Heart of a Peacekeeper

by Angela Verdenius

  He started toeing amongst the ruins, one dark brow raised as he glanced at her from under his fringe of hair.

  "Did big, bad Aiken take away your pursuit craft?"

  "He said you wanted help."

  "And you came on foot. Orde, such dedication! See, Raf, now that's a dedicated peacekeeper for you."

  Raf rolled his eyes.

  "Dedication that would be good to see in my foot patrols."

  Raf rolled his eyes again.

  Grinning, Des moved further around the rubble. “I am so touched that you came to help, Orde. You're such a good example to the rest of my flyboys."

  "Always at your service,” he said dryly.

  "Did you hear that, Raf? Dedication!"

  "I think I'm going to be ill,” Raf replied.

  Laughing, Des started to move further into the pile of rubble.

  "By the way.” Raf grunted as he pushed a heavy piece of drum aside. “Adin, the Head Peacekeeper, said his settlement was attacked by outlaws early this morning."

  "Sharver?” Stopping, Des frowned. “That's only a hundred miles from here."

  "Yeah."

  "How many hurt?"

  "Three of his peacekeepers are dead."

  "Aw, shit.” She rubbed her brow, and took a deep breath. “Okay, you and Orde keep searching this mess for anything unusual. Get a reading for any traces of unusual elements that might help ID whatever did this. I'm going back to the Enforcement Building to contact Adin and see how he is."

  "He's not happy."

  "You don't say?” She left her men to their sorting assignment and went back to the Building.

  "The natives in the cells are growing restless,” Huxley greeted her as she walked through the door.

  "Who gives a vagrat's arse?” Des dropped down in the chair behind her desk and touched the communication sign on the viscomm screen.

  A listing of the different Enforcement Buildings in various settlements came up, and she touched Sharver. Almost immediately Adin's face appeared. He looked tired, angry and sad all at once.

  "Heard you were attacked,” Des said bluntly.

  "Yeah.” He shook his head. “A pack of outlaws attacked."

  "Did you get any?"

  "Six. All dead."

  "Know any of them?"

  "Nope. Strangers all."

  "Nothing came up on the body scanners?"

  He gave her a look that spoke volumes.

  "Right.” She sighed. “I hear you lost some of your men."

  "Three dead, and one in critical condition."

  "I'm sorry, Adin. Do you need me to send you one of my men until you get replacements?"

  "Thanks, but no. Replacements are arriving from the academy tonight."

  "You're all right?"

  "Fine.” His smile was bitter. “If one can be fine after losing friends."

  "Yeah. I'm sorry.” She felt a bit useless repeating the phrase, but she knew nothing she said would make him feel better.

  "I know you are.” He shoved his hand through his hair and straightened. “I hear you had some trouble yourself last night."

  Des drummed her fingers on the desk top. “One of our warehouses was blown up."

  "Raf said. You don't know who?"

  "The spaceship was fast. The fastest I've ever seen, in fact. We couldn't catch it."

  "Damn."

  "We had some unknown outlaws in the settlement as well.” Des suddenly narrowed her eyes. “We were attacked..."

  Adin's gaze sharpened. “You were attacked as well?"

  Leaning her folded arms on the desk top, Des pursed her lips. “Yes, we were. And the body scanner didn't recognize any of the dead."

  There was silence for several seconds between them before Adin spoke again. “That's odd, Des. Two packs of unknown outlaws attacking two separate settlements so close together."

  "Damned odd. I don't like it. I've got the pursuit crafts patrolling the sky."

  "Who do you think it could be? We have trouble now and again, it's normal on the outskirts of the Outlaw Sector, but packs of attacking outlaws aren't hugely common, not when there's still a bit of law and order around."

  "It's not unusual to have pockets of trouble like this,” Des reminded him. “It's happened before, but as you say, normally it happens when some of us are out hunting, then the outlaws will attack while our numbers are few. But as you say, to attack while we're at full force is uncommon. And to hit several settlements at once is almost unheard of."

  "There's something going on, you think? Or is it an isolated incident?"

  "I'm not sure. I'll contact some of the other settlements, see what's going on out there."

  Adin nodded. “Let me know if you hear anything unusual."

  Des smiled a little. “Unusual in the Outlaw Sector isn't unusual, Adin."

  He laughed. “Spot on."

  They spoke for a few more minutes on general things before Des closed off communication. The next Enforcement Building she contacted was Bryce's, in Calton. His news was just as sobering. They, too, had been attacked, but he was fortunate in that only one of his peacekeepers had been injured. He definitely wasn't happy to hear that Des's settlement, Tyron, and Sharver had been attacked.

  "There's something going down,” he soberly told Des. “Merder was also attacked."

  "Shit. That's bad.” Des rubbed her brow. “Magus is okay?"

  "He's got a broken collar bone, but he was ranting and raving early this morn on the viscomm.” Bryce grinned. “Nothing will hold him down for long."

  "That's because the man is nuts. The whole damned settlement is scared of him."

  "Just like your settlement is scared of you."

  "Best way to keep the vermin in this place down."

  His humor vanished. “The vermin appear to be multiplying, Des."

  The smile faded from Des's lips. “Have you heard of anyone else being attacked?"

  "I looked at that, but it seems it was only our four settlements. I don't know why."

  "Interesting. Have you noticed anything unusual?"

  "There was a really fast spaceship nearby, but my pursuit peacekeepers couldn't catch it."

  "Hell's bells. We had the same thing. Did Magus mention it?"

  "No. I asked him that, but he didn't see anything."

  "Hmmm.” Drumming her fingers on the desk top again, Des thoughtfully stared into space. “I think I'll go for a little wander and see what I can pick up from the local dregs of society."

  "I heard you managed to catch an outlaw alive, one who attacked your settlement. He was wounded."

  "He died early the next morning.” Des frowned. “Yucel found him in the cell. You'd think the man could have picked after he'd talked to die. Damned inconvenient."

  "Bastard. Anyway, I'm going to follow your example and wander around my settlement, see if I can overhear anything useful."

  Des signed off and got up. Yucel was off for the day, and Huxley still didn't look too healthy, though he'd insisted on coming in to work. She'd grounded him to office duties. Raf and Orde were searching the scene of the collapsed warehouse, trying to find any source that might explain the mystery box. Sol didn't know anything about the box. Aiken had left five minutes ago to resume sky patrol. The other peacekeepers were sleeping, having worked the night duty.

  She decided to check on the progress of the Raf and Orde, and then it was time to do some shaking down.

  A cool wind had kicked up, clouds were building up on the horizon, and the promise of rain was in the air. It was the weather she liked. Rain. It freshened everything up, washed away the dust to reveal the cobblestones, and if it was heavy enough, meant that outlaw activity would be low. Heavy rain in this section of the Outlaw Sector could be light one minute, and teeming the next, making visibility almost nil.

  Raf and Orde were halfway through the rubble, and sweating profusely.

  "Hard work is something you two aren't used to, obviously,” she greeted them.

  Raf gr
imaced. “It's hot work. Have you come to help?"

  "See, that's the beauty of being the boss, Raf.” She smirked. “I get to give the orders and make the decisions. A perk of the job."

  "I take it the answer is no, then."

  "You're a bright boy."

  A ghost of a smile played around Orde's lips.

  "So, what're you doing?” Taking the opportunity to have a breather, Raf looked up at Des.

  She grew serious. “The Sharver, Calton and Merder settlements were all attacked. Our mystery spaceship was spotted near Sharver and Calton."

  Orde stopped moving and looked up at her. “The peacekeepers?"

  "Some dead, some injured. The dead outlaws didn't show up on the body scanner, so their identity is unknown, which means they're either from another planet further into the Outlaw Sector, or have never been caught."

  Raf muttered an obscenity.

  "Yeah, my sentiments exactly.” Des tucked an errant curl behind her ear. “I'm going to start going through the settlement, see who I can get info from. I want you two to finish up here, report anything unusual into the computer for me to look at later, then start shaking down the lowlifes living outside the settlement. Raf, you go with Orde to do it."

  "What radius do you want us to cover?” Orde asked quietly.

  "Ten miles to start with."

  "It'll take awhile."

  "Do I look like I care how long it takes? Just do it once you've finished here, okay?"

  Unfazed, the men nodded.

  Starting to stride away, she stopped and added, “Before you go, make sure you have a decent lunch, and then take food and drink with you in case you take longer than you think, all right?"

  "I knew you cared,” Orde murmured.

  "Yeah, right. I just can't afford to lose any peacekeepers at the moment."

  "She cares,” Raf informed Orde gravely. “Loves us to death."

  Des rolled her eyes and walked away.

  * * * *

  "The price has gone up,” Jude announced.

  Aamun's brows went up. “Pardon?"

  "The price of the glassware has gone up."

  Simon gazed down at the little warehouse owner. “Would it have anything to do with the collapse of the only other warehouse that has glassware in the settlement?"

  "I don't know what you mean,” Jude replied, though his gaze faltered beneath Aamun's stern look.

  "Sol's warehouse collapsed, remember?” Simon leaned his shoulder against the wall. “He had the only other glassware in Tyron."

  "Has nothing to do with it,” Jude stated.

  "Good. Now is the price still higher than what we agreed upon before we arrived?"

  "Times are tough—"

  "'Twas a fair price, and well you know it."

  Jude shrugged.

  "Fine. Let's go, Aamun."

  "You'll be sorry!” Jude scurried after them. “There're some fine pieces of glassware in those crates! One of a kind, I tell you!"

  "Then I hope you find the right market for them, Jude.” Simon didn't slow down. “Because once I inform the Daamen Trading Base of your double-cross, you won't find another Daamen trader willing to do business with you."

  "What?” Jude's tone changed.

  "You heard.” Aamun strode past him and fell into step with Simon.

  "Wait! Wait, I'm sure we can talk about this!” Alarmed, Jude ran after them.

  Simon rounded angrily on him.

  Jude went pale and stopped running.

  "We had an agreement, and you broke it. You're not to be trusted, and we don't deal with swindlers,” Simon growled. “Consider any future dealings null and void with the Daamen traders."

  "No! It was a mistake! I'm sorry, I—"

  "It's done, Jude. Goodbye."

  Jude was almost blubbering, but Simon ignored him, crossing to the stores across the street. No one made a fool of a Daamen trader and got away with it. From now on, Jude would be blackballed by the Daamen Trading Base.

  "What a bastard,” Aamun said mildly, as they stepped up onto the verandah.

  "Aye.” Opening the door to the store, Simon's attention was caught by a fair amount of yelling from inside. “Now what ‘tis going on in here?"

  Aamun followed him inside, and they both stopped and stared at the sight before them.

  Des had the storekeeper pinned up against the wall, her hands fisted in his shirt. He was up on tiptoe, his face red, and still he was beneath her height.

  Glaring down at him, she snarled, “You must know something."

  "I don't! I swear!” Frantically, he writhed in her grip. “I swear!"

  "You swore on your mother's grave once, but that didn't hold true, especially as she's still alive. Now I want to know who the outlaws are.” She gave him a shake, making his head bang back against the wall. “Now!"

  "I don't—"

  "Don't make me reach down your throat and pull you inside out, Nax. I know you supply some of the outlaws."

  "Half the damn settlement are outlaws!” he yelled.

  "So who bought that big load of food from you, Nax? I know about that.” Lifting him up, she slammed him back against the wall.

  Simon and Aamun exchanged curious glances. Now what was the wench up to?

  Damn, she looked so good, her face in that familiar scowl, her generous curves and height giving credence to her strength. Simon had felt that strength used against himself, and he just knew a wrestling match with her would be really interesting.

  Especially the kind of wrestling match he was thinking about.

  "I don't know anything about the food!” Nax screeched. “My store boy sold it to someone, and now he's disappeared, too!"

  "You never reported that to me."

  "You don't care what I sell!"

  "Not that, you boofhead. Your missing store boy."

  "Boys come and go! They—urk!” His words were choked off when she slammed him down painfully onto his feet.

  Bringing her face close to his, she snarled, “You hear anything—and I mean anything—and you're to come directly to me and spill your guts, you got that? Because if you keep anything back, I'm going to hunt you down and spread you from one end of the settlement to the other."

  Gasping for breath, he could barely manage even a small nod.

  Releasing him abruptly, Des swung around, ignoring the fact that Nax dropped to his knees, dragging in deep breaths of air. Seeing Aamun and Simon, her scowl grew darker.

  "Hello, lass,” Simon drawled. “Hope we didn't disturb your little chat."

  "What the hell do you want?"

  You. Simon smiled. “We had come in to buy a few things, but I see the storekeeper is a little distracted right now."

  "Trying to breath,” Aamun added, the laughter clear in his deep tones.

  Des walked across the store, her boots thumping on the boards, her gaze direct as she moved closer.

  Simon couldn't help but notice the sway of her hips, but he managed to keep his gaze on her face.

  Passing them without another word, she left the store.

  "Damn!” The storekeeper pushed shakily to his feet. “That bitch is savage about something!"

  A flare of anger went through Simon, and he glared at the storekeeper. “The wench is doing her job, ‘tis all."

  "She's still a bitch.” At the fisting of the trader's big hands, the storekeeper gulped. “I mean, she jailed you mob, didn't she?"

  In several long strides, Simon was standing over the now quaking storekeeper. “You'll keep a civil tongue in your head when you speak about the Head Peacekeeper, Nax. You hear me?"

  "Yes,” Nax squeaked.

  "I ever hear you call her foul names again, and I'll be the one doing the spreading of you from one end of the settlement to the other."

  "All right, sure, whatever you say,” Nax babbled. “I'm sorry. I didn't know that you two had anything going—"

  "We don't.” Simon's jaw clenched. “But I don't like hearing anyone bad-mouthing a w
ench who's trying to do her job and keep your worthless hides safe. So watch your mouth when you talk about her."

  Nax nodded frantically, his frightened eyes going from Simon to Aamun and back again.

  Resisting the urge to knock some sense into the smaller man, Simon swung away and walked back out of the store. Once outside, he stopped on the verandah and drew a deep breath.

  Aamun came up beside him. “Well."

  "What?” Simon watched as a man ran furtively from a nearby tavern. Instinctively knowing that Des had to be inside, and his curiosity piqued, he stepped down off the verandah.

  "You've got the bad-tempered Head Peacekeeper on your mind."

  "I just don't like hearing—"

  "Anyone bad-mouthing her, aye, I heard. But, Simon, I'm thinking ‘tis a little different this time."

  "Nonsense.” He started towards the tavern.

  "Mmm.” Aamun murmured, but he didn't say anymore.

  Opening the doors of the tavern, Simon entered and looked around. Sure enough, Des was leaning over a nearby table, her hands braced upon it. The three occupiers were answering her nervously.

  Another man slipped up the stairs.

  Taking a seat at the bar, Simon ordered ale, Aamun doing the same. Keeping his back to the room, Simon watched Des through the big mirror behind the bar.

  Her questions were short, her gaze intent as she scrutinized each man in turn. At one stage, she stabbed her finger in the direction of one of the men, and he nodded quickly. Finished with that table, she straightened, looked around, found another patron and strode purposely over to him.

  The man was sitting like a vagrat caught in lights, his eyes almost desperate as he watched Des coming towards him. Getting up, he tried to slip past her, but she grabbed his shirt front and continued walking, propelling him backwards as she did so and slamming him down into his chair. Grabbing a nearby chair, she plunked it down in front of him and straddled it back to front. Then she started talking low, but her scowl was still firmly in place, lending her a forbidding air.

  "The Demon is working hard.” Chuckling, the barkeeper handed the two mugs of ale to the traders.

  "So ‘twould seem.” Simon watched the byplay in the reflection of the mirror. “What's she after?"

  "Information.” The barkeeper leaned his elbows on the counter, his little eyes twinkling. “She'll hunt down every known felon in this settlement, you watch. She'll have her men crawling over every dwelling that every felon lives in, asking questions and poking around until they find whatever they're looking for."