Sky Hunter (10 page)

“
They’ll worry about the outcome of not
doing anything. As long as we’re not yet allied with Bellac, the
Union is going do all they can to avoid more
casualties.”

He smiled sadly. “That’s it? Politics? And
once Bellac has handed the planet over to you, would you walk away
from these things? The rebels aren’t going to leave us alone. Will
you still be here?”

“
Of course we will. We’ll have a big
stake in this place.”

“
The jumpsite.”

“
Well, yes.”

“
But not the people.”

“
Of course the people,” Nova said,
puzzled by his response. “We have bases wherever rebels are trying
to take over. We’ll keep the bases here on Bellac to protect you.
And we’re putting a monitoring station near the jumpsite to keep
rebels out.”

“
Wouldn’t be necessary, would it, if
there were no rebels.”

“
Now you sound like Coria.”

He shrugged. “She has a point. You’re only
here because of the jumpsite. Those make it possible for your Union
to expand, to travel to new places, to set up new trade. It’s
commercial. It’s about wealth. And now so are the Shri-Lan.”

“
If they had any sort of organization
they’d set up their own trade instead of trying to steal from
others. There are other competitors to the Commonwealth and things
work just fine with them.”

“
They’re as tainted by rebels,
criminals and pirates as your own groups are.”

She frowned. “Who have you been listening to,
my poet farmer friend? That’s rebel propaganda you’re getting into
now.”

“
Is it?” He smiled. “And I thought I
figured that all out by myself.” He shook his head. “You control
the jumpsites and that makes you very powerful. It’s bound to
create wars where us local poets get caught in the
crossfire.”

Nova nodded. He was right, of course. A
stable jumpsite inside a solar system meant relatively short jaunts
through real space before reaching the sub-space entry point, a
most valuable convenience for any planet. These sites were
understood to belong to local sentient populations, if there were
any. But, once discovered, they were quickly invited to join the
Commonwealth to form trading partnerships.

Bellac Tau’s jumpsite led directly to the
busy Magran sub-sector which had not just one but several other
sites opening important points within Trans-Targon, including
Targon itself, the hub of their military network.

The Union’s Air Command had not been an
especially necessary organization until some of the locals rebelled
against newly imposed rules and the changes that alien newcomers
brought. Rebel groups merged into factions that slowly grew into a
sizable opposition. Certainly, by now the Shri-Lan were no longer
truly rebels although lesser, mainly harmless other offshoots
existed on almost all planets.

Over time, the powerful Shri-Lan had become
an enemy force without a home planet and made up of any species
that opposed Union presence. Funded through extortion, piracy and
illegal trade in slaves, drugs, and weapons, they had established
large territories not only on remote planets outside Union
interests but also on vital worlds such as Magra and Pelion. Bellac
had been in their sights when the Union finally escalated their
negotiations for control of the planet.

And so pilots like Nova patrolled jumpsites
and valuable installations, escorted transports, hunted down
rebels, and defended settlements against enemy attacks. It had
never occurred to her to question the rightness of doing any of
this. The rebels were her job; their extinction her priority.

“
It’s the way we have to live now,” she
said. “Maybe we’ll all have peace someday.”

“
At what price?” He pointed toward the
untidy rows of pallets crowding the hall. “Look around, Lieutenant.
Most of those people were maimed by your soldiers. Or got caught by
missile strikes while trying to flee. Collateral damage is all we
are.”

Nova was surprised by the anger that had
finally cracked the surface of his outward serenity. He had seen
enough, done too much these past few days to hang on to his
optimism and it pained her to see him in this state. She had to
admit to herself that she had come to rely on him to infuse her
with some of his tranquility.

“
I don’t pretend to understand all of
it,” she said softly. “And sometimes I wish we weren’t so
heavy-handed. But look. The Shri-Lan are using your people like
shields; we often display our uniforms even when camouflage seems a
lot more sensible. They recruit children and species barely able to
comprehend what they’re fighting for; we train our troops to treat
our enemies humanely. We don’t hold dying people hostage. We—” Nova
interrupted herself with a sudden and peculiar awareness that her
own words sounded like so much propaganda. She thought about
Captain Beryl, as cruel and cold-blooded as any rebel. About
Captain Dakad, quick to order the ‘mitigation’ of his downed pilot.
Djari was right to worry about all of them being mitigated. “Maybe
we’re not so noble, but given a choice I know on what side I
stand.”

“
Do you have to be on any
side?”

Nova hesitated. This was the second time
someone had asked her to think about that. Only a day or two ago
Reko had assumed that she would leave Air Command at some point.
Was it really that simple? “You’d have me stand by and do nothing?
If I can help to defeat the Shri-Lan, why wouldn’t I?”

He began to say something, paused, and then
shrugged. “I suppose that makes sense. You’re a warrior, Lieutenant
Sunshine.”

She smiled back at him, glad that he seemed
willing to put this subject aside. “I am. And this warrior needs to
stop being a nurse and get back to soldiering. Just don’t tell
Coria.”

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Nova
whispered. “It’ll be safer here for you.”

Night and silence had fallen over the hall,
interrupted only by the occasional moan from the injured and the
murmurs of their guardians. A fan whirred somewhere in an attempt
to stir the stifling and fetid air. Things had improved a little
with the arrival of another scanner and a handful of decon wands.
More disinfectant was not to be found but they had received enough
soap and fresh water to improve sanitation.

“
I am,” Djari said. “I’ll be your
lookout.”

She retied the scarf around her head and then
gently nudged Reko’s legs to retrieve some of their concussion
bullets. She transferred them to the pockets of the baggy trousers
that now hid her own combat armor beneath it. Reko stirred with a
groan but did not wake. His fever had grown alarmingly and his
wound was hot and swollen. They had tried to cool him down but
there was little more than water for that. Nova thought of all the
wonderful medical equipment available even out here, at the
garrison near the other end of town, that would have him up on his
feet and firing off his lame jokes within hours. Right now, it
might as well be on the next planet. She murmured soothingly and
stroked his stubbled cheek.

“
What are you going to do with those?”
Djari asked.

“
Just in case.” She showed him the
modifications Reko had made. “Too noisy to use around here, but
better than nothing if we find ourselves in a tight
spot.”

He untied a braided leather string he had
been wearing around his neck, looped several times. He held it up
to reveal a leather cup sewn into the middle, hidden behind his
hair. “We use these for hunting. I bet I can throw one of those
things a long distance.”

“
Nice!” She examined the sling with
appreciation. “And much safer, frankly. I throw like a little
girl.”

He laughed, a pleasant sound in the dark.

They looked up when Coria came with a bowl of
water for Reko. She said nothing while she wiped his face and
picked up some discarded bandages. Before she left, she looked from
Djari to Nova, her gaze clearly conveying what her silence did
not.

Nova watched her go. “She really doesn’t like
me.”

“
No, I don’t suppose so.”

“
Why?”

He shook his head. “Doesn’t like Humans. You
seem to bother her especially.”

Nova hesitated. “Is she your… I mean are you
two…”

His teeth flashed in the dark when he smiled.
“No. But she thinks I’m sweet on you.”

Nova blinked. She had expected him to repeat
Coria’s fears that she was a risk to them, or perhaps even reveal
that the woman was a rebel; something Nova had begun to suspect.
“Um, what?”

He shrugged.

Nova tilted her head. “Is she right?”

“
Subtlety is not your greatest gift, I
think,” he replied. “But I like that about you.”

They waited for one of the rebel guards to
wander past them, his gun dangling lazily at his side. She nodded
to Djari and they crept into a narrow hallway to the crude toilets
that served the clinic. A service door leading to the septic area
was only rarely inspected and quickly unlocked with a tool Nova had
fashioned earlier. Clearly, their guards relied on the Rhuwacs
patrolling outside to discourage escape attempts.

“
Do the Rhuwacs have any weak spots?”
Djari asked.

“
Not really. They don’t even feel pain.
They don’t see very well, but they can smell things going on in the
next valley. Not much we can do about that.”

Once through the exit, Nova paused and
breathed deeply of the sweet, hot air outside the building. The sky
was overcast but their eyes were already accustomed to the dark.
She stopped Djari from slipping away and put a finger to her lips.
Gradually, the night sounds around them became identifiable. A
shuttle in the distance, possibly at the garrison. Some herd
animals left behind by the fleeing population of Shon Gat. Muted
voices far to the left. And, finally, the congested snuffling of
Rhuwacs.

She flattened her hand high over her head
before realizing that Djari would not know that to mean Rhuwac. But
he nodded and held two fingers up for her to see. She agreed with
his guess that there were two of them. She pointed away from the
sounds of Rhuwacs. Circling around them meant a delay but a more
safe way to find the building their young scout had discovered.

They moved silently. Djari’s hunting
experience served him well and she grew more confident in crossing
the shadowed spaces in this warren of alleys and passageways. She
counted the twists and turns until they reached the ancient wall
that used to encircle the town before it had sprawled beyond its
fortification. As reported, a metal shelter huddled among the
whitewashed buildings, looking as out of place as any of the
off-world constructions here. Light spilled from the open door and
a lone Bellac sat on the stoop, busy with a pan of food.

Nova’s eyes followed a rusted tower upward to
see a net of wires spread out from it, anchored to the nearby wall.
A primitive array used by the Shri-Lan in remote areas, it provided
excellent reception but was less effective for transmission. A lamp
swung from the same mast, casting a bleak pool of light over the
building.

She turned to Djari with a few gestures,
cautioning him to remain here and hidden. He moved as if to object
but she shook her head firmly. He scowled, obviously not convinced,
but then nodded. She watched him fit one of the explosive charges
into the sling and then turned her attention to the Bellac
rebel.

Grateful for the long, drab vest that helped
her blend into their surroundings, Nova sidled closer to the metal
shed. There, she tested a plastic crate before stepping on it to
peer into the dimly-lit interior. She made out some field equipment
along the far wall where a woman slouched in her chair, feet on the
cluttered bench. She was idly bending a piece of metal wire into
shapes while she monitored incoming messages that didn’t appear to
hold her interest. A rifle was placed just within reach on a cot
beside her. The rest of the interior was crammed with crates and
barrels, some of it arranged to form crude table and seats. Nova
lowered herself back down and approached the front of the
building.

The other rebel was still working on his
dinner. Nova realized how hungry she was when the greasy chunk of
bone and meat on his plate actually seemed appealing to her. She
wrapped a long, thin string, made from a braid of sutures and some
tape, around her palms to form a garrote. With another quick glance
around the alley, she stepped forward and used the choke to pull
the rebel into the dust where his flailing legs made little noise.
She felt the garrote cut deep into his throat, cutting off his
shouts of fear and pain and, soon thereafter, his life.

Nova waited another minute, breathing
harshly, alert to any sounds from the shed. She did not look at the
rebel’s face. As a pilot, she rarely faced her victims and she
doubted that she could ever get conditioned to defeating them in
close combat. It was best not to look, not to think about who these
people were. Quickly, she searched him for weapons and came up with
a sidearm laser, a decent knife and, oddly, a dart gun.

She raised her hand to prevent Djari from
approaching. She was unable to see him in the shadows but no doubt
he had been watching intently. She raised one finger and pointed
toward the shack. The stoop creaked when she stepped on it.

“
Hey, Jast,” the woman inside called
out. “Check this out. I should be an artist.”

Nova stepped into the room and fired her new
pistol at the back of the rebel’s head. The stench of burned hair
filled the room and she quickly went outside again to wave to
Djari. She waited while he hurried to the hut. “Hide that body
behind the shed,” she said to him, indicating the first rebel she
had dropped. “Then sit here. Look like a rebel.”