by Smith, S. E.
“The Lady wasn’t captured like the other prisoners we found. She was forced to surrender because her offspring were being held hostage. This whole exercise is for nothing if we don’t rescue the kids because they’ll just force her to surrender again.”
He stared at her. “And since they know she returned on this ship, they will require her to tell them all she knows about us and where we came from.”
His shoulders rose and fell in a sigh. He turned away, paced several steps and turned to face her again.
“We have their location. We’re going to try to get in and out as quietly as possible, using the remaining shuttles.”
“You’re going to leave the Emissary—” He stopped, turning to run a hand over his hair, then turning back to her. “And us. My team.”
“Yes.”
“And if they find the Emissary or you do not return?”
“Rita will lift off and initiate comet drive. She’ll get you home.” City might have crossed her fingers behind her back. Rita would have to get clear without getting destroyed. But if she could get the ship into comet drive, they would make it home.
“Possibly leaving you all in enemy hands?”
“Rita knows she can’t rescue us if we get captured.” Nor could she retrieve their bodies. She was a great AI, but she was not a magician.
“It could be a trap,” he pointed out.
“It is a trap.” It was City’s turn to sigh. “I don’t think they can plan well enough to deal with Bull—OxeroidR.”
“He is a formidable opponent,” Faxton agreed. He looked down, then up, holding her gaze. “I’m not staying here. I took the training before joining the expedition. I…want to go with you.”
His tone did not inspire confidence. He was scared. Smart man. And that was not the request she’d expected.
“With all due respect, sir, that training—”
“I realize it is not up to your level, but I passed. We all passed,” he repeated. He gave her a wry grin. “I can shoot straight.”
Why did the term “friendly fire” come into her head?
“You don’t think the others—”
“Dr. Dauwn, perhaps not. I won’t speak for Brittani, of course, but I expect her to make the same choice.”
“Why?” While they were in the Teuhhopse system, there was no truly safe place, but they’d be better off with the ship, with Rita.
“I…we came to make a difference. If this is the only way, then I will go. In battle, numbers help, do they not?”
If the guns were pointed the right direction, but she did not say this. She nodded. “All right, but I’m asking everyone to verbally confirm their voluntary participation.” If only Rita made it back, she wanted the truth known.
“Of course.
“Once I have that, I’ll get Jenkins to set you up with gear.” She hesitated. “The plan is to move as soon as we set down on Teuhhopse. All personnel will need to be on board the shuttles before we make our last hop.”
And it was unlikely that Faxton would have the opportunity to point, let alone shoot at anything. They were going in quiet and fast and getting out quiet and even faster. She ignored the chill dancing down her back as she left him.
* * *
The bridge of the Emissary was quiet. Even Rocky had left to eat. City entered and sank down into the co-pilot’s station next to Bull. She might still be shocked that Faxton and Brittani had opted to join the assault force. Or she was too tired to feel anything.
No surprise Dr. Dauwn wanted to stay with the ship. He was a scientist and older than everyone else. Did he mind being left with a sentient AI? His absent-minded persona was too deep and wide for her to know.
She tapped the console, bringing up the list of people who had given their verbal agreement to join the rescue mission.
“Which shuttle should the Lady go in?” Perhaps what she really wanted to know was could they trust the bird not to betray them? There was no question that this was risky. She and her offspring could die. They could all die. What kind of premium did the bird put on freedom? Or would she rather live, let her young live in captivity?
Bull angled his body so that she could see the red slits of his eyes. “The Harparian should go with Rocky and me. The rest should deploy with you. The Harparian and her young will return in our shuttle.”
“Once she’s lifted off, I’ll put a rifle team and Kraye on your shuttle?”
“Yes.” It is possible he hesitated. “Your diplomatic team is going with us?”
“Not the scientist.” He might look like he was inventing flubber, but he knew better than go into a possible hot zone. She hoped the other two would leave their red shirts on the Emissary. Or change their minds. “Do you trust her?”
Bull did not ask her who she meant. “I do not.”
“But you’ll try to help her.”
“If we do not, then I will be required to kill her. We cannot risk her surrendering to the S’Kassidaen’s.”
“She knows too much.” They’d already talked about this. “If it was me, I would want us to try,” she admitted.
“You are honorable,” Rocky popped his head up to say.
She eyed the squirrel. “You could stay here, you know.”
The squirrel circled his patch of robot three times and then curled up once more.
“He can help,” Bull said. He turned back to his controls. “Tiger will come with us, too.”
Tiger? City blinked. She opened her mouth to protest, but closed it. Was she going to argue with the robot? Or a caticorn?
“You need to assign an operation name,” Bull reminded her.
“Let’s call it Operation…Motley Crew,” she said.
* * *
City paused with just the lower part of her battle armor in place. In an odd display of caticorn tact, Tiger had turned his back on her while she changed. Under the armor she wore her lightest weight uniform. Now that she was decent, she sank down by him and ran a hand down his back. He ramped up his purr, the one with a bit of neigh in it. And some whinny. It was strange, but comforting. Reminded her of sitting on the porch with her Grandma’s cat on a warm summer day.
Wow, did that feel far away.
“I won’t say there is a safe place to wait, Tiger, but if you stayed with the Emissary and Rita, or the part of Rita, you’d have a better chance.” She’d seen close up scans of the area around the encampment. Trees as tall as redwoods, with massive trunks and huge patches of alien ferns—with leaf edges that looked like sharp spikes. A ground mist clung to all of it, hiding what could be lurking under there. He had the horn, but it only pointed one direction.
Best case, only she and her Marines would deploy around the shuttle while the hostages and the rescuers boarded. It was likely that the time of greatest danger would be after lift-off.
He looked up at her, his cat eyes so soulful she felt guilty for trying to save his life. He carefully angled his horn away from her and nuzzled against her hand, his purr-neigh increasing.
“What’s your story?” she murmured, scratching under his raised chin.
He blinked. With a sigh, she gave him a final pat, rose and reached for the rest of her body armor. She slid one arm in, catching sight of the caticorn watching her with a look that was not cat-like—a look that disappeared when her gaze met his.
What was his story?
* * *
“We’re keeping the operational names from our last operation,” Caro said, pacing in front of those involved in Operation Motley Crew. Kraye had blinked when he heard the name, but lacking a frame of reference for the term, he did not waste time pondering it.
She pulled up a hologram showing the ships and personnel.
“Golf Sierra Alpha, or GS Alpha, will include Bull as Alpha1, Rocky as Alpha2, Tiger as Alpha3, and the Lady Yodrirka as Alpha4. Once on the ground, the Lady, Alpha4, will fly cover.”
Had she winced when she gave Rocky a code name? Kraye was not sure. He had seen her wince when she gave
Tiger a code name. He noted some of those in the room looking at the caticorn on a chair next to the Lady, then exchanging looks.
“Golf Sierra Zulu, or GS Zulu, will carry everyone else. The order of command for our team is me as Zulu1, Kraye as Zulu2, Jenkins, you’re next in command as Mike1 and Reid is Mike2. Spencer, you’re Mike3, Fox is Mike4, Burns is Mike5, Knight is Mike6. Mr. Faxton, you’re Delta1 and Dr. St. Danniels you are Delta2. I realize the code names might present some difficulty to our diplomatic team. Please practice them and do not, I repeat, do not use real names or real locations over the radios.”
She said this, he was sure, for the benefit of the two Deltas. She pulled up another visual, a map this time.
“This is our area of interest. We’ve divided the encampment into zones. Zone one is where we’ll land the shuttle or shuttles after Alpha1 gives us the pick up signal. Our first LZ, our strike zone, is here. Only myself, Zulu2, and the Mikes will disembark here. Mikes will deploy first and clear the area. At that point, the Alpha team will deploy.”
She nodded to Kraye, and he took up the narrative.
“Our task will be to keep the shuttles secure so that we can pick up the Alpha team when they call for us. Once we receive the pickup code, the Mikes and Zulu1 will board Golf Sierra Alpha. I will board Golf Sierra Zulu. We’ll lift off and fly low and cloaked for Zone 1. Unless directed by Alpha1, only GS Alpha will land for the pickup with GS Zulu providing aerial cover fire.”
His insides clenched as he thought of Caro in battle without him, but she and OxeroidR were correct. He had more flying battle experience than Caro.
“What about us?” Faxton asked.
“If GS Zulu has to land, it will be your job to protect the shuttle, keep it from being boarded by hostiles,” Caro said. “I believe you’ve both been doing sims for that scenario?”
Faxton nodded. St. Danniels appeared surprised, then also nodded.
“You’ve all received a map that shows how we’ve divided the encampment into zones. Memorize those locations. Alpha1 will use them when he calls us in.” Her gaze centered on the two Deltas. “Knowing where other members of the team are, and staying where you’re assigned, should keep anyone from taking friendly fire. Anyone,” she emphasized.
She paced in front of them, her hands clasped behind her back, then faced them with a tense smile.
“We’re planning for worst case. We do not expect a fire fight. Bull is, well, this is his thing. Our main task is to get the hostages safely on board the shuttles and get the crap out of there.”
Kraye knew why. Once they were in the air, they faced a different kind of challenge. And if they made it back here—he closed off his thoughts. Focus on the task in front of you. Wise advice from his captain.
“Questions?” City asked.
“It sounds complicated,” St. Danniels complained.
She was dressed quite functionally, Kraye noted, and showed no signs of discomfort, except around her mouth and eyes which were pinched with tension, he supposed.
“It is complicated. You did live fire exercises during your training, didn’t you?” Delta2 nodded. “It’s like that only worse. And we can’t afford you or Delta1 to shoot one of us. Those of us with more experience will have heads up displays in our headgear that will give us the location of everyone on the ground. We won’t shoot you, so don’t shoot us. Please.”
“But how will we know?” she asked. “Will I have a heads up thing?”
“Trust me, you don’t want a heads up display. If you’re not used to it—If we approach the shuttle, we’ll inform you via radio. Using code identifiers. You have my permission to shoot anything or anyone who doesn’t warn you they are incoming to the shuttle.” The female did not seem reassured, so Caro added, “Your weapons will be set to high stun. It will hurt, but it won’t kill anyone.”
She looked relieved. “I’m basically a pacifist. But I’m also totally opposed to taking hostages and things like that. Separating kids from their mom.”
Caro lifted a hand, massaging her temple as if it pained her.
“Well, you picked the right time to help out,” Caro said, her tone more polite than pleased. “Have I missed anything?” Her gaze moved from one person to the next.
Kraye saw no sign her Marines moved, but she appeared satisfied. He sensed the two diplomats did not know what else to ask.
Caro paced again, then stopped.
“If you get cut off or captured, activate your emergency beacon.” She lifted her arm, showing them where it was located on the wrist. “This is the last option to use. And you need to realize, if this mission goes south, there may not be anyone to come. The armor also has a self-destruct here.” She pointed it out and then paused, her gaze once more tracking around the room. “The hostages were probably moved to the compound as bait for the Lady. This is not a soft target. We are hoping to strike before it is fully hardened. We have to have a care for the hostages. They don’t. That’s why we’ll start with non-lethal fire, only going lethal when we are sure the target is the enemy and you have no other option to neutralize a threat.”
She paced once more, the scrape of her boots against the metal floor distinct in the silence. She stopped and faced them for the last time.
“This is your last chance to stay with the ship. There are risks in staying. I’m not going to lie to anyone, but your chances of getting home alive are better here. When we leave this room, we’re heading down to the shuttle bay. If you don’t make it, well, it means you’re not crazy. We’ll adjust force placement before boarding the shuttles if anyone drops out.”
For the first time, the edges of her mouth moved in a half smile.
“Let’s move out.” She turned toward her headgear, but stopped before securing it. “Kraye? A quick word?”
He felt surprise, but nodded, waiting until the room had emptied before moving closer to her. She met him half way.
“We’re going into battle and, well,” she said. “I just wanted—” She arched up on her toes and pressed her mouth to his.
Heat flared. His arms slammed around her, dragging her close. She met him halfway again, pushing to be close to him. Their battle armor was the only reason he did not go up in flames. He kissed her, moving his head one direction, then the other. Each drag of her lips against his healing even as it burned with an inner fire.
Her radio buzzed, and they fell apart. Her face was flushed, and he assumed she dragged in air as desperately as he did because of the way her shoulders moved. She rubbed her face. Her smile lit the fire inside him again, but they were out of time. He touched her cheek with a hand that visibly shook.
“I—” he did not know the words, so he pulled his hand back, touching his heart.
She touched her heart, too, then activated her radio.
“We’re on our way.”
7
The Emissary dropped into normal space. This time they didn’t have to wait to cloak. City didn’t fool herself this meant they hadn’t been spotted. The space around Teuhhopse was still clear of space traffic, but City didn’t let that get her hopes up either.
Initiating an avoidance maneuver while awaiting next course to be plotted.
Rita, at least a piece of her, and Bull were driving from their shuttle. City and Kraye were on the scanners in theirs though neither fooled themselves into thinking they could find anything faster than Bull could.
Thanks to the laws of physics, they had a small window of opportunity before they could be seen and that information transmitted to wherever their enemies were hiding. Of course, while that information was traveling to their enemies, their scanners and Bull were scanning for a safe place to land before the enemy had time to react to their arrival light.
City checked on her passengers through the video feed. Looked like everyone was strapped down. Her Marines were wearing their usual stone faces. Her two Deltas had their diplomatic faces in place, but both of them gripped the arms of their chairs hard enough to turn their knuckles wh
ite.
“I have located an LZ for the Emissary. I have located an LZ for the shuttles. Sending you the data,” Bull said, over the radio.
“He’s fast.” She glanced at Kraye, feeling no embarrassment over the heated kiss they’d exchanged. Mostly she hoped she’d get to do it again.
Kraye half smiled. “He is that.” Even though he was as out of the flying loop as she was, his expression was intent, focused on what the data told them. He’d be studying their flight path after shuttle launch in case he had to take over the controls.
The course change for planet insertion was slight, only visible on tracking. They’d dropped in as close as they could to where they wanted to go in. This was also near the region of the scary bird mountain ranges. They hoped to shorten the time their entry track was visible. They’d arrive at dusk and reach the encampment when it was dark and movement was at a minimum.
It felt like the silence was ticking—slow ticking, the waiting kind of ticking. She missed Tiger’s purr, she realized. Felt her stomach clench with worry for him.
“Let’s pipe some music in, Rita,” City suggested, once more eyeing her tense Deltas. She wasn’t sure it helped them. At least it filled the silence with something. One of her Mikes started to tap his fingers on his knee in time to the music. The others looked like they were cat-napping.
She felt it when the Emissary entered the upper atmosphere, felt it as the ship encountered resistance and then was rocked by turbulence. It was, she knew, only going to get worse. Currently the mountain region was experiencing strong winds with potential rotors. Bull indicated confidence in the ship and his ability to fly it. She had asked everyone to take advantage of a Garradian air sickness reduction device prior to their strap down. So far it appeared to be working. No one was green. Or puking.
This was the hardest part. Once they were moving, acting, it got easier. Action was always better than being strapped in a seat wondering if you’d missed something.