Relaunch Mission

by Robyn Bachar

  With the enemy crew unconscious, alpha team secured them in a utility room and continued on. Maria unlocked doors and disabled alarms along the way through the quiet ship until the team reached its destination.

  “Opening the cargo bay door now,” Maria said. “Remember to tag everything this time. I don’t want another tractor incident.”

  “What happened?” Gabriel asked Lindana.

  “Ryder’s team dropped the ball. They forgot to radio tag a tractor, and we didn’t pick it up. It banged into our hull and left a few big dents. Mainly cosmetic damage, but Maria was furious.”

  Gabriel winced and nodded in sympathy. There was an art to shepherding equipment through zero gravity, especially doing it unnoticed by the crew of the ship you were raiding. Lindana preferred to leave as little damage and evidence as possible, though other privateer groups tended toward smash and grab.

  “Entering cargo bay n—oh, shit,” Ryder said.

  Lindana sat bolt upright in her seat. “Status...oh shit.”

  Ryder’s camera revealed the problem more vividly than words alone could. Instead of atmosphere generators and other colonial building equipment, the Novosibirsk’s cargo bay was filled with people. Corralled people, to be precise, clustered into groups and dressed in matching drab olive coveralls with scan bars and Cyrillic letters across their backs.

  “Stinks in here,” Diesel muttered.

  “Cap, I smell decomp,” Tomas said. He would know—as a medic he had a long history with the stench of death.

  “They’re political dissidents.” Gabriel leaned forward in his chair as he peered at the screens. “Prisoners being relocated to a gulag. Probably a mining colony.”

  Passengers—paying or otherwise—wouldn’t be treated like cattle. Officially no one dealt in slaves, but that didn’t mean it didn’t happen. In order to claim a territory, the governing entity had to establish a permanent population, and not everyone was thrilled about being pioneers on a new world. The first few generations of colonists suffered the most deaths and injuries; in the early days of space settlements a few colonies were wiped out completely, with only their equipment left to tell the stories of their demise. The Soviet Union was notorious for forcefully relocating entire communities to new colonies.

  Lindana blinked. Prisoners? There were families clustered together within the holding pens. Children. How could anyone treat a child that way? She licked her lips, her mouth gone dry. “How many are there?”

  “Let me get a better vantage point.” Ryder climbed atop a crate and scanned the crowd. Lindana used the Mombasa’s computer to analyze the video and get an accurate head count.

  “One hundred and forty nine,” she announced once the computer spit the number out. “Tomas?”

  His camera tilted as he pondered his answer. “Seven days. Eight if they don’t like their kids very much.”

  “Jiang?”

  “We can get to New Nairobi in four with our current fuel reserves. Provided we don’t blow another power coupling,” Jiang said.

  “Maria? I don’t suppose the Novosibirsk has power couplings compatible with Mama Mo?”

  “Nope. Soviet tech doesn’t play nice with Alliance designs, especially military models,” Maria said.

  “Noted.” Lindana sighed. Things were never that simple.

  “The fuel cells might be compatible,” Maria said, “or at least we could drain them and use the fuel itself. Not sure we have that kind of time if we’re continuing to fly under the radar. Besides, you can’t trust the Russians. Damn ship probably runs on vodka and cigarettes.”

  “Right. Let’s keep this quick. Ryder, you’re in charge of the logistics of the transfer.”

  “Aye, Captain. I’m going to need to tap Bravo and Charlie teams for help.”

  “Do it.”

  “Chief Kalani, I need you to locate a specific prisoner,” Gabriel said. Silence reigned over the comm as everyone gaped at the comment.

  “How...?” Lindana began, then shook her head. First things first. “Okay. Who?”

  “Red Raiya.”

  Lindana scoffed. “Raiya died three months ago.”

  “No, she was captured while attempting to defect,” Gabriel said.

  Lindana slapped the mute on the comm as her temper boiled over. “How the hell do you know that? Did you know there were prisoners on this ship?”

  “It was a possibility,” Gabriel admitted. “There were several ships she could have been on. Other Alliance forces are investigating those ships as we speak.”

  She rose and glared at him. “I don’t fucking care about other Alliance ships, I care about my ship. If you had additional intel—any intel—you should have shared it. You sent my people in blind. I ought to throw your ass in the brig.”

  “I’m fairly certain you don’t have a brig.” Gabriel rose to face her, seeming immune to her temper. Lindana growled and he caught her arm as she drew back to slap him. “I wasn’t authorized to tell you because this information is classified and extremely sensitive. If it leaked—”

  “My ship doesn’t leak.”

  “Yes, it does,” he snapped back. “I pulled a transmitter out of it the first day I got here.”

  “Bullshit.” A wave of numb cold replaced the heat of her fury. A traitor? Aboard the Mombasa? “You’re lying. This is some sort of intel trick.”

  “I’m telling the truth. I have the transmitter in my quarters if you want to see it yourself. Think, Lindy. Did you really believe that bad luck ruined those missions? Someone betrayed you. Your officers might be trustworthy, but are the rest of your crew? Do you know all of their histories? Who could be swayed by a fat bribe? Who could be blackmailed? Even if the bug was planted by a foreign agent while the ship was docked, there’s always a possibility that your computers have been compromised. All it takes is one worm in the system and the C3 or the Soviets would know our mission. They have spies everywhere.”

  “Then you should have told me. Me!” Her hands flexed as she fought the urge to deck him, or strangle him. “I could have taken precautions to protect my crew. We were expecting atmo generators, so they’re not carrying firearms. If I’d known there might be enemy combatants instead I could have ordered them to bring backup weapons. You’d better pray that nothing goes wrong, because if any of my people are harmed on this mission it will be your damn fault.”

  “They’re my people too, Captain.”

  “No. You’re done here. After this mission I’m dropping your ass at the nearest Alliance station. I don’t care if they pull our marque. I’d rather be a pirate than put up with this shit.”

  “You’re firing me?” Gabriel gaped at her. “I was following orders.”

  “Fuck your orders!”

  “Captain?” Maria interrupted over the comm. “I think I know where Raiya is.”

  Lindana took a deep, steadying breath and unmuted her microphone. “Go ahead, Watson.”

  “I scanned the Novosibirsk’s recent logs and there’s mention of a high-priority prisoner in a different area of the ship—a detention area. Apparently they’ve been regularly transporting prisoners since their retrofit. Do you want to divert Bravo or Charlie team?”

  “No,” Lindana said. Gabriel made a sound of protest and Lindana held up a silencing hand. “Ryder’s in charge of the personnel transfer. Lieutenant Steele and I are going to find Raiya. If she’s there. Rescuing a dead woman sounds like a wild goose chase to me.”

  “Got it, Captain,” Maria said.

  “Jiang, you have command of the Mombasa.” Lindana glared at Gabriel. “You’re right. We don’t have a brig. But if we did, I’d be dragging your ass to it right now. Lucky for you we’re shorthanded, so this is your one chance to prove to me that I shouldn’t ship you back to the Alliance in a damn express cargo box. Gear up and meet me at the a
irlock. Bring a gun.”

  “Aye, Captain.”

  Chapter Six

  Gabriel punched the door of his weapons locker and pain flashed up his arm.

  Idiot. He should have told her. He should have told her the moment after the tea touched his tongue and triggered his mission briefing. He should have told her the moment after he stepped on board and became an official member of her crew. He should have told her the moment after he received confirmation that there was a mole aboard the Mombasa. After he cut the transmitter out of the ship’s innards and confirmed that someone had been sending critical mission information to the Soviets. That there was a traitor in their midst—but instead he had betrayed her. Again.

  Idiot!

  Gabriel allowed himself one more punch, the jarring impact hard enough to scrape his knuckles. The second sharp stab of pain focused him and turned his frustration into purpose. He yanked the weapons locker open and geared himself for the mission ahead.

  Why didn’t you tell her?

  The question—the self-doubt—wormed through his thoughts as he fell into the familiar pattern of donning the pieces of his set of light armor. He shouldn’t need heavy armor for a mission like this, and the light armor would do against blades and simple firearms. The crew members of the Novosibirsk weren’t likely to be wielding the sorts of heavy weaponry that necessitated wearing the clunky, bulky set. They crewed a cargo transport—though admittedly the prisoners in the ship’s hold were a complete surprise. Had that information slipped past Command? Or had they simply not thought it important enough to include? What secret could Raiya be hiding that was more important than mentioning the existence of several dozen political prisoners? Command had already made it clear that Raiya was expendable. Were they all expendable in the eyes of the Alliance?

  Unanswered questions churned in his gut as he finished with the armor and strapped on his weapons, followed by another round of self-deprecation.

  He should have trusted Lindy, orders be damned, but he hadn’t. In the end, he always followed orders. It was what had driven him to join the Alliance navy in the first place. He’d never wanted to be a military man, but his father had insisted. In fact, Father had insisted so strongly that he had threatened to disinherit Gabriel if he disobeyed.

  Gabriel barked a bitter laugh that echoed dully in the empty armory. Disinherit, indeed. Gabriel had abandoned the land and title when he turned his back on the newly formed Core Colony Collective and remained loyal to the Alliance.

  Fat lot of good that had done him and his fellow core colonist agents, like Smythe. The Alliance had turned on them in the end; the Alliance, or someone within the Intelligence ranks. Gabriel might never know. He squared his shoulders, turned on his heel and marched out of the room. His boots rapped a sharp staccato tune as he hurried to the ship’s main airlock. He hadn’t wanted to be a military man at first, but once at the Academy he had thrown himself into the life, as was his way. If Gabriel Steele was going to do something, by God he was going to do it right. Be the best—first in his class, always with the highest honors and glowing praise.

  He doubted that his conduct on this mission was going to win him any honors or praise, despite his pigheaded adherence to mission parameters. He’d never been dismissed from an assignment before...

  Why? Each step seemed to echo the question back at him, as though even the deck of the ship considered him a traitor unworthy to tread upon it.

  Perhaps he had always followed orders out of some stoic sense of duty bred into his very bones. That doing what one was told was the responsible thing to do—the right thing to do, for God and country—and it implied some sense of order and justice.

  Gabriel had long ago lost count of the number of times he doubted his orders, had silently questioned why a seemingly innocent person was targeted for elimination. He had always trusted that Command knew best. That there was some higher purpose guiding his orders, and ultimately he was doing the right thing.

  Lying to Lindy could not possibly have been the right thing, and yet he had done it anyway. Now Gabriel was going to pay the price, and pray that somehow he could convince her to forgive him.

  * * *

  Lindana donned her gear in record time, which was impressive considering she hadn’t done it in ages and was distracted by the thoughts buzzing through her head. Raiya was alive? And held prisoner somewhere aboard the Novosibirsk? Bullshit. But, if it was true, what did this mean? Did it even mean anything? Lindana and Raiya had been...well, lovers wasn’t the right word. Raiya had once laughingly referred to their relationship as “cunnilingus comrades.” Enemies on the battlefield, but friends in bed. And now Lindana was on the way to rescue Red Raiya with Lieutenant Gabriel Hotpants in tow.

  This mission was a disaster.

  Gabriel somehow managed to arrive at the airlock first, and worse still was how distractingly dashing the lying bastard looked. He’d tied his hair back for the occasion, likely to contain it beneath his armor, but it added to his ensemble. Gabriel looked like a gentleman pirate. Lindana looked like a soldier about to go to war.

  “I give an order, you follow it. Period. Understood?” she asked.

  “Aye, Captain.”

  Lindana donned her helmet and activated her comm.

  “Your feed is live, Captain,” Jiang said.

  “Who’s flying the ship?” Lindana asked as the airlock cycled.

  “No one while we’re docked,” Jiang said, her tone amused. “Kala is in the driver’s seat.”

  “Good to know.” Lindana pulled her energy sidearm and set it to stun. “Shoot to stun or wound, not to kill. These people are just here for the paycheck. No one needs to die today.”

  “Aye, Captain,” Gabriel repeated.

  She switched her channel from team communication, connecting her to a private link with Gabriel. “Have you been in combat recently?”

  “Not within the past few weeks. I was severely injured during my last mission and was recovering until I received this assignment.”

  Weeks? What the hell had he been doing that he saw combat just a few weeks ago? Lindana squared her shoulders. “You’ll be fine. I’ve got your six.”

  “Thank you, Lindy,” he said softly.

  “This doesn’t mean I trust you,” she reminded him. “Or that you’re not fired. You have a hell of a lot of explaining to do, and if I hear the word classified out of you again I will shoot you. And Allah help you if you’re hiding anything else about this mission because I will tan your sorry hide myself.”

  “Oh? Does that mean you’re into spanking now?”

  Lindana’s stomach fluttered and she swallowed a frustrated growl. “Don’t tempt me, pretty boy. I know how you boarding school Brits enjoy being punished when you’re naughty.”

  Gabriel chuckled, and Lindana switched back to the general channel. “We’re entering the Novosibirsk now. Ryder, I want running progress updates.”

  “Got it, Cap,” Ryder said. “First group of guests is incoming to the airlock now. ETA in two minutes.”

  Lindana raised her pistol and moved out. Her heads-up display loaded a ship schematic thanks to Maria, who was also live tracking the Novosibirsk’s personnel via their ear cuffs, each crew member a red blip on the map. Gabriel and Lindana were headed away from their incoming guests, and she hurried to get out of sight to avoid scaring any of the children. She looked pretty damn intimidating in her combat gear.

  They moved without incident through the deck and paused at a lift. “I’m giving you elevator access now, Captain,” Maria said. “Be advised there are active guards outside the lift on the level you need to access.”

  “Acknowledged, Chief.” Lindana looked to Gabriel and he nodded, his rifle at the ready. Of course he had a fancier weapon, an expensive piece of equipment that fired energy or physical projectiles, depending o
n the setting. It even had the option to launch grenades, though she hoped he wasn’t carrying any. Grenades, even stun grenades, were better suited to ground combat. Too many things could go wrong with a grenade detonating on a spaceship.

  The elevator doors shut, and a timer began counting down in the corner of her HUD. Thirty seconds. Lindana braced and breathed evenly—twenty seconds. She planted her feet and steadied her grip to fight the rush of adrenaline coursing through her veins. Ten seconds. Nine, eight, seven...then the lift lurched around them as metal screeched and an explosion rattled her teeth. The lift froze and plunged into darkness, then harsh, yellow emergency lighting kicked on as alarms began to wail.

  “Status report!” Lindana barked. Static answered her as the live feed on her HUD blinked out.

  Another explosion shook the lift, and Lindana stumbled into Gabriel. She holstered her weapon before she accidentally shot something, and he did the same.

  “—repeat, the Novosibirsk is under attack,” Jiang said.

  “Acknowledged. Who’s attacking?” Lindana asked.

  “It’s the Blackjack,” Jiang said. “Orders?”

  Lindana cursed. The Mombasa had a long, angry history with the Blackjack. The Blackjack was an independent pirate ship—loyal to none, out to attack any target that presented itself as long as the money was good. Their captain, Kowalczyk, was a pure sociopath, and Lindana would love nothing more than to see him and the Blackjack blown out of the sky.

  “Detach now,” Lindana ordered. “Hit him hard, Chen.”

  “Aye, Captain. See you on the other side.”

  The comm sputtered and died, and Lindana raised her helmet’s visor as Gabriel did the same. “He’s got the jammers up. Kowalczyk likes to jam all communications, though it keeps him blind as well as us. Might be able to use that later. Can you reach the overhead emergency access?”

  “I think so. And then?” Gabriel slung his rifle over his back and stretched for the access panel. He wrenched a lever sideways and the door fell open.

  “We take the ship and send Kowalczyk packing.”