by C. R. Daems
"Nonsense. I demand satisfaction… from her!" Fermin’s face was twisted and flushed red in anger. I smiled mentally at the thought. I didn’t know his skill with weapons, but I knew mine and the years that went into developing it.
"Sorry, Prince Fermin. As Prince Badal will confirm, I don’t do contests or demonstrations or entertain. But if someone draws a weapon on me, I will respond with deadly force. So if you are considering drawing that weapon you’re playing with under your jacket, I hope your affairs are in order."
"Frederic, please collect Prince Fermin’s weapon," the Speaker said while watching Fermin. "Prince Fermin, you know only the guards are allowed weapons inside the conference room."
"She has one. I need it for protection against that murdering bitch."
"She has permission. You don’t."
Fermin stood staring at me as he debated his options. My mind quieted as I awaited his decision, not caring whether he did or didn’t give up the weapon. Eventually the laser came out from under his jacket. He hesitated a moment then handed it to Frederic, who took it and walked back to his post.
"Now gentlemen, we have a long day in front of us if we are to finish today."
* * *
"I usually enjoy seeing the city and shopping, but I’ll be glad to get home," Sophia said, as they sat eating dinner. "Perhaps the laws need to be changed to permit daughters to rule."
Badal laughed, but put up his hand before anyone could comment. "You and I should live so long. I wish you could succeed me if I died first and Jovana after us, but I’m afraid that will never happen in our lifetime. The Azarias are growing in strength and ruthlessness each year. I believe that in time they will come into power. They are not above a civil war if all else fails. Except for your insistence that I hire the Black Guard for the trip to Hezuo, they would have succeeded this year."
"Well, Captain Sapir, what are you doing six months from now?" Sophia asked. She didn’t smile. Badal was right. She would make a good ruler.
"I don’t know, Princess. I serve at the will of the Jax."
* * *
We left Hezuo two days later, and to Badal’s surprise, we had a military escort to the Surat border. It was obvious the Speaker was concerned over Badal’s safety. Back at the estate, I was notified that the Jax cruiser, Crouching Tiger, had returned.
"No reflection on Colonel Jarde, but I wish I could afford to keep you around. I can’t. The Jax are very expensive, although I have to admit worth the credits. Do you have any suggestions?"
"You might consider letting Colonel Jarde provide you with something close to Black Guard security. If you wish, I could speak to him about what that could look like and the training necessary."
"Thank you. I’d appreciate that. Colonel Jarde is a good man: loyal, dedicated, and smart. If anyone can pull it off, he can."
Two days later, two civilian shuttles delivered us to the Molova space station, where the Jax cruiser waited. We were loaded aboard and departed almost before the boarding bay was sealed. It had been a good assignment—our clients were unhurt, my family survived, and I had managed to keep tradition and duty intact.
CHAPTER NINE
Jax: Family Reunion
I approached Commander Wexler’s desk, stopped, and bowed low, looking towards the floor. As Commander of the Black Guard, he was the only person accorded that honor from a Black Guard—analogous to an animal exposing its vulnerable underbelly.
"At ease, Captain. I’m pleased with your recent assignment. Of course, I’m usually pleased when our client lives, and in your case, the captain manages to keep tradition and duty together." He smiled and took a drink from the glass of water sitting on his ebony desk. He picked up a small tablet, tapped on it, and my report appeared as a holograph off to my left. "Have a seat, Sapir." He waved to a wooden chair with black leather padding on the seat, back, and arms. When I sat, he enlarged the holograph until it was easy to read from my chair and his, which were roughly the same distance from the image.
"I was particularly interested in your after-action-report since Molova was not a normal assignment for the Guard. Normally, the army would accompany clients if they were in transit. I assigned you specifically because you don’t seem to think traditionally, maybe because you are new or maybe it’s just your nature. I need to understand which and if that makes you more suitable for non-traditional assignments or… whether that makes you unsuitable for the Guard." He paused and stared at me as if the answer was hidden on me somewhere. The thought that I might be unsuitable for the Guard made my heart pound so hard I thought he must be able to hear it. "Does that sound strange, Sapir?"
"No, sir. The Guard is your responsibility—its reputation, people, performance," I said. I felt the same way about my team.
"Yes, in simple terms, the Guard is my life, my family. So I must have captains I can trust, not only to uphold the traditions of the Guard, but also to best utilize the people assigned to him or her. And although I expect the Guard to die fighting to protect our clients, no matter how unworthy, I’d much rather they found a way to do it without losing a single life. You did that at Lanzhou—saved the clients and minimized the Guard losses. Your solution both made me proud and scared the shit out of me. If you had all died at the governor’s estate the universe would have understood. But, if you had died in the forest, I’m not sure if the universe wouldn’t have concluded the Guard ran in fear, even though you didn’t."
"I understand, Commander. Perception is important and could impact the Guard’s future relations."
"Exactly." He sat flipping through my report. "Good call having Sergeant Catz kill Prince Badal’s guards." He laughed at the section where I recounted the incident with the replacement cook. "You may be more paranoid than me, Sapir." He spent another hour going over each incident in the report, asking questions, and probing my reasoning before settling back in his chair.
"I’m pleased with your performance, Captain Sapir. I’m going to give you time to train with Tzadok. He believes you have the potential to make dragon." He paused and frowned. "I need someone to evaluate a new weapon designed for the Guard, but it’s been designed by your family…" He left the sentence unfinished. "Could I be impartial?" hung unspoken in the air.
"My family is the Guard, Commander."
"They raised you and were left with little choice when your mother conceived your brother Alvah." He cocked his head, waiting for my response.
"Alvah was not an accident. My father wanted sons, not daughters. He waited until Adam would be too old and I would be the only one eligible. As a girl, I became a throw-away from birth. Their religion puts little value on women beyond cleaning and childbirth," I said without anger or wanting to change the past. "At the time, I hated my parents and wanted to die. But Hada, Captain Attali, dragged me into her dream of the Guard. It’s a wonderful dream, and I’m at peace."
Wexler nodded and his face softened. "Yes, it’s a beautiful dream. It also explains much about your decisions at Lanzhou and Molova. Unlike Captain Attali who questions herself, you do not. It’s now your turn to drag your sister into your world," he said, a small smile reached his lips. "I’d like you to evaluate Mr. Sapir’s new multi-functional weapon as a replacement for our present one. I will set up a demonstration at the commando facility at Eillat. Until then, you are free to work with Dragon Tzadok.
* * *
"You have greatly improved, Rivka. As you must begin to understand, it’s not so much technique that makes a dragon but a quiet mind. And it’s obvious that you are at peace with yourself."
"I feel at peace. I feel like this is where I belong, like there is no other place I’d rather be," I said, using my shirt to wipe sweat from my face as we sat resting in the shade of several pine trees after a two hour workout. Fighting with Tzadok this time was… different. He could still best me, but I was making him work for those wins and had scored one out of three times—Hada’s dream, to score against a dragon.
"It’s apparent in you
r fighting this week," he said, taking a drink of water and splashing some over his head. "I enjoyed reading your report on the Molova assignment. Your approach was interesting. Dragons are frequently assigned to a single person and our approach is similar—never let the person out of your sight unless he’s in a secure room you can guard." Tzadok laughed. "Like having him under arrest."
"The Colonel isn’t sure he likes my style," I said, seeking—if not advice, an opinion.
"Don’t worry about it. Dragons make Commander Wexler nervous because we are too independent in our thinking; therefore, he’s never sure what we will do in a given situation. He feels that way about you. But you will be the first person he will put in a new environment—like Molova. That showed a great deal of trust. The Commander is a worrier. It goes with the territory. We are responsible for clients, but he is responsible for the Guard. Wouldn’t trade him for the world nor want his responsibility."
* * *
Wexler contacted me the next afternoon, letting me know the demonstration had been arranged for two days from then. I found the idea of me evaluating an Mfw designed by Sapir and Sons Security Systems ironic—he wanted sons to carry on the business, but his daughter would be evaluating their success.
* * *
A commando shuttle picked me up at first light, and we arrived at Eillat early in the afternoon. The base was located over twenty kilometers from the nearest town, which was Hadera were my parents lived. When I exited the shuttle, a tall commando lieutenant stood waiting next to a military ground vehicle. His curly brown hair and slightly round face gave him a youthful look. He was dressed in their standard dark-blue combat fatigues with their camouflage patterns. He straightened and saluted as I approached.
"Captain Sapir, I’m Lieutenant Yarden. Colonel Odelia sends his regards. I’m to escort you to him. He’s waiting with the three men from Sapir Security Systems. A family reunion?" he asked.
"No, Guard business," I said, because anything else would generate more questions than I wanted to discuss. He took the hint and spent the time pointing out various structures as we sped by. "This area of the camp is primarily for those kids who passed the introductory commando training, avoided the army but didn’t qualify for the Guard," he said, followed by a good natured laugh. "It involves more intense physical training. The area we are approaching is where the graduates come to learn about life aboard a cruiser and boarding techniques."
It was strange to see several cruisers resting on the ground near buildings rather than in the sky or at a space station. I guess it saved time and money having to transport troops back and forth.
"Erie looking, isn’t it?" Yarden shook his head. "Gave me the creeps the first time I saw it. Like you just entered another world where reality is upside down." He pointed to our left. Off in the distance, I could see occasional puffs of smoke and hear muffled sounds. "That’s the practice range and to the right is the area where exercises are conducted. This facility encompasses over fifty square kilometers." A minute later, he pulled off onto a side road and several hundred meters later into a roped off area where several military vehicles were parked. Through a long open shed with tables, I could see targets and behind them a two-story bunker. Only a few people were currently there milling around one of the tables. As we neared, I recognized my father and two brothers. My father had gained weight and his face had more lines, but otherwise, he looked the same. Adam looked the same except he had grown taller and filled out everywhere. I could recognize Alvah only by his resemblance to Adam. His expression looked curious while my father’s and Adam’s smiles looked strained.
"Colonel Odelia, this is Captain Sapir, the Guard who Commander Wexler sent to evaluate the new weapon," he said after a salute. Odelia and I exchanged shallow bows.
"Welcome, Captain Sapir. Are you related to these Sapirs?" he asked.
"Yes, my birth father and brothers."
"Seems strange sending family to evaluate a potential contract," he said, waiting for a response.
"Would you approve an unsuitable weapon made by your family for the commandos?"
The tension in his face relaxed. "I apologize, Captain."
I turned towards my father and brothers. "Good morning. If I could see the weapon, please." What more was there to say? Haven’t seen you in years? Miss me?
"Rivka, aren’t you glad to see your family, your brothers?" Adam said with a forced friendliness in his voice. He extended his hand. "We missed you."
"The Guard do not shake hands, Adam. The weapon, please." Adam had laughed when my father said I was being sent to the Jax military.
"Colonel, I object. My daughter is clearly angry and seeking revenge. We are not going to get a fair evaluation," Abram said, his voice rising several octaves by the last few words.
"Captain Sapir is an officer in the Black Guard. I have no authority over her. You may leave and lodge a complaint with Commander Wexler, commander of the Guard, but I would advise against it. Captain Sapir’s behavior has been normal. The Black Guard do not salute anyone or shake hands or bow lower than they can see your eyes," he said, fighting back a smile. Just then, Alvah walked up and handed me the weapon.
"Here, sister. I think it’s exciting having my sister a captain in the Black Guard. This Mfw was designed with the Guard in mind. It’s a half kilogram lighter and four centimeters shorter. It shoots nine-millimeter bullets at eighteen hundred rounds per minute—a full three hundred rounds faster, the shard spread at twenty-five meters can be varied from one to ten meters—two meters larger than standard, and it’s capable of firing HEIAP, High Explosive Incendiary/Armor Piercing Ammunition, at one hundred rounds per minute—a full fifty rounds faster."
"Thank you, Alvah," I said, taking the weapon and examining the look, feel, and position of the controls, turning it in my hands. "How does it attach to the thigh?"
"A holster like this one." Adam stepped forward with a leather-looking holster with a red dragon embossed on the side.
"Strap it on your leg, Adam, and insert the weapon in it. I’d like to see how it works," I said, anticipating the potential problem of drawing it. He did and then straightened with a broad smile, probably imagining himself in the commandos or Guard. "Good, I’ll give you five minutes to practice drawing it. Afterward, I’d like a demonstration." I picked up a duplicate Mfw from the table and took a couple of steps to stand facing the targets. "Alvah, would you explain the controls to me, please?"
Alvah walked over, took the gun, and pointed to a button that activated a small screen with multiple icons. The icons activated the appropriate device while others, like the shard icon, brought up another screen to control the spread of the shards.
"Can someone get me magazines with live ammo?" I asked, and turned to Yarden. "Lieutenant, could you or someone set up four targets at twenty-five and four at fifty meters?"
He nodded and waved to a corporal as Abram walked up with several containers and handed them to Alvah, who demonstrated where each was to be inserted. When I finished, I looked to Yarden, who nodded and then pressed a button and a loud siren blasted out ten short shrills well in excess of one hundred decibels.
"Ready on the range, Captain," Yarden said after surveying the area. I clicked on the nine-millimeter component and shot once each at the twenty-five and fifty meter targets, then switched to shards, keeping the spread tight for the twenty-five target and wide open for the fifty. Then I tried a HEIAP shell at the twenty-five and fifty meter targets. Afterward, I ejected the magazines, handed them and the Mfw back to Alvah, and I nodded to Yarden, who initiated a long siren blast to indicate all firing should cease. He had the corporal collect the targets and put up new ones at my request. I then turned to Adam.
"Please check the weapon to ensure it isn’t loaded and then give me a demonstration of drawing the weapon. Four or five times, if you will." I waited while he checked the weapon and holstered it. Then he prepared himself like the gunfighters in the old Earth movies. He flicked up the strap holding the
weapon in the holster and drew it, bringing it up in front of him in my direction. I stepped forward, slipping sideway so the weapon was almost touching my stomach but pointing harmlessly pass me. Simultaneously, I struck him in the solar plexus with my right hand and snatched the weapon out of his hand with my left as the air exploded out of him and he staggered backward, gasping for breath.
"Why did you do that?" Abram yelled, catching Adam in his arms.
"You don’t point weapons at people. They are not toys," I said quietly, and noticed the Colonel and Lieutenant smiling.
"It wasn’t loaded."
"Under no circumstances, Mr. Sapir. Adam, when you are ready, another demonstration, please."
He steadied himself, wanting desperately to attack me. Sanity won out. He turned toward the targets and drew, then again four more times.
"Thank you, Adam." I waved everyone to me. "You will get an official report from the Guard, but I will tell you my initial assessment. First, the holster for the weapon is unacceptable. It hinders the drawing of the weapon by several seconds. The lightness of the weapon is an improvement over our existing Mfw; however, shortening the barrels affects its accuracy—"
"You only fired it once! That’s not a test! Colonel…" Abram looked to Odelia.
"Colonel, if you would please check the targets for the projectiles." I waved at the targets the corporal had retrieved. He shrugged and looked through the targets.
"Yes, the projectiles hit slightly to the left of the twenty-five meter target and two centimeters to the left on the fifty meter target." He gave a wry smile. "But you only fired one projectile at each target."
"Adam, load your Mfw with one round of each type and holster it. Then prepare to fire on the targets in the order I did." I turned to Yarden. "Do you have a stopwatch?" I asked. When he nodded I continued. "When Adam says he’s ready, time him for ten-seconds then shout ’stop.’ You will do the same for me except in three-seconds. Adam, you don’t have to hit the bull’s-eye, just the target, so don’t spend a lot of time aiming."