A much leaner and well-toned Brenda pressed herself into the grass as sensor information was fed into her eye.
He was close.
He had given her the slip six tis…
Six!
That was a record. Six missed kills. It was no longer professional...
It was personal! She never missed!
And now, she had… Six tis!
Today, it would end.
That fucker was going down!
She winced as she opened a small case and started to silently assemble a slender weapon… A weapon! That is what she had been reduced to, crawling in the mud with a fucking energy weapon…
Every trap had failed. Every snare… evaded…
A “cockroach” transmitted a brief signal. It had caught the scent!
She smiled and interfaced with her weapon. Its (ugh) targeting reticle appeared in her vision.
Her roach sent another signal… Movent!
She zood in on a small stone outcrop as he poked his head cautiously around a small crack. He knew he was being hunted.
Slowly he started to creep into the open, nervously looking all around.
She smiled.
I got you, you little shit... she thought as she pulled the trigger.
The weapon vibrated slightly but made absolutely no sound as her target spasd once and then collapsed motionless upon the stones.
She smiled as she lept to her feet and started to sprint. Seconds later she was standing over him.
Everyone falls in the end… everyone.
She pulled out her scanner to confirm the hit.
“Plestiodon fasciatus…” she giggled. “You, my friend, are officially unextinctified!”
The lizard was already starting to wiggle a little. Wasting no ti she pulled out her knife and lopped off a few milliters of his bright blue tail and, using tweezers, quickly put it into a sample vial.
Seconds later the lizard blinked, flipped over, and darted back into the rocks.
She stood there admiring her prize. This little snippet was going to keep her in beer and chocolate for months!
***
The next day Brenda threw one hell of a party at a nearby lodge. Gene-prospectors ca from hundreds of miles away to admire the footage and fill up on free food and booze.
“Keep them coming, Harry!” Brenda exclaid as another group wandered in.
“I still can’t believe it, Brenda,” a grizzled old woodsman said shaking his head. “A lizard-zapper… Never seen that one before.”
“Yeah,” Brenda said as she took a big gulp of beer. “Rub it in...”
“What you an?” the old man asked. “You hit a fucking skink at thirty yards.”
“Yeah, but I still had to use a fucking gun, slippery little bastard.”
“What’s your deal with guns?” the old man asked. “It’s damn near unpatriotic!”
“Noisy, ssy, and totally lacking in imagination,” Brenda scoffed. “Where is the creativity? Where is the fun?”
“You’re an odd one, Brenda,” the man chuckled, shaking his head. “Damn good prospector, but fucking weird!”
“This from a man who has a poop collection?” Brenda laughed.
“Hey! Do you know how many samples I’ve gotten from shit? You kids and your fancy degrees and high-dollar scanners and you literally walk past a fucking gold-mine holding your delicate little noses all the while. I’ve gotten twenty varieties of edible plants all from scat.”
“Really?!?”
“Yup. You should take ti to stop and ‘sll the roses’ every now and then.”
“Gross, dude,” Brenda laughed.
“H-hi Brenda!” Jason said as he rushed up.
The old man grinned and got up to leave ignoring Brenda’s pleading glance with a wicked little smile.
“C-congratulations!” Jason exclaid as he sat down next to her. “A skink! That’s amazing! I had no idea they were so beautiful!”
Brenda just sighed. Jason had been “tracking” her ever since she decided to take up gene-prospecting as her latest cover. (She had really enjoyed camping during her last job.)
“Um… Thanks,” Brenda replied, a little flustered. Jason was cute, exactly her type, and super nice.
And that was the problem. Sooner or later, maybe next year, maybe tomorrow, she would disappear, suddenly, without a trace, and forever. He didn’t deserve that.
Neither did she.
You could always ‘retire’, that little voice piped up in her head. She could. Lord knows she had the cash, millions of credits.
But she didn’t keep at it for the money. I an, that last job… The fucking head of Federation Intelligence!… What a rush! No, there was no retiring for her, at least not yet.
For example, there was Patricia Hu to consider. She normally didn’t do “bounties”. She felt them to be beneath her but Holy Jesus on a Popsicle stick! That was a lot of money…
But how would you even do it? She has to be off world, hiding in one of her bases, surrounded by her people…
How would you even begin to track her?
She felt her pulse rising.
Then you would have to get in, grab her, alive no less, and get her out. I an, yeah, you could kill her, but oh the challenge…
It would be a little “shady” since she was her last client but she wouldn’t have to kill that many people to ‘bury’ that little detail and nobody would fault soone going after such a big score…
Would they?
Sothing touched her arm. Her hand instinctively slid into her pocket as she exhaled slowly taking care not to swivel her head overmuch.
It was just Jason.
He was still talking.
“Can I see the rifle?”
“What?” Brenda asked as she let the adrenaline wash away and her hand left her pocket.
“The rifle you used on that skink. Can I see it?”
“It isn’t a rifle,” Brenda replied. “A rifle is a projectile weapon that imparts a spin on the… Nevermind,” she smiled. “Sure. You can see the weapon, but don’t call it a rifle. It hurts .”
“O-okay!” Jason said excitedly.
The pair headed towards the exit.
“Keep everybody full and get them drunk!” Brenda yelled over her shoulder. “I’ll be right back.”
Harry just grinned and gave Jason a little thumbs up.
Brenda pretended not to notice. The only thing Jason was getting a peek of was her lizard-zapper.
It wouldn’t hurt to have a little fun, that voice said.
Yes, it would, she replied to herself.
***
As Brenda and Jason stepped outside Brenda ca to an abrupt stop.
Outside, at the edge of the parking lot, was a luxury grav-sedan, a nice one.
One of these things is not like the others... she sang in her head as she took a quick glance at the hover-trucks and RV’s.
She threw a quick “eye” over it as her hand slipped into her pocket and grasped four large bright yellow marbles, each one bearing a cheerful smiley-face.
Armor… shields… cloaking…
Fuck.
“Wait inside,” she said to Jason.
“Is sothing wro-”
“I said wait inside,” Brenda hissed, her mask slipping.
“I’ll… I’ll wait… inside...” He said quietly as he opened the door.
“Probably just a silly ex who doesn’t know what’s good for him,” she added with a winso smile. “I’ll be right back.”
“O… Okay...”
Jason went back inside with chills running up and down his spine.
“Now who might you be?” Brenda asked cheerfully as she walked towards the limo, marbles in hand.
As she approached, the cloak switched off revealing one occupant, no other life signs.
The rear passenger window retracted…
And she burst out into a goofy grin.
“Markie!” she shouted with a cheerful wave, still holding the marbles in her off hand.
Marcus Delacroix carefully kept his eyes forward and his hands where she could see them. Approaching Brenda unannounced was a very, very good way to wind up dead.
He noticed a flash of yellow in the corner of his eye and wondered what other cheerfully colored toys were in the area.
When she was about fifteen ters away he slowly turned his head to face her.
“I’m leaving the vehicle,” he said in a cultured Imperial accent.
“Don’t.” Brenda said in a light cheerful tone.
She’s pissed… and completely unconcerned about this floating tank...
He carefully inhaled and slowly exhaled and consciously lowered his pulse. He had a reputation to maintain and it wouldn’t do if he looked as… “concerned”… as he actually was.
“It’s great to see you Markie!” Brenda enthused as she stopped a ter from the side of his ride, “What a completely unexpected surprise.”
“Likewise,” Marcus replied. “I must say that you look especially lovely this ti. The blonde hair suits you.”
“You like?” Brenda said with a goofy smile. “Not over the top?”
“Absolutely not! You look ravishing!”
“Flattery will not save your life if you don’t start talking… Now...” Brenda said in a sweet voice. “What the fuck are you doing here, Marcus?”
“I have a client who wishes to speak with you.”
“So why didn’t you use a dead-drop… Markie?” she hissed, her eyes blazing.
“Because you aren’t answering them, Brenda.” Marcus said in an annoyed voice as he t her gaze. Ohhhh she’s Pissssedddd…. Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck…
“And that should tell you what?” she asked in a rather pointed tone.
“I would normally respect your desire for so down-ti but this is an extraordinary situation.”
“It better be,” Brenda smiled. “It better be extraordinary enough for to overlook that there exists a person who can find when I don’t feel like being found. I don’t like that which ans I don’t like you.”
“At least hear them out before you unleash the… marbles?”
“I like marbles. They’re fun, especially these,” Brenda said with absolutely no expression. “You have ten seconds before you find out exactly how much fun they are,” she said, Marcus already turning into a fine red mist in her mind’s eye.
“One billion credit retainer,” Marcus said calmly. “Guaranteed one-hundred million credits a head after the first ten, if it cos to that. I would appreciate it if you at least talk to them before dispatching .”
"Ruin my vacation? Want to talk to your client? One million. Now.”
“(sigh)… Fine,” Marcus grumbled. “Can I reach for a transactor?”
“Do it slowly,” she smiled as she opened her hand and all the marbles turned to face him.
***
A million credits richer, Brenda slid into Marcus's limo.
“Oooo!” she said happily. “This is nice!”
“I’m glad you approve,” Marcus said never taking his eyes off of the four little faces staring at him.
How can marbles look suspicious? he thought.
“Fucking stupid, but nice!”
“Excuse ?”
“High dollar ride in this neck of the woods?” Brenda said in a scolding tone. “Shoulda rolled up in a camper or sothing.”
“I couldn’t find an armored camper on short notice,” Marcus replied.
“Really?” Brenda asked. “Call next ti. I know a guy.”
“If I could have called you I wouldn’t have… Nevermind,” he said as he slowly and very carefully moved his hands to activate a holo-screen.
“I’ll give you so privacy,” he said as he carefully reached for the door.
“Nuh-huh!” Brenda said cheerfully. “You keep your ass right here where my little buddies can keep an eye on you. I trust you but those little guys don’t like weebs very much. You give them a loving ho, try to raise them right, and they still turn out to be little racist shits. It breaks my heart. It really does.”
“Very well,” Marcus said in an amused tone as he activated the limo’s encrypted transmitter.
A minute later Brenda sighed in exasperation.
“That million credits wasn’t for all fucking day, you know.”
“Patience, please, my client is very busy.”
“So was I,” Brenda scoffed. “Those beers ain’t gonna drink themselves.”
Much to Marcus's discomfort, Brenda started humming to herself as she started making the marbles play leapfrog, and balance on each other’s heads as she waited.
An eternity later Jessica Morgan’s face appeared.
“Well fuck running!” Brenda exclaid. “Hi Jessica!” she exclaid as she waved happily.
She snapped her fingers and the marbles jumped into her pocket, much to Marcus's relief.
“Brenda!” Jessica replied. “Love the hair!”
***
Roberts had fled the cabin and taken shelter at one of the bars in the cruise ship they were taking to their refuge in the Empire.
When Helena was writing she could be testy on a good day. These days? Hoo Boy! The latest news that Daemon managed to snatch from whatever that “chatroom” was had Helena foaming at the mouth.
As well it should, over fifty thousand dead in the capital alone. Jesus. Porkies weren’t Roberts’s favorite people, not by a long shot but still…
That was pretty bad. The fact that Jessica exacted a pretty terrible revenge did little to placate Helena either. If anything, it made her even more enraged.
Nope. He was sitting right here until it was ti for dinner.
***
Helena was typing up a storm when the intercom pinged.
It was the captain. What the hell?
“Excuse , Ms. Sterling?” he said in a polite tone.
“Yes?” she asked wondering exactly what the fuck she had done. They had been behaving themselves the whole ti… mostly…
“You have an, ahem, priority communication from the Federation.”
“Wha?” Helena wittily replied.
“Yes, they are waiting for you.”
“Well, okay,” Helena said, more than a little confused, “Put them through.” She felt a mont of panic. Had sothing happened on Zaran? Oh God! Had her parents been infected, or worse?
“Ah… It’s not sothing we can route to your cabin, I’m afraid. Please co to the communications center, we have a private lounge there.”
What the fuck?
“Ok, I’m on my way.”
“What’s that all about?” Daemon asked as the communication ended.
“I have no fucking clue,” Helena responded as she headed towards the door.
***
“Oh you gotta be fucking kidding !” she exclaid as the holo-screen in the private lounge switched on.
“I wasn’t prepared to jest,” Jessica said with a little chuckle. “Have you heard the one about the two nuns and the eggplant?”
“What the hell do you want?” Helena replied caustically.
“Well first of all I wanted to say that I’m quite the admirer of your work,” Jessica said with a pleasant smile.
“Oh I’m sure,” Helena said rolling her eyes.
How the fuck does she know we are on this ship? Helena suddenly thought in alarm. That wasn’t good. That was really not good.
“That piece you did on Gwendolyn Shay? Marvelous! She was screaming for your blood for weeks! And don’t even get started on your expose’ on hidden monopolies and price fixing! God! That one stung! Do you have any idea how hard that one hit? Cost millions!”
“Glad to be of service,” Helena said in a snarky tone.
“Oh! And the one about corruption in the counsel and the reconstruction contracts? How did you ever find out?” Jessica asked with admiration.
“Wouldn’t you like to know.”
“Actually, I would,” Jessica laughed. “If you only knew how much trouble that one caused! I was looking down the barrel of an actual indictnt! Good thing I know where the bodies are buried. Not literal ones, of course.”
“Of course,” Helena said rolling her eyes.
“I do want to set the record straight on one thing,” Jessica laughed. “I have NEVER slept with Cyrus Red! Ever! That man repulsed . I’m glad he’s dead.”
“Is Cyrus Red dead?” Helena asked leaning forward, feigning surprise. Paul had already told her everything, but if she could get a statent from Jessica Morgan herself...
“Oh absolutely,” Jessica said with a smile. “He pissed off the wrong person, or, if we are being precise, the wrong fish.”
“Who killed him?” Helena asked discreetly reaching for her phone.
“Axlea, director of Federation Intelligence,” Jessica said quickly before she could get the recorder switched on.
“Seriously?”
“I would say to ask her yourself but, even with your considerable skill, that’s almost impossible.”
“Almost?!?”
“Sorry,” Jessica smiled as Helena finally managed to switch on her recorder, “I misspoke. Impossible… Definitely impossible...” Jessica said with a wolfish grin.
“Hmm...” Helena said looking at her suspiciously. “Why the fuck are we talking?”
“Because, my intrepid reporter,” Jessica said with a warm smile. “I want to offer you access.”
“You’re joking!”
“Most certainly not,” Jessica replied. “I like having the best and you have definitely proven yourself to be among them. Relentless, fearless, and most importantly, effective, all things that I admire. You are definitely a valuable resource, one that I would be foolish to ignore, not that ignoring you is easy, mind you,” she added with a rueful laugh. “I would like you to join .”
“There is absolutely no way in hell that I would ever co to work for you!”
“And I wouldn’t expect you to,” Jessica replied with a smile. “I just want you to embed yourself with the Forsaken. I offer complete access, total freedom of movent, and absolutely no interference or censorship. I just want you to co over here and do what you do best.”
“Be a pain in your ass?”
“Report the truth,” Jessica said emphatically, “as you see it, both the good and the bad, no punches pulled, no stone unturned. Just do your thing.”
“Why?!?”
“Propaganda I have,” Jessica replied. “I have an entire cruise ship filled with artists, writers, musicians, video producers, marketing teams… I’m sure you have seen their work?”
“Yeah,” Helena said sourly, “I have.”
“And it reeked of bullshit, because propaganda is by definition just that,” Jessica smiled, “You know it. I know it, and, most importantly, so do a LOT of other people. Right now it’s a bullshit contest. My bullshit artists against the Federation’s.”
Jessica leaned forward and grinned a wicked smile.
“So I want to do what I do best,” she chuckled, “Cheat. There is one thing that the Federation is definitely NOT expecting, the truth, the pure unadulterated unvarnished bloody ugly hard stuff. The truth is a weapon that hits as hard as a sabergun and as far as the monsters and fiends of this galaxy are concerned, myself included, there is little more that we fear than a light shining under our particular rock. I want to bring the truth, the real honest to God truth, into the mix. Lay it all out there, for the whole galaxy to see, both the good and the bad. History is being written and I think it would be very interesting for it to be penned by an actual unbiased observer for once.”
“Bullshit.”
“I can assure that I am completely serious,” Jessica replied. “I want the truth of this whole ss laid bare and put out there for everyone in the galaxy, Imperial, Terran, and Fed to see. Let them see what you uncover and let them make their own decisions. Let’s see the Federation spin doctors handle that!”
“And your spin doctors?”
“They will do what they are hired to do,” Jessica said, “They will twist the truth and spin it and weave bullshit into gold, exactly as I demand. However, they will be at least a little constrained since they will have my royal bard up their ass, at least I hope that they will. They also have the advantage that we honestly are on the right side of this.”
“Are you?” Helena asked. “I’m not so sure.”
“Well, I’m inviting you to find out for yourself,” Jessica replied with a smile. “Go wherever you want. Talk to whoever you want. Dig. Find the dirt.”
“And I’m sure you will just let print it when I do.”
“Absolutely,” Jessica replied. “With one little restriction. We are at war. I am unwilling to allow you to compromise active operations. It’s the sa with any war correspondent. Other than that, you have a completely free hand and anything that is deed to be operationally sensitive will be yours to publish the mont that it is no longer so. Let history judge fairly.”
“And how do I know this isn’t a trap? What’s keeping you from tossing my ass out of an airlock the second I drop by?”
“And prove that every single thing you have ever written about is true?” Jessica scoffed, “Please. People who kill the press are fucking idiots. Why the hell do you think an assassin hasn’t already co calling?” Jessica asked. “Because I told all of my less enlightened comrades to keep their fucking hands off, that’s why. You ignore the press. You discredit the press. You don’t kill them. That’s just plain stupid. I’m a lot of things, Helena, as you will have the opportunity to find out. I’m a whole lot of things, but I’m not stupid.”
“So a ‘tragic accident’ happens then?”
“Those have a nasty way of coming back to bite you in the ass,” Jessica replied. “If anyone knows that things won’t turn out the way they definitely should it’s ,” she said ruefully. “Besides, you have a guardian angel.”
“I do?”
“Sheila motherfucking Donovan!” Jessica exclaid. “If there is ONE person I do not want to add to my list of troubles it’s that bitch! No thank you! I fuck you over and I have her to deal with and I don’t want that. She took the White Star with no casualties, except for one ding-a-ling who refused to wear their armor, and she’s perpetrated the biggest security breach in Federation history only then go and break her own record? That’s one big pile of ‘nope’ if I’ve ever seen one. I’m in no hurry to tangle with that.”
Helena angled her recorder towards the screen.
“Is that why you haven’t sought revenge for your grandson, Councilor Morgan?”
“Shit, why did you have to remind ?” Jessica groaned. “I gotta address that. I an she did save the trouble but-”
“Saved you the trouble?!?”
“Oh yeah,” Jessica replied, “You think he was just hiding from the Feds on that ship? He was going to cut a deal where he was going to reveal… well… a whole bunch of things that no longer matter, actually.”
“You were going to have your own grandson killed?”
“I guess you would need to interview to find out wouldn’t you?” Jessica smiled. “If you agree to hang out with us I promise I’ll give you the story, along with a whole bunch of others. I an, a lot of it no longer applies. I’ve killed half a million and counting! I am no longer concerned with a lot of shit and the other people involved are either dead, dying, or in the process of committing cris that make all that old stuff pale in comparison. Hell. I’m willing to bet a lot of my ‘confederates’ would just love to brag about most of it.”
Jessica leaned back and spread her arms wide.
“So, whadda you say? Feel like enjoying so bardic immunity?”
***
Helena staggered into the bar where Roberts was enjoying a gin and tonic.
He looked up at her as she stumbled in.
She looked rough.
“You ok?”
“Paul,” Helena said with a confused and troubled look in her eyes. “I just think I made a deal with the Devil...”
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