Endless Night (The Guild Wars Book 3) Page 9

  He took a few more steps toward the fight, flinging his arms out to avoid over balancing. He was swaying more than if he were ten pints of Old Growler down at his local with the lads and lasses. He gave up and pushed down on his throttle pedals. The jumpjets ignited and pushed him up and away from the deck, wobbling as uneasily as an early 20th century rocketry experiment. But Jex easily adjusted, leaning forward and pulsing his jets to push him along the passageway, hopping over the melee as gently as a baby sparrow.

  On the far side of the fight, he stopped over the Goka leader issuing orders from the protection of his command squad.

  Jex righted himself until he was perpendicular to the deck, his feet over his target, and roasted the Goka commander with his jets.

  The enemy fired wild shots with their laser pistols, but they were pressed hard against the deck and couldn’t get a decent firing stance. A few shots defected off his canopy, scorching channels, but these were low-powered pistols optimized for shooting between cracks in armor.

  Jex brought his knees up and cut his jets. Twelve gravities reached up and pulled him down to the deck with thundering force, simultaneous with Jex stretching out his legs.

  The Goka commander exploded into a dozen pieces that dripped blue with Goka slime.

  The alien marines came for Jex, stabbing with their blades, but they were too slow, Jex was already airborne once more.

  He glanced at his jump juice status. Twenty percent remaining.

  “Still got some stompin’ left in me, boys. Who wants to be next?”

  He righted himself over the thickest patch of Goka and got ready to squelch more bugs.

  * * * * *

  Chapter Seventeen

  CIC, Pride in Destruction

  Commodore Hashgesh wanted to crawl inside his shell and wait for this to all go away.

  Entropy curse the Goltar! It had to be them who’d emerged from a random patch of vacuum. How had they hidden here for so long? There had been no sign of them. No reports. No sensor returns. They must have lain in wait for…

  Weeks.

  The trap had been set and the bait that was Midnight Sun patiently dangled, waiting for Hashgesh and his flotilla to bite.

  He counted three Goltar battlecruisers, a score of cruisers, a battleship, and the carrier that had already deposited an overwhelming quantity of drones into the battle space.

  His flotilla didn’t stand a chance.

  He looked back with all three eye stalks at Tizomho. Just as surely as the pitiful Veetanho was being crushed by the acceleration, her superior, Lieutenant General Pelwatho, would crush any who failed her, knowing full well that Peepo would crush her if Pelwatho failed.

  “Sir,” said SigCon with calm that shamed Hashgesh. “Midnight Sun is hailing.”

  “Put them through,” Hashgesh replied, dignity back in his voice and posture.

  “Hello again, old snail,” came the voice of Captain Blue behind the logo of her merc outfit, the accursed Midnight Sun Free Company. “I propose a temporary truce while we negotiate.”

  “I accept. Gunnery, hold your fire. SigCon, order all captains to hold fire. Set Truce Condition Two throughout the flotilla.”

  “Let’s stop storming around the black like idiots. Cut your thrust, Hashgesh.”

  Was this a ruse to swing the balance of the boarding operation away from Major Zhiflwt? Hashgesh considered the possibility, but it made little difference. If the Goltar fleet closed, Pride in Destruction would be destroyed anyway. “Complying,” he told Blue. “For now.” He relayed the orders for the flotilla to quench their plasma torches.

  “That’s better,” said the Human. The company logo of the black sun faded away, replaced by a Human face. The Bakulu hadn’t much personal experience with the species, but he thought it odd that the Human’s head was completely hairless. It appeared such a delicate creature to wield such destruction.

  “The Goltar fleet is moving to surround you. I would like you to surrender your ships rather than go through that tedious business of destroying you and killing you and your crew.”

  “I am willing to discuss terms.”

  “No, we are not,” screamed Tizomho. “Press the attack. Midnight Sun must be destroyed. Nothing else matters.”

  “Oh, dear,” said Blue. “I can’t see the pest, but I can hear you’re infested by vermin.”

  “How dare you, Human.” The Veetanho added herself to the outward transmission. Hashgesh permitted the intrusion, for now.

  “As I thought,” said Blue. “You’ve got rats.”

  Tizomho hissed. “Your disrespect for authority is why the guild felt it necessary to take direct control of your home world, Human. Renegades such as yourself and the Four Horsemen only prove the wisdom of the guild’s decision.”

  Idiot Veetanho. What was the wretched creature thinking? “Argue politics in your own time, Tizomho. We are discussing surrender terms.”

  “No. I absolutely forbid it. Attack Midnight Sun, or I will relieve you of command and ensure repercussions for your clan and your family.”

  “I command here,” roared Hashgesh. “You dare contradict me on the deck of my own flagship?” He paused. Even in the face of disaster, Hashgesh was looking for an angle of opportunity. What was it about Midnight Sun that was so important to the Veetanho?

  And how might he profit from that?

  With the Human captain looking on, Hashgesh probed his liaison. “Forgive me, Commander Tizomho, I spoke hastily. Midnight Sun is unusual, yes, but only a single battlecruiser. Her loss would not seriously limit the throw weight of the Goltar fleet. It makes no sense to sacrifice all for the destruction of one small battlecruiser.”

  “Midnight Sun’s capabilities are unique and dangerous. Her destruction is worth the loss of this flotilla and all hands, including me. That’s all you need to know. Now, do the job you’re paid for, or those who survive you will face the consequences.”

  Hashgesh formed a pseudo-pod that he wrapped around the laser pistol affixed to the inside of his shell. “I thought I warned you to never contradict a fleet commander on the deck of their flagship.” He shot Tizomho between the eyes. Her brains steamed out of the wound channel as she slumped forward.

  “Pest control,” he said.

  “I can see.” The Human bared her teeth, but the behavior analysis program in his pinplants interpreted this as a display of amusement. It was called a smile. “I believe we were discussing terms.”

  “We surrender,” said Hashgesh.

  “Not so fast.”

  Hashgesh shrank his body. It seemed the Human had been playing with him all along.

  “You have to understand,” said Blue. “I have authority to negotiate, but I represent the Goltar who can’t seem to break the habit of hiding in the shadows, even now. You yourself negotiate on behalf of your mercenary company, but you work for General Peepo. Peepo and the Goltar. They’re the ones at war with each other. We’re just the intermediaries.”

  “Did you not understand?” pressed Hashgesh. “We surrender.”

  “Oh, and the Goka and Goltar, too. The galaxy has such a lot of old grudges, doesn’t it?”

  “I would rather die with honor then be toyed with by a hunter tormenting its prey. I won’t make this offer again. We surrender.”

  “What I’m trying to say,” said Blue, “is that whether I accept your surrender depends on what you mean by we.”

  “My command. My crew and the mercenary companies we carry.”

  “Which comprise of Bakulu and Zuul. What else?”

  “Goka, Selroth, and Tortantula. And our Veetanho liaisons.”

  “Then I am happy to offer generous surrender terms to yourself, your Bakulu, Zuul, Selroth, and Tortantula personnel, and associated mercenaries. You will not be harmed. You will not be ransomed. You will be paid at regular contract rates to sit out this period of hostility between the Goltar and the Veetanho. Oh, and between the Goltar and the Goka. Never forget the Goka. The Goltar certainly haven’t.
”

  “This is not how it’s done, Captain Blue. You cannot expect me to sacrifice my Goka marines and…” He glanced behind at the corpse of Tizomho. “Our liaisons.”

  “Remember, Commodore, I represent the interests of the Goltar here, but in this I agree with you wholeheartedly.” Her face suddenly reddened, pulsing red blood channels like lightning bolts, transforming her into a demonic creature. His behavior analysis unit gave up and reported the captain he faced was simply inhuman. “You complain of me not playing by the rules,” Blue snarled. “General Peepo and the guild broke the rules when they occupied Earth under false pretenses, framed the Four Horsemen for crimes they did not commit…For the most part.” She smiled again, and this time it was the most frightening thing he’d ever seen. “And it’s not just the Merc Guild. Peepo’s corrupted the other ones, too. Even the Peacemakers seem to have gone into hiding for reasons only known to themselves. The guilds are broken, Commodore. Peepo saw to that. The most ancient law of all now prevails throughout the Union. The weak shall submit to the strong, and I have the power here, Commodore Hashgesh. Surrender on my terms, or not at all.”

  Hashgesh shuddered. Much as he hated the Veetanho, he wished Peepo had moved more swiftly and acted more harshly against the Humans. The race was too dangerous to be allowed to live, but now they were loose upon the galaxy. If Peepo didn’t realize the danger they represented and extinguish their home world, the Humans would never be put back into their rightful place.

  But for Hashgesh, his war with the Humans was over.

  “Very well, I surrender the flotilla on your terms. I’ll pass you to Captain Lausquoo to discuss practicalities.”

  He had more pressing concerns than the Human right now. Major Zhiflwt hailed him.

  Hashgesh blocked his marine commander. For good measure, he also cut the Goka out of all ship systems and locked the CIC down in citadel mode. The two Goka guards by the main door glanced at each other nervously. They clearly didn’t know what was going on, or they would already be shooting, but they knew something was up.

  Hashgesh looked mournfully at the laser pistol in his pseudopod. Against the Goka, it would be useless. How by the Five Stars was he going to survive his own guards? He’d just locked himself in with his own killers.

  The brain augmentations linked to his pinplants were marvelous things. They could summarize multiple data and sensory inputs that would otherwise completely overwhelm the brain’s capacity to process information. It wasn’t foolproof, but sometimes his subconscious could draw upon his augments and feed ideas and information into his higher brain function.

  An artificial memory forced its way to the front of his mind. A memory of a conversation he’d never heard involving the Tortantula trooper who had boarded the ship.

  With one eye directed nervously at the guards, he used his implants to direct a message to the ruined passageway on Deck 14 where the boarders were licking their wounds in a scene of utter carnage.

  “Betty, this is the commander of the ship. We have surrendered, but the Goka have not. I want you to rescue us from our Goka guards in CIC, which is on Deck 7, Frame 14. I’m sending a map.”

  “Why should I help you?” asked the Tortantula.

  “Because I have something juicy to take away the nasty taste of the Goka. I have fresh Veetanho for you to eat.”

  The Tortantula’s response astonished Hashgesh. This Betty asked for permission from her Human commander to take up the offer. But Hashgesh needn’t have worried. Permission was granted and the hungry Tortantula came thundering along the passageways of the ship to his rescue.

  What a day!

  * * * * *

  Chapter Eighteen

  Outside CIC, Pride in Destruction

  Betty enjoyed running at full speed along the wide passageway that led to the locked down CIC, feeling as light as a sucked-out carcass in the gentleness of 0.8G. She charged at the heavily armored portal, knowing even she could not batter through. This was either going to hurt a great deal or she would make a glorious entrance. Since the outcome was not under her control, there was no point at all in worrying about it.

  The doors opened just in time. She burst through, stabbing the Goka near the door with one leg.

  Stupid shiny carapace.

  She didn’t get a clean strike and the bug pinged along the deck like a greased pebble on ice, headed for some frightened Bakulu at their stations. Betty powered through under her considerable momentum and belly flopped onto the next Goka.

  “How are you going to squirm out of that?” she taunted the wriggling creature under her bulk. Taking professional care to keep the fidgeting creature pinned, she stabbed down with her mandibles, piercing the smooth carapace so she could tear off chunks. She’d seen Branco do precisely this to the shell of a hard-boiled egg, and she’d been dying to peel the shell of something more her own size. But the annoying creature was stabbing her with little knives that stung a helluva lot for such little things. So, she sank her fangs into the Goka and sucked at the juices inside.

  It was an unpleasant business—Goka tasted foul—but she needed it dead. Goka were tricky little things, which made them fun to kill.

  Where are you? she wondered of the other Goka when the first one stopped twitching.

  She pretended to busy herself in consuming the peeled Goka, but all the while the band of eyes around her head scanned her surroundings, looking for the inevitable attack.

  Sneaky cheeky!

  The Goka was crawling along the overhead and had almost reached a point directly above her. It fired its laser carbine and then dropped, its stabbing knives out.

  Betty was ready and lurched sideways just in time. The laser beam scorched her flank armor, and the Goka fell onto an empty space on the deck. It recovered quickly from its fall, but Betty was faster still. She pounced on it, stabbing down with three of her limbs onto the top of its shell.

  This time the slimy thing didn’t skim away. Its carapace shattered, and its guts spilled over a wide splatter zone.

  Betty looked around for more things to kill but could only see Bakulu, ready-served in their own shells.

  “Is that it?” she said, half question and half cry of despair.

  “Yes, Betty, ma’am,” said a Bakulu in a blue and yellow-painted shell.

  Betty advanced on the individual and peered down at it with her detail eyes. She’d learned that sometimes when she did this, the creatures she stared at would start to tremble and shake. Then she would know they were lying.

  “That doesn’t seem very likely,” Betty told the Bakulu. “All that panic and for just two little bugs?”

  “Ours is not a mercenary race,” said the Bakulu. “Which is why, as commander of this flotilla, I thank you for rescuing us.”

  “You are Commodore Hashgesh. Correct?”

  “Yes.”

  “You say yours is not a mercenary race, and yet I seem to find myself fighting you fat, juicy mollusks a lot. You even call yourself a commodore. Don’t you think that sounds a little bit military?”

  “I assure you, ma’am, that we Bakulu merely perform a supporting service role for the glorious races accredited by the Mercenary Guild. Races such as yours, ma’am.”

  The Bakulu’s eye-bearing pseudopods were shaking so much they were giving Betty a headache. The creature was surely lying. “I need something to take away the taste of Goka. You would do. Shall I eat you?”

  “Captain Blue gave me a guarantee that Bakulu were not to be eaten. Or harmed. The same is so for Zuul and—”

  “Yes, yes. I know all that. I’m not allowed to eat you so I’m just enjoying your terror instead. But I think you are lying and that might need to be punished. However, I really am hungry, and Goka really do taste vile. I seem to remember a succulent snail mentioning a Veetanho?”

  The Bakulu pointed several pseudopods at a bulkhead. Dumped there was a white, furry Veetanho with a hole burned through her head.

  Betty looked at the Veetanho. Then b
ack at Hashgesh. Compared to the mangy rat, the Bakulu looked so plump in its shell. Eating just one of them wouldn’t do any harm, but there was a principle at stake here. Betty was not an ill-disciplined feral. She was a professional mercenary who could be relied upon to obey orders.

  She forced herself to walk away from the Bakulu commodore and sink her fangs into the Veetanho instead.

  * * * * *

  Chapter Nineteen

  Midnight Sun

  Sun punched the stud for Deck 13. She could have pinlinked her destination, but she craved physicality. Too many good people were being suckered into a virtual existence.

  The elevator obliged by giving her insides a hefty jolt as it rushed to convey its occupant.

  Sun frowned at a security camera above the deck buttons. Despite her reservations, she spoke silently to her sister using pinplants. It was faster and more secure that way. “Of the survivors from the Raknar job, I lost Ripper and Kruse today. I lost one of the new CASPer pilots, too, plus three of Mishkan-Ijk’s Goltar.”

  “Ours is a dangerous business, sister.”

  “We said we would fight alongside the Four Horsemen. For Earth. For the survival of our race. That’s worth dying for. What we did today…I don’t think it has anything to do with Earth. Soon the non-Goltar marines will all be dead, and for what? For an old grudge between two ancient races? We’re mercs, sis. I don’t mind choosing sides and fighting for pay, but we made our choice, and it wasn’t to fight for the Goltar. We should be with the Four Horsemen.”

  “What do you want me to do about it? Let me see now. Oh, yeah. Same thing you always ask me to do. Go order Gloriana and the rest of the fleet to steam at flank speed for Earth and save the day. We’d be heroes for once. We’d be honored with statues, Tri-V dramas, and commemorative mugs. Our past would be forgotten and forgiven. Sorry, sis. This ain’t no fairy tale. I’m not in charge any more than you are. My name’s still at the top of the TO&E for now, but Gloriana owns the company. I can’t tell her what to do.”