“Sir, it’s not … it’s not that I’m not grateful, but is that even possible? I mean—”
“You’re really going to ask me if a change in your rank is possible?” General Armon shook his head and took a long breath. “We have a dragon in an underground bunker where we are decoding alien technology that allows us to travel the universe. Point is, we need more officers and, if you’re going to be basically in charge of a ship, you need the promotion. That’s the most I can justify. It’s more than that, too. The soldiers need leaders, and I see you as leadership potential.”
“Point taken, sir,” Riot said, understanding the irony in her previous statement. “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me. You made the choice an easy one. I’m willing to give credit where credit is earned.” General Armon tilted his head as he listened to a report that came through a tiny earpiece in his left ear. “Ketrick is on the way.”
Riot nodded along with the words. Rising to the rank of Warrant Officer was something she had never dreamed of, but to the general’s point, neither had she dreamed of traveling past their solar system or meeting a dragon in real life.
“I’ll have all the information we have on the Grovothe sent to your quarters,” General Armon said, giving Riot a glance that actually looked like something past his normal hard stares. A look that showed he might actually care for her past her being a Marine. “Be careful, out there. You took excellent care of your team during the last mission despite overwhelming odds. I trust you will do the same on your second outing.”
“I will, sir.” Riot was going to say more, but heavy steps from outside stopped her next words.
A hard knock came at the door.
“Come in.” General Armon stood from his seat. He pulled down his uniform jacket to smooth out any wrinkles.
Ketrick moved into the room, his massive frame making the small room seem even tinier. His red eyes glanced over to Riot for direction.
Good luck, kid, Riot thought. You’re going to have to convince him on your own.
“Ketrick, thank you for coming. I know it’s late,” General Armon said, filling the silence. “I’ll get right to it. Riot and her team are leaving on a mission tomorrow, and she expressed concern that you may want to accompany them.”
“She would be correct in assuming so.” Ketrick moved his inquiring eyes from Riot to the General. “I understand I am an emissary between your people of Earth and my own, but I am also a warrior. I don’t intend to stay at the Bulwark if there is work that needs to be done.”
“I would caution you that the mission she is going on is dangerous. If something were to happen to you…” General Armon paused, trying to think of the correct words.
“You’re concerned that if I fall, my people will hold you responsible.” Ketrick nodded along, understanding everything the general wasn’t saying. “General Armon, my people understand how much a debt we owe Earth, and especially Master Sergeant Riot, for saving my life. If I were to fall in combat, my people would only hold stronger to their word. My mother is a wise and stubborn woman. Oh, and if I may, Vikta would like to stretch her wings under the cover of night.”
“Who—” Realization hit the general. His eyebrows rose as he considered the fallout. “I’m willing to allow you certain privileges in light of our new alliance. If you want to take your dragon out, you take her out high over the ocean at night. The last thing we need is reports from terrified citizens of a giant dragon soaring over the California coast.”
“Thank you, General,” Ketrick said with a wide smile.
“Well, I can’t keep you or your dragon against your will,” the general said as if he had always known the conversation would go this way. “You’re free to go out tonight, and with Warrant Officer Riot on her next mission.”
Riot stood in the lowest level of the Bulwark next to Ketrick and Vikta. The underground hangar was a massive room filled with varying sizes of ships the Syndicate had left them. There were fighter crafts meant to hold a single person, midsize cruisers like her own, The Valkyrie built for long distance travel and a dozen or more Marines, and finally, the battleships that looked like flying cruise liners.
Riot admired the crew of mechanics and technicians who worked around the clock to maintain and build even more of these crafts. Once the Syndicate had given them the technology to build spaceships of their own, it was game on. The far end of the hangar was reserved for new crafts in varying states of repair.
These ships were all primarily dark grey. A few of the cruisers had deep purple undertones, and the smaller fighter crafts were etched with bright blue around their hard corners and sleek surfaces.
“Easy, easy, fierce one,” Ketrick said, stroking the snout of his dragon. “We will be away in a moment. First we have to convince Riot to come.”
“Say what?” Riot grabbed her flat stomach as she feigned laughter. “No, no, no, I’m here to make sure you and Vikta get out and have a good time. This Marine is fine right where she is.”
Ketrick looked over to Vikta, who snorted.
The dragon was capable of altering her size from the height and bulk of a compact car to an entire building. Vikta changed now. Her whitish-grey scales elongated as she made the transition from kind of scary to truly horrifying.
Riot took a few steps back to allow room for the dragon to change. The hammering and white noise of voices and machines in the hangar quieted as every worker took a moment to pee their pants.
Vikta was a true wonder. From a mouth that could swallow Riot in one bite to her swishing tail and folded wings, she was a perfect combination of beauty and horror, rolled into one large package.
“She says you’re afraid,” Ketrick laughed, approaching Vikta. He patted her on the side of her massive left forearm.
Riot reminded herself to close her jaw. The walls of her mouth were dry. “Yeah, I’m not even going to try to lie to you on that one. I’m standing in front of a dozen tons of muscle and teeth. You bet your red alien eyes I’m a little hesitant.”
“Hmmm, you think?” Ketrick looked from Vikta to Riot and back again. He ignored Riot for the time being and carried on a conversation with Vikta. “I don’t know if she’s ready. She’s tougher than she looks, though. Maybe I’ll ask her.”
“Would you and Vikta like to share with the rest of the class what you two are talking about?” Riot asked, folding her arms over her chest. She had the sinking suspicion that she was about to be peer pressured into something she didn’t want to do.
“Vikta thinks you should ride with us tonight.” Ketrick shrugged and raised both his hands in sign of surrender. “Not my idea. She’s the one who likes you.”
“Oh, and you don’t?”
“You know I do.”
Riot’s cheeks flushed. She was suddenly painfully aware they were still the center of attention in the hangar. She turned on her heels, scowling at a mechanic with a steel rivet in one hand and a gigantic metal tool in the other. He was gawking at the trio, his mouth wide open.
“Come on, back to work, people,” Riot said, clapping her hands together. “There’s nothing to see here. Chop-freaking-chop.”
At once, the noise of work in the hangar picked up again. Hammering sounded, and the sound of steel being cut filled the air.
What are you going to do? Riot asked herself as she turned back to an inquiring Ketrick and Vikta. It’s not every day you get invited to mount a dragon with a muscled warrior that rivals Conan. It could be your only chance.
“I’m in,” Riot said, pushing away any fear she was feeling, and took a step toward Vikta. “How do we mount up? Is there a roll-out stairwell or something?”
Ketrick shared a shocked glance with Vikta. The dragon narrowed her eyes. Riot swore the corner of the dragon’s mouth turned up in a grin. The beast brought its head down and nudged Riot with the heavy tip of her snout.
“Vikta approves of your courage,” Ketrick said, about to put his hands on Riot’s waist to give her a boost onto th
e dragon’s back. He paused for a moment. “May I?”
“Let’s get this show on the road,” Riot said with a nod. “Are there seat belts or something to strap in to up there?”
50
Maybe I was too hasty in my decision-making process.” Riot sat behind Ketrick on Vikta’s back. The massive dragon rose to all fours and unfurled its wings.
Vikta’s left wing clipped a small blue-and-grey fighter craft that looked like a Corvette with two small blasters fixed on each wing.
The tiny craft skidded on its wheel into a much larger destroyer. A dozen mechanics’ heads rose from their work and eyed Riot with scowls.
“That’s our bad,” Riot yelled lifting her hands up to calm the dirty looks. “That one’s on us. Back—uh … as you were. As you were.”
“Ready?” Ketrick asked Riot.
“As ready as I’m ever going to be.” Riot felt sturdy on Vikta’s hard back. The dragon’s scales were as solid as stone but at no point did they point up. Spikes ran down the dragon’s spine. Riot grabbed the one in front of her.
Without further warning, Vikta launched upwards. The sound of the dragon’s gigantic wings beating the air on either side of Riot was like listening to the sounds of a gathering storm as the wind picked up speed.
All around them, the mechanics in the hangar ducked their heads. Workers widened their stances so as to not be blown over.
Ketrick said something Riot couldn’t understand, before Vikta shot forward. The jerk was so sudden, Riot grabbed on to Ketrick’s firm torso in front of her.
Riot’s adrenaline spiked as Vikta aimed for the circular tunnel built into the side of one of the hangar walls. The tunnel curled up, sending them out into the night sky.
The feeling of riding without a harness as the wind rushed past Riot’s short, brown hair was like nothing she had ever experienced. The closest thing she could relate the feeling to was riding on her Harley down the Pacific Coast Highway.
One moment, they were in the hangar; the next, they were engulfed by the dark steel that made up the underground tunnel. Lucky for Vikta, the diameter of the tunnel was made large enough for the destroyers to pass through.
Bright, white lights set into the walls of the tunnel clicked on as they progressed upward. Riot leaned to the right to see past Ketrick’s wide shoulder. The tunnel exit was already open, providing a view of thousands of sparkling stars that made up the Milky Way galaxy.
Cold air caressed her face as Riot experienced a surge of happiness and something she hadn’t felt in a very long time: Freedom. The unlikely trio soared higher and higher until the shoreline below them was nearly invisible through the darkness.
Vikta finally evened out. She beat her wings slowly in time, like a metronome, as they flew farther and farther away from land. White-capped waves grew and diminished below them. Tiny lights on the dark ocean signified ships.
Riot could only imagine the looks on the sailors’ faces if they happened to look up and see Vikta pass.
“What do you think?” Ketrick leaned back and shouted into Riot’s ear.
“Perfect,” Riot shouted back. A jittery feeling of contentment climbed up her spine as she cracked a huge grin no one could see.
When they finally came to a stop on the side of a mountain, she leaned back and stared into the sky, and just felt like laughing.
“It wasn’t always like this, here,” she told him. “When the Syndicate was still in charge, you wouldn’t believe the trash heap Earth was. It felt like living in a cockroach infested toilet, if you know what I mean.”
“Cockroach?” he shook his head.
“They’re these little bugs that can’t be killed. I mean, it’s like—”
“Like you,” he replied with a wide smile.
“Excuse me?”
“You and the War Wolves. I’m quite certain there’s nothing that could kill you. You’re cockroaches.”
For a moment Riot couldn’t decide whether she should be flattered or offended, but then she just started laughing and laughing. Soon Ketrick joined in, though he didn’t seem to know why. When they were done, they stayed up half the night sharing stories about their worlds and the old days. It was a perfect night, with the warm breeze of the dragon’s breaths at their back as it slept—or pretended to sleep to give them privacy—and Ketrick’s smile reminded her why she was fighting here. For all of these moments. So that they would never stop.
That night was a memory Riot knew she would always keep close. It was a memory she would need to get her through her next mission.
“Are you sure we have to go today?” Corporal Chen Wang said, brushing lint off the shoulders of his uniform. SPEAR had provided them with special uniforms when traveling in space. Wang wore his dark-blue-lined grey uniform, signifying his class.
He was the first to arrive at the hangar the morning after Riot had received the news. Riot was still on an emotional high from her outing with Vikta and Ketrick the night before. She felt rested and ready to dominate whatever task stood in her way next.
Her own uniform was dark grey, but lined with red where Wang’s was blue. Her uniform was plain except for the circular SPEAR patch on her right shoulder and her rank on the left side of her chest.
“I’m sure we have to go,” Riot said, nodding to the rest of her squad as they entered the hangar. “I’ll brief you all once we’re in the air.”
“It just couldn’t be worse timing,” Wang said, shaking his head in disbelief. “I had such a hot date lined up for tonight.”
“Your mom in town again?” Vet asked, joining the two.
“My mother is a beautiful woman,” Wang said, glaring at his friend.
“No argument there,” Vet said, waggling both of his eyebrows, the one over his good eye and the other over the metal patch set into the socket of the other. “I remember last time she came down and visited.”
Your mom’s hot. Rizzo used sign language with a shrug. Sorry, but it’s true.
“I’m going to kill you both—”
“Riot, what’s that on your chest?” Doctor Miller pointed to the new insignia designating Riot’s new position.
Everyone gawked at the promotion. Ketrick was the only one who seemed confused by the doctor’s question.
“Doctor Miller”—Ketrick looked to the others, confused—“those are called breas—”
“Congratulations, Warrant Officer Riot!” Wang, Vet, and Rizzo all snapped to attention and saluted.
“Sorry we didn’t recognize sooner.” Vet’s signature scowl turned into a lopsided grin. It was one of the few instances that anything but a frown touched his face.
“It’s all right,” Riot said, saluting her men in return. “It just happened last night. Is everyone ready to settle in? We need to be in the air within the hour.”
“Roger,” the responses came back, even from Doctor Miller. It seemed that the civilian scientist was picking up on the native dialect.
“Who is this ‘Roger,’ and why do you always refer to him?” Ketrick asked. He looked from one Marine to the next, searching for answers.
“I actually have no idea.” Wang picked up the duffel bag at his feet. “Ask Evonne when we board. She’s full of useful information.”
Wang was referring to the ship’s Artificial Intelligence that inhabited their ship, the Valkyrie.
Riot’s unit crossed the hangar floor, heading for their ship. The Valkyrie was a military-class cruiser equipped for long-distance travel, with enough weapons to defend itself in a firefight.
The exterior of the ship reminded Riot of a bat emblem she had seen on an old superhero movie a long time ago. The Valkyrie had a long nose and a heavy wing that sloped up toward the front of the ship on each side. The wings each ended in a sharp edge. Each wing end was fitted with an intimidating cannon. The back cargo ship door sat under a row of thrusters that powered the ship.
The door was closed now as Riot and her unit approached.
Rizzo pointed to the side of
their dark grey-and-purple ship. A huge cheshire smile crossed his lips, revealing a set of perfect white teeth.
Everyone’s gaze swung up to see what had brought Rizzo such joy. On the side of the ship’s hull, in large white lettering, were the ship’s name and a mantra below it that read: The Valkyrie, Click, Click, Boom!
“Huh,” Vet huffed. “They let us keep it, and they actually touched it up so it looks good. No offense to Rizzo or Ketrick, I’m just saying it looks nice.”
The Trilord and Rizzo shared a glance. They had been the key influencers of changing the ship’s name from Peace Envoy One to what they saw now.
“I thought it would be nice to have everyone on the same page, since the ship’s previous name was a constant subject of scrutiny,” Doctor Miller said as she brushed a long strand of blonde hair behind her ear. “And no, before you ask, the answer is already no.”
“How do you know what we were going to ask?” Riot lifted a brow in the doctor’s direction. “We could be asking what you want for breakfast.”
“Unlikely, though that would be nice,” Doctor Miller said, shaking her head with a laugh. “You cannot call yourselves the War Wolves on a mission where we are trying to build alliances, but—”
Doctor Miller lifted a finger to hush whatever was about to come out of Wang’s and Vet’s mouths. The two already had their jaws open ready to protest.
“But after much debate and filing the right paperwork, I have a surprise that I think will make everyone very happy,” Doctor Miller said, clearing her throat and adjusting her black-rimmed glasses as if she were preparing to give them the news of their lives. “We now have SPEAR’s permission to refer to ourselves as … wait for it … Oh, this is so exciting. I can’t wait to see the looks on your faces. PE-One!”
This chick, Riot thought as she studied the Doctor. She thinks she’s doing us a favor by allowing us to call ourselves by an acronym. She actually thinks she’s helping us.
War Wolves: Boxset 1-3 Page 21