Rogue World (Undying Mercenaries Series Book 7)

by B. V. Larson

  Graves nodded. “All right then. I’m going to hold you to that.”

  “Just one thing, Primus,” I said. “What outfit will I be leading? I’ve been promoted, but I’m not aware of any assigned—”

  “You’ve got my old unit. The 3rd is yours. Just have a heart and don’t wipe them until this mission is complete.”

  Graves’ announcement came as a shock, but it made sense. Since Graves had moved up to Primus, his old unit was in need of a commander. My follow-up promotion had plugged me right in.

  All my old comrades would be under my command. They’d be saluting me now, sure, but at least we’d all know what to expect from one another from the start.

  As I contemplated my first actions as a unit commander, my promotion to centurion began to feel real to me for the first time.

  It’s one thing to have some new doodad stapled onto your shoulders, but it’s quite another to be put in charge of a hundred and twenty armed fighters who relied entirely on you and your judgment.

  Despite my foggy state of mind, I resolved silently to behave as a man reformed. I had serious responsibilities now, and I wasn’t going to shirk them. That old, shifty James McGill was a figment of the past.

  Graves kept on talking while I entertained these thoughts, but I didn’t listen much. I figured I’d pick it all up on the flight out to the targeted rock.

  The whole operation looked like a cakewalk to me, anyways. After all, what could a bunch of science nerds in flapping lab coats do to oppose a professional force of legionnaires?

  They were already burnt toast in my mind.

  -13-

  Stepping out of the meeting twenty minutes later, I found Harris waiting out in the hallway.

  “Well, McGill?” he asked worriedly. “What kind of a bug-hunt is this going to be? Give it to me straight.”

  I looked at him seriously. Graves had admonished us, not five minutes ago, to keep our destination a complete secret. That said, Harris’ question didn’t seem out of line.

  “It’s not a bug-hunt, as far as I can tell. Looks like a pretty easy assignment.”

  He squinted at me. “Are you shitting me? All this prep and black-out—you’re telling me it’s going to be easy?”

  “The target looks pretty soft,” I said. “Sometimes, you’re quiet because you’re not so proud of your plans, not because you think the other side can stop you.”

  I began walking, and Harris fell into step beside me.

  “What’s your role then?” he asked. “Are you doing some kind of cowboy raid or something? Maybe teleporting in and playing commando?”

  I stopped walking and turned to him, giving him my biggest, shittiest Georgia grin. “I’ve got great news, Veteran,” I said. “I’ve been assigned a combat unit on this one.”

  “Really? A Varus unit? I thought you were special ops.”

  “Nope. Not today.”

  He looked at me thoughtfully. “But what unit? Has Winslade decided to…”

  Suddenly, the light bulb went on inside Harris’ fridge. He looked up at me, his eyeballs big and white all around.

  “You’re shitting me,” he breathed.

  “That’s right! Your ship has come in, Veteran. You and I—we’re going to be working together, tighter than two ticks in a dog’s ear.”

  His jaw dropped, but he didn’t get angry. He didn’t start shouting or run back to whine at Graves. He didn’t even turn away and leave. He just walked alongside of me. He moved like a man who was numb—a man who’d awakened from a nightmare only to find out it had all been real.

  “Oh now, don’t take it so hard, Harris,” I said. “I’m an easy-going commander. I don’t even care you called me a donkey-dick a few hours back. That’s water under the bridge.”

  “Who’s my adjunct… sir?” he asked quietly.

  That almost broke my heart. Harris had sworn for years that if there was one thing in this world he’d never do, it was call me sir. His brain had been sprained when I’d become an adjunct over him, but this time, calling me sir and all… Well, he sounded like a broken man.

  “Hmm,” I said, looking at him with a frown. “Could you hold on here for a minute, Vet?”

  “Here sir?”

  “Yeah. Just wait right here.”

  I did a U-turn and went back to Graves’ office. It took me maybe five minutes, and a string of promises longer than a tall girl’s arm, but I wouldn’t be denied.

  Returning to the hallway. I found Harris with his eyes closed, leaning back against the wall. He opened them again when I came toward him, and I saw they were bloodshot like he’d poured bathroom cleaner into both of them.

  Taking his hand, I placed a small box in his palm and closed his fist.

  “What’s this?” he asked suspiciously. “Are we supposed to swallow suicide bombs again?”

  He was referring to an unfortunate incident we’d shared long ago. But I shook my head.

  “Nah,” I said. “Nothing like that. It’s a present. Open it up.”’

  He did so suspiciously. When he saw a shine coming from inside the box, his jaw sagged down of its own accord.

  “Is this bullshit, McGill?” he asked.

  “No, it’s not some cruel joke.”

  “But I didn’t take any tests. I didn’t even apply to be an officer!”

  He took out the single bars of an adjunct and looked at them wonderingly.

  “Well, if you don’t want them,” I said, “I guess I could take this box back to Graves.”

  He put the insignia on his shoulders and snapped the box shut.

  “No, I want this…” he said. “I think I’ve earned it, too.”

  I clapped him on the shoulder. “If you haven’t yet, you will in the future. I guarantee it.”

  Harris and I had a strange relationship. Mostly, it’d been bad from the start. But today, I dared hope we could turn over a new leaf. Maybe we’d stop fighting so much of the time and act like a team. Well, a man can dream, anyway.

  We spent a few hours organizing our new unit. With Harris as my sidekick, I felt more comfortable, honestly.

  But there was another voice to deal with—two of them in fact. Adjuncts Toro and Leeson were frankly stunned by this series of events. What’s more, Harris’ promotion seemed almost as offensive to them as mine was.

  “Let me get this straight,” Leeson said. “I’ve been plowing shit for this legion for thirty years, and the most junior hick in the outfit gets promoted over me?”

  “On top of that,” Toro chimed in, “the noisiest veteran in the unit moves up into the officer ranks without so much as a memo appearing on my tapper?”

  Harris and I glanced at each other. We’d both been insulted, but that wasn’t too surprising. Leeson had always been a complainer—and Toro? Well, she wasn’t the best officer even on a good day.

  “I guess Graves calls them like he sees them,” I said in an uncompromising tone. “Now team, we’ve got to pull it together right-quick. We’ve got a special transport, the Nostrum, coming to pick us up in the morning.”

  “What port?” Leeson asked. “Monrovian or New Dulles?”

  I blinked. I realized I must have day-dreamed through that part of the briefing. “Uh… I’ll find out. I got to the briefing late.”

  Harris bent over his tapper while I continued talking to my new adjuncts. They were suspicious, and a mite pissed off. They did seem to be listening, however.

  “That’s it, sir?” Toro asked when I’d finished.

  I nodded.

  “To get to the waypoint markers on the ground,” she said, “we have to cross four kilometers of rocks—but what do we do when we get to the target?”

  “We penetrate the dome, which is supposed to be defended by automated installations.”

  “Pillboxes? Drone turrets?”

  “Something like that,” I said, “we’ll get past all that and enter the dome. Anyone there is to be arrested and removed. If they resist, we shoot them. The bombs will fall aft
er we signal the all-clear anyway.”

  Leeson squinted at me. “McGill, why are they sending a legion if there’s only a handful of scientists down there?”

  “Well… there was mention of some secret weapons development. Earth gov gave them notice to evacuate, and some did. But others stayed behind. I think they might have delusions of seeking independence.”

  Leeson snorted. “There’s no such thing—fools!”

  “That’s right, and we’ll give them that message loud and clear. When they see us storming into their dome, I’m pretty sure the nerds will fold up and beg for mercy.”

  Mollified, my adjuncts stood to break up the meeting, but Harris spoke up. He’d been messing with his tapper since the start of the meeting.

  “New Dulles,” he said. “We ship out from there at 0800 hours.”

  I nodded to him. “Thanks,” I said, and I meant it. Maybe Harris would be useful if he kept feeding me facts that I was too lazy to look up for myself.

  “Wait a minute,” Leeson said. “There’s something I don’t get.”

  “What’s the problem?” I asked.

  “This new transport is fast and light, correct? But we only have enough room aboard for our own troops on the way out. Are you talking about evacuating survivors? How many scientists are we talking about?”

  “Uh…” I began, blanking out.

  Harris was all over his tapper. Apparently, he’d already gotten access to the officers’ briefing notes. “An estimated five to fifteen thousand of them stayed under the dome,” he said. “That’s according to our recent intel.”

  Leeson and Toro both looked suspicious. It was an occupational hazard when you fought for an outfit like Legion Varus.

  “How the hell are we going to take that many prisoners off-world with us?” Toro demanded. “How big is this starship, the Nostrum?”

  I felt just a tad of unfamiliar heat coming from under my collar. Although I knew the answer to this one, I didn’t want to tell them they were going to be fried on the planet when the bombs fell. That kind of information wasn’t helpful for morale.

  “There’s a contingency plan for that,” I said firmly. “We’ll find out more on the trip out there, I’m sure.”

  That seemed to satisfy Leeson and Toro, who moved off to get their people marching in the right direction. Standard operating procedure in these situations was to herd the troops aboard a sky-train to the airport and have them sleep on the lifter. They tended to get lost and go AWOL otherwise.

  Assigning my adjuncts to the duty of keeping my unit together, I slipped out of Central as soon as I could. After all, rank did have its privileges, and I felt I’d suffered enough over the last few days to warrant an unscheduled break.

  -14-

  We had about twelve hours left until go-time when I finally got out of Central. That wasn’t much time, even for an experienced legionnaire, but I was determined to make the best of it.

  I called my parents and told them to hang on, because I wouldn’t be able to help them for a few weeks. They’d made it home all right after the incident at the Mustering Hall, but they’d been worrying about me ever since.

  The fortunate news I’d been promoted erased all their concerns. I assured them I’d come back home as soon as the mission was done—almost instantly, in fact.

  They didn’t get it, but that was okay. They carried on for a time, worrying about me in advance. I told them about my promotion and took a few shots of myself with my new shoulder-bling in place. That settled them down and got their minds onto a more positive track.

  “You’re sure you’ll be back in a month?” my dad asked. “That’s quicker than usual.”

  “I’m pretty sure.”

  “Don’t worry about me,” my mom said. “I’ll be just fine. One more transfusion next week should keep me going until you get back.”

  She sounded and looked as weak as a cat on my tapper screen. I frowned at that. I might have to hurry my plans along.

  “I’ll see if I can speed things up,” I told both of them, and I signed off.

  Until that moment, I hadn’t been sure where this version of James McGill might want to spend his last night on Earth. But an hour later found me knocking at the door of Anne Grant once again.

  Anne opened it a crack and peered out into the dark. I knew there were cameras on me, but she seemed surprised to see it was really me anyway.

  “James?” she said. “Why are you back here tonight?”

  “Oh, come on,” I said. “After yesterday, a man could hardly expect to be satisfied with a night alone.”

  She didn’t open it any farther. “Struck out at the local bar, did you?”

  “What? No way. Smell my breath, as God is my witness, I haven’t had a drop tonight.”

  She heaved a sigh and opened the door. She was wearing a gauzy pink robe that went down just far enough to cover her butt. I followed her in with that formal invite and plopped myself on her couch.

  “Hey,” I said, “have you heard the Legion is shipping out in the morning?”

  “Yes… they sent me a reenlistment offer.”

  “Really? You joining back up again?”

  Anne shook her head. She had gripped her pink robe in her hands and wrapped it tightly over her breasts. She looked at me with continued suspicion. I was not yet feeling lucky about the situation here.

  “Is that why you’re here?” she asked. “To get me to come back to Varus?”

  “No ma’am. I wouldn’t dream of ruining an idyllic life like this one. I’m here for some company before I go off and die again.”

  Anne sighed and seemed to relax somewhat. That’s about when she noticed the red crest on my sleeve and the bars on my lapels.

  “You’re a centurion now?” she exclaimed in obvious shock.

  “That’s right,” I said. “Graves moved up to primus, leaving an opening.”

  “But you had to be the lowest man on the seniority list…” she said, thinking hard. “Leeson and Toro must be pissed off.”

  “They took it pretty well, all things considered.”

  She cocked her head, and I could tell she was thinking hard. I hated that look when it crossed a woman’s face. It almost always meant trouble for the likes of James McGill.

  “You had to have help to move up this fast… You’re kissing up to Turov again, aren’t you?”

  “No ma’am!” I said. “She’s not happy with me at all, let me assure you of that.”

  Anne chuckled. “All right. I believe you, I guess. It’s a pretty easy thing to believe.”

  “Yeah…” I said, my eyes wandering around the place. “You mind if I dig in your fridge?”

  She indicated I should take what I wanted with a wave of her hand. I jumped up and got to business. The contents of her kitchen weren’t overwhelming, mind you. She was a single skinny girl living alone, but I made do.

  Bringing back a pair of beers, I cracked them open and put one in front of her. Then I made a meal out of yogurt and cold chicken.

  She talked while I ate—sitting on one corner of the couch, hugging her knees. This didn’t bother me at all. In fact, I thought it was a good thing. Women often felt better about you after they told you a couple hundred things about their day.

  But something she said over the next ten minutes caught my attention, a remarkable feat in and of itself.

  “What’s that?” I asked. “You’re working for a private revival firm? I didn’t think there were any of those.”

  She let her head roll back and stared at the ceiling.

  “There are,” she said. “I tried to run my own practice, but regs for civilian medical work are different than they are in the military. I could only get a job playing nursemaid. But then I found this deal. The money was too good to pass up.”

  I eyed her intently. “How can regular people afford revivals?”

  She shrugged. “With cash, of course. It’s still expensive, but there’s money rolling into this planet now. All those sq
uid worlds we took over—they need services. The tax-money isn’t all going into the new fleet.”

  “Huh,” I said, considering various scheming thoughts. “Anne, what if I were to make you a proposition?”

  She released a puff of air. “I’ve been waiting for that.”

  “No, no, not like that. Not exactly.”

  Anne smiled at me, she got up and sat down next to me. Her butt, barely covered by that pink gauzy stuff, was right up against mine. Her legs were bare, and due to her sudden proximity, I found I had trouble thinking about anything else.

  She kissed me then.

  What could I do? What would any proper man do? I wrapped my arms around her and got to business. She felt good in my arms, and she smelled good, too.

  My last night on Earth turned out to be a fine one, but I kept having nagging thoughts about my parents. I knew I couldn’t help them yet. I just had to come up with the right angle to do it.

  Pretty soon, I forgot about all that and just enjoyed myself. Anne seemed to be happy, too. We fell asleep together and dreamt of peaceful times.

  -15-

  My tapper woke me up in the morning. I opened one eye and looked at it. I was relieved that the caller was Della and not Graves.

  “Why didn’t you talk to Etta—or me?” she demanded.

  “About what?” I sat up and blinked away the sleep.

  “About our mission! We’re leaving her again, and she didn’t even know!”

  It was never a good idea with the ladies, but I couldn’t help it. I rolled my eyes. She caught that through my tapper vid, and she didn’t like it. She was beginning to pick up on Earth gestures after all.

  “Your attitude is completely selfish,” she said, “I see it clearly. What kind of father doesn’t tell his girl he’s going off to die again?”

  “Oh, come on, Della,” I said. “My parents were supposed to tell her. I didn’t exactly have time to go home for a tearful goodbye. I was kinda busy getting killed and revived a couple of times. Besides, I’ve been raising her, not you. She’s tough as nails, in case you hadn’t noticed.”