“Here you go.” Hex stepped into the cockpit section and handed Jessica a combat slate. The reinforced carbon fiber devices were hardened against everything short of a thermonuclear blast and had a more powerful processor and battery than commercial slates. Jessica rummaged in a shoulder pocket for a connector cable, one with a vice-like grip, and attached it to the cable port on the slate. She plugged the vice-grip into the space where the old chip had been and found connectivity.
“Lucille, trace the power conduits of this system. Expedited full scan.”
<
Jessica saw the counter start moving forward. “Relay system progress to my slate, updating every hour until complete.”
<
“You really think you’re going to find something we can use to protect the Altar?” Hex asked. “I don’t think we’ve got that kind of time, Jess.”
She agreed with him. “You’re right, we don’t. I’m not betting we can get the weapons or anything else to work. That’s not the point. You guys set the stage for the Quaker cannon, right?”
“Yeah,” Hex replied slowly. “But that’s really what you’re doing here, aren’t you? You’re forcing their hands.”
“That’s right,” Jessica said. “Right now, Kenos is having kittens trying to figure out what I’m doing. Taemin’s told him what he thinks I’m doing, so I’m guessing they’re convinced we’re going to use this Raknar to defend the Altar colony using some kind of Peacemaker mojo. Kenos will come in tomorrow and follow Taemin’s advice. He’ll attempt to boot the Altar out by force, and we won’t leave. He’ll have to come up with something else.”
“And he’s going to have the GenSha and the Selroth do it for him.” Hex rubbed his eyes. “You really think he’ll do that?”
“He wants them off this terrain. There are only two answers why—this Raknar, or what’s in the bottom of those mines. He’s willing to do anything, including starting a war, because it’s the only way to get what he wants.”
“I know what I want,” Hex said. “Chow…and maybe some sleep.”
Jessica chuckled. “We can do that. Set security to 50 percent with two-hour watches. Get everyone fed who hasn’t already eaten. Hold off on any fresher tablets, though. We may need them for operations tomorrow. I’d rather see how many of our folks can sleep a little and eat a good meal.” Alertness via artificial chemicals had certain advantages, but Jessica wanted to avoid it, if possible.
Her stomach rumbled in response. Confident she’d done as much as she could in the Raknar, Jessica led Hex to the cockpit door and crawled out into the cooling Araf afternoon. Clouds obscured the sun, but they were too light and high to produce rain. Waiting for Hex to climb down the CASPer’s outstretched arms, she stared into this particular sky and closed her eyes like a little girl. The ritual had been the same almost every day she could remember. Some days, particularly those when she was on missions or under fire, she forgot or simply did not have the time. Others, she would stare into the heavens for hours thinking the same thing over and over again. On rare occasions, she whispered the words to the wind. Under an unfamiliar sky, so far away from home, it seemed appropriate.
“Where are you, Daddy?”
* * *
“The Peacemaker is up to something, and I have no idea what it could be.”
“She wants to help those she sees as weak without knowing the power they have to wield,” Kenos said. “No matter. I will personally verify the size of the brood in the morning and will file an injunction against her and the entire Peacemaker Guild before mid-morning. Once that is in place, we can move forward on Araf.”
“Your forces are in place?”
“Assembled and ready.” Kenos stroked his chin. “All they need is my signal to proceed.”
“You are aware of what happened in the colony?”
Kenos snorted. “A human CASPer fell and destroyed our telemetry and surveillance package. It’s irrelevant. We no longer need it. We know what they’re hiding underground.”
“Only on one occupied level. You still believe there is something deeper?”
“Of course. Why else would they stay?” Kenos said. “They’re protective to a fault. Believing they should protect it by hampering legal extraction is what they’ve done across the galaxy for hundreds of years. They want to mitigate risk and hold onto the fragile peace the Union provides. This is a single colony we’re facing, and they’ve put a stop to development long enough. A simple act of war tomorrow will push this conflict over the edge.”
“You place too much faith in your combatants.”
“They are handsomely paid to do what I want them to do. They will be in position and ready to act. Do not forget your end of this arrangement. I expect a proper opening sequence to our, shall we say, dance.” The connection terminated abruptly. Kenos grinned in the dark office. The opulent D’Nart spaceport spread below him in all directions. There would be a new gem in the Consortium’s crown once the Altar colony and that gods-damned Raknar were razed, and the bounty hauled from the mines. Terraforming had one goal—resources. On rare occasions, the resources created far exceeded the cost of the overall project. In the event of an exceptional rarity, something that could destabilize a healthy portion of the Union’s economy, opportunities were not to be wasted.
* * * * *
Chapter Twenty
An hour before dawn, Hex rubbed dirt and sleep from the corners of his eyes. His bedroll stretched out under the early morning skies at the feet of his CASPer. He looked up into the galaxy for a long time. Months before, he and Maya slept on the beaches of Kaua’i looking up at the swirling arm of the Milky Way. They’d talked, made love, and talked some more. Their future laid out in front of them, they’d looked past the next mission and into uncertain possibilities. Hammer promised them an easy mission, one that would not only fund their wedding and honeymoon, but leave enough so they could plan the rest of their lives. Retirement by age 35 was possible. Granted, they could have left the Mercenary Guild at any time and lived off the pension from Hex’s father’s considerable funds, but he’d wanted none of it. His brothers and sisters would squabble over their inheritance with their lawyers for years. Hex preferred to earn his own and keep his finances separate from his family. In Maya, he’d found the partner of a lifetime, but everything changed in the blink of an eye.
There are no easy missions, son.
His father was a legend in the mercenary community, having served in Cartwright’s Cavaliers before moving on to other opportunities. Hex knew a part of that legacy could be his, but he’d struck out on his own. With Maya, he’d believed it was possible to leave it all behind and find a secluded beach somewhere to watch the world turn. His father’s insistent presence, the constant flow of lessons learned and experienced, kept coming back. Maybe it was time to admit that he’d never be anything but a mercenary, much like his father.
Footsteps crunched closer in the loose gravel. He turned and saw Tara walking toward him with two steaming, steel mugs. “Want some coffee?”
He unzipped his sleeping bag and moved to a sitting position. The coffee smelled strong and bitter, exactly the way he liked it. “Thanks,” he said, taking a mug. For a split second, he wondered how someone so squared away, so professionally competent, could be lying about everything.
“You’re welcome,” Tara said. “Security is ramping up to 100 percent. The Altar are moving to the walls and readying their systems in case of an attack at first light. We’ll be ready in about 10 minutes.”
Hex nodded. It had been their plan all along. “Everything quiet out there?”
“So far,” Tara said. She looked to the west and the craggy ridge lines. “Nothing moving on surveillance radars, and everything we can see is calm. The reconnaissance images from over there don’t really show anything. A couple of possibles, but I can’t make anything out.”
Hex sipped the coffee. He’d studied the same images before going to sleep. “Yeah,
I’m not an analyst either. Something’s out there, though. They’re just better at cover and concealment than we are.”
Tara snorted. “We’re out here in broad daylight, by comparison.”
The position wasn’t great, but it held the key terrain, and that mattered. High ground provided an advantage in both weapon ranges and observation. What they could see, they could kill at a sizable distance. “It’s a good position.”
“Yeah,” Tara said sounding unconvinced.
Hex turned and looked at her. “What is it?”
“Good positions aren’t everything,” she replied, sipping from her mug. “History hasn’t always been kind to those fighting from good positions. Relying solely on our advantages leaves us at risk. We have to be flexible and keep the initiative no matter what.”
“Have an escape plan, huh?” Hex said before he could stop. The effect was a sarcastic inflection which only made it worse.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Tara said. “I didn’t imply anything about an escape plan, I said we needed to be flexible.”
Hex cradled the mug in his lap, deciding after a half second of consideration to just get it over with. “Flexibility is one thing. Living to fight another day is something else. My Dad always said a mercenary shouldn’t ever think about the next day, only the one they have and never, absolutely never, the past. I’ve done way too much of that in the past couple of weeks, Tara. I think you have, too.”
“You have no idea what you’re talking about, Hex.”
“Then what happened to Death On Tracks, Tara?”
Her face contorted in rage. “You sonuvabitch! How dare you bring them up!”
“Did you run or not?”
Her fingers tightened around the mug in her hands, and her arms shook from the tension. All vestiges of composure disappeared, as barely controlled anger took over. She seethed back at him, “I didn’t run.”
“Your word? Or the official report?”
“Both,” Tara said. “Gods, Hex. Why would you bring this up now? “
“Jessica told me. Frankly, I should have asked before now, and that’s my fault as a shitty commander. Before we get started today, I need to know the truth, Tara. I need to know if you’re going to have my six or if I’m going to have to watch for you to cut away when the shit hits the fan.”
Tara looked at the horizon for a few seconds and wiped away a tear Hex didn’t see fall. She sniffled and sat down on the ground next to him. “We were on Essex Five, going after a mercenary force called the Wandering Death. The Jivool on the planet contracted them to secure key terrain at any cost. Commander Schwartz put us into a defensive position solid enough to hold off an attack for days. We had artillery support on all our obstacles, we had the advantage for our direct fire systems, and we had air support out the ass. All we had to do was hold, and we did until the bastards charged us from short range with a full company of heavy armor and about a thousand Jivool infantry. They hit one spot with everything they had, sucked all our direct fire assets onto it, and hit us with artillery and aerial strikes to disrupt command and control. Schwartz died in the first wave, and the command post went dead fucking silent. All communications were jammed or down. We couldn’t call in our transports. We had orders to withdraw from the jammed environment and save ourselves if that happened. I followed those orders with my four tanks. No one else made it out.”
She took a breath and wiped her nose with one sleeve. Hex asked, “Then why did you lie about not dropping? And why do people think you ran?”
Tara snorted. “We were a mostly human unit, and I was the junior platoon commander. Not to mention being a woman, Hex. It was easy for people to assume I ran instead of doing my job. I’d rather have died there than run. The official report clears us of wrong doing and paints a very accurate picture of what happened. But I’ve got fifteen other folks who can’t find work either.”
Hex squinted. “What about the Guild?”
“The Guild takes no official position on what happened at Essex Five.” She looked at him, and he knew there was much more to the story. Mercenary forces fighting one another, even under proper contracts, was a dirty part of the business no one liked to acknowledge.
“What did Hak-Chet offer you? It had to be more than a job.”
Tara sipped from her coffee mug, obviously putting the words together carefully. “Call it redemption, if you want, but he offered a recommendation for me and my soldiers for future employers. That’s why we’re here, Hex. My troopers and I are going to do everything we can to make this mission succeed. You have my word on that.”
Hex reached out a hand and touched her elbow. “I’m sorry. I needed to know.”
Tara nodded her head but did not look in his direction. “There’s a lot of shitty things we have to say and do in this business.”
“There’s also nothing more important than trust, Tara. I have yours and you have mine.”
She looked at him, her eyes still bright from tears. “This is about a lot more than trust, Hex. My troopers and I are at your disposal. I wouldn’t say that to a shitty commander.”
Hex laughed and saw her smile. “Everybody is getting ready?”
“Just as you requested, Boss,” she said. “You want to wake up the Peacemaker?”
Hex shrugged. “It can wait a few minutes. My father used to tell me that the best things he learned about those he fought with came from eating chow or drinking coffee with them. I seem to have at least a half a mug of coffee left, and a few minutes to enjoy it. Care to stay?”
* * *
Beep.
Jessica assumed the beep was part of her dream of the wide, blue Mediterranean off the eastern coast of Spain. The air was warm and caressed her face as she stood overlooking the old Spanish castle town of Tossa De Mar.
Beep.
The noise wasn’t part of her dream. She clawed up from sleep wondering what it was. None of her own technology was programmed with an alarm that beeped. She hated the damned things. Why she would have set a beep as an alarm on her slate made no sense.
It’s not my slate. It’s Hex’s calling mine.
Lucille!
Jessica rolled up from her bunk and grabbed for the slate. She dispatched the alarm with a keystroke, and Lucille’s voice sounded from the built-in speakers. <
Jessica blinked and rubbed her eyes. “I’ve got it, Lucille. I’ll bring it down and get it reinstalled. Can you continue with the other systems?”
<
In the cool morning, she padded across the small housing unit in a t-shirt and underwear to her coveralls. The two nearly identical chipsets were in the left thigh pocket. She pulled them out and snapped on a light that made her wince. The Raknar’s chip was three times as thick as the one with her father’s callsign on it. They had a similar connection pattern, but the materials were very different. She’d forgotten to compare them after leaving the Raknar in exhaustion. Even Klatk commented that she needed sleep, and she barely managed to get to her housing unit, peel out of her uniform, and fall into bed.
A glance at her watch and some early morning math confirmed she’d slept a little more than five hours. Her alarm was set to go off in 30 more minutes, so going back to bed made exactly zero sense. The ache in her head was still there, so she collected more CASPer candy from her coveralls and dry swallowed two before tugging herself into her uniform.
As she sat down to strap on her boots, she studied the two chips and chastised herself for getting her hopes up about a silly idea that a chip from Earth would fit a gods-damned Raknar. Boots on, she strapped her armor and laser pistol to her body, slipped the chips into her pocket, and fumbled around in her hip pocket for a bottle of water. The tepid water woke up her insides and kicked her brain into full waking mode. Some coffee would be
in order, and then she could get the chip reinstalled, provided the two mercenary forces and their colonial supporters weren’t charging across the plains at them.
“Lucille? Is Hex awake yet?”
<>
Let him sleep. No doubt one of the tankers has coffee ready. She smiled at the thought of her father telling her mother that no son or daughter of his would ever be a dumb-assed tanker. As a result, she’d never considered it and neither had her brothers. Still, though, the tankers would have coffee, and while it would never be as good as what the starship crews had, it would be enough to get her working.
Gear in place, Jessica opened the door of the unit and looked out into a calm, dark night. Above her on the slope, she could see the muted red lights of the Altar colony. A few shadows moved along the walls, suggesting the early plan was in motion. She reached down, grabbed her laser rifle and slung it over her right shoulder with the barrel pointing down, across her body. With a deep breath, she closed the door and headed for the tanks and the promise of a cup of coffee.
Sure enough, the tankers were awake. She approached Demon One from the front, casually and without really thinking. There was the click-clack of a large caliber machine gun from the vehicle, and she froze.
“Halt. Who goes there?” a familiar voice called.
“Peacemaker Francis.”
Peacemaker (The Revelations Cycle Book 6) Page 23
