Deathangel

by Kevin Ikenberry

  * * * * *

  Chapter Eleven

  Victory Twelve

  Hyperspace

  167.45 Hours Remaining to Victoria System

  Something hadn’t felt right in the central junction. Tara couldn’t explain it, but she’d hesitated in the passageway long enough to know that she needed to listen to her gut. Five seconds after her pause, Lucille sounded.

  <>

  “Alert the crew. Have them ready up.” Tara reached down for the trusty .40 caliber pistol in the holster on her right thigh. She hadn’t taken it off and secured it in the weapons locker, because she wanted to monitor the ascent and hyperspace transition. Moving to the bay to secure the weapon had seemed like a waste of time. In reality, she’d been lazy, but at the moment, her decision seemed prescient. Almost psychic.

  Climbing up from the half-gee of gravity in the bay, Tara went faster as the centripetal force’s grasp lessened. Halfway up the ladder, she let go and propelled herself upward with carefully timed pushes. Tara drew the pistol, quietly racked the action, and leveled it into the central junction. At the entrance hatch, she stopped her momentum with a hand on the ladder and took cover behind the hatch cover.

  <>

  Tara disengaged Lucille’s feed. With any luck, the crew would respond and supply the necessary firepower to stop whoever or whatever was there. Spacing wasn’t an option. The maintenance airlock had to be manned when used; there was no autonomous control for the hatch.

  Settled against the wall, Tara peered around the junction, into the lower hatch assembly. She saw movement in one of the large tan bags loaded behind the cargo netting at Araf. It was supposed to contain tools and replacement parts. Tara frowned, then froze as a large, hairy arm reached out of the bag and…stretched. The arm was drawn back into the bag, then a large foot poked through the opening, followed by a second. She recognized it as that of a TriRusk, but clearly remembered walking Kurrang to the hatch of his ship before the hyperspace transition.

  With a soft push, Tara moved forward and pointed the pistol at the TriRusk’s back. As she closed the distance, the TriRusk’s head poked out. The large alien was smaller than she expected. Much smaller than Kurrang. Tara jabbed her pistol into the soft flesh behind the alien’s curved skull plate.

  “Who are you and what the fuck are you doing on my ship?”

  The TriRusk froze. “Please, do not shoot me, Commander Mason.”

  Tara kept the pistol lodged in the TriRusk’s neck. “Start talking, and I won’t have to.”

  The alien nodded its massive head once. “It’s me. Maarg.”

  Tara blinked. Kurrang’s daughter?

  “How did you get aboard Victory Twelve? You should still be on Weqq.”

  Maarg chuckled. The resulting sound was like a distant thunderstorm rumbling. “My father had other plans. Please, you can put your weapon away. I am here as a friend.”

  Tara moved the pistol away from Maarg’s head and let the alien turn around. As soon as she saw the expressive, young eyes of the TriRusk, she had no doubt it truly was Maarg. The young TriRusk smiled, albeit sheepishly. Tara’s mind worked quickly. There was only one possible answer. “Your father put you up to this.”

  Maarg shook her head. “No. I came up with this. My father simply agreed. Things on Weqq are likely to deteriorate unless the Peacemaker Council moves away. My father believed I would be safest among friends. I apologize for stowing away, but father said it was the best way to get me safely aboard. The fewer who know about TriRusk children, the better.”

  Tara nodded. A small percentage of TriRusks experienced a form of albinism from birth to roughly the equivalent of an Earth child’s age twelve. Given the TriRusks’ lifespan, it could last for more than twenty-five equivalent years. There was nothing life-threatening about the condition except for an intense sensitivity to light. But it had a most interesting side-effect, with galactic implications. Afflicted TriRusks produced synthetic diamonds in their manure. Usually, the quantities were small, but the stones were exceedingly pure and could be used for hundreds of applications. At least one major conflict, the Flesset War, had been fought over them. For both the TriRusk and the Veetanho, it was a most deadly affair.

  “What am I supposed to do with you?” Tara asked.

  Maarg smiled. “I am here to help you find Snowman. I am also here with data the Peacemaker Guild did not want you to have. I have the full log access for Lucille’s actions at Weqq. There are some data packets from Intergalactic Haulers we can study. Perhaps even find a lead.”

  “You’re just a kid,” Tara replied and immediately regretted it. “I don’t mean it in a bad way, Maarg. But what can you bring to the team? Right now, I can say you have diamonds in you, but beyond that, I don’t know what you can do.”

  “I am handy in a fight, Tara,” Maarg replied. Her eyes flickered over Tara’s right shoulder.

  Tara turned and saw Bukk and Vannix scampering down the airlock walls. She quickly holstered her pistol, and the two aliens slowed their approach. “She’s a friend.”

  “She is more than that,” Bukk replied. “I am most pleased to see you again, Maarg. I suspect this is not an accident?”

  The TriRusk shook her head and smiled, but Tara noticed she was distracted. The TriRusk’s eyes locked onto the Veetanho behind Tara.

  “Maarg, this is Peacemaker Vannix,” Tara introduced. “Vannix? This is Maarg. She is Captain Kurrang’s daughter.”

  Vannix put away her weapon and nodded, her dark eyes twinkling. “Well met, Maarg.”

  “Well met,” Maarg replied. Her voice was soft and her countenance serious. Tara knew what that meant, and she knew it could be trouble if not dealt with quickly. Jessica had taught her that.

  “Maarg?” Tara asked. When the TriRusk turned to look at her, she continued, “if you’re going to be a member of Force 25, you have to understand and accept what the team is. We are not going to fight a three-hundred-year-old war on this ship. Vannix is a Veetanho and you are a TriRusk. I understand there is bad blood between your species. That doesn’t apply on this ship.”

  “Bad blood?” Vannix asked. “Is that another Human expression?”

  “Yes.” Tara nodded. “It’s pretty apt for the moment. If you want to help us, Maarg—if you want to be a member of Force 25—you’re going to have to work with Peacemaker Vannix. You’re going to have to work with Bukk. You’ll even have to work with Peacemaker Rains and Xander Alison. Whoever joins us is part of the team, first and foremost. Everything else stays off this ship and out of our mission. Is that clear?”

  Maarg looked at Vannix, then back at Tara. “What you ask is not impossible, Tara. But I will have trouble doing so. Her kind nearly killed all of mine.”

  “We know we were wrong,” Vannix replied. “At least those of us with a conscience, who recognize the galaxy is made stronger by the sum of its parts.”

  Tara nodded. “The ones who don’t think that way, the ones who would punish the Humans the way the TriRusk were punished, are our enemies. But we have a different mission than our allies, Maarg. We have to find James Francis before our enemies do.”

  Maarg said nothing for a moment, instead moving her lower jaw much like a cow chewing cud. It was all Tara could do to avoid laughing. She’d never really leave farm life behind.

  “Maarg?” Vannix asked. The Veetanho came forward and hung in the space next to Tara’s right shoulder. She extended her paw toward the TriRusk. “Your father has told you about the Peacemaker Guild, yes?”

  “He has.” Maarg stared at the outstretched paw, not at the Peacemaker’s face.

  “When a Peacemaker goes on their confirmation mission, they go with an iridium badge. It’s designed to clearly show the people we carry the authority of the Peacemaker Guild but are not fully qualified. It is meant to honor the guild and the candidate as a matter of trust. There are many who
never pin on the platinum badge of the Peacemaker. But that iridium badge, for what I guess you would call cadets, has a special meaning to us. It represents the trust placed in us by the Guild. When we commission as Peacemakers, that iridium badge is exchanged for something equally valuable. Our coin.” Vannix opened her palm and displayed a circular coin with the triangular sigil of the Peacemakers hanging, as if suspended, inside the outer band. It was wholly unlike any challenge coin in the Galactic Union save for a Depik favor token. There was a hint of emotion in her voice as she continued, “I can’t make the Flesset War go away. I can’t take away what my species tried to do. All I can promise you is that I do not, and will never, share those views. Take this as a symbol of my trust in you. I hope you can find it in you to trust me. I believe Force 25 will be made better for it.”

  Tara watched Maarg reach out and place an open palm under Vannix’s paw. The Peacemaker gently placed the challenge coin in Maarg’s palm and closed the TriRusk’s fingers around it. Maarg looked up at Vannix. Her dark eyes glistened.

  “I do not know what to say, Peacemaker.”

  Vannix grinned, her cheeks quivering. “Call me Vannix.”

  “Vannix,” Maarg said. “Thank you for entrusting me with this.”

  They looked at each other for a moment, and Tara simply watched. Being a leader sometimes meant doing nothing at the right times. After nearly a half minute had passed, Tara touched them both on the shoulder.

  “Let’s introduce you to the rest of the team, Maarg. Lucille? Ensure Maarg is added to all permissions for the team,” Tara said.

  <>

  “Thank you, Commander Mason. I promise not to be any trouble.”

  Bukk laughed. “Then you’re in the wrong place, Little One.”

  “We seem to be all about trouble these days.” Vannix grinned.

  Tara laughed and patted Maarg’s massive shoulder twice. “All I can say is welcome to Force 25, Maarg. We’re glad to have you.”

  * * *

  Blue Flight

  Hyperspace

  169.50 Hours Remaining to Weqq

  Kurrang allowed himself to fully relax into the converted console on the Blue Flight’s bridge. The ship didn’t have a name, and the Pendal flight crew were two of the oldest, most experienced pilots in the Guild. Both were Peacemakers and were not only pilots but skilled operators loyal to Guild Master Rsach and the High Council. Carrying highly classified official business for the Guild came with advantages and perks. The Blue Flight was a yacht unlike any other Kurrang had known, save for Rsach’s private ship. The only vessel mounted on a Besquith Thrust Core, they’d transitioned from the Araf Gate on a direct course to Weqq, but Kurrang’s thoughts were elsewhere.

  “You seem distracted, Kurrang.”

  Kurrang looked up at the forward console. Captain Dreel of the Besquith smiled at him with far too many teeth. Though he tried not to, Kurrang returned the gesture with a laugh. “You’ve only known me a little over ten cycles, Dreel. Are you already qualified to comment on my thoughts?”

  Dreel laughed. “You are everything Jessica said you were. I can see why she likes and trusts you. She is one of the best.”

  “She was trained well.” Kurrang nodded at the Besquith, who returned it solemnly.

  “My thanks, Kurrang,” Dreel said. “It is good to have you back in the Guild.”

  “Thank you, Dreel. Whether or not our gambit is successful, it’s good to be—how would Jessica put it? Oh, yes—back in the game.”

  Dreel’s smile faded. There was so much more at stake than a simple game. “Our gambit feels desperate. We should not be at this stage. The Guild should not be at this stage.”

  “The Guild responded the same way it always has. They have since realized their collective approach will not work. Our response had to change.” Kurrang cleared his throat. “I wouldn’t have come back had I not seen that. Rsach is a good Guild Master. Much better than those of my time. They couldn’t fight their way...never mind. We were at a tactical disadvantage when Peepo and her forces went after Earth. It was—let’s be honest—the least likely course of action for them. Ever since, Rsach has...excelled.”

  Dreel nodded. “I’ll admit I questioned the sense in letting the Veetanho destroy the consulate on Luna, but it’s galvanized humanity. I suspect there are far more Humans like Lieutenant Jessica Francis. The outcome of this war will depend on them.”

  Kurrang snorted. “This war. And the next. And the one after that. You have to feel this is just the beginning, Dreel.”

  “I do.” The Besquith cleaned his right claws with his left. “The Guilds will challenge each other, that much is clear. We will have to be ready for it. I trust Rsach and the High Council, and that must be their focus. Jessica’s mission with the Depik has grave implications, too. But I feel the first thing the Guild has to do is find Snowman.”

  Kurrang nodded, then laughed. “I do not understand Humans and their nicknames.”

  “Snowman is a callsign. A radio brevity code.”

  “I know.” Kurrang waved one hand. “They all seem to have them. Most of the names have a story behind them. That’s my curiosity. Who is James Francis? Why is he, ‘Snowman?’ And, more troubling, why does everyone in the galaxy want to find him?”

  Dreel nodded thoughtfully. “That’s what we’ll find out. Your daughter has likely contacted Force 25 by now.”

  “Yes,” Kurrang replied. “As soon as she left the bag, Lucille’s sensors would have found her. It was a foregone conclusion.”

  Dreel laughed. “You set her up to fail?”

  “Not really,” Kurrang smiled. “I knew the conditions would be against her. My daughter is very smart and very capable, but she is not a field operative. By doing this, I’m teaching her a lesson as well as giving Tara what she needs.”

  Dreel nodded. “The Guild will not be happy with us, Kurrang.”

  “There is a Human expression. I may get it wrong, but I think it’s something along the lines of ‘fuck them.’ We both know we cannot grant Lucille the ability to become sentient. She cannot be fully self-aware. Jessica provided no less than three instructions to make sure she cannot do it on her own. But by giving Maarg the complete log of Lucille’s interactions and the self-awareness of copying herself to the compound’s database, we have given Force 25 the advantage they need.”

  “They have too many target planets and too little time,” Dreel replied.

  “Precisely,” Kurrang said. “The databases of Intergalactic Haulers—all of them—are inside Lucille. All she needs is the chance to explore them with a couple of bright minds.”

  “Your daughter and my other favorite pupil. The brightest young minds I know. Vannix,” Dreel said. He suddenly laughed so hard, he had to hold his stomach. Between gasps for air, he snorted and pointed at Kurrang. “You bastard! That’s why you set Maarg up to do this. She’s young and idealistic.”

  “She has no idea what she’s getting into,” Kurrang replied. “She’s been told the entire galaxy is against her. Yet she can investigate and analyze facts better than most of the Peacemakers you and I have ever trained or met. She is the perfect addition to Force 25, and she needs to learn a very valuable lesson.”

  Dreel nodded, wiping his eyes. “And Vannix. Oh, that little...she’s amazing. She’s a Veetanho, and you’re forcing her and Maarg to work together. That’s genius. No doubt she’s already started on the records aboard Victory Twelve. Giving Force 25 your daughter, who is quite capable, is something beyond cunning, Kurrang. It’s a brilliant move. She does need to learn a lesson about the galaxy, and it’s one you cannot teach her on Weqq.”

  “It’s called parenting.” Kurrang laughed. “When all is said and done, I want her as far away from Weqq as possible. She’s better off with friends.”

  “As are we all.” Dreel tapped his console and scrolled though his messages. “I am confident our message went throu
gh. It took a bit of magic to send it through the correct channels and keep it off the diplomatic ones, but I believe it’s been received.”

  Kurrang nodded. “That’s all we can hope for. Force 25 isn’t much of a force right now. They’re going to need a lot more help. Especially if you’re right about who is chasing them.”

  “Oh, I’m right.” Dreel nodded. “We almost had that bastard a few months ago. Jackson Rains came as close as anyone in the last two years to finding Kr’et’Socae. But, when he failed, he gained the ire of our most wanted fugitive. Kr’et’Socae doesn’t let those kinds of things lie. He’s fully aware Rains is with Force 25, and he will see that as a means to an end.”

  Kurrang leaned forward in shock. “Rains is the bait?”

  “Yes.” Dreel grinned. “You seem surprised.”

  “I am,” Kurrang replied. He stroked his face with his massive hand. The pieces fit, though. “You want Kr’et’Socae consumed with Rains and stopping Force 25 so he’s out of the fight on Earth.”

  “Indeed.” Dreel chuckled. “There’s a bit more to it than that. I believe Force 25 will draw the bastard out. When they do, we can capture him or put him down for good. Then their path will be cleared, and they’ll have a much more defined target list. We do not have time for them to search 121 planets.”

  Kurrang nodded. “Not even a tenth of them.”

  “No.” Dreel nodded. “There is another matter no one has considered. The more I think about it, the more trouble I see.”

  “What would that be?”

  “Jessica’s mission is imperative, we know that. But I wonder what the leaders of the Mercenary and Peacemaker Guilds believe Snowman has. What if he doesn’t have anything?”

  “You’re talking materiel?”

  “Everything.” Dreel sighed. “There’s too much ambiguity. What if Snowman hasn’t collected great stores of equipment like the High Council believes? What if he’s simply on the run because the Mercenary Guild tried to kill him? What if this is a wild duck chase?”