Hell to Pay: A Mercenary Warfare Adventure

by Zen DiPietro

  Non-monogamy didn’t sit right for some people, and cultural differences could be a real deal killer.

  Fallon pivoted slightly to greet Ditnya, who was approaching like a sleek cargo freighter—smooth and graceful, but commanding a great deal of airspace.

  Fallon bowed. “I hope you’re enjoying your stay on Jamestown.”

  Her demeanor had none of the warmth of before. She was now the picture of stiff military cordiality.

  Ditnya said, “I’ve never been much for all that PAC bowing. Where I’m from, we do handshakes.”

  She stuck out her hand as if daring Fallon to refuse.

  “Of course,” Fallon said, giving the older woman a firm handshake. “The PAC values cultural differences.”

  “Of course,” Ditnya echoed, wearing a saccharine smile. “As for my stay…I suppose this place is nice, for a PAC station.”

  “I had the pleasure of staying on Dauntless not too long ago,” Fallon said.

  Cabot looked from one woman to the other. Uh oh. He sensed two very large personalities about to collide.

  “Oh?” Ditnya’s smile remained. “How lovely. I hope you enjoyed yourself.”

  “The food was excellent, and the accommodations lovely. I did have to kill a couple people on the way out, though. Or maybe they were only incapacitated, but either way, they attacked us first. Sorry about the mess.”

  Ditnya waved a hand. “Happens all the time. I have people to deal with that. It’s good that you picked off some of the weak ones, though. Survival of the fittest and all.”

  “Of course.”

  They smiled tightly at each other.

  Cabot was both fascinated and disturbed by this exchange.

  “Well, the admirals are ready for you. Peregrine has been briefing them, so now it’s time to make your case.” Fallon nodded to Ditnya.

  “The case will make itself. This isn’t about me.”

  “I see,” Fallon said. “If you’ll follow me…”

  On their way out, Fallon dismissed the contingent of officers that had been watching them. They nodded, bowed, and dispersed.

  Cabot was impressed. He’d long been accustomed to seeing her in authority on Dragonfire, but having that kind of presence here was a different thing.

  She led them around to the other side of the station, used her credentials to open a door, then there they were.

  Peregrine sat at a round table with two admirals to her left. They were both older men, one human and one of indeterminate origins. He might be human or something else. Most likely a mixture.

  “Admiral Krazinski.” Fallon bowed to the silver-haired human. “Admiral Erickson.” She bowed to the other, more tanned one. “I present Ditnya Caine, Cabot Layne, Omar Freeborn, and Nagali Freeborn.”

  She stepped aside and sat next to Peregrine.

  “Have a seat,” Admiral Erickson said. “We’re not here to stand on ceremony. We’re here to listen to what you have to say. I realize that only Ms. Caine requested this meeting, but you others have been material witnesses in the events at hand. We wanted you to attend this meeting to give your interpretation of events.”

  Cabot exchanged a look with Nagali and Omar. Interesting. He suspected their collective presence had been orchestrated by Fallon and Peregrine. He just didn’t know what that meant.

  Erickson nodded to Ditnya. “Ms. Caine, please tell us what you want to say.”

  She gave each of them a long look before speaking. “I’m not going to waste time waxing poetic or trying to deliver a rousing speech. I’m just going to lay things out as they are. There’s a planet in your zone that, by all rights, should be one of your protected planets. Atalus has been struggling for a long time, and that’s fine with me. Everyone struggles. The strong survive. That’s natural. But the situation of the Atalans has become something else. People are being bought, sold, and used in ways that people should only choose to be used—or end up being used by their own poor decisions. Atalan refugees aren’t given a chance to sink or swim on their own—they’re preyed upon right under your noses. If there’s one thing I hate, it’s a corruption of the system of survival of the fittest.”

  She grasped a pitcher of water sitting in front of her, then took her time pouring it into a stout glass and taking a sip. “I’m prepared to help you clean up your mess. I’m not going to do it for free. I’m going to expect something out of it. But I think you should have to contribute to my efforts of cleaning up a problem that you failed to prevent.”

  A long pause drew out, and Cabot wasn’t sure if she was going to say more or if she was waiting for the admirals to respond.

  Apparently, they weren’t sure, either. Finally, Admiral Erickson said, “We agree, the Atalan situation is intolerable. We’ve worked hard to help refugees in all the ways we can, but, as you know, some opportunistic people will exploit others in the worst ways possible. I object to the idea that we’ve created the problem. Because Atalus is not an allied planet, we had no right or duty to intervene in their civil war. In a four-sided war, how can we decide for a planet who to support and who to decimate? It wasn’t our right to do so. We hoped the situation would stabilize, settled one way or another by the Atalans themselves, but the situation got too bad, too fast.”

  He took a breath. “However, I agree that something must be done to take down the slave trade. Again, we’ve tried to prevent as much of it as we can, but space is a very big place, and refugees can so easily board the wrong vessel and never be heard from again. The PAC doesn’t claim to be perfect, Ms. Caine. I think it’s safe to say that the people in this room are more aware than most that few situations in life have perfect solutions. There is only what you’re willing to do, and what you aren’t willing to do.

  “So, Ms. Caine,” he said. “What are you willing to do?”

  Ditnya inclined her head. “I have to admit, I didn’t expect such straight and sensible talk. Maybe there’s hope yet for the PAC.”

  When Erickson opened his mouth to speak, she held up her hand. “That’s not an insult or an indictment. It’s a compliment. Take it. You won’t get many from me. What I suggest is for us to work together, pooling our resources. We both have access to information and methods that the other doesn’t. We each have a different zone of influence. I’ve been working for years to get to the root of this slaving organization, but I only have access to the criminal side of it. You have all of your official reports. Your data. Your contacts. Your—” her eyes went to Peregrine and Fallon, “—specialists.”

  Krazinski folded his hands in front of him. “I don’t suppose you’d be willing to give us your information, and agree to work in consultation, while we use our own agents to do the work.”

  Ditnya smiled. “Of course not. I’m not a hands-off kind of person.”

  Krazinski nodded. “I figured.”

  He glanced to his right. “Peregrine and Fallon have already briefed us in detail, to move things along, and I’m inclined to agree that a joint venture would be in the PAC’s interest, if you’re genuine. And I think you may be. My concern is your reputation. You’re well known for your long game. For setting an operation up over a number of years, getting the variables in line, and finally bringing it down on the head of some organization or government. What assurance do we have that your apparently altruistic interest in getting rid of the slave trade isn’t just a long con?”

  “None,” Ditnya answered immediately. “And there won’t be any. No matter what assurances I give, or what proof I offer, it could have been fabricated with a purpose. Just like I have no guarantee that someone isn’t on their way to this room right now to incarcerate me. Or that I won’t have a medical emergency in transit and expire from natural causes. All I have right now to prove my intentions is the fact that I’m completely at your mercy, with no protection. And that’s not a position I put myself in. Ever.”

  She stared the admirals down, and they returned her gaze just as hard.

  Cabot held his breath.

&nb
sp; Erickson nodded slowly. “It’s a fact that you’ve risked your life to come here. It’s only logical to conclude that whatever your goal is, it’s worth that risk to you. That makes me more likely to take a risk on you. So, let’s begin. I want to hear from each of you about your experiences and impressions of this endeavor. Starting with you.”

  Erickson’s eyes locked onto Cabot.

  Cabot glanced at Fallon and Peregrine, and took a breath. He sent up a little prayer to Prelin that he did this right.

  4

  After the hours of tension and talking, Cabot relished some quiet time in his quarters. After he told his story, Nagali and Omar told theirs, in shorter versions, corroborating his version of events.

  Then there had been a great deal of back and forth between Ditnya and the admirals, with Fallon and Peregrine occasionally chiming in.

  Finally, he, Nagali, and Omar had been dismissed.

  Perhaps he should have been disappointed to be removed from the rest of the discussion, but he wasn’t. As far as he was concerned, his part in all this was officially over. He’d done his bit, said his bit, and he was ready to go home.

  His door chime sounded.

  Ugh.

  He didn’t want to answer it, but he was there at the pleasure of the PAC and couldn’t exactly just pretend there was no one home. His security detail made that impossible.

  Sighing, he dragged himself up from the couch and to the door. Then promptly wished he’d followed through on his original instinct.

  “That was something, wasn’t it?” Nagali barged into his room, knocking his shoulder sideways as she went.

  He steeled himself. “Yes. Certainly something.”

  She dropped dramatically to the couch he’d just moments ago been peacefully enjoying. “Oh, don’t be so stoic.”

  “I’m not being stoic. Just tired.”

  “Are you unwell? Eat some bad prawns?” she asked with concern.

  “No. Just tired. I don’t share your enthusiasm for throwing my hands in the air and squealing with excitement while I’m hurtling toward the ground.”

  “Oh. I’ll go then.” She stood.

  “Really?”

  “Sure. If you’re tired, you should rest. I’ll go see what Omar’s up to.” Her eyes sparked with wickedness. “Or maybe I’ll stop by Ditnya’s quarters for some girl talk.”

  “Please don’t.”

  She grinned. “Not promising anything. Goodnight!”

  Out she swept, leaving a hint of perfume in her wake.

  She was impossible.

  He smiled.

  THE NEXT DAY, Cabot felt like he was in a holding pattern. He wasn’t requested to appear before the admirals again, for which he was grateful. He hadn’t yet been cleared to leave, either, and that left him with little to do.

  He still needed to tell them about the link he’d found to Bristle Washpoh, but the time hadn’t arrived. He hoped it soon would.

  He went down to the hive with his escort in tow, at an odd in-between time. No shifts seemed to be starting or ending, and people on a regular daytime schedule weren’t up yet. As a result, the hive was far less busy, but hardly deserted.

  A pair of ensigns smiled at each other as they sat on opposites sides of a table. Whatever they’d eaten was long gone, and now they lingered in the company of one another.

  Apparently dating between officers was permitted.

  He tried to imagine being young and idealistic during these difficult times. He envied them.

  On the other hand, they were young and the most likely to get tossed out as fodder in a war situation. His envy evaporated.

  Fallon and her colleagues were working hard to combat the Barony Coalition and protect the allied planets. He was certain of that, even though he had no knowledge of whatever they were doing toward that goal. Now here she was with one of her teammates—maybe more for all he knew—and trying to work with a notorious criminal mastermind.

  Maybe, if they pulled off working with her, they could partner with her to take on Barony. Avoiding the chaos Barony’s rule would bring was in Ditnya’s best interest.

  But one step at a time. Steady ahead and so forth.

  As he sipped his tea, he quietly admired Jamestown. It was efficient, attractive, and full of a lot of brilliant people.

  He only hoped that would be enough.

  Wren came around a corner, noticed him, and brightened.

  “Hey!” she exclaimed, sitting across from him. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

  “It’s a nice surprise for me, too. How are you?”

  “Good.”

  “Working?” he asked. She wore olive green coveralls and had a tool kit with her, so the question was more a conversational lead-in than anything else.

  “Yep. Certain maintenance tweaks are better done when there aren’t so many people around. My schedule changes just about daily. And I tend to get called out of bed to go look at something or other.”

  “Sounds annoying.”

  “Nah.” She shook her head, making the little pink buns she’d pulled her hair into alternate back and forth. “It’s fun. I volunteered for emergency duty. It’s different, you know?”

  “And you needed a change.” He recalled her saying that the last time they’d talked.

  “Definitely.” She started to say something else when her eye caught on someone approaching them. “This is Justin,” she said to Cabot. “Justin Mayweather. We work together a lot.”

  The man stood alongside the table. He was about Wren’s age, with Zerellian boy-next-door good looks. A glance at the bars on his uniform indicated his rank.

  “Commander Mayweather.” Cabot gave a tiny bow of his shoulders. Etiquette required much less of a bow from a seated position. “Nice to meet a new friend of Wren’s.”

  “Justin,” the commander said. “And I’m glad to meet an old friend of hers. She’s been a breath of fresh air around here.”

  “I’m certain of that,” Cabot agreed.

  “There are a couple of others around somewhere,” Wren said, “but I don’t know if I’ll be able to catch up to them. I’m sure they’re busy with official super-important business.”

  She made an ancient military salute, and they all chuckled.

  “If you do, be sure to introduce me,” Justin said. “I’ll get out of your way. I’m sure you have things to catch up on. It was nice to meet you, Cabot.”

  With a warm smile at them both, he strode off with a casual, long stride.

  “He seems very nice,” Cabot said.

  “He’s great. Good sense of humor, hard worker. Really good with integrated systems. He’s taught me some really interesting things”

  “And he’s something different, too,” Cabot noted.

  Her pale cheeks turned pink. “We’re just friends, and co-workers. I’m not up for anything like that. Not anytime soon.”

  “Really? A celibate Sarkavian? Well, I never,” he teased.

  She laughed. “I’d hardly use that word. I’m just enjoying some time without entanglements. It’s a brand-new place, and I haven’t seen a single person on Jamestown naked. I’d kind of like to preserve that mystery for a while.”

  He chuckled. “That’s what I like about you. You always have a refreshing perspective, and enjoy life in your own way. That’s something I’m working on, myself.”

  She grinned. “I like hearing that. Let me know if you need some ideas for fun. I’ve found a few good ones around here.”

  “Oh, I doubt I’ll be having much fun. Not with my anchor over there.” He shifted his gaze to his escort, who suddenly straightened and looked more alert.

  She nodded. “I see your point. Hopefully that’s a temporary situation.”

  “I’ll be out of here as soon as I’m given clearance to depart.”

  “Tell everyone on Dragonfire I said hi. I keep in touch via the voicecom, but it’s not the same. I miss everyone.”

  “You’re sorely missed, too,” he assured her. �
�But I’m very glad to see with my own eyes how happy you are here. I wish I’d gotten a chance to see Lim—I mean Liam—too. I miss having him look out for my shop for me, but I knew he’d move on to something better suited to his talents before long.”

  She nodded. “He’s gone to do some intensive analysis training elsewhere, and won’t be back for a few weeks. He’ll be sorry to have missed you. But I really am happy here.”

  He reached over and patted her hand. “That’s all that matters.”

  “Thanks, Cabot. I’m glad you don’t feel like I’ve abandoned all you guys.”

  “No one thinks that. I promise.”

  She nodded again, this time with determination. “Okay. Well, I need to get to Docking Bay 6. There was an odd error code and I need to check it out.”

  He felt a sudden moment of worry, wondering if Ditnya could be responsible and if she might be planning a takeover of the station. But no. If she were going to do that, she wouldn’t have put herself here, in the danger zone.

  He was getting paranoid these days.

  “I guess stuff like that is always happening?” he asked.

  “Oh yeah. It’s a huge station with a massive amount of electronics. Add to that a zero-tolerance policy for any blips or misreads, which are inevitable with electronics and almost always a harmless power fluctuation or something, and we keep busy.”

  “Well, that’s job security, right?” he teased.

  “Exactly!” She grabbed the tool kit she’d set on the chair next to her. “I hope I get to see you again before you go, but if not, take care. I’ll come visit Dragonfire as soon as I can.”

  He rose too, and she surprised him by stepping forward and giving him a warm hug. “New adventures are great, but there’s nothing like an old friend,” she whispered near his ear.

  “See ya!”

  Then she was gone and his world dimmed a little. Some people just had that effect.