The Revenant: A Military Sci-Fi Series (Hunter's Moon Book 2)

by Walt Robillard

  The group regarded the beast sunning itself nearly one hundred meters away on top of a sand dune.

  “Good to hear you again, buddy!” Yu's voice came over the comm.

  Tolin interrupted. “Did I hear the murder mouth correctly? Did he say dragon?”

  Lasher took a moment to describe the creature watching them. Tolin responded academically, “That's a Nagarook. It's one of the most prolific hunters on Doseidos. Very intelligent, too.”

  “How intelligent?” Fluff asked.

  “He's probably trying to figure out how to eat all of you and steal the ship.”

  “They can do that? I want one!”

  Lasher patted the robo-cat on the shoulder. “You should go over there. Let him know you want him as a pet.”

  “I'm not taking Kel's job. He's the bait and you're the lion tamer.” Fluff retorted.

  “What does that make you?” Morpheus asked.

  “Smarter than both of them.”

  “Speaking of our favorite bait, did Kel and Kat make it aboard Flight-fifteen?” Lasher asked.

  Yu answered, “They did. Which means we've got to get up there in a hurry. We're on our way to you after we disable that merc's ship.”

  “We're coming with you, too,” Tarot said nonchalantly.

  “You've played your part. You can report back to whomever hired you with a job well done. Return the corporal to whatever life the lancers will let her have after what she did to them,” Lasher responded with a hint of compassion in his voice.

  Baby Doll dropped from the cloud cover at attack speed, aiming for the direction they had just escaped. Two missiles rotated from their housings to drop into empty sky. The cliffs on the horizon obscured the aerial combat so that all the group could see was the ship banking around. A series of explosions thundered beyond the curve of the landscape, exciting the Nagarook to display itself to its full height with wings unfurled. Doll's engines switched over to the repulsors, bringing the ship to them in a gentle glide after its strafing run on the Gun Wraith's craft.

  “See! He wants to come with us!” Fluff cackled.

  The Dreadmarr agent stepped between the mongrel and his view of the monster, “And so do we.”

  “One stray at a time, Fluff. Madame Tarot, why?”

  “Because while caring for this woman, they shot at us, too. Someone needs to answer for that.”

  “Fair enough. Even if Chen is dead?” Lasher wore his concern right up front.

  “Especially if she's dead.” Tarot's voice simmered on the verge of boiling over. “We want to send a message to the next one that if you shoot at us, we come for you and the one who takes your place.”

  “Right! Then we feed them to our dragon!” Fluff said with malicious delight.

  Nineteen

  “Tienshan Forest, this is the Raastrider recovery platform Brokkerand. We have you at distance on our scopes. Your ident codes and recovery permit are valid. Please state your reason for not advancing to dock?”

  “This is Work-Captain Phang. I have to report an attitude thruster failure on the port side. Seems we took some damage from orbital debris on our way out of Doseidos.”

  Venger watched the enormous station slowly rotate in front of their viewport. Easily accommodating many bulk freighters the size of the Forest, the traffic in its orbit was incredible. The mission control necessary to facilitate all of this traffic had to be fielded by entire teams of air traffic controllers run around the clock.

  “Do you require assistance, Forest?” the controller asked.

  “Negative, Brokkerand. We have already contacted a wrecker ship that is in route to fix the problem. If our current position is interfering with flight ops we can reposition.”

  “We're routing all traffic around you. Please stay in place. Notify us when the problem is cleared and you are free to dock.”

  “Thank you, Brokkerand. Forest out.” Phang cut the connection. He raised a hand to pull all of the attention of the command deck to him.

  “Time to rendezvous?” Venger asked.

  One of the techs at the tracking station pulled a headset away from his ear. “Six minutes to transition back to real space.”

  “Notify us upon their arrival. Prep the deck crews for cargo handling.” Phang ordered.

  One of the officers near the tracking stations went to work on a data-slate, assigning duties to the crews in one of the several hangar bays. She flitted through ghostly screens, passing them to the bridge crew who would route them to the appropriate work supervisor. Flicking a toggle switch on one of the main boards brought a new video onto her slate. Blast doors the length of a medium freighter slid apart revealing the hangar bay to empty space. Force shields kept the atmosphere on the inside and the hostile environment on the outside without hampering ships passing through to either. She signaled back to Work Captain Phang that everything was as he requested.

  “Well done, Work Captain. Please see to it that we remain on schedule We have a deadline to meet and we don't want to disappoint big sister,” Venger said, adjusting the sling on his arm.

  “We'll work tight and true, sir.”

  “As it should be in the Eternal Work, Captain Phang.”

  The halls of the Forest were cavernous. This ship was clearly meant for hundreds, if not thousands of crew. Deck lighting came on when people passed though, blinking out after they left. Hard resicarbon flooring covered in a sheet of rubberized black carbodex made for an easy walk with plenty of room for three to walk side by side. Even the plating on the walls spoke of this ship being crafted for function, not form.

  Katarina walked with purpose, shifting down one corridor until directed by her HUD to take another. Getting the map from the central computer hub had been easy. The AI that ran information systems on this tub had been overly chatty. Kat suspected that came from being designed to provide info to any who asked aboard a ship where no one ever did. According to the specs, most of the ship's systems had been automated or turned over to bots designed to act as crew.

  She wondered if the crew on the command deck were watching her through security systems that would flag her movement in a hallway that normally didn't see any, or whether she would be ignored. She hadn't seen anyone else after leaving the lift up to this floor. She’d expected to see someone this close to where the crew worked, but only the occasional bot marked her passing.

  She keyed the hand plate for the hatch, taking a step back when nearly colliding with a real flesh and blood person.

  “What are you doing here?” The tech berated.

  “Sorry.” Her voice came out with a digital reverberation from the helmet speakers. “Came up to patch into our shuttle. We had a flutter on the way in. Just need to check to see if it's the antenna array or a problem with the system itself.”

  “What shuttle would that be? And for the love of the ancestors, take off that helmet,” the annoyed technician said.

  Kat removed her helmet. “You want to tell me who you are?”

  “I'm the chief comm-systems operator. I asked you a question.”

  Kat decided to play things on the aggressive side. She grabbed him by his flight suit, slamming him into a wall. “You listen here you little radio-rat. I don't answer to you. I answer directly to the Work-Captain or my pilot. You want a little turf war? Go call Officer Huang on the Humming-Bird or the Work-Captain for what I'm doing here. I have an antenna to fix and I don't have time to waist on your attempts to boss people around.”

  She took the cell-com from her flight suit, keying into the open comm for the ship, bringing up Phang's name in big bold letters. “Here you go. Call him.”

  The radio officer shifted his gaze from the comm to her face and back again. He could call her bluff to verify her story, but if he was wrong, face possible reprimand from Phang. He could also let her in to the main communication's hub, risking she was up to no good which would yield the same results – although a beating here and now would be much more immediate. “My bad. Phang has me wound
tight during this part of the operation. As the XO he was all business. Now, as the captain he wants to make a big impression with Chen. Go do what you have to. Just try not to get in the way.”

  “Thank you, sir.” Kat smoothed out his collar followed by a friendly pat to his shoulder. There were a handful of other techs in the room monitoring a bevy of radio traffic. The station that seemed to hold the most interest was intercepting all broadcast chatter in the sector. It would be bad to be snuck up on or pummeled by a local security force. Although the Forest was a heavily armed ship, having the benefit of a warning meant being prepared for whatever might come their way.

  Kat sat down at one of the stations, triggering a tight beamed broadcast directly to the Humming-Bird. She could feel one of the techs watching her plug away at the console. They probably didn't get many visitors down here, making anyone other than a high level supervisor that showed up suspect.

  “Huang, it's me. I'm showing a forty-two percent loss in signal strength from the Bird. System shows the problem is most likely the antenna. Try putting in one of the new wiring harnesses we got from the surface.” As Kat waited, she slowly pivoted in her swivel chair. “Hi. What do you do here?”

  The technician she addressed made a face and turned back to her display.

  A wave of static filled Kat’s headset. “Can you hear me now?”

  “Better but still junky, especially at this range. Run a burst filter over the comm-gear.” Kat tapped the desk, spinning in her chair like a kid on an amusement ride.

  “Please don't do that,” said one of the techs.

  She raised her hands in apology then watched the wave form display on her screen go from flat and jagged to wavy and regular. “That does it. I'm on my way back to you.” She turned to the lead technician. “Thanks for the use of the station.”

  The woman who had chastised her for her swinging legs immediately checked the comm station Kat had been using. Either she was checking that the station hadn't been mishandled or they really didn't trust her, in which case, they were looking for signs of tampering. Running as a part of Chen's crew must also require that one's sense of trust be removed. That was not necessarily a bad thing.

  Kat replaced her helmet. “Kel. We good?”

  “Digital magic installed. Yes, ma'am. We should be able to broadcast back to the Baby Doll now through their system, and our filter should screen us from being picked up.”

  “It was worth the risk. They're running some serious black ops commo gear in there. They must have listening buoys and all types of high tech kit spread throughout the system so if a mouse farts they can hear it.”

  “Mouse farts?”

  “Shut up, Kel.”

  “There's something you don't hear every day!” another voice cut in.

  “Yu!” Kel exclaimed. “Great to hear you, buddy. We've been out of touch for a bit. Give us the low down.”

  “It wasn't the same without you,” a deeper voice said. “There was no one for us to laugh at as they screamed in terror at the slightest little thing.”

  “Great to hear you, too, Fluff. Good to know you haven't bitten off more than you could chew.”

  “Anything that wouldn't fit on the first bite will just have to wait for the second.” Fluff purred.

  Kel huffed into the radio, “Can someone without the attention span of a Khadian star-fly please tell me what's been going on.”

  “Kel, It's Orin. We tried to make it aboard the last shuttle, which from the sound of things was you. Didn't happen. They knew we were working the mine.”

  “I kind of figured you had to improvise since you weren't on with us and everyone came aboard screaming. Speaking of which, they got Swam-tech. Tons of it. They infected all the people we brought back. I think there might be entire loads of people on this boat that are Swarmed up.”

  Kat tapped into the call. “Orin, you have to find a way up here. They've already started their wounded bird scenario.”

  “We're on the way with some friends who wanted to tag along. We have a plan that should be able to get us aboard.”

  “Friends?” Kel asked.

  “I assume you met Lucifer?”

  “Oh! You're with that whole crew?” Kel realized. “Did they bring public enemy number one with you?”

  “Yes. Savoya is with us. I figured we could use a top notch slicer to help our top notch slicer, should he need it.”

  “I won't,” Tolin interrupted.

  “It's like a blaster,” Lasher hinted. “Better to have and not need. We obviously have the communications tunnel installed. How're we looking on the transfer protocol?”

  As Kat bounded out of an elevator, she confirmed, “Transfer worm is in place and ready to do its thing. When Raastrider makes the credit transfer to Chen, it should route through the ship, in which case, the worm will direct it to one of our accounts. What if they pay in hard credit?”

  “Then they'll most likely pay in trade bars. Fifty million would fit into a large security case. We'll all be on board in the same place so between the lot of us we should be able to nick it,” Lasher said.

  Kat was nodding out of habit, even though Orin couldn't see her on the comm. “The other thing we have to consider is the lancers when they show up again. Will they board with the team they had on the planet or will they bring in a company plus their support elements?”

  Lasher was quick to respond. “We have a plan for that. Tolin and Yu were briefed. They'll fill the rest of you in once we take our places on the starting line. Kat, how long until the repair ship docks with you?”

  “It's already on the move, Orin. You don't have much time.”

  “Me being on time isn't the issue,” Lasher said, trying not to sound too dire through the comm. “ I hope our wild cards play this as close as we are.”

  Lieutenant Swan stomped down the deck of the assault shuttle, Odin's Folly. Lancers in various states of dress darted out of her way. She abruptly halted her momentum at the bottom of the ramp, as if her world ended where the ship did. “Got to get a move on, Marshal Truveau. This is a gun boat, not a car service.”

  Mara was jogging toward the ramp when the ornery L.T. voiced her displeasure over the drone of engines spinning up. It had been days since she had a real shower to herself and she'd be damned if she wasn't going to take the opportunity now.

  She didn't acknowledge the lieutenant's gripe, but did stare her down when she took her seat. “What are you waiting for, Lieutenant? This is a gun boat, not a car service. Time to get a move on.”

  The contempt wasn't hidden on the other woman's face as she stalked furiously up the ramp. The lieutenant disappeared on the ladder to the cockpit. The lancers were smart to clear a path so the angry flight officer could take her station.

  “What's her problem?” Zane asked, throwing a data-slate to the marshal.

  “She wanted to be selected for Task Force Ten. That's the flight group out of Candalizza that works for Elysian Special Forces. Instead, her marks were so high the Athalon took her contract from the Force Majeure. She's Task Force Five and loving it.”

  Zane cocked his head, “Task Force Five is a lottery ticket to the big time. Why would she resent it?”

  “Her husband's Elysian Special Forces.”

  “Ah. She wanted the same base,” Zane concluded.

  “At the end of this tour she can put in for a transfer.”

  “You got any say in whether she goes or stays?”

  “Above my pay grade. Circle of Shields and CENTCOM can hash that one out.”

  “Speaking of hashing out, just got a note for you that came in so encrypted, it nearly gave Brasson a stroke.” Zane transferred the message from his comm buffer.

  “Doc say he's going to make it?” Mara asked.

  “Yeah, but we have to be nice to him for a minute or two.”

  “Best to put him down then. What's the message?” Mara smiled as she fiddled with the clasp for her cloak. Fishing out her cell-com, she negotiated the screens u
ntil she saw the forwarded missive from Zane. A grin flashed across her face then her brow scrunched as she absorbed the implications of the message.

  “That bad, eh?” Zane asked.

  “Not at all. When Inspector Castillo and I were hiding an asset recovered from the Striker Main incident, we had a habit of discussing food from the various spots we'd stomped all over. The man is a bit of a foodie. I'm trying to remember that one dish he went on and on about. It was great going down but would never stay there. Figured that would be the password for the message.”

  “What'd it look like?”

  “Noodle dish. Lots of Elysian shrimp and that spinach garbage they farm in the lowlands.”

  “Fastrada?” Zane asked.

  “If I could reach, I'd kiss you.”

  “Please don't. The guys all know this is a stepping stone post for me. Last thing I need is a frat rumor to go around,” Zane said, throwing up his hands.

  “Don't they have a sense of humor where you're from, Lance Sergeant?”

  “They do, ma'am, but the lancers surgically remove it after you make Lance Sergeant.”

  “You must be fun at parties,” Mara smirked. She fiddled with the display on her cell-com, waiting for the telltale ping that meant the message had been unlocked. She keyed the tab on her display so that she and Zane were the only ones to see it in their retinal displays.

  Chief Inspector Esteban Castillo appeared as a hologram a meter from them. His head darted from side to side, wearing a suspicious expression. His armor had taken several hits from blaster fire, as well as having slash marks near one of his shoulders.

  “Sorry to reach out to you before our scheduled message drop, but things have gotten a bit tense here. During my investigation, there's been a concerted effort to kidnap or kill me. While it's a tremendous ego boost that someone who can't have me would rather me be eliminated, it might also mean that whatever we're uncovering is putting us on the right trail. To that end, the Force Majeure under Vernai control, is tasking several battle groups to cast for the targets Lasher sent to both our camps. They want to get there before you so they can take command of the situation. The majority of them will be honorable, although I'm sure there will be elements that will erase any evidence before it can be collected. Orders to kill versus capture coming from our mystery puppeteer, of course. If our time together after Striker Main has given me insight into your choices, I am dispatching a battle group to your most likely target. They will report to you immediately once they transition to real space. I'll be two steps behind them to help you. Sign countersign is that awful breakfast we had on Khalizaad. Good hunting, my friend. May the stars light your way.”