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

my reports to my ship and forwarded it to the Paku, but certain pieces go no further without need.”

“You are as shrewd as the Pushtal are gullible.”

Nillab gave a little bow of her head as she left. Fak’l turned to his assistant, who’d entered as soon as the flyer landed.

“Your orders?”

“Have my security detail watch the Zuul closely,” he commanded.

“And the Pushtal?”

“Assign someone to be sure they are preparing to leave, but I think we’ve pulled their claws.” He nodded to himself as the assistant left. “It is an acceptable outcome.”

Two hours later, Fak’l entered the large vehicle bay to find the Zuul mercenaries standing in formation. Captain Nillab put a hand to her chest in their race’s salute as he entered. He nodded in reply.

Though Fak’l had sent an inquiry to the one sent to verify the Pushtal were preparing to leave before coming here, there had been no reply. Doubtless his assistant didn’t want to make it too obvious that the Pushtal were being monitored.

Fak’l glided over to Nillab and held out a data chip. “Enclosed are the endorsed details of our separation, including credit authorization to cover your costs, as agreed.”

Nillab nodded and handed it to her XO. “Very well. We’re ready to go up to our ships. How long before the Engineers unlock the stargate?”

“Shouldn’t be more than a few hours,” Fak’l said. “They’ve acknowledged the terms. You can wait down here if you wish.”

“I don’t,” Nillab replied tersely. “Our business is complete.”

“As you wish.”

The Zuul had half turned away when the bay door opened, and Meesh strode in. He was wearing his combat armor, which the feline always seemed to be wearing, but this time it had various decorations.

“It would seem the Pushtal wishes to participate in our ritual,” Fak’l said, a hint of a smile on his features.

“They were mercenaries once,” Nillab said. “It might be best to indulge them.”

“It can only cost time,” Fak’l said, resigned. As the feline approached, he noted Meesh was carrying a large equipment bag over his shoulder. Probably his gear, packed and ready to go. But if he was in such a hurry to leave, why bother coming to the bay? He hadn’t transmitted an intent to participate in the formal ending of a contract he wasn’t legally party to.

“What can I do for you?” Fak’l asked as Meesh came to a stop.

“I’ve reconsidered the deal,” Meesh said with a straight face.

“Oh?” Fak’l asked. “What makes you think I was interested in negotiating with the hired help?”

“Who said anything about negotiating?” Meesh reached into the bag, pulled out Fak’l’s assistant’s severed head, and dropped it at the Vergola’s feet.

Fak’l followed the slow motion descent of the head, dripping with pinkish blood, in stunned horror. He looked up to demand what the Pushtal meant by this, only to see the streaking blur of Meesh’s arm come across. For a second, Fak’l thought the Pushtal had missed.

“Our business is at an end,” Meesh said, and Fak’l’s head fell off in the same slow drop as his assistant’s head.

* * *

Nillab began to bark an order. Before she could finish, Meesh’s other hand came up with a laser pistol and shot her in the chest. The Zuul jerked and fell with satisfying finality. “Entropy take you, filthy dog,” Meesh said and spat on the still falling body.

The assembled Zuul roared in rage and betrayal, many beginning to rush toward their fallen leader, others working to unlimber shoulder-slung weapons.

Meesh laughed, then roared, “Now!”

From the still-open bay door, dozens of Pushtal flooded in, weapons blazing, while others leaped in the low gravity to savage surprised Zuul. Pandemonium descended as Zuul were cut down like kits let loose in a koopo breeding den. It was a slaughter. Meesh tossed the bloody bag aside, holstered the weapon, and screeched a war cry as he leaped at the nearest Zuul, who’d just managed to kill a Pushtal gunner. He sank his teeth into the Zuul’s neck and ripped, sending bright red blood fountaining.

Now this is more like it, he thought as the hot blood flooded his mouth. The pistol was so anticlimactic compared to the satisfying feeling of beheading the Vergola scum. He hadn’t had the pleasure of killing all the others, either. He’d had to use a team of his best troopers to kill the other Vergola quickly and quietly. Shooting Nillab had been an act of expediency. He hadn’t wanted to risk giving the old Zuul warrior a chance to prove her legendary prowess in battle.

Pity, Meesh thought as he released the dead Zuul and looked for another victim. He was curious how those metallic teeth would serve in a real battle.

There were few targets left—the surprise attack had done its job—and his prized fighters were cleaning up the last of the Zuul.

“Skeesh, ensure the Humans are dead!” He stomped on the nearest body, wishing his lower claws were free rather than booted to make it more satisfying.

Skeesh’s answer started as an assent and ended as a ragged death cry.

Meesh whirled toward his offspring, only to see Skeesh drop, his throat a ragged ruin. How?

Behind his dying third, Nillab straightened. Her white fur was streaked with Zuul blood, and her face…her face was drenched in Pushtal blood. It dripped from her jaws, and Nillab spat a long strip of sinewy flesh at him.

Before he could so much as blink, she launched herself at him. Her weight staggered him backward, and a gleaming flash of metal just missed his muzzle as he shoved back. He squirmed and struggled to lift his arms, to get his curving claws between them, but she rolled them and snapped again.

He screamed as her teeth caught the edge of his eye and ripped, a pop of pressure signaling a worse injury than his