by Zen DiPietro
Fallon didn’t know what kind of support Colb had behind him. There were far more unknowns than Fallon preferred for a mission. Precision strikes were more her style. But she had a target, and a final chance to save the PAC, and Prelin’s ass, she’d take it.
Which put her right back where it all started. In Wren’s maintenance bay. Wren wasn’t lying under some rust heap this time. She turned the moment Fallon walked in. Fallon watched Wren study her face. A crinkle appeared between Wren’s eyes as she stopped in front of her.
“What’s wrong?”
Three mechanics tried to pretend not to be listening. Fallon ignored them. “I need your help.”
Wren stiffened her spine and said, “Let’s go.”
Wren was already yanking things out of their tidy spots and piling them onto an anti-grav unit when Fallon left the shop. The other mechanics had been given the afternoon off and Hawk and Peregrine would arrive in minutes. That allowed Fallon to see to her other pre-mission errand.
“Do you have any other dirty tricks?” she asked.
To Cabot’s great credit, he didn’t bat an eye. He hadn’t minded ushering a customer out in the middle of a negotiation, either. The favors she owed him were stacking up.
“What kind of dirty tricks are you in the market for?” he inquired.
“The kind of thing that the hero uses to save the day and live to fight again, while saving the universe.”
“Oh, that kind of thing.” He nodded knowingly. “Unfortunately, I sold my last one the other day, but let me think what else I might have.”
The man was positively unflappable. He’d have made an excellent BlackOp.
“There might be something, depending on your specific needs. Would you like to follow me to my warehouse?” he asked.
Even under the circumstances, Fallon froze, staring at him. Cabot was notoriously secretive about his stockroom.
“Oh, come on now, Chief. It’s not like there are many secrets between us at this point.” He walked to the back of the store without even looking to see if she followed.
“There might be one or two.”
He waved a hand dismissively. She followed him behind the counter and into his secret sanctum. It didn’t look like much. Impressively organized rows of shelving stood stacked neatly with various boxes and items. Cabot strolled down the third row, stopped, and removed a box the size of a small suitcase. He returned to where she stood, next to a table, and set the box down. He gestured to it with a little flourish.
She unlatched the lid and removed it. “What the hell are you doing with two crystal-matrix converters?” The mechanisms that allowed the conversion to power interstellar flight were incredibly expensive. She hadn’t realized how successful a trader Cabot was.
“Waiting for the right buyer. I also have high-quality energy-transfer units to go with them. Both brand new, zero degradation. As you can imagine, it takes a special buyer to make this kind of purchase.” He smiled benignly.
“Yeah, I’d say so.” A ship’s value was largely based on its propulsion system, and this was pristine, high-quality equipment.
He rested a hand on the side of the box and nudged it toward her. “Take them. If speed is important. And if it isn’t, you can use one of these to create a rather impressive bomb. The same engineer who could install them into a ship could make them quite…incendiary.”
“I sure hope we don’t have to blow anything up.” Fallon couldn’t imagine what would cause her to destroy the very thing she was trying to rescue. Still. Better safe than sorry. “But thank you.” She curled her fingers around the box.
“I’ll get the transfer units.” He strode in one direction, then paused and changed course. After picking up a small box, he resumed his original path and retrieved another case.
“Here. I acquired this just the other day, thinking it might be your kind of thing. All-purpose, you might say.” He pushed the box at her.
Inside she found a weapon case. Lifting its lid, she saw a projectile weapon. “A harpoon pistol?”
He made the scoffing sound of someone who’d been insulted. “A priyanomine harpoon pistol, thank you very much.” He touched the handle. “Priyanomine harpoons, as you may know, are much more deadly than any bullet. They’re noncombustible, nonconductive, and durable enough to withstand an explosion—or pierce a bulkhead. So watch your aim, unless you’re trying to depressurize a ship or a station.”
Under any other circumstance, she’d be highly irate at him having such an item on her station. But she could use every advantage she could get right now.
“Yeah, that could be useful all right.” She’d never used one. On the one hand, she hoped she got the chance, and on the other, she knew that would require a dire situation. “We can settle the price when I get back.”
His benevolent expression faded, changing into something far more shrewd and grim. “If what you’re going off to do is anything like what I suspect, I’m the one who’ll owe you. Along with all the other citizens of the PAC.”
“When I return, we’re also going to have a very frank, in-depth discussion.”
Rather than seeming perturbed, he smiled. “I’m looking forward to it. You hurry back.”
“I’ll do my best.”
25
Coalescence Chapter 10
“So how does it feel?” Hawk asked.
Fallon spared him a brief glance before returning her attention to navigating the Nefarious. “How does what feel?”
“Flying your team into battle, along with an admiral, and a few civilians. Plus, the fact that you see two of those people naked on a regular basis.”
This time she turned her head to give him a frosty glare. “Fine. It feels fine.” After a pause she added, “And shut up.”
He laughed. “Come on, Chief, this is our biggest adventure yet. Got to laugh about it.”
She smirked. She liked that her team had adopted her Dragonfire title. “I’ll laugh when someone says something funny. Why don’t you go see how Wren and Kellis are doing in the engineering room?” Sadly, this was the closest her ship had ever come to having a proper crew. It still fell short, but at least she had an engineering team.
“I could just call them.”
“But then you’d still be here,” she pointed out.
He laughed. “All right. Don’t mind stretching my legs.” He ruffled her hair on his way off the bridge.
She smiled after he left. He was funny. She just didn’t want to encourage him.
At the moment, she wanted a little time to think. To work through the details and possible scenarios. To plan how best, in every situation, to protect her team. And salvage the PAC.
Her deep thought was interrupted by Raptor’s “Hey,” as he took the seat recently vacated by Hawk.
“Hey,” she answered.
“Thought I’d keep you company. While you think.”
He sat silently beside her for hours as they blasted through space at the highest speed she’d ever flown the Nefarious. She was risking mechanical damage, but she had replacement parts and two brilliant engineers. She watched many millions of dark kilometers blast by as she thought ahead to what was to come.
And still he sat there. Just silent and there. For her. Neither of them left their post and when they finally saw Jamestown appear on the viewscreen, rotating the wrong direction and way too fast, she turned her seat to face him.
“Thank you,” she said.
“You’re welcome.”
She hesitated, fighting an internal battle. She felt like he deserved to hear a declaration of feelings, but for her it felt like scraping all her guts out and dumping them on the floor. But screw it. She’d get it out, quick and clean. Like getting a hand lopped off by a samurai sword. “I love you.”
He looked surprised, then scowled. “Prelin’s ass, we’re all going to die, aren’t we?”
“I hope not.”
“Well, don’t go saying a thing like that in a situation like this. It doesn’
t sound right, coming from you, and I don’t like it.” He gave a quick head shake. “I mean I do, it’s great, but still. Just no.”
She laughed. “Okay, I take it back.”
“Can’t take it back.” He grinned at her. “But you should probably go say it to that wife of yours. She might be freaking out about now.”
“You think I’d marry a freak-out type? No way. You have a lot to learn about Wren. Also, she’s not my wife.”
He said nothing. Just smiled and made a shooing gesture at her.
She relented. “Fine. I should check on everyone anyway, and get ready. Call Ross up to take over the Nefarious. I’ll see you on Jamestown.”
“Aye, Captain.” He sat in the pilot’s seat when she vacated it. “Hey.”
She turned around. “Yeah?”
“I love you too. And I know saying it isn’t your thing, so in the future, don’t. I already know. Always did.”
She smiled. There was only one thing to say to that. “Blood and bone.”
His return smile said everything that would ever need to be said. “Blood and bone.”
It pleased Fallon tremendously to see the two best engineers she’d ever met in her engineering room. She walked in behind Kellis and Wren as they both stood looking at the propulsion chamber.
“Did you break it already?”
They turned quickly, amused.
“We were just admiring it. This is one fine ship you’ve got,” Wren said. Her eyes shone, and she looked absolutely lovely.
“Enjoying the change of pace?” Fallon asked her.
“Absolutely. And it’s very interesting to get a glimpse into your life.” Wren glanced at Kellis to include her in the conversation. “And what a surprise to learn that this one had already gotten a glimpse.”
“More than a glimpse,” Fallon said. “She stormed a PAC base with us.”
Kellis made a self-deprecating gesture. “I didn’t do much. Just tagged along, really. Cut through a bulkhead.”
“Still, the idea of seeing all this in action is fascinating.” Wren showed none of the nervousness Raptor had anticipated. Hah. She’d have to rub that in later.
“Let’s hope you still think so once we get on the station. Do either of you have any questions?” Fallon had thought hard about which engineer to take to Jamestown and which to leave on the ship. She’d decided that since Kellis was more accustomed to working on board a ship while Wren had more experience on a station, there was no reason for them to switch that up.
“You’re sure I shouldn’t come with you on the Outlaw?” Wren asked.
“No. It’s a great ship, but you’ll be safer here. Plus you’ll have more people to protect you during boarding. I don’t expect Colb to let us waltz right in. The only question is how much protection he has.”
“Do you have any idea what kind of ships we can expect?” Kellis asked.
“No. He had time to get to a mercenary station, which means he had the opportunity to hire mercenary ships. Those could be anything from slag heaps to warships. So we’re planning on warships. Classes and models, I have no idea. We’ll have to adjust as we go.”
“Right.”
“Anything else?” Fallon asked, looking from one to the other, but they both shook their heads, looking determined.
“Good. I’m off to the cargo bay to get ready.”
“Can I walk you there?” Wren asked.
She remembered what Raptor had told her, and nodded. “That’d be great.”
It felt strange yet nice to walk with Wren down the corridors of the Nefarious. Wren was finally seeing who Fallon truly was.
Fallon was proud of her ship, her partners, and the rest of her crew. She wasn’t glad that Wren would be mixed up in whatever was about to happen, but she was very glad to know she could rely on the best engineer in any galaxy to handle whatever the station would throw at them.
In the cargo bay, Fallon ran a hand over the flank of her little race-car ship. “This is it. Gets some amazing speed and maneuvers like a dream.”
Wren laughed. “It’s funny to see you so excited about flying. I didn’t know that about you.”
“There’s still a lot you don’t know. Sorry you ever asked me out?”
Wren elbowed her. “Absolutely not. Best thing I ever did.”
Wren faced her full-on, and Fallon braced herself for a teary farewell.
Wren leaned forward, gently pinching Fallon’s nose. “Beep.”
Fallon laughed. “I’m flying off to save the universe and you beep my nose?”
Wren grinned. “Not the universe, just a bunch of galaxies. And I know you don’t want an emotional scene. So a beep seemed the safest course of action.”
“I like it. Thanks.” She wrapped her arms around Wren for a hug. Wren returned the hug tightly, belying her flippant words.
Fallon looked into her eyes. “Wren.”
“No.” Wren stepped back, holding a hand up in front of her. “Nope. Say it when you get back. You’ve already done the ‘dire circumstances’ goodbye. No sense in repeating yourself.”
“Are circumstances dire? You just said it’s only some galaxies to save. I mean…pfff…no problem.”
“Good. You remember that. Now up you go. Strap in nice and safe, and I’ll see you when you get home.” She turned and sauntered out as if she hadn’t a care in the world.
Fallon was still smiling as she went through her pre-launch checklist.
“Fallon, are you seeing this?” Ross’ voice filled the Outlaw’s small cockpit. She rested now, attached to the outside of the bigger ship, waiting for her moment. They’d practiced these maneuvers and she knew they were ready to do them for real.
“Yep.” As they neared Jamestown, she saw five ships. Two were small, no match for the Nefarious. One was a mid-sized wild card—no telling if it was a real threat. Of the remaining two, both were worth a good portion of concern. The larger was a much older model than the Nefarious but clearly in excellent condition.
“Ross, you’re going to take on the big guy. While you’re working on that, I’ll keep the others busy. See if I can get the little ones out of the way.”
“Okay, but watch yourself. You won’t be any use to us if you get yourself burned crispy like last time.”
“Understood. Good luck, Nefarious.”
“Back at you, Outlaw.”
She wouldn’t have admitted it to anyone, but she liked being called “Outlaw.”
She watched her viewscreen, even as she felt the Nefarious shift almost imperceptibly. They dove in beneath the lead ship, and her team unleashed the standard weapons attacks and evasive patterns. Well, standard for a highly trained military team. Ross had improved greatly during the drills they’d done, and she had faith in him. She had to have faith, because she had her own job to do and it depended entirely on him doing his.
While the Nefarious angled its belly away from the other ships, Fallon detached the Outlaw from its hull and hid behind Ross’ sensor shadow as long as she could. With the Nefarious occupying the lead ship, she streaked around it and unloaded some firepower at its aft section, where the life-support systems would be. Anything she could do to slow it down or disable it would give Ross a big advantage.
She sailed on by the lead ship, ignoring the two small vessels to focus on the second large one. If she let it get position on the Nefarious, the smaller ships could help at pinning Ross in, and it would only be a matter of time until their concerted efforts took him down.
Can’t have that.
She came in fast—too fast, technically speaking. If she anticipated her target’s movements incorrectly, or was too slow to correct her own craft, she’d ram the Outlaw right into it. She had no intentions of a suicide mission, but flying a little beyond tolerance was kind of her thing. Engineers always calculated tolerance conservatively.
Her target shifted slightly on its axis, protecting its aft belly from her. Just as it should.
The Outlaw wasn’t big enough for t
orpedoes, but Wren and Kellis had created a little something special for her, retrofitted for the Outlaw’s rescue beacon. Sure, she had no beacon now, but if she ended up in the shit, it wouldn’t be of any help anyway.
She made another pass, scraping close to the ship and launching the beacon. Except it wasn’t a beacon that flew toward the other ship and lodged itself right on that tender spot on the belly. The device sat there, and within seconds the ship went dark.
She whooped with delight. Cabot probably hadn’t expected her to use his electrical-killing “ancient good luck charm” this way, but it had sure worked. The ship was still a threat, but its crew would be occupied with restoring its oxygen flow and inertial dampening systems for the next, oh, fifteen minutes or so. Which was fine. She didn’t need to destroy these ships—and would prefer not to. They were only mercenaries. Criminals, sure, but not the kind who deserved an instant death sentence without a trial. All she needed was time to get on board Jamestown. She needed to disable the small ships to pave her way, and that of the Nefarious, assuming it took out the lead ship. She’d circle back if necessary.
As she made for the wild-card ship, her voicecom came to life on an open channel. “Outlaw, this is the Stinth. I can handle these two small birds.”
Fallon adjusted her trajectory, swooping out and around the ship. “That wouldn’t be Arlen Stinth, would it?”
“You got it, Chief. Cabot Layne called in a favor, so I’m here to assist.”
Fallon laughed. Now that was unexpected. Someone who had once gotten into a fight with two buffoons on Dragonfire’s boardwalk was coming to her aid. Every now and then, the universe was funny like that.
“Understood, Stinth. I’ll go help the Nefarious, and hopefully we’ll manage to get our asses on Jamestown.”
“Understood, Chief. Good luck.”
Fallon closed the channel. As she circled back to the Nefarious she saw a new ship appear on her sensors, closing on their location.
That was good news though. The call sign of the P.A.C.S. Roosevelt was broadcast loud and clear. The military flagship would flush out the mercenaries with relative ease.