“Alright, but I think it’s wrong to withhold the information about Staff Sergeant Chavez from her. I think she has a right to know.”
“I’ll tell her when I get a chance. Right now, I need everyone focused on finding the Pergantees.”
“They’ve stopped moving,” Harper said. “They’re just laying there in the pipe.”
“Are you sure?” Dean asked. “It might be that they’ve found a way to manipulate the MSV.”
“It still shows a live feed, and the Pergantees move occasionally. The battery is getting low, though. I can send another down the same pipe.”
“Do that. And if you see Private Loggins, send him to me. We need to send as many drones into the pipes and passageways as possible. I want a map of the lower part of this ship. It’s possible the Pergantees have a ship somewhere in the harvester. We can’t let them get to it.”
“Yes, sir,” Harper said. “I’ll take care of it.”
“Good,” Dean said. “Thank you for understanding.”
Harper nodded. He couldn’t see her face behind the battle helmet, but he got the sensation she wasn’t happy. Dean began to feel guilty. No one would be happy that they couldn’t see Tallgrass. She was well-liked throughout Dean’s platoon and he doubted that anyone would believe that she wasn’t under the influence of the Pergantee when she shot Chavez, but Dean knew that by visiting her they would only hurt her chances of being cleared by the disciplinary committee. And if he was certain of anything, it was that Sergeant Eleanor Tallgrass was strong enough to endure a little hardship. Dean would push for a quick hearing, but he also knew it would be better for Tallgrass if the Pergantees were neutralized before the committee met. He stretched his aching back and put the thought of a hot shower and eight uninterrupted hours of sleep out of his mind. He couldn’t rest until the Pergantees had been caught and he was sure that Captain Grant wouldn’t sabotage their efforts to free Eleanor Tallgrass.
Chapter 25
Dean dropped into a chair in the mess hall and set his helmet in his lap. Beside him, Captain Vanessa Parker was moving food around on a metal tray. Dean couldn’t be sure, but it didn’t look as if she had taken a single bite.
“You should eat,” Dean said.
“I’m not really hungry. Congratulations on your promotion, by the way.” She spoke in a flat, unenthusiastic voice. “I’m happy for you.”
“You don’t seem too happy,” Dean said. “I know things have been a disaster lately. Want to talk about it?”
“Do I want to talk about the service I’ve dedicated my life to suddenly being turned upside down? No, I don’t.”
“Things are insane back home, but at least we’re doing something about the Kroll,” Dean replied.
“Is it worth it?” Parker asked. “It seems like we’re saving humanity just so the idiots can prosper. Part of me wants to let them deal with the Kroll for a while, then see what their opinion of Force Recon is.”
“Yeah, that thought has crossed my mind too,” Dean said between bites. “But I don’t think that what’s Colonel Davis wanted.”
“I know for a fact he didn’t want to get gunned down like a traitor. I can’t believe he’s gone.”
“You were close,” Dean said. “I’m sorry for your loss.”
Parker looked away, one hand covering her eyes. Dean thought for a moment about how he would feel if he lost Esma. He wasn’t sure he could continue on if he did. She had become his world, his center; his love for her was the one thing that never changed, no matter how bad a situation got. His feelings for her were strong, unchanging, and vital to his mental stability. If he lost her, he would only be half a man, and the hole in his life might swallow him up.
“Do you need some downtime?” Dean asked.
“That’s all I’ve got, isn’t it?” she asked. “I don’t have an assignment on this mission. I’m just along for the ride because the brass were willing to let me be blown to space dust. I still can’t believe a group of security officers got the jump on me.”
“You weren’t expecting trouble,” Dean offered.
“No, but I should have been. I should have been monitoring things back at Grooms Lake.” She used the informal name for Space Base 13, where the brass was gathered in orbit around Earth. “I didn’t want to bother Andy. He was so busy planning the mission and trying to convince the other commanders how vital it was. So I threw myself into the work at hand and ignored everything else. When the security force docked with the space base, I didn’t even bother to go meet them. I thought it was a maintenance crew.”
“Well, the good thing is you finished the work,” Dean said. “We were able to continue the mission—well, start the mission I guess—because of what you had done.”
“I didn’t do anything,” Parker complained. “I dusted off some warheads.”
“You did more than that,” Dean replied. “If it weren’t for the preparations you made to disconnect that storage model, we wouldn’t have been able to get the nukes without fighting those EsDef cruisers. I can’t even imagine how that would have gone down. And you were a big help with Sergeant Tallgrass and the Pergantees.”
“I ran into an ambush, Dean… sir.”
“No need for that—Dean is fine.”
“If not for you coming along when you did, I’d have been killed.”
“And if not for you harassing them and drawing Tallgrass’s fire, the entire group of Pergantees might have escaped. I might have been killed running into the same ambush. If I’ve learned anything over the past few years, it’s that we need each other. Force Recon works because we’re a team.”
“I’m a soldier without a team. I gave up my platoon to help train young officers for a branch of service that no longer exists.”
“You’re an experienced officer on a vital mission,” Dean countered. “You may feel like a fifth wheel, but I need you. I need your counsel, and your help. In case you haven’t noticed, Captain Grant is gunning for me. I’m in charge of what is essentially a naval operation, and my own platoon is imploding. I’ve lost an experienced Demo Sergeant and an irreplaceable staff sergeant.”
“Is there news about Staff Sergeant Chavez?”
“Not yet. He’s out of surgery and stable for the moment, but it’s touch and go. From what I’ve heard, even if he recovers, he’ll never be able to serve in his normal capacity. I need you on my team, Captain Parker, now more than ever.”
Vanessa Parker nodded, the muscles in her jaw flexing and her eyes finding Dean’s for the first time since he entered the mess hall.
“Alright,” she said. “I’ll pull my shit together.”
“Good,” Dean said. “I’m assuming you cleared the MRS eval?”
“Yes, no sign of tampering from the Pergantees.”
“Excellent. I want you to take charge of the search for the two remaining Grays. FAS Sergeant Emily Harper has eyes on them via her MSV. Private Loggins is sending more MSVs into the bowels of the ship. Hopefully we can locate them. Tallgrass believes they have a vessel somewhere on board. If that’s true and they get to it before we find them, there’s no telling what kind of damage they might do.”
“Alright, I’ll see to it, Major.”
“Thank you, Captain,” Dean replied.
“No,” Parker said. “Thank you, Dean. I needed a kick in the ass.”
“Not as much as I need a friend I can trust. It’s good to have you in the Wolfpack.”
She smiled and then carried her tray to the recycling bin. Dean watched her go, his feelings mixed for his former instructor. During his time in the Officer Training Academy, he didn’t think anything could get the best of Vanessa Parker. She was by far the strongest person he’d ever met, both physically and mentally. He had to remind himself that she was still that same strong person, even if she seemed broken. They were trained to keep going despite any wound or injury. Parker would be okay, and Dean meant what he had told her. She would be invaluable to him with Chavez and Tallgrass both sidelined an
d Captain Grant gunning for him.
Dean quickly finished his meal, returned his TCU to his head, and left the mess hall after handing in his meal tray. He then went to the detention cell to retrieve Tallgrass.
“We aren’t supposed to let the prisoner leave,” the big HA Specialist named Tate said.
“Call your Captain and tell her we need to have Sergeant Tallgrass evaluated in the med bay,” Dean said, his patience with the Raptor platoon wearing thin.
A few minutes later, Captain Grant showed up in person outside the detention cell where Dean was waiting. It was obvious from the way he stormed toward Dean that Grant was angry. Dean wasn’t sure he had the patience to deal with the insufferable captain yet again after the day he’d had, but he didn’t have much of a choice.
“Why do I have to come running back here every time you need something?” Grant demanded.
“Are you talking to me, Captain?” Dean snapped.
“Damn right I’m talking to you.”
“Get control of yourself, Grant, before I have you thrown in the detention cell for insubordination.”
“You just give that a try,” Grant replied. “Unlike you, some of us have work to do.”
“Captain,” Dean said, trying his best to calm down, “from this point forward you will address me as your superior officer. You will instruct your platoon that my orders are to be carried out without hesitation and certainly without running to you. And you will cease this pathetic attempt to establish your dominance. You are a Recon platoon leader. Start acting like one.”
“Your platoon is compromised, and your leadership is sadly lacking,” Grant thundered back. “I will give no such orders to my platoon, and this insane request to move the prisoner is a prime example. She stays here until the disciplinary committee has questioned her and made a decision. It’s standard procedure, Blaze. You don’t get to change the rules just because you were Colonel Davis’s pet.”
Dean thought he was going to punch Captain Grant right in the face, even though both men were in full armor and a fist fight wouldn’t accomplish anything. The only thing holding Dean back was the fact that Grant had two hulking specialists on guard duty, while he was alone in the wide passageway. If he lost his temper with Grant and attacked the man, his two HA Specialists would intervene, and Dean had no doubt that he would be injured in the fight—perhaps even killed.
“What’s going on here?” Captain Parker said as she hurried toward them. “I could hear you fighting all the way down the corridor.”
“This idiot thinks I’m going to let him free the prisoner,” Grant said.
“I don’t think that’s what the Major is doing,” Parker said. “And Captain, if I hear you insult a superior officer again I’ll have you brought up on charges.”
“What I need,” Dean said, “is for your HA Specialists to escort Sergeant Tallgrass to the med bay for her eval before the disciplinary hearing. Captain Grant, you have my orders. Will you carry them out, or should I have you removed from command?”
Dean still didn’t think he could win a fight with the three members of the Raptor platoon, but having Captain Parker, a hand-to-hand combat expert, by his side certainly gave Grant pause.
“Fine, but if something happens to the prisoner I’ll make damn sure everyone knows why,” Grant growled, brazenly stepping into Dean’s personal space.
“Captain!” Parker shouted. “Stand down and get control of yourself.”
Dean turned away, using all his self-discipline not to shove Parker away from him. He felt weak just turning away from the obvious challenge. Still, he knew without a doubt that losing his cool was the wrong move. He needed a more advantageous position from which to deal with Captain Grant, and until he found one he would have to stay in control.
“Let’s move the prisoner,” Dean said.
One of the HA Specialists stepped into the holding cell and called for Tallgrass. A few minutes later, she was being escorted down to the Hannibal, where she was taken on board to the med bay. Robb Landin sat her in the same seat where Dean had been not long before. The MRS didn’t take long, and then the HA Specialists took Tallgrass back to the holding cell. It was the last order of business Dean had before he could get some rest. Checking his wrist link, Dean saw that the disciplinary committee had scheduled a hearing in just over six hours. Dean would attend, but only as an observer. With Captain Parker on the hunt for the missing Pergantees, Dean actually had a little time to grab some rest. He went quickly back to the communications center to make sure all was well and found Esma waiting for him.
“What’s this?” Dean asked.
“Even commanders have to sleep,” she said.
“I was planning on it,” Dean said. “It’s been a hell of day.”
“I heard. How’s Staff Sergeant Chavez?”
“Out of surgery, but not out of danger yet,” Dean said, before slumping down into his chair. “All I want to do is carry out this mission, but it seems the entire universe is against me.”
She put a hand on his shoulder as he pulled off his TCU.
“I’m not against you, Major,” she called him by rank with more than a touch of pride. “It’s good to see your face.”
“And yours…I can’t tell you how glad I am that you’re here.”
“Well, I know you can’t take off your armor, but I wouldn’t mind laying down close to you,” she said with a smile. “We have a long voyage and I want to make the most of it.”
“That sounds good to me,” Dean said.
Half an hour later, he was stretched out on a mattress that had been laid on the floor in a holding cell that had been converted into crew quarters. Dean had taken a small area next to Esma’s. The space was surrounded by curtains, with dozens of other crew members in identical berths. Someone had suggested that a special area be made for the officers, but Dean had rejected the idea. He wasn’t too good to bunk with his platoon, and by snagging a spot next to Esma, they were able to pull down the curtains between their respective berths and slide their mattresses close together. Dean had his helmet beside him, and Esma was already asleep on his other side. She didn’t lie on his armor, but she was curled close and he liked hearing her slow, steady breathing.
Dean’s broken forearm ached; the wound in his upper shoulder from the gunshot as he left Space Base 13 burned as if it were on fire. He knew he could have put his TCU on, activating his armor’s emergency medical services. A little shot of pain medication would have put him right to sleep, but he felt more connected to Esma without his helmet and he didn’t dare take a chance that he might oversleep and miss the disciplinary hearing.
As he lay awake, he couldn’t help but think about how much the service had changed. Everything about EsDef had fascinated Dean since he was a child, and being selected for service was a dream come true—but his successes, while satisfying on the one hand, had been accepted on their merits by very few people other than Colonel Davis. The promotion to captain and his Planetary Medal of Honor were spurned by most of his peers as a publicity stunt. Dean couldn’t help but wonder if they were right. He had risked everything to ensure that humanity got the Urgglatta technology on the alien ship he had captured, but he wasn’t sure the reward reflected the effort he had put into the mission.
His battles with the Kroll had almost all been failures in some regard. Even capturing the Kroll ships, which had only been possible because the aliens had gorged themselves on colonists, was a tainted victory. And finally now they had a chance to strike back at the Kroll, only they couldn’t stop fighting amongst themselves. The Pergantees bothered Dean, but it was Captain Grant that made Dean worry. He was a dangerous man, and if Dean wasn’t careful he would be locked in a detention cell right beside Sergeant Tallgrass while Grant took control of the mission. The arrogant captain might be capable, but Dean recognized a climber when he saw one. Grant wanted to rise to the highest position possible, and Dean was just another distraction that might overshadow Grant’s achievements on th
e mission.
There were less than five hours left before Dean had to be up and ready for the disciplinary hearing when he began to nod off. A plan was slowly forming in his mind. It was just a shadow at that point—just a hint of what might be possible—but it was enough to give Dean the peace he needed to snatch a few hours of much-needed rest. His eyes closed, and his body began to relax as much as it could while still in battle armor. Change was coming, and Dean needed some rest if he was going be ready for it. He drifted off to sleep, dreaming of a quiet place far from fighting and strife. Esma was there, and so was Chavez. Dean didn’t know if he was dreaming about the future or perhaps death, but for as long as it lasted, he enjoyed every second of it.
Chapter 26
“As you can see, this normally dormant area of her brain—” the med tech swiped at his data pad, and the image on the screen of Sergeant Tallgrass’s brain zoomed in on a small area near her brain stem, “—is activated. I would venture that the slight pink color means that whatever happened to her mind with the Pergantee is in the past. It is still an obvious manipulation since this area of the brain is impossible for a person to activate on their own. None of the other specialists we tested showed any abnormal brain activity, including Captain Parker and Major Blaze.”
“And you’re certain this is abnormal brain activity?” Admiral Masterson asked via the vid screen that showed him on the makeshift bridge of the Dodge City.
“The computers all register the activity as abnormal,” the tech said. “As I’ve said, it’s a dormant area in the brain, impossible for her to activate on her own. According to my research, this area of the brain has been activated during neurotherapy to help with diseases like Parkinson's and epilepsy, both of which involve involuntary movements. And with the Wolfpack platoon as a comparison, I have to conclude that something outside of Sergeant Tallgrass was manipulating her at some point.”
“At some point?” Admiral Ruth Aviv asked. She was also attending via vid feed, but from a private chamber on board her Kroll longship. “We can’t know how long or to what effect the Pergantee manipulated her mind?”
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