Chapter 11

She’d cleared the bunkrooms,showers, mess hall.

“Where oh where have my three lambs gone? Where oh where can they be?” Syra sang the tune quietly to herself, having no idea where she’d learned it. She’d certainly never seen a lamb. Orbital meat was all vat-grown. Actual stock animals required far too much space and resources. She’d only had Earth beef once in her life. She’d found it tough and stringy. The taste was also wrong—almost pungent—barely related to the juicy steaks that were so readily available.

And why was she being distracted by such thoughts when she was on the hunt?

Because of that idiot civilian up in the control room?

How low was that? Syra Clairborne thinking about a man during a mission.

She forced her attention ahead. There had been several outstanding maintenance items on the duty list, but no Mirror crew had been assigned to them that she’d been able to see.

At a loss, she headed toward the cargo bay to see if someone had escaped the final trap. She almost tripped on them.

The woman lay in the corridor, badly enough battered that it was hard to tell if she was conscious. She hadn’t gone down without a fight, though. One man lay nearby, with his head turned at a very unlikely angle and his eyes wide. The other man, slacks down around his ankles, was busy raping the prostrate woman.

Syra didn’t hesitate. She squatted to change angle and fired a bolt out of her forearm gun. It entered through his personal exhaust port or maybe it cut a new one right next to it. His skin bulged taut for a moment as the small concussion grenade went off deep inside, somewhere between his head and his heart. His scream wasn’t even formed before he died.

She kicked the man aside and checked the woman’s pulse. It faded away and was gone beneath her fingertips before she could even reach into her med kit. The woman still had the remnants of Army fatigues on. The men were both dressed like civilians. She checked their pockets and came up with Indian Government Inspector badges.

Worse than civilian. Earthers!

Taking down a soldier for sport.

Maybe they thought it would be easy or fun or…who knew how it started. They’d certainly gotten more than they’d bargained for.

More than she herself had bargained for. Even after she covered the woman, Syra couldn’t look away.

Lucius was not like these men. As different as could be imagined.

She’d always thought of us and them: warrior and civilian.

But Lucius had far more in common with an RDM than either of these bastards.