Assassin

by Kacey Ezell

  “What’d they talk about?”

  “Eh. It was a while ago, Tam. I don’t know. Seemed friendly enough.”

  “You don’t know, or you need credits alongside your grandson’s life?”

  He tapped his nose and drank, and she blew out her breath with more force than necessary, putting her glass down to pull out her slate and type up a transfer.

  “That won’t clear unless it’s worth it, Gerren.”

  “They had a casual wager on some merc companies. Kelket’s picks were doing better, and Hrusha was giving her shit, saying there was no way a Lumar company could have outplayed a Tortantula. Kelket offered to let her throw in some Depik clan’s contracts, Hrusha laughed in her face and picked up the Winged Hussars instead. Sounded like a regular thing they do.”

  “But?”

  “Her tail was flicking pretty fast for a second there,” he said, shrugging and taking another sip. He spread out the fingers of his free hand for emphasis. “Don’t think Kelket coulda seen, the way their table was set up, and Hrusha stopped it quick, but that is innersting, no?” He drew the word out in a dramatic drawl. “Sign of some peeves, if I know my Depik stories.”

  “You don’t have to make a show of it, to make it sound more valuable.” Tamir sounded bored as ever, but Flame picked up the small signs of interest in her Human sidekick. “You know I’ll pay you.” Another tap, and she confirmed the payment, then picked her glass back up and polished off the liquid. “Anything else come to mind about Hrusha?”

  “Besides your boss getting blown up, you mean? That surprised me, and I’ll tell you that for free. I know a buncha species have that ‘we never do whatever’ rule, but I also know almost all of ‘em have individuals that go and do whatever they want. Depik though, I believed they didn’t go running around killing each other. Can’t imagine there’d be any left, given how good they are at it. Or they’d never be able to take a paying contract, ‘cause they’d be stuck avoiding or hunting each other all over the galaxy.”

  “It does seem unlikely,” Tamir murmured, helping herself to a refill from the bottle when he didn’t make any moves to pour for her again. He didn’t pretend to protest, so her payment must have been fair.

  “Heard a bit about her replacement, the one who took her out. The normal buzz you get with a new Peacemaker, only thing that stood out is this one was maybe fond of Humans, and folks were wondering what that meant, if she’d go around collecting some.”

  “Mostly we just call them aides,” Tamir replied with humor in her voice, and he snorted something close to a laugh and shrugged.

  “You been spending some time with Diaden, and if he isn’t a little lapdog…Much good it’ll do him, with Kelket about to retire herself. Been getting sick, you know, wavy around edges.” Another shrug, and Gerren grabbed the bottle to stow behind the bar, with a slight detour to top off his own glass. “Had a group of Sidar that was pretty chatty about the possibilities with the new Peacemaker, and you can talk to Althagar, but they lost face after that Elgon IV incident, so I’d say it was just normal jockeying.”

  Tamir’s turn to shrug, and she sipped her drink with both hands for something to do besides fidget. After a minute and a fair amount of drinking, she tapped her glass to Gerren’s and left it on the bar.

  “Tell your grandson I said hello,” she said as she stood, Flame taking the moment to stretch while they said their good-byes. “And try not to piss off any more bounty hunters while I’m away.”

  “Only my favorites,” he said, and Flame assumed that meant they’d apologized to each other in a decidedly Human manner.

  Still unable to talk to each other, Human and Hunter walked down the furthest hallway to the most out of the way lift to minimize stops back to their level, both occupied with their own thoughts. There was little traffic at this time of day, so Flame relaxed her vigilance slightly, not having to watch for unexpected legs, tentacles, or carts who wouldn’t see her to get out of the way.

  Their silent bet paid off, the lift dropping every level without stopping, and as the doors opened, Flame considered if she and Tamir had taken the same information from the old man. She didn’t notice how much lower the lighting level was in the hall outside the lift, her pupils widening automatically to give her a clear view.

  “The fuck?” Tamir asked, and Flame focused, realizing it was too dark for unassisted Human eyes to make out more than shadows in gloom.

  “Don’t you have goggles?” Flame pitched her voice for hopefully only Tamir’s ears and moved forward smoothly. Tamir’s noise of disgust indicated the bounty hunter did have goggles that would give her night vision, but stowed and not on her. Humans. All these tools to help them adapt to an unfriendly universe, and they go wandering about in their thin skin with their barely functional senses, leaving all those toys at home.

  “Hall’s clear.” It smelled off, bright and bitter with some sort of smoky chemical mix. “For now.” The nonstop lift felt slightly more suspicious now, but all Flame could think, for the second time that day, was Finally.

  It seemed stupid to herald an attack by turning the lights off and not immediately pouncing, but then whoever was coming thought Tamir was alone. Joy bubbled through Flame, washing away the restlessness she’d fought since they left Khatash.

  They made it partway down the hall, just out of sight from the door that led to the main corridor. As they approached the curve, Flame ran ahead, and nearly laughed. Five Human figures, no protective shields, no special armor, barely more than the minimum tactical spacing. They didn’t think Tamir was an easy target given their numbers, but they weren’t worried enough to prepare well.

  Fun.

  “Five,” she announced, startling all of them with the sound even as she passed undetected between them. In the middle of their grouping she leapt, digging her claws into and through the protective padding on number Three’s thigh, cutting deep into the skin below. She used that to swing her momentum through his legs and up, landing on his back, which made for the easiest access to reach around to his throat, cutting the burgeoning scream into a satisfying gurgle. Even as he fell, the Human in the point position lifted a knife and went high for Tamir as she slid low around the corner.

  Flame spared a passing thought to wonder why they weren’t using force weapons, but that could wait until after the fight. She flung herself back from Three as he fell, landing on Four’s chest and clawing him across the face for the sheer fun of it—the Human’s panic when he couldn’t see her, but could certainly feel her, almost made up for all the boring interviews she’d watched.

  The Human was well trained enough to bring up his knife, not just grab at whatever was sticking to him, so Flame kicked off with her back legs and flipped over his head, cutting his helmet free and non-fatally slicing the sides of his neck in the process. He was still making shriek, panicky sounds, slashing around with the knife, so Flame dropped back to the ground to give him a second. Five rushed forward, going for Tamir or whatever had dropped his friends, and Flame made a low sound of approval. Die brave, little Human. As he passed she lunged and moved up his body in precise fashion, slicing both his achilles, digging into his inner thigh where the largest of arteries waited, skipping his spine only because it was too much work to cut his vest free, and taking out the jugular just for kicks, given he’d be dead within seconds of flopping to the floor.

  She had a moment to see Tamir throw a knife at Two—it missed his face but hit him enough to throw off his run, which Flame found impressive for a Human in this lack of light—then turned back to Four, who was still slashing at nothing and had moved on to incoherent yelling. It was nice when they put on a show, but better to cut this short in case they had backup. She unsheathed a knife from her side, since that seemed to be the weapon of choice in this brawl, and stabbed him twice in the leg to get his hands aiming lower, then backed up to throw the knife directly into his throat.

  Even as he sank to the ground with his hands wrapped around the hilt, the sh
outs tried to bubble up out of his throat along with the blood. Humans really were determined things, sometimes.

  Rather than delay the inevitable, she reached forward to pluck the knife out of both his hands and throat, letting the blood pour free, and turned again to check on Tamir. One was down, still attempting to get up but incapacitated in some way, and Two slashed at her with far more discipline than poor Four had managed. As Two also had the benefit of night vision, while Tamir had to count on her other senses, Flame decided a bit of support was in order. Two’s boots were higher and thicker than Five’s, so slicing his achilles wouldn’t be nearly as convenient, and she didn’t want to jump too high and end up in Tamir’s altitude of attack.

  Disappointed, she sheathed her knife and unholstered the smallest of her guns. When Tamir threw herself back just ahead of a jab, Flame fired, the air sizzled, and Two fell hard to the ground, his momentum carrying him nearly into Tamir before he fell. Flame darted forward to grab his knife, used it to finish off One, and took the barest moment to enjoy the overwhelming victory. “All down,” she said, not bothering to lower her voice, because who cared at this point.

  “Why the hell didn’t they shoot?” Tamir asked, working her way forward in the low light. “Grab one of their weapons, maybe we can—”

  “Got it. Let’s get to the ship—this wasn’t great, so they probably weren’t alone, and now they know you aren’t either.”

  Tamir made a noise of agreement, and picked her way over the sprawled bodies. Five was still moving, but weakly, so Flame paused only long enough to flip off his goggles and dip the knife into and back out of his eye. Someone on the station would be experienced enough to identify the wounds, perhaps, but they didn’t need a last-breath whispered account of what had happened. Flame had never been a fan of witnesses.

  “You don’t even have blood on you. Walk to the ship, nothing happened, I’ll stay next to you.” Flame narrowed her pupils before the door slid open into the brighter main corridor, almost disappointed that no more shadowy figures had collected during their fight in the hall.

  They still had a few ports to go before their ship’s dock when Flame got another chance.

  “Tamir Alcuin, formerly on contract with Peacemaker Hrusha, by order of law you are bound to stop.” The voice was officious, skewed machine-like by the security helmet obscuring the Lumar head underneath. Other passing beings moved quickly out of the way, leaving the path clear between Tamir and the taller figure ahead.

  “Identify yourself,” Tamir snapped, her pace confident, not swerving a single step.

  “You are bound—”

  “The hell I am. You have no badge and are not Peacemaker security, and I don’t know you.”

  “You are—”

  “Someone call security!” Tamir bellowed, and before Flame could get a third step, someone fired a bolt gun—it went wide of Tamir, could have been poorly aimed at the helmeted figure, or a warning shot meant to clear everyone else out, but either way, it was clear what they needed to do.

  Another shot, some ululating cries from a Sidar in the crowd, and Flame bolted forward to foul the Lumar’s legs, rather than aiming for a nonexistent vulnerable spot. Her momentum and angle provided just enough force, knocking the Lumar to the ground and giving Tamir room to run. The woman kicked his gun away as she passed.

  The helmeted attacker bellowed, and Flame turned to see Peacemaker-marked figures closing in on it, their own guns trained on the prone figure. No one was paying attention to Tamir, which seemed like the best time to get out.

  Tamir ran the rest of the way to the ship, shouting back the shortest of answers the few times someone ran by the other way. Whatever that had been, they needed to be clear of it, and their ship was the best option.

  Flame, still in her quintessence field, kept pace and thought about the next move. They’d have to trade the ship out for another as soon as possible. For someone to attack here, at Peacemaker headquarters, meant the benefits of a Peacemaker ship wouldn’t be worth the obviousness of it. They’d have to make haste to some backward station to leave the ship and get passage to a smuggler shipyard. If Tamir didn’t have untraceable credits stored away somewhere, Flame was fairly sure some of her smaller accounts would have been missed in the clan freeze.

  If not, things were going to get even more interesting.

  * * * * *

  Dilemma

  Deluge had Rurranach join them at the Proud Fist headquarters in order to formulate a plan.

  “Where do we start?” Deluge asked as he sat with the Sidar and Uban in the room that the Lumar merc had indicated was best for a conference. It wasn’t a large space, but it was comfortable, with a large table and chairs that would suit a number of different species. Several viewscreens hung on the walls at various intervals, and the corner cabinets held a variety of consumables generally considered to be luxury offerings. The Veetanho commanders of Proud Fist had obviously not been overly concerned with living a spartan lifestyle.

  “Well, what is it we need?” Rurranach asked. He looked up at the big Lumar who stood beside his chair. They’d offered Uban a seat, but he’d declined. Apparently, the chairs were for commanders only. Deluge, of course, sat directly on the table. “Uban, you said your company is back up to full strength, yes?”

  “New troops. Green. Strong but need training. Need experience. Need commander.”

  “Yes,” the Sidar said, “we are working on that. So ideally, we’re looking for an experienced mercenary commander. Or sub commander looking for a promotion. Someone with an idea of how to train, equip, and lead a full company.”

  “And good. Need good commander. Not butcher,” Uban put in.

  “Yes. That too.”

  “Well, that shouldn’t be too hard to find,” Deluge said, his tone dry and deadpan. “I’m sure there are hundreds of paragons like that just floating around the galaxy, waiting for a company to fall into their laps.”

  “Your sarcasm is noted, my friend,” Rurranach said, “but I think you’d be surprised. I have a feeling that if we were to journey to one of the larger merc pits, we’d find someone who fit the bill quite well. I suspect you’d even feel rather good about some of your choices.”

  “Oh? And why is that?” Deluge asked.

  “Because many of the beings I have in mind happen to be Human.”

  Deluge’s ears twitched as he digested this information. Uban’s face pulled into something that might have been a frown, and he crossed both sets of arms over his chest.

  “Humans weak?” he asked. “Need strong commander. Smart commander.”

  “Not at all,” Deluge said. “Perhaps one on one, they might be. They’ve begun to make quite a name for themselves, however, using increasingly sophisticated battle armor to make up for their natural deficiencies. And more importantly, they’re cunning and creative. I was raised by a Human, Uban, and she taught me well how to stay alive. Rurranach is right. A Human commander might be just what you need. If we can find the right Human.”

  Somewhat to his surprise, Deluge realized he felt a fair amount of responsibility for the Proud Fist company. Not because he’d killed their commander…that was a contract, and he’d been paid well to do the job. But more because he’d made the call to kill their deputy and left them without a leader. If his reasons for killing Apeya had been valid, then those reasons were enough for him to see that these Lumar mercs were given into hands that would do right by them.

  And so, he cared. Inconvenient, perhaps, but there it was. He cared, so he would see to it that they got a decent commander, and then he would be on his way.

  “Good. Right Human, then,” Uban said. “Not weak Human. Good Human.”

  “Yes,” Rurranach said. “We must definitely have a good Human. And as I said, I think we will find what we’re looking for in one of the larger Merc pits. The closest one is Telpa. We can be there in a single transition. Though we won’t all be able to fit on your ship, Del.”

  “Uban stay,” t
he Lumar said quickly. “Get ready for Good Human Commander.”

  “That works,” Deluge said. “I suppose this means we have a plan. Do you have any reason we shouldn’t leave right away?”

  “No,” Rurranach said.

  “All right, let’s do that. We can sleep in hyperspace.”

  * * *

  Deluge had visited merc pits before, but he never ceased to be impressed by the air of such places. The excitement and aggression-soaked atmosphere raised his fur and caused his aggressive nature to come to the fore.

  “I doubt we’ll have much luck in the main bidding pits,” Rurranach said shortly after they arrived on Telpa. “We’re not looking for someone in a position to be seeking contracts. The person we’re looking for is hoping to be found by a company in need of experienced fighters. For that, we go to the bar.”

  “I bow to your wisdom in this,” Deluge said as he fell into step beside the Sidar. They both wore the kind of nondescript cloak favored by those looking to avoid notice. Since a fair number of other beings were similarly clothed, the cloaks worked pretty well.

  As they walked past the entrance to one of the pits, noise and light, and some of that particularly unique atmosphere spilled out. So, too, did a pair of Goka, who had apparently been getting a bit rowdy for the establishment’s staff. Deluge dodged the carapaced aliens and kept his hood pulled down low. He may have hated wearing clothing, but it did come in handy from time to time.

  “This place looks good,” Rurranach said a moment later as they approached a quieter, seedier looking place next door to the pit. The light inside was dim enough that Deluge retracted his glasses, and the air reeked of various different forms of intoxicating substances. Tables of diverse heights stood scattered around the room, and a decrepit-looking serving bot covered in old stains wove through them carrying a tray. At a midlevel table in the back, a single figure sat hunched over a small glass. A tall bottle half-full of clear liquid sat in front of him, and as they watched, he poured some of this into the glass and drank it all at once. Deluge had to fight not to wrinkle his nose as they approached. That stuff smelled like what Murrron used to clean engine parts.