Full Metal Heroine: A Military Space Opera Adventure (Lady Hellgate Book 2)

by Greg Dragon

  Helga stared at him then, fighting the urge to avert her gaze. It was always hard to look at him, she respected him so much, and she knew that as sharp as he was, he would pick up on the feelings hidden within her eyes.

  He was in good spirits, and she wasn’t sure why. The forest had been miserable, and the swamp even worse. Even here there was a thickness to the air that sent off alarms in her skull, but Cilas Mec was laughing and he couldn’t be anymore handsome.

  “You know, you missed your calling as a psych doc, Cilas. You’re a great ESO, but the way you read people, it’s pretty amazing.”

  “Keep blowing exhaust up my thruster. You think that I can’t pick up on the sarcasm. Keep that up and I may let Wolf have you. Ray and I will tie you up and leave you behind in this swamp.”

  “Just the two of you? I’d like to see you try, Rend,” she said, dragging out his callsign, knowing that it would annoy him.

  “You’re such a little schtill,” he finally said, and then glanced up at the tower. “Wait, I have an idea.” He touched the foot of one of the statues, and then struck it hard and drew back his hand. “That’s what I thought,” he said and then started up the leg. Erosion and vandalism had damaged the stone and gave the lieutenant hand and footholds to ease his ascent.

  Helga watched him for a time before pulling out her pistol and scanning the tree line. She could make out Raileo setting out the tracker sticks, but within twenty minutes he had worked his way to the far side of the tower. Her mind drifted back to Lamia Brafa, the Jumper that accompanied her and Cilas on the mission to Dyn.

  She didn’t know why she thought of Lamia, but she was thinking of his sword, a rune-faced, black alien weapon which he wielded like a god. On this mission Lamia would have told them to wait in the village, and then he would track down Wolf himself and be back within the week. There could never be another Lamia Brafa, and that thought made Helga want to cry.

  A noise from above brought her out of her thoughts, and she glanced up to see Cilas sitting on the giant’s shoulder. He waved down at her. “Come on up, Nighthawk. There’s room up here for all of us with a perfect view of the area.”

  “Climb that thing?”

  “It’s an order, Ate. Don’t tell me the mighty Hellgate is afraid of heights?”

  That last jab did it, and Helga twisted her lips. There was a difference between being in the cockpit of a machine and climbing up a rock face with no support. But he was calling her out now, goading her to comply, and the use of her callsign so mockingly made her want to get up there to prove him wrong.

  Helga holstered her weapon and started the climb. She was small, so some of the grips took a real effort to reach. “Do you think these statues were real people who they honored?” she said as she gained the ledge and pulled herself over.

  “Possibly, but this is an alien planet. I was thinking that they could be actual giants who became petrified with some sort of device.”

  Helga wanted to believe he was joking, but with Cilas she never knew. “Where do you see yourself in about five years, Rend?”

  Cilas threw his head back and bellowed a genuine belly laugh.

  “Is it really an unreasonable question?”

  “Yeah, it is actually. As an ESO, the whole five-year thing really isn’t part of our reality. If I live that long then I hope to be doing the same thing, getting my hands dirty with the things that have to be done. I’ve been lucky, Helga, and when you’re lucky, you have to consider that you were put here for a reason. We both come from schtill, so I can be honest with you about my feelings. Had I not gotten in to the cadet academy, I’d be bleeding out somewhere in the back alleys of a hub. But I got in, and I hit the ground sprinting, so don’t expect me to slow down anytime soon.”

  Helga was shocked Cilas had spoken, and it sounded as if this was something that he had given some thought to. Sure, he didn’t want to admit to her that he contemplated his future, but his answer was so fast that it almost seemed rehearsed.

  “Come on Lieutenant, what are you doing? I asked about your future and you spoke about the past. Here, I’ll try since I came from schtill, quoting you now.” She playfully jabbed him in the arm. “I would like to be part of a squadron doing bomb runs on Geral.”

  “Really?” he said, giving her a skeptical look. “That’s your grand plan, more suicide missions?”

  “Suicide, no. Who said anything about suicide? I’m looking to a future where for once we put the lizards on the run. For whole lifetimes we’ve been off our home planet, floating around in our starships, barely surviving extinction. The Geralos are parasites yes, but in a way, Cilas, so are we. What can the human race honestly say we’ve contributed in the last 100 years?

  “We’ve asked for help and received it, from our Meluvian and Casanian friends, but with no planet with which to trade with them, we’re just that friend who always needs help. In my hope for the future we’ll take the fight to the lizard’s home. This will force them to defend, and that is when we’ll start to win.”

  “That’s really cute, Helga,” Cilas said and then stared forward into the distance. “Your heart is in the right place, as it should be, considering everything you’ve given up for the Alliance, but nothing that you’re saying to me is any different from what our leaders want. In five years, Helga Ate will be on the bridge of the Rendron. This is my prediction, you’ll be on the path to captaincy. If I’m not dead or a prisoner of war, then I will likely be grounded. Men like me, ESOs who make it past the six-year life expectancy, we’re given a desk to hide behind and a boatload of credits to occupy our time.”

  “As good as you are Cilas, why would they ground you? That doesn’t make any sense.”

  “I’m being facetious, but that’s the rumor, nonetheless. ESOs learn too much on our missions for the Alliance to allow us to retire. It is why people go into BLAST thinking it’s the best path to becoming an admiral. Most captains in Anstractor had roots that go back to BLAST, though only a handful of them were really Special Forces. We get intimate with the lizards down here in the schtill, and anyone who survives that gains the DNA that our beloved Alliance seems to want. They don’t want simulation cadets whose daddies paid for them to get a rank. They want Helga Ates and Cilas Mecs, because we fight this war up close.”

  “So, if I assume that you will be the next captain of the Rendron, it wouldn’t be that far-fetched, now would it?” Helga said, beaming.

  Cilas sighed. “Not that far-fetched, but a lot would need to happen, including the retirement of our very young captain, Retzo Sho. Not going to happen, by the way. The captain lives and breathes this war the same way we do. Heh, give him an excuse and I bet you he’d jump back into his PAS suit. The questions he asks, Helga, when he pulls me in for a debrief … he wants every single detail. It’s as if he wants to imagine that he’s one of us. Anyway, he’d have to retire, or die-maker forbid, and then I would have had to be commander of a smaller vessel-”

  “Just last year when you made that traitorous schtill, Lang, eat his gun, you were commander of the Inginus, remember?” Helga reminded him.

  “I doubt that those few hours of command would count, Ate, but yeah, if that’s my fate then I wouldn’t call it far-fetched.”

  “Do you want to be captain?”

  “How about we change this conversation? It sounds too close to treason for us to discuss this with Retzo Sho alive and well.”

  “Okay, so what about the Inginus? What if the captain has it repaired and names you the commander?”

  “That would make you team leader of the Nighthawks. Is that what you want?” Cilas said.

  “No,” Helga said quickly. “I’m dealing with enough without the pressure of other people’s lives on my hands. If it were up to me, I’d be flying, where my only concern is the mission and keeping my own life. Leadership is meant for those special freaks like you, Lieutenant. You can be tortured, betrayed, come close to death, and still come out walking upright. I
t’s what I admire most about you, it’s as if you’re not really human. If I were in your shoes right now … I don’t know, I’d probably cry myself to sleep every night.”

  “Who says I don’t?” Cilas whispered, then scanned the treetops when a dead limb fell. “I have those low moments, you know, where you’re just paralyzed by your own mind, and sometimes it’s easier to just let it in, let you remember how much of a wicked thype you really are. Owning my schtill is what I have done to cope, Helga, and I never told you to do it because honestly, I don’t know if that would work for you. Every week I visit the shrine on deck F, where I meditate on all the things I have done. I can do that, and it doesn’t destroy me, but I am just as human as you or Ray.”

  “I appreciate you saying that,” Helga whispered.

  “Which part?”

  “The part where you called me human.”

  18

  Helga didn’t know what to say, but this was the most conversation she’d pulled out of Cilas since the months they were stuck together with Brise Sol inside of an escape pod. Whenever Brise would spacewalk to pass the time, they would have deep talks, but mostly it was him, teaching. He was older than her by rank, experience and years, but here, now, up on the shoulders of this giant, Cilas was being funny and talkative.

  The suppressed feelings of attraction flooded her resolve, and she found herself staring into his light brown eyes. Where was Raileo? It felt like an eternity since the two of them had climbed up and started talking, and she could feel the electricity from where her left leg sat atop his.

  She had placed it there on accident, but let it stay due to the conversation. But Cilas hadn’t bothered to move it either, and that set off the charge that put a fire inside of her abdomen.

  They were so close up here, and he kept looking at her hair, which made her wonder if she was reading this wrong. She had shaved her head since the Dyn mission in a desperate attempt to reclaim her identity. Shaving the head forced everyone to acknowledge the fact that she wasn’t just a Vestalian spacer, she was part Casanian.

  “Why do you keep looking at me like that?” Helga said. “Is there something on my face?”

  “No, well, yeah, well not on your face, but—”

  “Maker, Cilas, can you just tell me? Schtill, you act as if you just met me or something,” she said, looking around desperately, as if a mirror would magically appear.

  “It’s your spots, Ate, they are really pronounced. You’re the only Casanian I’ve met, so I just don’t know if it’s considered rude to tell you.”

  Helga reached up and touched her temples to see if she could feel the spots on her scalp. Her hair was growing back, so it was hard to feel anything other than that, so she touched her cheeks and worked her fingers down, and she could feel the disks raised on her skin.

  “I’m your only Casanian friend, Cilas? Try being one and not knowing what the thype this is. Add it to the list, I’m falling apart. Every day it’s something new, and at this point, if I wake up with one of my limbs missing, I really won’t be surprised.”

  “It’s not that bad,” he said, looking around before reaching out to place his thumb against her temple. His fingers went inside of the mohawk and rested on the back of her head, anchoring his hand in such a way to allow his thumb to massage that area.

  “Do you feel it?”

  “I do,” he whispered, but she noticed that his fingers lingered longer than she anticipated. His other hand came up, and he was holding her face up towards him. A warmth came over her entire body, and her feet shuffled nervously in anticipation of what was to come.

  Will he kiss me now? she wondered, frozen, not wanting to assume his intentions. His hands were rough, but gentle, and she reached out and touched his hips. To anyone looking at them it would not have seemed intimate, but more like a ritual shared between two believers. They were seated in front of one another, legs interlocked, with hands on head and hips, Helga with her eyes closed.

  She bit her bottom lip. It was going to happen now, and she shuddered in anticipation, her heart beating so rapidly that it threatened to take her consciousness. Oh, for planet’s sake, Cilas, kiss me already, she thought, shivering now, frozen, waiting to feel his lips.

  There was a noise in the distance and they quickly removed their hands. Cilas was blinking rapidly, as if he too was recovering from the contact, and then he stood up quickly to scan the area below them. It was over now. Someone or something had broken their connection, and now there was an awkwardness between them.

  Raileo Lei pulled himself up next to them and Helga exhaled a shuddering sigh. She looked out at the horizon, trying to calm herself. Good thing I wore my jacket, she thought, feeling the soreness of her nipples against the tight tank top she wore below it. This is a good thing, she reminded herself. She and Cilas crossing the line would make her a terrible friend to Joy Valance.

  “Now that you’re back, Ray,” Cilas said. “I am going to contact Rendron. But when I’m finished, we will need to move in case someone intercepts the message. This is a good spot. We have the advantage over any would-be recon. You all just hang tight for a bit and make some noise if you see Tutt.”

  With that he walked to the back of the ledge, which was only about two meters deep. It was a sort of hidden porch from the days when the tower had been functional. Above it were branches from a few trees that were planted and survived on the statue’s shoulder. Opposite them, embedded in the tower’s wall, was a door leading to the inside.

  Raileo seemed so exhausted that he laid on the floor and closed his eyes. “Hey, Lei, why don’t you get some rest?” Helga said. “I’m going to have a peep inside that tower, but then I’ll be back out to look out for Tutt.”

  The young man agreed and slipped closer to the trunk of one of the trees, where he placed his back against it and rested his head on top of his knees. Helga smiled. She liked her two new teammates, and was more than sure that Cilas would make them official by the time they were on the way back. Then they would need to recruit a couple more ESOs to be back on track with the Rendron’s covert operations.

  She stood up, dusted off her bum, and allowed her eyes to meet Cilas’s, who was now in his helmet talking to the Rendron. He didn’t avert his gaze, and she wondered if she was alone in feeling awkward about earlier. She found herself suddenly frightened at the thought that Cilas was committed to whatever was between them.

  It was too much for her to take. There needed to be focus or she would slip, and slipping could get her killed, and for what? A crush on her team leader? She broke the gaze to try the door and was surprised when it opened easily. Unlike the large doors below with the complex locking mechanism, this one was just wooden, and fastened to the wall by hinges.

  Helga raised the pistol and stepped into the darkness and stopped. She waited for a time to allow her eyes to adjust. Light fought a losing battle to the black, since its violation was unwanted, and it spilled in through the cracks of the ancient walls and through a corroded patterned glass that comprised the tower’s ceiling.

  Helga saw that she was perched on the top of a tall, spiraling staircase leading down to a large cathedral. The Meluvian government that was responsible for this region would not be happy to learn that they had been at this sacred site, much less entering the temple itself.

  The sight of it left her dumbfounded as she imagined hundreds of people seated on the bottom floor, worshiping. When she scanned the room, she noticed that a third colossus supported the stairs. She wish she’d taken a flobot to record the marvel of the place, but all she had was a pistol and an erratic heart due to Cilas.

  “Contact,” she heard Raileo announce, and she ran back up the stairs. When she pushed open the door, she saw both he and Cilas aiming their guns at an area in the trees that didn’t look any different from the rest. Following their lead, she aimed her weapon, and that was when she saw the brush sway where there was no wind.

  “I know what I saw,” Rail
eo whispered. “Someone is there. Made it past my traps somehow.” There was a piercing cry, like an animal, some sort of bird, and then she saw the young Nighthawk lower his pistol. “It’s Tutt,” he said quietly, and Cilas confirmed with a nod.

  “Come on up, Nighthawk,” he called to the trees, and the big man emerged into the clearing. Helga blinked and rubbed her eyes because it appeared as if the forest had actually shifted and took on the shape of Quentin Tutt. She was a boomer, raised in space, with enough training for interplanetary warfare to allow her to be effective on a mission such as this, but Quentin was on another level, due to his past life as a planet-busting recon specialist.

  His clothes had been altered to carry branches, brush, and leaves, and his skin was smeared with the greenish brown mud from the swamp they had traversed. She knew it was him from his gait, but he was a monster, part man and part tree.

  This strange creature he had become walked over to the statue and began scaling it. He did this effortlessly, showcasing more of the talents from his past, and before Helga knew it, he was on the ledge, swaying tiredly as he stood in front of them.

  “We’re heading into a hornet’s nest,” he managed to say before Raileo cleared an area and beckoned him to sit.

  “Thank you,” he said, taking the canteen that Helga offered him. “There’s a town up ahead, primitive but very impressive. It’s built into this valley, deep, and hidden away from anyone spying from space or via satellite. They’re using shield technology to throw off the government from finding it, Lieutenant. The shields throw up images of treetops mirrored from the surrounding forest. I only managed to find it because I was on foot, following this young scout as he cut a path all the way back to his comrades within their walls. They have something going on, some sort of coup, and I believe that the people behind it are the MLF.”