THE PRIZE: BOOK TWO - RETRIBUTION (33 page)

“Well, yeah, he did rescue us from these slavers.” Class shook his head.

“He did more than that. He saved your cities from getting bombed into rubble many times over, and he’s about to get dirty all over again just to save one woman, Major Ellis. Anyone that gets in the way of his doing that is going to die.”

Penn stood in the darkened loading bay and cleared his mind. He didn’t need any distraction from what he was about to do. He put the memory of Ellis in a nice safe place in his mind and closed the door and eased the twin blades on his thighs in and out their scabbards to make sure they were lose. As a precaution in case his description had reached this far out from Telluria Prime, he slipped on a pair of dark shades to hide his eyes. The bay door rumbled open and he saw ten people on the other side. They were a mixed bunch, some human, a couple of Tellurian Surls, two Estarians, and a couple of others he couldn’t identify. Not that it mattered. Either they’d leave or they’d be dead.

“I’m here for my ship, asshole!”

“Told you before. This isn’t your ship anymore.”

“Then you’ll be dead, dickhead.”

“Before you start shooting, I’d like to ask a question.”

“Ask away, not that it’s going to do you any good.”

“My question is for you guys. How much is this asshole paying you?”

“What’s it to you?” Someone shouted.

“Because it isn’t enough. Leave or die, your choice.” That brought a round of laughter.

“You and whose army, motherfucker?” One of the humans answered, lifting his weapon.

“That’s what I thought.” Penn flicked the thunder-flash onto the deck in front of them and went into full combat mode. The grenade exploded and time slowed down as he moved to the side out of the path of the incoming blaster and flechette rounds.

On the bridge, Class looked at the monitor, as did the rest. Smiling slightly seeing Penn blur as the group started firing in all directions. The rest just stood there in stunned disbelief as they watched men and aliens go down in a spray of blood and screams of pain. It was all over in less than a minute and Penn came to a standstill in front of asshole number one, as he put it. The man looked at him, shaking his head slightly before he fell, blood spurting from his severed jugular. The loading bay was a blood spattered mess with ten bodies laying about, dead or dying. Penn turned away and re-entered the ship. It was more than an hour before he arrived back on the bridge. It had taken him that long to scrub himself clean in the shower and find new clothes to wear. No one said a word when he came in, but he could see the look of fear in their eyes. It wasn’t something he hadn’t seen before, and he shrugged it off. Lowlife slavers and assorted scum didn’t deserve any mercy, nor was he going to shed a tear over any of them. They got what they deserved and that was the end of it.

“What now?” Class asked, equally unconcerned about the death of a few slavers as he eyed the monitor. Even now, the maintenance bots were removing the bodies and washing away the blood.

“Now we go and talk to the station boss.”

With Class carrying the heavy-duty flechette cannon in one hand that normally took a three-man crew to carry and operate, Penn didn’t need to carry anything except his knives. With Class walking behind him, he walked out onto the main concourse of the station looking as if he didn’t have a care in the world. Run down and worn out was his first impression of the inside of the station with shops and street markets cobbled out of anything handy. As expected, the shops ranged from drinking parlors to knocking shops, gambling dens, and places to eat. He wondered for a moment what they served in a place like this. Even a quick look showed a surprising variety of foodstuffs so they must be getting fresh products from somewhere. Pirated off cargo ships most likely, or some agro planet not too far away. Many of the open fronted stores sold a variety of items ranging from clothes to weapons and everything in-between. Everything was overpriced, including the air and water brought in from the asteroid belt. Penn was betting the docking fees were just as steep, as were resupplies of air, water, and H3 for the fusion reactors.

Word of the firefight was soon all over the station, along with the security cam video of the battle, and the motley crowd of people got out of his way in a hurry, few wanting to get into something that wasn’t their fight. It wasn’t long before he found out where the boss of this place had his office on the upper, more restricted area. Not that anyone stopped him as he walked up to each level, and it wasn’t long before he entered the station boss’ lavish quarters. Here he was met with an assortment of armed individuals, all careful not to point their weapons directly at him. Class on the other hand with no such restriction, moved into a corner, and pointed his weapon at the boss. The unspoken threat was that he would be the first to get shredded if anything went sideways. Penn took a seat in front of the boss’s deck and put his feet up as a direct insult. The ‘boss’ turned out to be an older Tellurian Var, whose florid face tightened as he looked down his long bony nose at his unwelcome visitor. Being a Var, he was unused to anyone not showing him disrespect, let alone a human. He amended that the moment he looked into those bright yellow eyes, feeling a shiver run down his spine when Penn removed his shades. How the human had done what he did in the docking bay was unknown, but it did give Var Clar Dirkoff pause. Before departing Telluria Prime in disgrace, he did hear of a yellow eyed human working for Director Markoff. Could this be one and the same? If so, what in the name of the Holy Mother was he doing here? Rumor had it that he was Markoff’s pet assassin and that brought a cold sweat to his armpits, and the thought of why he was here.

“There are two ways this can go, Tellurian.”

“And what way would that be, Human?” He snapped in return in an attempt to show his superiority.

“Like they say on Earth, the easy way, or the hard way.” The Var’s smooth brow pulled into a frown.

“I’m not sure I understand the reference.”

“The easy way is for you to tell me what I want to know.”

“And the hard way, as you say, is?”

“The hard way is that I kill everyone here except you. You, I slowly dismember until you tell me what I need to know.” Under any other circumstances Var Dirkoff would have laughed and had the being taken out and shot, or stuffed out an airlock without a suit. In this case, he had second thoughts, even if it was one unarmed human and an armed Gort. There was something, an aura emanating from the human that said he’d do exactly what he said. Add that to what he’d seen on the monitor made him think twice.

“And what is it that you want me to tell you?” There was no harm in asking, even if it was a distraction while he slowly placed his hand under the desk near his sidearm. Even as he did, the human smiled as if he knew exactly what he was doing.

“All you have to do is tell me the Nav coordinates of any and all slaver stations you know of.” Var Dirkoff blinked. He hadn’t expected that, and for a moment, he didn’t know what to say.

“Why in the name of the holy mother would you need to know that?” He blurted out before he could stop himself. He expected… well he didn’t know what he’d expected, some sort of demand, payment of some kind, secret information. Not that he knew any.

Many years ago, Director Markoff had given him this one chance to redeem himself and save his family from disgrace and he’d grabbed it. It was that or he’d have an ‘accident’. Taking over as the Director or boss of this station just meant he made sure the low life scum who used this place paid their dues on a regular basis, or died. He faithfully carried out those duties with vigor, enriching the Emperor and himself in the process for ten solar cycles. He’d also sent regular updates on ship movements and assorted intelligence data, along with the credits, thereby keeping IMPSEC and the Director up to date on the happenings in this part of the Empire. Now this and he wondered for a moment if the two weren’t connected. The human hadn’t identified himself as an IMPSEC agent, but then again, if he was working undercover, he wouldn’t.

“Get out!” He ordered as he removed his hand from the sidearm under his desk, and for a moment, his guards looked at him, then shrugged and filed out. “Director Markoff must have a lot of faith in you, human.” He said as the last guard exited and closed the door behind him. Even taken by surprise by the turn of events, Penn caught on immediately, and the tick at the corner of his mouth could have, with a slight stretch of the imagination, been called a smile. He thought he’d have to do it the hard way and spill more blood, but, if the Var wanted to believe he was Markoff’s agent, he wasn’t about to disillusion him.

“The Director and I see eye to eye on most things, in that he hates my guts and I hate his.” Var Dirkoff had to smile hearing that, and to his mind, it validated the strange-eyed man’s credentials. No one who’d ever met Director Markoff would call him a kindly, charitable, or a trusting being. However, it was better his strange visitor said such things openly rather than him to the hidden listening devices.

“I can give you the Nav locations of twenty six other IMPSEC stations in this sector of the Empire.”

“That will do for a start. I’ll pick up others as I make my inspection tour.” No harm in feeding the disinformation, who knew, it might come in handy. This far out from the center of the Empire it was doubtful they had any current information about him, other than he worked for Markoff. Penn could see that the confession on his part came as something of a shock to the Var.

“Oh I see. If I can assist you in any way, please ask.”

“Do you have regular contact with the other stations?” Penn asked casually.

“Just the monthly courier drones that make the rounds.”

“Anything from center?” Var Dirkoff shook his head, breathing easier now that he knew why the strange human was here. It was just like that filthy Surl Markoff to send an alien to check up on the rim stations. It didn’t totally negate his feeling of dread, or that he might end up dead at any moment and he quickly opened the safe and took out a data crystal, handing it to the human. Var Dirkoff flicked his eyes to the Gort standing in the corner, but he saw no sign of him relaxing his stance. The huge weapon never wavered and remained pointing in his direction.

“Excellent.” Penn murmured, pocketing the crystal. “I’ll need a place to clean up and rest, also the services of a decent tailor.”

“Of course.” Dirkoff answered, slightly puzzled.

“Playing the part of a slave trader had its uses till now, but as the Emperor’s hand I think I need to get into uniform for my inspection tour.”

“I understand perfectly. We wouldn’t want anyone thinking you were just another mad human.” Var Dirkoff’s laugh sounded a little hollow. Even as Penn sat there, the outline of a plan formed in his mind. The question was, what to do about the humans aboard the slave ship.

“I’ll need access to your data systems for a while. I need to make some arrangements for the humans aboard my ship.”

“You could just sell them here. I’m sure there are a few traders who’d take them off your hands...” The look he received in return from those yellow eyes at this suggestion brought back the specter of immediate death, and he quickly changed the suggestion. “…on the other hand, I could offer them good accommodations until you returned?”

“No need.” Penn answered dryly. “I’ll make all the arrangements for their future myself.”

“Of course. Please feel free to use my terminal.” He added hastily. “Just let me enter the password.” Var Dirkoff quickly walked to the terminal and tapped in his password. The sooner he got this human off the station the better he’d feel.

Penn sat with his hands on the keyboard, seeing the flashing warning for him to enter his clearance code. He didn’t know if his old one would work, seeing this station was so far out from the capital. Closing his eyes, he just let his fingers play across the keyboard, feeling rather than seeing the right sequence. The terminal beeped, and opening his eyes, he found he had level one clearance. So much the better. It didn’t take long to discover that IMPSEC had two long-range courier ships hidden on an asteroid about an hour’s flight from here. At this access level, he didn’t have to ask Var Dirkoff to generate a clearance and authorization to go anywhere in the Empire without anyone asking silly questions. As before, he added Markoff’s personal encryption code and authorization, smiling slightly thinking of Markoff having a stroke when he found out. How long that would be he had no way of knowing, several months he hoped. Now, not even a fleet admiral would dare question or stop the courier ship. Downloading everything to two data crystals, Penn took his leave, seeing the look of relief on the Var’s face as he left and headed to the tailors shop Var Dirkoff recommended.

Several hours later, fed and rested in a somewhat gaudy room in what passed for a five star hotel on the station, Penn sat cross-legged on the floor and meditated. First, he filled in the blank spots in his plan, smiling at the symmetry as each piece fitted into place. With his fake credentials and clearances, he could do anything he wanted along the rim and no one would dare question him. The same held true for the second courier ship, and he knew just where to send it, and the rest of the humans. For a while, he relaxed and sank deeper into a meditative state, concentrating his mind on Ellis.

“No matter where you are, my love, I will find you. Stay strong and do whatever you need to do to survive.” After that, somewhere along the line, he drifted off and his mind went blank, waking several hours’ later feeling completely refreshed and ready for action. He dressed and returned to Var Dirkoff’s office, finding no armed guards to greet him this time. Class still carried the heavy weapon, but at least he didn’t point it in the Var’s direction this time.

“I need you to sign a voucher for some funds, and the use of both the courier ships.” He stated without preamble.

“Funds… ships?”

“Yes.”

“But… but I need one here at all times according to orders.” Var Dirkoff spluttered.

“I’ve just changed the order.” The Var’s expression warred between anger and fear, but one look into the intense yellow eyes, and fear won out.