Single Shot (Justice of the Covenant Book 3)

by M. R. Forbes

  Single Shot

  Justice of the Covenant: Book Three

  M.R. Forbes

  Published by Quirky Algorithms

  Seattle, Washington

  This novel is a work of fiction and a product of the author’s imagination.

  Any resemblance to actual persons or events is purely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2018 by M.R. Forbes

  All rights reserved.

  Cover illustration by Geronimo Ribaya

  Acknowledgments

  THANK YOU for staying with the series, and picking up the third and final book.

  THANK YOU to my beta readers and editor. There were some ugly errors in there that have been cleaned thanks to you.

  THANK YOU to my wife. Enough said.

  1

  “You really don’t think Thetan will find us here?” Tibor asked. “Even considering what Witchy told us about the Oracle?”

  “We’re fine,” Quark replied. “Rage Station isn’t on any maps, and it’s not programmed into any nav systems.”

  “Then how do you know where it is?”

  “I’m old. I know shit most people have forgotten. Besides, if the Nephies want to come, let them come. We sure as hell aren’t going to get the Oracle off the Worldbrain without any guns.”

  “Or any other tech, for that matter,” Hayley said.

  She was sitting in her usual spot on the Chalandra’s bridge, watching the Colonel and the pilot. She knew the FTL timer on the displays ahead of both of them were counting down and they would be arriving at the station soon.

  The rest of the Riders would be in their quarters, doing their best to prep for arrival. Their skin-of-the-teeth escape from both Thetan and the naniate Collective had left them battered and sore, out of ammo and on the wrong side of Don Pallimo’s patience. It had sent them nearly three days out from their final destination, a long haul to make for a simple resupply run.

  She had a feeling there wasn’t going to be anything simple about it. There hadn’t been anything simple about anything these last couple of weeks, and it was getting worse, not better. She fully expected the Nephilim to either already be waiting at the station or to show up soon after they arrived, sent to the uncharted location by a child with an engineered gift for divining the future.

  Or at least, making accurate guesses based on the multitude of data that was fed into the Worldbrain every second.

  She could sense Quark felt the same way, despite his nonchalant attitude. He was keeping his rage and frustration contained, staying even to keep his Riders even. Most of them didn’t know him well enough to see through it or for him to let it slip, but she did.

  “Don’t you think Jil should be handling the stick on this one, Colonel?” Tibor asked, turning away from Quark and back to the Chalandra’s viewport.

  There wasn’t much to look at while they were in FTL. Hayley couldn’t see the blue cloud of disterium gas surrounding the ship, but she knew it was there too.

  “Nah,” Quark replied. “I don’t want to waste her energy on a simple docking procedure. I know you’re piloting skills are meh, but don’t you think you can get us locked to the station without fragging it up?”

  “Aye, Colonel,” Tibor replied, smiling. “I’ve got it.”

  “Damn right,” Quark said.

  A soft tone sounded, the ship’s computer indicating that they were about to drop out of FTL. Hayley relaxed into her seat, keeping her vision on Quark as they approached the station. His qi had been shuffling between blue and red for days, as he settled into a calm and then exploded back out into fury. She only partially knew how he felt. Sykes had betrayed all of them, but for him it was much more personal. The engineer and the Colonel had been a thing between his on-again, off-again rounds with Nibia.

  Was that why she had turned them over to the Nephilim?

  Or did it come down to simple greed?

  Whatever. They would catch up to that bitch soon enough. Dealing with Thetan was important. Dealing with the Collective was more important than that. Who knew what the naniate hivemind’s motivation was or what it would do now that it had escaped from Yeti-4?

  Nobody.

  And that was a major problem. Not just for them, but for the Republic. For the Outworlds. For the entire galaxy, including the blank area at the fringe of the Fringe they were about to enter. Dark Space. The edge of what was officially tracked and cataloged.

  Quark had been dodgy about how he knew Rage Station existed, even with her. He had explained it away as just one of those things he picked up over the years. A nugget of intel he had captured at one time or another and held onto over the centuries of his life. His qi suggested he was being honest, but there were a lot of levels of honesty, and she knew there were things about it he wasn’t saying.

  Whether or not those things came into play on this trip? She supposed they were going to find out.

  The tones on the Chalandra silenced as the ship fell out of FTL and quickly left the disterium field behind, sublight reactors powering them forward toward Rage Station.

  “Well,” Tibor said. “We’ve been here ten seconds, and we haven’t been attacked yet. That’s a good sign.”

  “Better than usual,” Hayley agreed.

  “I’m getting a hail from Station Control,” Tibor said.

  “Put it on the projector,” Quark replied.

  Hayley saw the man appear at the front of the bridge as a fuzzy blue pattern of energy cast by the projector. His form was stiff and proper.

  “Your tags are registering as the luxury vessel Chalandra,” the man said, his voice flat. “According to our records, the Chalandra was reported lost near the planet Kelvar three months ago.” He paused, staring at Quark. “You certainly don’t look like the captain of a luxury cruiser.”

  “Colonel-” Tibor started to say.

  Quark put up his hand to quiet him. “It just so happens, I found this pansy piece of crap dockside of said planet,” he replied. “I’d be happy to trade it for something a little less effeminate, assuming you’re planning to let us dock.”

  “Rage Station remains fully autonomous through an excess of caution,” the man said. “This vessel you’ve… acquired, belonged to an heir to the Triad fortune. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about his disappearance, would you?”

  “Nope,” Quark said. “I told you, I found her on Kelvar. Abandoned. She’s personally not my taste, but beggars can’t be choosers. Are we going to chew the shit all day, or are you going to clear us to dock?”

  “One moment,” the man said. He turned away, his top half leaving the view of the projector. Then he stood up again. “You’ve been approved for three hours dock-time, Colonel. No more. And your request to barter the Chalandra has been denied. As I said, an excess of caution. If anyone were to discover your ship had been traded on Rage Station, it would bring one government or another to our little hole in space faster than you can say singularity.”

  Quark sighed, losing another bid to move them to something with a little more firepower. Or any firepower, for that matter.

  “Roger that, Control,” he said, his qi darkening with his annoyance. “Three hours should do us fine.”

  “Very good. Please maneuver to Docking Arm 6D. Your time starts the moment the lock is complete. Enjoy your stay on Rage Station.”

  The projection vanished.

  “Enjoy your stay on Rage Station,” Quark mimicked. “Asshole.”

  “He called you Colonel,” Hayley said. “It seems like he knows who you are.”

  “He should,” Quark replied. “This isn’t the first time I’ve been here.”

  “That kid couldn’t h
ave been more than twenty,” Tibor said.

  “Yeah, right,” Quark replied. “Try a hundred and twenty.”

  “Stasis?” Hayley asked.

  “Nope,” Quark replied. “You couldn’t tell from the projection. He’s a synth. He was standing in that same spot the last time I was here. I don’t think he ever moves. Anyway, that was a long time ago. The projection’s better res now, but not much else has changed.”

  Hayley watched his qi shift colors, mingling red with gray and yellow. It was an odd combination coming from the Colonel.

  “What happened here, sir?” she asked.

  “Never mind that,” Quark said. “We’ve got three hours to resupply. Xolo, bring us in and get us locked. Let’s make every second count.”

  2

  The Chalandra shuddered slightly as it tapped the side of the docking arm a little harder than Tibor probably intended. Hayley reached out to the wall to steady herself, smiling when she heard Quark curse behind her.

  “Can’t that hairless mongrel manage to do a simple docking procedure without overcorrecting?” he said. “He’s got the delicacy of a sledgehammer.”

  “What do you want from a Goreshin?” Hayley replied. “They aren’t known for having a light touch.”

  “Yeah, right,” Quark said. “I’m going to hit my quarters for a second. Do me a favor and grab Narrl for the ingress.”

  “What about Jil and Ahab?” she asked.

  “I want Jil on the hot seat, just in case. Ahab?” He shook his head sadly. “I don’t know what the frag to do with Ahab. I’d leave him here, but I’d have to get permission from Control, and then I’m trading one headache for another.” He sighed. “Bring him along, I guess. Maybe he’ll get shot. Should have been him instead of Lana.”

  “Yes, sir,” Hayley said.

  Quark ducked into his quarters as they passed. To Hayley, it was a curious move. Everything about the Colonel had been curious since they had arrived. And before that. He had been out of sorts since he decided to head to Rage Station.

  Why?

  She continued along the line of staterooms, to the smaller berthing Narrl had claimed. She buzzed his door, the room’s serving bot answering it a moment later.

  “Greetings, Ms. Cage,” it said.

  “Yeah, hi,” Hayley replied. “Narrl, are you ready to go?”

  The large Curlatin appeared from the bathroom. He was stuck wearing the clothes he had been carrying since Athena, though at least they had been washed and patched. He had pulled some of his fur back into a patterned bob on the back of his head, giving him what looked like a hairy crown.

  “What the hell is that?” she asked, pointing at it.

  “You don’t like it?” he replied. “It’s a traditional Kreb. It’s meant to bring peace and prosperity.”

  “I think you’re on the wrong ship if you want peace and prosperity.”

  He laughed, deep and low. “I’m hoping to at least get some new clothes before we have to run for our lives again.”

  “Aren’t we all. Quark wants us in the hold ASAP.”

  “Roger.” He walked over to his sofa and grabbed a long knife from it, tucking it into a sheath hidden under the hair of his forearm. “I’m ready.”

  They left his quarters together. He split away from Hayley at the fur-lined stairs down into the hold, stopping when she continued to the rooms opposite them.

  “Where are you going?” he asked.

  “The Colonel wants Ahab with us.”

  Narrl’s expression said all that he needed to say about the former mercenary commander. Nobody wanted a coward on their team, and so far that was the only thing Ahab had proven himself to be.

  “I’m not babysitting him,” he said.

  “Roger that,” Hayley replied.

  She made her way to his quarters and knocked on his door. He answered it himself, surprised by the sudden attention.

  “Witchy?” he said. His qi was gray and yellow. “This is the end of the road for me, isn’t it? I’m going to spend the rest of my life trapped on a space station in the middle of nowhere.”

  “Lucky for you, the Colonel doesn’t want to file the paperwork. No, you’re on the away team. You have a chance to do it differently and earn your place. You should try to take it.”

  He nodded. “I was never a good soldier,” he said. “But you don’t need to be a soldier to run operations. Just a ship and good connections, and enough money to hire the good soldiers. I know there’s no place on the Riders for that.”

  “Everybody has their uses,” she said. “I’m not supposed to be on the front lines. I’m a healer. A witch doctor. I’m supposed to be running support. We do what we have to do, right?”

  His qi brightened slightly. “We need supplies. I can help you negotiate. I’m good at that.”

  “See, you aren’t useless after all.”

  “I’m ready to go. I was expecting to get kicked off the team.”

  “Not yet.”

  They headed to the hold. Tibor and Quark were already there with Narrl. They were a ragged group, a stark contrast to the posh decoration of the luxury cruiser.

  “Ahab reporting for duty, sir,” Ahab said, coming to attention in front of Quark.

  The Colonel stared at him a moment but didn’t reply. He turned away before contacting Jil on the bridge.

  “Jilly-bean, deactivate the gravity generators.”

  “Aye, Colonel,” Jil replied over the comm.

  A barely noticeable hum subsided, and all of them started to rise from the floor. The docking airlock was on the bottom of the hull, the ship technically hanging vertically from the arm that speared out from Rage Station. The station was old, and the arms didn’t have artificial gravity along their lengths.

  “It’s been a while since I did zero-g,” Ahab said, shifting uncomfortably in the space, trying to keep himself righted and facing the airlock.

  “Me, too,” Hayley agreed, though she wasn’t struggling to stay level.

  Quark floated to the airlock, entering the code to open it. It unsealed with a soft hiss, swinging inward. He moved to the arm’s hatch and tapped the control pad. It unsealed and swung in as well.

  “Let’s move, Riders,” he said.

  He pushed through into the docking arm. It wasn’t much more than a long metal tunnel. There were tracks on the top and bottom used to guide cargo modules through it and keep them under control, but otherwise it was smooth, with a slight angle at the midpoint where it extended from the station.

  “Time’s wasting,” he said, using the tracks to pull himself forward and build momentum along the tube.

  Hayley followed behind him, with the others behind her. They shot forward through the tunnel, quickly making the distance to the angle and then toward the next airlock. Quark rotated to plant his feet against it and brought himself to a stop when he reached it, while Hayley pressed her palms against the wall, using the friction to slow herself down. The other Riders managed too, including Ahab.

  Quark opened the airlock, leading them into an adjoining space. The gravity controls were against the wall. Once they were all inside and the arm’s hatch sealed, he slowly increased the artificial gravity until it matched Earth. They had their feet firmly planted on the floor of the station a few seconds later.

  “Five minutes down,” he said. “Not bad.”

  Hayley had watched his qi continue to shift as he moved through the docking arm. He was getting more nervous the closer he got to the station. It was a strange reaction, especially from him.

  She had never seen him nervous before. He hadn’t been nervous when Yeti-4 was collapsing beneath their feet. He hadn’t been nervous when Mazrael had put his Uin to her throat. But this was throwing his game?

  She almost asked him what was going on again, but his head turned toward her, and his qi shifted defensively. Now wasn’t a good time.

  He looked away again, moving to the connecting airlock that would bring them out into the station. He tapped the c
ontrols a little more slowly.

  The hatch opened.

  A woman was standing behind it, waiting for them.

  Sykes?

  3

  “You bitch!” Hayley cried, immediate fury filling her at the sight of the Rider’s former engineer.

  She tried to get past Quark. To reach the woman who was responsible for the death of her mother, and for the loss of her family. She could hardly believe it when Quark put his arm out, blocking her path and holding her in place.

  “What the frag?” she cried. “Let me go!”

  He looked at her, shifting himself to block her when she tried to get around him. Sykes just stood there watching them, her qi dark and sad, fearful and regretful. Frag her and her regrets. She couldn’t just stand there and say she was sorry.

  Could she?

  “Colonel,” Hayley said. “What the hell? Dad, let me go!”

  The tears welled in her eyes behind her visor, running out from beneath it. She didn’t understand this. Any of this. Worse?

  It seemed like Quark did. He knew Sykes was here. He knew she would be waiting. That’s why he was nervous. Not for himself. For Hayley.

  “Hold up, kiddo,” he said. “Please. Hold up.”

  She continued to struggle, trying to get past him, to reach the woman who had betrayed them. Why wasn’t he trying to do the same? Why was he telling her to stop? It didn’t make any sense.

  “Stand down. Now, soldier!” he snapped.

  She reacted almost automatically. She stopped trying to get past him, moving into attention, her body rigid, her arms at her sides. She continued to glare at Sykes, who refused to look at her at all.

  “I know you want to rip her face off, Hal,” Quark said. “I’m not going to say I wouldn’t like to do the same. But we’re not doing that. Not yet.”

  She remained silent, her blood continuing to boil.