by Mia R Kleve
They didn’t work on everyone, but on this batch of beings that looked like nothing so much as overgrown snacks, they did the job.
* * *
“Secure it, Teyhi.”
The halls, unsurprisingly, had remained clear. They were too in the open for Balin’s taste, but he’d keep watch while Teyhi confirmed their kills or locked in their suspects. Retreat did them little good if they learned nothing and, so far, it seemed the rest of the station’s populace had chosen avoidance. He sent his Peacemaker code to the station’s security to encourage them to keep the halls locked down until he cleared them. If security weren’t in on it. All the more reason to keep goggles and gun sweeping the area until Teyhi determined what was left of their trail.
He didn’t spare any effort to ensure Teyhi had the matter in hand—youth or no, the other Phidae had shown admirable reactions in their brief firefight. Only to be expected of one who’s completed Peacemaker training and a few resultant missions, but Balin had been around long enough to know there were few certainties. He preferred using data as a path to confirmation, not the confirmation itself, and now Teyhi had proven himself. Maybe the rookie would be worthy of Eletine at the end of this mission.
“They’re all dead. Chitinous skin but it didn’t seem to protect against the concussive wave.” Teyhi called down. “No identifying markers, but one has pinplants. I’m scanning it.”
“Take their guns, too.”
“You think we can trace them?”
“I like taking an enemy’s weapon and using it against them.” Balin reached into a pouch for a handful of protein but came up empty. He must have eaten it all while on high alert through the station.
“That sounds like a line from PM and the Merc Squad,” Teyhi responded, a hint of a laugh under his professional tone.
“Never said I never watched it,” Balin muttered, too low to carry to the rookie.
“Nothing up here. Want to get the station logs and see if we can trace where they came from? Possible they just had a grudge against Peacemakers.”
“Sending the security office a message now.” Could be they were pirates looking for clout by taking out a pair of Peacemakers. Could be Sisseron’s crew or someone else they’d stirred up poking into the system’s happenings. Could be a waste of time he didn’t have, or another critical step in this last hunt.
He grunted and hoped the security beings had edible food.
* * *
It took too long to pick up the trail. The smattering of small ships that fled for the gate upon the Eletine’s entry could have been a clue, or someone else not wanting to be wherever a Peacemaker’s attention was, or a complete coincidence.
Ship life fell into an unproductive pattern. Balin woke, checked his internal clock, dug dissatisfiedly through his files, and ate. He listened to Teyhi’s newest idea, grunted, wished he had his ship to himself, and ate. He ate, returned to his files, and eventually took himself back to fitful sleep.
On the seventh repetition of this routine, his countdown slowed.
That wasn’t exactly true. The knowledge of his body as a set of systems unwinding into entropy had its own set speed, like the throb of his blood through his joints. It neither slowed nor increased. He’d tried to explain it to Civix once, many rounds ago, but despite the similarities in their species, this distance had remained unfathomable.
Since Balin had been aware of the warmth and safety of the traditional burrow his mother had birthed him in, he’d been aware of the length of his own life. A steady pressure, a spinning away, like falling off a planet and out of gravity. The stretch of time he encompassed before his cells stopped replicating. When he’d been young, it had been vast. Shortly after he left the burrow, described the heft of it, his mother flared every scale, nearly doubling her size and scaring him for the first time in his early life.
A life that would always be small compared to his mother’s, those of his relatives, and those of everyone he ever met on his planet. Were he to go home now, his childhood friends would be nearing the middle of their long, quiet lives.
And this day, for him, the pressure of the countdown echoed into the emptiness behind it. His time unspooled, its limit within reach. The nothingness behind the countdown gave each beat a new weight, almost like a slowing. Deep breaths before the end.
Entropy take every star if he’d let that happen before he had the star-blasted Cochkala in hand and the rookie safely on his way back to Core.
“Where aren’t we looking?” he demanded, charging into the middle compartment and startling Teyhi out of his hanging sleep.
Teyhi’s abrupt motion out of his tightly curled ball sent him floating, only the strength of his tail keeping him hooked to the wall as he worked to reorient back toward Balin.
“Where…?” he asked, reaching slowly for his goggles to keep from flipping around again. Squinting at the older Phidae, he flared his scales as he tried to wake up and catch up at the same time. “For Sisseron?”
“We’ve looked where he’s denned in the past. We’ve looked into the associates the bounty hunters turned up. We’ve looked into the contracts he broke that registered the first complaints and the stations he’s hit along the way.” Balin ticked each point off on a claw, then clenched his hand together.
“We haven’t spent much time looking into where he’s from? And…” Teyhi succeeded in righting himself and paused before putting on his goggles. “Anywhere near where he attacked that he might have been selling the goods.”
“He doesn’t strike me as the sentimental sort, and the Wathayat Consortium would have scorched anyone he knew once he burned them. Let’s see what patterns we can pull on the latter.”
“If he does have a virus he’s been using on the Cartography records like Chrander thought, he could be trying to muddle where he’s selling even more than his actual location.” Teyhi’s hand tightened around the strap of his goggles as enthusiasm kicked in.
Balin nodded, ignoring the echoing countdown inside, and pushed off toward the main cabin.
He steadied himself on the doorway before passing through to say, “Not bad, Peacemaker.”
He didn’t have to look back to know Teyhi’s tail would be re-curling around his anchor in pleased embarrassment. He felt a similar warmth, himself.
* * *
“It’s as likely this is a ghost trail like the rest,” Balin grunted, as much to quiet the surge of hope in himself as in the rookie. He glanced without interest at the covered bowl of sliphe-bites Teyhi repeatedly nudged toward him and turned back to the screen. Half the scales on his chest itched, and he knew if he started scratching, he’d never stop.
His half-life neared its end, and Sisseron remained maddeningly out of reach.
“Civix confirmed it twice. Whoever made Sisseron’s virus is good, but the Cartography Guild has better. They said the virus remains active for a set time, and in eating itself leaves a faint trace they can follow to reconcile the records. I agree with Civix that that’s probably not how it’s all actually working, but at least we should have cleaner data and that points us here.”
They’d had this conversation several times in the long fall from the gate into the main planetary system, and Balin knew Civix wouldn’t mislead them.
Their coordinator had gone from hinting that they come home to offering to send reinforcements, but Sisseron didn’t need Enforcers. Two Peacemakers were more than enough for one rogue Cochkala, and Balin would finish this threat. He had made it this far in his career without leaving any job undone, and he intended to keep that record intact until the end of his life.
Which could be any day now. Or a few rounds from now. His measure of time and his body’s weren’t entirely the same, but it was close enough that he took nothing for granted.
“Station or planet?” Teyhi asked, pushing the bowl a little closer and rustling the snacks temptingly.
“The station’s easier to blast off from if things get hot.” Balin tried to muster up the ener
gy to flick his tongue into the bowl, if just to make Teyhi happy, but the idea of eating turned his stomach. “We know that’s what happened to Herunimine.”
“Given we’ve tracked him through stations before, it’s not his usual move to blow the place. Odds are in our favor.”
“Odds are no way to make decisions,” Balin said with a grunt. “Take us in to the station, get through whatever their rigmarole is, and wake me before we dock.” He made an effort not to react to Teyhi’s poorly hidden look of concern and pushed out of the pilot’s cabin.
He wasn’t dead yet, entropy take it.
* * *
“Eletine, this is the dock master, you read?” The incoming message pinged his pinplants, and it took Balin a moment to orient.
In his alcove, had been sleeping, had…left Teyhi the pilot’s chair. He stretched his jaw as he rolled out of his ball and focused. He’d left Teyhi in charge, but he hadn’t switched off the automatic relay of comms to his pinplants.
“We’ve moved you three levels over, Eletine.”
Balin, only registering one part of the conversation, cleared his mind with an effort and pushed out of his bunk, moving rapidly through the compartments of the ship. Distantly, the edges of hunger curled through his gut like an old friend.
Not dead yet, indeed.
“—going on over there, dock master?”
“Firefight, Eletine, what else? Not everyone’s happy to see a Peacemaker code come through.”
“It’s about us?” Teyhi asked, surprise in his voice.
So young.
Balin tapped the other Phidae on the shoulder, above the raised ridge of scales, to signal his presence. Teyhi nodded as the dock master replied.
“Station actual tipped off someone, all right. Don’t know who’s firing back, but I can’t promise if it’s friendly or just someone jumping the queue to get you. I’ve scrambled the codes so they can’t track who’s going where, but I hope you can pressurize fast and roll in hot.”
“That we can do, dock master. You have our thanks.”
“Peacemakers did right by some of mine once. Can’t say I hate returning the favor. Cutting out before they notice the scramble and try to trace anything.”
“Acknowledged.” Teyhi spun the chair to face Balin. “Probably not a ghost trail.”
“Probably not. No activity in this sector to justify that strong a reaction to a Peacemaker arriving.” Balin considered, holding onto the pilot’s chair as he floated. “Sisseron hasn’t been one to reveal himself so obviously.”
“No,” Teyhi said, drawing the words out as he stared into the distance. “He’s been one to get captured, three times at that, when we’ve seen how effective he is at going to ground. Then he’s one to improbably escape.”
“You think he’s setting us up?” Something had felt off. Balin had assumed it was the lingering taste of death in the back of his throat. Maybe it hadn’t been entirely that.
“I think he might be. Or he wanted Peacemakers specifically, to make an entirely different point.”
“Sisseron already has two guilds out for his blood, you think he wants a third?” Balin’s curiosity was piqued, and he circled around the chair to snatch up the unopened packet of protein Teyhi had left unattended. He punctured the bag with his tongue and grunted as he turned over the young Peacemaker’s idea.
“I’m unclear what Sisseron wants, to be truthful. He would have taken in more profit, over time, if he remained with the Wathayat. If he wanted to be the head of an operation, he could have chartered out or taken a contract.” Teyhi pretended not to watch him eat, and Balin appreciated the effort.
“You stay in the middle compartment when we lock into the station.” Balin pushed away, floating toward the door. “If the dock master was a ruse and everything blows, get a message back to Civix to drop as many Peacemakers on Sisseron’s head as he likes. The seal should hold long enough for you to get clear, and the pilot’s cabin should do for you to run like entropy itself.”
“And if it doesn’t blow?” Teyhi didn’t argue. Good newling.
“Give me a count of five to clear the hall and come out ready to shoot. We take nothing for granted on this one.”
“No unforced errors,” Teyhi agreed, and Balin hoped the young Peacemaker, at least, got out alive.
* * *
The walkway outside their airlock remained eerily quiet, and since they hadn’t blown up, Teyhi followed as they made their way into the station. Security and comms were locked down, and they forced two sets of doors open before they saw their first living being.
Mostly living.
The Human slumped against the wall, bright red blood splashed behind and around and over it. It startled awake, lifted a large gun unsteadily, then the gun sank again.
“Balin,” he said, voice strangled with what could have been shock but likely was blood in places it didn’t belong.
“Entropy and waste, Cleric.” Balin knew Teyhi would cover them and hurried closer to see if anything could be done.
“Sisseron blew Herunimine, and he thought he got me, so I let him. Went back to an older cover…he hadn’t figured that one out.” Cleric gurgled an awful sound that became, terribly, a laugh. “Tracked him here. Got here before you.”
“You had an advance start on the action,” Balin said, scanning the bounty hunter’s smaller body and finding nothing of good news.
“And you’re careful. Good.” A cough, this time, worse than the laugh. Cleric didn’t have long left. Outside of their merc armor, they were fragile at best. “I got a crew of boys I ran with before I linked up with the guild. They’ve done some things, but nothing you’re compromised working with.” The words were taking a toll—Cleric’s chest heaved with the effort as he attempted to gesture through the doors ahead. “Sent them on and told ‘em to lay down fire for the Peacemakers and that you wouldn’t bring them in if they did.”
“Done,” Balin said, dismissing all the questions he had. Cleric’s time was even closer than his own, and the Peacemaker knew better than to clutter it.
“It’s bad, Balin. I don’t think he’s working against the Trade Guild. Couldn’t get under the deals, but it doesn’t add up.”
“We agree—” Teyhi started, cutting himself off at Balin’s abrupt gesture.
“I’ll…transfer you my files. My boys wouldn’t know what to do…with…but the…Peacemakers…” His eyes started to glaze, but he jerked himself forward, shoving his gun at Balin. “Get one on that entropy-ridden shitbrain for me.”
Balin dropped his head for the handful of seconds he could spare to honor a bounty hunter who’d gone well beyond his scope of duty.
* * *
Six of Cleric’s boys held the corridor behind them while they stalked a Cochkala—hopefully the Cochkala—through a storage hangar.
Plenty of cover for them, but equally as much for him, and no telling if others of his criminal enterprise had made it in ahead of them. Cleric’s crew hadn’t gone far from their boss, locking down the next hall over and limiting the Cochkala’s possible escapes.
They’d been grateful to hear Cleric hadn’t died alone and that Balin would honor the deal.
Now Balin had to honor the threat.
“Heard you’re still working for the Trade Guild,” Teyhi called, aiming to distract the Cochkala and cover any noise while Balin moved ahead.
“The Trade and Cartography Guilds can climb on top of each other and rut until entropy for all I care.” Sisseron’s voice dripped with disgust, even through their translators. “Cartography’s good for taking ships in, but then the Trade Guild swallows everyone’s credits and goods. So I’ll let them decide amongst themselves in what order who climbs into who. Mostly, they want to twist the profit out of everyone else. I’d rather they turn on each other. Why Peacemakers put up with their entropy…”
He trailed off, appearing atop a pile of boxes and tilting his head at an unnecessary angle before dropping back down. Balin silently cursed th
e missed shot—relying on the googles meant a slight delay, but now he had this particular Cochkala’s image locked into the display as a target. His pinplants confirmed this Cochkala was, in fact, their Cochkala.
A deep thrumming noise emerged from where Sisseron had disappeared, then a loud snuffling that became snorting, and with a wave of displeasure, Balin realized the hole-riddled Cochkala was laughing at him.
“Is that why it took so long for your Guild to send an actual Peacemaker? They like having Trade and Cartography run their routes? No wonder they weren’t that worried about me after the complaints went in. Bet I shouldn’t have killed all the bounty hunters…embarrassing for the guild, that.” He clacked his teeth together. “Lesson for next time, I wager. In my defense, they weren’t…I mean, I don’t want to insult you.” Even the translator couldn’t make that sound authentic. “They weren’t bad. I’ve escaped from dumber guards. Just…they weren’t the best your guild had to send, were they?”
Cleric’s face weighed in his gut, and Balin kept his mouth shut. His guild had sent competent bounty hunters, each with an impressive number of captures, and even kills, on their logs. His guild certainly had nothing to do with whatever rotting excrement this leaf-eater spewed in an effort to deceive him.
Teyhi had remained remarkably quiet, showing great discipline for a youth. Balin filed another mark in the younger Peacemaker’s favor and knew Eletine would be in good claws.
He continued his careful path through the stacks, scanning with every sense.
Sisseron continued insulting the Peacemaker Guild, but his voice moved around too fast. Did he have the room rigged? Balin stilled and flipped through his goggles’ spectrums to the trap.
The Cochkala talked too much. There had to be a trap. Cleric had been sure something less obvious was going on, and Balin wouldn’t let this last mission be a failure.
