by Scott Moon
Caution seemed in order.
“I’ve got an injured Marine on our perimeter. Looks like SMC, probably an officer. No helmet or boots. Not sure about hands,” Priest said.
“Do you think she could be an escaped prisoner?” McCraw asked without moving closer. She crouched protectively over Burhis.
“I wasn’t aware they took prisoners. I’m going down for a look. Stay where you are and monitor by radio and IR.” Priest moved into the eroded landscape with his weapon ready.
“Robert Priest, is that you?”
Priest keyed his internal mic. “I think it’s Lieutenant Roosevelt. She’s our principal target. I think she’s in rough shape. I’m going to bring her into our perimeter and wait for the rest of the team.”
He swept his infrared flashlight over the scene to check for traps or other dangers. Humans or humanlike adversaries would be unable to see the light beam unless they were also wearing IR lenses in their helmets or viewing devices.
The technology didn’t make him feel safe. He had no idea what spectrum the Sirens, the Siren-nix, or the Burners used to view the world. Controlling his weapon with his right hand in the sling attached to his armor, he reached forward with his left to turn over her body as she whimpered.
She looked sick and half starved. Something wasn’t right with her eyes. He didn’t have time to examine her. Lacy and the rest of the platoon arrived, and he carried Roosevelt inside their temporary perimeter.
“Good to see you in one piece, Lt.,” he said.
“Good to be in one piece.” Priest counted the other members of the platoon, even though that wasn’t strictly his job. He knew Lacy was doing the same for his people.
Frenchie and his fire team were the last to arrive.
Lacy moved toward the principal target of this mission, SMC Lieutenant Roosevelt. She knelt down and stared at the wounded officer. She peeled back the woman’s eyelid, then drew back as though startled.
“Everything okay?” Priest asked.
“Lean down here and look into her eyes. Tell me if you can see the black veins in the sclera. Tell me I’m not losing my mind. Or tell me I am losing my mind in that Lieutenant Roosevelt is good to go,” Lacy said.
Priest made a slow and careful examination. When he was done, he merely nodded.
“Listen, Priest. I need some privacy. I need to talk to this woman. You may hear some of the conversation and it won’t be something you’re likely to forget. But you will forget it. Copy?”
“Understood.” Priest stood guard. His presence and his posture kept people back while the two officers spoke quietly.
“Roosevelt, can you hear me?”
The dark-skinned woman didn’t respond. It was as though she had been struggling to remain conscious until her rescuers arrived but was too exhausted to fight for consciousness.
Lacy sat back on her haunches and dropped both hands to her thighs. “I thought I saw something. Maybe it’s the sleep deprivation and terror talking.”
“You had me worried,” Priest said.
Lacy leaned close to Roosevelt and whispered something in a language Priest didn’t know. He only heard parts of it. He glanced at the pair from time to time. There was no need to face away from them while standing guard. Other Marines were providing security until they got moving.
“I think she’s coming around,” Lacey said.
Priest looked down, sucking his breath as he saw the woman’s eyes pop open. This time, he saw the tendrils of blackness in the SMC Lieutenant’s eyes. The lines seem to be moving.
Lacy cursed under her breath. Then, in a louder voice, she confronted Roosevelt. “Get control of it, Lieutenant.”
“You know that’s impossible. Guidis is no longer here to direct us, but we will serve until death. I knew you’d been taken by his will,” Roosevelt said.
“You can resist it.”
Roosevelt groaned as her body writhed. She closed her eyes so forcefully, it seemed to cause her more pain. She cursed in several languages, including the one Priest had heard and not understood.
Lacey grabbed the wounded by her throat and pressed her hard against the ground. “Remember who you are. Focus on who you want to be. He’s far from here. His influence is weak. You must resist. If you can’t at least try, I’ll put you out of your misery right now.”
Roosevelt screamed. Seconds passed that felt like lifetimes. She lost consciousness.
Lacy looked to Priest, then the others who were slightly more distant on the perimeter. “Fold out a temp stretcher and strap her down tight. We need to move out immediately. I’m calling for an emergency air lift. We have our principal, which is good news for the Cyclops pilot, because she’ll get a free ride too.”
The SMC Marauders packed up the wounded and moved out in seconds. It was a drill they had practiced thousands of times before having to do it in the field. McCraw and Frenchie set up their squads around the landing zone. The transport landed and the wounded were loaded.
“Get the platoon back to base camp. No side missions, nothing fancy. I’ll need to debrief you as soon as you arrive,” Lacy said.
Priest watched Lacy carefully. She seemed to realize he was suspicious, and why wouldn’t he be? “Yes, Lieutenant. See you at camp.”
6
The Escaping Doctor
“I’ve never seen you show so much emotion! This is great! You’re actually a living, breathing human being,” Kimberly said.
“This isn’t a stealth ship!” Felton screamed, leaning forward red-faced and wide-eyed.
Kimberly remained standing with effort. The cockpit was needlessly small like all UNA frigates. From what she had seen during her time in the Siris shipyard, pilots for these types of crafts wanted to look, act, and feel like fighter jocks .
Dbonden interrupted coolly, “She’s a smuggler, Felt. Listen to her.”
Kimberly adjusted her girls, picked at the rather formless flight suit that did nothing to accentuate her figure, and ran a hand through her hair. “Space is a big place. Blockade patrol ships look for certain things—navigations and engine signatures mostly.”
Felton calmed himself, but his face was still red. Dbonden listened as though she were a professor giving a lecture and he was pretending to be a skeptical student who would become an ass-kissing sycophant when the time was right. It wasn’t her favorite manipulation tactic, but she did it better than he did.
She stepped forward, feeling like herself. “We launch hard and cut everything. No navigation and no engines once we break atmosphere.”
“And take forty years to leave the Siris system,” Felton said.
“We can do up to five burns as long as they’re short and full throttle. We don’t have to get out of the system, just far enough ahead to stay ahead.” She turned her back on Felton and moved into Dbonden’s personal space. “This is the fastest ship Danzig offered us, right?”
“It’s fast because his ship engineers are taking all the weapons off,” Dbonden said neutrally, almost seeming to check her for a reaction. He maintained good eye contact and she didn’t think he was an idiot.
Felton walked to the co-pilot’s seat shaking his head. “I don’t fucking like this. I have been running blockades since I was a kid. Can’t be done without a stealth ship.”
Kimberly and Dbonden continued to stare at each other from less than arm’s reach. “That’s too bad about the weapons. We could’ve sold them,” she said.
Dbonden smiled.
She completed her inspection of the ship, focusing on details she imagined a proper captain would look for, then checked the rest from a list the computer provided. The hold came last, which meant the prisoner came last.
The infamous Dr. Marc Robedeaux sat staring at the closed deployment ramp.
“A genius like you should have been able to escape by now,” she said.
“You don’t like me, do you, Miss DeVries,” Robedeaux said.
She spoke through an exaggerated smile. “I don’t like anyo
ne.”
He laughed kindly. “I’m too old for that line to work. Don’t try to bullshit a bullshitter.”
She gave him the “whatever” look and finished the mundane part of this mission. About fifteen minutes later, she realized Robedeaux had something in his hands other than his broken pride.
Dbonden and Felton were even farther from the doctor than she was.
The deployment ramp creaked open. Dr. Robedeaux hurled the control box aside, where it swung on the cable that allowed it to be moved out of the way of cargo. The faceplate was missing, wires exposed.
Why didn’t I see that! She sprinted toward the doctor, lunged, missed, and fell hard.
For an old man, he was quick through the gap at the top of the descending ramp.
Felton and Dbonden went after him. Kimberly scrambled to her feet and quickly overtook them.
“Damn!” Felton exclaimed as she blew past him.
The UNA camp was dark and felt darker under a sky dense with stars and the red nebula that seemed a lot nearer than it was. She knew the tents, temporary buildings, and vehicles were laid out according to a plan, but nothing looked organized in the darkness as she sprinted, sweeping her gaze this way and that for the son-of-a-bitch.
She stopped and put her hands on her hips.
Felton and Dbonden caught up. Both men put their hands on their knees and gasped for air.
“Don’t feel bad,” Dbonden said. “He escaped the best soldiers in the UNA about twenty times.”
Kimberly smoothed back her hair, not sure if she needed to cry or scream. All she wanted to do was sleep...and get a massage before and after an expensive glass of wine. “I’m going to cut your fucking balls off!”
“That’ll bring him right back,” Felton said sarcastically.
“Do we even need him now?” Dbonden said. “Danzig already gave us the ship.”
Kimberly heard what he was saying. She’d already wondered the same thing. The darkness before her changed and captured her attention.
Tion strutted gracefully into the meager camp light. She effortlessly dragged the doctor with a pair of her secondary hands. “The Forever Siren—the Burner Queen now, I suppose—told me to find a certain cargo ship. Does this belong to you?”
She grabbed Robedeaux with one of her primary arms and tossed him at Kimberly’s feet.
Felton and Dbonden laughed.
“It’s not your fucking day,” Dbonden said.
Kimberly was almost certain he was talking to the troublesome doctor. She spoke to Tion. “Why did she want you to find me?”
Tion shrugged and walked toward the frigate Danzig had given them.
“We need a new name for this thing if it is going to be DU property,” Dbonden said.
“How about the Escaping Doctor?” Tion suggested.
Both men laughed.
Kimberly didn’t like the joke or the name.
“Strap in, Kim. It’s about to get real,” Felton said as he flicked switches on the control panel and pushed the flight stick side to side several times to get the feel of it.
“Don’t call me Kim.”
Felton paused and looked at her. “Can’t call you Kimberly. Can’t call you Miss DeVries. What the hell can we call you?”
She leaned close, almost as though she would kiss him on the mouth, then whispered softly, “Just don’t talk to me at all.”
She pulled back slowly, keeping her eyes locked on him, holding his attention completely. When she casually went to her seat and secured the harness, it was like poetry in motion.
Dbonden and the doctor also watched her. She adjusted her headset and spoke to the officer in charge of air traffic control.
“Flight 189 ready for liftoff and disembarkation from the system,” she said.
“Control to Flight 189, the pattern is clear. Extremely clear. As in no one leaves without the admiral’s authority.”
“You’re so cute,” she said, not bothering to argue with the man. She waited patiently. Dbonden, Felton, and Dr. Robedeaux shifted nervously. Tion watched as though she might burst into an emotionless killing spree.
“Control for Flight 189, you have approval.” The voice didn’t sound happy.
“Thank you, Control.”
“Please follow protocol and proper radio traffic in the future.”
“Right, because your little quip about the pattern being extremely clear was uber professional,” Kimberly said. “You see a woman you want to believe is a slut, and maybe I am. But I’m also that girl who will throat punch you. We’ll talk again when I bring back reinforcements.”
She terminated the connection.
“You’re a total bitch,” Felton said. “I’m starting to like you.”
“Mutual. Not that I am calling you a bitch.”
“No need to explain further.” Felton initiated the launch sequence.
“This misadventure just gets stranger and stranger,” Dr. Robedeaux said.
The frigate rumbled as thrusters pushed away from the planet. At first, it only felt like the ship was breaking apart, then everything solidified and they were smashed into their seats.
“Remember to launch hard, then coast,” Kimberly said.
Felton grimaced without taking his attention from the controls. “Gotcha.”
Kimberly closed her eyes, hating the pressure on her face and chest most of all. Spots danced in her vision. She thought of home and her father despite never wanting to think of either again. Only the present mattered. She didn’t need to go back to that life—constantly protected, guided, shaped for some future she had no control of.
If I’m a bitch, it’s because I’ve had to be just to stay independent. Flexing her fists, she worried about her brother and got angry with him at the same time. What the hell had happened to him and why wasn’t he here protecting her like he always promised he would?
The Escaping Doctor hit each layer of atmosphere hard, jouncing the ship side to side.
I can’t breathe.
She turned her eyes toward Tion, half expecting the Siren to stand up and stroll about the ship as though nothing was happening. The Siren looked like she was being crushed worse than the human crew. The seats weren’t made for the extra arms on her back. The black-skinned, mostly black-haired alien didn’t make a sound. Her expression was that of determined concentration.
Felton, Dbonden, and the doctor all looked like every other man she’d seen on this type of hard launch. She hadn’t done many. First class commercial used a gradual ascent to the upper stratosphere before initiating thrusters. This was a smuggler’s tactic, so crude and brutal that even the Starship Corps military rarely used it.
The thought worried her, but she dismissed it as a necessary risk. Perhaps the Burners were smart enough to see the anomaly of such a launch, but she had no other choice. All she could do was pray they weren’t watching her takeoff site and would thus fail to notice a ship being fired like a bullet into space.
“Cut the thrusters,” she said.
“It’s too soon,” Felton said.
“Cut. The. Thrusters.”
He pushed the sliders down to zero. The Escaping Doctor sailed free of the upper atmosphere.
Burner ships were everywhere, glowing with energy but lacking the nearly explosive power that radiated from the ground units she’d seen.
Everyone on the ship leaned toward the main monitor. Silent tension filled the ship. The only noise was the hull adjusting to the coldness of the void.
“Are their ships in standby mode or something?” Dbonden asked.
Kimberly didn’t comment. Neither did the doctor or Tion, the two people on the ship she expected to know the answer.
The Escaping Doctor, small and insignificant in the void, glided between massive alien cruisers. Smaller vessels whipped between the motherships, frenetic with activity.
“I really hope you know what you’re doing, Miss DeVries,” Doctor Robedeaux said.
“We will pass among the enemy witho
ut incident,” Tion said.
Kimberly and the others faced the Siren.
“Unless you panic, as you humans are prone to do,” Tion said. She removed her safety harness then moved from the main cabin in search of her quarters.
“I’ll show you where you can go on the ship,” Dbonden said, rushing after her.
“I will go where I want,” Tion said.
Kimberly ignored them as alerts chimed on the control panel.
“It’s been nice knowing you, DeVries,” Felton said.
“Keep your pants on, tough guy,” she said, watching a pair of small Burner ships on an intercept course with the Escaping Doctor. “They’ll have a look and move on. But only if you shut down life support right now.”
Felton obeyed without question.
The temperature began to drop. The air felt stuffy despite the knowledge that the change wouldn’t happen so fast. It wasn’t like they had been breached and faced a violent decompression as atmosphere sprayed into the void.
“I hope the insulation on this ship is up to SNC standards,” Felton said.
“It is.”
“You can’t possibly know that. Have you checked every part of the ship?” Felton asked.
“Danzig wants us to succeed. He gave us the best ship he had that suited the mission.”
“Sure, but you can’t know what kind of condition his ‘best ship’ is in after being forced to land.”
“It’s in the condition it’s in,” she said, watching the screens. “We will find out momentarily.”
The Burners, fighter ships of some sort, shot past them without slowing.
Felton let out a whoosh of breath. “That went well.”
“Stick with me, Felt. You ain’t seen nothing yet.
7
Bad Faith
“I must have your answer,” the Burner Queen said. “I must have your oath.”
Kevin stood his ground. “An oath given under duress isn’t binding.”
“So you say.”
“Let me see Ace and Amanda.”
