Hold the Line (Chimera Company Book 5)

by Tim C. Taylor

  She gave a whistle. Enthree, Bronze, and Zavage appeared on the surrounding rooftops, weapons aimed at the man with the senior officer’s insignia.

  The vice marshal showed no reaction. “O’Connor,” he said quietly, “if you please.”

  Twenty more troopers appeared at the next intersection, all with PPR3 blasters at the low ready.

  “As a recently reinstated Militia NCO,” Arunsen said, “it gives me no pleasure at all to say that even though you outnumber us, we outgun you.”

  “And our positioning is tactically advantageous,” Sybutu said.

  Lily stuck her finger in her ear and twisted. “Funny,” she said. “I thought I heard you two agreeing.”

  The vice marshal must have known if the shooting started, he’d be dead within a second, but he seemed untroubled.

  “You misunderstand,” he said. “I merely wish to have a conversation. My preference would be an interrogation room in Hub A, but I’m prepared to listen to alternatives.”

  “I hear the foam cafés are good on this station,” Lily said. “It’s time I sampled one.”

  “In that case, may I suggest the Red Ring. You passed it a short way back.” The vice marshal rolled his eyes. “The name amuses the crudest wits among my troopers, but its iced foam lattes are to die for.”

  Lily narrowed her eyes as she tried to figure out precisely how she was being played. It didn’t matter. Sparking a reaction was her mission objective.

  The officer extended a hand. “Vice Marshal Tonozan. A pleasure to meet you.”

  Lily smiled and shook Tonozan’s hand.

  For once in her life, she had a powerful backer prepared to pull strings for her. Indiya had done more than pardon the members of Chimera Company and unfreeze their backpay. Lily had also been given access to a hefty expense account. To a boss who had to be wealthier than most planets, the money was nothing, but it was a big deal to Lily.

  “Very well; the Red Ring it is.” Lily grinned. “Drinks are on me.”

  The last comment wiped the smug look off the vice marshal’s face, and that was worth every one of Indiya’s credits she’d be paying.

  * * *

  This wasn’t Lily’s first armed standoff, but it was definitely the politest. Plus, in this one, you got to sit down.

  The seating in the Red Ring was arranged like the board of a wargame she used to play as a kid. She sat with the vice marshal in the central valley at street level, the space in the game the blue and red teams would fight over. To either side were raised seating areas. Like the hills in her game board, they had curved edges that bulged out into the central area.

  The station’s troopers occupied the high ground with the salient nearest the counter and the restrooms. Chimera Company’s zone protruded near the front entrance. Firearms were laid on tables next to cups of foam drinks and plates of pastries and iced biscuits. Participants sat at their tables, facing each other across the room as they enjoyed their treats.

  Enthree was the only exception. She’d attached herself to the wall like a spider, enjoying her foam coffee upside down as she hung there.

  Lily couldn’t decide whether the Muryani’s stance was meant to intimidate, or she was simply showing off. If it was meant as a threat display, it wasn’t entirely successful. Amazingly, some of the patrons already there when the two groups of armed people rolled in had refused to budge. They were still finishing their morning coffees.

  “Surveillance is such a bore when it’s being done to you,” Tonozan said. He walked around their table, dropping a dozen devices on the floor in a crude circle. Privacy shield.

  He activated it, and the café blurred outside a dome surrounding their table.

  “You’ve had a raw deal,” Tonozan said. “The way the Militia’s treated you has been appalling.”

  “I agree. What precisely did you do to prevent that, Vice Marshal?”

  He sat back in surprise. “Why, nothing of course. Why should I have helped you?”

  Lily ignored the pompous toe rag and sipped her drink, allowing it to pool over her tongue. Exquisite taste sensations exploded, coating her mouth with delicate bubbles of sugared vanilla butter. She swallowed and enjoyed the taste change to roasted bezelnuts as the concoction traveled down her gullet.

  Tonozan cleared his throat. “I’ve worked to establish a certain level of personal comfort, privilege, and prestige. I wasn’t prepared to risk that for a vainglorious fool who decided to point out the flaws in her senior commanders, especially when she subsequently strutted around like a shaved anus, fellating her moral superiority in front of the entire fucking galaxy. No offence.”

  “None taken. You Militia senior officers have maxed out on offensiveness as far as I’m concerned. Nothing you can say can make me despise you more.”

  Tonozan shook his head. “You’ve learned nothing, Hjon. The only way you’ve changed is that you’re now a tattooed asshole.”

  “Maybe, but you’ve learned nothing either, Tonozan. Not based on our little chat. You say you want to talk with me, but all you do is throw insults so lame that a trooper in basic training could do better.”

  “What’s your plan?”

  “What’s yours?”

  The vice marshal shrugged. “Prestige, luxury, security. When they started arresting senior Legion officers, I enjoyed their dismay, but I was a fool, because now they’re coming for us.”

  “Who is?”

  “I don’t know. They’re coming from too many directions at once. The danger is noisy, but it’s definitely there.” He raised his cup to his lips, but paused before drinking. “Tell me, Hjon, have you heard of Department 9?”

  “I’ve encountered them, yes.”

  He gulped his drink but showed no sign of enjoying it. “At the very least, I see we have a mutual enemy. I ask again, why are you here? Why is Fitzwilliam here? What’s your agenda?”

  Lily grinned, then yelled the Militia battle cry, “Liberty or death!”

  It was as well that the privacy shield hid the cry, otherwise it would have been a bloodbath.

  “That’s the choice before us,” she told Tonozan. “Liberty or death. For you, for me, for the Militia, for the entire Federation.”

  “Five Hells! You’re serious.”

  “Deadly. And we haven’t much time. Be ready. Soon, you’ll have to make a choice. The privileged lifestyle you want is already gone. If you want it back, you’ll have to fight for it. But it won’t be me you’ll have to fight. That’s all I’ll say for now. Be ready to make your choice.”

  “Oh, I’m ready, Hjon. I just haven’t decided which way to jump.” The smug veck sipped his drink, holding the handle between two fingers and a thumb like an aristo. “You’re not the only one trying to recruit me.”

  * * * * *

  Chapter Thirty-Seven: Izza Zan Fey

  “Yes! Yes! Oh, sweet love, yes!”

  Izza took her hands off the flight controls and laced them behind her head, settling back with her feet on the flight console. Reveling in smug, she gave a squeal of joy as her ship barreled through the debris cloud of her vanquished foe.

  It was a moment of purest beauty, and hard won, too. She’d spent most of the morning learning the weaknesses of Baron Hardpoint’s battle cruiser.

  Now he was space dust, and the planet below unguarded. Specifically, Prince Jaishai and Princess Lush locked away in Hardpoint’s dungeons. Booty ripe for the plundering. They would both be extremely grateful, shoo-ins for her burgeoning harem.

  Izza laughed. A real-life harem would be just the ticket to keep her spicy before Fitz came to her tonight, but how would she fit all those beautiful people onto Phantom? It wasn’t the kind of practical detail that troubled the designers of Galactic Shenanigans: The Game of Space Lust.

  This game had it all. Lust for battle, lust for treasure…and the lust for seduction.

  She was playing a Human male dressed like Fitz, and his likeness was surprisingly realistic in the cutscenes. The scenes contained t
he kind of details the designers had worked on to their utmost ability. They were pretty damned hot. Worth repeated viewings.

  The two young royals she was about to rescue were Zhoogenes. She decided her character would enjoy Princess Lush first. It was a shame you couldn’t visit both at once. Maybe with all this money Khallini had paid them, she could fund a personal update?

  A comm ping scythed through her dreamy reverie.

  She cursed in her native Zhoogene dialect before switching to the Terran Standard Phantom’s voice controls were optimized for.

  “Please, anyone but you,” she grumbled when she saw the caller ID. She paused the game. Phantom’s controls automatically came out of mute mode and revealed themselves. The cockpit became transparent, showing the oil-stained under-dock.

  “Put her on,” she instructed the comm interface. The cockpit darkened once more to protect her privacy. The holo-projector that should be getting ready to deal primetime raunch adventure with Princess Lush instead showed a mature Human.

  “Hello, mother-in-law.”

  “Good day, Zan Fey. I trust…Oh! You’re in full bloom.”

  “Damned right. I’m horny as hell and confined to an empty ship in case my crew and marines are caught in the riptide of my sexual currents.”

  “Time alone, dear. Peace and quiet. Sounds adorable. But you aren’t totally alone. Surely my son hasn’t abandoned you again?”

  “Fitz will be back tonight, if he knows what’s good for him.”

  “But you’re alone now?”

  Izza paused, the heady good cheer of her season wiped away by suspicion. “Why?”

  “You and I need to talk. Alone. Face to face. Sounds like you could do with some company.”

  She wanted to say no, but the last time they’d met they’d…maybe bonded was putting it too strongly, but they’d exchanged some mutual respect, which had been a first. Maybe not something to throw away so readily.

  “Very well. I’m quarantined, though. You’ll have to arrive in a spacesuit.”

  “I will do no such thing. I’m not a space vagrant. I’m a respectable woman, Del-Saisha Zan Fey.”

  “Don’t pull that Guild shite with me. You’re not in the Guild anymore, and the suit is so you aren’t driven wild by my pheromones. If you rip off your clothes and rub yourself against my head growth, I’m going to have a hard time explaining it to Fitzy. So save us both the trouble and wear a suit.”

  “Skin absorption is minimal.”

  “But not negligible.”

  “Nonetheless, a breathing mask will be perfectly adequate.”

  “Fine, but if you start acting frisky, I’m kicking you off the ship, and I will not be gentle.”

  “You will treat me with more respect, Del-Saisha.”

  “Like hell I will.”

  “For a start, you can address me as Nyluga Zi’Alfu.”

  “What?”

  “If you want proof, we can touch Guild tokens when I arrive. I’ve been reinstated as a Nyluga.”

  Reinstated? That’s unprecedented. “Was that Ree’s doing?”

  The Guild boss sniffed haughtily. “Ree had a hand in it, dear. She has an exceptionally powerful backer. As do I. Now stop wasting time and let me aboard.”

  * * *

  Izza offered Zi’Alfu one of Fitzy’s best cigars. The idiot woman had removed her air helmet the moment she’d taken a seat in the lounge, just as Izza expected.

  Instead of being angry, Izza had decided to be smart and let her go unprotected without too much fuss. Her mother-in-law normally had an impenetrable poker face, but with the ship air thick with pheromones, it was slipping.

  While Zi’Alfu unsealed the cigar, Izza seized her moment. “I take it Lord Khallini is also on JSHC.”

  Zi’Alfu glanced away, only momentarily, but she knew she’d been caught and scrunched her face in fury.

  “Hah. You should have worn a mask like I told you.”

  “Very clever, daughter-in-law.” Zi’Alfu grinned. “Or am I playing you?”

  Izza gave a small bow of respect. “Nice recovery, but not good enough for me.”

  “Oh, sod it. Damn you, Zhoogene.” Zi’Alfu closed her eyes and allowed anger to boil across her face. Then the moment passed, and she was once again calm and assured. “Perhaps this is for the best, dear. It lets me save time and confusion and speak more truthfully. Whether Lord Khallini is here, I don’t know, but I’m here as part of Khallini’s plan. If he’s not here himself, he’ll join us soon. That man is dangerous, ambitious, and connected like you wouldn’t believe. He possesses an intellect that’s off the charts and much knowledge that has been forgotten or has never before been discovered. He’s also an idiot, and despite all that’s so exceptional about him, he is, at his core, only a man.”

  She gave Izza an apologetic smile. “Remind you of anyone else we both know well?”

  “My Fitz is not an idiot.”

  “My apologies. Let me deescalate my phrasing. Just as Khallini’s intelligence isn’t underpinned by a strong foundation of wisdom, my son possesses great cunning that isn’t balanced by common sense.” She gestured toward Izza. “You’re a perfect example of his folly, my dear.”

  Izza felt anger welling up from her scent glands and exuding through her skin. It was strong enough for Zi’Alfu to choke.

  Serves you right.

  “Fitz stole you from Nyluga Ree,” Zi’Alfu said between coughs. “Stole one of Ree’s favorites, and…and her best ship at the same time.”

  “Fitz won Phantom fair and square in a game of chance, and he won my heart the first time we met.”

  The Human put one hand to her throat and waved the other in the air. “You’re my way forward, Izza.” She took a deep breath. A change came over her, a calm before the maelstrom as she stopped fighting the pheromones and yielded to their signals.

  “Put on the damned helmet.”

  “I’m a mature woman in control of all aspects of my body. I don’t need assistance.”

  “What will Fitz say if you start pawing his wife?”

  “Like I said, Khallini is a man. He needs a woman to lead him to wisdom. But that’s not my role, Izza, nor any mortal’s. An immortal man must be guided by an immortal woman, don’t you think?”

  “Stupid old woman!” Izza pushed the bubble helmet onto Zi’Alfu’s head and switched on the clean air supply. “Get out!”

  “Zan Fey, we must coordinate our respective immortals so their paths meet. Consider what I’ve said.”

  “I have. I am. Get off my ship, Nyluga. Shower. Return in an hour with your helmet. Then we shall scheme.”

  * * * * *

  Chapter Thirty-Eight: Enthree

  The air flowing through the conduit carried a damp heat with a tangy payload of organic compounds.

  Before the transit system had been built, this had been a main thoroughfare. It remained an underappreciated fighter in the station’s constant war to control the runaway accumulation of heat. Enthree hung from the heat exchangers in the overhead that captured warmth from the inner station and pumped it to the recycling and radiation units in the outer hull.

  Compartments and passageways in an orbital station often performed multiple functions like this, real estate being limited in the vacuum of space.

  These days this place was a dusty haunt of outlaws, junkies, and the mammal cousins of the Humans that were just as successful a species in their own way—rats.

  A patrol of six rats had inspected her 10 minutes ago, standing on their hind legs while they sniffed her from the bottom of the shaft. The low gee this close to the station’s axis of rotation allowed them to stand for extended periods. Their quivering whiskers revolted her. She wasn’t the only Muryani on the station, but she was probably the first these little creatures had experienced.

  The rats had made a mad dash across the danger zone beneath her and hurried on their way to whatever rat mission awaited them on the far side.

  The next scent to reach her wasn’
t mammalian. It was one of her kind, but not the person she was expecting.

  “Well met, Ndemo-327-Cerulian.”

  Enthree considered the Muryani who followed those words into view. It was a large individual, which probably indicated an age deep into maturity, although there were other ways a Muryani could be enlarged.

  It halted before her, planting its limbs atop the pipes in a posture of almost regal arrogance. Before such dominance, Enthree would once have lowered her head in submission and not raised it until permission had been given, but that had been before she’d learned much wisdom from her Human mentors, Vetch and Lily.

  “Did you not hear me?” the stranger snapped. “Well met, Ndemo-327-Cerulian.”

  “I heard,” Enthree answered. “Who the fuck are you?”

  The stranger’s limbs locked rigid, then loosened. “Your previous handler warned me of this. Under the circumstances, I suppose your degeneracy is a blessing. My name is Kwaiyad-18-Azure. I shall receive your tithe duties from now on.”

  “Under what authority?”

  Kwaiyad-18-Azure proffered a speckled ovoid, a memory pearl.

  Anything could be written in there. Classified mission objectives, secret information unknown to the principal Federation races, bad poetry, mathematical puzzles for juniors, a mind virus. It could be an empty pearl smeared in poison to which this individual claiming to be from a Kwaiyad batch had the only antidote.

  Enthree cursed herself for her procrastination. The turn of events was disappointing, but not unexpected.

  She placed the orb beneath her tongue and pushed down until her throat patch opened like a recessed landing pad, and she began to absorb the memory.

  The essence of Uhurek-127-Amethyst was released with the initial burst. It had been recorded by the handler she’d known since leaving home. She could tell Uhurek hadn’t been under duress when they’d made this pearl.

  “I am sorry, Ndemo,” she heard in Uhurek’s own voice. “Do what they tell you. Do not fight them.”