Bloodlines

by Richard Fox

  He pulled the panel back, revealing one of the meter-wide maintenance tunnels that ran through Valiant’s interior hull. Elias slid through, immediately crawling to the side, making room for them.

  “You’re next,” Popov said, putting a hand on his shoulder.

  “Son of a bitch,” Jerry said through gritted teeth.

  He dropped to his knees and crawled through the hatch. The tunnel floor was a metal grating, the walls and ceiling were a collection of conduits, bundles of cables and wires and bare sections of Valiant’s frame. Recessed lighting in the floor and ceiling provided some light, but it wasn’t much.

  Popov climbed in behind them and pulled the panel closed. Elias told her how to lock it, then flipped down a small flap on another panel on the side of the tunnel. “I might be able to patch into the…” He trailed off, fingers tapping on the small terminal. “…there.”

  Jerry craned his neck and saw several video panels open up on the screen, all showing different sections of Valiant’s interior. The pirates had already taken the bay. Three of the masked attackers were securing the crew’s hands behind their backs in the middle of the bay, by the rover. On another screen, three more attackers had reached the cockpit and were slamming fists into the hatch.

  “They can’t get in?” Elias asked.

  Popov scooted closer to the panel, looking over Jerry’s shoulder. “For now, but I doubt that hatch will hold them back for—”

  On the screen, one of the pirates had some kind of electronic device attached to the security panel next to the cockpit’s hatch, tapping keys. A second later, the hatch popped open, and his companions shouldered their way through.

  Almost immediately, one jerked back, twisting and falling back through the hatch, grabbing his shoulder. The other two stepped over him, charging in. They disappeared from the feed for several minutes, and the only thing they could see was the lone pirate, pushing himself up into a seated position, grimacing in pain at his shoulder wound. Finally, someone appeared at the hatch.

  “Oh, no,” Elias said.

  One of the pirates gave Greer a hard shove, pushing her through the hatch, into the bulkhead opposite. Her hands were bound behind her back, blood streaming down the side of her face from a wound concealed by her thick hair.

  Lincoln came next, escorted by the second pirate, who paused briefly to speak with his wounded companion, then continued on to the bay where they gathered the rest of the prisoners next to the rover.

  “Can you pick up any audio?” Popov asked.

  Elias tapped on the screen. “I’m not sure. Hold on. Yeah, here.”

  “…and no one will get hurt,” one of the pirates was saying. “You all are valuable, yes? Your leaders will pay much for your return. Is only proper way.”

  Greer spat on the deck at the alien’s feet. “You’re not going to get any ransom for us.”

  The alien squatted down in front of Greer, arms clasped behind his back. “No, no, no, I’m hoping you are incorrect, yes? Is Pindiki way.”

  “I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”

  “Maybe the Zeis, yes? They are your cousins? Yes, yes, yes, they pay for you, Abendu is sure of that.”

  Jerry frowned. “They’re kidnapping us?”

  Abendu stood, holding his arms out to either side. “And this ship? She is worth much, yes? Maybe, Abendu is keeping for himself?”

  One of the other pirates turned to Abendu. “Raamin said—”

  “Yes, yes, yes,” Abendu said, waving a dismissive hand at the pirate. “Raamin say many things. Take Klaka and search rest of ship.” He turned to Greer. “Is all your crew, yes?”

  Greer stared at the alien for several seconds, eyes filled with hatred. “Yes.”

  Abendu clapped his hands together. “Ah, good. Yes, yes, yes. We search.”

  Klaka slapped the chest of the pirate standing next to him and motioned for him to follow.

  “What are we going to do?” Elias asked, turning away from the feed.

  Popov was silent for a moment, considering the panel. “We’re going to stay out of sight.”

  “We can’t just sit back and do nothing,” Jerry said. “We’re Pathfinders; we have to help them.”

  “No, I’m a Pathfinder,” Popov told him. “You’re just a kid in the wrong place at the wrong time. You’re going to do what I tell you to do, and you’re going to do it without arguing. We are going to stay hidden as long as we can and wait for an opening. Once those bastards get settled in and relax, we’ll make them pay for ever stepping aboard the Valiant.”

  They watched as the aliens combed over the rest of the ship and removed the restraining bolt from Valiant’s hull. It took five minutes of beating the crew to convince Greer to show them how to fly the ship, and ten minutes later, they were in the air.

  ****

  “That son of a bitch!” Carson shouted, resisting the urge to stomp her boot into the tarmac.

  The Valiant was gone. The only thing still on the landing pad was the restraining droid the envoy had attached when they’d first arrived.

  Nunez let go of Moretti and limped forward. “First that bastard tries to have us killed, then he steals our ship. I ever see that little shit again, I’ll kill him.”

  “Not if I get to him first,” West said.

  Think, Carson told herself. The situation was unraveling quickly, she needed to regain some element of control before it spiraled completely out of control. “Options, people. We need to track Abendu down before he gets off planet if he hasn’t already.”

  Carson turned to the Zeis. “You’re from here. Any thoughts?”

  “Pindiki snake,” Jena said, spitting. “If he doesn’t want to be found, he won’t be. He’s been hiding from our retribution squads for years.”

  “I know right where to start,” West said. “And if we hurry, we might be able to kill two birds with one stone.”

  “Lead the way,” Carson said.

  West led the team and three Zeis back through the bazaar, pausing every so often to get his bearings. Fifteen minutes later, they were hunkered at the entrance to the alley, trying to catch their breath. The Zeis, despite their apparent lack of training, had managed to keep up surprisingly well.

  Carson was just behind West at the front of the stack, with Moretti and Nunez behind her, and Birch bringing up the rear. The three Zeis companions stood behind the Pathfinders. After hearing what West had said about the Zeis women, the companions were eager to help.

  Carson shot Nunez a questioning glance. “You sure you’re okay?”

  “A few broken ribs never hurt anyone,” Nunez said, though the grimace on his face told a different story. He patted Moretti on the shoulder. “Besides, the pain killers he gave me are starting to kick in.”

  “Birch, you ready?” West asked, peering around the corner. “Still only one door guard.”

  The mini-propellers on Birch’s gremlin drone flipped down and whirred to life. It hovered just over his palm as he checked the readings on his wrist computer. “Ready.”

  Carson checked her gauss carbine’s optics, confirming a full 75 round magazines was loaded and ready to fire. “Standard clearing,” she said. “Don’t get any stupid ideas or try to be a hero. Remember, we need information. Dead men tell no tales, right? Right.” She gave Birch the go-ahead nod.

  The drone zipped off Birch’s hand and disappeared around the corner, into the alley. The team waited silently and a moment later heard an abrupt, painful cry, and a second later the thump of a body hitting the concrete.

  “Go,” Carson said.

  They filed around the corner, making straight for the entrance to Raamin’s shop. West rushed ahead, reaching the unconscious guard and quickly pulled him out of the way as the rest of the team advanced.

  Without pausing, Carson lunged forward, slamming a boot into the door. The door snapped open with a loud crack, flying back and crashing into the wall behind. Carson sidestepped to allow Moretti and Nunez through. Having
prior knowledge of the layout put them in a superior position to make the initial entry.

  Carson fell into line behind them, stepping into a dark hallway, lined with closed doors. Moretti and Nunez ignored the doors, continuing down the hall, where it emptied out into a large square living area.

  Moretti cut left, Nunez took right, both yelling for everyone to get down on the ground and get their hands in the air. Carson moved straight out of the hall, pulling down a sheer curtain off its rings, exposing a lowered area filled with plush couches and pillows. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Nunez ushering some Zeis woman toward him, telling them to keep low.

  Across the room, Moretti yelled for two more guards to drop their weapons.

  The alien she presumed to be Raamin sat behind a small table filled with small stacks of money. A terrified expression covered his face as Carson leveled her carbine at his head.

  “I…I…”

  West stepped past Carson, moving his carbine behind him, letting it hang on its sling. He kicked the table away. Gold and silver coins went flying. He grabbed the alien by his shirt, lifting him off the floor as the coins pinged on the floor around them.

  “Where is he?” West shouted, pulling him close.

  “P-p-please,” Raamin stammered. “I…I don’t know what you speak of. I’m just a humble t-t-trader.” He tried, unsuccessfully, to pry West’s grip free of his shirt,

  “Bullshit,” West growled. “You’re nothing but a piece of shit slaver. You’re lucky I don’t blow you away right now.”

  Raamin screamed as West pressed the barrel of his pistol into the alien’s forehead. “Please! I swear!”

  “Where?”

  “I don’t, I don’t know who—”

  West lowered his pistol and shot the slaver in the knee. Raamin’s screams filled the room, hands slapping against West’s iron grip.

  “Where is Abendu?” West shouted, pointing this pistol as the other knee.

  “His tower! He went to his tower! Please!”

  West dropped the alien to the floor. Raamin screamed again, curling into a ball, cradling his destroyed knee. Blood seeped through his fingers, staining his pale-yellow pants. He rocked back and forth, wailing, shaking his head. Earrings clinked together as his over-sized ears flapped back and forth.

  He kicked out in obvious frustration, hitting nothing but air. A small, rectangular remote spun across the floor, hitting one of the table legs and spinning away.

  The Zeis women were screaming, scrambling to get away from the wailing Pindiki.

  “Get them out of here,” Carson yelled, motioning for Nunez. “Moretti, Birch, secure your prisoners and sweep for more.”

  Jena appeared in the doorway, motioning for the girls to come with her. At the sight of another Zeis, all three girls broke into sobs and ran for the hallway.

  Moretti knocked both guards unconscious with the butt of his carbine, then slipped into the far corridor with Birch. Commands to “come out with hands up”, and “don’t move” faded as they moved further away, deeper into the lair.

  “Where is the tower?” West repeated, leaning closer the wounded Pindiki.

  The alien’s face flushed, his pained expression turning to one of anger. He spit, aiming for West’s face, but only managing to hit his tactical vest. “You burn in the fires of Kaza!”

  “Okay,” West said, stepping to the side, aiming at the uninjured leg. “Remember that you could’ve prevented this.”

  Raamin held out a hand. “No, wait!”

  West hesitated. “Speak.”

  “You plan to kill him, yes?”

  “What do you care?”

  “He is taaje,” Raamin said. He groaned, seeming to swallow some of his pain, obviously trying to clear his mind to make a decent argument in his favor.

  “Okay? You’re going to have to give me more,” West said. “That doesn’t mean anything do me.”

  “Yes, yes, yes, is taaje. Indebted to me, you understand this? I have been allowing him to pay his debt to me by installments. He does not wish to go back to Pindiki to face the taaje, would certainly mean death.”

  West brought his pistol back up. “You’re starting to wear my patience thin, slaver.”

  “No, no, no, yes, please. Is reward. Pay maybe 500,000 accruals for his taaje on Pindik. My Consortium will pay much. I split taaje with you, yes? Sixty, forty.”

  “Are you kidding me?” West said.

  “We don’t have time for this,” Carson said, stepping around West. She grabbed hold of one of the gold loops dangling from the outermost earlobe. “Are you going to tell us or not?”

  Raamin tried to back away from Carson, wailing as she slid a finger through the loop and held fast, pulling his ear tight. The alien screamed, one hand grabbing Carson’s, holding it close.”

  Outside, an alarm started, distant, but audible. Then another.

  “What is that?” Carson said, giving the earring a tug.

  Raamin flinched and spoke through his whimpers. “I… I don’t… wait.” He cocked his head slightly, careful not to pull against Carson’s grip. He frowned. “Air raid?”

  Carson’s IR chirped. It was Nunez. “Go,” she said.

  “Chief, you’re going to want to see this.”

  “I’m kind of busy right now, Nunez,” Carson said, glaring down at the Pindiki, earring still firmly in her fingers.

  “No, I get that, Chief, but I’m pretty sure the city is under attack.”

  “Attack by whom?”

  “Hey, your guess is good as mine, Chief. I just work here.”

  “Shit,” Carson said. “Stand by.” She killed the link.

  Moretti and Birch appeared from the back corridor, two more Zeis females in tow. The aliens saw Raamin lying on the floor and screamed.

  Moretti jabbed a thumb back at the corridor. “These two are all that’s left, but looks like there was a lot more.”

  “Get them outside. We’ll be right there,” Carson said, then turned back to Raamin. “Who’s attacking Diasore?”

  “No, no, no, is not right,” Raamin said. “Is not possible.”

  “What? An attack? What’s not possible?”

  Somewhere outside, something exploded. The building vibrated under Carson’s feet. The deep thud of impacts grew in intensity.

  A second later, Nunez appeared in the corridor, a worried expression on his face. “Chief?”

  “We’re running out of time,” West said.

  Carson yanked the earring out of Raamin’s ear. He flung himself down onto the pillows, hands clamping down over his torn flesh.

  “This is your last chance, Raamin,” Carson told him, leaning in close. “You can tell us where to find Abendu, or you can die.”

  “Yes, yes, yes, okay, I tell you. I show you. I show you and you go. Please, you have map of Diasore?”

  “Does it look like I have a damn map, Raamin?” Carson asked.

  The alien recoiled at Carson’s outburst, scooting away, grimacing in pain and fear. “I… I…”

  “I don’t care how you do it, you piece of shit,” Carson shouted, kicking a pillow by Raamin’s leg, sending it flipping through the air, into the sheer curtains. “But you better start talking!”

  “Map?” Nunez asked. “You need a map, Chief?”

  Carson froze, her fingers inches away from another one of Raamin’s earrings and looked back at the Pathfinder.

  “I’ve got one,” Nunez said, pulling a grey tablet from his tactical vest. “Boosted it off that Burathi son of a bitch back at the restaurant,” he explained, bringing it to Carson.

  “Nice work,” Carson said, taking the pad. She held it out to Raamin. “Show me.”

  Chapter 24

  “It is glorious, isn’t it?” Kyrios asked, turning away from the view of his fleet. Beyond the wrap-around viewport of the Ultari station’s observation deck, forty ships were arranged in a loose formation, awaiting orders from the Emperor. “For over a thousand years, we waited. Preparing for this mo
ment. For our revenge.”

  Jared felt the press of his armor against his body. Wearing the mantle of the Emperor’s herald felt particularly heavy at this moment.

  “It is, indeed, my Emperor,” Arch Duke Cigyd said. “However, I must, once again, present my argument that we should attack the human colony first. They must be dealt with. If word spreads of their actions on Negev…”

  “Word?” Kyrios almost seemed amused by the Arch Duke’s statement. “To whom will they speak, Cigyd? They know no one in this galaxy that would listen. And even if they did, they are inconsequential to our end goals. The Abomination’s contingent in this sector must be neutralized before they realize that we have escaped their prison. They must not be allowed to organize an offense against us.”

  “But the Crucible? The jump gate technology the humans possess will—”

  “Will still be there after we have finished with the Regulos. In one terrible blow, we will crush their world and make known to the rest of the galaxy that we are not to be underestimated. The humans and their technology can wait, Cigyd. They are not going anywhere.”

  The Arch Duke hesitated for a moment, then bowed. “Of course. By your will, master.”

  Deep inside Jared’s mind, in a section of his brain he still wasn’t completely sure wasn’t visible to Kyrios, he was thankful for the Emperor’s decision. He refused to allow the thought to overtake him, however, there was much that needed to be done between now and then, and he wasn’t completely sure if he’d be able to accomplish it all.

  The Prince looked up from his terminal. “All ships report ready for hyperspace jump, master. The target is Diasore.”

  “They will wait for us. With me, Prince Zviera,” Kyrios said. “Let us board a warship worthy of our presence. Arch Duke, you have your mission.”

  “Yes, my emperor,” he bowed deeply at the waist.

  “Jared, you as well,” Kyrios flicked a claw at the human.

  “I can handle the netherguard,” Zviera protested, “do you think some Regulos filth can—”

  “Your talents will be used elsewhere,” the emperor said. “Come. It’s been too long since we’ve shed blood for our cause.”