The Fringe Wars

4.1

Tipping Point

Rebus Station, Terra

The five blue-skinned Myrads quickened their pace as they made for their hotel in Rebus Station.

Nannette, one of the two women in the group, threw a hurried glance over her shoulder. "There's another one back there now. They're definitely following us."

"Quit looking back," Edmun said. "They're probably just drunk and looking for an excuse to pick a fight." While he spoke, he scrolled through the functions on his wrist comm and tapped the Emergency icon.

After several seconds, a comm tech's face appeared on the small screen. "Emergency services. How may I assist you, Citizen Edmun Strand?"

"We're being followed by some colonists," Edmun said. "Can you send help?"

"I have a squad of dromadiers three blocks from your location. I am sending them your locator ID now. They should be there within two minutes."

Edmun let out a breath. "Thank you." He scanned his group, giving them a reassuring nod. "You hear that? They'll be here in no time."

The group didn't slow down, and neither did the three colonists following them. Four more colonists emerged around the corner ahead, walking straight toward the Myrads.

Edmun slowed and then abruptly cut to the right, taking his group off the sidewalk to cross the street.

"They're all following us," Nannette said, her voice a couple octaves higher than normal.

Yet another group of colonists emerged from an alley across the street. Edmun froze, then spun around to see himself and his friends trapped in the middle of the street as the groups converged around them.

"Let me handle this," Edmun announced to his friends, all of whom were wide-eyed and stiff with fear. He turned to face the colonists and held out his hands in a non-threatening manner. "Listen, we don't want any trouble. We're with the Citizens Against Hunger Program. CAHP is a humanitarian group. We're here to help you."

"Ha!" One of the colonists stepped forward. He was dirty, and his hair looked like it'd gone years without a cut. He was dressed, like his compatriots, in frayed brown clothes and an oversized, heavy canvas coat. "We wouldn't be hungry if it wasn't for you citizens taking half our food and ninety percent of our income."

The ice in the leader's glare brought chills across Edmun's skin. He swallowed. "If you need credits, we don't have much, but we'll give you what we can."

"Can you make the droms leave us alone?"

"The Collective Unified Forces exists to protect everyone in the system," Edmun said, hoping the CUF's dromadiers would be there soon to rescue them.

"Bullshit. All they do is beat us and take our kids." The leader opened his coat and pulled out a rifle. "The Collective taking everything of ours stops today."

Gasps and whimpers came from Edmun's group. He felt a trickle of sweat roll down his face. The weapon wasn't a photon gun—it was something much older—but he knew it was likely just as deadly.

The group of colonists had moved to form a V in Edmun's line of sight. With the area behind him now opened, his first instinct was to turn and sprint away. Maybe that was what the colonists wanted—to watch citizens turn tail and run. But he was a Myrad, and Myrads weren't mongrels that ran at the first sign of danger. He inhaled deeply to tamp down his fear. The droms would be here any second. All Edmun had to do was buy his group time. "Listen," he began. "You don't want to do this. They'll throw you in prison for twenty years if you hurt a citizen. Take our credits. If that's not enough, I have a ship at the docks—"

The leader raised his rifle.

"No!" Nannette cried out.

The man fired. A loud blast echoed off the building walls around them.

Someone screamed.

Edmun felt an incredible pressure in his chest. He looked down to see a dark stain. He lifted a hand to the spreading stain and numbly discovered a puncture wound just above his heart. The pain hit him then, excruciating agony that dropped him to his knees. He tried to suck in a breath but couldn't find any air. Panic took control. He gasped, but his inhalations never reached his lungs.

Around him, a cacophony of gunfire erupted. He wanted to scream for help, but his mouth filled with tangy liquid. He coughed and sputtered for only a moment before everything faded into floating darkness.