Firebrand

The Chief moved out of cover, keeping his XMR shouldered, the only sound coming from his own heavy breathing. He switched off his HUD, moving his left hand from the forward grip of his rifle, letting it float as he reached for his belt. He primed the second chaff grenade, setting the timer for five seconds and tossing it. It bounced off the deck, sailing into the air, exploding into a cloud of shimmering particles.

He moved in as fast as his zero-G gait would allow, the shadow of the giant cannon looming over him. Murphy's voice came through on the comms, but he wasn't taunting Moralez this time. He was talking hurriedly, it sounded like he had forgotten to switch off the feed to the local channel.

"I don't care how many railguns they got trained on you, get your arse down here and pick me up! You turn yourself in now, and they'll put you in a cell for the rest of your life, you stupid cunt!"

"Sounds like your ride isn't coming," Moralez said, moving into the spreading cloud of circuitry and putting his back to a wall that jutted from the hull. It was six or seven feet tall, and maybe three times that length, some exposed cabling suggesting that it was protecting power conduits or something of the like.

"The pilot's more loyal to his own skin than to his brothers," Murphy replied, "fuckin' coward."

Moralez moved along the head-high wall, keeping his shoulder to it. Murphy had to be close, and neither of them had functioning sensors with all the chaff floating about. He had to get the drop on him, Boyd had been right when he said that the Chief probably couldn't take Murphy in a fight.

As he reached the end of the wall, an XMR barrel emerged from around the corner, Moralez wasting no time as he reached out and gripped it with a prosthetic hand. He crushed the barrel, yanking the weapon from Murphy's grip, the polymer bent and ruined as the weapon bounced off the hull and tumbled away into the void. He fired his own rifle, aiming for where he expected Murphy's head to emerge, but the operator ducked under his muzzle and sped around the corner. Steel flashed as Murphy drew his Bowie knife from the holster on his shoulder, moving faster than any unaugmented human could have, driving the serrated blade into Moralez's wrist. It penetrated the polymer housing of his prosthetic, severing the circuitry, Moralez feeling his hand go numb. He released the XMR as his fingers went limp, the weapon floating away serenely, the blade going clean through his arm and pinning it against the wall.

The gaudy skull decal rose up before him, their visors scarcely five inches apart, Murphy's other arm moving to his thigh holster with practiced speed. Time seemed to slow down as death stared Moralez in the face, his neurons firing, reflex and experience dictating his course of action. He pushed off from the hull, twisting his torso to detach his right arm at the shoulder socket, reaching for his XMH with the left. Murphy drew his weapon and brought it to bear, but Moralez gave it a swift kick as he rose towards the stars, creating enough of an opening to aim his gilded handgun.

Moralez squeezed the trigger, punching a clean hole through Murphy's visor. The back of his helmet exploded, painting the white hull behind him with crimson gore, his body going limp. As the station's rotation tugged at him, his arms seemed to wave sluggishly in the air, the magnets on his prosthetic feet keeping him locked to the hull as Moralez floated up and away.

He breathed a sigh of relief, letting his body relax as the momentum carried him. From his new vantage point, he could see Boyd leading a pack of Shock Troopers in his direction, the small figures spreading out into a line formation as they swept the hull for targets.

"Up here," Moralez said, waving at them with his remaining arm. "You missed the party, Boyd."

"Murphy?" Boyd asked.

"They'll have to scrape what's left of him off the hull."

"Are you hit, Chief?"

"I'm good. This isn't the first arm that I've lost, I'm getting used to it by now. I could use a new oxygen tank in...let's say...ninety seconds, though."

"Get back down here, and I'll hook you up."

"What happened with the Courser?" he asked, fishing for his air nozzle and angling it towards the sky. He released a puff of gas, shedding some of his momentum.

"The pilot lost his nerve when they pointed half a dozen anti-capital railguns at him. He switched his transponder on and turned straight back around."

"Did anyone else from the SWAR team survive?"

"One guy, yeah. We've got him under guard in the hangar."

"I think we should have a word with him," Moralez said, his magnets engaging as his boots touched down. Boyd arrived to meet him, turning him around roughly and patching their air supplies together, the two linked by a short length of cable. Moralez raised his wrist, unable to interact with the touch panel without his right hand, watching the low oxygen symbol turn from red to blue.

"I have to admit, I wasn't sure whose body I was gonna find out here," Boyd muttered as he guided the Chief back in the direction of the airlock. The Shock Troopers fell into a loose formation around them, no longer on alert, no doubt disappointed that they had missed the fight. "Next time, don't try to save the station all by yourself, alright?"

CHAPTER 15: CATCH PERFECT

Moralez returned to the hangar to find everyone standing around the idle dropship. Harry and the ambassador were fine, and Lorza was nearby. Blackjack was guarding a kneeling figure, the last survivor of the SWAR team, who looked decidedly less cocksure now. It was the one who Blackjack had been shaking around, he could see the tooth marks that the reptile's teeth had left in his ceramic chest piece, and his hair was matted with saliva. Two of the Shock Troopers relieved the Krell, standing to either side of the prisoner with their weapons at the ready.

"Uh...where are his arms?" Moralez asked, noting that the man was missing both of his prosthetics.

"Agent Boyd told Blackjack to disarm him, and I think he took it literally," Harry explained. "His English ain't that good. That, or he just wanted to pull his arms off because he thought it would be funny, either way."

The Krell loosed a huffing sound that resembled chuckling, Moralez cocking an eyebrow at him. The Chief made his way over to Harry and the ambassador, the Bug clinging to the Marine tightly, her four arms wrapped around one of his.

"My apologies for any undue distress that we caused you, Ambassador," he began. "It was necessary to draw Murphy and his men out in a way that we could control while there was still time. Letting you or Sergeant Hayes know about the plan in advance could have compromised the situation."

"Then...it is over?" she asked warily.

"The plot to assassinate you has been exposed," Moralez confirmed with a nod. "Everyone involved is either in custody or dead, nobody will try to harm you again while you're on my station."

"You killed Murphy?" Harry asked.

"Yeah, but it cost me an arm," Moralez said as he looked down at the ball-shaped socket that protruded from his armor at the shoulder. "Kurtz is going to chew me out..."

"I never doubted you, Chief," Harry added. "I knew you'd figure this thing out."

"Well, I couldn't have done it without the help of Agents Boyd and Lorza," he said as he gestured to them with his remaining arm. "I hate to admit it, but I've developed a new appreciation for Ninnies. It's nice to have them watching your back."

Boyd reached up to give Moralez a pat on the shoulder.

"We've always got your back, whether you know it or not. That's our job."

"Then our assignment is finally over," Lorza said. "Now, we must begin the paperwork, pizdets..."

"Yeah, we're gonna have to explain why we just had to kill most of a SWAR team," Boyd added with a grimace. "You mind if we borrow your interrogation room for a while, Chief? Our new friend over here has some explaining to do before we hand him over to be court-martialed."

"Of course, Agent," Moralez replied. "Sergeant Hayes, I trust that you and your Krell friend are still able to perform your duties? The Ambassador has a meeting to attend, assuming that she's up to it after what she just went through. I'm sure that I could give the Admiral a call and have him postpone the council meeting if she would like to settle her nerves first."

"I am ready," the Bug replied adamantly, releasing Harry's arm and straightening her gossamer skirt with her lower pair of hands. "I knew that I would face hardships on this journey. My sincerest gratitude, Security Chief. You and your men have put your lives in jeopardy for my sake on more than one occasion, it is not something that my people will soon forget. Your actions stand as proof that the resentment that some feel towards my species can be overcome, that we can find a way to coexist."

"Sir," Harry replied, giving him a quick salute. "Blackjack, get over here, you're up!"

The giant reptile rumbled affirmatively, plodding towards the shuttle and climbing up the troop ramp, the vessel's landing gear bouncing subtly under his weight.

"Good luck at the meeting, Ambassador," Moralez added. "After everything we've gone through to keep you safe, it would be a real shame if you went home empty-handed."

She gave him a demure nod, walking up the ramp with her dainty gait, Harry following behind her. The force field on the hangar door was still deactivated. The panel on the power converter was ajar, and the components inside had been blackened by the explosive, but they could raise the shutter without any danger once everyone had left the bay. He'd put in a request to have one of Miller's engineers come down and repair it as soon as he had time.

"We need to get some MPs and medics out onto the hull to recover Murphy's body and clean up the mess," Boyd suggested as he removed his helmet, "not to mention launching a couple of shuttles to go find the bodies of the other operatives that were vented into space. The last thing we need is a corpsicle hitting someone's canopy like a bug on the freeway."

"We should interview the Courser pilot too," Lorza added.

"I'll see to it," Moralez said. "Alright, let's clear the deck so the ambassador can take off. Agents, Troopers, please escort our guest to the security building. I have to make a short detour to the printing facility. It will probably take a day or two to fabricate a new arm, and I don't want to waste any time."

"Maybe you can find a replacement a little sooner," Boyd said, nudging him with his elbow. "There are a lot of spares on the market all of a sudden."

"A second-hand second hand?" Moralez asked. "Unfortunately, that's not how prosthetics work. That one guy's laser-etched tattoos were pretty cool though, maybe I'll look into that. It would give Kurtz something more engaging to do than watch a printer head move back and forth if nothing else."

"Let's get moving," Boyd said, gesturing to the door. They didn't have to skulk around in the cramped service tunnels any longer, they could just exit through the cargo door and walk along the torus. One of the Troopers gave the prisoner a nudge with the stock of his rifle, the man rising to his feet, scowling as the aliens marched him away. His problems were only just beginning, he would probably spend the next couple of weeks being grilled by a dozen different intelligence agencies before being brought before a Navy tribunal.

Moralez felt the artificial breeze on his face as he stepped out of the hangar, the familiar roar of the crowds somehow comforting after the deathly silence of space. It hadn't hit him just how close he had come to dying until now. When he had accepted the position of Chief of Security, he had expected his life to become less dangerous, but here he was risking death and dismemberment once again. Kaisha certainly wasn't going to be happy with him, he'd have to play down his encounter with Murphy a little. The story of their duel would spread, however. She would probably hear all of the gory details from Raz in short order.

"We'll see you back at the station, Sheriff," Boyd said as he set off upspin.

Moralez tried to wave goodbye, then remembered that his arm wasn't attached and that the electrical signals that his brain was sending to his implants weren't traveling any further than his shoulder. Nor could he use his wrist computer with only one hand, he'd have to find a vidphone instead if he wanted to make his calls. Grumbling under his breath, he began to wade through the crowd in search of the nearest booth.

***

"Unless anyone has anything to add, we shall proceed with the vote," Admiral Vos said. "We all know why we're here, but I'll state for the record that we're voting on whether to admit the Jarilo hive to the Coalition. Each delegation gets one vote, with a majority required to pass the motion. You may vote yes, no, or abstain if you so choose."

The delegates were all sat around the circular table in the conference room, Harry and Blackjack standing guard at the door. There was still a hole in the wall where the slug had punched through the hull. The foam had been removed, and it had been patched with a metal plate while it presumably awaited proper repairs. Besides that, the room was just as Holly remembered it, with its blue carpet and its wooden furniture.

Vos was hurrying things along, the assassination attempt and the subsequent investigation had delayed things significantly. There wasn't much left to say, Holly had already made her case, both during the first council meeting and in-person to several of the delegates. Ambassador Zuki of the Araxie and the four Valbaran Ensi hadn't pledged their support, but they had seemed willing to reconsider. Everything hinged on their votes now.

"I vote to approve the motion on behalf of the UNN," Vos said, gesturing to the Elysian delegate who was sitting to his left on a spring-loaded stool that had sunk him level with his counterparts. The gold trim on his red armor glinted as he shifted his weight, his feline face framed by a mane of rust-colored hair, his yellow eyes scrutinizing Holly warily as she sat apart from the rest.

"I vote to deny the request in the name of the Lord Patriarch of Elysia," he snarled. "We have no need of these creatures, and the risk that they present outweighs the benefits of admitting them."

Next up was Ambassador Rasheth of the Krell. Holly had found him among the strangest of the aliens when she had first arrived, his expressionless features hard to read, his size and strength intimidating. After living with Blackjack for a few days, he now seemed the most welcoming of the delegates, his fearsome appearance belying his gentle nature. He spoke in the rumbling, low-frequency language that was now so familiar to her, the bulky device on his wrist translating after a brief delay.

"My vote has not changed. My reply is yes, the Elders welcome new friends into the circle."

Ambassador Zuki of the Araxie was next, her shining, black coat catching the light beautifully. It would have been hard to tell where her velvet fur ended and her two-piece suit began if it was not for the neat, white collar that separated the two.

"I vote to admit the Jarilans," she said. Holly's antennae waved with relief as the alien's green eyes turned in her direction, the other delegates exchanging surprised glances. That was four votes out of seven already. Had she done it? Had she fulfilled her purpose? Zuki gave her a smile, then turned her attention to the Valbarans who were sat beside her.

"After much deliberation, we have reached a consensus," Netza said as she spoke on behalf of her flock. Her voice was musical, with an odd flanging effect that made it sound as though two separate voices were speaking in tandem. Her feathery headdress was presenting a shade of orange that might indicate a blend of excitement and determination if what Holly had read about the UNN's limited knowledge of their people was true. "On behalf of the Council of Ensi, we vote to approve the ambassador's request."

The Broker spoke next, what appeared to be a living machine to Holly, her antennae picking up nothing from the white metal save for the subtle scent of saltwater. It had no mouth, its tinny, synthetic voice emanating from some kind of speaker that was out of view.

"As before, the Brokers vote to support the motion. Our stance on the matter has not changed."

Vice Admiral Korbaz was the last to vote, scowling at her counterparts across the table.

"This a grave mistake," she growled, "the Coalition will reap what it sows. The will of my Matriarch is that I oppose this folly, even if my voice will go unheard. I am beginning to wonder what the Rask territory is doing providing troops and funding to an organization that is constantly treating us with unwarranted suspicion and voting us down. Is it not enough that your so-called inquiry into the Araxie's baseless claims of Rask piracy is still ongoing? Now you must falsely accuse my government of attempted assassination and unlawfully imprison our diplomats as well? When we agreed to join the Coalition, we were promised that we would have our say in its policies, but I have not found that to be the case."

"Your protest is noted, Vice Admiral," Vos replied. "I would like to extend a formal apology to you on behalf of the UNN, at least where your incarceration is concerned. Bringing in suspects for questioning is a standard part of security work, and Coalition law does allow us to hold a suspect for a period of forty-eight hours without charging them with a crime, but the circumstances of your arrest were...regrettable."

"Expect our complaint to be just as formal," the Rask said, her voice low and menacing.

"The final vote is five in favor, and two against," Vos continued. "The motion passes. From today onward, the Jarilan hive is to be made a full member of the Coalition with all of the associated rights and responsibilities. Congratulations, Ambassador," the Admiral added as he glanced over at Holly. "Now, you must fulfill your part of the bargain. You have made a great many promises to the members of this council, and we intend to hold you to them."

Holly stood and clasped her four hands neatly in front of her, bowing her head before the delegates.

"Words cannot express my gratitude, Ambassadors," she began. "This vote was about more than admitting my people to the Coalition, it was about our very survival, about validating us as sapient beings. You have afforded us the opportunity to prove our value to you, to show you that we too can contribute to the Galactic community and become a force for good. We will honor our commitments, you will not regret the decision that you have made today."

She chanced a glance at Harry, the Marine giving her a broad smile from beneath his raised visor as he stood guard by the door.

"Before we finish up, I'd like to thank the delegates once again for their patience and cooperation during the last few days," Vos said. "Any one of you could have asserted your diplomatic rights at any time in order to escape the lockdown, and you have my personal gratitude for seeing it through. Earlier today, my Security Chief apprehended those responsible for the attempt on the Jarilan Ambassador's life, and I am pleased to inform you that the situation has been resolved. I'm sure you'll all be receiving reports very soon."

"Only the guilty fear scrutiny," Elysiedde said, "it is an old Elysian adage."

"We have a similar adage," Vos replied. "Nothing to hide, nothing to fear."

The delegates left their seats, a few of them mingling as Korbaz stormed out of the room. The Rask were certainly a disagreeable people, Holly would have to keep that in mind during her future dealings with them. The Valbarans were more eager now, they wanted to discuss her proposal to aid them in their retaking of Ker'gue'la, chirping and whistling to one another as they engaged in rapid-fire exchanges in their native language.