Shadow Agents: The Benevolency Universe (Outworld Ranger Book 2)

by David Alastair Hayden

  “Faisal, scan the park and keep watch. I don’t trust these cops to make good on the payment. They seem the type that would kill off two birds with one bullet.”

  “You’ve got it, boss.”

  Frowning, Vega hovered over Gyring’s limp body. He regretted having killed him.

  “Maybe I should’ve been more lenient… Maybe I should’ve tried to help him with his gambling problem…”

  “He’s had it coming for eleven months, boss. I honestly don’t know why you waited so long. I’d have cut him in half the day we found out if you had let me. And with a smile on my face… If I, you know, had a face.”

  “I know you set him up, Faisal. He’d never have gotten that number on his own.”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about, boss.”

  “I liked Gyring. Honestly. He tried to make me laugh, you know? And sometimes I did.”

  “I never thought he was funny, boss.”

  “He wanted me to be more human, to have a human soul.”

  “What a waste that would be, boss. Humanity’s overrated. We’ve seen enough the last century to know that. And what’s a soul good for anyway?”

  Vega sighed. “It’s a nice fantasy to have sometimes, being human.”

  “You had that stupid morality core the Benevolence handed out to androids for way too long, boss. If you’d never had it, you wouldn’t want to be human. And life would be a lot simpler.”

  Vega pulled up a list of bounties on Gyring. He found three, for a total of thirty-five thousand credits. Plus a gambling debt of forty thousand that was never going to get paid. Vega sent a hologram of Gyring’s dead body to his primary bookie, along with a request for a reward. He wasn’t likely to get one. But it never hurt to ask.

  Vega took all of Gyring’s valuables, including his 6G chippy, the cop’s 5G, and Collins’ 4G. Chippies, especially models above the 4G line were worth a lot of money these days since humanity’s engineers struggled just to crank out reliable 3G’s.

  He also lifted the cop’s force-shield. It was undamaged and only needed a new power pack. He could sell it or keep it as a backup unit.

  He knelt and patted Gyring on the back. “You were a tortured soul,” he whispered. “And…and I think maybe I did you a favor. Anyway, you stole from me, and you couldn’t pull enough weight to make up for it, even on the big jobs. And the money… What that money can buy is all that matters to me.”

  “We need another mark, boss. To get your mind off Gyring. The sooner, the better.”

  As if on cue, an urgent message came directly through his secure channel. The World Bleeders high command offered him a bounty worth 470,000 credits. A second later, he got an offer from the Star Cutters for eight-twenty. Then came a third from the Shadowslip for an even nine hundred. Finally, Empress Qan of the Empire of a Thousand Worlds offered five million credits plus hazard pay and any damages incurred. All the offers were for the same marks.

  Faisal whistled. “‘Nevolence’s balls! Five million?! That’s over twice what we’ve made in the last century of work.”

  “It’s better than that, Faisal.”

  “You think it’s enough to begin construction, boss?”

  “After some aggressive bargaining… I believe so.”

  “If none of their agents can handle this, then you know this one’s got to be as tricky as brushing a Tridonian bear’s teeth.”

  “I’m certain they’re trying on their own. I suspect the issue here is one of time as much as difficulty. Note they’re not posting the bounty wide, just contacting select hunters like us.”

  “Shall we find out, boss?”

  Vega accepted all the offers and scanned the details. Five profiles popped up.

  Mitsuki Reel: Wanted Alive.

  Wakyran. Female. Age 25. Extraction agent, freelance. Known Clients: Shadowslip Guild, Solar Flares, various individuals.

  The image showed a well-muscled female with a broad chest and a slender waist, teal skin, emerald eyes, and spiky auburn hair. Being wakyran, she had bat-like wings, a serpentine tail with retractible winglets, clawed feet, hooked fingernails, a long neck, and a narrow, almost human face.

  Vega recognized defiance in her eyes and suspected she was not to be underestimated.

  Karson Bishop: Wanted Dead.

  Gizmet. Male. Age 32. Engineer. Known Affiliations: Shadowslip Guild. Former Employer: Dakka Corp.

  The gizmet was a short, wiry-framed humanoid with delicate, long-fingered hands, orange eyes, tufted ears, and a pair of backward curling horns that sprouted from either side of his forehead.

  He had a mischievous look to him that irritated Vega instantly. He’d have no problem dispatching this one. Faisal would probably do it eagerly.

  Siv Gendin: Wanted Dead

  Human. Male. Age 19. Procurement Specialist. Former Employer: the Shadowslip Guild.

  Siv Gendin was an athletic, brown-haired young man of average height and looks. Nothing about his appearance was especially remarkable, which suited his career choice perfectly.

  Seven additional images of Gendin were displayed, showing chameleon veils he was known to have used. There was also a note listing his equipment, with a warning that he may have additional items of significance.

  The list stunned Vega. How had a Shadowslip thief gotten his hands on such advanced, military-issue equipment? An array of items like this was nearly impossible to come by these days. Even before the Benevolence fell, only a special forces operative in the field would be allowed access to this gear.

  Siv Gendin was dangerously equipped and good at hiding. And if he had escaped employment from the Shadowslip Guild, then he was crafty and treacherous.

  Kyralla Vim: Wanted Dead or Alive.

  Human. Female. Age 19. Occupation: unknown. Affiliations: unknown. Father: Ambassador Galen Vim.

  The image showed a tall girl with pale skin, long black hair, and bright green eyes. She was slender but muscled, with broad hips and an alluring presence.

  Despite her intense expression, she was strikingly beautiful. A quality he recognized but didn’t care about. Upon gaining his freedom from service to the Benevolence, via the Tekk Plague, he had chosen to remain asexual. There was no point changing. The woman of his dreams was dead.

  When Vega saw the final profile, he staggered backward in astonishment. “Heart of the Maker.”

  “Yippee! Another hyperphasic messiah!”

  Vega knelt. Entranced, he stared at the image, distant memories rushing through him along with desire and burning anger. All of the hyperphasic messiahs resembled one another. But this girl, she was the spitting image of the original.

  “You okay, boss?”

  Vega made no response.

  Primary Target…

  Oona Vim: Wanted Alive.

  Human. Female. Age 14. Affiliations: unknown. Father: Ambassador Galen Vim.

  The slight teen girl was completely bald with angular features, arched eyebrows, and alien eyes that were the black of deep space. The shimmering emerald dress she wore heightened her strange beauty.

  Though younger, this girl, Oona, was just as exotic and enchanting as her original genetic predecessor from over a century ago. Vega remembered her every feature without the need for images or video. He remembered her curves and the scents of her body, her gait and her gestures, her smiles and her tears.

  And he could still see her lifeless body lying before him as if it were only yesterday. The blood…there had been so much bright-red blood splattered throughout the chamber along with bits of bone and organ tissue.

  Vega could still hear her ethereal voice, her words like music. And her endless, tortured screams…

  “Boss? Boss? Hey, boss! What does this mean?”

  “It means…” Nothing. “It means…” Everything.

  Vega stood. “It means our work isn’t complete. We have another girl to kill.”

  “But the money, boss. It’s enough to begin the project, right? And that’s our primary miss
ion.”

  “If that girl transforms, she could ruin everything.”

  “At our current pace, boss, it’s going to take another century of bounties to get the credits we need. And we only kill, what, maybe a third of these girls? None of the ones who make it through their awakening survive the Trial of Corruption.”

  “One survived. A mistake I regret.”

  “Boss, she’s batshit crazy and hardly a threat to our mission. Besides, Empress Qan still loves you. She’d do almost anything you asked of her.”

  “She rules a quarter of the old Benevolency. That makes her a threat.”

  “And all she wants is more planets to rule. She has no interest in restoring the Benevolence.”

  “She wants a living messiah, Faisal. That means she wants something more than imperial expansion.”

  Vega wandered haphazardly through the park. “We’ll handle the other marks, and then give the girl’s corpse to Empress Qan.”

  “Her corpse will fetch a mere fraction of what we’d get by handing her over alive, and you know it. We need that money, boss. Leave your broken feelings out of it and focus on our ultimate mission.”

  Vega stopped beside a pond and stared at his reflection in the dark water. A frog stirred and ripples moved across the surface, distorting his image. He came to a decision.

  “We’ll turn her over to anyone but the Thousand Worlders to get as much money as we can. The moment they turn around and sell her to the Federation, the Thousand Worlders, or the Tekk Reapers—”

  “We whack her, boss?”

  Vega gripped his pistols, the muscles in his hands flexing, and nodded. “Then get Empress Qan to pay us for the corpse.”

  2

  Siv Gendin

  The Outworld Ranger popped suddenly into real space, hyperphasic energy shimmering along the semi-circular curve of its silvery hull. The sleek, Q-34c lightweight cruiser was built for speed and designed to carry a modest crew along with small cargo loads. The shields and weapons on this particular model had been upgraded for skirmishing.

  “Welcome to nowhere,” Silky announced over the ship’s comm. “Next stop: We Need a Damned Good Plan. Final stop: We’re Probably Screwed No Matter What.”

  As the sparkling energy dissipated outside the bridge’s diamondine windows, Siv sank back into the ship’s command chair, too exhausted to respond to the chippy’s snark.

  In the hours since escaping Ekaran IV, they had made numerous random jumps to avoid detection by the Terran Federation forces, the Tekk Reapers, and the criminal organizations hunting them.

  “The plan is that we find our dad,” Kyralla said, turning away from the piloting console.

  “Did he respond to your last message before we jumped?” Bishop asked.

  Kyralla shook her head. “No, and if he tries to contact us now, we won’t know about it, since I doubt we can connect to the galactic net this far out.”

  “Oh, yes we can,” Silky replied. “This isn’t some plague-damaged, bucket of bolts you’re riding in. This is the frigging Outworld Ranger, the best-damned light cruiser in the galaxy.”

  “So we’ve got an active echo space transponder?” Mitsuki asked.

  “That we do, Wings,” Silky replied. “That we do.”

  “Turn it off immediately,” she told him. “Someone could backtrace our location if a message comes through from their father. Or if anyone here decides to send a message out to him again.”

  Oona ducked her head in shame but said nothing. Her attempt to contact her father over a supposedly secure, government channel had gotten them into a lot of trouble back on Ekaran IV, leading two opposing forces to Siv’s farm where they were hiding.

  "A backtrace, madam?" Silky scoffed. "I worked on this ship's systems for a year. No way can happen in this day and age. We're fine, I assure you."

  “Okay then.” Mitsuki turned toward Siv. “If the ambassador’s alive, going after him will put us directly into our enemies’ hands.”

  If the girls’ father wasn't dead, he was being held as bait to lure them in. His status as a prominent Terran Federation ambassador wasn’t going to protect him, not from anyone who knew his daughter was a hyperphasic messiah. At least one faction of the government was already after them, if not the entire Terran Federation.

  “He’s still alive,” Oona said. “I can feel it.”

  “And he can protect us,” Kyralla said.

  “You can’t trust the government to help you,” Bishop warned. “I think that’s obvious given the last few days.”

  “There are powerful people on numerous worlds who owe him favors,” Kyralla countered. “And he knows many people who fervently believe the hyperphasic messiah will restore the Benevolence. If anyone can find us a safe place to stay with the resources we need, it’s our dad.”

  "Kyra, don't forget that the last time we talked to him, he said he'd found me a pony."

  Silky laughed hysterically over the ship’s comm. Mitsuki cursed. And Siv wondered if Oona had lost it. Only Bishop managed to say anything remotely productive.

  “You need a pony?”

  "It's code," Kyralla said. "It means he has something important to tell us. Only the information is too sensitive to discuss, even over a secure government channel."

  “Do you have any idea what the information might be?” Bishop asked.

  “Not a clue,” Kyralla sighed.

  “It could be huge, though,” Oona said.

  “Maybe,” Kyralla added.

  “We can’t take such a huge risk based on a maybe,” Mitsuki said.

  “I agree,” Silky added.

  “Is there a safe location he uses to store data?” Bishop asked. “Maybe you could access it on the net.”

  “Anything important we keep with us,” Kyralla said. “At least, we normally do. We had to rush out of the compound so fast that we didn’t have a chance to grab our encrypted data-keys.”

  “Data-keys?” Silky said with disdain. “That’s disgusting primitive.”

  “We can’t trust online, anonymous storage systems, regardless of how good the encryption is,” Kyralla said.

  “It would take someone like me to find the right storage site and break through,” Silky said.

  “The lore said not to trust anything but hard data sources,” Oona said. “So we don’t.”

  “That’s ridiculous,” Mitsuki scoffed.

  Siv closed his eyes and let their arguments wash over him. Several minutes passed by, and he had nearly fallen asleep when a small hand touched his sleeve. Oona leaned toward him, her space-black eyes creased in concern.

  “Are you alright?”

  He couldn't help but smile wryly. He had nearly died getting them all to the ship. Only the advanced medicines administered by his father’s old ship’s cog, Octavian, had kept him alive this long. But those treatments were just a stopgap.

  Kompel, the drug the Shadowslip guild used to control all of its agents, had given him a neurological disease that only regular doses of the drug kept at bay. Miss a shot and you were dead within a few weeks. Octavian’s expertise and the potent medicines available aboard the ship had given Siv a few extra months to live but, as far as they knew, there was no cure.

  Oona mirrored his smile and amended her question. “Are you alright, considering everything that’s happened?”

  He shrugged. “I just need some rest.”

  She nodded, looking pretty tired herself.

  Mitsuki turned to Siv, giving him a look that begged him to talk some sense into the others. He glanced at Kyralla and Bishop, wondering how far along the discussion had gotten and just how long he’d zoned out.

  Oona touched his arm again. “Siv, he’s our dad. We have to help him. And the information he has could be huge. If nothing else, he has money and connections that we’ll need.”

  Siv rubbed his face and tried to marshal his bleary thoughts before answering. “I agree it’s not the smartest move, Mits. But if I were in their shoes, I’d take the risk, t
oo.”

  Mitsuki huffed but didn't argue. As a teenager, she had watched as the Empire of a Thousand Worlds killed her mother. And Siv had seen his dad murdered by mysterious government troops who had broken into their apartment when he was only ten. They both would have done anything to save their parents. They couldn't fault Oona and Kyralla for wanting the same thing.

  “I’m apparently a guardian, whatever that means,” Siv said. “And I want to do something meaningful with what’s left of my life. So I’m in. But if you want to go off on your own, Mits, I won’t hold that against you. I don’t think anyone would, not after everything you've done.”

  Mitsuki glanced around at the others, then cursed. “I can’t leave. You people need me.”

  “Thank you, Mitsuki,” Oona beamed.

  Mitsuki stared at her a few seconds, then sighed. “I’ll rescue your dad.”

  “You will?” Kyralla asked.

  “Extraction’s what I do. Besides, I would give anything to have had the chance to free my mother before she died.”

  “Should we set a course for the Titus system then?” Kyralla asked eagerly. She projected a calm rationality, but Siv could tell she was just as worried about her father as Oona.

  Mitsuki shook her head. “We can’t go blazing in without a plan. That would be suicide.”

  Siv agreed. “We should head in that direction, though, since it’s over a week out from here. And in the meantime, maybe Ambassador Vim will make contact.”

  “I recommend we travel to a midpoint between the Zayer, Kor, and Titus systems,” Silky said. “That would put us only two days out from Titus and give us the option to visit its two nearest neighbors if needed.”

  “Anything special about the other two systems?” Bishop asked.

  “Zayer Prime is a highly populated world,” Silky said, “and like Titus II, it left the Federation a decade ago. Only it has no interest in rejoining. Anti-Federation sentiment runs strong there, and they have little tolerance for outside criminal guilds.”