by Casey Lea
“Leave.”
The girls stepped back and kept right on going. They turned and ran as soon as they thought they were far enough away. Only the two tucked close under his arms remained and Misty turned her silver gaze on them. “Hike,” she hissed and they agreed.
“Call me,” one whispered to Jace and Misty leapt forward with a growl. The girl shrieked and took off, swaying precariously when she tried to run in her sky-high heels. Most satisfying.
“Thanks,” Ace said caustically.
“You're welcome.”
“Really?”
“Really, Ace? Whores, Ace? Hookers? Prostitutes?”
“Your point?”
That silenced Misty. Perhaps she didn't really know him at all. Perhaps she didn't know guys at all. There was only one possible attack left. “What would your mother's point be?”
This time he was the silent one. He dropped his head, but then shrugged. “Wouldn't worry her.”
“Yeah, I don't believe that.”
Ace threw his hands up in surrender. “Okay, okay. Jeeze. I thought I'd escaped this type of crap. Don't send so much disgust. I was just trying them on for size, but I get your shock, so don't worry. I'll find a more uptown bar. With luck I'll meet a spoilt rich girl from Verity, or Serenity, or even Eltok, who's slumming it and looking for a wild ride out on the Rim with a bounty hunter.”
“Good. That plan will lead to much more wholesome meaningless sex.”
“I certainly hope so.”
Misty bit her lip hard enough to draw blood and abandoned sarcasm. What was the point? She didn't own Ace. “Much better.” She managed a slight smile and a nod, while clamping down hard on unexpected nausea. Why did it actually feel worse?
He nodded brusquely back and then he was gone, loping up the slope toward the port. She shoved her hands into the pockets of her combat trousers and turned to mooch down the street after Amber and Falkyn. The sound of halting footsteps made her look up. Her friends were returning as fast as they could.
“Where's Jace?” Falkyn panted and Misty’s eyes prickled with silver.
“Gone slumming. Why?”
“We need him,” Amber answered. “I just found a target. One we can't pass up. I hacked several sites, some official, some definitely not, and found a recent arrival hiding on Gratuity. It's Nikareon.”
Misty's eyes flared and Amber's face turned to a smudge of black and red. “Nikareon? You're sure?”
“Certain-sure and when the Alliance found themselves at war with the Empire they raised the bounty on him. They were too busy to chase him, so decided to tempt other hunters. He's worth fifty million. Alive only. We could claim it and stay safe at home for years.”
Misty flicked her fingers impatiently. “Where?”
“We need Jace,” Falkyn said, but she brushed past him to glare up at Amber.
“I don't need Ace. I need Nikareon. Now.” Misty's fingers itched and it was a challenge to keep them still. She wanted to grab the Doc and rip the data from her com. She managed to keep her hands to herself, but her fingers snapped impatiently and something must have oozed from her fronds, because Amber stepped back.
“Easy now,” Falkyn soothed and sent Misty a set of co-ordinates. She was on her way before she even knew where she was going.
“Wait for me,” he called after her, but she didn't stop.
“You'll just slow me down.” She glanced at her wrist and it directed her to the garbage dumps. How appropriate. This was one hunt that would certain-sure end with trash.
32
Smoke and Mirrors
Misty plastered herself against the leg of a metal pylon and watched. She was on top of a mountain of trash, one of the many old dumps on Gratuity that had been reclaimed and settled by the desperate. Its peak had been flattened and covered with soil, so dozens of shelters could be built on the resulting plateau. No, built was too strong a word. The hovels up here were no more than fresh crap dumped on old crap, with crawl spaces between.
She grimaced and ignored the silent mounds behind her. It could be worse. Someone must have bought up the entire area, and emptied it, so there were no children to worry about. She also had a com field, which meant she didn't have to smell the place.
However, Misty still had a problem. Nikareon's hideout stood near the edge of the plateau, but it was different to the other sad houses. It was larger and more solid. A ring of girders had been driven into the ground at an angle. They leaned toward each other until their tops met in the middle. Random sheets of metal and plastic had been thrown between them to fill the gaps in the circle and make a primitive home. It all seemed fairly standard, until she looked closer.
The building was much more weather-tight than it appeared. Through its shabby skin Misty could see glimpses of a darker composite. Under the discarded scraps of Gratuity lay a much more modern structure. She'd need help if she wanted to get in quick and quiet. Drak. Waiting for help was so boring.
There was also another problem. Nikareon's hideout stood alone, rather than crammed together with the other hovels. It squatted near an overhanging edge of the plateau, on an arena of packed earth and there was no way to sneak up on it. Misty's fronds were also picking up active spots in the dirt, so several electrical devices were buried there. Either sensors to scan for attackers, or mines to kill them, or probably both.
Something fell from a hut behind her and she palmed a knife, before slipping away from the pylon. A piece of tin rolled over the dirt past her, so she ducked behind a latrine wall to hide. There was a faint thud of footsteps, before the edge of a shadow appeared. It extended past the hovel and Misty relaxed. She knew that shape.
Amber helped Falkyn limp from cover and Misty scooted to his far side to offer more support. She drew more power from her com, to half-carry him into the shelter of the pylon. “What took you so long? Where's Ace?”
Amber crouched down and wrapped her arms around herself, but Falkyn eased forward to uncoil his frond past the giant metal leg. “Sorry. I don't have a warp-speed limp yet. Jace isn't answering, but I left a message. There are hot spots out there.”
“I drakking know,” Misty growled and edged further from shelter. She didn't need Ace anyway. “I've got the hot spots mapped and can EM pulse them as we advance. I need someone to hold a cloak though and keep it safe from my pulses as we go. You in, Cap?”
“I'll slow you down,” he said pointedly and Misty gave him an apologetic smile.
“You'll help me out.” She decompressed a length of garbage scraps welded together and covered in dust. “I made this while I was waiting. It attaches round our boots to camouflage them. That way you can hold the cloak high enough to stop it from getting hit by my pulses. Good to go?”
“Sure.” Falkyn hesitated, then ducked his head to stare blindly down at himself. Misty almost cleared her throat, but thought better of it. She started fitting the boot disguises to her feet instead. They didn't have time to waste while Falkyn meditated, or checked his outfit, or whatever he was doing. Nikareon could move on at any moment and she couldn’t risk losing-
Misty looked up from her boots in belated understanding. There were mines out there. Probably a lot of them. Drak. “Sorry, Cap. I wasn't thinking. You don't have to come. I can try protecting the cloak with one arm while I pulse with the other.”
“No.” Falkyn stopped his blind study of his maimed body and moved to Misty's side. “No, I'm well enough and you need help for this.”
He decompressed one of Misty's new guns and she looked at him in surprise. “Save the weapons till we get in.”
“It's for Amber. To cover us.”
“What?” Misty and Amber demanded together.
Misty tapped the toe of her boot and its impatient clank gave her enough relief to keep control. “Couldn't she go find Ace?”
The others ignored her. Amber stared blankly at Falkyn, while he carefully wrapped her fingers around the grip. “Trigger here. Don’t touch unless you must. Hide behind something
and keep watch. The gun's just a final resort. If you see anyone, your first option is to ping my com. Okay?”
Amber's voice was sharp, despite her shaking hands. “Not in the least. I'm not Misty.”
“Thank the gods,” Falkyn pointed out.
Misty scuffed her toes loudly. “I'm right here.”
Amber sent an apologetic pulse, but Falkyn gave one of his half-grins. The heavy gun slipped when he let go and Amber caught it awkwardly. “I can keep watch,” the healer said, “but I don't know how to fight. If I see danger, I'll most likely shoot myself.”
“That works,” Misty agreed brightly. “We just need a warning.” She gave Amber a casual salute and slipped around the pylon. It was way past time to be moving. They needed to get in and out now, while they still had an exit. She wasn't fool enough to trust Amber to secure their escape route. That one couldn't secure a crippled tweet.
Falkyn joined Misty and gripped her shoulder firmly. The ground ahead of them rippled and then steadied when he engaged a camouflage cloak. They stepped out together and their progress was faster than Misty had feared. Falkyn leaned on her shoulder and took great striding limps when she dashed between heat sources. They left a trail of dead devices behind them and reached the hideaway unannounced.
A sheet of corrugated iron rose above Misty, but it looked strangely dark and flat. Her eyesight must be shifting to Beserk vision. She scowled and placed her com against the wall.
“Blasting,” she informed Falkyn an instant before she did. There was a roar and her arm flew back, buffeted by the blast despite her energy shield. A hole appeared in the brittle skin blocking their way, as well as the more substantial carbon wall behind it. “We're in.”
Misty threw herself through the gap and Falkyn scrabbled after her. She didn't wait for him, but she didn't have to. There was only one room, with a few partitions. A figure was rising from a table and it came at her fast, but Misty already had her gun out. She aimed at the red blur in the middle of a chest and fired. The bug struck true and she could see stasis spreading from it as a dark shadow. Drak. She needed to verify the target before his com field froze and hid his face.
“It's me,” a voice said from behind and Falkyn limped to join her. “Is it Nikareon?”
“Can't tell. Give me a minute.” Misty took a deep breath and tried to calm down, but it was much harder than usual. She hadn't been this close to the killer since she was an unborn baby.
She closed her eyes and willed them to turn. She had to be sure. Misty opened her eyes and breathed in sharply with relief. She could see and the sarcophagus was still forming. She fell to her knees beside the prisoner and her relief vanished, while something clenched in her chest. “It’s not Nikareon.”
“Nope,” a cheery voice agreed from above and the Beserk dropped onto Misty. She hit the floor half-winded, but still writhing wildly in an effort to buck her attacker off. Stars, he was heavy. Not that it mattered. She’d show him what Beserk truly was.
“Misty,” Falkyn roared and her attacker’s fronds tucked tight at the power of that cry.
Nikareon was distracted and Misty tried to claw his throat, but he reared away, then swayed sideways. A bug fired by Falkyn missed, but she stopped trying to break free from the male still on top of her, to shrug another gun from her com.
She had no chance to use it. Nikareon grabbed her wrists and slammed her hands against the ground on either side of her head, then rolled them both across the floor, just before Falkyn’s gun roared again. Another miss.
The Beserk jammed Misty behind a crate that seemed to be in use as a table and pinned her flat. His fist came to rest softly against her temple, but she could hear the hum of his com’s blaster.
“If you want this fluff to live,” Nikareon called to Falkyn, “stop annoying me.”
“Very well,” Falkyn agreed and Misty groaned. What a tweet.
“Back off,” the Beserk ordered and to her amazement she could hear Falkyn limping away. Unbelievable. It seemed she had to do everything herself.
Misty shifted to full combat mode and totally Beserk in a second. The room spun and she went with it, twisting to throw Nikareon through the air. He landed lightly, but she was already on top of him. She tackled him round the throat, which dropped him to his knees and he started to laugh. Bustwing.
Misty gave a guttural laugh of her own and ground her fingers into Nikareon’s throat. He made no effort to pull them away and instead rested his fist gently against her wrist.
A hint of caution had just appeared in Misty’s thoughts, when Nikareon fired and her com exploded. Her body went into instant spasm, while her mind tried to shut down. She was hot and cold at once, with her wrist on fire while the rest of her froze. She was also drakking annoyed. That had been a brand new com.
Ten agonizing seconds passed before Misty could lift her face from the threadbare carpet and go straight back into fight mode. However, before she could roll onto her back, a fist slammed into her spine and she lost all feeling below the waist. There was only pain. She grunted and ignored the tears fogging her sight to strike back with her elbows. The Beserk lowered himself to flatten her once more, so she snapped her head back to butt him in the face.
Misty felt her attacker’s pain, but he only laughed. “The mice on this world surely can squirm. Do you squeak too, little mouse? Who sent you?”
“Nobody sends me. I’m Mistwing FarFlight. I go where I want and I stamp what I want, which means you.” Misty forced her eyes to focus and tensed for another attack, but Nikareon’s weight lifted before she could move. She rolled over and came straight to her feet. She staggered a step – she clearly needed to practice life without a com more often – but her enemy gave her time to recover.
In fact the Beserk made no effort to fight back at all. He released his com and it fell to lie at her feet - a broken circle of silver. Nikareon sank to his knees and placed his hands behind his head.
Misty felt a wave of alarm at the crazed surrender and almost struck him anyway. It took all of her control not to. She stood caught by indecision and wished her normal vision would return.
“Are you kay?” Falkyn called from the doorway. “Nice job, Misty. My frond says he's kneeling, but be careful.”
“Good advice,” Nikareon said softly, “Misty is it? A kres with Beserk vision. Your parentage must be quite unique.”
“Be quiet.” Misty balled her hands into fists and concentrated. Her everyday sight returned, but Nikareon’s slight smile told her nothing.
“Your control is excellent,” he observed with apparent delight.
“You really can't take good advice can you?”
Nikareon chuckled softly. “You know me so well already. That's not really surprising, since we're most intimately related.”
Misty ignored the needling and stayed on her toes, but a whistle from Falkyn made her head snap round, just in time to see a com sailing toward her. She snatched it from the air and slapped it round her trembling wrist. Her shaking instantly stopped and she dropped a sword into her hand, before stepping close to her uncommed prisoner. “Hands,” she ordered and he brought his arms forward to cross at the wrists without protest.
Falkyn stumped to join them and snapped a restraining band above Nikareon's hands. Misty leaned forward to check he had the tie in the right place and finally relaxed.
She tossed her sword back into storage and the Beserk gave an exaggerated sigh of relief. “Well, I can sleep better now. Though a sword does suit you, daughter dear.”
Misty's world turned instantly to haze and all she could see was red. It pulsed like rubies in Nikareon's head and chest, as enticing as buried treasure. A hand gripped her wrist and she almost struck out. Its bones were links of gold in a purse of skin. So easy to break into.
“It's me. Falkyn.”
Misty held herself on the edge of mayhem. Why was Cap touching her now? He should know better. Her eyes flicked back to Nikareon, sitting very still at her feet.
He
looked up and his voice was soothing. “It was not my intent to offend. That was just a happy side effect. A bonus if you will, but an unexpected one. You must know that I replaced some of your DNA with my own chromosomes. I am partially your father.”
Misty's fist struck squarely in the red and the Beserk went down. Falkyn's grip tightened, when she hefted the sword in her other hand.
“Mist, no. The reward is alive only. Stop.”
The command sliced straight to Misty's brain and her body obeyed before she could think. She froze with her sword half raised. Falkyn gently placed his hand over hers and eased the blade from her grip.
She let him do it, but started shaking. “Hold me back. I mean it, Cap. When I think of what he did to us... just hold me.”
One strong arm and one rather thinner closed around Misty and she dared to relax.
Nikareon groaned and rolled over, before staggering upright. “Good plan,” he said to Falkyn. “I'd keep her away from cutlery too.”
A primal noise rose in Misty's throat and vibrated through her. She tensed against her maimed Captain and he started to tremble with the pressure, but Nikareon ignored her rage.
“Shall we go? Custody awaits, but don't fear for me, my devoted daughter. I knew this day was close. In fact, I've wanted to hurry it for some time now. Unbelievable, I know, but then the truth often is.”
“Tell it to a jury,” Falkyn growled and staggered when Misty pushed his weaker arm aside. He grasped her harder with his other and twisted his free hand into her hair. She seemed to be snarling and felt her face contort, but control was impossible. Only her Captain's physical and mental grip kept her from throwing herself at the cursed Beserk. His figure remained a blur of targets and vulnerabilities, all of which she ached to hit.
“Mist,” Falkyn gasped, “we need to go. Before anyone learns we've grabbed fifty million credits worth of bounty.”
Misty finally managed to stop struggling. He was right. This was business and she needed to be professional. She closed her eyes and counted quietly. When she looked at Nikareon again she could see normally. “Kay, Cap. Let's get the gat out of here.”
