by Zen DiPietro
In her security office, they worked. Ross monitored Nevitt and Colb progressing through the station while the rest of the team installed and implemented the program Raptor had written while on the Nefarious.
The last step was to run the software and test it. They tried accessing the station’s specs, the security protocols and codes. Every time, they received either the appropriately wrong information or a security lockout. Perfect.
By the time Nevitt joined the team, they were floating on a cloud of success. As soon as she stepped in and cast a keen eye around the room, she nodded.
“I gather you accomplished your mission.”
“Yes, Captain,” Fallon said. Nevitt arched an eyebrow at her and Fallon corrected herself. “Hesta. Colb won’t be able to gather any intelligence that could potentially hurt us.”
“Good. The idea of that man on my station makes me itch,” Nevitt said.
“Thank you for keeping him busy,” Raptor said. “You did an excellent job.”
“Of course I did. I’m fantastic at my job.” Her dry tone made Fallon smile. “Now what?”
“Now we wait for him to lay his trap for us, and we figure out how to walk into it and make it snap closed on him and Krazinski instead.” Fallon had no doubt they’d succeed.
“I’m not sure whether to be excited or terrified,” Nevitt admitted.
“Be excited,” Hawk advised. “When we get the job done, you can brag about how you knew all along it would work.”
“And if it doesn’t?”
He shrugged. “We’ll all be dead and having been terrified won’t have helped any.”
Nevitt narrowed her eyes at him, and then her lips curled into a small smile. “Hawk, I’m beginning to like you.”
Fallon and Raptor monitored every outgoing and incoming signal with excruciating diligence. Colb wasn’t foolish enough to attempt any communication with Krazinski. But it sure would have been helpful to Fallon if he had. Where was a little arrogance from the admiralty when she needed it?
She’d expected Colb to launch right into whatever he had planned for them, but he seemed to be in no rush. Was he doing reconnaissance, or was he stalling? The idea of him stalling made Fallon wonder if her team should hit Blackout at Jamestown immediately, hoping Krazinski wouldn’t be ready for them. But the logistics were far less than ideal, and she’d be walking her team into an unknown situation when she had an alternative. She just had to wait for Colb to set them up.
While she waited for the chance to double-cross Colb’s double-cross, she still had her job to do as the station’s chief of security. So she did it.
She made her midday rounds as usual. The boardwalk was extra lively, which was the norm when the Onari was visiting. Fallon suspected that enthusiasm would fade, now that Dragonfire served as its home base.
Thinking of that reminded her that she hadn’t talked to Brannin yet about the Onari’s presence at Dragonfire. Hesta had said that she’d need to be the one to deliver the news. They didn’t want to step on his toes, or make him think his skills were inadequate. But she couldn’t tell him about her real reason for wanting her allies close at hand. So the situation would require finesse.
She put that thought away for later when she saw Nix and her friend Robert come trotting out of Cabot Layne’s shop, beaming at her.
“Hi, Chief!”
“Hey, Chief!”
Their ringing greetings made her smile. “Hey, you two. What do you have there?” She peered at the bundle in Nix’s arms.
“Art supplies,” Nix answered. “We’re supposed to create something in the neo-industrial style.”
“Huh,” Fallon said. Neo-industrial always seemed to her less like art and more like mechanics that did nothing. But far be it from her to second-guess the academic instruction on Dragonfire. “Well, good luck with it. I’ve never been very artistic, myself. I can barely draw a straight line.”
The young teens laughed. “I’m sure you do fine,” Robert assured her.
“I promise you, I’m really bad at it. But that’s okay. We all have things we’re good at.”
A sly expression slid onto Nix’s face. “Speaking of which. You said that if I did well in my classes, you’d arrange a security internship for me. The year’s about up, and I’ll be taking my final exams next week.”
Fallon groaned inwardly. She wanted to see Nix flourish, but this was not a good time. “Do your best and we’ll see what we can arrange,” she promised.
“I’m going to get all firsts, like you said.” The spark of determination in Nix’s eyes reminded Fallon of herself at a younger age. She had to smile.
“I believe you.”
Robert tugged on Nix’s upper arm. “We’d better get back. Lunch period is almost over. Want me to carry that?”
“Nope. I got it. Bye, Chief!”
The two disappeared as fast as they’d popped up. Fallon stood looking after them, thinking how nice it would be to have such simple goals.
“Bundle of energy, aren’t they?” Cabot stepped out of his shop.
“Oh, yes. I’m always glad to see them.”
“They make me smile, too.” He gave her a proper bow, in accordance with her status on the station.
“You don’t have to bow,” she told him. “I think we’re friends enough that we can dispense with it.”
“Is that right?” He seemed surprised. “I’ll have to think about that. I don’t know that I’d feel right not bowing to you.” Cabot gestured to the door of his shop. “Would you like to come in for a minute?”
“Thank you. That would be nice.”
He followed her in and closed the door behind them. This was not unusual behavior in his shop, since he always offered complete discretion. No one would take it amiss.
“You okay, Chief?” He guided her to a chair and materialized a cup of hot tea from somewhere, then pressed it into her hand.
“Yes. Of course. I just have a lot of people depending on me.”
He nodded slowly as he sat across from her. “I’m sure that’s a great deal of pressure.”
“No,” she denied. “I actually like doing security. I like making sure people are okay.”
“But…” he prodded.
“No, there’s no but. I’ve been working hard lately. That’s all.”
“Would it help if I told you I’m glad you’re the one doing…whatever thing you’re doing?”
She had to chuckle. “A little.” He probably knew, or at least suspected, a lot more than he let on.
“If there’s anything I can do to help, let me know.” He stared at her hard. “I mean it. Anything.”
Okay, he definitely knew more than he let on.
“Understood. Thanks.” She took a deep breath and let it out slowly, as her father had taught her to do as a child when she needed to focus. “I should get back to work.”
“One second.” He rose. “I want to give you something.” He disappeared into the back of his store, behind the counter. He returned only a moment later, grasping something.
He placed it on the table in front of her. It was a small silver rectangle.
“What is it?” she asked.
“It’s a good-luck piece. Davitrian. Ancient. The legends say that it has so much luck in it, it could suck up all the power within a nine-meter radius.” He laughed. “Perhaps its luck will rub off on you.”
She stared at the thing. It was no more ancient than she was. It was cutting-edge technology. And from what he was saying, it would temporarily knock out all electrical systems within ten meters. She wanted to ask him where he’d gotten it, but she couldn’t. If he knew what he was giving her and she knew what she was receiving, it would make them both criminals. Not that she wasn’t already one, technically, but there was no reason to bring him along for the ride.
“Thank you. I could use some luck.”
He smiled, and the light in his eyes showed amusement at their subterfuge. “And you deserve it.” He started to bow, but caug
ht himself. “I’ll work on the bowing thing.”
She gave him a deep bow, far more than a PAC officer would ever give a shopkeep. “It’s my honor, Cabot. You’re a good friend.”
He looked surprised, then pleased, and finally he reverted to his benign, pleasant expression. “Whatever I can do.”
“One of these days, we’re going to have a very long talk.”
He laughed as he showed her out.
She finished her rounds with a sense of contentment. The exchange with Cabot probably shouldn’t have mattered to her, in the grand scheme of everything she was trying to do, but it did. It was nice to have a friend.
When Fallon finished her duty shift, she still struggled under the burden of not having discovered Colb’s plans. Rather than brood over events she couldn’t control, she allowed herself to feel a moment of serenity in the eye of the storm. The next phase would happen when it happened, and when it did, she’d be ready.
Since her last task of the day had taken her to Deck One, Fallon stopped by the Bennite restaurant. She cradled a warm bundle of stew and bread as she walked to the lift, looking forward to a quiet evening in her quarters.
Until she saw Wren waiting for her.
“Hi,” Fallon said, not knowing what to expect.
“Hi.” Wren twinkled with playfulness.
Since Wren just stood there smiling at her, Fallon asked, “What’s up?”
“I thought I’d catch you at the lift to see if we could have dinner, but you already have that covered.” Wren’s gaze bounced down to the package Fallon held and back up.
“Sorry. Maybe tomorrow?”
“How about I grab some takeout of my own and meet you at your quarters?”
Peregrine might be there, but Fallon didn’t mind that. She tried to think of some other reason to decline, but couldn’t. “All right,” she finally agreed.
“Great! I’ll meet you there in a few minutes.” Wren turned to go.
“Actually, I’ll wait here for you. That way you won’t need a temporary passcode for Deck Four.”
“Great. I’ll be right back.”
Fallon’s food would stay plenty warm, so she didn’t mind waiting. But she wondered what Wren wanted. Not that she had to want something. Fallon still had no handle on where they stood with each other. She leaned against a bulkhead with her dinner warming her chest and her arms, trying to figure out how to approach the evening. Like a date? Like a get-together with a pal? She had no tactical plan.
Within minutes Wren was back, holding her own bundle of food. “Let’s go! I’m starved.”
“Busy day?” Fallon asked as they rode the lift up.
“Oh, that doesn’t even begin to cover it. I had to interview mechanics via the voicecom. I talked to eight people and though they all seemed decent enough, none of them is half as good as Josef. He and I work so well together. He’s one of those coworkers that you can’t replace, you know?”
Fallon shifted the food she carried and leaned against the lift wall. “I saw the report that he was leaving. Where’s he headed?”
“He’s got a job as a private mechanic on Caravon, working on the personal vehicles of a super-rich person. He’ll be on call at all times, but for the most part, he’ll just be keeping the newest models shiny. A huge salary for not much work. Living on Caravon will be no hardship, either.”
The lift doors opened to Deck Four. “You could get a job like that,” Fallon said as she led the way to her quarters.
“And be bored out of my mind? No thanks. I like the tough cases. Like the assembly block I was working on after the interviews.”
Fallon keyed in her credentials to unlock the door. “Taking out your frustration on an innocent engine?”
Wren laughed as she followed Fallon in. “Absolutely.” She glanced around, saw the table on the far side of the room, and sent Fallon a questioning look.
Fallon nodded, moving toward it. She noticed Wren taking stock of her new digs, but trying to be subtle about it. “I hope you’re feeling better now that the interviews are done.”
“Some.” Wren pushed her package onto the table and took a seat. “I thought having dinner with you would take the remaining edge off.”
Fallon unwrapped her bread and opened the container for her stew. “I wasn’t aware that my presence was particularly soothing.”
Wren smiled. “It’s not. But you always manage to make me forget about work stuff.”
“Do I?”
“It’s one of the things that’s always attracted me to you.” Wren opened her lightweight recyclable container and speared a vegetable from her sauté with her fork. “You fill a room with your presence and make it entirely impossible to ignore you. You give everything weight. Like this dinner. Just having this meal feels like something significant.”
“I never knew you felt that way.” Fallon put a spoonful of stew in her mouth and sighed as the rich flavors spread across her taste buds.
“I didn’t think of it that way until we were apart.” Wren shrugged, downplaying her words. “Sometimes you don’t think too hard about things when you’re happy. You take things as they are, you know?”
Fallon took her time chewing, then finally answered, “Yeah. Makes sense.”
A companionable silence fell between them for a few minutes.
“Tell me about that assembly block you were working on,” Fallon said.
Wren brightened and launched into a speech full of technobabble that Fallon could only somewhat follow. She’d known what she was getting herself into when she asked, though. Wren loved her work, and it made her happy to talk about it.
Fallon’s mild unease with Wren wore off. They knew each other well. They had history. Fallon still enjoyed her company and had nothing to be uptight about.
Wren paused in her description of phase transducers, tilting her head to one side. “What?”
“Nothing. I’m just having a nice time.”
A smile lit Wren’s face. “Me too.” Then she launched right back into her mechanic-speak.
At the end of the evening, Wren suggested it was time for her to go and there was a pause where Fallon could have suggested she stay. She didn’t. She wanted the evening to be only what it was, completely at face value. She didn’t feel like she and Wren were in the right place for there to be more.
At the door, Wren leaned in, cupped Fallon’s face, and gave her a light kiss. Fallon rested a hand on Wren’s waist.
Then Wren stepped back. “Good night,” she said softly, her cheeks pink.
The doors opened.
“Good night. Thanks for…this,” Fallon finished lamely.
Wren only smiled, turned, and disappeared from view.
Fallon walked back across the living room she shared with Peregrine, her steps slow and ponderous. She didn’t feel like sleeping. Or working, either.
She half perched on the arm of the couch, wondering what to do. A sound at the door drew her attention, and a moment later Peregrine entered.
The doors closed behind her and she sent Fallon a questioning look.
Fallon shrugged. “Trying to figure out what to do. I’m used to having clear-cut goals and the means to achieve them, and there are just too many shades of gray in my life right now.”
Peregrine bounced farther into the room on the balls of her feet, looking like a prizefighter. “Sounds like you need to go a few rounds to clear your head.”
Fallon touched her head in the general area where Brak had implanted the inducer that allowed her to access her memories. “I’m cleared for normal activity, but that nasty jab of yours probably isn’t a good idea until we’re sure this thing will stand up to a beating.”
Peregrine dropped her fighting stance. “Too bad. I could use a good bout, myself.”
“Why? Something wrong?”
“Nah. Not really. I just miss the old days. Taking out assassins before they could ice their targets, rappelling down the side of the building for a hasty retreat, taking importan
t things from important people.”
“Getting shot at,” Fallon pointed out. Their typical work came with a drawback here and there.
“Yeah.” Peregrine sighed wistfully. Apparently she had fonder memories of dodging stinger blasts than Fallon did. “I don’t mind being stationed in one place. I just miss the action. We could use something to break up the monotony.”
“I know. Sometimes it feels like we’re stuck in a revolving door, spinning in circles.”
Peregrine sat on the other couch arm. “I don’t want to sound like I’m complaining, but yes. There have been plenty of jobs where we had to sit tight, waiting for an event to occur, and I don’t mind that because we know what we’re waiting for. In this case, I feel like we’re operating in a void. Wasting time with so much meeting and talking.” She hurried her next words. “Not that we don’t need the meetings. I just…”
“Hate them,” Fallon finished for her.
Peregrine’s lips twitched upward. “I wouldn’t say that. But yeah. I’d rather do less meeting and talking and more doing.”
“Me too. We’ll get there. We just need to persevere through this part. Krazinski knows we can do the action stuff. But he doesn’t know we’re more than highly trained beasts. He doesn’t know how much we’re capable of as a team.”
Peregrine ran her hand over her long ponytail. “We’re playing the long game. I know. But maybe your time as security chief here has prepared you for it better than the rest of us.”
“If I can adjust, so can you.”
“Maybe. I’m not counting on it, though.” When Fallon started to talk, Peregrine cut her off. “It’s fine. I’m fine. I’ll be here for whatever you need, giving it my best. I just don’t think I’m cut out for bureaucracy is all I’m saying.”
“None of us planned on being administrators. We’re just working the op in the only way we can.” If Fallon could have left all these meetings and planning sessions to someone else, she surely would have. And while she was wishing, she’d wish away her memory loss, too. But wishes were for children and fairy tales. All Fallon had was cold, hard reality.
Peregrine stood. “I’m not railing against my circumstances. I’m just wondering what it means for the future.” She sighed. “I know I have too much time on my hands when I’m thinking about the future.”
