Edge World (Undying Mercenaries Series Book 14) Page 18
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We came out of warp into the 91 Aquarii star system a few hours later. We didn’t bother to hail anyone, or make other friendly gestures.
Dominus was in a decidedly predatory stance. We approached the world in question with our gun-ports hanging open like the mouths of panting dogs. Our missiles were fueled and armed, sizzling in their silos.
For some reason, Fike had posted me up on the bridge to watch the festivities. I’m not sure if that was because he’d liked the initiative I’d taken in chasing the alien invaders around the ship, or if he just wanted someone to blame things on if everything went tits-up. But it didn’t matter much to me, either way. I was glad to be allowed onto Gold Deck without having to make up some kind of pretext.
Captain Merton was commanding the ship, the same as he had done for the battlecruiser Berlin. I’m pretty sure he hadn’t wanted the job, but he hadn’t been given a choice.
Merton was all right in my book, but he didn’t like Legion Varus or Galina Turov. He’d wanted out of the transport business entirely. Unfortunately for him, in the Earth Navy, you took the assignment you were given.
“Sub-Tribune Fike?” Merton said for at least the third time. “Their planetary traffic control is demanding we contact them immediately.”
“Ignore that. It’s just bluster. They’ve got no defensive missile bases, no fleet.”
“Yes, sir… but I must point out that 91 Aquarii is inhabited by over a billion citizens of Province 921. They have rights, sir.”
“They have nothing,” Fike said emphatically. “The Skay think they own them already. To me, they’re on the border. They’re not our citizens, they’re in no-man’s land.”
Captain Merton looked Fike up and down disapprovingly. I thought for a moment he might answer the call anyway, going against Fike. Technically, he was in operational command until the planetary assault phase began.
In reality, however, Fike had all the cards. Turov had proven that to Merton during our last campaign, having him murdered when he went up against her. He’d spent some days on ice after that, as dead as a mackerel. Galina had told me she wanted to give him some time to think things over.
Merton stopped looking at Fike and turned away, eyes front. He shut his mouth, forming a tight bloodless line with it. I could tell he wasn’t happy, but he wasn’t willing to put his balls on the line for a principle—not again.
Fike seemed mildly surprised when the ship’s captain backed down, but he recovered quickly. “We’ll wait until they have something interesting to say.”
Dominus continued to stalk forward. We glided silently, and I knew we must be intimidating to the locals.
Finally, when we were only a million kilometers out and beginning to brake for orbit, we got a different call. This time it wasn’t traffic-control, continuing their dull mantra about regulations and the necessity of clearly stating our intent. Instead, it was a private, encoded transmission from the planet’s surface.
“Sir,” one of the Gold Deck flunkies said, turning to glance first at Merton, then Fike. “Sirs, someone from the surface is hailing us.”
Merton’s face was stone. He stared at the view screens as if he hadn’t heard the flustered ensign. Fike stepped forward into the gap.
“Pipe it up onto the screen. Let’s see what we’ve got.”
A face appeared, bigger than was natural, taking up a meter of the forward wall. She was attractive, but kind of alien-looking. I knew her in an instant. She was one of the Shadowlanders, one of those who’d invaded our ship.
I took an involuntary step toward her. Fike eyed me and put a hand on my shoulder.
“Is this the one? Is this the bitch that dared to attack our ship without provocation?”
Now I knew why he’d let me up here. He’d needed an eye witness.
I shook my head. “I don’t think so. She’s similar, but older. Maybe a relative. Maybe they all look like that—I don’t know.”
Fike nodded. “Good enough. Ensign, open the channel, let her talk.”
The woman’s eyes shifted. They swept over us. She was able to see and hear us now.
“Earth ship,” she said. “You have invaded our space in the manner of a striding warrior, but you are sworn to protect us. Why would you behave in this fashion?”
Fike took center stage, and her cold eyes fell on him. “I’m Tribune Fike. I command this expedition. You people attacked us during our approach. Know that I’ve ordered our shields to be raised. You won’t invade this vessel again.”
The woman looked concerned. “I’m Kattra, and I rule the Shadowlanders. I might be called a queen in your language, although I was elected, not chosen by birth. Hear my words: we did not attack your ship, Fike.”
“Lies!” Fike shouted. He made a pin wheeling motion with his arm. “Send them the video file. Play it live!”
A nervous ensign complied. A sub-screen opened next to Kattra’s looming face which showed three figures—clearly Shadowlanders—swarming and abusing a revival machine. Saurian attendants lay dead at their feet.
“Ah,” Kattra said. “I see there is a misunderstanding. Those agents were sent to repossess what is ours.”
“What? You mean the revival machines?”
“Yes. It is within the scope of our contract to end our lease-agreements at any time. Earth’s government refused our polite requests, so we took it upon ourselves to perform this action. Check your contracts. You will see the matter was agreed to decades ago.”
Fike blinked in confusion. It was possible that the woman was speaking the truth, at least the way she saw things. Hegemony had a zillion contracts with a zillion other worlds to provide valuable alien trade goods like the revival machines. These arrangements were necessarily complex and held in secret.
“We don’t have a copy of any such contracts aboard our ship,” Fike complained.
“Ah—then we are at an impasse. Perhaps if you are still confused, you can wait a dozen of your short days. A committee of Nairbs is coming here, I understand… along with others.”
So, she knew about the Skay. What else did she know? I was intrigued. These Shadowlanders had looked kind of simple from the sparse intel we had on them, but I was beginning to think they were anything but.
Fike was becoming frustrated. “All right. Fine. Explain this action then.”
Another video began to play. We saw an agent killing Galina viciously, then kidnapping her fresh revive shortly afterward with two others.
“Another misunderstanding,” Kattra said. “The female you displayed ignored our demands to return the revival machines, which began before you left Earth. Further, she was engaged in the unauthorized use of one of these machines when my agents arrived on the scene.”
“You mean she used the machines after you killed her?”
“Yes, of course. They were forced to make an arrest.”
Fike was pacing and fuming. “Such bullshit… Where is Galina Turov, you pirate?”
Kattra turned her head to one side, as if hearing a translation. “A pirate… that is an insult, yes? You call us lower beings. You should know we aren’t bandits, not like the bright-siders or the vicious creatures who dwell forever in the dark half of our world.”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever. You’re a frigging pirate all right. A pirate queen. Now, listen to me: you can’t just pop aboard our ship, kill and kidnap our commander, and expect mercy. Prepare to be attacked and conquered if necessary.”
“If necessary? What action on our part might prevent the irrational fit of rage you describe?”
“Return to us what is ours. Immediately.”
The woman turned away, talking to her subordinates off-camera. Finally, she looked back toward us. “Very well. Your talk and threats are brutish, but I think we shall make an effort to appease you. Lower your shields so we can deliver what you require.”
“By teleporting?” Fike asked, thinking it over. “Hold on.”
He turned to the crew. “Can you Fl
eet-monkeys make it so only a small part of the ship is unshielded?”
“We can, Sub-Tribune,” Captain Merton said. “But I would advise against it. They might send up a bomb or something.”
Fike gave him a feral grin. “That will give us all the more reason to destroy them. Expose something we don’t need. The crew quarters, for example.”
Merton made a disgusted face, but he huddled with his officers. He turned back less than a minute later. “It’s done.”
“You hear that, pirate lady? We opened up—”
“Yes, we detected the shift in your shielding. The package has been sent. When you have verified the contents and found them satisfactory, please contact me again.”
The screen went blank.
Frowning, Fike turned toward the crew. “What did they send? Is it Turov? Where is she?”
“We’re scanning for anomalies now, sir… no, it’s not Tribune Turov. The computer isn’t showing her aboard—dead or alive.”
“Well, what the fuck—?”
Captain Merton put up a fat hand. “There’s an energy release. A reading has spiked on deck seven.”
“Deck Seven? That’s the Legion officer’s mess! If you brought a bomb aboard and let them set it off in the middle of my men, Merton—”
I almost laughed, despite the tension of the situation. Merton had made his own interpretation of what a “useless area of the ship” might be. Apparently, he’d decided it was Fike’s own lounge.
“It’s not a bomb. Someone came aboard, and they’re teleporting again now.”
Fike grabbed the captain by the tunic and shouted in his face. Spittle flew. “You spiteful jackass. They’ve sent us a bomb or another agent attack. God only knows what’s next!”
“My actions were taken under your orders!” Merton fired back.
I had to admit, I was going to have to award the point to Merton on this one. Fike was more of a trumped-up primus than a real tribune. His legion was made up of dumb-ass mutants and the like. He’d never been in command of a serious operation that had to deal with something bigger than a single infantry battle on some planet or another. We were now in the realm of diplomacy, negotiations and space battles. Fike was out of his league.
A blue-white glimmer began on the bridge then, and people scattered. Whatever the Shadowlanders had seen fit to send our way, it was popping into existence right in the midst of us all.
The Varus men roared and drew weapons. The Fleet pukes ducked and shrieked.
As I was close to ground zero. I stepped closer. I’d dealt with things like this before, probably more often than anyone else aboard Dominus.
Any kind of teleportation attack was terribly hard to stop. The key to them was surprise. Unless the attack was an automated bomb, it could be dealt with.
I didn’t think it would be a bomb. There hadn’t been much time for the enemy to transport a drone attack aboard and have it be smart enough to port again, coming to our bridge. That sounded like the work of a trained agent. I’d seen such Shadowlanders at work, and I figured I was seeing it again.
When the agent arrived, I was first on the scene with my pistol in her face. I’d once gunned down a full squad of squids who’d invaded Central this way. On other occasions, I’d slaughtered Rigellian bears and even humans. The key was not to hesitate. You had to shoot the enemy down before they could get their bearings and take action.
I knew all that, but still, I hesitated. The Shadowlander was the one I’d seen before. She was the one I’d raged at, the very same alien woman who’d kidnapped Galina only a few short hours before.
By all rights, I could have shot her down. I had every reason and opportunity to do so—but I didn’t. Why not?
Well… she was kind of cute.
“Freeze!” I shouted. My big face, big hand and pistol were all up in her personal space.
“I submit to capture,” she said.
Baring my teeth, I gripped my pistol. The other Varus men circled around, surrounding her with an angry circle of pistols in tight fists.
She looked around slowly, her eyes sliding from side to side. “I will disarm myself,” she said, reaching up slowly and unfastening her teleport harness. It slid away to the deck. Then, she unbuckled her gun belt and let it drop as well. A long dark pistol with a slim barrel clattered on the deck, along with a wicked knife that spilled out of its sheath. Was that the very knife she’d used to murder Galina? I kind of figured that it was.
“All right then,” Fike said, stepping forward and waving his troops back.
They all stood down, except for me. I kept my pistol trained at the agent’s pretty head.
Fike glanced at me, but he didn’t order me to change my stance. Maybe he figured I had the right to be paranoid.
“Identify yourself and… ah…” Fike said.
I knew what the problem was right off. The alien woman hadn’t stopped stripping things off. In fact, she’d opened her tunic, which was kind of like a wetsuit, and she let it peel away from her body. The empty sleeves were flapping below her waist, and she didn’t seem to have a stitch of clothing on under that. Not even a bra—nothing.
“That’s not entirely…” Fike said. He stopped with his mouth hanging open.
The woman was still undressing. She pushed the wetsuit down over her hips, which were kind of skinny, but nice enough to look at. A moment later, she stepped out of her suit as naked as a jaybird.
“Uh…” Fike said. “Why are you stripping down?”
“Tradition. Exchanged captives are always taken nude. There is no other way to ensured they aren’t armed somehow. Isn’t it the same with your people?”
“Well… not always… you can just—”
“Hold on,” I said, putting up a hand. “If I might have a word, sir?”
Fike blinked at me. “What is it, McGill?”
“I strongly suggest that we need to respect her alien culture, sir. This lady operates under different rules than we do. If we don’t take her surrender under her own terms, she might feel free to break other agreements we have with her and her people.”
“What? That’s nonsense.”
“It isn’t, sir. I’ve dealt with a stack of aliens. They’ve got all kinds of weird ideas. It’s best to play along.”
Fike sighed. “All right, whatever. You take charge of her. Transport her to the brig under guard.”
I tried not to grin. “You can count on me, sir.”
Someone snorted nearby. I thought it was Captain Merton. He knew me better than Fike did, so I didn’t take offense. He could think whatever he wanted to. I would declare to anyone who asked that I was determined to protect my ship from this dangerous lady-alien. I’d swear to it, in fact.
Taking the agent by the arm, I turned to go.
“Wait a minute,” Fike said as if something had just occurred to him. “Who are you?”
He was addressing the agent, so she answered him. “I’m Helsa,” she said.
“Does that queen bitch Kattra think giving us a hostage is somehow a valid payment for all that your people have done?”
“It is a beginning, a peaceful gesture. It’s tradition for two powers in dispute to exchange hostages at the outset of negotiations. Is it not the same with your people?”
Fike snorted. “Not for the last thousand years or so. Take her out of here, McGill.”
Helsa stared at Fike as I walked her off the deck. Then she turned her head quizzically to one side as she eyed me. The behavior reminded me of Kattra who’d done the same thing on the big screen earlier.
“Uh…” I said, having a thought. “You’re not by any chance related to Kattra, are you?”
She looked up at me next with those big eyes. “I am. It is she who trained me to kill with efficiency. She’s my mother.”
“Oh…” I said. “Oh shit.”
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Now, to set matters straight, I’ve known and consorted with any number of scary women—but even by my standards, Helsa was a s
pecial case.
“So… you’re like, an assassin, right?”
She had one of those Imperial translators embedded in the bone of her skull, right under her left ear. She listened to it a moment before nodding in agreement. “That would be an appropriate term. Also, heroine, or adjudicator, are titles that come close to the mark.”
“Hmm…” I said, thinking that her people’s idea of a hero must be different than our own. “But you like… kill people, right?”
“Not always. Often, a mission involves the destruction of enemy assets or the gathering of critical intelligence.”
“Okay, so you’re a spy. An agent who works for your mom.”
“Yes! These terms are more accurate.”
Helsa was finely built, which was easy to notice as she was alongside me in the nude. She had a fine way of walking, too. Her nudity didn’t seem to bother her in the slightest, so I didn’t make a big deal out of it, and I tried not to stare too much. She padded along in bare feet like it was the most natural thing in the world.
“Are you an honorable girl? One who’s not likely to try to escape?”
“These questions are in direct conflict,” she said.
“Uh…” I said, puzzling out her words.
“Whoa!” Veteran Daniels exclaimed. We’d reached the elevators by now, where he was still posted to pester people. “Who’s your new girlfriend, McGill?”
“She’s a prisoner, funny-man. I’m taking her down to the brig.”
“That’s the prisoner?” he asked in a disbelieving tone. “Only you could get away with something like this.”
“Like what?”
He made a flippant gesture with one fat hand. “She’s obviously harmless. Yes, I can see she’s an alien. Pretty close to human, but those ear lobes are too long. Her eyes are kind of spooky, too.”
He stepped forward and put his fat hand on Helsa’s wrist. She looked at the hand quizzically.