“Our attorney made sure the court officials were aware that if they sent us anywhere but here, anywhere apart, that I’d find a way to kill them.”
Damn.
That fast, it wasn’t as restful to tend the plants with these two. Before, he’d thought their devotion was sweet, if slightly strange, but now there was no doubt in his mind that both of them were unhinged. It just wasn’t obvious, like with some Queenslanders. He supposed the benefit was that Zed’s mania was really specific, so to avoid prodding him into a killing spree, you just had to be distant and courteous to Vix.
“I should go see if Tam’s ready to finish the grenades,” Jael said.
“You’ll share your story next time,” Vix said. “I really, truly like you, Jael.”
Somehow it sounded like a threat, and he didn’t enjoy being the object of her interest when Zed was watching with those dead, cold eyes, like he had no emotional responses to anything or anyone who wasn’t Vix. Disturbing. How does that happen? And I thought I was fragged up. Still, he murmured something noncommittal before heading back up to the lab.
“Damn,” he muttered.
“Problem?” Tam asked.
“Vix and Zed are cracked, aren’t they?”
“It’s not immediately obvious, but yes. I’d stay away from her. I’ve heard she makes a sex game of it, trying to make Zediah jealous. If she succeeds, the man dies.”
“And that would be why I’m the only one who volunteers to help in the garden.”
“Somebody should’ve warned you.”
Jael sighed. “Dred probably thought it was funny. Let’s see if the new fish is clever enough to survive the land mines.”
“I’m sure she had other things on her mind, and she knew you could handle yourself.”
Better to give her the benefit of the doubt, I suppose. “That’s the best possible interpretation. Let’s finish these grenades.”
“After this, I need help with another special project if you’re interested.”
Jael grinned. “I could use the work since I won’t be gardening.”
27
No Greater Love
“I hope this works,” Dred said.
Recent intel indicated that the mercs traveled as a single unit, so there could be no more hit-and-run strikes. With Tam’s new weapons, this was the first time they would engage them en masse, and she was nervous. Not that I don’t trust Tam, but . . . It was a big risk to take while using untested weapons. She would’ve preferred to engage with Mungo’s men first to make sure the grenades would work as intended, but since they only had so many of them, after some discussion, they’d decided to do a field test.
With luck and timing, we take out a good number and get away clean.
She might not be able to do anything about the former, but she could work on the latter. Dred strode among her forces, giving last-minute orders. For this to work, it had to be an ambush, and they needed the high ground with some cover. A straight-up fight would end badly for her side, so Tam had watched Vost’s movements for a full day, timing his routes, and they were now set up just outside the command post.
She had twelve people with her, a mix of aliens and humans. Some were armed with laser rifles, others had the poison grenades, and the last four were using the crazy-looking carbines Tam had jury-rigged out of scrap and chem. There was no way to be sure if the plan would go as intended, but she hoped so. Though they’d managed a few successes, the way the mercs were mowing through Mungo’s horde, it wouldn’t be long before they finished wiping that part of the station and moved on to Queensland.
“We should be set,” Tam reported.
Dred turned to her people. “Everyone clear on their orders?”
A series of quiet nods came in response to the question as they were already set and focused at the railing. The odds were three to one against them if the mercs found a place to hunker down, and even worse if they closed since most of her people didn’t have armor. But we do have vicious cunning and desperation, the stuff dreams are made of.
She took a deep breath, listening for RC-17. They’d placed the bot for surveillance, and it would signal when the mercs were near. It didn’t take long before the whistles and beeps rang out, and she knelt alongside the rifle division. Grandiose word for five of us. Dred fought the urge to utter more cautions and explanations. They know the drill. We can do this.
As soon as the mercs stepped onto the platform below, she opened fire, aiming for the faceplates. She let Jael take Vost since he was a better shot, and it took her three tries to crack the glastique on one. The mercs returned fire, forcing her down. Around her, others fared better, taking out targets, while the carbine users unloaded with the acid pellets Tam and Jael had fabricated. They exploded with a hiss as they hit armor and immediately went to work on the structural integrity. If the stuff wasn’t washed off, it would eat through the skin.
Once a good portion of the mercs were wearing helmets with compromised filtration systems, her people lobbed the gas grenades. On impact, they shot off clouds of green gas, and she waved the retrieval crew in. Jael led the run, along with those in all the helmets they could spare. The gas reduced visibility, leaving the mercs who could still breathe firing blind and worried about hitting their comrades while their cohorts staggered and wheezed and yet others were scrambling desperately out of armor that was dissolving on their skin.
“Grab as much as you can carry,” she shouted. “No more. We need to fall back.”
The point of this strike wasn’t to kill all the mercs in one go. She lacked both the firepower and manpower for a full-out assault. No, this was another guerilla strike, aimed at surprising and demoralizing them. If we whittle away at them when they’ve started to feel safe, it’ll erode their confidence. It wasn’t just a ground war she was fighting; she was also trying to break their spirits. Artan taught me something about that at least.
“Don’t let them take your weapons,” Vost choked out, but since Jael had smashed the faceplate on his helmet, he was also inhaling the gas, so his words were strangled by the wheeze and whine of his labored breathing.
“Move, move, move!” Dred called.
Her people were hauling multiple bodies, clad in armor, and others had weapons. A barrage of laser fire came in hard and Ali threw herself in front of Brahm, who was running with his head down, rifles in both hands. The smell of burning hair filled the air as the Rodeisian female went down. Even from this vantage, Dred could tell it was serious. The concentrated laser fire burned a hole clean through the fur and into Ali’s spine. Her hands and feet spasmed, and her breath went fast and shallow. She tried to turn over and failed, a small whimper escaping her.