Sedge’s hand stilled on her back. “You want me to leave the company?”
“You don’t have to answer now,” Kalish rushed to say, not wanting to hear it if the answer would be no. “I just wanted to let you know that if that’s something you’ve ever thought of... I’d have a place for you.” She thought about giving a saucy wink and adding, “And your spear,” but that had been cheesy the first time. She refrained, instead resting her chin on his chest and watching his face, trying to gauge whether he was at all intrigued. She shouldn’t push, but a thought came to her, and she couldn’t help but add, “I could get one of those fancy incinerating air purifiers for the ship.”
“Oh, well now I am interested.”
She chuckled softly and was about to lay her cheek against his shoulder and think of sleep, but she caught him looking at her, the corners of his mouth turned upward.
“Really?” she asked.
“Really.”
* * *
Sedge stood against the wall in the Albatross’s briefing room with Kalish at his side, her hand wrapped in his. He kept telling himself that he should let her go, but he had not been able to manage it, neither at their late breakfast that morning, nor now, at this private meeting to which they had been summoned. The captain stood at the head of the large wooden table in the center of the room, the only warm and inviting furnishing on the ship. His arms were folded over his chest, while his most intimidating glare rode his face. Even though the glare was not directed at him, Sedge couldn’t help but worry about the moment when he explained that he would like to leave the company. He would get more than a glare then.
The earnest young soldier floating in a holodisplay above the table kept licking his lips nervously, uncomfortable under the captain’s stare.
“Yes, sir. I’ll tell him,” the soldier said, clearly relieved to end his part of the conversation.
“Blackwell,” Mandrake said, after the man disappeared from the comm pickup. She and Sedge were the only other ones who had been called to this meeting. “You willing to trade one of those engines? I need a bargaining chip.”
Kalish nodded. “I was expecting to have to give at least one up regardless. But I have to warn you that I already tried bargaining with Commodore Parsons.”
“While he had you surrounded and at his mercy?”
“Technically... yes.”
“We’re in a better position now. I know the man. He has a passion for Old Earth. He has models of ancient sailing ships in his cabin, along with maps and star system charts from the area. He has to be intrigued by—”
The holodisplay stirred as someone new stepped into view. Commodore Parsons.
Kalish’s grip tightened on Sedge’s hand. They were off to the side, so the man should not see them, but he gave her a reassuring squeeze.
“Captain Mandrake,” Parsons said. His mouth twisted. “That’s always hard to stomach. When soldiers leave the Fleet and promote themselves to officer status.”
“The civilian designation for the owner of a spaceship is captain,” Mandrake said dryly.
Sedge fought the urge to jump in and proclaim further reasons that Mandrake deserved the rank; it wasn’t as if forming and successfully running a mercenary company was easier than becoming a Fleet officer and working one’s way up the chain. In the Fleet, one did not have to watch one’s back, worried that someone would stick a dagger in it in an attempt to promote oneself.
“I suppose. What’s your offer, Mandrake?”
“First off, you may wish to know that Dirk Cometrunner and the Epiphany’s Revenge have been destroyed. One less pirate harassing the shipping lanes.”
“If you want a medal, you won’t get one from me,” Parsons said. “Your people were down there with the treasure hunter, shooting up a civilian mining compound.”
“I am merely informing you of this fact.” Mandrake’s eyelids drooped low. “And pointing out how difficult it can be for ships wandering into the nebula.”
The commodore’s eyebrows drew down. He didn’t miss the threat.
“You have better things to do than poking around in here,” Mandrake went on. “Brush fires to be put out on the inner core planets, I’m certain. But it would be a shame for you to return empty-handed. I’ve spoken to the treasure hunter, as you call her, and she’s willing to trade a fully intact and possibly operable engine designed to go into one of those alien ships, a real one rather than the facsimiles that so distressed your troops earlier.” Mandrake’s edged smile had a lupine quality to it.
“Should he be prodding the bull?” Kalish murmured.
“Most Fleet officers respect audacity more than simpering,” Sedge whispered, though he did not know if he would be quite so audacious if he were speaking to the commodore.
The commodore did not answer for a moment—from the way he glanced back and made a few shooing motions, he was gathering some privacy for himself. “You would trade this piece for what?”
“The only official report that could explain how you came to have it, without making deals with criminals,” Mandrake said. “You pursued the Divining Rod, obliterated it, and retrieved the relic for yourself. The ship’s crew would be presumed dead. Mandrake Company might have been spotted in the area, dealing with a pirate, but you’re not aware of anything else occurring.”
Sedge watched Kalish’s face. If the commodore agreed, would this suit her? It was not the same as a pardon, but the military did not have the power to grant that, not to a civilian. At least this way, nobody would be looking for her. And perhaps, in the confusion, those dead miners would be reported as casualties of a dangerous job rather than as murders.
“A lot of my fighters were destroyed by the shuttles of a mercenary company that was simply spotted in the area,” Parsons growled.
“The caverns are dangerous,” Mandrake said.
Parsons growled again.
Mandrake tapped the display on his tablet. “I’m transmitting the specifications and a video of the engine, so you can take a closer look.”
“Such things can be faked.”
“Perhaps, but can you explain the appearance of those ships in the sky? It should be clear that we’ve acquired some of the alien technology.”
“Give me ten minutes.” Parsons snapped off the comm without waiting for a response.
“He’s tempted, sir,” Sedge said, though he probably didn’t need to. The captain might not be the most emotive person himself, but he never seemed to have trouble reading the faces of others.
“Yes. The thing that will grate most at him is having to imply that his pilots might have died due to incompetence rather than in the heat of battle. Thatcher and Calendula were too efficient down there.”
“Send some footage of the winged monsters we fought,” Kalish said. “Or the robots defending the alien structure. I’m not sure your people were directly responsible for any of the pilots’ deaths.”
Sedge was less certain about that—he remembered Striker launching grenades at the fighters—but he kept his mouth shut. He did not know if Mandrake thought much of the suggestion, but he did tap his comm and tell Thatcher to send over the flight recordings.
“Are you all right with making your ship disappear?” Sedge asked Kalish quietly, rubbing the back of her hand with his thumb. “You might have to sell it, file off the serial numbers, find something new.”
“You mean we will, don’t you?” She smiled up at him, not appearing daunted at all about the idea of going shopping for a new ship.
“Er.” Sedge glanced at Mandrake. “I still have to bring that up with the captain.”
The captain who had finished working on his tablet and was watching them. “You going somewhere, Thomlin?”
“I. Uh.” Trying not to feel like a duck in the hunter’s sights, Sedge looked at Kalish, as if the answer might be beamed to him through her eyes. She merely raised her brows, waiting to see what he would say.
Sedge had been overqualified for the intelligence posi
tion when he had joined, so he had only been asked to sign a short contract, not like some of the mercenaries who needed extra training before they were fit to fly with Mandrake Company. But he had a contract nonetheless, and he was the only intelligence officer in the outfit. He could not simply drop his resignation on the captain’s desk. Nor would he want to go AWOL. As much as he wanted nothing more than to follow Kalish anywhere at the moment, especially back to his cabin, he did not want to ruin his chances of ever being permitted to return. What if treasure hunting did not suit him long term? And what about his spot on the waiting list for those alien gut-bug transfers?
“Captain,” Kalish spoke into the silence, meeting Mandrake’s eyes without flinching—that was more than Sedge could manage at the moment. “I found Sedgwick extremely useful on this mission, and should we succeed in escaping the Fleet’s wrath, I would like to hire him to help me with several more missions. The fabled Taibei Wreck. The Treasure of Libra’s Sunken Caves. The Lost City of New Chelyabinsk. I believe he would be extremely useful to my operation. If he has signed a contract here, I am willing to negotiate a reasonable amount to buy him out, or to have it placed in hiatus until such time that we have found enough treasure to retire comfortably. At that point, he may wish to return to your company. I understand the air on this ship is fairly hygienic.”
The captain didn’t bat an eye at this spiel. Sedge squeezed Kalish’s hand again, pleased that she had guessed so many of his thoughts—especially that he may wish to return at some point—but he did not know how Mandrake would react, so he held his breath.
“She calls you Sedgwick?” Mandrake looked at Sedge, rare humor in his eyes.
“I, er. No. I mean...” Hoping he read the captain’s mood correctly, Sedge lifted his chin and said, “It’s not any worse than your first name, sir. Your real one.” As far as he knew, he was one of only a handful of people on the ship who knew that Captain Viktor Mandrake had been born Willow Mandrake on the plant-loving world of Grenavine. It wasn’t in his records. Unless one snooped. Which intelligence officers did.
“Hm.” Mandrake met Kalish’s eyes. “I don’t pay him much. Buying out his contract wouldn’t be that big of a boon to the company, especially when I would be losing my only intelligence officer.”
“I see, I see.” Kalish lifted her free hand to her chin and stroked it thoughtfully. The gleam in her eyes did not quite go with the serious mien. “You wish to negotiate for his release, then.”
“You can have him for a twenty percent cut of the money you receive from the sale of any treasures you find in the next...” Mandrake pulled something up on his tablet. “Two years. That is the time that remains on his contract. If you find treasures and choose not to sell them immediately, Mandrake Company will still receive a payment based on the value of the items. This starts with the remaining engine in your cargo hold.”
“Twenty percent?” Kalish had been sputtering since he said the number, and Sedge was not certain she had heard the rest. “That’s outrageous. Especially since you’ve already admitted you pay him a pittance of what he’s worth.”
“Yes, but I’ll have to pay more to lure another intelligence officer out of the Fleet to join us.”
Sedge propped his fist on his hip, not certain how he felt about this conversation. “Maybe I should be offering to stay and bargaining for a raise,” he muttered.
“No, you shouldn’t.” Kalish prodded him in the ribs. “Captain, I will consider giving your company a five percent share of after-expenses earnings for the next two years. More than that is ridiculous. I have a pilot I have to pay and apparently I’m going to need a new ship as well after this.”
“A ship you can pay for with the sale of your old one,” Mandrake said. “Ten percent.”
“Seven.”
“Eight.”
Kalish fumed up at him. What she may have started almost as a joke had become a very real negotiation, and she did not look happy about what she was being asked to give up. Sedge wondered if he should try to talk to Mandrake himself, get the captain to come down by offering to help train a replacement. The last thing he wanted was for Kalish to feel bitter later on, because she was wiring huge sums of money to mercenaries on the other side of the system.
Before he could make the offer, Mandrake countered again.
“Seven point five.” He stuck his hand out. “You should be pleased I’m not asking for a percentage in perpetuity.”
Kalish squinted at him, walked across the room, and grasped the captain’s hand. “Done.”
Sedge stared at the handshake, elation gradually replacing the stunned feeling that first dawned on him. Kalish turned and headed back to him, a triumphant smile stamped on her face.
He started to reach for her, but the tablet beeped, announcing the return of Commodore Parsons. “Mandrake,” the man growled, not noticeably happier than he had been ten minutes earlier, “I agree to your proposition with one stipulation. I want whatever made those ships appear in the sky as well. That was a hell of a lot more impressive than anything our holo-technology can do.”
Mandrake looked to Kalish.
She sighed. “I would have preferred to keep that, but if it’s the price of my family’s freedom, so be it.”
“We agree to your terms,” Mandrake said. “I’ll have someone contact one of your bridge officers to make arrangements for the hand-offs.”
“I trust our hand-off won’t go the same way as your hand-off with the pirate went,” Parsons said coolly. Some intelligence officer on his ship must be on the ball to have gotten that story so quickly.
“I trust that won’t be necessary. Mandrake, out.” He cut the comm without waiting for any parting words from the commodore and strode around the table and toward the door. But he stopped in front of Sedge. “Before you run off with your treasure hunter, I want that device reverse engineered with a complete copy of the schematics in my hand. Get Thatcher to help you.”
That sounded like a daunting task—he had barely figured out how to turn it on—but he nodded firmly anyway. “Yes, sir.”
With nothing but air beneath his feet, he would have agreed to anything. He could do whatever the captain needed, now that he and Kalish could stay together.
As soon as the door slid shut, he spread his arms, intending to hug her. But she pushed him against the wall and locked her lips against his first. The fiery kiss stole his breath and thrust everything but bedroom fantasies from his mind.
“I would have paid twenty for you,” she growled when they broke for air. She ran her hands under his shirt and up his torso.
He slid his own hands around her, squeezing her butt and pulling her against him. “I hope I’m worth it.”
“You are,” she said, coming in for another kiss. “But if you want to prove it to me again tonight,” she added, her lips against his, “I’m amenable to that.”
“Why wait until night?” Sedge swept her up and carried her to the sturdy wooden table.
THE END
Mercenary Courage
Foreword
All except one of the novels in this bundle are new romances with new characters. Mercenary Courage is the exception. The fifth book in the Mandrake Company series is a sequel to the first (Mercenary Instinct) and takes us back to the heroes who started everything: Ankari and Viktor.
I hope you won’t mind another adventure with them. After this, the stories go back to new couples. Thanks for reading on!
1
Ankari held up the long dagger, eyeing the gleaming steel and testing the heft of the hilt. It was made from antler, whether fake or real, she could not tell. Etchings of alien runes—or what passed for someone’s interpretation of them—ran along the blade.
Shaking her head, she placed the dagger back on the black velvet tray the sales robot in front of her held. “Too frivolous. Do you have anything that looks amazing but is still functional and practical?”
“I assure you, all of our blades are amazing, ma’am,” the r
obot said, its mechanical voice managing to sound impressively haughty. “I will bring you more to peruse.”
The robot rolled away, its metal body spattered with holo-stickers that promised great discounts and affordable elegance. One sticker, which advertised beer by the bucket and half-priced tokens, might have been slipped in on the sly, by a casino manager from the floor above.
A long-suffering sigh came from behind Ankari.
“Can’t you just pick one?” Even as she spoke, Lauren Keys, microbiologist and Ankari’s business partner, kept her focus on the tablet in her hand, swiping her finger through columns of data floating in the holodisplay above it.
“I want something that suits him,” Ankari said.
“He kills people with laser rifles. What’s he going to do with a knife?”
Ankari thought about pointing out that Viktor had killed people with everything from daggers to throwing stars to carnivorous plants to his bare hands, but that was perhaps not an appropriate discussion for the bustling upscale shop. Two kids munching on caramel apples were standing nearby, prodding at the display cases with sticky fingers, leaving smudges on the pliable force screens. A few feet away, someone else’s bored child was climbing a vine wrapped around a pillar in an attempt to reach the glowing leaves that stretched across the ceiling, providing lighting for the shop.
“He likes knives,” Ankari said, but not with a great deal of conviction. In truth, she still sought inspiration for Viktor’s birthday present. To say he had Spartan tastes was an understatement. His cabin hadn’t even had a sofa or chairs before Ankari came into his life. “Unless you have a better idea?”
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