The Mercenary (The War Chronicles Book 1) Page 12

  In the morning, Zoran walked her to Pik’s before striding away with a fleeting caress of her face with his fingers.

  Saakshi missed him terribly once he was gone. She tossed and turned in her narrow dormitory bed at night, her mind racing with concern for Zoran even as she wondered how he fared with his ambitious plan. Most of her free time was spent exploring the station with Jolar, her designated escort, when not within the confines of the alehouse. In addition to Jolar, two other mercs had been delegated to stay behind on the station for her protection. These two Hadari’Kor males usually took turns to hang out at Pik’s during her shifts.

  Towards the end of her first shift on the fourth day without Zoran, three unfamiliar Ketaari males strode into Pik’s to approach the bar where Saakshi worked to assemble a tray of drinks. The lone Hadari’Kor present in the alehouse stood up alertly from his seat to head towards Saakshi. At first, Saakshi felt no fear, since the Ketaari males were attired in plain work-suits and not the dreaded uniform of the Imperial Forces.

  “Are you a Ketaari prisoner on contract to Trader Pik’s?” one of the males asked her in Ketar.

  Saakshi nodded mutely, dread slowly starting to trickle in.

  “We need to scan your bracelet” the male stated, showing her his tablet scanner.

  She lifted the gaudy gold sleeve of her uniform to expose her ownership bracelet. The male scanned the bracelet to peer owlishly at his tablet for the results. His two companions glanced around the partly crowded alehouse disinterestedly while the Hadari’Kor merc waited watchfully, a little distance away from the tableau being played out before him. Finally, the male perusing the tablet glanced up at her.

  “Your contract has been revoked. You will be taken back to Budheyasta to complete the rest of your prison sentence.”

  Saakshi managed to stave off her terror with Herculean effort. She forced herself to turn and meet the eyes of the Hadari’Kor merc watching alertly. Something in her tightly-leashed expression must have alerted the merc, for he took a hasty step towards her. Saakshi shook her head at him, warning him to stay away.

  “Get Jolar” she enunciated clearly to him in Alliance Standard.

  He paused infinitesimally to acknowledge her words before striding away, out of earshot. She guessed he was using his communicator to summon Jolar.

  “I need a few minutes to inform my boss about the contract” she said to the Ketaari male in his own language.

  “Sure” he agreed reluctantly. “We can have a glass of Portaar, but if he’s not here by then, we’re not going to await his pleasure” he added tartly.

  Saakshi turned to the other server girl, engaged in silently gawking at the Ketaari.

  “Call Pik. Tell him that my contract is being revoked.”

  The words had an extraordinary effect on the server. Everyone knew that an untimely contract revocation spelt bad news. Without wasting any time, the girl headed at a run to the back room where their communicator was located.

  Saakshi hurried to serve the three Ketaari males who had seated themselves at one of the tables close to the bar. Portaar was a strong Ketaari concoction with three different alcoholic ingredients that required careful and complex measurements and procedure.

  Pik walked in just as she finished serving the Ketaari their drinks. Jolar followed him in five standard minutes later.

  “What is this?” Pik bellowed, hustling into the alehouse to head over to the Ketaari table after a quick glance around the alehouse.

  “You’re supposed to give me notice before you revoke a contract. How am I supposed to replace her on such short notice? She’s about to start one of my busiest shifts. How will I manage with one less server girl?” he demanded belligerently.

  The Ketaari who had handled all previous communication with Saakshi glanced at Pik disinterestedly.

  “I’m just a crew on the Transport ship. We were a day away from Empire space when the Imperial Forces requested a special pick up from Keeyor 9 Trade Sphere.”

  “What do you mean, you’re just a crew member? I was assured during the auction by the Imperial Forces that they wouldn’t revoke any of my girls’ contracts without adequate notice. The only exception is breach of contract. Has she committed a breach?” he inquired angrily, pointing at Saakshi, who stood quietly behind the bar.

  “I don’t know, Trader, and I don’t care. My Captain’s orders are to deliver her to the Belarmi Prison on Budheyasta.”

  “Let me see the order” Pik held out his hand peremptorily. “There must be some mistake.”

  The Ketaari male typed a few strokes into his tablet before handing it over with an air of indifference. Jolar chose that moment to make his move to join Saakshi at the bar. Pik cast a fleeting glance at Jolar before continuing his perusal of the tablet.

  “Zoran knows about this and is on his way back as we speak, Saakshi” Jolar informed her, the urgency in his voice pronounced. “It will take the ship half a standard day to get back to the station at maximum speed. Yorgut is trying to ferret out everything he can about the Ketaari Transport that just docked at the station, including its flight plan. Zoran might make better time intercepting the Transport than making it back to the station in time.”

  Saakshi nodded mutely, letting Jolar know that she understood him. Zoran was on his way to her, and that was all she needed to know. It was the single and only bit of information capable of soothing her terror.

  Jolar moved in a little closer to Saakshi while Pik engaged the Ketaari in loud conversation.

  “Can you handle a few hours on the Transport as a prisoner, Saakshi? If not, tell me now. With Yorgut and Mintar’s assistance, I can get you away and hide you safely until Zoran gets here” he inquired urgently.

  Saakshi glanced at the bored-looking Ketaari males. They were not military and seemed in a hurry to leave. They’d probably just lock her up in the Cargo Hold of the Transport with the rest of their cargo and forget about her. She might starve due to their disinterest, but she doubted that they’d try any other type of abuse.

  “I can do it” she whispered back. “They’re not military and will not harm me in any way. If you help me evade them on this station, Jolar, you’ll become a fugitive in both Keeyori and Empire space. Zoran will need you in the coming days and you cannot aid him if you’re in hiding yourself.”

  “Are you sure, Saakshi?” he asked again. “Just say the word” he pleaded when she remained silent.

  “I’ll be fine” she reiterated confidently. “Just make sure you get the right flight plan to Zoran.”

  Nine

  Zoran stood watch by the enormous view screen at the epicenter of the circular Control Center. The room radiated an air of silent frenetic energy as the mercs focused their attention on their respective tasks, honed into exquisite understanding and efficiency by their years of working together under fire. By the Captain’s orders, their ship’s HiE drive was being pushed to the limits of its specification. Zoran had upgraded the drive six months ago, flush with currency from the latest Alliance contract. The upgraded drive had more than lived up to expectations since, and Zoran hoped like Penjem hell that it wouldn’t pick today of all days to throw a tantrum. He could ill afford the luxury of time today to coax or cajole the upgraded drive into holding up to its spec.

  “Captain” trilled a voice through his earpiece, drawing his attention.

  He had ordered the ship into full battle mode before commencing this mad rush to intercept the Ketaari Transport carrying Saakshi into Empire territory. For the crew, that had meant strapping on weapons and an earpiece that functioned as communicator and translator. The ship had been placed in battle alert protocol which meant that all communication was restricted through their communicator earpieces, unless a ship-wide emergency like breach or evacuation was announced through the starship's communicator system.

  Zoran turned his attention from the flashing space on the view screen to the male on the other side of the room requesting his attention. Bator’s voice
came clearly through his earpiece.

  “I see them on the sensors, Captain. The Transport’s signature matches Jolar’s information.”

  Zoran cursed under his breath. About time, he thought. Seven standard hours ago, a communique from his Ketaari source had informed him about the Empire’s revocation of Saakshi’s contract. At first, Saakshi’s changed status had not alarmed Zoran. Though the timing could certainly be better, Zoran had been confident that he had enough time to get her off Keeyor 9 before the Imperial Forces could take Saakshi into their custody. So, after a quick word with his brother, the Juntafeyore had set sail immediately for the Trade Sphere at high speed. Jolar’s urgent message while en route to the station had alerted him to the escalating exigency of the situation. Someone with considerable influence within the Empire had ignored the usual practice of dispatching a military ship to transport prisoners from neutral space, but had instead tasked a nearby civilian Ketaari Transport to do the job.

  Four hours had passed since Jolar’s transmission, with details of the civilian Ketaari Transport that had departed the Trade Sphere with Saakshi on board. By then, Zoran had already given the command to strain the HiE drive to sustained bursts of its maximum speed. A second and more dire communication from Jolar, who'd bribed a dock operator to obtain the information that Ghesh had also hitched a ride on the same Transport, had triggered Zoran to make the decision to push the drive to its theoretical spec limit.

  “How long before we intercept them?” he inquired tersely.

  “A little under two standard hours at their present trajectory and speed” said Bator’s voice in his ear.

  “Transmit the information to the other Hadari’Kor ships” he directed.

  “Yes, Captain” Bator signed off.

  The Juntafeyore had been rendezvoused with five other Hadari’Kor starships when news had reached Zoran from his Ketaari contact. His brother’s ship had sailed deeper into Alliance space to keep the pre-arranged meeting with the Alliance representatives, while the other ships had made the decision to follow Zoran to the Trade Sphere, their varying speeds based on their individual drive capabilities. Midway to the station, the ships had changed direction to match the Juntafeyore when it became clear that their mission was now to intercept a Ketaari ship before it could cross into Empire space with its precious Budheya cargo. The need to hammer out an agreement with the Alliance was suddenly of paramount concern. Zoran’s early overtures had been successful in recruiting enough Hadari’Kor to start negotiations, and his brother, Zatar, had received positive feedback on his early overtures to the Alliance. For Zoran though, the biggest spur for an urgent agreement was Saakshi’s new status. Once they freed her from the clutches of the Ketaari Transport, she would be on the run from the Empire – a dangerous prospect that he hadn’t wanted for her. There were other ways to mitigate her fugitive status, but Zoran understood her commitment to the Budheya cause and didn’t intend to put her in a position where she’d be forced to choose between her individual freedom and that of her people.

  “Martuf” he directed into his communicator. “Assemble a quick strike boarding party for the Transport. They’re not military, but I don’t want to take any chances.”

  “On it, Captain” replied his Third immediately.

  “And Martuf” Zoran added “You’ll be in command of the Juntafeyore when I lead the strike force.”

  “If you’re sure, Captain?” There was a short pause before Martuf asked the question.

  His decision went against the rules Zoran had laid out for his mercs – the warrior most familiar with the ship’s capabilities always stayed behind to command it. Their ship, with its state of the art weaponry, was a formidable asset in their arsenal. But only when commanded by someone who could wield it with precision at just the right moment to tear apart the opposition in any skirmish. In the hands of the wrong commander, the ship’s lethalness would be tempered. That had been Zoran’s logic when he had laid down the rules of engagement for his mercs.

  But Zoran was willing to break his own rules for this upcoming engagement. He intended to lead the team entrusted with bringing Saakshi back from the Ketaari. And in the absence of Jolar, who knew the ship almost as well as his Captain, it fell to Martuf to command the Juntafeyore. It helped that Zoran was confident in Martuf’s ability to handle any maneuvers the Juntafeyore might be called upon to play its part in Saakshi’s rescue. The strike force would board the Ketaari ship, in readiness to fight for Saakshi if necessary, but Zoran rather doubted that it would come to that. The very presence of a powerful Hadari’Kor warship intent on a fight, even without entourage of the other mercenary ships, would be sufficient for a Ketaari cargo ship to surrender Saakshi.

  “I’m very sure, Martuf” Zoran signed off.

  Transport Captain Tur Khosh had had better days. First, there had been the request from the Imperial Forces to make a slight detour to Keeyor 9 to pick up a Budheya prisoner. Though couched as a request, even a lowly Transport Captain knew that one didn’t say no to the Imperial Forces. The Emperor’s Military, as they were fond of referring to themselves, was the toast of the Empire – all the gains and territorial successes in the last fifty years being solely attributed to the might and greatness of the Imperial Forces. Tur Khosh, already behind on his tight delivery schedule when the request from the Imperial Forces had come in, had hoped to make up for lost time after a quick detour to the pick up the prisoner. That hope had been shot to bits by a demanding Unta-Golar who had boarded the ship minutes before the Transport had undocked from the Trade Sphere. The Ketaari officer had ordered the Captain to head into Empire space to drop off the prisoner to Budheyasta before he continued his cargo run. Now, Khosh found himself facing the prospect of paying out substantial penalties for not meeting the delivery schedule on his entire shipment. His crew were understandably disgruntled by the prospective loss in revenue. Transporting non-essential supplies within Ketaari and neutral space was not a lucrative business, but at least they had been earning enough currency to feed the crew and refuel the Transport with a little extra for ship maintenance every now and then. This misadventure was likely to cost them the goodwill of their customers, as well as serious currency. Not only would they not get paid for their transport services, they would be left with a hefty bill in the form of late fee penalties for not meeting their delivery schedule.

  The prisoner, a little slip of a Budheya female, had been placed in the Cargo Hold with a limited amount from their food rations to sustain her for the journey. Khosh’s plan had been to ask his crew to check up on her when they were scheduled to unload their cargo at the next delivery stop in one standard day. The arrival of the Unta-Golar had changed all that. The Ketaari officer had made two immediate demands: access to the prisoner, and a speedy trip to Budheyasta on the shortest and fastest route into Ketaari territory. Khosh had complied by giving the command to head into Ketaari space, but had not given the order for the ship to sail at maximum speed – he refused to waste fuel on the say-so of the arrogant Unta-Golar. He had also directed two of his biggest crew members to accompany the Unta-Golar to the Cargo Hold. His crew were tasked with ensuring that the Unta-Golar did not injure the prisoner too much. The request from the Imperial Forces entrusted him with the prisoner, and Khosh intended to deliver her into their custody in one piece, irrespective of the demands from a lowly Unta-Golar.

  Seven hours into their journey towards Ketaari territory, the Transport’s old-fashioned proximity alarm sounded its warning abruptly, before the onboard proximity detection system brought the ship to an abrupt and grinding halt. The Transport Captain hurried into his tiny Control Room, spurred on by the shrill clanging of the alarm.

  “Shut that damn thing off” he shouted through the cacophony, trying to be heard above the amplified noise in the Control Room.

  The single crew member present in the Control Room scurried to do the Captain’s bidding, while Khosh tried to make sense of the navigation and proximity sensor readings. Th
e alarm shut off abruptly mid-clang, before the crew member hurried into his seat beside the Captain to unshutter the small view screen.

  “Captain” he gasped, pointing to the ship displayed on the view screen.

  Khosh’s heart sank at the sight of the huge starship that ominously barred his way. Although the markings were unfamiliar to him, Khosh could tell that the ship had been built for combat. Captain and crew stared at each other with a mix of bewilderment, shock and alarm, until the ping of the communicator broke the silence between them.

  Khosh jabbed at the communicator control instinctively. The display on the view screen switched to a big gray-skinned warrior in full armor, minus the helmet the mercs where known to go into battle with.

  “HadKor” the crew member gasped under his breath, growing paler at the sight.

  Khosh reminded himself that he was close to Ketaari space, and not carrying anything of remote interest to the Hadari’Kor.

  “I am Transport Captain Tur Khosh. Why have you forced us to come to a stop?” he inquired, the truculence he tried to project nevertheless coming across as foolhardy bravado.

  “This is the Hadari’Kor starship Juntafeyore. Your ship is carrying something of value to the Hadari’Kor. You will be detained until you give her up” the big Hadari’Kor male declared coldly without much expression.

  “Her” Khosh exclaimed, having caught that one bit of significance in the demand. That was all he had time to blurt out, just as a subtle but unmistakable jolt caused the Transport to shudder in place.