Gunship

by J. J. Snow

  She eyed him irritably. He was right, of course. The problem was she still hadn’t been able to shake the images completely. When she closed her eyes they came back again, not as bad as before, but enough. The only way to stop them was to be bone tired, so tired that her body shut her brain down, shut her down even if she tried to resist. A tranq would do the same, but sometimes towards the end she would try to wake but couldn’t, because the drugs kept pushing her back under. Reilly hated that feeling—not being able to come out of sleep made her feel trapped and helpless. She realized Trace was still watching her, studying her, as he drank her coffee. She threw up her hands in frustration.

  “Fine! But I need to decompress first before I even attempt sleep.”

  Trace reached into his pocket and pulled out a box of cards, waving them at her while he continued with his coffee. She rolled her eyes and snatched them out of his hand, sitting as he pulled up a seat at the table. Reilly shuffled and dealt three hands, setting one aside as a ghost hand so they could play Naromian draw. The goal was to achieve the lowest score in the game, with star cards giving the players the ability to cancel one high-numbered card. Pentagons and pyramids were the highest values, while circles and cubes made up the lower values. A number of other shapes and designs completed the range in between. They both focused on the game, pausing only to make small talk with the crew as they prepared to head into town. After several hands, Reilly got up to stretch and put on the digital player, the music softly echoing bluegrass and country or rock in the background. Trace poured himself another cup of coffee, and she negotiated a cup of tea. They sat back down and he prepared to deal.

  “I’d like to hear some of those good stories you mentioned,” Reilly said in between sips of tea, “about Jeremy.”

  Trace paused and shot her a scrutinizing look. “I heard about what happened…after our talk. I know it’s not the same, but still…are you sure talking about it won’t make it worse? I’m trying to avoid ticking off your doctor.”

  Reilly winced briefly. She should have known her flashbacks would have gotten back to Trace. Tiny, Chang, and Ty would have been the first to let Trace know the impact he had had so they could ensure it wouldn’t happen again. She thought about his question. Talking about it could trigger the flashbacks again, but there was also a chance that good memories would give her something to focus on in place of the bad. She told Trace this, and he nodded thoughtfully as he dealt the next hand.

  “When I first got the job, working as Captain Gray’s—I mean Jeremy’s pilot, I was nervous as anything. Everyone knew he was this big hero, even though he always played it down. So for the first few weeks, I was pretty locked up, trying to make a good impression. He never said a word. He’d come in, watch me for a bit, and then go. So I had no idea if I was doing good or bad, if he liked me or he didn’t. He had me sweating like this for two weeks. One day he comes by and he tells me we have a ground mission and he needs me to drive one of the TORRs. So we land and I gear up and go to the mission brief. Jeremy runs us all through the plan, and it’s pretty hairy. Then, as everybody is getting ready to go, he walks up to me and shakes my hand and says, ‘Well, it’s been nice knowing you.’ Then he turns and walks off. We had just enough time for me to run in to hit the head before we had to leave, which was good because he scared the piss right out of me. Turns out it was just a milk run and we needed two TORRs for the extra crates. Everybody else knew except for me. I had my head on a swivel the entire time until we got back, and then the whole crew just fell out. How they kept it in that long I don’t know, they really got me good.”

  Trace shook his head admiringly as he finished while Reilly laughed. They continued to play and he kept telling her stories. The time Jeremy had put activated charcoal from a broken bio filter on all of the night-vision goggles, so when they got back everyone had raccoon eyes. Or the time he had disguised himself as a local and had done such a good job of it that the locals came up and warned him to stay away from the next valley because there was an ISU gunship parked there. The leadership from one planet gave him a pet iguanosaur, a reptile that looked like a cross between an iguana and a dinosaur.

  “Jeremy had wanted to keep the thing, but no one could tell him what it ate. So we tried giving it vegetation, then fruits, then meat, but the thing didn’t ever seem to eat any of it, yet it kept getting bigger. So finally we decide to follow it around one day to see where it goes, and the thing goes right down to the bay and starts eating a box of metal tools. It turned out they can eat and process metals, and it had been steadily working its way through the ship’s spare parts, tools, magazines, and ammo. Jeremy got rid of it the next time we made port, because none of us were sure what kind of effect ammo would have on it or if the thing was arming itself to take over the ship!”

  Reilly glanced at the clock, surprised to see that three hours had already flown by. Her sides hurt from laughing, but it felt good. It was the first time in a long time she had been able to relax and enjoy herself. Trace wiped his eyes, still chuckling, and refilled his mug. They had stopped playing cards an hour ago in favor of talking, and Reilly had moved into the old leather armchair while Trace rocked and balanced animatedly in one of the wooden table chairs as he told his stories. Some of them she had heard before, but others were new to her. She craved these the most, because their details made it seem like Jeremy was still alive. They helped her remember something other than his death, and they made her happy. She pulled an old military blanket out of the bin next to the chair and threw it on while Trace began talking again about some more of Jeremy’s funny escapades.

  “Then we left, but Jeremy didn’t tell us he had placed a remote camera. So when we get back to the ship, he turns on the video feed and there is the black-market dealer running around screaming and pulling on his hair, and as he opens every drawer in the room, they all start overflowing with foam. Jeremy had put frozen aerosol cans with foam sealant in them and then sliced the sides with a razor so when they thawed out, the foam started to expand and fill up the drawers! We were laughing so hard I could barely take off, because with every drawer he opened the foam kept growing and growing until you could barely see the guy, just the top of his head and his hands as he kept running back and forth screaming!”

  Trace wiped his eyes again and looked at Reilly. She was fast asleep in the leather chair, a smile on her face. It occurred to him that, sleeping, she looked like a different person, not the tough, gunslinging captain who had just recruited her own wing of ships to go fight in a war that seemed impossible to win. She looked peaceful, relaxed, and for the first time since he had met her, she looked happy. Trace finished off his coffee and crashed on the couch, pulling another blanket from the bin for himself. He kicked back and began to whittle a small piece of wood with his knife, pleased that he had made her smile, enjoying the moment and the high from the good memories.

  —————

  The Tether waited impatiently. She should have been back by now. The transmitter still showed as active, so she was alive, just delayed. The sun set and the desert grew dark. Finally, the implant returned.

  “Well?” the Tether demanded.

  “It’s her. She came out briefly to address the town. She is recruiting for the war, and from the talk, she has already gained enough support to form a wing of her own.”

  He turned, stalking across the bridge as he took in this new information. The team could easily sign up and stow aboard the ships as new recruits. Once they arrived at their end destination, they would be able to direct him to the rest of the ISU forces and perhaps even to Zain himself. Plus, having Campbell as a captive again would definitely please his employer.

  The Tether turned. “Did you see Joby Ty there?”

  The implant paused, remembering. “No, he wasn’t there, but the rest of the regular crew was. Chang, Jackson, and a new hire named Marek. I didn’t see the girl, either.”

  The Tether paced, frustrated. If only he could get Campbell
into the open. “They are worthless to me, not even worth the price of the round needed to take them out. What else?”

  “That was all. There were some invitations made to the crew for the Armistice Day celebration, but none of them confirmed that they would attend.”

  That gave him an idea. He turned, eyeing the implant.

  “You knew the crew. What would happen if one of them were injured or attacked?”

  “Captain Campbell and the others would come for them.” The implant confirmed his suspicion.

  He nodded once and entered some code into his handheld. “Then you know what to do.”

  “I do,” she agreed as she turned and walked out into the dark.

  The Tether smirked. Hopefully, if all went well, he would have Campbell in his grasp shortly. If it didn’t, well, then he would be short one implant, but since he had a whole team of implants, what difference would the loss of one really make? He began sending out code to the others, setting his plan in motion.

  —————

  It hit while she was showing Ty how to improve the firing rate of his battle rifle. The sudden, white-hot, blinding pain behind her right temple that let her know she had waited too long. Tiny put her hand to her head and winced, waving Ty off as he clumsily tried to get to his feet to reach where she stood.

  “It’s all right, I’m all right. Just have to take care of something. Be right back.”

  She ignored his concerned questions and wandered out of the cargo bay, up the catwalk towards medical. Once there, she pulled out her handset and opened a channel. He was already waiting.

  “Sir, I had intended to contact you earlier, but we had wounded and the ship was damaged.”

  “I don’t need excuses, I need answers,” Zain growled through the handheld. “Seth Jackson—where is he?”

  Tiny finished rubbing the rest of the pain out, looking at the Commander in surprise. “He’s not with us. He helped us escape from Alton and Welch at the space station. But he didn’t return with us. I thought you had sent him.”

  Tiny watched with interest as Zain worked to hide his anger and frustration. She also noted that he didn’t bother to hide the fact that he had known Welch would be there. Mock surprise would’ve been wasted on her anyway. He knew and he didn’t warn them. She tucked that knowledge away to analyze later.

  “Seth left on his own,” Zain said heatedly. “He stole a gunship and evaded the team I sent to recover him.”

  “I know. Captain Callum met us when we jumped out. Seth passed us his previous jump coordinates during the battle to get us out of range of the fleet. And to make sure that we had adequate backup.” Tiny gave the Commander an accusatory stare to which he didn’t respond.

  “How soon before you arrive at our new location?” Zain demanded.

  “We had to stop on Roen to refit. We leave tomorrow.”

  “So Callum is still with you?”

  Tiny paused, deciding how much to tell him. “Yes and we have recruited a few other ships from Roen to join us.”

  Zain looked interested. “How many did you get?”

  “Actually, Captain Campbell recruited them. It looks like enough for a wing, including two gunship squadrons, one for her and one for Captain Callum.”

  Irritation and…fear…Tiny realized both of these reactions were what she read briefly on Zain’s face as he hid them with a quick smile.

  “Good, good. We can use the help. You have a method to weed out any potential implants?”

  “I do, although if there are any here I haven’t picked them up yet. We’ll use it when we head out tomorrow. Captain Campbell has already briefed the other ship captains, and while they aren’t thrilled about it, they all agreed that they don’t want to have to deal with any saboteurs.”

  Zain nodded briskly. “I expect you to check in individually when you arrive at the beacon. If I can find Seth, I’ll need you to recover him and bring him back here. The doctors believe he may have suffered from faulty programming and require medical attention.”

  Faulty programming my ass! Tiny thought as Zain tried to brush off his illegal programming methods as bad code. She nodded stoically and then signed off, slipping the handheld into her pocket. The pain in her temple was gone now, but still she gently rubbed the spot. She walked back down to the bay where Ty sat messing with his rifle. It was obvious he was not really focused on the job, though, because he set the weapon down and looked at her expectantly.

  “So what the hell was that? Some kind of weird Gaiden migraine?”

  It bothered her sometimes when he made jokes about her being a Gaiden. Tiny knew he didn’t mean anything by it, but the words were still a reminder of the differences between them. She shook her head, irritated by the situation and by Zain. The sick feeling in the pit of her stomach was growing every time she talked to the Commander. If she did find Seth, she was pretty certain that bringing him back to Zain would be a low priority for both her and the crew. There may be ways that she could help him herself, without Zain’s interference. She turned her attention back to Ty, who was still waiting for her to respond.

  “It was a signal, part of Gaiden programming. If I don’t check in regularly enough or if Zain needs to reach me, he can send a code. It causes a significant jolt of pain just behind the right eye and serves as a reminder to contact him as well as a warning in case I decided to go rogue and operate against him.”

  “And what would happen then? If you went rogue, I mean?” Ty appeared calm, but his eyes were cold.

  “Zain could trigger a code that would either disable me or terminate me,” Tiny said simply.

  Ty took in what she had just said. “So Zain can kill you if you don’t do what he wants?”

  “It sounds worse than it is. We are afforded a certain measure of discretion and flexibility in our work, but yes, if I were to disobey a direct order from Zain or became a threat to the rightful government, he could control me or kill me.”

  “It doesn’t sound worse; it sounds exactly as it is!” Ty snarled. “So basically you’re no better than an implant!” He got up and paced angrily across the floor.

  Tiny watched his reaction with shock. The way Ty made it sound, it was as if she were a slave. True, the control code was a new addition to the training program following the revolution, but it was a safety measure, not one that was meant to be abused. His anger made sense, especially in light of what she had revealed about Zain’s programming of Seth, clearly a gross violation of the training regulations. A disturbing thought pushed its way to the front of her mind. What if Zain decided to use her own programming against her? She shrugged it off, convincing herself that it wasn’t possible, that the Commander was committed to doing the right thing. She almost bought it for half a minute before giving in to the possibility.

  “You may be right,” Tiny admitted. “Zain has already shown he is willing to take drastic measures to get ahead in the war, even if they are against regulation. But I don’t think he would attempt to do that with me.”

  “Why not? He’s willing to do it with his new trainees, so why not with the others as well?”

  “He won’t do it because he knows he made a mistake with Seth. He defied the rules of the code and removed the normal controls. He created a warrior who is a danger not just to him personally but to the government he is fighting to protect. Zain is no fool. He knows that if we win this war, there will be a reckoning, and he will be held accountable for what he has done.”

  Ty snorted. “By who? The government?”

  “By me,” Tiny said. “I should have paid more attention. He wouldn’t have been able to do what he has done to Seth. He will answer for that when the time comes. I owe it to Seth and I owe it to his father as well. Zain will answer for his actions. I swear it.”

  Ty looked at her face, grim with determination. She was serious and so was her oath. He nodded and reached out towards her.

  “I’ll help you,” he said as he gripped
her arm, “for Seth and Duv.”

  She looked at him wordlessly, then gripped his arm back in return. “We’ll do it together.”

  “Together,” Ty agreed.

  Tiny picked up the rifle and finished tweaking the lower receiver, then loaded some blank test rounds and handed the gun back to Ty. He flipped the gun to automatic and hit the trigger as the blanks sprayed, emptying the magazine in a matter of seconds. He smiled and looked back over his shoulder.

  “I like it! Let’s do the rest!”

  Tiny began pulling the battle rifles out as Ty contentedly started to dismantle each and ready it for the modification. He glanced over and watched Tiny work on the first gun as he continued opening the rest, her fingers flying over the mechanisms, making the necessary changes. She was amazing with weapons. She could modify almost anything to make it more lethal. Ty had found her to be an exceptional instructor as well. In a day, she had taught him several new techniques to get a weapon on target faster and more accurately, precious seconds that could save lives, his included. She had already saved his life once, but even if he hadn’t owed her a debt, his mind still would have been made up. If she was going to take on Zain, then he wasn’t going to let her do it alone. The Commander had picked the wrong crew to screw with.

  —————

  Duv sat with Marek and Chang at their usual table in the corner. To their left, Nado and the rest of his crew sat playing cards or watching the Armistice Day fights in the temporary ring set up where the dance floor normally existed. The atmosphere was festive with people cheering on their favorite fighters, drinking, and playing cards. Only one thing was missing: Holly still hadn’t shown up. Duv fidgeted in his seat while he thought about all the messages he had posted to her. Maybe it had been too much, he had been too open. Of course he never dreamt that the messages were actually reaching her. He felt like an idiot, pouring his soul out like that. He should have known better than to put what he was feeling into writing, let alone post it to his old blog for Seth to find. Why that boy had felt the need to send them on to Holly was beyond him. As far as he knew, Seth was fairly oblivious to their relationship, but then again, kids watched everything. Seth was sharp enough that he would have been able to figure out something was going on. Duv thought about his son, wondering where he was and what kind of mission Zain had sent him on. He hoped he was all right. Duv looked up as Chang continued to nudge him in the ribs.