Havoc

39 Honor Among Thieves

Dred split off with Tam and Katur. Jael didn’t like it, but he seemed to understand her reasoning. They needed to spread their strength around and clear as much ground as fast as possible. Otherwise, Queensland might never recover. The fighting went fairly well for a while. Despite her weariness, it was no trouble to kill cannibals or Silence’s killers when they stumbled on them. The room they stepped into next, however, held three mercs, all fully armored, geared up with heavy weapons.

She froze.

The distance between her and the merc group was such that she could get away, but she was less sure about her companions. Tam and Katur stood at her back and neither of them wore armor. If the mercs opened fire, she’d survive, most likely. The other two would not. Slowly, she lowered her weapon.

“Why don’t we settle our grievance, Perdition-style?”

“What did you have in mind?” Vost asked, flipping up his visor so she could see his face . . . and he could read hers, human instincts replacing technical assessments. She’d heard Vost’s voice crackling through the old emergency announcement system now and then, but in all of their encounters, she’d never seen his face. He was older than she’d expected, square iron jaw and lines about his eyes, black-and-silver hair shorn down close to his skull. Old bruises dotted his face in various hues from blue to green; cuts had scabbed over on his left cheekbone. He had hazel eyes with crow’s-feet radiating outward; they spoke of long turns squinting into the sun, not smiles or laughter.

She didn’t like realizing that she was looking into the eyes of a decent man. “Grudge match. Usually, it’s to the death.”

“It’s smarter for me to kill you all.” His men raised their weapons.

“You could try. The rest of my people will likely be here at any moment, and there’s so few of you, unless you’re hiding the rest. Wonder how many mercs went boom . . . I suspect it was all of them but you three.”

A flicker in his eyes told her she was right. Dred repressed a smirk. This wasn’t the time to muck up the negotiations by being an asshole. The fact that he was talking instead of shooting told her he might be amenable to an alliance if she gave him the right opening and an opportunity to save face.

He wore a hard look. “The fact is, those men made their choices.”

Her eyes widened as she realized what happened. “They betrayed you. They were stealing the ship, stranding you here. That must really piss you off.”

“Nothing I can do about it now.”

“It’s smarter to face me than deal with everyone in Queensland. You can trust me to keep our agreement. The rest? Not so much.”

He hesitated, glancing at his surviving men as if trying to take a quick census. “If I accept, I set the terms.”

“I’m listening.”

“If I win, you grant us clemency for past offenses.”

That sounded dangerously reasonable. “And if I do?”

“You can kill me, if you promise not to harm my men.”

“Boss, no.”

But Vost held up a hand, eyes steady on hers.

Dammit. His actions sprang from a desire to protect the soldiers loyal to him. Vost had to know he was in a tenuous, disastrous position, stuck on a station where the natives hated and wanted him dead. Yet he was trying to buy his men a better position with the currency of his own life.

“As long as they’re willing to take orders from me, they can fight for Queensland. But the penalty for disloyalty is high here. Infractions start with flogging, continue to castration, and end in death.”

“Iron fist,” one of the mercs muttered.

She ignored him. “Well, Vost? It’s a limited-time offer. I hear others approaching.”

“Yes. Bring it, Dresdemona.”

It had been a long time since anyone called her by her full name. Probably the last time she’d heard it, her mother had been aggravated with her about something. Likely, his knowledge was meant to rattle her and put her off her game. But she had been looking forward to this moment since he arrived on station, talking about how he controlled the facility. Wrong, you bastard. This is my house.

“Armor off.”

His men started to protest, but he waved them away, and there was an oddly ritual air as they stripped the plated segments and piled them nearby. He was strong and fit, better built and nourished than most of the men in Perdition.

This won’t be easy.

Ordinarily, there would be a bigger audience, Calypso holding court in the circle, but this would have to do. She felt a twinge of guilt over the fact that he was offering his life as a bargaining chip, but it wasn’t enough to stop her from raising her chains in challenge. One end wrapped around her wrist with a length hanging loose between her hands, and the other tail sat in her palm, waiting for her to flick it outward. The comforting weight of the blade in her boot reminded her that she could repeat the tactic that took down Grigor, if necessary.

Vost pulled two knives with long, wickedly serrated blades, superior to any shiv crafted in here. By the gleam of the metal, they looked like durasteel. I’ll have to be fast. She wasn’t afraid of pain, and unless he opened a major artery, she should be able to heal any incidental injuries. Good thing he doesn’t know that. It felt like cheating, but her hidden resilience meant she’d finally get to kill him.

Dred smiled. “Call it, Tam.”

“Before these witnesses, the terms are set and the battle is joined. Begin!”

She lashed out, but he was faster than he looked. Vost ducked, whirling, and came in with his blades. Dred leapt to avoid the slash at her knees. While that strike might not kill her, it would’ve crippled her. She snapped her teeth at him as she danced back a few steps to give herself more room to work the chains. His mercs called out encouragement, whereas Tam and Katur were silent. Remembering the friends Vost had killed added to her resolve, and she already had strength and speed from Jael. Dred whipped the chain at his head, but somehow, she missed him again. She cocked her head, puzzled, because with any other man, she would’ve already knocked him down, at least once. He was quicker than he should have been.

“Should I have told you? I’m augmented,” he said, as they circled.

Behind her, Tam drew in a breath, which told Dred that he knew the answer. “What does that mean?”

“Fortified bones, reinforced joints. I’ve had supplements to my reflexes as well.”

“I didn’t even know they were doing that.”

“They’ll do anything for sufficient credits,” Tam muttered.

She didn’t let the merc disrupt her focus though she gave him credit for trying. “So you’ll be a little tougher to kill than anticipated. I’m not afraid of hard work.”

“Not according to your dossier. I’ve been curious, though. Did they tally up your body count? I’ve always thought it seemed low.”

She slashed a chain toward him, but he was already sliding to the side, and it slammed into the wall behind him in a cascade of sparks. “Sorry, not telling. I have my secrets.”

If I can’t fight him the normal way, then I need to shift my attack strategy.

“You can trust me.”

Dred laughed at that. “The only person on station I trust less than you is Mungo.”

“That’s the one who eats people?”

“Then you understand your place in the hierarchy.”

“That’s harsh. The crazy one with the bone chair doesn’t seem as if she could be relied upon in a crisis.”

The conversation made it hard for her to focus on killing, doubtless what he intended. He had been circling, watching her defenses, and soon he’d go on the offense. Since this fight could not end in clemency, she had to figure out how to take Vost out.

“He drops his shoulder when he’s considering a strike,” Tam said softly.

“Unfair,” Vost chided.

She smirked. “It’s not interference. It’s an insight.”

“Thanks for the tip.” Vost etched a mocking salute at Tam, and then he slashed toward her, each knife slicing the air until she swore it made a sound.

She whipped her chains around as a defensive measure; it would take someone stronger and faster to get inside her defenses when she was braced for a strike. A lesser opponent would already be bleeding from half a dozen cuts. If I used blades instead of chains, I don’t think I could keep him at bay. She feinted a blow, and he dodged, allowing her to land the true snap at his ankle. He flinched when metal slammed into bone, but he was tough enough to shake off the pain. The strike left her off-balance, and he slashed a cut down her left arm. Hot blood trickled from the wound, slicking the metal length of the chain.

“That looks painful.”

She snarled a smile. “How’s your leg holding up?”

One of the mercs said softly, “They’re pretty evenly matched. Should I shoot her?”

Tam leveled a look on them, and even Dred found his expression chilling. “If you break the terms of the truce before the match is concluded, you will find hell to be a comfort after what I do to you.”

“Stand down,” Vost said.

An idea struck Dred, and she changed up her tactics. In a move almost too fast to track, she drew the blade from her boot and whipped it at him. Vost spun to the side, but not quite fast enough; it sliced a path down his side as it went by, and his distraction allowed her to land a hit with the chain. She put her full strength behind it, and something in his chest cracked. Ribs, most likely.

“Nice,” Vost said, spitting blood. “But how many more knives do you have?”

“I guess you’ll find out.”

But the noises she’d heard a long way off—not a bluff, just enhanced senses—were coming closer. Soon, her people surrounded them, and rifles fixed on the three mercs. The rest of Queensland might not understand, but this was a matter of honor. She’d struck a bargain, so this needed to play out without interference. She glanced around for Jael, but he was focused on her bleeding arm, not listening to her words.

“Stop,” she yelled. “Let the fight continue!”

But others were yelling, “Kill the mercs, gut them! Let’s finish this!”

Dred tried again. “Queenslanders, this is an official grudge match. Doesn’t matter if Calypso’s here. The agreement is made, and battle has been joined.”

The shouting increased in intensity, drowning her out. Maddened men shoved toward the mercs, screaming bloody murder, and it was a testament to their courage that they didn’t cut and run. Instead, they looked to their commander, asking silently, Stand or fall back?

A third and final time, Dred tried to leash her people, but they wouldn’t listen. In another second, the walls would be painted in blood, and her word would be dust. She made a split-second decision. Her eyes met Vost’s. Run, she mouthed.

Unable to believe she was doing this, Dred turned and deliberately blocked the path with her body, so the mercs could escape, the only way to keep her promise.