Mercs!

by Dorian Dawes

  “Don’t lie to me. I get it. You’re human, law-abiding. Got your shit together, don’cha? Rest of us must have done something real awful to wind up where we are, ’cause the system’s been so damn fair to you.”

  “All right, I get it.” Talisha covered her face with her hand. “I didn’t mean to offend you, and I apologize.”

  “Can’t kill a steer with intentions, now can ya?” Rogers sniffed and moved on.

  There’s not too many feelings worse than guilt. A broken heart, sure. Betrayal is definitely up there. Losing someone you care about, probably top of the list, but right below that is pissing off someone whose opinion truly matters to you.

  She groaned and turned to follow him back into the cave.

  As she neared the campfire, she heard a soft voice singing a Karstotzkiyan hymn. Bluebird was conscious and holding Jefferson against her chest, stroking his hair. Her wounds seemed to have healed quite a bit. Her eyes were closed in a serene expression of motherly tenderness. She looked up, having noticed Talisha’s approach.

  “I thought Karstotzkiyan songs were meant to be sung loudly,” Talisha said with a wry smile.

  “That is mostly true, but the Hymn of Belegor is special,” Bluebird said. Her voice was quiet so as not to disturb the sleeping bandit youth. “It is about a great battle that occurred outside the home of a lonely widow and her five children. She took them below to a bunker she had prepared to keep them safe, and, while the bombs raged outside, she sang to them so they’d be less afraid. It’s a reminder to our people not to forget our loved ones and families. They are worth more than all the glory in the universe. It is meant to be sung in the same voice of Belegor to her sons and daughters, a lullaby to soothe them to sleep.”

  “Thank you,” Talisha said, sitting next to her. “For being so kind to him.”

  “He is a lost little lamb,” Bluebird said, and stroked Jefferson’s hair. “A victim of circumstances, no different than any of us. When I woke, he was shaking and hiding, so I sang to him.”

  “There’s got to be something we can do. Maybe something in the temple might find a way to put this planet right.” Talisha lay down, folding her arms behind her head. “Valran technology is something else. They might have a way to fix things.”

  “That would be nice wouldn’t it? But I do not trust things will change for any of these people,” Bluebird sighed.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Ever been to Phebes? It is a city on the planet Felkor. Full of poverty and corruption. Back when I was with the Sapphire Knights, I was part of a troop meant to oversee new order. Funds were diverted to the city in an effort to stimulate economic growth, provide new jobs, better education.”

  “Isn’t that something that should be done anyway?”

  “Of course, but shut up.” Bluebird said. “New money encouraged businesses to set up shop in Phebes once more. Rich shits bought homes for cheap and their presence caused landowners to hike their prices so no working person could live there. They either died homeless and begging in the streets or fled to find shelter elsewhere.

  “From an outside perspective, Phebes looks like a smashing success. The city’s grown, it’s beautiful. It’s unrecognizable from the hellhole it was, but that aid was never offered to the people living there.”

  “Planet becomes livable again and the corporations come swooping in and turn it into a tourist trap,” Talisha said, eyes lowered. “Everyone living here loses.”

  “Many wind up incarcerated. Many like poor Jefferson here. Have you ever seen an IGF prison?” Bluebird leaned back. “The problem is systemic, little bounty hunter.”

  “Didn’t realize you were so political.”

  She closed her eyes. “I’m not. I just pay attention. Good night, Talisha Artul.”

  ABOARD THE MAYFLOWER, Madame Inspector paced behind a row of programmers plugging nervously away at their monitors and keyboards. She would occasionally stop and stare at one of the little code-monkeys. They’d squirm and start sweating as the stench of her cigarette smoke filled the air behind them. She did this not to prevent any wrongdoing or errors, but to remind them of a universal truth. Madame Inspector was always watching.

  Her eyes fell over a communiqué that’d been sent to the planet’s surface. She leaned over a poor woman’s shoulder, causing her to flinch and remove her hands reflexively from the keyboard. Madame Inspector glared sideways at her.

  “Pull up that message,” she said in a threatening whisper. “I want to see who sent it.”

  The woman squeaked and hastily opened the message to display its full contents on the monitor. It was directed at Blake Snidely, but that’s not what troubled the inspector. It was the name attached to the sender.

  “You sent this?” the poor confused woman said, voice quivering.

  Madame Inspector stiffened. “So it seems I have. I want you to monitor any communications sent back and forth from the planet’s surface, especially if the messages have my name attached. “Is that understood?”

  “Yes, Madame Inspector. Of course.”

  “And what was your name?”

  “Kayleigh.”

  “Kayleigh, if you whisper of this to any other soul I will have you thrown out an airlock.”

  “Yes, Madame Inspector.”

  Madame Inspector pulled the long cigarette holder from her mouth and exhaled. Her eyes narrowed as she briskly exited the room. Someone was attempting to undermine her authority. That was clear. Mr. Snidely had allies aboard the Plymouth with no respect for protocol or orders. Her goal now was to find them and have them terminated.

  MORNING ARRIVED WITHOUT incident. They’d all slept in shifts to avoid any more run-ins with the critters. There’d been some disbelief and shock when Rogers insisted he also have a time of rest. He remained miffed even into the next morning that it’d been assumed he would take watch all by himself. It was necessary for him to power down for a few hours to regain his energy and replenish ammunition.

  True to Nergal’s word, Bluebird fully recovered. Talisha watched as the Karstotzkiyan double-checked the energy cells on her suit and cannon. She carried additional cells in containers strapped around her waist and in separate compartments on the weapon itself. Replacing a cell seemed to be a lengthy process. The plasma cannon was likely designed to be a stationary weapon manned by multiple people with a quarter of Bluebird’s strength.

  “Have you ever considered taking a smaller weapon along with you, for when you run out of energy?” Talisha asked. “Just seems like all that firepower is useless if you run out in combat with no backup option.”

  “Oh, you haven’t noticed? I always have backup weapons.” Bluebird gave her a wicked grin. She dropped her cannon to flex both arms. “These guns!”

  Talisha’s mouth fell open. She pressed her face directly into her palm. “Oh my god.”

  “And we’re off to the races.” Nergal sighed. No one heard him over the sounds of Bluebird’s raucous laughter.

  After rations were eaten and everyone’s guns were considered fully stocked, they loaded into the scorpion. Snidely attempted to climb into the driver’s seat. He was stopped by Bluebird’s mighty hand coming to rest upon his shoulder.

  “You got to drive yesterday, let someone else have a turn,” she insisted.

  He stared at her incredulously. “What are you, my mother?”

  Bluebird’s brow furrowed. “Share. Why don’t we let Rogers go?”

  The android twisted his hat around his head and looked up. His voice came out in a distinctive growl. “Cyrus reporting for duty. ’Fraid I’m gonna have to turn you down on that one. I’m a bit lazy and if it ain’t a fight, I’ll just be popping my keester up in the back seat if ya don’t mind.”

  “Cyrus. Right.” Bluebird placed her hands on her hips and sighed. “Dr. Isaac, you should go. I bet you are fantastic driver.”

  Nergal stared at her for a good second and then laughed. When he realized no one was laughing with him, he froze. “Oh god,
you’re serious. No, no. I shall not be driving today, nor any other day. See, I took an oath to do no harm and that would surely violate it.”

  “You’re responsible for the deaths of nearly a million people!” Talisha shrieked.

  Bluebird smiled. “Talisha then, you drive!”

  Talisha’s shoulders slumped. “Yeah. Sure. Why not?”

  She climbed into the front seat. A part of her was mildly interested in piloting a scorpion. That old itch for messing around with machinery was tingling at the back of her head again. She really wanted to dig around under the hood and see what made this baby go. Scorpions were famous for their speed, making them useful for hit-and-run tactics.

  “You okay, partner?” Cyrus asked.

  “Yeah.” Talisha let her fingers run over the steering wheel. “Why’s that?”

  “Saw a starving dog once two seconds before he tore into a steak someone threw his way,” Cyrus said with a shrug. “You had that same expression.”

  “Never driven one of these before,” Talisha admitted. “Little excited. Snidely, how fast can these things go?”

  “Try not to get us killed. I’d greatly appreciate it,” came the clipped response.

  Bluebird patted Talisha on the head as she climbed in. Jefferson was perched on Bluebird’s shoulders. He clung to her head like a wide-eyed, gangly lemur.

  “Go as fast as you like, little bounty hunter,” Bluebird said. “We have places to be after all.”

  Talisha removed her helmet so she could feel the wind rushing through her hair. She stomped her foot against the gas pedal and left a trail of dust in the desert behind them. Her face was manic as she pushed the scorpion for all it was worth.

  Snidely gripped onto the sides of the vehicle for dear life. His cheeks puffed as the scorpion flew into the air coasting over one of the dunes. It thudded and jolted violently upon landing on its wheels.

  Nergal clutched the bottom of his seat, eyes full of mortal terror. “Talisha! Darling! You are making me sick! ME! Do you realize how redundant that is? Slow down!”

  Only Bluebird and Cyrus seemed to have any sort of relaxed expression during the ride. Cyrus lacked the ability to express any kind of emotion whatsoever, though his posture appeared calm enough. Bluebird’s scarred face showed nothing but glee and pride.

  Jefferson remained stoic through most of the ride. It wasn’t until the third time the scorpion went flying through the air as it hit the peak of a dune that he actually broke into a weak smile. That smile grew wider and bolder, and he raised his arms high into the air and let out an exuberant holler. Bluebird held his tiny legs extra tightly, so he didn’t fall from her shoulders.

  Cyrus turned his gaze to the east. There were a series of small black shapes moving quickly over the horizon. “Talisha, hold up a minute.”

  Something about his tone of voice broke her from her reverie. She slowed the scorpion to a halt. Snidely was grateful she hadn’t slammed on the brakes. His neck couldn’t take any more thrashing about in the passenger seat.

  “What is it?” Talisha turned to face Cyrus.

  Cyrus zoomed in with his scanners. “Schooners looks like. An entire fleet of ’em.”

  Snidely turned quickly in his seat. “Cyrus, quit scanning them immediately. The Red Fleet is here.”

  Cyrus turned to stare at him. “How do you know that?”

  “I received a communiqué this morning from Plymouth. Their ships were spotted heading toward the planet’s surface. I’d hoped they would be stopping to refuel and move on. If they’ve brought out the schooners, I fear they’re searching for something.”

  “Ching Shih,” Talisha whispered. “You gotta be kidding me.”

  “Think they’re after the temple?” Bluebird mused.

  Snidely returned to his seat, facing forward. “Obviously. There’s nothing else on this god-forsaken rock. We have even less time now than I thought.”

  “We still need to know how that bandit warband managed to get a hold of wyverns,” Talisha insisted.

  “And do you want the most fearsome pirate in the galaxy to lay her hands on ancient Valran technology?” Snidely retorted. “Your little pet issues can wait, Miss Artul.”

  “No more comfortable with pirates getting that technology than I am with you, but I’m not one for backing out of a job.” Talisha turned. “Give me a heading?”

  Snidely handed her his datapad. “We managed to track the key to Melanson’s Raiders several miles from here. They tend to roam around these coordinates. They prefer ducking into the woods and emerging to attack travelers between settlements. Likely they grabbed the key during one of their raids.”

  “Well, with any luck they won’t know what it is they’ve got,” Talisha said. She put the Scorpion back into gear and headed in that direction.

  Cyrus leaned back in his seat. “The traveling bandits and nomads of this planet aren’t just a buncha ignorant yokels, y’know. Why’re you always acting like everyone’s beneath you?”

  “Well, this ought to be good,” Nergal said under his breath.

  Talisha just about stopped the vehicle. “Why does everyone think that? I don’t think I’m better than anyone.”

  Cyrus shrugged his shoulders. “Oh, I don’t particularly care what some IGF lackey thinks of me no-how, but damn, Rogers was fit to be tied. Ever notice he only tends to bring me out whenever something has him really pissed off?”

  She relaxed her grip on the steering wheel. “Well next time you boys have a chat, let him know that I’m sorry. I’ve a lot of respect for him. I get what he’s going through.”

  Cyrus let out a mean chuckle. “Really? Do you really know any of what we’ve been through? Ever work your ass off for people who don’t give a shit? Work hard for acceptance, only to get treated like property.”

  “Actually, I do,” Talisha said, raising an eyebrow at him. Her shoulders softened. “Lots of places in this galaxy don’t treat folks like me right. Only reason my services are even called for is ’cause this ancient piece of tech I’m wearing and my mother’s reputation. Even that doesn’t come close to giving me equal power or privilege. Always walking a tightrope these days.”

  “It’s not the same thing,” he grumbled. “Not the same thing at all.”

  “I’m not going to play a game of who’s got it worse, Cyrus. This isn’t the oppression Olympics. I know our experiences aren’t comparable.” She sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose between her fingers. “I am sorry, though. I mean it.”

  The android fell quiet for a long while. “I’ll let him know you said that.”

  Nergal made a retching noise. “And here I was hoping for some delectable bickering.”

  “We’ve too much in common to be at each other’s throats,” Bluebird chided, punching him in the shoulder. “Even you, green man.”

  “I’m going to throw up my breakfast and dedicate it to you,” Nergal spat. He rubbed his shoulder where she’d punched him. “How’s that for common ground?”

  “Your attempts at being unpleasant change nothing,” Bluebird said, still smiling.

  Minimal conversation passed between them for the next six hours. It grew too damn hot to talk. Even Talisha was bothered despite her armor’s internal cooling systems. Without them she’d be roasting. The worst was the angry red brightness of the sun in the bleak apocalyptic skies. She was forced to lower her helmet before the garish rays blinded her completely.

  They drove beneath the crisscrossing bridges of a broken and crumbling freeway. It stood adjacent to the grayed-out remnants of a city decimated by a generation of warfare. What buildings remained were husks of mortar and crooked steel beams. Skeletal bodies watched from the bridge as the scorpion zipped beneath them, driving farther toward the great expanse of trees on the horizon.

  Jefferson latched his fingers around tufts of Bluebird’s matted hair. He squinted as the trees of the woods came into view. His arms begin to shake. His chapped lips slowly parted into a smile, and he kicked at her shoul
ders like a five-year-old.

  “We’re approaching the Mother,” he whispered. “I feel her.”

  “In there?” Cyrus asked. “Place is a damned death trap. Meat-hungry plants and the meanest trees I’ve ever seen.”

  Bluebird held Jefferson’s legs steady. “How did you survive?”

  “He’s part of Melanson’s warband,” Talisha said. “Isn’t that right, kid?”

  Jefferson nodded. He retrieved a half-eaten bar of rations he’d stuffed down the front of his ratted pants and took a large bite out of it. Every crunch was accompanied by a dead-eyed stare.

  Snidely grimaced at the kid’s expression, then turned to Talisha.

  “I demand you tell me what’s running through your head,” he said in a quiet voice.

  “You don’t think it’s strange we ran into a portion of the very same warband who’s holding the key we’re after?” Talisha said, brow furrowed in a pensive expression.

  “You’re not afraid, are you?” Snidely’s voice cracked a little.

  Her fingers gripped the steering wheel just a little too tightly. “Fear is useless. I’m cautious. Caution is telling me that this job is about to get more interesting than either of us would like it to be.”

  “What are you thinking then?” he asked.

  Talisha fell quiet for a bit. “Not sure yet.”

  “Might wanna think faster, cowgirl.” Cyrus pointed toward the blackness of the woods. “We’ve got company.”

  Three wyverns flew from the tops of the trees followed by several spider-like machines pouring forth from the branches. Underbrush crunched beneath treads as six tanks wheeled behind them. Talisha pulled the scorpion to a halt.

  “How much storage capacity do these things have?” Talisha grabbed Snidely’s arm.

  “Not much.”

  “Big enough to hold Bluebird and our cowboy?”

  “What?!“ Bluebird yelped. “Bounty hunter, I will not be stuffed like luggage.”

  “And if shit goes south, a surprise attack from you and Cyrus might be the only thing to save our asses,” Talisha said through gritted teeth.

  “I can clear out some of the supplies and rations,” Snidely said. “It’s not the worst plan, but I’m open to suggestions.”