusk wasn’t feral and was almost certainly more than she let on even with her condition. She could produce diamonds in her stool for much longer than Psymrr or Fuul believed. If the humans had not come, she would have already been returned to her family had Tirr had his way. Unlike the officers of most military units, Tirr understood the need for subterfuge, especially from the diplomatic corps.
He lay in the darkness, listening to the civilians and soldiers now under his leadership, and hoped the human mercenaries would be gullible.
* * * * *
Chapter Twenty-One
Weqq
Outside the TriRusk Colony
The echoes of nearby gunfire stopped Kurrang and Jessica in the light trap. Distinctive chatter from machine pistols suggested older model CASPers, at least one but maybe two. The small thunderclaps of laser discharge echoed through the tunnel. Above the sounds of the cannons, she heard a high-pitched whirring sound. Curiosity getting the better of her, Jessica pushed off the slick, cool rock and stepped toward the entrance. Kurrang blocked her path with one large arm.
“What are you doing?”
“Taking a look.”
Kurrang snorted. “You won’t see anything. The Urrtam have attacked those human…suits, believing them to be a very large meal. They’ll fall back soon enough, unless they can penetrate the armor.”
Jessica strained to look. On the very edge of the tunnel, she saw brief flashes of light that coincided with the reports of cannon fire on a three or four second delay. The CASPers were a good kilometer away and far around the curvature of the hill from her position. Kurrang was correct. There was nothing she could see, so she closed her eyes and listened.
The whirring sound reached a crescendo for a brief second before there was a loud explosion. As it echoed thr
ough the valley, Jessica tried and failed to identify it. From the sound, it wasn’t a cannon or mine from a CASPer, nor was it anything like mortars or light artillery. Another explosion crashed through the jungle, sounding closer and much clearer. Behind her eyelids, Jessica saw a similar explosion in her mind. A bright young CASPer pilot with a fine career in front of her had died in an accidental detonation of her railgun. Kei Howl and her friends should have been out in the galaxy kicking ass and taking names instead of having their atoms spread to the winds and rocks of Araf.
Jessica winced from the mental sting of losing the young men and women that had proudly named themselves Force 25 and come to her assistance. Hex Alison, the young boy who’d grown up chasing her with a crush that bordered on legendary, had died there, as well. Her career as a Peacemaker had been achieved through the sacrifices of others.
At the same time, there was a sense of direction and purpose. She’d always been driven, almost precariously so in the eyes of Marc Lemieux and a few others, but this feeling was different. There was no way she could give up on being a Peacemaker and look herself in the mirror. Serving honorably wasn’t a type of penance. Yet, it was something more than honoring those who’d died helping her. Quitting wasn’t an option.
Look out for other humans, Bulldog.
She took a deep breath and sighed, pressing her eyes tightly closed. Her father’s words were strong, by design. James Francis knew more than most people about the inner workings and hidden mechanisms of the Union. The rumors and scuttlebutt from human mercenary companies all pointed to shady dealings and future conflicts. War, they said, was coming. He wanted her to look out for her fellow humans, but her job as a Peacemaker superseded species. Raleigh Reilly and his benefactors were in the wrong. That Reilly and his company were humans didn’t matter. In the eyes of the law, they were in the wrong, and it was her duty to stop them.
“Are you okay, Jessica?”
She opened her eyes and met Kurrang’s curious stare. He’d walked away from his species to save his daughter. Like her, he knew the risks and knew some things required a being to do much more than they believed possible. They were two against a mercenary company with far more armament and capabilities. Kurrang knew the terrain, and Jessica knew the typical human mercenary playbook like the back of her hand.
We can do this.
“I’m fine, Kurrang.” She nodded at him. “I promise. Just putting things in order.”
Kurrang turned and stepped to the tunnel entrance. As he pushed through, she caught sight of a shimmering light around him. She pulled in a surprised breath. She’d seen a luxon field only once before in the elSha meteoroid colonies above Kayo-Two. A minimally-powerful field withheld atmosphere and could be made opaque or distorted to appear as something entirely different. Human sensors were unable to spot it. The TriRusk colony was likely invisible to anyone and everyone. The predators around them would likely never challenge the field’s integrity. It was a perfect position to hide from the rest of the galaxy, except the galaxy might now come for them.
“Kurrang?”
He looked over his shoulder but did not respond. In his eyes, she could sense the answer to her question before she spoke.
“Your people are spread all over the galaxy, aren’t they? This is not the only colony, just one of many, and you’ve been watching us—all of us—for centuries.”
“You are correct in your assessment, Jessica.” He shrugged one shoulder. “We’ve been waiting to see who would challenge those meaning to subvert the very Union they helped to create. The Union they fill with new species, and from which they steal resources and conquer worlds in the name of progress. Those willing to stand against their enemies despite their affable policies and intentions. Nurr does not believe any species will ever be able to contend against the Veetanho, the MinSha, and the others who deceive and undercut everyone else for profit and power. Make no mistake, Jessica. Nurr doesn’t believe a human, Peacemaker or not, would go back to the compound and assist the MinSha. You must know yours is not the most trustworthy of species.”
“I know that, Kurrang. That’s not my job as a Peacemaker, though. The MinSha are on the wrong end of a bad contract, and I’m prepared to assist them in any way possible, but it appears the time for negotiation is over.”
Kurrang chuffed with laughter. “You are trouble, Jessica Francis. Standing up to your species isn’t the easiest thing to do.”
Jessica nodded. It all made sense. Kurrang’s decision wasn’t purely for his daughter. He hoped to send a message to Nurr and the rest of the colony. The time had come for them, collectively, to take back their role. The other colonies would have no choice but to follow suit once their cover was blown. The TriRusk could be a great ally for the Union civilizations to stand against the Mercenary Guild or anyone else that wanted to destroy them. If a war was coming, the Peacemakers would need every race they could befriend to succeed.
“Then we’ll do it together, Kurrang,” Jessica said.
Outside, the jungle was quiet again. The attack was over, and the CASPers were either in a tactical pause, or they’d left for home. She listened for another moment and decided it was the latter. Kurrang shifted to a sitting position outside the tunnel entrance. Jessica stepped closer to the luxon field and lowered herself to the ground.
“We should wait,” Kurrang said. “Give those mercenaries a chance to get further away.”
“How long?”
Kurrang chuckled. “A few more minutes. When we leave, we’ll be going in a different direction, by a different method, anyway.”
Twenty minutes later, Kurrang looked over his shoulder and said. “Can humans climb trees?”
Jessica immediately understood the plan but squinted at him. “Won’t that make us more vulnerable to the Urrtam?”
“They don’t like the TriRusk. We taste bad.” Kurrang turned to her. “Don’t worry. I have something for you that will help. We use them to protect the things we don’t want the Urrtam to eat.”
The solution turned out to be a poncho of synthetic TriRusk hide. In the humidity, the thing smelled worse than a wet dog, but it was better than most of the Peacemaker U survival training she’d been forced to endure. She tugged it over her blue-black coveralls and secured it with a long strip of vine. Kurrang reached over her shoulder and flipped up a headpiece that covered her hair like an ill-fitting hood. The ragged ends of the poncho fell just below her knees, and while she had no doubt it would confuse and deter any predators, she was amazed at how light and flexible the hide felt.
“How do I look?”
Kurrang frowned. “Human appearance escapes me. You look like a skinny, malnourished, silly TriRusk. It will be fine.”
Gooseflesh rippled over Jessica as she pushed through the luxon field, into the jungle night. Without the stars or a light, it was nearly impossible to see. Relying on her eyes would slow them down. Kurrang moved easily through the jungle, while she hesitated with every step. He kept looking over his shoulder as they climbed the gentle escarpment to the larger trees, but he said nothing. Jessica realized he didn’t have to say anything at all.
Maybe next time I go home I should get the ocular implants for night vision? That type of body adjustment was frowned upon by the Peacemaker Guild, however. They didn’t even officially approve of pinplants. A successful Peacemaker always had the gear necessary to perform the mission. Jessica froze and bent down to her lower leg pockets. Her Peacemaker jumpsuit was more like a pilot’s flight suit, with a bevy of pockets for all kinds of storage. She’d placed her eye protection glasses in her lower leg pocket above her left ankle. She patted the pocket and found they were still there. Unfolding the earpieces, she slipped them on and touched the junction of the right earpiece and the frames. The operating system came to life, but the initialization stalled once the visual system engaged. Without her slate, the data connection failed to establish, but as the earpieces converted her body heat to low power, the embedded light collection and amplific
ation cells produced a faint, bright green image of the terrain roughly ten meters in any direction she looked.
You’re such an idiot, Jess. At least you remembered the glasses were there.
Now, get your shit together.
Moving was easier, even though her depth perception was nearly nonexistent with the amplified imaging. Still, she could at least see the ground and the trees surrounding them. The quiet jungle would have closed in around her in the dark all too soon. Kurrang reached the top of the ridge and stood looking up the length of a tall trunk. Jessica looked up but couldn’t see far enough to determine what held his attention.
“What are you staring at?”
Kurrang jutted his lower jaw out as if pointing without using his hands. “Up there. These are interconnecting and could be walked across if your equipment was better suited for this environment. My idea was to move from tree to tree, but it won’t work. The trees are too far apart. We’ll be better served to walk until we reach denser forest.”
Jessica frowned but did not apologize. “Let’s get going then. Moving in the dark will give us some advantage.”
“How so?”
She shrugged. “Raleigh’s not going to send out a bunch of patrols at night. There’s not too much risk this far away. As we get closer, we’ll see more CASPers. Out here, though, we should be able to move quickly. Well, as quickly as I can go.”
Kurrang grunted, and they descended the ragged hill to the edge of the river. Jessica followed about three meters behind the TriRusk to give him enough space to move unimpeded. The brush reached up and grabbed at her coveralls, but the poncho hide didn’t catch on any of the plants as they moved.
Occasionally, Kurrang would stop for a second or two and look around. The simple ritual brought back memories from her ground warfare training of the listening halt. In a new area, they’d recommended if the situation dictated, and the area was safe enough to do so, they halt and remove any headgear and listen to the environment. Getting a feel for the normal sounds, they said, would help a patrol determine if anything had changed in the immediate environment. She’d never performed a listening halt in her years as a mercenary, but when Kurrang stopped, she flipped back the hood and closed her eyes.
Honor the Threat Page 23