A Matter of Honor (Privateer Tales Book 9) Read online

  A MATTER OF HONOR

  JAMIE McFARLANE

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication / use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the publisher, except by a reviewer, who may quote brief passages in a review.

  Cover Artwork: Sviatoslav Gerasymchuk

  Copyright © 2015 Jamie McFarlane

  All rights reserved.

  ISBN: 1943792054

  ISBN-13: 978-1-943792-05-4

  CONTENTS

  A MATTER OF HONOR

  CONTENTS

  RAID

  IN FOR A PENNY

  SURVIVAL

  AUDITION

  TATARA FURNACE

  IRRESISTIBLE OFFER

  GRAND VILLAGE

  DRUMS OF WAR

  MASTODON

  WARLORD

  A LINE IN THE SAND

  LIKE A BAD PENNY

  PATROL

  GIFT OF SACRIFICE

  WAR COUNCIL

  LEGACY

  LESSONS FROM THE PAST

  SEPTIC MATTERS

  SENTIENT SPECIES

  OUT OF TIME

  BRAWL

  AT THE GATES

  POINT OF NO RETURN

  ASSAULT ON YISHUV

  BURNING BRIDGES

  LAW BRINGER

  SORTIE

  BAG 'N TAG

  REBORN

  GIVE NO QUARTER - PREVIEW

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  CONTACT JAMIE

  RAID

  Planet Ophir, 1400 Light Years from Sol

  Ozzie slowed the mule, its studded wheels slipping on the loose rocks of the mountainside.

  "This isn't the way we came last time," Eliora said.

  "We're checking out a new site," Amon said from the back seat of the electric, open-air vehicle. He had to speak loudly to be heard over the clumsy clunking of the two-wheeled cart they pulled.

  "How much further? I told the watch commander we'd be back in two hours." Eliora tapped the chronometer on the dash. "We've already used forty-five minutes."

  Eliora, tall and lean, was dressed in a green and tan jumpsuit identifying her as one of Yishuv's protectors. A dark green beret covered her brown, curly hair pulled back into a ponytail. The beret shielded her eyes from the star's bright rays and allowed her to scan the hillside.

  Ozzie grinned as he caught her eye. "You know there aren't any Ophies out this far."

  Although she'd never admit it, Eliora was jealous of Ozzie's easy manner. He seemed unperturbed by the ever-present threat of the planet's native inhabitants.

  "Gian says they're on the move again and we shouldn't take anything for granted," she responded.

  "Gian this, Gian that," Ozzie muttered. "Why don't you marry the guy already?"

  Amon cleared his throat. Ozzie was close to a line he shouldn't cross. "We're about five minutes away, Eliora. Thank you for coming," he said, changing the subject.

  "I don't know why I did. He's such an ass," she said, indicating Ozzie with a tilt of her head.

  "Don't you mean adorable ass?" Ozzie asked.

  A hint of a smile crossed her normally severe face.

  The large rocks on the trail had become more numerous since they'd climbed out of the alpine forest. Ozzie slowed even further while navigating the boulder field they'd entered.

  "This is it," Amon said, pointing directly up the mountain. "This debris is part of that bigger rock slide. The good stuff is up there."

  Ozzie stopped the mule and held his hand up to shield his eyes. Indeed, a large fissure in the hillside, most likely opened decades or centuries before, continued to erode and spew rock down the mountain side.

  "Don't you think the old-timers would have already found this?" Eliora asked.

  "I asked Mom," Amon said. "She hadn't heard of anyone coming out this far for ore."

  "Good enough for me." Ozzie urged the electric vehicle ahead and turned up the mountain.

  Toward the end, his progress had slowed enough for Amon to jump out and make his way on foot. While he couldn't move faster than the mule, he could certainly take a more direct route.

  "Don't get too far ahead," Eliora warned as she pulled an ocular scope from a pouch around her neck and scanned the hillside.

  When Ozzie and Eliora finally caught up with Amon, they found him looking over a field of thick rock pillars covered in orange dust. He took a reciprocating pick from the cart and climbed over the scree.

  "What's with the color?" Ozzie asked. "Is this what you're looking for?"

  "I'll know in a few minutes," Amon said.

  Eliora picked up her crossbow and scanned the hillside like she'd been taught. As a protector, her job was to look for trouble. If it found them, she was responsible for getting her charges back safely. The Yishuv settlement couldn't lose any more residents to the war of attrition they were fighting with the Ophies. That said, they also desperately needed to gather the planet's natural resources for basic survival.

  Movement half a kilometer away caught her attention. She swung her glasses up, but it had disappeared behind the boulders. She hated to be an alarmist, but the town could hardly afford to lose an apprentice engineer or an apprentice blacksmith. Ironically, Eliora was sure they could live without a junior protector.

  The loud rattling of the reciprocating pick pierced the quiet of the mountainside and Eliora continued her visual scan, frequently swinging back to where she'd seen movement. The fact that nothing on the mountainside was moving bothered her. The reptilian critters that were everywhere on this planet should have responded to the machine's loud presence.

  She felt, rather than heard, the crash of a heavy chunk of rock Amon peeled from the face of one of the irregular pillars. As the machine spooled down and the noise abated, the relief to her ears was palpable.

  "Help me load it," Amon said.

  "What do you have?" Ozzie asked, as they used a come-along to slide the three-hundred kilogram rock onto the cart's bed.

  "Looks like hematite. Scanner says over fifty percent iron," Amon answered, strapping the rock securely to the cart.

  "That sounds high to me," Ozzie said.

  "The place is loaded with it. We need to come back with an expedition. There's more ore here than we could use in a hundred stans," Amon said.

  "So this is rust?" Ozzie asked, showing his orange stained hand.

  "Sure is."

  "Ooof," Ozzie said.

  It was a strange thing to say and Eliora turned. A thick, wooden spear protruded from the middle of his chest. The surprise on his face was replaced by coughing as he collapsed.

  "Amon, get him in the mule," Eliora yelled, trying to suppress the panic she felt.

  She pulled a shield from her back and engaged the energy-hungry protection field. It would only last for a few minutes and she prayed it would be enough. Ophies traveled in small groups and would first try to take them out with a ranged attack.

  To Amon's credit, he didn't question her command as he tossed the heavy drilling machine into the cart and scooped his lifeless friend from the ground.

  Eliora closed the distance between herself and Amon, orienting the shield
to intercept the spears. A second, third and fourth spear arced through the air and she braced herself as two impacted the shield. She lost her footing momentarily as the force of the blows drove her back into Amon.

  A strong hand grabbed the back of her jumpsuit and pulled her to her feet.

  "We've got to go, now!" she barked.

  "I'll drive," Amon jumped into the multi-wheeled mule.

  A second volley of spears flew through the air. Eliora redirected one of them, but a second hit Amon in the side.

  "How bad is it?" she asked.

  "No time," he said breathlessly. "Get in"

  Amon was right. If either of them were to survive, they had to move immediately. They were no match for an Ophie patrol. With the energy shield still operational, she climbed onto the foot-rail next to where he sat.

  "Go," she said, looping her free arm through the frame of the vehicle.

  Carefully at first, Amon turned the vehicle to head down the hill. He wasn't as skilled at navigating the rough terrain as his best friend, Ozzie, making the trip that much more difficult. Four of the bipedal reptilian native Ophies lumbered toward them with heavy clubs raised, causing him to reconsider a cautious descent. At two and a half meters tall, the Ophie's long stride looked awkward and slow, but in reality they covered ground very quickly.

  "Energy's out." Eliora pushed the shield onto her back and swung gracefully into the rear passenger compartment behind Amon. She pulled the crossbow from a holster on her thigh, snapped out the short limbs and loaded a bolt in a quick, practiced maneuver.

  The Ophie's skeletal structure was particularly thick through the chest where it covered organs and the only fatal locations for a strike were beneath the chin or in the arm pits. She would be happy to put the beasts down if only she could get a shot.

  "Faster," Eliora said. She normally appreciated Amon's metered approach, but the lizard-men were gaining, easily navigating the rough terrain, jumping from boulder to boulder, sailing meters through the air, allowing gravity to aid them in their chase.

  Amon swerved to avoid a collision, sending Eliora's shot wild. She cursed under her breath but refused to chastise him. Ophies were sprinters and wouldn't keep this pace very long. Indeed, the trailing tribesmen were already falling back.

  The lead pursuer, however, wouldn't be shaken, he'd come too close and wouldn't easily give up the chase.

  Eliora's second and third shots went wide, her normal dead-eye accuracy interrupted by the bouncing of the vehicle on uneven terrain. Gian wouldn't appreciate the loss of so many iron bolts with so little to show for it. What she wouldn't give to have him fighting beside her right now.

  Eliora tried feverishly to clear a jam, her hands trembling from adrenaline. She could all but feel her pursuer's breath and knew Amon's and her own survival depended on what she did next. The large Ophie's next jump would no doubt put it on their cart.

  At the last moment, the jam cleared and a bolt slid into the groove, the taut cable snapping into place between the crossbow's arms. In a fluid movement, she swept the bow around and lined up on the lizard-man's throat. She fired and the bolt only traveled two meters before entering below the creature's jaw and disappearing into the soft tissue of its underdeveloped brain. The warrior had been in mid-jump and momentum slammed it into Eliora.

  Amon felt the impact and jammed on the brakes. "Eliora!" The vehicle skidded sideways and came to rest against a boulder. Jumping from the mule, he pulled their motionless attacker to the ground.

  The impact of the attack had wedged her between the driver's seat and the rear passenger's bench. Amon smiled at his friend's fierce glare, still holding her crossbow with arms locked. He offered his hand and pulled her up.

  "I thought it had gotten you. I should have known better."

  Amon's eyes lit on his dead friend and a sense of loss threatened to overwhelm him. He reached for the vehicle to steady himself.

  Eliora placed her hand on top of his and spoke softly. "We need to keep going, Amon."

  He nodded and slid into the driver's seat, resuming their flight down the mountain, eventually finding the game trail that led into the forest. Eliora remained on the passenger's side, choosing to stand while holding onto the roll bar.

  Fifteen minutes from home, Eliora spied a column of smoke rising above the trees. She patted Amon's shoulder to get his attention and pointed at the plume.

  "Hurry," Eliora said.

  "Yes," he answered and accelerated.

  They arrived at the main gate of Yishuv. Hundreds of dead Ophies littered the path leading up to the ten-meter high wall. The town's gates had been pulled from their heavy hinges and now lay on the ground, a massive, braided rope still attached, leading into the forest behind them.

  Amon drove through the broken gates and stopped long enough for Eliora to jump out.

  "I'll find you when things are secure," she said.

  "Thank you, Eliora. We'd never have made it if not for you," he said.

  "That's no help for Ozzie," she said.

  "He'd be glad we lived." Amon still wasn't ready to process the loss of his friend.

  "I'll find you," she said.

  He nodded and drove toward Ozzie's home. The chaos in the streets spoke of an attack on a scale Amon had never experienced. Stacks of Ophie bodies lay at the corners of many of the streets. Amon didn't want to try to imagine how many people had died defending the settlement.

  Moshe, Ozzie's father, met Amon outside of his home.

  For citizens of Yishuv, loss wasn't a new experience and Moshe accepted Amon's news with resignation and a hug.

  "I'm sorry," Amon said quietly.

  "You're wounded, take off your shirt," Moshe said practically. "I'll get a kit."

  "It's less than it looks," Amon said, following Moshe into his small, brick home.

  "Thank you for bringing him home, Amon. You are a good friend," Moshe said. "Tell me how it happened."

  Moshe gently cleaned the gash on Amon's side. They sat on a stone bench in quiet contemplation, until Amon could bring himself to recount their trip to the man who'd been like a father to him. There was a quiet acceptance by the older man as Amon shared the last moments of Ozzie's life. Together, they chuckled as Amon relayed Ozzie's good-natured ribbing of Eliora. They spent nearly an hour remembering the enigmatic boy.

  When the conversation finally lagged, they drove Ozzie's body to the temporary morgue, where scores of dead family and friends already lay. The unofficial count put the death toll at sixty-five and it was expected to rise, as many others were near death.

  Amon arrived home well after dark. He'd sent word to his mother, Nurit, that he was helping at the morgue and that trouble had found Ozzie. Their family home doubled as the town's smithy. The heat as he walked past the shuttered forge sent a pang of guilt through him as he realized his mother had been making repairs since the attack and had needed his help.

  "Amon. I was so worried," she said as she greeted him at the front door. "You're hurt?" She looked at his torn shirt.

  "I was lucky," Amon said.

  "You won't be lucky if it becomes infected. Come into the kitchen," she said.

  He knew better than to argue with his mother. He pulled his shirt off and allowed Nurit to remove his dressing and winced as she applied lye soap before wrapping it back up. Moshe had been much gentler in his handling of the wound, but he wasn't going to say anything.

  "Do you want to talk about it?" she asked.

  "Not tonight," he said.

  "You must be hungry." It was an easy guess. Amon was always hungry.

  She slid a thick slab of bread, which she'd covered with a paste commonly called peanut butter onto a plate in front of him. The ground up legume, an indigenous plant, was a staple in every home.

  "Was that hematite in the back of the mule?" she asked, making small talk.

  "There's an entire hillside of it," he said. "I chiseled that piece off and would have loaded more, but the Ophies attacked."

>   "Rumor is Eliora should have picked up on the attack," she said.

  "Who would say that?" Amon asked, suddenly angry, spinning to look his mother in the eyes. "It's ridiculous! It happened so fast, we had no chance."

  "It's coming from her. She says she missed their approach and if she had been more vigilant, Ozzie would have lived," Nurit said matter-of-factly.

  "I'll talk to Gian. She couldn't have known they were there. Without Eliora, I'd be dead too."

  "I'm sure he'd like to hear that from you." Nurit patted his back, hoping to return a sense of calm to her son.

  "They'll need help digging graves tomorrow," he said, his shoulders slumping under her hand.

  "We'll go together."

  IN FOR A PENNY

  Planet Curie, Tipperary Star System

  A light breeze, a perfect twenty-six degrees, a rum drink with an umbrella, and the shade of a wide-leafed, tropical tree all conspired to cause my eyelids to droop precipitously.

  It felt good to relax, allowing the stress of the past few months to dissipate. We were on Curie after receiving an invitation through Admiral Tullas' office to meet with an anonymous client about a new mission. Whoever it was had even sent fifty thousand credits to cover fuel, food and lodging. It was a lot of credits to splash around, and I was doing my best to ignore the niggling feeling in the back of my mind.

  We'd been fully loaded leaving Nuage Gros, delivering goods to Curie's two moons, Irène and Ève. It had taken nearly four weeks to get to Curie and I, for one, was thinking we'd made a great decision. But then, who didn't like a little sun and sand after an adventure? Why shouldn't we have a nice payday, too?

  "Hey! Look, I'm flying!" Tabby's excited voice cut through the fog of sleep.

  I sat up in my lounge chair and scanned the waves. My AI drew a reticle around one of the wind surfers who had launched herself off the back of a breaking wave, sailing no less than seven or eight meters in the air. I marveled at her grace.

  "You're insane." I laughed, waving at her.

  I loved watching Tabby, my fiancé, do just about anything. You wouldn't know by looking at her gorgeous lithe frame, that she'd recently had major reconstructive surgery after being severely wounded in battle. No, Tabby had a new lease on life and woke every morning ready to go.