Havoc (Dred Chronicles 2)

Duran glanced up from taking inventory of what was left. “By my count, we’ve got two weeks at most. We need an alternate food source.”

“There’s a Kitchen-mate in one of the abandoned zones,” Vost said. “It might still be functioning. I’ll take a run to see once the others get back.”

“Do we even want to think about what organic might be powering it?” Duran asked.

Redmond made a gagging sound. “Probably not. This is a crap gig. I don’t think I’ve been so skeeved since we did that village on Tarnus.”

That wasn’t one of his brighter memories, but being a soldier of fortune didn’t come with a guarantee that all the jobs would be good for the soul, and he had bills to pay. The thought sent a pang of worry through him so hard that his hands actually curled into fists in reaction. Can’t think about him. Eyes on the prize. It’s not going as fast as expected, granted, but we’re making headway.

With a sigh, he sent his last drone cam on patrol with orders to track Casto. It was just good strategy to make sure the patrol didn’t encounter more resistance than it could handle. Worst-case scenario, Vost might not be able to do much about it, but a commander should have complete situational awareness. As the cam skimmed through the halls, he saw about what he expected, pockets of prisoners skulking about, occasional combat between warring factions. Shit, if we wait a week, they’ll whittle each other down even more for those “pardons.” He stifled a laugh.

Then he froze in his chair. “Redmond, come look at this and tell me what you see.”

The soldier ambled over to his shoulder. “Looks like Casto’s heading for the transport bay, not the mooks.”

He shot to his feet, pure rage swamping. “That bastard’s leaving us behind.”

They had too much of a head start for Vost to catch up, so he could only watch, jaw tight, as his lieutenant powered down the force field. The mutinous f**k actually waved at the drone cam, likely knowing his commander could do f**k-all to stop this. He’d set his plans too well. Vost wheeled and slammed his armored fist through a broken vid screen.

The rest of the men boarded the ship like hell was at their heels.

Ten seconds later, the drone cam went off-line in a fizz of static as an explosion rocked the whole station. Sirens blared like it was Armageddon, a constant shriek of alarm.

“What just happened?” Duran asked. “What the f**k just happened?”

“Payback.” Shaken, Vost scrubbed a hand over his face; and then, despite himself, he began to laugh.

36

Rats in the Walls

“Alert, the facility may be under attack. All executive personnel please proceed to shuttle pods on alpha deck. There is a hull breach in the transport area. All support systems are compromised. Main power is off-line, backup engaged. Bulkheads are now sealing decks eight through ten. Emergency repairs are required.” The station VI voice sounded eerily calm. “Maintenance supervisor, please dispatch immediate assistance.”

Jael had always found virtual intelligences creepy, which was probably an unfair bias, given his own origins. But with biological life-forms, there was always a common imperative and some kind of emotional response. The Perdition VI didn’t care if the whole station imploded, taking her and everyone else with it.

“Holy shit.” Martine paused with her spoon in midair, aiming a shocked look at Tam.

“Why would the mercs try to leave?” Dred asked.

Jael shrugged. “You got me. Maybe the transport overloaded on its own?”

“Not unless someone powered it up.”

Calypso was grinning. “Wonder how many of the ass**les we took out.”

Tam pushed to his feet. “Impossible to say, but I can check the command outpost, see how many men are in there.”

Dred seemed to consider. “Might not provide a definitive answer—there could be some on patrol—but find out what you can. Carefully.”

The alarm went on for hours before the VI must’ve figured out that nobody from maintenance was coming. Then she made a new announcement. “Decks eight through ten permanently compromised. Access revoked to all personnel. Have a nice day.”

“That happened sooner than I expected,” Jael said.

He was alone with Dred, relatively speaking. They were sitting in the common room, keeping an eye on the men, who were agitated by the station damage. According to Tam, the average Queenslander wouldn’t understand the reason they’d blown the transport; most of them would see it as a wasted opportunity, like it really was that easy to steal a ship and take off. Then again, most of them were dumb as broken data readers. Jael agreed with the necessity of keeping the explanation for the explosion under wraps. The last thing they needed was a rebellion from men who believed their leaders had trapped them on station out of a misguided thirst for vengeance.

Dred nodded. “I thought we’d all be dead when they left.”

A Queenslander whose name Jael couldn’t recall approached the table. “My queen, do you know what the mercs are doing? Why they blew up part of the station?”

Jael admired her poker face as she replied, “Maybe they were trying to get into a restricted area and set off the top-tier defenses.”

That was bullshit, but the convict didn’t know that. “Then we need to be careful on salvage ops, huh?”

“I’d say so,” Jael put in.

The man bobbed his head in a sort of bow, then hurried back to his table, likely to spread the news. Jael watched as he whispered, and other men glanced their way, looking simultaneously relieved and worried. Within a few minutes, the same prisoner was moving among other groups, warning them about the fact that Perdition could blow up if you tinkered with the wrong wire.

Dred sighed. “They’ll be scared to leave Queensland at this rate.”

“Better than the alternative.” Which was rioting and death. “And at this point, we’ve lifted just about everything we can use.”

“That’s true.” Her tone was bleak.

“We’re in a better position than we have been for a while. So what’s put that look on your face?” Jael couldn’t believe he was asking that, inviting confidences.

Sucker.

“I don’t want to think about the future.” By her tone, she didn’t think they had one.

And Jael had to admit, sometimes it was tough to imagine a way out of here. At the moment, his nebulous escape plan hadn’t coalesced; more immediate problems kept cropping up, but hope flickered inside him, a tiny flame that couldn’t be extinguished. Jael knew what true darkness of the soul felt like. He’d fallen into that abyss in a small cave on Ithiss-Tor, deep within the ground.