by Matt Novotny
“Weeell,” she said. “I do like a man who ain’t afraid of work…Greasy, was it? I got an eye for these things!”
Greasy opened his mouth to answer, only to be interrupted.
“Pleased to meet you, Greasy. I can tell we gonna be friends! I’m Bes’ sister Marie!”
* * *
Survey Ship Ptolemy
Earth System
Captain Cargill pointed to the tactical simulation. “They’ve set a good pace, but it’s just on the high side of normal for a transport job; trying not to attract attention. I’ve set an off-parallel course. Once we get close enough, we can pour it on and intercept them about here in about nine hours.”
The ships’ courses on the display abruptly converged. “Here is where it gets dicey, though. If they can get into the asteroid belt then it’s going to be hard to keep a lock on their position. I don’t think it would be too hard to re-acquire them, but they can make us pay for it. They’re heading for an area where there are larger asteroids, so a base is a possibility, though there isn’t anything in the directory,” Cargill explained.
“How fast can the Ptolemy accelerate?” asked Rains.
Cargill looked pained. “Six Gs.”
Rains raised an eyebrow, impressed. “That’s considerably faster than I expected a survey ship to go.”
Cargill shrugged. “Be prepared. It won’t help us until we’re close enough to put it to good use. They have too much of a lead.”
Rains nodded and tapped the display. “I think this is our best bet. If it looks like we’ve been spotted, then you can pour it on.” He tapped his comm. “Richard, we may need to kick into high gear in a hurry, keep everyone close to their crash couches, okay?”
“Copy that, Peacemaker. We’re all settled in. Give us a heads-up when it’s close to go-time,” Fontenot replied.
Rains signed off and looked to Cargill. “What can I do to help?”
“For the time being, nothing. Right now, it’s slow cat after slower mouse. We just have to hope they don’t notice us,” Cargill said. “You should get some rest. You look beat.”
Rains checked the time. Had everything happened that fast? In spite of the short timeframe, Rains felt like he had run a marathon. “Good advice,” Rains said.
“I’ll let you know the second anything changes,” promised Cargill.
Rains descended the ladder from the bridge, moved to the cargo area, down the hall to grab a fresh jumpsuit from his go-bag, then hit the bay’s shower. Under thrust he could afford to clean up the old-fashioned way instead of the mist and artificial cyclone that had to be used in zero G. The scalding water sluiced the day from him as much as could be expected.
What does Kr’et’Socae want that justifies the trouble of kidnapping Bes and Sabine? And why the sudden change in tactics? Was this his fault? Rains wondered. He breathed deep to let the steam clear his sinuses. If I had a bottle of Amos’ Cajun sauce, I wouldn’t have to worry about it.
Fifteen minutes later, the heat had worked its magic and loosened up the knotted muscles in his neck and shoulders. He dried off, put on the clean jumpsuit, and spent a few minutes stretching to work out the last of the kinks, still feeling the uncomfortable pull from his injuries on Gorton Station. Then he headed for his bunk. After tossing and turning for half an hour, Rains gave it up as a bad job. Too tired to sleep.
He got up and thought about returning to the bridge but shook his head. Cargill’s a man of his word. No need to get underfoot. Instead, he dropped by the Cajuns’ bay. Like the experienced mercs they were, all four were sound asleep. Not wanting to wake them, Rains headed down to what Cargill had described as his guilty pleasure, the ship’s library.
Secured against one bulkhead were floor-to-ceiling shelves that looked like real wood. Books lined the shelves, secured by brass chains. In the center of the wall was a fireplace with a holographic fire burning cheerily. Two worn but comfortable-looking leather armchairs faced the fireplace, flanking a small table, all securely fastened to the deck. Behind the chairs was an open space, and against the far wall was a built-in workspace and mounted displays set to look like art. The whole could have passed for an old-world gentleman’s study in any vintage drama.
Jackson looked at the books. Faux leather bindings and plastic pages, lightweight and fireproof, but covering a range of topics. Kennedy’s The Role of Guilds in Galactic Politics, Ikenberry’s A History of the Peacemakers and On the Founding of Kleve. Wandrey’s The Four Horsemen, as well as many others, most of which had been required reading at the Academy. Wolf, Osborne, Ezell, Steverson…Rains did a double take when he saw A Compendium of Demonic Iconography in Galactic Archaeological Sites by someone named Rath. There was Arctic Survival Skills by Ibson. Finally, he picked up a somewhat worn volume: The Ptolemaic Wars.
Cargill is quite the historian, thought Rains.
Jackson settled into one of the wing chairs and started to read. Warmth radiated from the fire. Within minutes, Rains was asleep.
A persistent beep jolted Rains from his nap. He slapped at his slate groggily. “Rains. Go.”
“Peacemaker,” said Cargill. “Looks like we’ve been spotted. The transport is making a break for the belt. We aren’t as close as I’d like, but it’s the best we could do. Ready for some high G?”
Rains was instantly awake. “Let’s do this. On my way to the bridge. Two minutes.”
Klaxons rang throughout the Ptolemy. “This is Captain Cargill, prepare for high-G maneuvers in three minutes. Repeat, three minutes. All crew to crash couches.”
Rains commed Fontenot. “We’re closing in, Richard. As soon as we secure from high G, you boys suit up.”
“Roger that, Jackson. We’ll be ready,” said Fontenot.
Rains arrived on the bridge and strapped in.
“Ready?” asked Cargill. “ETA to intercept is around forty minutes at full burn.” Rains settled back as Cargill hit the klaxon again. “High-G maneuvers in thirty seconds,” he said. On the captain’s board, Rains saw several indicators turn green. “High G in five, four, three…” When Cargill reached one, Rains felt an enormous pressure as the thrust of the Ptolemy moved from a sedate half G all the way up to the survey ship’s maximum. The heavy acceleration made his ribs and shoulder remind him they were not quite healed, starting with a dull ache and moving up to an agonizing throb. For the next forty minutes all Rains could do was hang on and fight to breathe. He watched as they neared transport on the monitor. Suddenly, the pressure eased, and he could move again. Cargill adjusted Rains’ display.
“You have comms,” he said.
“Unidentified transport, this is Peacemaker Jackson Rains aboard the survey ship Ptolemy, you are ordered to power down and stand-to for boarding and inspection.”
“Or what?” came back the heavily accented English. “I think you’ll just have to come on and catch me.”
Jackson watched Cargill curse as the transport maneuvered around one of the larger asteroids at the edge of the belt.
“He has a point,” said Jackson, starting to unstrap. “I guess we get to see how Bruno does after all.”
There was a beep as the display changed. Somewhere in the little ship, Rains heard the whirr of machinery. “Strap in!” Cargill yelled as he maneuvered the ship around the same asteroid.
“What is this?” asked Rains, trying to familiarize himself with the display.
“Plasma cannon,” said Cargill.
Rains stared at him.
“What?” asked Cargill. “Space is a dangerous place, Peacemaker.”
“I’m going to buy you a drink.” He keyed the comm again. “Transport, stand down and heave-to now or you will be fired upon. You have ten seconds to comply.” Rains started counting down.
“I hope you’re a good shot,” said Cargill.
“Yeah, right,” came over the comm. “Like that old bucket of bolts has any—”
Rains worked the controls and bolts of plasma lit up the sky all around the transport.
Rains tapped the internal comm. “Richard, meet me at the airlock. It’s party time!”
* * * * *
Chapter Eleven
Sin’Kura’s Shuttle
Bes held Sabine’s hand as the engines ignited, lifting the shuttle and pressing them into their seats as the pilot poured on the power. Sabine cried softly, pressing her face into ‘Bastian’s soft fur, hugging the toy tightly with her other arm. She let out a small scream as the shuttle bucked through some turbulence and squeezed Bes’ hand.
They could hear Sin’Kura talking on the comm over the noise of the flight. “Shuttle two, you are clear to deliver package. Remember, my boss may try to trick you, so you must stay radio silent once you are clear to earn your bonus.”
The shuttle lurched sideways, prompting another small scream from Sabine. Bes felt her relax slightly when ‘Bastian started to vibrate, giving off a slight buzz.
Yeorgi turned a shade of green and bent double to press his forehead against the seat in front of him. With the next lurch, he scrambled for a vomit bag and made sick sounds.
Sin’Kura stepped into the passenger area, bracing herself lightly inside the doorway.
“I trust you will not foul the shuttle, Mr. Romanov? We should leave the atmosphere soon for zero gravity.”
Yeorgi looked up miserably, closing the bag and wiping his mouth with a towel from the kit. “I’ll be fine. I get airsick, not spacesick,” he said through clenched teeth as he reached for another bag.
“And how are our guests?” Sin’Kura said.
“It will take more than a little shake to trouble us. If I were you, I’d be more worried about what happens when the Cajuns catch this shuttle,” said Bes.
“By the time they look we will be on the other side of the planet. But we haf left them with something to chase should they prove more resourceful. We can count on Peacemaker Rains at least to react first and think second.” She bared her fangs in parody of a Human smile. “Do you have other questions? No?” Bes gave the alien a withering look. The smile widened slightly. “Good.” Sin’Kura returned to the cockpit.
The Torvasi, as usual, said nothing.
As the Sirra’Kan promised, the ride smoothed out as the shuttle moved out of the atmosphere, performing a series of maneuvers before settling into a new course.
Bes turned to Yeorgi. “Where are you taking us?” she asked.
“Am not taking you anywhere. Am along for ride,” he said. “Should have been collecting my money and drinking with Lev by now. But Lev got shot, and I am here as babysitter. Now be quiet.”
Bes sat back and put her arm around Sabine. “What do they want, Nana?”
“Something from your Uncle Jackson, child. Don’t you worry none, they’ll be after us as soon as dey can.”
“Will they let us go if he gets it for them?” Sabine asked.
“No,” said Yeorgi, “they will stuff you in recycler or sell you as slave or food for Besquith.”
The look Bes gave Yeorgi could have vaporized a small planet. “Don’t you pay what he says no mind, now. You pay attention to what I’m telling you. We’re gonna be fine. Jac-son and Amos and the rest of the family ain’t gonna give up on us. They’re comin’. Our job now is to stay safe as we can and be ready when dey do. Jac-son will bring the Peacemakers, too.”
“Fantasy,” said Yeorgi. “The Peacemakers care nothing for one old woman and a little girl.”
Bes smiled. “Dey didn’t tell you who you snatched, did dey? You probably right, unless dey family.”
Bes saw hesitation on the big man’s face. So, they didn’t tell him who they were kidnapping then. Maybe she could drive a wedge in there. “I hope you’re getting paid really well, because the people you just decided to tangle with ain’t never gonna stop,” she said.
“Yeah!” said Sabine. “And my Uncle Jackson is gonna put you in jail for ever and ever!”
Yeorgi looked thoughtful but shrugged. “Is not the first time that has been tried.” He pulled a magazine from behind one of the seats. “Now, be quiet. It will be bad for you if I must tell you again.”
* * *
Sin’Kura unbuckled the safety harness and flowed out of her seat with a languid stretch. Everyone in the cabin looked away lest they incur her wrath. She smiled at their discomfort. She was an attractive Sirra’Kan, and that meant she was an attractive humanoid to a variety of species. She wore an outfit that accentuated her femininity without impairing her movement during physical combat.
Done stretching, she moved to the console and put one clawed hand on the shoulder of the Zeewie operator. The creature trembled at her touch. Sin’Kura reveled in the terror a simple touch could evoke.
“Bring up the Ptolemy on optics,” she purred into his ear.
The Zeewie threw her a frightened glance and hurriedly whispered, “Yes, mistress.” His fingers flew across the controls, and in a few heartbeats the Tri-V lit up with the sight of the ship in flight. The reaction thrusters were wide open, and the ship was heading away from Earth.
“Go catch your quarry, Peacemaker,” she said to the retreating image, smirking. She thrilled in the chase: predator and prey.
Sin’Kura glanced down, thinking of her captives. Her smile grew. Perhaps she would get to play with them before Kr’et’Socae killed them. She shrugged and put them out of her mind.
“Open a laser to the Gendrus,” she ordered the Zeewie. His trembling increased. This time it annoyed her. “What?” she barked.
“Apologies, mistress,” he whined. “I cannot from this console. Only the communications panel can manipulate the comms laser.”
She blinked, then laughed. “Oh, well, why didn’t you say so?” She punched him lightly in the arm. With an abrupt turn that caused the Zeewie to squeak, Sin’Kura moved to the communications console. Once it was clear he had survived the encounter, the Zeewie operator passed out from relief.
Again, she considered the two Humans. If it wouldn’t bring down Kr’et’Socae’s wrath, she would rather space the pair. But that was a confrontation Sin’Kura wasn’t ready to have. For now, her plans and Kr’et’Socae’s aligned. Once she had the Te’Warri throne and her brother’s killer in chains at her feet, then she could look at crossing Kr’et’Socae. She smiled at the daydream as she reached the communications console.
“Open a laser to the Gendrus,” she ordered the comm tech. The Zuul nodded and initiated the link. Once the amber indicator flashed green, he gestured to Sin’Kura. The display flashed with the image of a Bakulu. Supposedly you could tell them apart by their shell designs, but they all looked alike to her. Thankfully, this one had green metal rank bands on its eyestalks.
“Captain Lakanto, this is Sin’Kura. We have two guests. Please make preparations to depart and get their accommodations ready.”
The captain bobbed its eyestalks in acknowledgement. “As you wish, Princess.”
Sin’Kura narrowed her eyes. She couldn’t tell if he was being deferential or sarcastic. The translation pendant didn’t give her enough of a clue.
“I don’t need to remind you what our patron will do to you if our guests come to harm, do I?” Sin’Kura said.
The Bakulu waved several pseudopods in agitation. “Don’t threaten me, Princess. I’ve been working for him longer than you have.” Sin’Kura smiled. This was sentiment she didn’t have to guess at.
“No disrespect, Captain,” she said demurely. “I just wish to remain intact, as I am sure you do, too.” Her tone seemed to have placated him. “We are en route and should be there on time. Please get ready to jump.”
She waved to cut the transmission. The Zuul terminated the laser.
Sin’Kura looked out of the forward display. This particular model transport didn’t have front windows, so the forward bulkhead was covered in large Tri-V displays. For several minutes she watched them while the small crew continued about their business. She nodded at not
hing in particular, then headed back to her seat before they hit full weightlessness. Her boots barely made a sound. She had paid some serious credits for the designer clothes to be shipped from her home world. The soft magnetic soles were all the rage on the Te’Warri yachting circle. Soon enough, she would have her enemies kissing them.
“Do you require anything, mistress?” her bodyguard asked her. She couldn’t remember his name. There were six of them in a sibling-bonded group. So, legitimately, they all did look alike. She thought she ought to paint numbers on their armor.
“Give me a nutrient bulb,” she said. “A red one. I like them best.”
The guard passed her one of the drink containers, and she flipped up the end. As she sucked on the bulb, dark thoughts swirled through her mind as she ran through the scenarios where she might get to hunt a Peacemaker. Distracted as she was in her fantasies, she barely noticed when they docked with the Gendrus.
She had no idea how Kr’et’Socae had managed to get his claws on a ship with internal shunts. Then Sin’Kura corrected herself. She knew he had deep ties throughout the Galactic Union. Some of the logistical support she had seen had surprised her. He had containers full of red diamonds and a seemingly endless supply of F11. Some of the shopping trips she had been sent on were astounding. She could easily buy the throne of Te’Warri with what she had personally handed to various bureaucrats in various guilds.
She unbuckled and managed to move gracefully to the hatch in the zero G. The Zeewie crewman already had it open and stood back to let her pass. She glanced back. “Bring the guests along.” Then she was through the hatch. A minor functionary of Captain Lakanto’s was there to meet her. Sin’Kura wasn’t sure what the Cochkala actually did for the captain. She much preferred the Blevin to the Cochkala, who looked too much like the wildlife on Te’Warri, and Sin’Kura always had an overwhelming desire to hunt him. Her eye flashed red, which caused the crewman to involuntarily take a step back. “These are our guests. I trust their accommodations are ready?”
