Night Song (The Guild Wars Book 9) by Mark Wandrey (best management books of all time .txt) 📗

“We fight.”

“All of your troopers. Gear them out. I want a direct assault. Overwhelm their base.”

“Many Big Strong Fist die…”

“That’s your job,” Ifka snapped, but fixed her eyes on Alan as she said it.

“She can’t do that,” Shadow said, “can she?”

“I have not seen the Lumar contract,” Niss said, blinking his huge eyes. “I cannot say.”

“Do it or forfeit your bond.”

Alan flinched. Any merc threatened with forfeiture of bond tended to have a visceral reaction. The amount wasn’t overwhelming on most contracts, a few thousand to a hundred thousand usually. It wasn’t the credits—it was the black mark on their Mercenary Guild record. Employers didn’t look into the reason; they only saw the stain of a bond forfeiture. More than a few Human companies had ceased to exist because of a bond claim under the shadiest of reasons.

Ulan slowly nodded. “We fight,” he said, and turned to go. Before he could take a step out of the meeting room, another Lumar entered. Shadow’s eyes went wide as he processed the differences; it was a female.

* * *

Alan liked to think he’d passed the point of being surprised. The arrival of the strange Lumar educated him to the contrary. Unlike Ulan, the new arrival wore a purple fur jacket with a hood. The face underneath had the same qualities, but somehow softer. It was also only 2/3 the size of Ulan. Somehow, he knew this was a female. He’d never seen a Lumar female before. Other mercs joked that there weren’t any, that Lumar were grown in Mercenary Guild vats.

“I cannot allow this,” the new arrival said.

“Allow what, Yanow?” Ifka asked. “Allow Ulan to execute the contract?”

“No, allow you to send my clan to its doom. Minus the combined arms the Humans provided with their CASPer powered armor, the Zuul and Pushtal will kill all the males.” She turned and patted Ulan on his shoulder. “It’s okay, my love, no fight.”

“It okay, Yanow, we fight.”

“No. Not this time.”

“Okay.” Ulan shrugged and turned to leave.

“I will not allow you to do this,” Ifka insisted. “I’ll take your bond. You’ll never work as a merc again, not even another shitty garrison contract like this.”

“Garrison contract?” Niss asked. Ifka shot the Aku a withering glare, but Yanow replied immediately, ignoring the Zuparti.

“Yes, this is a garrison contract. Big Strong Fist exclusively does garrison.”

“You cannot compel a garrison contract to do a frontal assault. It is specifically forbidden under Section 2 of the guild codes for legitimate use of a mercenary force in the face of opposition.” Niss turned his head toward Yanow. “Unless there is a rider?”

“No riders,” she replied immediately. “I never authorize riders on our contracts.”

“Then you lack standing for such an order to Big Strong Fist,” Niss said to Ifka, waving his head in what seemed very much like Ulan’s shrug.

“Looks like you have a problem,” Alan said to Ifka. “The Zuul and Pushtal will eventually realize you don’t have the forces for another assault, and they’ll be coming.”

Ifka suddenly had a more familiar expression on a Zuparti face—fear. She looked back and forth, beady eyes flickering around as she appeared to be trying to think of a way out.

“But there is a solution.”

“What?” Ifka asked suspiciously. “You want more money?”

“No,” Alan said. “I’ve had it with working for you. You’ve cost Silent Night enough already. No, I was thinking of a solution without fighting.”

Alan explained his idea, his attention on Anderle, the female Lumar, the Aku, and his children. In a manner of minutes, Ifka, hovering around the edges, went from suspicion, to outrage, to denial, and eventually to resignation as she realized how limited her options were. By the end, Alan was grinning.

Score one for the logical apes from Earth.

* * *

Veska composed the message as carefully as she’d ever done anything, up to and including placing the most finicky of hair-trigger bombs. She couldn’t speak plainly and risk having the Vergola or Pushtal overhear, in case they moved to intercept before her people were ready. Nor could she assume the captain would simply trust her. Calling the assault back in the middle of battle was more than she could have hoped for, and—

“It’s sent?” Rex asked, hovering close behind her. He couldn’t read Zuul, nor did he know her clan’s codes, but the nearness of such a male kept a mostly-pleasant tension between her shoulders regardless.

“I want to be sure it says as much as I can say,” she replied, her nose twitching as she breathed in his scent. “Enough that at least she will agree to talk to us.”

“Their contract is invalid as well.” Rex growled in frustration and resumed pacing in the small cube of an office Anderle had given them. The group had discussed what information Veska would convey, but it didn’t require eight of them to oversee. Nor could she be unattended, as she was still, technically, an enemy combatant.

So, with a great deal of elbowing and snorting from his siblings, Rex was detached to ‘oversee’ her. As she considered her words once more before sending, she flicked an ear back, swiveling it to follow Rex. She wondered if his approach to sex had been colored by Human mores, which then made her wonder what Human mores were, for the first time in her life.

“I believe the captain will appreciate that, as well as confirmation of who you are. The combination should overcome any worry she has, in terms of where her debt of honor is owed.”

“Is honor what drives Zuul?” He stopped pacing abruptly, and she felt the mood tilt.

Knowing she couldn’t make the message any better or clearer, she sent it, then turned on the Human stool to regard him.

“Many things drive Zuul, as I