by Zen DiPietro
“Sorry. I have a date.” At least that brightened his expression.
“Ah. Well, have fun.” On impulse, she turned back and gave him a quick but tight hug before going. He returned it with the same vigor, though he took care to be gentle with her.
She went back to her own quarters. She wanted some time to think about the story he’d told her. She kept hoping that one of these stories might reveal a key either to her memory or the reason for her lack thereof. So far, just as she had with her other efforts to regain her memories, she’d come up with a big, fat zero.
She ended up taking her bottle of ale to Peregrine’s quarters. Fallon wanted another story, and sharing some of the fine beverage seemed like a great way to make that happen. At least, she hoped so. Peregrine had just told her one the previous day, and Fallon didn’t usually make her teammates revisit the past two days in a row.
“Let me guess,” Peregrine said as soon as she saw Fallon. “You want me to tell you something we did that had a happy ending.”
“Hello to you, too.” Fallon handed the bottle to Per and walked in, uninvited. “But yes. How did you know?”
“Hawk told me he’d talked to you about Artelon Three. I figured the people trafficking would get you down as much as it does him.”
Fallon leaned against the wall next to the porthole and gazed out. Nothing much to see, but still she looked. “Yeah.”
“How about the time we saved Admiral Krazinski’s daughter?”
“Was she kidnapped? Because that sounds like a good one.”
“Not quite. But it is a good one.” Peregrine perched on the arm of the couch and took a breath.
10
Fragments Chapter 5
“Someone tell me again why we are invading a non-PAC planet, in the middle of a civil war, for the purpose of extracting people who chose to go there of their own free will?” Peregrine frowned down at Atalus. She knew perfectly well what they were doing and why, but the fact that an elite team of BlackOps was going into a war zone to retrieve one pampered princess didn’t sit well with her.
“Because it’s Admiral Krazinski’s daughter and he’s not only our superior officer, but one of the most important people in PAC intelligence. And he’d like to see his daughter again, with her head still attached.” Fallon was obsessively double-checking all of her calculations. She didn’t often get to fly directly into a planet’s atmosphere, and Peregrine had no doubt she’d make the most of it.
“Nope. Still doesn’t seem like a good enough reason, considering her big bleeding heart and delusions of making a difference brought her voluntarily to a place that people are climbing over one another to escape.” Peregrine didn’t feel good about this mission. Not because it was dangerous. They expected danger on their missions. She didn’t like this job because the risk wasn’t worth the reward. Blackout risked losing one of its best units. The best, in Peregrine’s opinion, and she was hardly alone in thinking so.
Assuming everything went perfectly, all they’d get would be one spoiled brat, safe and sound, to reunite with her doting dad. What about all the Atalans who would gratefully give up their own lives to get their children off the planet? The effort seemed misplaced.
But then it wasn’t her job to decide. Her job was to follow orders, and she’d do it to the death, if that was what it took. Because that was what she did. Dammit.
Fallon entered their trajectory and began the descent. The stealth fighter they’d been given for this mission took the rough ride well for such a small craft. By the time Fallon put them down behind a sand dune, Peregrine didn’t feel as if all of her teeth had tried to rattle right out of her head. At least she had that.
Fallon stayed with the ship, keeping it primed for lift-off. The team might return hot, pursued by who knew what. They needed their pilot ready and waiting.
Which left Peregrine, Hawk, and Raptor to do the dirty work.
Atalus was a hot, sandy place, and they’d equipped accordingly. They had clothing that would help cool them and protect them from the suns, a lot of biogel to drink, and weapons. Big weapons. The kind of ordnance that made Peregrine glad to be alive.
They’d gotten a positive lock on Hollinare’s transmitter. Not that Admiral Krazinski’s daughter knew she had one. Peregrine supposed Hollinare would have to have a talk with her daddy about injecting her with the device, if she made it home. Peregrine was glad, for her own selfish reasons, that Krazinski had violated his daughter’s bodily autonomy. It made her job a lot easier.
It had taken Krazinski three months to realize his daughter was even missing. Per had been an adult long enough to know that adult children don’t always check in. Krazinski hadn’t kept close tabs on his daughter, either, and when he realized she no longer worked at the hospital on Zerellus, he’d gone into a frenzy to find his only child.
Raptor had unraveled her plans in minutes, once he tapped into her personal voicecom records. Which had only made Krazinski more agitated.
Peregrine had found it fascinating, really, to watch a distinguished, top-of-the-hierarchy diplomat go from hard as nails to frantic parent. More or less. She still hadn’t decided whether that made her respect him more or less. But Krazinski had stood up for Avian Unit more than once, such as after the disaster on Artelon Three. She and her team would back him up with whatever he needed, no questions asked. Well, no questions asked of him, anyway. Peregrine just might have a few things to say to Hollinare, when they found her.
In the distance, lights flickered and blazed, like a storm and a light show combined. A bombing. Peregrine hoped the action stayed far away, long enough for them to get off the surface of the planet. Atalus no longer had much working tech, so she didn’t worry too much that their ship had been detected, but a firefight could break out anywhere, anytime on a planet like this. All she and the others needed was to stumble into the cross hairs of two of the four feuding factions, and that dumb bad luck could get them all killed.
Prelin, it was all so stupid. If the PAC had admitted Atalus into the cooperative, they could have stopped the war before it got off the ground. But the admission process was so long. The war had been raging for several years now and showed no signs of abating. The planet seemed doomed.
By the time she, Hawk, and Raptor hoofed it into the encampment, constantly on alert, waiting for gunfire to break out at any moment, they were all edgy and irritable. Not a single breeze broke the heat that poured over them like a suffocating blanket. Peregrine felt like she was roasting, even inside her cooling clothes.
At least no one had shot at them. So far.
“Hollinare Krazinski!” Raptor yelled into the silent air from the center of the ragged tents and half-bombed-out buildings. It was as if there weren’t a single soul within the camp, though Avian Unit knew better. The people were just hiding. “We’re here to take you home.” He spoke first in the standard PAC pidgin, then repeated the message in perfect Atalan.
A tent flap moved and their target stepped out with the grim look of someone too jaded to be scared. Clearly, she’d seen some action.
“I won’t leave without my friends.” She spoke Atalan, with a decent accent. She gestured and people spilled out behind her and kept coming. All told, Peregrine counted fifteen of them. Fifteen dirty, tired souls with haunted eyes.
“Who are they?” Raptor asked in standard.
“Friends.” Hollinare crossed her arms over her chest.
“We don’t have time for this,” Peregrine muttered. “We’re all exposed.” Hawk grunted in agreement.
Raptor waved her off. He knew that. He kept his eyes on Hollinare and her friends. “Did they come with you, or are they native Atalans?”
“Some of both. They’re all good people who need to get out of here.” Hollinare’s eyes dared him to tell her no. Grudgingly, Peregrine had to give her some respect for that. The admiral’s daughter wasn’t exactly the bleeding-heart lightweight she’d expected.
Raptor gave a sharp nod. “Fine. Bring e
nough water to keep you alive. Biogel if you have it. We don’t have enough to share with that many. Anything you can’t grab in two minutes is getting left here. That’s all you get before we depart.” He jerked a thumb over his shoulder.
True to his word, he herded up the group and pushed it ahead of him, driving everyone hard. Hawk took point and Peregrine brought up the rear. She’d rather do that than babysit the civilians. She knew Hawk would feel the same. Of the three of them, Raptor was best equipped for that job, so he could have it.
She didn’t relax until they were on board the ship with the hatch closed. They were exhausted and drenched in sweat, but Peregrine felt victorious. Only the heaviest-grade RPGs could pose a risk to them now, and Atalus probably didn’t have any of those left. Still, she felt better once Fallon got the ship up into the atmosphere.
Peregrine’s tension bled off, fading into a haze of success. Now that was a mission well done. Sure, they’d been lucky, not crossing paths with the feuding factions, but so what? Luck just as often went the other way for them. Today was simply their turn at having a good toss of the dice.
She sank into her chair and began tearing off her combat gear. Damned uncomfortable stuff. She needed a shower and fresh clothes. Raptor and Hawk followed suit, yanking off the heavy gear.
“Everything go okay down there?” Fallon asked.
“Yeah,” Raptor answered, eyeing their passengers sardined into the rear of the ship’s cockpit. Too small to even be called a bridge. He’d need to sort them into berths somehow. There wasn’t nearly enough space, and Peregrine had a feeling she’d be sleeping on the deck plates. Whatever. She’d slept in worse places.
As intended, Fallon did feel better hearing Hollinare’s story.
“What does she do now?”
Peregrine twisted the end of her ponytail absently. “She’s still a nurse practitioner. Works on Barthon IV, a refugee haven. She’s also a prominent fundraiser for charitable aid. A vocal lobbyist for streamlining the PAC membership process, as well.”
“I’m sure Krazinski loves that,” Fallon chuckled. “That must be uncomfortable for him.”
“As far as I know, he’s proud of her,” Peregrine answered. “He supports her efforts, though his job is to keep the already-existing PAC worlds safe. I guess it’s a matter of ideals versus reality.”
Fallon thought of her Atalan friends, Kellis and Arin. “When you’re starving and terrified of dying every minute of your life, you do what it takes to survive. Only those of us lucky enough to have a safe distance from the turmoil have the luxury of aspiring to ideals.”
Per made a hmph sound of agreement.
“Thanks for telling me this one,” Fallon said. She stood, stretching her arms. She checked the time. “I should get going. I have a knife lesson to get to.”
“How’s the doctor doing?”
“Well…he doesn’t have a knack for it, but he sure tries hard.”
“Gotcha,” Per chuckled. “At least he’s having fun, and sharing some good ale.”
“My thoughts exactly.” The door opened and Fallon stepped out, almost knocking into Raptor, who had raised his hand to ring the chime. The intense look on his face immediately put her on alert.
“I found something,” he said without preamble.
Fallon rescheduled her lesson with Dr. Yomalu, or Yom, as he’d asked to be called, though she endeavored to avoid doing so. Meanwhile, Hawk arrived at Per’s quarters, sweaty and flushed.
“What’ve you got?”
Raptor gestured for him to take a seat next to Fallon on the couch. Peregrine leaned against the back of it. Raptor sat in the chair.
“The datastream we got from your guy didn’t give me much. It had a lot on it, but mostly inconsequential stuff. It did have one classified message, but it had been blanked. Couldn’t reconstruct it. I did, however, manage to extract the algorithm to decode it.”
He paused, looking at each of them in turn to make sure they had no questions, then continued. “I got a ton of data from the hotel. Too much, really. Made it hard to sift through. But today I found another classified message. Blanked. But when I ran the algorithm on it, bam. I had it.”
Fallon sat up straighter. “What?”
“A notification from Admiral Krazinski to all Blackout units and officials, saying that Avian Unit had gone deep undercover and was not to be approached, even if recognized. Highest priority.”
Sudden silence filled the room as they considered what that meant. “That sounds like he’s protecting us,” Peregrine said slowly, thinking it through even as she talked. “He knows something’s wrong and he’s giving us cover.”
“Maybe,” agreed Raptor.
“Or…” Fallon said, hating to be the negative one. She much preferred Peregrine’s theory. “He’s making it look like he is. To make us trust him. He might even have planted messages just for us to find.”
The light she’d seen in Per’s eyes dimmed, and she felt bad for being the cause. But she didn’t trust anyone in Blackout, other than the three people in the room with her.
“She’s right,” Raptor agreed. “So this might actually do us no good.” He sighed with frustration.
“Keep digging,” advised Fallon. “See what else you find. Let’s see if the pieces look like they’ve been made to fit together, or if there’s anything we can corroborate on our own.” She injected a cheerier note into her voice. “Maybe Krazinski is on our side. We can’t rule anything out.” Until they had proof, Fallon wasn’t willing to accept anything as fact.
“Yeah.” Peregrine didn’t perk up at the suggestion. Her typical frowning had degraded to a sustained grimace.
“Come on. We have almost three weeks left. Surely we can come up with some idea which way it is before we make it to Earth. And if not, then surely the data we get from the base will crack it.” Fallon didn’t like seeing her team so down.
Hawk started to leave but she caught his arm. “Want to have dinner tonight?”
That at least made him smile. “Nope. My time here is counting down, and I plan to make the most of it.”
Fallon had somehow managed not to find out any details about his activities, and she preferred to keep it that way. “Happy hunting.”
“No worries.” He winked at her.
Raptor seemed disinclined to move after Hawk left. His distant gaze suggested he was mentally foraging through datastreams.
“Raptor?” she asked. “Dinner?”
That snapped him back to reality. “Uh, no. Thanks. Maybe tomorrow. I need to keep working.” He gave them a distracted wave, then left.
“That leaves you and me,” Fallon said to Peregrine.
Per’s grimace eased a fraction. “Fine. You seem desperate, so I’ll go to dinner with you.”
Fallon laughed. “Very big of you.”
“I do what I can for my team. Blood and bone.”
Before Fallon knew it, she was touring the Onari to say her goodbyes. To Trin, whom she’d grown quite fond of. To Jorrid Yomalu, who assured her he’d keep practicing his knife throwing, though he’d never even attained the skills of a novice. To Corla and her cute little baby, who had begun to grow on Fallon. To Endra, who had looked conflicted, but genuinely wished her luck. And to Brak, who had become a deeply treasured friend. They stood at the entrance to the airlock before parting ways.
Brak clicked her teeth. “I wasn’t going to say anything, because I’m not sure it will pan out, but I want you to know that I’m working on something to help you. An implant. Not like the kind I refused to make for the PAC—something reverse to that. I’ll explain it all later if it works out, but this would serve as the intermediary between your memories and your recollection, bringing them back together.”
Fallon stared at Brak. “So why are you telling me now?” She smelled anise, indicating Brak’s worry for her.
Brak said, “So you don’t take unnecessary risks. Whatever you find down there isn’t your only possible link to regaining your past
.”
Fallon was touched. “You’re an amazing friend.”
Brak smiled. “Nonsense. I’m terribly opportunistic. I’m excited for you to be my…what’s the phrase? Guinea pig?”
Fallon laughed. “Right. Well.” She stepped in and gave her friend a hug, which was returned to her in kind.
Jerin arrived and Brak discreetly took her leave. Fallon glanced toward the airlock where Per, Raptor, and Hawk were all waiting for her.
Jerin took her hands. “I hardly know what to say, but I wish you luck.” She pursed her lips, then added, “Don’t get killed.”
“I’ll do my very best,” Fallon promised.
“The Onari is always here for you to come back to.”
“We’ve imposed on you enough.” Fallon shook her head. “Hawk’s already arranged the purchase of a high-speed, well-armed ship, now registered to an assumed name. No one’s going to trace us to you, you can be sure. As long as your crew says nothing.”
“Of course they won’t.” Jerin was about to say more when Kellis hurried in.
“Sorry I’m late.” She sounded out of breath, as if she’d run through the corridor. “I…had a goodbye that took longer than expected.”
Fallon wondered if it had been Trin. “It’s fine. You’re still on time.”
“Take care of my engineer.” Jerin’s voice had gone dead serious. “I expect her to come back to me in perfect shape.”
If things worked out the way Kellis seemed to be angling for, Fallon guessed that she might just end up in Blackout instead. Once they managed to cleanse it, of course. This mission would be a heck of a tryout for her.
“I’ll keep her as safe as I possibly can.” It was the best promise Fallon could make, under the circumstances. They were about to commit piracy and treason against the PAC, after all. She and her partners had explained to Kellis how dangerous this was, but she’d refused to reconsider. Fallon didn’t share those thoughts with Jerin, though.
