Syndicate's Pawns

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Syndicate's Pawns Page 18

by Davila LeBlanc


  Niko staggered back, clearly not expecting this much fight from someone so much smaller than him. He raised his free hand with blinding speed and only now did Phaël realize that he was holding an automatic pulse pistol as well. She relented on her flurry of kicks and was forced to catch his second arm with both her feet fingers.

  Niko’s pulse pistol gave out a charged hum and purr as it fired into the ceiling. He used his superior strength to lift Phaël above his shoulders. He then drove her into his knee with all the force of a piston-­powered sledgehammer. Phaël’s grip on Niko’s arms loosened but did not fail.

  “Keep making me angry, dog! I’ll just take it out on your hide.” Niko lifted Phaël once more above his head and drove her down into his knee a second time.

  Her teeth rattled in her mouth. Her grip loosened on his bladed arm and Niko capitalized on the opening as he swung Phaël by the heels into and through the kitchenette table. He was about to raise her for a second blow, and this time it was Phaël’s turn to react quickly as she drove a dagger into his right shoulder all the way to the hilt.

  “Bitch!” Niko swore as he tossed her away from him into a nearby wall. The impact almost knocked her out. But Phaël had seen and been in her fair share of fights and she shook her head, blinking away stars.

  Behind Niko, Phaël could see Jessie still desperately trying to reload her ridiculously antiquated pistols. Thankfully for both of them, Phaël had managed to enrage Niko, and like any stupid, angry beast, he would attack her before focusing on the perceived weaker prey.

  He pulled the knife from his shoulder, his right arm sparking and twitching as he did. “I’ve had much worse.” His tone was dark and murderous.

  With deadly precision Niko threw the knife at Phaël. Her trained and honed reflexes were on par with Niko’s computerized ones as she deftly caught her knife by the hilt in midair and tossed it back. The knife went through Niko’s left foot, pinning him to the floor.

  “ENOUGH OF THIS!” Niko roared as he pulled himself free and rushed toward Phaël. She tried to get out of his way but was unable to avoid him as he tackled her to the ground.

  “I’ve killed entire cities of Kohbran, you humping dog. You, I’m going to end, and her . . .” Niko pointed to Jessie while poising his vibroblade for a killing blow. “I don’t know why but my boss wants her intact.” Phaël gave Niko a defiant stare, refusing to look away from her impending death.

  There was a heated hiss ­coupled by a purple flash. Phaël blinked as ash suddenly fluttered onto her skinsuit’s facial membrane. There was a hole the size of a fist singed in Niko’s chest. Niko looked down at his wound, then turned around to see Jessie taking aim at him with her reloaded plasma cutter.

  He raised his right arm to fire back at Jessie but she shot first, severing Niko’s gun arm at the elbow. Jessie’s third removed his left arm. Niko, who still seemed to be unaware that he was dead, looked to both his arm stubs, a look of stupid confusion no doubt playing itself out on his face beneath his crimson helmet. Phaël could hear Jessie screaming in rage as she unloaded the rest of her plasma rounds into Niko.

  Despite his body now being riddled with fist-­sized holes, Niko did not topple over like a normal Humanis would have when he died. His body seemed to seize up and freeze like a statue. Soon there was only the sound of empty clicks and Jessie’s angered scream as she kept on pulling the triggers on her pistols at Niko.

  Phaël let herself relax for a moment as she got back to her feet. Her body was bruised, beaten and in pain. The stiches along her back were all now torn and she did not relish the thought of being sewn up again by Doctor Varsin. She limped over to Jessie, who was still pulling the triggers on her pistols, and softly pushed them away.

  Jessie only now seemed to realize that Phaël was all right and still alive. And only now did Phaël realize that this was the first life that Jessie had taken. It was written plainly on her face. “I—­I—­”

  “You did the Huntress proud, Jessie Madison.” Phaël cradled Jessie in her arms as she broke into fits of sobs. When she was done Phaël walked over to one of Niko’s severed arms and cut off two of his fingers. She handed one of them to Jessie, who gave both the finger and Phaël a confused look.

  “Those who share in the hunt, get to share in the trophy.”

  CHAPTER 34

  MORWYN

  It is never ideal to face a cornered foe. The desperate enemy is the one who will do anything, take any stain on their soul to escape that condition. Remember that there is nothing more dangerous than someone with nothing to lose.

  —­Excerpt from Garthem’s Riddles of Conquest

  20th of SSM–11 1445 A2E

  Morwyn’s entire body was a symphony of pain, bruises and no doubt cracked bones. He leaned heavily on the wall of the elevator leading to the main bridge, struggling to stay awake as now every part of him wanted nothing more than to collapse and sleep for days. He looked over to Chance, who was cradling her injured shoulder, and he could read a similar desire in her as well.

  “Are you all right, Chance?” Morwyn asked. Infinite help him, even his pulse pistol felt like it was too heavy for his hands.

  She stared back blankly at him. “You know why I couldn’t qualify for Pax Infantry.”

  Morwyn opened his mouth to speak, but Lucky placed his hand on his shoulder to silence him before he could say anything more.

  “Chance don’t need consolation. She needs to speak her mind and you need to be quiet.”

  “I won’t kill anyone, but I could have, very easily, if that soulless thing posing as a Humanis had ordered me to do so.” Chance looked at the pulse pistol, now loaded with some anesthetic rounds that Lucky had given them. “I won’t feel better until I’ve given them a taste of payback.”

  Morwyn gave Chance an approving look. “It would normally be my job to lecture you on the Covenant’s Truths and the virtues of restraint.” He winced as he felt the broken bone of his nose. “Today will be an exception.”

  Chance smiled. “Thank you, Captain. I won’t make a habit of this.”

  Even though it hurt him when he did, Morwyn laughed. “Fair enough, I’ll try not to make a habit of being boarded by criminal mercenaries.”

  His comment seemed to please Lucky, who offered Morwyn an encouraging pat. “Those who live long enough are the ones who learn.”

  “So what is the plan?” Chance asked, her voice barely masking the pain she was no doubt feeling.

  “We follow protocol, inform them that they have no escape, and give them an opportunity to surrender peacefully.”

  “You think they’d do the same for you, Captain?” Lucky cocked one of his eyebrows at Morwyn.

  He shook his head no. “Very doubtful. But then again, I’ve never let what other ­people would or wouldn’t do dictate my behavior.”

  Lucky took a long haul from his vapostick and slapped Morwyn playfully on the chest. “You, my boy.” He exhaled vapor from his nostrils. “I can see why you drive Eliana Jafahan so crazy.”

  The time for pleasantries was over as the doors to the elevator parted and the trio stepped out. The entrance to the bridge was open and Morwyn could see Domiant and his assistant Mikali with their backs turned to them. Chord stood over the unconscious form of Lizbeth Harlowe. Infinite be praised, they hadn’t harmed her. And not just because she was the only one capable of piloting the Jinxed Thirteenth. Morwyn had grown to enjoy his chats with Lizbeth Harlowe and appreciate her company.

  “Domiant Kuaro Nem’Uldur!” Morwyn shouted as he, Lucky and Chance brought their weapons to bear on them. It was slightly satisfying to see the look of surprise on Domiant’s face as he and Mikali turned to face them. “In the name of the Covenant’s Truths, you are under arrest!”

  Domiant’s eyes darted between Mikali and Morwyn. There was no cocky smile on his face now. “Consider me impressed, Captain.”

 
; “Your sister Sopherim and Zanza have been captured. How long do you think you can truly hold out here?”

  “Drop that weapon!” Chance barked as she pointed her blaster pistol at Mikali, who had been slowly bringing up her carbine. She looked to Domiant, who gave her a nod. She dropped it to the ground with a heavy thud.

  Where Domiant seemed to no longer have much fight in him, or at the very least was silently considering his options, Mikali was openly defiant and angry. “I call your bluff, Captain. You aren’t gonna kill us. You aren’t even gonna harm us. What you’re gonna do is drop YOUR weapons and surrender right now.”

  “The Infinite will come to an end before you see us do that.” Morwyn maintained his composure, keeping his weapon pointed at Domiant. He had never been a sharpshooter like Chance or Lucky but at this distance he was confident that he would not miss either one of them.

  He also knew that Mikali was no doubt stalling for time. Morwyn was feeling more and more tired, and how much of that was the effect of injury and how much of it was due to the Somapoline, he wasn’t certain. But Morwyn had no desire to suddenly pass out and give their hard-­won advantage back to Domiant.

  Mikali sighed impatiently before speaking. “I’m wondering, Captain, how do you expect to make it out of here without a humping pilot?” On cue, Chord raised its foot and placed it on top of Harlowe’s head.

  “Now you all drop your weapons right now before I have my puppet here crush your pilot’s skull like a ripe melon. And we can all be stranded here together.” As if to punctuate the point, Chord’s foot pressed down and Lizbeth Harlowe’s eyes popped open as she let out a scream.

  Throughout all this, much to Morwyn’s surprise, Domiant neither smiled nor said anything. It was as if he were weighing his options. It was precious small consolation for Morwyn that his cunning foe was hesitating. This was an outcome he had not been able to anticipate.

  “Your call, Captain!” Mikali said in a very dry tone. “Your humping call!”

  CHAPTER 35

  DOMIANT

  It is important to be both graceful in defeat and cordial in victory. It is the most challenging of opponents who will drive us to excel.

  —­Gengis Suun,

  Galasian warlord and author

  of the Games of Strength

  20th of SSM–11 1445 A2E

  Domiant had always loved the game of chess. It was rumored to be one of the only games to have survived the Lost War and he had always prided himself in being a decent enough player. He had come to see anyone under his command as a piece on his board. He had anticipated as many moves and outcomes as possible. There was simply no way that Morwyn could have freed himself on his own. Someone within his crew had betrayed him. And now he was facing potential defeat and capture.

  Domiant was no stranger to being bested by better opponents, although he did not think that this applied to Captain Morwyn Soltaine. And as he stood on the bridge of the Jinxed Thirteenth, now facing off against three agents of the Covenant, he resisted the urge to feel crestfallen. His mind was already quickly thinking of a way to turn this entire situation to his advantage.

  His eyes darted to the Althena and only now could he make out two shapes stepping out of it. The Living Green spare him, he no longer even had an escape route. Mikali, making her desperation obvious, went directly the route of the hostage taking. Threatening the life of the pilot. And while this would normally have been Domiant’s most likely move, it was not the right one for the current situation.

  There would be no profit in murdering a servant of the Covenant today. Even if they did somehow manage to escape, which was not altogether impossible, what then? Throughout both his exile and subsequent criminal enterprises Domiant had followed his mother’s advice, which was to remain off the Covenant’s radar. Until this day, he and Sopherim had been remarkably good in that regard. Moreover, there was a substantial difference between being exiled from his home world and suddenly finding himself on the most wanted list. As an exile he would still be able to make port on most worlds. As a wanted Covenant fugitive, however? Domiant would find his travel and safeport options severely restricted and his chances of ever returning home—­even illicitly—­would vanish. That last part appealed to him even less than the life of a detainee. Perhaps if Sopherim, the Queen of his chess game, were here instead of Mikali, a worthless pawn, there would have been a chance to turn this situation around in his favor. But that was not the case. And wishing the situation were different would not change the scene that was presently playing itself out.

  Besides, Domiant had read Captain Morwyn quite well. He was a man of principles with an officer’s strict moral code. His next move would be to transport his prisoners back to Central Point, where two choices would be given to Domiant: either take a sentence of ser­vice in the Covenant, along with immunity for his crimes, or face a trial on his home world of Uldur. Of the two prospects the latter appealed to him the least.

  He had already been exiled for the rest of his life from green and verdant Uldur. His mother had used him like a piece in her game; she would do nothing to rescue him and if he was returned to his home, his sentence would be another slow, torturous and painful death. He had not been lying to Morwyn when he told him he had died once, and he was in no hurry to relive the experience.

  But they were in End Space right now, far from civilization and the road to Central Point was a long one. There were plenty of opportunities to be had between now and then. And none of them would be made available to him if he allowed Mikali to murder the ship’s pilot.

  So far they had killed no one, and if it remained that way, Domiant would have room to maneuver if and when he had to face his punishment. As Mikali shouted her threats to Captain Morwyn, Domiant silently stepped behind her. He could make out Mikali’s suit’s power core, nestled in the small of her back. He quickly gripped the wires and yanked them out before Mikali could say or do anything more.

  With her hacking rig now deactivated, the Machina went limp, like a puppet with no strings. Mikali furiously reeled on Domiant. “What in the fu—­” She was cut off as a dart pierced the back of her neck. Domiant made no effort to stop her fall and let her drop to the ground.

  Domiant looked to Morwyn and his two companions and raised his hands above his head. “Please accept my surrender, Captain Morwyn.”

  Before either one of them could say anything, the young Kelthan woman at Morwyn’s side shot at Domiant. He felt a pinch in his stomach and looked down to see a dart similar to the one in Mikali protruding from it. The effects of the anesthetic were almost instantaneous. As Domiant felt dizzy, he unceremoniously dropped down onto his backside.

  “Surrender accepted.” The young woman’s words were already an echo. As his world fell into darkness, Domiant could not help but let out a brief chuckle. Despite everything, it was always amusing when the scales were suddenly turned.

  CHAPTER 36

  MORWYN

  A word given is a word kept.

  —­Thegran proverb

  27th of SSM–11 1445 A2E

  “There is no force in the Infinite that will convince me that yours is a good idea.” Morwyn was referring to Jessie Madison’s agreement with the pilot of the Althena, Kendric Loc. He had wanted to put him in the brig along with the rest of the crew, but now Jessie Madison, Marla Varsin and Private Phaël of all ­people, were hard at work petitioning him to let Kendric assist with the repairs. Something the grateful and former pilot of the Althena seemed incredibly amenable to.

  Standing on the main bridge with Lizbeth Harlowe and Chord putting the finishing touches on rewiring the navigational computer behind them, Morwyn resisted the urge to sit down on his captain’s seat. His body was still incredibly sore and stiff, this despite having been injected with regenerative stempaste. Standing across from him her hands firmly and defiantly placed on her hips, Jessie Madison glared back at him.

/>   “I gave Kendric Loc my word. Swore that he would not be mistreated by us.” Her Pax Common had improved and part of Morwyn made it a point to remember to congratulate Chord and Marla Varsin on their fine job as tutors.

  “I thought keeping your word meant something to you, Captain.” Phaël added her own voice to Jessie’s argument.

  “Jessie Madison might not be enlisted and therefore not restricted to protocol, Private Phaël, but you are.” Morwyn needed to end this little power play before it got out of control.

  “Don’t you dare!” Jessie cut Morwyn off. “If it were not for us, YOU would have been the one dealing with that fucking lunatic Niko. You were barely able to deal with one fighter. What do you figure your odds would have been against him?”

  “Nonexistent, is the answer the captain both knows and does not feel like giving.” Phaël appeared to be taking a rare delight in this infuriating conversation. It did not help the matter that both she and Jessie were correct in their assessment.

  “You have no way of knowing what part that man played in the attempted takeover of my ship.” Morwyn took a deep calming breath. “If they hadn’t wanted to take us alive they could have just as easily poisoned and killed each and every one of us on the ship. You and your unborn child included.”

  Jessie tossed her hands in exasperation. “So that is what you ­people do here? Send a victim to jail because he was forced under threat of death to do something he wouldn’t have done otherwise?”

  Morwyn remained silent and kept his hands behind his back, hiding his clenched fists, trying his best to mask his frustration. Of course Jessie’s outrage was not uncalled-­for. For all Morwyn knew, the man could very well be innocent, and until they ran his name through the computers on Central Point, there would be no way of knowing.

 

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