by Matt Novotny
Rains rested his head in his hands and pressed on his eyes, trying to see some pattern in the false colors, hoping the pressure would jar something loose in his head. He knew Vannix was just a projection, knew he was indulging himself. Knew she was right. Knowing…just made it harder.
He tried to think back to his expectations when he had boarded the transport. Had he really expected Sin’Kura or Kr’et’Socae to be standing there with a gun to Sabine’s head? He was convinced he could face down the Sirra’Kan, but Kr’et’Socae? Mano el mano?
He remembered his fight with Thraff on Snowmass. The truth was, if Lucille hadn’t overridden the systems in Deathangel, Thraff would have torn him apart. Rains was too used to confronting his problems head on, and for good or ill, the rest of the galaxy didn’t work that way. The bad guys never showed up to match strength for strength.
The part that was making him twist was that he wasn’t paying the price. On Snowmass, Vannix had paid, on Avbo, it was Louie. Now Bes and Sabine had been taken, and he was determined not to let them pay any further. They were his family, more so because they chose to be. When he first received the Storm Watch, he’d had a moment of panic, before realizing they were safe. Safe on Earth, safe half a galaxy away. Safe in a place protected by brothers and sisters and the best tech money could buy, and that the best thing he could do to keep them that way was to stay away, to stand between them and whatever wanted to harm them.
It hadn’t been enough.
During the battle at Sanctuary, they had lost too much. Rains thought about when he met Ned and Bev on Snowmass. Later, they had followed Rains onto the Ptolemy. They weren’t looking for a fight. They were trying to solve a puzzle. An old suit of armor left in the corner of a hole in the ground. Left there by a man who was half a legend. Now Ned was dead. Killed by some thug so Kr’et’Socae could capture Rains’ family.
Jackson thought of Bev’s tear-stained face as she sat quietly next to Ned’s body, speaking with him as though they were still working together on Bruno. Rains didn’t know if there had been more between the two than their work, but it was clear that even that much had created a special bond between them.
Bes was as tough as they came. A lifetime around mercs had seen to that. She also wasn’t a woman who accepted insult quietly. Jackson knew that if there was any way to escape, or at least tell them where they were, she would find it. Sabine had already lost so much, but in spite of it all, she was always a happy girl. Rains thought of what Sin’Kura had done with Peacemaker Ravak’s cubs and pictured the same thing being done with Bes and Sabine. It made his heart ache.
He kept coming back to what Hak-Chet had told him. That the data breach had been done deliberately. Kr’et’Socae hadn’t needed to find Rains’ family. The Peacemaker Guild had more or less delivered them, along with Peacemaker Ravak’s family. The Guild Council was Kr’et’Socae’s target. Rains himself was just a means to an end. For the Peacemakers, Rains was a Human shield. Kr’et’Socae wanted him to be the assassin’s blade.
Bes, Sabine, Ned. The lives lost on Gorton, at Sanctuary—none of those were part of a plan. They were just…collateral damage.
Rains ran through his options and none of them were good. One thing was for certain, though, nothing was going to stop him from saving Bes and Sabine.
Nothing.
* * * * *
Chapter Nine
Sanctuary Plantation
Louisiana, Earth
Sabine huddled behind the legs of Black Widow in the entry to her birthday pavilion, holding ‘Bastian and looking across the open area to the house’s porch. The staccato crack-crack-crack of gunfire ripped through the air, punching a line of holes through the canvas wall. She looked at the carnage. Tables were flipped and her presents and cake were spread across the ground. Babette had parked her mech here to hold one of the pavilion’s supports, but Sabine didn’t see her anywhere.
Sabine had snuck into the tent to see how many presents she had and to try to figure out what they were.
Nana Bes is gonna be mad if I get caught sneakin’, she thought, but she couldn’t resist a chance to see what she’d got. This was the biggest party she’d ever had. When she’d asked why, Nana Bes had said, “Next year you are going to be a proper young lady, and we’ll be looking at all sorts of boring practical things, so this year we get to spoil you! Don’t let it go to your head.” Then she had given her a big hug.
Sabine had been so excited to meet Romeo Bravo! Race Romero himself! And Race had arrived with Junkyard and Oneshot. He had brought her a whole set of action figures and an autographed poster and…. well, then he had seemed more interested in talking with Amos and the other mercs, and it wasn’t fair. It was her party, so she had slipped away with ‘Bastian.
She felt guilty, but not for long. With her new Peacemaker jumpsuit from Uncle Jackson and ‘Bastian walking by her side, she pretended it was a secret mission. She even turned down the BlueNabi ‘Bastian had been playing. New ‘Bastian wasn’t as cuddly as old ‘Bastian, but she’d decided old ‘Bastian was ready for a rest, and so he was now a King while the new prince became her protector. Besides, it was fun that he could run with her. Remmy said there were all sorts of things he could do, and she could teach him more.
She had lifted the edge of the pavilion wall and ‘Bastian had slipped underneath and walked to the center of the tent. “All clear?” Sabine whispered. ‘Bastian had flashed his cannon, the white LEDs plain in the dim interior. Sabine had crept in and was gingerly shaking her first present when the gunfire started.
What’s going on? she thought.
Amos had always said that if it sounded like anything dangerous was happening, she should get to the safe area under the plantation. She’d grabbed ‘Bastian and run for the door when a man she didn’t know slammed full-tilt into Widow then ricocheted away to upend the table with the cake on it, sending cake and party favors flying. A few seconds later, another man ran through the door only to be riddled with gunfire, splattering the white canvas and her table full of presents with blood. She heard Remmy’s friend Burton shouting outside but couldn’t see him. “That’s six! That all you got?” he yelled. Sabine kept hoping to see him so she could get his attention, but he must have gone in a different direction.
She held ‘Bastian against her chest. Tears flooded her eyes, and it was hard to breathe. ‘Bastian struggled for a moment, then lay still and began to purr as she held him tighter. She saw the first man the Lumar had thrown start to move and she steeled herself for a run to the porch door. As she gathered her nerve, there was a thunderous crack-boom. Sabine watched as the man struggled to his hands and knees and saw motion on the other side of the tent. It was Lem, hiding beneath one of the tables. Her heart leapt. Lem would help her! Two more men came around to the pavilion entrance. She shrank back into her hiding spot, but it was too late.
“Well, well, what do we have here, Yeorgi? I think we have just received a bonus from the cat lady, you and I!”
Sabine screamed as the men reached for her.
* * *
Bes dug in, trying to twist away from Sin’Kura as she was dragged toward one of the intruder’s vehicles. Sin’Kura shook her, digging her talons into Bes’ arm. Bes rounded on her with an open-handed strike to the Sirra’Kan’s face. To a Human the blow might have been disabling for long enough for Bes to break away, but if anything, the strike seemed to excite the feline. Her natural eye widened in surprise while her implant glowed yellow. “So, not so meek after all. I am pleased,” she said. She turned Bes slightly to show her Sabine struggling in the grip of two men. Sabine momentarily broke the grip of one and swung ‘Bastian by one of his legs, hitting the man in the face. He stiffened, then grabbed the toy and ripped it from her hands. “‘Bastian!” she yelled.
“Ha!” chortled the other man. “She give you the crab, Lev!”
“Fuck you, Yeorgi! That thing—” Lev jerked as several rounds tore into him from the direction of the house. He staggered, moving
weakly.
‘Bastian hit the ground and immediately ran back to Sabine, leaping into her arms.
“Don’t hurt her!” shouted Bes.
“Ah,” said Sin’Kura, yanking Bes back toward the transport. “We haf what we came for, perhaps I should just leave you here, if you wish?”
“I’ll go,” Bes said. She couldn’t imagine leaving Sabine alone with these monsters.
Yeorgi was holding Sabine by the arm and was trying to separate her from ‘Bastian.
“Leave the toy if it will keep her quiet,” said the Sirra’Kan.
“This little bitch—” Yeorgi began.
“Is worth more to me than all of you combined,” Sin’Kura finished for him. “Remember that. From now on, you are her keeper. If anything happens to her, it will take you a long time to die. Ah, Mister Hatfield, so glad you are able to join us,” said Sin’Kura as the factor sprinted to the group. “You will ride in front and make sure we are not delayed, then dispose of the vehicles after we leave. Did you deliver my present?”
“All set,” said Hatfield, “I left it in the cook house; there’ll be no trouble.”
“Excellent. Then our business is concluded. I will be in touch if we are in further need of your services.”
“My pleasure, ma’am.” He headed for his seat.
“Now, you.” Sin’Kura said, turning back to Bes. “Get in.”
Come on, boys! Bes thought as she and Sabine were hustled into separate transports. Get after it!
Bes didn’t know if Amos was even still alive. She thought she had seen him go down in the last exchange of gunfire, but, if he was, he’d do everything in his power to rescue them.
“Who are you people? What do you want with us?” Bes asked.
The Sirra’Kan stared at her for a moment. “Because you show strength, I will tell you. An associate of mine requires certain things from Jackson Rains. Our possession of you will ensure that he gets them.”
“Jac-son is a Peacemaker. He’s not going to give you anything!” said Bes.
“We believe differently,” said Sin’Kura. “You should hope that we are correct.”
“What happens if you aren’t?” said Bes, knowing the answer.
“Then you have no particular value. Perhaps we would find some use for you. I am told some Besquith haf a fondness for Human meat.”
After a while, the transport slowed to a halt. Sin’Kura gestured as the door opened. “Out. Get on the shuttle and do not waste my time. My patience has limits.”
Bes did as she was told. As soon as she was out of the transport, Sabine ran to her. “Oh, Nana!” she said. Her eyes were red from crying and there was blood on her mouth.
Bes stroked Sabine’s hair as she hugged her. “What happened, child?”
“He hit me!” she said, looking at Yeorgi.
The big man shrugged. “She would not shut up,” he said. “They tell me Lev will live. Had my brother died because of her I would kill her regardless of what she—” he nodded toward Sin’Kura, “—said. I will be babysitter while I am paid, but if she wishes to remain undamaged, she will do as she is told. Da?”
Bes said nothing, but the look she gave him plainly said she wanted to kill him.
He shrugged again. “Get aboard and strap in.”
Bes moved past Yeorgi with Sabine. “Stay out of his way; that man has no good writ all over him. You just hang on tight. You know the company be comin’ for us.”
Bes strapped Sabine in and sat next to her. Yeorgi made sure they were secured and took the end seat in their row, but otherwise ignored them.
She watched Sabine murmur to ‘Bastian, hoping she would hear the sound of a rescue. Bes had no idea what Jackson was involved in or how it had managed to spill over to them. She knew the galaxy was full of bad people. She also knew that, as mercs, the Cajuns weren’t always on the side of the angels, even though they selected their contracts carefully, but it had never followed them home before. She only hoped that whatever was going on, Amos and Jackson would find a way to save them.
And God, she prayed, let them hurry!
* * *
Unknown Location
Kr’et’Socae put the slate on the table next to him. He smiled at the news Sin’Kura had forwarded to him. Soon the Human Peacemaker would be forced to do his bidding, or Kr’et’Socae would let Sin’Kura flay the two Human female captives on Tri-V. Soon Rsach would pay for what he had done to Kr’et’Socae.
Anger burned in his heart as he remembered that day in the Peacemaker Council chambers. He had done exactly what they had sent him to do. Kr’et’Socae had been but a pawn on the playing field, and they sacrificed him. Not for a specific gain, not for the advancement of the guild or some other noble purpose, but because they were weak.
Even after all this time, the embers of his hatred were white-hot coals. Kr’et’Socae yearned with every fiber of his being to make them pay for what he had been through. The humiliation of being stripped of rank. The hurt and betrayal as his mentor, Hr’ent, disintegrated his Peacemaker badge in front of the assembled body of Peacemakers still burned hot in him. The memory was as fresh as if it had happened yesterday.
Kr’et’Socae got up and paced the room, his hooves loud on the laminate floor.
Prison had been a continuation of the ignominy. Sent to Kleve to rot there. What the fools hadn’t realized was that instead of placing him in a shark tank to be punished by the inmates for being a former Peacemaker, they had put him in with a pool of potential allies. Serious criminals from every walk of life, each with unique and valuable skills. Each bearing a kindred hatred for the Peacemakers. It was there he had met Sin’Kura. It was her contacts that had put him in touch with his mate, Sa’texia, to arrange the prison break. For a moment, he was overwhelmed with grief, and he stood trembling. Slowly he fed the longing for his mate into the coals of hate, stoking the fires of his anger. He threw back his head, his black mane shaking, and voiced a primal scream of anguish and fury.
Jackson Rains. The filth that had taken his mate from him. He was going to pay. Kr’et’Socae barked a short laugh. “You will become the instrument of my revenge, Peacemaker,” he said to the empty room. With incredible will, he tamped down the swirling hatred and pushed the emotions down into himself. He allowed himself to relish the image of Rsach dying with the knowledge that a Peacemaker had allowed Kr’et’Socae to serve justice. He reveled in the fantasy, playing the scene out in his mind.
A tone from the slate broke him out of his reverie. With two quick strides, he picked the slate off the table.
“What is it?” he asked.
“The courier has just entered the system. Our factor is aboard. The messages are in your queue,” the voice said.
“Understood, Churff. Anything new from Sin’Kura?” Kr’et’Socae asked. He would have to keep Churff away from Rains until after Rsach was dead. Kr’et’Socae smiled. It would be fitting if Rains was killed by Thraff’s brother.
“Yes, her message is in the queue. She is moving and on schedule. She will meet us at Hope’s End. I just hope the captives can survive that sadistic bitch,” Churff said.
“Get the transport ready. I want to change to our next location within a rotation.” Kr’et’Socae cut the link. He was pleased with how things were going. He knew Sin’Kura would get the job done. He just hoped he could channel her proclivity for violence in his direction for a bit longer. She’d proven especially useful if a bit erratic. For now, her extracurricular activities suited his plans.
He crossed to the bar and poured himself a large glass of fermented mare’s milk. Kr’et’Socae didn’t normally drink, but this was a moment to celebrate. Rains was on his hook, and he intended to make the fish flop around and gasp for air.
* * *
Sanctuary Plantation
Louisiana, Earth
“So, there you have it. That’s as much as I know,” said Rains. “We’re trying to find out if any of the tracking stations in the area picked up the shutt
le. The transponder was turned off, but there are other methods. Radar from local traffic control, satellite imagery; we’re looking for a needle in a haystack, but for the moment, it’s the best we’ve got.”
From the back of the room, Remmy joined in. “The new ‘Bastian has a tracker in ‘im, but it ain’t broadcasting. Either it’s been found or it ain’t someplace it can get a signal out.”
There was a whine of machinery as the armored doors in the ceiling parted and the heavy cargo lift started its slow journey down the far wall of the bay. Greasy waved from the lift, riding down with the Cajuns’ Mk 8s and a pile of parts from Crimson Samurai, the Olympian that had been killed in the attack. In the maintenance bay, Bev and Nolan were working on Junkyard. Race Romero had Romeo Bravo parked in one of the racks and was using a pressure washer to clean the white and gold mech. Blood sluiced off the machine and down the drains.
After the bomb in Amos’ cookhouse, the group had moved the conversation to the secured bunkers beneath the plantation while Sanctuary was scanned for explosives. Fortunately, they hadn’t found any more of Sin’Kura’s little surprises.
Callista Benoit sagged against the lockers in the CASPer ready room, her hand unconsciously brushing her blonde hair behind an ear before settling on the cold pack held against her injured shoulder. “I don’t understand what these people want. Why take Bes and Sabine? Why tell you that you have a chance to get them back and then try to kill you? None of this makes any sense.”
“I don’t think Kr’et’Socae knows or cares what methods are being employed as long as they’re effective. Smash and grab isn’t his style. What we know for certain now is that Sin’Kura is working for him. That was a question mark before. The holo was his message. The bomb was hers. But it wasn’t meant to kill or there wouldn’t have been any warning,” said Rains. “Whatever he wants, he needs a Peacemaker to get it for him, and that’s good news.”
