The drone bobbed up and down and elevated a little.
Still smiling, Lars turned away. He surveyed the aftermath of the battle and the smile slid from his face. Behind him, he heard Frog yelp a protest. With a sigh, he looked to see what the man had gotten himself into this time.
Nothing the Marine medics couldn’t handle, it seemed. One had his hand firmly around Frog’s arm.
“You need to come with us, sir.”
“I’m not going anywhere with you hooligans.”
He dragged a hand over his face. Maybe it would be better if he did intervene. He moved to do exactly that and was in time to see the medic pick his teammate up, bench-press him once over his head, and dump him unceremoniously onto a waiting stretcher.
“Sergeant says otherwise.”
“And what about my sergeant? What does she have to say about it?”
Lars wandered over. “Are you calling me a girl, Frog?”
“No, boss, but these— Aaah! What. The. Ever. Loving. Dammit!”
The Marine tucked the hypospray in his waist pouch and caught Lars’s eye.
“Standard sedative, sir. He needs to sleep while we stitch him.”
Frog tried to push himself upright. “No, I don’t. Wait! You seda…ted me…”
“It stops you screaming like a banshee and deafening my staff,” the medic told him as he went limp. “He’ll be in the conference room with the others. I’ll put a guard on him. There’s no telling who he’s offended who might take the opportunity…”
The man shrugged and smiled as he turned away and high-fived his partner before they picked up the stretcher and carried it up the stairs. Lars wondered briefly exactly when Frog had had time to offend either of them—and how badly—and decided he didn’t need to know.
The Marine was right. Someone had to deal with Frog’s butt.
He looked for Stephanie.
She was easy to find. Two Marines had joined her, Johnny, and Marcus as they looked for survivors. When they reached one, she would have a look and tell the Marines if the person had been a backstabbing peace monger or a hawk.
As their status was duly noted, the other Marine examined and let her know if they needed her help to survive. If they did, she’d crouch beside them and give them enough healing to make sure they pulled through—even if they had tried to kill her.
The Morgana might not have been so merciful, but she wanted to see them stand trial and the Federation wanted answers. By helping them survive, she gave them a better chance to find those answers.
The Federation wasn’t the only group that needed them. Steph wanted them, too. She had to prepare for the invasion. The more information they had on their enemy, the better, so she healed them and made sure they survived before she moved on to the next one.
Lars joined her.
“Frog’s in the infirmary,” he told Marcus. “Go make sure he stays okay.”
The other man sent him a worried look but didn’t ask questions. He nodded and trotted into the hall.
“That man needs a keeper,” he said in reply to the look on Stephanie’s face, and she smiled.
“What’s he done this time?”
“He’s been sassing the Marines.”
She rolled her eyes. “You’d think he’d know better by now.”
“He knows better,” Johnny told her. “He simply can’t help himself.”
They waited for the medics to collect the latest survivor and moved toward the remaining cluster of bodies. A shadow passed over them, and the Marines immediately crouched and dragged her down with them. Lars dropped too.
If the Marines reacted with caution, it meant they weren’t expecting anyone else—and neither was he. He glanced up at a small fast shuttle that descended rapidly. From what he could tell, it was armed but its gun ports were closed—and it had Navy markings on its nose and tail.
“I wonder who that is,” he murmured as they all stood and the Marines moved slightly to the front.
Blue flowed over Stephanie’s hands and faded slowly. “I don’t know but they’d better be friendly.”
Lars slid a careful glance toward her eyes and was relieved to see they’d remained their usual cornflower-blue. The craft’s cockpit slid open and a tall pepper-haired man leapt down. He was followed by another man, this one as tall but slightly heavier in build. Dressed as a Marine master sergeant, he slapped the side of the small craft and guided the first man hastily away.
The cockpit snapped shut and the shuttle lifted. It wasted no time and made a swift a vertical ascent, pivoted in mid-air, and swept away across the sea.
“Are you expecting anyone?” one of the Marines asked.
“No,” she replied as the new arrival pivoted on his heels and scanned the scene. When his gaze reached her, he stopped and jogged toward her.
“Well, whoever it is, they’re in an awful hurry to see you,” the other Marine commented, and she looked at Lars.
He shrugged without removing his focus from the new arrival to identify his rank as he approached.
“It’s some kind of commander,” he noted, “and he’s important enough to have protection.”
Stephanie snorted. “An entire team of one.”
“That’s a Marine master sergeant, ma’am,” one of the Marines replied. “You only need one.”
“Yeah, two means you’re in more trouble than you know,” Johnny quipped and earned a frown from both his teammates. Lars nudged him.
“Don’t follow Frog’s example.”
The commander slowed his pace as he drew closer and made a show of looking around. “Well, we have quite a mess,” he commented.
Behind him, the master sergeant assessed her and her escort in one swift glance and fixed the Marines with a firm stare. Both of them stiffened and turned their heads slightly.
It reminded Lars of big dogs sizing each other up, even though the pecking order had already been decided. He was reasonably sure there wouldn’t be a fight, but it wouldn’t hurt to consider the possibility.
Stephanie chuckled and addressed the commander while ignoring the Marines. “You could say that.”
He glanced at the hovering drones. “Is there somewhere private we can talk?”
She looked at her two Marines. “Are we almost done?”
One gestured toward the last pile of bodies. A small cluster of Marines was already moving the dead. “Are there any living?” he called.
One glanced down and shook his head. The Marine turned to Stephanie. “We’re done, ma’am. Thank you for your help.”
“A pleasure, Corporal.” She looked at the commander. “I believe my dropship has suitable shielding.”
They retired to the vessel and Stephanie stooped to greet the two cats as they bounded over. They pressed against her legs and wound around her and each of her men before they touched Commander Van Leeuwen and his master sergeant with curious noses.
Bumblebee rumbled a greeting and rubbed his cheek along the commander’s thigh. Zeekat mirrored the action on the other side. Lars grinned. “Well, Elizabeth will be relieved. The cats approve.”
Stephanie took a quick second look and smiled. “Oh… I’m sorry, I wasn’t really thinking at our earlier meeting with the Navy but I recognize you now.”
Matthias blushed and his face heated all the way to his hairline. “You do?”
“Sure. You dropped Ms E off at the offices one night.”
“She said no one would be around.”
Her smile widened. “I had a message from Burt for her.”
He sighed. “Of course, you did.”
“She never mentioned it?”
“It never came up.” He cleared his throat and studied the side of the dropship.
Lars stifled a laugh and waved them to a table set between the flight couches. The master sergeant placed a hand on the control panel for the door and closed it as one of the drones descended to look inside.
“Nosy bastards,” the team leader complained, but the commande
r shrugged.
“It’s the press. They’re a force of nature. You’ll get used to them after a while.”
“I doubt it,” Stephanie told him and sank into one of the chairs. “Elizabeth said we had a Navy liaison officer for One R&D. I take it that’s you?”
Van Leeuwen nodded. “Yes.” He smiled. “It’s how we met.”
The smile faded and he cleared his throat. “But that’s not why I’m here. He withdrew a small locked box from his pocket, set it on the table, and held his thumb against the locking pad until there was a small but audible click.
Matthias said nothing. He merely lifted the lid to reveal the eight small badges nestled inside.
Each one consisted of a dark-gray shield set against a golden starburst. A thick blue stripe centered by a hollow diamond sat in the middle of each shield, bisected by a golden letter ‘I.’
He removed them and placed them carefully on the table.
“What are these?” Stephanie asked and picked one up.
“Badges of the Inquisitor,” he told her. “There’s one for you and each of your team members.”
She turned the badge in her hand and studied it carefully. “What are they for?”
“They give you the power to act for the good of the Federation, up to and including killing to defend it, its name, and its citizens. And you can make and act on these decisions without authorization from any power within the Federation.”
“You mean…” She lowered the badge and stared at him, her jaw open in surprise as her face paled.
The commander gestured toward the outside of the shuttle. “It seems these were created before this mess here,” he told her, “so you already had the right to act before this little argument went viral.”
Stephanie lifted the badge and studied it for a short moment before she returned her attention to Van Leeuwen. “So, all those people screaming to sue me?”
His lips curved into a tight, hard smile. “Can’t. You are the first Federation Inquisitor and your actions were justified. You’d have to do something truly heinous to have that status revoked. That badge gives you the right to ask for and receive any support you require as you work for the good of the Federation.”
“Good.” She rose from her seat and headed to the door. When she reached it, she looked back. “I’ll need two for the cats, as well.”
Chapter Thirty-Seven
The badges for the cats arrived a week later. They came with mounts that could be fitted to the animals’ harnesses or to their armor. Stephanie showed them to Elizabeth while they shared a meal in her office.
It had taken the woman almost a month to terrorize the hospital sufficiently to be allowed to return to One R&D’s headquarters for convalescence—and that only on the condition that the hospital approved the level of care that would be provided.
Ms E had called in a few favors and BURT had run the background checks required to ensure their new hires were safe. He also did the same thing for the applicants to fill Tracy’s position and expand her security team.
Part of the delay in her return had been due to the modifications required to add a fully functional trauma center and rehabilitation wing to their headquarters.
“Well, if you wanted the link between Morgana’s Mercenaries and One R&D kept a secret, you’ve well and truly blown it,” she told him in one of their encrypted conversations and he had merely laughed.
“I’ve been planning the expansion ever since Marcus was injured,” he told her. “While Stephanie can heal, she might not always be available to speed a convalescence, and with the attacks on Stephanie and yourself, I would feel better if our wounded did not make a civilian hospital a target.”
“How will you manage it?” she had asked. “It will be expensive to keep a trauma team on standby all the time.”
“I let them freelance their skills when our people are home and pull them into base when the team is on a mission.”
“Won’t people learn to watch them?”
“Perhaps after the first couple of times we need them but not until then. It is a bridge we will cross when we come to it.”
The rehab specialists were another matter. Marcus and Johnny still had work to do, and even Vishlog needed more time to strengthen his injured shoulder.
“Those slugs do more than leave a mark,” Lars had noted after the first debriefing with the specialists. “Those three will keep them busy for at least six more months.”
Stephanie looked worried. “I thought I’d healed them.”
“You did, but there are still exercises they can do to improve the use of the injured areas. Burt made a good call this time.”
The specialists now proved useful for Ms E’s recovery, as did the two nurses hired to watch over her. She might not have appreciated the interference—as she called it—but it was necessary. She and Stephanie waited until the nurse left and Amy pulled the door closed behind her.
When she was gone, they breathed a simultaneous sigh of relief. The sound made them exchange glances and they burst into laughter. Ms E wrapped an arm across her stomach and raised a hand.
“Oh, stop, stop,” she said. “Laughing still hurts.”
“And we’d better eat or you’ll be in trouble,” Stephanie pointed out and indicated the food set before them.
Elizabeth had arranged for a small dining table to be brought into the office for meals and added extra chairs so Amy, or the nurse, or anyone else could keep her company while she ate. Today, it was only Stephanie and BURT joined them electronically.
He had news on the ship.
“Why did you name her after the pirate ship?” he asked. “There has been some confusion regarding her origins.”
“I wanted to remember what we were fighting for,” Stephanie told him. “We met our first alien on the Ebon Knight, and that was all that gave us warning about the invasion. Now, the ship reminds us of what we are up against and what we’re fighting for.”
“There are some who think you have refurbished the pirate vessel.”
“And some who will never accept otherwise.” She sighed. “I know, but unless the Navy wants to admit to buying the hulk, they’ll have to keep on being wrong. How’s it going?”
“It is almost ready,” he told her. “We are only waiting for the second half of the data center to be installed.”
“But I saw that,” Ms E protested. “It was done.”
“You saw the starboard bank,” BURT corrected her smugly. “I don’t believe the port bank was fully completed.”
“There were some empty rooms when I went through,” she agreed. “Is the brig complete?”
“Yes,” he confirmed, “and it was recommended we add a suppression system in case of boarders. That required some refurbishment as we also needed to ensure the gas could be contained to specific areas of the ship.”
“Whose idea was that?”
“Ebony’s.”
“Ebony?”
“That is the name the ship’s AI has chosen for itself. She has informed me that she will also answer to Knight.”
“Ebony Knight, huh?” Elizabeth asked and he agreed.
“Yes. It is most fitting, don’t you think?”
“It suits her,” Stephanie agreed.
“I am glad you approve.”
She gave the communications screen a grin. “Would it matter if I didn’t?”
“I would have to speak to her.”
“To an AI? Couldn’t you simply reprogram her?”
“I could, but it would be better if we didn’t interfere with her original programming.”
“I’m sure your technicians know what they’re doing.” She shrugged and paused for a moment before she asked, “Did the pods make it aboard?”
He chuckled. “Yes, the pods for Vishlog and the cats are on board and undergoing the final stages of installation as we speak. The VR training area is why we need two such large batteries of computers, and they will still be limited to static scenarios and established par
ameters, except for when the ship is connected to the larger network.”
“Understood,” Stephanie said. She’d already had the discussion about the impossibility of adding more computing power to the ship. As much as she wanted to be able to have the ability to run her experiments when the ship was between destinations, it simply wouldn’t be possible to run them to the extent she could when hooked into the Earth’s network.
She sighed. The Ebon Knight was designed to be a fast transport, a way to move her and the team between points A, B, and C—and to bring the pain with them or defend themselves if they needed to.
But it was still theirs. Their first, if necessary, although she still couldn’t see herself commanding a fleet. Not yet and not ever, either. There wasn’t a reason for it. Burt’s voice interrupted her.
“That is all the news I have for you regarding the ship. Tell me, Elizabeth, how are you going with the recruiting?”
Ms E sighed and rolled her eyes. “Honestly, you take a bullet or two and everyone is all over you to get a bigger protection team.”
“And?” BURT pressed with no intention to allow her to sidetrack him with her complaints.
“Amy has some likely candidates lined up.” She looked at the other woman. “She wants the boys to sit in on the interviews and help her with selection. I told her one more. She and Burt, here, told me four was the new minimum for a team, so they’ll have to find three more.”
She looked so offended that Stephanie couldn’t help laughing. “Don’t you hate it when your security starts telling you how to live your life?”
“It’s for your own good,” Burt cut in, “and I don’t envy them the task.”
The two women exchanged looks and glared at the screen. “Hey!” they protested in unison.
Before they could continue, there was a soft knock at the door.
“Come!” Elizabeth called, and the door cracked open. Amy stuck her head around the corner.
“It’s time to get ready,” she said. “I’ll send Helene to help you.”
She scowled. “How much time do I have?”
Witch Of The Federation III (Federal Histories Book 3) Page 42
