The High Chancellor pulled a device from his pocket and zapped Beauregard, causing her to dissolve into a puddle. He casually walked to the desk and found a container that looked to be for hot beverages. He put it in the middle of the puddle and pressed a button on its side, and it sucked Malagor Beauregard in. He flipped the lid closed and looked at Grainger, who was staring at his arm.
“What just happened?” he asked. No residue remained on his arm, but it continued to tingle.
“The Parmecium are like blowfish. They aren’t very big but expand to seem more intimidating. A small electric shock renders them harmless. I built this myself from a child’s toy.” He shook his small device, showing two bare wires sticking out. “And they always have their travel container nearby. Shall we?”
Grainger followed Wyatt’s gesture and started to walk out. “You could have told me, High Chancellor.”
“After my earlier missteps, I needed to do something to regain my mystique.”
“If she’s so weak, why is she mixed up in the slave trade?” Grainger looked from the bored clerk to the High Chancellor.
“She’s not weak. She’s vulnerable. There’s a difference,” Wyatt explained. “If we hadn’t known, then we would not have been able to stop her.”
“I understand,” Grainger conceded. “What do you think she’ll tell us?”
“That is a good question. I hope we get an answer to it.”
Christina Lowell watched from within her mechanized combat armor. A dozen similarly outfitted warriors stood in three ranks of four before the open door to War Axe’s hangar bay.
Terry Henry and Char wore their ballistic vests and helmets, but they weren’t heading into space like Christina and her team.
“When I give the order to push off, we are going to maneuver through space to the enemy cruiser. We will breach at three points, as shown on your heads up displays, where we will install the gas canisters to knock out the crew. Once confirmed, we will leave our suits in the airlocks. The Skaines are a smaller race, with ships that won’t support the bulk of these beasts. So we go in lean and trim. Rules of engagement dictate that we give them a chance to surrender, but if they fire, you are authorized to use deadly force. We will neutralize all Skaines and secure the ship for impound. Questions?”
No one had any. Each fireteam of four took one massive silver cylinder and pushed through the forcefield, activating their jets to launch into space. The Skaine cruiser drifted in the distance. Christina saluted Colonel Walton, who returned her gesture with the crisp Marine Corps salute of old.
She snarled, and her eyes took on the pale yellow of the Pricolici within. She ran toward the barrier and threw herself into space. Her jets activated once outside, and she raced to get in front of her squad.
With the cruiser team out of the way, the War Axe maneuvered to bring the Skaine cutter, the smaller of the two ships, into the hangar bay. Armed and ready Bad Company warriors lined the sides of the space. TH dialed his Jean Dukes Special back to two. Char let her hands caress her two pistols, her constant companions all these years. They were cleaned, loaded, and ready for close combat.
“Same ROE,” Terry bellowed in the great space of the hangar. He and Char hurried to the bulkhead and grabbed on as the War Axe approached the cutter nose on. The destroyer would wrap itself around the Skaine ship and let it set gently to the deck. Once he had verified that the warriors were hanging on, Terry gave the order. “Smedley, you can remove the gravity and bring her in.”
The Bad Company became weightless as the War Axe moved forward. A sharp nose appeared through the forcefield, and the rest of the ship followed.
“Think she’ll notice the scorch mark?” Char asked, biting her lip.
“Nah! You can barely see it. That’s a nice-looking ship. Did they say why the Magistrate needed a bigger ship?”
From the nose to the tail on this side of the ship, an ugly black streak raged. Some of the hull’s metal had started to peel back. It was difficult to tell the ship’s original color.
“I think I heard the name ‘Ankh,’” Char answered.
“She’s going to need a bigger crew, too. I heard Micky talking to some people. “Are you ready, my lover?”
“Always.”
The gravity was slowly restored, settling the cutter onto the deck. It canted slightly since it sat on its superstructure. The Skaines hadn’t extended the landing gear.
“They want it the hard way, people. Let’s give them what they asked for. Canisters up!”
One pair from each side hustled forward, rolling a canister between them. When they reached the hull, they took a number of quick soundings before finding their spots. They attached the hoses to spear-looking projectiles and fired them to create a breach to the interior. After they pressed one button, the gas started to flow, being forced through the opening at such high pressure that anyone attempting to hold it back could lose an arm. It also flooded the interior that much more quickly.
“Hoods!” he called, and they pulled their built-in helmets over their heads. Their shipsuits would be their environmental protection until the ship’s air could be flushed. The teams moved into place, with Terry and Char closest to the hatch. “Open it up, Smedley.”
The warship’s AI responded by popping the airlock seal. Gas visibly escaped as the hatch unlocked and slowly disappeared sideways into the hull. Terry ducked his head for a quick look, pulling himself back out before anyone could aim and fire. He reached around the opening and jammed a button.
After the interior airlock door opened, TH counted down from three to zero on his fingers. When he hit one, he tensed, crouched, and bolted through the hatch on the next count. Char was right behind him as he dove through the interior hatch, but before she could reach it, laser beams cut back and forth across the space the colonel had just gone through.
Char pulled out a grenade and flung it through the opening, making it bounce down the corridor. TH did the same from his prone position in a small alcove. Char readied a second grenade and threw it after Terry’s, but with much more force. He launched himself like a torpedo back into the airlock, clearing the corridor as Char’s first grenade exploded, then his and her second. He was on his feet and running while the smoke was still heavy in the air.
He went right, and Char went left, and the warriors filed in behind them. The JDS barked again and again as TH single-handedly assaulted the corridor’s defenders. He backed up and chucked another grenade.
Toward the front of the ship, Char fired her pistol, the old-style cartridge explosions echoing through the corridor. For a single moment, the attack went quiet. For a whole second, there was peace.
Then the grenade exploded.
Chapter Nineteen
Amberly on Corran
Rivka hammered on the window as the aerovan descended at an agonizingly slow pace. Seequa Holmes was surrounded by Corranites. She swung a branch back and forth to hold them off.
“Violating the carefully manicured foliage is a crime in this city,” Palatius intoned.
“Of course, it is. Your single greatest priority is getting me down there before she hurts anyone. What is the penalty for threatening someone? Culpability is on both sides.” Rivka stood in the space between the seats, preparing herself in case she needed to kick her escort in the face. With a short word, the vehicle lurched and dropped the rest of the way to the ground. Rivka’s reflexes kicked in and she maintained her balance. “Thank you.”
She popped the door and ran into the group, bumping the locals out of the way to stop before the human. “Come with me. I’m taking you home.”
“Took you long enough, bitch!” Seequa roared.
Rivka glared at the Corranites until Palatius Lore appeared. One look at him, and they made themselves scarce.
Rivka turned back to the woman. “It couldn’t be avoided. There’s a lot going on out there to impede progress. You’re a survivor, Seequa, and you’ve made it. Now it’s time to go home. I don’t know if this
will make you feel better, but of the group that kidnapped you, two are dead, and the other two are on their way to Jhiordaan. It also cracked the case to help us find the leaders and other cells. Thanks to you, we’re tearing the heart out of this operation.”
Seequa looked confused as she tried to parse what the Magistrate was telling her. She lifted the branch and threatened Palatius. Rivka stepped between them.
“Put it down and let’s go home.”
“That is a crime,” Palatius said slowly.
“So is orchestrating a coup,” Rivka shot back. “How about you fuck yourself?”
“Yeah!” Seequa jutted her chest and chin in his direction. “Go fuck yourself, you fucking piece-of-shit asshole!”
Rivka grabbed the woman to keep her from losing control.
“Don’t talk to us,” Rivka told their escort as she guided the woman toward the aerovan. Palatius followed, anger steaming from his fibrous pores.
The Skaine cutter on board the War Axe
“Come out with your hands up!” Terry called into the last occupied space on the cutter.
The Skaines didn’t bother to reply.
“You’re only going to die,” Terry suggested. He looked at the remaining grenade on his belt, but it was the engine compartment. He had to be more precise in his targeting. He turned to the team. “Two high, two low. I’ll take center. Hit your targets. No collateral damage. This thing needs to fly after we’re done with it.”
Terry checked his JDS to make sure it was still set on two, then looked at it for a moment and dialed it back to one. He counted down on his fingers, and when he finished, he charged into the engine room, snap-firing at one target before rolling. The other four were through the door in the space of a heartbeat, firing at the distracted Skaines, who now had more targets than they could engage.
Char leaned around the doorframe, picked a target amid the chaos, and ended him. Then a second one. TH low-crawled toward a coolant pump. The firing stopped, and the team to the left yelled, ‘Clear.’ The team to the right did the same. Char walked into the middle of the space, aiming steadily over her husband.
He reached the complex tangle of pump and pipes, poked his JDS in between, and pulled the trigger. The top of a Skaine head appeared as the creature tried to jump out of the way. Char fired.
The body slumped to the deck, evidence of Char’s accuracy painted across the tank behind where he stood.
Terry stood and brushed himself off. “Nice shot,” he told her with a smile. Terry held a finger to his head as he communed with all parties inside the cutter before reporting, “The ship is secure, and we took no injuries.”
“You don’t need to do that,” Char said, pointing to the finger alongside his temple.
“I really do,” he replied before quickly taking his hand away.
“No injuries?” Char pointed to his shoulder, where a laser had struck. The bleeding had already stopped.
“Just a flesh wound,” he countered.
“You don’t have to go first.” She pulled his uniform jacket away to examine the injury and nodded once, comfortable that it wasn’t worse than he was admitting.
“I can’t order people to do something I wouldn’t.”
“They all know you would, because you have. For decades, you have. As the Bad Company takes on greater roles, we need more like you, not more from you.”
“How did I marry so well?” he said, but his face was serious. He had been contemplating that very thing, but preferred the individual actions like clearing the ship over the strategic actions of building a fleet from the Harborian vessels, crewing them, and conducting interdictions across the galaxy. That was making him feel old.
“Because I settled for what was available in a sparse world.” Char’s purple eyes sparkled as she needled her partner.
“We tried to retire once, and it bored the snot out of us.” Terry stood close to her and reached out, but winced when he flexed his shoulder. He started rotating it gently to keep it limber.
“It bored the snot out of you.”
“It did. I’m not ready for round two, but maybe it’s time for I & I duty.”
“’I and I?’” Char hadn’t heard the expression before.
“It’s from the Marines. Inspector Instructor. Active-duty Marines check on the reserves to make sure they are doing what they need to remain prepared in case they’re called up.”
“Yes. You should try that. We should do that.” She pointed to his shoulder. “That could have been your head.”
“With the size of this melon, you’re not kidding!” Terry quipped, wrapping his good arm around Char’s waist. “We better get this ship cleaned up before turning it over to the legal beagles.” Terry hesitated. “I wonder why the gas didn’t work? As in, I wonder how Christina is faring?”
His finger returned to his temple as he made to contact her.
The gas didn’t work? Christina asked since her teams had breached and had the canisters in place but were not yet pumping their knock-out gas into the interior of the Skaine cruiser.
They were ready for us. I wonder if we let it linger long enough. We pumped the gas in and hit the hatch about twenty seconds later.
We’ll give it five minutes. It’s supposed to leave them unconscious for a good hour. I don’t have enough firepower to take down a cruiser. If we fit in the corridor in our suits, it’d be no problem, but we don’t. Thirteen of us, and roughly a hundred of them? I can’t risk it, Terry.
I concur, Terry told her. Don’t risk your people. These bastards tried to put up a good fight, but we only had to contend with a quarter of your number.
Roger. Will advise. She closed the link and switched to the suit to suit comm. “Listen up, people. We deliver the gas, wait five minutes, and then hit them hard. First team, hard-breach the hold, and Teams Two and Three, override the airlocks and enter. Don’t de-suit until we’re sure they’re out cold.”
“We won’t fit through the airlock in our suits,” Private Gefelton remarked from Team Two.
“Team one will be our eyes and ears. Be ready to access the airlocks on my command. Give them a breath of fresh air, courtesy of the Bad Company. Execute.”
A chorus of “Aye, aye, ma’am,” confirmed her order. She watched Team Two open the valve and start pumping the gas into the Skaine ship.
“Countdown of five minutes, please,” she told her HUD. A timer displayed and started the glacially slow march of watched time.
Amberly on Corran
Seequa nearly collapsed into the seat inside the aerovan. Rivka hovered protectively over her, making sure her body acted as a barrier between the woman and the Corranite.
Palatius took his seat and issued the commands for the aerovan to take them to Peacekeeper. Rivka didn’t argue. The vehicle shifted, and she almost fell. She glared at Palatius Lore as if he’d done it on purpose. The aerovan bumped again and she stumbled, purposefully falling onto the Corranite.
“When’s the coup?” she asked, her face a mere hand’s breadth from his. Flashes of violence. Pure raging hatred. The governor-general in a pool of his own blood.
With Rivka right next to him, his thoughts calmed as quickly as they raged.
“I think it best you leave Corran as soon as possible. I will clear the airspace for you to leave the second you are back on board.”
“I appreciate that. Thanks for your help. I hope this is the last time I am ever on Corran,” she lied smoothly.
I’ll be back, and I’m bringing the pain.
She turned to Seequa, who stared out the window with unseeing eyes.
“We’ll get you some good food and a place to rest. We have a doctor on board who will check you out to make sure they didn’t give you some crazy disease. You will be taken care of to the best of the Federation’s ability.
Looking beyond tired, the woman broke free from staring and glanced up at Rivka. “Thank you,” she muttered. After laying a gentle hand on Seequa’s shoulder, Rivka was nearly br
ought to tears by the sincerity of the woman’s gratitude. She had suffered greatly at the hands of the Corranites, having been treated as no human should.
Rivka clenched her jaw and remained silent, hoping she’d be able to bring down the Corran slave trade so she would never have to deal with such a crime again.
We’re on our way in. Prepare for immediate departure.
But there would be. Maybe it wouldn’t be on Corran, but where there were sentient species, there would be those who exploited them. Like the Skaines.
She was even more impatient to return to her ship to get Seequa the help she needed and find out how the others were faring in their takedowns of the cells.
The aerovan’s door started to open before it touched down and Rivka helped Seequa Holmes out, keeping her hands on the young woman to make sure she didn’t attack Palatius in one last act of defiance. The ship was close, a few steps, and she only had eyes for the opening hatch. Together they climbed the steps, and without a backward look, they entered and secured the ship. The crew clapped and cheered, and Tyler Toofakre helped her to a seat and started checking her vitals.
“Get her a good meal,” Rivka ordered. Red held his hands up in surrender. “Meal bar?”
“On its way,” Ankh said through the speakers.
Jay pulled a glass of water and handed it to the woman. “Welcome back.”
Floyd stood on her back legs and shoved her head under Seequa’s hand. She recoiled at the intrusion, but Floyd persisted.
“Who are you?” Seequa asked.
“Her name is Floyd,” Jay offered once she realized that the young woman couldn’t hear the wombat.
“Well, hello, Floyd. Are you the official greeter?” The transformation from the exhausted creature who had boarded the ship moments before to now was remarkable. Her brown eyes started to sparkle and she held out her glass.
Jay refilled it quickly.
Slave Trade Page 17
