Havoc (Dred Chronicles 2)

This is gonna hurt.

As the Peacemaker targeted her and cycled to weapons hot, she raised up on her knees and opened fire with the Shredder. It was awkward, and it cut her fingers since it wasn’t a weapon meant to be operated by hand, but the heavy ballistic rounds tore through the other Peacemaker’s softened armor plating. Calypso and the others added laser fire as blood dripped from Dred’s sliced fingers, and she didn’t let up until all her ammo was gone. The bot staggered back, then went boom in a shrapnel explosion of armor plating and cascading orange sparks. Their own mech was in a hell of a mess, barely able to trudge forward, but it still had one functional weapon.

“Broke your toy,” she called to the mercs. “Come on in, and we’ll talk about it.”

Most likely, she wasn’t supposed to be able to overhear their conversation, but thanks to Jael, her hearing had improved. Her gaze met his across the common room and his slight inclination of the head told her he was eavesdropping, too. She ducked down and cocked her head, wryly amused.

“We don’t know what kind of defenses they have inside the barricades.” That was the voice she hadn’t recognized before, the one who said, Don’t let them get away.

“Or how many.”

“We should push,” Vost said. “They’re disorganized and at a tactical disadvantage. We heard her call a retreat.”

“That doesn’t mean anything. She might’ve moved the support staff out of the line of fire. For all we know, she’s got military training.”

“Someone does,” Vost admitted. “Her traps and ambushes have been top-notch.”

Dred stifled a smirk. If she kept quiet long enough, the mercs would talk themselves out of the attack. Seems like I’ve made them wary of me. That felt like an accomplishment.

The other man went on, “And they took out our Peacemaker. That was supposed to be our free pass to burn this place down. Unless you want all of us to die, maybe we should scour the facility for more of them.”

“They’ll burn the armor off us again,” someone else said. “And there are no more replacements on the transport. I’m not fighting these savages in my shirtsleeves.”

“I still can’t breathe right from whatever they put in those grenades.” To Dred’s ears, the soldier sounded worried. “The medical droid can’t fix it, either.”

There was a silence, as if Vost was weighing the best course of action. To goad him, Dred called, “I’m getting bored in here. Are you coming to play with me or not?”

Vost shouted back, “Another time. This was just a trial run. The next time, I’ll bring special gifts to remember me by.”

Shit. If he finds and recovers more Peacemaker units, we’re done. Ours is just about busted, and I don’t know if anyone can fix it with Ike gone.

For the sake of those who had her back, Dred infused her tone with more confidence than she felt. “Things haven’t turned out like you expected, have they, Vost? I guarantee that will continue. In fact, it’ll only get worse. See, you’re fighting people with nothing to lose and a lifetime of experience at surviving despite all odds. Your men already want to go home. As more of them die, it’ll only get worse.”

Vost didn’t reply to her, but his voice buzzed with tension. “Move out.”

Dred lowered her head, resting her brow against the cool underside of the table. Footsteps sounded behind her, and she recognized Jael’s tread before his warm hand dropped to her shoulder. Can’t believe I held them off Dread Queen–style. She was too drained to feel like celebrating, however, because if the mercs had pushed, they would’ve found fifteen poorly equipped men and women, easily killed, easily overcome.

What the hell’s going to happen next time?

34

A Shadow Falls

“That was some of the most bullshit cowardice I’ve ever seen,” Martine snarled.

Jael agreed with her. Considering their advantages, if he had been leading that group, he’d have rolled in and finished the job. “No doubt, bright eyes. They used the Peacemaker to soften us up, then bailed without losing a single man.”

The common room was an abattoir. So many Queenslanders had been mowed down, aliens and humans alike. A number of them were moaning and weeping, lying in puddles of blood. Dred gazed about at the wreckage with an expression so open and broken that he wanted to caution her against showing that much vulnerability. While she trusted Tam and Martine, hopefully him and Calypso, he didn’t know the other men that well.

“We have to rebuild as fast as we can,” she said tiredly. “Mop this place up and deal with the wounded.”

“The mercs have a medical droid,” Jael murmured.

Tam shot him a curious look, as if wondering how he knew. No point in explaining, no benefit, either. Dred shook her head.

“It wouldn’t be able to help them.”

“Then I’ll take care of triage if you get started on cleanup.” Jael produced a knife and knelt beside a man whose guts were spilling out of his body.

“I’m sorry.”

But the Queenslander just closed his eyes, turning his face to the side. Jael had done this before, on other battlefields, usually at his commander’s behest, like he was a monster, not a person, and it didn’t trouble him to cut human losses. I don’t know your name or your story. The knife went in clean, and the man gasped out a last breath. Raising his head, Jael signaled to Calypso and her men to haul away the body.

But he wasn’t prepared to find Brahm among the mortally wounded. The Ithtorian wheezed for breath, his chitin cracked in half a dozen places. Added to the injury he’d already sustained, he had no chance of recovery. His talons flexed, stirring the ichor spilled from his sides. The smell carried Jael straight back to Ithiss-Tor, until his gut churned with revulsion. It shouldn’t be me. Someone else should—

“Jael?” Brahm rasped out.

“I’m here.”

“Death . . . is a funny thing. Sometimes . . . people die bravely. Honorably. Other times . . . they just die.”

He had no idea what to say. “That’s true.”

“I’m so . . . sorry Ali died . . . for nothing.”

“I doubt she would agree.”

“I’m ready. Do it. Up through my neck, beneath the mandible.”

Jael readied his knife, but it was harder than he’d expected. I tried to murder the father, and now I am killing his son. He opened and closed his fingers on the haft several times—and only the pained noise the Ithtorian made drove him forward in the end. As instructed, he sank the blade deep, lodging it in Brahm’s brain. The alien shuddered and fell still beneath Jael’s hands. Ithtorians enjoyed natural longevity, so this felt like a crime rather than a mercy killing. Guilt swept over him as he recalled his initial response to Brahm, the instinctive prejudice he couldn’t control.