Black Guard, The (20 page)

The talks were convened two days later at the insistence of
the UF, with a hint that Suryah’s actions bordered on war. The meeting was held
in the administration building. I met Kelebek in her office and accompanied her
to the meeting.

"Gentlemen, this is Captain Sapir of the Black Guard.
I’ve invited her to give you the status of the prisoners," Kelebek said as
she sat.

"She’s a wanton killer—" A dark-skinned man
stood, pointing a finger at me. I laughed, interrupting his grandstanding.

"Thirty-one of the cowards surrendered without firing
a shot. They don’t have a scratch. They didn’t even get their uniforms dirty. I
expected two or three hundred of your elite troops. That would have been
interesting," I said. The UF delegation had two men and a woman. The men
were middle-aged, dressed in suits and ties—professional politicians. The
woman looked younger, mid-thirties, also dressed in a dark suit but with a
matching skirt and open-neck, white-silk blouse. She was sneering at me.

"Then we will send a thousand troops with air
support," she said.

"Interesting, Miss?"

"Haeckel," she said, still smirking.

"Well, Miss Haeckel, I believe the Captain in the Jax
cruiser orbiting this planet will consider that an act of war against the Jax.
In that case, those that survive the encounter with the Black Guard will return
to a stone age continent." I stared into her eyes. "Your twenty-first
century Earth technology won’t last as long as that bunch of amateurs you sent
against the Black Guard." I turned and left the room, smiling after the
door closed behind me. I didn’t know what Captain Blatt would do and it didn’t
matter. What mattered was what the UF delegation thought. I loved the book,
"The art of War." Although written thousands of years ago, Sun Tzu’s
wisdom was as valid today as then.

* * *

I stood with Imum Kelebek and General Zogby just outside
the empty Compound 7 where two Jax combat shuttles sat waiting to return us to
the Crouching Tiger.

"They jumped at my generous offer to return their people
and only gave token resistance to signing the written apology. I had thought
the Jax unreasonably expensive, but I was desperate. I was wrong about the Jax
and the cost." She gave a soft laugh. "I promise not to tell the UF
that you’re not the heartless, wanton killer they think you are. Thank you,
Captain Sapir. I believe you’ve given me a couple of years’ breathing
room."

I gave a small bow, and entered the shuttle. It had been a
good assignment—not one of my team had been killed, we fulfilled our contract
to the client’s satisfaction, and as a bonus thwarted an aggressor state. I
looked forward to returning home and seeing my sister.

A wave of contentment washed over me as I exited the
shuttle and saw Hada’s smiling face.

"Dragon Attali," I shouted when I saw the red
dragon on her collar, grabbed her around the waist and swung her in a circle.

"Thanks to you, sister. I was trying to please my
father, his dream for me. I love him, but you helped me realize I must pursue
my own dream, not his. Sounds strange since they appear the same, but
ironically, they are like night and day. Although they may end at similar
destinations, the paths are different." She held me by my shoulders and
gave me a puppy-dog look. "You have after-action leave coming… Will you
come with me to meet my parents? Please."

"How could I refuse that little girl lost look you’ve
been practicing all week?"

"Just a couple of days," she laughed and hooked
her arm in mine as we walked down to the officer level. "The rumors about
you at Faithful run the gamut. I’m not waiting for the formal review. You’re
going to give your dragon sister a detailed report."

"After dinner, I’m starved," I said, looking
forward to sitting up most of the night talking, snacking, and laughing like
young, carefree children.

* * *

I stood in the front row, at a relaxed attention with my Suryah team
to the right of me. In the rows behind us stood unassigned Guards and behind
them the present candidates. Dragon Tzadok, Hada, and several instructors sat
in chairs on the raised platform. Commander Wexler stood in front of the
microphone.

"This is a critique of the Jax
contract on the planet Faithful, which began on the tenth of Janus in the year
1159 of the Jax calendar," He began. "The assignment was unusual, in
that we were asked to guard prisoners—both unusual and suspicious. Captain
Sapir was able to determine our client had thought her adversary, the United Freelands,
would destroy the Guard and that would incite the Jax to seek retribution
against the UF, proving people will do many things they wouldn’t otherwise do
when under great stress. When she confessed her intention, Captain Sapir agreed
to continue the contract if the client would cooperate. The United Freeland did
attempt a rescue of their captives using overwhelming force, which the Black
Guard defeated without a single loss." He took a drink of water while
scanning the assembled troops.

"The lesson here is a
reinforcement of our basic training: you cannot know enough about your client
and those he comes in contact with. Because Captain Sapir was able to get the
client to be honest, she was able to prepare for the worst case scenario and
avoid a potential disaster." He laughed. "And she’s raised the bar on
our already high standards higher. At Lanzhou she told the army captain facing
five-to-one odds, ’I’m not going to let some want-to-be rebels demonstrate to
the universe that the Jax can be beaten by rabble with a piffling ten-to-one
odds,’ which the army is repeating rather frequently lately. At Faithful, the
UF negotiators threatened they would send a thousand troops with air support
against the Black Guard. Captain Sapir told them, ’few would survive the
encounter with the Black Guard to return home.’ The irony is that people are
becoming reluctant to test us. It’s a weapon we can and should use."

* * *

"I’m excited, Rivka." Hada shook my arm to get my
attention. We had been traveling for over eight hours. First on the shuttle
service the Guard ran from Sasser Mountain to the city of Cordo, then public
air transportation to Avivo, and now a skimmer to the other side of the city
where her parents owned a small clothing store and temple devoted to teaching
old-Earth Tibetan Buddhism. Unlike the flat land surrounding Hadera where I
grew up, Avivo was located in the foothills of a mountain range. The architecture
was different, and I found the sights fascinating.

"I’m looking forward to meeting him. You’ve talked
about him so often over the years I feel I know him, although I couldn’t
recognize him if I saw him," I said, not sure what to expect from this
visit. I hoped it was all Hada wanted. Years could color our perceptions,
especially those of a six-year-old child.

"It’s been so long… And I was so young," Hada
murmured, mirroring my thoughts. The skimmer settled down at a taxi-pad near a
narrow street filled with mostly white two and three-story houses made with
yellow and white brick. That would have been dreary except for the elaborate
red, blue, and gold trim surrounding the windows, doors, and roofs. We made our
way down the street, receiving smiles and bows but strangely not the stares I
would have expected, since we were in uniform.

"They don’t seem surprised. Do they see lots of
military here?" I asked when my curiosity finally overcame me.

"They are mostly Buddhist in this part of town…
actually most of this city. They tend to be a happy people content with a
simple life. They see us as people, not soldiers or strangers or portents of
something bad," Hada said, dropping a coin in the wooden bowl a young man
dressed in a yellow robe was holding. But before I could ask she shouted,
"There, Rivka, my parents’ house."

It was a beautiful, square, two-story building made of a
yellowish-brick. The door and windows were surrounded by black frames, and the
windows outlined in red with a blue head piece and colorful inscriptions. A
gold-colored roof covered a porch with a blue and red railing, which was centered
over the front door. Maroon brick, about a meter wide, formed a border just
below the roof-line.

Hada stood looking up at the house for a long time, her
eyes moist. "It’s just like I remember." Then she walked up to the
door and knocked. A girl about Hada’s height answered the door.

"Hada’s home!" she shouted, grabbing her in a hug
and dragging her into the house, while waving me in. Soon a small middle-aged
woman, another younger woman, and a well-built middle-aged man joined us. I
stood back as they exchanged hugs and kisses.

"Everyone, my adopted sister, Rivka," Hada said,
pointing in my direction. To my astonishment, they all turned towards me and
bowed. I bowed back.

"Excuse us, Dragon Rivka, it has been a long time
since we have seen our daughter and Lui and Mei their sister. I’m Jian and my
wife, Daiyu. You are welcome as our adopted daughter."

"Thank you and I understand. It has been many years,
and you and Hada have much to catch up." I said, content to wait and
watch. The discussions went on late into the night as Hada talked about her
experiences and answered the many questions. Her younger sister, Lui, was
interested in everything, Mei less so although happy to see Hada. The love in
her father and mother’s eyes was unmistakable. Hada had been right. Her parents
had not selected her to go because she was the least wanted. They loved her. I
was content with my life… But I couldn’t help feeling sad for that little girl
who had never known that love.

* * *

It was a fun week, and I was included in all the activities
like a fourth sister or daughter. When I showed an interest, Jian spent a
considerable amount of time discussing Buddhism. Ironically, it seemed close to
the requirement for attaining dragon in the Guard, except Buddhists were
against killing anything.

"Yes, Rivka, that was the hardest part for me in the
Guard. Killing is against one of the five main Precepts—not to take the
life of anything living. The best I could do was to avoid killing whenever the
other person wasn’t trying to kill me or a client or could be subdued without
lethal force. Though I must admit, I’m at peace now that I no longer have to
make those decisions." He was quiet for a long time. "I’ve come to
the conclusion as I grow older and hopefully wiser, those of us in the Jax
military live in accordance with the Buddhist Percepts so long as we do not
kill out of hate or glory or pleasure."

I laughed quietly. "I understand why you chose Hada
and gave her the dragon dream. Buddhism strives to attain happiness in this
life through peace of mind. That’s exactly what is necessary to attain dragon
in the Guard, and you thought Hada was the most likely to achieve it." As
I talked, he nodded softly. "I owe you my thanks for giving me a sister I
love and a religion worth following."

* * *

The entire family walked us back to the taxi-skimmer pad
the last day. They had made me feel like a real daughter and sister by the end
of our week’s leave. Everyone gave me hugs and kisses.

"Rivka, you are welcome in our home as our daughter
anytime you wish to visit or stay," Jian said and Daiyu gave me another
hug.

"I would like that. Thank you," I choked out,
tears in my eyes, as I followed Hada into the taxi.

"You have a lovely family, Hada," I said as the
taxi raced across the city. "I’m glad you dragged me along."

"They’re your family now. They all loved you, and I
see my father is trying to convert you to Buddhism," she said, pointing to
the book I had sitting on my lap.

"After hours talking with him, I think Buddhism may be
a religion I could believe in, so I thought I’d like to learn more about it.
Ironically, dragons seek a similar peace to the Buddhists. Maybe that was his
real dream for you, Hada," I said, my eyes unfocused in thought. Hada gave
me a hug.

"A dream we shall pursue together."

I was sorry to leave Avivo but was glad to be back to
Sasser Mountain, which had become my home and life—one I’d come to love.
Part of each day was devoted to staying mentally and physically sharp. That
meant time at the shooting range with every weapon, bouts with whoever was
available, reading the most recent action reports as well as reviewing old
ones, and conducting training exercises with those Guards not currently on
assignment. And working with Hada on the whip, in which she had taken a renewed
interest after hearing me describe my experience with it. Consequently, the days
were full, and I loved every minute of every day, particularly when Hada was on
station with me.

I spent time each evening reading the books Jian had given
me on Buddhism but hadn’t reached any conclusions. I actually agreed with the
four Noble Truths, the Noble Eightfold Path which was the foundation of
Buddhism, and the moral code given in the five Precepts—using Jian’s
modification of the first Precepts about not killing a living thing. But I
still hadn’t formed an opinion about wrathful deities, prayer wheels, mandalas,
or Tara. Were they symbols to focus one’s actions or just crutches?

* * *

"Captain Sapir, Captain
Attali
, Commander Wexler would like
to see you," Corporal Dorn, his aide, said as he carefully approached Hada
and me. He had found us in our usual meditation place on the side of the
mountain. Today the swirling wind created a mist blowing in our direction.
Although it had my uniform damp and my hair plastered to my head, it created a
strange feeling of being between worlds as described in the Tibetan Book of the
Dead.

I rose, feeling relaxed and refreshed and along with Hada
followed Dorn back to Wexler’s office where Dobrin and Tzadok sat waiting.

Wexler shook his head when he saw us. "Sit. I have an
assignment which is nontraditional and therefore best suited for a dragon. My
problem is not only that the situation is nontraditional, but because of its
high profile client, it will attract galaxy attention on the Black Guard and… Each
of you makes me nervous in a different way. It’s giving me a blinding
headache."

"Put the numbers between one and twelve on a sheet of
paper and have us each select three sheets. Roll two dice, add the numbers on
the dice, and the person with the matching number gets the assignment,"
Dorbin said, smiling.

"Thank you, Dragon Dorbin. That would be random, but
it wouldn’t relieve me of the responsibility and most likely it would make me
worry more, knowing I took the coward’s way out." He took a drink from his
glass of red wine while glaring at each of us in turn.

"What’s the assignment?" Tzadok asked.
"Maybe we can help you decide."

"That’s why you’re here." Wexler frowned.
"Captain Gasparo has long been sought by the Halo Thirty Alliance, HTA, for
acts of piracy, murder, and other felonies too long to list. He has always
maintained he’s a mercenary and acted under the direction of legitimate planet
governments. A few weeks ago the HTA Navy captured him, quite by accident. He
is being brought to Halo, the capital of the alliance, and will be tried by the
Supreme Tribunal. Captain Gasparo has his supporters among the alliance and
enemies. There are groups who would like to have him killed, who want him to
stand trial, and who would like to help him escape. Halo feels its military is
normally capable of protecting high security prisoners, but because Gasparo is
such a controversial individual and emotions on all sides are so explosive, they
think it would be better if an outside group provided his security."

"In other words, they aren’t sure they can trust their
troops," Dorbin said, grinning.

"Or they don’t want their own troops killed protecting
him," Hada said, frowning.

Wexler nodded. "What makes it worse is that he must be
transported to and from the tribunal building and guarded during an open
trial."

"No wonder you have a headache," Dorbin
interjected. He had been with the Guard for over fifteen years, and while he
respected Wexler and his position, he wasn’t afraid to express his opinion.
"It’s a win-win situation if an outside group is responsible for Gasparo’s
security. The council can take the credit if everything goes right. If not, they
can blame the outside group, and if the outside group is the Black Guard, no
one can accuse them of not hiring the best."

I agreed. Lanzhou and Faithful had been good examples that
there was more than one reason to hire the Jax. The Jax could provide cover for
political schemes and a way to avoid responsibility.

"Exactly, Dorbin. Although no one expects the Guard to
be perfect, the murder of a high-profile person like Gasparo would be viewed
differently—as an inability to protect important people in critical
situations. It would be a major blow to the Guard’s reputation, could impact
future contracts, and might taint other Jax units."

"I guess it won’t help if the Dragon-in-charge dies in
the process." Tzadok gave a wry laugh. "Or you hang him if he lives
through the assassination."

"No, you know as well as I do, our clients don’t care
about us. Our reputation is judged only by the final result," Wexler said,
taking another drink.

"Sounds like a job for Sapir. She’s had practice
guarding prisoners," Tzadox said, grinning at me.

"Does that mean you don’t want the assignment,
Tzadox?" Wexler snorted. "Sapir’s last assignment was guarding
prisoners but the situations are not the same. Faithful didn’t care if the
prisoners died. Halo, on the other hand, would like Gasparo to stand trial. You
are all eligible for this assignment. My dilemma is finding the one I’ll feel
the most comfortable sending." He stared at each of us for several minutes
before continuing. "Why don’t each of you explain what you see as the
solution to protecting Gasparo. Send it to me via your Mfi." He sighed and
sat back with his eyes closed, like a huge weight had been lifted off his
shoulders.

I saw only one solution, so I typed it on my Mfi and sent
it to him. His eyes jerked open when his Mfi alerted him to a message. He
scanned my message and leaned back again with eyes closed. I did the same. The
final decision was Wexler’s, not mine, and I didn’t care one way or the other.
The fourth time he looked at his Mfi, some fifteen minutes later, he nodded and
sat up straight in his chair.

"It’s as I suspected. Judging from your vague
responses, none of you know what you would do until you get to
Halo—typical dragons, unpredictable. Although Sapir is not only vague but
arrogant…" he said and all heads turned towards me like I carried a sign
with the reason on it. "And that’s been apparent from her previous assignments."

Realizing my mouth was hanging open, I closed it wondering
if it had something to do with tradition and duty, or complaints I was unaware
of. It didn’t matter. I did what seemed right at the time, and although I
wished I had been smarter, I had done the best I could.

"And that attitude is in large part responsible for our
growing reputation as the Black Guard rather than the Jax Guard. Each time she
has in one way or another asserted the Black Guard was in command. At Lanzhou
she forced her client to stay with her detail against his will. In Malova she
killed the Prince’s personal body guards and had him agree her detail was in
charge. In New Keif she ignored the Colonel in charge and chose to conduct her
own independent operation. And on Faithful she convinced the client to defer to
her approach."

"How do you get away with that, Sapir?" Tzadox
asked. Before I could decide how to answer, Wexler interrupted.

"She tells them she can’t protect them otherwise, in
which case she will leave. I’m not sure if the committee would like us leaving,
but it’s been a very effective approach." Wexler snorted. "That, by
the way, is her approach for this assignment—the Black Guard is
exclusively in charge of prison, transportation, and trial security."

"I like it," Dorbin said, smiling at me.

"Me too," Hada and Tzadox said simultaneously.

"I’m afraid each of you will eventually come to the
same conclusion as our nonstandard contracts evolve. Sapir’s assignments and
her unorthodox approach to tradition and duty dictate that response. It’s now
her style. And if we are going to adopt it as the Black Guard’s standard, it’s
something better done up front. So Captain Sapir, the assignment is yours. Meet
with me tomorrow morning, and we will discuss the details."

* * *

"How did it go?" Hada asked when I exited Wexler’s
office building. I shrugged.

"We reworked the contract. It now states explicitly
that the Black Guard is in sole command of Gasparo’s security, including all
guards assigned to protect the prison, transportation, court house and other
structures he’s in," I said. The session had been intense. Wexler had
insisted on going over each of my assignments, questioned each of my decisions,
and grilled me on the client responses before revising the contract. I could
tell it wasn’t the way he would have approached this contract and he was not sold
on my approach, but he had acquiesced based on my past results and wanted to ensure
I had everything I needed to succeed. I wouldn’t doubt he secretly hoped the
HTA would refuse to agree with our terms and end what he considered a nightmare
contract.

"I don’t envy you, Rivka. There seems to be more at
stake than normal."

"For Commander Wexler. To me, it’s just another
assignment—keep the client alive without getting any of my team
killed."

"You’re right, Dragon Sapir. Commander Wexler has his
responsibilities, and we have ours. Worrying about his, or our client’s, will
only distract us from doing ours."

* * *

Lost in my thoughts as I was, the shuttle to the War Horse
seemed to take only minutes. On board, a lieutenant I didn’t recognize from
last time met me and escorted me to Colonel Wolfson’s office. The colonel stood
as I entered, and I bowed. His bulldog face looked the same as when I first met
him on my trip to Lanzhou. He smiled and waved me to his sidebar.

"Help yourself, Captain Sapir. I hear your name
mentioned a lot lately, linked with the term ’Black Guard’ and ’piffling ten to
one odds.’" He laughed. "If you have time, I’d like you and your
lieutenant to join me and my staff for dinner tomorrow night. I’ve heard
rumors, actually several versions, of the events at New Keif and Faithful, but
I’d like to hear what really happened. It sounded exciting."

"Like all history, I guess. Much more exciting in the
telling than in the doing," I said, my mind flashing back to the dying and
killing.

"Yes, an exciting tale over a couple of drinks,"
Wolfson nodded sagely. "Not so exciting at the time, when friends and
comrades are dying around you."

"And they are following your orders," I said with
mixed emotions. I felt painfully responsible for each death because they
occurred following my orders, yet I hoped my differentiating tradition from
duty saved lives that a more traditional approach wouldn’t have.

* * * *

The dinner felt like a Jax family get-together. Captain
Drezner and his two lieutenants where there along with Lieutenant Elijah. We
shared our experiences at New Keif and Faithful and had a lengthy discussion
around tradition and duty. Like Wexler, Wolfson was uncomfortable separating
them.

"I’ve always felt separating the two bordered on
cowardliness, like you were more concerned about yourself than the contract.
Yet, you and your team have a deadly reputation, the black now referring to ’lethal’
rather than your uniforms. A reputation well earned, I may add," Wolfson
said, raising his glass to Elijah and me. "But it scares me to think of
other commanders trying to separate the two. As I’m sure Commander Wexler has
told you, if you separate the two and fail, the worlds will see you as a coward,
and you will pay the price."

* * *

To my surprise, Colonel Wolfson met me at the shuttles as
we prepared to leave for Halo. "Watch your back, Sapir. Half the Alliance
thinks Gasparo is a blood-thirsty pirate who should be hung, but the other half
thinks him a hero who should be set free. That’s why he has managed to survive
for so long, although he has been on Halo’s most wanted list for over ten
years. They only caught him by accident. He had gone alone to negotiate a contract,
and while he was planet-side, two HTA cruisers showed up on a routine patrol.
They attacked his cruiser, which wasn’t ready for combat with most of the crew
in town, and captured him when he returned on his shuttle, unaware his cruiser
was under HTA navy control."

"Guard rules one through ten, Colonel, trust no
one," I said, bowed, and prepared to enter the shuttle. He laughed
good-naturedly and returned to the bow. The shuttle gave me a good view of
Halo, a modern city with hundreds of giant finger-like buildings reaching into
the low hanging clouds, many with skimmer-taxi pads. Our shuttles were directed
to a landing area at a military installation. When I exited, a silver-haired,
broad-shouldered man dressed in the white uniform of the Halo Special Security
forces met me. Judging by his epaulets, he was a senior colonel. His eyes
evaluated me as he approached.