“How about your employer? Got a name?” Kel was terse. He was reaching his saturation point with this shell game of info.
“I work for Chen. But the one that bought the seat out from you was Stavros Kenner.”
The name hit Kel like a truck. His face went from stern and authoritative to injured. He looked down, casting stares to his left and right in an attempt to find the knife that had just stabbed him. He took a step back, finding the crate he had just kicked, and sitting heavily on it as though it were a universal anchor to keep him secure during a storm.
“Kenner was a young kid I groomed for lieutenant,” Kel said. “I loved that kid. I was grooming him for captain because one of my guys was going to retire soon. It doesn't make any sense. As a lieutenant, he can't buy into the big seats. Only captains can do that. I would have given that kid anything he asked for. Including my seat at the table.”
Cas looked suspicious. “If you were already grooming him for senior leadership, did someone convince him to take his shot early?”
“Don't know.” Kel said, his anger rising as he paced around the bay. “Let's go ask him!”
“Obviously, Chen is helping with the plan in the form of personnel and the swarm tech they provided the technician. Chen was her contact as well. Who else is helping with this?” Lasher seemed to be thinking along the same lines as Cas.
“The whole cartel went in on this,” the new chief said. “Some bought the trooper in the fort. Some gave the Hidek the weapons. Others infiltrated the monks. They each had their part to play on Kenner's order.”
Kel's pacing had gone from frantic to frenetic. “Why would the senior chairs listen to a kid with only a few years’ experience?”
“It would seem we have more questions than answers,” Cas interjected.
Lasher nodded to the new chief. “If there is anything else I need to know, now is the time. You still have that insult to pay for before we let you go. Otherwise, I give you to the cat for five minutes to see what he pries loose.”
The new chief seemed old and tired by this point. His fear was increasing for every question he couldn't answer. There was also the very real possibility that the cartel would finish him off for being the only survivor of the team. “As far as doing what we do, we are the biggest fish in the pond. That being said, I haven't ever seen the family spend money on an op like this. Ever. That swarm tech isn't cheap. Major credits had to be moved into the CORAL to get that from a major mercenary house. Rumors are they didn't even get it from the Core Worlds. They never export that stuff past the Outer Boundary. How it ended up here is beyond me. The families in the cartel were all set to work a plan with you to bring a major influx of cash and influence working with people off world, like the Syndicate. When you got pinched, Kenner showed up with the kind of money you were promising and more. All that cred is heavy and makes for a big splash, if you know what I mean. If you ask me, I think he's being funded by a major CORAL group.”
Lasher, Cas, and Kel walked over to one side of the cargo bay. Lasher tapped Doom-Snuggle on his way by to get his attention. The cat remoted into a private call on Lasher's cell-com, where he invited Kel, Kat, Cas, and Yu into the call.
“This leads back to Kabran City. Everyone here has a right to go their own way now that this is over. No one's forced to go from here. I have to continue on so I can find the people responsible for my mother's death. I also have a promise to keep to Kat.”
Kel put both hands in the air. “Hey!”
“My promise to you was for you to escape and find out how you got burned. Mission’s demolished. You don't have to see this through.”
“The Hells I do!” Kel shouted toward their prisoner. “They took my seat by a low blow, getting me pinched by the lancers. The only way they caught me was for someone to give me up. I want payback and rather than coat the streets in blood, I want to beat them at their own game. I'm in. Good luck ditching me!”
Lasher nodded. “Done. Yuzheff?”
The Tyth copilot, conspirator, and long-time friend sounded surprised when he came over the ship's speaker. “Um, didn't realize I was included. I also didn't know how much I missed this until now. I'm in.”
Kat came through the audio. “I'm in, at least until your promise to me is scratched off the ledger. Then we'll see where that takes us.”
Fluff came through next. “I go where he goes.”
Cas looked pensive as he stared at the assembled group. “What about me and the faux ranger?”
Lasher turned to regard the crew-less chief. “Oh don't worry, we didn't forget about you.”
Epilogue
Private Adona walked into the mesa to find Captain Gerard, Lance Sergeant Locke, and Force Commander Hylaeus standing in the antechamber that served to heal those close to the Surando. Doctor Heseth was overseeing the four pits, currently swimming with their special energized worms.
“Pardon me, sir.” Adona said, directing his comment to Captain Gerard. “Stalker element has someone on scope walking toward the mesa from three klicks out. Might be the monk that went missing with the security element.”
Captain Gerard stood with his arms folded, one of his hands pressed to his chin. “Castillo? Good. Send out a greeting element to confirm it's him. Then bring him to us.”
They all stood in rapt attention of the goings-on of the pits. The worms occasionally broke the surface of the soil, causing the three leaders to lean, crane their necks, or furrow their brows in hopes of getting a look at a cherished teammate healed and restored.
Heseth took notice of the interactions. “They are all doing well. But this process is not a sprint. It is a marathon that takes some time. Please. Make yourselves comfortable. We will take good care of them.”
Locke looked at Gerard. “You ever see anything like this?”
“Medi-gel chambers and nano-scrubbers. “Gerard said. “Nothing ever like this.”
Moments passed with the occasional writhing of the worms causing a stir of noise, which in turn started the whole interest dance in earnest again. A large worm crested the surface to steal the attention of the group. Chief Inspector Castillo snuck in behind everyone. “What are we looking at?”
Hylaeus was first to notice his condition. “Brother, you're hurt.”
He raised his good hand. “I'm stable for now. The armor took most of it, although I will need some medical attention soon.”
Heseth noticed his strained speech. “How about we entertain you now?” She directed him toward a chair brought by one of her apron clad assistants.
“This is a serious wound,” she said, examining the blaster burn. She changed to her native language, sounding full of consonant sounds and brief pauses. Someone brought over a pair of scissors and a kidney pan. She removed his bandages and SLAP patches to reveal the nasty burn. “You are enhanced. Why is your skin like this?”
The trio beneath the platform stared in interest at the monk. Cas explained much like a teacher giving a history lesson. “The members of my order are routinely called in to settle disputes. Sometimes things turn violent. In the early days of such missionary work, we had myo-fiber woven directly into the skin. Makes the skin tough, like armor. It hurt like Twin Hells going in, but we were glad to have it if things went badly. You don't see it much anymore.”
Heseth nodded and began to relay instructions to her two assistants. “We will have you transported to our hospital shortly.”
“This isn't the hospital?” Cas asked.
The doctor smiled and pointed upward, toward one of the many hanging structures in the mesa. Cas told her how impressed his was with their blending of the old and new world, which seemed to please Doctor Heseth as she went back to supervising the healing pods.
“Commander, might I have a word?” Cas asked.
Hylaeus strolled over to the wounded monk, kneeling in front of the chair. He was close, conscious of the two men behind him. “Took quite the beating out there.”
Cas agreed. “I'm getting to be a
bit old for this type of work.”
“Let me know when you're my age. What have you found?”
Cas centered himself in the Way now that the pain-relieving SLAP patches were gone. He felt every injury he'd suffered over the last few days, making him also feel every bit of his age. While the strength of the Crucible and working the Way kept one younger than most, a lifetime in service to the monastery had a tendency to put a lot of wear and tear on a person. “We were definitely betrayed. The source seems to come from within and out. The money funding this operation came from outside of Tythian. Insiders close to the cartels think it's CORAL money. My gut tells me it may also have been funneled to the Faith Revere.”
“Reasons for?” Hylaeus asked.
“The Faith Revere is careful to send out Vernai. Even more careful to send out a gauntlet of them. Some of the negotiators and Sister Leeuwen are confirmed members of the order. Berezin and the rangers do not appear on any rosters in either San Verone or the Elysian Military. And to have a team assembled before the actual event occurred. Very strange. We were infiltrated, subverted, and misdirected. That would have required a lot of money for just the right payments.”
Hylaeus seemed to contemplate what the monk had relayed. “What of Orin Lashra?”
“He is stronger than he should be. He is also unpredictable. Whatever started this didn't plan on him surviving first contact. He is a major stumbling block to their plan. He is going to have a target on his back from here on out.”
Hylaeus nodded. “I am moving assets into place now. We will be ready to aid him when the time comes.”
Cas looked concerned. “How are you moving lancer assets and marshals without Central Command knowing?”
“Who said I was moving lancers and marshals?” Hylaeus asked.
“Interesting.”
A trio of orderlies from the Surando walked into the conversation. Without speaking, the trio merely nodded, politely pushed through the commander, and collected the injured monk.
“Off topic. Who's in the pits?” Cas asked.
“Brand, D'Marco, Trask, and Frazier.” The force commander answered. “The worms are amazing. They'll be stabilized and off to Elysium for further medical care. Apparently, this is something they normally only allow to members of the tribe. Brand is going to be very upset that Lasher arranged this.”
Cas stared at the pit as he was led away. “Amazing is a good word for this. Imagine the medical applications of such a thing.”
“Yes. Someone could start a war over something like that,” the commander said somberly.
As Cas was carried off, Hylaeus called over, “Have you made arrangements for the woman you lost?”
“Already under way. Thank you.”
Hylaeus walked back to the company lancers. “Captain, any change?”
“Not in the last five minutes, sir.”
“I forgot to ask...” Hylaeus started.
Lance Sergeant Locke interjected, “With all due respect, Marshal. You strike me as a man who forgets nothing.”
“Perhaps,” the commander said, patting the lance sergeant on the shoulder before turning his attention to the Striker CO. “Captain, have you secured that asset for me?”
“We did, sir,” Gerard responded matter-of-factly.
“Excellent.” Hylaeus dipped his chin in the positive. Turning back to Lance Sergeant Locke, the commander reintroduced his question. “Lance Seargeant Lock?”
Apparently this question wasn't going away any time soon. “Yes, Force Commander.”
“Please tell me someone took that Thumper from that Devil Hunter private.”
“I'll have to check on that.”
“Twin Hells.”
The moon rose over the grasses, bathing everything in an incandescent blue light. The mountains were a stunning contrast to the steppe. They were green from a native pine, and frosted with the first snows of a high altitude autumn. Tucked into an alcove on one of the lower peaks, the assault shuttle sat as a camp site to the fugitives.
“True to my word, you're a free man. Good luck.” Lasher said, pointing toward the wilderness stretching down the mountain.
“I have no idea where I am or how to get back to Kabran City.” New Chief said.
“Not my problem. Go or be robo-cat chow.”
The new chief gave a grimaced sigh. Without another word, he loped out of sight through the trees. It was a few minutes before the snapping of sticks underfoot or misstep in the dark faded from earshot.
“You really going to let him go, Lasher?” Yuzheff asked as he passed by carrying a bundle of wood.
“No. These mountains are full of Kard wolves. They've been watching us for a while now.”
Yuzheff stopped. His mouth opened displaying a fear that Lasher hadn't realized the man possessed. “Shouldn't we...”
Lasher patted his shoulder. “The wolves and I have an understanding through the Way. But that running lunch counter hasn't made any such arrangement with them. If he should make it down the mountain, we can track him with the transmitter I put in his boot. Fluff can have his way with him after that.”
“That's mean.” Yu said.
“I said he could go free. I didn't say I wouldn't chase him.” Lasher said, offering to carry some of the bundle with his good hand. “Thank you for helping me put this wood together. It wasn't part of the plan, but it'll help me fulfill another promise.”
Yu shook his head, indicating he was all right with the sticks. He was as tall as Lasher, probably the only one on the ship who could talk to him eye to eye. He wore the trademark Tyth half grin when he asked, “Do you ever go back on your word?”
Lasher shook his head slightly. “Haven't yet.”
“You two are a lot alike.”
Almost on cue, Kel walked into the conversation carrying more wood. “You let that walking pile of Kard scat go?”
“I did. Hey, thanks for the help in getting this together.”
“Normally, manual labor is not my thing, but I was cooped up in that cell for a long time. Feels good to move a bit. Plus I can get my muscles back into punching shape.” Kel smirked with the thought of getting back to smacking people around.
“Right. Punching people is your thing.” Lasher remembered.
“People are squishy. They punch more easily than robots. You should stick to punching people.” He wagged his stick pile toward Lasher's broken hand.
“I'll keep that under advisement.”
Lasher walked into the shuttle, stopping just short of a covered body in the lounge. “Are you ready.”
Kat's dusky lounge singer voice came over the speakers. “I can't believe this is happening. I thought I would die in that cell.”
“Are you happy to be wrong?”
“I will be happy to move. To feel. To exist as more than a rotting piece of meat watching the sun rise and fall without so much as my name being spoken. It was brilliant to speak, but it was exhilarating to hear my name from someone other than myself.” Kat said.
“Thank you for my life, Katerina.”
“Likewise, Orin Lashra.”
“Doll?”
“Yes, Orin.”
“Please disconnect Kat from the system.”
There was a barely audible ping. Lasher lifted her frame from under the blanket. Hoisting her in his good arm, struggling here and there with the weight, he walked outside to more blankets lying on the ground. One was folded while the other was clearly covering another body.
He set Kat down in the grass and sparse snow. “Tell me what to do.”
Over the next several minutes, Lasher worked over the body. After considerable effort, he removed a large section, placing it on the ground beside Kat. He looked about at all the cables and corpses, wondering if he had gotten it right. “And this is all I have to do?”
“You have done more than I could have possibly hoped for. I'll take it from here. Cover me please.”
Lasher did as instructed and walked back to the interior of the
ship.
The sun rose over the peaks, highlighting a group of predatory birds hunting for their breakfast. Kel came down the ramp to find Lasher sitting, wrapped in a blanket. A white sheet covered something on the ground, like a flag that had fallen from its pole. “You okay?”
“Hand hurts. I took some pain meds and got some SLAP patches on it. At some point, I need to have it repaired.”
“Sounds like a solid plan.” Kel said. “Going back to feed the worms?”
Lasher shook his head. “No. I won't put them in danger again.”
“The people or the worms?” Kel said, rubbing his face. He'd found the force commander's grooming kit, giving himself a proper shave. He felt more himself with a clean beard.
Lasher looked back and shared a grin with his new companion. He liked having the gangster around. While he might be the very definition of the criminals he used to hunt, Kel Durado was also a reminder that they were people too, and not just targets.
Kel sat down next to him, watching the goings on outside the ship. “Lasher, that is some creepy stuff.”
“I don't think just any cyborg can hop bodies like this. I think our friend Katerina is more than we suspect.”
“How long has she been doing that?” Kel asked with a hint of amusement.
“Dancing in the light? Running and jumping and feeling the ice under her toes? Since the sun came up.”
Kel nodded. “She looks different.”
“Once she adjusted to her new body, recovery systems engaged and started repairing a lot of the damage we saw her wearing.” At the mention of damage, Lasher rerouted the sling to lessen the ache in his hand. Once he was more comfortable, he gestured to their very mobile friend. “Now she has fresh skin, a full head of hair, and an appetite.”
“Wait, do cyborgs...”
Orin laughed. “Yes, they eat. She cleaned out the stores of protein bars in minutes.”
Kel looked uncomfortable. “That's not what I was going to ask.”
She ran up and stopped at the bottom of the ramp. While she was wearing the metallic frame formerly occupied by Sister Leeuwen, Katerina was a stunning creature to behold. Rotting skin and wispy hair was replaced with high, rounded cheekbones, a pointed chin, and raven black hair done in a French braid. “It is a pleasure to meet you again, Kel Durado. Please call me Katerina. May I have this dance?”
The Mongrel: A Military Sci-Fi Series (Hunter's Moon Book 1) Page 31
