A Hero for the Empire: The Dragon's Bidding, Book 1

by Christina Westcott

  An augie. And not hired muscle like the one she’d faced on Rainbow. Everything about him warned he was as much a professional as her. The black uniform sported knife sharp creases and rows of bright medals. His boots gleamed. The eyes that studied her were the color of a gun barrel and as emotionless. No anger, no pleasure, killing her was just part of the job. He moved with the fluid grace of a hunter as he matched her restless shifting, always positioning himself between her and the man at the gunship.

  That would be his charge, the person he was ordered to protect at all cost. Augies at the top of their game like this one weren’t assigned to simple field personnel. Only high value officers and executives warranted this kind of protection. Or the Director of the Department of Internal Security. Fitz fought the urge to flicker her gaze toward the other man to confirm the suspicion growing in her mind, but she knew taking her eyes off the augie for even that fraction of a second would give him the opportunity he needed.

  She thought-clicked on her self-destruct function, entering her access code and letting the command hang in cyberspace, waiting to be triggered. Once past the augie, she only had to get close to the gunship to activate it, then the secondary explosion of its fuel going up would wipe out both Hiruko and any plans the Empire had for this planet.

  She eased to her left, trying to get an opening, a clear path around her adversary, but he stayed with her like they were bound together by an invisible gravitational attraction. In speed and strength, they were evenly matched, but he out massed her by forty kilos and had a longer reach, giving him the advantage.

  He charged. Fitz darted out of the way, thrusting out a leg, tripping him. A spinning kick sent the unbalanced man staggering. Pressing her advantage, she launched another blow but he was ready for this one, grabbed her foot and twisted. She crashed down face first. Clods of dirt and gravel filled her mouth. A boot slashed toward her head but she rolled, taking the blow on her shoulder. Her arm went numb all the way to her fingertips. He landed another kick on her ribs, lifting her and throwing her back in a sprawl.

  As she staggered up, a wall of muscle moving at hyperkinetic speed hit her, his fist snapping her head around. A blow to her stomach folded her up, gasping for air. He drove his knee into her chin, flipping her onto her back. She rolled to her knees, spitting blood and fighting to force her diaphragm to move air again. Her vision dimmed to gray, shot through with whirling lights. Her ears rang. She couldn’t take much more of this, even her rage at Wolf’s death couldn’t carry her through this fight.

  The black form blurred forward. Her addled senses recognized his foot just as his kick picked her up, sending her summersaulting. She hit the ground in a spray of dirt and gravel, tumbled and crashed into a body, driving a strangled gasp of pain from it.

  “Fitz…” Wolf’s voice rasped, prompting a spasm of coughing. He struggled onto his side, bringing his knees to his chest. His hand reached out, trying to clutch hers she thought, but instead he pushed her fingers away and pawed the top of his boot. Steel glinted as he worried the knife free. She covered his hand with hers, helping free the blade. He held her gaze, then nodded, closing his eyes. His head dropped back.

  She palmed the dagger, holding it against her forearm. Overriding the safeties on her pharmacopeia, she dumped all the stims, pain killers and adrenalin that remained in her reservoirs into her bloodstream. A jolt like that could kill her, but if she couldn’t stay on her feet, she was dead anyway.

  Her head roared, pounding in time to her racing heart. The earth beneath her swayed, the sky tilting drunkenly. She shook her head as she staggered to her feet. Intoxicated on the cocktail of drugs boiling through her system, every movement accelerated, every detail sharpened. For the first time, she saw emotion flicker across the augie’s face, a half-smile, perhaps at her pitiful performance, but when the glint of steel appeared in her hand, it faded as he realized the threat.

  Fitz dived between his legs, slashing out with the knife, hamstringing him. He collapsed, pinning her beneath his weight. She struggled out from under him and raced toward the gunship. Only a few seconds more and it would be over, but her accelerated senses would give her time to watch Hiruko as he realized the bill for his treachery had come due.

  Her betrayer cowered behind the thin, dark-clad man who only raised his arm and pointed a small handheld device at her.

  The world crashed to a stop. Blind, deaf and paralyzed, her lungs refusing to move air. She collapsed to the ground, limbs twitching spasmodically as a storm raged inside her skull. This sensation had grown all too familiar recently. A full power shut down. None of the Imperials had gotten close enough to her to pull her spike and yet she’d been disarmed.

  Troopers swarmed her, yanking her to her feet and twisting her arms up behind her back until she thought her shoulders would dislocate. She blinked grit out of her eyes, trying to make sense of the situation with the dull and murky perception of a Normal. The slender man smiled, confirming her suspicion on his identity. His mouth appeared much too wide for his narrow face, his teeth too prominent, giving him the look of some deep sea predator. She’d met him once before, and by her way of thinking, that had been one time too many.

  Janos Tritico.

  The Director of DIS displayed the small module on his out stretched hand. “Commander FitzWarren, how do you like my newest toy from CyberOps? As long as I have an individual’s unique identification code, it allows me to fry any augie’s spike.”

  He slipped the devise into his jacket pocket. “I’m amazed the two of you made it this far, but then my old friend Wolf is quite resourceful. Allowing the two of you to team up presents a complication that I can’t afford at the present time.” He turned to Hiruko. “Kill her.”

  A fluting undulation interrupted him. Bile rose in Fitz’s throat as the burning cockroach stench of Tzraka washed over her. The creature scuttled to Tritico’s side, its chitinous legs clicking and scrabbling against the ground. The soldiers holding her cringed back, dragging her with them. The bug warbled again. Head cocked, the spy master listened attentively.

  “Of course, you’re right,” he said, cutting his eyes sideways to regard her. “My associate has suggested a better option. Considering you killed two of my drones, it seems only fitting that you should help to replace them. We’ve had some trouble securing local women—alive anyway. Both my bug wranglers and the drones are finding that a breeder can be quite snappish when she’s carrying a load of eggs. They’ll be pleased to learn I’ve located a suitable incubator. You will have the honor of being the surrogate mother for the next generation of our shock troops. Of course, that may be of little consolation to you while she implants her eggs. I’m told the uterus provides an ideal environment for the nymphs to develop in. Since it had been some time since we’ve found a suitable host, the breeder is carrying a great deal of eggs. I’m afraid the process could take quite some time, my dear.”

  Fitz’s stomach convulsed. Panic threatened to freeze her thoughts, but she pushed back against the revulsion. She had to maintain iron control, watching for any opportunity. If she couldn’t escape, then she’d force them to kill her. Her body would never be used to generate more of those monsters. She took one last look at Wolf.

  Hiruko’s gaze followed hers. “What do we do about him? I say we burn that son of a bitch, now. It’s too dangerous to leave him alive.”

  Tritico walked toward the body. “No, I think I’ve devised a better use for him. He’s much more valuable to me alive and bleeding. I’m tired of Von Drager always harassing me for vials of blood. Perhaps his experiments will progress more quickly with the unlimited source of raw material that my old friend’s body can supply.”

  Hiruko hesitated before following the spy master.

  Wolf’s arm darted out, reaching for the slug thrower, but Tritico was quicker. He stomped down on Wolf’s hand before he could reach the gun.

  “You’re recuperating
entirely too quickly.” Tritico picked up the pistol and kicked Wolf in the side, flipping his body. A small silver case flew out of the mercenary’s hand, spilling its contents.

  Fitz struggled against her captors, screaming obscenities until her throat felt like she’d gargled with knives.

  Tritico tossed the slug thrower to Hiruko. “Load him in the Vimana and for Yig’s sake, if he starts moving around, just shoot him again.”

  Hiruko tucked the weapon in his belt, grabbed Wolf’s jacket and dragged him toward the gunship. Tritico knelt to study the small case. It appeared to be the type of container battlefield med-techs carried pre-loaded injectors in. As he gathered up its spilled contents, the creepy smile reappeared.

  “Perhaps Von Drager was correct and Youngblood’s doctor friend has progressed much further in her research than we originally surmised. This appears to be some kind of super-nutrient solution to fuel the symbiont’s rapid repair process, so it doesn’t have to steal what it needs from the body’s reserves. Von Drager will be able to analyze these samples and create our own version of it.” Tritico tucked the case in his pocket.

  Hiruko dumped the limp body in the gunship, but Fitz saw Wolf’s head lift slightly, his eyes filled with regret. He mouthed the words ‘I’m sorry’ as if he’d been the one to drag them on this disastrous adventure.

  As he climbed aboard, Tritico gestured toward Lizzy. “Blow that thing up before you leave. I don’t want the locals getting their hands on any of its technology. After you’ve gotten our guest settled in the breeding pit, meet me back at the base.”

  The Vimana lifted, climbing out to the northeast.

  The Imperial troops began picking up their dead and wounded, carrying them to the transport. They gave the Tzraka a wide berth as it scuttled up the rear boarding ramp into the ship’s hold.

  “Rig some charges on that ship,” Hiruko ordered one of the men holding Fitz.

  The pressure on her shoulder eased as the man stepped away. She had only an instant to hit them, so hard and fast that they’d have no choice but to kill her. Then it would be over, for her at least, but the thought of Wolf in Tritico’s hands felt like a knife in her gut. She tensed as Hiruko reached for her.

  “Boss Lady. As soon as that gunship is out of sight, be ready.”

  The cat’s mental shout startled her, distracting her so that she missed her single opportunity. Hiruko seized her arm, dragging her toward the transport.

  Lizzy’s dorsal laser opened up on the Imperial ship, slicing the fuselage open from nose to stern. Explosions lit the night, hurling debris skyward to fall back in burning rain. The Tzraka screeched as flames engulfed the cargo hold.

  Fitz kicked out, tangling the legs of the man on her left, tripping him. He pulled her down as he fell, wrenching her arm from Hiruko’s grasp. She landed atop him, driving her knees into his stomach, the blow doubling him up. A savage two-fisted strike under the chin snapped his head back at an impossible angle. She scrambled to her feet, turning as Hiruko swung the barrel of the slug thrower around. Without her augmented speed she wouldn’t be able to reach him before he put a round in her.

  Ten kilos of screaming cat crashed into Hiruko’s arm. The shot went wide as Jumper clamped his teeth on the assassin’s wrist and savaged it, knocking the weapon from his hand. Fitz dived for it and snatched it out of the dirt. Her hands shook, and she had to level the pistol in a two-handed grip. Hiruko had the cat by the scruff of the neck, shaking him, trying to rip him off his mauled arm, but Jumper clung on with ferocious determination.

  “Jumper, to me,” Fitz ordered.

  The cat wriggled out of the man’s grip and sprang away, sprinting to her side. He crouched panting, ears flat against his skull, bloody teeth bared. Behind them, power packs exploded like firecrackers inside the transport and the night smelled of hot metal, melted plastic and burning bug.

  Jumper hissed. “Kill him, kill him now. He hurt my person. He doesn’t deserve to live another second.”

  Hiruko’s dark eyes searched their flame-lit surroundings. The third man. With her brain so drug-addled, she’d forgotten about the trooper who’d gone to set the charges around Lizzy. He could have her in his sights now. She tried to scan the flickering darkness, but without her augs, her vision was no better than a Normal’s. Hiruko moved, reaching behind his back to draw out a tiny assassin’s pistol.

  Fitz fired twice, the slug thrower’s kick brutal against her unaugmented arms. The force of the impact tossed Hiruko’s body back several meters. She edged closer, weapon pointed at him. Too many impossible things had happened tonight. For all she knew, he might shrug off his wounds and rise up like some zombie from an old horror tri-D. And then there was the third soldier.

  Jeferi Hiruko would not be getting up again. Hatred still shown in his eyes, even as the light began to fade.

  Brightness flared behind her. She spun, weapon up, but it was only the security lamps coming on inside Lizzy’s hold. The airlock stood open, the ramp down, promising safety inside. Jumper outran her as they raced for that sanctuary. As she reached the ship, Fitz found the third soldier.

  He’d been at the rear of the ship setting the explosives when Lizzy dropped the boarding ramp to let Jumper charge out. His crushed remains were the final insult to her already traumatized stomach, and she sunk to her knees, retching until long after she’d emptied it. She clawed her way into the cargo hold and collapsed on the floor. The world spun, her body shook, and tears streaming down her grimy face.

  Her mind slipped away into nothingness.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  “Wake up, Boss Lady.”

  A rough tongue scraped her cheek. Fitz opened her eyes and regretted it, blinking against the brightness. The familiarity of the ship’s cargo hold surrounded her, its ramp up and pressure door sealed.

  She sat up, Wolf’s slug thrower still clutched in her blood-splattered hand. “Lizzy, report.”

  “The ship is secure, Commander. And I ascertain no immediate threats.” The voice came from a comm unit near the door. “You should get something to eat, a shower and then a few hours of rest.”

  “No time. I have to find Wolf.” Fitz staggered to her feet.

  “You won’t do him any good if you collapse from exhaustion.”

  “Were you able to track that gunship?” Fitz braced her hand against the bulkhead as she picked her way toward the living quarters.

  “I’m afraid not, Commander. Once it passed beyond that mountain range, I lost track of it. My scanners are still offline and even when they’re repaired, the terrain is going to play havoc with communications and surveillance. Without planetary-based repeater stations or satellites, these mountains are going to make coverage spotty. However, there may be another way to discover its destination. The flight data recorder of that transport will retain all the information from its last few trips, and I should be able to extrapolate their base’s location from that.

  Fitz turned around. “I’ll go pull the black box.”

  “You will not,” Lizzy said with a mother-like authority. “You are going to get some food in your stomach and then go to bed. First light tomorrow is soon enough to retrieve the unit.”

  Since her legs threatened to dump her on the decking, Fitz decided not to argue. A wave of weariness washed over her, conspiring with the pain to deny her control over every muscle, joint and nerve. The stairs to the top deck loomed over her like a sheer cliff. She sunk to her knees on the first tread, tried to dial up a hit of painkiller and cursed as she remembered that she was once again offline. The spare vial of propalvanquilanon Ski had given her awaited in sickbay, but first she had to scale this metal mountain. She crawled, stopping often to catch her breath and take the weight off her shaking arms and legs. Whenever the cat thought she’d rested long enough, he’d urge her back into motion with a head butt or the tap of a paw.

  When she reached s
ickbay, she manually injected a double dose of painkiller, and by the time she staggered into her quarters, the agony had receded to a manageable ache. A Medusan creature stared back at her from the mirror in the head, its serpentine curls fouled with dirt and dead vegetation. Red-rimmed eyes squinted from a filthy, blood-spattered visage, and she shuddered, remembering whose blood that was. Her jacket was caked and sticky with the stuff. She stripped it off and jammed it in the auto-valet. Her scraped and split knuckles stung from the soap as she scrubbed her hands and face. Ugly dark blotches had already begun to appear on her arms.

  She almost made it to her bed before her legs gave out and she slid down the wall into a heap on the floor. Jumper sat beside her and began cleaning his soiled white paws.

  “He’s still alive, isn’t he?” she asked.

  “Yeah.” The cat looked up from his grooming.

  “Secrets, he said. Secrets he’d tell me when we got back to the ship.” She snorted and the movement sparked a tight band of pain around her ribs. “I thought he was talking about his augmentations, but he wasn’t, was he? There’s a whole lot more to it. Like what happened out there tonight. Dammit, Jumper. We’d grown so close in the past few days. Why couldn’t he tell me?”

  “Fear, habit? I don’t know. He doesn’t trust easily. For years, he’s had to hide what he is. I guess it’s just become a way of life. Only his closest friends know the truth and only a few of them have heard the entire story. I probably know as much as anyone because I’ve overheard him talking to Doc Ski. I hear a lot of things ’cause people forget I’m not just a cat.”

  Jumper sighed, his green eyes regarding her. “He’ll probably be pissed at me for telling you this much, but I think you deserve to know the truth. There was this secret experiment near the end of the Tzraka War. The Empire was getting its head handed to it by the bugs. The brass wanted to find a way to speed up recovery time on their wounded and get them back out to the front lines. This goof-ball doctor named Lazzinair convinced the Emperor he had the answer to the problem. It turned out to be a disaster. A lot of people died, not from their wounds, but from the experiment itself. Only a handful survived.”