by Mark Wandrey
Only three feet from the alien, he could see its eyes were wide with anger and fear as it followed him and tried to take another shot, its weapon held in both hands. With only two feet left before the hatch, Rick pulled the trigger and hosed the last alien with all five-remaining rounds. It screeched as it fired, as well. The last thing Rick remembered was a splash of blood and a cool slashing against the side of his face.
* * * * *
Chapter 16
EMS Pegasus
Approaching Karma System
Hyperspace
They’d used the week in hyperspace to make as many repairs as possible. They’d also buried Specialist Ja-klie, a young Cochkala who’d signed on just before the cruise. The casket was empty except for a commendation from the Hussars; the particle beam from the enemy battleship hadn’t left any actual remains.
Alexis said some words, but her mood was too dark to put the same level of feeling into them as she’d done the last time. She was getting damned tired of burying her crew for nothing. Dying on a contract was different. Even the non-merc races understood the risks. The pay overrode their species’ natural fear of putting themselves in harm’s way. They were finally about to arrive at Karma.
“Prepare for transition in one minute,” the computer announced.
“Set Condition One,” Alexis ordered. Paka and Glick looked at her, but the order was carried out. Everyone was thinking the same thing. Would there be a fight here, too? “Drone Control, stand by for combat launch.”
“Standing by.”
“Transition in five, four, three, two, one…” A moment of falling, and the stars were back.
“We’re in the Karma system,” Chug confirmed. Flipper looked at his sensors, searching for targets.
“I have the expected squadron of system patrol craft,” he bubbled.
“I have radio contact,” Hoot said, and a translated voice came over the PA system.
“EMS Pegasus, this is Karma traffic control, we have your transponder. Welcome back.”
It took several hours for Pegasus to lose the considerable velocity she’d had when entering hyperspace. Even though there weren’t any signs of trouble, the crew remained on edge, even after the captain secured from Condition One. As the multiple spinning wheels of the station loomed closer, though, everyone finally relaxed. At last, they could stand down.
A dozen other mercenary cruisers floated nearby, or were docked with the station. Among them, Alexis noted, was the Bucephalus, flagship of Cartwright’s Cavaliers, which helped alleviate some of her concern. While fighting between Human units was rare, it had happened. The Four Horsemen, however, had never gone to war against each other; they had a special bond.
Pegasus stood off about a mile from the spinning station and waited for a parking assignment. As she did, other ships came and went, and shuttles flitted about on unknown missions. Many of the shuttles slowed as they passed to get a better look. Alexis imagined her ship was quite a sight. She had a huge section of torn hull on one of the reactor pods, and two ugly holes burned through her hull by the Maki battleship’s particle cannons. It was rare enough to see the flagship of the Winged Hussars in person, rarer still to see it shot to hell.
“Shore leave?” Paka asked once a parking location was assigned.
Alexis considered before answering. “I was going to say no, but we’ve been out for longer than planned. Give them 24 hours.” Paka nodded and gave the order. “I need to go over to the station and do some business.”
She’d already showered, so Alexis was ready to go. She and Paka traveled down to Deck 21 where a shuttle was waiting for her, magnetically secured to the deck. The marines were already floating over to the shuttle when she arrived with the XO.
“Southard,” she said as she entered the shuttle. The pilot saluted her, and she returned it.
“Captain,” he greeted her.
“You seem to keep ending up as my pilot.”
“Chief decided I could handle you, ma’am.” She lifted an eyebrow, and he laughed. “His words, ma’am.”
“Okay,” she said, “I’m kind of hard on pilots.” She’d been a pilot since she was a teenager and had no patience for a less-than-perfect pilot. “Everyone aboard?”
He confirmed they were, so she went to her seat. The marines were already securing themselves. Sergeant T’jto was forward with his second, Corporal Johansson. The MinSha and Human made strange partners, but that’s what they were. Behind them were Privates Zit and Jeejee chatting about something that amused them. Behind them, taking up the entire next row, was the Tortantula Oort.
Alexis slowed as she went by. The huge spider had a slate held in one of its manipulators and was focusing several eyes on the display. As Alexis strapped herself in, she tried to decide if she’d seen what she thought she’d seen.
“Something wrong?” Paka asked, strapping in next to her. The shuttle pilot, Lt. Southard, was scanning his passengers to make sure they were all properly secured. Another dozen crewmembers going on leave filled in the remaining spaces.
“I’m not sure,” she said, shaking her head.
“Want to share?” She could just see Paka’s eyes through the goggles she always wore. The Veetanho had a curious expression on her face.
“I think my Tortantula heavy assault specialist is reading Beyond Good and Evil by Friedrich Nietzsche.” Lacking a point of reference, the XO could only wonder what that meant. A minute later, the shuttle buttoned up, and the hangar deck decompressed. In vacuum, the shuttle detached from the floor and carefully exited the bay with tiny puffs of its maneuvering jets. Alexis again admired Lt. Southard’s control. She still wished they’d let her fly herself around, though, at least occasionally.
The flight to the station only took a few minutes. Alexis passed it scrolling through procurement requisitions, crew reports, and repair orders. In addition to hiring replacements for the lost troopers and crewmen, seven crewmembers’ contracts had expired, and they had elected to separate on Karma. The Hussars usually maintained a high level of retention. By her records, the company employed more than 27,000 personnel, and even with combat losses, they averaged less than a one percent yearly turnover; so the 41 casualties plus the seven terminating contracts constituted a large number.
“Is T’jto handling the trooper screening?” she asked Paka, glancing up and out a window to check their progress.
“She’s on top of it,” Paka said.
“And what about Oort?” The Veetanho looked at her boss and gave an all-too-Human sigh. Shortly before they arrived in system, Alexis had sent a recommendation to the trooper commander to terminate Oort’s contract. That would also mean Jeejee would go. She believed the Tortantula was becoming unbalanced, and an unbalanced ten-foot-wide, seven-hundred-pound spider that enjoyed using energy weapons and explosives was not a good combination. Especially considering Oort’s job was shipboard defense and assault.
“Sergeant T’jto has elected to not take your advice.”
“I expected as much,” Alexis said.
“If you did, why did you even suggest it?”
“Because that’s my job.”
“You can simply make a command decision and terminate the spider’s contract.”
“I could,” Alexis agreed, “but I won’t.”
Paka’s looked at Alexis in confusion. “You Humans,” she said, “I don’t understand you, sometimes.”
“You were a marine commander on Alicorn, and then the XO aboard American Pharaoh under my mom. Did you understand her any better?”
Paka grumbled and then gave a few of her kind’s yipping laughs. “No, not at all.”
“I decided that, as badly as the troopers got creamed on this cruise, cohesion was more important than the risk of a meltdown. Even a Tortantula meltdown.” She wondered quietly if the few remaining troopers would be enough to put a unit back together. She hoped she wouldn’t be forced to start from complete scratch.
Karma Station was chaotic, at best,
most days. Besides being the closest trading world to Earth, it was also a mercenary hub for the area, and held the largest merc pits in the Tolo arm of the galaxy. Alexis’ ancestors had said that on Karma a thousand fortunes were made and a thousand lives lost every day.
Alexis was dropped off by Lt. Southard at one of the many central hub docking points, the center of the spinning wheels of the station. The hubs were zero gravity and the ideal place for small to medium ships to dock. Pegasus was too big and would undergo repairs floating nearby in her own orbit.
Alexis floated out as soon as the pilot opened the hatch. Outside was one of the huge promenades which ran the length of the hub. Thousands of beings from hundreds of races floated back and forth.
The planet Karma was below, providing a breathtaking vista for the first-time visitor. Alexis had first seen it when she was five, but planets had never been all that fascinating to her. Sergeant T’jto and his squad headed off in one direction immediately. She knew they were making for the station’s merc guild office to file their request for personnel. Most companies would need to go to the planet to meet potential mercs, but they were the Winged Hussars. They didn’t go looking for personnel, personnel came looking for them.
“Hey, Captain Cromwell!” she heard as she walked through the departure gate, and a Jivool stutter-slid over to her. The Jivool was huge, ursoid, and from a merc race like her own.
“Commander Gukkal?” she asked. It was a guess, but she only knew a handful of Jivool by name, and only one who was white.
“None other,” he said. The floor of the promenade had grated floors and a gentle overhead airflow. You could jump and soar, but the current always pushed you back down. A few of the flight-capable races flew along, wholly in their element. “Are you here looking for work?”
“No,” she said as she made room for more of her crew exiting the shuttle. Over the lock, the programmable display said “Pegasus – Winged Hussars” in several changing texts. English rotated through every few minutes. “We’re hiring some personnel and doing some repairs.”
“I heard you had a ruckus,” he growled and grinned, showing long razor-sharp canines. Fuck, Alexis thought, a ship must have come through from Sulaadar right behind them. They’d only been in Karma a little more than a day.
“Just a second,” she said to the grinning bear and touched her pinplant. “Edwards,” she transmitted without speaking aloud.
“Here, Captain,” he replied instantly. He’d been left in command while she was away.
“The word about Sulaadar has already reached Karma.”
“That was fast,” the TacCom replied.
“My thoughts exactly. Best keep an eye out for any Maki ships. Keep a shield watch on duty and the sensors hot until repairs begin. No one would be crazy enough to risk damaging the repair ships, so we should be safe then.”
“Aye, aye, Commander,” he said, and she turned off the pinlink. Commander Gukkal was waiting patiently. “What did you hear about us?” she asked.
“That you shot up a bunch of Maki ships and ran like hell.” Not too far from the truth, she thought.
“They had a blockade on Sulaadar,” Alexis explained; “they thought they could war prize or press gang any mercs who came through.”
“Weren’t bargaining for that flying kill stick of yours, were they?” He was still smiling, and Alexis wondered what he was getting at. “You want to consider hiring Kaashu Baaku?” he asked. Now she was even more curious.
Five years ago, she’d done a deal with the Jivool that involved a hot extraction of several companies of mercs trapped after an op went south. By the time the Hussars arrived, it was a total Zuul screw. Kaashu Baaku were the only ones still alive. The Hussars shot their way in and extracted the survivors, minus all their equipment. Most mercs would be grateful for having their asses pulled out of the fire, especially big furry, flammable asses. That wasn’t the Jivool way. They tried to file a grievance against the Hussars with the guild. Breach of contract for not arriving in time (they arrived 5 days ahead of schedule), and disregard for company equipment and essentials (nothing in the contract stipulated the Hussars were required to get their junk off the planet, only their personnel). The guild sided with Alexis, and ever since, they’d been on the bears’ shit-list. Having the Jivool company suddenly offer to sign was not normal.
“We’re putting out a hiring notice to fill our personnel roster. Any extra personnel you have are welcome to apply,” she said.
“No,” he said, shaking his huge muzzle from side to side. “Why not just hire us instead? We’ll take care of it all for you! Simpler, faster, and we all win.” His tiny black eyes were like ink spots on a pure white piece of paper. They regarded her intently.
“I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to pass,” Alexis said, shaking her head and smiling. “We prefer to hire directly. Subcontracting is too complicated.”
“What, you no trust Jivool?”
Alexis hesitated the barest heartbeat. “Actually? No, I don’t.”
The tiny black eyes narrowed, and Alexis flipped her long white ponytail over her shoulder so she could casually put her right hand on the butt of the GP-90 compact assault pistol. Behind her, Paka had a hand in a shoulder bag she was carrying, but nothing had come out yet.
“You insult us,” Gukkal grumbled.
“You’ve tried to cause us grief a number of times since we saved your bacon five years ago.”
“That was unfair—”
“I think it’s about time for you to move along,” a voice said in clicks and chirps. Gukkal turned his head slightly to observe Sergeant T’jto standing a few feet away, a laser carbine slung cross body and two foot-hands resting on its stock. The Winged Hussars logo was clearly painted on her thorax.
“You leave us to our business, crunchy bug,” Gukkal said.
“Who you calling bug, meat sack?” His head turned again, and he found Private Zit almost behind him. The Goka had no evident weapon, but an unarmed Goka was just as scary as an armed Goka.
“Yeah,” another voice grumbled and scratched. Oort was only a few feet away on the other side. Jeejee was in his saddle, and, unlike the others, he already had his massive hand-cannon out. Alexis didn’t see Johansson, but she knew the sharpshooter would be nearby.
“Your fate is your own,” the Tortantula said. “What you do here is not written in stone. Choose a wise path. I do not wish to kill you.” Everyone turned to look at the massive, hairy black spider. Gukkal stared at Oort, his jaw falling open slightly.
“Y-you are trying to provoke me,” Gukkal managed to stammer as he moved sideways, out the only exit left to him by the encircled mercs. “I will not forget this.”
As he turned he almost walked right into Johansson, who was tall for a Human female. “Neither will we. Bye, now.” She tried to push him away, but the Jivool shrugged her off and stormed away. Johansson joined the others. “Well that was fun,” she said to her commander.
“Yes,” T’jto agreed; “what was that about?”
“I don’t know,” Alexis said, eyeing the Tortantula suspiciously. If this had been a few weeks ago, the spider would have been sucking out Gukkal’s bodily juices by now. What the fuck was going on in that little brain? She regretted not ordering her to be let go. “Everyone needs to be on guard.” She turned to Paka. “Send a message to all crew on leave. Only go about in pairs. Watch out for Jivool in particular.”
Paka nodded.
“Go and deliver the recruiting notice to the merc guild,” Alexis ordered T’jto. “We’ll see you shortly.”
Now much warier, Alexis and her XO moved down the promenade to a glideway and slid along it out to the 3rd ring. The ring was mostly full of offices, including the Karma offices of the Winged Hussars. A Human secretary greeted her as she entered.
“Welcome back, Commander.”
“Good to be back, Wendy.” The woman was in her thirties, blonde, and extremely attractive. Like Alexis, she was not native to Earth.
She’d been born on a Human freighter plying its way through the galaxy. She’d left to find her own path a few years ago, and, low on funds, had responded to an ad Alexis ran for an office manager at the station. She’d learned bookkeeping and other clerical work on her home ship and liked the idea of staying at Karma for a few years. That was five years ago. “Anything urgent?” The woman indicated the waiting room in the adjoining office.
“There’s a representative of the Cartography Guild to see you,” Wendy explained. “He requested a meeting before I even knew Pegasus had transitioned to Karma.”
“I was expecting this,” Alexis said. Wendy looked confused, but didn’t push her boss. “Give me five minutes to get settled and show him in. Have you heard from the maintenance contractors yet?”
“Yes,” the woman said and handed Alexis a slate.
“Excellent. Paka, go ahead and work with this and coordinate with T’jto for interviews while I deal with the Lord of the Rings.” Paka snorted at Alexis’ favorite nickname for a leader of the Cartography Guild.
Alexis walked to her office, passing the small employee lounge on the way. A Human male was inside, looking ghostly white and holding a dripping towel against his head. He wore a Hussars uniform with a logistics patch, the name “Sommerkorn” on the chest. She wondered what that was about as she entered her office and closed the door with a sigh. When was the last time she’d been here? Six months ago? A year? She’d lost track. The office was simple, with a desk of polished metal, a comfortable chair behind it, and four for guests. On the other side of the office was a conference table with 12 chairs. There was also a small bathroom and an autochef for late nights. It was sufficient.
She set her shoulder bag down and sat in her chair. Entering a code into the slate built into the desk unlocked all its functions and the multiple Tri-V came alive. There were messages from Home waiting. She decided to wait on those for now, and instead touched her pinplants and spoke.
