Klavin lost consciousness with the last word.
“I need heat!” Tyler demanded. Red tossed him a micro-welder before returning to his examination of the dead bodies, remaining close to the Magistrate. Her security was his paramount concern. His eyes kept shifting toward the doorway leading to the back exit. He could hear Lindy growling at someone, followed by the hollow-melon sound of a fist punching someone in the side of the head.
Tyler pulled his pocket knife and used the blue tip of the flame to superheat the blade, then touched it across the wound, burning the flesh together while turning the blood into black coagulated ash. He heated the blade again, burning off the blood and skin before applying it to the wound a second time.
He wiped the blade on his own pants when it was cool enough, then sat back and hoped the emergency medical team would arrive quickly.
“Get in there!” Lindy snarled. A body hit the floor, and a Yollin’s head slid through the opening. Red grabbed the suspect by his mandible and dragged him into the main room. He drove a knee into the middle of the Yollin’s back and held his wrists together, pushing them toward the alien’s head. The Yollin screamed.
“Shut up!”
Lindy jammed the other one face-first into the wall. “I can’t wait for you to talk to these two. They had a lot to say about how weak and worthless humans are.”
Jay worked her way toward the dentist, trying not to look at the carnage.
“Who do you report to?” Rivka asked, returning her focus to the matter at hand. Images of Corranites. And another alien race. “Skaines.”
She couldn’t see his face because it was jammed into the floor. She expected he would start to flail as the truth was revealed.
But he didn’t. “You have nothing on me because I didn’t do anything wrong.”
“Do you know Seequa Holmes, a dark-skinned human?” Rivka asked.
“I don’t know any humans. Your race is too violent.” He chuckled even with his face pressed into the short pile of the carpet. In his mind, the woman’s face was clear. She was unconscious in all his memories. The Yollins were there. And some Skaines.
“Hey, Doc. Can you hold this one down for me? I need to talk to our hard-shelled friends.”
Tyler studied his charge one last time; Klavin was still breathing. “Let me know if anything changes.”
Jay nodded and took the dentist’s place when he stood.
“Hold his wrists and keep pushing up while keeping your weight over your knee and pressed into the middle of his back. Don’t let him get any leverage,” Rivka instructed, letting Tyler take the perp’s wrists. He straddled the Auroran, pushing hard on his back shell while keeping a tight grip on his wrists.
Rivka tipped her chin toward Red to keep his eye on the doc and Ch’ta’ka.
“Okay, buddy, I have a few questions.”
“I’m saying nothing. I want my barrister!”
“You want your two dollars, I know. Just shut up. Stop clacking your mandibles, too. They’re pissing me off.” She leaned close and whispered, “What is your relationship to the High Chancellor?”
Images of a gathering where the High Chancellor was being introduced to a conglomeration of aliens. She didn’t see any victims. The Yollin only wanted his picture taken with the human authority. He was obliged, and carried the image in his datapad.
“Where is your datapad?” she asked.
He started to panic. Images and thoughts flooded his undisciplined mind.
“She can read your mind, you idiots! Think about sex,” Ch’ta’ka grumbled as loudly as he could. The words came out muffled, but the Yollins were too vulnerable. They could think of nothing besides what she planted in their minds.
Rivka took hold of the second one. “What do you know of Seequa Holmes?” He had carried her into the shuttle and given her an additional injection to keep her unconscious. “Who gives you your orders?”
She took hold of the first Yollin. He was thinking the same as the other.
“Ch’ta’ka. You are a trafficker and a slave trader. You are guilty as sin. There is only one sentence for your crimes. You have been judged.”
She put Reaper against the side of his head. “You won’t feel a thing, unfortunately, unlike your victims.
“Wait!” he cried.
“The famous last words of every scumbag when they realize that their days of crime are over.”
“I’ll tell you what you want to know,” he pleaded.
“You already have. Where are the Skaines?” she asked quickly.
He clamped his mind down and started thinking repulsive thoughts. She punched him in the head with her free hand.
“The only leverage you have,” she started, speaking softly, “is to tell me what you know. If you aren’t going to tell me, you will be dead one minute from now. If you tell me, you will be alive, and I will consider commuting your sentence to life in solitary confinement on Jhiordaan.”
He started to relent but was torn. The conflict within his mind was great. He was used to being in charge, so he couldn’t fathom his current circumstance.
“Where. Are. The Skaines?” she whispered harshly.
He sighed and gave her the images that she was looking for. They were based out of Mecca but had gone ahead to Corran to arrange the newest contributions for the auction block.
A team of Fenek wearing white squeezed through the twisted wreckage of the doorway and placed a hover-stretcher next to Klavin. They carefully moved him. The first Fenek attended to the officer while the second hesitated when he saw the bodies.
“They’re all dead,” Red explained, pointing to what was left of the bodies. Point-blank railgun engagements tended to be messy. Red pointed to Ch’ta’ka and the two Yollins. “And these three are in custody.” Red stood to his full height, the railgun called Blazer balanced easily across his forearms. Lindy stood behind him, holding the Yollin in her charge by the zip ties she’d snapped around his wrists.
The attendant mumbled something and started to leave. He stopped once through the doorway. “Whoever scorched the wound probably saved his life.”
“Chalk another one up for the doc,” Red said. A team of officers entered as soon as the emergency services pair had left.
Rivka pointed with one hand while holding her datapad below her chin. “Please detain these three for surrender to Federation custody and transfer to Jhiordaan. They’ve all been found guilty of violating Federation Law, Title 4, Section 1, Sub-section 31—Trafficking in Sentient species. They’ve also been found guilty of other crimes like battery under this section, but also Title 5, Section 1, Crimes of Intent—Conspiracy. They are extremely violent, and are to be shackled at all times.”
Rivka recited the order for Chaz to request a pickup team with a prison shuttle. The pad flashed green to show that it had been transmitted. She shoved it back in her pocket.
“Ladies and gentlemen, our work here is finished. We need to be on our way to Corran.” They watched the officers secure the three. The Yollins snarled and snapped, but the Auroran assumed a look of tranquility. Rivka jumped at him, throwing a wild punch toward the side of his head, but he was already slipping down. The Fenek officer eased him to the ground.
He checked for a pulse. “He’s...dead,” he said, unsure of his own words.
“Committed suicide rather than be incarcerated. It appears to be the slavers’ way,” Rivka remarked emotionlessly. The officer looked confused. “Even though he wanted to live, in his mind. I guess the power of the Skaines compelled him.”
“Don’t let these two out of your sight,” Rivka motioned indiscriminately toward the Yollins. She wondered if they were too low on the chain to have been implanted with the suicide solution. In the end, it didn’t matter. She’d issued their death sentence. Whether it happened now or later, their days in the slave trade were over.
She puffed out her cheeks as she contemplated the team’s next steps.
“This was only one cell. There are more operat
ing out of Mecca, a place of business, culture, and recreation. And a place where you can be kidnapped and sold into slavery,” she intoned as if narrating a documentary.
“What can we do about that?” Jay asked.
“Hold up,” Rivka directed of the officers removing the two Yollins. One looked more belligerent than the other, although neither was pleased with getting caught. “Who do you work with here in Mecca?”
Images, locations, aliens, Fenek. She couldn’t tell from the jumbled thoughts who was involved in the seedy underworld and who was active in their day-to-day lives.
“What other Yollins are slavers? Where are the Skaines located in Mecca? Are there other Aurorans involved?”
Rivka smiled. Better questions yield better answers. She tapped furiously on her datapad. “Chaz, forward that to the commissioner, please. Those are the addresses of their conspirators. To cut the heart out of this ring, raid those places and seize everyone they can find. Leave the Skaines to us. We’ll take them into custody on Corran.”
Red and Lindy gave her their thumbs-ups. The dentist brushed himself off and nodded. He was ready to go. Jay was already waiting at the door.
“It’s time I don my barrister’s robes and storm the Corran court on Ms. Holmes’ behalf.”
“You have robes? Is that like a cloak?” the dentist asked.
“No.” Rivka shook her head. “It’s a figure of speech.”
“Do you have a wig?” he pressed.
“No wig.”
“No trappings of power?”
She pointed to her Magistrates’ jacket.
“The perps usually see that right before they get their asses kicked,” Red interjected.
Tyler looked disappointed.
“Fine. I’ll wear my formal attire to attend the court, but if we have to fight our way out, I shall be quite upset.”
“Because it’s a mission...” Red said slowly.
“Case!”
“He has a point,” the dentist suggested. “If I had to fight my way out of appointments, I would have to call them something else. Maybe missions.”
“And here I thought we were too busy to waste time on no-value-added endeavors.” The team walked quickly through the corridors of the building on their way to Peacekeeper. Red watched for threats, but the presence of law enforcement had chased the locals into their homes. No one walked casually about now.
“I wonder if the commissioner and his people found anything on their raid,” Jay asked.
“That’s a good question, Jay.” Rivka nodded toward the young woman, her flaming red hair taking on a life of its own in response to her movements. The Magistrate gazed pointedly at Red and Tyler. Her bodyguard shrugged one shoulder, unintimidated by the look. “I’ll send a note when we’re on the ship and request an update on Klavin.”
They continued to the corvette without incident, and after they boarded, Chaz took the ship out.
“Next stop, Corran,” Rivka told the crew. “Seequa, we’re coming to get you out.”
Chapter Fifteen
The Royal City of Khn’Chik on Yoll
“How do we fix this?” Grainger asked.
“We have at least five major initiatives ongoing simultaneously. First and foremost is Lance Reynolds’ negotiations to bring Corran into the Federation. Next is an undercover operation by one of our freelance teams known as the Shadow Vanguard. There’s Rivka, and then there are some localized operations. These are all coming together. I had to bide my time and hope that my failure didn’t see the light of day until we could wrap the noose around the necks of those who deserve it.” High Chancellor Wyatt glanced at the Magistrate before turning back to the window and watching the world go by.
“How do we fix this?” Grainger repeated. “Are these operations going to roll up the organization from top to bottom, cleaning up the tendrils in between?”
“Call Rivka,” Wyatt directed. Grainger pulled out his datapad, but the High Chancellor waved for him to put it away.
“Yes, High Chancellor. I am connecting you now,” a disembodied voice said. Wyatt turned his monitor around and took the seat next to Grainger.
“They are just returning now from their engagement in Mecca. Don’t tell the Magistrate this,” the AI said in a low and conspiratorial voice, “but I believe it was a resounding success. If you’ll standby, please, I’ll connect you.”
“We surrender our secrets to our AIs,” Grainger said.
“Success shouldn’t be kept secret. Thanks for sharing, Chaz,” Wyatt remarked.
“What did Chaz share?” Rivka asked before her face appeared on the screen.
“That your work on Mecca was successful.”
“Yes, that. We didn’t get shot or killed. Well, we did get shot, but the body armor protected us.” Rivka said carefully, guarding her words. She was unsure of the High Chancellor, and that bothered her more than anything.
A voice off-screen added, “Tell him about the running.”
“I’m not telling him about the running.” She turned to face the voice and gave the international signal for cut.
“I feel like we should hear about the running,” Grainger suggested.
“Oh, hey! Didn’t see you there, Leibchen.” Rivka frowned.
“Zombie.”
“We don’t have much time,” the High Chancellor interrupted. “Grainger and I have talked about my appearance in this investigation. I have to apologize to you, Magistrate Anoa, for not making you aware of my unsuccessful attempt to penetrate this organization.”
“Your explanation is good enough, High Chancellor. I don’t need an apology. I only need guidance on how we can fix it.”
“You sound like Grainger.” Wyatt smiled.
“I’m not sure if that’s supposed to be a compliment.” Rivka felt the weight lifted from her soul.
Grainger tried to pout but couldn’t.
“Ankh? Can you find those pictures and remove them?” Rivka asked.
“Of course,” the Crenellian replied, popping into half the screen.
“What about the Skaines?” Rivka wondered.
“Our long-lost cousins,” Ankh said with uncharacteristic emotion. “They are the galaxy’s villains. If you find a crime syndicate and dig deep enough, the dregs will reveal the footprints of Skaines. Yes. I am tracking them, but they have generations of experience in how to violate the law. They do not make it easy, but the Federation makes it possible to keep them under surveillance.”
“Is it one group?” Wyatt stared at the Crenellian’s face, which was still taking up half the screen.
“Yes,” Ankh replied with confidence.
“How many members in the group?”
Ankh’s eyes unfocused as he carried on a short conversation with the AI that lived in his head. “Erasmus says that we are looking for eight hundred and seventeen Skaines.”
“I had hoped the number would be smaller,” Grainger complained.
“Eight hundred of that number are on five Skaine vessels. The Bad Company’s conflict resolution branch is tracking them at present.”
“Terry Henry,” Wyatt said. “In that case, we have seventeen scumbags who need to be collected. Do you know where they are?”
“Four are on Yoll.”
The High Chancellor’s eyes turned cold.
“Where?”
“Inconclusive,” Ankh replied. “I’m transmitting what I have to you and Grainger.”
“The other thirteen?” Rivka asked.
“Four right here in Mecca, and nine between Fenek Eudoxius and Corran.”
“Is four the number that runs a cell?” Grainger asked.
“Yes. That is a complete cell. For criminals, the Skaines are well organized.”
Wyatt raised one eyebrow.
“Magistrate Rivka Anoa,” the High Chancellor said as if addressing the court. “I am pleased beyond measure that our paths crossed and you have joined us. We are challenged by something greater than any of us, but we contribute indivi
dually. It is thankless, and we are attacked. Today alone, your people have been shot at, and I hear there was running.”
He snickered softly. Rivka glared at someone off-screen and flinched when a wombat flew into her lap. She petted Floyd’s head and scratched behind her ears before turning her attention back to the screen.
“I can give you nothing except my thanks. There are no promotions. There are no benefits beyond what you already have. Peacekeeping in the galaxy is its own reward, as hollow as those words are. Never lose sight of what you are doing for those who will never know and can never appreciate the pain you’ve suffered on their behalf.”
A tear formed and fell from the corner of Rivka’s eye. Floyd nuzzled her vigorously.
“I don’t know what to say.”
“Keep on keeping on,” Wyatt suggested.
“We could use a bigger ship,” Red said from off-screen.
“Vered. Thanks for keeping the Magistrate safe,” the High Chancellor replied.
“She doesn’t make it easy, High Chancellor.”
“I suspect she doesn’t. We have impounded a couple ships, but if TH and the War Axe are successful, a Skaine cutter could be yours. I’ll send him a note and inform Nathan Lowell. We’ll see what we can do. Bad Company has a significant fleet of warships. They may be able to break one of their Harborian vessels free. In either case, we will get you a bigger ship. Are you adding more crew?”
“Ankh has locked me out of my own bridge. Hamlet is wreaking havoc, and my deck is still covered with blood since the cleaning bots can’t get access because there are always people in here. I have a suit of powered combat armor lashed to the outside of the ship because there’s no room in the hold.”
“Sorry. I thought you had a real need for a bigger ship.” Wyatt waited to see if he got a rise.
“Now you sound like Grainger,” Rivka replied evenly.
“I’ll see what I can do, Magistrate. Give General Reynolds a call, and make sure you dovetail with his negotiations. Bringing Corran into the Federation will be the catalyst that will send the rats scrambling to find a new trade. When they’re in the open, we’ll crush them.”
Slave Trade Page 14
