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bad?”

“Come again?” Taylor asked.

“Not to be a heartless bastard or anything, but what’s done is done, where the Hawks are concerned,” Rex said. “Finding the aliens responsible won’t bring any of Torrio’s people back from the grave, nor will it get your company paid. So why get involved?”

Taylor shifted on his stool. “Not all the survivors came back from Emza. We have reason to believe some of them were taken prisoner—Paulie included.”

The Bostonian’s expression paled. “Holy Mary, mother of God.”

“Yeah,” Taylor said quietly.

“Ahem,” Normitt cleared his throat. “Don’t hold me to this, because I’ve never seen one in person. But I think this a KzSha.”

“A what?” Taylor asked.

“A KzSha,” the Jivool repeated.

Rex snapped his fingers. “Wait a second, I think he’s right.”

Taylor faced the bartender.

“I had a pair of Dutya freighters in here a while back, killin’ time on a layover out at the starport.” Rex cringed. “Slimy bastards, those slugs. They also reeked worse than Norm here and were total assholes to my waitresses.”

The Jivool rankled, wrinkling his nostrils.

“Sorry, pal,” Rex said. “Anyway, these goons prattled on for most of the night about some bigtime payday they’d just scored, courtesy of an insectoid group out in the Jesc arm. They called them the KzSha, and based on the way the Dutya described them, these aliens could be the ones who jumped the River Hawks.”

Taylor fidgeted with his bar napkin and considered the story. “I appreciate the insight, Rex, but the Galactic Union is filled with insectoid species. What makes you think these KzSha are the species we’re after?”

Rex glanced around to make sure no one else was in earshot. “That bigtime payday the Dutya were gloatin’ about? It involved slaves.”

Taylor wrinkled his nose.

“As I understand it, that’s how the KzSha make their living,” Rex said. “They’re slave traffickers, have been for decades. They’re apparently very good at their occupation, too, especially the inventory procurement part. That’s why there aren’t that many people who know for sure what they look like. Anonymity keeps them protected against reprisals—and the Peacemakers, for that matter.”

Taylor rubbed his temples. “That’s interesting. I’ll have to run that by my contact back at Jax Memorial and see what he has to say.”

“Your contact?” Rex raised an eyebrow.

“Torrio’s XO was among the survivors who came back from Emza,” Taylor said. “He’s the one who tipped us off to the KzSha involvement.”

Rex’s gaze narrowed. “You know who he is, right? Torrio’s XO?”

Taylor nodded.

“You be careful around that one, T,” Rex said. “I don’t know Michael Genovese personally, but I do know the family. They’re bad news, brother. Real bad.”

“I appreciate the concern, but I’m on it,” Taylor said. “Back to these Dutya you served. Are they still around?”

“I don’t think so, no,” Rex said. “They blew through town about two nights ago en route to Piquaw for their next job. After that, I don’t know where they’re headed.”

“Did they say when they were scheduled to transition out through the stargate?” Taylor asked.

“The next morning, I think,” Rex said. “That would’ve been yesterday.”

They’re still in hyperspace. Taylor slammed down the last of his beer and got to his feet. “Thanks for the time, fellas. As always, I’m grateful.”

“Anytime,” Rex said beside Normitt. “Watch your ass out there, T. I mean it. If what the Dutya said is true, these KzSha are not to be screwed with.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Taylor doffed his cap to the other regulars, then exited the bar, and keyed his pinplant comm en route to his Harley across the parking lot. “Frank, it’s me. I think I know who attacked the River Hawks. They’re called the KzSha.”

“Never heard of them,” Frank said.

“Round up what’s left of the crew and prep the Osyrys for launch,” Taylor said. “We’re going to Piquaw.”

“What about Genovese?” Frank asked.

Taylor chewed his lip as he strapped on his helmet. “Paulie’s XO is the only one who’s seen these aliens in action. Ex-mob or not, we can’t afford not to have access to that intel when and if we cross paths with these things. Genovese goes. We’ll just have to keep an eye on him.”

“Ayew,” Frank said with a clear note of hesitation. “I’ll make the call.”

* * * * *

Part Two

Chapter 8: Piquaw

The Osyrys emerged in the Piquaw system a little over a week later, carrying scarcely more than a skeleton crew, since most of their company had deployed with Billy on the Duplato contract. That left Taylor with parts of Talbot and Atlantic Companies to work with—about 85 troops with hardware—plus Frank and the Farts comprising his slimmed down command staff.

“What, no welcome wagon?” Frank asked from nav station once the scene in the main Tri-V had returned to stars. Like the others, he was still dressed in civilian attire, since the Eagles weren’t there on official business.

“Minor systems like Piquaw don’t typically have an emergence control facility,” Jack said from tactical. “You’ll have to get closer to the planet for traffic control to pick us up.”

Frank ported over a batch of scans from Smitty’s vacant science station and looked them over. “You sure about that? I don’t see anything in orbit. Nothin’ freighter sized, anyway. There’s a small orbital transfer station, but so far as I can tell, there’s not much there, either.”

“Take a look at their starports,” Taylor said as the planet drew nearer in the Tri-V. “It’s a decent bet our Dutya friends are already here and on the ground. See if you can find where they put down.”

“Looking,” Frank said.

The radio crackled to life. “Osyrys, this is Piquaw Approach.”

Right on cue. Taylor cleared his throat. “Piquaw Approach, this is Osyrys. Go ahead.” He glanced to nav. “Gonna need some info real quick.”

“Cut me some slack,

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