Mercs!

by Dorian Dawes

  Rogers shrugged his shoulders. “We’ll figure it out. Hopefully. Maybe we can look out for each other. Keep the other honest.”

  “Accountability,” she said. “Maybe that’s what I’ve been missing. Mom hammered into me the lone-wolf mentality so hard that I never thought about what I might be missing out on.”

  “And what’s that?”

  “A friend.”

  She stretched out her gauntleted hand. He clasped it heartily. Then his fingers braced hers for a moment. He swayed, staring at her hand.

  “What’s the matter?” she said.

  He shook his head. “Sorry. Just…when you’ve got your armor on like that, your fingers are metal. Just like mine.”

  Talisha tightened the handshake. “No matter what happens today, I’ll be watching out for you. Bluebird too.”

  “I’ll be the wind at your back, cowgirl,” he said. “You can count on that.”

  Chapter Seven

  THE IGF HAD never mobilized so quickly. The fleet was ordered to depart under the command of Ajar Mattu. Their orders had come directly from the Council of Thirteen, the highest authority in the galaxy. He flexed his fingers into a tight black fist, taking only the briefest of comforts in the crinkling sounds of his leather gloves.

  Commander Mattu had served sixteen years in the IGF Navy before being promoted as a high officer and lieutenant, eventually assuming the lofty command rank. There were few actions the IGF took without his direct knowledge or say-so. His practicality and intelligence had made him an ideal fit for the job.

  The IGF higher-ups were so mired in bureaucracy and senseless political squabbling it’d made an inept laughing stock of the largest military fighting force in the galaxy. It’d take them months to deploy to a routine distress call, often too late to be of help to anyone. Mattu had spent most of his command post railing against unnecessary restrictions and red tape in an effort to speed the process and deliver critical aid. Many of his peers blamed him for the consistent reliance upon outside help from bounty hunters and mercenaries, after all, it was he who’d first called upon the services of the first Talisha Artul. He’d argued that if the IGF were free to offer assistance to those in need of it, then all bounty hunters would be driven out of their profession, as there would be no need of the government to rely upon them for aid.

  Mattu was a tall dark-skinned man with graying hair kept wrapped beneath a black turban. He had a closely trimmed beard and goatee along the sides of his narrow, angular jaw. Most distinctive about his appearance was his left eye. It’d been shot out two decades ago in a firefight, and he was later fitted with a mechanical replacement. While his wealth and status gave him later access to more human-looking upgrades, he’d come to prefer it as a symbol of his fighting experience. The intimidating red glare it cast over a darkened room when he entered suited his flair for the dramatic.

  He was handed a request to attend a private holo-screened meeting in his office to debrief him on the situation developing on Archimedes IV. He thanked the officer who delivered the message and retreated from the balcony, saluting his troops before he left. The rapid deployment of such a vast fleet had left them equally alarmed. It was important to at least instill some form of confidence. He would not let them see their commander so rattled.

  Pale lights flickered off his shiny leather boots as he stormed through the halls of the drop-ship en route to his office. Nervous men and women under his command darted to and fro alongside him, rushing to their stations, carrying datapads and map coordinates. There was a general nervous atmosphere. The unprecedented had occurred.

  Mattu’s office doors swooshed open allowing him entry. He ducked into the door and sat at his desk. He took a moment to adopt a knowing, casual posture before answering the call from his superiors. With a hand tucked under his chin, he looked thoughtful, dangerous.

  “Ajar Mattu, Commander of the 497th reporting.”

  A series of faces on different screens flickered into view, hovering just a few inches over his desk. Every time they appeared the same joke ran through his head. They really ought to warn people before popping into view like that. The sea of whiteness could blind somebody.

  “A situation is developing on Archimedes IV that warrants the immediate attention of the Intergalactic Peacekeeping Force,” the talking heads droned.

  “A planet that was deemed hostile and out of our jurisdiction am I correct?” Mattu said with a raised eyebrow. “While I am all too eager to provide aid to the suffering souls that still live there, I’ve reasonable doubts that’s why we’re going.”

  “Your petty insolence wastes our time.”

  He shrugged. “No disrespect, just a question.”

  “What you’re about to be told is to be kept top secret. If any evidence is found that you have leaked this intel to an outsider, you will be tried for treason and executed. Is that understood?”

  Mattu blinked. He sat forward. “This is about the Valran, isn’t it?”

  “It’s always about the Valran. For many years we have been aware of and guarded the sites of their many temples scattered across the galaxy. The one on Archimedes IV is most important to us, our operations upon the planet have been…delicate.”

  “You mean it’s the only one you’re interested in and every mission has resulted in a colossal failure.”

  “Shut up. Our scientists have confirmed that our detailed scans indicate dormant technology capable of inter-dimensional travel. The rumors that the Valran were a warp-capable species are true. As such it’s been within the IGF’s best interests and yours for us to gain access to this technology before one of the corporate goons has a chance to turn it into a marketable product.”

  Mattu scoffed. “My interests? We have the fastest ships in the galaxy. Using alien magic isn’t going to get us deployed any faster when it’s not within the Council’s interests.”

  “Ease your tongue, Commander. Your reputation alone is all that keeps you in that seat. You can still be supplanted.”

  “I’m just jerking you around fellas.” Mattu gave a good-natured smile. If he thought kissing up to them would have worked, he’d have laid it on a tad thicker, but it suited their egos more to believe he was a wild card that they could keep tamed. “So what’s the situation developing on the planet surface? What’s changed?”

  “Twelve hours ago, the IGF received an anonymous report that a large fleet had begun to head toward the planet. Satellite imagery from the space around the planet confirmed those reports. We don’t recognize them from any of the known corporations or licensed fighting forces within the galaxy.”

  “Extragalactic?”

  “Unlikely, the speed isn’t any faster than our own current vessels, nor are they capable of warp travel. We must assume for now that the force has been amassing in secret, beneath our very noses.”

  “Shadow corporation,” Mattu said with a gravelly voice. “So I was right.”

  “Indeed.”

  “In that case I want a larger army to be deployed to the planet’s surface. We have no idea what we’re facing, and I’d like to avoid unnecessary casualties.”

  “Out of the question.”

  “But you said—”

  “Protecting the Valran Temple is a priority, and an emergency one, which is why you’ve been granted the clearance to assemble an immediate deployment of forces. A larger force will raise questions as to why the Council approved the decision to deploy armaments on a planet deemed hostile and no longer under our protection.”

  Mattu fumed. “You’re sending our men in with no intel. No aid or backup. This is a clusterfuck in the making!”

  “You’ll only be setting up a defensive perimeter around the temple. You will handpick a squad of your finest men to make an excursion inside and recover the warp-technology.”

  “A squad?” He shook his head in disbelief. “We don’t even know what’s in the temple. You’re asking me to split my forces from a perimeter when we’ve still no clue the size of the ene
my force we’re to defend against. This is outrageous.”

  “It is the will of the Council.”

  Mattu stood. He pounded his fist against the desk, causing the coffee cup to rattle and spill several drops across the slick metallic surface. “Get your wrinkly white heads out of your wrinkly white butts and listen to me! I will not be held responsible for this shit-show.”

  “Are you saying you wish to resign your post?”

  There it was. They would never formally discharge him from his position, but they’d certainly obstruct his proposals and make his life hell, see how far they could press until he finally quit and they could have their way with the IGF military. Every other time he was content to give it right back to them, fighting tooth and nail over every table scrap of progress. His vision for the IGF was a force that helped people, while the Council saw only fit to help themselves. Like hell he’d resign.

  Still, he had to reconsider the current situation. They were testing him again, certainly, but they had a vested interest in this planet. For the first time in all the years of battling with the talking heads, they had something to lose. He’d be a fool not to take this opportunity and press them for an advantage.

  “I refuse to take part in condemning these men to their deaths,” he said, straightening his shoulders. He clasped one hand behind his belt buckle and stood, legs parted. Even at his age, he was still an imposing figure. “You will give me no choice but to turn in my resignation and file a complaint against the courts for gross negligence.”

  “Negligence? No one will believe you.” The statement betrayed the concerned looks the talking heads were giving each other.

  “The Council of Thirteen specifically sends a fleet of the IGF military to disembark on a planet that they themselves declared hostile? Defend against a fighting force of unknown power with inadequate resources, and then issues the order to split said forces on an excursion for military gain? I think I have a case here.”

  “Very well, we will take your complaint and resignation under advisement. Though, as a gesture of goodwill, perhaps you’d like to know the status of an individual who might be of some interest to you is on the planet.”

  That startled him. Their attitude had dramatically pivoted from off guard and frantically scrambling for ground again into that of confident card-sharks. He’d heard rumors that the talking heads were all psychically linked upon getting sworn into office. He hadn’t ever wanted to believe such stories, but experiences like this gave them an unnerving credence.

  Mattu attempted to look casual. “Goodwill? From you? Thought you never touched the stuff.”

  They smiled. “The bounty hunter Talisha Artul has been sighted on the planet’s surface. Weren’t you acquainted with her mother?”

  Mattu paled. He stared at the screen as a satellite image showing that all-too-familiar armor. The image had her frozen midair blasting a set of wyverns with her arm cannon.

  “What’s her business on Archimedes IV?” he asked, returning to his seat, eyes fixed on the screen. He clenched his hands into fists to keep them from shaking.

  “She has a hunting license,” the talking heads said purred. “We don’t keep track of all her activities. She’s a free citizen with all her permits in order. There’ve been attempts to track down her current employer to ensure there’ll be no unnecessary losses to key assets.”

  Mattu placed one hand behind his back and tried not to look nervous. “What’ve you found?”

  “Absolutely nothing. It’s as if her employer doesn’t exist. We can only assume she’s working for the enemy. She probably doesn’t even know it. If she attempts to enter that temple, whoever assumes command in your place will have no choice but to fire on her.”

  “That won’t be necessary,” Mattu barked. “I worked with her mother, she was always completely reasonable. I’m sure her daughter will listen.”

  “It’s likely, but whoever replaces you might not share your optimism. They won’t risk their men getting shot by some bounty hunter over negotiations.”

  Mattu sighed. “I get your point. I’ll command the fleet.”

  “Are you sure? It is after all completely your choice in the matter.”

  “Am I free to go?” His eyes narrowed dangerously. They’d pissed him off, and he couldn’t hide it.

  “Good luck on your mission, Commander. The fate of the Intergalactic Peacekeeping Federation is in your hands. Remember that.”

  Mattu closed the call and withered into his seat. His office darkened without the glowing lights from the holo-screens. He pulled up a fresh screen and swiped through it several times until he returned to the satellite images taken of the bounty hunter. He stopped on one that showed a clear image of her face. His eyes softened. His mouth hung open. He lay back in his seat, fingers clamped over his mouth in stunned silence.

  He’d become aware that Talisha’s daughter had taken on the famous armor and followed in her mother’s footsteps. He’d read the reports of her excursions with the military but had never actually seen the young woman. Mattu had deliberately avoided looking into anything regarding the second generation Talisha Artul. That chapter of his life had closed long ago when the senior bounty hunter made it abundantly clear she never wanted to see him again. His newfound suspicions changed everything.

  He hoped he wasn’t being sent to kill his only daughter.

  BLUEBIRD HAD LEFT the cabin early in the morning, before Talisha or Rogers had awoken. She’d barged across the schooner. The guards only briefly attempted to stop her making entry into Ching Shih’s quarters. They were silenced by her weary voice calling from inside. Bluebird gave the guards a curt nod before barging through the door.

  Ching Shih was sitting at the table, hand pressed against her forehead. She held a tall emerald bottle with a thin neck. It was uncorked. There was a glass sitting on the table, but she’d long since abandoned its use in favor of chugging directly from the bottle.

  “Apologies,” Ching Shih said. “This is no way to greet you, and my guards are rather enthusiastic.”

  “You look terrible,” Bluebird noted, pulling up a chair next to her.

  “You’re one to talk.” Ching Shih smiled and offered her the bottle. “Baijiu? It’s a rarity in the galaxy these days.”

  “Sharing drinks before battle is Karstotzkiyan tradition.” Bluebird raised the bottle in toast before taking a hearty swig. She took a big gulp and licked her lips. “It’s quite dry. Have you slept at all?”

  “No. I’ll be dead soon enough. I can sleep plenty then. Best to use my time wisely.”

  “Nights drunk with worry is wise?”

  “Don’t be an ass.” Ching Shih snatched the bottle from her. “Give me that. What’d you want to see me about?”

  “To accompany the fight against Plymouth.”

  “Your services wherever you choose to offer them are valid, but don’t you think your friends will need your protection?”

  Bluebird sighed. Her shoulders heaved. “Talisha is a good person. She wants to do the right thing but is filled with doubts. Rogers is more bitter and lonely than even he understands. They are powerful warriors, but both so very lost.”

  “So it is not your strength they need, but your guidance.”

  “I have experience. I’ve suffered same as they, but there is distance between my suffering and theirs.”

  “Perspective is a gift. Lets you see things you might have missed.”

  Bluebird smiled. “You sound awfully sentimental for a hardened pirate.”

  “I am a sentimental hardened pirate,” Ching Shih corrected with a smile. She passed the baijiu to Bluebird.

  Bluebird took another hearty swig. She pounded on her chest with her fist before letting out an ungodly belch. Ching Shih winced visibly but said nothing.

  “The taste grows on you,” Bluebird said with a nod. “I will not abandon my new friends for a quest of personal vengeance. Sascha would never approve. Feels like shit though. Like I am giving up a sense of closu
re.”

  “You place duty before satisfaction.” Ching Shih raised her brow high, then took the baijiu back. “I drink to your sense of honor.”

  “I have but one favor to ask.”

  “Name it.”

  Bluebird reached into her pockets and retrieved a silver chain and oval pendant. It’d been heavily scratched and damaged over the years. She opened it, revealing a picture of a woman with dark hair and fierce brown eyes.

  “She looks powerful,” Ching Shih commented.

  “I want you to take it with you, when you assault the satellite.” Bluebird closed the pendant and placed it on the table. She slid it toward Ching Shih, her fingers lingering for a brief moment against the chain. “She should be there when you destroy them.”

  Ching Shih took the pendant. She stared at it with a furrowed brow. Her shoulders drooped. With a sigh, she clenched it in her fingers and tucked it safely beneath her robes. She’d been carrying the burdens and dreams of so many over the years. One more wouldn’t break her.

  “I’ll ensure it gets back to you.”

  “Just kill them.” Bluebird’s eyes flashed. “I want her to hear their screams in the next world.”

  Ching Shih smiled. “Consider it done.”

  She rose slowly, removing her crown from the table and placing it once more upon her brow. All semblance of a weary old woman vanished. Though she had spent the entire night lying awake and drinking, she looked once more a frightening display of dignity and power. Ching Shih walked to the door of her cabin, hands clasped in front of her. She waited calmly for her guards to open the door. Bluebird smirked and followed shortly after.

  An unexpected scene awaited the blue-haired mercenary upon leaving the cabin. A man and a woman were being dragged from their quarters onto the deck of the schooner. Ching Shih’s eyes narrowed as she stepped forward, fingers locking around the hilt of her sword. The other ships flew closer, their decks packed with watchful occupants.

  Rogers and Talisha exited their cabin to see the display. They stopped just short of rushing into the gathering crowd. Talisha lifted her visor to give Bluebird a bewildered expression. Bluebird could only shrug in response.