by TR Cameron
Jax laughed. “Toast. Toaster. I sense a theme.” He met Verrand’s eyes. “This is going to hurt. Ready?”
She gritted her teeth and nodded, and he slapped the bandage onto her bare torso below her ribs. It was a great tool, made for the military, but the designers had cared far more about healing than comfort. The edges gripped the skin like a bunch of tiny claws and pulled, latching the outer portion solidly into the wounded person’s flesh. Then they squeezed, making sure the bandage was taut. The actual contact with the clotting agent was no fun either, but compared to the rest, that sting was almost laughable. Verrand screamed and went pale, then panted as she mastered herself. Jax patted her leg. “You’ll have a cool scar and an awesome story to go with it. I’m going to leave you here since we needed a rearguard in any case. Think you can handle it?”
Verrand looked like she’d argue for a moment before sagging in agreement. “Okay. That’s probably for the best. I’m not moving very fast, but I can surely shoot. And scream. Try not to get yourselves killed.”
He nodded. “That’s the plan.”
Cia snorted. “And everything’s gone perfectly to plan so far, right?”
“Shut it, flygirl.”
“Bite me, jerkwad.”
Jax shook his head, rose, and led the way forward. “Okay, let’s finish this and get the hell off this planet.”
Chapter Ten
Jax had expected a wide array of challenges, given how powerful the greeter at the elevator had been, but apparently, the building’s defense planners had figured that the monstrosity would be sufficient. They encountered no other active defenses—electronic, mechanical, or human—as they explored the basement. Kimmel pointed out alarm triggers and cameras as they moved through them, but he had his teeth into the security system and was blocking anything from getting out. The masks that covered their faces except for eyes and mouth would prevent any visual identification after the fact, but Jax was confident that the tech wizard would find a way to erase those before they left as well.
The lower level was filled with unfamiliar equipment of every size and shape. Among the recognizable items was a set of 3D printers in sizes ranging from tiny to almost twelve feet high. Anton Sirenno shook his head at the last one. “Wonder if they built the robot thing’s body out of that. Would explain how they managed the seamlessness.” His occupation when not at the Academy was as a robotics expert for Sondfora, one of the biggest names in that field. “Seems like it would have some disadvantages for repair and such. I can’t imagine they’re disposable.” He lapsed into thought, and Jax led them on to the next room.
Finally, they found a lock that Kimmel couldn’t access, preventing passage to an area that he couldn’t see through the security system’s eyes. Jax said, “Well, that certainly seems promising,” and opened up the wall panel to expose the connections for the magic key. It flashed to indicate it was working, and almost a full minute passed without any additional information. The door slid open seconds before he was ready to give up and try something else. He put the panel back in order as a matter of habit while the others explored the room.
Kimmel swore loudly, and Jax hustled into the room to see what had prompted the outburst. The seamless walls, ceiling, and floor resembled those he’d seen in biological research clean rooms, where the entire cube that comprised the chamber was formed as a single unit, rather than joined pieces. It didn’t hold any of the furniture or workspaces he’d expected to find. The only notable object in the room was what appeared to be a medical pod. “What’s the matter?”
Kimmel gestured at the creche. “It’s inductive. Requires the user to be wired. None of us are.”
Jax frowned. “Are you telling me that the only way to get the data out of this room is to lay in that thing and what, absorb it through the skin?”
The other man nodded. “Maria, er, Verrand would probably know better since she works with AI and internal wiring is sometimes a part of that. But, yeah. My layperson’s understanding is that the wires are close enough to the surface that a very short-range field can access them. It allows for much greater transfer speeds since the whole body is essentially a conduit. Of course, other augmentations are necessary.” He shrugged. “It’s out of my expertise. All I can say is that we don’t have what we need to get the data. And if they’re guarding it this carefully, this portable might not have the computing power to crack the encryption, even if we could access it.”
He turned to Cia. “Ever encountered anything similar to this?”
Like him, she appeared to have lost any measure of humor with the situation. “Not personally. But I’ve heard of it. Sometimes people who are super paranoid about security will use wired couriers to move data. We’ve never had a reason to need one, and I’m not aware of any government using it. More like a criminal, black market, kind of thing.”
He wished he had a way to talk the situation over privately with her, but he couldn’t without offending the others, and he had no real operational purpose for it, anyway. “Could this be the Professor’s doing? One of the 'learning moments' he so enjoys?”
Cia shook her head. “No chance.” Kimmel and Sirenno echoed her. He sighed and said, “Okay, let’s open up the comms. Give Verrand a look at it.” While their computer wizard conferred with their missing team member, he circled the object, looking for any way in, any other option to access whatever it held. Like the room itself, it appeared to be made as one solid piece, with no ports, holes, or joins to exploit.
Kimmel’s next words were the ones Jax had expected. “She’s got nothing. We’re screwed.”
He’d been involved in failed operations before, and there came a moment where you had no option but to bag it and move on to the next phase of the mission. And clearly, that instant has arrived. “Okay, double-time back to Verrand. Kimmel, keep an eye on the security stuff. My instincts tell me that this is a hidden room for a reason, but who knows, maybe it’s a third system that’s talking to the other two.”
Their exit from the building was the reverse of their entrance, minus the killer robot, and they made it out to the street with no further issues. Jax summoned their escape vehicle, and another of the food delivery trucks, or perhaps the same one, stopped in front of them a moment later. They climbed inside, carefully helping Verrand move without exacerbating her injury, and pulled the door closed behind them.
As the truck started to move, lights came on in the cargo area. Two rectangular crates about four feet long were secured to the sidewalls near the cab, and above each floated two words. The one on the left said, “Empty me,” and the one on the right, “Fill me.” Jax opened the first and found energy bars, electrolyte drinks, and a med-pack. He took them and passed them out. Everyone waited while Verrand scanned them for poisons, then tore into the refreshments as soon as she pronounced them clean. He pulled off his rifle and borrowed pistol and dropped them in the second box, along with the other items they’d taken but not used. He kept back only the medical pack and placed the exploding magical key carefully on top of the rest of the equipment he’d deposited.
The others did the same, and by the time they arrived at their destination, they looked no different than they had coming in, other than the duffel bags carrying their stolen goods. Cia and Sirenno had argued that leaving them behind would be the safer play, and he’d offered the counterargument that their role as pilfering thieves required them to pilfer. Plus, he didn’t want anything to blow back on Lady Elle if the truck was somehow captured.
He watched their autonomously departing escape vehicle as it drove away before turning to the others. “Okay. Verrand, this is going to feel great, then it’s going to suck. Everyone, we need to be back at the ship by the time it wears off, or we’ll be carrying her.” He positioned the injector at the side of her neck and pressed the button, discharging a mix of drugs that would kill her pain and give her energy, at the cost of eliminating the warning system that would keep her from hurting herself further. “Let’s take it
slow and steady.”
They entered the terminal and walked casually toward where the Jigsaw awaited them. The transit hub was busy even at this time of night, and more security forces and soldiers were in evidence than he’d hoped to see. They didn’t appear to be searching for anyone specific, and in general, the place seemed to be operating as it had when they’d passed through it earlier.
That lasted until the moment they reached the doors to the spoke leading to their ship. At the far end of the terminal, the tube opened and a squad of local security personnel stepped out, six in all. Unlike the others, they were looking for someone, as evidenced by how they kept glancing down at their wrist comms and out at the people moving through the building.
“Go, go,” Jax muttered just loudly enough for those around him to hear. They pushed open the doors and increased their speed as soon as they’d closed behind them. He ordered, “Kimmel, keep a hand on Cia while she spins up the ship.”
Cia shook her head. “It’s not the Grace. This one doesn’t have that capability.”
“Damn it. I assumed the Professor would have given us something at least nearly equivalent.”
The pilot chuckled, and he heard the nervousness behind it. “Did you look at that ship? The thing is flying on bonding tape and a prayer.”
“Okay. New plan.” He’d spotted the fuel line that led to their ship from the central hub near the terminal. “Did we set up refueling?”
“No. Didn’t need it.”
Jax replied, “Perfect. Now run.” He drew his unimpressive pirate pistol, set it on overload, and threw it at the long metal cylinder that ran about six feet away along the walkway, pitching it as far toward the terminal as he was able. He’d been involved in spaceport sabotages before, and assuming this system was set up in standard fashion, the explosion would be contained to the compromised section since no fuel was flowing to the ship. Internal valves closed in the absence of pressure to keep them open and stayed locked until a signal from the control station reactivated them.
Security personnel charged through the doors behind them and screamed in panic as the fuel line went up in a giant fireball. The brutal heat that had lessened with the setting sun returned with the ignition of his artificial one made of rocket fuel, and the concussive blast sent their pursuers and Verrand stumbling. Sirenno and Kimmel grabbed an arm each and kept the wounded woman moving, and the ladder slid down from the hatch at their approach. Cia climbed up first, then Kimmel, who assisted him in keeping Verrand steady as she ascended. By the time Sirenno was inside, and the door closed, the security forces were halfway toward them.
He followed the sound of muttered curses to the cockpit and strapped in as the Jigsaw lurched upward from its pad. The ship negotiated with his comm, and he joined the conversation between the control tower and Cia already in progress. An angry male voice demanded, “Put that ship down, now.”
She replied sweetly, “Under whose authority?” She killed her mic and muttered, “You festering scumbag.” Jax chuckled despite the anxiety building in him as the questionable vessel around them creaked and groaned as the pilot rotated it and pointed it toward the sky. She activated the intercom and shouted, “Ten seconds, strap in or find a handhold.”
He started counting down in his head while she engaged in another testy exchange with the tower. The man said, “The damn Confederacy government, that’s who. Do it now, or we’ll shoot you down.”
She snorted into her open mic. “Please. You don’t have the personal authority for that, and by the time you get it, I’ll be back home on planet Pouturn. You be sure to tell all your friends how you tried and failed to persecute an innocent person on the entirely mistaken assumption that she’s somehow a lawbreaker and a pirate.” She flicked off the connection as her counterpart sputtered an indignant reply, and told Jax, “That’s a planet deep in Confederacy space. They won’t believe it, but someone will have to waste time checking it out.”
At ten seconds on the dot, the ship lurched as she threw it into the maximum acceleration they could tolerate without blacking out. He knew this because of the telltale sparkles creeping in at the edges of his eyes before the speed stopped increasing. Conversation was an impossibility, so he focused on holding on and promising the universe all sorts of wonderful future acts if only he were allowed to survive Cia’s piloting.
Chapter Eleven
The universe ruled in Jax’s favor, and they made it to the jump point, then to the Grace, and finally to the Academy without further challenges. Maria Verrand spent most of the trip in the medical pod, which proved to be as advanced and effective as Cia had promised. Her scar was barely noticeable by the time they reached their destination, and she was mostly back to full functionality.
They arrived at the castle during the night, allowing them all to rest up some before needing to face the results of their misadventure. They’d sent word ahead, but gotten no response other than curt instructions to return. Thus, the opportunity to sleep and reset his brain and body before dealing with whatever the day would bring was welcome.
He was the first of the group to arrive in the dining hall for breakfast, but by the time he’d finished his initial cup of coffee, the rest of the team had joined him. They all seemed a little more somber than usual, something he chalked up to the uncertainty around coming back having failed to achieve their objective. It wasn’t a situation that any of them would be accustomed to. The Academy didn’t generally admit students overly comfortable with failure. Quite the opposite: everyone he’d met was a high-flier who only needed a push to fly higher still.
Cia chomped noisily on a piece of bacon, a gesture doubtless directed at him. He scowled and demanded, “What? What do you want, woman?”
It drew laughs from the rest, and she finished chewing and swallowed with deliberate slowness. Finally, she said, “So, I’m thinking that when they ask why things didn’t go well, I’m going to blame you. I wanted to suggest to everyone else that they do the same.” She ended with a wide grin and received nods and promises to act accordingly from the others.
Jax shook his head in false dismay. “Honestly. Ever since I met you, everything is, like, ninety times more difficult than it should be. You’re not a pilot. You’re an albatross.”
She put her hand over her heart and sniffed. “You wound me. Deeply. I’m wounded. Ow. The pain. Ow. I just…can’t…go on.” She fluttered her eyelids and slid sideways out of the chair onto the floor, uttering a loud gasp before falling limp. Jax led the team in a round of light applause for her acting skills, and she bounced back up happily.
Ethan Kimmel asked, “Seriously though, what’s going to happen?”
Jax shrugged. “I’m guessing we’ll all get to chat with the Professor at some point, either alone or together. He tends to do that with everyone after missions, as near as I can tell.” They nodded, confirming his opinion. “So, we give them the truth. There’s nothing to hide. Hell, the op was going well until we came up against a challenge we were in no way prepared to deal with. Technical inadequacy is kind of a binary, not something that can be massaged or improvised around.”
Cia observed, “You’re inadequate,” and Jax flipped her off to renewed laughter.
He met Kimmel’s eyes. “Ultimately, the responsibility rests on me. So, I guess Cia’s right. Any blame is appropriately placed there. When the Professor asks, tell him what you did and why you did it, and why you thought maybe we as a team should have done something different, if you’re of that opinion. After-action stuff is all about identifying things we can learn from, rather than finding reasons to punish people.” He paused, frowned, and added, “Unless politicians are involved. Then, your favorite phrase is, ‘I’m sorry, you’ll have to ask my commanding officer.’ Works every time.”
Verrand gave a thin smile. “So is that what you are? Our commanding officer?” The way she said it wasn’t a challenge, but it was more than a throwaway inquiry.
He considered it for a moment and replied, “I
think the right phrase here is team leader. Every effective group needs someone to wear the mantle of responsibility. Since that particular mission was associated with some stuff I’m involved in outside the Academy, I’m probably the logical choice in this instance. However, that doesn’t mean we won’t have a different arrangement in the future.”
Anton Sirenno sipped his coffee, then peered through the steam at him. “So, you wouldn’t have a problem following one of us if the situation demanded it? Isn’t that a little at odds with your military background?”
The question sparked understanding. They think military equates to regimented and hierarchical and such. True in some cases, less so in the Special Forces, and likely even less than that under Major Stephenson. He nodded. “Well, any of you except Cia. I try not to put myself under the authority of insane people.” In truth, he’d probably trust her more than the others, since he knew her better and had witnessed some of the impressive things she was capable of.
An edge of relief colored their laughter, and the conversation turned to other matters. He stood to refill his mug, only to feel the familiar buzz of the Academy comm on his right wrist. He checked it and saw that the location was Maarsen’s office and the time was only five minutes away. None of the others were reacting to their devices, so apparently, he rated a one-on-one meeting. He lifted his wrist and said, “Guess I need to take my coffee to go. The Professor is calling.”
Maarsen’s office was the same as always. He’d half expected to see Stephenson sitting there waiting for him, but it was only the two of them. This time, the older man handed over a tumbler of whiskey despite the early hour and Jax happily sipped it, savoring the deep, smokey taste. He sighed. “Thanks. I needed that.”
