Spartan's Quest - Chapter 31
Author owns no rights to Firefly, and writes only for his own amusement.
Gunfire filled the air around Mal as the men around and behind him opened fire without waiting for orders to do so. Jerl launched himself across the space between himself and Mal, taking the Captain to the deck with him.
"Neera, take'em," Jerl shouted into his mike. In seconds the twin guns in Hecate's dorsal turret were spitting death and destruction across the slaver compound. Hecate rocked as the ship was impacted by something.
Mal, recovering, had drawn his own gun, but found no targets before him. Several of Wiggins' men, along with Wiggins herself, lay on the deck, some moaning in pain, others clearly dead. The others had abandoned their 'friends' to the dubious safety of the outside.
"Mount up!" Jerl McCann was on his feet. Mal looked behind him to see two of their own down, one for certain dead, the man having taken a round in the head.
"Let's go," Jerl ordered. "Alpha team, port side, Delta team to starboard. Shoot anyone with a weapon in their hands!"
"Watch for other prisoners!" Mal cautioned. "Like to be some victims still around!" Jerl nodded, not having thought about that. The troopers boiled off the ship, Mal following close behind.
Outside the ship was chaotic. Smoke boiled from two places where Neera had taken out the missile teams. Apparently one had gotten a shot off, Mal noted in passing, as Hecate had an ugly gouge in her port side.
Can't worry about that now, Mal reminded himself. As if to re-enforce that idea, a slaver appeared out of the smoke, a rifle in his hands. Mal shot him without the need for conscious thought, seeing the man drop to the ground.
Moving through the camp quickly, the troopers Jayne had sent with Mal cleared the opposition. Without Wiggins, there was a lack of co-ordination among the slavers. They were unaccustomed to their 'victims' putting up much of a fight.
In less than five minutes, the fight was over. A handful of slavers had surrendered to the black clad storm troopers, opting to take their chances in court. If they made it that far.
Mal surveyed the damage. His team had taken two more casualties in the fighting off ship. Though the exchange was lopsidedly in favor of Mal's men, he regretted the loss of even one man in cleaning up such a nest of scum. Jerl McCann appeared before him, blood running down his face from a wound alongside his temple. The man didn't seem to notice.
"All secure, Captain," he informed Mal. "We have two dead, and two more wounded. Only one seriously. We're moving him to the ship right now."
"I want one team to sweep the grounds," Mal ordered. "Make sure there's no one left. And have someone interrogate the 'prisoners' we took. If they got folks bein' held here, I wanna find'em, and take'em off this rock."
"Already being done, sir," McCann nodded. "No word yet on any prisoners they were keeping, but if they're here, we'll find them." Mal nodded, satisfied that things were in good hands. He turned just in time to be enveloped in a crushing hug.
"Gorram woman!" he screeched as Neera squeezed him. "Ease off 'fore you break my dainty li'l ol' ribs!" The Amazon did as ordered, though she did not relinquish her hold.
"When I saw the bay, I was afraid. . . ." She didn't finish, choosing instead to kiss Mal very hard. When she allowed him to come up for air, he grinned.
"Well, now, this is a mighty pleasin' way to end a gunfight, if'n I do say so myself!" Neera shook him slightly at that, but laughed as well.
"Don't scare me like that again."
"I'll sure try not to," Mal agreed, checking his ribs.
"That didn't take long," Neera said, calming now that she knew Mal was okay.
"Costly, though," Mal sighed. "Two dead, two more hurt bad enough to need attention."
"It could have been worse," Neera shrugged philosophically. "And there's not telling how many have met their end here, Mal. This was a good thing, that needed doing. We all knew that."
"Don't make it no easier," Mal pointed out. But, he had to agree. These people had victimized Lord only knew how many people in the time they'd been running their little scam. Now, that was at an end.
"Let's take a look around," he said, checking his pistol. "See what we can find. Might find a lot of missing people went through here."
When Athena settled on Beaumonde, Jayne found his four friends waiting for him. Meadows and Fell had gotten there just hours ahead of him. He smiled at the look on Winters' face.
"It's about gorram time!" she exclaimed.
"Sorry, Liz," Jayne grinned.
"One of these days, boy, I'm. . . ."
"We got other business today," Fell tried not to laugh. "Kill'im some other time, Liz." The others, including Barstow, all laughed at that.
"It's a conspiracy, that's what it is," the woman grumbled, but said nothing else.
"You know the way, so you lead," Jayne said simply. Behind him, nine of his Team, plus another dozen security troops, were disembarking. The 'mortals' would stay with the ships, and form a reserve, or, should it be needed, serve as a rescue.
"We're gonna be outnumbered," Fell noted. "'Bout two to one, likely." Normally that wouldn't have mattered. Wilson and his crew, however, were not normal.
"Can't be helped," Jayne shrugged. "All we got is all we got. We hit them hard enough, fast enough, that should make the difference."
"Should," Meadows nodded. "Unless it don't."
"Won't know til we see," Barstow said. "Let's get this show on the road."
"I left orders with Hawkins to blow Wilson's ship out of the black if it clears atmo," Jayne shared as they geared up. The others nodded in approval.
"Well, looks like everyone's set," Jayne said finally. River crossed to him.
"All ready," she told him.
"Let's head out, then."
Mal and Neera had found Wiggins' office without much trouble. Try as they might, however, they could find no trace of what ships, or how many, the slavers had managed to trap with their scheme. The few records they did find, however, indicated that the scam had probably been going on for years.
"They've been here a while," Neera noted, looking at some of the papers found in Wiggins' files. "I wonder if they've been doing this all along, or started later?"
"Either way, it's a nasty bit o' business," Mal told her. "And one that needed put paid to." Before Neera could answer, Jerl McCann's voice cracked across their radios.
"Mal, you guys need to see this. We're three buildings down from where you are. I'll be out front." Exchanging a wary look, the pair left the office, making their way down to where McCann was waiting.
"What ya got?" Mal asked, not sure he really wanted to know.
"You'll have to see it for yourself," was all the other man said. Mal eyed him for a moment, then stepped inside the building, followed closely by Neera, then McCann.
Mal stopped just a few steps into the building. Row after row of cages sat on the floor, down one wall and back up the other. And some of them were occupied.
"Wo de tien ya!" Mal muttered under his breath. All of the prisoners were women, or children. Already McCann had men releasing the prisoners as fast as they could.
"Folks," Mal said after a moment, "folks I know ya'll are hard put upon, but I'm a Justice o' Ministry Marshal, and we just. . . ." His voice was drowned out by ragged cheers from the prisoners. Stunned, Mal didn't know how to react.
"Bless you, Marshal!" an older woman called as she was let out of the cage she'd been held in. "Bless all of you!" Similar cries wafted up and down the lines as person after person offered thanks to Mal and God for their release.
"Worth it now?" Neera whispered in his ear. "I know the men who died would think so," she added. McCann, having heard, nodded in agreement.
"Ain't no doubt," he said softly. Mal looked at both of them for a moment, then nodded.
"Have the slavers held in the most uncomfortable spot on the ship," he ordered. "We'll have to take these folks with us, so we'll be a might cramped."
"We'll make do. Marshal," McCann added, grinning. Mal found himself returning it as troopers began to round up the freed prisoners and herd them toward the ship.
Less than three hours after the first shot was fired, Hecate lifted off, pausing in the air just long enough to turn the cursed compound into a smoking ruin.
Thirty minutes after that, she was on the way home.
"Somehow, I'm let down," Meadows said, as they viewed the area around Wilson's ship. "I mean, really. Where is the professionalism these days? The pride?"
"That's a mangy lookin' bunch o' mongrels, fer sure," Fell agreed, spitting into the dirt at his feet.
"Let's don't be fooled by what we see," Jayne urged. "Remember, they've been turned. Probably for a while, now."
"Maybe," Winters nodded. "But I have to agree. This is just pathetic. Anti-climactic even."
"It ain't over yet," Barstow sided with Jayne. "Let's don't get ahead of ourselves."
"Unaware," River said softly. The others turned to look at her.
"They are unaware of our presence," she explained. "Unaware that we are nearby. In fact, they seem unaware of anything," she frowned. "I. . .I think they're intoxicated."
"Is that a fact?" Fell grinned. "Well now, that's just dandy."
"All of them, River?" Jayne asked. He didn't believe in luck that much.
"No," she admitted. "But many. Even most. Like recovering from a party. No, not a party, more like a. . . ." She stopped suddenly, going pale. "Oh, no."
"What?" five voices spoke at once.
"They've fed," River was trembling at the images in her mind. "Heavily and recently. A family from nearby. . . ." She broke off at that, unable to continue.
"That tears it," Jayne wanted to scream. "We have to get rid of them, now, and get out of here. Someone will report the family missing, and then the lid will come off."
"I say we just nuke the place from orbit," Barstow offered. "Wash our hands of the whole thing and head on home."
"Got a nuke on ya, do ya?" Jayne asked, testily.
"Well, no," the lawyer admitted. "I just assumed you'd have one. I mean, you've always got toys that others don't have."
"Well, I ain't," Jayne snorted. "And wouldn't use it if I did. That'd be worse than that bunch being found out."
"We will have to go in after them," River stated flatly. "There's no other way to make sure that the rot is torn from the branch."
"What she said," Fell nodded. Jayne looked at the others, all nodding in agreement.
"Well, let's get set, then," was all he said.
The members of Jayne's assault team moved slowly across the terrain, mindful of possible booby traps. Jayne didn't really expect them, since this bunch seemed to feel awfully secure. But he didn't know them either. There was no way to predict what they might or might not do in a given situation.
There was also the need to maintain surprise if they could. Being outnumbered two to one against normal thugs wouldn't have worried any of them, even River. Against others similar to themselves was another matter entirely.
River was acting as their scout, for all intents and purposes, her mind ranging far ahead of them. That allowed the team to stay together, as well as eliminating the need to take chances looking over the layout as they approached.
It had been decided that they would attack just before sundown. Any later, and there was the chance that Wilson would post at least some sentries. Right now, there appeared to no look-outs of any kind.
River suddenly held her hand up, and the entire group froze in place. Jayne strained to see whatever River had seen, but couldn't see anything out of place.
Slowly River made her way over to where Jayne and Barstow were lying, conferring quietly about the situation.
"Wilson, at least I think it's Wilson, is awake and aware," she told them bluntly. "And he's suspicious. I don't know of what. I do not believe he knows we are here. It seems more likely that he is expecting trouble from another source."
"Brockman, maybe?" Barstow asked. "Afraid of a backstab?"
"Possibly," River nodded. "In absence of further information, I would say likely."
"Anyone on the ship, can you tell?" Jayne asked, looking to where Lucky Seven sat on the ground. No one was around the ship outside, but that didn't mean it was deserted.
"Yes, including Wilson," River informed him. "There are three other minds on the ship. One is awake and aware, the other two are sleeping, I think. They are very relaxed, at any rate. It is difficult to tell from this range, and without seeing them."
"Just do your best, little bit," Barstow nodded. "We already know more than we would, if not for you." River smiled and nodded in return, pleased with the older man's comment. Jayne usually said the same thing, but hearing it from someone else was encouraging.
"We can't afford for that ship to get off the ground, or to be in the fight," Jayne said flatly. "Period. It's not armed or armored like Athena, but it's more than what we're carrying will take on, and the weapons are heavy enough to kill one of us outright."
"True," Barstow agreed. "So what do we do?"
"I hate to do this," Jayne shook his head slightly, "but I think I'm going to tell Hawkins to bring Artemis into atmo, and attack the ship."
"Why not let him do a general strafing run, while we keep them contained?" Barstow asked. "We can pick off anyone who manages to escape."
"Because it would attract more attention than a 'one pass haul ass' strike," Jayne replied. "We don't need any attention out here right now. We need to be able to clean this mess up, and get the hell out of here without being seen. Or identified," he added.
"Really putting us in the hot seat, here, Janos," Barstow commented. "I know it has to be done, but it seems like we're taking far more chances than we have to. How far is the nearest town?"
"Approximately forty-three and three-quarter miles," River replied at once. "Nearest Alliance military facility is two-hundred fifteen and one-half miles. Approximate response time is forty-two minutes."
"That's a lot of time, Janos," Barstow pointed out. He never thought of questioning the little reader's figures.
Jayne frowned, thinking on that. It was true that they would have their hands full with so many. And, he admitted, Artemis would wreak havoc on the small gathering in mere minutes. They could always bring Athena in close to pick them up, but that would leave Winters' and Meadows' ships sitting where they were. Neither had a pilot on board.
"If we do it that way, we might have to leave Liz's ship here. Garry's too," he finally said. "Think they'd be willing to do that?"
"I don't know," Barstow admitted. "We can ask. You can always buy them another," he added, grinning.
"I will, if that's what it takes," Jayne agreed at once. "Find out, and be quick about it. We're losing daylight."
"Wait," River said suddenly. Both men looked at her questioningly. Suddenly, she smiled.
"I have a plan."