Heart of a Peacekeeper

by Angela Verdenius

  Flinching, Simon nearly swallowed his tongue when the sound of the explosion roared through the viscomm, the sound reverberating through the cabin. Panic pulled at him when he couldn't hear any voices at all.

  The roar was followed by another, and dimly he heard swearing, but he couldn't tell from whom it was coming.

  "Des! Des, speak to me!"

  A third roar tore through the communication system, and then the static sound of lasers firing rapidly.

  "To the right!” Orde yelled. “Outlaws to the right!"

  Heart thundering, Simon could only listen helplessly as words were shouted out, and only when he faintly heard a feminine voice yelling orders did he relax—but not much, because right in the middle of the hell exploding around and in the settlement was his lass.

  And he was helpless, thousands of miles and six hours flight away.

  Quickly he channeled the communications through to the Sharver peacekeepers, announcing only his name and reason before connecting them directly to the head microphones used by the peacekeepers.

  Almost immediately he heard Adin asking questions, and knew by his curse that he couldn't hear clearly what was happening, either.

  A boom sounded, and then other voices, a pounding of what could only have been people running on a wooden sidewalk.

  "Don't kill the Demon!” A male shouted in the background. “Canute wants her alive!"

  "He can bugger off, too,” Des said clearly.

  Holding anxiously onto the armrest of the chair, Simon nearly snapped it in two at the relief of hearing her. He had to go back to her. Had to help. Had to try. Reaching for the controls, he was startled when Aamun slipped into the chair beside him and also reached for the controls.

  "We're going back, right?” Aamun demanded.

  "Aye. We have to.” He caught himself. “I have to."

  "Nay, we have to.” Aamun gave him a steady look. “No arguing, no thanks, no nothing. We heard what was happening through the intercom."

  Simon nodded slowly. “Aye. I'm not leaving her."

  "We never thought you would."

  Straightening in the chair, Simon flicked the intercom to the engine rooms on. “Are you in the engine cabin yet, Torkra?"

  "Aye,” Torkra's reply was grim.

  "Full power. We need to get back as fast as we can.” He thrust one had agitatedly through his hair. “'Twill take us at least six hours. She could be dead by then. Damn it!"

  "Mayhap a bit sooner, Cap'n,” Torkra said.

  "We can't go faster, Torkra."

  "Sonja was fiddling around in the engines with me before we left. Added a little something in case we needed it. A booster, she said."

  "She what?” Aamun demanded.

  "Sonja said you'd react like that about your ‘precious engine', as she called it.” Torkra sounded amused. “Made me promise not to tell you unless it was an emergency."

  "What about telling me?” Simon shook his head. “Never mind! Whatever she stuck in the engines, use it!"

  "Test time coming up,” Torkra said.

  "Test time?” Aamun looked at the speed clocking up and his eyes widened. “Hells bells!"

  "'Tis good?” Torkra asked eagerly.

  Simon could have kissed both Torkra and the ex-pirate wench. Quickly working it out, he grinned in relief. “We'll be there in three hours, thank God!"

  Shamon stuck his head around the door. “What the hell did the wench put in the engines?"

  "I don't know and I could care less,” Simon retorted. “I just want to get back to my lass.” There was one more thing he had to do. Call Creed.

  Fourteen

  Standing by the window of his ship as it hovered on the outskirts of the settlement, Canute watched the destruction. The outlaws were ruthless, methodical, obeying orders, and until the job was done, that was what he expected. Once he had what he'd come for, well then ... they could party all they wanted.

  Somewhere down there in the middle of the fight was Desdemona. That concerned him. He'd thought she'd be in her home, but she'd been spotted by Levi. Canute had sent one of his own men to her home, but the smart woman had a safety shield surrounding it. There was no way anyone could enter unless she allowed it. The only other thing was blowing it up, but he was loath to do that.

  He wanted to see how she lived. Her possessions. Her style. Once he had her in his grasp, then he could get an invite into her home. But first he had to get her alive.

  "The one to capture The Demon alive and unharmed gets a substantial reward,” he murmured. “As they all know."

  The night sky was red and yellow with flames that soared up into the air from the exploded ships in the docking bay. The huge geological digging machinery hovered over the area where the warehouse had collapsed.

  Sol was such a stupid bastard. He should have taken better care of things, but what could one expect from a crawler such as that merchant?

  The flare of laser fire showered the night sky, peppered through the alleys of the settlement and seared through the streets.

  "What's happening, Ruan?” Canute drawled.

  "Peacekeepers are holed up near the Enforcer Building. They're fighting."

  "The Demon?"

  "She's there."

  "I want her."

  "We know."

  The sound of laser fire sounded in the cabin. Hands behind his back, Canute rocked lazily back and forth on his heels. His time of having to be in the middle of battle was over. Like a conqueror, he walked in once the fight was over.

  He wondered how long this fight would be.

  Confident, he waited and watched and listened as several buildings flared up. The sound of people screaming came to him, and with mild interest he had Zared flick on the visual screen so he could get a closer view of what was happening in Tyron.

  Several dead bodies littered the street. Smoke obscured most of docking bay. Fire burned. Several people were desperately putting out the fire in one tavern as others tried to scramble clear from the second floor. His men shot the settlers who came running out waving weapons.

  Most entertaining. Picking up the wine glass, Canute took a sip.

  * * * *

  Skidding to a halt, Des dropped to one knee and peered through the dust being kicked up by the huge machine.

  Orde came to a crouching halt behind her.

  The peacekeepers had split up, Des sending Raf and Huxley in one direction to see if they could spot the ringleader of the outlaws. Emory and Marcel went in another direction, and Yucel was given the job of checking Aiken and making sure he didn't try anything stupid—such as hobbling out on crutches with a laser in his back pocket.

  Adin, now in contact thanks to the Daamen trading ship, was on his way with help, while the Tyron peacekeepers were trying to target the ringleaders of the outlaws, trying to find a weak spot.

  Knowing it had something to do with this machine, Des headed for it, keeping to cover as she did so. Several skirmishes later and she and Orde were crouched down watching it.

  "What the hell is it doing?” Des watched as a long, thick metal tube vibrated against the dirt, then slowly started turning, screwing itself into the ground.

  "Drilling,” Orde replied. “It's drilling for something."

  "Drilling?” Des scowled. “Of course. The geological scanner. I guess we've found out what that box was doing here. The outlaws are after something buried down there."

  "Something worth a lot of money,” Orde added.

  "Buggered if I know what, though.” Des stared at the pole.

  It was huge, and she could feel the vibration of the powerful drill even from where she crouched.

  "Think the outlaw leader is in there?” She queried.

  "Doubt it,” Orde answered. “Leaders don't usually run smack into the thick of the fight."

  A muffled snort was heard, a very deep, muffled snort. Simon. Des ignored him. “We could take this big bastard down,” she stated.

  "How?” Adin asked promptly, his voi
ce crackling over the communication receiver in her ear.

  "Explosives are back in the Enforcer Building."

  "The Building is half destroyed. It's not safe."

  "No, really? And it's such a picnic on the street."

  "Des, this is no time to get smart!"

  "No time to be dumb, either. Get rid of this thing and the outlaws might leave. No need for them to hang around."

  "You don't know what ‘tis drilling. You could explode the whole settlement,” Simon said tightly.

  He was right, of course. Des rubbed her forehead and scowled. “Fine. I can try and get into it."

  "Into it? Des, I have that monster on a visual now. The only way up is on the drill, and you'll be shaken to pieces if you even attempt it."

  Plan two down. Des glanced at Orde, but he shrugged, also at a loss.

  "Fine. Adin, how far away are you?"

  "Twenty miles and closing fast. I'm expecting fighters anytime soon."

  "How many pursuit crafts have you got with you?"

  "Four of my own, two from Bryce at Calton. I've left two pursuit crafts back home to patrol our skies, Bryce left most of his to do the same and Magus is trying to split his force between the settlements."

  "I've a feeling we might be the hot spot, Adin.” Des looked around the corner of the building to see another fire flare up in a store. “Literally."

  "Estimation of number of outlaws now?"

  "Hard to say. They seem to be everywhere. Raf and Emory reckon they're on all sides of the settlement, and Huxley reports at least ten fighters in the skies."

  "So we're looking at several outlaw groups, you think?"

  "More than likely."

  "And one of them belongs to this Canute,” Simon stated tightly.

  Des touched the communication receiver in her ear. “I caught that name, too."

  "Des, for some reason he wants you alive."

  "How do you know?"

  "I heard someone yell it when you were fighting."

  "I guess that's a good thing, then.” Des raised one brow at Orde. “For me, anyway."

  "'Tis no time for jokes,” Simon growled. “You need to find cover."

  "No, I need to fight,” she replied.

  There was a heartbeat of silence that was heavily laden with unspoken tension, and then she heard a deep sigh. “Be careful, lass."

  "Always.” Des cleared her throat, not really comfortable with everyone hearing the conversation, so she changed it to the familiar and necessary topic. “We're going to keep searching, see if we can spot a ringleader somewhere. Maybe catch us an outlaw or two and torture the bastard until he tells us something."

  "One look at your face and he might tell us straight away,” Orde remarked.

  "Yeah, but I want to torture him for the fun of it.” Des peered around the corner of the building. “We're making a run for it. I'll talk to you later, Adin."

  "I'll let you know when we're closer,” he said.

  The head microphones went silent, and Des looked out into the dark streets. A lot of the lights had been shot out, but the fires at the other end cast a red glow in the sky, and a fair bit of light on the other side of the settlement.

  Keeping to the shadows, they slipped along the alleys. Several times they nearly got spotted by outlaws, but their advantage was in knowing the settlement better than the outlaws did. Loose planks in fences, gaps in walls, doorways with deep overhangs.

  It wasn't long before Adin's voice came through the head microphone, but it wasn't comforting. He started barking orders, and the sound of laser guns firing echoed in the head microphones.

  A flurry of voices shattered the previous silence.

  "Fighters in the air!"

  "Move! Move!"

  "Adin, watch your right!"

  "Coming over!"

  "Got him!"

  "Two moving in from the left!"

  One pursuit craft was destroyed, the pilot killed. Two of the outlaw fighters went down.

  "They're fleeing!” One peacekeeper announced. “Back towards Tyron!"

  "Follow them in,” Adin ordered. “While we've got them on the run!"

  "Be careful,” Simon warned. “'Tis too easy."

  "I know. They're up to something."

  Des had no doubt of it. Watching the skies from the shelter of the alley, she and Orde saw a glimpse of the fighters in the distance, their lights brightly announcing their presence.

  Then she saw it. Above her house lights flared and outlined the black mystery ship. It had been hovering above her home, but now it took off suddenly, veering away into the sky at an incredible speed—and heading right for the fighters.

  "Adin!” she said sharply. “That fast ship is heading for you! Knowing what it did to us, it's going to do the same thing to you. It'll confuse you, make you more vulnerable to the outlaw fighters. You have to pull back!"

  "We're not leaving you, Des!"

  "You'll be dead if you don't!"

  "We're giving it a go, see if some of us can't come down close and at least get a couple of the fighters off our backs."

  "Adin, you don't understand how fast that thing goes!"

  But it was too late. The mystery ship was amongst them already, and Des could only watch as the lights in the sky suddenly seemed to fly out of control, firing at each other, veering away with other lights behind them.

  "That ship is doing what it done to us,” Orde stated. “Confusing them, splitting them up and almost making them crash into each other."

  His words were verified by the flurry of voices on the communication receiver.

  "Adin, get out of there!” Des ordered. “Pull back!"

  An explosion flared, followed by another, and two of the lights fell. Whether they were outlaw or law, she had no idea, until one of each was verified by the peacekeepers.

  "Adin!” she snarled.

  "Listen to her,” Simon finally barked out. “The lass has been in the middle of this already! Move!"

  For once Des was glad of his support, his deep voice grating over the air authoritatively. Whether it was his warning or the effects of the mystery ship, she didn't know, but when some of the lights suddenly spun and flew away on Adin's orders, with others in pursuit, she knew Adin had finally listened.

  The lights vanished in the distance.

  "Looks like we're playing alone again,” Raf remarked behind her.

  Startled, Des spun around, “You idiot! I could have shot you!"

  "Sorry."

  "Did you find anything out?"

  "Yeah. It seems that Gracie's tavern is one of the center points of the activity."

  She frowned. “Really?"

  "Yeah."

  "Did you see her?"

  "No. The top floor is in darkness. I think she's actually away, so I heard earlier this evening."

  "Drumming up new girls for business, no doubt.” Des nodded to him. “All right, if that seems to be one of the main areas of activity, I want to check it out."

  "Be careful,” Simon warned.

  "Stop fretting. It's my job."

  "I know. But I still want you to be careful."

  "Remind me to personally erase the private peacekeepers frequency off your viscomm, trader."

  "Lass, do I need to remind you that you have to be grateful to me for establishing communications?” His laugh was strained, full of worry. “I intend to collect later."

  Des could feel the heat in her cheeks when Raf grinned at her. “What are you grinning at?"

  "Nothing,” Raf said. “Oh, very well. It's just so romantic."

  "And you look so cute with red cheeks,” Orde added.

  "I'd rip your heads off right now if I didn't need you to back me up,” she retorted. “Now come on!"

  Simon said nothing more, but Des had no doubt he was listening and wondering. And worrying. She could only thank the stars that he was too far away to be in danger.

  "Des,” Adin said over the communication receiver. “The outlaw fighters
have abandoned pursuit and are heading back to your settlement. That bloody fast ship is nowhere in sight. I don't know where it's gone."

  Des glanced towards her home, but the ship wasn't there. “I don't know where it is. But meanwhile, we're heading for Gracie's tavern. Raf thinks some of the central activity is coming from there. If we can get in, I might be able to trap the leader, or one of the higher-up outlaws."

  "If this is indeed Canute's mob, you're amongst some of the worst of the outlaws. Utterly ruthless. Take care. While you're doing that, we're regrouping and planning. I'm also contacting any military personnel in the area."

  "Good. We're moving out."

  Stealthily Des, Raf, Orde and Huxley moved along the alleys, only to get spotted halfway to their destination.

  Laser fire sizzled into the boards under their feet, sending them stumbling backwards and into the dubious shelter of the rear of a store.

  "We see you, Demon!” an outlaw shouted. “Come out with your hands up!"

  "Sure,” Des said. “Why not?” And sent a burst of laser fire in the direction of the voice.

  She was rewarded by a cry of pain.

  A man laughed mockingly. “You dumb bastard! Yell and run, don't wait for her to pinpoint your position!"

  Almost immediately Orde and Huxley fired in the direction of the second voice, but only mocking laughter, further back, greeted them.

  A hail of laser fire behind them had the peacekeepers scrambling to the side.

  "Hells bells!” Raf yelped when a laser blast seared through a flap of his coat.

  Another hail of laser fire pinned them down from the front, joining the hail from the back.

  "Shit,” Huxley swore. “We're trapped!"

  Glancing around, Des saw the door of the store rear entrance, and taking aim at the lock, she blew it apart. “Move it!” The door hadn't stopped swinging in before she was on her feet and running.

  Laughter sounded again, followed by more laser fire, and the peacekeepers practically fell onto each other as they hurtled through the door into the safety of the store.

  Shoving Raf off her, Des kicked at the door, slamming it back against the frame, but with the lock broken it started to swing back in again.

  Orde shoved a crate against it to keep it shut.

  The sound of breaking glass at the front had Des looking around alertly. “Bastards are coming in the front! We can pick them off—"