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Lunar Eclipse

Page 9

by Gun Brooke


  Fuck. Beaux closed her eyes hard.

  “Captain?” Somas said.

  Beaux opened her eyes and gazed around the tent. “All right. Somas, Veyar, Doc. You stay. The rest of you, give us the room.” Fortunately, no other crewmembers were injured enough to have to occupy the beds. Yet. Beaux had a feeling that was about to change.

  When they were alone, Beaux swung her legs over the edge of the gurney and sat up. “This is on a need-to-know basis, and so far, only the three of you need to know, all right?”

  “Yes, sir,” Veyar said. The others nodded. Even Doc looked intrigued, again.

  “I did become unconscious after falling. I was trying to drag Zac with me and hid among some dense brushes. He was already dead, but the people firing on us…I didn’t want them to find him, but I had to let go of him when trying to hide.” She tightened her fists. “Suddenly the ground disappeared, and I have no idea how far I fell. The next thing I knew, I woke up in a shallow cave with a bandage around my head made from leaves.”

  “Who the hell saved you? Can’t be those fools.” Somas pointed in the direction of the Ilienta camp.

  “Listen, and this is important. This has to stay between us.” Beaux looked them in the eyes, one by one. “This planet is not uninhabited. I have no idea where the woman who saved me lives, or where her people are, but she knows the medicinal plants, she has domesticized an indigenous animal, and she’s saved me more than once.”

  “How’s that?” Somas frowned, sitting down on the gurney next to Beaux.

  “I know you’re going to give me hell for it, but I ventured out alone when I first got here. I was in the crosshairs of a large, quite terrifying creature, which she calls a brummer. I was about to fire at it when her, hm, pet, came charging—and I swear it rolled the giant beast off a cliff into the valley right before my eyes. So, technically, he saved me then. And when she guided me back toward camp just earlier, I nearly fell during a steep climb, and she and Dancer saved me from hitting my head again.” Beaux shrugged.

  “I won’t go into how stupid you were for breaking your own rules,” Somas muttered. “You know what I’m thinking though.”

  “I do.”

  “Who the hell is Dancer?” Doc asked, eyeing Beaux as if she doubted her sanity after the concussion.

  Beaux snorted. “Her pet. Her friend, she calls him, and if it wouldn’t make me sound like I had lost all grip of my faculties in my fall, I’d swear he understands her every word.”

  “So, what’s she like? Old, young?” Veyar rubbed his chin. “Perhaps we can have her take us to her settlement, if we need to.”

  “She’s young.” Beaux pictured Moon. Tanned, with long, dark hair, and a lithe, muscular body. “I’d guess in her mid-twenties. I don’t think she can be persuaded to take us anywhere, to be honest. She actually contemplated if she should save me at all.”

  “Hm. So she chose between exposing herself and letting you bleed out right then and there.” Somas didn’t sound reproachful, but rather empathic.

  “Yes.” Beaux reached for a bottle of water. Sipping from it, she made a grimace that didn’t escape Doc.

  “Something wrong with the water, or how it tastes?” Doc asked. “Altered taste sensations are not a good symptom to display after a head injury, Captain.”

  Beaux chuckled. “Nothing wrong with my sense of taste, or any of the other four. I just had a chance to sample the local water and found ours to be lacking, that’s all.”

  “I see.” Doc didn’t look convinced but relented.

  “Did she tell you her name? Could you understand her at all?” Veyar took out a computer tablet, jotting down notes.

  “Her name is Moon.” A little embarrassed, as she could hear her voice soften, Beaux cleared her throat. “And she spoke excellent Cimerian. No accent, really, so she doesn’t originate from any of the outer regions of the Territory. But she must’ve come from our sector—or her parents, or even ancestors, did.”

  The other three looked stunned and exchanged looks. “You’re kidding.” Somas scratched his short, red hair. “We transport these crooks for eight months to the planet that’s going to make them richer than any deity worth the name, and you stumble upon a girl with a pet named Dancer—who speaks classic Cimerian? You can’t fucking make shit like that up. Sir.”

  Beaux nodded. “I know. It’d be ridiculous if our situation hadn’t become precarious. Let’s continue the discussion about Moon at a later time. I need reports of what’s going on right now.”

  Veyar pushed his shoulders back. “Aye, sir. We’ve carried out your orders, but as you can imagine, our actions haven’t gone down too well with the Ilienta passengers. We have parked the scuttles in the center of our camp. Ensign Pylo and his crew are sitting tight with the Rapidfire, and we’re in regular secure contact with them. Tracks and his crew have extended the alarm wire.”

  “I noticed. Good.” Beaux tensed. “Any casualties apart from Zac?”

  “Minor bruises, a few soft-tissue wounds from fire exchange.” Doc shrugged. “They’re all back on duty, as they responded well to treatment. I do believe we incapacitated a couple of their miners who thought they could take on trained officers.”

  “As in severely wounded or dead?” Beaux asked.

  “The former.” Somas scowled. “Unfortunately.”

  “Hey. We need to deescalate the situation, rather than the opposite. I have no idea what could have set them off, accusing us of sabotage. They must have a traitor in their midst. Perhaps industrial espionage?” Beaux sighed. “That’s all I can think of. It has to be someone with some know-how about their technology, right?”

  “Yes. That’s what I’ve been thinking,” Veyar said. He tapped the corner of the computer tablet against his lower lip. “I can’t see how we can investigate something like that, as they won’t let us near any of their equipment.”

  Beaux knew he was right. The situation was far too volatile. “What about the Empress?”

  “Two shuttles aboard and crews standing by if this gets out of hand and we need extractions. The ship is also on lockdown in case those idiots seize any of our shuttles planetside,” Somas said.

  “It has a name.” The image of Moon’s mesmerizing, golden eyes flickered through her head.

  “What does?” Somas blinked.

  “This planet. She called it Haven.” Beaux shrugged. “For all I know, it could be what she and her people have named it, which hardly makes it official, but it beats calling it ‘the planet’ or the cumbersome long number that Ilienta has designated it.”

  “I like it,” Doc said, surprising Beaux. “Don’t look at me like I’m crazy, people. I just think it fits. I’ve never smelled air like this. Have you?”

  “True enough,” Somas said. “This place has something angelic about it.”

  “You guys sound more concussed than I do.” Beaux snorted. “But you’re not wrong. There is something pristine about this planet, and despite that beast that wanted to eat me, it is quite amazing.”

  “Or the sweetness in the air is part of luring us in before we’re all food for the, what was it, brummer?” Somas smiled when Beaux elbowed him.

  “We need to bring the department chiefs together and come up with contingency plans if the hostilities last,” Beaux said. “After that, I’m going to take Commander Veyar along to a meeting with Ilienta in the zone between the camps. We have to make this work, or we won’t get paid—and a lot of people will end up injured or dead.”

  “Right, sir,” Veyar said.

  “I’m going to clean up and—”

  “After I mesh the rest of the wound on your temple, you can take care of the rest.” Doc pointed at the gurney. “On your back, Captain. The rest of you, I’m sure you have something better to do than watch me work.”

  Loathing her situation but knowing it would save time to go along with Doc’s orders, Beaux lay down as Veyar and Somas left. After she suspiciously eyed the piece of technology Doc raised over her head,
she was ready to go back to work. “Please tell me you’re not about to sedate me or something.”

  “I would, if I thought it would make you use your common sense, Captain. But as I deem you a hopeless case, I’ll just numb the area first.” Doc scowled as she began the procedure. “You’re in my office far too often. Don’t think I don’t know.”

  Beaux stiffened. Doc didn’t just mean the injuries that sometimes came with the job, but all the ones that resulted from her martial-art matches and the fights she sometimes got into aboard space stations while on shore leave. “Yeah, yeah.”

  Doc didn’t look impressed. “You’re a reckless woman, Captain, and you have been for a long time. I’m certain your closest subordinates don’t know about most of the injuries you’ve sustained over the years. Not even SMC Somas, who is a close friend.”

  Doc was right and Beaux knew it. This didn’t mean she planned to explain herself to the stern woman before her. Doc had been part of her crew almost from the beginning. One year after Beaux purchased the Empress, she had visited a space station where two of her crewmembers had been stabbed in a bar brawl gone insane. When the Empress’s former doctor had tended to them where it all happened, Doc had interfered, accused him of being a hack, and saved both of Beaux’s men within minutes of taking over. Not one to ever hesitate, Beaux had fired the first doctor and hired Doc on the spot. She remembered how Doc had cautioned her about being rash, but the intimidating physician had accepted the position just as fast, which had become an inside joke between them.

  After working on Beau for half an hour, Doc straightened and put the wands and other instruments away. “There. You can go have your shower now.”

  “Finally.” Beaux stood and then squeezed Doc’s arm. “Thank you. I mean it.”

  Doc merely huffed but also placed her hand on top of Beaux’s for a moment. “Go on now.”

  Beaux couldn’t wait to remove her muddy uniform and had started toward the exit when the klaxons began to blare.

  Chapter Ten

  Moon motioned with a sharp gesture for Dancer to disappear. When she saw him pivot and move farther in between the trees, she flipped the hooks tied to her wrists forward, gripped the trunk of a tree not far from where Dancer had moved away to, and scurried up among the dense foliage. She counted on the darkness to hide her once she reached as far as it was safe to go. The approaching steps and voice masked her stealthy departure—or she hoped so.

  As she listened to Beaux’s relief at seeing her members of her crew, she also felt oddly guilty for vanishing without a word or a trace. She hadn’t let Beaux know, at least not in so many words, that she never meant to show herself to the crew, no matter how obvious it was that Beaux thought the world of them. Yet hearing the confusion in Beaux’s voice when she’d lost sight of Moon made her uncomfortable. As it turned out, watching Beaux leave with the others hurt.

  Angry at herself for not being able to look past this brief interlude, for allowing herself to grow soft and stray even one second from her objective, Moon decided to make good use of her proximity to the camp and darkness. Climbing down, she found Dancer waiting for her. He seemed tense, and she knew a growl wasn’t far away. That could mean that more people were out in the forest, or maybe a brummer, even though they rarely hunted after dark.

  “Hear anything, my friend?” she asked, but he merely looked around, his head swiveling back and forth.

  Moon regarded him with confusion for a moment, but then it dawned on her. She could read him as well as he was able to with her, and she could tell he was looking for someone. Beaux. Dancer had taken a liking to their guest, and now he wasn’t thrilled that their impromptu trio was missing one.

  “You sentimental fool. Beaux doesn’t belong to our unit, Dancer. It’s you and me, against them. You and me like we’ve always been. All right?”

  Dancer snorted, a decidedly displeased sound.

  “Come on. We’ve got work to do.” Moon began moving away from the camp for a couple of hundred meters in order to circle over to the Ilienta part of the area. She wanted to observe their new routines after her sabotage last night. Her audacity had no doubt caused more repercussions than their attack on Beaux and her crewman. Another pang of guilt erupted as she thought of her action potentially being the cause of the death of that young man. That had never been her intention. Beaux being hurt in the process made it even worse. Still, she had to harden herself when it came to Haven’s future. She knew their drilling, digging, and blasting would disrupt the perfect balance of this world. After living here, studying the animals and the way nature thrived undisturbed, nothing mattered more than Haven’s protection.

  She moved around the now-even-bigger camp to the part of it highest up on the mountain, hoping her assumption that they wouldn’t expect anyone to come at them from that direction was correct. She crawled closer and saw two sentries between her and the camp, but they had a long stretch to guard, and they kept meeting in the middle and then walking back in their own steps, quite slowly. They didn’t seem to anticipate trouble, exactly.

  Moon remained patiently behind the shrubs with Dancer close to her. As always, he reverberated rather than growled when he knew he had to be quiet. She could see small reflections of the lights from the camp in his eyes and placed a calming hand on his back. “We’re fine,” she whispered. His careful shifting showed he wasn’t convinced. Neither was she.

  After counting seconds to measure the time the guards took to reach their respective turning points and come back, Moon crept closer. She peered over a fallen tree, trying to figure out the distance between the guards’ patrol area to the camp. They were at the edge of the forest, but plenty of shrubs and large bushes led down to the tents. This area seemed to hold large equipment and some residential tents, judging from the people congregating near the openings and drinking, eating, or just socializing.

  “You have to stay here, Dancer,” she whispered to her companion. “I’ll be quick, all right?”

  “Mff.” Dancer pressed his side to hers, a gesture she knew meant she should be careful—that he was worried.

  “I’ll be right back. Promise.” Quickly, Moon covered her hands and face with dirt while she waited for the guards to reach the point where they were in the same spot. As they turned and separated again, she began counting seconds as she rose and ran doubled over, mindful of where she placed her feet. The pale double moons sent enough light through the trees for her to not enter the area blind.

  She passed their line of footprints, which she jumped so any of her own wouldn’t be obvious. Throwing herself into the closest bush, she looked back. The men were out of sight, which made it possible for her to advance. Still half crouching, Moon hurried toward the back of the closest tent. It was dark, so the inhabitants were either asleep or not there. Mindful of gear being kept around the tents, she avoided them as she moved along the outer perimeter. Soon the sentries would be turning back, facing her direction, and she had to find a place to hide that would keep her out of their line of sight and away from the people in the camp.

  As she cautiously rounded a tent, Moon found herself in a darker area, where someone had stacked large crates, long pipes, and heavy metal rings. She couldn’t begin to guess what they were all for, but they provided perfect cover for now. Slipping in among the rings, she crouched to one side, still counting in her head. As she was certain the guards had turned again, she peered over the edge. Right next to the equipment she hid among stood another large tent. Moon slid over the rings’ edge and crawled over on her hands and knees. Pulling her knife out, she kept away from the door, as it faced the major part of the camp. Instead she squeezed in between more crates and the side of the tent.

  The structure consisted of some thin material that looked fragile, but when she poked it with the tip of her blade, she found she had to put considerable force behind the knife to make even a small cut. Luckily, once she had pierced the fabric, she could cut it much easier. Soon she had sliced an opening big en
ough for her to slip through. Inside, it was not as dark, since green-tinted small dots along the shelves lit up the tent. Uncertain if they were part of an alarm system, she refrained from touching them.

  Moon moved among the shelves that filled the entire tent with only small aisles in between. Small metal crates filled the shelves, all of them marked with chemical symbols she couldn’t decipher. Feeling for a way to open one of them, she couldn’t find any locking mechanism, only indentations at the top. After she followed the last aisle, she reached a desk she hadn’t spotted before. A computer sat in the center with the Ilienta logo twirling on the screen.

  Moon hesitated, her fingers hovering above the console. She could be setting off an alarm if she couldn’t provide the correct login, and then she’d be trapped. Her gaze fell upon a metal cylinder leaning against the desk. Curious, she grabbed it and turned it in her hands until she saw a label. She held it close to a series of green dots, squinting as she tried to make out what it said. After reading the label twice, nausea rose from her stomach, which clenched painfully. She tore at the seal, and right then she wouldn’t have cared if half of the Ilienta guards had stormed the tent. Tugging at the metal thread holding the stopper at the end of the cylinder, she unrolled the large sheet on the desk next to the computer. She couldn’t make out the letters, but the marks were clearly visible, white on blue, and she recognized the map of the area. There was her valley, her own mountain where her escape pod had landed and where she had built her tree house. The white markings, according to the label, were blast sites. In between them were smaller markings, and she held the map up to the tiny green lights to see what they were. Drill sites.

  Moon took the time to memorize, if not every marking, then the general areas where Ilienta meant to destroy everything. She looked closer at the markings, recognizing the symbols from the small canisters. They must hold explosives of some kind.

 

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