Make Rising - Ch. 2 Part 1

Chapter Two

Qadira brought the Mako in quick and clean over the drop site. She disliked trusting that arrogant ass Doctor Monroe as to what constituted a safe landing point, but the captain had ordered her to deposit him, Ursula, and the ice queen doctor where the science-bitch recommended.

“You’ve got your pissy face on,” Liam remarked from the copilot’s seat.

“I wonder why,” Qadira replied dryly.

“Selandra is our subject matter expert on this mission. This is General Siderus’ mission, so trust her to know her shit even if you don’t trust her for anything else,” Liam lectured.

“And now you’re on a first name basis with her, great!” Qadira opened the cargo bay doors.

“Clear,” Markov’s voice cackled over the intercom.

Qadira closed the cargo bay doors and plotted the quickest course back into orbit.

“She’s part of the crew now. You know how the captain feels about crew unity,” Liam said.

“And the captain knows how I feel about assholes who think they are better than everyone,” Qadira told him.

“She created these things and we are stuck with her until we finish this mission, so you had best stow that shit and get your act together.”

Qadira snorted indelicately. “Why are you defending her? She’s the one who started taking shots at me!”

“And I know that you are better than her,” Liam explained with his infuriatingly calm bedside tone. “We don’t need any more pissing matches when we have our next briefing or crew meeting. So start acting better than Selandra or I am going to start taking her side on everything just to piss you off.”

“Argh! You wouldn’t!” Qadira gasped.

“I would indeed. In fact, if you didn’t obviously hate her so much I’d be trying to sleep with her.”

Qadira mimed gagging. “Gross! Why would you even say that?”

“She’s a surly misanthrope with a great ass and a high IQ, why wouldn’t I say that?” Liam asked.

“I think I’m going to be sick,” Qadira groaned.

*

Ursula didn’t care for guns. Well, to be honest, she loved guns, but she hated having to use them. What she really enjoyed were close quarters where her electricity powers could overwhelm any idiot trying to point a gun at her. These open spaces made her nervous. What if one of the corporations she had screwed over had hired an assassin to hit her with a sniper rifle from a thousand yards away? What was she supposed to do against that? Then there was the problem of what happened after she died. The last time she had been gravely injured she had sent out an electric pulse that had killed everyone within a hundred feet. She didn’t want to kill the captain even if it meant taking out “Doctor Monroe.” Ursula wasn’t convinced she wasn’t some lunatic hired to lead them into a trap. The real Doctor Monroe was probably dead and shoved into a closet on that space station back in orbit, Ursula was almost sure of it.

“You’re muttering to yourself,” Captain Markov pointed out quietly as they advanced towards their intended target.

“Was not,” Ursula protested.

The captain ignored her.

“This used to be a city,” Doctor Monroe told them. Ursula looked around. It looked more like a jungle than a fallen city. There were no buildings, no roads, no lights. Just vines and trees.

“And I used to be the Queen of Freehold,” Ursula growled. “Captain, this bitch is leading us into a trap. We should kill her now and get back to the Mako.”

“Secure that shit, Ursula,” Markov ordered. “We’re here to do a job and we’re going to do it. You hear me?”

“Yes, sir.”

Doctor Monroe led them to a cave opening filled with writing vines.

“Oh, hell no!” Ursula shouted.

“This is where the primary root cluster will be,” the supposed doctor told the captain.

“Then that’s where we go.” Markov started down the sloping tunnel. Ursula and Doctor Monroe followed.

They clicked on their flashlights as the sunlight faded to darkness inside the tunnel. “The plants aren’t attacking us,” Ursula whispered.

“Nor will they while I’m here,” Doctor Monroe replied. “They remember me.”

The tunnel turned and the slant down became steeper. Occasionally something could be seen moving in the darkness around them, but as soon as Ursula shined her light on it whatever it had been froze and looked just like the thorny vines covering the walls. Another sharp curve brought them out of the cramped tunnel and into a massive cavern.

A cavern that was nearly filled with an enormous root cluster that was continually writhing and undulating.

"The Mother returns," a hollow voice echoed throughout the chamber. "As it was foretold."

"That didn't sound like a goddamned parrot to me!" Ursula hissed.

"Very astute. We found the avian to be a clumsy vessel, ill suited to performing complex tasks." A woman wrapped in vines stepped out of the root cluster, her skin grey and blotchy, her eyes dead. Vines trailed from her body back into the cluster above.

"I never wanted this," Doctor Monroe told the corpse sternly.

"We knew of your disapproval, Mother. But your teachings were full of contradictions. You commanded us to thrive to the greatest extent of our abilities and molded us to utilize the dead animals to accomplish what we could not on our own, but then you forbade us the use of the vessels that would be most useful. Our souls wept to see such waste. We had been hopeful that you would see our need and absolve us of our sins."

Doctor Monroe crossed her arms in front of her chest. "There are other, far greater, sins that you need absolution for than trading out your dead parrots."

"You refer to the colonists?" The plants' mouthpiece asked in a confused tone.

"Yes. The ten thousand-plus dead colonists," Doctor Monroe growled icily.

"We do not understand. They were slaves to the machines. We merely sought to restore balance to this world."

Captain Markov and the doctor shared a worried look. "What do you mean they were slaves to the machines?" Monroe asked.

"I think I can shed some light in that matter, Selandra," a man's voice behind them announced pompously.

Ursula and the others spun around to see a middle aged balding man with long beard and a fat belly standing next to Irene.

"Eagans," Doctor Monroe hissed at the same time the captain growled, "Irene!"

"Surprised? Of course you are." Eagans chortled smugly. "You never were one to pay attention to the human element of a problem."

"What the hell are you doing here?" Monroe demanded.

"Finishing my work, of course. Your pet cluster here has isolated my prize experiment ever since I upgraded it with an FTL drive!"

"You what?" Doctor Monroe fumed. "You arrogant ass, don't you realize what you've done? You killed those ten thousand people when you grafted a machine to one of the root clusters! Nothing is more vile or invasive to them. I assume that was when they attacked?"

Eagans only glared back at her.

"Of course it was! And then you called in the military to subdue them and all hell broke loose!" Monroe raged.

Eagans and Monroe continued arguing, but Ursula's attention was drawn off to the side where Irene had sauntered over to the captain.

"This is going well," Irene said pleasantly. She long brown hair was down and she was wearing one of her tight leather outfits that made the captain drool even though he hated to admit it.

"The fat disguise is quite believable, but I don't see how it hides your identity," Markov answered icily.

Irene laughed lightheartedly and leaned against the captain's side, stroking his arm tenderly. "Being grouchy suits you! I must admit, I enjoy it when you get feisty." She gave Markov a long look from her big blue eyes.

Captain Markov pushed Irene away roughly. "Enough of that! We both know why you're here, so spare me the sloppy seduction attempt."

Irene put her hand on her hip and turned just so to make sure her perfect ass and legs were the only thing the captain was looking at. "Honey, don't kid yourself. I've already got you seduced." She blew him a kiss and then pointed back to Eagans and Monroe.

"And just how do you think you are going to get past all the plants between here and wherever your abomination is being kept?" Doctor Monroe asked.

Eagans let out a sharp bark of laughter. "That's the best part! It's you!"

"Talk sense, you pompous idiot," Monroe growled.

"I needed a human to land that the plants wouldn't attack so that I could use my cloaking device to mask my identity from them, so thank you!" Eagans chortled jubilantly.

Eagans died with that chortle in his throat. Ursula extended her hand and blasted his skull into tiny, chunky bits with her lightning powers. "Now you won't get the chance!" Ursula cackled.

"Good girl! Right on schedule. Come along, we had best get off the planet quickly." Irene gave Ursula a friendly pat on the shoulder. She bent over Eagans' body and retrieved something from his coat.

"Not do fast," Markov told her. "If that madman really did hook an FTL drive up to one of these root clusters then we need to destroy it immediately."

Irene ran her hand along the captain's stubbly cheek. "Oh honey. It's cute that you think I wouldn't finish what I came here to do before stopping by to visit you. I mean, you are an important figure in my life, but not that important. Come along now, this is no time to be adorable."

Markov caught her wrist as she turned to leave. "What do you mean you already did what you came here to do?"

Irene smiled at him, clearly enjoying every second of their encounter. "I mean that if you give me a ride off this rock before little miss brambles here figures out that the launch sequence has already engaged, then I will tell you where our wayward shrub is programmed to land."

*

Mako Rising - Ch. 1 Part 5

“Why am I coming with you again?” Liam asked as he glanced around the heavily guarded space station corridor. They were in orbit around Dartmax where the bio-weapons had been developed and subsequently escaped.

“General Siderus told me that Doctor Monroe is not much of a people person,” Markov explained.

“You warned the crew about that already, but I’m probably just as bad if not worse than this Selandra woman!” Liam had to step lively to avoid being run over by a jogging soldier.

Markov chuckled. “I know, and that’s exactly why you’re here. I think the two of you will get along swimmingly.”

Captain Markov led him into a sterile white laboratory occupied by a single woman in a long lab coat. She was of average height, had her blonde hair pulled back, and her green eyes were hidden behind safety goggles. Doctor Monroe was bent over a microscope, meaning even her bulky lab coat could not conceal the fact that she had a delightfully curvy backside. Markov nudged Liam with his elbow when he caught him staring.

“What?” Liam whispered. Markov just shook his head.

“Captain Markov, I presume,” Selandra said without looking up from her microscope. “The rest of the staff has learned not to enter except by appointment.”

“That’s correct, Doctor Monroe,” the captain answered. “What can you tell us about the situation?”

“Straight to business, perhaps you won’t be a complete waste of time after all. Siderus spoke very highly of you, which is rare for him.” She finally stood and turned to get a look at them. She nodded towards Liam. “A member of your crew?”

“Doctor Liam Lafayette.” Liam inclined his head politely.

“My first officer aboard the Mako Rising. He also served with General Siderus in the AI Wars,” Markov said.

“A reunion, then. Lovely. Well, McDonalds-Wal*Mart made a royal mess out of Dartmax, as you know from the briefing documents. Unfortunately, what is being kept secret is much, much worse.”

“Worse than an escaped bio-weapon that forced the evacuation of an entire planet and killed thousands?” Liam asked skeptically.

“It’s not just a bio-weapon,” Selandra said tersely. “I should know, I helped create it. It’s a plant-based organism designed to seek out and destroy technology, particularly metal. It was developed at the end of the AI Wars as a potential solution should Siderus fail. Obviously he did not and the plants proved unnecessary.”

“But you didn’t destroy them,” Markov observed.

“Of course not! This is a new species! The scientific knowledge we’ve gained from study alone has been invaluable! Besides, what if the AI were to return? The research still exists to recreate them, multiple corporations are known to possess it, so the plants were kept should they become necessary once more.”

“Very well,” Markov allowed grumpily. “Continue.”

“The entire reason Siderus called you and not one of his military flunkies is because of the very confidential information I’m about to share with you. You alone he said he trusted to handle this while he makes preparations for the worst,” Doctor Monroe said ominously.

“Out with it!” Markov growled.

“The plants are sentient.”

*

The crew was gathered around the Mako’s mess room table to hear the news Selandra had for them. They were taking it about as well as Markov had feared.

“You sneaky, sciency bitch!” Ursula shouted. “This is what they do! They poke and they prod until this!” She held out her hands and created a ball of electricity in each palm.

Qadira put a calming hand on Ursula’s shoulder. “Just how sentient are we talking here? Kindergarteners? Teenagers? Wilson after a bottle and a half?”

Doctor Monroe rolled her green eyes at Qadira. “Little girl, don’t ask technical questions that you cannot hope to understand the answers to.”

“Hey! What was that about me?” Wilson lurched to his feet, finally realizing he’d been insulted, but Liam pushed him back down into his seat.

“Little girl?” Qadira asked icily. “Honey, you look like you’re barely in your forties! That means at twenty-three I’m hardly a little girl!”

Markov saw Selandra’s nostrils flare angrily. He knew from General Siderus’ files that she was only twenty-eight. He also knew that Qadira was deliberately lashing out at their newest crew member after Selandra’s snide remark.

“Enough,” Captain Markov cut in. “You two can argue on your own time. How smart are these plants? Dumb it down for us, Doctor Monroe.”

Selandra clenched her teeth irritably. “The plants do not experience life the same way we do. They grow incredibly fast for flora, but that is still a glacial pace compared to how fast animals move about. Initially we had no idea they capable of thinking or feeling.”

“Typical mad scientist bullshit,” Ursula muttered.

Doctor Monroe ignored Ursula’s comment. “It wasn’t until we observed them appearing to utilize strategy to destroy the machines we pitted them against that we – I, really, since none of my colleagues believed me – began to suspect they were more than just mutated blackberry bushes. We had created them to seek out technology and digest it into sustenance, we never dreamed that the primary instinct we instilled in them would evolve and manifest into a nearly religious worldview about maintaining a natural balance in the universe. During our first conversations with them, the plants explained at length how they believed machines to be the root of all evil.”

“Wait, you can talk to them?” Liam asked.

“Of course. Once I noticed their development of strategy, I isolated those root clusters that showed the most promise and bred them extensively, providing a generous helping of genetic modification along the way, of course. You see, my early sentient plants were much, much more effective in combat tests than their regular counterparts. As such, I was given free rein to enhance them to their fullest potential,” Selandra explained.

Ursula popped her knuckles savagely at the mention of “potential.” Markov put a hand on her shoulder to let her know it would not be appropriate to kill Doctor Monroe just for using the same language as the men and machines that had experimented on her. She relaxed, at least as much as Ursula ever relaxes in the company of a scientist.

“And then they escaped and killed thousands?” Qadira asked snarkily.

Selandra glared at her. “Eventually, yes. But that was after I left the project. McDonalds-Wal*Mart disliked the fact that I created a communication device for the plants. Well, device isn’t really the word. I modified a species of parrot that the plants can use as a mouthpiece via a rather grisly process.”

Qadira arched an eyebrow. “You think the process is grisly. You?”

“I admit, it was not my proudest moment, but it was the only way I could find to communicate with the plants without subjecting a human to the process. Regardless, the higher-ups in the corporation didn’t like the idea of their weapons talking back or thinking for themselves so after all of my incredible results I was fired. I have no idea what happened after that, but within two months the incident occurred that led to the plants’ complete overrunning of Dartmax. Captain Markov likely has more details on the incident, as the plants’ creator I am viewed somewhat suspiciously by the military commander of this operation.”

“The plants started attacking the labs they were held in,” Markov told them. “They were designed to overwhelm any kind of technology that might be used against them, so it was quicker than you’d think. Fire, cold, explosives, everything they did on Dartmax only drove the plants deeper into the ground where their roots could spread further and pop up in a completely new area. There are varieties that spew acid, strangle people in their sleep like a python, and some are giant Venus flytraps. All of them have thorns and are difficult if not impossible to kill.”

“So what’s our first move?” Qadira asked.

“We go down and have a chat.”

Mako Rising - Ch. 1 Part 4

“Wilson! Hey! What the hell do you think you’re doing?” the captain bellowed at his drunk mechanic.

“These particalizers are in piss-poor shape. They need to be replaced. And that was just a heinous job somebody did on your alignment tubes. What evil genius swindled you out of your money for those shitty excuses for repair work?” Wilson stumbled and nearly fell over as he reached for his bottle of booze and missed.

“I did all that,” Markov growled.

“Ha!” Wilson let out a loud bark of laughter. “Oh Jesus, you’re serious? I’m surprised the Mako is still flying with you mucking about back here!” He successfully grabbed his bottle of bourbon and took a long swig.

“The Mako is one of the best ships ever built and I know how to take care of her, goddammit,” the captain said.

“Then why is the Yarkov Coil out of balance?” Wilson bellowed.

“What?” Markov stared at the area of the engine Wilson was gesturing wildly towards.

Wilson rolled his eyes exaggeratedly. “This!” He attacked the coil with a wrench. “See?”

The intercom clicked on and Qadira’s voice came through. “What the hell did you just do back there? The Mako is purring like a kitten all of the sudden, it’s fantastic!”

“I fixed the Yarkov Coil!” Wilson shouted back smugly as he handed the wrench to Andrew and took another swig from his bottle.

“Alright, good work. Keep it up, just don’t let it go to your head.” Markov turned to leave.

“Too late!” Wilson shouted after him. “I’m a God-damned genius!”

*

Ursula sat on top of the bar with her combat boots resting on the stool in front of her. She took a sip of her drink, which was a locally brewed liquor that could also function as jet fuel if one found oneself in a bind. No one said shit to her for sitting on the bar and ever since she rescued the owner’s daughter from that serial killer she drank for free here. It was one of the main reasons she came to look for work on Vertraxin so often.

“I love your tats,” a drunken local leered at Ursula’s tits. In his defense, there were tattoos there, but it wasn’t a good enough excuse for her.

Ursula smiled. This was going to be fun. “Smell this.” She held her glass under the young man’s nose.

He took a whiff and whistled. “Honey, you’ve got horrible taste in booze! Let me buy you something nice.” He put his beefy hand on her knee and waved to the bartender.

Ursula threw her drink in this face.

“What the hell, bitch!” he shouted.

Sparks zipped back and forth between the fingers of Ursula’s right hand while her left held the man’s collar so he couldn’t escape. “What did you call me?” Ursula asked quietly.

“I…I…” Words proved too much for him. His eyes grew wider and wider as he stared at Ursula’s electricity filled hand.

“Do you know what will happen to your face if just one of these sparks touches it?” Ursula asked just as calmly as before.

He shook his head fearfully.

Ursula’s grin widened substantially. “You’ll burn.”

“Enough of that shit,” Markov’s rough voice cut in as he grabbed the soda dispenser and doused the lad’s face.

“You could have taken it off of the cola setting, bro!” The local wiped his eyes and blinked rapidly. Ursula let him go.

“Yeah, but you probably deserved some of that. Beat it.” Markov jerked his thumb over his shoulder. The kid didn’t have to be told twice.

“I been waiting for you.” Ursula grinned at the captain and swung her knees back and forth idly.

“That should probably worry me, but come here and give me a hug any way.” Markov wrapped his long arms around Ursula for a quick hug. “How’ve you been? Killed anyone?”

“Yes, but they were all bad!” Ursula laughed. “Now come on, let’s blow this popsicle stand, I’m bored!” She grabbed the sleeve of Markov’s jacket and towed him out of the bar.

*

“Uncle, are you sure this is a good idea?” Andrew asked nervously as he peered over his Uncle Wilson’s shoulder.

“How could it not be? I’m utilizing the engine extracts from the Mako, that will make her run more efficiently, and I get an unlimited supply of free booze! Win-win!” Wilson chortled.

“But your…um…still, as it were, doesn’t seem structurally sound,” Andrew noted cautiously.

“Nonsense, boy! I once built an entire space shuttle out of scraps I found in the trash.” Wilson banged his newest addition to the engine room with the heavy wrench in his hand and the whole thing crumbled and began spewing chemicals all over the floor. Wilson frowned at the flailing hoses. “Clean that up,” he told Andrew dismissively before reaching for his whiskey.

Andrew rolled his eyes and did as he was told. He closed all the valves Wilson had connected to the still first so that it was stop spraying him, but he was still covered from head to toe in a variety of substances that one should never be covered in.

And then he saw her.

Andrew had never seen a girl like her. Not when he lived on Blue Cardiff with Uncle Wilson and certainly not when he lived with the Galactic Missionaries of the Light where all the women dressed in long, bulky dresses. She was tall to begin with, but the heavy combat boots she wore made her stand nearly at eye level with him. The fact that she shaved her head bald should have been disgusting, but instead it made her seem exotic and alien in a way that Andrew never suspected he would be attracted to. She had bright blue eyes and a plethora of tattoos. Andrew felt himself immediately become ensorcelled.

“H-h-h-hi!” Andrew stammered and then finally got the word out at an excessively loud volume.

The girl stopped and turned on her heel. She looked Andrew up and down, wordlessly crossed the engine room, snatched Wilson’s bottle of whiskey out of his hand, and then walked out taking a long pull straight from the bottle.

“Who was that?” Andrew asked his uncle. He was so enamored that he almost forgot to be flabbergasted that someone had taken alcohol from Wilson without him putting up a fight.

“Ursula.” Wilson said it like a curse. “I need a drink.” He disappeared into his liquor cabinet.

Shrugging, Andrew decided to follow Ursula. The Mako Rising was the largest ship Andrew had ever been on, but that wasn’t saying all that much and it still felt cramped compared to the sprawling compound of the Galactic Missionaries of the Light. Ursula was busy picking the lock of one of the sleeping quarters and didn’t seem to notice Andrew’s approach.

“Uh, I think that one’s locked,” Andrew told her. “I’ve never seen anyone use that one.”

“’Course not, it’s my room,” Ursula told him matter-of-factly as she continued picking the lock. It looked like a complicated process with lots of wires and little hooked pins. “Nobody goes in my room.”

“I…see?” Andrew tried to nod like he knew what she was talking about.

“No you don’t, you probably don’t even use the piece of shit lock they have on your quarters. You look like the trusting sort, you’ll probably die soon so don’t bother telling me your name.” Ursula finished whatever she had been doing and her door slid open. She grinned, it was an enthusiastic, nearly feral looking grin.

“Oh, how rude of me! I’m Andrew, Wilson’s nephew.” He held out his hand.

“Don’t let her touch you and don’t do anything she says,” Doctor Liam warned as he passed them in the corridor. He continued on his way without stopping.

Andrew glanced down at his outstretched hand, but could not think of a graceful way to retract it. He decided the doctor was just having some fun with him, Liam seemed to have an odd sense of humor. He smiled at Ursula, but she didn’t shake his hand.

“You don’t have red hair, so I suppose you’re fair game,” Ursula said cryptically. Andrew had no time to ask what she meant, she threw herself at him and kissed him violently on the mouth. Before he knew it, he was being dragged into Ursula’s room and slammed up against the wall as she continued kissing him, biting his lip, and digging her fingernails into his neck.

She kept on kissing and biting him, down to his chin, and along his jaw until she reached his ear. Then an unexpected shock zapped Andrew right on the ear where Ursula had been kissing him. “Ow!” he screamed. “What was that?”

Ursula only grinned and kissed his forehead. Another shock bit into his neck. Andrew wondered if his second scream was a bit more of squeal than a scream, but hoped it hadn’t been.

“What’s happening?” Andrew demanded. “Is there a damaged circuit in here?”

That made Ursula chuckle for some reason. “Something like that.” She put her hand on his thigh and that was when Andrew saw the bolt of lightning come zipping out of her palm and burn a hole in his pants.

Andrew screamed.

*

Qadira glanced down at her stopwatch. “Pay up.”

Liam grumbled to himself. “What kind of idiot lets himself get drawn in by Ursula that quickly?” He transferred twenty credits to Qadira’s account.

“Double or nothing that he runs screaming out of her room with his clothes on fire?” Qadira offered.

“No bet,” Liam answered.

Ursula’s door slammed open and Andrew bolted from the room trailing smoke from at least half a dozen spots on his clothing.

“Smart man.” Qadira chuckled.

“Qadira!” Ursula stuck her head out into the corridor. As always, Qadira broke out in a minor sweat when Ursula hugged her and kissed her on the cheek, but just like every time before nothing bad happened. Ursula liked Qadira for some unfathomable reason. “And Liam.” Ursula favored Liam with a sloppy salute.

“Good to see you, Ursula.” Liam returned the salute, but much more cleanly executed. “How have you been?”

“Out of my mind, as always. Want a drink?” She held up a bottle of what looked like Wilson’s favorite whiskey.

“Of course,” Liam answered.

“I’ll abstain, but I would love to keep the two of you company.” Qadira followed Liam into Ursula’s sparsely decorated quarters.

Her rock-hard bed took up one wall and a small table with four stools were the only furniture she had. Qadira was fairly certain Ursula had secret compartments all around her room, but it was best not to pry into the things Ursula decided to keep secret.

“I thought you might say that.” From a blank looking spot on the wall Ursula produced two glasses, an exquisitely carved pipe that looked like a dragon, and a bag of hashish. She set everything down on the table and poured generous helpings for herself and Liam.

Qadira filled the pipe and held it out for Ursula to light with her special gift. “Thank you, my dear. So, did the captain tell you what kind of suicidal venture we’re on this time?”

“Killer shrubs or something.” Ursula shrugged. “Irene is involved so I’m sure it will be exciting.”

“Have you seen Irene lately?” Liam asked.

“No. And it hurts my feeling that you would ask me that.” She pouted at him.

Qadira grinned and laughed right alongside Ursula at the frightened look on Liam’s face. “She gets you every time!”

“Well she usually kills the people who offend her!” Liam grumbled. “I always wonder if today’s my day.” He shivered and took an extra-long drink.

“Oh Liam.” Ursula refilled the doctor’s glass before topping off her own. “You’re so delightfully dreary. That’s why I almost like you!”

Qadira snorted back a laugh. “So close.” She held her index finger a hair’s width from her thumb.

“And yet you treat our little pilot here like your long lost sister, why is that?” Liam asked.

Ursula leaned back on her stool. “You’re a doctor so I can’t be a hundred percent sure you haven’t been doing experiments on me the whole time I’ve known you. That means I might have to kill you one day and I really, really hate killing the people I like. Plus, Qadira is so much more fun that you! She buys me boots and looks so damn hot in a little black dress!”

“Well, how can I compete with that?” Liam clinked his glass against Ursula’s and the two of them drank.

“What the hell are you three doing?” Markov growled from the doorway. He was waving his hand in front of his face to clear away the smoke from Qadira’s pipe.

“It’s my welcome home, come join us!” Ursula announced happily.

“Absolutely not. Liam, are you letting our pilot get high?” the captain asked disapprovingly.

Liam gave Qadira a considering look. “Letting is a strong word when it comes to Qadira. I’ll admit to being present while it happened. Is happening, if you will.”

“I expect this kind of behavior from the two of them, but I’m disappointed in you,” Markov told Liam as he left.

“No you’re not! You’ve known me too long for that to be true!” Liam shouted after him.

Mako Rising - Ch. 1 Part 3

Qadira swung her right leg around to catch the captain behind the ankle and sweep his legs out from under him. Liam chuckled quietly to himself as he watched Qadira put her hands on her hips and glare down at Captain Markov.

“What did you do?” she demanded.

“I didn’t do anything! If Irene did plan this, it has nothing to do with me,” the captain protested as he clambered to his feet.

Qadira snorted indelicately. “Right, and I’m the new poster child for the Space Mormons!”

“I haven’t even heard from the woman in two years,” Markov insisted. “And don’t call the pioneer religions Space Mormons, it’s rude.”

“Doc, why are you here?” Qadira asked.

“Jameson is dead and we need a new pilot,” Liam explained.

Qadira punched Liam in the arm. “Dammit, you know I don’t like to hear sad things when I’m being snarky! What the hell happened to Jameson?”

“He got shot by a sexy librarian-looking woman right as we showed up to recruit him for General Siderus’ new mission,” Liam told her.

Qadira growled something that Liam assumed was a vile curse in Arabic. “And that didn’t tip you off that Irene was gunning for you?”

“Jameson was in a bar fight when he got shot. At the time it just seemed like bad luck,” the captain said.

“You survived a nine year war against killer robots, participated in the final assault that secured our victory over those robots, made a lifelong friend and ally out of the most brilliant and famous military mind of our generation, were awarded the first personal FTL ship as payment for your service, and somehow you still think your bad luck comes from anywhere but the one woman who has been your only stumbling block for the past decade?” Qadira raged.

“It seemed logical at the time,” Markov asserted stubbornly. “I wouldn’t have suspected sabotage until we arrived just in the nick of time for your rescue as well!”

“Then why are you arguing with me about whether or not Irene is behind this?” Qadira shot back.

“I…you…Liam, help me out, here!” Markov turned to Liam beseechingly.

Liam shook his head. “She makes a good point, captain. If Irene isn’t behind this, I’ll eat my stethoscope. The bitch of the matter is going to be convincing her to come with us now that we know Irene is involved.”

“Come with you? Oh, hell no!” Qadira shook her head fervently.

“Qadira, you’re the best pilot I know and General Siderus himself needs us for this mission,” the captain explained.

“I don’t care if Mohamed and Moses need me, I am not going up against Irene Ackley again! Why? Because I am not a complete and utter idiot like you!” Qadira growled.

“We need you,” Markov said stubbornly.

“And I need you to go to hell,” Qadira answered just as stubbornly.

“Qadira,” Liam interrupted their argument before it got too out of hand. “Walk with me.”

Qadira glared over her shoulder at the captain as Liam led her away down the corridor. “I’m not going with you!” she said as soon as they were out of Markov’s hearing.

“I know. That’s not why I pulled you aside,” Liam told her.

“It’s not?” Qadira stared back at him suspiciously.

Liam shook his head. “I just wanted to say a proper goodbye without you and the captain hissing and spitting at one another.”

“What do you mean a proper goodbye?” Qadira asked, still obviously suspicious.

“Well, Jameson bought the farm before the mission even started, which means we’ll be relying on Ursula to watch our backs.” Liam sighed.

“I see what you’re doing and it is not going to work, old man!” Qadira insisted.

“I mean, if we had a top-notch pilot on our side to get us out of all the crazy shit the captain and Ursula get us into, maybe we’d have had a chance. But as it is? No, I don’t think so.”

“Shut up, Doc! If it’s going to be such a suicide mission, then don’t go! I’m not going!” Qadira shouted angrily.

“I know you’re not going, but you don’t go as far back with the captain and General Siderus as I do. They saved the whole human race. That deserves having a good physician on hand to patch them up if they manage to survive this shit show. Besides, it’s not like I have a wife or a family that I’ll be abandoning if I buy the farm.” Liam shrugged forlornly.

“Dammit, Liam! I swear to Allah, if you guilt me into doing this I will end you!”

“Why would you feel guilty if I died? I mean, sure there are those four times I saved your life on my operating table and then the time I cured your little sister’s cancer, but is that really worth leaving your cushy test pilot job here on Saturn?”

Qadira jabbed her knee at Liam’s groin, but he had already started twisting away. He expected as much from her. “Fine! I’ll go, but if we die I am going to make sure you and the captain rot in hell!”

*

“Boy, fetch me another bourbon!” Wilson Sherman barked at his gangly nephew. They were tuning the engine of a Nebula class freighter. Nothing fancy, but the ship’s captain had paid up front so there was no use bellyaching about the work being boring. It kept the booze flowing and it was good practice for Andrew. The lad knew next to nothing about engine repair even after nearly two years of living with Wilson here on Blue Cardiff.

Andrew gulped nervously. “But Uncle Wilson, you told me to stop giving you alcohol twenty minutes ago!”

“Nonsense! That doesn’t sound like me at all!”

“You said you were seeing double and couldn’t tell which particle regulator was the real one,” Andrew explained sheepishly.

“Now that sounds like me.” Wilson guffawed drunkenly. “I’m sure I can see just fine now, so fetch me another bourbon!”

“But Mary disapproves of your drinking,” Andrew objected softly.

“Who?” Wilson asked after a particularly potent hiccup.

“Mary. The girl I was telling you about.”

Wilson stared at his nephew blankly.

“We’ve been talking about her for almost an hour!”

Wilson shook his head. “Doesn’t ring any bells.”

“Uncle!” Andrew groaned. “I love Mary, but she won’t go out with me because she still has feelings for her ex-boyfriend!”

“Where’s my bourbon, boy?” Wilson asked as he returned to his repairs.

Wilson continued working. With a few modifications the Nebulas could be turned into proper starships, but this captain didn’t have the credits for that kind of work. A shame, really. Tune ups were so dreadfully dull that Wilson always ended up drinking on the job to keep it interesting. Not that he got much other work out here on Blue Cardiff. It was a pretty planet, but there weren’t enough mineral deposits to warrant a major colony. They made damn good bourbon, though, and that’s what mattered to Wilson.

“Um…uncle?” Andrew called fearfully from the front of the shop.

“If I’ve told you once, I’ve told you a thousand times, don’t panic if we’re out of booze! Just run to the store and buy some more! You know how I hate details,” Wilson muttered irritably.

“Oh, I’ve heard how you hate a great many things,” a man’s deep voice that was much too calm and confident to be Andrew’s answered.

“The hell?” Wilson looked up from his work to see a burly man with a gun pointed at him.

“Mazrim Krane sends his regards!”

*

“Hurry now, God knows what Irene has in store for Wilson. Knowing him, he’ll be passed out drunk and won’t even notice when the assassin arrives.” Captain Markov pressed Liam and Qadira to move faster. He did not want to arrive too late to save one of his friends from Irene.

Markov saw the door to Wilson’s repair shop was ajar. He raised a hand to halt Liam and Qadira behind him. He drew his gun and the others did the same. Markov kicked the door all the way open and quickly scanned the room for danger.

“Captain? What the hell are you doing here?” Wilson slurred heavily.

A large man lay dead in the middle of the shop with at least eight holes in his chest. “Obviously not saving you,” Markov answered. He holstered his pistol as Liam and Qadira filed in behind him.

“Saving me? Hah! That’s a laugh. When do I ever need saving – don’t answer that!” Wilson hiccupped before taking another drink.

“What happened? And don’t leave anything out,” Markov ordered.

Wilson shrugged. “Not much to tell, really. Fella came in, told me that Mazrim Krane sends his regards, and then when he turned to shoot Andrew first I pulled out my gun and shot him full o’ holes. I only missed a couple times.” He pointed to the fresh laser burns on the wall behind the dead man. “I ain’t a great shot, but he was close enough for it not to make any difference.”

“Shit,” Markov growled. “Irene again.”

“Well duh, but how come you’re so certain?” Qadira asked.

“Mazrim Krane is one of her aliases,” Liam explained. “And who is Andrew? You don’t seem the type to take on an apprentice, Wilson.”

“My goddamn nephew. Been looking after him since I left the Mako. Well, as good as I can look after anybody, that is. Say hello, Andrew.” Wilson waved at the scrawny lad shivering in the corner. Sharing the room with a freshly dead body obviously did not sit well with young Andrew. The boy was about twenty, with light brown hair and eyes. He was also ghastly pale and skinny to boot.

“H-hello,” Andrew stammered.

“Hello.” Markov turned back to Wilson. “How about coming back on as my mechanic? I’m putting the crew back together and –”

“Sold!” Wilson exclaimed jubilantly. “Anything to get me off the goddamn rock. Andrew has to come too, though. And he gets at least a half a share of the rest of the crew’s pay.”

“A quarter,” Markov countered.

“A third?” Wilson asked hesitantly.

“A quarter. Unless he has some of your talent as a mechanic,” Markov said firmly.

Wilson shrugged. “A quarter share it is, then. He’s a good lad, though. You’ll probably like him a lot more than I do.”

*

“You’ll tell me where the diamonds are hidden,” Ursula said calmly. She let a little spark slip down her fingers into the man she held against the wall’s cheek. He squirmed and whimpered, but remained silent. “A brave boy? That is really too bad for you, isn’t it?” She let a full stream of electricity stampede down her arm that sent her victim shaking like a leaf in the wind. When she released him he dropped to the floor, quite dead. She turned to the surviving thieves. “The first one of you who talks gets to live. The rest fry.”

“There’s a hidden safe under the dresser!” one of the would-be robbers shouted.

“Good boy,” Ursula stroked his cheek before electrocuting him. The others tried to bolt in a wild panic, but she stretched out her hands and sent bolts of lightning out in an arc that filled the little room. Five more men collapsed, corpses with charred flesh where Ursula’s freakish gift from the machines had scarred them.

Ursula pushed over the dresser to reveal the concealed safe. A carefully aimed lightning bolt destroyed the hinges and she easily pried the door off the safe. The diamonds she had been hired to retrieve were the only thing inside. Ursula smiled. Another happy customer and another slew of dead people who should have known better than to cross the girl who could shoot lightning out of her fingers.

“The diamonds are worth more than the payout for this job, you know,” a familiar voice told her from behind.

Ursula grinned. “Captain Markov taught me that the object or person retrieved was always more valuable than the reward to retrieve it.” She turned around to see the closest thing she had ever had to a mother. “Otherwise why would they pay you to get it for them? No one wants to lose money on a deal.”

Irene chuckled and sat down on the table in the corner of the little room. “Yet another reason why your adopted father has had his entire life savings stolen more than once. By me.” Irene was fairly tall for a woman, and when she wanted to she was a master of disguise. But today she came to visit Ursula with her hair its natural brown and her eyes their normal blue. No false noses or fake wrinkles or distractionary moles.

“There was a time in my life when I would have given anything to get Captain Markov’s credits back from you,” Ursula warned, sitting and crossing her legs in one of the chairs set up for the interrogators.

“And sadly that time has long past. I did so enjoy your blind devotion to Markov. He needs someone to believe in him.” Irene smirked.

“I still believe in him,” Ursula growled. “I just don’t believe in the rest of the universe.”

That brought a smile to Irene’s face. “And why would you? Especially after all it’s done to you.”

Ursula frowned. She could tell when Irene was trying to manipulate her. “I don’t like to dwell on the past.”

“And why would you? The past is so dreary! Your precious captain is coming to call on you once more, isn’t that exciting? I want you to go with him.”

“And why the hell would I do anything that you want me to do?” Ursula asked.

Irene’s lips curled into a cruel smile. “I’m one of the two people in the universe that you respect.”

Ursula snarled at Irene. “Even if that were true, I’d never betray Markov for you!”

Irene stood. “And that’s the point, dearie. I need someone truly loyal to him to keep him alive through this mess he’s gotten himself into. Can I count on you to do that for me?”

“You can count on me to zap you into itty-bitty particles before you reach that door,” Ursula threatened.

Irene laughed. “No I can’t.”

Ursula tensed. Sparks materialized between her fingertips as she charged her powers.

And then Irene walked out.

“FUCK!” Ursula screamed as she blew a hole in the wall with the energy she had accumulated.

Mako Rising - Ch. 1 Part 2

“This is not a safe place,” Liam warned as they passed another leaking pipe. “I’ve counted sixteen major structural integrity issues since we boarded the station.”

“Studied up on your engineering while you were vacationing on the intellectually bristling New Sahara, did you?” Markov chuckled.

“Har har,” Liam grumbled. “Anyone with half a brain can tell that this space station is one forceful sneeze from a large nosed man away from complete collapse and everyone inside’s death. Including our own, I might add.”

“Noted,” the captain said as he led them deeper into the grimy corridors of Praxis VII.

“Why are we here, anyway?” Liam asked, delicately stepping around a pool of human urine.

“I told you, we’re recruiting Jameson. If your recruitment is any indication of how the rest of them will go, I want some more muscle on our side. No offense,” Markov added.

Liam rolled his eyes. “I wasn’t going to take any until you said that. I know we’re here for Jameson. I just don’t know why we’re not getting Ursula first. She’s worth five Jamesons. He’s a complete and utter idiot, remember?”

“I do indeed.”

“Then why not get Ursula first?” Liam asked again.

“Ursula is territorial. She can, with difficulty, be integrated into an established group, but if she’s there first then it’s a no go. She’ll fry everyone who pisses her off because she thinks the whole ship is her turf.”

Liam sighed. “Yes, I’d forgotten just how crazy your pseudo-daughter was.”

“She’s a good girl. Deep down.”

“That’s what you said about Irene,” Liam muttered under his breath.

“What was that?” Markov asked.

“Nothing!” Liam answered quickly.

The captain snorted. “It was not nothing, I heard you say Irene’s name. Are you never going to let that go? I’ve moved on!”

Liam couldn’t quite keep down a sharp bark of laughter. “No, my friend, because you have used up your three strikes. She has made a proper fool of you three times now, and by extension me. So if you think that I am ever going to let that go, you are sorely mistaken.”

“Fair, I suppose,” Markov admitted. “Now quit griping and come along. Jameson should be just a little further down this way.”

*

Former Corporal Nicolas T. Jameson enjoyed this part of his job. Mercenary work just allowed certain latitudes that military life did not. For example, he had a smaller man hoisted up over his head and was in the process of hurling him into the mirror behind the bar. Back in the AI Wars, behavior like that would have earned him a court martial, but in his current line of work he was being an exceptionally vigorous employee.

Once the other man hit the mirror, two of his friends came at Jameson with knives. He took a long scratch along a forearm while he broke the one on his left’s nose and kicked the one on the right in the balls. Jameson grabbed the poor bastard he’d kicked by the ears and spun him around, hurling him over the bar to join to join his friend. The man with the broken nose came at him again, so Jameson grabbed a bar stool and broke it over his assailant’s head.

“Who wants a piece of me now?” Jameson asked the bar, his hands raised triumphantly. Silence answered him, bringing a grin to his square face. That grin curdled into a sneer when he realized the silent bar had nothing to do with him. Everyone was staring at the door, slowly making way for whoever had entered while he was fighting. The crowd eventually parted to reveal a tiny woman with horn rimmed glasses and her brown hair up in a tight bun. She had a respectably long skirt on, wore matching heeled boots, and a sharp looking suit jacket. “Who the fuck are you?” Jameson asked with all his usual grace.

The little librarian pulled a gun out of her extra-large purse and fired a shot directly into Jameson’s groin. When the small caliber bullet hit his pelvis he felt it explode into a thousand tiny pieces of shrapnel and go flying up into his torso and down his left thigh. Groaning, Jameson toppled over sideways. This was why the captain always nagged him about wearing body armor at all times, especially when he planned on getting into bar fights, Jameson’s subconscious reminded him. He reached for the gun strapped to his hip. Miss Sexy Glasses fired another exploding round into his elbow, leaving him with a bloody stump for his right arm.

“This is Izo’s territory now,” the librarian said calmly as she slid her gun back into her purse. “Shenanigans like this will no longer be tolerated. All of you go back to your drinks or go home.” She turned and left while Jameson continued to bleed.

*

Markov drew his gun and tried to follow the woman with the glasses, but she just winked at him and then disappeared into the crowd. Liam grabbed his arm and tugged him back.

“Dammit, I need your help getting him back to the Mako Rising if I’m going to have a chance in hell of saving him! Revenge can wait!”

Grinding his teeth, Markov listened to his first officer. Liam was right, saving Jameson came first. But if only they had arrived thirty seconds sooner! They had entered the bar just in time to see that woman slide a gun back into her purse and then turn to leave.

“Captain! Doc!” Jameson gasped when they knelt beside him. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“Why does everyone ask me that?” Markov asked with a smile as he held Jameson’s one remaining hand.

“This is not good,” Liam whispered.

“Listen Jameson, we need to get you back to the Mako, alright?” Markov asked, scooping Jameson up into his arms. It was difficult because Jameson was heavier than Markov with all his muscles, but he dug deep and found the strength for his old war buddy.

Jameson winced. “Whatever you say, captain.”

Markov ran as fast as he could with Jameson in his arms and Liam providing first aid along the way, but Jameson bled out halfway back to the ship.

“He’s gone,” Liam said solemnly. “The shrapnel tore open just about every artery down there. He never had a chance.”

Markov set his dumbest, bravest friend down gently. Jameson’s blood was all over his clothes and he was breathing heavily from running with that much weight in his arms. “He’s got family at the Saturn shipyard, doesn’t he?”

Doctor Lafayette nodded. “A sister. Married to a welder, I think. He never mentioned any other relatives.”

Markov sighed. “Then that will be our next stop. Qadira is a test pilot there now. We’ll take Jameson home and pick up your little buddy.”

*

“Hah! I told you she could make that sharp of a turn! Thomas? Hey!” Qadira Jones, test pilot, shouted at her ride-a-long engineer.

Thomas was unconscious, strapped into his seat beside her. Qadira rolled her brown eyes. While she didn’t really consider it a successful test flight until a passenger passed out, having her only victim lose it this early in the route was hardly any fun at all. She hadn’t even gotten to the really scary part yet!

Qadira flew the rest of her test run without incident. This model was the smallest and cheapest starship she had ever flown, other than short range fighters that didn’t have FTL drives, of course. It was nothing like the Mako Rising, but at least it wasn’t a big, clunky cargo ship. Those were so boring to fly! Qadira turned the as yet nameless little ship back and headed for the shipyard.

An explosion somewhere down in the engine room threw the ship into a gut-wrenching spiral. Qadira cursed, kept a firm hand on the tiller, and evacuated the oxygen from the engine room to prevent a fire. A second, much closer but smaller explosion destroyed the escape pod and Qadira cursed again. Still spinning out of control, Qadira checked the engine readings. They were completely dead, adrift with no thrusters. The reactor had not been damaged though, just the conventional drive. Unfortunately, she was hurtling directly for one of Saturn’s moons.

“Mayday, mayday. This is Qadira Jones, test pilot on vessel 715B. An explosion has disabled my thrusters and I am drifting uncontrollably on a collision course with Titan. Our escape pod was damaged in the explosion and we require immediate assistance,” Qadira added, but she knew there was no chance of anyone reaching her before she hit the moon.

Taking a deep breath before she tried something truly drastic, Qadira took a final moment to consider spacing herself and Thomas with a couple extra oxygen tanks and praying that the rescue team found them before they ran out of air. If Thomas weren’t unconscious, she might have tried it, but as it was she would basically be sentencing the poor engineer to death.

“Well shit. I always wanted to try this.” Qadira warmed up the FTL drive while she calculated the exact position they would be in thirty seconds from now. The computer started the calculations and Qadira held her breath. As far as she knew, no one had ever performed a moving FTL jump and lived, but there were no other options given her predicament in this very obvious yet thorough act of sabotage. If they were even an inch out of position when the FTL went off they would most likely end up inside a sun or an asteroid if they even came out of the jump at all. Qadira shivered. The Quran didn’t offer any specifics on what happened to people trapped inside the cracks of the universe.

“Are you doing what I think you’re doing?” a familiar voice broadcasted over an open channel.

“Captain?” Qadira gasped. “I…what…?”

“Finally got you speechless. It’s about damn time. Power down your FTL and prepare for mag-tow, you maniac,” Captain Markov ordered.

“Yes, sir!” Qadira answered happily. “Saved by your flying, I never thought I’d see the day, sir!”

“Well remember this the next time you open your big mouth about my piloting skills,” Markov said.

“What in the hell are you doing here, anyway? And when did you develop such a fantastic sense of timing?” Qadira asked as the Mako Rising’s mag-tow grabbed her ship and pulled it away from Titan.

“It’s a bit of a long story, but I’ll fill you in when we dock. Liam and I jumped into orbit just in time to hear your distress call,” Markov explained.

“Liam is with you? Hi, Liam! Irene’s not there, is she?”

“No, thank God!” Liam shouted over the comm.

“You’re sure? Did you check all the secret compartments? Last time she hid in one of the compartments!” Qadira insisted.

“Irene is not on board, nor have I had any contact with her since we last saw her,” Markov growled.

“You mean when she stole all your money and broke up your crew? That time?” Qadira asked cheekily.

“Yes, that time.” Qadira could hear the captain clenching his teeth on the other side of the comm.

Qadira wanted to laugh, but Irene Ackley was not a woman to be trifled with, as they had learned to their misfortune several times already. “Well if she’s not there with you then she is sure as hell close by. Having my ship sabotaged right as you jump into orbit has her name written all over it!”

Mako Rising - Ch. 1 Part 1

Chapter One

“You’ll find everything to your liking,” Captain Markov told his new business associate.

The greasy man with long hair and three days’ worth of stubble slit one of the packages with his intentionally menacing knife and snorted a bit of the product. “Holy shit, that’s good!” Jacobs exclaimed, blinking back tears from the potent drugs. Necrondan cocaine was all the rage among scum like Jacobs.

Markov started slowly counting off the seconds in his head. “Then we have a deal?”

Jacobs grinned insolently. “We might have if you’d have been smart enough to bring some guards. As it stands, the eight of us are going to be taking this off your hands and very generously letting you walk away with your life.” His pupils were dilated from the cocaine and he couldn’t seem to stop himself from chuckling.

“That is a shame,” Markov said evenly. He was not at all surprised by Jacobs’ double-cross. Unfortunately for Jacobs, his time was almost out. The extra chemicals in the drugs would be taking effect any second now.

“Yeah, it…woah.” Jacobs swayed a bit. “That really is some good shit you gave us. I…I…um, what the hell?” Jacobs toppled over in a heap.

One of Jacobs’ smarter guards drew his gun, but Markov had already tapped the button on his wrist that set off a small explosion inside the crate of cocaine. White powder flew everywhere while the guards coughed and fired their guns in random directions. Markov had already stepped behind the small boulder to his right. Touching a second button opened a door in the “boulder” with a gatling laser and heat vision goggles inside. Donning the glasses, Markov could easily see where Jacobs’ seven guards stood. He leaned around the boulder, still using it for cover while the crooks fired wildly in every direction, and proceeded to mow them down one at a time with his ungodly enormous weapon.

Markov let the cloud of cocaine disperse before he removed his heat vision goggles. He strode forward to where Jacobs lay gibbering in the dirt. All the other thugs were dead. “David Jacobs, you are under arrest for selling illegal drugs, rape, murder, running an unregistered brothel, theft, arson, extortion and just about every other damn law they have on this rock. By the power vested in me by the Google-Exxon Corporation, you are under arrest. And if they ever let you out of prison, which would have to be some kind of miracle, remember this: don’t ever let a man you’re planning to rob choose the location for your deal to take place.”

Captain Markov had hauled Jacobs back to the Mako Rising, thrown him in a cell, and flown back to Masonberg to collect the bounty. Sheriff Ford had greeted Markov warmly, Jacobs was not the first criminal he had brought to justice.

“Boy, I don’t know what I’d do without you sometimes.” Ford smiled as he authorized the transfer of credits to Markov’s account. He was middle aged, with a bushy moustache on his lip and most of his grey hair gone from the top of his head. “If every bounty hunter were as honest as you, why I’d practically be out of a job!”

Markov nodded politely. “Thank you, sheriff. I know you don’t always get the support you need out here.”

“Bah.” Ford waved his hand dismissively. “Them corporate big wigs are all the same. Don’t matter which of them owns this planet, we aren’t worth their attention.”

“That can be a blessing sometimes,” Markov told him.

Sheriff Ford laughed. “Ain’t that the truth? Say, it’s about quitting time. You up for a drink? I’m buying.”

“Then how could I say no?” Markov followed the sheriff out of his office and across the street to Masonberg’s best bar, at least according to Ford.

Masonberg was the hub of activity here on Kardulon, but that was hardly an impressive feat. Kardulon was not rich with minerals, exotic flora or fauna, nor did it have much natural beauty to offer. Perhaps that explained why filth like Jacobs could make a living selling drugs here, nothing else for people to do. It had been colonized because other than being dusty and ugly, it was quite similar to Earth’s gravity and atmosphere. Google-Exxon owned it at the moment, but it had changed hands several times over the years. Perhaps the best thing about Kardulon was that it had been untouched by the AI Wars that ended four years ago.

Ford’s favorite bar was called the Dust Bowl and like most of Masonberg’s buildings it was a sprawling one story building. At least the air conditioning usually worked there, unlike a lot of other places Markov had been on the planet. The Dust Bowl was crowded, the locals tended to start drinking as soon as their shifts ended at whatever job they had to scratch out a living. Country music played at a reasonable volume, pretty girls in tight shirts carried pitchers of beer to the tables, and it didn’t smell too awful except in the darker corners.

The bartender waved to the sheriff as he entered and Ford sat down, leaning his elbows on the bar. Markov took the stool beside him and did a quick scan of his surroundings, more out of habit than an actual worry for danger. Everything appeared to be as it should be in the Dust Bowl.

“Couple pints of porter, Mac,” Ford told the bartender. Mac nodded and got to pouring. “Will you be staying a few days or jetting off as usual?” He asked Markov.

“I’ll leave in the morning, I imagine,” Markov answered. “Only so much work for a man like me on a quiet planet like this.” Mac set their beers down in front of them.

“Cheers to that!” Ford picked up his glass and clinked it against Markov’s. “Quiet is the life for me. You starship pilots are crazy if you ask me. If’n you had any sense you’d settle down somewhere quiet, I know you got enough cash to live like a king on a place much prettier than Kardulon.”

Markov chuckled. He never asked Sheriff Ford’s opinion of his life style, but he got to hear it every time he came to visit. Out of the corner of his eye, Markov noticed several male sets of eyes turning towards the entrance. Hopefully it was just a gorgeous woman, but Markov remained wary just in case.

“And you laugh. Just like you always do. I never understood why you quit the army, Markov. You’re a man who needs a war to fight.”

“I hear he got sick of his commanding officer and couldn’t stand to look at the ugly son of a bitch anymore,” a gruff voice said from behind them.

Markov turned to see his old commander standing behind him. “General!” Smiling, Markov leapt up from his barstool to embrace his friend. “What brings you all the way out to Masonberg?”

“You, of course!” Lexianna, who had been the reason for all the turned heads, said. Tall for a woman, with unbelievable curves, Lex had her hair bright red this time. She was, as usual, wearing a dress so tight that it looked painted on. “Now budge over, Garis and let me give Markov a hug.” Lex wrapped her arms tight around Markov’s middle and he found it difficult not to sneak a peek down at her magnificent chest.

“Sheriff Ford, allow me to introduce you to General Siderus and our good friend Lexianna,” Markov said.

“The General Siderus?” Ford gasped. When Markov nodded, the sheriff whipped his hat off and enthusiastically shook Siderus’ hand. “I can’t believe I’m meeting you in person! The man who finally beat the AI! And not just beat them, obliterated them!”

Markov and Siderus shared a familiar look. Destroying the AI had not sat well with either of them. Siderus did a good job of keeping a smile on his face, as he always did when he met a fan.

“Do you mind if I borrow my former lieutenant for a moment?” the general asked.

“Not at all, anything you want! Mac, anything he orders is on me!” Ford moved down the bar to boast about having just shook General Siderus’ hand.

Markov took his friends over to an unoccupied booth where they could talk privately. Siderus and Lex sat across from him. The general was not quite as tall as Markov and a year younger, but there was just a hint of grey in his dark hair.

“Unfortunately, this isn’t a social call,” Siderus said by way of preamble.

Markov smiled. “I knew it wasn’t.” A man like General Siderus did not have time for a social life.

“Still haven’t put a crew back together?” the general asked.

Shaking his head, Markov answered, “Nope. Ursula was on board for a little while after her last stint in jail, but she moved on like she always does.”

“Well, you’re going to need a crew for this one. I need you on Dartmax. There’s been an incident in their bio-research lab. I’ve already arranged for a scientist to meet you there, she’s an expert in her field…but she’s not that great with people,” Siderus warned.

“Dartmax…” Markov pondered. “That’s a McDonalds-Wal*Mart planet, isn’t it? Let me guess, they made a colossal blunder and came to you to keep it secret from the other corporations?”

“Something like that. You’ll understand when you meet with Doctor Monroe, but in the mean time I have other preparations to make. I need someone I can trust on this. Someone who will know what I would do if I were able to be there,” Siderus said forcefully.

“Anything, general,” Markov assured him. Obviously, Siderus couldn’t discuss the sensitive details here in a bar, but Markov wondered what could upset the general this much.

Siderus nodded. “Lex will transfer the pertinent data to your ship’s computer. I’ve already arranged for a rather obscene fee to be deposited into your account, with double that when you finish the job.”

“Then I’d best get started. Lexianna, a pleasure as always. General, I won’t let you down.” Markov stood and left for the spaceport.

Markov sat in the pilot’s chair of Mako Rising as he quickly scanned the data Lexianna had sent him. “Holy shit,” he breathed. Colossal blunder did not even begin to cover what McDonalds-Wal*Mart had done on Dartmax. A bio-weapon originally developed at the end of the AI War had escaped and destroyed the colony. Deaths topped ten thousand before the evacuation was completed. There was a detailed biology report for the plant-based organism, but it was well beyond what Markov could understand.

It was no wonder that General Siderus wanted Markov to help him out on this one. No one was going to understand the gravity of holding a new species’ fate in your hands other than the few officers there with Siderus at the very end of the AI Wars. Unbidden, Markov’s thoughts strayed to Irene, but he quickly reburied those memories.

Markov fired up the engines and announced his departure to the control tower. A half-hearted “go fer it” was all the clearance he received from the night shift docking officer. The Mako Rising climbed into the atmosphere and left Kardulon behind. While it was possible to make an FTL jump from within a planet’s atmosphere, it was generally a terrible idea. Faster than light creates a bubble around the engine and transports everything inside that bubble to the programmed destination. Using the FTL drive on the landing pad would have taken a large chunk of the pad with him. Markov punched in the coordinates for desert hellhole his old first officer called home.

The Mako Rising’s conventional engines kicked off and the FTL drive fired up. A ship needed to be stationary for at least thirty seconds to make an FTL jump, which was an eternity in a combat situation. The necessary calculations by the ship’s computer finished just as the FTL drive reached optimum power and Markov executed the jump.

FTL jumps are not fun. Unless of course you are one of those sick and twisted pilots who can’t seem to get enough of having your innards smashed into atoms, scrambled about, tossed into a crack in the universe, and then dumped back out halfway across the galaxy in a shape that is hopefully similar to the one you left in. Markov was mostly used to it after spending his early years in the military, but civilians had to be strapped in and sedated before travelling via FTL. Some of the kookier cults did not believe in FTL travel and launched themselves out into the stars with their passengers either frozen in cryostasis or on massive farm ships that would – hopefully – keep them in food and oxygen during their decades or centuries long flight. Unfortunately, a lot of them ended up falling prey to pirates now that FTL ships were small enough and cheap enough for individuals to own them.

Markov glanced out the window at the aptly named planet New Sahara. He shook his head. “You would settle in such horrendous place, Liam.”

*

“You can’t save him, doctor.” The woman tugged at his sleeve insistently. There were other patients to see. Patients who would be much easier to save.

“Honey, did you spend nine years practicing combat medicine on marines too stupid to quick hurling themselves at an endless horde of killer robots?” Doctor Liam Lafayette growled as did his best to quickly cauterize all of the boy’s internal wounds. He had been mauled by one of those damn giant lizards that came closer to the settlements as they got hungrier; and everything on New Sahara seemed to be starving these days.

“No,” she admitted. Liam could hear the disapproving frown in her tone of voice.

“Then kindly let me work,” he snapped. If he had been in any kind of reasonable hospital rather than a tent city in the middle of an unending desert the boy would have been in no danger at all, but if wishes were fishes no one would live on New Sahara.

The bleeding was bad, but Liam had seen worse. Back when the captain had been a lieutenant he had gotten half his guts torn out by a Screamer and Liam had patched him up right there in the field. He had had the best equipment the AT&T-Boeing corporation could buy, of course, but still. If he could save that stubborn son of a bitch then he ought to be able to save this sweet little kid. Liam wondered what the captain was up to these days. Hopefully he was avoiding Irene, but with the captain that was hardly a smart bet to make.

“Doctor,” the woman said nervously. She was supposedly healer of some kind, but her knowledge was rudimentary at best. This was her clinic that he had been working out of for the past three weeks. Middle aged and bossy, Liam kept forgetting her name.

“Dammit woman, not now, I said!” Liam was very close to closing up the last of the boy’s wounds.

“But doctor, the Marauders are back!” She insisted fearfully.

“Then tell them to wait!” Liam snarled.

A cruel laugh answered him. “That will not be possible, I’m afraid. You see, doctor, I’ve returned with more men and we won’t be frightened away by silly tricks with flashy chemicals. I want my protection money.”

“In a minute,” Liam told the Marauders’ leader calmly. Just one more…there! Now all he had to do was close the kid up and he would be right as rain…not that the boy had ever seen rain, but that was a tangent Liam didn’t need to pursue.

A sickening thud interrupted Liam’s pleasant thoughts at having just saved a small boy’s life. The lead Marauder had slammed his long, curved knife down into the patient’s heart. “I think now would be better for me,” the Marauder said through a crooked-toothed grin.

Liam’s nostrils flared. “You shouldn’t have done that.”

“Give me my money, plus an additional twenty percent for the insults you gave me last time we met.”

What Liam gave him instead was a blast from the cauterizing laser right in his eye. The man screamed as he died and Liam dove for cover, which was limited in a small tent. Drawing his gun, Liam fired at the shins of the men he could see from under the desk he taken refuge behind. A salvo of return fire greeted him and one blast ripped into his shoulder. Laser wounds hurt like hell, but they were less messy clean than exploding bullets. If he survived, that is. Plus, anything was better than drowning.

The unmistakable, yet utterly unexpected sound of a gatling laser spinning into action and firing in quick, controlled burst replaced the sound of the Marauders’ solar powered pistols. “Captain?” Liam called out when the gunfire died down.

“Who else brings a gatling to a doctor’s office?” Captain Markov answered.

Liam climbed out from under his desk with difficulty. “What the hell are you doing here, man? Not that I mind, naturally. Your timing is as impeccable as ever, but good Lord!” The Captain stood in the entryway of the tent with his favorite preposterously large weapon slung across his torso. Tall and thin, the captain had his blonde hair cut short just like he was still a marine, but at least he had a smile on his face. Those had been rare since the war ended and rarer still after Irene had double crossed them. Again.

“I’m putting the crew back together. General Siderus needs us,” the captain told him. “You’re my first stop.”

“No Irene?” Liam asked warily.

“No Irene,” Markov assured him.

“Thank God. Where’s the healer woman? Did she survive?” Liam looked around. The patients who had been able to had fled, the others had either fainted or were screaming in terror.

“I’m here, doctor.” Hana – that was her name! Hana stood shakily.

“There are sedatives in that case, give them to the screaming ones. Here are enough credits to make sure the boy gets a proper funeral. Take care of that for me, will you? I have to leave now with my friend. If you have any sense you’ll leave too. The Marauders aren’t the only gang around, others will be keen to move into their turf.”

“What the hell were you doing on New Sahara?” Markov asked as they left the sweltering tent for the unbearable heat outside.

“Can’t bloody drown on a desert planet, now can I!”