The look of joy on both Polaya’s face and those of her parents were wondrous to behold. They clutched her tight, looking for all the world like they were never going to let her go again. I smiled. This was why I joined the Rebellion, to return lost ones to their families. Not that exact purpose, mind, but the idea of making the world a little better through my actions was all I needed. I saw Clint looked happy as well.
All around, I could see the same reaction from the parents of the other children. The Bandits stood among the crowd, some grinning openly at the looks of relief and joy. This was our last stop, the last of the captives had been returned home. Our job was done for today. I could see the other two ships, the one Koruk had brought his troops in and a transport we had taken from the slave farm, off in the distance.
Koruk’s was much larger than Susan, capable of carrying four times as many beings. They called her Black Beauty. It was in jest, because, while the ship was black, it was one of the ugliest looking ships I had ever seen, all lines and harsh angles, not the smooth, sleek look of Susan. Granted, Susan had been pretty close until Clint got his hands on her.
“Thank you,” sobbed Polaya’s mother, her eyes bright with tears of happiness. Her father just nodded, too emotional to speak. He just held his daughter tight, his face conveying the gratitude he felt. Clint nodded his head. “I realize that this is an emotional time, but I would suggest gathering your things and getting as far from this planet as possible. The Swrun will know something has happened to their slave farm, and the first place they’ll come is where they got the slaves.”
Polaya’s mother nodded. “I understand,” she said. “I’m just glad you brought our daughter back.”
Clint smiled and turned away from the reunited family, leaving them to their joy. He walked in the direction of Susan and I followed him, stepping carefully over the newly dug furrows in the ground. Judging by the weather, it was seeding time on this planet. They wouldn’t get to it.
When we out of the family’s earshot, Clint glanced sideways at me and asked, his voice somber, “Do you think I overreacted?”
I thought for a moment and said, “No.” I shook my head. “No, I don’t think you did.”
“But I smashed in his skull with my bare hand. That doesn’t sound like rational action.” He held up his flesh and blood hand, waving it under my nose. “Look at this. Skin and muscle all torn, bruises to the bone. I’m going to have to get this bandaged. I’ve never punched anyone hard enough to need medical attention.”
“Well, if you had used your metal hand instead of your bare hand, you would have exploded his head,” I joked. Clint didn’t laugh. It was a pretty bad joke, I admit that. I tried again, serious this time. “You told them all what would happen if they broke your first law. You followed through with your promise. And there is no denying Koruk deserved it. That Uiane was a terrible excuse for a Rebel.”
Clint absently kicked at a clod of dirt in his path. “I shouldn’t have just killed him there. Even monsters deserve trial if they’re on your side. Hang ‘em back home, if need be. And I just left his body there, left him to rot.” He sighed. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m fine with Koruk being dead. I can deal with the fact that I’m the one who killed him. I just think I went a little overboard.”
I gave him a light punch on the upper arm, meaning to emphasis what I was going to say next. I hit him right on the seam between his metal arm and his muscle and ended up bruising my bottom two knuckles. I kept talking, though, rubbing my hand. “You’re being so damn melodramatic. We won the day, returned captives to their loved ones, and killed a bunch of Swrun. Cheer up, we’ve got things to celebrate.”
Clint gave a small smile and shrugged. “I suppose,” he said.
Looking up from my study of the ground, I saw that Susan’s open ramp lay in front of us. In front of that stood Vyena, her tufted, curled ears twitching, and her arms crossed. She had that “we have to talk” aura that was seemingly universal for all females, regardless of species. She marched up to Clint and, had he not been her superior officer, I think she would have shaken her finger under his nose.
“What were you thinking?” she asked exasperated. Clint looked taken aback.
“What do you mean?” he asked, clearly confused.
“Koruk! You left his body behind.”
Clint’s eyes narrowed. “I am aware,” he said icily.
“So then you’re also aware that he was wearing an IPDM suit? The suit that can deflect plasma?” Technically, it just absorbed it and dispersed the heat across the whole suit instead of a single point, but I knew what she meant. “The thing that could win us the war before it even begins? You just left it there for the Swrun to pick up and replicate!”
I had not thought of that. How had any of us not thought of that? One of the greatest tools the Rebellion possessed in their fight with the Empire and we just left it there for anyone to find. Clint opened his mouth to reply then closed it when he realized the same thing I had. He paused for a moment then said, “While I recognize that you have a point, you will refrain from speaking to me like that in the future. I will allow you this one, but no more.”
Vyena’s eyes widened when she fully comprehended what she had said and who she had said it to. “I’m sorry, Captain, I just got flustered. These suits could change everything and-”
Clint held up a hand, silencing her babbling. “You and Juiwa will take three of the new recruits and go retrieve that suit. Koruk’s body as well, if possible, but the suit is priority. Take the ship we got from the farm, go back to Lurreh, and get his body as fast as possible. It’s likely the Swrun are already on their way there.”
Vyena nodded. “Which three?” she asked, glancing over at the group of fighters that came with Koruk. Originally, there had been fifty. Now there were forty two.
Clint shrugged. “Anyone you choose. Now get going, every second counts.”
With that, Vyena nodded and marched off towards the edge of the group, where she would find Juiwa. Clint turned to me and said, “Let’s get back to Illoria.”
Juiwa watched with uninterested eyes as the surface of Lurreh approached. It was a dull, barren planet, covered with plains and oceans and forests, but not a single city. It was capable of supporting life, but no intelligent life had evolved here. The planet was too far away from any travel routes to make it a viable colony world-unless the colonists were truly desperate-so there was no life here at all.
That made it a good place for the Swrun to set up their slave farms, undisturbed by anyone else. No one to bother them and nowhere for the slaves to run if they escaped. The only civilization, if you could call slavers civilized, was that slave farm. And the Bandits had just destroyed it. Juiwa still thought Bandits was a foolish name for their unit, but it had stuck with the group and they had certainly earned a name. Juiwa supposed he could let it rest.
“So, what are you two here for? Why did you join the Bandits?” That was Pooi, one of the three new Bandits Clint had sent with Juiwa and Vyena, seated in the passenger area behind the cockpit, where Juiwa and Vyena sat. Juiwa did not see the need for extra baggage. He and Vyena could get in, get the suit, and fly off in a very short time, even if they ran into obstacles.
Now, they would have to babysit these three if trouble came up. And Juiwa did not know if he could trust them. They had only just joined, and they had come with Koruk, that rapist bastard. One could not be wholly judged by the company they kept, especially in the army, where you served with those you were ordered to, but it did not speak well. They could all be like Koruk, untrustworthy scum. And Juiwa did not like fighting beside people he couldn’t trust. Fire burned, meat tasted good, and fighting beside people you couldn’t trust led to death.
Juiwa did not reply to Pooi’s questions. He rarely talked to anyone, preferring to keep silent. Unless there was something of true importance, there was no need to speak. But Pooi would not be denied that easily. She had not stopped talking since she had set foot on the ship.
“Nothing?” the Mentas asked, her neck fronds twitching. Juiwa grunted, telling her he wasn’t going to answer.
“Is he always like this?” Pooi asked Vyena.
Vyena glanced over at Juiwa before answering, “Pretty much.”
“So I have to guess? Alright.” Juiwa could feel Pooi’s gaze settle on him, focused as a laser. He heard her humming quietly and ignored it. There wasn’t anything she was going to get from him. The ship jumped as it entered the atmosphere and began its descent.
“Hmm.” Juiwa could hear Pooi lean forward, getting closer. “You’re clearly a military man, used to order and discipline. You’ve seen a great deal of combat, evident by your scars. Except those scars on your wrists. Those are irons scars. You were a slave once.”
Juiwa stared straight ahead and ignored her. She was perceptive. Pooi continued. “So that’s why you fight the Swrun. And…hold on. What’s that on your cheek? That tattoo, I know that tattoo. The swirled fire and the twisted sword. That was-”
“Enough!” said Juiwa. “I joined because I hated the Swrun for enslaving me. That’s all that matters.”
Vyena looked shocked. He had never said that much to anyone before. “What?” he half snarled. “I can talk. I just choose not to.”
Her eyes opened wider. Juiwa closed his and pushed his head back against the seat and breathed deeply. He had not needed to do that. All of it had been unnecessary, a waste of energy and focus. Fire burned, meat tasted good, and Juiwa was not wasteful.
“But, your tattoo is-” Pooi tried to say before Vyena interrupted her. “He said enough. Be quiet.”
Juiwa could hear Pooi’s mouth click shut and the other two Bandits shifting uncomfortably in their seats. They had not said much since they had boarded the ship. He liked them better. One was a Guen, like Juiwa, and his name was Wees. The other was a Bonas with a bright red crest, called Kryl. Of the two, Juiwa liked Kryl better. He was quiet.
Juiwa watched the ground rapidly approach. The burned building of the slave farm were prominent in the center of the viewport, blackened smears across the face of the plain. Vyena guided the ship down on the outskirts of the farm, closest to where they left Koruk’s body. The ship touched down with a rough thump. Vyena was not quite the same pilot as Clint.
Vyena stood and faced the back of the ship. “We’re here to grab the body and get out of here. The Swrun could show up anytime, so speed is essential. Let’s move out.”
Juiwa grabbed his weapons and pack, waited for Vyena to exit the cockpit, and followed her out. The rest followed him. The sun was low in the sky when Juiwa stepped off the ramp and the smell of wood smoke filled the air. The moment her feet hit the ground, Vyena was off, leading them into the cluster of buildings. Juiwa followed close behind, his eyes catching every detail of the farm, watching of any danger. He could see none.
Moving quickly through the rubble, the Bandits arrived at the street where Clint had executed Koruk. Nothing had changed since they had been there last. Koruk’s body still lay in middle of the street, his head caved in. Juiwa quickly scanned the surrounding area. “Clear,” he said.
Vyena nodded, moving out into the street. She motioned to Kryl and Wees. “You two, carry this back the ship. Let’s go.”
The return trip was as uneventful as the first one. In all, it took them about twenty minutes to land, get the body, and take off again. The atmosphere was decidedly more tense in the ship after they had brought Koruk aboard. After all, the three new Bandits had been under Koruk’s command for much longer than Clint’s and Juiwa did not know if they were still loyal to Koruk.
Apparently, neither did Vyena, because she cleared her throat and said, “Are, mhm, you guys alright with this?”
Juiwa rested his hand on his pistol, ready to whip it out at a moment’s notice. He watched the new Bandits carefully. None of them seemed to be angry or upset. That was good. They could be hiding their emotions, as Juiwa did often. Then Pooi shook her head, fronds swaying from the motion, and said, “Are you kidding me? The bastard got exactly what he deserved.”
She leaned over and spat on Koruk’s corpse. “He had it coming,” Wees agreed. Kryl growled, letting his thoughts on the subject be known. Juiwa relaxed his grip and turned back to the viewport. The ship had left the planet’s atmosphere and was well on its way out of the gravity well. They would reach warp soon.
The console started beeping.
“What is that?” Wees asked.
“Proximity sensor,” Vyena answered. “Someone else is here.” And Juiwa knew just who it was. Looming large in the viewport was a Swrun battle cruiser fresh from warp, 500 yards long, and packing enough firepower to melt the scouting ship into slag several thousand times over. And it was making a beeline for the planet. The Bandits happened to be caught in the middle.
“What are we going to do?” asked Kryl. “We can’t fight them and we can’t out run the plasma.”
Vyena paused for a moment. “We’re going to avoid suspicion and go about our merry way. We’re in a Swrun vessel, they should ignore us.”
“Avoid suspicion? How are we going to do that?” Pooi asked, a slight tremor in her voice. Juiwa did not feel afraid. There was nothing he could to change the situation, and so fear was pointless. Fear was only good when it gave you an edge, speed and strength greater than normal. What they needed here was a clear head and fear was not good for that.
“I don’t know,” Vyena snapped, “We’ll fly casual.”
Juiwa watched as Vyena guided the ship gently under the cruiser, flying carefully to avoid drawing attention, but still flying as if she didn’t have a care in the world. It looked terribly difficult. They flew halfway under the cruiser and there was no response. Everyone in the cabin held their breath, praying there wouldn’t be any response. They reached the far side of the cruiser, breathing shallow and quietly, as if doing so could somehow hide the ship from the Swrun’s attention.
They flew out from under the cruiser and continued on their way. They were only a few minutes away from the gravity well and warp. If they could make it there, they would be safe. The communicator on the console chimed. There was someone who wanted to talk to them.
Vyena glanced around the cockpit and took a deep breath. Motioning for silence, she flicked on the comm. A voice came from the other end, demanding to know their business in the region. The only problem was they didn’t ask it in Galactic Standard, instead asking it in Swrun. Vyena looked around the cabin in horror, and the new Bandits stared back at her.
Juiwa answered the question. “<This is the vessel GD-8 of the Eighth Imperial Fleet.>”
Vyena stared at him in shock. Juiwa shrugged. It was something he had picked up, nothing worthwhile to mention. The fact that people were always greatly surprised whenever he did it was just a bonus. Fire burned, meat tasted good, and it was the little things in life that made it worth living.
“<Eighth Imperial Fleet? What are you doing way out here?>”
“<Our warp drive malfunctioned during a jump and shot us out here.>”
“<Did you come from the planet’s surface?>”
“<No. We just got here, and now we’re leaving.>” All the while Juiwa was speaking, Vyena was pushing the ship farther and farther away from the planet, getting ever closer to warp and safety. They had perhaps a minute and a half left.
“<You are advised to cease your movement and dock with the cruiser.>”
“<Why do I need to do that? I’m just headed on my way back to my fleet.>”
“<Stop or be fired upon.>” Juiwa glanced up at Vyena and mouthed, “How long?”
She held up ten fingers, then thrice more. Forty seconds. He could stall for that long.
“<I’m afraid I can’t do that. There is time sensitive material on board and I have to get it to the Admiral.>”
“<Admiral Juy-pru?>”
“<That’s the one.>”
“<You dumb bastard. There is no Admiral Juy-pru.>” Juiwa felt his stomach drop. They knew it wasn’t Swrun piloting this vessel. He turned to Vyena and yelled, “Get us the fuck out of here!”
She didn’t ask questions, just pushed the throttle as far down as it would go. The ship shot forward, the sudden acceleration pushing the Bandits back in their seats and sending Koruk’s body sliding down the walkway into the back wall. Light began to explode around the ship as the Swrun opened fire and the targeting computers gauged their target. The light got closer.
“How much longer until we’re out of the gravity well?” Juiwa asked, his voice steady. He would remain in control during this. Fire burned, meat tasted good, and Juiwa was in control.
“Ten, twelve seconds? I couldn’t say for sure,” Vyena answered, her curled ears ramrod straight above her head. They weren’t going to make it that long. Any second now a plasma shot was going to tear through the small craft and boil them alive, IPDM suits or not.
“Make the jump now!” Juiwa ordered. Vyena opened her mouth to argue, but Juiwa spoke before she could. “Just do it!”
She shook her head but did as he said, punching the ship into warp inside the gravity well. That was generally a very bad thing. When there was enough gravitational pull on a warp drive, it did funny things to the jump coordinates, changing them drastically. There was the chance they could end up in the gravity well of another planet or star, or even inside said star or planet. That was without mentioning the numerous asteroids, comets, ships, blackholes, and the endless amount of other things floating in the dark ocean of space. It was risky business, but it was the only way they were going to have a chance of survival.
Juiwa felt the ship jump and the stars in the viewport began to elongate. They were going into warp. Then the viewport flashed white and the ship started to spin. They had been hit. It was fortunate that everyone had strapped themselves in, or the centripetal force would have flung them against the wall hard enough to break bones. Koruk’s body did just that and Juiwa heard the bones splinter.
But even as the ship spun, the stars still grew longer and the space between them turned blue. They were still going into warp. But at these speeds, spinning like this, and with a damaged craft, they were almost guaranteed to die in a most painful way. Almost. There was still a chance. The force of the spinning ship pushed the blood away from Juiwa’s brain, pushing him towards unconsciousness. From what little he could still see, the rest of the Bandits were already unconscious.
There was a flash of light and all went dark.
“Keep your shoulders relaxed,” I called out at the new Bandits. “If you tense your muscles, that will throw off your aim and you will miss. Do it again.”
The sound of plasma fire filled the room as ten rifles discharged their deadly energy across the long cavern into metal shapes on the far end. I watched as they all sunk into the metal, leaving a black mark scorched on the smooth shining surface. The targets were Clint’s idea, something to keep the aim sharp during the Bandits’ days of rest, few though they may be.
He even designed a track that the targets would move around in an irregular pattern, giving the Bandits something moving to shoot at. I walked among the new Bandits, watching as they lined up their sights and squeezed the trigger. I had been doing this for the last four hours, watching as shifts of ten new Bandits lined up and poured shot after shot into the target dummies.
Clint was instructing the Bandits that were not in the firing range in hand to hand combat. Rather, he was pummeling them and letting them learn from their mistakes. It was a common practice of his. It was how he trained me. Clint had me attack him again and again, offering no teachings until I had completely and utterly exhausted myself. He let me find my limits, then taught me from there. It worked very well.
I noticed that one of the soldiers’ aim, a Hryth with unusually bright red tentacles, was poorer than the rest of the group’s. As the barrage of plasma continued, I made my way over to his station, watching as he fired. I could see what he was doing wrong almost immediately.
“Soldier,” I said, standing behind him. He lowered his rifle and turned to me. “Yes, sir?”
I thought about telling him to call me Lieutenant or Tedix, but I was not Clint and I didn’t have any aversion to being called sir. “What’s your name?”
“Bor My, sir.”
“Bor, look down at that target and tell me what you see,” I told him, my face flat. I found it rather difficult. I had never done this sort of thing before and I found it kind of strange. He picked up his binoculars from the floor and peered down at his target. “I see blast marks, sir.”
“Yes, and where are they?”
He hesitated. “Not where they’re supposed to be?”
“Exactly,” I said, my voice dry. I was finding it difficult to keep a straight face. I did not understand it. I could give orders with no difficulties in the field, but now, without anything to distract me, I found it tough. “Do you know why that is?”
“I do not, sir.”
“Your stance is off,” I said. “Take a position.” He did so. “You are standing off base and your shoulders are turned. Watch me.”
I took his rifle and took up a firing position, square shoulders and solid base, the way Clint taught me. I took a moment to marvel at that. I had once been what the rest of my race was, a selfish, easily scared being who only looked out for himself. I knew nothing of fighting, preferring to run and hide. Now, I was giving lessons on how to fight. I lined up my sights and fired three times in rapid succession into the dummy. I saw black marks bloom across the dummy’s chest. One was a little to the left of a kill shot. The rest would have killed the target, had it been alive.
I lowered the rifle and turned to Bor. “That is how it is done. Proper stance will get you a long way. Of course, you’ll be facing less than ideal conditions in combat, so we’ll cover that next, but it’s good to get the basics. Remember, proper stance or else you’ll have about as much chance of hitting the target shooting sideways.”
To underline my statement, I lifted the rifle and pointed it, one armed, at the target. I looked straight at Bor and my arm was parallel to my chest, meaning I could only see the rifle out of the corner of my eye. I fired and heard the pulse impact. I lowered the rifle and handed it back to Bor. He took and resumed his position. He sighted down the rifle, then paused.
“What is it, soldier?” I asked, wondering why he had not fired.
“Sir,” he said, a note of awe in his voice, “you, you hit the head.”
“What?” I asked, confused.
“The head, you hit the head when you fired just now.”
“Of course I did,” I said. He looked at me, his eyes wide with stunned admiration. I wasn’t about to admit that it was pure luck. “That’s what practice does.”
I turned and walked down the line. The sound of plasma fire filled the air. I resumed my quiet vigilance in the corner, watching the ten new Bandits blacken the dummies. They were not bad. Even Bor was sinking bolts into the fatal zones of the dummies. They were not bad at all. In any other squad they would have been at the top. But they were not in just any squad. They were in the Illorian Bandits, known throughout the Swrun Empire as a group of deadly warriors who destroyed any target they set their eyes on. They would have to be damn near perfect.