Revenant (Shadow of War Book 1), page 17
“Eh, I’m sure even the Roaches are tired of the Overlords,” Caera said. “Any chance we could find out who these Roaches belong to before we find ourselves in weapons range?”
“We’re already in weapons range,” Jace said. “They haven’t targeted us or made a comms request. If they’re here on Overlord business, then it doesn’t concern us anyway.”
“Hopefully,” Eren said under his breath.
“Hey, even if the Enforcers are after me, would they really send the Roaches?” Jace asked. Then he thought better of it. “Shoot, I guess at this point, maybe they would.”
As the planet grew in the viewscreen and the streaks of spacecraft thrusters blazed across, Jace kept one eye—and the sensors—glued to the Roach ship. The warship didn’t make any unexpected maneuvers, nor did its weapons signatures give off any indication the ship was preparing for combat. In fact, the ship seemed to be in a state of stasis. He hoped that was a good sign. But he supposed he wouldn’t really know what was going on until he set foot on the planet.
“Wonder if they are rebels,” Caera said. “Seems like this is as good a place as any to make a stop if the Enforcers aren’t hanging around.”
“Doubt it,” Jace said.
“Why?”
“Just couldn’t imagine rebels getting ahold of a ship this strong and flying it into a place like this.”
“You couldn’t?” Eren asked.
“Nah. No way. They’re too out in the open.”
“Maybe the people here are different than you think,” Caera said. “Maybe they sympathize with rebel activities.”
“There’d have to be rebel activities for them to sympathize with. I haven’t heard of anything since… what, Rising Dawn was defeated two years ago?”
“I don’t know.” Caera sounded almost annoyed. “Maybe we just don’t hear anything because the Dominion doesn’t want us to hear anything.”
“Could be,” Jace agreed. “I mean, if they’re willing to burn houses down because of a made-up suspicion, I guess you’re right.” He glanced at the Roach ship. “Still, I doubt that Roach ship would have anything to do with rebel activity. Everyone’s just trying to protect their own now.”
“And that’s how the enemy wins,” Caera said. “Force people to protect only themselves instead of trying to stick their neck out for their neighbors.”
“You stick your neck out too far, and you’re liable to get your head chopped off,” Jace said.
“Right enough,” Eren said, much to Caera’s apparent displeasure. “A turtle’s safer if it keeps its head in its shell.”
“And Roaches are safer if they don’t come out in the light.” Jace gestured to the ship on their screen. “Look, we’re going to assume these guys were sent by the Overlords. So when we get down there, I want you to stay close by my ship again. It’ll be safer that way in case we need a quick liftoff again. I don’t want anyone breaking into the ship while we’re gone, and Eren, I figure you’ll want to keep your cargo safe.”
He nodded. “I’d feel better about that, yes.”
Jace’s nerves never settled as they made their final approach. He kept waiting for a comm request from planetary security or a hidden Enforcer ambush. Maybe an unannounced volley of incoming fire slung from the Roach ship that would vaporize him before he could so much as blink.
But to his immense surprise, they made it into atmo without incident. Below spread the urban sprawl of Lizard’s Keep, a shoddy city made predominantly of ramshackle buildings and dusty roads. Entire forests had been cleared to harvest the lumber and make room for the hovels surrounding the central city. Smaller hoverships and planetary vehicles buzzed around the city. In the distance, a sandstorm burgeoned over the horizon, looking as if it was headed this way.
He put down the ship at a public dockyard, and immediately, his comms were filled with requests from various salespeople reaching out to provide refueling. He already had a known supplier in mind and rejected the other calls, instead making a refueling request from someone he trusted.
“Stay tight here,” Jace said. “Victor’s going to be the one doing the refueling. Guy looks like a blind ship mechanic’s thumb, but he doesn’t bite if you don’t try biting him. I’m going to run into town to find my ammo supplier.”
“You sure you can’t just call them?” Caera asked.
“No can do,” Jace said. “I’ve got to find someone willing to provide an unlicensed ship with untracked ammunition. The people down here aren’t even going to accept an encrypted call. They don’t exactly trust anything that can be tapped, hacked, or cracked. In person is the only way to do business in the Keep.”
Jace stood from his seat and retreated to the cargo hold. He snagged his belt and holster and was about to head out the hatch when he recalled the ominous sandstorm. Thinking better of it, he donned a tattered cloak and strapped on a pair of goggles. Back home, that kind of getup would look awfully suspicious. Out here, in this kind of weather, it would be suspicious if he didn’t wear it. Might help conceal his identity too, should there be some unfortunately placed Enforcers along his path.
Shadow watched from a shelf as Jace opened the hatch.
“Take care of the ship for me, will you?” he said to the cat.
The feline meowed, and Jace disappeared outside.
Already, the hot winds had picked up. Grit scratched against Jace’s face. He walked between other ships covered in dirt, about half with blackened scars along their hulls. People milled about the vessels, many in ragged cloaks like Jace’s, stubbornly carrying out repairs or refuels. Before Jace even made it a few steps from his ship, people accosted him, asking if he needed any work done or suggesting improvements they could make to the ship.
He'd learned that if you so much as engaged anyone on the Keep in conversation, even if you said no, they would not leave you alone. So he kept his eyes forward, marching toward the city, ignoring all those swarming around him and begging for his business until they gave up.
As he neared the edge of the dockyard, where the berths gave way to the ramshackle array of businesses, restaurants, and apartment buildings, there was only a single gate. And right near that gate, he spotted two Roaches. They had a man pressed up against a wall, and judging by the guy’s expression, the bugs weren’t interested in a friendly conversation.
TWENTY-ONE
Jace pulled his hood tighter over his head. He kept his gaze down as he passed by the gate. As furtively as possible, he stole a glance at the Roaches. Each was a full two heads taller than him. Long hairs or skinny antennae—Jace wasn’t sure—draped off their bodies from all over, even poking through the specially designed robes worn over their chitinous bodies. Their bulging black eyes glistened. Translucent sheaths blinked over them occasionally, protecting the wet orbs from the sand and wind.
The Roaches’ voices crackled out over electronic translators. Jace couldn’t quite make out what they were saying against the grating sounds of the winds. He desperately wanted to stick around and listen in, but doing so would make him a target. Like he’d told Caera, it was better not to stick his neck out. He blended in with the crowds of foot traffic heading into the edges of the city.
Jace’s destination wasn’t terribly far. Just a twenty-minute walk from the dockyard. As he dodged past food stalls and piles of trash left in the street, he noticed another Roach heading into a store. The brilliant orange and blues of a neon holo advertisement reflected against the Roach’s chitinous face. Jace doubted the creature was going into the building because those bright advertisements claimed that place had the best coffee bulbs in the city. As much as a bulb of hot coffee tempted Jace, he wasn’t interested at all in visiting a shop with a Roach infestation.
A block later, he spotted another trio of Roaches marching against the flow of foot traffic. They carried on with militaristic purpose, their eyes laser focused forward. People parted for them, not daring to get in their way or attract undue attention.
Not five minutes later, closer to Jace’s destination, another squad of Roaches was interrogating multiple people along the street. They were right in Jace’s way, but he had no intention of making himself one of their targets.
Instead, he abruptly stopped at one of the street vendors. Steam rose from a greasy griddle that looked like it had never met a cleaning brush. Rings of slimy fruit simmered on the metal surface, and the vendor stacked them onto wood skewers.
Jace pointed at one of the skewers, and the man held up a finger. After digging a coin out of his pocket, Jace dropped it in the guy’s outstretched hand and received one of the fried fruit skewers in return. One sniff told him he wouldn’t like it, but as he turned around, about to head down another street, he wanted any Roaches watching him to think he’d come all this way for this exact treat.
He crunched down on part of the fruit. It squished in his mouth, juices dripping down his chin and getting stuck in his stubble. It was exactly as delicious as it looked, which was to say the half-rotten bread sticking out of a trash pile that had become a prime habitat for the planet’s entire mold population probably tasted better.
Still, he chewed until the mess of nasty fruit became swallowable and gulped hard. His eyes watered from the horrible taste, but he continued back down the street the way he’d come, forcing himself to take another bite.
As soon as he judged it was believable enough, he dodged down a different street, taking a long route to avoid the gaggle of Roaches. The fruit skewer found its new home in a garbage pile. A stray dog sniffing the pile for scraps retched when he got a whiff of it.
“I don’t blame you,” Jace said.
He continued down several busier blocks. Only one more Roach appeared on his route, and this one was across the street, seemingly minding his own business, focused on a comm pad. The alien never looked up when Jace passed. Finally, he found himself at the watering hole he’d been looking for. He pushed open the door.
“We’re closed,” a deep voice said from behind the bar. The man was bent behind bottles of liquor and a line of beer taps, the sound of clinking glasses coming from below the bar.
“Even for me?” Jace asked.
The man rose to his full height, a glass in hand. He had a beard that looked as if he’d skinned a gorilla and pasted it to his face. His white shirt was an abstract painting of oil stains and holes.
“Jace, no kidding? That actually you, or did I hit my head trying to clean out the beer lines?”
“Nah, it’s me,” Jace said. “And don’t lie. You never clean out the beer lines.”
The bartender laughed. “Been a long time, brother.”
“Had to switch up my routes. Never want to pick up too much heat, you know?”
“Ah, I hear you.” Cedroc, the bartender, started pouring an amber beer from one of the taps into the glass in his hand. “The Keep’s hot too. I don’t blame you for staying away.”
Cedroc topped off the glass and slid it across the bar top to Jace. He yanked a tattered hat with a bill from behind the counter and covered his bald dome with it. A faded sun symbol from the former Solarhaven Alliance was emblazoned on it. Not something you could wear on most planets without being thrown into jail by the Enforcers. But the rules were different in the Keep. Or at least that was what Jace had thought.
“Yeah, what’s the deal?” Jace asked before taking a swig of beer.
Cedroc poured himself a brew. “A few months ago, we got word the Overlords actually wanted more mineral extraction from us. We got threats that the Enforcers would start showing up if our tributes weren’t good enough.”
“Tributes from Lizard’s Keep? And Enforcers showing up here?” Jace shook his head. “Doesn’t sound like the place it used to be.”
“Doesn’t. I get the sense the Overlords are starting to crack down on places like this. Anyway, you can imagine how people have been reacting to those threats. Didn’t take long, either, for people to start disappearing. Just straight-up vanishing. Not sure if it had to do with those threats and people’s responses or what, but I heard all kinds of rumors. Human trafficking. Serial killers.” He finished his pour and leaned over the bar. “Everything you can imagine.”
“Rebel activity?” Jace tried, his recent experiences sharp on his mind.
“Of course.”
“What’s with the Roaches?”
“Enforcers didn’t get a kind welcome in town.” He grinned. “I think they got tired of wearing rotten veggies and trash.”
Jace laughed, picturing the rowdiest of the Keep’s denizens pelting Enforcers with refuse. “The people here are either exceedingly brave or stupid.”
“Why not both?” Cedroc asked. “By the Founders’ name, I never thought I’d end up on the ass end of the universe, but it beats trying to live in normal society where this isn’t accepted.” He tapped on his frayed hat. “Founders forbid we tried to protect humanity, and now, humanity’s capitulated and let the Dominion grind us all into dust.”
“Is that why the Roaches are here? Just carrying out the Dominion’s orders?”
Cedroc took a swig of beer. The foam got all over his beard, but he didn’t seem to notice. “Something like that, I guess. Roaches have been hassling just about everyone. Pestering people on the street, trying to get us to act out, I think. They don’t much care who you are or what you’re doing. I suppose it’s the Overlords’ way of letting us know they’ve had it with us.”
“Parking another state’s warship over the planet seems like an effective way to do it.”
“You got that right. All the rambunctious types that ever bothered the occasional Enforcer coming through here have gone quiet. Everybody’s got their head down, just trying to get through the day, hoping none of the big bugs come into their place and bother them.” Cedroc used a thumb, pointing behind him. “Leonarda, two buildings down, got her store torn apart by the bugs. She doesn’t even know why. They said they were looking for something but wouldn’t tell her what. Then, when they left, they said if she came across anyone suspect, let ’em know.”
“Suspect how?”
“Beats me,” he said. “I’m guessing it’s just the usual warning. ‘See something, say something.’ Spot a terrorist, tell an authority. That kind of thing.”
Jace circled a finger around his beer. He didn’t want to drink too much more and dull his senses for the walk back. “Seems like all over, the Dominion’s been getting antsier. Like maybe they heard something we didn’t.”
“You might be onto something,” Cedroc said. “Between you and me, you aren’t the only Shadow or, er, other similar type of person to have said the same to me. Sounds like it’s rough out in the stars.”
“You can say that again.”
Cedroc finished off his beer. “I’m assuming you didn’t fly all the way out to these parts just to work your jaws.”
“I did not. Got a job. Need a refill, and I’m not talking beer.”
“Full-up or halfway?”
Jace knew he didn’t have the funds for it, but after their last encounter, he didn’t think he could afford not to top up the ship’s ammunition and countermeasures.
“You don’t got the sols, do you?” Cedroc asked, correctly interpreting Jace’s expression.
“Not quite yet,” he said. “But this job will ensure I never got to worry about that again. I can front you half now and then hit you up with second half plus ten percent at job completion.”
“It’s a gamble. I don’t gamble.”
“It’s not a gamble with me. And hell, if I don’t pay up, turn me in to the Roaches.”
Cedroc laughed. “You’re afraid of running into trouble, aren’t you?”
“Already found it once. Would like to survive the next time.”
Cedroc sighed. “I wouldn’t do it for anyone else.” He tapped the emblem on his hat again. “But a fellow leatherneck? Sure. This one time. I’ll have a few runners work with my people at the dockyard. It’ll take a couple hours, but I’ll get you what you need.”
“Thanks, Cedroc. I promise I’m good for the money.”
“Don’t need to tell me twice, or you’re going to make me rethink it. Instead, have another drink with me.” Then, his face screwed up in an expression of concern. “I gotta call my team, so you’re gonna have to excuse me. But when I get back, I want you to tell me why your pops isn’t here this time. I like the old codger.”
Cedroc disappeared into the back of the bar to let one of his underlings start the process of obtaining and delivering ammunition.
Jace had known Cedroc since he’d begun his journey as a Shadow, when he first stepped foot on the Keep and stumbled his way into the bar, looking for connections. He saw the Marines hat (crisp and clean back then) and started swapping stories with Cedroc, learning the guy was legit. They’d connected over their similar trials and tribulations of service to the Solarhaven Alliance and their collected rejection from society when the government had transformed nearly overnight under the control of the Overlords.
By the time Cedroc returned and they finished off a couple beers—or more accurately, when Cedroc had knocked back a half dozen pints and Jace was still nursing his first—Cedroc shook his head, brushing his thick fingers through his beard. Jace had told him pretty much everything that had happened since he returned to Achrome and visited Lex about his last job.
“You should’ve led with that, and I might’ve given you half that ammo for free before we shook on it,” Cedroc said with half a smile. “Marcus didn’t deserve that. Nah, brother, the Lion of Sevron deserves better. Much better. A slagging statue, a memorial somewhere. Fountains and all that.”
“You know that would be the last thing he wanted.”
“Yeah, but it’s what I would’ve wanted for him. If the damn Overlords weren’t prancing around, pretending they own the place—”
“They do own the place.”
“Point is, Solarhaven would’ve done right by your father. Damn shame. That’s all I’m saying.” Then, Cedroc lowered his voice as if there were other patrons who might overhear them. “You know, Jace, if there’s anything else I can do to help, let me know. I’m not just talking about your mother’s situation.”
