by M. D. Cooper
Rika cocked an eyebrow. “Basileus Stavros,” she answered, using his official title. “I did not expect such a welcome here at Serspa. We were only intending to stop for fuel and food before proceeding to the rendezvous.”
Stavros nodded, his smile fading. “I assume you learned from Amy that I am her father. Then why not turn her over to my authorities here?”
Rika reached the bottom of the ramp and crossed her left arm over her torso, clasping the barrel of her GNR with her left hand. “I don’t know the circumstances behind Amy’s abduction, and she had little information to offer on that front. There was a possibility that it was an inside job, so we determined that the best course of action was to follow protocol.”
“And now that I am here?” Stavros pressed.
Rika bit her lip. The last thing she wanted was to turn the girl over to this man. Just seeing him made her certain that he was not the best parent for Amy. But her choices were limited, and he was Amy’s father; she had little cause to keep Amy from her family. Despite her prior conversation with Leslie, all they had were suspicions and a distaste for the man.
“I see no reason not to hand a girl over to her father,” Rika relented through gritted teeth.
Stavros gave a curt nod and a predatory smile graced his lips. “You showed courage out on the battlefield. I followed your progress with great interest.”
“You did?” Rika was perplexed.
“Of course,” Stavros replied. “Do you think I would send mercenaries to rescue my daughter without ensuring I had eyes on the situation? Once you had her, I ordered my team to take Amy from you, but my forces failed to succeed.”
As he spoke, Stavros lowered his eyes and shook his head. Then he raised his hand, and a figure rose from behind the ranks of soldiers.
Silva.
All of Rika’s fears came true. Silva is being held under Stavros’s thumb with a compliance chip. The man is a monster, but I have no choice but to surrender Amy to him.
When Silva reached his side, Stavros placed a hand on her shoulder. “Meat here failed to take Amy from you, lost to you, and your team, too. It was a thrilling contest to witness. You’re quite the operator, Rika. You’re wasted with the Marauders.”
“We’re not ‘meat’,” Rika sneered. He put his daughter in danger just to see two mechs fight?! She couldn’t even put words into how that made her feel.
“No?” Stavros considered. “Maybe you’re not. You’re an amazing creature: a thing of beauty, speed, and cunning. You look good with a face, too. Meat here has no face. She hasn’t earned it yet.”
Rika could see Silva tense at the repeated insults, but her former friend didn’t move, she just stood there and bore the abuse.
A rage-filled scream threatened to tear free from Rika’s throat. How ‘bout I rip his face off and see how he likes it? Instead, she took a deep breath. Lives depend on me keeping my shit together.
“And me?” she asked after calming herself enough to trust her voice. “Would you say I’ve ‘earned’ my face back?”
Stavros shrugged. “You have it, don’t you? Meat here doesn’t. I would say that those who possess something deserve it through the might or cunning they exhibited in securing it. It is simple.”
“Sounds Nietzschean,” Rika replied, schooling her tone and expression to hide her disgust.
Stavros nodded. “Nietzsche only borrowed what the Greeks always knew: ‘To the victor go the spoils.’”
“Is Amy happy?” Rika asked suddenly, not sure where the words had come from. “With you, at home or wherever you live?”
Stavros snorted. “Of course she is. Why wouldn’t she be?”
Rika shrugged. “I’m just curious. We’ve spent a few days with her; I just want to know that she’ll be well.”
Stavros waved a hand at Silva for her to step back. “Amy lives like a queen. Trust me, she’ll be well taken care of. She is my daughter, after all.”
“That’s good. Maybe I’ll send her a message from time to time,” Rika ventured.
“You could do better than that,” Stavros proposed. “Like I said, you’re wasted on the Marauders; you should join The Politica. We’re the future of Praesepe. Only we can hold out against the Nietzscheans.”
Does Stavros really believe that? He is the cancer, not the cure. What Praesepe needs is his excision—not salvation at his hands.
Rika looked to Silva, standing just behind Stavros. She appeared strong and powerful, but Rika remembered what the real Silva had looked like on the battlefield, when she’d led Hammerfall to victory after victory.
This woman was nothing more than a shell—a hollowed out remnant of that person Rika knew. It would have been better if I never knew it was Silva inside that armor.
“I wouldn’t join you for all the stars in Praesepe,” Rika promised. “We’re going to turn Amy over to you only because we must, and then we’re leaving.”
Rika raised her hand and waved it forward, signaling Leslie to bring Amy down the ramp.
When the girl reached her side, Rika knelt and embraced her. “I’m going to miss you, Amy. You be good, and take care of my friend, the other mech, OK?”
Amy met Rika’s eyes. “Why won’t you take father’s offer? You could stay with me, then. You could be with another mech like you.”
Rika shook her head. “My family is the Marauders. With them is where I belong. I’ll send you messages, though; we all will.”
“Yes,” Leslie added. “Frequently.”
Rika rose and gave Amy’s shoulder a gentle push. “Go on now, this—”
“Amy,” Stavros interrupted. “Come. Now. Give your father a hug, then Phillis will take you to a room where you can be refreshed.”
A woman stepped forward from the ranks behind Stavros and held out her hand. Amy directed a final longing look at Rika and Leslie before she walked toward her father, gave him a perfunctory hug, and then took Phillis’s hand.
Rika replied resignedly.
Rika said the words for herself as much as for Leslie. The scout didn’t reply, and Rika could feel her fuming.
Stavros watched his daughter leave the bay, the expression on his face not happy, but satisfied. When Amy was gone, he turned back to Rika.
“Now, what is your price? You will join The Politica—it is the best place for you. I will put your skills to use.”
Rika shook her head. “I have no price. I am a Marauder.”
Stavros’s lips twisted into a sneer. “You’re a mercenary, you kill for pay. Regardless, you know I could kill you all. Destroy your ship, cut your legs from under you. You cannot deny me.”
“Do you want the Marauders as enemies?” Rika asked in a measured tone. “The moment we left Kestry, we suspected that our departure was too easy. We sent a tightbeam to a comm probe at the edge of the system; we sent another when your destroyers began to shadow us. If we don’t return soon, you’ll have General Mill on your doorstep. No one double-crosses the Marauders. We may not have The Politica’s numbers, but we defeated the Nietzscheans at Pyra. Are you ready to find out how much we can hurt you?”
As she spoke, Stavros’s face had reddened until she wondered if the man would order their deaths anyway. Then, as abruptly as his anger had risen, it dissipated.
“You’ve some cunning to you, Rika. We did detect those transmissions; I was only testing your loyalty. There is no place in The Politica for traitors.” He cast a glance over his shoulder at Silva before continuing. “Go, Rika. Return to your Marauders. Tell your General Mill that The Politica honors its agreements.”
“I shall,” Rika replied simply, and turned to walk back up the ramp when Stavros’s voice stopped her.
“Rika. Should you ever want to know w
hat power truly means…Come to me. I will show it to you.”
Rika resisted the urge to give a shiver of revulsion as she continued up the ramp, feeling the barrels of a hundred weapons on her back.
Once inside the ship, with a fuming Leslie at her side, she hit the control to close the entrance, and called up to the cockpit over the Link.
HOME
STELLAR DATE: 03.11.8949 (Adjusted Years)
LOCATION: MSS Romany, in orbit of Chyso
REGION: Scarborough System, Theban Alliance, Praesepe Cluster
Rika walked down the passageway toward Captain Ayer’s small office on Deck 34 of the MSS Romany. It was good to finally be back on the ship; it would be better tonight, when she could finally relax with Chase.
Not that they’d been unable to relax during the three-week trip back to the Romany’s current location in the Scarborough System. It just wasn’t the same on the pinnace, where the team had to sleep in shifts on the two small bunks.
Tempers had been short, and everyone had been glad to finally leave the cramped ship, and the memories it held, behind.
Rika just wanted to have a good, long cry. A very, very long cry. Preferably in Chase’s arms. Not only was Silva lost to a monster like Stavros, but Rika had turned a ten-year-old girl over to him, as well. Just the thought of it made her sick.
She reached the unassuming door and knocked sharply.
“Captain,” Rika greeted her and saluted once she’d crossed the threshold.
Ayer walked around her desk and stood before Rika, returned the salute, and then extended her right hand to shake Rika’s—a ‘regular’ hand now in place, rather than the gun-arm that had been there for the past four weeks.
“At ease, Lieutenant. And congratulations,” Ayer granted. “You acquitted yourself well out there, especially given the circumstances.”
Rika relaxed marginally. “Which circumstances? That we were hired by a sonuvabitch, that we lost our ship, that I met the shell of my former CO, or that we turned a wonderful little girl over to the aforementioned sonuvabitch?”
Captain Ayer gave a rueful laugh. “You’re supposed to ask for ‘permission to speak freely’ before you go off like that, Rika.”
Rika opened her mouth to comply, but Ayer held up her hand.
“No need, Rika—it’s granted. I feel personally responsible for putting you through that. We vet our clients and thought we knew who we were working for—but Stavros pulled the wool over our eyes.”
“Ma’am?” Rika asked. “How did he do that?”
“Not sure. We’re still unraveling that. When we figure it out, we’ll certainly update our protocols. I read your report while you were on approach; I’m really sorry about what happened to Silva. First the war, now this…”
“She could fight it,” Rika posited. “I did.”
Ayer cast an appraising eye on Rika. “Yes, yes you did. But not everyone has your strength. Maybe…maybe after the war, when there was no one left for Silva to be strong for, she couldn’t muster it for herself. People are complex; don’t hold it against her.”
Rika considered Ayer’s words. Perhaps I have judged Silva too harshly. Some amount of her reaction was due to the shock of finding Silva in that situation—enslaved to the likes of Stavros.
“You’re right,” she admitted after a moment. “I should give Silva more credit. She’s earned it.”
Ayer nodded. “I’m glad you can see it that way, because we have another mission for you.”
“‘We’?” Rika parroted, seeing Ayer’s gaze dart over her shoulder. She looked back to see General Mill standing in the still-open doorway.
Rika stood at attention and snapped off a salute. “General, Sir!”
Rika had heard that the Foe Hammer was in the Scarborough system, but she didn’t know that the general was on the Romany.
The general returned her salute without hesitation before stepping into the room. “Glad to have you back with us, Rika. I swear if we could have found a way to give our leaders half the courage you have, we’d all be sleeping in the Nietzschean emperor’s palace right now. You’re a credit to the Marauders, to mechs, and to your people.”
“Thank you, sir,” Rika replied.
“I take it I’ve arrived before you shared the details?” General Mill asked.
Captain Ayer nodded. “You have, sir.”
“Good. Let’s sit down. These are weighty matters we must discuss.”
The general took one of the chairs in front of Captain Ayer’s desk, and Ayer took her customary seat. Rika sat next to the general, feeling somewhat uncomfortable with the arrangement.
“I’ll get to the heart of it,” General Mill started. “I hate the fact that we did work for that pile of donkey excrement named Stavros. The only silver lining is that we saved a young girl in the process—though I’m not convinced we did that, either.”
“Sir?” Rika asked, not sure she understood correctly.
“It was in your own report. You must have thought about it, too. Amy told you that Stavros had sent Silva to the Pyra system to look for someone; I’ll bet that someone was you.”
“Me?” Rika asked. “I thought he was just looking to gain some sort of leverage after the Nietzschean defeat there.”
“He’s been gathering Genevian mechs—scientists, too. It’s possible that he’s trying to recreate the mech program in The Politica,” Ayer revealed. “We’ve received some intel from the Septhians that supports this.”
Rika didn’t know how to respond. The thought of Silva being caught up in something like the Genevian mech program again was enough to break her heart; that those horrors were going to be unleashed on another people was even worse.
“We plan to stop him,” General Mill assured her. “Even better, the Septhians are going to pay us to do the job.”
“Sir?” Rika asked again, starting to feel silly repeating herself.
“The general is a bit excited,” Captain Ayer said with a smile. “We’ve been hired to assassinate Stavros.”
Rika clenched her jaw. If someone is going in to kill that man, it had better be me. “You know I want it.”
General Mill nodded. “I’d be shocked if you didn’t. I could read between the lines in your report. But you can’t just show up on Stavros’s doorstep asking for a job. You need a plausible story, and I don’t think there’s one that would hold water.”
Rika nodded. A few possible ones floated through her mind, but none seemed credible enough. Then she hit upon it.
“Shit. You need to fire me! Um, sir.”
General Mill raised an eyebrow, his grey eyes locked on Rika’s. “Why’s that?”
“I shut Stavros down. Hard. Shamed him in front of his people. We concoct a reason for you to fire me, and I go to him, hat in hand, begging for a job.”
Captain Ayer shook her head. “No, Rika, you don’t want that. Stavros will know it’s a setup. Especially if you made your dislike of him clear. There are a dozen other outfits that would take you in a heartbeat. If we fire you, it would have to be for something serious, and we’d have to spread it around. Your name would be mud.”
Rika considered this for a moment. “Like how serious?”
General Mill stroked his chin. “It couldn’t be murder. We’d hold you for that—not fire you. Embezzlement wouldn’t work, either; most of the other merc companies would still take you in if you embezzled from us. Stars, they might applaud you.”
The general ran a hand through his hair and sat back in his seat. “I think we need to find another operative. I’m sorry, Rika. Basilisk will be onhand as backup, but you can’t take point. We’ll need someone who can get in close to Stavros without raising suspicions.”
Rika drew a deep breath and nodded in agreement. “Very well, sir.”
General Mill and Captain Ayer reviewed the details o
f the mission with her, putting together a plan to take out Stavros. Rika was honored that they would discuss this with her. It was especially useful because she was going to use their plan and intel to pull off the operation herself.
The chance to kill Stavros and free both Amy and Silva was too much. It was a job tailor-made for her.
Regardless of what her superiors may think.
MURDERER
STELLAR DATE: 03.11.8949 (Adjusted Years)
LOCATION: MSS Romany, in orbit of Chyso
REGION: Scarborough System, Theban Alliance, Praesepe Cluster
Rika sat back, bracing herself for Chase’s reaction. He worked his mouth, trying to figure out what to say. His eyes were troubled and wild. The words finally burst out of him in a rushed stream.
“Rika! No! You can’t do something like this! I—I don’t know what to say. Can I forbid you? I want to forbid you. I forbid you.”
“Nice try,” Rika replied dryly. Then her tone softened. “You know I have to do this. You know why.”
Chase nodded slowly. “I was there, too…well, not down on the ramp, but I know the score. Stavros has Silva; probably beats his daughter; now he wants to restart the Genevian mech program and use it on his people. Dude’s bad news and has to be stopped. I know. But you’ve done your bit. Mill’s right; putting you with Stavros would require accusing you of something so bad it would ruin your reputation forever.”
Rika placed a hand on Chase’s arm, a wan smile on her lips. “I really like the fact that you think I have a good reputation, though I don’t know with who. But my reputation with myself is what matters the most. I have to do this. I have to save them.”
She watched Chase mull it over. He looked like he was going to try to make an impassioned plea, but then he chuckled.
“OK, if we’re going to get ourselves killed like gallant knights of old, we should get Leslie and Barne in on it. They’re going to want to help.”
Rika sprang out of her chair and wrapped her arms around Chase. “I knew you’d understand.”
Chase gave a rueful laugh. “So much for a long and illustrious career in the Marauders.”