Tam froze, wondering if he was about to hear the mistress of the ring propose what amounted to sedition. The tall woman called out a few suggestions regarding the form of the men sparring nearby. The pairs she singled out redoubled their efforts, likely hoping to impress her. Then Calypso glanced at Martine. Her face in profile was lovely and stern, like a woman laser-etched from dark marble.

“That’s not why,” Martine argued.

“Yeah, you say so. But I say it’s time to break away from big groups. We could wait out the fighting, just the two of us.”

“That’s not a permanent solution. The mercs need to die, end of story.”

“I can tell you never lived through a war, my sweet. The first thing you learn is to get out of populated areas. They take the most damage in a firefight.”

From what Tam could extrapolate, Calypso wanted to leave, not stir up a rebellion, and Martine didn’t think that was a smart plan. Hiding wasn’t a bad strategy in the short term, but it didn’t resolve the core problem. With any luck, Martine could convince the mistress of the ring to stay, as the training program would suffer without her.

The tall woman turned, pinning Tam with a mordant stare. “Did you overhear anything good, little man?”

“Not for us,” he said honestly. “You’ll be missed if you go.”

“But you won’t beg me to stay or try to convince me I’m wrong?” Calypso raised a brow, her dark eyes glittering with suppressed emotion.

“That sounds unproductive. While I’ll be sorry to lose your expertise, I would never force a person to act against his or her conscience.”

“Does he ever take that stick out of his ass?” Calypso asked Martine.

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“Oh, lamb, you know I never kiss and tell.” She snapped her teeth playfully at the other woman, and the heated expression on Calypso’s face made Tam relatively sure they had been lovers at some point.

“You trust them to get us through this?” Calypso asked quietly.

Martine nodded. “I’m not the gullible sort. The outlook’s bleak, but with this lot, I reckon we’ll take out a fair number of those sodding mercs before they get us.”

Calypso straightened as if she’d come to a decision. “Then I’ll fight with you until the end.” Then she moved to instruct the men training nearby.

Tam had the awful feeling that he was holding the sword these women would die on.

* * *

“EVERYTHING all right, boss?” Redmond was a grizzled veteran with a lazy eye and a lazier nature, but he had impressive patience and a good sense of humor. Both skills often proved invaluable on extended ops.

“The guys are ready to blow this place to particle dust over Gerardo.”

The other man nodded. “I’ve heard the chatter. He was Casto’s pal.”

“Is he heading up the complaints?” Vost asked, low.

“Are you asking me to inform on my mates?” Redmond was grinning.

“Asshole.” He waited two beats before tapping his foot.

“Yeah, Casto’s talking the most shit. He says it’s your fault the scumbags got the drop on the patrol, therefore Gerardo’s death is on you.” Redmond shook his head with a scornful twist of his mouth. “If they’re too dumb to search for snipers without being expressly ordered to do so, well . . .”

Vost tended to agree, but he couldn’t side with one grunt over another. “That was a solid tactical strike. I’m guessing the shooter set up hours before our men arrived. That takes patience, plus he had to be able to predict that we’d eventually pass through. And he had some skill to make the shot at that distance.”

Redmond inclined his head. “Two hits, both in the same place. Sounds like an opponent we need to worry about.”

Vost nodded and stepped out of the command post, where his men were waiting. “Stay with me, double time,” he called.

He was glad to be out and seeing some action; monitoring the fights wouldn’t get the job done. The Conglomerate wanted the place purged with facilities and equipment intact. Mr. Suit and Tie hadn’t told him what the place would be used for going forward, but they needed the criminals out yesterday. I’ll do my best, you colossal twat.

This time, the op would go smooth as s-silk. Vost sent out a drone cam to locate the closest enemies, soft targets that would let the men burn off some of the need for revenge currently clouding their heads. If they didn’t chalk up a win, it would lower performance and morale, so he watched the crackling image on the screen until he spied a likely group of drooling, pockmarked cretins from the lower levels, at least forty of the ugliest creatures Vost had ever beheld. The beasts were united in their aim, however. For some reason, they were moving, not to attack his unit, but another territory. That decision didn’t make sense unless they took his bounty seriously, and they thought they’d wipe out the other cons before doing away with each other. If that was the case, it made him want to laugh.

“Silent run, gentlemen.”

His men nodded. They’d learned that their boots gave them away in this echoing cavern of a station, so they wrapped them swiftly to muffle the sound. Vost never led from the rear, so he took point, rifle in hand, laser pistol on his hip, and a couple of knives in sheaths on his thighs. The armor felt heavier than it used to, dragging on joints that had been injured more times than he cared to count. It was hot inside his helmet, too, and his breath smelled like the paste he’d swallowed for breakfast. He skimmed the update in green just inside his visor. EIGHTEEN DEGREES CELSIUS. NO ORGANIC LIFE WITHIN FORTY METERS. SCANNING PERIMETER.

Then the feed scrolled with new information. THIRTY-FIVE METERS, FORTY-TWO HUMAN LIFE SIGNS. WEAPONS: PRIMITIVE. THREAT: NEGLIGIBLE.

Vost didn’t need the armor to tell him that. The sound of turrets banging away told him the filthy bastards had engaged. Until now, he hadn’t realized that the cons had repurposed certain station defenses. Good to know, as that misstep would’ve cost them.

“Hit them. Stay in cover, don’t draw the automated emplacements.”

“Yes, sir.”

The team arrayed itself on either side of the corridor. When Vost peered out, he saw the animals clawing at each other, using bodies as a shield, in the attempt to breach the makeshift barricade the denizens had built. The turrets spun inward, firing toward the territory, and the ballistics tore through the scraps, sparking cries from those on the other side. You’ll have to rethink your strategy or rebuild the barrier every time from new materials. And in here, there was a definitely a dearth of resources.




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