by M H Questus
“No! Never!” Zousizhe looked genuinely hurt. “The implication alone is insulting! No, constable. I’m just saying that there’s probably a fee to get all the paperwork sorted out, all the necessary hoops jumped through, all the i’s dotted and so forth. I don’t have time for any of that nonsense. I have a ship that I need repaired, you see. I’d give you enough credits to make sure those matters are legally and responsibly dealt with without tying me up in the process.” She held her hands out. “Do we have an accord?”
The sergeant nodded briskly at Zousizhe. “Fine. Help us find the marshal, and you’re in the clear for now.” He nodded towards Kobayashi. “Open the cell, deputy.”
“This is a bad idea, Sergeant,” Kobayashi muttered as he went over to the control panel.
“A very bad idea,” Di Mercurio said in a rare moment of agreement.
A few button presses later and the thick armoured glass pulled up into the ceiling.
“Excellent!” Zousizhe strode out of the cell, smiling broadly. “Thank you, constable. Now, there are only a few dozen hiding places on a ship like this that are big enough for an entire person. Shouldn’t take more than a few hours to hit all of them. Shall we go?”
Chapter 24: Borrowed Time
Morcos tapped her foot impatiently in the hover. Sneaking out of the Courageous had been more difficult and time consuming than she had wanted, and while she had faith in her crew’s ability to stall the constables for a while, they were only buying her minutes at best. And getting to the assigned spot of the meeting with Bellegarde was already chewing up time. She cursed that the automated hovers had preset speed limits. At least traffic was a thing of the distant past.
The hover slowed to a halt, depositing Morcos back into the station with a hiss of the hydraulic doors. She was out of the hover in moments, the door silently sliding shut behind her as the vehicle took off.
She pulled her cap down a little lower and flexed her bandaged hands. The nanobots had healed most of the damage, but it would still be a few days at least before they were back to completely normal. As it was her fingers felt stiff, and opening and closing them had a slight edge of pain to it.
She sighed and loosened the stunner slung low on her leg in the holster. Waiting would only increase the probability of her being caught. She headed into the narrow corridors and tunnels of Scorpii.
Her datapad gave her directions to the meeting location, a small office building that had been deserted for several years as businesses moved outwards and the sections of the station closer to the planet were given over to storage, living quarters, or simply abandoned. This particular office was pretty close to several small shuttle loading and unloading docks, but there would be little traffic so far from the major docking areas.
The corridors were littered with both refuse in the form of scraps of paper and cloth, and with pipes that occasionally jutted out of the walls, ceiling, and even floor at random intervals. Most pipes were wet with moisture, and a few had short icicles hanging from seams or thin whistling steam released into the air.
Morcos ducked and weaved through the pipes easily, cursing in annoyance under her breath.
She weaved through one more set of pipes, the corridor narrowing, and stumbled into an opening in front of the office building. Bellegarde smiled and waved at her.
The five men he was with, all carrying large, heavy rifles, did not.
“Marshal! So good you could make it.” Bellegarde nodded at her. “Wasn’t sure you’d be able to get off your ship and out here without the constables nabbing you or the protestors tearing you to pieces.”
Morcos shrugged. “Slipping past the constables was easy. The protestors took a bit more work, but with a good team at your side, anything is possible.”
“Ah, but your team is not currently at your side, I should point out.” Bellegarde laughed nervously. “I really had hoped to be out of here before you showed up.”
“I’m guessing your shuttle is still refueling? Hence the offer of waiting an hour.”
“Excellent guess, Marshal!” Bellegarde nodded. “And absolutely correct.”
“Explain one thing to me, Jules.” Morcos asked, leaning back against the wall behind her. “How did somebody like you get to afford muscle like this?”
“These gentlemen? Ah.” Bellegarde shrugged. “I thought you were going to ask why I did all this. That’s somehow disappointing.”
“Oh come on, Jules. I know why you did it.” Morcos laughed. “You’re doing what you think St. Clair wants.”
“What do you mean ‘thinks’?! I’m doing exactly what he wants.” Bellegarde narrowed his eyes, pointing angrily at Morcos. “Only difference is that I have to get results, while he gets to sit in his office and stare at numbers all day.”
“Is that so?”
“Damn straight.” Bellegarde nodded angrily again. “So I figure why let the whole sector go to hell, when we can determine the path with a few little nudges?”
“Nudges?”
“Sure. These gentlemen represent, shall we say, an interested 3rd party.”
The five men nodded humourlessly at Morcos.
“Their employer—”
“Rackham?”
“You do certainly impress. But that would be telling.” Bellegarde shrugged. “Their employer was offered a schedule of routes and checkpoints along the major Delta trade lanes. In return, they’ll be able to move their product without fear of interference from the Interplanetary Government. And all they need to do in return is help us lock up or destroy the other big-time criminal elements! It really was a win-win situation.”
“Interesting.” Morcos sighed. “You realize, of course, that you’ve probably signed the death warrant of every marshal in the sector.”
“What?” Bellegarde recoiled slightly and laughed. “For destroying one marshal ship!? That’s a bit extreme. Nobody in Delta ever had the illusion that the marshals were unkillable.”
“Think, Jules. Just think.” Morcos shifted her stance a little bit. The five humourless men were smiling cold, knowing smiles among themselves. “How long is the data you gave Rackham good for? A few months? A year, maybe? And there’s always the risk of a random checkpoint, or a marshal that’s a bit late or a bit early for their patrol. Too risky.”
“But…”
“So, instead, why not just send a few privateers to blow up the marshals? You know where they’re going to be, when they’re going to be there… heck, I imagine you even gave them the make and model of the starships and armament they’ll be bringing.”
The grins on the thugs was now positively wolfish. Bellegarde eyes were wide with sudden realization. “By the Nines, that wasn’t part of the deal!”
“I’m sure it wasn’t. But what does Rackham care? With all the sector marshals dead, how are you going to stop him? He’s already outnumbering and outgunning you.”
Bellegarde shook his head. “No, he wouldn’t.”
Morcos snorted, her shoulders shaking once. “Look at your companions, Jules. They already know the truth. They’ve been sent here not just to stop me, but to stop you from telling anyone what you’ve done.” Morcos sighed as the realization struck Bellegarde. “They were always going to kill you. The risk of you having a momentary flash of conscience is too high for what they’re planning.”
“They… I…” Bellegarde took a step back as one of the thugs swung his rifle towards the stunned deputy. “Wait! Wait!”
“Sorry, snitch.” The thug’s voice was thick and heavily accented. “Boss’s orders were very clear.” He raised his rifle with a sneer.
A laser bolt flew out and hit the thug squarely in the torso. He looked down at the smoking hole in his chest, grunted, and toppled backwards.
Morcos erupted into motion, ducking and drawing her stunner in one smooth movement. She fired it as fast as her aching fingers let her pull the trigger, a flurry of green energy flying out to strike the thugs.
The first shot struck true, knocking on
e completely senseless. The rest of the bolts struck the thugs in the arms, legs, and torso, screams of pain and anger rising as they dove for cover. One dropped to one knee, raising his rifle at Morcos. She aimed and squeezed off a shot as she leapt to her left. His laser blast went searing past her leg, burning off a long swath of the pant fabric and blistering her skin underneath, while her shot landed squarely between his eyes. He crumpled to the floor.
One of the attackers reached the safety of a doorway, only to be shot squarely in the back by another laser bolt from out of the darkness. He twitched as he fell, his fingers dropping the rifle from lifeless hands.
The last one threw away his rifle and ran off screaming. Morcos, still lying flat on the floor, calmly put a stunner bolt into the back of his head, dropping him a few paces from the nearest corridor.
She winced as she stood, examining the laser burn across her leg. It was painful, but the beam had only penetrated a few centimeters and cauterized as it cut. She’d have a limp for a while, but it should heal cleanly.
Her head jerked up with sudden realization. Where was Bellegarde?
“Hey Morcos. Sorry to keep you waiting.” Haley strode out from a nearby corridor, the slender laser rifle slung over one shoulder. “Took a bit longer to get into position than I expected.”
“No worries, barely any harm done.” She nodded her thanks to her deputy. “Did you see where Bellegarde went?”
Haley blinked twice and swiveled her head around a few times, searching for the rogue deputy. “No sign. I lost sight of him as soon as we started shooting! Damnit!”
Morcos took a few halting steps forward, wincing. “Damn, damn, damn,” she cursed under her breath. “He made for the closest shuttle docks.”
“You sure you don’t want to sit this one out, Marshal?” Haley nodded at Morcos’s leg. “That looks painful.”
“It feels worse. But I need you to get word to the Marshal Service about the leaked routes. I’ll go after Jules.”
“You sure?”
“No. But this is no time to discuss it. Let’s go.”
Chapter 25: Breaking Bellegarde
Bellegarde ran. He was pretty sure that he had never run so quickly before.
Sure, his time in the army had a few hair-raising moments, but he had never seen any real action. His father’s connections had kept him stationed on a safe planet in a secure garrison. The most danger he was ever in was during the grueling boot camp all the recruits were put through. Even then the training was only as dangerous as the other recruits, all of whom had teased him for one reason or another. His instructors had spotted a talent for calm and a desire for isolation in the young Bellegarde, and had transferred him to sniper training as soon as he was able. And it turned out he was a pretty good shot, but more importantly it gave him an excuse to be far, far away from everyone else for the vast majority of his tour.
When he finished his time in the armed forces, he was recommended to the Marshal Service, which originally he was excited about. An opportunity to bring law and order to his home sector of Delta was appealing, but his time with St. Clair quickly jaded him to the possibility of the sector ever becoming truly safe or lawful. All the resources, all the marshals, and most of the deputies ended up in Alpha, and the scant resources in the frontier were stretched to the breaking point.
And so he took the hints St. Clair made about pitting the two marshals against each other and ran with it. Rackham was happy to finance his plan, and everything seemed to be moving along the right track. Fate even tossed Smith back in his path, which was something he didn’t realize he wanted until it happened. It couldn’t be just good luck that she wasn’t the top ranked marshal and therefore wouldn’t be on the ship with the bomb, right?
Sure, Rackham would become more powerful, but he already was powerful, and arresting all his criminal competitors would make Delta a much, much safer place for everyone.
Even when Smith ended up on the wrong ship and injured by the bomb obviously meant for Morcos, Bellegarde didn’t waver. She came to him for help, and that was enough of a mistake that he could point the finger at her and then disappear into the wilds.
The realization that things would not proceed according to plan was a harsh slap in the face, and when the laser shot cut down the man aiming at Bellegarde, the deputy put his feet to the deckplates and ran.
Now he just wanted to get to his shuttle. It would take him somewhere else, someplace he could live quietly, without Rackham or the marshals finding him.
The shuttle was visible through the thick armour glass. It was a short-range vessel, enough to get him two jumps, maybe three or four if he was willing to stretch his supplies to their limit and go without a shower for a week. Not a big sacrifice, really, considering the sum of money he still had stashed away on the ship would let him live a modest but comfortable life for many, many decades without interference.
“Bellegarde!”
He heard the marshal call out from behind him and instinctively ducked his head. He knew her aim was off because of her injured hands, but even so she seemed plenty accurate enough a few minutes ago.
He continued to run. The airlock door, freedom, and safety, was only a few dozen meters away.
A stunner bolt hit him in the back, causing him to scream in pain and stumble a few steps.
So close. He dived behind a nearby stack of crates. His back felt like it was on fire where the bolt hit.
“Give it up, Bellegarde,” called out Morcos. “I’m not letting you off this station.”
“You may not have a choice in the matter, Marshal!” Bellegarde drew his laser pistol, the same model of weapon he had worn at his side as a sniper. He breathed a few slow breathes, concentrating on calming his nerves. He strained to listen for approaching steps, but Morcos was either being silent or stationary.
“We don’t have to do this,” Morcos said calmly, her voice soothing. “I know you’re scared. I know you thought you were doing what the Vice-Senior Marshal wanted. And I know you have to pay for your decisions. You ordered an attack on a Marshal Service ship, you killed a key witness, and you sold out the security of all the marshals in the sector. There are consequences to our actions, Jules. It’s time you faced yours.”
Bellegarde breathed in through his nose. The air smelt of burnt cloth and ozone. He opened his eyes.
“Fine,” he lied, placing her finger on the pistol’s trigger.
He held his left arm in front of his forehead. Sure, the bolts hurt, but he knew that only direct hits on his head would actually render him unconscious, and a sore arm was a small price to pay for his freedom.
“I’m coming out.”
Jules stood and spun, his pistol extended forward.
His last thought was the realization that the weapon held in the marshal’s hand was not, in fact, a stun pistol.
Morcos sighed deeply as she lowered her laser pistol, the hole through Bellegarde’s arm and head smoking slightly. She fought down the sudden urge to vomit.
Instead, she turned her back on the corpse and sat on the crates he was recently hiding behind. She holstered the military laser pistol behind her back again, and laboriously tapped into the datapad for support. The constables that showed up would be forced to arrest her, and she hoped they hadn’t been annoyed to the point of getting a bit rough with her in the process.
It would not be a good way to end the day.
Chapter 26: And Thus, We Begin
St. Clair was her first visitor, arriving moments after she had been escorted, briskly but not roughly, into her cell at the constabulary. The Vice-Senior Marshal looked pale and grim, but his eyes burned with an enthusiastic fire.
“So you got him.”
“Yes sir, I did.” Morcos nodded. “I wish I didn’t have to kill him, but he didn’t leave me any choice.”
St. Clair nodded. “I’ve seen the footage. How did you know he was going to fight?”
Morcos shrugged. “I could hear it in his voice. He still did
n’t think he had done anything wrong. No remorse, just regret that he had been caught. People like that don’t often give up, and I suspected he trusted in his aim to clip me on his first shot.”
“Yeah.” St. Clair nodded. “I met the man back when he was a sniper. Quiet, intense, focused. I thought maybe I could help reintegrate him into society. Help him realize that there are people worth protecting. That our work together could mean so much to so many.”
“You did your best, sir.” Morcos nodded, wincing as she leaned backwards. Her leg had been bandaged, but it throbbed painfully as the nanobots did their medical work.
“I’m sorry he managed to get so far without my notice.” St. Clair shook his head. “That was sloppy of me.”
“Don’t beat yourself up, sir.” Morcos shrugged. “If it weren’t for our tight time schedule, I’m sure he’d have had more time to cook up fake evidence against you, rather than being in such a rush that he deflected heat towards me. And you’re busy enough dealing with all the threats out there you probably didn’t have time to even realize that there were any threats internally.”
St. Clair nodded grimly. “Damnit Marshal, stop trying to make me feel better. I have two dead deputies on my hands for not catching this sooner, and I won’t have you denying me the right to feel at least somewhat responsible.”
“Sorry, sir.” Morcos smiled ruefully. “If it makes you feel any better, I originally thought you were the mastermind behind all of this.”
“I’ll try to remember that when salary negotiations come up.” He sighed. “You did good work. Drove that poor unit of constables nuts for an hour, but a small price to pay overall, I think.”
“I hope that sergeant can forgive me.”
“I wouldn’t worry too much about that. He seems quite smitten with that smuggler of yours. Didn’t want to stop searching the ship, even after we told him that we got ya.”
“Speaking of which, sir. When will I be out?”
St. Clair looked grim. “It’s actually going to take a little while, Marshal. Paperwork, you know, but we should have you out of here in three… maybe four weeks. Tops.”