Havoc (Dred Chronicles 2)

It shouldn’t have been me to send you to your rest.

But he couldn’t stay there forever. There were too many other men who needed the kindness of a quick death. So Jael carried on with a blade until all the dying were dead. Then he joined the others in removing corpses to the chute.

Seems as if that’s all we’ve done lately.

Cook came into the common room at some point thereafter and he stood, staring at the sea of red spilled on the battered floor. He spun in a slow circle, gauging the damage to tables and chairs, then he strode toward Dred, who was standing next to Jael. It took all he had not to reach for her, not to wrap an arm around her shoulder and stroke his hands down her back, when he could see she was on her last legs.

When he spoke, because he did so rarely, the chef’s voice sounded rusty. “We cannot continue this way. How do you intend to fix this?”

Dred pushed out a sigh. “I don’t know.”

A flicker in the other man’s eyes made Jael uneasy. Maybe she shouldn’t have been so honest, but she couldn’t be the Dread Queen every minute of every day. These men needed to stop being such lazy bastards. If more of them fought, we wouldn’t have lost so many today. But given the lack of weapons that could hurt an armored merc—or a Peacemaker—they couldn’t have done more than die, like the ones caught in the initial onslaught.

Cook just nodded and signaled for the sanitation crew to bring out the mops. Little by little, Queenslanders came out of hiding. Jael set a number of them on rebuilding the broken barricade, though everyone knew at this point how little protection it offered against a mech. The mercs would be slowed by it, however, maybe long enough for Queensland to prepare.

Her eyes shadowed, Dred sent runners to search for those who had fled when she called the retreat. With the mercs still a threat, despite what she’d said before, she couldn’t risk an announcement on station comms, where the enemy could overhear. It might spur another attack.

Soon after the scouts left, the aliens came out of hiding to help with the damage control. Katur and Keelah oversaw repairs to furniture, patching things as well as could be expected, given limited supplies and resources. By the time the common room was set to rights, it was obvious there had been a hard-fought battle. Even the flooring was permanently dented and scarred, marred with bloodstains that no amount of scrubbing could wash away.

As Jael stretched, the Dread Queen beckoned. “We need an emergency council meeting. This way.”

She led them all to the training room. A quick glance identified Keelah, Katur, Calypso, Martine, and Tam as the ones invited to this planning session, whatever it might entail. The resistance had managed to kill a few mercs, damage some armor, liberate a few supplies, and steal some guns. Compared to what the mercs had done in one strike? Laughable. Jael didn’t see how this could end well.

“How many did we lose?” Dred asked Tam quietly.

“I’m still counting, and I think some of the men might be in hiding on the upper levels. But . . . it looks like we’re down by half.”

Dred sucked in a sharp breath, and that time, Jael couldn’t prevent himself from stepping up behind her. He was beyond gratified when she leaned, not so anyone else would notice, but it felt like a silent message. Yes, I do need you at my back. Don’t let go. Maybe that was wishful thinking, and he should be beaten for such notions in the middle of a crisis. But it was a rare, incredible feeling.

Nobody’s ever needed me before.

“What’s your plan?” Katur asked.

“I wish I had one. The mercs are planning to look for more Peacemakers before they come back. Ours won’t last through another firefight.”

Jael wished he could offer to tear them apart with his bare hands, but Einar was gone, and he didn’t have the same strength, speed, or healing as before. He didn’t regret saving Dred’s life, but he didn’t much like the limits on his capacity. Caution had never been part of his battle strategy, and it was strange, suddenly having to think about risking injuries too severe to heal.

“There are five on station,” Katur said.

“You took an inventory?” Calypso asked.

Keelah nodded. “It’s wise to know what dangers exist, even if you can avoid them.”

“I don’t suppose you marked the locations?” Tam wanted to know.

“In fact, I did.”

“That’s the best news I’ve had all week,” Dred said. “Tell me.”

Katur elaborated and drew a map, but he cautioned, “Three of these units, I don’t think the mercs can reach. They’re behind turrets and force fields, and I haven’t been able to bypass them.”

“He’s a good hacker,” Keelah said uneasily.

“If he can get them, we’re done,” Martine muttered.

“That might be good for us,” Jael put in. “If they can’t reach them, they can’t send them against us.”

Calypso frowned. “Unless Vost figures out a way around the station defenses. I wouldn’t have suspected he could acquire his own Peacemaker so fast.”

“We can’t underestimate him,” Dred agreed.

Keelah rubbed her chin. “Ali tried to hack a few of the stations, but the algorithms were too complex to manage it without specialized tech.”

Tam paced, five steps away, five steps back. Since the spymaster didn’t usually give away such insights regarding his mood, Jael reckoned he must be pretty agitated. “I’ve calculated the odds. Queensland can’t survive another attack like that. If we don’t resolve this, we’ll end up hiding in isolated pockets, easily wiped out. I can steal parts from two of the Peacemakers, provided I can get to them before Vost, but—”

“We no longer have the numbers to defeat the mercs,” Dred said.

“Not without better armor and weapons.” Jael didn’t like being the bearer of bad news, but there was no point in ignoring reality.

“Tam, can you hack the Peacemakers instead of disabling them?” Keelah asked.

The spymaster shook his head. “Would that I could, but my expertise lies elsewhere.”

Ike probably could have. But that thought didn’t help.

“How is it that Vost can do it but not you? I thought you were a genius.” Martine seemed disappointed.

“I suspect he has special equipment to aid him. I have . . . very little.” The admission appeared to hurt Tam, as if he loathed confessing to being ill prepared.