by Greg Dragon
“Well, Wolf is not camped up here. He is with the militia trying to take over that hidden town,” Cilas mused. “How many troops did you see staging the coup down there?”
“It was a bloodbath, Lieutenant. They were shooting and terrorizing citizens. If we can alert the Meluvians to what’s happening here, we would save a lot of lives. They had hundreds of men, all toting pulse rifles. I didn’t get a chance to see if they were Alliance issue.”
“Of course they are,” Cilas said. “They are using our weapons to butcher these people. Satellite access is out down there so they’ve surrounded the city with dampers. We’re out of time, Nighthawks. We need to get going and remove Joran Wolf. Only once he’s dead or in our custody can I alert the Meluvians to the situation. Any earlier and we risk the mission. I know it sounds calloused, Tutt, but we have our orders.”
“I fully understand your strategy, sir,” Quentin said. “But what I saw down there … it’s not likely we can do anything with just the four of us.”
Cilas regarded him for a long time, measuring him up, and Helga wondered if he was about to rip into him or opt for the silent dismissal. But then the lieutenant squatted, grabbed his pack and brought out the grease pen he’d used to draw the map that brought them here.
“Show me what you can of this town,” he said, and Quentin joined him on the ground, sketching rapidly with the pen. He was a good artist from what Helga could see, as he outlined a detailed image of a bunch of buildings.
“I was here, amongst the trees, looking down at what you see here, Lieutenant. The MLF, from what I could tell, hold the southern half hostage, and are pushing north through the main road, bordered on all sides by buildings. This structure here, indicated by this X, is what I assume is their capitol building. There are some soldiers here, defending their leader, and there was a standoff, right here, where troops are trading off shots.”
“So, we come in here and take them from the back, but it will be dangerous since the locals won’t know we’re friendly,” Cilas said.
“We could shoot a trace at this location,” Quentin said, drawing a circle near the south. “It’s another temple, but it’s where the bulk of them were stationed. It would send them sprawling if they believe that the Alliance had found their camp.”
Cilas sat back on his haunches and stared up into the sky. The suns were beginning to make their descent, but it would be four more hours before they lost light. “So, if I can get the captain to drop payload on this region, you think that the MLF will abandon this raid and run to the forest for cover? It would be a great plan, Tutt, if it was really an option.
“The moment a Vestalian starship sends a shot like that to the surface, it would be seen as an act of treason if the council is unaware. Making that call will take days to be approved because they would have to discuss it and measure the risk of a misfire taking innocent Meluvian lives. I have to reiterate that we’re alone on this mission, so anything we decided can’t involve the Rendron or Aqnaqak.”
“Okay, but what if we use the local military?” Quentin said. “Send me to an area outside of the perimeter where I can radio Odam while we coordinate our plans. He could petition the army to send a reaper drone, and when they confirm the situation, they will have no choice but to send in the troops. This will take the MLF’s attention off the capitol, and in their chaos as they adjust to the threat, we can find this Wolf and take him out.”
“It’s risky, but it’s a good plan,” Cilas said. “I don’t like that it separates us and leaves you to do that alone. We’ll split up. Two Nighthawks to make the call to Odam, and the other two to slip in from the south, find this thype, and then wait to take his head off.”
“Always ready to serve, Lieutenant, but the call won’t require backup. I am literally going to move out to this location where the shields can’t prevent me for making the call to Odam.”
“And what if Odam does what you ask but the person he connects with is a corrupt member of the MLF?” Helga said. “He would blow your cover, and they would send killers out to find and torture us to talk. I don’t like this, Rend. We’re already too exposed, and this is risking way too much having Tutt go out alone.”
“It’s what I do, ma’am,” Quentin reminded her. “There is hardly a spacer that can match me in the shadows, so I am not concerned for some bush-trained MLF flunky trying to seek me out. I’ll call our boy and drop a beacon, then I will make my way back and rendezvous with you Nighthawks.”
“Hopefully by then we’ll have this thype Wolf bagged and ready for extraction,” Cilas said as he used his hand to erase the drawing from the ground. “It’s all we have, Ate, and we’re out of time. Nighthawks, pull on your full combat gear and strap on your helmets. The rebels are apparently busy, so we may as well have on comms. Ray, do you have something bigger than those pistols of yours?”
“Yes, sir,” Raileo said, and when he reached into his pack, his hand came out with a bulky black object. Helga watched him pull at it until he held a tiny pulse rifle. Well isn’t that neat? she thought to herself. I didn’t even know they made a weapon like that.
She knew that she would be scolded for only bringing a handgun, but when they were briefed about this mission, it was all but said that they should travel light. Now she regretted not taking one of the guns that had been used by the villagers or the MLF ambushers at the first camp.
Looking back at that now, she realized they could have stripped the men they killed and used their clothes as camouflage as they made the journey north. But hindsight was no different from wishes and dreams, giving the outcome of a different dimension. The Nighthawks were here, and they were officially in the schtill, so all of her focus needed to be on the present.
Helga pulled on her Rendron-issued pants and tucked them inside of her good pilot’s boots. She opted for the change in footwear not only because these were dry but also because they had the added bonus of a hidden sidearm near her ankle. She donned her black coat, zipped it up and then checked the helmet, which she tested to make sure she could see everyone’s vitals.
When she was finished, she looked every part the consummate ESO assassin. So did Cilas, Quentin and Raileo, bringing home the point that they were ready for Wolf.
19
Retzo Sho removed his ear piece and placed his large hands behind his back. He had just heard from Cilas Mec with sparse, coded details on their situation on Meluvia. The lieutenant had told him that they were close to extracting Wolf, but it hadn’t been easy, and there was a strong chance they would have to kill him.
Retzo had been the main one pushing for Wolf to be taken alive, because he suspected that the ESO’s defection was part of a greater conspiracy. With him dead the snakes would remain hidden beneath the foundation, tipping off The Collective and stealing more weapons to use against the Meluvians.
Since Dyn he had a heavy suspicion that one of the captains was involved. If not a captain then it was an admiral, and if not an admiral then someone on the very counsel that led them. These weren’t things he was supposed to think or discuss if he wanted to keep his ship. But he had been a direct victim of betrayal when his commander, Tyrell Lang, helped to get his CAG Adan Viles removed from his station.
Then there was Dyn, a sabotaged mission that happened right under his nose. How was he to go back to being a good captain when the enemy had used his ship to execute so much evil? He shouldn’t discuss it with anyone, but Genevieve had patched through Cilas’s call while he was on a stroll with Tara Cor. She had seen his mood change when he received it and had naturally inquired on the situation.
Meluvia was her mission, a supposedly simple one, and Retzo had granted it to help rebuild the decimated Nighthawks. From what he’d heard, however, it wasn’t as simple as they had planned, and now his team was about to face a large army of civilian killers.
Cilas Mec was special, and this was the reason he still led that group, but now Retzo was wondering if this “simple missi
on” would be the end of the young man’s career.
“Cilas and the Nighthawks are about to take Wolf,” he said flatly as they stepped out of a passageway to the impressively large officer’s lounge. He motioned for her to sit on one of the many chairs in the space. It was meant to be an event room for visitors to the captain.
There was a Cel-toc android server powered down behind a curtain, but as soon as she heard the captain’s voice, she came to life and walked out, straightening a chair as she made her way over to them.
“May I interest you in a drink, captains?” she said, her sultry voice startling Tara Cor, who had just taken her seat.
“Virulian Sunrise for me,” Tara said, as soon as she had finished laughing at herself. “Strut here needs brandy, and um, I’ll take whatever it is you have to eat.”
“Please have the chef send up something,” Retzo said, and then he waved his hand to dismiss her. He sat down next to Tara Cor and stared out through the bay windows at a team of engineers doing repairs.
“You were telling me that the Nighthawks are about to take Joran Wolf,” Tara said.
“Yeah, but the situation down there is very different from what they were told, Cory. The rebels along with Wolf have taken over a small country. We expected a camp, with a local militia hosting our man. What we have is an army, organized, armed, and embedded in a jungle with all sorts of nasty things. Helga Ate, the one you like so much, was almost killed by that jungle.
“They’ve made contact several times because this Wolf has enough friends to canvas the continent. On the call that I just received from Cilas, I learned that the MLF is laying siege to a town. So now my handful of Nighthawks will need to slip into that, somehow, find Wolf to pull him out, and then get him back to us. I tell you, Cory, I was happy to do this for you, but it would really crush me if any of them got hurt.”
“Of course, Strut, I understand, but why haven’t we heard about this army from our friends the Meluvians? Had I known it was that bad on the surface, I would have been content with letting that traitor sit and rot. When we asked for the Nighthawks, it was because we were told that he’s with a very small group. We have spies and they report that Wolf is only ever accompanied by two or three bodyguards. Militia, coup, army, all those words have never been communicated to us this entire time. I am really sorry, my love, but you shouldn’t blame yourself for not knowing.”
Retzo leaned forward and placed his elbows on his knees as he used both hands to massage his scalp. “Mark my words, this was a mistake, and I am going to lose confidence with Cilas Mec. I okayed this mission without giving it much thought, and now I’m going to lose him. That Dyn fiasco was not too long ago and any responsible captain would have given them time to heal.”
“Wow, this is really eating at you. What aren’t you telling me?” Tara Cor said as her hand found Retzo’s slumped shoulders to give him a light massage.
“Do you want to know why Cilas Mec was chosen as team leader?” he said.
“He was second-class, the same way we were. I get it, Strut, he’s a good leader. You have high hopes for him, maybe—”
“No, Cory, it’s not just that. There are a lot of good leaders on this ship. That’s what we train them for, right? To fight for the survival of our species. What we can’t train, however, is the natural leadership that comes from a Cilas Mec. He has been through some of the worst situations, and with every one of those disasters, the people around him have gotten better. He pulls that out of you, and it’s not some formula that you and I can inject into other officers.”
“So, you value Cilas,” Tara said, with no hint of sarcasm in her voice.
“Yes,” Retzo said, still rubbing his head as if that could undo his decisions.
“Is there another Cilas Mec?”
Retzo turned to face her then, curious if this was her attempt at a bit of humor. When he saw that she was genuine, he decided to give her words some thought. “That is what I’ve been trying to find out for the last year. I lost Lester and Adan Cruz, then Lang turned out to be a worm. I’m out of time, Cory, and I need to fill those seats. Jit wants to remain commander of SoulSpur, and I am going to have to command him to trade his captaincy for the bridge. The Alliance has ordered me to name a second, and Jit is the only one qualified for XO or CAG. Cilas needs to be groomed, but what do I do? I allow this mission where now I risk losing him too.”
He sighed and sat back, taking Tara Cor’s hand in his own. “It sounds like I’m whining, doesn’t it? There are prospects, but none on the level of a Cilas Mec. Helga Ate is an impressive ESO. She’s proven to be hardy, but she’s also extremely young. She showed her quality on the Inginus when they needed fighter support. She’s a brilliant pilot, extremely talented, and Cilas says she’s good in a gunfight.”
“And both of these prospects for your leadership core is stuck in the jungle going after my ESO,” Tara whispered. “What can I do to help?”
“You’re doing it,” he said. “We’re in this together, Tara Cor.”
“So why don’t you tell me what’s really bothering you instead of this deflection about your ranks? I know you, Strut, and you run this ship with little need for any help. The last thing Retzo Sho is worried about is filling in the blanks of what should be. You’ve had vacancies for months and you were still your charming, confident self. Now I see you take a call and when it’s over, you’re hunched over and pulling your hair out.”
Retzo studied her face for a long time. She was still his Cory, her long face elegant but hard from the pressures that came with starship leadership. Her hair was pinned back, and her cheekbones stuck out beneath the too-taut skin of her face. She bore into him with those almond-shaped eyes that seemed to always read his mind.
She had his soul and it made him wary. Here was another human who could destroy him, either by betrayal or commanding him to do so. He was vulnerable and he knew it. She was, after all, the love of his life from back when they had been cadets in a classroom.
She was right. He had changed the focus of her inquiry, but he had to be careful with the threat of traitors on the inside.
“It’s what we spoke about earlier, the Collective and their connection to the MLF on Meluvia. The timing of all this seems to correlate with our state of repair. I worry that now more than anytime else we’re in danger of losing everything.”
“I do not understand why they hate us so much. What do they think will happen once we’re gone?” Tara said. “Do they think that the Geralos will become good neighbors to them?”
“They don’t care about the Geralos. They don’t care about the future. All they know is rage, dogma, and hate. The Collective is as much a belief structure as it is an organization, and by sabotaging human things, they accelerate our elimination. We, the human refugees who couldn’t save our own planet from invaders, are nothing but leeches of resources to the other striving planets. To them, we are cowards who always have our hands out, and they no longer want us around, stinking up their doorsteps.”
“That is such a xenophobic view, Retzo Sho. If I were to hear that on my ship, I tell you, whoever said it would be made to pay,” Tara said, angrily.
“It’s your ship and that’s your prerogative. But, Cory, that hard stance of yours will keep their operatives hidden within your crew.”
“Oh, get off it, Strut, there are no Collectives on my Aqnaqak. They all took an oath, and just about every one of them was born on a ship.”
“You’re letting that anger of yours cloud your judgment, Captain. We all have operatives among our rates. To ignore it is a huge mistake. Yes, most of our crew are boomers, but many were raised on hubs. Where do you think the Collective does its recruiting?”
Tara Cor didn’t answer, but the look on her face said enough. “I have always felt the most comfortable on my ship, but in a few sentences you have managed to frighten the schtill out of me,” she said.
“Good, we should be frightened. All of this me
ss is probably connected, and there’s little we can say to warn our own people without it turning into a full-on species war within our crews.”
He made to say more, but she was on her feet suddenly, touching her wrist and then her ear. Apparently, she too had been hailed, but he wondered from whom as she started to pace the floor, only stopping to take her drink from the Cel-toc. All Retzo could make out were a few words that she literally shouted. Words like, “what?” and “how many?” “when?” and then finally, “you tell them to make the jump home, that is the mission, do you understand me?”
When she walked back over to take her seat, she looked to have aged ten years. “It seems that the ship that was sent to look into the hub had a bit of a mutiny on its way back home. What is happening to us, Retzo? Why are our spacers suddenly disloyal?”
“Cory, I think we’re in trouble,” Retzo said. “This hub thing, it has always felt like a trap to me. The two starships responsible for this quadrant are on the mend over Meluvia, and what happens on our watch? A civilian hub is attacked. Consider what happens if that mutiny had worked. You would be forced into action and made to jump away from Meluvian space. That would leave us by ourselves in a somewhat crippled state. Right now, the lizards dare not try to take Meluvia again, not when there’s two starships present with an open channel to call in more.
“Alone, the Rendron cannot withstand the torpedoes from a Geralos battleship. We’d be forced to run, and then the lizards on the planet will make enough trouble to force the Meluvians back to their planet. Within a month there would be an invasion unlike any we’ve seen since Vestalia, and though we could try to jump back in, the time it would take to coordinate a counter, would see us on the defensive against a force too large to be conquered.”