Sword of the Legion (Galaxy's Edge Book 5)

by Jason Anspach

  “Let’s hope they don’t have ’em!”

  “They’ll have ’em,” Pike replied. “We’ve got that Dark Ops luck today, Captain.”

  Wasn’t that the truth? This mission should be finished. And while Chhun didn’t dwell on how much had gone wrong or the amount of fault the Republic Navy had in causing so much to go wrong, he did think that it sure would be nice to not have to do this alone.

  “How are we on mines?”

  “No reserves. I’ve got them set up behind the turret. I’m hoping if they get past that, they’ll rush as a group and we’ll get a few multi-kills.”

  “Roger,” Chhun said. He checked the countdown chrono on his HUD. “Better fall back to the roof, then. Our ride should be on its way.”

  “On my way.”

  Chhun looked to the leejes sending plunging fire down onto the rebels below. “How we doing?”

  “Mids are pretty good at dying,” Masters answered, “but enough of them are squirting through and sheltering at the base of the building. They just keep coming.”

  The L-comm chimed to indicate a non-squad communication. “Victory Squad,” came the voice of Wraith. “I’m positioned for an attack run to clear the area before landing. You might want to curl up into little balls and say your prayers. This is gonna be a little rough…”

  “Grab some cover!” Chhun commanded.

  The roar of an incoming ship softened into the hum of repulsors, and a Naseen freighter slowed and moved above the main avenue, its nose pointed slightly down toward the streets. Its heavy blaster cannons opened up, sending concussive explosions rippling through the crowd—impacts that Chhun could feel in the cavity of his chest. That ship was packing some serious, and technically illegal, firepower.

  Fish’s voice was shaking from the impact of the blaster cannons. “Is that pilot shooting anti-vehicle blasters into the mids? Holy hell!”

  “Sure sounds like it!” Bear shouted. “That’ll clear ’em out. Ooah!”

  “Oh, nasty!” Masters said. “It’s raining rebel pieces.”

  Chhun saw the carnage Masters was referring to. Some of the MCR had made it to the roof—in fragmented pieces—blown apart and upward by the ship’s tremendous firepower.

  Pike’s voice came over L-comms. He still hadn’t reached the roof. “Oba! Sounds like the whole building is going to come down!”

  “What’s it look like downstairs?” Chhun asked.

  “They’re coming in. We’ll know when to get guns on the door when we hear the—”

  He was cut off by the booming explosion of the mines, their last line of defense.

  “Okay, so now,” Masters said, swinging his N-4 around to cover the rooftop door.

  “Wraith,” Chhun called over the L-comm. “We’d really love to get off this roof right about now.”

  “Sorry,” Wraith replied. “They’re setting up a crew-served anti-air battery. Shields won’t stop the ray-shielded missile that thing fires, and I’ll be a sitting groose hovering over the rooftop. Gotta take one more pass. You really ticked the mids off today.”

  05

  Keel made a wide, rolling arc, frowning at the small-arms blaster fire that extinguished itself in harmless flashes against the Indelible VI’s shields. “One more pass,” he announced to the cockpit.

  Skrizz popped his feline head inside and yammered a question.

  “Nothing much you can do up here,” Keel said. “But thanks for the offer. Oh, and are you staying on or getting off this stop?”

  The wobanki yowled a negative, and pointed out that his desire to move on in the galaxy on his own didn’t mean he wanted to get dropped in among a mob of rebels. The catman would be staying. For now.

  “Can’t say I blame you,” Keel said, leveling the craft for its next strafing maneuver. “Word of advice: don’t mess with the legionnaires that come on board. They’ll drop you before you can twitch your whiskers.” He felt that Skrizz was the only one on board who might think it was a good idea to test the oncoming Dark Ops team. The message was his fair warning.

  With a parting yowl, Skrizz left Keel to vector in his weapon systems.

  “Here we go,” Keel said, arming his forward cannons.

  Leenah, still in the navigator’s seat, covered her eyes. “Oh, I can’t watch this again.”

  The Six’s blaster cannons ripped into what remained of the MCR, cutting a path to the mobile A-A emplacement and reducing it to little more than melted slag and broken parts.

  “Why not?” asked Keel.

  Leenah dropped her hands from her eyes, but didn’t look outside. Instead she fixed a hot-take stare at Keel. “Because they’re getting ripped apart and blown to pieces!”

  “So?”

  “So, that’s an awful thing to see!”

  Keel shrugged. “They’d do the same to us.”

  Leenah folded her arms and leaned back in her seat. “That doesn’t mean I have to like it. Or watch it happening.”

  “Suit yourself, princess,” Keel said with a smile. The ship finished its attack run, leaving the streets around the target building virtually clear—except for the smoldering dead. “Let’s pick up our new crew. It’s gonna be crowded for a few hours.”

  He maneuvered the ship on repulsor power so that it hovered above the roof. The building didn’t look like it could handle the weight of a landing, and besides, the legionnaires were in the middle of a firefight with MCR that were attempting to make it through the rooftop door. Keel eased the ship off to one side, just off the edge of the building, and dropped the ramp. His spacing was perfect, and the ramp lowered onto the wall like a gangplank.

  “Deploy the belly turret,” he said to Leenah.

  The Endurian pressed the requisite areas of the touch console.

  “Aim it at the doorway where all the MCR are trying to spill out.”

  Leenah complied, though somewhat more hesitantly. She touched the console as if it were covered in a muddy slime and all she really wanted was to keep her hands clean.

  “Victory Squad,” Keel called into the L-comm, “I’ve got you covered. Fall back into the ship. And don’t get in the way of my cannon.”

  “Copy, Wraith,” answered Chhun.

  Keel held the craft in place rather than trusting the shipboard AI to keep it steady. He wanted to depart with full thrusters on the moment the door closed, and waiting for the AI to allow the dangerous maneuver would cost him precious seconds. So, manual it was. “Okay,” he said softly to Leenah. “Open fire and dust those mids.”

  “Oh…” Leenah’s hand hovered over the button. “Aeson… I can’t!”

  “Whaddaya mean you can’t?” Keel said, incredulous. “Shoot them, or our reason for coming gets killed, and we probably get a grenade or rocket sent inside the ship for our trouble!”

  Leenah gritted her teeth, still hesitating. “I just… I just don’t want to be responsible for ripping people apart like earlier. I—”

  There was no time to argue. Keel leaned over to press the button on Leenah’s screen himself, keeping one hand on the flight controls in an attempt to hold the Six steady. He thought this would be faster than dragging things over his way, but the simple task proved difficult. The distance was enough that he stretched himself to his limits, and when his neck craned upward for a glimpse of the screen, the side of his face was pressed against Leenah’s chest. He swatted his hand around blindly in an attempt to hit the fire control, feeling as though his cheeks might be as pink as Leenah’s skin.

  Under different circumstances, he would have made a joke about their position and predicament, given that Leenah wasn’t exactly trying to push him off of her. But now wasn’t the time. The ship listed as Keel kept swiping for the fire control.

  “You gonna open up anytime soon?” Chhun asked over L-comm.

  “Yeah!” Keel shouted back. To Leenah, his voice somewhat muffled by her coveralls, he said, “A little help to get me in the right direction?”

  Leenah grabbed Keel’s wrist and sl
apped his hand down onto the fire control. The high-pitched rapid fire of the belly turret sounded, and Keel sprang back into his own seat, righting the ship so the kill team could run aboard.

  “Thanks,” Keel said.

  The Endurian straightened her coveralls. “That doesn’t count. Technically it was still you who shot all those people.”

  “Seems fair,” Keel replied with a nod.

  The turret’s ready fire laid waste to the rebels who had reached the doorway, and prevented any more from trying. The constant stream of blaster bolts made it suicidal for them to press the attack.

  “We’re all on board and secure,” Chhun announced.

  Keel raised the ramp and switched over fire controls to himself. He retracted the belly turret and turned the ship so that its rear thrusters faced the rooftop door. A few MCR took advantage of the lull to spring out onto the roof and shoot without effect at the Naseen freighter. They were promptly incinerated when Keel punched up the ship’s main thrusters and the Indelible VI rocketed away on a planetary exit trajectory.

  ***

  “Unidentified starship, you have violated a Republic no-fly zone! Power down and await immediate impound.”

  The stern rebuke was broadcast from the Republic destroyer looming in the distance.

  “Must’ve missed the sign,” Keel mumbled to himself. He signaled for Leenah to activate the comm. “Republic destroyer, this is the freighter Probable Horseshoe. Transmitting authorization credentials.”

  Keel burst his kill team credentials and waited.

  And waited.

  Chhun came into the cockpit, his helmet off. For a moment the two men just stared at one another, as if unsure how to proceed. Then Chhun extended a hand to the seated Keel. “Thanks for the rescue.”

  Keel shook Chhun’s hand. “Don’t mention it.” He nodded toward his navigator. “This is Leenah.”

  Chhun shook Leenah’s hand as well. “A pleasure to meet you.”

  “Thank you,” Leenah answered.

  “She used to be MCR,” Keel said offhandedly, hiding a grin behind his hand.

  Leenah’s eyes went wide. She looked up at Chhun as if expecting him to lock her in ener-chains or point a blaster pistol at her head. But the legionnaire didn’t pay the comment any mind.

  “We can catch up later,” Chhun said. “I just wanted to pop in and see where to put my guys. See if you need anything.”

  “There’s a storage locker in the—” Keel began before he was interrupted by an incoming comm transmission from the destroyer.

  “Freighter… Probable Horseshoe?” the comm officer said, as if in disbelief at what he was reading. This was a new voice. The comm transmission had probably been sent up the chain of command, given Keel’s use of the kill team credentials. “This is Chief Comm Officer Pillman. Am I to understand that you have a Republic kill team on board?”

  Keel leaned toward the comm. “That’s correct. They’re all here. They seem pretty mad that you didn’t send down a shuttle. I wouldn’t bother them if I were you.”

  “Horseshoe, you are to await fighter escort and follow to Illustrious docking bay two.”

  Keel leaned in to speak in the comm. “Uh, negative, Illustrious. Kill team has orders to move on.”

  “Await Raptor escort,” the comm officer repeated.

  “Illustrious, this is Captain Chhun. We have orders from Legion Command to move directly to another target.”

  Leenah looked up from her sensors. “Two Raptors have left the destroyer and are on an intercept course.”

  “Not my problem, Legionnaire,” said Pillman. “You all can go wherever you want after you dock, but this ship is a private register, and it is being impounded for violation of a duly mandated no-fly zone.”

  “Fat chance of that,” Keel muttered. He looked up at Chhun. “Better get strapped in.”

  “What for?”

  “Even if we had time to deal with these Repub rules and regs—which I didn’t get the impression we did—you can forget it. This is how you lose your ship. Trust me.”

  “So you’re going to, what? Outrun a Republic destroyer and two Raptors?”

  Keel waited until he heard the click of Chhun’s safety harness. “Pretty much.”

  The Indelible VI rolled vertical and dramatically increased its speed, shooting between the two Republic Raptors as they lazily drifted in place to assume an escort formation.

  “Probable Horseshoe!”

  Keel laughed at the protestations of the comm officer. He loved when the outraged or bewildered voices on the other side of the comm were forced to use one of the ridiculous false names and registries Keel had manufactured. The only thing missing from this moment was a slow head shake from Ravi.

  “Ford,” Chhun said, and Keel could tell that the legionnaire was gripping the back of his chair. “What’re you doing? We’re going to run into the Illustrious.”

  “Probable Horseshoe! Decelerate and adjust course or we will be forced to disable you!”

  “The Raptors are getting within firing range,” Leenah warned.

  “Relax,” Keel said calmly. “I’ve done this a hundred times. They won’t catch us.”

  A blaster cannon burst sizzled in front of the canopy before it was snuffed out by the Indelible’s shields.

  Keel nosed his ship down abruptly, his sublight engines whining as he sent more power to them. “Hang on,” he called out before squeezing the light speed controls.

  Star lines filled the cockpit. The ship picked up speed—and then just as quickly slowed.

  “Did you just do a micro-jump?” Leenah asked.

  “Yeah. We’re a good thousand kilometers away.”

  “I thought those were dangerous,” Chhun said.

  Keel shrugged. “Incredibly so. But with enough practice…”

  Leenah unbuckled from her chair. “Those are murder on a ship’s engine. I’d better go and make sure everything is all right.”

  “I’m sure it’ll be okay,” Keel said, watching her go. “Ravi and I used to make those jumps all the time.”

  “Doesn’t mean that this time you won’t have fused the drive couplers,” Leenah grumbled on her way out the door.

  Keel smiled. Leenah was too much a mechanic to not use any excuse to pore over the engines, just to make sure the ship was still operating in peak condition.

  “So…” Chhun began.

  Keel stood and stretched, then clapped Chhun’s armored shoulder. “C’mon. You can introduce me to your team before we get a brief from Owens.”

  “Sure,” Chhun said, getting up himself. “Only, I need to know where we are, where we’re going… I didn’t realize we were getting picked up just to go on another op. My team’s not set. We’ve gone dry on ammo, maybe a pair of fraggers and ear-poppers between us all.”

  Keel gave him a devilish grin. “I’ve got that covered, too.”

  ***

  Prisma wasn’t sure if she liked the black-armored legionnaires that commingled with Skrizz and Garret in the ship’s common lounge. She peered out from her quarters, watching them down the hall.

  “Why is their armor black?” she asked Crash. “They look different from those black soldiers on Tarrago. The ones who killed…”

  She stopped, not wanting the cursed image of her father’s final moments to rush back into her mind’s eye.

  “They are a Republic Dark Ops kill team, young miss,” Crash answered, sounding pleased at being able to provide the answer. “They are the most capable soldiers in the Legion. Highly trained and deadly.”

  “Could you kill them if you had to?”

  Crash seemed to consider. “Some of them, though I believe they would terminate me before I could dispense of the entire team. It would be better to do whatever they say, as lawful representatives of the Republic. And perhaps they are friendly.”

  “Do you think they’re here for me?”

  “Based on what the Indelible VI’s AI has told me, we picked them up in some sort of resc
ue mission. They may be friends of Captain Keel.”

  Prisma scrunched up her face. “Who would want to be friends with him?”

  A legionnaire looked down the hall and saw Prisma staring. She gasped and ducked back inside her quarters. He looked dangerous in his armor. And scary. And that made her upset. Because she was done being afraid.

  She willed herself to step out into the hall. She would not let this… Dark Ops person know that she was afraid. Even if he wanted to capture her or do terrible things to her and take her away from Crash, he would say, “That girl sure is brave.”

  The legionnaire took a step toward her, and Prisma reflexively took a step back. She wanted to retake the ground she’d given up, but her muscles seemed frozen in place. But the black armored soldier didn’t advance any further. Instead, he lowered himself to one knee, pulled off his helmet, and placed it gently on the floor. He smiled at Prisma and gave her a wink.

  “Hey,” he said. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

  Prisma felt less afraid. And she thought the man underneath the helmet was handsome. She liked the way his face looked. But it was strange. She’d always imagined that the men beneath the armor were all ugly and frightening—that their helmets covered grotesque scars and colorless eyes, twisted teeth and snarling curled lips.

  “My name’s Ellis,” the legionnaire said. “But everyone calls me Masters. What’s your name?”

  Prisma felt the urge to run into her quarters and lock the door. But she was brave now. “Prisma,” she said.

  “It’s nice to meet you, Prisma. Do you like candy? I have…” Masters began to rummage through his belt pouches. He produced an empty chocolate bar wrapper. “Oh. I guess I ate it.”

  Prisma giggled, and that made the legionnaire named Masters smile.

  “Oh, very funny,” Masters said. “But you didn’t answer my question. Do you like candy?”

  Prisma nodded. It had been so long since anyone had given her anything like that. Her daddy used to bring her sweets. But only sometimes, and Prisma was never allowed to tell her mother, because then Daddy would get into trouble for spoiling her appetite. Hogus and Skrizz had never offered her sweets; they just grunted over bowls of white reprocessed slop and expected her to do the same. And Crash didn’t even eat food. It felt good for someone to offer her something nice. Even if she didn’t actually get a candy bar.