David Kantrowitz's Blog, page 8

Reckless Faith VII, Chapter Two

Spoiler alert: This is a new entry for the 7th book in the Reckless Faith series. The prologue can be found here:

https://devonai.wordpress.com/2022/12/15/reckless-faith-vii-prologue/

The medical bay on the Percheron was bright, clean, and well-appointed, offering the highest level of care possible outside of a full hospital. Faen Leodin needed none of it, except for a warm blanket, an IV line full of Ringer’s Lactate, and the sufficient supply of oxygenated air that was already present. It didn’t take her long to regain consciousness, and she was only mildly surprised to find herself faced with humanoids of a species she’d never encountered. At first unable to communicate with them, she was offered a translator earpiece and introduced to the ship’s doctor, a tall, stocky man with blonde hair by the name of Ogden, and Captain Dietrich, a svelte woman with brown hair streaked with gray. A third person, a man with short hair, darker skin than the others, and armed with a pistol, stood near the door and didn’t say anything.

They didn’t offer much information to her, other than to tell her the name of the ship, and didn’t ask a lot of questions, either, until three more people entered the room. There were two women of similar build and complexion, one with black hair falling around her ears, and the other with brown hair down to her shoulders. The third was a man, taller than the others save for Ogden, with short brown hair. They spoke quietly with Ogden and Dietrich, then turned to face her.

“Miss Leodin,” began Dietrich, “This is Commander John Scherer of our companion ship, the Reckless Faith, Arianna Ferro, and Evangeline Adeler. We’d like to talk to you about what happened here, and how you ended up in that escape pod.”

“You can call me Faen,” she replied. “I am, or I was, an engineering apprentice on the Valorous, a battleship of the New Rakhar Empire. We were attacked by strange aliens I’ve never seen or heard of before. They seemed to be out of phase with our reality, as they were glowing, translucent, and impervious to any of our weapons. They floated with seemingly little effort, at times passing right through bulkheads as they silently and methodically wiped out my entire crew. I survived long enough to realize that they couldn’t detect a person if we remained motionless, so I used that tactic to avoid them and made my way to the escape pod.”

“What did these aliens look like?”

“They’re hard to describe. Like a flat fish, with wide fins on the sides of their bodies, and a long tail that ended in a sharp point. There were also little appendages on the sides of their mouths, though they didn’t speak nor did they seem to be breathing. They floated upright, with the broad side of their bellies as the front, and their heads hunched over like a stubby reptile.”

The woman named Evangeline was visibly disturbed by this description, and glanced at her friends with concern. The man named John pulled out a PDA, and a moment later displayed an image to her.

“Did it look like this?” he asked.

A flash of fear washed over her, and she nodded. “Yes. I mean, not exactly, but quite a bit.”

John showed the others the image. “Stingrays. What kind of weapons did they have?”

“None that I could see. They attacked with a bolt of electricity that seemed to come from the center of their chests. It proved quite deadly.”

“Eva?”

“I’ve never heard of anything like that,” the woman said. “They sound a little bit like the Kira’To, though as I told you I never got a good look at one. Faen, are you familiar with the Kira’To?”

Faen shook her head. “No. There was one other thing, I encountered one of them on my way to the pods. It didn’t kill me; instead, I think it probed my mind. I don’t know if it was trying to learn something about me or what. Perhaps it let me live so that I could warn others, I don’t know.”

Arianna said, “Curious. If they knew you were the sole survivor, it may have been just that.”

“What do you know about the attack?” asked John.

Faen shrugged. “Nothing. I’m a Mongrel, a half-breed, shunned by both the Rakhar and the Kau’Rii. My role on the ship was nothing more than a highly-skilled servant. Though my fellow engineers were at least respectful of me, they never shared any information with me. It was like that the entire time I was assigned to the Valorous; all I can tell you is that we were in a battle several weeks ago, which was as far as I know a standard engagement with other near-peer adversaries.”

Arianna barked a laugh. “Near-peer. Okay.”

“That’s the term they used,” Faen said flatly. “Obviously, whoever we were fighting back then wasn’t stingrays or Kira’To or whatever you said. Conventional foes, if you prefer. Anyway, I don’t know where we were then, and I don’t know where we are now. I’ve never known the mission of the Valorous or where we might be, except once or twice when I overheard it.”

John said, “The second to last fight was at Eniph, or Epsilon Pegasi. We’re currently at Sadal Biham, or Theta Pegasi.”

“You might as well be speaking gibberish; I don’t know this part of the galaxy. But thank you for telling me.”

“How did you end up on the Valorous?”

Faen gestured toward an empty mug on the table by her bed. “Can I get another one of these drinks?”

“You liked it?” asked Ogden. “I’ll fetch you another one.”

The doctor exited into the corridor. John found a chair, turned it around, and sat down with his arms crossed over the back. “Go on.”

“Every aspect of my life, ever since I was ripped from my mother’s arms at the age of nine, has been dictated to me by the Rakhar. It was at that age that my lineage could no longer be denied; she had attempted to pass me off as a Kau’Rii, until I simply grew too large in size. I was compelled to take a genetic test, and the truth was known: my father was Rakhar. I know nothing about him, other than that my mother referred to him as a ‘mistake.’ I was placed in a school for children with learning disabilities, either from genetic abnormalities or injuries. There, I was at least treated with basic dignity, which allowed me to study subjects far beyond the rudimentary education that was offered. I wanted to escape that life, so I studied engineering and starship propulsion. Despite overall distain for what I was, when I became an adult, my aptitude earned me a job on the Valorous. That was five years ago.”

“Where are you from?”

“Sadachbia IV.”

“Christie, are you listening?”

“Yes,” said Christie’s voice. “That star name matches Gamma Aquarii, about 73 light-years from here.”

“Is that planet under Rakhar control?”

Faen said, “No, but the Rakhar comprise over half the population, and have entire enclaves left to their own governance.”

“I see. Faen, we have technology on our ship that could allow us to access your memories of the alien attack, if you’ll consent to it. It might prove useful to us to help figure out who or what they are, and why they attacked your fleet.”

“I suppose I won’t mind, if it’s harmless.”

“It is. Our ships are going to spend some more time here doing scans. After that, we can take you wherever you’d care to go within about five hundred light-years.”

Faen sighed. “The Valorous was the closest thing to a real home I’ve had in over twenty years. Where would I go? I have nothing, I know no one.”

“You can stick with us for a while,” said Eva. “You don’t have to decide right now.”

“There’s one more thing,” said John. “You should know that the fleet has been utterly neutralized. You may be the only survivor.”

Doctor Ogden came back to the medical bay with a fresh cup of the sweet and aromatic hot beverage that she liked. He placed it on her bedside table. She picked it up carefully and inhaled the steam.

“I didn’t want any of them to die,” Faen began, “but I won’t shed any tears, either. I only feel bad for their families. Do you have any idea what we were doing at this planet?”

“It was an invasion. Though I hate to say it, from our perspective, you were the bad guys.”

She sipped her drink. “Who do you represent?”

“We represent the interests of both our own planet, known as Terra, as well as any other world that may be oppressed or in danger, if we think we can make a difference.”

“Ironic, then, that the Rakhar always made themselves out to be a stabilizing force in the galaxy. I’m sure the residents of this planet would disagree.”

“You never know. Sometimes an invasion force can be greeted as liberators, if they’ve run off someone even worse. Sadal Biham, however, was already at peace, as far as we know.”

Faen shivered, and put the mug back on the table, lest she spill it. “Commander Scherer? Captain Dietrich?”

“Yes?” asked Dietrich.

“We should leave this solar system. Now. They’re out there, watching us. I can feel it.”

__________

John, Ari, and Evangeline arrived back on the bridge of the Faith. Ray and Dana were there, and greeted them, and Dana waited for John to summarize their visit to the Percheron. She had news of her own.

“We’ve received a message from the Fox,” she began. “Text only. They forwarded us a classified ad from the ‘net from Vastus. They’re looking for capable ships to dispose of radioactive waste from the Saffron Canyon facility. The Fox won’t be participating, they just thought we should know.”

“I hope they know what they’re doing,” said Eva. “Physical danger aside, there’s something very wrong about that place.”

“Unless you want to monitor the situation, there’s little we can do to help. The Percheron isn’t equipped to handle material like that, and the Faith could only carry a small amount in the engine room, due to the ad hoc lead shield that Christie installed. And that’s assuming we could find a safe way to put it there in the first place.”

“We’ve got bigger problems right now,” said John. “Christie and our new guest are down in the orb room now; hopefully we’ll be able to glean a few more useful details from Faen’s mind about what happened here. Where are Richter, Devonai, and Zukova?”

“The situation around the planet hasn’t changed, so they went down to the galley to resume their Canasta marathon.”

John stared at the dark fleet that floated ominously outside of the windows. “That’s fine for now. After Christie and Faen are done, I’d like to arrange a mission to the Valorous, to see if we can access their records and sensor logs. I’ll figure out who from the Percheron I want to come with us and run it by Dietrich. Then, we can head over to the colonized moon and see what’s going on there. Any progress on the satellite grid?”

Ray said, “None. It seems to be impenetrable. Dana and I have been doing visual scans, and were able to spot several aircraft or ships at high altitude, just below the satellites. Zee also took us around to take a look at the night side of the planet; all their cities are still lit up as one would expect. Our best guess is that the population is fine, but totally cut off.”

John saw a flash, and pointed at the planet. “Did you see that?”

“I did,” replied Dana.

She zoomed the HUD on the main screen to that location. A ship was there, below the satellites. As they watched, it fired a projectile at one of the satellites, which detonated seconds later, with no apparent effect.

“I guess that answers the question of whether or not the residents of Sadal Biham installed the grid,” said Ari. “They’re trapped.”

“I wonder if the aliens thought they were allied with the Rakhar fleet, or one and the same,” said Dana.

“That might explain the grid,” said John. “It could be a punishment for some sort of transgression against them.”

Christie entered the bridge, wearing an expression of exasperation.

“This is so fucking weird,” she said, and sat down.

“Success?”

“I’m not sure. Faen’s memories mostly back up everything she told us. There are two things that I can’t figure out. One, is the way she processed the image of the aliens. There’s isn’t a direct path from her optic nerve to the brain; the signal passed through the part of her brain that processes imagination and creative thought before an image was generated. It’s always been the foggiest part of mucking around inside someone’s head, distinguishing imagination from reality, and here it was that much more confusing. The best I can tell you is that the resultant images, which match what she told us, are a construct of her own mind. That’s not to say it was all in her head, quite to the contrary. The brief lightning bolts that killed her crewmates, and everything else that happened, were very much real. Strange at it is, I’ve seen this sort of thing before, with Evangeline.”

Eva went pale. “Me?”

“I never told you, and for that I owe you an apology, but I accessed your memories from when Aquila escaped the reactor on the Eagle. It was the same situation then; whatever you saw was processed by your imagination before creating a palpable image. I think these aliens are the Kira’To, and their strange way of interacting with our plane of existence causes our brains to try to interpret what they see the best they can. If I’m right, it’s different for everyone.”

Eva began to cry. “Your worst nightmare.”

“Somebody go get Richter,” said John. “What was the other thing, Christie?”

Ray stood up and exited the bridge to the central corridor.

“You remember that Faen said one of the aliens touched her? One of the most important parts of accessing someone’s mind that I figured out is how to sort memories chronologically. When the alien touched her, she re-experienced something like ninety percent of her life in that instant, refreshing the memories with perfect clarity. If the alien was able to record that information, then it would make for an effective interrogation, given enough time to sort it all out.”

“If they did that with anyone else, then they’d have a pretty good idea of what the Rakhar were doing here. Then they’d also know that Sadal Biham wasn’t allied with them.”

Ray returned with Richter. Eva leapt up and embraced him.

“I’m okay,” she said. “It’s just raw emotion.”

“I understand,” said Richter.

“Where is Faen now?” asked John.

Christie said, “She wanted more rest, so I gave her access to my quarters.”

“Okay. Based on what you’ve discovered, can we trust her?”

“Absolutely.”

Eva released Richter and turned to face the others. “I don’t think going to the Valorous is a good idea. We have no idea if these aliens are still on board or in the area. Our invisibility shields may be the only thing keeping us from being attacked right now. The Rakhar’s weaponry is powerful stuff, if we encounter these things ourselves, what makes you think we’d fare any better than they did? They could wipe out the boarding party, figure out how to circumvent our shields, and we’re dog meat.”

Ari said, “Sounds like another solo job for me, then.”

John nodded. “Eva is right. Sending Ari is a better option. However, there’s no guarantee they’ll be hostile toward us. Knowing the Rakhar, they breezed over diplomacy and provoked the battle. And if they are Kira’To, they’ll probably recognize Eva and open up a dialogue.”

“So what then,” began Ray, “drop our shields and see if they make contact?”

“I wouldn’t go that far, at least not right now. Let’s continue to gather information on the sly and see what we come up with.”

“Christie,” said Ari, “You mentioned Faen is an engineer. Were you able to find out the location of the nearest airlock to the bridge of the Valorous?”

“Yes,” she replied. “There’s one quite close on that deck, it shouldn’t take you too long to get there.”

“Okay. I could be ready to go in about fifteen minutes, if that’s the consensus.”

“I think it is,” said John. “Any objections?”

“You already know how I feel,” said Eva. “Still, we should be ready to bug out in an instant.”

“Oh, we’ll be gassed up with our feet on the pedal. I’ll call the Percheron and let them know the plan. Ari, good luck.”

Reckless Faith VII, Chapter One

Spoiler alert: This is a new entry for the 7th book of the Reckless Faith Series. The prologue can be found here:

https://devonai.wordpress.com/2022/12/15/reckless-faith-vii-prologue/

It was a warm and rainy evening in Tyndareus, and Captain Reveki Kitsune was hot underneath her waterproof jacket. She, along with Cane Venator and Miriam Colchester, were watching as the Fair Haven, a large cargo ship, was being offloaded in the yard of a gigantic warehouse at the edge of the city. Also watching, with barely-concealed boredom, were Sam and Dalia Parmenter, a brother and sister team of native Matesians and the newest members of the Fox’s crew.

They would soon be at the end of their fifth mission as proper freelancers, which was to escort the Fair Haven from Matesia to Dellal IV. Though it was a mundane task from their perspective, the company that owned the cargo ship was rightly concerned about its safety after so much recent upheaval in that part of the galaxy. In addition to the nebulous threat from the Rakhar, the Dellal system itself had recently seen a change in its ruling faction, and while that transition had gone relatively smoothly, some opportunistic criminals had taken advantage of the reformation to prey on trade vessels. After the Solar Confederation of Cygnus had been dissolved, it wasn’t so risky for folks like them to enter the system, and the new government of Dellal had been slow to reach the same level of security.

The crew of the Fox had received permission from the storage company to leave their ship there for a few hours, so they could visit the city proper, do a little bit of exploring, and have a meal. They stood on the pavement, watching as anti-gravity skids were towed by workers from the Fair Haven and into the building two at a time. Armed guards also stood watch, standing outside near the shipping and receiving office. Vecky’s stomach growled at her as she observed the activity, and something else that was gnawing at her subconscious finally found a voice.

“Does something seem off to you?” she asked Cane.

“Yes,” he replied. “The guards have plasma rifles. Seems like overkill to me.”

“That, and the warehouse guys aren’t talking to each other, and they keep glancing over at the guards.”

“Do you think we’re watching a heist go down right under our noses?”

“Maybe.”

Cane nodded. “I’ll see if I can sneak a glance inside the office, perhaps there’s somebody in there who can confirm everything’s okay.”

“Fine. Be careful.”

Cane headed back toward the Fox, doubtlessly planning on taking a circuitous route to the building. On the left side of the yard, there were several old shipping containers, so she imagined he shouldn’t have too much trouble making it over there undetected.

“Something wrong?” asked Miriam.

“Possibly. Do you have your pistol?”

“Of course.”

“Sam? Dalia?”

The siblings nodded yes.

“I’ve got my carbine here under my raincoat,” added Sam.

“Good. If the shit hits the fan, Colchester and I will take cover behind that container over there. You two head for the landing struts of the Fair Haven.”

“We’ll be ready,” said Dalia.

A few minutes later, Cane’s voice could be heard over their comms, speaking softly.

“Hey,” he began, “There’s a guy bound and gagged in the office here, with another guy guarding him. I haven’t been spotted.”

“Take him out,” replied Vecky.

“The hostage, or the guard?”

“Quit joking around. Give us ten seconds.”

“Understood.”

Vecky spoke to the others. “Get ready.”

She bladed the right side of her body away from the guards, and unsnapped the retention strap on her holster. Miriam did the same. Moments later, the unmistakable boom and whooshing sound of Cane’s fusion pistol was heard. The guards turned to look toward the tremendous crash, and Vecky and the others opened up on them. Her Liberator pistol barked, and Miriam’s ancient Earth pistol deadened her right ear with its loud report. Without waiting to observe any results, she and Miriam sprinted to the left, and Sam and Dalia to the right. After they’d taken cover, she peeked around the corner of the container. Their fusillade had felled one guard, another had been hit and struggled to bring his rifle to bear, and the other two ran back toward the shipping office. A brilliant blue bolt hit one of them, rending his arm from his body, and the last man redirected himself toward the containers. Sam’s carbine cut down the man who was still trying to shoot.

Cane’s voice came in over the radio. “There’s one guy left, he went west toward the containers.”

“We saw him. Get over there and watch for crossfire. Penrose, are you watching all of this?”

Vecky motioned for Miriam to stay put, then she crept around to the opposite side of the container.

“I’m here,” said Penrose’s voice.

“Scan the area, see if you can spot that fourth man.”

“Sure, he’s running as fast as he can toward the fence line to the west. Do you want me to take him out?”

“No, let him go. Everyone else, head to the shipping office. Stay sharp.”

The group reconvened on the right side of the containers, and moved cautiously toward the main building. The other three combatants were dead, and a couple of warehouse workers crept out from behind pallets. Sam and Dalia collected the weapons on the ground and searched the corpses, while Vecky and Cane went inside the office. A native Dellalian inside, bound and gagged, huddled in a corner behind his desk. Cane’s first shot had blown out a side window and painted the wall with his captor. Vecky retrieved a small knife and set to work cutting the plastic zip-ties that bound the man’s ankles and wrists. When she was done, he pulled the rag from his mouth.

“Thank the Core,” he gulped, and unsteadily rose to his feet.

“What was their plan?” asked Vecky.

“They were going to wait until you left, then load some of the cargo onto their own ship.”

“You don’t have any security guards here?”

“This sort of thing has never happened here before. I would have called the authorities if they hadn’t jumped me so quick.”

“I’ll bet you’ll hire some now, right?” asked Cane.

The man looked grimly at the blood and viscera on the walls and floor. “That and a cleaning crew.”

Vecky and Cane continued to ask a few cursory questions, but didn’t get much more out of the man. They headed back outside, just in time to see several armed and armored people come down the ramp of the Fair Haven. Behind them, standing at the top of the ramp, was a Kau’Rii wearing a flight jacket and a cap. They recognized him to be Captain Fyr.

“Better late than never,” muttered Cane.

“The contract didn’t say anything about a ground battle. I’ll be sure to correct that next time.”

“Captain Kitsune,” Fyr began, “Our sensors detected a craft departing from nearby, its IFF indicator was off. I think we can assume that the rest of those pirates are leaving.”

“Probably.”

“I’d like to extend our contract to include our departure and entry into FTL, just to be sure they don’t get any other bright ideas.”

“Fine. We’re going back to the Fox, let us know when you’re ready to leave.”

“Will do.”

Heading back toward their ship, Vecky pressed a key on her PDA. From one of the lower airlocks, a set of stairs descended, and her group boarded. After stopping by the armory so Sam could drop off his rifle, they made their way to the bridge. Penrose greeted them, and Vecky gave him a quick update.

“Why did you let the last guy go?” asked Sam.

Vecky sat in the command chair. “We want a good reputation for clients, and also a reputation among pirates and other thugs not to mess with us. The Fox is a rare design out this way, so it shouldn’t be too hard for them to identify us even if we’re not running IFF.”

“Cunning.”

“I hope so. Damn, I hope they’ll be ready to go soon, I’m dying for a meal.”

Dalia said, “Will we be coming back here after the Fair Haven goes light? I was really hoping for a chance to explore Tyndareus.”

“The Fox burns too much fuel breaking atmo to justify coming back. Compensation for that extra fuel was built into the contract with the Fair Haven, but doing it again would be on our own dime. The plan is still to purchase a shuttle when we can afford one; for now, landing on a planet should be avoided.”

“Gotcha.”

“If somebody wants to get started on a meal while we’re waiting, it would be much appreciated. Oh, and Penrose, anything on the local marketplace of interest?”

“Nothing yet,” he replied. “Do you want to head back to Matesia?”

“I’d rather find a client here, it would be more efficient. Once the Fair Haven departs, we’ll place a post on the marketplace advertising our availability. Hopefully someone will need our services within the next few days.”

Miriam peered at her computer screen. “I took the liberty of casting a wider net just to see what’s out there. Vastus has an interesting ad up; I’ll send it to your console.”

Cane asked, “Do you really think Vastus would hire us for anything after what happened there?”

Vecky read the post before replying. “I doubt it. They’re looking for ships to help dispose of a massive amount of radioactive waste. The ad says ships must be capable of safely hauling material with a gamma emission level of 5000 parhet per second.”

“That’s insane, you’d need several centimeters of element 82 shielding to transport that. Typically one would use a specialized outboard container like the one full of 21084 that we and the Bellatrix ‘acquired’ from that Matesian freighter. There aren’t a lot of ships that can safely store shit like that in an internal cargo hold. Anyway, I think we can guess where that material came from.”

“They’re finally cleaning up the old Saffron Canyon research facility.”

“Yup.”

“I hope they know what they’re doing. There was something very weird about that place, never mind the fact that the amount of radiation being generated from the accident defied any conventional explanation.”

Cane shrugged. “Meh. It’s not our problem anymore. The crew of the Reckless Faith might want to see what’s going on there, though. We should at least send them a heads-up.”

“I’ll do that.”

“We’re receiving a message from the Fair Haven,” said Miriam. “They’re ready to go.”

“About time! I’m starving.”

__________

After an uneventful journey, the Reckless Faith and the Percheron had arrived at Sadal Biham. As instructed by John, both ships had dropped out of FTL at the heliopause of the solar system, about 100 AU from the star. At that distance, Theta Pegasi was barely distinguishable from the starfield. On the bridge of the Faith were John, Ari, Christie, Dana, Ray, Richter, and Evangeline, and Milly was piloting the ship. John had his feet up on the console, and Friday dozed peacefully in his lap. A comm channel was open between the ships.

“Percheron, activate your invisibility shield,” said John.

“Wilco,” said Dietrich.

“Christie, give us a run-down on the system.”

“Of course,” Christie replied. “The planets are as follows, outermost first.  Theta Pegasi V is a rocky planet at 28 AU, no known colonies or industry. IV is a gas giant at 18 AU, with one major moon and twelve minor. III is a larger gas giant at 6 AU, with four major moons and over two dozen minor. One of them, IIIC, has been fully terraformed and is allegedly under the control of Sadal Biham. II, Sadal Biham itself, is a terrestrial world at 2 AU. I is a rocky world at 0.5 AU, and is very similar to Venus.  The star is a young main-sequence type, A2V classification.”

“Thank you. Percheron, proceed at 32 c to Sadal Biham, and stay frosty.”

“Understood,” replied Dietrich.

“Zukova, let’s go.”

“Roger,” she began. “ETA is 25 minutes.”

Ray said, “I bet the Percheron’s crew is jumping out of their own skins, so close to arriving at an inhabited alien world.”

Ari nodded. “It is quite the rush, isn’t it?”

“Let’s just hope nobody over there gets an itchy trigger finger,” added Richter.

The crew talked about unimportant matters as they traveled, with Dana interrupting them about fifteen minutes later.

“I’m receiving a transmission,” she began. “It matches one of the known universal distress calls.”

“It’s coming from a vessel 40 AU from us, 30 degrees above the ecliptic,” said Christie.

“No reason not to check it out,” said John. “Percheron, you’re on us. Increase your velocity to 80 c and your following distance to ten thousand klicks. Keep your eyes peeled.”

“Copy that,” said Dietrich.

Soon, they had visual contact with the craft. It was so small, Milly almost overshot it.

“It’s an escape pod,” said Christie. “One soul aboard. It’s of unknown manufacture, sub-light only engines. The life sign is 50% Rakhar and 50% Kau’Rii. Life support systems are failing, if we’re going to do something we need to do it fast.”

“A combination of those two species?” asked Eva. “I thought such a thing was impossible.”

“It could be a sensor error.”

“What do you want to do, boss?” asked Milly. “Dock with it or bring it into the cargo bay?”

“It could be a trap,” said Richter. “I wouldn’t bring it aboard.”

“I’m not reading anything that could be considered a weapon signature,” said Christie. “If the propulsion system overloads, however, it could cause some damage.”

“Okay,” began John. “Percheron, we may have a casualty in need of medical care. I want you to dock with the pod, and use one of the Snoopies to check it out before you send any crew inside.”

“Understood, we’ll make it happen,” replied Dietrich.

Several minutes later, the Percheron called back.

“This is Doctor Monroe. We’ve recovered a female feline humanoid that matches the description of either a Rakhar or a Kau’Rii, we’re not sure which. She’s unconscious but otherwise uninjured. We’re moving her to our medical bay for observation. We’ve also recovered everything on board the pod, which is mostly emergency rations and medical supplies. According to our computer, the writing on those items is in Rakhar.”

“Roger,” said John. “Let us know when she’s awake and talking. Keep a guard on her in case she gets any wise ideas. We’ll leave the pod here and resume our course to Sadal Biham.”

Dietrich said, “Understood, commander. Percheron out.”

“Zee, as soon as they’re done jettisoning the pod, let’s go.”

Ten minutes later, Milly pulled back the throttle and brought them slowly toward the planet. Immediately, something about its appearance seemed off. Like any other habitable planet, it was cast mostly in blotches of blue, green, brown, and white, but it also appeared to have a silvery sheen.

“There was a battle here,” said Christie. “I’m reading all the usual indicators; ionized gas, leaked fuel, debris, and an unknown number of ships in a powered-down state.”

“Proceed with caution.”

As they drew nearer, a shocking panorama coalesced before their eyes. Dozens of ships ringed the planet in high orbit, accompanied by a vast field of debris. The ships were in various states of destruction, from nothing but large pieces to some that didn’t seem to have any damage at all. The silver appearance of the planet was due to a tight net of thousands of small satellites in geosynchronous orbit.

“What the hell happened here?” breathed Dana.

Christie said, “Several of the ships are a match for the Rakhar fleet we fought at Eniph, including the Valorous. I’m not reading any life signs yet; we’ll have to do a closer pass through that mess to be sure.”

“What do you make of that grid of satellites?” asked Ray.

“Well,” Christie furrowed her brow. “That’s odd. The NDSS is returning a reading on an… NDSS.”

“What do you mean by that?” asked Eva.

“As in, that’s what the satellites are, a Neutrino Doppler Scanning System. That can’t be right. I’ll run a diagnostic.”

“There’s something else,” began Dana. “Thousands of pieces of debris are being pulled into the gravity well of the planet, but we’re not seeing anything burning up in the atmosphere. There should be visible meteors even at this distance.”

John said, “Zee, take us in for a closer look. Mind the junk.”

Dana peered at her monitor. “Whoa. Pieces are skidding off the atmosphere at the Karman Line and back into low orbit, like skipping a stone across the surface of a lake. Here, I’ll show you.”

Dana put a close-up image of the planet on the main screen. As she had described, debris was bouncing away from the upper atmosphere, just before reaching the altitude of the satellites.

“Any communication traffic from the planet?”

“None.”

“I figured out what’s going on with the scanner,” began Christie. “The emitted neutrino is being reflected back at us at exactly the same vector, so the stream is encountering the first thing it thinks it hit, our own NDSS.”

“It seems the purpose of the satellite is to keep both ships and signals out,” said Ari.

“It does seem like that,” replied John. “I’d like to try getting through, but I’m not willing to risk either the Faith or the Percheron without more data.”

Dana said, “My guess is that we’d carom off harmlessly, but yeah, I’d rather not find out otherwise.”

“Christie, see if you can find a match for the satellites in the database just based off their appearance.”

“I already have,” she said. “They’re of unknown design or origin.”

Richter said, “So an unknown force obliterated the Rakhar fleet, and then installed a satellite network that repels both ships and signals? The most obvious answer is that the residents of Sadal Biham themselves are responsible.”

“That doesn’t match what we know about those people. They’re active in galactic trade, not xenophobes. And our intelligence indicates they were absolutely not capable of repelling the Rakhar fleet.”

“Maybe they took the Rakhar invasion as a sign that they needed to isolate themselves.”

“Possibly,” said John, resting his chin in his hand. “Let’s not speculate too much until we’ve had a chance to talk to that person we found in the escape pod. I think she may be the sole survivor of this massacre.”

“There’s also the colony on SB IIIC,” said Ray.

“Yes, we’ll want to investigate that, too.”

“I’m receiving a signal from the Percheron,” said Dana. “Our errant refugee is awake and alert.”

“Good timing. Signal them that we want to withdraw back to the heliopause, then dock. I’m sure we all have a million questions for this lady.”

Reckless Faith VII, Prologue

Spoiler alert: This is the beginning of the 7th book in the Reckless Faith series

December 25th, 2030

Though the Percheron was a fine ship by any standard, Captain Cynthia Dietrich was particularly proud of it, as it was Earth’s first official spacecraft capable of interstellar travel. She stood on the bridge, a bright, clean space at the bow of the ship. Its sweeping canopy allowed for a great view of space, and at the moment, Saturn, around which they were in orbit. The ship had just undergone the first test of its FTL drive system, traveling from Earth to the ringed planet in mere seconds. This was a satisfying conclusion to two weeks of shakedown after the Percheron had been launched.

Present with her on the bridge, in addition to her own command staff, were several crewmembers of the Reckless Faith, including its commander, John Scherer. They were, of course, mostly to credit for the Percheron’s existence, though it couldn’t have been constructed so quickly without the assistance of both NASA and the US Space Force. Indeed, both organizations were represented in its crew, with Dietrich herself a colonel in the Space Force prior to accepting command of the vessel.

The Percheron was essentially a carbon-copy of the Reckless Faith, though it was 50% larger, and boasted more weaponry. The number of crew quarters had been increased from six to fourteen, and in addition to more cargo capacity, it also had a full medical bay. The two fifty-caliber GAU 19/A turrets on the Faith had been supplanted by four twenty-millimeter GAU 4/A turrets, though their massive size made them slower to traverse and elevate, and it shared the same GAU 8/A thirty-millimeter cannon, plasma cannon, and laser banks of the Faith installed for the same applications. A new addition to the Percheron was a partially-articulated GAU 13/A installed aft, a four-barrel version of the GAU 8/A, as well as a small shuttle, capable of carrying fourteen people.

Though it shared the same defensive systems as the Faith, and would have made a formidable warship compared to what they had encountered out in the galaxy, its top speed was limited to 2500 c by its Cooper fusion engine, fueled by uranium hexafluoride, much slower than its predecessor. Because of this, it would take them a little over twelve days to reach the destination of their first mission, Sadal Biham, also known as Theta Pegasi, at a distance from earth of about 92 light-years. The drive might be upgraded someday to an Umberian design like the Faith, fueled by a particular meta-state of neptunium, if they ever encountered enough of the rare material to do so. For now, once they got where they were going, it would be plenty fast for their purposes.

The crew was just as impressive as the ship itself. Captain Dietrich was the first to be selected, then she was given final say with choices for the other thirteen members. One hundred and fifty people were involved with the Percheron project, and most of them wanted a slot, so it was difficult for her to choose. Three of the selections were a bit easier, as Scherer had insisted that any ship accompanying them anywhere had to have at least that number of skilled warriors on board. Even then, there were twenty applicants from the Space Force with significant combat training. Chance Richter had helped her choose three.

The other ten were a combination of engineers, astrophysicists, pilots, scientists, and medics, with five from the Space Force and five from NASA. The latter group had been granted military rank to more efficiently integrate them with the command structure of the ship, though all but one had simply been made 2nd lieutenants. Only the most experienced engineer had been granted a higher rank, major, so he could better manage the other engineers, and always have a seat at the captain’s table.

In addition to the ship’s construction and extensive testing of its systems, the new crew was also required to spend dozens of hours reviewing mission logs and on-board footage of the Faith’s many adventures. It served to illustrate quite well what the Percheron’s crew was signing up for, but it didn’t result in anyone giving up their slot, despite how dangerous several of those missions proved to be. Dietrich and the other pilots had also been given several hours of flight training through the use of the Faith’s orb simulations, though no one could be sure that they had managed to accurately approximate the handling characteristics of the Percheron until the ship was actually constructed. Fortunately, Christie Tolliver had gotten it mostly right, and the gleeful destruction of scores of innocent asteroids as gunnery practice proved it.

Another thing that set the Percheron apart from the Faith was the passive orb that was the brain and nerve center of the ship. Though Christie could interface with it, she wouldn’t be present the vast majority of the time, and the crew could only monitor and interpret systems with computer consoles and their Mark I eyeballs. Still, should the Percheron survive a particularly damaging engagement, Christie could visit to more effectively diagnose and manage repairs. They could theoretically purchase another android body like hers, for the same purpose, but it wouldn’t be of much use without a human soul to occupy it. So far, no one had volunteered for that task. As it happened, Christie was on board at the moment, down in the orb room, to assist with final checks.

Declaring the Percheron to be fully operational would have been one hell of a Christmas present for Dietrich, but there was still one more test to be run. She spoke to Lieutenant Brody, her navigational officer, a younger woman seated to her right.

“Brody, set a course for Proxima Centauri, maximum velocity.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Brody replied.

Though the FTL drive had functioned perfectly for their quick hop to Saturn, it had also been decided that running it at full speed for longer would be wise. The trip to Proxima Centauri, 4.2 light-years distant, would take just under fifteen hours, and hopefully prove with near certainty that the ship was capable of reaching Theta Pegasi. They would pause after eight hours, however, to double-check everything and allow the visitors from the Faith to return to their own ship.

Lieutenant Latoria, one of their pilots, was at the flight controls. He maneuvered the ship until the bow was pointed at the star they wanted.

“Activate,” said Dietrich.

All other frames of reference disappeared almost immediately as Latoria pushed the throttle lever forward, and a moment later, the FTL drive kicked in. Contrary to what science fiction TV shows and movies had showed them, traveling even at their top speed was almost imperceptible. Akin to watching sunlight slowly creep across a surface, the stars appeared motionless unless one watched them for a while. However, if there was no other clue that they were traveling faster than light, the stars ahead of them became slightly bluer, and the stars behind redder.

“The Reckless Faith is pacing us,” said Brody. “All systems are still in the green.”

Christie’s voice filled the bridge. “This is Tolliver. Everything looks good down here. I’m returning to the bridge.”

“Copy that, thank you,” said Dietrich.

Present from the Faith, in addition to Commander Scherer, were Dana Andrews, Ray Bailey, and Evangeline Adeler. When Christie returned from below, John spoke.

“It’s about lunchtime for both our ships,” he began. “Why don’t we take a break?”

“Sounds good. Brody, you have the bridge. I’ll relieve you for your meal break in thirty minutes.”

“Roger that, ma’am,” said Brody.

Dietrich and the Faith’s representatives exited the bridge to the central corridor, then took the stairs to the galley. As with the rest of the ship, this space was 50% larger than its counterpart on the Faith, and featured better appliances. Already present and having lunch were Lieutenants Mintaka, Al-Nilam, and Zeta, two men and one woman, who were the Percheron’s security detail and weapons experts. They gave each other cursory greetings, and the captain’s group chose a table. Dietrich walked over to the food prep area and gave her guests a list of options. They settled on sandwiches for simplicity’s sake, and Dana helped her make them. Once they were seated, Dietrich spoke to Christie.

“Miss Tolliver, there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you about, we’ve just been so busy with the project I never found the chance. If it’s too personal, feel free to decline answering.”

“If you’re asking me in front of everyone,” she replied, “how personal can it be?”

“I read the reports on Byron Sterling’s death, and his subsequent appearance as a sentient being in the Faith’s orb, as well as what happened to you shortly thereafter. I assume the reports are still current, correct?”

“I reviewed all our files before sharing them with NASA, and yes, you can consider that report current.”

“Then pardon me if this is a stupid question, but you still have no idea how your minds, or soul if you believe that sort of thing, ended up pulled into the orb upon the loss of your physical bodies?”

“No, and believe me, I wish we did. Consider the implications for humanity if we were able to figure out how to make it happen. The only thing we were able to guess with near certainty is that one must have been in physical contact with the orb at some point previously in order to be integrated with it. There were others who died on board the Faith, or in close proximity to it, during the time that the orb didn’t have a sentient presence, and they weren’t grabbed by it. But they never interfaced with it like Sterling and I did.”

“So, if say Lieutenant Mintaka over there gets his head blown off defending the ship from space pirates, there’s a chance he’ll end up inside our orb?”

“Wow,” said Mintaka.

Christie shrugged. “Maybe. Who knows? Orb mechanics, neptunium, the true nature of the Kira-To, there are a lot of things that we’ve encountered in our travels that defy explanation. Hopefully we’ll figure things out, or somebody smarter than us will.”

“I’m pretty sure the smartest people on the planet are on our two ships,” said Dietrich.

“Then we’ll have to ask the galaxy for help,” said John. “It’s worked for us so far.”

__________

Faen Leodin slammed her fist against the bulkhead, and took a deep breath. The computer station mounted on the wall had just informed her that she was the only person left alive on the Valorous. She was already terrified, having seen all of the engineering section murdered, and learning that the same fate had befallen the rest of the crew was almost too much for her to handle. She managed to retain enough of her wits to come to terms with her choices: she must make it to an escape pod, or resign herself to hiding in that storage closet for who knew how long. Neither choice was particularly better than the other, but it was the possibility of their enemy destroying the ship that made the decision for her.

In her left hand she clutched a pistol, and though it provided her the only comfort of her situation, she let it fall to the floor. The weapon had proved useless against their foes, and she’d borne witness to her hapless colleagues proving it with their last breaths. Though others on the ship had access to more powerful weapons, the cold, emotionless display on the monitor showed her how helpful they must have been. Her only hope was to avoid the aliens completely on her way to a pod.

The aliens had never been encountered by the Rakhar or any of their allies, of that she was certain. Vaguely resembling floating, translucent stingrays, they seemed to be out of phase with reality, moving silently with both beautiful and horrific grace, sometimes even passing through bulkheads as they swept through the ship. Bearing no clothing or weapons that she could see, their form of attack was an instantaneous lightning bolt that was capable of killing unarmored people with as few as one hit. If the security detail on the ship, with their power armor, fared any better, she hadn’t seen it. Their own energy weapons, and blades, passed right through them. They were unstoppable.

Faen considered the irony of her situation. She was a Rakh-Rii, half-Rakhar and half Kau-Rii, considered a freak by both, and didn’t hold the same status among the Rakhar as the rest of them. Her role on the ship was little more than indentured servitude, and she was assigned only the most menial tasks. In a way, she didn’t blame them. The odds of a Rakhar and Kau-Rii producing offspring was a million-to-one; by the opinion of many, she shouldn’t even exist. For centuries, if a child wasn’t aborted, or stillborn, it was simply killed. But now, as the sole survivor of the Valorous, if she could save the ship, perhaps her kind would be seen more favorably. Unfortunately, such a thing seemed impossible. Even if she could get to the bridge, what could she do? She already knew the ship’s propulsion system was heavily damaged. No, she had to focus on saving her own skin.

There was one crucial bit of information she had learned that made escape possible. During the fighting, she had witnessed an engineer attempt to hide behind a corner. Standing motionless, and barely breathing, he was not detected when an alien passed right by him. It was only when he made a break for it that he was cut down.

Steeling herself to the task, she first accessed the override function for the door, and switched it to manual mode. With a soft click, the door unlocked, but didn’t open. That allowed her to slowly and silently slide it open. Peeking out into the corridor, she immediately spotted an alien. It was hovering at an intersection of hallways, motionless, its intentions inscrutable. Faen at first held her breath, then tried to breathe as slowly as she could. After a few maddening minutes, the creature moved on and out of sight. Luckily, she wanted to go in the opposite direction, and slipped out into the corridor.

The Valorous had been in a tough fight, that much she knew. She did not know, however, where they were or what their mission had been. Even her colleagues who showed her basic politeness hadn’t shared anything with her, nor did she expect them to. The engineering section, buried deep in the bowels of the ship, hadn’t received much damage that was visible to her. Other than red flashing lights mounted to the ceiling, the failure of main power, and the bodies of the dead, everything looked mostly normal. She had to make it down one deck and to the port side hull to get to the nearest escape pod, a mercifully short trip. After she weaved her way through dim corridors, she made it to the stairwell she wanted without another encounter. Here, she found the door locked, and the controls offline. Cursing, she instead tried the lift on the opposite side of the hallway. It was working, and a fresh wave of adrenaline hit her chest at the noise it created as the car arrived. The doors slid open, and she found herself nose-to-nose with an alien.

Faen froze, stricken with a terror deeper than anything she could have imagined. At this distance, the being was still translucent, and she could see the back of the lift in distorted lines through its body. It moved slightly, then just hung there, as if staring at her with unseen eyes. She resolved herself that her mission had failed, and waited for the end. The creature moved one of its wing-like appendages, and the limb passed right through her head. Euphoria washed over her, along with the curious feeling that she had just completed a lengthy and exhausting job interview. She blinked, and the alien was gone.

Still feeling like she had just injected pure opiates directly into her veins, she stepped into the lift and pressed the button for deck five. After the car arrived, she headed toward the bank of escape pods in a daze. As the euphoric sensation faded, her fear returned, though much less intense. A thousand answers to random questions filled her mind, and she had to push past them to focus on checking the first pod. It was functional, so she got in. With room for four people, and provisions to match, she would be able to survive for four months out there, assuming the aliens didn’t get her first. With a top speed of 0.1 c, rescue was her only hope. Even if there was a planet nearby, she would not go there, as she couldn’t risk it being the homeworld of the aliens.

As the pod pushed itself away from the Valorous, she checked the navigation system. There was indeed a planet not far from there, but the pod’s rudimentary scanners revealed little else. After some poking around, she learned that the pod was supposed to be synced to its host’s SRC transceiver, but for some reason that hadn’t happened in days. So, Faen had no idea where she was. There were no windows in the aft section of the pod, so she couldn’t see the Valorous or any ships that might be pursuing her, only adding to her anxiety. She busied herself with taking inventory of the provisions and medical supplies, and eventually noticed that an hour had passed. Though she was probably safe, she decided not to activate the distress beacon just yet.

Suddenly feeling extremely fatigued, she found a blanket and tucked herself into the pilot chair. As traumatic as her experience had been, she would shed no tears for the crew of the Valorous, and sleep came to her quickly.

Audible Promo Codes!

If you’re an Audible subscriber, or willing to become one, and live in the US or UK, I still have several promo codes for the audio book version of Reckless Faith available. They will allow you to download a copy at no additional cost. Let me know if you want a code!

https://www.audible.com/pd/Reckless-Faith-Audiobook/B09VPLYLCS?asin=B09VPLYLCS

Pegasus in Chains Has Been Released

I’m pleased to announce that the Kindle version of the 6th book in the Reckless Faith series, Pegasus in Chains, is now live on Amazon. The paperback version will be released some time later. Thank you to everyone who provided feedback and encouragement.

Quick Progress Update

Work on Pegasus in Chains, the 6th book in the Reckless Faith series, has reached 70% of the total estimated length. At this rate I’m fairly confident I’ll have the first draft completed by the end of August.

Pegasus in Chains (RF VI), Chapter 16

Spoiler Alert: This is a new entry into the Reckless Faith series. The prologue may be found here: https://devonai.wordpress.com/2021/10/26/reckless-faith-vi-prologue/

Also, this is well beyond the halfway point of the story, and as I’ve traditionally done, there will be no further updates on my blog to the work-in-progress. I will post progress updates, but if you want to read the rest of the story, you’ll have to wait until the book comes out! Optimistically, I’m looking at an early October time frame. For now, Chapter 16 follows.

Evangeline smoothly and swiftly swept inside the lobby of the Executive tower, her AK-74 tucked tightly into her shoulder.  Her position in the stack required her to move to the near right corner of the room, while the others cleared the other three corners.  She had activated the night-vision feature of her helmet moments before entering, and thanks to the IR illuminator mounted on the side, the space was lit up like noontime.  She had nearly tripped over an upended bench, but managed to bunny-hop over it and land running.  Searching for targets, she hadn’t yet taken time to appreciate the finer details of the lobby, only focusing on the eastern wall and anyone that might stand in her way.

“Clear!” she shouted.

The rest of the breaching team declared the same condition, and Eva crouched while she caught her breath.  She scanned the space, identifying other exits and confirming the position of her friends.  The most immediate feature of the lobby was that it was two stories tall, and had a bank of three elevators on the west wall.  In the silence that followed the action, she also took account of a long reception desk, a small door behind it, and a hallway that led further into the first floor.  Hanging above the threshold to that hallway were two planks, each about three meters long, nailed to the wall and tied into a the shape of an X with red cord.  Other than a few pieces of furniture scattered here and there, the area was clear of debris.  From the opposite corner, Marcon keyed his radio.

“The rest of ADVEC, move inside.”

Cane, Talyn, Laurent, Jim, and Vecky entered the building, and also spread out to the four corners of the lobby.  Vecky ended up next to Eva.

“You chose your AK?” the younger woman asked.

“It’s the loudest weapon in the group,” Eva replied softly.  “I figured shock and awe might be in order.”

“Cut the chatter and hold here,” growled Marcon.

The team remained in a defensive posture for a few minutes.  Though there was no other artificial light in the room, the buttons for the elevators were illuminated.

“The elevators appear to be working.”

“We’re not taking the elevators.  First squad, move inside.  Second and third squads, deploy your insta-screens.”

Nine more of Marcon’s troops entered the building.

“Insta-screens?” asked Vecky.

“Portable cloaking shields,” said Marcon.  “Sort of like pop-up tents.  They don’t work very well up close, but they’re effective against aerial recon or snipers.  As long as I have those squads guarding the street, they might as well use them.”

“Handy.”

“They have been.  All right, first squad, guard the lobby.  ADVEC, we’re going to clear the first floor.”

Praxis said, “Rumor has it that IP only occupies the floors above the energy shield.  Though we definitely should have run into some guards already.”

Marcon said, “That explains the poor health of the ones we’ve encountered.  The safest way to do this is to clear every floor until we run into somebody.”

“That’s eighty floors.  That’ll take hours.  If you’re worried about getting flanked, if we stick to one stairwell then it will act as a choke point.  It shouldn’t be too hard to fight our way back to ground level.”

“Captain Kitsune, it’s your call.”

“We’ll sweep the first floor,” said Vecky.  “Maybe the guards are having a meal or something.  If we find no one, then we’ll choose a stairwell and head to the threshold of the energy shield.”

“I’d still like to post sentries every fifteen floors until then, to help facilitate a retreat.”

“Fine with me.”

“Second squad, come inside.  Third squad, re-establish a perimeter.”

Another squad entered the building.  It was starting to get rather crowded in the lobby.

“Now would be a good time to blow the building,” said Talyn, “if that was their plan.”

“Don’t even talk like that,” said Vecky.

“Listen up,” began Marcon.  “Here’s the plan.  Second squad, clear the ground floor.  When you’re done with that, ADVEC will begin ascending to the eightieth floor, same order as before.  First squad, you’ll follow us, and post two troops every fifteenth floor.  Sergeant Helvetios, you’ll stay with the ninth man at the seventy-fifth floor.  That’s all.  Second squad, move out.”

The next twenty minutes went by without incident, with the exception of Marcon having to remind several people to knock off idle conversation.  Other than that, the place was as silent as a tomb.  Second squad returned, and the platoon sergeant approached Marcon.

“All clear,” he said.  “We found office suites, bathrooms, a vending room, a cafeteria, and some mechanical rooms.  It doesn’t look like any of this space has been used in quite some time.  The dust on the floor was enough to confirm that.”

“Good job.  We’re going up now.  Keep the lobby secure and don’t take your eyes off those elevators, either.”

“Aye, sir.”

Eva and her team got in a single-file line and approached the nearest stairwell.  Vecky was in front of her, and Marcon behind.  Alsade was on point once again.  As they started climbing, Vecky tried to look up the center of the shaft.

“I’m not sure I can make it up eighty floors,” she said.  “There isn’t a lot of opportunity for exercise aboard the Fox.”

“The Fox has a decent gym,” said Eva, smirking.  “Perhaps this experience will teach you to use it more often.”

“Maybe I should make you use it as your quarters.”

Alsade said, “I’ll try to keep a reasonable pace.  Now will you two shut up already?”

“Took the words out of my mouth,” muttered Marcon.

Despite Eva’s teasing, she was no more prepared for this task than Vecky.  Indeed, by the 20th floor, everyone was struggling, even Marcon and his troops.  Only Jim was immune from the exertion.  Alsade was forced to slow down to let everyone keep up, as she seemed less bothered by the effort.  Fortunately for the humanoids, their suits helped keep them cool.

“How are you supposed to fight when you can’t even catch your breath?” puffed Vecky.

“That’s combat,” replied Marcon.  “You either figure it out, or you die.”

“You know, I’ll take a firefight right now if it means we get to stop climbing stairs.”

“You can swap out with one of the sentries at the thirtieth floor if you like.”

“It may come to that.”

By the time they reached the 30th floor, most of them needed a break.  They drank from their canteens, and a few of them sat down.  Marcon keyed his radio.

“Second and third squads, sitrep?”

“Nothing here in the lobby,” came the first reply.

“The streets are dead,” said the next man.

“Good, stay frosty.  Marcon out.”

“I’m done,” said Vecky.  “I want to take the elevator.  I’d rather take my chances of being trapped inside or ambushed at the eightieth floor than stay here and guard the stairwell.”

“That’s your choice.  In my opinion, it’s too risky.  Even if you make it out of the car alive, if you get into trouble you won’t have any backup.”

“I’ll go with her,” said Eva, wiping some water from her chin.  “Venator?  Talyn?”

“I’m in,” said Cane.

“Fine by me,” added Talyn.

“This idea isn’t going to work without me,” said Praxis, then he shrugged.  “I guess I’m going, too.”

Eva painfully picked herself up from the landing, put down her visor, and readied her rifle.  “I’ll take point.”

The new team of five entered the thirtieth floor.  Eva cleared the hallway to the right, and Praxis moved to the left.  The corridor stretched all the way from the front to the back of the building, and they could see right away that it was empty, save for some acoustical tiles that had fallen to the floor.  A single fluorescent light in the ceiling nearby flickered erratically.  Praxis stayed put as the rest of the team entered the hallway, then followed them toward the elevator banks.  As they approached that area, their boots began to kick up yellow dust.  Arriving at the doors, they found floor-to-ceiling exterior windows, most of which were smashed out.  Eva stole a glance down at the street.

“Those insta-screens are pretty neat,” she said.  “I can’t tell where third squad is.”

“Here goes nothing,” said Vecky, and pressed one of the call buttons.

A light above the doors lit up weakly, and a few seconds later, a grinding sound announced the arrival of the car.  The doors scraped open, revealing that it was unoccupied.  None of the interior lights were working.

“Do your suits protect against fall damage?” asked Praxis.

“That would be convenient, but no,” replied Talyn.

They all got in, and the doors clattered shut.  Vecky hit the button for the 80th floor.  There were 101 floors in total.  The car shuddered unnervingly as it began to rise, but smoothed out after a couple of floors.  As they passed the 75th floor, Eva raised her rifle.

“Get ready,” she said.

“Allow me,” said Praxis.  He stood in front of the doors, holding his flag with both hands.  When they opened, he almost dropped it, and he put his left hand over his mouth and nose.  “Ugh!”

“What is it?”

He gagged.  “The stench… it’s death.”

Eva aimed her rifle into a dark hallway.  “Put on your gas mask.”

“No, they need to be able to recognize me.  Just give me a minute.”

Gathering himself together, Praxis advanced into the corridor, holding the flag out before him.  Though she couldn’t smell it with her helmet on, Eva could see the source of the odor.  Skeletal remains of humanoids littered the floor, with strips of flesh hanging from the bones.  Though she wasn’t an expert, she thought she could identify several different races that had met their end.  Advancing into the hallway, the team kept their weapons at the ready, and examined every nook.  This level was arranged in the same way as the one on the 30th floor, so they first cleared the area near the elevators.  Before they turned around, she noted that the windows were intact.  Outside, swirls of yellow dust drifted past.

The various doors that flanked the hallway appeared to be office suites, though Eva had no interest in investigating any of them.  As they continued, Praxis tucked one end of the rod under his left arm, and drew his pistol.

“This is worse than I thought,” he uttered.

Last in line, Cane peered at his PDA.  “Mister Praxis, radiation levels here are elevated.  You should really put on a respirator.”

“Not yet.”

At first indistinguishable from the macabre debris, a hint of motion caused the team to stop.  A figure was bent over a skeleton, working with a dull blade to try to separate a femur from a tibia.  The person barely glanced at the team, then continued cutting, the knife making a sickening grating sound.  Covered almost entirely by a tattered robe, it was difficult to make out any detail of their condition.

“Fuck,” whispered Eva.

“I am Jinro Praxis, leader of Shining Beacon.  I request parlay with Matron, under peaceful terms.”

Separating the bones, and standing up victoriously with the tibia, the figure looked at them.  Its gender was impossible to tell, and brown teeth grinned at them obscenely from a face without lips.  Eva felt her index finger wander onto the trigger of her rifle.

“Ood,” it said.

“I’m sorry, what?”

The creature pointed to its mouth. “Eat.”

“You want something to eat?”

It nodded yes, so Praxis glanced at his team.  “Somebody give it some food.”

Talyn handed his rifle to Cane, then took off his rucksack.  He rooted around inside for a moment and pulled out a package of meat jerky.  He tossed it forward, and the figure looked at it, but didn’t pick it up.”

“Kau’Rii,” it said.

“Yes, I’m a Kau’Rii,” Talyn said.

“Eat.  You.”

“What the fuck?”

Cane examined one of the skeletons.  “There are blade marks all over these bones.”

“Give Kau’Rii,” the figure said, “and show you Matron.”

“Holy shit,” said Eva. “You want to trade him in exchange for taking us to Matron?  So you can eat him?”

“Yes.”

“I think we just figured out where IP has been getting their sustenance,” said Cane.

Praxis dropped his flag, lifted his pistol, fired, and took the creature’s head off of its shoulders.

“God damn it!” yelled Eva.  “Look sharp, people!”

Halfway down the corridor, the door to one of the suites opened.  Three figures burst out, all holding knives.  Eva opened up with her rifle, felling all of them with an eight-round burst.  Praxis covered his ears, a moment too late, and stumbled to the side.  Behind her, Cane began rapidly firing his Liberator pistol, joined a split-second later by Vecky and her carbine.  Eva resisted the urge to look at the action, instead keeping her focus on her end of the hallway.  When the noise abated, Vecky spoke.

“Fall back to the elevators!”

The team carefully back-pedaled to the elevator lobby, passing by the people that Cane and Vecky had just killed.  All that Eva was able to see were rags and blood.

“Captain Kitsune,” began Praxis, “Negotiations have failed.  You need to decide right now if we’re continuing the mission, or withdrawing back to town.”

Vecky appeared to be in shock, but took a deep breath and looked at him. “You had no idea these people were cannibals?”

Praxis snapped his fingers next to his left ear.  “No.  I never would have brought you here if I had known how corrupted these people have become.  This is far more than two different religious sects deciding how they want to worship.  The Illuminated Path cannot be saved.”

“Do you think living up here, with all this radiation, has driven them mad?”

He gestured at the mess in the corridor. “What more evidence do you need?  Captain, the mission can still succeed, if there’s element 93 around.  However, you’re going to have to kill any opposition we meet.  If you’re not okay with that, we should abort now.”

Talyn said, “Just so we’re clear, I’m not okay with being slaughtered for my flesh, although I’m sure I’m quite delicious if prepared with some savory spices.”

“And here I thought you were a team player,” said Cane.

Praxis looked at both of them.  “You two have clearly seen some shit in your day.”

“I don’t see any moral equivalency here,” said Vecky.  “Religious zealots are one thing, this is something else.  Regardless of any neptunium, we’d be doing Saffron Canyon City a favor by wiping them out.”

“Then you know what you have to do.”

Vecky keyed her radio.  “Marcon, this is Kitsune, come in, over.”

“Go ahead,” said Marcon’s voice.

“The situation has changed.  This is now purely a combat mission.  Proceed with the placement of the sentries, and have everyone else meet us on the eightieth floor.  Rules of engagement are now kill on sight.  You got that?”

“Understood.  Marcon out.”

Praxis pulled out his gas mask and put it on, then turned to Eva.  “I don’t suppose you’d mind if I used your Phalanx?”

Eva juggled her rifles and passed the carbine off to him.  “I have plenty of ammo for Mister Kalashnikov here.  Do you know how to use the grenade launcher?”

“Yes, though I’m sure you’d all appreciate it if I try to refrain.”

She passed off her spare magazines for the weapon, along with a bandoleer of twelve grenades.

“Do you want to sweep the rest of this floor?” asked Cane.

“Fuck no,” replied Vecky.  Hold here until Marcon arrives.”

Fifteen minutes later, Alsade and Marcon emerged from the stairwell.  They took in the carnage in the corridor, then met up with the rest of the team.

“This looks like an abattoir,” Marcon said, disgusted.

“That’s right,” replied Vecky.  “Isolation and radiation have turned them to cannibalism.  If there’s element 93 in this building, we’re going to find it.  And we’re going to kill anyone that stands in our way.”

Marcon put his hand up to his ear.  “Hold on, I’m getting a message from the Rastaban.”

“That can’t be good.”

“No, it isn’t.  First platoon is in trouble.”

__________

Saffron Canyon Dam was considered to be the northern limits of the city that shared its name, and across its top ran the road that Lieutenant Bellenshed and 1st platoon had taken to get there.  It also made a handy place for a military checkpoint, as after the dam the road made its serpentine way into the canyon and down to the city proper.  Bellenshed had already made a deal with the guards there, and had planned on moving his troops from the west side to the east after notification from Captain Marcon.

The hydroelectric generators at the dam were still functioning, and according to the guards, supplied the city with all of its power needs.  The support buildings were all on the west side, and when they’d first arrived, what few workers they saw almost completely ignored them.  Upon realizing that the visitor’s center was abandoned, Bellenshed moved most of his troops inside to wait.  A few hours had gone by before two dropships full of Vastus Defense Force soldiers had shown up.  It was at that point that he alerted his boss to the problem.

“It’s not a coincidence,” Bellenshed was saying.  “Aerial patrols were frequent during our trip here.  We must not have gotten the insta-screens up in time at one point.  They’re heading this way, contact is imminent, over.”

It took a few seconds for Marcon’s reply to bounce off of the Rastaban and reach him.

“Get across that dam now,” he said.  “If they fire on you, try warning shots first.  If they have the balls to press an attack, shoot to kill.  Attempt to break contact once you’re under the energy shield.  You have the coordinates of our location, head there immediately, over.”

“Understood.  Bellenshed out.”

He peered out onto the street through the nearest grimy window.  The Vastus soldiers had finished dismounting their transports, and were arranging themselves in a wedge formation, getting ready to move east.  Though the shifting yellow plumes of dust made it difficult, he was fairly confident he counted twenty-seven men in total.  That made them an even match, at least in numbers.  He couldn’t yet identify their arms or armor.  There were three buildings on the near side of the road, and three on the far side, but the cover they offered wouldn’t be of any help once they made a break for the dam.

“All right, listen up,” he began.  “I will initiate contact.  First squad, head north.  Second squad, stay among these buildings on the south side.  Third squad, head for the dam, and try to keep these buildings in their line of sight as soon as possible.”

His sergeants confirmed the orders, and second and third squad exited the building to the south.  First squad posted up next to Bellenshed and prepared to move across the street.  The first man in line opened the door for him, and he leaned out, rifle shouldered.  He aimed well above the heads of the soldiers, and let loose a volley of plasma.  Without waiting to see their reaction, he gestured for first squad to go.  They sprinted across the street, with the last man finding cover behind a building just seconds after the soldiers returned fire.  Their purple-tinged plasma shots zipped down the street, then ceased.

Stealing another glance, Bellenshed saw them breaking off to the flanks.  First and second squads got in position and continued to fire over the heads of their targets.  Though there was little in the way of cover out to the west, several soldiers went prone behind whatever they could find and returned fire.  The shots were well-aimed and carried a significant punch, as evidenced by the chunks they were blowing off of the buildings.  He spoke into his radio.

“Shoot to kill.  First squad, wait until third squad is at least halfway across the dam, then begin falling back.”

There was enough distance between the buildings and the dam that third squad made it to the halfway point without catching any fire.  By then, the Vastus soldiers had them in enfilade, and third squad began falling back by pairs while returning fire from behind the guard rails.  First squad began their movement just as a pair of Shrike fighters screamed overhead, heading west before beginning a turn back toward the action.

“Shrike Mark Sevens,” someone said into their radio.

“Shit!  Bravo team, third squad, get your AAM into action, now!”

The fighters set themselves up for a strafing run along the road.  The private with the anti-aircraft missile launcher in Bravo team must not have needed any prompting from Bellenshed, as it was mere seconds later that a missile shot from the dam toward the fighters.  The first one tried to dodge it, but the ordnance had already locked on.  The impact and explosion sent the fighter tumbling down the south side of the dam, cutting a long gouge in the concrete before crashing into the river.  The second fighter opened up with its 40mm cannon, ripping up the surface of the roadway and smashing the hastily-constructed guard shack into splinters.  At that point there was so much dust in the air, Bellenshed couldn’t see any of first squad, third squad, or the enemy soldiers.

“We’ve got casualties,” said 3rd squad’s sergeant.

“AAM gunners, get ready!  First squad, help grab the wounded and get the hell off the dam!  Second squad, let’s go.”

Bellenshed and his squad laid down a hellish fusillade of covering fire, then sprinted toward the dam.  Shots followed them through the haze.  He could hear the Shrike coming in for another pass, but kept his attention on the road.  Another missile went airborne, but the gunner must not have had a positive lock before firing, as the missile moved in a straight path to the west and disappeared into the sky.  Cannon shells began impacting the asphalt around him, and the man next to him went down.  He reached down to help him up, only to find that he’d been blown in half.  He heard the next missile launch, and looked up just in time to see it impact the fighter.  Though it appeared to be a solid hit, the pilot managed to keep his craft in the air.

What was left of 1st squad continued to fall back by pairs, though some were too encumbered with carrying wounded men to return fire.  The wind began to clear the dust clouds from the top of the dam, revealing carnage.  There wouldn’t be many injuries to treat; the 40mm cannon had made sure of that.  On the other side of the dam, the road turned to the south, and 2nd and 3rd squads were already almost to the edge of the energy shield.  Abruptly, all firing ceased.  The Vastus troops had stopped on the west side of the dam, and the Shrike was nowhere to be seen.

About a quarter of a kilometer down the road, there was a cluster of warehouses.  Bellenshed directed his troops to head that way.  Fortunately for them, the first building they stumbled into was abandoned, and 1st platoon piled inside.  They set up a hasty perimeter, then dragged their wounded into what turned out to be the shipping and receiving office.  After quickly checking on their injuries, the grim truth came out.  Only one of the men they’d been carrying was still alive.  His left leg had been blown off at the knee, but his combat armor had automatically applied a tourniquet to his thigh.  He would survive, if he could get to a skilled surgeon in a reasonable amount of time.

Bellenshed scanned the office with his PDA, then did the same with the warehouse interior.  “Radiation levels here are negligible.  When we’re sure we’re not being pursued, you can take off your helmets.”

1st squad’s sergeant approached him.  “I have the casualty report, sir.  Twelve dead, one wounded.  We’re green on ammo, except for the AAMs, and green on food and water.”

“Fucking hell.  All right, third squad is no more.  Consolidate supplies and reorganize the squads.  We’ll move out and rendezvous with Captain Marcon.  We can only hope he and his contingent are having better luck.”

Pegasus in Chains (RF VI), Chapter 15

Spoiler Alert: This is a new entry into the Reckless Faith series. The prologue may be found here: https://devonai.wordpress.com/2021/10/26/reckless-faith-vi-prologue/

The cargo bay aboard the Rastaban was a blur of activity.  On Marcon’s orders, Tereis had called upon 1st and 2nd platoons assemble with their weapons and equipment.  They were still getting organized when he arrived at the cargo bay, with both team and squad leaders double-checking their subordinates to ensure all of their items were ready to go.  Tereis was familiar with the process; before he was second-in-command, he was a grunt like them.

After several minutes, everyone formed up in front of him.  In all, fifty-two soldiers were there.  First Lieutenant Bellenshed saluted him, and he returned the gesture.

“Sir, first and second platoons present or accounted for,” he said.

“Is anyone on sick call?”

“No, just a couple of stragglers.  They’re on their way.”

“Here.”  Tereis handed him a small bag.  “Element 79, for incidentals.”

“Understood.”

“As you were.”  Tereis raised his voice.  “Listen up, people.  Captain Marcon and his ground team have called for reinforcements.  Situation: Enemy forces, approximately eighty irregulars, armed with projectile weapons, no greater combat capability is known.  Most likely course of action is to engage immediately using standard small-unit tactics.  Friendly forces, Marcon’s team on the ground, nine troops; and first and second platoons.  Terrain, high desert plains, followed by urban.  Mission: link up with his team on the surface and provide combat support.  Execution: both platoons will take shuttles to the perimeter of the Saffron Exclusion Zone, and proceed on foot.  At a position to be determined by platoon leaders, first platoon will head to the canyon entrance to the north and await further orders.  Second platoon will head to the south and link up with Captain Marcon.

“Service and support: Prisoners of War, if captured, will be guarded by Bravo team, third squad, in each platoon, until the mission ends, at which time they will be released.  Casualties will be treated in the field; due to airspace restrictions, evacuation of wounded will be limited to the entirety of both platoons becoming combat ineffective.  In other words, we’ll only have one shot at evac.  Similarly, logistical support will be limited to whatever you bring with you.  Command and signal: communication on the ground will be in accordance with S.O.P.  Communication with the shuttles or the Rastaban will have to go through an intermediary transmitter at the southern tip of the canyon, as our portable radios won’t penetrate the energy shield that covers the city.  So, any of those messages will go first through your lieutenants, then to Marcon.

“That’s it.  Questions will go through your chain of command.  Dust-off is in thirty minutes, arrival with be at 0300 local time.  Lieutenant Bellenshed, find those two stragglers and drag their asses down here, or find replacements.”

Tereis and Bellenshed saluted each other again, and everyone began to make last-minute preparations.  Tereis headed back to the bridge.  He had mixed feelings about staying behind.  While his job on board was obviously important, he sometimes missed the action, and this mission sounded extremely interesting.  He might have been able to go, if Marcon didn’t always insist on being on the ground himself.  After twenty years of friendship, he knew there was no convincing him otherwise.

When he returned to the bridge, the sergeant of the watch turned to face him.

“Good timing, sir,” he said.  “We’ve got someone from Vastus orbital control waiting to speak with you, audio only.”

Tereis sat down in the command chair.  “All right, put him through.”

“…off duty in two hours,” someone was saying.

“This is Commander Tereis of the independent vessel Rastaban.”

“This is Vastus orbital control.  We were wondering when your away team was planning on returning to your ship.”

“When we’re done with our business.  Why, is there a problem?”

“It has come to our attention that your shuttle has been sitting at the spaceport unoccupied for over one solar day.  The flight plan you filed indicated that your visit would be one day or less.”

“So?  If you need me to, I’ll revise the plan and send it back to you.”

“Your people wouldn’t happen to be visiting the Saffron Exclusion Zone, would they?”

“There was no ambiguity about your automated warning.  No, we have business elsewhere on Vastus.”

“That’s fortunate.  You wouldn’t want any of your people to be fired upon by our interceptors.”

“Of course not…”

“They’ve terminated the signal,” said the sergeant.

“Well, fuck you too.  Sorry, I meant those guys.  See if you can get in touch with Captain Marcon at the frequency he left for us.”

“Aye, sir.”

A few moments later, Marcon’s voice could be heard through a bad transmission.  “Go ahead, commander.”

“We just got a call from Vastus orbital control, strongly implying that they knew we had people in the forbidden zone.  I just wanted to know if you wanted to modify the mission at all.”

There was a pause.  “No, proceed as planned.  The only thing I want you to do differently is turn off the IFF transponders on the mission craft, and send another shuttle, with IFF activated, to another spaceport.  Then, have the pilot take a circuitous route to get there.”

“I’ll have to file another flight plan for the third shuttle.”

“That’s the idea.  Make it happen, commander, and keep me updated.  Are the troops ready to go?”

“Yes, mission dust-off will be on time.”

“Good.  Then I’ll see you on the other side.  Marcon out.”

__________

The alarm on Talyn’s PDA woke him up at 0500 local time.  Several hours earlier, trying to get to sleep on one of the couches in the spaceship suite, his chest pain had interfered.  Fortunately, after a couple of hours his exhaustion caught up to him, and he slept solidly after that.  When he awoke, he found that only Vecky remained asleep on a nearby couch; the rest of his team was already chatting softly by the fireplace or milling around in the kitchen.  He sat up and stretched his arms carefully.  He already knew where the guest bathrooms were, so he grabbed his rucksack and went into one.  This particular bathroom was obviously used by multiple people, all males by the looks of it.

After he relieved himself, he undressed and set to work on personal hygiene.  Part of his routine was the use of an electro-comb, a device considered indispensable by most Kau’Rii.  Unlike a regular comb, one of these had a small electrical current running through the tines when activated, attracting dirt and debris, and using it was the next best thing to a full shower.  Not having time for that, or the time to dry off afterward, he chose the comb.  That done, he put his clothes back on and exited.

Moving to the kitchen, he found Marcon, Cane, and Eva, each with a mug of hot liquid.

“Morning,” he said groggily.  “Is that yutha?”

“Close enough,” replied Cane.  “How are you holding up?”

“As long as it’s a stimulant.  I’m fine, thanks.”  He found the decanter and a mug, and helped himself.  “Any changes to the plan?”

Marcon said, “No, everything is going well so far.  My troops are in place just outside the canyon, north and south.  Second platoon, the one to the south, reports that they’re ready to enter once we can meet them at the bazaar.”

“Cool.  Should I wake up Kitsune?”

“I’ll do it,” replied Eva.

She put her mug on the counter and walked out.

Talyn tried his drink, and was pleased with it.  “Where’s Praxis?”

“His wives had a problem with this plan,” said Cane.  “He took them into his quarters to try to mollify them.”

“Is that what the kids are calling it these days?”

Cane and Marcon laughed, which was the first time he’d seen the latter man do so.

“It’s understandable that they’d be concerned,” said Marcon.  “I’m sure he’s pitching it as a peaceful meeting.”

Talyn raised an eyebrow.  “That’s the desired outcome, right?”

“Of course.”

“Okay.  What’s the time hack?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“I mean when are we stepping off?”

“We’ll head to the bazaar in one hour.  EVA suits and combat armor.”

“I take it we’re not worried about spooking the locals any more?”

“Praxis will be with us, that will allay any concerns.  At least until we get into IP territory.”

Marcon fired down the rest of his beverage and went into the common area, so Cane and Talyn followed him.  Vecky had presumably gone into one of the bathrooms, but everyone else was there.  Alsade came up to them.

“Helvetios and I are ready to go, sir, just need to suit up.”

“Good.  Mister Venator, Mister Talyn, please see to your people.  I’ll check on Jim and Mister Laurent.”

One hour later, the team was assembled on the southern edge of the bazaar.  Praxis had spoken to several locals on their way there, assuring that word of their operation would spread.  Still, fully geared up, they were getting a lot of hard looks from people.  It was for this reason that Vecky and Praxis had already agreed to divert one block around the central square once they linked up with 2nd platoon; that and it would be a lot easier for a larger group if they avoided the crowds.

Talyn had his helmet off at the moment, and aromas from the many food vendors were driving him crazy, after his meager breakfast of dry wafers and nut spread.  Despite providing excellent accommodations and beverages, Praxis hadn’t offered them any food.  He was sorely tempted to grab Cane and go buy something for himself, but his next meal would have to wait.  2nd platoon had arrived.  They had traveled down the canyon road in the same wedge-style formation that his team was using, and as the full group came into view, he counted 27 men or women (their armor made that distinction impossible).  Marcon moved up to talk their commander, and Talyn was just close enough to overhear them.

“No problems on the way in?” he asked.

“There seems to be an increase in aerial patrols over the valley, sir,” the man replied.  “We had to deploy the insta-screens twice when both a manned vessel and a UAV wandered too close.  We also lost contact with first platoon as soon as we got into town, but that was expected.  Other than that, and a small bribe to the guards at the rim of the canyon, no problems.”

“Good.  Our host has supplied me with a transceiver that works in the city, I can relay any messages to first platoon through the Rastaban.  Any questions on the mission briefing?”

“Rules of engagement?”

“Do not fire unless fired upon.  We’re hoping for a peaceful negotiation with the people we’re traveling to meet.  Captain Kitsune,” he pointed at her, “is acting in the place of our employer.  She has ceded control of any combat operations to me, but she’s still the one calling the shots.  If I should be killed, you will take your orders from her.”

“Understood.”

“Do your troops need to take a break, or are you ready to go?”

“We’re ready.”

“Okay.  I’m going to have the platoon run a comm check with our friends in the EVA suits, then we’ll move out.  Tighten up the formation until further notice, I want no less than twenty-five meters between squads, and no more than fifty.  We’ll be continuing traveling overwatch.  My squad will be on point.”

“Aye, sir.”

Talyn put his helmet on so he could participate in the comm check with everyone.  There were no issues, so his team got in their place in formation.

Contrary to what he had been told, they ended going two blocks east, two north, and two back to the west before they returned to the wide boulevard he was familiar with from their first attempt to travel north.  Once there, Marcon directed them to return to the wider wedge formation before continuing.  As before, random foot traffic dropped off drastically not far from the bazaar, and it soon became dead quiet.  Suddenly shattering that silence was a strange noise from the north.  It sounded like a loudspeaker broadcast, but the words were too garbled and indistinct to make any sense of it.

“What the hell is that?” asked Laurent.

“IP’s call to worship,” said Praxis.  “At least I think that’s what it is.  I have no idea how often they do that, or what their ‘services’ are even about.”

“Keep moving,” said Marcon.

When the first squad had passed through the roadblock where they’d been ambushed, Praxis reached into his jacket and pulled out a telescoping rod.  He extended it to its full length of two meters, then attached a large piece of blue fabric to the end.  It was the same color as Shining Beacon’s armbands.

“A flag of truce?” asked Marcon.

“Essentially,” Praxis replied.  “Years ago, when we still had occasional peaceful contact with IP, this is how we would signal our intentions.  Let’s hope they still honor it.”

Once they passed the block that contained the Z’Sorth shop, the terrain once again became unfamiliar.  The size of the buildings continued to increase, as did the amount of garbage and other debris on the street.  Also more prevalent was yellow dust, which seemed to have been haphazardly swept into random piles.  Since there was no wind in the city, it was impossible to tell how long they’d been there.  When they reached the former financial district, the buildings had become so tall that they pierced the energy shield.  Dark rooms lay beyond hundreds of smashed windows.

“It’s a sniper’s paradise,” muttered Eva.

They turned east for two blocks, and Praxis gestured at a skyscraper.  What used to be an alabaster and gleaming steel façade was now an almost uniform shabby gray.

“Here it is,” he said.  “Executive tower, the tallest structure in Saffron Canyon City, and home of the Illuminated Path.  We should have run into some of them by now.”

“That’s either good news or very bad news,” said Vecky.

“Maybe they’re still all at church,” suggested Cane.

“What do you want to do?” asked Marcon.  “Knock on the front door?”

Praxis said, “It’s either that or stand around until lunchtime.”

Marcon keyed his radio.  “Set up a perimeter.”

One of the squads stayed on the west side of the road, one moved to the east, and one spread out around the base of the building.  Alsade and Cane posted up on the left side of the double-doors, and Talyn and Eva stood on the right.  Praxis walked up, and rapped on one side of the door with the end of his rod.  Nothing happened.  After a few moments, he tried the handle.

“It’s locked.  Can I get a scan of the mechanism?”

Alsade pulled out her PDA, and pointed it at the door.  “It’s a mechanical lock.  No traps that I can detect.”

Praxis knocked again, with the same results.  “They won’t take too kindly if we kick the door down, but I don’t know what else to do.”

Marcon said, “Anybody here an expert on…”

Vecky aimed her ancient Earth carbine at the lock, and fired, causing Praxis to duck to the side.

“What the fuck?”

“Try it now,” she said.

“Fuck you, you do it.”

Vecky shrugged, and pulled on what was left of the handle, and the door swung open.  “Can’t argue with results.”

The fact that there was now a gaping aperture into darkness seemed to be lost on her, so Talyn grabbed her by the arm and pulled her to the side.  Everyone else kept their weapons pointed squarely ahead.

“If you feel I’m no longer needed,” said Praxis, “I’d be happy to return home.”

“Shut up for a second,” said Marcon.  Everything remained quiet, so he gestured ahead.  “Alsade, Helvetios, Adeler, you’re up.”

Alsade set herself up on the left side of the door, followed by Marcon, Helvetios, and Eva.

“Ready,” Alsade said.

“Go.”

Pegasus in Chains (RF VI), Chapter 14

Spoiler Alert: This is a new entry into the Reckless Faith series. The prologue may be found here: https://devonai.wordpress.com/2021/10/26/reckless-faith-vi-prologue/

“Reloading!”

Pararivula had signed a pact with the new Rakhar Empire.  That information, thought John, as he slapped another magazine into his Beretta, would have been eminently useful to him and the crew of the Reckless Faith before they attempted to make contact with the country’s president.  Instead, after landing in the largest courtyard of the presidential palace, dismounting, and heading toward what the ‘net told them was the chamber of his excellency, passing through narrow alleyways, arches, and ancient portcullises, what they got was a headlong, flat-footed encounter with several well-armed Rakhar troops.

There was no attempt at a parlay, no opportunity for prevarication, and no quarter.  The troops had unlimbered their plasma rifles and immediately fired on them.  Given their decision to carry only concealed pistols, in the hope of appearing peaceful, this created a problem for them.  Fortunately, those present of the crew knew what to do to make a hasty withdrawal.

John, Ari, Devonai, and Richter retreated by bounding pairs back toward that large courtyard, laying down a withering amount of covering fire.  John kneeled behind a pied stone pillar, aiming his pistol down the alleyway from which they’d just come, and waited for Devonai and Richter to run past him and Ari.  Brilliant plasma bolts followed them, and it was a minor miracle neither were hit.  They continued to the next archway, and posted up behind the scant corners it offered.  Once their pistols were pointed toward the action, they nodded at each other.

“All set!” yelled Richter.

Thankfully, the Rakhar troops weren’t inclined to shoot at what they couldn’t see, giving John and Ari an opportunity to run for it.  Hugging the walls, they stayed out of the line of fire of their comrades, and when the enemy swept forward, Devonai and Richter managed to score a few solid hits, the heavy report of their .45-caliber pistols echoing in a seemingly endless cascade off of the surrounding structures.

They continued this pattern until they reached the courtyard.  Though they couldn’t see the Reckless Faith, they knew it was there.  The rest of the crew already knew they were coming in hot; the only problem was trying to remember exactly where the ship was, so they wouldn’t end up in enfilade with the fifties.  Richter used hand signals to indicate that they should skirt around the outside of the courtyard.  John and Ari went left, and Richter and Devonai went to the right.  As soon as they did so, someone on board dropped the ramp to the cargo bay.  The team continued to flank the area, leaving the route back the way they’d come clear.

A pair of Rakhar troopers appeared at the end of the corridor, and drew a bead on John and Ari.  The hellish report of the ventral GAU 19/A filled the air, transforming the men into a wet pile of unidentifiable body parts.  Meeting at the far side of the ship, the ground team sprinted up the ramp.

“We’re on board, get us out of here!” shouted John.

A moment later, Ray and Dana ran down the stairs from the armory, each carrying a medical bag.  The ramp closed, casting the cargo bay into silence.  The team took a moment to catch their breaths, and check themselves for injuries.  Devonai seemed particularly gassed, and sat down with his back to the wall.  Other than that, they had managed to avoid any injury.

“You all right?” Richter asked him.

“Yes, I’m fine.  You wait until you’re my age and see how well your cardio holds up.”

“People your age run marathons, what’s your excuse?”

Devonai held up his middle finger, and smiled.  Richter returned the gesture, grabbed a bottle of water from a pallet nearby, and handed it to him.

“We’re back in orbit,” Milly’s voice said through the intercom.

“Roger that, Zukova,” said John.  “Maintain our position for now.”

“Rakhar troops?” asked Ray.

“Yes.  We can forget about any sort of alliance with Pararivula.”

“I feel like this plan is destined to fail,” began Dana.  “Not to be the voice of doom, but despite the optimism of you and President Feras, reaching a quorum among Eniph member states may be impossible.”

John dropped the mag out of his pistol and cleared the chamber.  “You may be right.  I think Feras is too hung up on trying to do this the proper, legal way.  He still commands the fleet, so ultimately he can decide whether or not to have them fight by our side.”

“You have to respect that he wants to do this correctly,” said Ray.  “We don’t know enough about him to know if that’s a road he’s willing to go down.”

John sighed.  “I know.  Let’s get to the bridge.”

Everyone followed him up the port stairs, then to the bridge.  Milly was piloting the ship, and Christie was at the science station.

“I’m glad to see you’re all safe,” Christie said.

“Thanks.  As you can probably tell, that went nowhere.  Any progress on your end?”

Christie smiled broadly.  “I’ve repaired the SRC transceiver.”

“Fantastic!  Have you reached out to the Fox and the Rastaban?”

“I did.  They sent a team to Vastus, as we expected.  However, they lost contact with them about six hours ago after they entered Saffron Canyon City, which as you know is protected from further contamination by an energy shield.  So, it’s not surprising their radios won’t work.  The Rastaban’s standard operating procedure is to wait forty-five hours after losing contact before sending in a rescue team.  If that makes you uncomfortable, we can certainly ask them to do so sooner.”

“So they weren’t able to find any neptunium at the research center?”

“No, and both Marcon and Vecky’s reports back to their ship were little more than cursory.  I can’t tell you what their experience was there, only that they got ambushed by locals on their way out.  There were no friendly casualties.”

“That’s good, but we really need to let them know that we have an alternative to neptunium here to fix our stardrive.  Though we already told them not to take any unnecessary risks, Vecky and Eva’s definition of that is, uh, rather fluid.”

“I can only relay our concerns to our allies in orbit, and hope that the message gets through before the ground team resorts to drastic measures.”

“Okay.  Ari, can I assign that task to you?  I’d like Christie to reach out to President Feras and update him about Sylvania and Pararivula.”

“No problem,” replied Ari.

“Unless Feras has another suggestion, what I think we should do next is try to find Eniph’s fleet on our own.  As long as we’ve got time to kill, we might as well try to locate them.”

“To what end?” asked Ray.  “You’re not suggesting that we try to convince them to rally to our side without the approval of their commander-in-chief?”

John shrugged.  “I doubt we’d be able to do that on our own.  If we approach them with several other capable ships, we may be able to demonstrate to the fleet commander that force is an option.  Then, they can relay that information to Feras.”

Christie said, “With all due respect, John, I don’t think you realize the enormity of the task you’re proposing.  Feras only told us that the fleet is hiding ‘outside the solar system.’  Even if we knew what distance, we don’t know what bearing.  Combine that with the fact that they’re probably changing positions every so often, finding them with one ship is borderline impossible.”

“Damn it, you’re right.  I just feel so useless right now, I want to do something.  I’ll tell you what, if the ground team on Vastus doesn’t report back in what, thirty-nine hours, we’ll go ahead with retrofitting our stardrive with the Cooper engine.  Does anyone have any objections to that plan?”

No one else spoke up, so Ray said, “Makes sense to me.”

“Good.  Ari, Christie, Dana, you have your assignments.  Richter, Devonai, do you want to clean your pistols now?  Ari, I can take yours, too.”

“I’ll just meet you down there when I’m done with my transmission,” replied Ari.

“Okay.  Let’s hope for some good news soon.”

__________

It was 1400 hours, local time, and the sun had already set below the wester rim of Saffron Canyon, once again casting the city into an eerie blue twilight.  Alpha team had finished up at the medical clinic ten minutes earlier, and made their way directly to the Winged Horse.  This time, there was ample seating available on the patio, and not wanting to spend any more gold on drinks, they had grabbed two tables outside to wait.  The burly bouncer from this morning was no longer there, and no one came out to ask them if they wanted to order.  So, they sat and watched the sun go down.  Eva felt exhausted, and wondered if she might have to sit out the mission for the rest of the day.

Talyn looked longingly toward the interior of the bar.

“After a long day like today, a cold beer sure would be nice,” he said.

“The day’s not over yet,” replied Eva, “but I’m not your mother.  If you order something, though, you’ll have to work out your own payment.”

“Nobody’s ordering any alcohol,” said Vecky curtly.

Though there was a steady stream of people entering and exiting the bar, one man in particular stood out to Eva on his way inside.  He was tall, and broad-shouldered, with a beard, and wore a leather jacket and what Eva would call a tricorn hat.  He had a gas mask carrier strapped to one hip, and a pistol in the other.  He was attractive, and carried himself with confidence.  He was either Primarian or Secundian by her best guess.  If Vecky noticed him, she didn’t say anything.

The man came out a few minutes later, flanked by a man and a woman wearing field jackets.  Both were native Vastusians, and wore blue bands around their right arms.  The man in the hat had a glass of beer, while his two companions carried bottles of water.  They sat down at a nearby table, and watched the crowd.  Eva looked at her team.  Everyone else had glanced over there, and returned their gazes to either the sky or the bazaar.  Eva pulled out her PDA and sent a text message to Marcon, warning him of the trio.  They made small talk and appeared to be ignoring Alpha team, for the moment.  Eva got a reply from Marcon.

“Marcon says they’ll be here in five minutes.”

“Good,” said Vecky.  “I think I’ll go over there now before the others get here, it may be less intimidating.”

“You’re the boss.”

Vecky stood up and approached the other table.  “Jinro Praxis, I presume.”

“I am,” replied the man.  “And you are?”

“Reveki Kitsune, captain of the independent vessel Fox.  I hear you’re the man to talk to if you want to do business around here.”

“Have a seat.  That’s not exactly true, but I know people.  What are you looking for?”

Vecky pulled out a chair and sat down.  “Element 93.”

“I take it you didn’t find any at the research center.”

She didn’t blink.  “No.  Only a squad of Illuminated Path psychos.”

“That’s unfortunate.  Wearing yellow armbands, were they?”

“Yes.”

“One of my squads was wiped out by them as well, it must have been shortly before your encounter.  Usually IP sticks to their territory around the financial district.  Tell me, do you have any seven-point-five by fifty you’d be willing to part with?”

“Not even close, sorry.  We ran into them again on our way to the Z’Sorth merchant to the north, past the bend in the river.”  Vecky gestured at the bandage on her head.  “As you can see, that was another close call.”

Praxis frowned.  “That’s not a good sign, either.  They’re definitely roaming further than usual.  How many did you encounter?”

“Seven, or at least that’s how many we killed.  Anyway, do you know where we might purchase some element 93?  The Z’Sorth shop said they sell all of theirs to IP.”

“They’re the only ones crazy enough to hoard that stuff.  Nobody else in the city has any use for it.  Small amounts may have been smuggled out of the exclusion zone, as might’ve anything else of value at the research center.  I’m guessing you wouldn’t have come here if you only needed a small amount.”

“Correct.”

“Then I can’t help you, unless…”

Bravo team arrived from the south.  Vecky waved them over and gestured for Marcon to join them.  The others sat with Alpha team.

“Jinro Praxis, Captain Marcon,” said Vecky.  “You were saying?”

“I have been considering trying to gain an audience with the leader of Illuminated Path, to see if I can’t renegotiate our truce.  My own security teams are spread awfully thin right now.  If your people would be willing to go with me and one of my squads, I can certainly ask about element 93 while we’re there.  I have to warn you, though, the most likely explanation for their hoard is that they consider the stuff to be sacred, and probably won’t sell you any.”

“It’s worth a shot.  There’s safety in numbers.  When were you thinking about leaving?”

“Tomorrow morning.  I can provide you with clean beds and showers until then.”

A group of several very drunk men stumbled out of the bar, laughing and slapping each other on the back.  Vecky waited until they’d been absorbed by the envelope of commerce of the bazaar, then continued.

“Captain Marcon, I’d appreciate your input.”

Marcon said, “What little intel we were able to glean from vendors and merchants here confirms that Shining Beacon is trustworthy, and that is indeed Jinro Praxis.  If he’s offering the possibility of a diplomatic solution, we should take it.  Sir, is it true that this Matron person keeps her home in the upper levels of one of the tallest buildings, outside of the protection of the energy shield?”

Praxis nodded.  “That’s right.  How she or any of her followers survive conditions like that is anybody’s guess.  I suspect that they’ve spent so much time at the site of the disaster that the very fabric of their beings has been warped.  However, if we request a parlay, Matron won’t expect us to ascend that high.”

“There’s no scientific basis for that suspicion,” said Jim.

“How else would you explain it?”

“It wouldn’t be too difficult to install some sort of protection from alpha particles, if they also had a good ventilation system.”

“Did you see the state of their bodies?  They’ve clearly been exposed to fatal levels of radiation.  And yet, they persist.”

“I don’t understand why the government of Vastus has taken a hands-off approach to this entire situation,” said Laurent.  “Are they that reckless with the health of the entire planet?”

Praxis rolled his eyes.  “It’s all politics.  The government would never admit to how badly they’ve fucked up their entire response to the disaster.  If all you ever watched was the official news broadcasts, you’d think Saffron Canyon City is doing just fine under the energy shield.”

“None of that is our problem,” began Vecky.  “I agree to your alliance.  I want to make it clear that any use of force on our part will be purely defensive.  If your hope is that we’ll help you wipe out the Illuminated Path, find someone else.”

“I wouldn’t have expected that.”

Marcon said, “Then, what we’ll need is a threat assessment.  How many combatants might IP have under its influence?”

“How many did you kill today?”

“Sixteen.”

“Great!  That only leaves about eighty.  Diplomacy is still our best option.”

“That brings up something else, Mister Praxis.  If a shuttle were to breach the exclusion zone, how quickly would the government respond?”

“Immediately.  Despite their attitude about the city, they do guard this area jealously.”

“Do you know what kind of craft might be dispatched to intercept?”

“Shrike Mark Sevens.  Atmosphere only, but their primary armament is a forty-millimeter cannon.  Not to be taken lightly.  Though you might be able to land a shuttle, they’d likely shoot it down before it could break atmo.”

“Fuck.”

Eva said, “If you’re considering calling for reinforcements, and we’re not leaving until the morning, then that’s plenty of time for another one of your shuttles to bring a squad to the spaceport and for them to walk in.”

“That’s true.  Mister Praxis, I have at my disposal ninety well-armed and well-armored troops at my disposal.  Now that we know the route to the city, I can have them here by morning.  Can you guarantee their safe passage to the bazaar?”

Praxis smiled.  “Easily.”

“Then, do you have a transmitter that is capable of sending a signal outside of the energy shield?  I can make the arrangements.”

“I do.  It’s at the same location as the accommodations I’m offering you.  Who are you people, anyway?  A small army in search of element 93?  This can’t be about profit alone.”

“What else could it be?  This is war, Mister Praxis.”

Pegasus in Chains (RF VI), Chapter 13

Spoiler Alert: This is a new entry into the Reckless Faith series. The prologue may be found here: https://devonai.wordpress.com/2021/10/26/reckless-faith-vi-prologue/

Though the Church of the Zafaran wasn’t Saffron Canyon City’s largest cathedral, it made up for its average size with several large, opulent stained-glass windows, consisting mostly of yellow and orange hues.  Before the energy shield was placed over the city, the afternoon sun would create a dazzlingly bright golden glow in the nave, a phenomenon that had easily attracted tourists and worshippers alike.  Nowadays, the afternoons offered little more than a dull greenish light, to no-one’s detriment.  Tourists didn’t come any more, and the Originalists no longer held services there.  Thanks to Praxis, however, it was still a holy place.  It was the home of Shining Beacon.

Praxis wasn’t expecting too many parishioners that morning, as his most reliable followers were his own soldiers, all of whom were busy with his missions.  He had prepared a simple sermon, as he usually did, and as the bells in the church tower began to signal the top of the hour, a small trickle of people began to wander in.  Most of them were regulars, though he did notice a few new faces.  That meant he had to modify his message to be extra welcoming, an easy task since his wasn’t a doom-and-gloom type of religion.

He had just stepped up to the pulpit and tested the microphone when Rikky entered from the rectory.  He made an apology to the audience and stepped aside.

“Bad news, sir,” the younger man said.

“Go ahead.”

“When we returned to the center, the remaining vehicles were gone.  In their place, we found this.”

Rikky held up two sticks about the length of his arm, tied into the shape of an X with red cord.

“Shit,” muttered Praxis.  “What are Matron’s idiots doing outside of the city?  And I thought you said some of our people were killed by plasma fire.”

“For sure, they were.”

“It’s not good for anybody if IP has gotten their hands on better weapons.  It seems they’re preparing to re-exert their claim over the center, and possibly capture more territory in the city as well.  Obviously, we can’t allow that to happen.”

“Forgive me for asking, sir, but how are the church’s coffers looking these days?”

“If you’re suggesting that we hire more troops, we can afford a few.  It won’t help much if they start making coordinated raids to the south.”

“You’ve met with Matron in the past, right?  Maybe you can talk to her.”

“If they’ve decided to turn hostile, then it would be a suicide mission.  I’ll have to think on that a bit, Rikky.”

“There is one other thing, sir.  Our guards at the bazaar have reported that a group of nine people arrived earlier today, and many of them had plasma rifles slung over their shoulders.  They went into the Winged Horse, at which point they lost track of them.  Perhaps that might explain where IP got their weapons.”

“Arms dealers don’t typically carry the weapons they want to sell in plain sight, especially in a place like this.  Still, it bears investigating.  Have our guys had a chance to have lunch yet?”

“No.”

“Then find a couple of volunteers who want to eat at the Winged Horse, and while they’re there, see what they can find out about our new visitors.”

“Sounds like a plan.  Are you going to go ahead with your sermon?”

“Yes, I don’t think I’m needed elsewhere right now.  You’re dismissed.”

Rikky exited the same way he had arrived, and Praxis returned to the podium.  He muddled through his sermon, extolling the virtues of the Kira’To, their oneness with the universe, and the peace and tranquility that communing with them could provide to even the most wretched person.  He didn’t believe a word of it.  When he was done, a young woman who lived in the rectory passed around a collection plate.  He didn’t expect to earn much that day; donations from parishioners were not Shining Path’s primary source of income.

After that, he made small talk with a few people, then excused himself to go find some food.  He grabbed his gas mask and gun belt from behind the pulpit and strapped them to his body.  It was only a few blocks to the east to get back to the hotel, he had plenty of food in his suite, and he wasn’t in the mood to go somewhere public, even though there were many decent choices in the south of the city.  He only stopped briefly to don his gas mask before crossing a bridge over the river, and again to remove it on the opposite side.  He could not help but glance over at the cluster of skyscrapers at the city’s center, and his mind dwelled again on the possibility of having a meeting with Matron.

He arrived at the hotel, passing through its formerly beautiful gardens, and gratefully descended to the security of his suite.  There wasn’t anyone there, which was fine with him.  He went into the kitchen, opened the refrigerator, and cooled his shins as he considered what to make for himself.  Nothing looked good.  The mere thought of dealing with the Illuminated Path disgusted him.

__________

The streets beyond the ramshackle roadblock were much the same as before it, and Cane was already sick of being there.  Their mission had taken a dark turn, and while he was no stranger to dwelling in the shadows in pursuit of what he wanted, these shadows were deeper and far more ominous.  He felt a whole lot better about his own safety after Marcon had conceded to let them put their suits back on; the model he was wearing offered excellent protection from conventional firearms, and he no longer had to worry about radiation.  He could only hope that would be the worst they were facing.

Before continuing toward the Z’Sorth shop’s alleged location, they had investigated the bodies of the creeps that had ambushed them.  They wore yellow armbands, and bore the same body piercings, mutilations, and radiation burns as the group that had attacked them back at the research center.  Whoever these Illuminated Path people were, they clearly held some territory in the city.  Yet, as they continued north, they spotted a few more travelers on the road.  Cane had to guess that they had some sort of arrangement with the locals for safe passage, or more likely, his team had appeared to be riper for the picking.

Fortune turned back in their favor as they rounded a corner and found the Z’Sorth shop.  It was nestled in a row of commercial buildings, each two stories tall, and of a similar utilitarian design of steel, aluminum, and concrete.  Curiously, the place they wanted appeared to be the only occupied structure they’d encountered in over a mile.  It bore an old, faded sign in an unknown language, but met the description they’d been given.  Marcon had the team assume a defensive posture.

“Captain Kitsune,” he began.  “Who do you want to go inside?”

“Adeler and Venator,” she replied.  “If you’re up for it, Eva.”

Eva nodded.  “I’m queasy from all these drugs, but I think I can handle it.”

“Radiation levels here are safe,” said Jim.  “You can take off your helmets if you’d like to adopt a friendlier appearance.”

Cane and Eva did so, then passed their rifles off to Talyn and Alsade.  They entered the store, and were immediately hit with the overwhelming odor of fecal matter.  Eva clearly balked at this.

“You okay?” asked Cane.

“I’m glad I had a small lunch,” she said.

“This is normal for Z’Sorth.  Fertilizer is one of their specialties.”

“Fertilizer for what?  This city is a wasteland.”

The entryway into the store was immediately bordered by a large collection of clutter, obscuring any chance for them to gauge the size of the room.  Only a small counter lay clear of any obstruction.  The pile of things seemed to be completely random, and included electronics, appliances, and children’s toys.  Soon, a Z’Sorth appeared from around a corner.  It was wearing an apron, and nothing else.

“Buying or selling?” it asked, slurring the words.

“Buying,” said Cane.  “Element 93.”

The lizard spat an opaque lump of phlegm onto the floor.  “Not in stock.  Illuminated Path buys from us.”

“Where do you get it from?”  All he got in response was a blank stare, so he tried again.  “Why is the Illuminated Path buying it?”

“I don’t care.”

“Fair enough.  Do you think they’ll sell us some?”

“Ask them,” it replied, pointing to the north.

“How much have they bought from you, overall?”

“Why would I tell you that?”

Cane looked at Eva.  She removed a single ingot of gold from her load-bearing rig, and placed it on the counter.  The Z’Sorth didn’t budge.  She added a second, then a third, before it spoke again.

“So?”

“Thirty-five pentrodo,” came the reply.

Eva looked at her PDA.  “That’s about seventy kilograms.”

“That’s enough for both us and the Eagle,” said Cane.

“True.”  Eva took out the rest of her gold and displayed it in her palm.  “Are you sure you don’t have at least half a pentrodo back there that you’d be willing to part with?”

Again, the Z’Sorth was inscrutable.  “No.”

“Would you be willing to open up a line of communication with us and the Illuminated Path?” asked Cane.

It made a sound like a pneumatic tire that had just been punctured, which they could only interpret as a laugh.  “Make babies with your rectums.”

“I think it just told us to fuck ourselves.”

“Yeah, I got that,” said Eva.  “Can you at least tell us where to find them?”

Again, it simply pointed to the north.

“Come on, we’re wasting our time in here.”

The pair went outside, secured their helmets, and told the others what they had learned.  Marcon turned to Cane and Talyn.

“Are you sure nobody at the bar said anything about the Illuminated Path?”

Talyn looked at Cane, then said, “Quite sure.  They only mentioned Shining Beacon.”

“The man who was still alive after the ambush at the center said they were also followers of the Kira’To.  So it seems we have two groups here who make that claim.”

“He did say ‘true’ followers,” said Helvetios.  “It seems that status is disputed.”

Marcon grumbled.  “Perhaps we should be asking Shining Beacon for help.”

“The way I see it, we don’t have too many options here,” began Vecky.  “If we continue north on our own, these people are probably going to shoot first and ask questions later.  We’d have to capture one of them alive and uninjured and try to convince them that we’re here to trade.  We can try to make contact with Shining Beacon, but they may also see us as a threat, refuse to help, or force us to leave the city.  There has to be somebody other than this one shop of Z’Sorth that trades with the Illuminated Path, I don’t think they can survive out here on robberies alone.  They probably have to purchase provisions.”

Eva said, “There’s also the question of what they’re doing with all that neptunium.  If we can find someone who trades with them, they might be able to tell us if they’d be willing to sell some to us.”

“There is another option you haven’t mentioned,” said Alsade.  “Go in hard and kill everyone, and take what we want.”

“The crew of the Reckless Faith don’t believe that the ends justify the means.”

“Captain Kitsune?”

“I agree with Adeler,” she replied.  “I’d rather leave here empty-handed then declare war on the Illuminated Path.”

“And yet, you’re willing to declare war on the Rakhar occupying the Eniph system.”

“They brought the war to Eniph, not the other way around.  We also haven’t exhausted options for a peaceful resolution there, or at least we hadn’t at the time we left.”

“Getting the Faith back into action may be critical toward our success either way.”

“I know that!  But I’m in charge here and I’m telling you weren’t not going to attack these people.  End of discussion.  We will return to the bazaar, grease some palms, and see if anybody is trading with them.”

“We also don’t have a proper threat assessment,” said Marcon.  “We could be outnumbered ten to one.  I appreciate your enthusiasm, lieutenant, but Kitsune is right.  Hopefully we can also find a halfway-decent medical facility.  If there’s nothing else, we should move out.”

The team arranged themselves for travel, and headed south.  Their return trip to the bazaar was uneventful, but took longer than the trip north due to Eva’s injury.  They stopped before the streets got too crowded, about two blocks from the bazaar, to take off their suits and return to their casual clothing.  Eva, unfortunately, had no replacement for her pants, so she was stuck with one pant leg and no way to hide the dermaplasts.

“All this changing of clothes had been kind of embarrassing for me,” Vecky said softly to Eva.

“There’s no modesty in this line of work,” said Cane, both surprising Vecky and causing her to blush.

“Seeing the way you and Talyn carry on, I should have known.”

Talyn said, “Nah, he’s just a nosy jerk with no shame.”

Though the bazaar wasn’t as busy as earlier that day, there was still plenty of activity, and Cane noticed there were more food carts than before.  At Marcon’s suggestion, they began to walk around the periphery of the area in a counter-clockwise direction, at first away from the Winged Horse.  They’d have to do almost a full circle to get back to the bar, which was the point.  They had barely explored the area that morning.

It was only a few minutes later that they found a medical clinic, situated in a former single-family home.  Alsade peered through the front windows, then went inside for a minute before coming back out.

“It seems sanitary enough,” she said.  “You’ll have to leave your rifles with us if you choose to get treated here, though.”

Helvetios said, “Captain Kitsune, Mister Venator, Mister Talyn, you might as well get a second opinion on your injuries.  Miss Adeler, I’m satisfied that your leg was sufficiently sterilized when I applied the dermaplasts.  You shouldn’t need any follow-up treatment, but keep in mind that only a qualified surgeon should remove them before the gel is completely absorbed.  So unless they happen to have one in there…”

“I trust your judgment,” said Eva.  “I’ve used dermaplasts before, I think I’ll be okay.  I could use some high-quality painkillers once we’re out of danger, though.”

“Couldn’t we all?  Don’t worry, the infirmary on the Rastaban is well-stocked, we’ll set you up.”

“As is the one on the Fox,” added Vecky.

“Alsade, Adeler, I suggest you stay here,” said Marcon.  “The rest of us will start prodding for information about the Illuminated Path.  If we can’t make contact with each other, meet at the Winged Horse in one hour.  The alternative rally point will be the southern entrance to the bazaar.”

“Sounds good, see you soon.”

They passed off their rifles to the others, and a reunited Alpha team entered the clinic.  As Alsade had indicated, it was bright and clean in the lobby.  Eva spoke with the nurse behind the counter and worked out a payment.  Fortunately, she only had to fork over one gold ingot for all of them.  The nurse quickly triaged everyone, and asked Cane to come in first.  A Primarian doctor smoking a cigarette met him in the exam room and removed the old bandage.  The wound had stopped bleeding.  He grabbed a bottle of rubbing alcohol.

“This may cause some discomfort,” he said, thoroughly soaking a large ball of cotton.

“You think?”

Cane sucked air through his teeth as the doctor sterilized his calf.  He then used several dry cotton balls to dab away the alcohol.

“Trouble is never hard to find in this city.  I take it you found out the hard way.”

“We wandered into the territory of the Illuminated Path.”

“That’ll do it.  Do you want a dermaplast or a conventional dressing?”

Cane looked at the half-assed job the man had done disinfecting his leg.  “Conventional.”

“Yeah, that’s probably all you need.  Just change this out every few hours.  Nurse Sigonilo will sell you a few more up front.”

“We have plenty of regular bandages, thanks.  So what’s the deal with the Illuminated Path, anyway?  Are they just thieves or what?”

He began to apply the bandage.  “You should have found that out before you left Shining Beacon’s territory.”

“We knew they were followers of the Kira’To.  They aren’t known to be overtly hostile in most of their variations.”

“All it takes is a charismatic leader to steer them in the wrong direction.  Look at Jinro Praxis.”

“Sorry, who?”

“Leader of Shining Beacon.  He teaches peace and love and all that other crap.  Personally I don’t think the Kira’To even care, so who’s to say which group is right?”

“Probably neither.  How does IP sustain itself?  They can’t possibly get enough food and water for their people without help.”

Sparks fell from the end of his cigarette, almost landing on Cane.  “If you could answer that question, you could sell the info to Shining Beacon for a tidy profit.  Too many shepherds, and the wolf will have its fill.”

“What?  Never mind.  Is there anybody you know around here that might be foolish enough to do business with IP?”

He finished securing the bandage, and gave Cane a hard look.  “That was the type of question a Regulator might ask.  No, valued client, I don’t know.  You’re good here, avoid strenuous exercise for the next couple of weeks.”

“Thanks, doc.”

Cane went back into the lobby.  The nurse ushered Vecky into the exam room.  Cane winked at her as she passed him.

“Better?” asked Talyn.

“Yes.  I was able to glean a little bit of information from the doctor, including the name of the leader of Shining Beacon.  As far as the Illuminated Path, that info may be harder to come by.”

“It couldn’t be that easy, My Old.”

“I wasn’t expecting it to be.  Let’s hope Bravo team has better luck.”