by Zen DiPietro
Peregrine nodded.
Of course they had complete trust in Raptor. But the idea of putting a splitter in the brain of someone they’d once cared about rubbed Fallon, and no doubt the others, the wrong way. The fact that Whelkin had suggested it, even planned for it, indicated that he was for real. Which would mean that he was one of the good guys.
A half hour later, the men returned. Whelkin looked tired and stressed, but Raptor and Hawk had relaxed. Fallon peered at Raptor questioningly.
“He’s with us. I injected him with a subdermal vitamin pack and he didn’t even flinch.”
Fallon’s jaw unclenched. Raptor had made Whelkin think he was going to install the splitter, using Whelkin’s willingness as a litmus for his trustworthiness. He’d passed the test, and kept his brain intact. A big win for Whelkin. Not too shabby for Avian Unit, either.
She stood and gave her former instructor a proper bow. “Welcome aboard, Captain Whelkin.”
The thing about hot information was that if you didn’t act quickly, it would evaporate into nothing. And Whelkin definitely had hot information, even if some of it was a few months old.
He’d gotten his ass—and ship—royally kicked in trying to follow up on that information. He’d been on communications blackout during that period, which explained why they hadn’t heard from him sooner. All the while, he’d been orbiting a little lab located on the dark side of the minor moon of an uninhabited planet.
But Whelkin’s scrapheap of a ship had started leaking neutrinos, causing him to be detected. He’d only escaped by luck, and if Avian Unit hadn’t arrived when they had, he still would have died.
“So what’s in the lab?” Fallon asked after she punched in the coordinates he’d given her. If she didn’t like his answers, she’d veer off long before they got close. The planet was of no consequence, so far as she could tell. It didn’t even have a name recognized by the PAC, just a numerical designation.
“Biotech. Advanced stuff. Endocrine boosters, neurotransmitter enhancers. Garbage that doesn’t make a person less killable, but makes them much slower to die.” Whelkin’s face showed his disgust.
Fallon’s lungs stalled, as if she’d walked into an unpressurized airlock. Her body heated and she felt light-headed. She’d known they were chasing down something big, but these things…they were crucial items that all PAC treaties hung on. Just like neural implants for augmentation. The only reason to have such things would be for espionage or war. Some sort of plan for galactic domination?
Regardless of intentions, if the PAC was in possession of such things, it could mean a breakdown of the entire cooperative. Full-scale warfare would be inevitable.
Why would someone deep inside intelligence want to risk tearing this sector of the universe apart? And what kind of scientist would even agree to work on that kind of tech? Fallon’s shock transitioned into fury, and she channeled that feeling into cold professionalism.
“And neural implants, right?” Fallon kept her voice even.
“Yeah.” Whelkin seemed surprised. “How did you know?”
She smiled humorlessly at him. “Meet one of the first test cases.”
Understanding and pity dawned in his eyes. “Taravok.”
She knew that name. Had come across a vague reference recently during her digging for planets with two moons. “Tell me.”
“I saw the mission notes. You were scheduled to be there. But there was no mention of why, and then you went off the grid. I assumed you recognized our destination.”
“Why would I?”
His forehead crinkled in confusion. “The coordinates I gave you are for Taravok.”
“According to the PAC, we’re headed for 942864-B.” She felt cold all over.
“Taravok isn’t its official designation.”
That explained why she hadn’t been able to discover more about it. But now Whelkin had put them on the path to the place that had been plaguing her for months. “Apparently I did go there. And thanks to Blackout’s experimentation on me, I’ve lost every memory I had prior to the past six months.” She corrected herself. “Almost seven now.”
He grimaced, but ultimately only said, “I’m sorry.”
She understood. There weren’t any words for losing your whole past. She’d been used for something, it seemed. Then they’d wiped her memories and tried to kill her. But she’d retained fragments of herself. Instincts and slivers of memories, combined with things that others had described to her. She’d never lost who she truly was and now, she’d take the things they hadn’t managed to steal from her, and she’d ram it all right down their throats. Then she’d get her ass back to Dragonfire and take back her memory.
“Increasing speed to Taravok.”
“You okay?” Peregrine had stayed behind when Raptor and Hawk took Whelkin to the mess to get some food.
“Better than okay. I’m ready.” Fallon didn’t have any doubts.
Peregrine sighed. “I’m not good with the emotions stuff, but it seems like you might have a lot going on in your head right now. Are you sure you don’t need to, like, talk about it or some shit?”
“Oh. Well, when you put it that way.” Fallon snorted out a laugh.
Peregrine snickered.
“Now that you mention it—” Fallon smirked, “—I was hoping we could talk about my inferiority complex.”
Peregrine chortled. “Okay, but after that, let’s get into my fear of abandonment.”
They both hooted with laughter, only to have Hawk charge in, looking ready to tear apart a planet with his bare hands. When he saw them, red-faced from hilarity, he pulled up short.
“Uh. What?” He looked from Fallon to Peregrine.
Fallon tried to answer, but didn’t manage anything coherent. His perplexed look added fuel to the fire.
Peregrine choked out, “Overcompensating for something,” and they both howled.
Fallon didn’t think she could feel any better. She was in command of the pilot’s chair on one entirely badass ship, wearing a bandolier of knives, with stingers strapped to her arms and thighs—all set to kill. Best of all, she had a sword holstered on her back. She felt like the embodiment of vengeance, a tool of righteousness. And she didn’t give a damn if that was egomaniacal or delusional. Scrap that. If she needed to search her feelings after they stormed the lab, then she could sit down with Per for some more girl talk.
The idea made her snort, and Hawk sent her a dirty look. He hadn’t quite forgiven them for their bout of stress relief earlier. She hardened her features back into their warrior mask, and he looked satisfied.
She’d never seen Avian Unit looking so fine, with all of their weapons and equipment. Well, not that she remembered anyway. Hopefully soon, she’d know for sure.
She enjoyed the aggressive approach vector, which exceeded PAC safety regulations. Fallon was more concerned with speed, to prevent the lab from calling help. Fortunately, the target had no air support at all. Probably because there was no point in hiding a lab only to draw attention to it with defenses.
She pulled off a rough-and-fast landing on the moon, and then their boots hit the ground. Hawk and Whelkin took the front. Per and Fallon followed, with Raptor covering the rear. Getting in was easier than anticipated. They had the pass codes, thanks to Whelkin, and there were no DNA checks. Sloppy work, in Fallon’s opinion, but she wasn’t going to complain.
Just before they breached the building, Fallon had a moment of clarity. As far as her memory was concerned, this was her first frontal assault with Avian Unit. Was she ready?
She absolutely was.
Her team walked right in, surprising the hell out of the dozen fully armed guards stationed just inside the lobby. Her adversaries had put some effort into keeping this place secure, after all.
Raptor had hacked the proximity sensors beforehand, which allowed them to catch the guards completely unaware. Hawk and Whelkin pressed forward, taking most of the targets out before the others could do much. Fallon flung
her knives whenever she had a clear shot past her team, but with so many bodies in the room she had to be careful not to knife a friend in the neck. Peregrine pushed forward and engaged hand to hand.
Finally they made it into the lab itself. First priority: neutralize the scientists. They’d intended to stun and zip-cuff them, in order to question them, but damn if all the people in the lab didn’t have weapons.
Change of plan.
The lab workers wielded their weapons poorly, like the inadequately trained scientists they were. Fallon’s team neutralized them in moments, but she regretted the need to do so.
She and Whelkin went to see if any scientists still breathed while Raptor and Hawk took on the database.
“Rip the whole thing out. I want it all,” Fallon ordered as she pressed her fingers into necks in search of a pulse. So far, nothing.
“It’ll take a few minutes,” Raptor called, engrossed in the process of removing the emergency data core. “I have to make sure everything has copied.”
Meanwhile, Peregrine crammed equipment into bags. Every now and then she whooped something unintelligible. Fallon had no idea what Peregrine was finding, but clearly it was good stuff.
“Got it!” Raptor eased the self-contained core into a polymechrine case and snapped it closed.
“Help Peregrine finish.”
Hawk, Per, and Raptor made short work of grabbing any other equipment that looked important.
Fallon touched the final scientist, a human woman, and was surprised to find a faint pulse. She turned the woman on her back and checked for breath. Breathing, but barely.
Fallon went to the drug locker Peregrine had almost emptied and located a powerful stimulant. She injected it into the scientist’s neck. Within seconds, the woman’s eyes opened.
“We’re clearing this place out. Is there anything important not contained in this room? A separate storage area?” They’d check either way, but if the woman had details, Fallon could use them. She was well aware that she didn’t have much time left. A distress signal had been sent out as soon as the people at the lab realized they were under attack.
The woman’s pale face moved from side to side. “That’s everything,” she wheezed. Her eyes were wide. “Who are you? Blackout?”
“We’re the ones who are going to keep the PAC intact.”
The woman’s eyes clouded again. The stimulant was strong, but it couldn’t stave off death. “That’s…good.” The woman went still, and her eyes fixed on some unseen point, unfocused.
After confirming that there was nothing else of note in the small building, Avian Unit hustled their stolen goods out of there. Then they threw themselves into the Nefarious and launched. Which was fairly easy, since the moon had no atmosphere.
As the distance between them and Taravok grew, Fallon felt a rising tide of triumph. They’d turned the tables. Blackout now needed to be very afraid of them, and what they could do with everything they’d discovered.
The reversal almost seemed too easy. Everything always turned on a pin the width of a hair. One tiny change, or one fact falling into place. She lived a life of serendipity, long jags of waiting, and sudden surges of activity. Meanwhile, always waiting for that other shoe to drop. It was a strange existence.
She took a last look at Taravok and its two moons before clearing the solar system. They weren’t identical to the ones in her dreams, but no matter. They were pieces of the puzzle, and the puzzle was starting to come together.
15
Fragments Chapter 10
When Fallon saw a ship coming in fast, she knew it wasn’t a coincidence. She hadn’t expected to get away with looting Krazinski’s lab of war crimes without consequence, and here came the consequence. Game on.
She flipped through her sensors, gleaning as much as she could about the incoming ship’s specs and armament. “That’s a beauty right there, Ravager class, stripped down and modified with two extra engines. No way to outrun it.”
She had to admire the sleek lines of the ship and its hulking engines. So much power. Faster than her Nefarious without a doubt, but without the maneuverability.
“When you’re done drooling, think you could get to work on our tactics?” Peregrine’s tone was halfway between exasperated and amused.
“Already on it. I can plan and admire at the same time.” She’d launched into calculating armament and maneuvers, while taking nearby stations and planets into consideration. Cascades of information flowed through her brain as she mentally simulated the battle over and over before it even began. She increased speed just short of maximum to keep them out of reach for as long as possible while she thought.
She pronounced, “They’ve got us overpowered and outgunned. But we’ve got more maneuverability and the best pilot in Blackout. It’ll be a good contest.”
Whelkin gave her a sidelong look. “As far as I know, there’s no Best Secret Intelligence Pilot Award.”
“Sure there is. You win it when you don’t die.” She began programming sequences for maneuvers into the voicecom. She had a plan, and without a second pilot of equal skill to back her up, she’d need to prepare meticulously.
“How’s your piloting, Ross?” Fallon decided that the current situation warranted a switch to his first name, though it felt a little odd for her to say to a senior officer. “Hawk’s the best of these three, but he’s more of a gunner than a flyer.”
“Better than average. I guess I’m your guy.”
“Guess you are. I need you in the copilot seat, so I can show you what you’ll need to do.”
She timed it all out in her head, trying to compensate for any surprises. She pulled back on the throttle, allowing the other ship to close in on them gradually. She explained her plan.
If Ross had doubts, he didn’t show it. He might turn out to be a decent teammate.
The Nefarious turned to take the enemy ship head on. Ross went in at an angle, nose down, looking for a shot at the enemy ship’s belly.
No luck there. The ship twisted away, circling around the Nefarious and letting loose with two torpedoes. The Nefarious rolled and went into a steep dive, avoiding one torpedo while the other grazed the stern of the ship, causing the Nefarious to shudder and alarms to start shrieking.
It wasn’t enough to endanger them. Poised to do her part, Fallon reminded herself to wait. Be patient. Find the right moment to unleash her surprise. Until then, Ross would have to keep dodging and taking hits.
The ships continued to circle one another. Dry plasma began to vent after laser-cannon blasts glanced the port side of the Nefarious. Fallon eyed the misty streams from her front-row view as they dissolved into space.
The Nefarious did well at dodging the blasts of the stronger ship, but the constant potshots began to concern Fallon. If her opening didn’t come soon, they’d all end up as vapor. At least at such close proximity, the other ship’s speed didn’t give it any advantage.
The Nefarious dove away, spinning, then pitched right back up directly toward the enemy ship. A hail of laser-cannon fire singed across the upper bulkhead. Fallon could imagine the streaks of black marring her lovely ship, and felt a surge of fury. She was sick of this shit.
“Attack plan delta,” she announced over the voicecom, silently wishing Ross and Hawk luck. Time to go for broke. The Nefarious bore down on the ship with Hawk firing a barrage of torpedoes and cannon fire. Everything they had, basically, thrown all at once. If this didn’t work, they’d be done for.
Then she saw it. A decompression from a side hatch knocked the ship off course. That was her moment.
Fallon detached the Outlaw from the belly of the Nefarious, where she’d waited for the entirety of the fight. Ross’ maneuvers had cleverly concealed her position.
From this distance, she couldn’t miss. She aimed the Outlaw’s laser cannons point-blank at the hatch that had decompressed.
The damaged section of the enemy ship blew up in her face, as planned. With less time to pull away than she’d h
oped for, pieces of the other ship slammed into the Outlaw. Shrill alarms alerted her to microfractures in the hull. Force fields struggled to maintain the ship’s containment, which put a strain on the life support systems. She tried to hold her breath but her chest felt heavy and she ended up choking and gasping.
The back of the cockpit had emergency containment suits, but she couldn’t spare a second away from the controls. Having air to breathe wouldn’t help her if she exploded.
Finally the haze cleared as she maneuvered away from the enemy ship, which blazed bright with multiple explosions. No doubt the Nefarious had done that, but she was too busy trying to get out of there to pay attention to the battle.
Too late. She felt a blaze of heat light up her back the same instant her sensors started shrieking. Her skin felt raw, as if she’d been charred over an open flame like a kabob.
Her eyes and hands still worked just fine, though, and with gritted teeth she circled twice to get the correct position to return to the cargo bay of the Nefarious. Her starboard thruster was blown to hell, and she could only adjust attitude by spinning all the way around.
Finally she eased the Outlaw into the Nefarious and shut down its complaining power systems before it could do something unfortunate, like blow up the bay. While the Outlaw cooled, she pressurized the bay. She hoped the Nefarious had fared better than her little race car, which might be nothing more than scrap at this point.
She heaved herself to her feet, only for burning pain to take her down to her knees. She coughed hard, unable to draw enough air. Were the life support systems compromised? She hadn’t thought so. She crawled toward the exit hatch, which fortunately opened when she slapped it.