“Uh oh,” Ray said just loud enough for the rest of the squad to hear. “Contacts moving across our eleven, ten meters out. No, don’t everyone look, or you’ll attract their attention.”

“What is it?” Kayla asked apprehensively. “Helvets?”

“Worse. Forest battalion. Those bitches got the same leave block, and they think they’re going to move in on our action. Freakin’ teddy bear lovers.”

Around the table, the other girls murmured their agreement that Forest battalion was indeed the home of sloppy Rangers with an unhealthy fascination for teddy bears. The Mountain Ranger battalion held it to be a matter of incontestable truth. Though Kayla had neither heard any logical explanation for, nor seen any evidence of the obsession, she nevertheless accepted the claim with the same conviction that the sun would rise, or that morning PT took place at six a.m.

The bar in downtown Zula was becoming more crowded as the night progressed, and while Kayla was happy to chat with the same people she spent every waking moment with, she was beginning to long for a little of the inebriated flirting she had been promised. They had all dressed in their finest, and she, after some discussion with Thandi, had settled on a dark maroon dress that everyone assured her was gorgeous.

Across the room, a group of cool-eyed young women had taken over a table, and were preparing to order drinks.

“I’m gonna go assault through the ambush,” Ray said, and pushed back from the table. She strode confidently over to the offenders and launched into a spirited debate with them.

Lyna beamed at Jess. “So, the rules are that any man, woman, or farm animal that you approach first is yours for the duration of the evening. Do not approach anyone who has already been approached by another Soror, because there will be substantial negative consequences.”

Jess’s apprehensive smile flattened. “What kind of—”

“Getting thrown out of a plane without a parachute is a common punishment for trying to steal another girl’s date, regardless of unit,” Lyna said. “No, I am not kidding.”

Kayla squeezed her arm. “Don’t worry it’s less painful the second time you do it.”

“Really?”

Kayla chuckled. “No, I’m kidding. I haven’t actually done it twice.”

“But anyway,” Lyna continued, “let us know if a girl is messing with you or your date. That’s a squad level response protocol, and it starts with spiking the drinks of those responsible. Also not a joke.” She smiled evilly, and tapped at her handbag.

“But what about…” Jess glanced around carefully, “civilians?”

“Weapons free,” Kayla said, then caught Thandi’s eye. “Metaphorically speaking. Don’t start a fight. Call for support as needed.”

“Pick someone you like,” Tian said, “then me and Kayla will set you up. I’ll be the ugly duckling, and Kayla can be queen bitch.”

Kayla smiled grimly. “I guess it’s my talent.”

“Okay then,” Jess said and began to discreetly examine the room.

Ray rejoined them, with a happy expression. “They will stand down until we’ve had our fun,” she explained.

“How did you sell that?” Lyna asked.

“I just explained we had the infamous Kayla Barnes with us.”

“Ray, for Christ’s sake!” Kayla groaned, then caught Thandi’s eye again. “Sorry.”

“I’m kidding,” Ray reassured her. “I said we’d been deployed for two months, and they were very understanding. Word about our goat rope has gotten around.”

Bibi sighed. “All we do is gossip. It’s so disheartening.”

Gaz eyed the occupants of the bar as he stepped inside. It had the smoky air typical of colonist dives, and the music was toned down enough that people could actually talk to each other. No doubt that was why his contact had chosen the place. Businessmen of all kinds converged on Caldera’s smaller towns to make deals free from the meddlesome and watchful eyes of the League’s Adjudicate enforcers. Then there would be the adventurers out to explore the final frontier, prospectors looking to exploit it, and good old-fashioned smugglers. It was a crowd of nobodies, and everybody respected that.

In a quiet corner, he spotted a man in a leather jacket with a racing league logo. His contact. Gaz bought himself a drink, then wandered over. When he sat down, the heavy set, portly man lit a cigarette and glanced nervously around the bar.

“Take it easy,” Gaz said. “You’re not in the League’s social network anymore. This is the wildlands.”

“I don’t think there are any more wildlands, fella,” the man said.

“What do I call you?”

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

“I’ll go with Kite for the time being.”

Gaz managed to restrain his laughter, but he couldn’t keep a smile from breaking out on his face. Kite glared at him.

“Like the racing team?” Gaz asked. “I guess you’re a fanboy?”

“I happen to think that a dozen galaxy championships merits respect,” Kite insisted.

“Sorry, you’re right. You can call me Gaz, by the way.”

“I know who you are. Everyone around here is talking about marines in town, up to no good. Do me a favor and keep things quiet, yeah? No point adding to your reputation.”

Gaz shrugged. “We try to be quiet, but it’s hard to control your reputation when you make so many enemies.”

“Maybe.” Kite paused and glared at him. “So…?”

Gaz nodded and reached into his jacket. He produced a small envelope and laid it on the table,

“Tier three ident,” he explained. “You can start a new life anywhere with that.”

Kite peeked inside, then snatched the thing away into a pocket. “Sounds good, because I will bloody well need it.”

A young woman laughed raucously across the bar. Both men glanced around and studied the party of friends for a moment.

“Cute, but harmless,” Gaz said. “So, let’s talk.”

He and Sanchez had spent the better part of a week watching the brothel on the outskirts of Rackeye, and confirmed the regular presence of a senior VennZech executive. But their security was strong, and there was no way to get a closer look. Gaz suggested they pay more attention to the shipyards, since they were infiltrated by cartels. Criminals meant greed, which meant someone would always be keen for extra cash, or a favor. And so, he asked around Zula and nearby towns, making it known that he had money and services to provide for information.

Active workers wouldn’t talk, but he had been hoping to find someone who had moved on, and maybe carried some guilt about his former life. That was how he had come across Kite.

“I worked in the port front office,” Kite explained, “managing the admin. I didn’t see or hear anything directly, you understand?”

“They wouldn’t be doing a good job if guys like you were getting suspicious,” Gaz said reassuringly.

He didn’t believe it. After four years of investigating human trafficking, he had never met anyone who would admit to seeing or hearing anything. Of course not—they had been paid a lot of money to be blind, deaf, and dumb. The guy made his skin crawl, but if Kite had information, Gaz had to hear him out.

“All I know,” Kite continued, “is that there was one part of the storage grounds which nobody was to go near, on the instructions of the manager. He said that VennZech were bringing through military shipments, and it was classified.”

“They make weapons. Sounds normal.”

“I know it was, because once in a while I was signing off with the Helvetic Army about some of those deliveries.”

Gaz shrugged. “Every starport in the world has a black zone. Doesn’t prove anything.”

“Except that the contract longshoremen would go in there.”

“These are connected guys?”

Kite shrugged. He obviously didn’t want to say. Talking about cartel business was a reliable way to end your days sooner than expected, especially if they were doing the dirty work of a mega-corporation.

Gaz decided to push a little further. “Were they local?”

“How should I know? I didn’t interact with them.”

“From Intaba?”

The split-second eye movement told Gaz what he needed to know, and he backed off.

“But military restriction means we can’t get anywhere near it,” he said disappointedly.

Kite nodded as he reached for his drink. “If you even try, I expect your bodies will end up in the river by the next morning.”

“I don’t think you’re being that helpful, Mr Kite.”

Kite chuckled. “Not for the game you want to play, no. But you said you wanted information. I got that in spades.”

Gaz brow furrowed. “But not on longshoreman? Do you have something on VennZech?”

“Sure, if you’re adding a sweetener on top of the ident.”

Gaz hesitated. How was this going to help him? The comings and goings of a major corporation would probably be useful to someone, but he had a specific focus. Three kids were still missing, and they weren’t likely to have been kept in a weapons shipment. Besides, Sanchez didn’t have a lot of money to spend.

On the other hand, they had no way into the shipyards, and maybe Kite’s information would lead to another vulnerability.

Gaz nodded. “20k into your ident’s account, then.”

“A couple of weeks ago,” Kite said, “they called in all hands to move a really big shipment. And it didn’t sit in the yard either. Went straight through. My old boss was begging me back for a one-time job. Huge bonus.”

“What kind of shipment?”

“No idea. But they wouldn’t let it sit in storage. Put every scheduled transfer on hold just for a dozen big containers off a freighter. My mate in traffic control told me there was no paperwork for the arrival either. VennZech just showed up one day making demands and throwing money around. An hour later, there was a vessel jumping into the system. Then, as soon as they were done, it jumped away.”

Gaz sighed. Probably nothing he could use. Though he might as well check one detail.

“I don’t suppose you were able to find out the port of origin?”

Kite sat back in his chair, and his smile twisted into a leery grin. “Intaba.”

Gaz felt his pulse quicken. There had to be a connection here. He pulled out his phone, and brought up a photo of the executive they had been tracking.

“The guy from VennZech calling the shots. This him?”

“Uh… Yup. Huh. Small world, isn’t it?”

Gaz dragged a few more minor details out of Kite before the man left. The whole story felt thin, but there had to be something to it. How it would help him track down his victims he had no idea, but he had often been surprised where seemingly unrelated threads could lead.

He went back to the bar, ordered another beer, and tried to think.

“Gawd,” drawled a female voice nearby. “Do you have to come in here stinking of the farms? Are colonists allergic to showers?”

Gaz looked round to see three of the young women he had seen earlier. The speaker, with a black ponytail and a dark red outfit, had challenged one of the men at the bar, while her friends watched, aghast. Probably a Helvet, looking to satisfy her adventurous side by visiting the rough side of the planet.

“Leave him alone Kayla,” another young woman complained. “You’re so mean sometimes.”

The ponytail wearer tilted her head away in disappointment, and Gaz knew immediately that she was putting on an act. Her accent seemed to be Calderan, and though she was doing a realistic impression of a stuck up Helvet, it wasn’t perfect. He watched as she waltzed back to her table with her drink, while her friends struck up a conversation with her victim.

She was setting her friend up, Gaz thought, and he didn’t bother to mask a smirk. They were an odd group at her table, all athletic, and carrying themselves with confidence. Most girls on a night out made a lot of noise, but though this group were drinking and having fun, their voices were muted. And occasionally, he noticed, one of them would sweep her eyes around the place, checking everything, but fixating on nothing. Scanning.

The girl with the ponytail glanced at him, and for a moment he was struck by her expression of determination. She might have been playing a role, but Gaz decided he would not want to give the game away and earn her wrath. He turned his eyes back to the bar.

“Hey, man,” a voice said over his shoulder, moments later.