Kevin McLaughlin
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Paladin 2: Chapter 6
🕑 Added 2026-01-02 00:34:15 +0000 UTCTristan enjoyed the thought of Kira spending time in the pool as he rode the elevator back down to the tenth floor, where the main security office waited for him. She was a remarkable person, and while it had cost him some favors to make that happen, it felt more than worthwhile once he saw the look on her face. That was one woman who was stunningly difficult to surprise, and he'd managed. It felt like an accomplishment.
His earbud clicked as the elevator came to a stop. Then Kelly's voice came crackling over the radio. "Boss, we've got an issue."
He tapped his comm to activate it. "What's up?"
"The presidential palace is under attack. Their security team is requesting we send a full tactical team to defend it. Sounds like they're taking some serious fire there! The report said the attackers had assault rifles and body armor.”
Well, shit, so much for the easy and laid back night he'd had in mind. Tristan slammed his hand on the elevator controls, ordering the machine to rise to the rooftop without stopping. He had their combat shuttle parked there in case of emergencies.
"I'm on my way to the roof now. Get the rest of the team there and ready to go. Leave Lieutenant Jameson in charge of security for this site. He can handle it while we're gone. Could use you on pilot duty, though." Jameson was a local, but he was competent enough to keep things in order while they handled whatever this was.
An attack on the palace was just weird. There hadn’t been any major warnings of unrest lately, and even if the locals got mad, they generally let it out with a riot, not a coordinated strike on the planetary president’s residence. Everything about this felt off, right down to the timing—when most of the city’s security forces were out patrolling the streets, looking for citizens getting drunk and rowdy.
They had few forces poised to fend off a major attack. Everyone was already out in the field, and loaded for drunk idiots, not enemies with assault rifles. His team was the best way to get a professional quick response force on the ground where it could do some good.
"Already on my way, boss," Kelly replied, then cut the connection.
The problem was his mercenary team was still woefully understaffed. He had two combat teams available. One guarded the Dauntless, which let him have the second one, his 'A team,' out doing other things. The plan was for his tactical squad to be on site at the Government Center for the duration of the festivities this evening, but that was before there was an attack elsewhere.
The city had plenty of additional security forces, but they were basically cops. Well-armed cops, and some of them were even well-trained, but they still weren't soldiers and didn't have the background to deal with any sort of major assault. If they wanted actual troops, the city had to go begging the mining corporations to rent them a security detail, and that wasn't cheap or fast.
That's how Tristan got the job in the first place. He was cheaper and less embarrassing than asking SilverLode or one of the other mining consortiums for assistance. Those corps already had enormous power on Percival, and anything the local government could do to eke back some independence was seen as a positive, even if it cost them a little more dough.
The elevator snapped open on the roof and Tristan sprinted for the shuttle. He was able to move fast when he wanted to. He couldn't dash like Kira, but he was faster than any unaugmented human.
Thinking of her made Tristan consider calling on Kira for backup. She'd been a huge asset when Jordan was kidnapped, and she seemed to enjoy the work. But no; she'd turned away from his offer of a job before. He got the feeling all she really wanted out of life just then was some peace and quiet, and if her background had involved as much combat and killing as her mods and skills seemed to suggest, she'd probably earned it.
Besides, it was bloody unlikely there was anything on this dustball so tough his team couldn't handle it.
The door opened as he ran up, letting him inside the ship. He climbed aboard and looked around. It seemed like the whole team was already here. "That was quick. We got everyone?"
"Gang's all here. We were all in the security office when the call came in, so we headed straight here," Mark told him, slapping the hatch to close it. The shuttle took off while the hatch was still closing. The building dropped away below them as they cruised higher and picked up speed.
"What are we facing?" Tristan asked.
Mark turned to a display. "No camera feeds, weirdly enough. Whoever is attacking must have done something to mess with the surveillance systems. Security there reports two dozen armed people attacking using military grade hardware. These aren't light firearms. Sounds like they've got some heavy blasters and explosives."
"Awesome," Tristan replied, rolling his eyes as he grabbed chunks of body armor from the racks where they waited. The shuttle always held enough armor and weapons to gear up an entire heavy combat squad. Most of the team was already suited up.
"ETA two minutes," Kelly called from the cockpit. There was a pause, then she spoke again. "Boss, you might want to get up here."
Tristan finished bolting the chest armor into place and sighed. It was always a pain in the ass getting into the copilot's seat with armor on. He pushed his way through the narrow walkway into the rear of the cockpit and paused there.
"You need me sitting, or just my eyes?"
"Just your eyes, boss. I think you need to look at the presidential palace."
"What am I looking for?" Tristan asked. He gazed out through the windshield, trying to pick out the buildings she was talking about.
With all the talk about heavy weapons and a major attack, he expected to see smoke rising from damaged structures and the tell-tale flashes of blaster fire streaming back and forth. But there was nothing to see.
"Kelly, what am I looking at?" Tristan asked, phrasing it a little differently. "I don't see any fighting."
He wanted to ask if they were even heading the right way, but he knew better. Kelly was one of the best pilots he'd ever worked with. She always knew which way she was going. If she said she was flying toward the palace, that's where she would have the ship aimed.
Then he spotted the structure he was looking for. It was huge, pure white, and supported by Greek-style columns. The whole building was ridiculous and ostentatious. On a planet like Percival, it made little sense. It was well-made, sure, but it looked strange and out of place compared to the rest of the city's architecture, which lent itself more toward a brutalist vibe.
What he still wasn't seeing was any sign of an attack.
"Where's the attack?" Tristan asked.
"I don't know, boss. That's why I called you up here."
He wedged himself deeper into the cockpit, armor scraping against the walls as he struggled to get close enough to tap buttons on the copilot's console. It was a tight squeeze, but he managed to open a channel to the security office for the presidential palace by the time Kelly had the shuttle on final approach.
"Palace security, this is Dauntless Actual. We're almost to your location, responding to your call for help," Tristan said. "But we're not seeing your attackers. Can you confirm the location of the attack, over?"
There was a long pause. Far too many heartbeats went by before a voice came back over the shuttle's speakers.
"Uh, Dauntless Actual, what attack?"
Tristan groaned. Was the whole thing a hoax? It sounded like a kid on the other end of that line. Maybe he wasn't aware of the attack? It was always possible palace security had already managed to get it under control.
Kelly set the shuttle down just outside the main entrance. Behind him, Mark slammed the hatch release button and eight armored fighters rolled out of the shuttle, each one armed to the teeth. They formed a tight perimeter around the ship, watching for any signs of danger.
"Kelly, keep the engines warm. There's something weird going on here," Tristan said.
Then he slid himself back out of the cockpit and turned to find Mark there giving orders to another member of their crew, a younger team member named Amanda Young. He was giving her instructions about defending the shuttle. They always left someone behind to guard their ride, if they could.
"Mark, I've got a bad feeling about this," Tristan said. He snagged an assault rifle from the weapons rack.
"Hoax? Someone hacked the comm system to play a prank?" Mark asked.
"Maybe." Tristan hoped it was something that simple. If that was all they were up against, the city police could do the work of ferreting out whomever did the deed. He could get back to guarding the Government Center and the award banquet.
"You don't think so, though. Shit. So much for an easy evening. God damn it."
Tristan chuckled. "I could be wrong. It's happened before."
"When?" Mark challenged.
Tristan didn't rise to the bait, just shrugged and walked past Mark, down the gangway from the hatch. "Come on. Let's touch base with palace security and make sure everything is cool here. Then we get back to the other site ASAP."
A security team was rushing out through the front doors of the presidential palace, all heavily armed, and taking up defensive positions near the door. Tristan waved to them, then stepped forward. He very carefully kept his weapon slung over his shoulder, rather than at the ready. If he'd been in charge of guarding one of the more important buildings on the planet and a combat shuttle landed in the front yard, disgorging armed and armored troops, he'd be a little jumpy. And getting shot sucked.
"Drop the rifle! Drop it!" one of the palace security shouted from behind cover.
Crap, this was going to take longer than he wanted it to. Tristan waved his team back. They could keep him covered from near the shuttle easily enough. He laid the rifle down on the ground beside him and took a few steps closer to the palace guards.
"I'm Tristan Hawke. I work for city security, too," he said. "Look, we got a call you were under attack here so we motored to assist. It looks like that's not the case?"
"Only threat we've seen out here today has been you," the man replied. "Hawke, huh? Pretty sure we met at that summit last month, didn't we?"
Tristan nodded. "Sure did. Listen, my ID is with me here. I dropped my rifle. Come scan the ID, check my biometrics, and let's figure this out. Sorry to come in hot and surprise you, but we thought you had called us!"
The man shouldered his firearm and directed two of his men to come with him as security, then advanced toward Tristan.
"I'm Captain Louis. Where's the ID?"
"Left pocket, on my thigh," Tristan replied. He was busy keeping his hands visible and not moving much. There were still an awful lot of guns aimed his way, and he was still hoping to get through this without being shot.
But the whole thing worried him more than he wanted to admit.
His gut said they should get back in the shuttle and blast off now, head back to the Government Center and make sure everything was still good there. He couldn't do that without starting an actual firefight with these guys, though, and the last thing Tristan wanted was city security teams firing at each other. To avoid that meant waiting while these guys went through the steps to verify his identity and his story.
But the sooner they were back in that shuttle and on their way again, the better he would feel. Something weird was going on. It was his job to get to the bottom of it, and the sense of time flashing by way too fast was impossible to ignore.
