Polaris Rising (Consortium Rebellion, #1)

“Ready?” he asked. When I nodded he continued, “There are mercs literally everywhere once we get to the main part of town. Keep your hood up and stick to me. You’re dressed like them, so as long as you don’t do something stupid, they won’t pay any attention to you.”

This wasn’t my first rodeo. I had long ago perfected the walk that made me just another downtrodden worker bee who was absolutely uninteresting. It was a move that, done correctly, made you invisible in plain sight.

“Let’s go get me a com.”





Chapter 7




Loch opened the door then ushered me into the cold twilight. The wind still howled through the streets, but the cloak blocked the worst of it. For the first time since we’d arrived, I was outside and not freezing. Hallelujah.

We walked toward sunset for ten minutes before I saw signs of life. A few buildings had lights and a shadow moved behind one of the windows. Another five minutes and we were skirting around the edge of the central commercial district, such as it was.

Enough people were on the street that we didn’t stand out, but a bustling city this was not. Nearly everyone was on foot and thankfully, many were cloaked and hooded against the cold. At least our hidden faces wouldn’t be cause for suspicion.

I mentally mapped our path in case Loch and I were separated. The com should be doing the same thing, but coms could be lost or stolen. As the number of people increased, I dropped back to trail along behind Loch’s right shoulder. Wearing men’s clothes, cloaked, and with my hair covered, I would pass for a junior merc tagging along with his captain.

The streets got dirtier and the buildings shabbier as we kept going. Even the plastech buildings, which I had thought were basically indestructible, were worn and mudded over with clay bricks. Men with darting eyes slunk through the alleys and a few brave women shivered in high hemlines and plunging necklines.

Loch must’ve been gone this morning for longer than I thought. Either that or he had an innate sense that led him directly to the shadiest of shady districts.

We turned down an alley that stank of urine and worse. A lanky man several centimeters shorter than Loch detached himself from the wall and stepped into our path. He was younger than me but old enough to know better. A smirk twisted what would be a moderately handsome face into something cold and cruel.

“See here,” he said, “this is my alley. And I charge a toll for its use.” Another man, bigger, older, and stronger, stepped out behind us. I half turned so I faced both threats. “A hundred credits each and you can be on your way,” the young man said.

“Move,” Loch said. He seemed completely unconcerned.

“Oh, we’ve got a tough one here, Vance,” the young man said to the bruiser behind us. “What do we do with tough ones?”

“We break their knees, boss,” Vance said. He brandished a half-meter length of pipe in his meaty hands.

Vance would be slow but devastating if he landed a blow. The “boss” would be sneaky and underhanded but would probably break down in a true physical fight. I drew my knife and kept it hidden under the cloak. I didn’t know what Loch’s plan was, but I doubted he’d turn over the credits.

“Do you know what I do to young upstarts who try to shake me down for money?” Loch asked as he rolled his shoulders and cracked his neck. His tone was terrifying and I was on his side.

Unfortunately for the young upstart, Loch didn’t wait for an answer. In an incredible flash of speed he spun and punched Vance in the throat, then took his pipe and swung it with sickening force at the young man’s torso.

Vance went down with heaving gasps and the young man crumpled at Loch’s feet. Loch picked him up by the neck. “New deal,” Loch said. “I won’t kill you and you’ll crawl back under whatever rock you came from. Try any revenge bullshit, though, and it’ll be the last thing you do. Understand?”

The young man muttered something that might have been assent.

“What was that?” Loch asked with a shake.

“I understand!”

Loch dropped him on the ground. “Let’s move,” he said. He stalked off, and I followed without comment.

Once I was sure we were alone, I closed the distance between us. “I’m not sure that was wise,” I said. “We need to be invisible, to be overlooked. You put a target on us.”

“Sweetheart,” Loch drawled, “I’ve been running from mercs for far longer than you’ve been slumming it. If I want to know what fork to use at a Consortium dinner, I’ll ask you. If we’re dealing with mercenaries, I’ll handle it.”

I clenched the hilt of the knife and told myself I absolutely, positively was not going to bash Marcus Loch in the head with it. But I imagined it. Oh, I imagined it with great relish. One of these days I was going to take the cocky bastard down a peg or two or twenty and he was going to deserve every second of it.



The fence’s shop was behind an unmarked door in an unmarked alley. We were let into an empty room where Marcus had a quiet conversation with an older woman. After a few minutes we were led through a series of rooms and passageways until I was positive we had left the original building.

Twenty minutes of mind-numbing twists and turns later, we entered the shop. I had a fairly good idea of where we were but wouldn’t be able to confirm until we were outside.

The shop looked like any high-end boutique in the ’verse, with glass counters protecting the valuable merchandise and everything else displayed on shelves. The only difference was that everything of value was placed on cloth rolls or cloth sacks for easy grab-and-go convenience. Portability was essential when the law came to call.

A tall, slender woman with warm brown skin, long black hair, and round, rose-colored spectacles stood behind the far counter. Several guards were scattered around. Clearly the fence didn’t want her own goods stolen.

I started by looking at the knives. I’d dealt with fences before and you never wanted to tip your hand too early. Most of the knives were mediocre combat blades but a nice little stiletto dagger caught my eye. My younger sister Catarina would love it.

I worked my way halfway around the room, spending time looking at things I had no intention of buying. When I got to the com units, I saw that they only had one option that was going to work for me.

The shopkeeper wandered closer, smelling blood. “Do you need a new com?” she asked. Her voice was soft and melodious. I bet she’d talked many a person into spending extra money with that voice.

“Perhaps,” I said. “Do you have anything decent?”

Her lips tipped up in a small smile. “Ah, a woman,” she said. “Women get discounts in my shop. I am Veronica. And to answer your question, yes, I have many decent things, but if you’re looking for the best, this is it. This com just arrived yesterday.”

She pulled out the exact com I knew I needed. It was a top-of-the-line House von Hasenberg model very much like the one I’d left behind on the space station. In fact, there was a chance it was the one I’d left behind.

“May I see it?”

“Of course,” Veronica said. She pulled it out, powered it up, and handed it over. Device locked to Maria Franco was the only thing shown on the screen.

Well, I’ll be damned.

“It seems it is locked,” I said. “And therefore useless.”

Veronica waved her hands. “It is a small matter to unlock it,” she said.

I didn’t have to fake my dubious look. If she could unlock this device then I would hire her for the House on the spot. “How much?”

“Five thousand credits,” she said.

I laughed. Even new it hadn’t cost that much. “I will give you two thousand if you can unlock it. Otherwise, I will give you two hundred because trying to unlock it might be an interesting challenge. But most likely it will end up a paperweight.”

“You give me too little credit,” she said. “Thirty-five hundred if I can unlock it in the next five minutes, otherwise seven-fifty locked.”

“Three thousand unlocked or five hundred locked,” I countered. “Plus, I will see what other things I might want to purchase from your lovely shop.”

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