She eased her hand out from under his and met his gaze without quite meeting it. “Let’s go see if there is going to be a mission. The Colonel hasn’t spoken yet.” She turned away.
“Rachel?”
She turned back, her heart caught again by how he said her name. He held out his hand. She extended hers, felt his close around hers, clenching briefly. Holding on to him as he held onto her, they headed back to the control room.
It could have given her hope that he wanted to keep her, too, if not for the Urclock that Bangle had turned back on, the ticking that the music couldn’t quite block out. If they survived for the Urclock to cast its vote, what would it be?
Colonel Carey was not a happy CAG. This plan was not only above his pay grade to approve, it was liable to get him busted down to Airman with his wings clipped for this life and the next.
On the side for doing it anyway: it was his job to remove threats.
The two bogeys were clear threats. He could make a case for blowing them up and keeping his wings and maybe his rank. Only he couldn’t blow up a ship with prisoners on it, even when they weren’t sure the prisoner was a prisoner. According to fresh intel from an, in his opinion, unreliable source.
And the proposed rescue mission that might be a new trap? Hard to make that case when it involved risking so many assets on what was a crap shoot, no matter how they wrapped it up in pretty.
“So you’re proposing we invade two hostile ships looking for a prisoner who may or may not be a prisoner?” Not to mention exposing highly sensitive, beyond top secret ships to the enemy, ships that no one was sure would still fly. Allowing access to these ships by the same robots who’d been shooting at them an hour or so ago. Would still be shooting at them—or standing over their unconscious or dead bodies if one of them hadn’t almost caught a virus.
If he were lucky, he’d only be busted to Airman, and not dishonorably discharged. And then thrown in the brig. Or shot. Or both.
On the other hand, he was as pissed off as everyone else. If the image of the woman was real? If she was a prisoner on that ship? Then he wanted to step on the spider, too.
“If you decline to assist us,” the one called CabeX said, “then we will do it ourselves.”
If he didn’t speak for his crew, there was no sign of it on the other robot face. Or any other emotion. Even their human guy, Kraye had put on his expressionless face.
“I’m not saying no and,” he added hastily, “I’m not saying yes. I’m thinking.”
“We don’t have a lot of time, Colonel,” Dr. Frank pointed out. “So far the ships aren’t moving, but we can expect either another virus attack or a physical attack on the Najer once they realize their first attack failed. The other thing to consider in your thinking, this nasty spider now knows or will know there is an outpost there. He has already collected a comet drive from a Garradian ship at some point. So he can move around quickly.”
She’d tried to explain the comet drive to him. Waste of time after the part about it making the ship go faster than anything they had. It was a salient point for them going after the ships. Still not a persuader for a rescue mission.
It was also a point in favor of boarding the ships. Disabling the comet drive was something he was sure the Old Man would be for. And if they could steal—take it back? Even better.
“What are they waiting for?” he asked without expecting an answer.
“They believe the virus is rewriting my code. Then they expect me to move on my crew and, once I have subdued them, bring my ship to him,” CabeX said.
And that was another thing to worry about. Apparently, they’d left the access port to his brain open. Partially open.
“If we’d closed it off, they’d know their attack failed,” Dr. Frank had already pointed out. “We’d already be dealing with round two.”
And they might already have exploded into little pieces because round two would be worse than round one. He got that.
The plan might have been something the Doc back on Kikk had come up with. Which kind of surprised him. Right now the meek geek doc kind of reminded him of the Doc—without the Morticia thing. She was not even slightly creepy. She had a good, strategic brain. He liked that. Had a feeling Valyr liked it, too, and a bit more. And speaking of Valyr, she had yet to explain where he’d come from. He’d gotten a lot of “later, if there is a later” looks, now that he thought about it.
“Sergeant City?” He turned to her next.
The plan of attack involved a squad of Marines working with the other motley crew, including this Kraye, who looked a bit too Jack Sparrow for Carey’s taste. That was a lot of risk for her people.
“We’re ready to deploy, sir.” City said with the casual calm that told him she meant it.
His gaze moved on. He didn’t like risking the doc. The other guy? He was neutral. Guy could decide for himself what he wanted to do. He still wasn’t clear on why he or the doc needed to go. Okay, if there were a prisoner, she’d probably need medical care and cracking the ship systems would be easier for this Valyr now that he’d cracked their virus. They exhibited high confidence they could take both ships. Which they needed to do to find the comet drive or the prisoner. He didn’t say it, but he thought it. If one of them got shot or disabled, they’d have a backup brain.
He studied Frank while he considered the pros and cons. He had to admit she looked different from she had the last time he’d seen her. He knew what it was. He’d seen new pilots who looked like her over and over again. They arrived looking fresh and eager and they—grew up. Not that she’d looked fresh or eager. Mostly she appeared subdued. But their little doc had grown up a lot since the last time he’d had breakfast with her.
“I’m a good shot,” she told him, “and people tend to under estimate me.”
He could believe the under estimate part. The good shot? He’d have to see that to believe it.
“It’s not the best plan,” Frank admitted, “but with the intel we have…”
It wasn’t the worst plan either. The Najer, accompanied by the cloaked squadron, would close on the bogey’s as if CabeX was delivering them to the spider—his brain didn’t like thinking about that. Flying two Garradian shuttles using phased cloaking, two teams would intercept the bogies—there was a nice neutral way of saying glide partway into the bogey’s engineering sections and look for the comet drive and the prisoner. Then they’d disable both ships, or retreat and disable them with extreme prejudice. Their hope was that during all this the spider would be licking his spider chops at the thought of the Najer belonging to him. Did spiders have chops? Carey knew he had a lot of something.
Carey had a better shot at forgiveness if he could deliver a comet drive and those ships to the Old Man. There was a lot that could go wrong, but also a few things that could go right if he ended up explaining it to the Old Man.
Two robots—they couldn’t risk bringing any more down to join the assault force when the bogey would have eyes on them, and their shuttle pilot had to return to the Najer to make it look like CabeX was acting according to the virus—the Marines and three humans. Without the robots, he’d have already said no, but those dudes were packing.
“What if they get the virus into one or more of your crew?” Carey asked, trying to think like the Old Man, find the holes.
“They will self-destruct,” CabeX said flatly.
Blowing them all to hell and back.
At least if that happened, he wouldn’t have to explain anything to anyone. Well, when his brain wasn’t sure what to do, he tended to go with his gut.
“Let’s do it,” he said. What the crap, he’d always hated spiders.
Rachel couldn’t believe she’d almost forgotten about Sir Rupert. She found him sitting next to her battle armor when she came to put it back on. To be fair, she had had a lot on her mind. She still had a lot on her mind. She sat down next to him.
“I’m sorry.”
“There are wider issues in play,” he said c
almly. He edged closer to Rachel when Sergeant City came into view, stopping in surprise. He swept out a wing in what Rachel took to be an invitation. “Please join us, Sergeant.”
After a brief hesitation, City came closer. Rachel wouldn’t call it “joining,” but at least it wasn’t an outright rejection.
Sir Rupert regarded City with his head to the side. He ruffled his feathers. “I wish to travel with you, Sergeant City.”
“Travel? With me? Where—”
“You will be in the second shuttle, will you not?”
City’s jaw tried to drop, if she hadn’t been a Marine, it would have full on dropped. She nodded with considerable caution. It was the most reaction Rachel had seen from any Marine, ever.
Sir Rupert turned back to Rachel. “I will go with City. I can ride on the pirate’s shoulder.”
Rachel started to protest, but it was a laugh that wanted to come out, so she bit her lower lip instead. Over the parrot’s head, City arched her brows, her eyes asking for help. Rachel was sorry she couldn’t provide it.
“You’ll find him quite…helpful…if you listen to him,” she said, with a careful emphasis on the last. She tried to say it with her eyes, too, since her lips couldn’t. She was not authorized to tell his secret, particularly when they were heading into enemy territory.
City hesitated, did something with her chin that could have been agreement or incredulity. “I’ll let the pirate know he’s got a…passenger.” She stalked away.
“That went better than I expected,” Sir Rupert said.
Rachel couldn’t argue with that.
Carey had asked City to do the mission briefing and given her operational command, since she’d be on the ground, well, aboard one of the Garradian ships. He’d be too far away to effectively issue orders in response to unexpected events. The Najer, Carey and his squadron connected to the briefing by Bangle, and everyone down on the outpost in a conference room that Valyr had led them to.
City scanned the room, her gaze bouncing off the parrot “seated” in one of the conference chairs. She hadn’t missed Dr. Frank’s emphasis on the words “if you listen to him” or the significant look that had accompanied the words. She still had no clue what they meant, but she figured Frank had her reasons. Or rather, she hoped Frank had good reasons for wanting the parrot to go along with them.
If the robots thought it odd, well, they couldn’t show it. They’d not offered a verbal protest when the bird joined them. Kraye, she sighed inside, she hadn’t told him yet.
It hadn’t been as hard to divide up their scarce resources as she’d first thought. It felt more like eeny meany miney mo. They’d even arranged themselves in their assigned groups on either side of the room. The only protest she’d received was from the Dauntless pilot, and the squad of Marines detailed to stay behind and protect their rear.
She pulled up the data Bangle had compiled for her with the mission code name on the first slide. That had been the Colonel’s only suggestion.
Operation Pest Control.
None of the aliens got it, of course. Frank may have choked a little.
“Our operational targets are the two ships that initiated the virus attack, designated Arachnid one and two. We’ll move against them in three prongs,” City explained. She split the screen to show the three prongs of the operation. “The Najer, designated Romeo Flight and Colonel Carey’s squadron, Delta Tango Flight, in cloaking mode, will directly approach A-X and A-Y. Our hope is that this will bolster their belief that their virus attack was successful and that the Najer is surrendering to them. Colonel Carey will exercise operational control of his squadron during the attack.”
“I will be in operational command of our part of the mission.” Would the robots recognize her command authority? That had been Carey’s main concern. It was a question that neither of them could answer. She shifted one side of the split screen to highlight their part of the operation. “We’ll use two Garradian ships, Golf Sierra A and B, to approach A-X and A-Y from the sides. Both ships will deploy their cloak and phase cloak before launching. GS-A will target Arachnid-X and GS-B will target Arachnid-Y.” She took a breath. “Our mission objectives will be to first find and free the prisoner. Since we don’t know which ship the prisoner is on,” or if she actually was a prisoner or on either ship, “both teams will make accessing ship’s systems for critical data a priority, which should aid in our second mission objective: seizing control of both ships.”
She and Carey had decided this was a necessary action. Anyone able to do the kind of damage these ships had almost done needed a sit down with the General, at the very least.
“If you are unable to seize control, then disable as many systems as possible, with engines and weapons as the highest priority. Then retreat to your ship and reposition into attack position. At that point, our objective will be neutralizing the ships’ ability to retreat or offer resistance.”
“What are our rules of engagement?” Corporal Reid asked.
“Use all necessary force.” She was not going to tie the hands of her people in what was probably going to be a volatile and fast-changing situation or rule out lethal force when they had no idea what they’d find if they managed to board the two ships.
She switched views. “Here are your ship assignments.” She braced herself. “As I mentioned, Delta Tango Flight will accompany Romeo.” Did they realize that Romeo stood for robot? She needed it to be easy to identify who was who if events turned complicated. She put the list on the screen, but also began to read it out.
“Golf Sierra Alpha’s crew will be Dr. Frank,” City couldn’t believe she was going to say this, but it was the only available option, in her view, “who will be primary, comm designation Alpha1. Her second will be Valyr, comm designation Alpha2. CabeX’s comm designation is Alpha3. Captain Gibson will be Flight for GS-Alpha, and he will be in command of all flight operations. Marine squad Alpha1 will consist of Reid, Burns and Knight. Comms for the Marines are Mike 1, 2, and 3.” She glanced around the room. “Questions?”
Apparently, no one did, though Frank looked a bit wide-eyed.
“Okay, Golf Sierra Zulu’s crew complement is as follows. I’ll be Flight and Command,” she had to swallow, “with Kraye as Zulu2, OxeroidR as Zulu3, Sir Rupert as Zulu4. Marine squad includes Jenkins, Spencer, and Fox as Mike’s 4, 5, and 6.”
The sound of a throat clearing came through the speakers.
“Comms will be managed by Bangle on both ships. She,” was she a she? “will provide backup for Flight on both ships, as well.”
Gibson straightened. “Bangle,” it was his turn to swallow, “can fly the ships?”
“I can.” The sound came out of the speakers.
It was hard to quantify the tonal quality of her voice, other than it sounded female to her ears, which was probably a reaction to Bangle’s attitudes, she acknowledged a bit ruefully. She didn’t quite sound human, but she also didn’t sound computer generated. City wasn’t sure why she felt this because the robots sat there like a couple of Vadars in shades of gray and sounded a lot like him when they uttered anything. Despite their complete lack of expression, she had the sense they were pleased Bangle was sending parts of herself along on the mission.
That they might trust Bangle was not that comforting because City wasn’t sure she trusted Bangle.
“Questions?” she asked again. She and Carey had gone the rounds on all of this and still concluded they had to act, despite knowing the General would not be happy with them, despite all they didn’t know. For both, it was coming from the gut, a deep-seated sense that not only did they need to act, but they needed to act fast.
No one had any questions, except possibly Frank, but she didn’t say anything.
“Let’s do this then,” City said.
17
Rachel and Captain Gibson, the Marine pilot, had checked out the Garradian ships—Golf Sierra Alpha 1 and 2, she reminded herself to get into the habit—before the final mission briefing. Both
engines started up, regular cloaks and phase cloaks worked. That moment when she’d pointed the ship at the wall and gone through it, well, still made her sweat. She was proud of—and surprised by—how steady her hand was on the stick.
Her outer mettle was firmly in place. She wished there was a way to test her inner mettle before lift-off. Rachel knew she had strength, had learned to be strong following the loss of her family. She’d coped, got on with her life, done what needed to be done. Her past, however, did not provide assurance she could do this. Whatever “this” might encompass. Because if she couldn’t, then she would be a drag on the ticket when the shooting started, instead of the fearless leader they needed.
She looked the part. She’d seen herself in the Garradian version of a full-length mirror all decked out in the body armor and packing all kinds of cool alien weaponry—which she knew how to use, both the visible and not visible ones. Other than her height, which no amount of armor could fix, she looked pretty bad-A and fit in well with both ships’ teams who’d also had alien-armored and weaponized up.
But looking the part was no predictor of how she’d perform if they came under actual fire. Good thing she was not their first line of defense. Or their last.
Despite being next in the command structure after Sergeant City, Rachel knew this was not a vote of confidence. There was no one else to pick. She’d only have the power to give orders if they lost radio contact with the others. With a bit of Bangle aboard both ships, that seemed unlikely to happen. It was interesting that Bangle wanted to go along, but Rachel was still figuring her out. She frowned. She still couldn’t put her finger on why she thought the AI was female, other than her song choices—which were limited by Rachel’s choices.
Was she assigning gender to Bangle and the robots — there was a band name — because that felt more comfortable than the neutral “it?” She’d never liked being called an “it” but she wasn’t a sentient robot. She was a geek doctor in over her head, and heading into a fire fight, partly because of the hot alien. Did she think this was a good dating strategy?
Lost Valyr: Project Enterprise 7 Page 22
