by Lauren Dane
Andrei watched him with careful eyes. He wasn’t an idiot; he knew the giant blocking his escape was more than capable of felling him in one swipe if Andrei made to run. He also noted the man’s power.
Something underlined when he introduced himself. Gods above and below! This guy was the top guy of everything. What the fuck was he doing on Asphodel in a lockup cell with a delinquent?
He had some suspicions. “I don’t like men like that.”
Ellis paused and then snorted a laugh without much humor. “You all say that. Each time I hear it I’m torn between rage that you all have been so preyed upon your first assumption is that I’m out to bugger you, and amusement. I’m not after your bum, boy.”
“Then what? What do you want from me?” He loathed the small spark of hope this man had lit in his belly. Hope was weakness.
“Operative Haws.” Ellis spoke and a man—no, Andrei looked again at the male who’d stepped into the corridor—he’d be a man in a year or two, but he wasn’t much older than Andrei was.
Ellis, despite being as massive as he was, still managed to appear graceful as he rolled another smoke. Andrei didn’t know what their game was, but he was smart enough to listen. Just in case.
“Have you ever considered military service?” Ellis asked, lighting the hand-rolled smoke.
“How about I answer you when you’ve shared those with me?” Andrei tipped his chin toward the pouch.
Ellis’s face darkened a brief moment. “No. You’re too young. How about you answer me, or we can finish this right now?”
Andrei clicked his teeth, clenching his jaw. His mother had told him he had good intuition, and that intuition told him Ellis would simply walk out if Andrei kept silent. His gut also told him this could be something important.
So he gave up his words. “No.”
“Why not? Is the idea of a real bed, a job and some credits in your pocket so terribly unappealing to you?” Ellis waved a hand at the surroundings. “This is better?”
“It’s the same thing. I’m a prisoner either way.” He shrugged, nearly believing his reply.
“Is it, boy?” Gone was his name, and Andrei felt . . . bereft. Anger surged that he’d care. He preferred it to the sadness.
“What do you know about it? Sitting there with your soft hands and your medals. What do you know about struggling?”
Ellis’s mouth tightened and then curved into a rueful smile. “Ah, the hubris of the young to imagine they’re the only ones who understand. I suppose the answer is, it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter if I know what it’s like to be chained in a cell, beaten for trying to retain my humanity.”
It was the way he said it that broke through the anger. He snuck a look to the other one, standing, seemingly at ease on the other side of the bars. Deceiving. There was no ease in the coil of muscles and the quick sweep of his gaze around the area.
“Why is he here?”
Ellis didn’t bother looking back to the other soldier. “He’s got my back. It’s always good to have that. Do you?”
When Andrei didn’t answer, Ellis simply went on. “The question—the real question—is are you satisfied with this? Are you so lazy and without vision that you’d allow yourself to be guided toward a lifetime of stints in lockup and an early, probably violent death? If you are, just say so and I’ll be on my way. I have work to do.”
Andrei took a look at the man outside the bars.
He made eye contact and grew very still as the soldier took him in but remained silent. Andrei was off balance and feeling cornered. Anger and frustration, his diet it had seemed, filled his veins, making him feel trapped.
Which, he supposed, he was.
But he sure as seven hells had no plans to willingly enslave himself to the Federation.
“I can see by your face that you’re arguing with yourself.”
“Look, Comandante, I don’t know you. I don’t know why you’re here. I’m no soldier. I’m just—”
“Another kid in lockup for the fifth, seventh, thirteenth time.” The soldier outside the bars spoke quietly, intensely. “You planning to make a career out of that? That all you ever want to be?”
“What do you know about it?”
“Enough that I’m going to do you a favor you probably won’t believe you deserve. This is a dead end. There is nothing for you here. Nothing. Stop making excuses not to leave.”
“Tell me more,” Andrei said with a sigh, hope still a tiny ember in his belly.
Chapter 2
“We’ve got company,” Kenner all but snarled as he stared off across the yard.
Piper looked up from the fuel coupling that had nearly fried just the day before. They’d limped back, and she’d managed to land without any more damage. Storm season was upon them, they’d be grounded far more often, and she hated to go into it without a fat pile of credits to cushion any problems that might arise. Being down a bird would cause delays she would rather not have to afford. Thank the heavens her brother was such an amazing mechanic and could most likely fix it.
Four men had just come through the main gate. She recognized them easily enough as the Imperial people who’d been attempting to entice her into running goods over the line, into the Imperium.
“Imperial dogs,” he added.
Unease slithered through her.
She kept working. “Tell them I’ll be with them shortly. Let Eiriq know as well. I want some backup.”
Her twin hesitated, she knew, wanting to deal with this on his own. He was the one with more military training, he’d always been fond of reminding her. And then she could remind him that the last time she let him handle things it had ended in a seven-person fistfight and two days in lockup.
Instead, he exhaled slowly, wiping his hands. “Watch your step, Piper.”
He stalked off, leaving her to clean up and steady her nerves. She began to scent ozone and knew a storm would be coming. The sky above darkened, deepened, and she hurried along.
The heat rose from the ground in waves that battered her, stole her breath. All the recent storms so close together had left the air unsettled.
Soon, hot, blast-furnace air would send dust hurtling through the sky with so much force that it’d flay the flesh from bone in less than three minutes in some of the worst storms out in the Wastelands. Visibility would be next to nothing, and the electrical fields would rub against each other, bringing a terrible need to grind teeth along with the stench of an Asphodel windstorm.
Asphodel wasn’t for amateurs; that much was for certain. Just existing here meant a constant dance with the ’Verse itself.
For some reason, this appealed to Piper. The very act of living there and making a life in the dust and canyons had been one of defiance for as long as she could remember. Though, she could admit it became tiring just treading water year after year.
Certainly the increase in the thugs the Imperialists sent to the Edge over the last year or so disquieted their little family compound. They were not part of her life, nor did she want them to be. She may exist on the edge of the law, but she wasn’t a traitor.
She paused, looking over the group waiting for her near the front gates. There were four of them. Each looked exactly like an Imperialist spy sent here to smuggle something very bad back and forth across Imperialist/Federation lines. She did not need this. In fact, it offended her sensibilities, a truly rare occurrence.
“What the seven hells do they want anyway? I’ve said no three times now,” she said to Eiriq, who’d just joined her.
In the distance the winds kicked up, sending the seeds of the storm upward, giving birth to the beginnings of it. The static in the air rose, bringing the hair at the back of her neck to stand.
“Don’t know, but if we don’t get rid of them soon, we’ll be stuck with them until after the wind dies.” Eiriq motioned skyward.
She quickened her steps until she came to a halt before them. Giving them what they expected, a dirt farmer with no formal education
, she put her hands in her pockets and rocked back and forth on her heels. It would also save her the potentially troubling refusal of their hand clasp.
“Storm brewing down in the caldera. Time to get under some cover. What brings you around these parts?”
One of them eyed her, attempting to make her look away first. And if he’d been a predator instead of a bully it might have worked. Instead, she was a predator and he was the kind of man who routinely got killed because he stayed too long out in the canyons. A stupid, soft off-worlder who sneered at everyone he saw because he thought he was better than they were.
The scent, that burning, dry stench, began to build as the body of the storm took form in the distance, its fingers digging into the ground and the sky above. This one might be a big one, so she was doubly invested on getting rid of them. “I’m going to have to get my aircraft under cover and our camp locked down, so if we could get to the point, I’d appreciate it.”
“You’re speaking to a high minister on behalf of Supreme Commander Fardelle himself!” The pug-faced off-worlder squealed, offended to his toes.
“Asphodel is a Federation ’Verse. Fardelle isn’t anyone here.” Kenner stood with his arms crossed, anger clear on his face. She knew he’d been pushed far enough already. He didn’t wave a flag, but he was patriotic enough to be offended by the mere sight of these people. He’d done his two standard years in the military corps, plus one extension. Piper did her standard two years. He learned how to fix things, and she learned how to fly them. Oh, and he learned how to get into fights. At least he’d been strong enough to come out of it harder and more fierce than he’d been before.
Kenner had a wild streak. That’s why he and Andrei had been so close. She sighed inwardly. No time for fantasies in her head that would never come true. At that moment she needed to be sure her brother’s wild streak didn’t activate his big mouth and get himself in up to his neck with the Imperialists.
She stepped forward to get their focus off him.
“Time’s up, Minister. We’re on a timeline, and I have things to do. So what is it you’re here for?”
Minister Cheney, clearly the one in charge of his little entourage, cleared his throat, laying a hand on pug-face’s arm to quiet him.
“We’d like for you to think about our last offer again. We have to move this cargo, and we’d like it to be you doing the moving.”
Piper turned to Eiriq. “Get the birds under canopy and sealed.” She focused on the Imperium lackeys again. “I’ve said no several times. I don’t run that kind of cargo.”
“You’re a mercenary. You’re not supposed to want to know what the cargo is.” There was no mistaking his distaste in the sneer he tried to cover up.
“Exactly. And because I know whatever it is would not only be illegal but treasonous, I’m going to pass. There are others on Asphodel who have less compunction about such things. I suggest you seek them out. Now, if you’ll excuse me, the storm is airborne, and you have a ways to go before you can get back to town.”
She turned, stalking away. Trusting her people to cut anyone down who moved against her.
The highest ranking minister called out to her, “Ms. Roundtree, your cooperation in this matter would be looked on very kindly by my superiors.”
“We don’t have the same bosses. Now, get your ass off my land and back to town where you’ll be safe,” she called back over her shoulder.
He ran toward her, taking her arm. Even over the static-laced hum of the gathering storm she heard the click of weapon safeties being thumbed off. She was at least a foot shorter, but if he thought he could take her with a dozen weapons trained on him and overcome her righteous anger, he was dead wrong. And she’d show him in person and up close.
She kept her muscles easy as she showed him her teeth. “I advise you to remove your hand from my arm. Now. Before my people feel like you’re threatening me.”
He must have heard the promise of retribution well enough; he let go and stepped back. “Be reasonable. You’ve run goods across the line before. I know this for a fact. If it’s a matter of credits, we can arrange for that. Or to get rid of your competition as a way of saying thank you.”
“Yes. Medicine. Food and other goods that at best helped people and at worst were morally neutral. I’m not dim, you know. Four Imperial higher-ups show up multiple times and ask me to run through a back channel private portal? That’s not food. Or medicine or shoes. You want me to run something not morally neutral into Imperialist territory, and I’m not going to do that. I’ve said no, and I’ve said it nicely. You’re wearing out your welcome, Minister. Next time I won’t have any patience left.”
“This coy act isn’t serving you. I don’t want to be here any more than you want me to be. But I can’t leave until we agree to terms, and your sudden attack of morality is tedious and wearing very thin.”
She lowered her goggles as the dust began to kick up. “Since neither of us wants you here, take that as a message and go. You’re standing here in my yard attempting to induce me to betray my own government. I don’t like that much, and I especially don’t like it after I’ve said no so many times.”
“You’ll come around to my way of thinking soon enough. And you’ll be sorry you waited.”
“It’s time for you to go now. We’re locking down, and anyone not authorized to be here would be shot on sight.”
She turned her back again and stalked away, almost wanting him to do something that would free her to punch him in the face a time or two.
Jumping into the storm preparations, Piper let the anger burn through her muscles as she covered the copter and the zipper, taking extra care to seal them tight against the grit that could kill the engines.
The sky had deepened to the color of the inside of a ripe melon. Electricity sparkled across the atmosphere as the storm began to move. The fine hairs on her arms stood. The desolate background of pale gray cliffs only made it more eerily beautiful. In a short while, visibility would be so poor the cliffs would be gone.
“He’s not going to take no for an answer,” Kenner said from the doorway, tearing her from the view. “Not without a hard physical lesson.”
“Maybe not even then. They’re up to something. More than their usual weapon-running.”
They locked the ties down, rechecking the seals on the shelters holding the vehicles and gear before heading back toward the houses scattered around the compound. Even a small bit of dust messed with the gears and moving parts, shortening the lifetime of her gear, and she didn’t like that at all.
She took one last look, satisfied that all her people had taken cover, before heading into her own house.
Her older brother, Taryn, looked up as they entered. “I think whatever’s going on out there could bear some investigation. If we had some knowledge about what they were doing, we’d have something to use as leverage to keep them off our backs.”
She moved to join the others, pulling shutters down, sealing the windows and doors.
Dim coolness settled in around them. Piper did a mental count, making sure her household was all accounted for.
“Or, we could turn them in to the authorities and get them out of here.” Whereas she and Kenner handled all operations, Eiriq was in charge there at the compound. Responsible for all their security. Sort of the mayor and the polis at the same time.
“Just got confirmation from Bird. Says the Imperialists got into the main portal lodging just as the city gates were closing.” Taryn dropped into a chair at the table.
Kenner looked up from his place in front of the data screen. “Given the speed of the wind out there and the readings, I’d say the storm will be here in less than a quarter of this hour.”
Piper hoped it passed quickly so she could move some merchandise.
“May as well prepare a meal while we’re inside. I went on a water run early this morning. Can you grab some?” She looked to Eiriq’s wife, Lune, who nodded, turning in a shimmer of beads, sparkles and t
he clink of her bracelets.
After washing up again, Piper went into the kitchen and began to cut the fruit, placing it on a tray as she spoke. “I don’t like this at all. They’re hanging around, and only trouble will come from the situation. After the drama from Parron, all those people dead, the Imperium is behind it, and I don’t want any part.”
“What I’m hearing from people on the other side is there’s a total lockdown. Restrictions on travel. Information is at a premium. People tossed in lockup, or worse, just disappearing. Things are getting worse by the moment.” Kenner spoke from his place on the other side of the room.
They were. All her life she’d generally ignored the government, and as long as her crimes remained petty, they left her alone right back. But the tensions of the last two standard years, all the drama and the treason, had changed that. She’d had to confront all the wrongdoing of her government and come to respect the way it had, in turn, dealt with the traitors.
She preferred to do business and not engage in any hostility with others, but she would always be on the right side of any fight against her people. She was smart enough to know that even the backwaters of the Federation ’Verses were better than the Imperium.
The time was quickly ending when she could simply run her cargo and collect her credits. “The scent of blood is already in the air.”
Lune put the water on to boil while Kenner set the table.
“What do you mean?” Taryn asked.
“They’ve drawn blood. The Imperium’s attacks on its own people are bad enough, but they’ve killed Federation citizens here on Federation soil. Lyons won’t stand for that. We’re in a bad spot, and I’m not sure there’s going to be a way out of it without a war.”
The memories of that were fresh enough. Varhana, the famous battle where the Federation had pushed back an assault by the Imperium and won the war, was only a generation old.
She didn’t want that for her people. She’d reached the end of any time when she could pretend to ignore the situation. It was time to act.
