Heart of a Peacekeeper

by Angela Verdenius

The Daamen trader who annoyed the hell out of her was now laying on his back on her table, his staff, though still impressive, lying limp and damp in the nest of black curls between the heavily-muscled thighs. Actually, that thick, limp member hung lower than the nest of curls.

  She swallowed, and could almost imagine she could taste him. Male. Strong. Potent. Quickly she took a big mouthful of hot una, nearly burning her tongue in the process, and then put the mug down.

  She rubbed the heels of her hands against her eyes and groaned.

  Meaning to push him to his limits, to test how much control he'd let her take, she hadn't planned on getting carried away and seducing him! She'd thought he'd get rough, try to force her to his bidding so she could kick his handsome arse out the door, but no. The big lout had let her take charge. Without a word.

  Well, technically not without a word. He'd groaned and moaned and roared out. While she'd sucked him dry.

  The kisses had led to heat, and that heat had led to a desire to taste so much more of him.

  "Oh bloody hell!” I am such a slut! Oversexed!

  "Boss?” Marcel peered around the door of the little lab. “Des?"

  "Huh? What?” Startled, she jerked, her elbow hitting the mug of una and tipping it over. “Oh, crap!” Des leaped up out of the chair, narrowly avoiding the hot liquid.

  "Are you all right?” Marcel looked worriedly at her. “I heard you groaning."

  "I'm fine. Fine.” Grabbing a cloth, she proceeded to mop up the spill.

  "You sure? You look kind of drained."

  Not as much as Simon. “Of course I'm all right!” Des almost bellowed.

  "Maybe it was something you ate."

  It was something she'd eaten, all right. “Do you have anything to tell me, or are you just wasting my time?"

  Marcel held up his hands, palms out. “Sorry. Uh...” His face brightened. “Actually, yes!"

  "What is it?” She tossed the cloth into the sink.

  "Yucel said to tell you that Adin is going to contact you in a few minutes."

  "Fine.” At least it would help take her mind of the dreadful mistake she'd just made.

  Following him out into the main office, she sat on the edge of her desk and looked broodingly at the large screen on the wall. Hopefully he'd have something newsworthy for her to deal with in relation to the murders. Anything to take her mind off that hunk of testosterone she'd left wrung out on her table.

  Don't think about it. Don't think about it. Don't think about it.

  It was a relief when Sharver's Head Peacekeeper appeared on the screen, but he looked graver than she'd ever seen him.

  "Des,” he greeted her briefly, and without waiting for a reply, continued, “There's strong outlaw activity around our settlement at the moment. Two murders overnight, and one savage beating. All by unknown men."

  "I'd have said unknown men weren't unusual, Adin, but you know about our murders last night?” Resting one hand on the desk, she started drumming her fingers.

  "Yucel informed me. It's also apparent that the same killer or killers might be doing the murders."

  "What makes you think that?"

  "My two murder victims last night were scalped as well."

  "Really.” She frowned. “Now why would the murderers go from one settlement to the other?"

  "Not wanting to linger long in one place, I'm guessing."

  "You think? What are the details of your murders?"

  Adin consulted something off screen. “Two tavern women raped and murdered. Scalped."

  "Were they otherwise damaged?"

  "No."

  Des pursed her lips. “Then I don't think it's the same killers."

  "What?” Adin's eyes narrowed. “Why?"

  "Because our killers disemboweled and carved our girls open.” Her fingers drummed faster. “I'm thinking that whoever is at the bottom of this just may want us to think it's the same scum, and they've moved on.” A sudden thought struck her. “Were there any murders in Calton or Merder?"

  "One ... and he was scalped, too."

  "He?"

  "A man, yes."

  "Really.” Rubbing her chin thoughtfully, Des looked at Marcel. “That's a bit of a slip-up, isn't it?"

  Marcel nodded. “One man breaks a pattern they're trying to establish."

  "I'm following you.” Adin looked grim. “By scalping women only, they're trying to make it look like a pattern, but this stray killing doesn't fit."

  "Maybe someone got over-eager.” Des stared into space, her mind working fast. “There's more than one killer, we know that. More than one killer, and spread over three settlements so far. And the mystery spaceship has been seen near three of those four settlements."

  "And that isn't good.” Adin leaned back in his chair. “Someone is targeting the settlements, but only ours at this time. Why?"

  "They want something,” Des guessed.

  "Planning something,” Marcel added.

  "Yeah. And it involves our settlements, or the people in it. But why blow up our warehouse?” Des mused. “What could they possibly hope to gain by doing that?"

  "If there was anything valuable in it, blowing it up would defeat the purpose."

  "Maybe they were testing how fast our response was?” Marcel queried.

  Des stared at him.

  "Just a theory.” He shrugged.

  "And a bloody good one!” Des exclaimed. “If whoever it is is planning something, then they want to see how fast we're responding. That might be why the murders are so widespread, to see if we're working together, and how fast we're working. Marcel, I think you're onto something."

  He grinned. “In favor with the Boss for once!"

  "Brown-nose,” Yucel said mildly.

  Ignoring them, Des studied Adin. “So what do you think we should do now?"

  "Well, I think we need to send each other all the information we have gathered, and see if by sharing we can't come up with something more concrete to work on."

  "I agree. What about Bryce and Magus?"

  "Share with them, too. The more brains working on this, the better."

  "Agreed. I'll send you what I have now."

  They spoke for a few more minutes, and then Adin went off the air.

  Sitting down behind her desk, Des brought up the information she had, added what Simon had told her and filed it before sending it to all three head peacekeepers via viscomm. Within minutes their reports filtered through onto her computer, and she transferred it up on to the big screen.

  "Where'd you get the info that the mystery spaceship wasn't from the Lawful or Outlaw Sector that you know of?” Yucel queried curiously.

  "From a little informant.” Always one to play her cards close to her chest until she was more certain of her facts, Des skimmed over the subject.

  They studied the information, but there wasn't much different to what they already knew. Clicking off the information, Des sighed and stretched.

  "Well, I'm going to go back out and—” Marcel's voice was cut off by a sudden sharp crackle over the communication system, making Yucel wince and swear.

  "This is Aiken! If anyone can hear me, I'm under attack and hit!"

  "What?” Marcel stepped forward. “Aiken!"

  "Tell us where you are, Aiken,” Yucel ordered. “I'm not picking you up on the scanner!"

  "You're not?” Des looked at the scanner, but it showed nothing, which was alarming because the pursuit crafts were all locked into the scanner so their whereabouts could be tracked at all times.

  "I've been shot at and hit!” Aiken's voice crackled, cutting out slightly.

  "Give us your coordinates!” Des demanded.

  "My instruments are out! It's around the Gorge area! I—” Static cut in several times, then he said something that alarmed Des even more. “I'm going down, and fast! They're still shoot—” There was a loud whining sound followed by an explosion, then just faint static.

  "Damn!” Des was running for the door. “Marcel! Come with
me!” Skidding to a halt, she snapped out, “Yucel! Get Emory and Chas out of bed and tell them to patrol the skies around the settlement in case something is going to happen here! Tell them to be primed and ready to fire! Get Raf and Huxley on standby!"

  Within seconds they were strapped into their pursuit crafts, Des radioing Orde to meet them immediately with lasers primed and ready to fire.

  They lifted high above the settlement, wheeling away in the sky to fly full-throttle towards the Gorge area.

  Glancing down as she passed over her house, Des saw a dark-haired figure come out, and her heart skipped a beat. Simon. He looked up as they sped overhead, and Des was relieved that she wouldn't be seeing him face-to-face for a while.

  "Orde here,” Orde's voice came over the intercom. “I'm switching to communication receivers to enable listening to the Enforcer Building as well."

  Silently cursing the momentary distraction, Des focused on the mission, slipping the tiny communication receiver into her ear and ensuring it was secure. Marcel did the same, and now it was as though they were sitting in the same room as Yucel.

  "We have to go in carefully.” Des checked her seat restraints. “Aiken didn't have time to tell us who or how many were blasting at him."

  "It can't be good if they managed to take him out of the sky,” Marcel said grimly. “He's one of our best flyers."

  "Too right."

  Keeping talk down to a minimum, Des swore when Yucel suddenly spoke sharply. “I've lost you on the scanner!"

  "What?” Marcel barked out.

  "The scanner. You've disappeared from it!"

  "Then get us the bloody hell back on!” Des snapped. “If there's an emergency, we need visual with you!"

  "I'm trying, I'm trying!” He sounded panicked. “Hell!"

  "Just settle down, Yucel.” Orde's voice calmly came through communication receivers. “Go through the procedures one by one. You know what to do. You're one of our best communications and scanner operators."

  "I just don't know what's going on!” Yucel took a deep breath, audible in the communication receivers.

  "Keep working on it,” Des said tightly.

  Orde's pursuit craft came up on Des's left, and she nodded to him through the space shield.

  The pursuit crafts soared through the sky towards the Gorge area, twenty miles north of Tyron.

  Rain pattered from the sky, a light drizzle that gradually gave way to clouds and then sun. Below them the ground changed from green grasslands to dust and mounds with the odd cave.

  Ten minutes passed and then Orde's voice came through. “I can see Aiken's craft. To the left."

  Looking out the shield, Des spotted it in the distance. Smoke came from the back of it, and a couple of men were making their way warily towards it, lasers held out. “Have you got us on scanner yet, Yucel?"

  "No, I—” Static sounded loudly in Des's communication receiver and Yucel's voice disappeared.

  "Boss, I've lost Yucel,” Marcel growled.

  "Same,” Orde added.

  "Damn.” Could anything else go wrong? Des shook her head in disgust. “Let's hope he picks us up again soon. I'm not picking any fighter craft up on our scanners. How about you two?"

  "Nothing,” Marcel said, and Orde agreed.

  "Then let's go in."

  Orde soared ahead, skimming low over the men, wheeling away as they raised their lasers and fired. In the dirt not far from the downed craft, Aiken was trying to crawl towards a hill. One of his legs was dragging uselessly in the dirt.

  "We've got a man down,” Des said. “Marcel, you go up and see what you can spot of the lay of the land. Orde you continue as you are and I'll go straight down the middle. If you continue to draw the fire of those outlaws, I might be able to land and get Aiken aboard my craft."

  Marcel circled around in the sky, and Orde continued to draw the outlaws’ fire, keeping them back from where Aiken was still trying to crawl towards the cave.

  Then it came out from under what everyone had presumed to be a pile of rock and dust. The ship flew out with amazing speed, dirt flying up and rock shattering. The spaceship was long, sleek and fast, faster than anything the peacekeepers had ever seen in their lives.

  Behind it came two small fighters.

  "What the hell?” Des swore. “They weren't on the scanners!"

  "Must be using blockers,” Orde said.

  "Bloody illegal paraphernalia!"

  "We can take the fighters,” Marcel said grimly.

  Des had no doubt they could, until the mystery ship started dodging between the pursuit crafts, making them all veer and wheel away, the speed with which it did so enabling the smaller fighters to expertly come underneath or over it and behind the pursuit crafts.

  Orde tried to get on the tail of one of the fighters, but it flew under the mystery ship, which in turn veered away quickly, and Orde had to pull up sharply, swearing hard, to avoid a collision with Des's craft. His laser fire almost scraped the cabin of her pursuit craft.

  "Bastard!” Des yelled.

  "Sorry Boss,” Orde said. “I didn't—"

  "Not you, that bloody ship! If I get my hands on the pilots, I'll rip their lungs out!"

  A third little fighter appeared, and now the chase was on in the sky. The outlaw fighters had obvious knowledge of the mystery ship, and were able to follow its course with no problems.

  "What's going on?” Yucel demanded.

  "I wondered where you'd gone!” Des hung on grimly as she flipped the pursuit craft upside down to dodge laser fire. “We're in the middle of a bloody tea party, what do you think?"

  "You keep flickering off the scanner—” His words cut off.

  "What the hell is happening to communications?” Des demanded.

  Concentrating on flying, Marcel didn't answer her, but his cursing was clear when his craft got hit, and it careered out of the sky to land in a pile of dirt, smoke coming from the back.

  "Marcel's down!” she informed Orde tersely, peering out of the side of her space shield. Fire started to flicker at the back of the craft. “Bloody hell!” About to fly down and land, she saw the shield go up, then Marcel was running for the small cave nearby. His craft went up in flames.

  Breathing a sigh of relief, Des turned her gaze back to the front of the shield, only to gasp as laser fire tore a hole in the shield and seared right past her head.

  "Close,” Orde said tersely.

  "No joke?” Des saw two of the fighters closing in on him. “Orde! One from above and one below!"

  Even as she spoke, Orde veered left abruptly, cursing, as the mystery ship flashed within inches of him, the turbulence shaking the pursuit craft.

  Swooping around to try and cover Orde's back, Des felt laser fire from beneath hit her craft, and sparks started to fly from the console. An alarm peeled.

  "Oh, you're kidding!” Des keyed in the damage report program, only to scowl as she read it on the screen. “I'm going down, Orde!"

  "I'll try to draw the fighters off you!"

  "Just watch your own arse, Orde! I—crap! To your left! Your left! From under that damned ship—” She didn't have time to finish before her craft shuddered and veered sharply downward.

  Clenching her teeth, Des tried to regain control. She managed to sluice it around and aim in the direction of the cave. Bracing herself for the impact, she held onto the steering levers as the pursuit vehicle crashed onto the earth, sand spraying up.

  Air bags burst around her from the sides, top and front, giving her a measure of protection, but a huge section of shattered shield wrenched from its twisted framework sliced though the airbag on Des's right, the sharp edge cutting her just above her temple.

  She didn't even know she'd been cut until the blood started to trickle down her face.

  Catching her breath, she battled her way through the airbags, and suddenly they deflated. Blinking, she tried to orientate her shaken senses. Dimly she registered Orde's smoking pursuit craft not far from her, the back al
ready in flames. His door was open and he was scrambling from the ruins, a manblaster and the survival pack slung over his shoulder.

  "Get out of there, Des!” Marcel yelled through her communication receiver. “There are outlaws coming over the ridge! And the fighters are coming back! Bail out!"

  "Bugger me!” Unable to open the door, Des hauled herself out through the broken shield.

  Reaching back in, she dragged the survival kit from where it was fastened to the side of the door, and grabbed the manblaster from the strap holding it behind the pilot seat. Slinging both of them over one shoulder, she sprinted across the burning sand.

  Running for the partially open cave in the small hill, she could see a group of easily ten outlaws coming over the top of another small hill not too far away. They were firing at her but their laser flare didn't hit.

  The fighter crafts swooped low but didn't fire at the running peacekeepers, which Des knew was just plain wrong. They had the chance to kill her and Orde, so why weren't they taking it?

  Her gaze fell on Aiken lying in the dirt. He'd stopped moving, and she changed direction and ran to him, dropping to one knee beside him. His pulse fluttered weakly.

  "Help me get him on my back.” She didn't look at Orde, but slipped the manblaster and survival kit from her shoulder.

  Dimly she heard the yipping and taunting cries of the outlaws coming over the ridge.

  "Move your arse, Boss!” Marcel barked over the communication receiver. “Those outlaws are on the hunt!"

  Without a word, Orde helped Des get Aiken over her shoulder, and he steadied her as she pushed upright. Shouldering her manblaster and the survival kit as well as his own, he nodded briefly at her before they both veered back towards the cave and ran.

  It wasn't easy, the dirt sucking at Des's boots with every step. The weight of Aiken slowed her down, but she simply focused on the partial opening of the cave and concentrated.

  Orde was weighted down with the manblasters, which were heavy and cumbersome, but he didn't drop them. Loping along beside her, he kept pace, ready to lend assistance if needed.

  Laser fire peppered the ground, scorching the earth. One flare went right past Des's shoulder, and Orde was narrowly missed when a flare just missed his boot.

  "Not far now!” Marcel yelled encouragingly. “Move it!"