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

by Zen DiPietro

  Peregrine’s mouth twisted in a wry sort of grimace. She had such an expressive face. “I’ve spent the majority of my adult life on the move. Busting my ass in OTS and security school, running missions for Blackout. Sometimes I forget what it’s like to just exist and be. But that’s what everyone does here. It’s refreshing, and I plan to make the most of it.”

  Fallon tried to imagine approaching her time here as a vacation, and failed.

  Per spoke again. “You should try just being. Accepting whatever happens to exist, at any particular moment.”

  “Okay,” Fallon agreed. “But what, specifically, are you doing with all the hours between going to sleep and waking up? That’s my real problem.”

  Peregrine barked out an amused, “Hah!” She propped her feet on the table too, copying Fallon’s posture. “Well, I’m reading a lot. Watching holo-vids. Listening to music. Catching up on all the things that were going on in the universe while I was too busy to notice. And when a certain someone is free, then I see him.” She shrugged.

  “Ah.”

  “Maybe you could use a good fling,” Per suggested.

  “Nah. That would be a complication. I don’t need that.”

  “Yeah, you were always more sentimental about that stuff.” Peregrine lifted her hand to her mouth and nibbled absently at the pad of her thumb, lost in thought.

  “Was I?”

  “Sure. I had a good laugh when I found out you’d married a Sarkavian.”

  “Well, thanks.”

  Per nudged Fallon’s foot with her own. “Not at you. Just at the irony that you’d chosen someone from a culture that’s so carefree about sexuality.”

  “Fine. Ha, ha. Irony is freaking hilarious.”

  “Oh, stop pouting. So what’s your biggest issue? Not having something marked out to do every hour of the day?”

  Fallon crossed her feet. “Yeah. But I came up with one thing to keep me busy. Lucky for you, you get to help.”

  “Oh, great. I’m sure this bodes all kinds of good things for me.” Per’s lack of enthusiasm was underwhelming. “What do I have to do?”

  “You’ve filled me in on vital statistics and resumé bullet points, but I want to get a better picture of my life before. I want you to tell me about every mission we ever went on, in chronological order. And any personal anecdotes that happened in between that you recall.”

  “Is that all?” Per’s face was deadpan.

  “Careful, your sarcasm is showing. But yes. I want to know my past. If it helps me remember, then all the better, but even hearing it secondhand is something.”

  Peregrine let out a long sigh. “When you put it that way, I’d have to be an ass not to do it. But that’s going to take forever.”

  “You can squeeze a lot into three months, if we work at it.”

  Peregrine sighed again. “What about Raptor and Hawk?”

  “They’ll be doing it too. I just haven’t told them yet.”

  Per barked out a real laugh this time. “Can I be there when you do?”

  Hawk’s long, swear-laden tirade the next morning no doubt turned out to be everything Peregrine had hoped it would be. She laughed in quick, snorting bursts that in turn made Fallon laugh.

  “Can’t you just wait until Raptor rips those records, then read them yourself?” Hawk complained.

  “No. That’s months away, if he can even get them. There’s no guarantee.” Fallon supposed Hawk had better plans than rehashing old history, and she almost felt bad about imposing on him. But then she remembered that his plans probably consisted entirely of throwing down with members of Jerin’s crew in various horizontal ways. His love life was eventful enough that he could miss a date or two for the greater good.

  “Well, bloody hell. Fine. But you can be sure I’m going to include every embarrassing thing that happened to you,” he groused.

  “Wouldn’t expect anything less.”

  Peregrine spoke up. “I was thinking we might coordinate, to keep it chronological. Once we’re done, Fallon will have a much better understanding of our work as a unit.”

  “Fine,” agreed Hawk. “But daytime hours only, as previously agreed. Dinnertime and after are still my own. Deal?”

  “Deal,” Per and Fallon said together.

  Hawk practically kicked them out of his quarters at that point, and Fallon went to see Raptor alone. His agreement didn’t surprise her. Somehow she’d known he’d be the only one to be immediately on board with the plan. Not that Peregrine and Hawk were less supportive, or that they truly minded helping her. They just didn’t seem to filter their thoughts from her as Raptor did. Like Fallon, he operated more internally.

  “I think it’s a good idea,” he added.

  “Good. Because I’d like to start with how you and I first met.”

  “Why?”

  “I’m going for a chronological perspective, and from what I understand, that was the first any of us knew of one another,” she explained.

  “Oh. Well that makes sense.”

  Hanging out in her partners’ quarters was beginning to feel weird, since all of them had similar quarters and similar couches. She pressed her feet against the edge of the table, pushing it half a meter away. Then she slid off the couch to the floor, resting her back on the couch. She patted the floor next to her, glancing toward Raptor.

  He joined her, looking conflicted.

  “What?” She didn’t like the expression on his face.

  “You used to do that, back in school. All the schools, actually. Academy, OTS, security school. You stopped when we became full-fledged members of Blackout. You said it was time you grew up and learned how to sit on a couch.” Memories flared in his eyes. History that she’d once shared, but now existed only in his head. Strange to feel like an outsider to her own life, and even stranger that she’d begun to get accustomed to it.

  “You think it’s some sort of fledgling memory?” she wondered. “Or just a personal habit, coming back to me? I do seem to like all the same things I ever did.”

  “No clue. I understand computers, not brains.” He watched her silently for a long moment. “I’d like to hope it’s a memory, but I don’t want to be disappointed.”

  “Does it mean a lot to you for me to remember?”

  “Of course. As a unit, we’d be stronger if you had everything you’re supposed to have. As your friend, I want to see you made whole again.”

  She could see exactly why she’d been drawn to him, in her previous life. She and Raptor had chemistry, though whether that was an inherent thing or something he generated through the power of his memories, she had no idea. For her part, he just appealed to her. She couldn’t pinpoint any particular reason for it. She liked the way he moved. The tone of his voice and his particular way of gliding across the syllables. He had charisma.

  He was right, though. She was definitely less than whole. She looked him in the eye. “I’m sorry I’m less of a teammate because of this. I really am. I don’t want to fail you guys.” The idea of letting them down haunted the dark corners of her mind during her less confident moments.

  “You’re not,” he said immediately. “You won’t. That’s not what I meant. You’re still everything you ever were, just minus the memory. And I’ve told you before, the four of us are bonded in a way that won’t break.”

  “Like soul mates, and marriage, but without the romantic thing.” That was the description Peregrine had once given her.

  “I guess.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I just mean that you never have to worry about us giving up on you, or being disappointed in you. If you went around biting babies and sucking their brains out, we’d assume you had a good reason and would back you up.”

  She laughed. “That’s awful!”

  He relaxed, smiling. “Not the first time you’ve said that.”

  She smiled back. “I like the idea of people who will have faith and back me up, no matter what. People I’ll do the same thing for. So.” She pressed her palms togeth
er and rested her chin on the tips of her fingers. “Tell me everything about how we met.”

  Raptor let his head drop back as he rubbed a hand over his jaw. “I guess there’s only one place to start.”

  Drew walked across the quad, enjoying the sunshine and fresh air. Since starting the PAC academy six months ago, he’d spent much of his time indoors. He’d never minded studying hard, which he’d expected to do at the academy, but he did miss spending time outside.

  Glad to have left his last class of the day behind him, he intended to get an early dinner before returning to his dorm for a long night of study. He had his sights set on finishing first in his class to ensure his acceptance into officer training school, or OTS as they usually called it. Being a PAC officer had been his goal for as long as he could remember. The uniforms, the technology, the adventure. He wanted to be part of something bigger than himself.

  Before he even started the academy, he’d been recruited by the intelligence department. Quietly, of course, and he’d not been allowed to tell anyone about it. The possibility of becoming one of the elite had intensified the fire within him to excel. He’d vowed to himself that he would live up to their every expectation, and then some. He would be so good they had to select him to become an intelligence officer.

  He noticed a hand-to-hand combat class going on at one end of the quad and detoured to get a look as he passed by. His favorite teacher spoke to a student, who wore the typical close-fitting pants and shirt for close-contact training. Commander Whelkin then gestured to another student, and the two faced off against each other.

  It wasn’t a bad match, skillwise, but Drew could see both of them hesitating. Trying to avoid taking a hit. Afraid of getting hurt. Whelkin shouted some corrections, and the students did try, but they clearly had no passion for hand-to-hand fighting.

  Whelkin’s frustrated gaze fell on Drew as he passed. “Drew!” he called. “Join us for a moment, if you have time.”

  Drew shrugged and closed the gap between him and his teacher. Whelkin’s attention shifted to another student, who sat properly on her knees, back straight, brown eyes sharp. There was a certain edge to her, an intensity that set her apart from the others.

  At the teacher’s gesture, she leaped to her feet and crossed the makeshift sparring ring to join them.

  Whelkin said, “Drew, this is Emiko. She’s my best student in the afternoon class. Emiko, Drew is the best student from my morning class.”

  They bowed politely to each other, in perfectly equal measure. Emiko had a roundish face, average features, and hair she’d pulled back into a thin ponytail. Her eyes, though, burned with a fierceness that he recognized. She was here to win.

  “I’d like the two of you to show the others how this is done.” Whelkin gestured to the rest of the class, who sat watching.

  Drew wore the cargo pants and T-shirt typical of academy students, rather than the usual sparring clothes, but he didn’t mind. “Sure.” He slipped his shoulder out of his backpack strap.

  The girl just nodded, fixing Drew with a cool, observant gaze. He’d grown ten centimeters in the past year, and felt like he towered over her slight form. She didn’t seem the least bit intimidated. In fact, she eyed him like he was beneath her.

  They stepped into the space, facing each other. Whelkin shouted, “Begin!”

  Neither of them moved. Drew waited her out, but she only watched him. She was the calculating sort, then. She’d take her time to figure out his strategy. He liked that. He took a step to his right, and she moved with him, keeping the space between them constant.

  He struck. A light jab, to test her. She blocked immediately. So he tried again, faster. And again, harder. Each time, she turned his hits aside, as if they were nothing, until he was hitting his hardest. She had a way of moving that kept him from being able to get to her center mass. She was just…slippery, and his strikes always slid off to the side.

  Just as he wondered if she’d ever launch any attacks of her own, she did. A punch to the face, then one to the sternum. He dodged the first but the second glanced off his ribs.

  Surprised, he decided to get close and overwhelm her. He stepped into her space, ready to grapple, but after a rush of movement he found himself on his ass. He immediately leaped back to his feet. All right, then. Time to get serious.

  He moved in again and let fly with the three-punch combination that Whelkin had taught him just that week. Block, block, a decent impact, and then his arm was in a vice, and his ass was on the ground again.

  “Excellent,” Whelkin called as Drew leaped to his feet again. “Thank you both.”

  Drew and Emiko eyed one another, each making sure the other had turned off battle mode before dropping their guard. He felt out of breath, and his butt no doubt had a large bruise or two, but other than a small pink mark on her cheek, she looked unaffected.

  “You can’t be afraid to take a punch,” Whelkin lectured the others. “Sometimes you give up a hit to gain the advantage. The more hits you take, the better you’ll get at it.”

  He turned his attention to Drew and Emiko. “Nice work, you two. Emiko, why don’t you take off early while I teach your classmates some basics?” He gave her a wink.

  She smiled, bowed low to her teacher, and went to retrieve her backpack. After putting it on, she gave Drew a shallow but proper bow, then turned to leave.

  “Hey,” he surprised himself by saying. “Are you up for an early dinner?”

  Fallon enjoyed Raptor’s storytelling. Mostly hearing his personal feelings and observations about school, and his initial impressions of her. His impression of the events was as important to her as the events themselves.

  “That’s it?” she asked.

  “Yeah. You wanted something more dramatic?” Raptor shifted against the front of the couch, stretching his arm out on the seat cushion.

  “Definitely. Laser beams and rampaging psychopaths. Or something.”

  “Sorry.”

  She shrugged. “So my name was Emiko?”

  “Just the academy name the intelligence department hooked you up with when they recruited you. You never told me the name you were born with.”

  “Safer that way, no doubt, for both of us.” The idea made her a little sad, for some reason. They’d been sixteen. Too young to be involved in the spy game. Yet they’d already started the long descent into Blackout. “Interesting that I went by Emiko at the academy, and Emé at Dragonfire.”

  He scratched his ear. “Yeah, we talked about your alias a little, back on Dragonfire. It was obviously a flare you were sending up for me to find. I did, eventually. Once I realized I should be looking.”

  “Why would Blackout let me use that name?”

  He gave her a half grin. “No way they’d let you. No doubt they gave you a perfectly benign alias, and you changed it, and by the time they realized, it was too late.”

  “That would seem to indicate that I knew something was going on, from the very start of my time on Dragonfire.”

  He nodded, his lips drawn into a narrow line of deep thought. She didn’t have anything more to add to that idea, so she tucked it away to ponder later and moved on to the next issue.

  “Did we start dating right away?” She wasn’t sure she wanted to know details, but there was no point in having these sessions if she was going to shy away from the uncomfortable parts.

  “Not exactly.” His eyes focused on some spot on the ceiling. “I mean, we didn’t go about it in such a straightforward way. We saw each other as…I don’t know, partners. We figured out pretty quickly that we were both on the fast track to intelligence. We weren’t supposed to talk about it, and we didn’t, other than a rare shadow of a reference. But we knew. It made sense for us to be together.”

  “That’s mercenary.” And far more clinical than she’d expected for a pair of teenagers.

  “It wasn’t, really. We were great together. We fit. We talked about our studies, we sparred. You taught me a hell of a lot about close co
mbat. And you did a lot of crazy-ass flips and stuff back then, too. You taught me to do one of them, before I got too big to make it work. But we laughed, too. A lot. And we had trouble keeping our hands off each other. Like I said. We just fit.”

  Well, that sounded better, at least. More organic and reasonably hormonal. “Why was I so good at fighting?”

  “You told me once that your father taught you. That he started training you as soon as you could walk. And then you refused to talk about it, ever again. I think you were mad at yourself for saying something about your first life.”

  “First life,” she repeated. “Like we get more than one.”

  “Don’t we? How many have you had by this time? The one you were born into, the academy, OTS, security school and Blackout, your new life on Dragonfire, and now this. Sounds like a lot of lives to me. A lot of names, too.”

  “I guess so.” She considered all the names she must have used. “Seems like I wear names like hats. Just put on whatever one fits me at the time.”

  “We all do. It’s not a big deal.”

  “Isn’t it? Do you ever feel like you don’t know who you really are?” She turned to her side, resting her head on the couch as she looked at him.

  “Never. I’ve always known who I am and what I’m about. Who other people think I am has nothing to do with that.”

  She fell silent, thinking about his words. Finally, she said, “Since waking up without my memory, I’ve been living my life based on what people have told me about who they think I am.”

  “Not true. You’ve played out the scenarios you found yourself in, but you knew something was off. You were looking for answers before I even showed up at Dragonfire.”

  She liked his interpretation of events better. “Do I seem like the same person you knew before?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “When did we meet Peregrine and Hawk?”

  “You mean Poppy and Olag? We’d seen them around, since they entered the academy at the same time we did, but we started getting to know them halfway through our third year, when we’d been matched up with them for intelligence training in OTS.”