Giles Kurns_Rogue Instigator Page 15

  She felt a blinding pain. Then everything went black.

  Aboard the Scamp Princess, Ferrai Quadrant, nearing Mallifrax-8

  Bill sat collapsed back in the console chair where he had originally seated himself, his atmosjacket flung over the console as if it too had been drinking for the last hour.

  Giles smiled, knowing full well that the bottle he’d selected was spiked with the equivalent of Yoll vodka as well, making it super strong.

  Bill’s head lolled back, blissfully relaxed in what Giles suspected was probably the best sleep he’d had in a while. Just then, he snorted, waking himself a little. Scratching his nose, he rolled over, restricted by his harness, before settling into an even deeper sleep.

  Scamp’s image appeared on Giles’s right-hand holoscreen in front of him. “Ok. We’ve located the person you need to speak to. He’s Brahms’s boss’s boss.”

  Giles mapped the relationship in his brain, making sure he understood. “Ok, great. And he understands what we want to do?”

  “We’ve briefed him. But he wants to see who he’ll be working with.”

  “Sounds like my kind of chap. Ok. Patch him through.”

  Scamp disappeared from the console and flicked up a new holoscreen showing an older gentleman against a cityscape backdrop. The man was Estarian it seemed, and he looked like he harkened back to the olden days when people wore a certain type of atmosuit in the office. Giles tried to place the background behind him but couldn’t.

  “Greetings, good sir!” Giles chirped. “I hear you may be the answer to our problems?”

  The gentleman smiled. “Well, happy to help out mining communities where I can. Just want to make sure it’s the right situation for us. You know . . . a good match, as they say.”

  “Couldn’t agree more,” Giles smiled. “So I understand you’ve had a general brief about what we’re proposing?”

  The two men talked. It turned out that the boss’s boss was working off a planet somewhere in the Federation, but he knew of the Sark System where Brahms had met the Sanguine Squadron. Turned out, he’d even had him over for dinner so he could regale him and his wife of his harrowing adventure.

  “Well, Mr. Woodward,” Giles concluded, “you’re sounding fairly positive about the proposal.”

  “Indeed, I am. I think it’ll be a nice way to do some good in that corner of the galaxy. . . and indeed, we may even be able to make some money from it long term.” He moved away to check some details on his holoscreen. “Looks like we could probably get some equipment there in a couple of months. Unless the MacKegans just want us to take over the lease and buy them out.” He came back to the camera. “Either way is good for me. We’ve done both before.”

  Giles visibly relaxed. “Oh, great. Ok, this is good. I didn’t realize this was something that went on . . .”

  “Buying and selling leases and options on equipment? Oh, yeah… just like any other market. Perfectly normal . . . as long as it makes good business sense,” Woodward explained.

  “Well, excellent. I’ll have you hooked up with my contact over there, and we’ll go from there.”

  “Excellent. Mr. Kurns, it’s been a pleasure doing business with you.”

  “Likewise, Mr. Woodward. Likewise.”

  And with that the call disconnected and Scamp’s face came back up on the console screen. “Jeez. Listening to you two is like a very dull version of something out of Jane Austen.”

  Giles frowned, racking his brain for the reference. “Austen?”

  Scamp rolled zirs eyes. “Nevermind, I see my sense of humor is wasted here . . .”

  Giles laughed out loud despite his concerns.

  Bill, next to him, stirred again and opened his eyes. “Mhhuuu?” he grunted. “What did I miss?”

  Giles settled himself down. “Oh, not much. Just the bit where we found the missing piece to the puzzle so that your guys can continue mining and make you a shit-ton of money.”

  “Moh. Oh, good,” he mumbled, before closing his eyes again.

  “Great,” Giles said quietly. “Ok, Scamp, take us into orbit as soon as we get within range. I’m going to washup and get ready for whatever we need to face down there.”

  “Righty-ho!” Scamp called after him as Giles get to his feet and ambled out of the cockpit. “You may want to rehydrate your friend before we land, too. Just in case you need him to be functional.”

  “Kay . . .” Giles called back from halfway down the ship.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Inside the Logan den, Mallifrax-8 Mines

  The den was dark compared to the light levels outside. The single exposed bulb swung idly from side to side on its makeshift hook.

  Arlene didn’t know where she was. Only that her head hurt like a motherfucker.

  “Holy shit in a fuck storm of android piss . . .” Arlene muttered, finding her mouth faster than her eyes.

  “Guys . . . she’s waking up.” It was Bokmom’s voice. It was slightly anxious. It was the voice of a man who had a tiger caged and was safe for now but was very aware that tigers can jump fences and break cages.

  “Good,” Razeene chuffed.

  She heard a dragging sound. Probably a chair, because when she opened her eyes and looked up, she saw Razeene arms-length from her, leaning on the back of the chair, facing her. His skinny legs were spread one either side of the seat.

  Classic mistake, she thought, remembering all the drills she’d been through on being taken hostage.

  She smirked at him. “You’re feeling real cocky right now, eh? Got yourself an Estarian to torment . . . but what you don’t realize is that you have bigger fish to fry. They’re coming for you, and I’ll bet it’s because you did something stupid.” Her rouse started working fast.

  Razeene began vibrating with anger, though he was trying to keep his cool so he could be a wise-ass. “Well well boys,” he said, turning awkwardly, trying to bring his friends into the conversation. “It speaks! The traitor speaks!”

  Arlene noticed Voyved standing anxiously by the door as if he didn’t want to be a part of what was going down. “What are you talking about? Traitor?” she asked, more irritated than afraid.

  “Don’t deny it. You’re working with Gilmurry. We saw you going in to one of his shuttles . . . like you owned the place. Obviously, he sent you down here to try and stop us from revolting. He leaned closer, menace in his eyes. “Well you failed. We’ve been arming up for days, and now we’re an army.”

  “Army?” she scoffed. “You’re barely an annoyance! If you saw those Mechs and that army assembling out there, you’d know you don’t stand a chance. They’re going to wipe you out in an instant. Why do you think they’re taking their time?”

  “They’re delaying. We’re the oncoming storm.”

  Arlene overtly rolled her eyes. “They’re sitting out there making tea and tidying up their ore so that it makes it easier when they send the cleanup crew in.”

  She watched his third eye flicking from left to right as he thought about what she was saying. “I’m telling you, they’re protecting the materials they’ve gathered, tidying it away, and then they’re coming for you,” she repeated.

  Razeene was looking shaken. “Yeah? And then who is going to mine the ore for them?”

  Bokmom clicked his homemade cattle prod threateningly.

  Arlene rolled her eyes at the pair of them. “The next ship full of dumb schmucks they bring in on the promise of the Logan dream, of course.”

  His mind churned. What he didn’t notice was that all the time they were speaking, Arlene was quietly working behind her back to loosen her restraints.

  They hadn’t taken any chances. Her ankles were strapped to the chair legs, and her hands tightly restrained around her back. Probably with some kind of industrial ties they had lying around here. There was no way even she was getting loose without help. Despite her bravado, she was screwed.

  Fuck . . . I need quiet to burn through these things, she thought. Or a knife. Her e
yes darted around. Or a laser tool. She carefully took in what was in the room, using her peripheral vision so as not to tip off any of the other nine eyes in the room.

  She was coming up empty. One last resort.

  “Ok, here’s the deal. I’m going to put the cattle prod and hostage thing down to you, being stupid and scared . . . IF you untie me right now and let me figure out how to fix this shit you’ve got everyone into.” Her voice was even. Commanding.

  “If you don’t,” she continued, “I’m going to rain all colors of hell on you, and you’ll wish not only that you didn’t pull such a fucking dumb ass stunt, but that you’d never been conceived by your ugly mothers!”

  Silence fell on the room.

  Razeene shifted awkwardly. Bokmom watched, waiting for the reactions of the other two to follow their lead.

  Arlene could feel her heart beating.

  Razeene got up and shuffled back. Then he smirked.

  Shit. He’s not going for it.

  “Taze her!” he ordered Bokmom.

  Bokmom moved towards her, switching the prod on and off, showing her the raw, pulsing charge. He grinned, sadistically. “You don’t get to talk about my Mom like that . . .” he said quietly, moving in on her.

  “What the fuck’s going on?” an Estarian voice interrupted.

  Anne stood in the doorway, horrified. Her eyes went straight to Voyved in a look of utter betrayal. “I thought you were my friends?”

  Razeene wheeled around on her. “This isn’t your fight, little girl. Go back to your playpen.” He smirked arrogantly and turned back to Arlene.

  Arlene looked strangely serene. Despite the fact that she’d just heard Anne use an f-bomb. Her serenity, however, should’ve been a clue to the Queegert. But as Arlene kept having to remind herself—Queegerts. Not. That. Smart.

  Suddenly, the atmosphere in the room thickened with energy, and the light started to flicker. Anne’s horror turned to anger, which quickly turned to fury. Intense Estarian fury.

  It started as a hum in the wiring in the room and got louder and louder. The light bulb suddenly exploded as if supercharged with a million volts.

  The hum turned to a rumble through the whole cavern, and the Queegerts looked at each other in terror. They knew how deep they were. They knew how easy it was for mines to collapse. But it was already too late.

  They turned to see the young Estarian, her eyes ablaze with power and raw emotion. A whirlwind had started around her. She raised her hands, looking at them with strange wonderment at what was happening.

  Bokmom moved towards her, his cattle prod ready to do some damage. Anne saw him coming, and in an instant, the charge was like someone pushed up the handle to electrocute the holder.

  Bokmom fell back, his hand fused and gripping the weapon that shocked him continuously. His body convulsed on the floor.

  Voyved was already through the door and running through the tunnel as fast as his inadequate legs would carry him.

  Anne headed towards Arlene. “Need some help?” she asked casually.

  Arlene smiled. “Wish I had a fireball to get through these bounds,” she said.

  Anne grinned. She pulled her hands up together the way Arlene had shown her, and without any effort at all, produced an orange and red flaming fireball between her hands.

  Arlene nodded, impressed. “Ok, now tune the frequency to the frequency of the bands.”

  Anne scrunched her face up in concentration, her tongue slipping out of the side of her mouth.

  Arlene’s voice spoke quietly to her, half through sound and half in her mind. “Ok, now place the fireball in my direction. It won’t hurt me at that frequency . . .”

  Anne did as she was instructed, her hair still getting in her face from the whirlwind of emotion and energy that was filling the den.

  A second later, the fireball moved forward from her hands and enveloped Arlene. And then it dissipated. The wind stopped. The crackling and humming in the wiring stopped. The rumbling stopped.

  Arlene got up. Her bounds fell away from her as she moved. Turning, she saw a petrified Razeene pointing a rifle at them. It was Arlene’s turn to be enraged.

  In one swift crescent kick, she knocked the rifle out of his hands. That would’ve been enough, but she was now piiiiissed. He’d had his warning. Now it was time for him to know what he was really dealing with.

  The sounds of cries and screams echoed through the mines, all the way to the main tunnel. A panting Voyved slowed his pace, then had to stop, fighting against a stitch that was searing his abdomen. He listened to the screams of pain of his former friend.

  Maybe Arlene the Terrible was an appropriate name for her after all, he thought grimly.

  Inside the Logan den, Mallifrax-8 Mines

  Razeene lay alive, barely conscious and in lots of pain.

  Turns out, their hard exteriors weren’t so hard that a good kicking couldn’t get through to their softer innards.

  Arlene casually wiped the blood off on her pants. “Ugh,” she grunted in disdain. “Hope this comes out.”

  Anne stepped forward. “I’d talk to Molly. She has some tricks she’s developed for that.”

  Then without warning or ceremony, she stepped forward to the spread-eagled Queegert, and with one swift kick, belted him in the gonads.

  “AGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.”

  The scream rang out through the tunnels again.

  Arlene bobbed her head to one side, impressed. “Didn’t think he was conscious enough to scream.”

  Anne wasn’t done. She stepped over his leg and looked him in the one eye that wasn’t swollen closed. “That’s for fucking with my friend.”

  Razeene looked like he was going to say something but then lost the will and went limp.

  Arlene recognized the transition in him. “Ah. There we go. Now he’s done. We still have the bigger problem of the invading army to deal with.”

  Anne’s terror returned to her eyes. “What are we going to do? How do we stop them?”

  Arlene shook her head, picking up the blaster off the floor, before leading the way out. “No idea. This isn’t my area. I’m normally in and out before this kinda shit goes down.” She cocked the blaster by holding it by the shaft and shaking it abruptly downwards. It buzzed to life, and she slung it casually over her shoulder.

  Anne followed. Carefully.

  Mallifrax-8, Mines

  Anne and Arlene emerged from the tunnel, exhausted.

  Anne started to step out into the natural light, but Arlene immediately put her arm up to stop Anne from advancing any further.

  Anne peered out, trying to see past her guardian. Her jaw dropped as she surveyed the scene ahead of them. The mining Queegerts, the Logans, were fighting with little more than brooms and blaster-like weapons they’d cobbled together from equipment they’d been able to get hold of.

  “What now?” she asked, utterly dismayed.

  “Now,” Arlene responded with a matter-of-fact tone, “we need to stop a war.”

  Just ahead of them, this side of the encampment, the Logans were assembling, carrying homemade cattle prods and various kinds of blasters and flame throwers. They had the air and organization not of an army, but that of an angry mob.

  “Dumb fucks,” Arlene chuffed. “They’re going to get themselves killed.”

  And then she noticed what was happening on the other side of the settlement. The army that she’d seen gathering was now mobilized and heading their way.

  “We’re soooo fucked,” she muttered under her breath.

  Anne brought her back to the immediate problem. “What do we do? Run?”

  Arlene shook her head and pulled the blaster off her shoulder. “No. You run,” she instructed firmly. “Run as fast as you can and get back to the cabin and wait for Giles. I’m going to see what I can do here.” She turned to stare down the defiant adolescence. “GO! That’s an order, else you’re never coming on one of these missions again.”

  Anne’s
eyes lit up. “Does that mean if I do as I’m told, I can come again?”

  Arlene glared at her. “GO!”

  Relenting, but knowing she had the ammunition to fight that argument another day, Anne scampered off towards the hillside to hide in the undergrowth and find a way to safety.

  Arlene turned her attention on the Queegerts and marched forward into their midst. By the time she reached them, two of the Mechs had started advancing with a wave of the uniformed personnel.

  Without announcing herself or asking permission, Arlene flew into the battle with the rifle, her fists, very effective feet, and her fireballs, which she used strategically when she could.

  One uniformed Queegert after another fell in her wake.

  Blood squirted, flew and glugged out of various wounds and orifices, one body after another.

  Covered in blood and sweat, her blaster failing to charge after several minutes, she reverted to using it as a stick, thwacking and thumping anything that came close to her.

  Other Logans, realizing she was on their side, rallied behind her, feeding uniforms her way and letting her destroy the ones they couldn’t.

  It was exhausting. She operated like a machine. But they just kept coming.

  Between losing her blaster in taking out two Queegerts and being thrown a cattle prod by a supporter, she glanced up to see what felt like a sea of more uniforms heading her way.

  Someone’s obviously realized I’m the biggest threat to their resources, she noted.

  And that was when she saw them. Not only were the Queegerts coming at her, but so were the two Mechs, with the third one just mobilizing on the other side of the settlement.

  Oh shiiiiiiit!

  She paused, almost getting her head knocked off by a lunging Queegert. She swerved, allowing him to fall past her . . . straight onto a butterfly kick.

  But the legions and Mechs kept coming.

  She put her hands together to summon a fireball. If I can hit one leg on each of them, then I could knock them over, she thought.