by Rick Partlow
“Well, that’s just it, Chief Councilor,” Laurent said. “We didn’t reach an agreement with Sparta; we reached an agreement with Logan Brannigan because we trust Logan Brannigan to keep his word. If we trusted Sparta, then no doubt we wouldn’t have spent the last few centuries fighting each other, on and off.” She stabbed a forefinger at Anders. “This man is an anti-Starkad fanatic, who was part of a plan by your former Guardian, Rhianna Hale, to assassinate Aaron Starkad. A plan that would have led all of the human Dominions into a ruinous war.”
“Oh, as if your Lord Starkad wasn’t bent on conquering the Dominions for himself,” Anders sneered. “Please don’t play the innocent here, Colonel.”
“Lord Starkad did once have aspirations to reform the Empire under his own leadership,” Laurent admitted readily. “I have spent the better part of two and a half years trying to convince him there’s a better way to serve the interests of the Supremacy, and I believe I have succeeded. And now all of that effort may have been for nothing, thanks to you.”
“I did what I did,” Anders said, the muscles in his jaw clenching with an obvious attempt to control himself, “because I felt as if I had no other choice, because Rhianna Hale was going to war whether I helped her or not. Because it was my duty. That does not mean I am Hell-bent for war between our nations.”
“Then prove it,” Laurent challenged him. “Starkad will not stand for the Guardianship of Sparta being the only Dominion with Alanson-McCleary stardrive warships.”
If anyone felt as out of place in this meeting as Katy, it had to be Terrin. He’d been sitting at Logan’s right hand, watching the politicians and generals exchange pleasantries in bemused silence, but now he spoke up.
“Colonel,” he said, a skeptical edge to his voice, “I built two stardrive ships in the space of a couple months. Are you telling me the Supremacy hasn’t built new ships to replace the ones we destroyed?”
Katy winced in anticipation, figuring the Starkad Intelligence chief would bite his head off. Instead, her smile and tone were self-deprecating and humble.
“Unfortunately, Mr. Brannigan, we lack anyone with the level of understanding of hyperdimensional physics you have proven to possess. The ships we constructed were based on scaled-up versions of the courier you left at Trinity station and…” Laurent grimaced in what seemed like an almost physical pain. “You have to understand, there was considerable pressure from above on our researchers to produce a result once you were in possession of the Shakak. Rather than admit they didn’t know how to reproduce the exotic material used in the drive, the head researcher simply extracted what was in the courier’s drive coil and split it between our two ships.”
“Oh, shit,” Terrin murmured.
“Quite.” Her nose wrinkled in distaste. “Lord Starkad’s reaction when he discovered that not only had we lost the ships, but that our R&D chief had lied to us was… Well, let us just say there’s an opening at that position if you’re looking for a job.”
“So, what?” Anders asked, shaking his head. “You expect us to give you one of our ships? Because that is simply not going to happen.”
“At the moment,” Logan spoke up, still sitting back in his chair, arms crossed impassively, “they aren’t your ships, General Anders.” He grinned lopsidedly. “They’re ours.”
“What?” Shupert snapped, earning a dirty look from Tarzarian. “What the hell do you mean they’re yours?”
“They’re currently crewed by Wholesale Slaughter,” he elaborated. “And while many of the personnel are Spartan by origin, I think it’s safe to say, they’re personally loyal to me.”
“Why you treasonous son of a bitch,” Shupert snarled. “I can call in a platoon of Rangers right now and have you hauled away in fucking chains!”
“Can you?” Logan wondered, not rising to the bait, though Katy knew him well enough to read the slight twitching of the muscles beside his eye as a prelude to violence. “Who the hell do you think trained those Rangers, Councilor? Who do you think they consider their superior officer? It sure as hell isn’t you.”
“Colonel Brannigan,” Janis Tarzarian said, putting a restraining hand on Shupert’s arm and squeezing hard enough for the man to wince and look at her in surprise. “What are you suggesting?”
“It’s very simple, Chief Councilor.”
Logan rose to his feet in a graceful motion, touching a control on the surface of the table and bringing up a map of the Dominions.
“We still have the same problems now we did before Wholesale Slaughter discovered Terminus. Dominions that don’t trust each other, that won’t work together, won’t secure each other’s borders. None of you will allow the others to protect the Periphery for fear it might be a ruse to build up troops, so the pirates and the bandits and the Jeuta chew innocent colonies up, and their only recourse is to hire unreliable mercenaries.” He put a hand on his chest. “Which is where we come in.”
“We?” Ruth Laurent asked, eyes narrowing.
“Wholesale Slaughter. You see, Colonel Laurent, we were once a cover, a front for a Spartan Intelligence operation, but that hasn’t been the case for some time. Wholesale Slaughter has become an entirely independent military organization, loyal to me. And I propose that we are the one entity which can operate in any Dominion, hunt down pirates, root out Jeuta strongholds, enforce treaties, without any of you worrying we might be working for the other.”
Anders seemed stunned by the suggestion, sitting back in his chair with his mouth agape.
“You don’t want the Guardianship?” He sounded very much like he’d hoped Logan would take it back and relieve him of the responsibility.
“I never wanted it,” Logan told him, laughing, and the words seemed to cut something loose in Katy’s chest, a weight she hadn’t been aware she’d been carrying for two years. “All I ever wanted to do was protect the people of Sparta from bandits and pirates…and now, I want to protect people of all the Dominions.” He shook his head. “I can’t do it as a Guardian. But I sure as hell can as a mercenary.”
“A mercenary being paid by whom?” Laurent wondered.
‘Why, by you.” Logan pointed back and forth between her and Anders. “By both of you, and by the rest of the Dominions after you bang out a treaty. And just to make sure no one gets it in their head that they can ignore those agreements and keep working backdoor deals with pirates and bandits, and to keep everyone’s minds at ease about one Dominion gaining too much of an advantage over the other, Wholesale Slaughter will remain the only force in the human worlds with stardrive starships.”
A silence fell over the chamber, broken only by soft laughter. Katy realized it was her own, happiness burbling up from inside her, unable to be suppressed.
“Of course,” Logan said, eyes on her, “we’ll need a world. A home where our families can live, somewhere independent, but recognized as sovereign by all the Dominions.”
“Somewhere not so damned hot as Revelation,” Terrin put in.
“I think we can find something suitable,” Anders told him.
“Hold the hell on!” Shupert said. “No one’s agreed to this bullshit!”
“Yes, they have,” Anders said, rounding on the councilor, eyes flaring with anger. “Or you can find yourselves another sucker to be your Guardian. And good fucking luck with it.”
“I don’t believe that will be necessary,” Tarzarian said. “The Council has every confidence in you as the Guardian, Donnell. And I have confidence in Colonel Brannigan’s word in this matter. As long as the Starkad Supremacy can promise to back the matter with the other Dominions.”
Laurent smiled, giving Logan a look of what seemed like admiration. It was hard to hate the woman, Katy had to admit. She’d been the enemy, but she wasn’t evil, wasn’t in this for her own glory. Her instinct was that Ruth Laurent, deep down, was a good person.
“I think I can guarantee we will.” Laurent shrugged expressively. “Oh, I’m sure we’ll have to make some territorial concessions
to Modi to get them to agree, perhaps apply some economic pressure on Shang, but it will get done. And perhaps this will be what everyone wanted in the end, the first signal of the reunification of the human worlds, something we can actually agree on. But tell me something, Logan. This balancing act between the Dominions, acting as our independent police force outside all the politics…. Do you really think you can pull it off?”
Logan stepped behind his brother and his wife, a hand on each of their shoulders, his eyes seeing something beyond the four walls of the room, something far in the future, Katy thought.
“We’re Wholesale Slaughter, Colonel. It’s what we do.”
FROM THE PUBLISHER
Thank you for reading Redemption’s Shadow.
This concludes Wholesale Slaughter.
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Also by Rick Partlow
If you enjoyed Wholesale Slaughter, you’ll love Drop Trooper, a brand new series from Rick Partlow!
Go to war or go to jail.
For small-time street hustler Cam Alvarez, the choice is simple. He has no family, no friends, no place in the world…nothing to lose. When his latest con results in the death of a cartel hitman, Cam opts to join the Marines and leave Earth to fight a vicious alien enemy.
Drafted into the Marine Drop-Troopers, Cam discovers there’s one thing he’s even better at than running street-con games, and that’s killing the enemy. Wrapped in an armored battlesuit, Cam finds purpose amidst the horror and destruction of the war, and the opportunity for a new sort of friends and family…if he can break the habits of a life spent alone, trusting no one.
And, if he can survive...
Rick Partlow returns with another kickass Military Sci-Fi epic. It's perfect for fans of Jay Allan, Jasper T. Scott, and Scott Bartlett.
Start your new adventure today!
About Rick Partlow
RICK PARTLOW is that rarest of species, a native Floridian. Born in Tampa, he attended Florida Southern College and graduated with a degree in History and a commission in the US Army as an Infantry officer.
His lifelong love of science fiction began with Have Space Suit---Will Travel and the other Heinlein juveniles and traveled through Clifford Simak, Asimov, Clarke and on to William Gibson, Walter Jon Williams and Peter F Hamilton. And somewhere, submerged in the worlds of others, Rick began to create his own worlds.
He has written twenty-one books in six different series, and his short stories have been included in seven different anthologies.
He currently lives in central Florida with his wife, two children and a willful mutt of a dog. Besides writing and reading science fiction and fantasy, he enjoys outdoor photography, hiking and camping.
www.rickpartlow.com