“Security! Security! Keep your eyes open!”
Raleigh caught sight of a flashing light on his slate under the communications application. He selected it and found a local channel broadcasting in UHF. The frequency wasn’t one of his, but it was clearly transmitting powerfully from short-range.
“…MinSha requesting a cease fire and resolution of hostilities. This is Psymrr of the MinSha requesting a cease fire and resolution of hostilities.”
Raleigh grinned. “This is the commander of Reilly’s Raiders. Agreed. Bring your leadership team and meet me in the center of your compound. You have two minutes to comply, or I’ll destroy this compound from altitude.”
“Acknowledged. Two minutes.”
Raleigh swung open the hatch of the command skiff. He looked at Angelus. “You know the drill. Anything happens to me, you destroy everything with prejudice.”
Angelus pushed up her faceplate and squinted at him. “I thought that was our mission, anyway.”
Raleigh chuckled. “Yeah. But, don’t you want to find out what they’re doing here? What they’re looking for? What they might be hiding?”
Angelus nodded, a slow smile creasing her features. “Smells like credits to me.”
Raleigh made a clicking sound and pointed at her with the fingers of his right hand, mimicking a gun. “That’s what I keep you around for, Angelus. Keep an eye on the CASPers. Any of them screw around before I tell them to leave their posts, you get their attention real fast, huh?”
Angelus swung her faceplate down. “Locked and loaded, Boss.”
Raleigh grinned as he stood up on the skiff’s seat and looked at the MinSha compound, the moist air of dusk cool enough to send an ecstatic shiver down his sweaty back. The hexagonal layout was typical of the MinSha, but the thick composite materials looked to be anything but typical. They’d taken an impressive amount of punishment for the last several hours, only buckling under direct engagement from above. He looked up and heard, but could not see, his flyers maintaining an orbit above the smoking compound. The breeze wafted some of the smoke across the skiff, and he smelled something like gunpowder’s sulfurous scent, mixed with burning plastics and rubber. Electrical conduits popped and sparked at the point of the breach. The v-shaped opening was at least ten meters wide at the bottom and filled with rubble. Cargo containers and storage units lay askew across the compound. On the far walls, Raleigh saw his CASPers maintaining security and smiled. Placed perfectly at thirty-meter intervals, their heavy weapons trained on the compound or facing into the jungle to provide external security, they’d deployed as well as they ever had.
He laughed and stepped off the skiff’s turret onto the wide, rectangular hull. In the eyes of the Mercenary Guild, the Raiders were little more than pirates. They were Humans who were willing to do anything for credits. Pillaging and plundering were as easy as mowing down an enemy force or civilian resistance. They didn’t care. What set them apart, though, was that their pursuit of credits had no boundaries. None of them were squeamish. None of them were weak. They’d do what they needed to do or find work elsewhere.
Even Tara Mason.
He snorted. That bitch will learn her place and get the job done, or Oso will kill her.
Raleigh pushed away the thoughts as he watched an interior door slide open, and a contingent of five MinSha pranced into the darkening compound. Just as he noticed the gathering darkness, several banks of lights came on across the compound’s walls. The effect was near-daylight, without the glare he’d expected. The MinSha’s architectural and structural expertise showed in many ways. It would be a shame to destroy the compound. Making it a hideout, or storage facility, seemed a much better alternative. Maybe his own pirate lair? The possibilities were endless.
Raleigh ran a hand through his hair and tried to focus the mania. There were so many thoughts and adrenaline-fueled ideas crashing through his head, he could barely contain his glee. The MinSha walked forward, and he studied them. The leader was obvious. Psymrr walked in the center of the group, a silver chevron on his iridescent blue chiton. Raleigh knew it was the MinSha badge of leadership, and it marked their leader as a very clear target. Behind him were two guards of some type. They walked behind them with their heads moving side to side as if taking stock of the situation. The other two MinSha, the ones at Psymrr’s shoulders, were undoubtedly some type of officials. Raleigh didn’t care, nor would it matter who they were. He leapt off the hull and dropped a meter to the ground, landing lightly on the balls of his feet.
The delegation sighted him and pranced toward him on their mantis-like legs. They slowed at the exact middle of the compound, just as he thought they would. MinSha never gave up easily. He made eye contact with Psymrr and strode toward the five MinSha confidently. Alone, with only his CASPers providing overwatch, he was anything but nervous. In the strange shadows from the MinSha lighting, his eyes wandered over the alien machinery. Some looked like drills and dredging equipment. Some looked like nothing he’d ever seen. Whatever they were doing, they’d come prepared for any eventuality. That made them interesting. His curiosity was piqued. The contract would be carried out, but only after he’d exhausted every opportunity to get a few credits on the side. His employers, in this case the Mercenary Guild, saw that as a small price to pay for getting their dirty deeds done quickly.
Raleigh sauntered up to the MinSha, his hands nearly limp at his sides. The MinSha leader dipped his head slightly as he approached. Raleigh nodded. “Psymrr. Raleigh Reilly.”
“Commander Reilly,” Psymrr said. “Allow me to introduce special delegates Errt and Voon. With me, they constitute the leadership of this peaceful mission.”
Raleigh nodded, a bit amused, at the delegates and turned his attention back to Psymrr. “Just what is your mission, Psymrr?”
“May I ask what your mission is?” The MinSha’s voice was low and firm. “Who would pay you to attack a scientific mission on an unclaimed world?”
Raleigh smirked. “My employer, that’s who.”
“And who is your employer, Commander?”
“None of your fucking business, Psymrr. How about you tell me what you’re doing here?”
“This is a scientific mission. You’ve unlawfully destroyed two MinSha settlements, and I demand to know why.”
Raleigh felt the easy smile on his face flicker. Diplomacy, especially when forced, could only hold for so long. “My employer wants this world cleared and prepared for operations. What those might be, I don’t know. I am to remove all sentient species from this planet. From what I can see, that’s you and your merry band. I’m authorized to kill you all. The only reason I haven’t is because I’m curious about what you’re doing here. Now, can we get down to business, Psymrr?”
“Absolutely not!” Psymrr blurted. “This is highly irregular! You cannot simply—”
Raleigh reached for his pistol, drew it effortlessly, and brought its barrel up to the MinSha’s narrow chest. He fired twice, and the MinSha politician staggered and fell backward. The two special delegates squealed and jumped backward. One of the guards stepped forward and the other, the one to Raleigh’s right, reached out a clawed hand and held his compatriot back.
Now, I know who’s next in charge.
Raleigh swung the pistol toward the guard. “Who are you?”
“Tirr. I am captain of the guard, Commander.”
Raleigh grinned. “How many guards do you have?”
“Twelve remaining. Four are wounded, and six were killed earlier today. I’d prefer to lose no more.” The MinSha’s ruby eyes did not waver, and his voice was steady. “Psymrr was correct; this is a scientific mission. Our task is to identify and synthesize medicinal herbs found on this planet, but not elsewhere, that will bolster the MinSha immune system. We discovered them by accident twenty years ago, but this is the first time we have mounted an expedition of this type. The Merchant Guild is aware of and is financing this effort, at least partially.”
Raleigh nodded but men
tally waved the comments away. Nothing mattered except the end result. “What is this medicinal herb? Is it something valuable?”
Tirr shrugged. “I cannot say, Commander. I’m a soldier.”
“Bullshit.” Raleigh laughed. “You know exactly what I mean, Tirr. Soldier or not, you’re the captain of the guard because you are trusted. That means, unless you want to end up like your beloved leader,” Raleigh jerked his head toward the dead MinSha sprawled on the compound decking, “you’ll answer my questions.”
“We haven’t been able to effectively synthesize the herb. We were prepared to complete the expedition, until roughly three weeks ago,” Tirr said.
“What happened then?”
Tirr paused and didn’t speak for a moment. “Perhaps it is best to show you.”
Raleigh raised an eyebrow. “Alone? Not on your life, Tirr.”
“Of course not,” Tirr said. “My duties are clear in this situation, Commander. This station yields to your forces. I will ensure everything is turned over to you, if you will spare our people.”
Raleigh nodded. “I’ll take it under consideration.”
Tirr chirped in his native language. A moment later, several doors opened and unarmed MinSha entered the central compound. “There are one hundred and forty-seven MinSha alive in this compound, Commander. Under the Articles of War, I ask for their protection as non-combatants if we surrender our arms and our facility to your forces.”
A consideration of non-combatants was an easy way out, but not what the guild seemed to want. They wanted a complete bloodletting. Something wasn’t right, and it smelled like a lot of money. That was too good to pass up. Until his soldiers found out what was so damned important to the MinSha, he could string them along with promises and white lies. They were bugs, after all, and wouldn’t know the difference.
“Fine. Your people are non-combatants,” Raleigh said, “however, also under the Articles of War, they’ll be held here until my forces have completed a thorough investigation of your compound, your proceedings, and all findings.”
Tirr nodded. “Of course, Commander. We do ask for permission to gather water and food from the surrounding terrain.”
“As necessary and under escort, I approve.” Raleigh bit the inside of his lip. “Anything else?”
Tirr shook his head. “Forgive me, Commander. Without a Peacemaker, it is necessary for us to try and make provisions for our citizens.”
Raleigh leaned forward and lowered his voice. “And your Peacemaker?”
“Missing and presumed dead in your initial attack,” Tirr replied, “hence my questions.”
Missing! Presumed dead! Raleigh lowered his pistol and holstered it to keep from waving it around if the laughter burst from his chest. Killing a Peacemaker wasn’t normally something to cheer. Of all the guilds, the most protective of their own was undoubtedly the Peacemakers, but the one the MinSha relied upon was a Human and was known to all the mercenary companies from Earth. Some of them respected Jessica Francis and the position she’d ascended to, whether the guild had helped her or not. Some of them loathed her presence, seeing it as a capitulation to the Union. Others believed her to be a traitor to Humans. Raleigh took it a step further. Had he known she’d be here, he’d have accepted the mission for half the price. The only thing that would make it better would be the guild sending him to kill her father, too. He swallowed his glee.
“Very well,” he replied. “Surrender your arms and submit your facility to an inspection by my forces, immediately.”
Tirr nodded. “Yes, Commander. You are undoubtedly aware we must report the Peacemaker’s condition? Will you relinquish control of the electromagnetic spectrum?”
Raleigh shook his head. “No, I will not. Until you show me what you’re doing here, nothing gets in or out, especially the death of a traitor to Earth. As much as I want her father, that sonuvabitch, to know I was the one who killed his daughter, nobody tells anyone anything until I figure out what’s going on here. You need to show me something good. Fast.”
* * * * *
Chapter Twelve
Aboard the Quiet Storm
Hyperspace
Selector Hak-Chet read the guild’s daily intelligence summary then realized he’d painfully held his breath for more than two minutes. Most of the briefing was the standard daily news downloaded before their jump. The Cartography Guild’s reported progress on new gates in the Cimaron region was woefully inaccurate, according to the Peacemaker Guild’s sources. Likewise, the news the Merchant Guild was trying to close a loophole allowing the purchase of scrapped materials for fractions of a credit per kilogram was wrong. The damned mercenaries had run the black market for parts and ammunition for more than two hundred years. Everyone knew they took the junk no one wanted to test and develop new, lethal technologies. They financed their efforts through the resale of somewhat good components to new mercenary units—mostly Human ones.
He scrolled to the Mercenary Guild’s report. Getting a source close to the inner circle had been difficult, and while they weren’t as close as Hak-Chet or Guild Master Rsach would have liked, the flow of reputable information in the last few months was promising.
Hak-Chet exhaled and slowly re-read the report to ensure he’d not missed anything.
High probability that Peacemaker Jessica Francis is in danger. The Mercenary Guild considers her presence a threat. Believe they have deployed assets to eliminate her. Intelligence leak found and neutralized—turned over to counter intelligence branch for immediate targeting. Recommend immediate extraction of Peacemaker Francis.
With his eyes closed, Hak-Chet sighed and rubbed the side of his beak-like chin. His fears had materialized much faster than he’d imagined they would. Jessica knew and understood the risks as well as he did, but the idea of losing her hurt him. Like most trailblazers, fate would likely not be on her side. Worse than her being labeled a threat to another guild was their taking action when her own guild was unable to adequately protect her.
His slate beeped with an incoming connection. He glanced at the screen and saw it was Rsach. Hak-Chet touched the screen, and the Jeha’s bristled face came into view. “Yes, Master Rsach?”
“You’ve seen the latest intelligence?”
Hak-Chet nodded. “I have. While not unexpected, the timing could not be worse. There’s almost nothing we can do.”
Rsach frowned. “I am forced to agree with you, old friend. I will order the launch of a security team from her garrison when we get out of hyperspace, but by the time the message arrives, and they respond, she may be dead. I know she has a special place in your mind, Hak-Chet.”
“She does,” Hak-Chet said. There was no denying it. A third Human Peacemaker had been commissioned, and there were others rapidly approaching graduation from the academy. “Jessica knew the risks and would understand the situation if in our place. I must maintain a degree of faith, despite its silly Human interpretations, that she will survive and succeed. If not, she gives us hope for humanity.”
“Indeed,” Rsach said. “This situation is troubling on many levels. Sending a fast reaction force is the only thing we can do for Peacemaker Francis. She will either survive, or she will not. You and I both know the guild moves forward. Even if something were to happen to both of us, the guild would thunder on without us. Remember us? Of course. But, there’s more to the guild than the sum of our losses. Over the centuries, we’ve paid a heavy price for our efforts, and the time is coming when we will pay dearly, again.”
Hak-Chet nodded. “The Mercenary Guild’s audacity is troubling. Likely moving against a whole planet? Assassinating a Peacemaker? They’ve never openly gone after a Peacemaker before.”
“We don’t know for sure. Likely, they have before. Our intelligence is better now than it’s ever been, but there are far too many variables we cannot control when it comes to dealing with them. My greatest fear is they’ve organized themselves against the Humans.”
“It wouldn’t be the first tim
e the mercenaries tried to wipe out a race for their resources, Hak-Chet said.
Rsach barked. The sound was the equivalent of a laugh, and the derision on the Guild Master’s face said volumes. “This isn’t about Earth or its resources. This is about Humans. From the moment we realized Humans were more than capable fighters, they’ve studied them, as have we. Yes, there are hundreds of barely competent Human companies operating in the galaxy. Jessica’s former unit is a prime example. Some of them could do their jobs, but without the right leadership, they ultimately failed.”
“But, there are others.”
Rsach nodded solemnly. “There are other units who represent a direct threat to the Mercenary Guild. Some of the Human companies are damned efficient, even without the best leadership. Imagine what they could do with the right capabilities and technologies at their fingertips? Humanity is a threat to the Mercenary Guild, Hak-Chet. They’ve acted against our first Human Peacemaker and may well target the others, but their real goal is humanity itself. Remove the fighting caste, and the docile will fall easily. I believe that is the intent of the Mercenary Guild’s leadership. They want humanity to fail.”
Hak-Chet said nothing and tried to keep a straight face. Thoughts betrayed him, and he spoke almost without thinking about the consequences. “You wanted Jessica to fail, not more than six months ago, Rsach.”
Honor the Threat Page 13
