Chapter 6

Sean hated this.

He looked at the ring on his finger. It was silver, the image of a dove engraved into the top. A dove of peace ... the symbol of The Guard.

Military life, even more than life in general, is full of irony and related unintended humor. Their official title was "Homeland Peace Guard", and whatever the original intent of their creation, their dove was now a symbol of hate and inhumanity throughout the system. Naturally, never having seen a real dove, for all Sean knew they were the assholes of the bird kingdom to begin with.

Why did he even still have this ring?

... well, to be honest, for cases like this. His eyes wandered around the bar. It wasn't crowded, this early in the afternoon, and as yet there was no sign of the contact.Sean had ditched the uniform already, naturally. He understood why Don had made him wear the thing to that theatrical production that morning, as intimidating local officials was a time honored use of The Guard, but once the shops were open he bought a few more respectable outfits. One single Guard walking the streets, anywhere, was liable to be a dead man. Oh, he'd take a dozen or two with him, but nowadays that wouldn't frighten enough civilians away (if civilians actually existed, and he had his doubts now). He had needed new clothes anyway. Practical ones, for both fighting and leisure. Not surprisingly, they had designer lines just for that. He had even seen outfits for the upwardly mobile mercenary. Nice, actually, and just the thing to let others know who the dead men walking were.

But, the ring. The saying was The Guard never abandoned its own. This was a promise, and a threat. Once you were in, there was no leaving. You could run, as he had, but in some ways you were still theirs. They had a part of your soul. If there was a "benefit", to being a former Guard, it was that you now belonged to a group just as committed to protecting its own as those still in the service. Sean would now see exactly what that meant.

Still nobody around matching who he was expecting.

Sean looked over at his table mate. Shelly was nursing a drink, bored. He had asked her to come for a number of reasons, despite the fact he really didn't care for her. She was too flighty, for his taste, tending to swiftly swing between care free slut and revenge filled bitch. The latter he respected a bit, but it wasn't enough to outweigh the former. On top of that, naturally, she was nowhere near his type. However, this kind of job wasn't one you wanted to do alone. Apart from the usual buddy system aspect, having a woman at his table kept others from bothering him.

He let out a sigh. The guy better show up soon, though, as in another ten minutes Shelly was likely to start trying to find a guy to fuck. She was already casing the prospects out. Personally, he didn't see anything worthwhile.

A somewhat rough middle aged man, with the bearing of a soldier, came down the steps and had a word with the bar maid. Sean took another sip of his ale. As the newcomer made his way over to their table, Sean moved to get Shelly's attention. She had already noticed, shifting into business mode. Her eyes hardened.

He wasn't that scruffy, Sean saw, now that the stranger was sitting across from them. He had a few days worth of beard, but his hair was well kept and cut short. He wore workman overalls, obviously just off a job. The busty waitress placed a large beer in front of him, and as he lifted it, the slightly tarnished ring on his finger slid into view. Putting the mug down, he saw Sean's, nodding while giving the boy an appraising look. He also spared a glance for Shelly, but seemed to dismiss her. The eyes lingered, though, on her assets.

"I've been told you're looking for assistance." He didn't give a name. Sean nodded.

"We're with a group that has a ship. We're looking for ... business opportunities of certain types, or at the very least information. We'd rather not annoy or ally with the Rebs or Feds at the moment, or get in the Guard's way."

The man cocked his head, considering. He also took another look at Shelly, cleavage nicely on display. The look she returned was neutral. He nodded slightly. Sean thought he saw the lack of flirting as working in their favor. The stranger rubbed his chin.

"What are your restrictions?"

"I won't patronize you by pretending we have morals," Sean said, smiling slightly. "However, we do have ... interests, and people we wouldn't mind hurting as we make our way."

"Slavers," Shelly said, darkly. The man shot her a look, then glanced at Sean who nodded.

"We're open to many kinds of jobs, for or against most people, but nothing that helps Slavers."

"Hmm ... you do know, naturally, that I may be aligned with some you dislike." He raised an eyebrow at them. Sean shrugged, putting his hands around the top of his mug so his ring was again displayed.

"And if that is the case, I trust you will let us buy you another beer and let us be on our way." They held each other's eyes for a moment. Nodding, the man raised in mug in a toast. Sean did the same.

"I think we can do business together." Shelly raised hers as well, the three drinking. Once the mugs were back on the table Sean pulled a pad of paper out of his bag. He ripped out a sheet, and slid it across the table. The man took out a pen, writing a few series of numbers without his hand touching the paper. When he was done, Sean pulled it back, handing it to Shelly. The man pulled out his own pad, the process repeating.

The information having been exchanged, they relaxed. The stranger looked over at Shelly, giving her a playful leer.

"So, my Lady, how about you and I celebrate our new business arrangements?" Shelly leaned forward, breasts saying hello in a delightful new way, lips giving him a sexy smile as she looked him up and down.

"Tell you what, old man. Next time we're in the city, I'll look you up. And, depending on how you've steered us, either we'll fuck ... or you're fucked."

With a laugh, he raised his mug to Shelly.

"Looking forward to it!"

Ken being happy was starting to piss off Mel.

He always pissed off Mel. It was his one defining trait. In fact, now, you could almost say the annoyance that was Ken was the one constant in her life. The rest of creation could explode and reform in a million random ways, yet she could always rely on her oldest friend being fucking annoying.

Which was good. He was her rock.

"So, are we lost yet?"

He was holding a tourist map, printed on glossy paper. It had lots of bright lines, colorful pictures, and very little information. Ken didn't seem to care, though. He responded to her question by just smiling.

She hated that smile.

A raindrop fell on her bare scalp. Great. Just great. Reaching a hand up, she wiped the bald side of her head off. Maybe she could pick up a silly hat with the name of a local sports team while they were here.

"This way!" Ken indicated they should turn right at the intersection. Mel's eyes flicked around. There were few cars, little walking traffic. This wasn't a good neighborhood. Not enough rubble, or burned out doorways. No cover, should the feces hit the spinning blades. Now, home ... home was someplace where you could always hide.

Rounding the corner, she finally saw something recognizable. Two girls, dark skinned with torn clothing, stood back to back. A dozen teens, not much better dressed, circled around them. Catcalls could be heard, threats of rape, murder, and other fun familiar sounds of home. Mel felt her fists involuntarily clench.

There was the sound of paper crinkling. Eyes flicking over to her right, she saw Ken slip the map into his jacket pocket. His shoulders rotated, neck worked out a kink. His eyes stayed on the gang.

"Rescue or revenge?"

His question was calm. Ken was always calm, when it came to a fight. Mel was emotion, rage. Ken was her rock.

"Rescue."

He nodded. Unbuttoning his jacket, Ken undid the fastener on his belt knife. Mel did the same.

"No death, unless cause. Hit the tall one and distract. I'll take them down the left hand alley."

As one, they began jogging down the sidewalk. Mel cleared her mind. She had been where those two girls were. She had also been one of those ringing them. Hunter, prey. Today, she was hunter.

She was noticed while she was still a few feet away, one of the mob on the other side of the girls looking right at her. Mel payed them no mind. Knife out, she plowed into the nearest thug, a girl about four inches taller than her and twice as heavy. She sliced into some of the blubber, getting a satisfying cry of pain in reply. As the girl staggered, Mel shot an elbow up into the head the boy next to her, at the same time spinning around behind him. Kicking at the back of his leg, she pushed her human shield into another boy.

The mob scattered.

Leaving the injured to their fate, noting that more than her two were on the ground suffering, Mel turned and ran. Ken was twenty feet in front of her, guiding the two girls. One of them seemed to be limping, but still kept up.That was good. They had to move, get to populated areas. Sheathing her knife, wishing she dared clean it on her shirt, Mel entered the alley.

Ken stopped about midway up the passage. It was as good a place as any, and if they were going to be trapped there might as well be no obvious closer exit. Keep them guessing, that was his motto. So was rescuing attractive women. Well, that was more of a habit and hobby than a motto. The exact definition of words was not something he concerned himself with.

"You two OK?"

He watched as the two girls collapsed against the brick wall. They were attractive, at least to him. Twins, he thought, or at the very least sisters. They stood about shoulder high on him, breasts not that developed yet, although in the loose shirts it was hard to tell. They were thin, obviously not all that well nourished, with skin a bit lighter brown than Sean's but much nicer to look at. Their hair was black, curly, as well as very dirty. Mel came up to them, limbs moving effortlessly as she slowed from a run.

"They OK?"

"That's what I just asked." Ken took a quick glance at the ends of the alley. Still clear. "OK, we have to go. Your choice, ladies. Either we leave you here, having done our heroic duty, or you point out a nice restaurant in a public part of town and we treat you to a meal." His eyes flicked up, casing the rooftops. He hated alleys, unless he knew them.

The non limping one looked up from her sister Bella, grey eyes shining.

"Thank you." The other one nodded, pushing herself away from the wall and standing next to Bell.

"Yes. Thanks. We'll take that food."

Amanda sat on her bed, the day's purchases spread out around her. Lots of new underwear, a big bag of candy, a shirt she just HAD to have, and a paint set. The smooth white wall in front of her displayed the first use of those paints: a yellow sun, over green grass. The more she looked at the pitiful work of the past half hour, the more they seemed to mock her.

She wanted to stay.

She wanted to just stay and play in that park every day. To be under the blue sky, on swing sets, feet kicking the dirt. She wanted to be out of this white box she had spent the last two weeks in. Just the idea of going back into space made her want to scream. She couldn't do it...

... but Kine wouldn't leave.

She knew that. Amanda didn't even have to ask. It wasn't that bitch Irene: that was too new to have any pull on him. No. It was Don.

Amanda had seen it before, this side of her brother. Kine would not leave Don. Not now. He had even said so, a few days ago. He had found someone he respected, someone he trusted. Someone he could follow. He wasn't the type to abandon such a person so soon into service.

But, what about HER?!? What about HER feelings? Mind you, her brother didn't know, yet, that she wanted to stay, but that was no excuse! He should KNOW how she felt, to the point of suggesting they stay when he saw how much fun she had today! Amanda grabbed up her teddy, hugging it tightly.

Maybe if she just left.

Yeah, that was it. Amanda could, just before they were going to leave, walk out of the ship and stand there waiting. Kine would HAVE to join her. He wouldn't abandon her! Yes, that would work ... she'd leave, force him to choose between her and his own desires...

... and he'd hate her.

No, not hate ... he'd be disappointed in his little sister.

She hugged Teddy tighter. That would be worse than hate.

Amanda looked around the room. Where WAS big brother, anyway?

There was nothing, Kine had discovered years ago, better than a fiery naked girl thrashing under you.

He had grown up fast, as most of his generation tended to. He had seen death by age ten, caused death by age twelve. That was the same year, as if to counter the growing horror around him, that his growing body began cutting a wide swath through the hearts and thighs of the village girls. Sex was good. Sex was fun. Sex, also, came easily enough that he could be casual about it. Wait for someone special, not have to settle for anyone because, well, he could HAVE anyone.

Irene was incredible.

She was practically growling, legs locked around his ass, hands gripping not his back, but his shoulder muscles. A slight shift in positions a minute ago had suddenly revealed the perfect angle for their joining. There was no thought. Just emotion. Joy. Pleasure.