Honor the Threat

by Kevin Ikenberry

  A single, small TriRusk tore off the right rear weapons pylon and discarded it like paper. The left one turned to engage it, and Jessica realized the TriRusk was the child from the MinSha compound. Lucille displayed a big red X over the heads-up display.

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  Jessica stomped out from behind cover as the left pylon swung toward it. A burst of laser rifle fire lit up the rear of the pylon, and Jessica could see the operator hesitate between the child and a new target Jessica couldn’t see. That hesitation was all the child needed to dismantle the pylon and toss it aside. The child clambered from the central platform to the rear deck of the skiff. As she stood, there was an explosion and she flew through the air, landing some ten meters away in heavy brush.

  “No!” Jessica came up with her weapon firing. The skiff lobbed a series of grenades in her direction, pushing her back to her covered position as they exploded around her. She spun to fire, and the red X appeared again.

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  The dust and grenade smoke cleared enough for her to see a MinSha standing over the cockpit of the skiff with its rifle pointed down at the hatch. Jessica scanned the skiff for recent heat signatures and found the grenade launchers. She targeted them and brought the railgun to bear. The skiff shuddered with the explosions of the grenades in their internal racks. The MinSha jumped clear of the skiff and turned its bright red eyes to her.

  “Tirr!” Jessica called over the external speakers. “Check Maarg! I’ve got this.”

  Tirr ducked into the brush and disappeared, and Jessica walked forward awkwardly as the CASPer’s missing left arm threw off the guidance system.

  “Look at you, Peacemaker,” Raleigh called over a laser connection. “All torn up and out of ammunition.”

  Jessica blinked and looked at her stores. She had thirty percent of her ammunition remaining in both the cannon and the railgun. “Lucille, are you relaying bad information?”

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  Raleigh continued. “I guess that means you’re going to have to come and get me, Miss Francis. I can promise you I won’t go quietly.”

  Jessica rolled her eyes. Why don’t you shut up?

  She moved forward with the cannon still tracking on the skiff’s center of mass. “Raleigh Reilly, you’re ordered to stand down from combat operations under the direct supervision of a Peacemaker in the performance of her duties.”

  “Screw you, Peacemaker. Both you and your precious guild.” Raleigh laughed. “Come and get me.”

  Jessica intended to do just that and walked the CASPer to the front right skirt of the command skiff, where she stepped atop the armor. She grabbed the shredded forward weapons pylon for stability, then moved to the central platform and its command hatch. Reaching down for the handle, Jessica saw the CASPer’s hand in her forward cameras as Lucille scanned the weapons systems. The caution and warning panel flashed red.

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  The skiff’s top armor detonated under the CASPer and flung Jessica through the air. Forcing herself to go limp, Jessica pulled her arms up to grab her opposite shoulders and pressed her head against the head restraints. Her harness locked as the CASPer impacted the ground, bounced off a large tree stump, and came to rest on its shattered left side, partially face down. All the cameras winked out, and the CASPer’s power shut off.

  “Lucille?”

  There was no response. Jessica knew she couldn’t jettison the canopy, so she reached down beside her right thigh and found the emergency evacuation switch. The last time she’d opened this CASPer via the removable upper rear panel, Tara Mason had been in the seat and completely incapacitated. Jessica released her shoulder harness, then toggled the evacuation switch. Warm, moist air flooded the cramped cockpit. The upper rear panel released, and Jessica braced herself against the CASPer’s instrument panel and shimmied up through the opening. She paused for a second at the top. From there, she could stretch her head up and see what Raleigh did.

  A hard, cylindrical object pressed into her right temple, and she knew it was the barrel of a laser rifle. The only laser rifle she’d seen had been in the arms of a friend. Jessica sighed and turned her head slowly to the right. She smiled as she looked up into Tirr’s face, and the MinSha’s antennae bounced from side to side in joy.

  “Peacemaker Francis. My apologies. I needed to make sure it was you. This is a most unexpected, and welcome, surprise.”

  Jessica nodded. “Give me a hand?”

  Tirr did not move.

  “Put the rifle down and help me out of this thing before the skiff finishes us off.”

  Tirr did as she asked. With his forearms under her armpits, crawling out of the CASPer was much easier. She crawled around to the back of the CASPer and opened the storage compartment. Jessica leaned forward and seized her combat jacket just as two laser bolts tore through the sky. Tirr fell heavily to the ground beside her. His chiton singed from laser fire, she knew at a glance the wounds were serious. His eyes flitted to her.

  “He’s coming,” Tirr said. “I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you.”

  Jessica reached her good hand over and grabbed his right forearm. “Let me protect you, Tirr.”

  “Stand or fall, Peacemaker.” The MinSha wheezed the words at her, and she was suddenly on the edge of tears. While not exact in their translation to English, the motto meant what Tirr said. She’d first seen it emblazoned on a statue commemorating the first Peacemakers on the grounds of Peacemaker U. In that heartbeat of initial emotional response, she’d known her potential role as Earth’s first Peacemaker fell exactly within the confines of those words. She held a position of absolutes, with no safety net on either side. Every interaction would meet those criteria. Either she would stand, or she would fall. The razor’s edge between the two absolutes had given her the impetus to write those words into her personal portion of the Peacemaker oath. Hearing them cleared her mind and set in motion what she knew would have to happen next. Jessica released the safety strap on her thigh holster and heard Raleigh calling her name. He was out of the skiff and close by, but out of sight.

  “Jessica? Oh, Jessica dear?” The falsetto voice grated on her nerves. “How about you stand up with your arms over your head, and we’ll end this whole damned thing.”

  Jessica looked at Tirr and saw the agony in his face. She nodded one more time and let a smile touch one side of her mouth. “Rest easy, Tirr. I’ve got this bastard right where I want him. Stand or fall.”

  * * * * *

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Weqq

  In the Jungle East of the MinSha Compound

  “At last, Jessica, it’s just you and me,” Raleigh said. He stepped out from behind a tree ten meters away and walked straight toward her, his pistol drawn but hanging at his side. The white shirt he wore under a ratty black vest had seen better days, and the sunken rings beneath his eyes showed the toll of constant fatigue and alcohol. His lazy smile and wild eyes enraged her, but she kept her face and body calm. With her arms up, the pistol on her leg seemed a thousand miles away. Raleigh stepped closer, ran a hand through this his thick, shaggy black hair and stared at her. “We could have saved these aliens a lot of body bags if you’d just surrendered the MinSha colony in the first place.”

  Jessica snorted. “You closed off all radio communications, so you could grandstand in front of your company of worshippers, then presented an ultimatum you knew the MinSha would not be able to accomplish in time. Then, you assumed your CASPers and combat power could take down a science station with minimal resistance. They handed your ass to you for what? Six or eight hours? You’re the same shitty commander as ever, Raleigh.”

  Raleigh’s smile evaporated, and his features darkened. He waved the pistol in a lazy circle but did not raise it. “This wasn’t just a science station, Jessica. You know that, so don’t insult my intelligence. The MinSha were farming those TriRusk things and producing diamon
ds, pure and simple. That’s why their defenses were so good. They’re one of our biggest enemies in the galaxy, you know?”

  Jessica bit her tongue to keep from asking him how many times he’d successfully engaged the MinSha. Chances were he’d never fought a single one of them, mercenary company or not. “I’m aware the MinSha operate very differently than humans are used to, but that doesn’t necessarily brand them an enemy.”

  Raleigh cackled with laughter, but his eyes never left hers. “Listen to yourself! You say “human” like it’s a four-letter word, when you’re just as human as I am. The difference between us is that I understand what’s going on out there, Peacemaker.”

  “Oh, really?” Jessica asked. “You know what’s going on? Then why did your guild pay you to come to this planet and kill every living creature?”

  “I don’t question the guild, Jessica. Your father never did.”

  “Leave my father out of this, Raleigh.” Jessica took a deep breath. Her arms ached from being held over her head, so she slowly, carefully brought them to rest on the top of her head. Raleigh never moved. “Your guild set you up. They want the rest of the galaxy to see how messed up humans are—how we’ll take any mission for money. They came to you because you’re crass enough to do it. You swallowed their sales pitch hook, line, and sinker. All those credits weren’t going to do you or your people a damned bit of good when the MinSha came calling for your head.”

  He snorted. “Maybe, maybe not. What matters is that I still have a chance to take the bounty on your head and collect partial credit for my losses. Even if the guild sells me out, I’ll die rich.”

  “And stupid.”

  “Fuck you, Peacemaker.” Raleigh brought the pistol up, but the barrel wavered all over the place. He wasn’t going to shoot. He wanted to make a point. All she had to do was keep him talking, and the opportunity would arise. “You think you’d survive much longer in the galaxy? The guild wants you dead.”

  “I know that, Raleigh. I have proof of it,” Jessica replied. The physical response from Raleigh was exactly what she’d hoped for—the barrel stabilized on her chest, and he cocked his head toward her slightly.

  “What did you say?”

  “They sent a sniper. A professional Zuul sniper named Lmurr, with orders to take me out. He got the word the minute the Peacemaker Guild sent me on this mission, which means there’s an inside threat, too. Lmurr got here within 48 hours of my arrival and set up a nest and a supply cache. He couldn’t have done both without the knowledge of someone on the inside. I’m guessing that was Psymrr, the leader you murdered in cold blood when you walked in under a flag of truce. That’s another mark on your record by the way, but I digress. I have proof your guild is after me, and with that proof, the power resides in the Peacemaker Guild.”

  “Only if you live to tell the tale.” Raleigh laughed. “I’ve seen those old movies. I know you’re going to say it’s going to be sent if something happens to you and all that.”

  Jessica shook her head slowly from side to side. “No, Raleigh. The minute your jamming platform and C2 links went down, we started broadcasting. With any luck, the message was received and transmitted through the gate thirty minutes ago. You’re on borrowed time.”

  Raleigh stepped closer. He was two meters away from Jessica, his pistol leveled at the center of her forehead. “I’ll show you what borrowed time—”

  The CASPer under her hummed to life as it rebooted. Raleigh flinched backward and ran headlong into the brush. Jessica dropped her hands and drew her pistol as he sprinted into the underbrush to the east. She fired twice but missed him. Without a second thought, she sped after him through the chest-high vegetation.

  * * *

  Weqq

  MinSha Compound

  The moment Deathangel 25 cartwheeled into the jungle, Tara Mason ran from the MinSha command center. Down the central passage, she ran as fast as her legs would carry her into the central compound. The motionless CASPers reminded her of statues among the smoldering wreckage of the Raiders. She stopped at the weapons crates and awkwardly stuffed a laser pistol into the belt of her coveralls. Adding a laser rifle and three batteries, she worked the action and charged the rifle in one smooth motion as she ran to the nearest available exit. The eastern portal remained clear of debris, so Tara sprinted to it, opened the oblong hatch, and stepped into the jungle. She ran to the southern wall and found a path not much larger than the cattle trails she remembered from her uncle’s dairy farm. The path led away from the compound in the general direction of Deathangel 25, and the only chance she had for a pardon.

  She knew there was more to the situation than a sudden desire to clear her name and disavow any affiliation to Raleigh Reilly and his Raiders. Since the demise of Death on Tracks, she’d made one bad decision after another. She’d made friends and ultimately helped Jessica attain her position as Peacemaker, but she’d turned around and left a lucrative job on the table to re-enter the mercenary pits and found herself on the outside. Disappointment became desperation. Now, with her company in tatters, she’d turned her back on them to go to the aid of the only friend she had left in the galaxy. Whether Jessica could pardon her or not didn’t matter. Raleigh Reilly was out of his command skiff and walking toward the disabled CASPer containing her friend. If Jessica could get out of the mecha, Raleigh would be there, and he’d kill her without blinking. There hadn’t really been a conscious decision. If there was, Tara wasn’t going to be on the wrong side of it, and she sprinted with everything she had.

  Without Lucille in her ear, Tara only had the compass on her slate to go by. At a rough azimuth of 198 from the compound and a distance of two hundred meters, she believed she’d find them. After ninety seconds of running, she slowed to a jog and tried to listen above the swiping sounds of vegetation crossing and catching her dark green coveralls. Thirty seconds later, she slowed to a walk, then stopped. Closing her eyes, she willed her ears to hear something, anything, that would let her know she was on the right course. Staying on the trail had been the fastest path into the jungle, but with every thump of her heartbeat, Tara recognized the very real fact that she was lost and about to fail. Again.

  Two quick shots flashed to her right. The laser pistol was close—maybe within a hundred meters or so. Tara darted off the trail into the thick brush. Legs churning, she burst through a thicket into dense forest. Sighting a small clear space that seemed close to where she’d heard the shots, she sped across the moist jungle floor and into the brush. Just as quickly, she came through the other side into a small clearing. Twenty meters to her left, Deathangel 25 lay on its shattered left side. The rear evacuation door was open, and Jessica was nowhere to be seen. Neither was Raleigh.

  Tara brought her rifle up to ready and worked her way around the fallen CASPer. On the ground behind it lay a single MinSha. As she crept closer, she saw the insignia on his blue garment and recognized Tirr, the Captain of the Guard. She lowered the rifle barrel and walked up to him. The MinSha’s head turned to her, and his eyes widened in shock. A forehand came up shakily.

  “You are here to kill me.”

  Tara shook her head. “I came for the Peacemaker. For Jessica.”

  “She is not here.”

  “I can see that.”

  Tirr coughed. “You can kill me now. I will not tell you where she is.”

  “What?” Tara blinked. “No. Captain Tirr, Jessica is my friend.” Tara knelt at his side. His left chest and shoulder area had taken a laser bolt at close range. While it didn’t seem as serious as it appeared, the MinSha was obviously in pain and his race’s version of shock. “Let me help you.”

  “You are a Raider.”

  Tara looked at his wide, ruby-colored eyes. He flinched away as she reached for his arm. “I was. But I was Jessica’s friend before that, and I had no idea she was in this system, much less on this planet. Raleigh never mentioned a Peacemaker. Our communications were blocked.”

  Tirr appeared to settle a little. His hea
d lolled to the left and his breathing hitched. “A despicable human. Like most of your species, I would guess.”

  Tara recoiled as if slapped. The very idea that a single human could stain the reputation of an entire species seemed like something out of a movie, or from the dictators and monarchs of history, not from a shitty mercenary commander. Tirr would most likely survive his wounds, and his takeaway from this experience would be that most humans were awful beings. She took a breath and waited for the right words to come. “I’d like to think that more of us are like Jessica than like Raleigh, but the truth is something in between, Captain Tirr.”

  For a long moment, Tirr said nothing. He laid his head back down on the jungle floor and stared up at the jungle canopy. He finally turned his head to her. “She went after Raleigh. When the mecha restarted, he ran in that direction.”

  Tara followed Tirr’s outstretched hand. They had a couple of minutes’ head start, at best. She could catch them in Deathangel 25 in far less than that.

  “I’m going to help Jessica. I’ll be right back.”

  Tirr laid his head back down to the ground. “I underrrrr—”

  Tara sat forward. “Tirr? Tirr?”

  The MinSha’s head slumped awkwardly on its neck. His chest rose and fell, slightly, but every other indication was that he was dead.

  Shit!

  Tara went to Deathangel 25, looked inside the evacuation hatch and located the first aid kit. There was nothing in there that would help the MinSha, but she had to try.

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  “Lucille! There’s a MinSha out here, Captain Tirr, and he’s in really bad shape. Do you know anything about MinSha biology? How can we help him?”

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