“Okay, hold on,” Masters said. “I’m going to use my special legionnaire skills. Watch.”
Prisma stood transfixed as the handsome young legionnaire stealthily moved back down the corridor as though he were infiltrating some dangerous enemy base. He snuck up right behind a very tall legionnaire and opened a pouch on the man’s belt. He pulled out a brand new chocolate bar, turned to face Prisma, and gave her a thumbs-up.
She gave a thumbs-up in reply, and felt a wide smile break out across her face.
The legionnaire began to move back toward her, candy bar in hand.
“Excuse me, young miss,” Crash said from inside the room. “But what is happening outside?”
Prisma turned to face her bot. “You were right. He’s nice.”
“This is very welcome news, young miss. I have grown tired of so much roughness in our travels. It will be refreshing to meet someone friendly.”
Masters was still maintaining his stealthy squat-walk. “Who’re you talking to in there, Prisma? Is it a friend? I only have the one candy bar…”
“It’s Crash,” Prisma answered cheerfully. “But don’t worry. He doesn’t eat.”
The war bot stepped out into the hallway, towering behind Prisma.
“Holy strokes!” Masters said, taking an awkward step backward and falling on his bottom. “Your friend is a war bot?”
“Only when Captain Keel makes him one,” Prisma said, looking up fondly at her bot companion. “Normally he’s just Crash.”
“It is my deep pleasure to meet you. I am KRS-88,” the bot said.
Masters stood up and handed Prisma the candy bar. She marveled at it, turning it over in her hands as if it were a priceless treasure. She removed its wrapper carefully, ceremoniously.
“It’s uh, nice to meet you too,” the legionnaire said to Crash. “You can call me—”
“Masters!” bellowed the voice of the tall legionnaire. “Did you swipe my choc-ration again?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Master shouted back without turning. He looked down at Prisma and smiled. “Quick! Eat it fast!”
Prisma didn’t need much encouragement. She chewed rapidly, taking bite after bite. It was delicious.
06
Captain Keel followed Chhun from the cockpit, through the corridor, and into the ship’s common area. He felt apprehensive the entire walk. It had been years since he’d last seen Chhun, Exo, Masters… and he didn’t know what to say or how to act. He had been Keel for so long, the thought of resuming the stiff, military posture he’d held as a Legion officer felt alien and oppressive.
He entered the common room to see that most of his erstwhile crew was already mixing with the legionnaires. All except Leenah, who must still be poring over every circuit, housing, and detail in the engine room. He didn’t recognize these men, though—except for Masters, who was sitting next to Prisma. Whatever he was saying to her, it was making the girl smile.
Closer by, Skrizz was chatting with a particularly large legionnaire. “Yeah, I wrestled a wobanki once,” the legionnaire was saying. “They’re pretty tough customers.” The man, who wore a beard that rivaled Major Owens and slicked his hair back, the sides shaved, looked over to Keel. “Pretty badass to have one as a co-pilot, though.”
“He’s not my co-pilot,” corrected Keel. “Ravi… ah, forget it.”
The large legionnaire and the wobanki returned to their discussion. Skrizz confidently asked the big legionnaire to continue his tale of fighting a wobanki. The catman’s posture carried a feline swagger of excessive pride.
“Well,” the leej said, “this one was MCR, so I had to break his neck.” The legionnaire held up two massive hands as if to demonstrate how he’d done it. “But the wobanki was a mean one, nearly twice and thick as you. Almost got through my armor with his claws until I snapped the life out of him.”
The big legionnaire broke out into a hearty laugh while Skrizz tucked his tail and shot a look at Keel. If Keel read that look correctly, it suggested he was both ashamed of what happened to his kinsman and hoping for an opportunity to try his own luck against the towering soldier. That’s all the wobanki really were—evolved hunters, always looking for the kill. It came naturally to them.
“Everybody,” Chhun said, raising his voice to get everyone’s attention. “This is Captain Ford, the original lead of Victory Kill Team, and a survivor of the Battle of Kublar. Call sign: Wraith. Wraith, this is Fish, Bear, Sticks, and you already know Masters.”
The legionnaires gave their greetings. Keel felt sheepish at being called by his real name. He felt exposed—the full reality of his past story was being revealed to people who had only ever known him as Captain Aeson Keel of the Indelible VI.
“Wait,” said Garret. “Your name is Ford? And you fought at freaking Kublar?”
“It’s… complicated,” Keel answered.
Skrizz purred out an intricate question.
“Yeah,” answered Keel, “that’s why I have the armor. I just modified it a bit.”
“You look older,” Masters said. “Hey, is this wobanki your co-pilot?”
“No!” Keel answered. “Why does everyone keep saying that? He was Rechs’s co-pilot. Not mine. He sheds.”
Skrizz shrugged and yowled in agreement.
Keel was still thinking about Masters’s comment. Of course he looked older. It had been years. The odd thing was, Masters or Chhun hadn’t aged a day. He decided to ask about it. “So how come you and Chhun look the same as the day I left?”
Masters stood up and came to Keel’s side, assuming the posture of a father ready to impart a lesson to his son. “One of the benefits of working on the Republic’s bleeding edge,” he said, sweeping his arm wide as if showing Keel the panoramic view of all the Republic had to offer. “About six months after you disappeared, all the kill teams started getting these twice-yearly shots. Regenerative tech. ’Cause as you know, being on a kill team is hard work, and too many guys were going down with injury and getting all cybernetic just to stay in the field. So we get these shots, and it’s like you don’t age. Maybe when you get back to Mercutio you can have the docs inject, like, forty at once and see if you can catch up.”
Keel shook his head. “Well, youngsters, make yourselves at home until Major Owens tells us where we’re going. Seems like you’ve already met everyone, but I suppose as captain I should offer some introductions. This is…” Keel looked at Garret and snapped his fingers as if trying to remember the name.
“Garret,” Prisma said, unhelpfully.
“I know,” Keel said. He pointed to the others. “And these are Skrizz, war bot—”
“Crash,” corrected Prisma.
Keel frowned and held a hand toward Prisma. “… and annoying little girl.”
“I like Prisma!” Masters said.
This made Prisma blush.
Masters looked down the hall that led to the engine rooms. “Who was the Endurian who came running through? Holy strokes was she shot!”
This comment seemed to make Prisma jealous, and Keel had to hide his smile behind his hand. “That was Leenah, the ship’s mechanic and temporary navigator.”
Masters gave a whistle. “Are you hooking up with her, Wraith? Because if you are,” he put his thumbs up, “nicely done. Really. I mean, if I knew that going into deep cover meant that I could go under the covers with a girl like that I’d—”
“Ahem.” Chhun cleared his throat and tilted his head toward Prisma.
“Oh,” Masters said, ducking his head sheepishly. “Right. Sorry, Prisma. Forget those last fifteen seconds.”
“Leenah is nice,” Prisma said. She gave Keel the evil eye. “She wouldn’t want to kiss someone like him!”
The legionnaires all broke out in laughter, and Prisma gave a satisfied smile.
Keel placed both hands on his chest. “I’m nice.”
“No, you’re not.”
“Yes, I am.”
“No you’re not!”
“Yes I am, I—” Keel looked up at the ceiling, frustrated with himself. “Why am I arguing with this kid again?”
The big legionnaire, the one Chhun had introduced as Bear, said, “So is Prisma your kid, or…?”
“No!” Keel and Prisma answered in unison.
“My father was named Kael Maydoon,” Prisma said, an affectation of dignity in her voice. “He was a hero, and he was murdered by Goth Sullus. I hired Tyrus Rechs to kill Goth Sullus and—”
“Whoa!” shouted one of the legionnaires. Pike. “What do you mean you hired Tyrus Rechs?”
Prisma smiled, happy at the attention this had gotten. “I paid a stinky old smuggler named Hogus to take me to Ackabar, and then I found Tyrus Rechs and told him what happened, and he agreed to kill Goth Sullus for me.”
The legionnaires looked at each other in wonder.
“Rechs has been the Republic’s top non-MCR target for years,” Chhun marveled. “Are you serious?”
“She’s not lying,” Keel said. “I was hunting Rechs down for a job, and that’s how Little Miss Sunshine came into my life.”
“Holy strokes, Ford,” Masters said, returning to his seat next to Prisma. “This is the most kick-ass—sorry—cool girl in the universe.”
Keel pinched the bridge of his nose. “She’s really not.”
“So you tracked Rechs down?” Chhun asked Keel. “Did you call it in? I mean, I know it’s more the House and Senate that had it in for the guy than the Legion, but that’s a really big fish!”
“Didn’t have time. We ended up sort of… teaming up.”
Prisma stood up defiantly. “That’s not how it happened. Tyrus Rechs hired you. You were his servant.”
Keel put his hands on his hips. “Pipe down or I’ll order your war bot to hold your mouth closed.” He turned back to Chhun. “Yeah, I was ready to leave him there and collect the bounty, call it in to Owens later on. But he made an offer that I had to take.”
“No. Way.” The words came from Fish.
Keel rubbed the back of his head. “Yeah. Rechs and I went after this Sullus guy together. Turns out Sullus is a pretty big warlord, even has his own little Legion, if you can believe it. We got into it on Tusca. Rechs didn’t make it out.”
“So he’s dead?” Chhun’s tone was that of an officer looking to file the proper reports. “Confirmed?”
Keel shrugged. “I saw him blow up in his own ship. Nuked the thing to help us escape, I guess. In reality the old codger almost killed us.”
“Man,” Masters said, shaking his head. “I can’t believe you hung out with the guy.”
Keel gave a lopsided grin. “Didn’t just hang out with him. I trapped him, got the draw on him, and then agreed to work with him on this Sullus problem for enough credits to allow us all to retire to an island somewhere.”
“You got the draw on Rechs?” Masters asked, his mouth agape. “Stop lying to me.”
Skrizz yammered that he had been there and saw it happen.
Keel found himself enjoying the conversation with his two old friends. And the three new faces, too. He didn’t really know them, but he liked them. They were all leejes—true leejes—and Keel felt comfortable around them. It was obvious that none of them had read the report he’d sent in to Owens. But then, why would they? They probably hadn’t seen any of his reports.
Which also meant they didn’t know the other things.
The lengths Keel had been forced to undertake—the people he’d had to get out of his way—in order to reach mission success. It had been them or him. That was how it had to be.
Chhun leaned against a bulkhead, his arms crossed and a smile on his face. “Never imagined either of us would see something crazier than Kublar and Pride of Ankalore, but you managed to do it, Wraith.”
“You don’t know the half of it.” Keel pursed his lips. He wanted to tell his friend more. Lao Pak and pirates. Bounties, corrupt Republic officials, legionnaire brute squads under the thumb of points to collect taxes. And Devers. He wanted to tell them about Devers. What he’d seen. What he’d almost done with Twenties’s own blaster rifle.
A sense of shame at his failure momentarily put a knot in his stomach. But then… would these leejes even have approved? Would they have welcomed the news that he, a Dark Ops agent, had assassinated a Republic admiral? That he would have executed the man after serving as his judge and jury? Keel couldn’t be sure. Maybe Chhun, and probably Masters. He couldn’t say about the other three. They weren’t there. On Kublar.
But there was one Dark Ops agent who Keel knew would have been glad to hear of it, had he been successful. And it occurred to Keel that he was nowhere to be seen. His stomach dropped again. “Hey, where’s Exo?”
“Gonna have to answer that one later,” Chhun said, motioning for his squad to form up. “Got an incoming comm chime from Major Owens.”
“He’s not dead, is he?”
Chhun shook his head. “Not that I’ve heard, no. Where’s that armory you said we could have a private briefing?”
Keel motioned for them to follow. “This way.”
Prisma got up to join the party.
“No, you stay here,” Keel said, taking the girl by the shoulders and pushing her back in her seat. He received a kick in the leg for his troubles.
“That kid is so awesome,” Masters said as the kill team departed down the corridor.
07
The kill team looked approvingly at the room Keel had led them into. It had once been one of the Indelible VI’s crew quarters, but had long ago been converted into an armory that rivaled—no, surpassed—what the legionnaires had at their disposal while on Republic destroyers. Blaster rifles, pistols, shotguns… all hung neatly on the walls, held in place by a localized electromagnetic field. The makes and manufacturers were from throughout the galaxy. Military-issue, planetary police, hunting rifles, Republic-approved home defense weapons modified to still be able to punch through legionnaire armor… it seemed as though Keel had squirreled away something for just about any situation.
Fish opened a storage locker stocked full of charge packs. “Man, I was expecting something like this. You could fully arm a few squads with what’s in here. Where are the SAB charge packs?”
Keel pointed to an impervisteel cabinet on the opposite wall. “Over there. Aeroprecision missiles are stored under this deck plate, if anyone needs those.”
“We didn’t bring a heavy loadout for this op,” Pike said. He paused to look at his partner. “Except for Bear, I mean.”
“Grab a launcher from the wall,” Keel said. “I have a feeling you’re gonna need it.”
Chhun silenced the others with a gesture. “Let’s load out later on. Major Owens is on comm to brief us on what’s coming. Ford, can you link the L-comm into the holos for this room?”
Keel nodded. “Yeah, Ravi—” He stopped himself, remembering that Ravi was still gone.
“Who’s Ravi?”
Keel shook his head. “Never mind.” He opened a central control panel and keyed in the relay to display in the armory, then stepped back to lean against a display case full of blaster pistols as the lights dimmed.
A holoprojected image of Major Owens appeared. “Gentlemen,” he said to the gathered legionnaires. “By now you’ve met or been reacquainted with Captain Ford. For those of you who weren’t on this kill team when we stopped the Pride of Ankalore from jumping straight into the House of Reason, Captain Ford—Wraith—was my team leader, the same position Captain Chhun holds now. We realized something in the aftermath of that mission: the standard procedure of the Legion sending in Dark Ops to clean up messes could only do so much. The ops just kept coming, and the opportunities to actually put a stop to something, instead of just bringing in payback, were growing fewer and farther between. Meanwhile the threats were getting bigger, as seen with the destruction of the Chiasm.”
The kill team stood still and waited for more. They’d heard this story from the team veterans plenty of times.
“I can tell you’re thinking you’ve heard all of this before,” Owens said. “Well here’s what you don’t know. That mission to blow up the House of Reason was made possible by Nether Ops. In fact, it was a Nether Ops scumsack who blew up the Chiasm and Camp Forge. I’m sure the schlep they convinced to murder thousands of Republic soldiers felt he was doing it for the greater good. But look around you. Things ain’t good. In fact, we’re on the brink of a galactic meltdown.”
Keel chewed the inside of his lip and wondered if something similar would ever be said about him. But… he’d found the dark thing at the edge of the galaxy. He’d given the intel that had provided the Legion with a chance to get a leg up. His choices—and they were always life or death—his choices were different.
They had to be.
“So what’s the target?” Chhun asked.
“Yeah,” Bear added, cracking his knuckles. “We gonna nab this Goth Sullus guy?”
Owens chewed a piece of gum loudly enough that the smacking could be heard over the comm. He looked to Keel. “I see you’ve been getting advance intelligence from Captain Ford. No. You are not going after Goth Sullus. Because you can’t. Because we don’t know exactly where he is, and because I have hope that you’ll make it through this mission alive. The odds of that go down if Sullus becomes our objective. Although, trust me, I’d love to have him. Dead or—scratch that—just dead.”
A small planet and even smaller moon appeared on the holodisplay.
“This,” Owens said, as the holoprojection rotated to give a full view of the system, “is Tarrago Prime and its moon.”
“Where the Kesselverks Shipyards are?” Fish said.
“Affirmative. A little after midnight, local system time, Goth Sullus launched a surprise attack on the system. They’re using tech very similar to Republic, right down to their own legionnaires. Similar, but different. We don’t know if it’s better, worse, or the same. But we do know that they attacked the moon and Fortress Omicron with small attack craft, and Republic-style destroyers opened fire on the Tarragon defense fleet.”
Sword of the Legion (Galaxy's Edge Book 5) Page 5
