Mercenary's Reward (2 page)

Even as she had the thought, shame burned her, but she couldn't overcome her feelings. She tried to tell herself these were good men; they'd given up everything to fight for their people. Her inner voice was loud, though, as it pointed out that she'd given up far more, that
her
life had been more, better. She'd had a brilliant career ahead of her, a privileged life to look forward to.

I'd do anything to have my life back. Anything.

In a small sky ship above the forest, Jai kept an eye on the surface. It was almost impossible to see the ground through the trees, much less a person. The sensors were of no use; his cruising speed rendered any heat images a blur, and so many animals inhabited this forest that checking every lead was less than fruitful. This kind of hunting was far from stimulating.

It had been a rather unsatisfying war, all told. These people had fought, yes, but in such a useless way. From the air, he'd had an excellent view of their formation on the battlefield. It was not good. Sloppy attempts at strategy betrayed their inexperience and lack of preparation. Clearly it had never occurred to them they faced any danger from space. The “colonization” by the War Tribe was coming as quite a shock.

He snorted at the term. For hundreds of years the War Tribe had made no pretense of their purpose. They spread out in every direction, conquering the universe one planet at a time. In recent years, however, the agenda of their government had taken a new and unexpected turn. Before, the War Tribe had depended on the strength of its military. Now, branches of government that had no part in the military were trying to change that.

The divisiveness of their leaders was creating quite a lucrative side business for men like him, though. The booming mercenary business had made Jai a favored assassin to many prominent generals. Not that he was meant to know who hired him. Deals were made with no names or faces, but he was careful about who he worked for. His clients thought they hid their identities, shrouded by a series of intermediaries, but he made it his business to know who he was dealing with. Not because he needed justification for the work. He simply liked the control.

The military would do anything to protect its interests, and if it meant a few councilors needed to disappear, so be it. He didn't disagree with their ends—or for that matter, their means—but he did charge them handsomely for the deeds. And that money was being spent on his ambitions.

A beep from the console to his right drew his attention. Jai frowned at the information on the display. The reading for his fuel cell was way off, registering far more use than it should. Either the cell was losing power or the sensor was misreading the actual fuel level. Either way, he was in trouble.

Even if it weren't out of fuel, the craft would not run when it sensed the power was almost out. It would shut down with some power remaining to ensure the pilot could use the communication grid. A wise precaution, but one that would force him to land now, whether he was out of juice or not.

Grimly, he scanned the forested region below him for a likely place to set down. Unfortunately there were few clear areas, and most of them much too small to land safely. Characters raced across the command console, and he realized he was going to have to
create
a landing spot.

Jai began a controlled descent and leveled out just over the very tops of the trees. He turned off the rear propulsion to conserve energy and let the front ones do the work. The loss of thrust reduced his speed until he was going slowly enough to see in between the breaks of the trees to the ground beneath.

When he had reached critical speed, and any further reduction would mean a loss of altitude, he initiated manual landing and flipped down his weapons controls.

"
Minth Hai
.” It was a small prayer, but the only one a soldier knew. The first scrape of a treetop against the underbelly of the craft was loud and ominous. Jai opened fire.

Ahead a landing strip of flames appeared. The weapons system had cast a path of destruction, incinerating the forest in a runway just wide enough and hopefully just far enough to clear a place for him to land. He dropped another meter, and his view filled with fire. His craft was well used to this sort of treatment, able to traverse any planet's atmosphere at high velocity.

The fire surrounded him now, and his speed dropped as he got closer to the ground. This was a craft designed for a mostly gliding landing that relied heavily on reverse thrust. If the propulsion system shut down before he could land, it would result in a slide that could kill him. The ship was strong but not immune to that kind of abuse.

Jai heard the final warning beep before the controls went off-line. He was still going too fast and was too far off the ground. Desperation made him punch the landing sequence in, but it was too late.

Mieli heard the flying ship first, and then the horizon ignited in flames. Pandemonium ensued as the members of camp began shouting and racing about. She knew the futility of trying to tell them to calm down. There had been high tension among the men lately as those small aircrafts combed the skies searching for survivors. The distant fire was obviously a crash of some kind, not an attack, but she had learned how unreasonably suspicious these men were.

She wanted to berate herself for being unkind, but she regarded their panic with scorn. They were only soldiers, and for the most part small-minded, not able to see the bigger picture.

Moving quietly, she began to pack up her own things. The small handmade tent and her various unmatched supplies. Some dried meat and a water bag. When she was nearly finished packing her gear, Kyre approached her with his own pack in hand.

"Mieli, we need to move.” A little older than the other men, he was still younger than her. He'd become leader of their little band by default.

"It was a crash, Kyre, not an attack.” She tried to keep her exasperation out of her voice. “There's no reason to move camp. It may only draw their attention to us when or if they do come."

"We can't take the chance.” His manner was firm, and she cursed his stubbornness.

"The crash was at least two days’ walk from here. Much too far if it was in response to our presence.” She gave him her best superior look. “I will not march to your misguided drummer, Kyre."

He was angry now, but she wasn't worried. His expression reminded her of a petulant child, sure of himself like only someone who was completely wrong can be.

"We move now, Mieli. Now.” With that, he stomped off to the other men. They parted to let him pass through and then turned to follow him. She watched them trundle in line behind him like a mindless herd of
t'rams
, and Mieli set her jaw.

Their refusal to acknowledge her as the most logical choice for leadership had been a sore spot for the last four months. Mieli was well-educated and several years older than most of these boys. They were happy to let her use her medical skills to heal them, but trusting her with their lives went just that far. They'd looked to Kyre instead, a youth with only the experience of the battlefield to recommend him.

The southern horizon was still aglow with flames, and a sudden thought made her go still. Without the group to slow her down, she could walk to the crash in a day and a half. If she left now, she could be there sometime tomorrow night.

Mieli had no wish to die, but neither did she want to go on living like an animal in the woods, hunted and surviving only on the most visceral level. Life had become intolerable, and Mieli felt driven to do something reckless. If she could get there and maybe meet whoever might come after the crash, there was a chance she could change her future. A skilled doctor, and not without diplomatic skills, she might have something to offer them.

There were risks, death being the most obvious and permanent. Mieli was confident, however, she could manage whatever she found and whatever might happen. Maybe she was wrong, but she was willing to live with that possibility too.

Turning south, she began to walk.

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At first Jai was only able to feel thick, wet warmth. It was everywhere: on his arms and chest, his stomach, and down one leg. As awareness returned, the warmth faded to cold, and pain began to sing through his nerves. He couldn't move, and his eyes refused to open; he knew he was in a bad way. The pain was becoming unbearable. In a moment of clarity, he realized he was going to die.

Jai knew it with the same certainty he knew his ship had been sabotaged, and that he was not going to get out of this alive. Somewhere, somehow, he'd made a mistake. Someone he'd worked for, or against, had uncovered his identity and paid off his commander. No easy feat, and if he'd been capable of it right then, he might have envied their connections.

He slipped in and out of consciousness. Death was imminent, and as the sun set on him for the second time, he closed his eyes without hope of ever opening them again.

MIELI GASPED IN horror as she saw him for the first time. That anything should have died so terribly, friend or foe, was a grim tragedy. Her walk yesterday had been uneventful, but for most of today, she'd walked in a valley of destruction. Small fires still burned at the edges of the path the crash had formed. The end of the trail was a smoldering shape she had only just reached, and at its center was the mangled body of its pilot.

So far no sign of any other ships had come near, and she had begun to fear that they would not. Curious about what form this alien might be, she approached the dead pilot with quiet steps, angling to see his features. They were swollen, grotesque, and bloody in death. Up closer, the size of him was unbelievable. Monstrously huge, he had the same sort of shape as a man, though wounded and broken to such an extent that she couldn't be sure.

Mieli began to move away, but a sound stopped her. Horrified, she realized it was the pilot. He had uttered a moaning breath so low she'd almost missed it. He was alive but only just barely.

She settled into the debris alongside him and pulled her kit out of her pack. She had precious little in the way of supplies and no knowledge of his species, but Mieli didn't let that stop her. Being a doctor was just about the only thing she was still proud of, and if she had any thoughts about saving him for her own benefit, she acknowledged them to herself without shame.

Morning was a bleary, overcast thing, barely lighting the forest floor. The rising sun behind her, Mieli surveyed her night's work. To move the pilot from the wreckage was impossible, and after she'd cleaned and closed the worst of his wounds, she'd cleared the floor of the small craft. Her small tent had been impractical, so she'd torn the stitching apart and used it as a ceiling. No fire was possible inside, so she cooked and boiled water nearby. Crouched over the inert form of her patient, she critically eyed her handiwork.

The worst of his external injuries had been gashes across his limbs and torso. They'd not been severe enough to puncture organs, at least as far as she could tell. The loss of blood had been extensive, though, coupled with the beating he'd taken. If she was right, his body was badly battered but might heal given time. There was a strong chance there was internal damage, though she refused to consider that he would die.

As for his people, she was starting to think that if they hadn't come by now, they must not be coming at all. She didn't think they were unaware of the crash. Of course, she could see that only one soldier, in one small craft, might not be important enough to retrieve. As ruthless as they'd shown themselves to be on the battlefield, it was reasonable to assume they could be the same among their own.

Hopelessness threatened, and Mieli pushed it stubbornly away. If she could save him, nurse him back to health, there was still a chance for her to make a place for herself in this new world. Part of her felt traitorous and sick at the thoughts that whirled through her mind. All of her concern was on her own comfort and survival. Certainly, her family would be ashamed of her, thinking only of her life when she didn't even know what had become of them.

A small sound from the man at her side brought her gaze into focus. A grim line formed between her brows. Selfishness was all she had. The luxury of worrying about others and biting her nails over their fate was no longer hers to indulge in. There was only now, this moment and this opportunity. There was only her.

Outside the meager shelter, a new day had begun. Mieli lay down next to her patient, lulled into sleep by the even sound of his breathing.

JAI FELT HANDS move over him and touch softly at the painful places on his body. He'd been wounded enough to know the sounds and smells of the hospitals, but he was far too uncomfortable to be in one now. Hospitals were loud, bustling with life and energy. You couldn't feel the pain because they medicated it away. Wounds healed in just a few days instead of weeks and months of natural healing.

Wherever he was, whoever was caring for him, he was not in a hospital, not even a med-station awaiting transport. His body throbbed with pain, and he could feel the damage in a way he'd never experienced. Behind closed eyes, he reviewed the last few memories of the crash.

The force of the impact had been the worst sensation of his life. He would never forget the feeling of shock and the helplessness of it. For the first time he'd felt small, dwarfed by the power around him. Considering how strong he was, even by Tribe standards, it was a humbling feeling. One he did not care to repeat.

Among his peers, he was a force to be reckoned with. Young, yes, but quickly rising in a military system that rewarded the fiercest, the bravest, and often the cruelest warriors. He'd learned the ropes faster than most, and he climbed them with unsurpassed skill. Jai was on the way to being a commander, and everyone knew it. No one would suspect his mortality could humble him so.

Bits and pieces of his surroundings started to come through, and he turned his attention back to the pain and the soft sounds of his caretaker. After a moment of listening, he tried to open his eyes. They refused. He groaned unwillingly at the pain, and immediately heard the whisper of movement at his side.