by M H Questus
“Schnider, tell me who hired you.” Morcos narrowed her eyes and leaned closer to the control panel.
“Ha! Yeah, very funny Marshal.” Schnider smiled, his mouth only half-full of teeth. “I ain’t dumb enough for that.”
Morcos opened her mouth at the same moment that the heavy wrench swung at Schnider’s head. There was a satisfying thunk as it impacted, and a gush of blood erupted from his forehead. He turned to see Zousizhe, pulling the wrench back for another swing with her left hand, her right pointing a small holdout pistol at the man.
“Stacy!” Morcos shouted as Schnider snarled and hurled himself at the smuggler. “I need him alive!”
There was a flash of blue light and the display went dead, the bolt passing through Schnider and hitting the camera.
“Stacy! Stacy!” Morcos shouted, hammering the call button. “Come on, come on, come on.”
“I’m here, Marshal.” The voice of the smuggler came through the intercom, sounding strained. “I’m opening the airlock.”
“What about Schnider?” Morcos frantically tapped on her datapad for the constables to bring an ambulance.
“Oh, he’s alive. For now, at least. Clipped him through a lung, though, so you might want to hurry up with those medics.”
“I will. Thank you.” Morcos rushed towards the airlock door into the freighter.
“Don’t thank me until after you see the bill, Marshal!” came Zousizhe’s voice from the intercom, and Morcos smiled grimly as she ran.
Chapter 14: A Cost for Everything
The constable sergeant who arrived was obviously frustrated and annoyed. Morcos had made her way to the bridge of the freighter and was checking Schnider’s pulse as the sergeant approached.
“More of your handiwork, Marshal?” asked the sergeant, hands on her hips. She looked frustrated, even through her helmet.
Morcos forced a smile. “I’m going to go ahead and assume you had to clean up at the fish store already today.”
“You assume correctly,” agreed the constable, shaking her head. “We barely had time to finish there before the call to come here arrived. Somehow I knew you’d be the one to cause whatever all this is.”
Morcos shrugged broadly. “What can I say. I’m a doer.” She pointed at the unconscious and bleeding Schider at her feet. “Stabilize him, cuff him, then deliver him to the Courageous. Same for the unconscious deputy on the floor outside.”
“Isn’t she one of your deputies?” The constable’s helmet concealed her upper face, but the lines around her mouth showed her confusion.
“On the fence about that at the moment, honestly, but my orders stand.”
“You got it, Marshal,” the constable said. She turned and barked orders back down the long hallway of the freighter.
Zousizhe, the gash on her head already covered with a healing patch, leaned back on the freighter’s control holodisplay and scowled at the officers as they hauled off the unconscious Schnider.
“What are you glaring about?” Morcos asked once the constables had left. She rubbed her arm again where Haley had shot her. “I thought he had paid in advance?”
Zousizhe’s scowl deepened. “You think passenger fare to anywhere in the galaxy will repair this kind of damage?” She pointed to where the laser blast had impacted on the delicate machinery of the cockpit.
“Doesn’t look that bad.” Morcos looked at the smouldering controls with a critical eye. The internal video camera was toast, unquestionably, but overall the majority of the instruments seemed to still be functional.
Zousizhe rolled her eyes and held a single finger up to her lips. The two women stood in silence for a long moment.
“Ah.” Morcos finally heard the low, gentle hiss of escaping atmosphere. “Yeah, that’s bad.”
“Yeah.” Zousizhe said. “While I’m docked here with the airlocks open I’m happy enough to vent some of Scorpii’s generous atmosphere. But in deep space, believe it or not, there isn’t a readily available source of replacement air.” She sighed deeply. “I could sell the entire contents of my holds and still be in the red after that one shot. And, believe it or not, the people who hired me to deliver their goods? They can be a little unsympathetic about late deliveries, no matter the reason.”
Morcos cocked her head to one side. “Why do you use such a powerful pistol, then? I would think you’d have low-damage threshold weapons on a ship, same as us marshals.”
Zousizhe shrugged, pulling the small pistol out from her back pocket where she had stowed it as the constables swarmed over the ship. She handed it over to Morcos wordlessly.
“It’s actually set pretty low, relative to its full capacity.” Zousizhe said as Morcos examined the little weapon.
Morcos nodded as she inspected the compact gun: it had no finger guard over the trigger, the battery pack in the hilt was oversized and protruded slightly past the end the grip making it a little bottom-heavy, and the iron sights had been completely filed off. The barrel had been widened, making the beam shorter ranged but packing more punch against organic targets, and slightly less likely to punch a hole straight through the hull of a starship with a stray shot. A thoroughly modified weapon, and illegal in many systems Morcos had been in, although not Scorpii.
She handed it back with a nod. “Nice piece. You might want to consider something a little less likely to cost you several thousand credits when fired on your own starship.”
Zousizhe shrugged. “I normally don’t carry it on the Freebird. It’s just because we were still docked that I even had it on me, which I suppose was both lucky and unlucky. Saved my life and ship, but it’s going to be a month before I can get back into space with the drydock damaged.” She sighed again.
“Wish I could help. I’ll see if I can get my supervisor to give you a reward for aiding in the capture of a wanted fugitive.” Morcos held her hands up at the suddenly hopeful look on Zousizhe’s face. “Remember, we’re talking an Interplanetary Government reward. The government has never been known for its generosity.”
Zousizhe slumped into the captain’s chair, swiveled back to face Morcos. “Well, it’ll be something at least. See if you can pull some strings to get the Freebird into a drydock berth somehow too. Or heck, a vacsuit team to make the repairs, I don’t care. Anything that gets me off Scorpii sooner than later.”
“No promises, but I’ll see what I can do.” Morcos gave the smuggler a quick squeeze on her shoulder. “Thanks again for your help, citizen.”
“Yeah, you know where you can stick your thanks,” Zousizhe responded, but there was no venom in her voice, just exhaustion.
Morcos left the freighter’s airlock, re-entering Scorpii station proper. She could see the ambulance, the robotic doctor’s arms gently grasping Schnider and lifting him into the vehicle.
She could also see Haley, still slumped unconscious, hands bound in a zip cuff, thrown over the shoulder of a constable. The constable’s heavy power armour, augmented for both protection and strength, didn’t seem to notice the additional weight of the deputy as he strode towards the waiting transport vehicle.
Morcos drew a deep breath, trying to decide what questions she would ask Haley when she woke up.
She was turning back towards the street, ready to hail yet another taxi, when she heard what sounded like a laser blast. And it was close.
Very close.
She blinked as the beam of vapourizing energy impacted into Schnider. The ambulance doctor’s arms, a dozen spider-like tendrils with sensors and medical implements, danced over the now-headless corpse of her primary suspect.
Morcos was calling out a warning as she ran forward, stunner again in her hand. The five constables all spun, weapons raised as they ran for cover. The second laser bolt struck one of the constables squarely on the shoulder, sparks flying out from the impact point as molten metal and shielding held against the high energy blast. The police officer spun as he was struck, the force of the blow knocking him clean off his feet and sent Haley flying t
hrough the air to land with a thud against the deck.
Morcos saw the parked hover, over a half-kilometer distant, with the driver window rolled down just enough to show the long laser rifle barrel. She pointed. “Target is in that hover!”
The constables shouted out confirmations as they raised their pistols and opened fire. The distant hover was pelted with beams of energy, most striking harmlessly against the deck, ceiling, and walls behind the vehicle. Those that flew true impacted on an energy shield protecting the black car. The blue shield began to waver as the constables adjusted their aim.
The driver shot another laser blast, but it missed everyone, striking the floor between all the constables. Morcos pulled out her second pistol, the one she kept in the holster at the small of her back, and pointed the laser down field. Her finger hovered over the trigger as she watched the constable’s shots hammer into the faltering shield.
The rifle disappeared back into the vehicle as the window rolled up. A bolt of energy smashed against the shield and Morcos could see it flicker out. The vehicle was accelerating away but had lost the protection of the shield generator. One solid shot on its engine or the driver’s side and she knew it would be down.
It sped up, energy shots flying around it. A few struck the back and bottom of the vehicle, sparks and smoke flashing on the vehicle. Morcos, still aiming down the sights of her laser pistol, watched it accelerate away and around a corner, trailing smoke.
She looked at her shaking hand holding the pistol. She shook her head and holstered her weapon behind her back.
“Are you alright, Marshal?”
“Hmmm?” Morcos shook her head sharply. “Oh, yes, thank you Sergeant.” She nodded at the constable, her voice distant and robotic from behind the heavily armoured helmet. “Is your officer okay?”
“Yes ma’am.” The sergeant slid up the armoured shield over her face. “A solid hit on him, but the armour held. Good thing that the last shot missed.”
Morcos looked at where the laser rifle’s third blast had impacted on the deck. It was less than a meter from where Haley lay on the floor. “Yes. Very lucky that they missed.” Morcos smiled grimly at the constable. “Give me your supervisor’s name; I’d like to put you and your squad in for commendations. With the gratitude of the Marshal service.”
The sergeant, an older woman with hard eyes, beamed proudly as she stood up straight and saluted Morcos. “Thank you, ma’am!”
Morcos, her mind still spinning, nodded. “No problem, Sergeant. Please have the remaining prisoner delivered to my starship as soon as you can. Extra escorts, if possible.”
Morcos saluted her, and turned to find a taxi as the sergeant began barking orders at her constables.
Morcos nodded to Kobayashi, Di Mercurio, and Chatterji as she entered the briefing room. She tossed her trench coat over Haley’s chair on her way to the head of the table, sighing deeply as she settled down.
“Well.” Morcos thought for a moment, her crew leaning forward. “Well.” She paused and tried to collect her feelings. “Well.”
“Yes Marshal, I believe we covered that.” Di Mercurio chided gently. “Are you okay?”
“Me?” Morcos thought for a moment. “No, I don’t believe I am. I’ve been shot at by one of my own deputies from less than a meter away. My left arm is killing me. I’ve been in four firefights in less than an hour, and our one solid lead on this case was just killed by a sniper who was driving around in a heavily armoured hover that made a solid kill against a moving target from half a klick away.” She breathed in and suddenly all her muscles went limp. She collapsed into her chair, holding her head with one hand, slouched back against the stiff cushions.
The three deputies were silent for several seconds, watching Morcos as she closed her eyes and took a series of deep breaths.
“Okay, I’m back.” Morcos winced as she sat up straight. “I’ve figured out why they put such awful chairs in these old starships. Makes it impossible to get comfortable enough for a good slouch.”
There was a polite smattering of chuckles. Kobayashi raised his hand, and Morcos gestured for him to speak.
“So what do we know? For sure?”
“We know Haley felt obliged to try and stun me,” Morcos said, leaning back. “I also had Schnider tell me that he planted the bomb, so we know he did the deed, but not the why or who told him to.”
Di Mercurio leaned back as she spoke, speaking more to the ceiling than to any of the assembled group. “We also know that somebody very determined didn’t want us talking to Schnider to find out.”
“Or Haley, I should add.” Morcos said. “The second and third sniper shots were almost unquestionably aimed at her. We’re lucky that they missed.”
“Really?” Kobayashi asked, lacing his fingers together on the tabletop. Morcos tapped her datapad a few times, showing station camera footage of the scene of the sniper attack on the tabletop display.
“Look. Sniper was here.” She highlighted the spot down the main corridor. “He or she had clean shots at me and all the constables.” She drew connecting lines from where she was standing after the first shot to the position of the armoured hover, none of them intersecting any of the scattered rows of cargo or pillars. “But they took this shot.”
The line that connected the hover to the constable that had been hit went past a pile of cargo. Chatterji nodded in understanding. “That stack of crates obscures the portion of the constable that was carrying Haley over his shoulder. They took the shot to make him drop Haley!”
“And I suspect that the only reason their next shot missed was the barrage of fire directed downfield at them,” Di Mercurio suggested, pointing at the video feed that showed the vehicle rocking slightly as the shield generator compensated for the return fire from the constables. “It wouldn’t shake much, but at the distance he was firing from, that would result in a miss, no question.”
“My thoughts exactly,” Morcos nodded. “So, Haley knows more than she’s told us, obviously.”
“Well, we knew that the minute that she shot you, didn’t we?” Kobayashi said, shifting his weight around his chair.
“People are complex things, Eddie,” Morcos said with a sigh. “She might have wanted to take down Schnider herself to redeem her name. Or she could be working for somebody else who wants Schnider dead. She didn’t try to kill me after she thought she stunned me, although it would’ve been an easy thing to do if I were actually unconscious… and if she were our bomber mastermind, why would she care if she killed one more marshal?”
“Well, maybe she realized she couldn’t pin your death on a helpless dupe?” Di Mercurio said, shaking her head. “Maybe she needed to kill Schnider so that he wouldn’t be able to defend himself.”
“No, that can’t be it,” cut in Chatterji. “Then there would be no 3rd party that needed to kill both Haley and Schnider. She’s a pawn in somebody else’s game, but whose game is the question.”
Morcos sighed and leaned back. “Too many options, not enough motives. We still don’t know why the Judicator was destroyed, only the effects and results of that action. It’s possible that it’s something completely unrelated to the Marshal Service at all… somebody just wanted to shut down the drydocks for a few days while they cleaned up the mess!” She threw her hands up in frustration.
The table was quiet for a long moment.
“No, I still think it was targeted.” Kobayashi said quietly.
Morcos paused, then nodded
“We have to work with that one leap, and then see where it leads us from there. Okay, Kobayashi, you check through Schnider’s datapad. See if you can find out any connections he made, recent deposits, anything that might give us our next lead.” Kobayashi saluted and nodded. “Di Mercurio, see if we can locate that damaged hover. It was probably abandoned somewhere, or disguised somehow, but there can’t be that many places to do that, even on a station this size.” Di Mercurio nodded to the marshal as well, her mouth in a tight line as she though
t about how to accomplish her task. “Lastly, Chatterji, I need you to get in contact with headquarters and get them to send commendations to that unit of constables that chased me around and cleaned up my messes. Those people did good work, and hopefully they can get rewarded for it.” Chatterji saluted.
Morcos looked at each of them in turn. “I’m going to head to the hospital, check up on Kristen. But I shouldn’t be long, and I want full reports when I get back.”
There was a confirming chorus of “Yes sir!”
“Right, we all have our jobs, people. Let’s get to it.”
Chapter 15: Medical Advice
Morcos entered the taxi, past the roaring and stomping crowd of protestors near the drydocks, and keyed in the hospital as her destination. It was a short ride, and Morcos fidgeted with her cap as she exited the hover, suddenly self-conscious. She swallowed the feeling and marched through the glass double doors under the glowing red cross on the building.
The hospital on Scorpii station was almost indistinguishable from any hospital Morcos had ever visited. The walls were all painted gentle pastels, the gentle murmur of voices and footsteps interrupted by the occasional announcement, and the air was thick with the scent of disinfectant and cleaning fluid.
The building wasn’t large, but from the front entrance to Smith’s room was still a twisting labyrinth of narrow corridors lined by gurneys and countless pieces of mobile medical gear. Broad coloured lines directed her towards the Emergency Ward, and from there up a flight of stairs and down several other corridors to the Intensive Care Unit.
She could see Smith, face covered in bandages, arms covered in tubes, past a glass wall guarded by two constables. She showed her platinum shield to the one closest to the door and waited as her credentials were checked.
“Go on in, Marshal,” the constable said gently. “You have about thirty minutes before visiting hours are over.”
