by Skyler Grant
Another shot sent a shock up his hands on the controls. It must have hit one of the energy regulators. He couldn't put it off anymore. "Dance party," Quinn said, and smashed a button on the console.
Aboard the station the signal was received and the commands Mara had planted in their mainframe executed. Things like weapons controls were shut down. Audio and lighting systems—that was another matter.
Aboard every enemy vessel in the sky music began to pump at maximum volume and the lights began to blink in time. It was the sort of practical joke you played on novice pilots, but in a combat situation it wasn’t funny. Everyone was distracted and badly disoriented.
With a shimmer the Centauri Bliss blinked into existence, right beneath the nose of the cruiser. With a series of deft maneuvers Quinn swerved the Whiskey to blast out three energy rounds at the most dangerous ships pursuing him before he hit the engines hard. Speed was of the essence. If they were professionals the enemy pilots wouldn't be distracted long.
A swift burn of the thrusters brought the Whiskey to a shuddering halt on top of the hull of the Centauri Bliss. No proper docking, there wasn't time for that.
"Down," Quinn called.
Quinn could see the guns of the cruiser turning to face this new target, but before they could fire reality tore itself apart.
Quinn was a crime lord, a respected one. His career in the Marshalls had turned into this, corruption leading to yet more corruption until finally he'd made a life of it. Gambling, smuggling, a thriving black market. Ice at his side, three daughters, she adored them.
Reality flashed back, the what-might-have-been crumbling around him. They were in orbit around Hope's Reach. Quinn threw up, everybody threw up. This had been a test of Jinx's ability to control the sphere, to see if it came easier to her this time, and if she could do it on demand when it counted. Dela had a spare set of jump coordinates filed, just in case.
After landing Quinn gave everyone an hour to get cleaned up and a fresh change of clothes before calling a meeting.
With everyone gathered around the table Quinn stood up.
"I'll start us off. We're here so Mara can tell us all what she found and we can decide what to do about it. But before I begin, I wanted to explain what happened back there. You all remember Maiden? She hired us to deliver a load of stasis pods filled with girls, another client who lied to us, and one who now has a hundred thousand bounty on my head."
Mara shrugged. "A problem that you have because you did me and my sisters a good turn. Yes, you were paid for it, but we are aware of what you did. We will clean this up."
"That deal probably saved my life. I'm grateful. If I can assist, let me know," Tamara said.
"So what did you find?" Mara said.
"The Black Fist barely exists as a mercenary company. Founded immediately after the Emperor's death their first, and only real, assignment has been the interdiction and invasion of Hope's Reach," Mara said.
"A front," Tamara said curiously.
"While they are nominally working for the Consortium, it is deceptive. They've offered to help secure a colony and allow the Consortium to claim the credit on the agreement that the colony afterward will not rejoin the Imperium," Mara said.
"The Consortium puts their name on it at little real risk, given nobody seems to care, in return for the guarantee of weakening an enemy fractionally. Smart," Jinx said.
"Furthermore, the Black Fist were to network and establish themselves with pilots for a possible future, large-scale recruiting effort with the potential for conflict," Mara said.
"For the ships we found in system? I suppose with a reliable slip drive she could have gotten pilots to them and some of them were equipped," Quinn said.
"Or she really did think she might discover Ilinar or Mahara, and they'd be able to restore the Runestones, exactly as happened," Mara said.
"Is it enough?" Quinn asked. “To bring her down?”
"It’s a major play to rob the Imperium of a colony and establish a significant military advantage over her family rivals. I can work with that, if we can document everything," Tamara said.
"We have the proof," Mara said.
"So what do we do with it? There isn't a court of law we can take it to. Forward it to her rivals?" Quinn asked.
"In a way, hitting people with the truth is a lot like hitting them with a con. It’s best if you can do it quickly and before they can start thinking of reasons to doubt it," Tamara said.
"Call for a meeting of the Family Council and the Imperium?" Taki asked.
"They'd never give us one. We aren't nearly important enough. However, the heads of the various factions meet once every three months to discuss matters of mutual interest. The next is coming up in a week," Tamara said.
"Well, that’s an opportunity. High security?" Quinn asked.
"The highest. They meet aboard an artificial moon orbiting the second planet, built by one of the original founders of Arkstone and considered neutral territory. A luxury resort most of the time, for the purpose of this meeting it’s reserved for the event and no one else," Tamara said.
"There will be lots of tourist photos. I can use them to build us up-to-date schematics," Taki said.
"There will be sensors everywhere—the best. A meeting like this is the opportunity to wipe out everyone’s rivals at once," Mara said.
"So no stealth suit for you," Quinn said.
Tamara said, "Not to break in. Once in, she may be able to use it. The wealthy and the powerful are not fond of being spied on. Monitoring inside the security perimeter is likely to be slight."
"Even if we get in front of this meeting, can we get them to listen to us instead of shooting us?" Quinn asked.
"I could probably manage it. I'm very good, but there is one among us who is absolutely going to be able to pull it off," Tamara said and directed her gaze over to Jinx who groaned and held up her hand, the rune upon it glimmering.
"I'm getting to hate this thing," Jinx said.
"Jinx is the person I least want in the line of fire," Quinn said.
"Quinn, maybe this is ship business and your call, but she's right. This mark doesn't just scream that I'm nobility, but that there is something unique going on," Jinx said.
"More than that. A mana scan on you is going to register highly now that your power capacity got quite the boost," Mara said.
"We treat this like a heist then, in reverse. Our goal is to get Jinx intact and unharmed in front of that meeting. Taki, get us those schematics. Everyone else, gather what information you can and we'll put together a plan," Quinn said.
Even in the old days with Kat and Ice, this ship had never tried anything that bold. However, Quinn had to admit the ship had never had this much talent. And even in the glory days they'd never worked together this well. If anyone could do it, they could.
33
"Got a moment?" Jinx asked, poking her head into Quinn's study. It had been three days, enough time for them to put together the fundamentals of a plan.
"Come in," Quinn said, "Have a seat. Can I get you something? Water? Tea?"
"I don't need coddling. Yet," Jinx said with a grumble as she walked in and sprawled out in a chair. A tee, shorts, and barefoot, she was about as casual as could be. She usually was.
"Freaking out?" Quinn asked.
"Over what? Standing before a council of criminals and an Imperium Duchess? It kind of seems less a big deal than everything else that has gone on lately. Honestly," Jinx said, staring down at the floor for a moment before looking up to meet Quinn's eyes. "How do you do it? Handle everything?"
"Guess that depends on what part of everything we're talking about."
"Running this ship. You're the last word, although I see you listen to advice a lot, but that last call is always yours. And no offense, but a lot of your crew are smarter than you are," Jinx said.
Quinn grunted, "Don't I know it. Tamara is brilliant and as far as I can tell Mara is her match. You and Dela are both a lot more e
ducated, if a little green. Taki is a brilliant tactician even if she can play it too cautious."
"Is that how you do it then? Remember everybody's weakness too?"
"If you're looking for a special formula, I wish I had one. It’s my ship, and right or wrong I make the decisions because I'm the one that has to," Quinn said.
"I guess a vote might work sometimes, but not in an emergency," Jinx said.
"You've seen Tamara and me both try to respect each other’s boundaries. I had my doubts when she wanted to take the family side of things, but it has been the right call. A lot there I didn't need on my plate and she does it well."
"Do you know, before all this happened, my big thing was looking forward to field study? Going off to some alien planet and just observing and trying to fit in," Jinx said, as she closed her eyes and rolled her head back. "Those dreams are dead now. Aren't they?"
There was sadness in that question, and vulnerability.
"I don't see how you get back from here to there. We could run, run as fast and as far as we could, and try to start new lives, but it was trying that which brought us here," Quinn said.
"Here to where I killed a man. And it wasn't ... it wasn't in the heat of the moment. I thought about the weapon, I reached down, reformed your gun. I aimed it, I turned down help, I pulled the trigger. I'm a killer." Jinx opened her eyes and looked down at her hand and the glowing rune upon it. "And I got this. It might not be blood, but I wish it were—for this will never wash off."
"You're a killer," Quinn agreed, there just wasn't any softening that point. "But if you hadn't done it, I'd be dead, and Kara, and that whole colony of decent people."
"My people. A baby on the way, and now them. A part of me wants to blame Tamara for it all, but I don't think I can. I know she wanted it and I know she schemes, but she's being swept along by the same tide as the rest of us, isn't she?"
Quinn hadn't thought about it like that, not really, although he was all about blaming Tamara. He might respect her, and if he was honest about himself he was coming to love her, but thinking of her as a victim of fate never really occurred to him.
"You tell me. If there is a tide sweeping us along and it isn't of Tamara's making, then it’s magic, right?" Quinn asked.
Jinx rose to her feet, moving over to the small bunk that occupied one wall and settling down. She patted the blanket beside her. "Come over, I could use the snuggles now. Magic is doing something. I can feel it, but I don't know if it’s a plan. Not exactly. I think it wanted me and Ilinar to meet, I think it wanted one of us to die. I don't think it cared which."
Quinn moved over and Jinx leaned into him. He slid his arm around her and she was warm as she pushed herself close.
"I'm glad it chose you," Quinn said.
"Me too, but I'm still a murderer. You ever regret the lives you've taken?"
"They come at me weapon in hand, I've no regrets. Man intends me harm in the future, I've no regrets. But remember Nose? Man screwed us and I let him walk way because he disarmed and wasn't a threat to me and mine," Quinn said quietly. "Might not be much of a code, but it’s the line I draw that lets me sleep soundly at night. On the other side of it, I don't."
"I think that’s why you're a good man. You think about it, you think about your lines. Most people just go through lives assuming they'll know good from evil when they stumble across it, and when they do it," Jinx said.
"Jinx, I may not know what I am, but I don't think I'm that," Quinn said.
"I know," Jinx said. "That’s part of the reason why you are. I don't know how to be the things I need to be. Mother, thief, killer, these seem like things people need some training for."
"I'm fair sure people usually stumble their way into all three," Quinn said.
Jinx thought about that a moment and nodded. Pushing away from Quinn she pulled off the tee, breasts bouncing free from beneath the fabric.
"Serious talk turns you on?" Quinn said.
Jinx made a face. "No. But I just made a decision, an important one, I think. I'm going to be a good mother. A good thief. A good wife. I'm not just going to not be useless, I'm going to be decent."
"While I'm not going to complain, if you are taking your top off out of duty, I think you're off to the wrong start," Quinn said.
Jinx wriggled on the mattress, slipping out of her shorts as well and throwing them to the floor before she moved to straddle Quinn's hips, grinding down upon him.
Quinn could feel himself starting to respond and knew Jinx felt it too given the grin she gave him.
"It isn't that. If I'm the victim of my own story I'm never going to be its hero, not really. You're my husband, Quinn and instead of reminding myself how worse it could have been, it’s time to start thinking how lucky I am," Jinx said, as she reached down to open his pants, pulling his length free and impaling herself on it before beginning to rock.
Quinn agreed, really. After all, he'd been doing a lot of that lately, reminding himself that however he'd stumbled into this family, he was lucky to have it.
He wanted to lose himself completely in thoughts of Jinx, lose himself in the moment. He only wished Kat's picture didn't seem to stare at him from his desk, and that he believed Taki when she said Kat would have approved. He wasn't quite there, yet, but he was trying.
34
It was two days before the mission and stage one of their plan. They couldn't keep this one as simple as Quinn would have liked. The security was simply too tight and without any gaps to slip through. Instead they had to find gaps elsewhere, where security didn’t even exist.
That was what Quinn was about now, playing pilot for Mara in the Tango. The target was Calliope Station. The communications and operations hub for Calliope Security, which would be handling the bulk of security for the meeting.
During the meeting this station would be in a state of high alert, but for now traffic back and forth was heavy as preparations were being made—and this afforded an opportunity.
Sensors made regular sweeps of the space surrounding the station, powerful enough to detect even the Tango through the stealth fields if they got a direct line. There were ways around that, but the timing was uncomfortably tight. Currently the shuttle was magnetically clamped to the hull of the Daybreak, one of four cruisers providing station security. Resting in a valley between the third and fourth engines they were masked from the sensors. They'd jumped aboard when the cruiser cycled back in. Three ships were on duty at any point in time with one rotating out and replaced every twelve hours.
"Two minutes three seconds," Mara said.
"You don't have to keep reading out the time. It’s right there in front of me," Quinn said.
It was. The plan depended on the routes of the cruisers. It was regular and that regularity was the key.
"It helps me focus. It helps you focus. I'm reading off the numbers for us. One minute forty-four seconds," Mara said.
"You probably even have your own internal chronometer," Quinn said.
"I do. More precise than this one. One minute thirty-four seconds," Mara said.
"Favorite color," Quinn said.
"In the middle of an operation? Fine. Red, which I know is a little ironic. One minute twenty-six seconds," Mara said.
"If you don't stop counting I'm going to start flirting and then I'll really get distracted," Quinn said.
Mara gave him a flat look as if considering how sincere the threat might be and nodded. "You win, but please keep an eye on the clock."
"Nothing wrong with liking red, you know. Suits your hair, you look stunning in red. Murdering villainous magic sorts don't own a color," Quinn said.
"It never bothered me when they were firmly in history. Now that we met one out and walking around, I suddenly feel like a traitor for wearing it. You are watching the clock?" Mara asked.
Quinn was. It hit zero and he disengaged the magnetic clamps. The lightest taps of the thrusters was all he could chance without risking detection, Tango rolling free of th
e valley and into the shadow of another ship. This one was the Caspian, and as gently as possible Quinn set down between the engines and hit the clamps once more. Mara hit the clock. Seven minutes and ten seconds this time.
Moving from one ship to another, hiding in their shadows to switch from one to the other right beneath the station sensors. It was possible, but the margin of error was tiny.
"Why red hair? Seems like a poor choice for a spy and with your genetic control I figure that is a choice," Quinn said.
"It is," Mara admitted. "You might ask why pretty too. I'd blend in more if I weren't."
"So?" Quinn asked.
"Because I like it. Because I've always been able to get away with it," Mara said with a faint smile. "It isn't usually an issue, normally nobody is hunting me—hunting us."
"Can you still communicate with your sisters at all? I know your range was limited."
"I can, but not directly. It requires using secure means which keeps things ... more limited than I'm used to. Which is a shame. They love to gossip and they're all curious about all of you. Not many of us get married."
"Some do?" Quinn asked.
"None of us are prisoners for all we are ... dutiful. It's unusual for a partner to accept that we're going to place something else first, but it happens. I'm the first of my cluster though," Mara said.
"I still want to know more about who you are, some day," Quinn said.
"I know, lover, I suspect you will. But not today. I need to get ready." Mara left her seat. As usual she was in her stealth suit, although now she slid on a faceplate visor too, the same dull gray color as the rest of her suit, and she headed into the back of the shuttle.
Quinn was left to wait out the rest of the countdown alone, to when the clock blinked disengaging the clamps once more. This time was an even more difficult bit of piloting, winding the shuttle in between the tower stacks of the station’s communications array while keeping pace with the shadow of the ship.
