Night Song (The Guild Wars Book 9) by Mark Wandrey (best ereader under 100 .txt) 📕

of his way and made sure the door couldn’t close again. “Move. Quickly,” he urged the squad, and his troopers poured through the door as quickly as possible. There was a bang at the prison door, making both Vergola spin in alarm.

“What do we do?” they asked Tucker.

“Try catnip,” Tucker said and slammed the door in their faces. Another trooper came up behind him with a metallic wedge they’d found somewhere and jammed it under the door, effectively blocking it, short of an explosive charge. “Get those CASPers up and running, fast!”

Out in the other room, a crashing sound announced the arrival of the Pushtal. Tucker pressed his ear against the door and listened.

“Where are the Humans?” a feline voice demanded.

“We are going to kill them!” another said excitedly.

“We already killed them,” one of the Vergola said.

“What? Why?”

“We were afraid they were going to rebel as well.”

Tucker glanced over his shoulder to confirm his men were following instructions, which they were, but he also confirmed their progress was too slow. However, he spotted a locker nearby, and opened it to find their small arms. “Grab guns,” he said to the two closest men as he found his own Ctech machine pistol and checked that the magazine was still loaded and the chamber full.

By the time he got back to the door, whatever conversation the Vergola and Pushtal had engaged in was over, as evident by the pink Vergola blood pooling under the door. Something crashed against the door, and Tucker uttered a quiet curse as he backed a meter away and leveled the gun at the door. The pounding continued.

* * *

“The Cartography Guild wants to talk again.” Ifka sat up from the console that served as her command center.

Alan grunted. “Didn’t they already agree to the terms?”

“They did.” Ifka twitched, wrinkling her muzzle. “They’re sending the Pushtal to discuss further compensation for the forces that were…” her voice reeked with enough disapproval even the translator conveyed it, but she swallowed and continued, “so poorly used through the pretenses of our disagreement.” She lashed her tail and muttered, “As though we haven’t paid enough for this nonsense.”

 “It’s still your base, Ifka.” Alan shrugged and paged through the repairs they still needed to make to the Starbright before they could leave. “Any word from the Vergola on our people?” They still hadn’t established a time for their release, as the aliens were nervous concerning the handoff.

“No, they didn’t mention it.”

Alan grunted again. He’d have to bring it up during negotiations. In the intervening time since the conflict had ended, he’d gotten in contact with his ship and the Zuul vessels Paku and Gheshu to see what they could spare before they left. If they could do enough to limp to another system, they could make further repairs before the jumps home. The credits from Ifka wouldn’t make them rich, but it was enough to make them whole, and with some to spare. He thought A’kef and I’kik would be willing to help now that the contracts were voided. At worst, he could strip their assault base for parts—as a matter of fact, he should send a message to Tucker to keep an eye out as the squad got ready to return.

Veska had volunteered to stay with Silent Night until the rest of the Humans were returned, and while Alan was more than smart enough to know that offer had as much to do with the sidelong looks she and Rex were exchanging, he still appreciated the offer. His fatherly instincts told him their brief time together had involved some sort of romantic encounter. Not knowing how that would work with Zuul, he decided to leave it for another time.

Realizing he’d been left uninterrupted long enough for his thoughts to wonder, he blinked and looked up to find Ifka staring at him.

“Do you still need something?” he asked.

“I understand you do not work for us,” she said, each word dragged out of her, “but will you and your company provide a guard for the meeting?” She twisted her tail behind her, then continued, “The Pushtal have been known to be…vehement in their requests, and I imagine you want to hear what the Vergola are trying to get for them and the Zuul anyway.”

Alan tilted his head back to examine the ceiling for a long moment, then stood and closed the documents on his slate. “Fine. We’ll charge per the hour, standard Mercenary Guild snap-contract rate. Cash. Our bill is non-negotiable.” That should provide even more incentive for the Zuparti to keep it short.

“Very well,” Ifka spat, typing furiously on her slate.

“Are you bringing them in here?”

“Pushtal, in here?” Ifka waved a hand and narrowed her eyes. “Hardly. I do not want to clean for the next week. We’ll use the bay your Silent Night has been preparing for your departure in. It is close enough to the entrance and has seats enough. This shouldn’t take long.”

“We’ll have an honor guard posted in the room, and meet you at the entrance with two mercenaries to make it look good. The rest of a squad will be armed up, just in case. Send me a message when you’re ready.” Alan stood, gave a half-bow, mostly to entertain himself, then turned sharply on his heels and marched out.

He sent a message to Bana as he walked to what had passed for a rec room for his company. It wouldn’t take much to ensure it was set up for the impending meeting, and he knew most of his people would be in there already.

His people and his children, it turned out, were so caught up in end-of-contract storytelling, no one noticed his entrance.

“—skull half blown off, and she still managed to drag him back to cover. That’s how she was contracted to the Hosh.” Veska clasped a