“Go skragg yourself. It’s a Littorane town in the middle of nowhere. No one bad will come here.”
“You need to be able to respond to anything in all environments. You never know what will happen next.”
Stryker at least had the grace not to answer back.
“Stick close so I can keep an eye on you,” Bronze told him. “Let’s check on the boss.”
They had to wait as a party of screaming Littoranes squeezed past. Bronze flicked on his radio. “Zavage, this is Bronze. You still sober?”
“Until someone relieves me, of course. Urdizine’s in recovery now. Medics say he’ll be conscious within thirty minutes. And after that… Well, let’s see. Am I missing anything?”
The Littorane revelers having passed by, they hurried along the corridor. “Let’s see. Sybutu’s sales pitch is going down well. I suspect he’s done more to keep Urdizine safe than any of us. Stryker…” Bronze growled as he opened the door to the main bar. “Stryker is wasted.”
“Yes,” said Zavage, “but am I missing anything?”
“What he’s referring to,” Stryker explained on the same channel, “is womenfolk. You old dogfish, Zavage. I’ve never met anyone like you. Any age past maturity. Any species… oh, except your own, of course, who scare the hell outta you. Any condition. It’s all the same to you so long as they’re female. Well, bad news for you, my friend. You’ll have to start being more open-minded. I’ve checked and there are only guys here.”
“Are you sure?” Zavage queried. Boy, did he sound disappointed. “Even the Littoranes?”
“Err…” Stryker shrugged. “Littoranes? I don’t know.”
“You see the one talking with Osu?” said Bronze. “Her nostrils have a crusty, sulfurous look. She’s female. And the one handing her a tankard? His has an umber sheen.”
“Hey, guys!” Zavage complained. “Not fair. I’m not seeing any of this.”
“Patience, my friend,” said Stryker, swaying as he scanned the room. “The boss will relieve you on Urdizine watch soon. I’m making a recount and you’re in luck. If you like girls with six legs, a four-foot long tail, and nostrils on top of their snouts, then there’s plenty of female company for you to enjoy. The real question, it seems to me, is why the hell they would have any interest in you.”
“Is that a challenge, human?”
“It is.”
The main door to the porchway opened, and Bronze watched out of the corner of his eye as two humanoids entered the bar.
Stryker stared.
“Well,” he said, “too bad you’re not here, Zavage. Just arrived – one Zhoogene male and a human female. Just taking off her hood. Let’s take a look at... hellfire!”
“What? What is it? Don’t do this to me. What’s she like?”
“Zavage,” Bronze said carefully. “She’s got a shifting tattoo over her face. A rose on each cheek weeping black blood.”
“Oh… her?” Zavage said, his voice trembling with anticipation.
Bronze shook his head in disbelief. What was he going to do with these amateurs?
And more immediately, they’d been discovered. What did Lily Hjon want with them? He checked for the poison blade secreted in his jerkin, a relic of the earliest Orion Era Marines. Whatever she wanted would not be good, but he was ready for her. Because regardless of the name he currently went by, he would always be Hines Zy Pel. And that meant he was ready for anything.
Bring it on…
NEXT ISSUE: The Thousand Sorrows.
ISSUE 5
OSU SYBUTU
“Who is she?” asked Kayshen-Oeyl.
“Who?” asked Osu.
“The woman human.”
“The which what?”
“A female of your species. She winked at you.”
“Did she?” Osu made a show of looking around the bar and suddenly noticing Hjon.
“May I ask you a personal question, Sybutu?”
“If you must.”
“Do you have a mate?”
“No.”
“I begin to perceive why. You need to be more observant, my friend.”
“Oh, but I am. Orbital-magnetic surveys. Diabase folding patterns. The latest portable ion exchangers. These are the kinds of things that attract my attention.”
“You are incorrigible, but I like you, Sybutu.” The Littorane reached over the table, drink in hand. They banged tankards together. “I will make the appropriate communications. It will take a day or so. Will you wait in the town?”
Osu was acutely conscious of the two Militia troopers circling his position. Hjon obviously had something she wanted to say to him. Too bad. He had no intention of hearing it.
The Littorane cleared her throat just as a human would. “Sybutu! If you could keep your mind on our business affairs for just a little longer…”
“Sorry. Yes, we’ll be here. If not me, then one of us. My boss – tough as an old bean he is – is a Zhoogene. Took some shrapnel when we were attacked by bandits and one of our party got killed. He’s not going anywhere–”
Suddenly, Lily Hjon was straddling his lap, wriggling and grinding. She threw her arms around his neck and hauled her lips up to his ear. “You do realize there’s a rebel battalion billeting here?”
Osu froze.
“Oh, yeah,” she continued cheerfully. “Ran into a Cora’s Hope staff team organizing accommodation. I don’t think Raemy-Ela is the best place for your wounded soldier, do you?”
“It’s too late,” he whispered back. “The medic operated on him an hour ago. He has to stay here for a few days.”
“Perhaps. You were very naughty running away like that, but now that we’re here to look after you, we could take your Zhoogene with us.”
Osu thought that through. The rebels he’d seen so far were from Cora’s World, probably the greatest stain on the Federation’s reputation. Settled by an intolerant political sect, after centuries in which all dissent had been purged – whether real or imagined – its leaders had turned on non-humans as the last bastions of offense against their purist orthodoxy. They been driven out. It was only the treaties signed with other worlds in the sector, guaranteeing passage and resettlement to the new refugees, that permitted most to escape with their lives.
It was the Militia – the likes of Arunsen, Yazzie, and the annoying tattooed woman in his lap – who were pledged to make such tragedies as Cora’s World impossible. Yet they had watched and done nothing.
At least that meant the soldiers of Cora’s World would treat all aliens of whatever species with equal contempt. When you know for a fact that all xenos are filthy aberrations, it’s hard to tell them apart.
The best strategy was to leave Urdizine here. To leave him alone so the rebels couldn’t connect the largely human party on bikes with the green alien in the hospital.
“What’s your problem?” Hjon teased. “World not moving along straight lines for you, dear?”
“Far from it.” He shoved her off his lap. “It’s very simple. I want nothing to do with you or your kind. Go away!”
She came from behind, pinning his upper arms against his sides and rested her chin on top of his head. “We’re friends now, Osu. Allies.”
“We’re neither. Take your hands off me. Just being within ten feet of you makes me want to burn all my clothing and spray myself with delousing agents.”
“Oww!” Her hands flinched as if burnt. “Such passion! Such heat!”
He got to his feet and saw that Bronze and Stryker were already squaring off against Hjon’s Zhoogene companion. “We can never work together,” Osu told her. “We’re not like you. We are proud…”
He bit his lip. Damn that woman. She had gotten under his skin. He’d almost said the word legionary in as public a place as possible.
“We are professionals,” he declared instead.
“Professional whats?” she said. “I’ll leave you to figure that out.”
She led the Zhoogene out of the bar.
; “She claims the rebels are already here,” Osu whispered to Bronze when the troopers had left. “I have to take that seriously. I’ll warn Zavage to keep out of sight, and you take this big lunk with you and follow Hjon. You got that, Stryker?”
The legionary squared his shoulders. “Yes…” The word ‘sergeant’ tottered on the tip of his tongue before emerging decisively as ‘boss’.
“On second thoughts,” Osu told him, “you stay here where I can keep an eye on you. Sit down and keep quiet!”
Osu began an apology to his Littorane contact as he took his seat, but the couch where she had been lying was empty.
“Did she buy your act, boss?” asked Stryker.
“I’m not sure.” He pulled at his chin. “I guess we’ll soon find out.”
BRONZE
Outside the Vengeance, the alien streets were deserted of humanoids. As for Littoranes? If you wallowed in the curbside pools, you would find plenty, but they weren’t Bronze’s quarry.
He rushed a short distance in the direction of the main street, but there was no sign of them.
He had the feeling he was being observed, and not just by the Littorane citizens.
Think! he urged himself as he retraced his steps up the side street, moving more slowly now.
The intel they’d picked up inside the Vengeance portrayed the Raemy-Ela area as an alliance of two clans. The Lael controlled the underground rivers, the lake and the forest, while the Tamxil were the town dwellers. There was plenty of fraternizing between the two groups, but from what he’d heard, most of it took place in the zone around the town proper, where the fancy heated roads turned into ice trails, and the buildings became simpler and lower. The hinterland wasn’t just where Lael fraternized with Tamxil but with outsiders too.
Other than any officers, he doubted any of the Militia soldiers would be wearing uniforms and insignia. They could easily pass for bandits, mercenaries, or the kind of scum who would seek out remote destinations to hole up, far from the prying eyes of the authorities.
And according to the drinkers in the Vengeance, such undesirables would naturally base themselves in a sprawling complex of fighting pits, taverns, stables and trading kiosks to the west of downtown. The place was known as the Thousand Sorrows.
He rolled his eyes. Littoranes had strange ideas about what sounded attractive.
No matter. Thousand Sorrows. It was the only lead he had, and he went all in. Picking up the pace, he walked up the pavement, turning left into the first cross street and then broke into a run.
The sappers thought his Spec Missions experience gave him almost magical powers of surveillance, killing, and persuasion. It was nonsense, of course. It was the quality of equipment that allowed SpecMish to do things regular folk thought impossible. Most of it had been secretly hoarded since the Orion Era, but not all. In any case, he was nearly out of gear liberated from his old role.
He whistled cheerfully. Sometimes, all you need is legwork.
Bronze looped around the streets, thanking the town planners for the heated pavements that made this possible at a run, and came back in the direction of the main street, farther to the west than his starting point. In the last few hundred yards, he slowed, and then concealed his advance, using doorways and the wooden archways that crossed over the street.
Still got it, he thought to himself. From behind the cover of a dumpster, he watched Hjon and the Zhoogene pass in front of him, heading west out of town.
Bronze waited in the shadows, grinning when the two troopers looked behind to check if anyone was following.
You’re looking the wrong way, skraggs.
His quarry stepped up the pace. Only a fraction, but Bronze noticed it. Had they seen him? Impossible.
But their wariness was a problem, because they were almost at the edge of town. Beyond, the wind was whipping up a mist of snow. If they made it that far, his best bet was to make his way directly to the Thousand Sorrows, rather than try to follow through the whiteout.
Movement!
He’d spotted something in his peripheral vision. Turning his head ever so slowly, he brought two humanoid figures into view. They were edging their way along the main street, after Hjon and the Zhoogene, hugging the archways as he had done. These were Cora’s World soldiers. Rebels.
Hjon turned suddenly and stared behind.
The rebels froze, hugging cover.
Not bad, Bronze thought. Probably scouts like the one I pulled out of the hover carrier. The rebels were carrying Levinger L6 “Atrox” blasters, good weapons that had the accuracy and range to waste the two Militia troopers before they could escape into the snow cloud.
Hjon and the Zhoogene broke into a run.
At first, the rebels didn’t move, but Bronze did. He took advantage of the rebels’ focus on the Militia to creep closer.
Hjon stopped and turned again. She was checking whether she had flushed out any pursuers by her apparent flight. The rebels hadn’t fallen for that trick; they waited for the troopers to walk on before they resumed their pursuit.
By then, Bronze was in position. He tossed his last two EMP grenades high into the air. They arced over the rebels’ heads, managed to miss the wooden archways and landed just the near side of the road’s center line.
The grenades were un-primed, but the sound of their impact got the rebels’ full attention. They snapped their heads around and looked in horror at the two cylinders rolling down the cambered road toward them.
The scouts knew what they were, all right.
They ran and dove for the ground, splashing into a curbside pool.
By then, Bronze was ready for them. He slashed with his Orion Marine blade, slicing the twin crescent tips through the spine of one. Without waiting to see the result, he immediately rolled over the wet streaming road to the other, ducking beneath a blaster bolt and lashing out with his knife hand to stab the other rebel in the throat.
He heard Littorane shouts in the distance, but he didn’t have time to see where they came from.
The first rebel was thrashing in a pool of water already turning red. The other had dropped his rifle, both hands clutched at his ruined throat.
Bronze gave them both a merciful end. Methodically but quickly, he disarmed the rifles, wrapped their straps around the rebels’ necks. Then he dragged their bodies by their collars over to the dumpster.
He picked them up and threw them inside, taking care not to allow blood to drip onto the sidewalk.
On the road, the stream of bloody water was already draining away in the self-washing streets.
Bronze hurried back to the main street to find the troopers gone, disappeared into the cloud of white.
Littorane shouts to halt came from the main street to the east. Bronze pretended not to understand and vanished into the side streets.
They pursued him, of course, but there was only one person Bronze had ever failed to hide from.
Her name had been Sarah.
She was dead now.
But still he couldn’t hide from her.
NDEMO-327-CERULIAN
Enthree unbuttoned the underside of her shirt to better hear the happy sounds of her friends, comrades, and objects of observation. Lacking any specialist auditory organs, the Muryani trooper instead constructed a soundscape through hairs all over her body. With the extreme cold of the Great Ice Plain requiring thickly padded clothing, she’d been practically deaf since they’d left Fort Iceni.
“I never thought I’d miss them.”
The speaker, Meatbolt, was sitting beside her. Now that she had uncovered her listening hairs, she heard his words with enhanced fidelity. Unfortunately, it also meant the sickness of his scent also assaulted her with enhanced clarity.
The scene at the bar should be joyous. Outwardly, it was. But the trooper known variously to her Raven Company comrades as Enthree, the Praying Mantis, or the Big Hairy Bug lacked the ability of the humans and near-humans to carouse at an instant’s notice.
The team ha
d a mission and it was an important one. She couldn’t ignore that, but she didn’t understand the attitude of her humanoid comrades as they had settled into their accommodation at the wonderfully named Thousand Sorrows on the outskirts of Raemy-Ela. They acted as if they were celebrating the end of the mission when it had barely begun.
Humans!
She didn’t understand them but learning to do so was her job: the mission her Expansion handler had initially given her, and still her duty. She was here to learn of the humans and report back.
Her task had seemed innocent enough, until her handler had learned of her posting to Rho-Torkis. After that, everything changed. They didn’t tell her much, of course, but she suspected the Expansion saw her as their most important asset in the whole of the buffer state the humans called the Far Reach Federation.
She was more than an observer of the humanoids: she was also their friend. Enthree worried about them.
The new officer, Lieutenant Shen, acted as if in leading the detachment to the Thousand Sorrows his job was done. Kulm, his predecessor, had been a most rude individual, but at least he had been a professional soldier. Enthree had taken it as a personal affront that Lieutenant Kulm had groveled to his new commanders since the day they had landed on Rho-Torkis, begging to be transferred away from Raven Company.
His replacement was next door in a private reserved room, enjoying a hearty meal. Shen appeared content that Hjon and Sward were scouting downtown in search of the legionaries, and the others were doing as they pleased in the public bar, acting the part of traders, or whatever they were supposed to be. Shen hadn’t been clear on that point.
It had fallen to Arunsen to post Rynter and Deep Tone outside as guards, and send Green Fish to the stables to watch their equipment and Saruswine mounts. In the bar, that left Darant reading his book, Vetch a brooding presence contemplating a tankard on his own table, and Enthree to keep Meatbolt under observation in his dying days.
On reflection, she realized this was not a full celebratory party, but it still felt uncomfortably inappropriate to give the appearance of relaxation. If this were an Expansion expedition, Muryani Marines would have already sealed off the town and would be flushing out their legionary quarry. Not sitting in a bar drinking ale and awaiting hot pies.
Chimera Company - Rho-Torkis Box Set Page 18