Lost Alliance (Dragonfire Station Books 1-3): A Galactic Empire series

by Zen DiPietro

  Not that there was anything for her to do for him now. Her attention shifted to Raptor as she rejoined the others, only minutes after she’d left. “What about you? Any injuries?”

  He still sat next to Hawk. He looked up at her, his face lined in a way she hadn’t seen before. He looked older. Exhausted. “Just some scratches and bruises.”

  All of Hawk’s visible injuries to his front side were gone, as though they’d been erased. Fallon looked over Raptor’s shoulder to see the readout from the medical scanner. It was a woeful substitute for a techbed, but it showed a steady heart rate and breathing. Hopefully they would stay that way.

  “We need to roll him and get those stinger burns, now that he’s stable,” Peregrine said to Fallon.

  The three of them rolled him onto his stomach, and Fallon cringed at the three burn marks in Hawk’s back. They weren’t life threatening where they were located, but they must have been hideously painful. As Raptor worked on Hawk’s back, Fallon sat next to them, her hand on Hawk’s shoulder.

  She leaned down. “Hang in there,” she murmured. “We’ve got you. Blood and bone don’t quit.”

  When she straightened, she saw a surprised expression on Peregrine’s face. Raptor, too, had frozen, his gaze riveted on her.

  “What?” she asked, defensively.

  “What did you just say?” Peregrine asked.

  “Just…blood and bone don’t quit.”

  “Why?” Raptor asked.

  “I don’t know. Just seemed like the right…thing.” She shrugged.

  Peregrine and Raptor exchanged a look.

  “What?” Fallon asked again, annoyed.

  Raptor went back to working on Hawk.

  Peregrine answered her. “That’s what we’ve always said when one of us is hurt or things are really looking bad.”

  Fallon felt everything inside her go very still. She could recover skills when she knew to try, but she’d never recalled specific things like words or phrases. But maybe the phrase was more than just an encouragement that had occurred to her on the spur of the moment. Could it be an actual memory?

  Throughout the night, no other memories surfaced. What she’d said to Hawk might have been nothing but a coincidence.

  Fallon sat up with him, watching him breathe. Peregrine would take over in two more hours, ensuring that they each got half a night’s sleep. When there was nothing left for Raptor to do for Hawk, Fallon and Peregrine had insisted he shove some food into his face and then sleep. He’d protested, but the quickness with which he capitulated proved his exhaustion.

  She still didn’t know just what had happened to Hawk. Only that assassins had been sent for him too, and getting off that Zerellian moon had not been easy.

  She lay next to him on the foldout bed in the living area. They’d decided not to move him farther than they had to, both for his comfort and theirs. Hawk was a huge dude, and seemed to be filled with iron. She kept herself propped up on one elbow, measuring his every breath from half a meter away. He seemed to be out of imminent danger, but Raptor had warned about a pulmonary embolism, which could kill Hawk in minutes. They had no monitoring equipment, only the scanner, which she used every quarter hour to get a read on the basics. A doctor could not have done much more for Hawk than Raptor had, and they sure could have used a techbed.

  It was a shame she didn’t have Brannin, Jerin, or Brak to look after Hawk. She was certain Jerin and Brak would have refrained from asking too many questions. But they were days of distance away, and she’d agreed with Raptor and Peregrine that taking Hawk to a medical facility on Dineb would be like shooting a flare right to Blackout, cueing them in on Avian Unit’s location. Even worse, Dineb had no medical staff that they could trust to do some off-the-books doctoring.

  So they could only watch and wait. At least the medkit had included a sonic cleaner, which had allowed them to get the blood off of Hawk. The smell of wet metal and dirt, permeating the entire suite, had bothered the three of them. After getting him clean, they’d increased the cycling speed of the air purifier, and the stench had cleared out in minutes.

  She shouldn’t have been surprised, but when they got him clean, she’d recognized the tattoo, just to the outside of his left nipple. Just like the ones she, Raptor, and Peregrine had. It made her feel suddenly more connected to this big bear of a man.

  They’d covered Hawk with a light blanket, but his skin had grown hot and Fallon had pushed it off him. Raptor had warned her it would happen, as his body recovered in ways that only it could accomplish at this point.

  She touched her hand to Hawk’s forehead, then rested it on his chest, gauging his body heat. She left it there, feeling his heavy heartbeat against her palm, ensuring that it stayed steady. It felt oddly intimate, lying next to a nearly nude person, watching him sleep. Listening to his breathing as she would a lover’s. And she did feel a connection to him. Something sort of like a lover, but without the sexual component. Was it just empathy and a shared tattoo, or some actual remembrance of him? She hoped it was a memory.

  She flexed her fingers against his chest, lightly touching the tattoo beneath them. Funny to see what she considered a piece of herself on another person.

  “Stop groping me, pervert.” The words were as rough and rusty as an ancient hunk of metal, but she heard them clearly.

  She yanked her hand back and sat up, peering down into his face. His eyes opened, revealing the blue-gray she remembered from his file. Up close, they were much prettier, like a cloudy sky with a hint of rain.

  His lip twitched, causing his full beard to move in tandem. He worked his jaw, keeping his eyes fixed on Fallon.

  “I feel like shit,” he rasped.

  “You smell like it too. Especially your breath,” she answered.

  The mountain of a man who’d been near death only hours ago grinned at her. “Good to see you, Fallon.”

  She hopped off the couch-bed and retrieved a pouch of biogel. He glanced at it as she returned, folding her legs under her to sit next to him.

  “I hate that rubbish. Get me bourbon.”

  “Forget it.” She punctured the pouch and pressed it to his mouth with gentle fingers that were completely at odds with their barbed words.

  He obediently drank it down until she withdrew the depleted packet and dropped it next to the bed. He cleared his throat.

  “Feels better, at least.” He’d lost the raspiness, but his resounding bass voice still seemed to come from deep within his chest. It suited him, given his hulking physique. In contrast to Raptor, he was all bulk and muscle. The male equivalent of Peregrine, she supposed.

  “Good. We were worried.”

  His thick arms, previously so inert, surprised her by grabbing her suddenly and pulling her down across him, into a bear hug. “Man am I glad to see you. I like the hair. Like the old days.” He reached up and tousled it.

  “Thanks. You’re looking much better.” She rolled away and sat up to study him. His color had returned, pinking up what she could see of his cheeks above his beard. The facial hair had a way of highlighting his eyes and his full lips, giving him the look of a cherubic lumberjack. His reddish-brown hair matched his beard precisely. He was just handsome enough to be eye-catching, but earthy enough to be charming and disarming. A potent combination, she was sure.

  “Raptor?” he asked, his eyes gone serious.

  “Fine. Just exhausted. I can’t wait to hear about whatever happened.”

  “I’ve already heard about what happened to you. Didn’t hear much of Raptor’s blather when I was trying to sleep, but I did catch that part.” He pushed himself up to sitting, groaning a little.

  “You okay?”

  “Damn back hurts.” He awkwardly reached around himself, probing his back.

  She slapped his hand away. “Stinger burns. Healed, but the new skin will be tender. Why weren’t you wearing a stinger dissipater?”

  He scowled at her. “I didn’t have any reason to expect trouble. I was sleeping
when they showed up.”

  Well, that answered that.

  “Bet you didn’t expect to have to perform your own emergency extraction.” She stood and moved to his side to assist. She braced her shoulder into his side and put her arm around him.

  “Good thing Raptor showed up when he did. They had me pinned down. Five of them.” He accepted her help without complaint, resting his arm on her shoulder. It felt like a boulder, but a warm, gentle boulder.

  “Where are we going?” she asked.

  “The necessary. I’m about to burst.”

  He did fairly well, only bobbling twice. She served as a small anchor, and his arm tightened on her each time briefly, until he’d steadied himself.

  She helped him all the way into the necessary, where he let go of her and rested a hand on the sink basin for surety.

  “You good on your own?” she asked. Surprisingly, the idea of helping if he needed it didn’t bother her.

  “I got it.” He shuffled to the commode and Fallon watched him to be sure, then stepped out, letting the door slide closed behind her. She remained poised, listening, in case he called for her.

  The door hissed back open and they resumed their previous situation. On their way back to the bed, he asked, “Any chance of some food? I’m starved.”

  “That’s a good sign.” She made sure he was seated before going to the kitchenette and throwing a variety of high-nutrition foods onto a tray.

  He’d arranged himself sitting up with a cushion behind his back, so she set the tray next to him. He wasted no time in tearing into it.

  “So you don’t remember me at all, huh?” He watched her sit next to him while he chewed.

  “I saw your active file,” she answered. “So I know everything from there. But from my own personal knowledge, no. I don’t.”

  “Ah, yes. Your memory. Eidetic, or whatever.” He put his hands in the air at each side of his head and waggled his fingers. Then he reached for another protein pack. He seemed to like them.

  “Not quite. But close.”

  “Never knew you to forget anything.” He uncapped a bottle of juice and tipped it back for a long drink that nearly emptied it. “Well, until now.”

  “Irony.” She shrugged. “I’m managing.”

  She considered waking Raptor and Peregrine to let them know that Hawk was up, but quickly decided against it. They needed their sleep, especially Raptor. She’d keep Hawk company until Peregrine came to relieve her. She was glad to get the chance to meet this fourth partner, her final teammate.

  They talked like old friends, which they were, though Fallon didn’t recall it. He told her about his escape from the Zerellian moon. They’d barely gotten off the rock, and Raptor had had a hell of a time shaking off the pursuers.

  “Could have used your flying skills,” Hawk noted, starting on his fourth protein pack. They’d need to stock back up the next day. Unless they were leaving. She didn’t know yet. If they were, then they’d need a whole slew of supplies. Some of them might not be accessible on Dineb. She started making a mental shopping list.

  “Why mine?” she asked.

  “You’re the best of us, by far. You don’t know that either?” He snorted, as if scoffing at her stupidity.

  She smirked. “I know I love flying. I also noticed my flight rating was higher than any of yours.”

  “Could have been a fighter pilot for the PAC if you’d chosen.” He smashed the protein-pack wrapper between his hands and reached for a tango fruit.

  “Did not know that.” That reminded her. “So I’m both the intel-slash-tactical person and the pilot. Raptor is the programmer-slash-hacker and medic. You’re the extraction specialist and what?” It only made sense that the pattern followed throughout their team. Each of them with skills that, when added to those of the others, made them a fully contained unit.

  “All-around good guy.” He gave her a cocky smile.

  “I’m serious.”

  “So am I. Everyone loves me.” His smile held.

  At her baleful glare, he sighed. “Fine. I’d hoped you’d be more fun this time around. Should have known better. Well, we’re all top-notch fighters, though we each have our own tactical style. I’m sure you knew that.”

  She nodded and twirled her finger in a “keep going” gesture.

  He relented. “I have a network of people who can help out with things on a not-so-official basis.”

  “Like what, smugglers?” She selected a bottle of water for herself and opened it, taking a sip.

  “For starters. Forgers, smugglers, thieves. You know. Helpful folks.”

  “Criminals.” She grimaced.

  “Don’t be so quick to judge.” His tone was joking, but there was an underlying seriousness. “Sometimes the line between legal and illegal is faded and blurry. Like us. What we’re doing, going off book, makes us criminals. Traitors, technically.”

  She hadn’t thought of it that way. She’d thought of it as her team rooting out what had gone bad in Blackout to restore it. That double negative, in her mind, had equated to Avian Unit still being a positive. The good guys.

  “I guess you’re right.” She sighed.

  He bumped her shoulder with his fist. Even in his weakened state, and even though he was clearly being careful, it felt like she’d stumbled and smacked her shoulder on a bulkhead.

  “Course I am. You remember that, at least. ‘Hawk is always right,’ you always say.”

  She laughed. “You’ll never get me to believe that.”

  He affected a wounded look, then stuffed the last of the fruit in his mouth, making loud slurping sounds against the juicy flesh. The sweet smell of it made Fallon want one, but they were officially out of them now. Something else they’d need to get the next day.

  “How are you feeling?” She reached for the hand scanner and ran through the routine biometric checks.

  “Better than when I woke. Worse than yesterday.”

  “Your white count is a little low. When Raptor wakes up, he might want to give you some injections.”

  He sighed and pushed the tray away. All that remained were empty packets and bottles, and one lone container of water. He picked it up and twisted it between his hands. “I hate injections.”

  “You’ll survive it.” She swung her legs off the bed and took the tray back to the kitchenette. She shoved the wrappings into the recycling tube and left the tray on top of the mini-cooler.

  When she returned to sit on the couch, Hawk continued as if there’d been no break to their previous thread of conversations. “Peregrine’s our gadget person, if you didn’t know. She can refit anything in less than the standard spec time. She doesn’t do big things like engines or anything, but with contained systems like surveillance, scanners, and the like, she’s a pro.”

  Made sense. “She made me into her daughter for the trip off Sarkan,” Fallon confided.

  Hawk grinned. “She made me into her dad once. I bet I liked that even less.”

  “Yeah. I could see that.” At his sharp look, she added, “Not liking it, I mean. Not that you look like you could be her dad.”

  He smiled fondly, scratching at the beard just under his chin, which made a gross, scritchy sort of sound she didn’t like. “She comes up with some fun ones sometimes.” His last word morphed into a yawn that grew surprisingly big.

  “Think I’m getting sleepy,” he mumbled.

  “It’s the middle of the night,” she reassured him. “You’re supposed to be.”

  “I want to talk more. I haven’t seen you in a year.” He frowned at her. “I have a lot of questions.”

  Still, he lay back when she put her hand on his arm and guided him. “The four of us are back together now. We’re going to stay that way. We’ll get caught up.”

  He yawned again. “All right.” His eyelids drifted shut and she smoothed a lightweight blanket over him. His eyes popped back open. “Stay with me?”

  Somehow he managed to sound like an eight-year-old child, in n
eed of mothering. “Yeah. I’ll be right here.”

  To prove it, she lay down next to him and stretched out her arm to rest her palm on his shoulder. He fell asleep almost immediately, but she didn’t move her hand.

  Fallon woke up tired. She rubbed the sand from her eyes and, yawning, left her room to join the others in the living area.

  “There she is!” announced Hawk, eating again, but this time sitting up at the small dining table. His color was good. To look at him, she wouldn’t know he’d been in such bad shape the day before.

  Peregrine and Raptor sat with him. Peregrine looked sharp and alert, even though she’d spent the second half of the night watching over Hawk.

  Fallon joined them at the table, aware that this was the first time, in her memory, all four of them had been together. The others didn’t seem to notice, though. To them it must have been just like old times. Other than Hawk’s recent distress and her own memory loss. But maybe such hurdles were normal for a unit like theirs. Just another day at the office for a group of BlackOps.

  They made plans over breakfast. Over Hawk’s protests, Fallon assigned herself and Peregrine to go out and get whatever supplies they could find. Food and other basics would be easy enough to obtain, but they’d need to look elsewhere for some of their other, more specialized, needs. Unfortunately Raptor had lost the ultralight during the confrontation on the Zerellian moon. He insisted they watch for an opportunity to acquire another one, but Fallon had reservations about allowing them to be split up again. That seemed like a terrible idea. To pacify Raptor, she agreed that they’d all be on the lookout for an ultralight.

  After they’d eaten, she and Peregrine set out together, buying food, clean comports, and basic living supplies. As they walked back to their suite, laden with bags and with deliveries to follow, they talked about Hawk. They could have hired a taxi, but they both appreciated the opportunity to be outside and stretch their legs.

  “Is it weird for you, dealing with Raptor now?” Peregrine asked, shifting the conversation.