by A. B. Keuser
"I don't suppose you'd consider a water break, you look like you're breaking a sweat." Cable said as he leaned forward into his bonds. "I'm only saying it because I'm concerned for your wellbeing."
Vinnita laughed as she pulled a long straight blade from one of his goon's belts. "I've only just begun my dear boy. But if you're looking for some liquid.”
He slashed the knife across Cable's chest tearing a burning seam two inches beneath his collar bone. And cable steeled himself for the torch, but Vinnie didn't spare it a glance.
"I believe I'll let you bleed a while."
“You haven’t done your favorite bit yet, Vin.” The voice squeaked as everyone’s attention turned to the lime green splotch in the darkness.
Apparently the kid had stuck around to watch the show. One of Vinnie’s lackeys moved quickly to the boy’s side and dragged him forward.
Vinnita’s hand cracked across the boy’s face. “I should lop off one of yours to teach you a lesson. When you’re told to do something, you do it. Understand me.”
“Yes, ma’am.” The boy sounded two steps above pathetic. “But how will I learn if you never let me watch?”
“If you’re going to stay, you’re going to help.” He looked to the boy with an odd measure of pride. “Get me the bolt cutters. And while you’re at it, think about which of his fingers or toes you think I should take off.”
The boy scampered from the room as though he’d just been promised sweets.
“I have to do something to keep him occupied.” Vinnie said with a leer.
A clattering echoed through the ductwork above cable’s head and through the blurring of his vision, he saw the faint red pulse. He couldn’t dive for cover, so he dropped, letting his shoulders and wrists take all of his weight, as everyone else turned to the duct.
The sound of whispering came from overhead, and Vinnita’s men opened fire.
Cable watched just long enough to see their expressions as he gritted his teeth against the tug on his dislocated joint. If they were looking to kill the soldiers inside, they were noticeably let down, when the mangled duct fell, and the black flash grenade rolled out.
“Cov—”
The burst of light flashed over Cable’s closed eyes and piercing sound filled the small space, threatening to burst his ear drums.
In the silent haze of smoke and strobes of muzzle flash, Cable waited helplessly as his team kicked through the door and dealt with Vinnita’s crew.
The Bad Alley gangsters threw themselves out of the way as they tried to reorient themselves, but Cable knew his crew. There would be one survivor. It was all they needed.
While the ringing in Cable’s ears refused to quiet at a timely pace, his eyes were working fine. The smoke was a bit tricky with the flashes of gunfire, but he could make out the fray easily enough. Raza was the easiest of his to spot. Taller than the others, she moved in a quick and darting way that had always stood out – it was why he pulled her onto his team in the first place.
Raza took out her targets quickly and cleanly as she swept about the room with Stacy on her six. It wasn’t any wonder the two paired up so readily. They both appreciated surgical precision.
Spotting Bezzon was as easy as picking a jackal from a pack of clargs. Peezus was compensating for the lieutenant’s lack of familiarity with their maneuvers. But it was costing him in his usual accuracy.
The four had quickly dispatched all but one of the lackeys Vinnita had kept in the room to observe, and through the muffled return of his hearing, Cable heard Peezus charge Bezzon with keeping his gun on their captive. But he knew there was one body missing.
His eyes searched through the smoky room and still he saw no sign of Vinnita. The woman was neither small enough, nor sprightly enough to have hidden herself in one of the minuscule cabinets along the far wall. Cable tried to look behind him, searching for a door, but his shoulder twisted and the sharp pain from the dislocation sent a spike up his arm to the stab wound in his hand and he sucked in a sharp breath.
Vinnita had to have a second exit. She wasn’t stupid enough to let herself get boxed in.
At least that was what he thought, until the cold blade of a knife pressed against his neck and he followed the arm coiled around his neck to Vinnita’s ugly smile.
“I was wondering where you ran off to,” Cable said before Vinnita’s hand dug into his armpit, the pain forcing him to stand as quickly as his tied and bloodied feet allowed.
Vinnita didn’t bother addressing him, and Cable hadn’t expected it. The man was used to dealing with those in power, and it was clear that Cable was the last person in the room with any sort of power. The laugh that escaped him when he realized this was the first time he’d ever been a hostage was quickly silenced by a sharp jab to his lower back.
He was going to have to repay Vinnie for his generosity when he got the chance.
“Which one of you’s in charge when this lump is out of commission.”
The four of them were silent, their laser sights tracking over Cable and Vinnita both – though he had no idea why Bezzon hadn’t made his personal appeal to be leader of the pack – and Cable guessed they were discussing their options. The shiny black visors of their helmets could mute any sound from within.
Peezus stepped forward, his voice coming through the speaker ports on the side of his helmet in a frequency modulator that made him sound like an archaic cartoon chipmunk. “What do you want Vinnita?”
“My life for one, you to fuck off for another. But I don’t suppose you plan to do that without your boy here… and as soon as I let him go, I’m dead.”
“Not necessarily.” Peezus took a moment to look behind him. “We’d let you keep your life. But I don’t think that’s all you want.”
Cable bit his tongue. He didn’t need to tell the Commo that Vinnita was stalling. He’d heard more than enough stories about the gangster to know how she operated: when you’re outnumbered, keep ‘em talking until the reinforcements arrive.
But Vinnita had dropped her jacket on the work bench next to the acetylene torch, she couldn’t call for help without broadcasting that’s what she was doing. She was stalling to think this time around, and as far as Cable was concerned, that was fine.
His eyes slid to Raza, her sight tracked by his head, and he gave her a gentle nod. She’d know what he meant.
“I want you all to back out of here, slowly, and when you’re gone, I promise I won’t kill your mate.”
“No Dice. Let him go and we’ll be sure you’re set up on a decent penal colony. One where you won’t die within a week.”
Cable leaned his head to the side, ever so gently.
“I can’t believe you think I’d go for th—”
Raza’s bullet tore through Vinnita’s skull, the sound pierced Cable’s already tortured ear drum as the warm splatter of gray matter hit the back of his head.
“Sorry Boss, couldn’t take any more of her yammering.” Raza’s voice came out of her helmet with the same robotic lilt.
“If you don’t untie me, I may never forgive you.” He winced as he accidentally flexed his punctured hand. He turned to Stacy and gave her a hard stare. “I hope you brought enough genetic mesh to fix up a squadron. I want layers. Lots of layers.”
Stacy managed to only laugh a little as she helped Peezus unhook Cable’s arm. Raza thrust a pair of pants toward him.
“How’d you know?” He said with as much joviality as he could muster as he pulled them over his bloodied foot. .
“It never hurts to be prepared in any event. I have a load of other things in my bag too…. In case you’re needing something from the stock….”
“Wasn’t that the old nav scout’s motto. ‘Be prepared’ or some such?” Stacy pushed cable toward the work bench and forced him to sit as she worked on his foot. “I’m not sure you fit half the requirements.”
“And I’d never want to.” Raza crouched near the door, her gun raised as she kept watch over their only known poin
t of egress. “Think we’ll be expecting more trouble, sir?”
“She didn’t have the chance to pop this off,” Cable said holding up the beeper, “So I’d guess not. Though you never know with Vinnita.”
Stacy moved from his foot and pulled a long roll of gauzy genetic mesh from his med kit. Cable held it in place while she slathered on a cold, clear bio gel to seal it over the wound. “That should stop the bleeding. You’ll need pills or an injection to deal with the pain.”
“Pain meds are for children and government officials.” Raza’s comment was met by laughter before the sharp rap of a pistol fired.
Three guns swung around on Bezzon as the lieutenant looked down at his handiwork. “Shit.”
“We told you to guard him, not kill him.” Peezus smacked him over the head and looked down on the body of the last gangster. “Dead men tell no tales is an understatement. And now this one really is good for nothing.”
The body lay limp on the floor, blood pooling from the garish exit wound as Cable watched Bezzon stare down at his first kill on the squad. It was a bonehead mistake, and it was clear the man knew as much. There was little point in reiterating that fact.
"He's off guard duty."
He remembered the elevator down on sector ten and decided he wouldn't leave anything to Bezzon in this instance.
With Stacy finished with his bindings and a spare shirt pulled over his stiff, burning skin, Cable looked to Raza to lead them out, after all, he'd need help walking for the next half day unless Stacy had stolen the good stuff from the med bay stores. He wouldn't put it past the man.
"There's a back entrance over here," Peezus said, scraping something away from the wall. "Not sure where it leads to, but Vinnita wasn't getting out of here without making a whole lot of noise."
"That's probably why she didn't take it." Bezzon spat, glaring down at the body he’d hit.
"That, or it's a rat hole. We're not going to take the chance on that. If it winds up a dead end and we get turned around with a couple of his pie slingers on our tail, I'll have to shitcan the one who suggested we take it." Cable leaned away from the burning in his side not yet numbed. "Anyone dumb enough to advise we crawl down the rabbit hole?"
The troop was silent as Raza pulled her gun up to her shoulder. "Though the front door, boss?"
"I've always thought that was the best policy."
The squad moved out, with Stacy holding him up in the middle of the procession.
With Raza taking point, Cable let himself focus on taking each step silently. His teeth dug into his tongue as his foot pressed into the hard and dirty floor, the bandage around it already darkening with dirt and seeped blood.
Peezus spoke quietly from behind, his tone like that of Cable’s mother when she wanted to scold someone. "Next time, you shouldn't fall into a den of thieves without some backup. I, for one, would prefer to not have to patch you up as often as that would require. Besides. I may have the training, but what they did to your back is disgusting. I never want to see that again."
"Well, now that Vinnita's gone, you probably won’t have to." Caleb choked on the words, the smoke’s after effects still lingering.
"I want to know why you trusted the bastard enough to get captured in the first place."
Cable shrugged and immediately regretted it. "Let's just say he had an upper hand I couldn't have foreseen."
There was no way he could tell them about Aaron. Not yet, not without putting them in line for a court marshalling when the truth was discovered. And at this point, Cable knew: it was only a matter of time before the Admiralty did find out.
Aaron - even with his guise as KaRapp - was going about his attempted rise to power all wrong. But that wasn't much of a surprise. It was why Cable was in charge when they'd been a complete squad before.
Aaron hadn't passed the strategy tests with high enough marks to qualify. Something Cable had never told his friend was that he knew Aaron never would. His strategies were akin to sending a Malorax bull through a house of half rotting wood: brash, messy and completely lacking in subtlety.
It seemed his plan to handle Cable was almost entirely the same.
They were halfway up the stairs, on a wide landing when Cable heard it: the sound of boots descending in an uneven cadence. "The Kid."
He'd said it to himself more than anything, but his squad was on high alert and quickly fell into place in the shadows.
Tripping down the stairs with a heavy pair of bolt cutters in his hand, the kid was bopping along to whatever tunes were spilling through his ear drums from the blue glowing ear sticks visible through his mangy hair. Raza took him out quickly and quietly, one crack of her rifle's butt to the back of his head and he was down, the landing's grates undoubtedly leaving a waffle on his face. In the silence surrounding them, only the ever fading sound and light of the ear buds falling to the bottom of the well below broke through the quiet.
It was Peezus who made the first move, bending down and yanking a ring of keys from the kids belt. "Think these will get us anywhere good?"
"They should. They're Vinnie's, he sent the kid to get the cutters for my fingers."
Stacy winced beside him, swearing in a language she didn’t understand.
"What do we do with the boy?"
"Take him with us. We'll put him in the milit correctional camp. I'd leave him here, but it's obvious he's not going to do anything more than fall in with the wrong crowd. He was chomping at the bit to take me apart."
"Bad seeds like that aren't really what we want in fleet are they?"
"Not at all, but the milit correction camp isn't for the ones we want to keep."
Bezzon slung the kid over his shoulder with a grunt and they continued upward. Cable was ready to kill whoever had designed the stairs. They were murder on his already half dead feet.
Twenty-Two
The crassicau yanked her up into the ship through a broke cleft in the rocks.
With a growl, he set her on her feet.
She was in the Engine maintenance compartment – a cramped space meant for access to the ship’s underpinnings, and the claustrophobic feel was made more so by the three, dirty engine techs poking their noses out to get a look at her. Humans all, but no less dangerous.
"Things that run away shouldn't be allowed to keep their legs." A gruff little man beside the crassicau sharpened a rusted knife and glowered at her.
Mack didn't say a word. Electricity hummed all around her, If she found access to a conduit, she could easily fry the man.
"It'd be better to break them,” another said from behind a battered component housing. “Make her understand there's no point to run, that we'll do with her as we please, when we please."
The crassicau hissed at them, the scales running down his spine raising like the hackles on a dog--though she'd never seen a dog's hair change color. The crassicau’s spine lit to a deep burgundy. "She is off limits."
The three surrounding them exchanged looks, but didn’t challenge him, scurrying away to the depths of the compartment.
With a firm grip on her bicep, her captor--and unlikely defender--dragged her through the nearby hatch and back into the corridors of the Ka ship. Long tendons of conduit spanned the ceiling above them, light glowing from within. It followed them as they walked, a bright spotlight in the otherwise dark.
"Where are you taking me?"
The crassicau said nothing, and though she'd heard him tell the ones in the engine room she was off limits, she wasn't sure what that meant. Off limits to the grunts didn't say anything for those in charge... whoever that was.
The halls were deserted.
Opalescent walls curved up and overhead, an arch only broken by those coiled and bound conduits. If this was Ka tech, the historians writing her school texts hadn’t had a single clue.
Though there were several things that rang true, like the large round hatch the crassicau pushed open before her.
With a rough shove, he sent her sprawling to the
hard floor. She tried not to think about how the porous surface reminded her of bone.
“Wait,” he said. "He'll be with you shortly."
Before she had a chance to ask who "he" was, the hatch slammed shut with a hollow thud and the rattle of the wheel lock. Left alone in the vast expanse of yet another opulent room. She didn’t like the way the crassicaus kept saying ‘he’ with a reverent fervor.
When the door closed between them, when the lock snapped closed, she pulled herself off the ground and flinched at the room around her.
She was certain it had once been the ship’s control center, but what it was now….
It was spliced with odds and ends of other cultures' tech. A primitive version of the appropriation so common among her own people. Mack’s eyes traveled to the fleet issue surveillance system, a Station Security Eye Bot, its case mangled by the bastardized connections required to join it with the ship's primary components. The cables leading into it were scarred, their jackets broken where they stabbed into the sinuous fibers of the Ka system.
Energy leaked from it like the anemic flow of blood.
It made her sick, and something like tears pricked at her eyes. Something inside this room felt like death and sorrow.
No part of it was left virgin.
The idea that someone had gotten their hands on something as beautifully sophisticated as Ka tech, and rather than taking the time to find a way to make it work as it was, they'd torn it apart and made it into something ugly and broken.
She couldn’t stay there. Couldn’t look at the destruction and not want to cry.
The door Nrog had brought her through wasn’t going to be an escape, but airflow from the far side of the room beckoned, and she pushed away from the consoles and the feeling of decay.
She didn’t stop until she could breathe again without stabbing sensations in her chest.
And when she opened her eyes again, she flinched. Spread out before her, the vastness of space glittered on the edges of an observation platform.
The vast expanse lay before her, dark and glittering, the void stretched away with Inanna dominating the right side of the vista.
