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

by Zen DiPietro

  “How about we go to the training rooms and work on some target practice?”

  “Stingers or knives?” Peregrine asked.

  “Either. Both.”

  The crinkle between Peregrine’s eyes finally smoothed. “Go grab your knives.”

  Fallon fell into bed tired, but satisfied. Target practice always made her happy, and Peregrine’s spirits seemed to have lifted, as well.

  She half expected Raptor to pull his nighttime commando routine as she drifted to sleep, but it was a call from Colb that woke her two hours before her usual time.

  “What is it?” she asked the voicecom display in her room, using an audio-only feed. Colb didn’t need to see what she looked like first thing in the morning.

  “I’ve figured it out. How we can get in. Meet me in my quarters in ten minutes.”

  The channel closed. Admirals were accustomed to giving an order and having everyone scramble to obey.

  If she hurried, she’d have time to take a quick shower and smooth out her hair.

  Eight and a half minutes later, she settled herself in Colb’s quarters, which were a mirror of her own, but unshared by a roommate. Another privilege of the admiralty.

  Peregrine and Ross were already there, and Hawk and Raptor followed within moments of each other.

  “I’ll get right to it.” Colb paced the quarters in a leisurely fashion. “I’ve been trying to work out how to get into Jamestown, given that Krazinski will be watching for us, and will have changed everything specifically to keep us out.”

  They waited, letting the admiral have his moment.

  “I’ve worked through every scenario, and I kept coming to the same conclusion: it can’t be done. There’s no way for us to break in.”

  Fallon exchanged a look with her team. She wondered where Colb was going with this. She’d been working scenarios as well and had come up with two plans that had a chance of success. Not that she would share that information with Colb.

  “So what are we going to do?” she asked.

  “We have to get them to let us in. So I’m going to tell Krazinski that a taste of life on the outside has convinced me to rejoin him. You five will be my supposed peace offering, led here under the guise of attacking him.”

  It sounded awfully thin to Fallon. She was supposed to believe that Colb thought Krazinski would actually take him back into the organization under those circumstances. Once trust was broken in intel, there was no mending fences.

  But Colb wasn’t a field operative. He saw things from a more top-down perspective, where everything he said was law, and it was the job of people like her to accept it.

  Agreeing too easily might make him suspicious, so she said, “How do you know Krazinski won’t kill you anyway?”

  He paused in his pacing and drew himself up. “I don’t. He might. But the doors will have been opened, so to speak, and the rest of you will have your chance.”

  Ah, so he was pretending to be willing to sacrifice himself for the greater good. That was clever, actually. A group of BlackOps would buy into heroism and martyrdom, right?

  But she said, “We won’t be able to plan the assault. We have no idea what we’ll be dealing with in there.”

  “It’s the chance we have. We’ll have to find a way,” Colb said.

  Fallon had to give the man credit—he looked sincere. Stalwart. Prepared to fight the good fight.

  “When do we get under way?” she asked.

  As Fallon prepared to leave Dragonfire, she had to deal with reality. Colb’s plan was a lie, but the danger was real. There was a reasonable possibility she wouldn’t return.

  She felt the need to make a few visits before she left. Fortunately, she had two hours before departure time. That would allow her to get done what she needed to, without allowing her to drag it out.

  Captain Nevitt’s office was her first stop. Naturally, Hesta had some opinions on the matter.

  “Your doubt is duly noted,” Fallon said. “It is risky. But I’m accustomed to calculated risk, and this course of action gives us the best chance of success.”

  Nevitt wore her patented look of dubious disdain. “I shudder to think what your second and third choice plans were.”

  Fallon smiled. “We’ll not speak of them. Anyway, I’ve left you some files in case I don’t return. Things that will help you know who you can or can’t trust, and details about station security. There’s also a program to return the station’s systems to normal once Colb has disembarked.”

  “I appreciate all that. I can only hope you’re successful. For the good of the PAC, but also because I want to see you back here.”

  “Thank you, Cap—Hesta. I plan to come back.”

  “See that you do.” Hesta’s words were crisp, but her expression showed concern.

  Fallon’s visit with Brak and Jerin was brief and to the point. She filled them in on her upcoming mission and instructed them on what to watch for and how best to protect the Onari from the war that would come if Fallon didn’t return.

  Both gave her hugs and well wishes. Fallon was glad they had each other to talk to. She knew firsthand how lonely it could be to keep a secret to herself.

  Her next stop would be a trickier one. On the way down to Cabot’s shop, she tried to decide what to say. With the others it had been easier, since the relationships were defined. With Cabot, she had more questions than answers, but in her gut she trusted him to be a man of good character, although of sketchy means.

  He gave her a knowing look when she entered his shop, and he closed the door to give them privacy.

  “What can I do for you today, Chief?”

  “To be honest, I’m not sure. But I’m leaving the station and felt like I should say goodbye.”

  He gave a slight nod. “Are you thinking of not returning?”

  “Not on purpose. But you never know. If I don’t come back…”

  “I’ll look after your friends and the station.”

  She smiled. “And yourself. Things could get bad if this goes wrong. Very bad.”

  “I understand. But I’m expecting to see you back, so I won’t stress too much just yet.”

  “If I do return, a lot of things will change. I might even have a job for you.”

  He raised a sardonic eyebrow. “I already have a job.”

  “So you wouldn’t be interested?”

  He leaned in closer, as if preparing to tell her a secret. “Oh, I very much would be interested.”

  “Good.”

  “Good.” His demeanor never changed from pleasant and obliging. She could only wonder what all lay beneath his shopkeep persona—and she did believe it to be a persona.

  “I’ll be on my way.”

  “Best wishes, Chief. And don’t forget that charm I gave you.” He looked at her meaningfully.

  “Got it in my pocket,” she assured him.

  “Ah, good.”

  She caught a hint of fierceness in his eyes before turning to leave.

  In an uncharacteristic burst of uncertainty, Fallon waffled back and forth about the last goodbye on her list. In the end, she decided she’d been a bad enough wife to Wren as it was. She didn’t want to disappear forever without saying goodbye. Not that she was going to. But just in case. A BlackOp never knew which mission would be her last.

  She found Wren in the mechanics’ shop. When Wren turned to see Fallon, her eyes widened with fear. Clearly, she had some inkling about what was to come.

  “Here we are, where we first met,” Fallon said as she approached her former wife.

  “Why? What’s happening?” Wren’s voice was a whisper, even though no one else was close enough to overhear.

  “I have something I need to do.”

  “No. Don’t go.”

  “It’s not optional. But I wanted to tell you goodbye in person.”

  Wren rubbed a hand over her forehead, smearing a thin streak of grease across her skin. It made Fallon smile. “Don’t say goodbye. That makes it sound perma
nent. Just say you love me and you’ll see me soon.”

  Could she say that? With the messy past between them, and her not really knowing what they were to each other? The feeling was there, but saying it would be skipping way ahead of where their relationship currently was.

  But whether they ever worked as a couple or not, she’d always feel deeply for Wren. So she hedged. “I do feel for you. It isn’t perfect and it isn’t easy, but I do.”

  Wren smiled. “I’ll let you get away with not actually saying it.”

  Fallon laughed. Wren was the most resilient person she’d ever known. She would always find her way forward, no matter what. “I’ll see you soon.”

  With her goodbyes said and her just-in-case messages created, Fallon narrowed her focus on what she had to do. She had no idea what would unfold, but it would be big. After these months waiting to go toe-to-toe with Blackout, she was more than ready to go back to where it had all started.

  It would take the Nefarious four days to reach Jamestown. They could get to headquarters sooner if they were willing to burn out some of the ship’s components, but the team had agreed that doing so would be a risk that outweighed its benefits. Colb had pushed for greater speed, but quickly backed down when he saw that the consensus was against him.

  They had a few hidden assets that Colb didn’t know about, and she hoped that would be enough to keep them a step ahead of him. She carried the electricity suppressor Cabot had given her. Kellis had installed the sensor blocker Hawk had acquired for them after the pirate attack. It would make it a lot harder to see the Nefarious coming. Such a device was illegal to have within the PAC zone, but being brought to trial for owning contraband was the least of Fallon’s worries. The fact that she seemed to be developing a habit of acquiring illegal items struck her as ironically amusing.

  Hopefully, their surprises and their awareness of Colb’s duplicity would keep them alive. Some well-placed vainglory didn’t hurt either, and Fallon had faith in her team. This would be their biggest adventure yet. If it all worked out, Hawk would have some fantastic stories to tell at the bar.

  The closer they got to PAC command, the higher her adrenaline soared. By the final day, she couldn’t sleep. Her senses clanged with awareness. She was ready to work.

  She was reluctant to relinquish the bridge of the Nefarious to Peregrine at the end of her shift. She wanted to see everything, be on top of every detail. But they were surrounded only by empty space, so she rose from the pilot’s chair.

  “We’ll be there soon,” Peregrine observed. “Are you ready?”

  “I’ve been ready for months.”

  Peregrine smoothed her long ponytail as she sat. “Ever wonder what life looks like for us once we’re done with all this?”

  “Right now I’m just taking things as they come. But I’m sure restructuring will require creating more oversight and accountability, even in the clandestine divisions.”

  “I’m not made to be a bureaucrat.” Peregrine’s customary frown was firmly in place.

  Fallon paused. Peregrine wouldn’t be mentioning that again right now without a reason. “Are you saying you wouldn’t take part in reorganizing Blackout?” It hadn’t occurred to her that Avian Unit wouldn’t do whatever came next as a team.

  “I’m saying that I’ll never be someone who sits in an office every day, giving orders. You and Raptor could do that. Hawk and I aren’t made that way.” Peregrine fixed Fallon with a steady gaze.

  “You’ve been worried about this.” Fallon wished she’d realized this was weighing on Per so much. Fallon hadn’t been thinking far enough ahead to worry about what came next. Per clearly had.

  “Yes. I’m not sure what my place would be in the new order of Blackout.”

  Fallon put a hand on her partner’s shoulder. “We’ll figure it out when we get there. No matter what, we’re a team, as always.”

  “Right.”

  Fallon wasn’t sure Peregrine sounded entirely convinced. Maybe more like eighty percent. But what else could Fallon say? She could only keep pushing forward.

  “I mean it. We’ve gotten through everything else. We’ll figure that out too. Blood and bone,” she reminded Peregrine.

  Peregrine nodded. “Blood and bone.” At least in that, she sounded one hundred percent confident.

  Fallon paused at the door to her quarters, then went past it to Raptor’s. He might still be sleeping, but he was due to be up soon anyway.

  The door opened immediately, and she was surprised to see Ross inside. Raptor waved her in.

  “Hey. Anything up?” She hoped she didn’t have more existential crises on her hands. Their team needed to be focused on the mission ahead, and nothing else.

  Ross looked up at her and smiled, but the hand he raked through his shaggy hair belied his attempt at reassurance. “Would you believe we were talking about the Terran pegball championships?”

  “No.”

  “Well, scrap. The truth is, I’m nervous about this mission. I don’t like going into a situation with so many unknowns.”

  “It’s not my favorite either.” She leaned against the wall. “But we work with what we’ve got. This is our best shot.”

  “I know. But I haven’t seen as much of this kind of op as the rest of you. Until recently, I’d spent the last decade teaching teenagers at the academy. It’s not exactly high-stakes stuff.”

  She glanced at Raptor, but he didn’t seem concerned. Ross was simply having some nerves, then. Fortunately, he’d gone to the right person to talk him through it. That let Fallon off the hook, though as the team leader she still had an obligation to be sure that they could count on Ross.

  “You’ll be staying on board the Nefarious, anyway. Someone needs to, and you’re the next-best pilot. If we’re lucky, you’ll only be minding the store while we’re gone.” And if they weren’t, he might have to engage in some tricky maneuvers to keep the ship safe. But she didn’t think saying so would do much to calm his nerves.

  “It’s too bad we couldn’t bring that engineer friend of yours. The one you want to recruit. Would have been comforting to know that if we take damage, someone could repair it.” Ross had relaxed some, so she judged that he was only thinking out loud.

  “Kellis. Yeah, I’d have liked to have her along for this one too. But she’s too green for something this intense. Just our quick pop into the Tokyo base had her white-faced and edgy. She needs training before she can be useful in high-stress situations.”

  “Hopefully in the future,” Raptor added.

  “I hope so.” She suspected that Raptor and Ross needed to do more talking, so she pulled away from the wall. “Well, I’m going to go check in on our dear admiral.”

  “Better you than me.” Raptor didn’t smile. “One of the perks of being our fearless leader.”

  “It’s not a bad job, all in all. I think I’ll keep it.”

  Fallon gave Colb the proper bow, not that he deserved it. She’d be glad when she could drop the charade. Showing respect to a man who might cause the PAC’s destruction made her grind her teeth. Never mind what she’d gone through when she’d lost her memory. But she was good at her job and let none of this show.

  “I hope you’re well, Admiral.” She didn’t ask to enter his room and he didn’t invite her.

  “As well as can be expected. I have to admit, the stress of all this has taken its toll, and I’m spending a good deal of time resting, so I can be ready for what’s ahead.”

  “That’s good. We’ll need you.”

  “You’ll be able to count on me.” He smiled at her. “I never missed a single one of your competitions, did I?”

  She remembered him sitting with her parents, quietly cheering her on at the various combat tournaments she’d competed in as a youth. His face communicated only fondness and pride.

  “Never.” She smiled warmly. “Uncle Masumi was always there.”

  He chuckled, looking nostalgic. “I haven’t heard you call me that in many years. Funny
what this uniform does to us.” He smoothed his hands down the front of his admiral’s uniform.

  “Yes. It is.” At least that statement she wholeheartedly meant. She stepped back. “I’ll leave you to rest.”

  “Thank you for checking in on me. I hope you know I’ve always been as proud of you as if you were my own daughter.”

  She bowed. “Thank you. I can’t tell you what that means to me.”

  As she returned to her own quarters, she burned with anger. She didn’t soothe it away. Anger wasn’t always a bad thing. She wanted it. She’d use it for what was to come.

  She tried to lie down and sleep, but her body wasn’t having it. Sighing, she sat up and began studying the schematics of Jamestown she had on her voicecom display. Not that the schematics were likely to help, because Krazinski would have altered things. And not that she didn’t already have every detail committed to memory. But she had nothing else to do with her time. She could think of only the job ahead, and she couldn’t afford to work out until exhaustion. She needed her body to be strong and ready.

  So she waited out the final hours alone. Ironic, maybe, for someone with two love interests, and one of them sleeping next door. But she would always be herself before she was someone’s lover. She was a soldier. A warrior. A person who got shit done.

  She rolled out of her bunk before it was time to relieve Hawk on the bridge. After putting on a clean jumpsuit, she took the long way through the ship.

  Long tradition held that a captain toured her ship before a major battle. Fallon was far from a traditional captain, but she felt like the Nefarious belonged to her. She’d crawled through every conduit and memorized every system. She always felt the bridge was hers, and only on loan to anyone else.

  She was proud of her ship and her team. Of her service record. Of her attempt to save the PAC. If this was the mission she didn’t come back from, she had no regrets, so long as they saved the PAC.

  When she arrived on the bridge, Hawk squinted at her. “Prelin’s ass, you look like you’re ready to chew straight through the hull of Jamestown.”