Imperial Hilt (Imperial War Saga Book 2)

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Imperial Hilt (Imperial War Saga Book 2) Page 4

by Celinda Labrousse


  “Beep beep!” the droid said. At the same time the medic said, “It means, I don’t know. Her pulse is gone, she is completely unresponsive, and if it wasn’t for the fact that I’m reading electro magnetic signatures in her brain I’d say she was dead.”

  Miranda tried to scream at that.

  “Listen to the droid, you stupid medic,” she tried to scream back. “He’s telling you I’m not dead!” But her lips and vocal cords wouldn’t respond. She couldn’t open her eyes or move her hand to rub her face. The lack of movement scared her.

  Pain radiated down her spine and out to her unresponsive limbs.

  If she was dead, she wouldn’t be in this much agony. Miranda might not have known a lot about death given that it had only happened around her, not to her before, but she was more than certain that this wasn’t it.

  What she was feeling was like being electro shocked into consciousness by your alarm clock. It wasn’t that different from how her body felt every time she woke up in the morning here at BASIC.

  “She looks in pain,” the voice that couldn’t be Eric’s said.

  “I’m doing all I can,” said the medic.

  “Do more.” There was a long pause. Miranda tried to imagine what she’d be seeing if she could open her eyes. At least two men leaning over her. One the medic from earlier, the other her Ironside. Both with mirrored worried expressions on their faces. Eric’s because he was concerned for her. The medic’s because he was concerned for what Eric would do to him if anything happened to her. She chuckled, the sound breaking through the kaleidoscope in her head.

  “I have a pulse,” the medic said. There was another long pause where Miranda heard nothing. The colors had settled down to shadows; two mountains in a rising sun.

  Miranda took a long breath in. She felt her lungs expand with it. The sound of air going in and coming back out in a regular rhythm made her want to smile. Her lips didn’t move, but the sentiment was there.

  “She’s breathing,” Couldn’t Be Eric said. She heard an audible sigh of relief.

  “I’m going to administer some Difonomien,” the medic said.

  “English, Doc,”

  “I’m a PA, not a doctor,” the medic said. “Never mind. If you can hear us, Ms. Farmer, I’m going to give you some drugs to help stabilize you. This might hurt.”

  She felt another prick in her arm, and this time she let the meds take her under.

  “Rise and shine,” came Eric’s voice. Miranda opened her eyes. The world around her was gray, washed out by the morning sun, but her eyelids opened. That’s what mattered.

  A dented helmet stood above her.

  “It’s a miracle,” she said. The sun was up before her.

  “That they let you sleep in?” Eric’s laugh was music to her ears. Had she been craving it this entire time? That was weird.

  “You can thank me later,” he said. Miranda yawned, something she never did around other soldiers since coming here.

  “Come on,” he said. “The big dogs are here and they want to see you.” Miranda glanced over her shoulder at Farmer. He was racked out on a bunk to her right. The dead man’s bunk.

  “When we want him we’ll ask,” Eric said, pulling her towards the double doors. Miranda let her eyes ask the question for her.

  “Relax, You two aren’t leaving the building, but interrogations are done alone,” he said. Miranda swallowed before nodding. She followed him out of the room. Eric was an Ironside. He’d gone through BASIC, just like her. He’d know the battle buddy policy. Understand her concern, and all that.

  The double doors led to a long hallway with more doors on either side. It looked like it had been a series of individual patient rooms at one time. Back when the facility had maintained a hospital wing. Now they were mostly storage for different meds and supplies. Miranda could see the shelves through the open glass windows.

  “Was he found in one of these?” she asked out loud, more to herself than at Eric.

  “In here.” He opened one of the doors. Another Ironside sat at a table, a single chair directly across from him. It reminded her of the interrogation room she’d met the crazy droid in. Had it only been three cycles ago? It felt like much longer. Training like this did that to a person. Miranda couldn’t suppress the chill that went down her spine at the memory.

  “Take a seat,” the Ironside said. Another voice she recognized: Adam. She stopped the smile forming on her face. Her friends were here. But why?

  Miranda stepped into the room. Eric closed the door behind her, sealing the three of them inside. She heard it click shut as she took her seat. At least this room had a window. The underground bunker where she’d met with the droid was solid rock. This room was wood, with nice cheery bunny curtains facing out on the rising suns. The world glistened outside the window as steam rolled off it in waves.

  “Let's get down to business,” the Ironside said. He had his helmet on so his voice was uniform and clipped. The helmets disguised their voices. Still, she’d heard that voice ask her for help in a life and death situation, in just that helmet. Maybe no one else recognized him, but Miranda knew Prince Adamantium when she saw him, Ironside uniform or not.

  “Yes, let's,” she said, swallowing hard.

  Chapter 6

  She looked around again. Oscar was waiting in the room. Fox looked to be chatting with the little droid, but Miranda knew better. Fox was talented in a lot of things, but Droid was not one of them. Eric clicked his fingers in front of her face to get her attention.

  “Miranda,” he said when that didn’t work, “Empire to Miranda, are you with us?” She thought that an odd statement, given that she’d almost just died and now she was sitting in an interrogation room with men she considered her friends, but with no clue as to why they were there.

  “I told you to stay alive,” Eric chided her. “We get called in on a murder investigation and what’s the first thing we find? You passed out dead in a hospital unit!”

  “I only had a sunburn,” she said, crossing her arms.

  “Killed by a sunburn, that would be a new one,” Eric said. His brown eyes danced with mischief. Heat flushed up Miranda’s cheeks.

  “A new what?” Miranda asked, crossing her arms. She was going to fight it. He was Eric. The super hot, unattainable Ironside who she owed her life to. But he owed his life to her, too. Maybe that made them even.

  “A new way to die,” he said, staring her down. He was mad at her. She could read it in his eyes, but why? What did he have to be mad at her about? Eric broke his own stare, waving her off.

  “Well,” Miranda started to say. It wasn’t like it was her fault this planet was an armpit between two suns. Nor was it her fault that she was born to fair skinned parents on a fair skinned planet. Maybe if she’d been born of Sentary 14, things would have been different. Blue skin probably didn’t burn, but Miranda was a third generation farmer’s daughter from the M system, so no z-radiation defusing atmospheres for her.

  “Maybe I had a bad reaction to the sunburn meds?” she said. Oscar beeped encouraging sayings at her. She patted his head while keeping her focus on the Ironsides.

  “Yes, I think they are saying that because they care, too,” she beeped back at him.

  All three Ironsides moved their heads to look at her. Fox in his silvery white helmet, Adam and Eric burning her with their eyes. The twin factor was creeping her out. Sure, Adam’s hair was a tad longer than Eric’s. Eric’s eyes were a slightly darker shade of brown. Okay, maybe not. Everything about them was the same, from their hair all the way down to their toes. Same six-foot-plus height. Same masculine jaw. Even the same kink in their nose. It was like one was the clone of the other.

  Miranda scratched at her peeling shoulder skin. This was feeling much less like a reunion and more of an interrogation with every passing minute. It’s not that she minded all that much. They could be preparing to have her barred from service and tried for murder and it still would have been nice to see them. But they as
ked her the same questions over and over, with little variation. Was she given anything besides the salve? Who was in the med bay with her? Did she overhear anything while she was there?

  “So what you are saying is that you and your battle buddy weren’t together,” Eric confirmed for the third time, his eyebrow arching ever so slightly. Miranda’s eyes dropped to Oscar. He’d remained quiet since the questioning started, which was not like him at all.

  “Yes,” she said. She stopped and thought about her next question. “Where have they been stashing you these last few cycles?” She knew he couldn’t tell her, but he looked tired. Recycled air and space travel tired.

  “Training,” Adam said, scratching his head. His helmet was off. It sat on the edge of the one table in the room. Miranda rolled her eyes and crossed her arms.

  “That’s not an answer,” she said. He shrugged. Which was hard in the full battle armor he was in. The white gleamed in the glare of the sunlight. There was a window up and to the left, big enough to light the room, but high enough only a desperate person would try climbing out of it. All the buildings on base were one story, so they kept the windows high in closets and bathrooms for safety.

  “Close to here,” Eric added. He’d been pacing the floor. The heels of his white boots clicked as he went back and forth.

  “Why?” she really wanted to know. It felt like they were waiting on her, but that couldn’t be right. Why would the best trained Ironside team in the known galaxies be waiting for her to graduate BASIC? It made no sense, which was why she pressed so hard.

  “We were waiting,” Adam said. “Why did your battle buddy leave?” It was Miranda’s turn to shrug.

  “He told the nurse he needed to pee. Since I was with the nurse, I mean medic, and he had permission. I think we both thought it would be okay,” she said. Miranda drummed her fingers on the table. The hardwood under her fingers provided a thoughtful rhythm surface.

  “Waiting for orders?” Miranda asked.

  “Something like that,” Adam said. “You have to see how this looks.”

  “Tell me how it looks,” she said. The walls were turning a nice shade of pink. It would fade to yellow as the second sun finished rising, but it made everything feel cozy. Eric cleared his throat, turned, and faced Miranda from where he’d been pacing.

  “It looks like you two were in on this together,” Eric said.

  “But how?”

  “It could be anyone, but your battle buddy was the one to find him,” Eric started to say.

  “But I passed out dead!” Miranda said. She couldn’t hide the irritation from her voice.

  “After the fact,” Eric pointed to the table.

  “The needle that did the job was found in your med bed,” he said. “ and Farmer and you were the only ones near it after he found the body.”

  “You might have done it to yourself to throw off suspension,” Adam finished for him.

  “So you think I did it,” Miranda said, looking from one to the other. They looked almost like twins at this distance. She couldn’t remember ever seeing them in the same room with their helmets off. Not since that day.

  “No, that’s what they are going to say when they charge you,” Eric said. Miranda narrowed her eyes.

  “We are here to prove you are innocent,” Adam clarified. Eric and Adam shared a look. Miranda didn’t know what it meant. She slumped back in her chair, feeling lost.

  “You’re too valuable to get buried in the system,” Eric said.

  “So what’s the plan?” she said, crossing her arms. A knock sounded on the door. A medic with bright orange hair stuck his head inside.

  “Sorry to interrupt, but their Drill Sergeant is here,” he said. Miranda glanced at his name tag. Rising. Interesting. She’d tried to remember it. The door was yanked open behind him and Sergeant Dan pushed medic Rising to the side.

  “Who gave you permission to hold my recruit this long?” she demanded. Miranda turned towards her friends. Both of their helmets were back on. They looked every inch the Imperial Ironsides they were.

  Chapter 7

  All three Ironsides turned their masks on the intruder.

  “Who are you to interpret a formal interrogation?” Eric said. Miranda tried to sit still. Her head down, she studied the black and white tiles of the floor. They had small divots and dents in them. It was hard for her to tell if it was intentional to hide scratches, or the result of years of use.

  She felt an arm around her shoulder.

  “She is my charge,” Sergeant Dan said right into her ear. She wanted to rub the offended ear, but she stopped herself. The Sergeant stood her up and steered her to the door.

  “If you have any more questions for my recruits, you can see them in the barracks after 1800.” The door slammed behind them. A dull pain from her healing sunburn radiated from where Sergeant Dan guided her by the shoulders.

  “You have rifle training today, Recruit,” Sergeant Dan said. “You, too, Recruit Farmer.” Sergeant Dan let go of Miranda’s shoulders. A sigh of relief escaped her lips.

  “I said move!” Sergeant Dan shouted. The two Farmers ran, Recruit Farmer a few feet ahead of Miranda. She pushed harder, knowing that if she was the one to get there last she would be first on the line. Oscar beeped his approval at the change of pace and rolled out ahead of him.

  “This, recruits, is the RUM 28. It is your first, your last, and sometimes your only line of defense!” Drill Sergeant Dan barked at the line of assembled troops. Miranda stood there facing forward, even when proper etiquette told her to follow the Drill Sergeant as she talked. The problem with that being Sergeant Dan was marching from one corner of the line to the other. Even with her enhanced peripheral vision, Miranda couldn’t track her with just her eyes.

  “But if you move your neck it’s pushups,” she reminded herself.

  “Did I hear you say something, Recruit Farmer?” Drill Sergeant Dan had stopped pacing.

  “No, Drill Sergeant!” came the response from all seven Farmers in the squad. The sergeant gave a glaring look down the line.

  “Like I was saying, this is your first, your last, and sometimes your only defense from all the crazy out there in the universe. Like your hard light holos, you will treat it better than your own babies. You will take care of it before you take care of yourself. It is your new best friend. It will always be on your person . No exceptions.”

  She gave the squad a once over, her eyes missing nothing.

  “Now, in case you struggle with basic mathematics,” Drill Sergeant Dan continued, “this is the second weapon you have been issued.” She stopped pacing again. “When your name is called, step forward and receive your RUM 28.”

  “Halen!” Sergeant Striker called.

  Miranda blinked. They were using first names. For the first time since she’d arrived here, she was hearing the first names of her fellows.

  “Dylan!” With every name, one recruit stepped forward and received a RUM. Not a small blaster, like was common on ships or in the Republic. No; these were full-on automatic rifles, equipped with blaster barrels, laser bayonets, and a whole bunch of charge power. These were weapons of war, meant to outlast an intergalactic meltdown.

  “Miranda,” she called.

  Miranda came forward to get hers. She stumbled back on her heels under the weight of it. This was no holo. Miranda stepped back into formation.

  “I see that hand, Recruit,” Sergeant Dan said.

  A voice from behind her asked, “What about our hard lights?”

  “You will keep both on you at all times. A soldier without his rifle is like a wool less sheep in winter. Holo or real, these are your weapons. Keep them in good shape.”

  “Sir, yes sir.”

  “Now line up.” Everyone fell into place.

  Miranda’s view of the action was blocked by the tall shoulders in front of her. He’d shift, then she’d be able to see. The line moved forward quickly.

  “Your turn, Farmer.” Miranda watched as
Farmer and Sleepy Farmer went at it. They each stood on opposite ends of a platform, striking at each other with their rifles, holo bayonets fixed.

  It was a game of King of the Rock. The person to hold the defending position the longest “won.” If being battered into the ground by multiple opponents counted as winning. Miranda took a deep breath. Farmer had lost to Sleepy Farmer.

  “That’s your third kill, Farmer,” Sergeant Dan said. “Keep it up.”

  “Yes, Drill Sergeant!”

  “Farmer, you’re up.” Miranda stepped up onto the raised platform, unsure of what she should be doing.

  “Lift that barrel!” Sergeant Dan yelled. Miranda lifted the weapon.

  “Three, two, one, CHARGE!” Sleepy Farmer ran forward, closing in on Miranda. Realizing too late that she needed to match his intensity, she threw herself at him. Their RUM 28s clanged together, jolting her awake. Sleepy Farmer went for an upper jab. Miranda blocked. The impact of the crash reverberated into her bones. The weapon was heavy, making it hard to maneuver. They were pressed up against each other; unable to strike, but also unable to counter. Sleepy pulled back. The sudden loss of force sent Miranda off balance and she fell forward onto Sleepy’s outstretched blade.

  “Dead!” Sergeant Dan yelled. Miranda slid off the platform to the waiting ground.

  “That hesitation killed you,” Sergeant Dan whispered. It was the first soft spoken words Miranda had ever heard come out of the sergeant’s mouth. She didn’t even know the woman was capable of making sounds that low.

  “Next time, don’t hesitate.” Miranda nodded and got back in line to go again.

  After morning drills they marched the platoon down to the classrooms.

  “Because Recruit Farmer and Recruit Farmer have missed out on the last two days of instruction, due to an incident at the med bay, who would like to catch them up to speed?” Sergeant Dan scanned the room for volunteers. No one responded.

 

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