South of the Ecliptic. Donald Ph.D. Ladew
grabbed the beams in a pressure move and began moving up the wall. He was braced in the ninety degree angle formed by the wall and the rib. Above, three thugs dropped through the open hatch to the catwalk beneath and began firing.
Piehl let fly at full stun and saw one of them go stiff and fall twitching to the grating on the catwalk. The others were crouched behind whatever cover they could find. A volley of blaster beams came his way.
Piehl felt a sharp pain start at the top of his shoulder, burn through his ship's suit down the center of his back.
Damn, I've been hit! He realized it was a chunk of molten metal where their shots had hit the frame just above.
At that moment Piehl heard a violent crash from above and saw a great chunk of the catwalk fall the sixty meters to the hanger floor. The one man left scrambled toward the hatch. He must have decided whoever was coming up meant business, and whatever he was being paid wasn't going to be enough. He should have made the decision sooner.
Piehl took careful aim and hit him just as he was reaching up for the rim of the hatch. The beam caught him in the center of the back. He levered forward spasmodically, hit the far railing, the involuntary reaction snapped him back toward the near rail. He staggered wildly for a moment and then over the edge toward the floor below. His fall was interrupted by the lateral heat exchange fin of the ship.
Damn, Piehl thought, now I can't ask who sent him.
"Major, move up to the hatch, I'll cover you."
"Aye, Captain."
The Major went up to the wall like a large gray spider, along the catwalk toward the open hatch. Piehl signaled him to wait before going up. Piehl put a full charge up through the open access. Tenn'ek went through in one smooth move. Piehl followed up the scaffolding toward the hatch. When he got there the Major peered down from the opening.
"All clear here, sir." He had a smile on his face. The first Piehl had seen since he first met him at the Outworlds Bar.
"If you would, Major, stand guard here until I can send someone up to weld this damn thing shut."
"Aye, sir."
When he got back to the hanger deck the fight in the passage was almost over. Shorty gave him a run down of the action when the Sergeant came through the access. He came to attention in front of Piehl.
"The Sergeant would like to report that the disturbance is over, sir. We have five injured, one serious. Med-Engineering is on the way. Begging the Captain's pardon you look a little banged up, sir."
"Nothing serious, Sergeant. Let's get this place cleaned up and tend to the wounded." Piehl hadn't thought about the burn since he was above. At that moment it began to hurt.
Odd. If you don't think about it, it doesn't hurt.
In the docking bay Shorty's men were sitting around talking, laughing, exaggerating.
"How many M.L. troops here?" Piehl asked.
Nearly all the men's hands went up.
"Thanks men, you did the job as usual. I owe you."
A big ruddy faced Pell-Worlder stood up, his shirt torn half off revealing a massive gray-haired chest with a long burn mark down the middle.
"You don't owe nothin' at all, General. We all have debts to you, sir. “Debt's in the Steel”. You want some heads thumped, no big deal, happy to oblige." The other men were nodding in agreement. "Besides where else could we have this much fun and not get thrown in jail?"
"Thank you, Legionnaires."
The med personnel arrived and started to work on the men. The IMP opened the ship and the Lady Lociranou came across the deck then in a rush.
"You've been hurt, Aubrey."
There was real distress in her voice. She carried a blast pistol forgotten in her hand, and had it aimed right at Piehl's forehead.
"My Lady, if you don't stop waving that thing around I'm going to get hurt a lot worse."
She looked down at her hand. "Oh, oh, I'm sorry, Captain." She tucked the blaster into the voluminous folds of her dress. She blushed prettily. Then she gathered herself up and removed a long stiletto from the robe. Piehl stood quickly and backed away holding his hands up in mock defense.
"If I have offended the lady in some way, I most humbly apologize."
She giggled. "You'd better sit down, sir, or I may decide to cut off more than that bloody shirt."
"I am your slave, your mercifulness."
There was open laughter all over the docking bay. One of the men spoke up.
"First time I've seen the General surrender without a fight."
The med man came over to work on Piehl. He could see the Lady Lociranou over the tech's shoulder as he worked. She looked worried. He held out his hand to her.
"Easy, my Lady, I'm going to be fine. Why don't you give the Princess a hand with the rest of the men."
The Princess was bearing up very well, going among the men with drinks and friendly chatter.
Flex and the Whistler came through the hatch on the run.
"Damn," Flex said, "friends throw a party you'd think they invite you." Flex looked around at the battered but cheerful men. "I'm running my shanks off all over the city and you guys are having all the fun." He went off mumbling to himself.
Piehl decided to go aboard ship and grab a couple hours sleep. He turned to men before he left.
"Thanks again, men. You've done a hell of a job here. I hope I can find some way to show my appreciation."
One of the men got to his feet. "Well, now that you mention it, sir, it's well known throughout the Legion that you were the best man with a ‘Syrinx’ in the Western Arm. Me and the boys would sure like to hear some of the old songs. We miss it and haven't heard anyone with the touch since they put you down in Valshorn."
"I'll think on it. Right now I'm going in ship. It's been an ‘interesting’ day. Maybe I could get the Whistler to sing a few of the old tunes. He had the best voice in the fleet."
"We knew, sir, but didn't know if he'd be willing."
"What about it, Mr. Ing, you want to have a sing?"
"I'd be honored to sing with the Captain, sir."
"Okay, pass the word, we'll get together before lift-off."
Chapter 6
Piehl woke from a deep sleep easily. He spent a few minutes in the fresher and trimmed his beard which hadn't had any attention in two months. He found his kit carefully cleaned and neatly stowed. The sergeant had been busy. Looking solid and tough in a clean fleet marine uniform without insignia the sergeant came in from the office cubicle.
"Will you want any particular side-arms this morning, Captain?" His voice was a cheerful growl.
Piehl was surprised at how comforting it was having the Sergeant on hand. He'd had an orderly in the Legion after his first promotion to command status. The sergeant had taken over with the ease of long experience and quickly had all the details of Piehl's life running smoothly.
Coffee with a tot of spacer's brandy in the morning, clothes, weapons and comm-sys all laid out. Before his desk had been a disorderly mess.
"A Fenwall Blaster and a Stunner in a leg strap, Sergeant. Two days and it's back into the deep. How do you feel about that?" Piehl asked.
"Good, sir. Can't say I'll be sorry to leave. I like having a destination that's more than a five minute walk."
"I agree, Sergeant. This job may be a little hairy, but by the God’s