by Brian Dorsey
“Wait!” yelled Martin, stepping between Stone and the man.
“Move!” demanded Stone.
Martin saw a hatred painted on Stone’s face she’d only seen a few times in the years she had known him. “Sir…wait.” She placed her hand against Stone’s chest. The warrior that had helped her escape and later fought her in the Echo system was the cause for Stone’s reaction, but all she could think of was a blonde girl with oily hair…and a gunshot. She closed her eyes then opened them again. “Remember who we were fighting for when we went to war with the Phel.” She looked into Stone’s eyes. “We were nothing more than assassins for the ProConsul and First Families.”
Stone’s face slowly loosened. He looked past Martin toward the Phel. “Who are you and why are you here?”
“I’m Dan-Lee and I’m here because you and the Humani’s little spat on Port Royal ruined the best chance I had at getting at the Ragna family, I decided my best option for getting out of here was to use what leverage I had to get clear.”
“What are you talking about?” asked Stone.
“He wants to kill the family of the ProConsul that ordered the genocide of his people,” said Martin, the words settling in her stomach like an anchor.
“Yes,” confirmed Dan-Lee.
“Your best option?” continued Martin. “Last time I saw you, you tried to kill me…tried.”
Dan-Lee smiled. “Since then, I’ve learned that while you…” He turned toward Stone, a scowl coming to his face. “…and this one may have been the weapons used to kill my people…” He looked back toward Martin.
Martin fought the urge to turn away, the image of that girl burned into her consciousness.
“…you were not the catalyst,” continued Dan-Lee.
“How do you know what we’ve done?” asked Stone. “Just because we were Guardsmen—”
“Don’t insult me, Marshal Stone,” snapped Dan-Lee. “There are too few Phel left that all of us do not know of the man that destroyed the last real settlement on our homeland…”
Martin felt Dan-Lee’s eyes squeeze her heart like a fist.
“…or the woman that nearly destroyed what was left of us.”
She wanted to shake her head—tell him to stop but couldn’t.
“That settlement on Golf 2 you killed so many…man, woman…”
She shook her head slightly. “No,” she mouthed.
“…and child.”
Martin kept her gaze locked on Dan-Lee but her eyes betrayed the pain she’d carried for years.
“Hmm,” said Dan-Lee. “So maybe the Xen’s pets do feel.”
“If you hate us so much, then why are you here?” asked Stone.
“That’s the second thing I realized. The enemy of my enemy is my friend. And since you were basically a tool used by the First Families, then I can use you too.”
Martin shook her head, trying to wash the vision of the Phelian girl from her mind and focus her thoughts. “What are you talking about?”
“It appears the Association is done—torn apart between the Humani, Terillians, and the Dorans. And since the ProConsul has turned your wretched planet into a walled city, I needed to get away to find time to figure out a better plan.”
“And you think you can just show up and join us?” asked Stone.
“I’m not trying to join you,” laughed Dan-Lee. “I just need to get clear of the Dorans.”
“So you really think it is that simple?” asked Stone.
“I do bring a few things to the table.”
“Such as?”
“I have been a personal guard of Council member Coppertree for several months and have learned a lot about their operations.” He paused as a smile came over his face. “And I do have a small present for you.”
“What are you talking about?” asked Martin.
“Follow me,” replied Dan-Lee as he turned toward the entrance to the transport.
“There’s nothing in there, Marshal,” reported a nearby lieutenant. “We’ve already swept the ship.”
Martin drew her sidearm. “Did you check it for explosives?” she asked, remembering the Saint’s final moments. “Did you check him for explosives?”
Dan-Lee laughed.
“He’s been checked, Major,” huffed the lieutenant.
“Just follow me,” said Dan-Lee to Stone.
“Wait,” interjected Martin. She didn’t know much about Dan-Lee other than he was a great fighter and really good at being deceptive. “I’ll go instead.”
“Fine,” replied Stone.
“Let’s go, priest,” said Martin as she holstered her pistol and motioned toward the transport.
“I’m no priest, Paladin,” replied Dan-Lee. “Just part of the game…but again, you know about that.”
“Just show me whatever you are going to show me.”
Martin followed Dan-Lee into the transport, making sure to leave enough room to react if he turned on her.
“How did you know we would be here?” asked Martin as they moved through the main passageway.
“The Council members talk freely around their guards once they get comfortable with them. And they talked about you and your Marshal Stone quite a bit.”
Martin swung her pistol toward Dan-Lee when he stopped suddenly and turned.
Dan-Lee smiled. “The ProConsul really hates both you.”
Martin relaxed her body and lowered her pistol. “That’s no big secret.”
“Yes…but that’s why when those rabid dogs she sent tried to kill the Council member I was guarding and I heard Scout Rangers were fighting with them, I figured I could use the Akota to get clear.”
“Well…you got balls,” replied Martin. “I’ll give you that—wait…you were guarding a Council member?”
Dan-Lee smiled as he reached toward a panel on the bulkhead. He pulled the cover free, letting it fall onto the deck. Inside the small compartment was a man curled into the fetal position. His hands and feet bound and his mouth was gagged.
“Allow me to introduce Councilman Coppertree.”
“No shit.”
“Coppertree was one of the primary negotiators for the Council so he knows all sorts of things the Akota would be very interested in…deals the Association had with the Humani, deals with warlords and other leaders in the Dark Zone…and lots of other things.”
Martin looked at the frightened man shoved into the little compartment. If half of what Dan-Lee said was true, this guy could help the Akota win the war. “Take him out.”
“Hard to do like this,” said Dan-Lee, holding his bound hands toward Martin.
“Fine.” Martin holstered her sidearm and unlocked Dan-Lee’s restraints. “Don’t think I won’t put a bullet in your brain if you try anything.”
“Wouldn’t expect anything less,” replied Dan-Lee as he grabbed Coppertree by the collar and tossed him onto the deck.
Dan-Lee knelt down. “Knife?”
Martin let out a long sigh as she pulled a small, folding knife from her pocket and tossed it to Dan-Lee.
Dan-Lee opened the knife, no more than 5 centimeters long. “Really?”
“That will work,” replied Martin. “You’re fucking crazy if you think I’m giving you a real knife.” She figured he had killed with far less anyway.
“Fine,” grumbled Dan-Lee as he cut the restraints from Coppertree’s ankles.
Coppertree tried to talk but all that escaped the gag was a series of grunts and groans.
“Shut up,” ordered Dan-Lee as he bounced Coppertree’s head off the deck.
“That’s no way to treat your employer,” said Martin with a smile.
“Trust me,” said Dan-Lee as he looked up toward Martin. “He deserves far worse than he will get…than the rest of them got.”
“We all deserve worse than we get,” replied Martin.
Dan-Lee pulled Coppertree to his feet. “Maybe…but these Association assholes…” He shoved Coppertree in front of Martin. “Think of everything you ha
ve seen in the Dark Zone. The civil wars…the slave trade…the genocide…they profited from it all. Every family oppressed by a tyrant, every man forced to fight and die for another’s gain…”
Dan-Lee gripped the back of Coppertree’s neck.
Martin could see his hand tighten as Coppertree grunted against his grip.
“…and for every little girl ripped from her family and sold to satisfy old men’s depravity,” he continued. “…each time that happened, money went into this asshole’s pocket.”
Martin looked into Coppertree’e eyes. She looked beyond the terror to see the evil that lurked below. She wondered what someone who looked in her eyes would see.
“They’re leeches that draw the lifeblood from the Dark Zone for their own enrichment. If I didn’t need him, I’d kill him myself.” He forced Coppertree to look into his eyes. “Slowly.”
Martin took a deep breath. She knew Dan-Lee probably had ulterior motives and at some point may try to kill her or Stone. Everything about the situation told her to put a bullet in his brain. But something kept her from doing what she knew she should. “I know you have every right to want vengeance on the First Families, and I honestly hope you get it. But I don’t know what you expect from us.”
“You can’t trust me?” he laughed. “I bet you’ve been trying to decide whether or not to put a bullet in my brain the whole time.”
“I…how can we trust you? Don’t you remember our last meeting?”
“I do,” he replied with a smile.
“Then what—how do you expect—”
“How many Akota have you killed?” he interrupted.
Martin remained silent.
“How many?”
Scenes from countless battles flashed before her. “I don’t know.”
“How many children have you left fatherless, Paladin Martin?”
Martin’s stomach tightened; she didn’t answer.
“How many children have you killed?”
“I don’t know!” shouted Martin. “I don’t know.”
“But yet you work with the Akota?”
“They…they know who the true enemy is,” snapped Martin.
“And how am I any different?”
“We didn’t destroy their entire culture. I…uh…” Martin paused. She wished she hadn’t said that.
“No, you didn’t. But don’t fool yourself; you would have if you had been able.”
“Even then,” replied Martin. “You know too much about what Stone and I have done…if I were you—”
“But I’m not you,” interrupted Dan-Lee. “And don’t underestimate yourselves. From listening to the Association talk about you, you two had already made a name for yourselves across the Dark Zone and with the Akota before this war started in proper fashion.”
“What are you talking about?”
Dan-Lee chuckled. “I would have thought one of your new Akota friends would have told you.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“Don’t you know? To them you’re the Humani angel of death.”
“I know the Scout Ranger’s knew of me. It makes—”
“Not the Rangers, all the Akota know about you.”
“What?”
“Some Akota tell their children of the red-haired dragon that steals their fathers on the battlefield.”
Martin stared at him blankly.
“What? You didn’t know?”
An involuntary tear rolled down Martin’s cheek but her expression remained unchanged. “I was doing my duty. I didn’t know the Xen—”
“And now you know the truth,” said Dan-Lee. “So if you trust a people that literally tell their children that you are a monster that destroys families, why can’t you trust me?”
Martin remained silent, trying in vain to wash the girl’s face from her mind.
“Just take him to Marshal Stone and he can decide what to do with him…and you.”
Martin followed Dan-Lee as he walked Coppertree out of the transport. This time, however, she wasn’t watching for any sudden movements. All she could think of was an Akota mother telling her child that she would never see their father again. She told herself everything she’d done was with her people in mind. Even though she was the arm of the evil intentions of the Xen and the First Families, her motivations had been noble. And she knew it.
But that Phelian girl haunted her. Despite how hard she tried—and how much she told herself it had to be done—she couldn’t free herself from that day.
Then her thoughts flashed to what she had done to Maxa’s wounded officers that dark, rainy night.
Before she realize it, they were standing in the hangar bay.
“Who is this?” asked Stone.
“This is the last surviving member of the Council,” answered Martin.
Stone’s eyes widened. “Are you sure?”
Martin glanced toward Dan-Lee. “Yes.”
“Very well, then,” said Stone, turning toward the lieutenant behind him. “Get this man to a security holding cell; a lot of people will want to talk to him.”
“Yes, sir,” replied the lieutenant, taking Coppertree from Dan-Lee. “And what about this one?”
Stone looked toward Dan-Lee then Martin. “What do we do with him?”
“Just an unmarked ship and my guns and knives,” replied Dan-Lee, “and I’ll be on my way.”
Stone turned back to Dan-Lee. “If this guy pans out, you’ll get your ship.”
Chapter 11
Mori let out a grunt as she pushed her body to sprint through the last quarter of a kilometer. Each step sent pain coursing through her body and her knee felt like it would explode but she didn’t stop…she couldn’t. She focused on the distance reading and let out another loud grunt as she reached her mark.
Mori slowed the pace on the exercise platform that had been placed in her quarters for her rehabilitation.
She looked down at the display.
Ten kilometers in 35 standard minutes.
“Damn it,” she cursed.
“That’s still better than 85% of standard infantrymen,” said the tech.
Mori slowed her pace further, placing her hands on her head to take in more air. “That,” she huffed, “would be fine, corporal…if I were only an infantryman.” She slowed her pace to a walk and tried to push the throbbing pain in her leg from her mind. “But I am Ki’etsenko.”
“I understand, Ki’etsenko Ino’ka,” said the tech. “And you’ll be back to full speed soon. You’re already so far ahead of schedule.”
“It’s not fast enough,” grumbled Mori. Every minute she wasn’t in the field was another minute Emily Martin was driving a wedge between her and Stone. “We’ll go again tomorrow.”
“You should wait at least two days for recovery,” warned the tech. “Otherwise you could risk injury.”
“Tomorrow.” She gave the tech a stern look. “There’s a lot more at stake than an injury.” She hopped down from the platform onto the floor and let out a deep breath. “See, corporal, no problem.”
“Yes, Ki’etsenko Ino’ka,” replied the tech, clearly doubting her.
“That will be good for today,” said Mori, letting the tech know it was time for him to leave.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Ki’etsenko Ino’ka,” said the tech as he turned and left the room.
As the door slid shut, Mori let out a groan and collapsed into the chair behind her. “Damn it.” She tried to rise again but fell back into the chair with a gasp as pain shot from her knee like a lightning bolt. Breathing heavily, she opened a small drawer in a table next to her chair.
Mori pulled a neuro-injector from the drawer, staring at it. “You’re not going to get him,” said Mori as she jabbed the injector into her thigh. She looked up toward the ceiling as she felt the pain begin to subside. After two heavy breaths she pushed herself off the chair.
The pain was still there, but manageable. She took a light step and quickly shifted her weight as the p
ain in her knee intensified.
“Shit.”
Mori pulled another injector from the drawer and drove it into her thigh. She stood motionless for a moment, then took another step. “Better,” she said aloud. Before the injury, two neuro-med injections would have clouded her mind and made it difficult to walk, but now…
She walked over to a cabinet next to her bed and pressed her hand against the security pad.
The cabinet opened, exposing several pistols, a tactical vest, a rifle, and her sword. She looked to the left, where Stone had kept his gear.
It was empty. He was…with her.
Mori pulled her shirt over her shoulders and grabbed a new one from the cabinet to the left of her weapons cache. She shoved her arms through the sleeves and pulled the shirt down over her torso. Next, she took a tunic from her cabinet, put it on, and began to button it. She looked back at the empty half of the gun cabinet. “Bitch,” she said aloud before grabbing her sword and latching the belt around her waist. She then pulled a sidearm from the cabinet and slid it into place on her belt.
Maybe she couldn’t run much more today but her trigger finger was just fine.
Mori took the rifle and slung it over her shoulder. “Range time,” she said aloud. When her leg was finally healed, her other skills needed to be ready.
***
Stone sat at his desk in his stateroom onboard Stormfall, his body leaned backward and his head tilted toward the ceiling.
The mission had been a success; at least the Shirt-Wearers would see it that way. The Association was destroyed and, thanks to the Phelian Dan-Lee, they even had a captive with an incredible amount of intel on Humani interests, Dark Zone politics, and possibly even the Xen.
But three of his team had died and Katalya was devastated by the loss of Magnus. And there was the fact that Port Royal would fall to the Dorans, if it hadn’t already.
He closed his eyes, trying to remember a time without death.
He couldn’t.
Letting out a laugh of concession, he sat up straight in his chair.
A buzz on the panel on his desk let him know someone was outside.
He opened the door and Martin stepped through the door.
“Sir, I’ve come to give you a sitrep.”
