For a Few Credits More: More Stories from the Four Horsemen Universe (The Revelations Cycle Book 7)

by Chris Kennedy

  Cap-Soufre’s gravity was weak, but the CASPer fell hard.

  “We removed the motor shielding to work on uprated jump-jets,” said Branco defensively. “Then we abandoned the prototype before replacing the shielding. It’s the only reason your grenades blew its jets.”

  “Understood,” said Blue. “Binnig screws you on the small print, but still builds reliable shit. But with this being a half-finished prototype and all, I get to do this…” She lashed the downed CASPer, sending more than enough power through it to be sure it wasn’t getting up any time soon.

  Sun stepped around the fallen CASPers and gave their employer a kick. “We need your data. Are you going to surrender it nicely, or do we need to give you some more motivation first?”

  “No need,” said Blue. “I’ve already learned he trusts no one and nothing, so he stores everything in his implants. We take him with us and hack his mind at our leisure back on the Midnight Blue.”

  “Not going to happen, my pretty merc girls.” Oriflamme rose unsteadily to his feet. “My CASPers can kill you hard, here and now, or you can surrender for a little interrogation first. You’ll die either way, but I swear upon my honor in front of my employees that if you surrender, I shall let your ship and its crew go free.”

  Sun and Branco moved out across the hallway and scanned the area in alarm. What CASPers? What employees?

  Blue remained where she was, and coiled the electro-whip around Oriflamme’s neck. “If you try,” she told him, “I fry your brain.”

  The Oriflamme laughed. “There’s nothing you could possibly threaten me with that my employer would not do to me a hundred times worse, if I let you capture me.”

  A sudden thumping noise made Branco look up to the marbled viewing area above them. The bulkheads were hung with framed paintings of gas giant cores scoured clean by long-ago stellar explosions, and now colonized by mining operations.

  One of the pictures revealed itself to be a fake projection when it began flickering. CASPers came flooding through, lighting up their jets and circling above their heads, weaponized arms pointing down at Sun, Blue, and Branco.

  One CASPer remained standing, leaning casually over the railing above the Oriflamme’s room.

  “Squad’s suited up and on its way to wipe out the intruders,” said the commander, in a voice that sounded as if she breakfasted on whiskey, razor blades, and the body parts of anyone who displeased her. Branco recognized the voice as belonging to the merc leader, Lieutenant Taj. “Figured you might need support too, sir. Permission for main group to use heavy weapons?”

  “Denied. For now. I would rather not damage this facility because your people are scared of this third-rate rabble. More to the point, Taj, my employer would not approve. Use heavy weapons only if your CASPers are threatened with defeat.”

  “Never gonna happen, sir.”

  “I should think not. With those suits you should be able to rip them apart. Blood is much easier to clean up than the damage to property from explosive decompression. Besides, recycled flesh makes such a good fertilizer for the atrium plants.”

  “With pleasure,” growled Taj. “Sandford, Goran, Chedjou! Secure the prisoners.”

  Three CASPers descended from the air to pick off the intruders.

  Before the CASPers could reach them, Sun turned to Branco with an urgency in those dark eyes he’d never seen before. “Help me,” she said. “Guess we took one chance too many and…I don’t want to be captured alive. Shoot my sister for me. I can’t bring myself to do it.”

  “No.”

  The CASPers were almost upon them. “Please. I swear I’ll shoot you after. Their torturers will not be gentle.”

  Branco shook his head in disbelief. “I can’t believe you based your plan on a single electro-whip!”

  Defiance returned to Sun’s face. “A human girl’s gotta take a few chances to get ahead in this galaxy. Now, do it! Fire!”

  “I can’t shoot her.”

  “Don’t move!” shouted one of the CASPers. The monsters of war were upon them. One of them grabbed Sun’s Peacemaker.

  She glared at Branco with a look of contempt that could slice through hull armor. “Bet you wouldn’t have a problem if I asked you to shoot Venix. Blue finally worked her seductive magic on you, didn’t she? Thought you were different. Thought you were a man worth getting to know.”

  Branco felt a smooth gust of air as a two-foot super-dense alloy combat blade snapped out from the nearest CASPer’s arm, ending less than an inch from his throat.

  “Hold that thought,” he told Sun, ignoring the CASPer. “If anyone’s making my heart beat a little faster, it’s not your sister. It can’t be. Binnig made me immune to her allure. Blue had her pleasure centers permanently stimulated, but Binnig switched mine off. It’s their way to avoid distractions while I’m under contract. The only way I get my body returned to me is to return to Binnig with my contract fulfilled.”

  “Impressive employee motivation,” said the CASPer. “Now hand over the fucking gun!”

  “No,” Sun screamed. “Shoot Blue!”

  Even if he wanted to fire on the mercenary captain, the CASPers were deliberately blocking his line of fire. He safed his weapon and handed it to the CASPer.

  Branco looked at Sun’s face and saw the disappointment written there. He much preferred the astonishment that replaced it when he gave her a cheeky wink.

  “Listen to me,” Branco shouted at the CASPers “You all know by now where I’m from. I have a message for you from Binnig, from the development lab that your suits came from.”

  With his hands held up in surrender, he nonetheless dodged around the nearest CASPer so he could look the Oriflamme in the eye and see the look of assured victory there.

  “Mit luftpudefartøj…” Branco began, enjoying it as the certainty deserted his enemy’s face. “Er fyldt med ål.”

  “Kill them!” roared the Oriflamme. “Kill them now!”

  His CASPers did not respond.

  “What’s wrong with you? Shoot them, or I’ll have you begging for death.”

  With a hiss of pressure releasing, the clamshell fronts of the suits opened up to reveal the unarmed and very confused troopers within, wearing haptic suits wired to suddenly useless hulks of metal and advanced carbon materials.

  Branco’s capacity for joy had been shut down, but he felt a distant memory of satisfaction to see so much confusion wrought by a single phrase of nonsense, apparently a little Danish joke. “Don’t you know it’s standard lab procedure to fit a kill switch to prototype weapons systems?”

  “I do now,” said Sun as she grabbed her CL32 Peacemaker back off her escort. “Impressive. Will the phrase work on the other suits?”

  “Already done,” Branco replied. “Any suit of this model within comm range has just shut itself down.”

  “Very impressive,” said Blue, dodging the rain of mecha falling from the air, and dragging a semi-conscious Oriflamme across the smooth floor. “Now, about those suits. I think they would look good stored securely in Midnight Blue’s hold. Can you think of anyone who would want to buy experimental 8-bis prototypes?”

  “Binnig will pay 100,000 GCU per suit,” Branco replied. He’d already worked out his offer.

  “Agreed,” said Blue, “subject to formal ratification.”

  “You’ll need to clean them out first,” said Venix, arriving at the head of two squads or mercenaries, who began ripping the confused CASPer pilots first out of their mecha and then out of their haptic suits. Two of them advanced with extreme menace on Branco, until Sun shook her head.

  “Wait,” said the Zuparti, shoving his whiskers in Branco’s face. “Do we like this human male now?”

  “We do,” said Blue, passing the Oriflamme over to company mercs. “In his revised capacity as agent representing a new employer, I expect great profits from him.”

  Venix’s whiskers twitched with suspicion, but the XO was a Zuparti: mistrust came more naturally to them than breathing. �
��You humans,” he said, running a long, narrow tongue over his nose. “You’re devious, unpredictable, and can sniff a profit out of a vacuum.”

  “Thank you,” said Blue.

  “Although you are kinda disgusting about sex. Breed like bacteria, you lot. Why you can’t keep it in your pants until a mating period, like a respectable species, is beyond me. Still…I had my doubts when Gloriana put you two humans in charge. But after the stunt you’ve pulled off on this job, I have to admit she knew what she was doing. You two are tolerably competent.”

  “Will you stop with the chitter-chatter?” shouted Branco. “We’re still in a hostile environment, and we’re not away yet.”

  “Are you sure we have to take him with us?” Venix asked, sniffing Branco. “He makes me feel suspicious…”

  Chapter 7

  “When this is all over,” said Branco, “I’d like to stick with you. Figured we’ve developed a relationship worth exploring.”

  Blue’s face turned icy cold, and she looked incredulously across at her sister, although Branco still didn’t understand why Blue had asked her sister to join them in the captain’s space cabin, a private office just off the CIC.

  They were two jumps clear of Cap-Soufre and the Taphao-47 system, just one away from a trading world where they could ratify their agreements. So far there had been no obvious signs of pursuit. If this wasn’t a good time to make his request then there surely wouldn’t be a better one.

  “Am I understanding this correctly?” asked Blue. “You asked to speak with me in private because you imagine we have a relationship worth exploring?”

  “Let me rephrase,” said Branco. “When I conclude my contract with Binnig, I’ll be looking for my next berth. It’s time for me to move on, and I’d like to join your company.”

  Sun made a brief choking noise, and that was when Branco realized the nanites that had supposedly wiped his capacity to experience joy must have been faulty, because when Sun’s lips tightened first into an ‘O’, and then widened into a smile, the sight whipped a thrill through his heart.

  The two sisters exchanged a lengthy glance.

  “I have no use for you,” said Blue. “You’re not entirely without skills, but you’re not what I need, and the Midnight Sun Free Company does not carry passengers, hangers on, or hired eye candy. Not for anyone’s benefit. Now, if you’ll excuse me, we have multiple active contracts with Binnig, and it’s my responsibility to see they are completed. Some of us work for a living.”

  She pushed off and floated through the hatch, which opened automatically and then sealed behind her.

  Sun grabbed a bulkhead hold to follow her sister, but hesitated before pushing off. “Blue runs the ship,” she explained, “but I run the merc squads. I might have a vacancy in Shock Squad. Might. You’d have to do your internship, and you’ll have a limited window of opportunity to impress your squad leader and convince me to offer you a contract.”

  “How long do I have?”

  Sun looked back at Branco, tilting her head in mock disappointment.

  Branco rolled his eyes. “I got it.” He grinned. “Until contract fulfilled.”

  # # # # #

  EMANCIPATION by Mark Wandrey

  They moved in a single column, heads hanging almost to the ground. The slightly-rounded dome of their mostly-flattened shells reflected the bright bluish sunlight, protecting vital internal organs. They resembled box tortoises with rather long legs, and a lower shell that had a protrusion, allowing them to settle to the ground and use their front limbs as hands. Now they only used them to walk.

  Spaced along the column every dozen meters, the guards watched the creatures’ slow progress with the same bored indifference all prison guards developed. These guards were only slightly more interested because, unlike common prisoners, the ones they oversaw represented an impressive bottom line.

  “Not many more of these left,” a guard named Oso said to his KzSha leader, Koto. They wore a form of combat environmental suit, carefully formed to their thick insect bodies. Their wings projected through ingenious locks at the back of the suit, and, at the point of their abdomen, another lock allowed their stinger to be used in close combat, something they dearly loved. The other KzSha buzzed his wings twice, their version of the ubiquitous shrug all intelligent races seemed to develop.

  “Who is to care?” He reached out with one of his fighting limbs and took a swipe at the nearest Aku. It didn’t try to dodge, and the KzSha overseer’s razor-sharp blade rebounded with a splash of sparks. The shell showed a deep score, and the Aku shuffled a little faster. “They’re tough, at least in parts.” The other nodded and turned his head slightly so compound eyes could focus on the pile of viscera and cracked shell lying nearby in the foliage. A few bones were scattered haphazardly.

  “Expensive meal,” Oso said. “We get as much as a million each for these things.”

  “It disobeyed,” the Koto said, and then clicked his mouthparts savoring the taste. Too bad they were so useful as slaves; they could tolerate inconceivable amounts of radiation for a mammal and had the ability to breathe under water. But they were ever so delicious. His combat armor’s computer beeped to tell him he’d passed the halfway mark for allowable radiation absorption for that day.

  “We need to get them aboard,” Oso said, no doubt responding to his own radiation warning. “I guess it’s just as well we’ve almost exhausted this planet. This entropy-cursed radiation never ceases, even at night. Maybe we’ll take the last for breeding stock.” Koto nodded in appreciation. That was a good idea. If they had enough of the Aku, then the surplus could be utilized as prey and food! If they went extinct, it was no concern of his.

  Koto passed along the instruction to his platoon to try to speed up the slothful beasts. He didn’t want any of his platoon to take too much radiation. If they had to use nanites to counter the damage, it would eat into their profit margin. He watched up and down the line as his troopers began to jab, poke, and prod them onwards. They may have sped up a little bit. Maybe. One of the Aku nearby stopped, and Koto buzzed his wings at it angrily.

  “Move along you!” he snapped, but the mammal ignored his master, its armored head craning to look up with naturally shielded eyes at the sky. “What are you doing!” he snapped, getting angry. He didn’t want another million-credit meal, but if this insolent beast didn’t listen to him it might still happen. He snatched his laser rifle from the magnetic retention point on his armor and moved closer, getting ready to butt-stroke the being when his antenna picked up a sharp and reverberating BOOM echoing in the planetary morning.

  Koto looked up, his antenna swinging back and forth to test the air for more sounds. He was about to discount it as an atmospheric effect when two things happened—the alarm sounded over the platoon’s radio, and a rattling string of additional booms sounded from the sky.

  “Incoming ballistic radar signatures,” the nearest ship’s sensor technician called over the radio.

  “How many?” Koto demanded. A series of optical enhancements dropped down over his multifaceted eyes. They revealed a sky full of burning streaks.

  “Looks like 40,” the technician replied.

  “We are going to engage them with lasers before they get below engagement height,” the ship’s captain, Eshto, reported. “Order your men to abandon the village!” On the ship, half a kilometer down the ravine, Koto saw two of the mobile laser turrets come alive and begin pivoting. He used an antenna to tap the controls on the combat armor and change frequencies while looking up, eager to watch the attackers explode. His suit said the lowest was still over 30 kilometers up. Perfect. The ship’s batteries fired a single pulse of coherent light, and lightning struck.

  A white beam lanced from orbit, white-hot like a welding torch, and connected with the ship. The entire rear section of the ship exploded, sending armor and debris careening in all directions. KzSha troopers scrambled for cover. The Aku performed an incredibly fast sweeping motion with their feet, digging i
nto the ground a half meter, and dropped into the resulting hole. Only the angled tops of their shells were still visible as partially melted starship parts tore through the ranks.

  Koto saw two of his squad drop off the status board, cut down by scything debris. Another was yellow, wounded but still operational. A wounded KzSha was more formidable than the healthy troopers of many other merc races.

  “They fired from orbit!” Oso said, rising up from where he’d taken refuge behind a dug-in Aku. The creature’s head popped up a few centimeters, big eyes examining the situation before going back into the dirt.

  “Peacemakers,” Koto said. The other ship, five kilometers away on the other side of the ravine, opened fire with its lasers. It didn’t fire at the plummeting streaks, though, it fired into space. “No, you fools,” Koto said, but he was on the wrong frequency, so he addressed his men. “Orbital assault underway, rally at the village!”

  More lasers lanced up to the sky, and a missile streaked away, accelerating at incredible speed. Fire didn’t rain down on that ship like it had on the other one. He changed frequencies. “Ship Two, do you have any of the mammals aboard?”

  “Yes, we have almost 100,” came the immediate reply. Another missile raced away; this one was shot down in just a few seconds. So the ship in space hadn’t been disabled—they were holding their fire because of the slaves!

  “Change of orders, make for the other ship,” he said, “bring as many of the slave creatures as you can.”

  “But commander,” Oso complained, “they are too slow!”

  “Carry them if you must! The Peacemakers won’t kill beings who they believe are innocent bystanders.”

  “Weaklings,” Oso laughed, snatching up a shocked Aku.

  “Indeed,” Koto agreed, ripping one from its hiding place as well, and the two KzSha used their powerful rear legs to explode into the sky, wings coming alive in a parabolic arc towards their objective. A dozen more troopers followed close behind. The other ship spared some laser fire for the plummeting streaks. The 40 falling stars instantly bloomed into hundreds of tumbling, flashing, burning meteoric fires. Koto ground his mouthparts together. He knew what that meant. “Humans.”