Prodigal Son (Rise of the Peacemakers Book 5)

by Matt Novotny

  Rains paused and saw Kr’et’Socae watching Sin’Kura. Rains thought about what a near thing the whole mission had been. We were running half a step from the edge of ruin the entire time. “Not to mention, I took your toy away from you with a couple of ships and a hundred men. You should have stuck with your Torvasi. Once the pressure was on, the Blevin folded like a cheap table. You are a liability.”

  “Enough!” Kr’et’Socae bellowed. “I tire of your bickering, amusing as it may be. You waste your time, Rains. Sin’Kura has been especially useful to me, and we have things to do, but thank you for the reminder you may not have been detected. You may have another opportunity to be useful as well. You still owe me a life. Until next time.”

  Kr’et’Socae turned and strode down the corridor to the waiting ship without a backward glance, Sin’Kura hurried in his wake, stopping at the airlock to give Rains a hard stare. Rains returned it along with his best smile and a raised middle finger in salute. “See you soon, kitty.”

  Sin’Kura entered the lock, followed by her guards. Rains watched the airlock cycle. There was a clunk, as the ship detached from the station.

  Rains slumped into a chair, still smiling, and started to chuckle, then to laugh, waves of mirth running through him. Bes and Sabine were safe, and that was all that mattered. He really wished he had been able to bring in Kr’et’Socae, with Sin’Kura as icing on the cake, but he had done plenty of damage.

  Rains saw Vannix reflected in a darkened engineering console.

  “That was quite the performance. I think you oversold it,” Vannix said.

  “What, partner, you don’t think I have a stellar career as an actor?” Rains asked.

  “I think you should stick to being a Peacemaker.”

  Rains thought back to the day he and Remmy had broken into the secure datacenter on Kleve.

  Council access only.

  Rains didn’t have Remmy’s affinity for technology, but he was no slouch either, and he had a history of digging in places he wasn’t supposed to that went all the way back to Ms. Gilson’s class and his secret games of Raknar Pilot.

  He sat at the terminal and found the files the Equiri was looking for. Even with Council-level access, he couldn’t directly read the files, and Rains would have given a lot to know how Kr’et’Socae was going to do that. The files were individually encrypted, then stored in a compressed folder with a second level of encryption.

  There was no way he could alter the original files, but he could create new ones, rename them, and place them into the original folder. The system would probably flag the folder as changed, but it looked like they changed fairly frequently. Chances were good no one would notice unless they knew exactly what to look for. Rains worked quickly, and when he was done, his last step was to overwrite four of the dummy files with the originals. Have to have enough real data there to authenticate, Rains thought.

  Then he created a second copy of the files and attached everything to a message that would be delivered in two weeks. Hopefully, that would give Kr’et’Socae and Sin’Kura enough time to be well on their way to wherever they were going.

  “Selector. The advice on changing travel plans after the data breach made a lot of sense. I’ve already made some changes of my own.

  “—Jackson.”

  Rains inserted the chip. He paused because he knew even what he was doing would most likely end his career as a Peacemaker, but not doing it would kill Bes and Sabine.

  Rains looked up. “Bes, Sabine…Vannix, forgive me.” Rains hit Commit and watched as the files scanned. Two new files were created on the chip.

  There’s our destination.

  Rains pulled the chip.

  Rains wished he could have been there to see Kr’et’Socae’s frustration while trying to verify those files, but then he sobered. Kr’et’Socae had four chances in a hundred to score a hit, but the Equiri had beaten worse odds before. Assuming they didn’t lock Rains up, he had to figure out a way to keep the pressure on.

  He looked back at the panel, but Vannix was gone. “I think you should stick to being a Peacemaker,” she’d said.

  “If they let me, partner. If they let me.”

  For now, we need to put the pieces back together. Again. And then, home.

  * * * * *

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Hope Station

  Hangar Bay Gallery

  After the battle, it had taken nearly a month to tie up all the loose ends at Hope Station. Working shift on, shift off, they managed to free the REX and bring her into Hope’s hangar bay so they could repair the doors. The Blevin were disarmed and confined to one level by welding most of the hatches shut.

  Bes’ injuries kept her in the station’s infirmary, and Sabine and the other Cajuns did their best to keep her spirits up. Mix and some of her sisters visited every day, and soon she could get out and about with the aid of a wheelchair.

  Sabine often visited her Oogar friend, who was in the next bay over from Bes. He was in a coma from the injuries he received fighting the Blevin and Torvasi when he broke out of his cell.

  Rains called everyone together on the main cargo gallery overlooking the REX to discuss their options.

  “What do you think, Chief?” Captain Lorm asked.

  “Too much damage,” Achatina said. “We can probably patch her up—Hope basically has a full yard—but we don’t have the people to get the station to the point where we can do the work. We’ll have to find another solution. We can lock the Ptolemy on again for the hyperspace transition.”

  Rains had asked Lucille to install a copy of herself in Hope’s computer, and, thanks to her, they now had a much better handle on the station’s condition and capabilities. He had explained her to Amos and the others as a simple voice interface he used with Bruno that was needed to keep the lights on with the small number of crew they had available.

  “I don’ know; I think I’d just as soon type out what I wanted,” said Amos.

  Remmy jumped in, seeing the way the wind was blowing. “It’s no different from Sabine talking to ‘Bastian, cousin. And since you won’t enter the modern world with a set of pinplants, you’re going to need the interface to get things done faster,” he said.

  “It’s a space station, not a toy, Remmy Bouchard,” Amos said. “I feel like I’m talkin’ to myself.”

  “You do that without a voice interface,” Rains said, chuckling.

  “Fine,” Amos said. “But pick a different name. Lucille makes me feel like she’s gonna pick a fine time to leave. Give it a good Cajun name.”

  “How about Simone?” Bes said, referring to Amos’ daughter.

  “No,” Amos breathed, “that be too hard. Would you call it Louie?”

  “All right, Amos, but she said she’d always be with us. How ‘bout her middle name?” Bes said. “That name got history.”

  Amos’ hands tightened on the railing for a moment. “We do that then, since you ain’t letting it go. Use Yvonne.”

  “Okay, Amos. I’ll handle it,” Jackson said, pulling the discussion back on track. He really would have liked to leave Hope station at a different time, but there weren’t any good options. They simply didn’t have the resources to get everyone off the station.

  “Okay, options?” Rains asked.

  “Space the Blevin or keep them locked up here till we take the Zeewie off, then tell their people to come and get them,” Race offered.

  “Spacing them is not an option,” Nolan said before anyone else.

  “Why not?” Race said. “They killed plenty of us.”

  “The reality of being a merc,” Rikki said. “The being you fight against today may be the one you fight beside tomorrow.”

  “No idea what you are talking about,” Sebastian said.

  Tikki and Tavvi laughed.

  “Also assumes their people give a shit. They may be a write-off, but until we know otherwise, we have to assume they’re our problem,” said Tikki.

  “Also, there’s a goo
d chance their people have no idea where they are. They were probably shipped here, told what they were expected to do, and either did it or faced the Torvasi,” said Tavvi.

  “We might offer them a contract,” Nolan said.

  “Possibly,” said Rains, “but not as security. They worked for Kr’et’Socae and Sin’Kura. Until we know how deep those ties go, I’m not taking any chances re-arming them.”

  “I worked for Kr’et’Socae and Sin’Kura, too, though I didn’t know they were criminals. It was just a new opportunity. For what it’s worth, we never had any problems working with the Blevin,” Mix said.

  “Mix, anyone at home that would send a ship for you?” Rains asked.

  Mix had stepped up and was handling the affairs of the nearly three hundred Zeewie on Hope Station. When Sin’Kura left with her Torvasi, the Zeewie had been left to fend for themselves.

  “No,” Mix said, shaking her head. “We were supposed to prep the station so they could bring in miners from Te’Warri, or that’s what we were told. This was going to be a new start for most of us. Some of us have mates that were going to join us with the mining crews, but many have nothing to return to. We don’t even know if we were paid past the advance. It may all have been a lie.”

  “Jac-son, can’t you use some of that Peacemaker muscle to get us some transports?” said Amos.

  “I thought about that, yeah. Cargill can take me back to Karma to requisition every ship docked there, but I think for the long term it will cause more problems than it solves. This is a hell of a chunk of real estate to suddenly advertise.”

  “On the one claw, no, it’s not. On the other, keep it,” Sebastian said.

  “What you mean?” Amos said.

  “This place has no importance. It is a junkyard at the ass-end of space. Nobody wants it. The ships drifting outside are stripped to the gills. No one wants them. You might find bits and pieces of tech. Romero will find a thousand things Humans never thought of, and some of them are tens of thousands of years old. Stop thinking like Humans. You have wealth to buy what you want, but you reinvent it instead and pay more to do it yourselves. It is why other races have concerns about humanity. If you want to save the Blevin and the Zeewie, go to Karma and rent cargo pods like you did to move the nopf’h. Latch them to a scaffold and have Cargill transport them, but if the station is useful to you, keep it.”

  “I’ll be damned! You big, blue, son of a bitch, you had a fix all dis time and watched us spin!” Amos sputtered. “That the longest speech I ever hear you make!”

  “You are my friend, Amos, but because you call me Sebastian and we have joined our fates, you think of me like a Human. I am Xrr’krr’kkt of the Xiq’tal, and my people fought among the stars before humanity crawled from the seas. You seek to do the impossible, and I will help you, because you are my friend and because it is a worthy challenge.”

  Rikki whooped while she and Tikki clapped. Tavvi laughed so hard the floor vibrated.

  “If you need security, Amos, the Crawlers are between jobs. We can sign on. The Blevin won’t give us any trouble.”

  “Da Crawlers?” Amos asked.

  “Do I make fun of Cajuns?” Rikki asked.

  “Not makin’ fun, just never heard you talk about your troop dat way. Till we sort things out, I’d be glad to have you, but since Sebastian figured out how to move everyone, do we really want to? How do we make this place pay for itself?”

  “You can lease the shipyard facilities out to Dad. He never quits complaining about Earth and Luna gouging him for taxes,” Race said.

  “If the mining opportunity is real and you can bring our miners in, the Zeewie would stay, at least until the contract is finished,” said Mix.

  “I’m betting after Raul is done with the ships out there, the recyclables would be worth a pretty penny, handled right,” Remmy chimed in.

  “I can declare the F11 salvage. If you let the Athal broker it, that would cover some of your upfront cost, and that solves what to do with them. I can arrest them, but we don’t have the resources to guard them, and losing a ship is already a steep price for receiving stolen goods,” Rains said.

  “How about defenses? We wrecked the place,” Amos said.

  “Upgrade to a standard point defense system. If you want something bigger, use rail guns. You have plenty of power, and Hope was a mining station. You can make your own ammunition,” Achatina said.

  “I don’t know a thing about running those types of businesses, let alone a space station!” Amos said.

  “I can put you in touch with some Cochkala who can help with that,” Lorm said.

  “And I. Bakulu engineers would welcome an opportunity to work on this type of project, or with Romero and his team. I have friends among the elSha as well,” said Achatina.

  “You could set up the Olympians out here. You have options on Hope that Earth will never let you have,” Nolan said.

  “All right, all right! I don’ know how I get myself into these things. I’ll file all the paperwork and think about all the mud you’re throwin’ at the wall to see if anything sticks. If it don’, well, we get everybody home and turn the lights out, because I ain’t running this place! We gotta find someone with experience with a station,” Amos said.

  “Or a base,” Rains said.

  “Someone who can deal with mercs and corporate contractors,” Rikki said.

  “Someone who has real clout with the new security force,” Tikki said.

  “Someone with ten legs!” Sebastian said.

  “No. No. No!” said Tavvi.

  “Congratulations Administrator Tavvi!” they chorused.

  “You people suck!” complained the Tortantula as the group broke up and moved off to cover their various tasks.

  Amos and Rains remained at the gallery rail looking at the REX.

  “Jac-son, I’m tired. I’m tired of losing friends. I want to go home an’ cook an’ drink too much an’ tell lies about the good ol’ days. I want you an’ me to go play cards in dives and whup da stuff outta the young bucks. We’ll even take dat shit Remmy if he up for a good time. Can we do dat?” Amos said.

  “It’s a date, but you’re going to find someone else to save. It’s what you do; I don’t think you can help yourself.”

  “Probably not, damn you.” Amos laughed.

  Rains put his arm around Amos and gave the older man a squeeze. “Everyone around you is better for it. Look at it this way, Amos, people come to you when they are hurting, and you give them Sanctuary.” He gave a wicked grin. “Now you can give them Hope, too.”

  * * *

  Sanctuary Plantation

  Louisiana, Earth

  The shuttle touched down with a tiny bump on Sanctuary’s new landing pad.

  On the way down from orbit, Amos had called up the satellite images of the place and could see a time-lapse of the work that had been done. Greasy had been busy, no doubt with Marie right behind him to check his work.

  Amos received a report from Greasy but only glossed through it. There was a new landing pad. It looked like the arena for the Olympians had gotten an upgrade and there were guest quarters now. They had done that after Marie had gotten tired of the groups of Olympians being underfoot. A new cookhouse stood where the old one had been, and it looked like Marie might have gone wild with the landscaping. From what he saw, it looked amazing. “Maybe I’ll just go back to cooking and leave Sanctuary to them,” he muttered.

  “Welcome to Sanctuary Plantation. Home of the Ragin’ Cajuns and birthplace of the Armored Olympics. Local time is 5:45 pm and the temperature is too wet and too hot. Please get a move on since I have another run to make. And thank you for flying Air Tia.”

  “Race is a bad influence on dat girl,” Amos said to Rains.

  “You’re his CO,” Rains chided.

  “Who is about to hand him back off to his daddy,” Amos said. “He just young. Too young for us ol’ farts who don’t remember what that’s like, but Nolan’s doing a good job, and Race
is tryin’ hard when his hormones ain’t in da way.”

  “Speak for yourself, I’m still a young man,” Rains said.

  “Uh huh. Bev think you plenty young!” Amos laughed.

  “Hey now!” Rains objected. “We’re friends.”

  “You keep telling yourself dat.” Amos grinned again. “If she don’t get you, BC will!”

  “Amos, leave Jac-son be and come take me down this ramp since you done stuck me in dis damn chair. You can have a set with me and Marie,” Bes said.

  “Sorry, Bes, I got to get Sebastian settled and den there something I got to do. I can’t get caught up in refereein’ you and Marie. You gotta talk to her. You’ve put it off too long already.”

  “Jac-Son?” Bes said hopefully.

  “I can’t, Bes. I’ve got to finish my report to the Peacemakers and then I have to head to Houston to see Hak-Chet. If I can, I’ll be back, but it can’t wait.”

  Bes nodded, knowing what was at stake for Rains. “Good luck, Peacemaker.”

  “We’ll take you down, Aunt Bes,” Remmy said. “Grab her chair, Burton.”

  The Lumar reached down and picked up Bes and her chair, ready to carry her down the ramp.

  “I meant, push her chair for her,” Remmy said.

  “Oh, sorry,” Burton said. He set the chair down, resettled Bes, and took the controls.

  The ramp finished lowering. Crowded around the pad were the Olympians who had stayed behind to track down the men who had attacked Sanctuary, the Cajuns’ extended family, and a group of friends and well-wishers. There were hugs all around, and even Sebastian received friendly thumps on his shell. Sabine ran around with ‘Bastian, enjoying the fuss being made over her. Remmy had fixed up the drone “better than new” after Bes had a talk with him about the presence of a military-grade laser in a child’s toy.