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  The Equiri, its coat black as coal and its ebony eyes gleaming with rage, snorted and lowered the rifle’s barrel toward the ground. Larger than most Equiri, the dark figure’s maw curled in an approximation of a smile. It spoke with a deep, raspy voice that caused a chill to ripple through Chinayl’s antennae even through the translation pendant around its neck.

  “Chinayl.”

  The MinSha general’s mouth fell open. What little saliva she possessed evaporated in a matter of seconds. She spoke softly. “You.”

  “Yes,” the Equiri replied. “You know why I am here? Why I’ve sought you out?”

  There weren’t many options. “I will match or exceed the offer on my head.”

  The Equiri laughed. “You do not have access to the funds or the credits to exceed what the Guild Master generously offered for your death.”

  Chinayl closed her mouth. “Peepo ordered this?”

  “She requested it. You proved harder to find than I anticipated. Following your forces, though, proved easy. Logistics are always a clue to operational intent.” The Equiri adjusted its grip on the large rifle. “But given the time and resources, I can find anything for a price.”

  Chinayl nodded. “Your reputation precedes you.”

  “I’ve been gone for far too long to believe such a statement, Chinayl.” The Equiri laughed again. “The only reputation I have is measured by the results of my actions. You are no different.”

  “But I am,” Chinayl blurted. “This force I’ve created is yours if you spare my life.”

  “What would I do with a force?” The dark figure laughed.

  “Destroy the Peacemaker Guild. They are in hiding. If there is anyone in the galaxy capable of finding them, it’s you.” Chinayl spoke slowly. “With my forces, at your bidding, there would be no stopping you.”

  The Equiri looked away for a moment, considering. “Your offer is generous, Chinayl. But I am afraid there is nothing you can do to avoid your death.”

  Behind the massive figure, she saw Regaa stir. The acting commander rolled silently to her abdomen and placed her foreclaws on the ground, as if to spring at the Equiri. Chinayl let an antenna dip in warning, and her subordinate froze in place. To surprise the Equiri, they needed to stall for time and give the other security forces the opportunity to arrive. Regaa had to be thinking the same thing.

  “I will complete the mission given to me,” Chinayl said quickly. “Victoria Bravo will fall. Did you not see my report? There was treason within the ranks of my subordinates. Victoria did not fall because—”

  The Equiri raised a large forehand. “Your mission failed because you failed to lead it.”

  “What do you know of leadership?” Chinayl blurted, suddenly enraged. “How dare you insult me?”

  “You failed, Chinayl. Failure has a cost.”

  He brought the rifle up and centered it on her thorax. Chinayl changed her tack. Regaa remained frozen in place, her antennae bobbing in doubt. “The Peacemakers deserve to fall for what they did to you. You should never have—”

  The figure pulled the trigger once. Chinayl felt the heat of the laser penetrate her unprotected carapace. Numbness spread from the wound and detached her senses. She looked down at the small hole, a precision laser fired from a large weapon, and back up at the Equiri. The wound wasn’t immediately fatal.

  Why?

  “You could have had so much more,” Chinayl whispered. “You never...”

  The Equiri whinnied in laughter. “You realize I will take what is yours along with the million credits for your head, don’t you, General?”

  The spoils of war. Chinayl nodded. Her vision tunneled, shrinking as her life force faded. “I understand. I thought you might consider letting me live.”

  “You failed, General. You failed your Guild, and you failed General Peepo. That is why I am here—to take that life you crave so desperately. Before you die, General,” the Equiri paused for a moment and stared a hole through her, “what were your true intentions? Another half-hearted run through the outer rim?”

  Chinayl ground her lower jaw. “Victoria Bravo, first. Eradicate the Human colonies there and appease Peepo. I still have a valid contract to execute. If I do, perhaps I will retain my seat on the Council.”

  “You said first. What did you mean?”

  Chinayl chittered a sound resembling a short, barking laugh. “The Peacemaker Guild is after James Francis and Intergalactic Haulers. They’ve dispatched a small team to find him. I have them under observation on Araf. Victory Twelve arrived some time ago, and if things went according to plan, the bounty hunter hired by the Peacemakers and her team have also arrived to prepare for their mission. When they move, we will follow them. They want Snowman? They’ll have to come through the Mercenary Guild to get him. We will take whatever he has and earn Peepo’s trust again.”

  “You are far beyond regaining trust, Chinayl.” The Equiri smiled, his large front teeth exposed for the first time. The disgraced Enforcer, once the best of the Peacemakers, centered the rifle’s barrel on her head. “Your forces are mine, and your death satisfies your Guild’s wishes.”

  “Honored Kr’et’Socae, please. There has to be a—”

  The Equiri drew a second weapon, a large laser pistol, from the holster on his left thigh. Without looking he leveled it at Regaa. “What are your intentions, commander?”

  Regaa stood slowly. Her voice was low. “What are your orders, sir?”

  Kr’et’Socae turned back to Chinayl. “It appears I have everything I need now, Chinayl. And so shall you.”

  Chinayl saw a brief flash of light, and that was all.

  * * * * *

  Chapter Two

  D’nart Spaceport

  Araf

  A spread of CASPers and tanks stalled in their attack, and a thousand feral Oogar, a seething mass of teeth, claws, and purple fur, descended upon them. Tara Mason used the external camera from Deathangel 25 to study the oncoming threat and the stalled attack simulation. Eight mechas, the Combat Assault Suit Personal (CASPer) Mk 7 heavy weapons variants, and an armored platoon of four tanks comprised her force. Ahead of them, in the slightly pixelated line of trees, were the Oogar. The giant, purple grizzly bears on acid gathered their forces for another charge. In her earpiece, Tara could almost hear their ungodly screaming as they attacked in one immense wave.

  Without taking her eyes off the feral mass, Tara switched her command and control systems to active. Her intent—at least the one she’d briefed to the team—where she’d said she’d stay out of the simulation and see how they responded, appeared ready to be thrown out. The company frequency came alive with frustrated chatter and ominous warnings. Forcing herself not to act, Tara chewed on her lower lip and did the one thing a commander never wanted to do. She waited. Her CASPer sat five hundred meters behind the frozen line of friendly vehicles. Away from the immediate threat, Tara listened to the frequency and let her eyes wander over the forces under the tentative command of Jackson Rains. The Peacemaker’s arguing over tactical employment of CASPers and tanks had grown so tiresome Tara decided to put him in command of the free-for-all simulation to see if he knew what he was talking about or if he’d finally learn to shut up and remember he wasn’t a tactical soldier.

  “Lucille? Standard report package on Rains and Bukk. I want to see who engages the targets with greater efficiency.”

  <>

  Tara laughed. “Probably not.”

  <> Lucille replied. <>

  Tell me something I don’t know. Tara nodded to herself but did not reply. Lucille, her near-sentient assistant, served many purposes, from CASPer copilot to friend. Together, they led the nascent Force 25. Yet their lea
dership hadn’t resulted in an actual departure from Araf. The Peacemaker Guild hadn’t mandated a departure date for their mission, and while they’d been logistically ready for more than two weeks, the unit clearly had some challenges. Without a coherent methodology for combat operations, they’d find way too many opportunities to do exactly what the simulated Oogar mission would prove and find a quick death. In a simulation, death was a blank screen and sudden silence. The galaxy wasn’t generally so accommodating.

  Given the situation on Earth, which was besieged by Peepo and the Mercenary Guild, there were few places in the galaxy where Humans could come and go without hindrance. Araf was one of those worlds. Part of that had been the result of Jessica Francis’ mission to sort out their differences and put down two mercenary companies. Tara had been on that mission, but she’d not managed to get out from under the first Human Peacemaker’s considerable shadow.

  With two more of the galaxy’s constables in her care, and technically under her command, she’d experienced nothing but headaches for the last month. Barely a week after they’d arrived, Peacemakers Rains and Vannix had affected their overall morale. One was definitely positive and the other was no good at all.

  “Hey! Bukk! I told you to bound forward!” Rains called over the company frequency. “Get your ass in gear!”

  Tara kept her mouth shut by clamping down her teeth on her lower lip. Bukk, to his credit, was far less diplomatic. “Red One, you are out of position. If I bound forward now, the CASPers under my command die within three hundred meters of our positions. You have to take the high ground.”

  The objective Bukk meant was in the shallow valley. Tara saw, at her twelve o’clock, a promontory of rock no more than twenty meters higher than the valley floor. Rains and his tanks were a good two hundred meters away and stuck in what Tara called “no-go” terrain. The loose, wet clay snagged tracks and road wheels mercilessly. Rains, despite having seen this happen in five previous simulations, pushed his forces along the shortest path to the high ground. He’d believed a higher transition speed would be enough of an equalizer to allow mission success. He’d bet wrong, and all four tanks were stuck in the worst possible position to support operations.

  “White One, I’m mired. You have to bound forward and set a perimeter defense around us,” Rains called. “We can hold off the Oogar with a coordinated defense.”

  Tara curled one side of her mouth under appreciatively. Maybe the young Peacemaker was right. From a tactical perspective, they could hold off the Oogar. However, without the ability to recover their vehicles, any delay would merely postpone the inevitable. They’d run out of ammunition before they managed to kill all of the attacking Oogar.

  “Understand, Red One. A bound forward leaves the left flank open.” Bukk was on the ball, as usual. From his position in command of a platoon of CASPers, the hole in the collective defense was wide enough to allow hundreds of feral Oogars to rush into position in minutes. The ant-like Altar would never fit in a mecha, but he commanded infantry with the skill of a professional soldier.

  “Red One, this is Blue One,” Vannix called. The Veetanho Peacemaker was, in reality, too small to fit into a CASPer, but she’d proven more than capable of understanding how a mobilized infantry force could fight effectively. “I’ll swing two CASPers your way as you bound to close off the hole. We’ll pivot and maintain suppressive fire.”

  Impressed, Tara caught herself nodding. It could work.

  “Just do it, Blue One. Get your ass moving, Bukk,” Rains replied.

  <> Lucille chimed.

  “Understand, Lucille. Get ready to kill him off,” Tara said.

  <>

  “There’s no bigger failure than dying when you should have done everything possible to succeed.”

  <>

  Tara decided that was fair. Rains, like any leader, was trying to make the best of a bad situation. She’d let it play out. The main effort of the Oogar attack, four hundred heavily armored infantry forces, was nearly into attack position. It could wait.

  “You’re right, Lucille. Let it play. But speed up the Oogar infantry’s approach by a minute or so.”

  <>

  Tara smiled. Before she could reply, Bukk engaged his CASPer’s jumpjets. Four Mk 7 suits jumped across the company’s position toward the higher ground. The Oogar, traditionally unable to counter such movements, hesitated at the sight of four mechas taking flight.

  “Blue one, moving!” Vannix called. Two of her CASPers moved forward and closed off the positions Bukk’s forces had vacated. The move was almost flawless.

  <>

  “Give me a feed into Bukk’s see-two fields.”

  Lucille opened a small window on Tara’s display allowing her to see what Bukk saw and how he aligned the four CASPers under his command. Bukk only piloted one, while the other three acted as non-playing characters that Lucille monitored and played as necessary. If they saw combat, Bukk wouldn’t be able to mount a tank without significant individual armor nor would he fit inside anything smaller than a dropship.

  Jackson Rains was young and brash, but capable. Vannix, befitting a Veetanho Peacemaker, was a tactical genius whom Tara found herself trusting more than she should, given the situation on Earth. Bukk, the Altar tactical specialist, had served with Jessica Francis and her father, albeit briefly. He knew more about how other races fought than anyone Tara had ever met. Together, they were a decent team. A start, really. She knew they needed to add to their numbers, yet they did not possess enough hardware or materiel for additional forces. Hardware would be easier to find, but they’d have to recruit more forces in the coming weeks, before undertaking their mission in earnest. The four of them couldn’t do this alone. Finding Jessica’s father was the primary mission, and as much as Tara wanted to believe they could do it on their own, she knew better. The team couldn’t find Snowman built as it was.

  Especially if Jackson Rains continued to sacrifice them at will.

  <>

  In the cockpit, Tara crossed her arms and watched as the situation around Rains and his tanks imploded in seconds. Bukk and Vannix closed in, moving their forces like the jaws of a vise, trying to channel and contain the Oogar in a tight field of fire between them. As they did, Rains and his tanks coiled on each other with their guntubes pointed outward. Tara’s eyebrows shot up. Rains had finally learned what tankers did when confronted with infantry forces. With the tanks positioned in a circle, their gun tubes out, they could hold out until their ammunition was exhausted. The simulated, feral Oogar did not possess enough artillery to target and reduce a group of tanks to a slag pile. It was a good move that was immediately spoiled.

  “Final perimeter fire!” Rains called. The non-playing character tanks responded immediately and spewed automatic weapons fire, including their electromagnetically charged main guns, at everything around them. In seconds, CASPers on both sides of the Oogar sustained heavy damage. Two dropped off the simulation entirely, their hulls collapsing into the simulated terrain, billowing thick white smoke.

  “What are you doing! Red One cease—” Vannix called. The icon for her CASPer winked out. Three seconds later, Bukk’s icon disappeared as well.

  “What is he doing?” Tara said aloud. “Cease fire! Cease fire!”

  <>

  “How many friendly casualties?”

  <ation, their pilots would all be dead.>>

  Dammit.

  “End the simulation, Lucille.”

  <>

  Tara pressed the transit button. “Force 25, stand to outside your vehicles right now.”

  As she went through the shutdown checklist by memory, she heard voices in the bay outside. Any semblance of reason and logic went out the window as the collective volume rose higher and higher. Rains was out of his CASPer, charging toward Bukk’s ground-mounted station. By the time Tara swung Deathangel 25’s cockpit door up, Rains and Bukk were nearly swinging at each other. For a moment, she considered letting them fight. Rains had it coming.

  Tara climbed up in her seat, removing her legs gingerly before stepping over the front console and out of the CASPer’s open cockpit. She sucked in a breath and clenched her diaphragm like she’d learned at CASPer school. There was no substitute for a good command voice.

  “Enough!”

  * * *

  Tara vaulted down from Deathangel 25 and stomped across the bay floor. Victory Twelve’s main hangar bay was fitted with one tank and three CASPers, including hers. The mechas were reconstituted and refitted Angels from their previous mission on Araf. Without Xander Alison and his team’s ability to find parts, they would have been nothing more than hangar queens used for spare parts. Now, they could fight. The rest of the team could fight too, but more often, they fought with each other.

  “I told you to move!” Rains bowed his chest at Bukk. The Altar towered over the latest Human Peacemaker, his antennae wiggling in a mixture of frustration and abject rage. “You were out of position!”