Free Bird Rising

by Ian J. Malone

  “Pardon me, sirs, but doesn’t this raise a whole new batch of issues?” Smitty leaned forward. “According to astrometrics, the Osyrys’s projected transit time from surface launch to the stargate is three hours at best possible speed. That means the Krulig will see us coming, a revelation which I’m sure will prompt them to suspend all inbound traffic.”

  “She’s right,” Taylor said. “In order for this to work, the strike team will have to be docked and inside the admin station before Osyrys clears the Sanctuary.”

  Frank grimaced. “Three hours is a long time to be holed up in quarters as cramped as a stargate admin station.”

  “Indeed.” Valawn reclined in his seat. “But I may know someone who can help us.”

  Taylor raised an eyebrow.

  “Her name is Natona,” Valawn said. “She’s an RFC operative who works in the Krulig compound outside of Lyndu Colony. She routinely travels with their crews to the stargate.”

  “How exactly does she pull off that bit of magic?” Quint asked.

  “As was observed outside the checkpoint,” Valawn said, “the Krulig employ Rukori citizens for a number of menial tasks. That includes things like janitorial and servant duties on the stargate. It’s one less thing our masters must outsource to the Zuul.”

  “And you’re sure this person will help us?” Smitty asked, a note of skepticism in her voice.

  “Natona is one of my most trusted allies,” Valawn said. “If anyone can get a team aboard the stargate, it’s her. She will assist us. I guarantee it.”

  Taylor sat forward. “All right, then. Let’s run down the timeline. First, we launch a bandilaro from the surface and use it to draw the frigate out of range. While that’s happenin’, our strike team will infiltrate the Krulig compound outside of Nyo Colony and hop a shuttle to the stargate. Once aboard, the team will signal the Osyrys to launch, at which time this whole deal becomes a sprint to the finish whereby our strike team seizes the control room, the Osyrys returns to hyperspace, and chaos reigns supreme on the admin station, allowin’ our people to slip out to safety. That about sum things up?”

  Everyone nodded.

  “Excellent,” Taylor said. “Questions?”

  Smitty raised a hand. “Once we’re aboard the stargate, we’ll have to seize the command codes for the Osyrys to escape.”

  “Typically, the Krulig in charge has those,” Valawn said. “We’ll find him in the control room once we’re aboard. The trick, therefore, will be to seize said room before the Krulig can lock out the computers.”

  “Leave that to us,” Taylor said. “What else?”

  The RFC commander shifted awkwardly in his seat. “I have one. Alas, I’d rather not ask it, but regrettably I fear I must.”

  Taylor would’ve bet a paycheck he knew what was coming.

  “What assurances do my people have that the Eagles will return once you’ve escaped through the stargate?”

  “You wanna know if we intend to bolt and leave the Rukori high and dry,” Billy said.

  Valawn nodded. “I only raise this because, as you noted earlier, Chief Van Zant, this incarnation of Swamp Eagle Security is not the one that agreed to help us six years ago. You are in no way tied to us, and frankly that’s not much to go on when it comes to putting my operatives at this much risk.”

  Taylor had wholly expected that question. He was just happy it’d come at the end of the briefing, so he wouldn’t have to deal with the blowback from his answer. Sorry, Billy. “The Eagles will return as promised because they’ll want to pick up their commandin’ officer. I’ll be leadin’ the strike team, personally.”

  The XO rocketed forward amid a gaggle of confused looks. “Chief, I really don’t—”

  “The decision’s made, Captain,” Taylor said. “This is my call, and I’ve given it. Time to move on.”

  Jack coughed into his fist, while the XO settled down. “My apologies, sir, but we can’t allow you to do that.”

  Taylor shot the sergeant a sideways look.

  “Not alone, that is,” Jack added. “I didn’t know your brother, but I did know of his reputation. Terry Van Zant did a lot of good things for a lot of folks, and hear me when I say, that ain’t a trait you find much in our line of work.”

  “Damn straight,” Stan agreed.

  “Me and Stan never got the chance to work for Terry,” Jack said, “but we dang sure come here to work for you. As such, we’d kindly appreciate it if you’d let us watch your ass on this here operation.”

  Taylor studied the old men’s body language, rigid as it were. They ain’t takin’ no for an answer. He was honored. “You’re in.”

  “Deal me in, too,” Smitty said.

  Billy whirled. “Commander Smith, I’d rather—”

  “It’s done.” Smitty cut him off. “Like the fart said, we all came here to fly free with the Eagles, right? Isn’t that the old saying? Well, that includes me. Besides, somehow I doubt the Osyrys will have much need for a comms officer when she breaks orbit.” The Aussie turned to her boss. “Just tell me where you need me, Chief, and I’m there.”

  Taylor was quickly starting to understand why Ron Carnegie had hated to lose this woman. “Okay then. We have to assume that the Behemoth will spend minimal time on the other side, rallyin’ the troops. Per the RFC’s records, a round trip for these guys typically takes two transitions. That’s a hundred and seventy hours each way, minus the twelve they’ve already been gone. Tax, title, and all, that gives us thirteen days to prepare. Let’s get this right, y’all. Dismissed.”

  One by one, the group filed out of the conference room en route to their respective divisions. Not surprisingly, one staffer stayed behind.

  “What’s on your mind, Billy?” Taylor asked.

  The XO drummed his fingers on the table. “Permission to speak freely?”

  “I swear, man, if you ask me that again I’m gonna dock your pay.” Taylor feigned a chuckle but got a scowl in response.

  “That was a fargin shitty thing you just did,” Billy said, “keeping me in the dark about your plan to lead the gate team. I’m your executive officer, Taylor. I’m supposed to know these things before the crew does, so I can back you.”

  “And would you have backed me here if you’d known my intentions?”

  “Hell, no.” Billy snapped. “I’d have delayed church until we could reach a compromise.”

  Taylor folded his arms. “A wise man once told me that when entering a complex situation, I should always evaluate my strengths, weaknesses, opportunities, and threats, then leverage that information accordingly for best possible success.”

  Billy rolled his eyes.

  “You know I’m right, Brother,” Taylor said. “The fact is, I’ve got no experience leadin’ a starship into battle. Not yet, anyway. You, on the other hand, do, and that was on clear display when we emerged into this system. If the Osyrys lands in a fight with that frigate, she stands a better chance of makin’ it out with a seasoned officer in command than a twenty-three-year-old kid still learnin’ the ropes. Like you said, it ain’t complicated. It’s just good old common sense.”

  Billy muttered a curse. “So you think I’m more qualified to lead the Osyrys into combat. Fine. You still could’ve remained onboard and left the gate strike to Valawn. He’s got more experience than you, too, ya know.”

  “Sure, he does,” Taylor said. “And I’ll be leanin’ on that from the word go to come home alive.”

  “But why go at all?” Billy threw up his hands. “You’ve done your job, Taylor. You’ve agreed to bring the Rukori help. Why hang yourself out there to be stranded with them?”

  Taylor chewed his lip. “A Van Zant made these folks a promise.”

  “Yeah, but that Van Zant wasn’t you. It was Terry, and believe me when I say that for all his strengths, your brother was no stranger to writing checks with his mouth that his ass couldn’t cash.”

  Taylor heaved a sigh. “One man’s word is his family’s bond. That’s the way
our daddy raised us—all of us. I can’t break from that now. I won’t break from that now. I also won’t put the crew of this ship in jeopardy to honor my upbringin’. All I ask is that you follow my orders, and if things go sideways, you tell my family what happened. Start with Rita. She’s tough. She’ll handle the others.”

  “I’d prefer to not have to tell her anything at all,” Billy said.

  “Same here,” Taylor said. “Hence why I want you to get home, recruit the meanest pack of redneck SOBs on the block, then high tail it back here to bail my ass out of the fire.”

  Billy didn’t bite on his CO’s attempt at levity.

  Taylor didn’t blame him. Billy had never spoken of it, but Taylor had always known of his XO’s lasting unease over the way his first stint with the Eagles had ended. It wasn’t fair what had happened, and no one who’d understood the situation had blamed Billy for leaving. That still didn’t change the fact that, in doing so, the XO had walked out on a lot of folks who’d called him friend, most of whom weren’t around anymore to mend fences.

  That ain’t on you, Brother, and neither is this. Taylor debated saying something, but decided it best that he stay quiet.

  “Friggin’ Van Zants,” Billy grumbled. “I swear, man. Never in all my days have I ever met a more stubborn tribe of people.”

  Taylor grinned. “It’s all part of our charm. We good?”

  Billy exhaled. “Yeah, Chief. We’re good.”

  “Fantastic.” Taylor got to his feet “Now that that’s settled, what do you say we head down to mess hall. I skipped breakfast earlier, and honestly I could go for a topper on coffee.”

  * * * * *

  Chapter 12: Let’s Make a Deal

  The next ten days were a whirlwind of planning as every member of the Osyrys crew went about preparing for the operation to come. For Taylor, that meant teaming with Valawn to pick the rest of their team, then assemble their strategy for reaching the stargate control room undetected.

  On the eve of the operation’s launch, Taylor wrapped his final repairs meeting with Keeto then returned to his cabin to clean up for supper. Ordinarily, that wouldn’t have been a big deal, since most of their meals were pretty basic. That night, however, Frank had taken over the galley to create some sort of gourmet concoction, the likes of which Taylor couldn’t begin to pronounce. He just knew it was French, and the Buma had even gone so far as to set a dress code for the occasion.

  Dress code, my ass. If there was anything Taylor despised more than being shot at, it was wearing a tie. As such, he’d planned to exercise his right as CO and compromise with jeans without any holes and a Swamp Eagle Security golf shirt. He did, however, plan to tuck in said shirt, which, by his standards, was a big damn deal.

  Now where did I put that belt? Taylor had just slipped on his boots when someone knocked at the entrance to his cabin. “Just a second.”

  Another knock.

  Damn, persistent much? Taylor got to his feet and pulled his hair into a ponytail en route to the door.

  “Hi,” Lisa said from the corridor outside.

  “Hey.” Taylor could’ve sworn he’d meant to speak actual words beyond that one, but it never happened.

  Lisa blinked. “Can I come in or what?”

  Still speechless, Taylor stepped back and motioned her inside.

  Gone were the frayed jeans, worn sneakers, and all-around casual attire that typically defined the Jax reporter’s appearance. Per Frank’s mandate, those had been replaced by stylish heels, a sleek silver pendent, and an elegant blue evening dress that would’ve killed in Cocktail Junction.

  I, um…. Taylor snapped to his senses and cleared his throat. “What can I do for you, Lisa?”

  “We need to talk,” Lisa said.

  “About what?” Taylor asked.

  Lisa brushed back a strand of her autumn-brown hair and examined the room’s décor. They included a framed portrait of Taylor’s family and a signed poster of the Generals’ first World Series team. She smiled at the latter. “I remember that squad. Game Seven fell on the night of my eleventh birthday party. My mom got pissed with me and my dad because we kept ducking out on my guests to check the score.”

  Taylor pocketed his hands. “It almost sounds like you were a Generals fan.”

  “Are you kidding?” Lisa scoffed. “They were playing the Cardinals, I’d have rooted for scurvy that night if I’d had to.”

  Taylor chuckled.

  “Say…” Lisa returned to face him, “you got anything to drink around here?”

  Taylor found himself puzzled by that request, but he rolled with it. “I’ve got water and beer.”

  “What kind of beer?”

  “The free kind.”

  Lisa seemed to consider that. “Ah, why not? Gimme the beer.”

  Taylor crossed the floor to the small refrigerator by his nightstand and came back with two bottles of ice-cold beer. He popped the tops on both and handed one over.

  “Long Branch Light.” Lisa frowned at the label. “You are a local.”

  “There’s always the water,” Taylor said.

  “Some might say that’s exactly what you just gave me.”

  Taylor cocked his head. “Does this little courtesy call come with actual questions, or did you just stop by to dump on my taste in alcohol?”

  Lisa took a pull off her Long Branch and winced. “I think we can both agree that, prior to now, I’ve respected your position and given you your space to work, right?”

  Taylor pondered her point. Aside from a brief spat with Smitty on day one, Lisa hadn’t been a hindrance. Sure, she’d asked for some access here and there, plus the occasional interview, but nothing of real consequence. “Yeah, I think we’re in agreement there.”

  “Good,” Lisa said. “Now I need you to recognize something. I’ve got a job to do, too, and I can’t well do that if I’m confined to the Osyrys for the entirety of our time here.”

  Taylor scratched his whiskers. “That’s a fair point. I’ll talk to Valawn and see if I can get you some extra access to the RFC station.”

  “I don’t want more access to the RFC,” Lisa said. “I want to join the stargate mission.”

  Taylor almost choked on his beer. “I’m sorry?”

  “You heard me. By this time tomorrow, there’s gonna be a lot going on. I want to be there, in the trenches, watching it all happen so I can record it for my story.”

  Taylor wiped his mouth. “You do realize there’ll be plenty to document from right here on the ship, right? When Billy calls the ball to bring the Osyrys out of the Sanctuary, there’s gonna be plenty of fireworks.”

  “Maybe,” Lisa said. “Or there could be none at all after we launch. That’s the point of your little decoy trick, isn’t it? To pull the Zuul warship out of position so the Osyrys can break for the gate?”

  Taylor grunted and glugged at his beer. Somebody’s been talkin’ after church.

  “So, what do ya say?” Lisa asked. “Can you do me a solid and grant me this one request or what?”

  Taylor shook his head. “Out of the question.”

  “Ah, come on, Taylor,” Lisa protested. “Read my file. This isn’t my first rodeo in a hot situation. I know what it’s like to be shot at.”

  “Do you also know what it’s like to be marooned on an alien world millions of light years from home?” Taylor’s look turned sideways. “Because that’s a very real possibility for everyone on this team if the Osyrys don’t make it back to pick us up.”

  Lisa stepped forward. “I’m prepared to take that risk.”

  Of course you are. Taylor rubbed his forehead. “Why are you so hellbent on makin’ this happen?”

  “You do understand I’m a reporter, right? This is kinda what we do?”

  Taylor smirked a reply.

  “Fine.” Lisa pled her case by recounting all that had transpired, along with the revelation that other worlds existed besides those made public by the Cartography Guild. She then concluded with her best p
oint yet. “Don’t tell me your brother’s accident hasn’t been on your mind lately.”

  Don’t answer that.

  “I can get you those answers, Taylor,” Lisa said. “With everything I’ve learned here, I guarantee you my editor will sign off on an investigative piece. Once that happens, we’ll blow this thing wide open. I promise.”

  Taylor scoffed aloud, his first instinct being to tell the reporter how utterly full of crap she was. But then he caught himself staring at her, or rather her body language. Squared shoulders, stuff lip, tight fists. He considered. This is personal for her somehow. “Why do you want this so badly?”

  Lisa furrowed her eyebrows. “I thought I was pretty clear on that. This is a huge story, and I’m—”

  “I understand why the Times wants the story,” Taylor said. “I want to know why you want this story, so much so that you’re willin’ to put your life on the line to get it.”

  Lisa collapsed onto the bedside and ran her fingers through her hair. “I wasn’t entirely honest with you about how I came to Jax. I didn’t leave Houston because of a transfer. I left because the Chronicle fired me.”

  Taylor held quiet while she explained.

  “I’d been working a story for the better part of two months about a rogue element inside Astro Industries that was working both sides of the Zuparti conflict in the Jesc Arm. On the record, Astro was under contract with the Zuparti to lend aid where needed. Off the record, my source said they were arming the Zuparti’s enemy to force a rider onto their contract and jack up their earnings.”

  Taylor vaguely recalled the events. “I take it you published the story.”

  Lisa nodded. “Turns out my source wasn’t as reliable as she’d let on. Astro wasn’t double-dipping at all. To the contrary, they were following the terms of their contract to the letter.”

  “I’m guessin’ that didn’t jibe with the Zuparti,” Taylor said.

  Lisa shook her head. “They filed a grievance with the Mercenary Guild as soon as my story hit the GalNet and requested that their contract be terminated. The Guild complied, of course, thus prompting Astro to file suit against the Chronicle, seeking millions in damages for lost revenue. By the time the saga ended, the paper had settled out of court, and I’d been booted out on my ass with a newfound understanding of the word blacklisted.”