Ann Aguirre: Havoc

Of all of her people, she relied on Jael most, probably because they felt the same, though she was far from comfortable with the development, and Dred was ready for him to turn on her, as people usually did, but it would hurt if she had to put him down; she didn’t usually let people get that close.

Tam continued, “They also moved as a unit and were clearly taking orders from the one who called them back.”

“Mercs,” Martine guessed. “Highly paid if equipment is a gauge of earning power.”

“Then what the frag are they doing here?” Dred demanded.

Jael wore a somber look. “Cleaning up.”

Tam nodded. “That’s my assessment as well. They’ve been sent to purge the facility.”

She huffed out a breath, trying not to show how rocked she was by that conclusion. Things had been the same inside Perdition for turns now. Dred had no idea what political machinations had resulted in this new crisis, but they had to handle it. The worst part was, even if Queensland wiped out the first extermination crew, the Conglomerate had the budget to send more—more men with heavier weapons and deadlier tech. There was no telling what protocols were in place, however, or how long it would take before funds were skimmed and allotted to this kind of black op. It gave her limited ability to predict how much time they had between strike teams.

“The force fields never came up,” Martine said, looking thoughtful. “It didn’t register at the time, but usually when a supply ship docks, they lock the whole place down.”

Tam paced a few steps—for him, quite a sign of agitation. “No need. They had the manpower to keep us from stealing the ship and taking off.”

Jael wheeled and slammed a fist into the wall above Dred’s bunk. The motion revealed the charred wreckage of his ruined shirt, nothing but smooth skin beneath. She understood how his lack of scars plagued him, a reminder that he wasn’t human and never would be. In front of the others, she didn’t move to his side. Didn’t touch him. But her gaze lingered, silently asking, What’s wrong?

“I’ve been sent on search-and-destroy missions. You go, burn everything down. Usually, it’s because the territory’s in dispute and someone else wants to take possession.”

“They don’t want to use this as a prison anymore?” Martine wondered aloud.

Dred shrugged. “It’s probably getting expensive. They thought we’d kill each other off in a few turns, solve the problem without the Conglomerate’s needing to dirty its hands by reinstating the death penalty.”

Martine bared her sharp teeth. “But we beat the odds, huh? Carved out a little empire in here, so they’re gonna take it back.”

“Sod that,” Jael snarled.

Dred shook her head. “We’ll fight. I don’t know how much good it’ll do, but we know Perdition better than they do. Any schematics they brought are turns out of date.”

“Equipment cannot compensate for cunning,” Tam added.

She wanted to believe he was right, but based on the demolition squad wreaking havoc in Shantytown, his words might be bravado more than fact. “We won’t go out easy. If they let down their guard, we might get a closer look at the ship, see if escape’s an option.”

Tam nodded. “We should keep our plans fluid, but there’s no question we must defend. It’s the only way to survive.”

“Best defense is a strong offense,” Jael said.

Dred raised a brow. “Did you see the heat they were packing?” She turned to Martine. “I need you to delegate five runners to carry word to all the sentries. Tam, circulate among the men and explain things. Ike can help, pull him from tinkering with the Peacemaker. This takes priority.”

“What about me?” Jael asked.

“You’re coming with me. I didn’t see any of Katur’s people in Shantytown, so he won’t know what’s happened. I’m hoping for some cooperation in exchange for the news.”

“Good thinking. They might not be numerous in the Warren, but they’re more trustworthy than Silence or Mungo’s people.”

She grimaced; that wasn’t saying much. “Let’s move.”

The meeting broke up when she deactivated the electronic lock. Dred spied Calypso coming her way and dodged the questions by aiming Tam in the woman’s direction; the spymaster could prevaricate with the best of them. With Jael at her heels, Dred raced back through the barricades toward the air ducts. It wouldn’t take long before word spread among the Queenslanders, and she was relying on Tam and Ike to keep order.

Jael pressed ahead to scout. He gestured for her to move past him, and she went like a shadow, up the metal rungs and into the ducts. Jael pulled the panel shut after them, so nobody wandering close to their territory could easily see where they’d gone. From there it was a straight shot to the slope that led to the maintenance shafts. It was a long climb, and Katur’s watchman met them at the bottom; he’d probably smelled them coming long ago.

“Why are you here?” The small humanoid had a deep voice with a hint of a growl, even when he spoke universal. Their native tongue had more guttural sounds, impossible for humans to reproduce.

“I request an audience with Katur,” she said politely. “You can keep our weapons.”

It was a small courtesy that cost them nothing. Jael was just as dangerous without a shiv, but Katur’s people didn’t know that. The sentry stripped them of their arms, then moved off, after admonishing them to wait. “If you stir, I’ll know.”

“So will everyone else,” she murmured. A wrinkled muzzle and a flash of teeth met what she hadn’t intended as a joke.

Then the guard continued until he disappeared from sight. Jael propped himself against the wall nearby, but she knew it was for a better vantage of the ladder they’d come down. He seldom relaxed all the way; the former merc slept less than anyone she’d ever known, and even when he did, he never seemed to be completely out. A whisper or a stray movement had him on his feet in a heartbeat, ready to fight. While she appreciated his wariness, he wasn’t a restful bed partner.

“It doesn’t make sense,” she muttered, more to herself than him.

“What?”

“If they’re tired of paying our upkeep, why not just blast the place?”

“They want to use the station for something else,” he said. “There’s no other reason to send in a cleaning crew.”

“They want to retrofit again. Clear out the undesirables.”

“And make the place turn a profit, if I had to guess. They might go back to refining minerals. Could also be an emergency station or a research facility for something too dangerous, unethical, or risky to be approved dirtside.”

“The laws are smokier out here,” she said slowly.

“Precisely, love. Whatever they want to use the place for, I guarantee it’s not shiny or clean. Or the squad they sent would be sporting the Conglomerate logo.”

“That doesn’t make me feel any better.”

“It wasn’t supposed to.” He offered a smile with razored edges and dark echoes. “They’re in full assault gear. Nothing short of heavy weapons will penetrate. It’s equivalent to durasteel but lighter and more flexible.”

“Durasteel like the blast doors.”

We have homemade blades and spears.

“Unfortunately, yes.”

Before she could respond, Katur’s guard returned. “He will see you. Briefly.”

“Thank you for the courtesy.” Tam had hammered it into her head that she had to treat each petty despot in here like a foreign dignitary even if she thought it was bullshit.

Dred had to admit, though, that Katur was the least insane of the lot, possibly including herself. But most of his people had been tossed in Perdition not for capital crimes, but for being nonhumans during a time unwelcoming to immigrants. So they had a better, saner group to build with, and their leader was the best of them.