by Lyn Gala
Da’shay’s fingers slipped under the hem of his shirt and traced lines against the small of his back. “No white where genta-girl could just think,” Da’shay said in a whisper. Da’shay’s weight shifted and she lay down on his back, her hair cascading over his shoulder and tickling his neck. “So long lost. Now I found white to think and brown to lay down in.” She whispered the words in his ear, her breath tickling over his skin.
Zabeth ignored Da’shay. “If Divy had asked the guys who built this place to secretly build him a castle in the center of the fucking planet, they would have, so a hidden base off a slot valley wasn’t a problem. These days, he’s about the only arms dealer left because when the cati showed up here, the government started cleaning out the marauders and independent contractors.”
“And everyone knows about this?” Ramsay demanded.
She shrugged. “A few of us do. Mostly the government has been driving people out…either that or arresting and slaving them. It’s starting to feel a little too much like Corps space with all the new rules around this place.”
“Trust me, this is nothing like Corps space where slaving would never be allowed,” Ramsay said. Zabeth didn’t answer, but she did make a real disgusted noise.
“I got two new ones,” Tom said. They all went about their jobs without any sort of communication. From how much they were lifting, Tom guessed they were stronger than humans, but not nearly as strong as genta. He hoped they were easier to kill than genta. Otherwise, this was going to be a short fight, and they were going to be on the wrong end of it.
“Have others shot at them?” Da’shay asked.
Zabeth answered, “There was a really big shoot out when they first showed up to take the port from the marauders, nothing since.”
“No ant trails to follow.” Da’shay’s voice was soft. “Ignore cati until they pick up a gun. Kill then,” Da’shay said, pushing herself up so only her palm rested against Tom’s back. “Try to make run, shoot near feet, break things.” She laid the lobber near him. “Except that one.” Da’shay pointed toward a cati that stood out in a long red shirt. He was slowly walking the dock, the only cati who didn’t seem to be actually doing anything, which made Tom suspect he was an officer. “Kill him,” Da’shay ordered.
“You want Tom to take on forty-three people? That ain’t happening,” Ramsay said firmly. “We’re not ever for sure these are enemies.”
“You want to try to talk to them?” Tom asked sweetly. He didn’t even have to look to know that Ramsay was giving him a real unhappy glare.
“I’ll agree they’re most likely not friendly.”
“War horses tripped on invisible strings, archers unseen in the bushes rise up to take out the army’s standard bearer,” Da’shay said, her voice grand like one of those guys that talked over the historical vid images.
“That don’t need too much translating.” Tom targeted the cati officer. If Da’shay believed that these people would pose a risk to any Command ships coming in, he’d damn well end it right now.
“Well, shit.” Ramsay sounded tired. “I agree that we’ve got to warn Command that they’ve got alien tech waiting for them, I’ll give you that one. But the best way to warn them isn’t attacking that dock by ourselves. One sharp shooter is—”
“Human colors. Human colors staining a world not human. You don’t lead,” Da’shay cut him off.
“Captain, Da’shay’s right,” Tom said firmly. “She knows what these things are. If she says I can take them, then I can. If she says that I need to attack, then I will. If she says it’s best to panic them, I can fucking do that. You’re the one who told me she was a Command officer and I reckon that means she knows what Command is capable of and what these guys are likely to do. I sure ain’t going to sit back and then listen to reports of these cati ships cutting through the Command fleet if it is going to be war. So, if you’re going to stick around, you hand me loaded weapons, but you don’t go having this fight about who’s boss again. Damn. I thought I was a stubborn bastard, but I’ve got nothing on you.”
“Tom, you don’t understand what you’re facing,” Ramsay told him in a tone of voice that Tom had stopped taking from his mother twenty years ago. “I’ve fought the casslit.”
“And those ain’t casslit,” Tom pointed out. The faces were too human, the joints of their bodies were different. Casslit hands and bodies were always in motion, a dance that communicated to their group when they weren’t in physical contact to share information. These cati weren’t doing that. From a distance one might even pass for human. A mighty sickly and scrawny human with overlong limbs, but they didn’t move alien the way meaiai and casslit did.
“Fine.” Ramsay’s voice was whisper quiet, but he still managed to sound as if he was yelling the word. “Do you mind if I ask what the plan is?”
“Take that ship,” Da’shay pointed to the middle of the dock where a long, arrow-shaped ship had her nose pointed at the holographic cave mouth and her tail to a launch cradle. It was twice as large as any other ship in the dock and five times the size of the Kratos.
“We’re… What?” Ramsay sounded as if he couldn’t get his breath.
“How many of these cati are we going to find inside?” Tom asked.
“Don’t know.”
“Will the pulse gun work?” Tom asked. “I don’t like the thought of stray bullets inside a ship when I don’t know where the critical parts are.”
“Yep. Pain blinds.”
“Then I figure we just need to fight our way in a door and we’ll be fine. Problem is getting past the hatch without having to shoot our way in. I assume you want her space-worthy so we can fly out?” Tom asked.
“Yep,” Da’shay agreed.
“This is crazy.” Ramsay sighed. “And you’re talking to her like crazy makes sense. If you take the ship, where are you going to fly it?”
“New ant trails,” Da’shay said cheerfully. When Tom glanced over his shoulder, Ramsay looked mighty frustrated.
“Captain, she’s been right so far,” Tom pointed out. “Actually, you got us thrown in prison and scheduled for enslavement and every step of the way she’s been trying to get us out of that mess.”
“So, this is my fault?” Ramsay gave Tom a cold glare.
“Yep,” Tom agreed.
Ramsay sagged. It wasn’t often that Ramsay looked old, but he did for that moment. “I’m going to hate myself for this tomorrow.” He scrubbed a hand over his face. “Do the cati pay any attention to transmissions?” Ramsay asked. Da’shay just gazed at him.
Zabeth shrugged. “Not that I’ve noticed, but if you’re going to start shooting, can you give me time to get clear first?”
“Actually, could you wait near the hidden entrance and show two more people down here?” Ramsay asked. Tom pushed himself up on one elbow and looked at the captain.
Ramsay wasn’t looking all that happy. “I’m not leaving those two behind to deal with whatever mess we’re about to make,” he said, his lips thin and his eyes narrowed with frustration. “They can watch, and if we manage to get that ship of yours, they can come along for the ride.” Ramsay pulled out his handheld and hit a button. “Hey guys, come take a lookie-loo,” he said, using the code for a full evacuation. Tom figured Becca was already grabbing the quantum navigator relays and her Sammy the seal stuffed toy. “We have a friend to introduce you to in the public tunnels. Just look for my signal.” Ramsay turned the unit off without waiting for an answer. Tom felt a pang at the thought of the good little ship sitting there abandoned in enemy territory.
Ramsay took his handheld off and offered it to Zabeth. “Show them down here and Da’shay will make sure your boss knows you really helped us.”
She hesitated. Tom wasn’t sure the captain should trust her, but he figured Da’shay wasn’t getting riled, so he settled back down and watched the dock. “I’ll point them in the right direction,” Zabeth agreed. “Good luck.” There was silence for a good long time after that.
“We’re about to die down there,” Ramsay pointed out.
“Not if I can help it,” Tom said. Concentrating on the dock, he searched every corner for flammables, breakables and exits. If Da’shay wanted panic instead of bodies on the ground, he was going to make sure every bullet made an impression. He’d have these cati bastards running in circles.
Da’shay started to hum, her fingers tracing some pattern on the back of his thigh, and Tom lay for long minutes. Every once in a while he’d notice Ramsay pacing at the back of the ledge, but this was where Tom felt right, lying still and studying the world from a distance. Tom’s brothers never understood the pleasure he’d take from lying stomach down on a ridge for hours as he tracked the path of game to the waterhole. The killing was proof that he’d done his job right, evidence of his skill at putting a bullet where he wanted, but the joy was watching the world through the scope of a rifle until everything just made sense.
“Soft white, making the world fade,” Da’shay whispered. She was sitting on Tom again, this time on his lower back, but he focused on his target. It was a special quiet he found before the fighting started and he didn’t want to give that up. Not yet. “Captain should stay here,” Da’shay said. “If Captain and Tom are in trouble, I’ll save Tom. Can’t save both and won’t lose Tom.” It was about the most coherent sentence Tom had ever heard out of Da’shay and he twisted around to look at her.
“Don’t make much sense to save the corporal and not the captain,” Tom said slowly.
Da’shay looked at him, her black eyes wide and looking so innocent, even if Tom had good cause to believe she wasn’t even a little naïve. “Makes more sense to save Tom than a captain or a general,” Da’shay said, but then her gaze started slipping away, the moment of clarity somehow fogging.
Ramsay snorted. “Hell, Tom, I’ve never been much for understanding women, but I’m pretty sure that’s her saying she loves you. And Da’shay, I already figured you’d gut shoot me yourself if it meant saving Tom.”
Tom looked from one of them to the other, not even understanding them one little bit.
“Shhh…find the white,” Da’shay said, pointing down toward the docks. Tom might have settled back down on his stomach to study the world through the scope of his rifle, but his brain kept turning over the fact that Da’shay hadn’t denied it when Ramsay said she loved him. A long time past, Tom decided he didn’t know what love really meant. Maybe he still didn’t. He knew what it meant that Da’shay was flat out picking him over anyone else in the world to protect, though. Tom had given that sort of loyalty to a half-dozen captains, including Ramsay. This was about the only time anyone had ever claimed to feel the same toward him.
“White all clouded with brown. Like brown,” Da’shay said, her voice sounding dazed. Tom didn’t really have an answer for that, so they all waited in the quiet.
“Sir?” a quiet voice broke through the silence. Tom looked over his shoulder and Eli stood there with a bag in hand and a wild look in his eye.
Becca slid around behind him, her eyes going straight to the dock. “All the heavenly saints. Are those Da’shay’s aliens?”
“Seems like we can call them cati, now,” Ramsay said.
“Sir, why did we abandon ship?” Eli was right to the point. Tom wondered how a rule-following, clean cut boy from the inner planets saw the rest of them. Tom turned back to studying the dock about the same time Eli announced, “We should send a blast to Command.”
“You may have that chance, yet.” Ramsay sounded tired. “Da’shay is going to try taking the large ship.”
“Sir?” Eli’s voice rose a good octave. “We’re attacking aliens? But—”
“Stand down, sergeant,” Ramsay cut him off. “You and I know that we’re looking at war, no two ways about that. But if Command comes flying in expecting human tech and these guys have given the slavers a technical advantage, we could be looking at millions dead. Hell, they might have some way to knock us off the quantum string and leave troop ships floating in normal space without enough food for the two or three years it would take to fly all the way out here. So I don’t care much what your classes say. If there’s even a chance of stealing some tech and getting it to the engineers back home, we’re taking it.” Ramsay had a fire in his voice Tom hadn’t heard before, but it was pretty clear he expected his crew to obey. Eli dropped his gaze to the floor and Ramsay seemed to settle some before he continued. “If Da’shay knows what she’s doing, we may have a ride off the planet. If, and let’s be honest, this is more likely, she gets herself and Tom and me all killed, you’re going to make some decisions.”
“Captain, if you’re fighting, I’m fighting,” Becca said firmly. “Tom has enough weapons there for an army and I’m not a bad shot. I’m not as good as Tom, but I always got respectable firearms reviews back when I had captains who actually filled those things out.”
“No,” Ramsay said sharply. Tom held his breath, but none of the cati even blinked at the sound. Ramsay’s next words were softer. “Becca, you’re the only one of us that has a significant amount of classified data rattling around in the brain. If we’re headed for war, then you’d be a real help to the slavers if they could torture technical specifications out of you. Your orders are clear. You’re to watch, and if we go getting dead, you evacuate. Disappear into the population. Get a job fixing sand cars. I don’t care, but you keep clear of the Kratos and anyone who might have known us. Got it?”
“Yes sir.” Becca was sounding mulish about it and Tom wondered if she would really follow that order or wait for a chance to throw herself into the fight. Fact was, he just didn’t know.
“Sir, I should go send off a blast,” Eli said. He managed to sound calm even though doing that would sure as hell alert the slavers. He’d be trapped in the Kratos with his cover blown.
“If we win, we can tell Command from that fancy ship down there.” Ramsay paused. “Hopefully. If we don’t win, you get back to the Kratos and you send that blast if you think you have to. This stuff here on the wall, it seems to block them from reading our thoughts or feelings or whatever the hell it is that Da’shay is always picking up on.”
“Colors,” she offered helpfully.
“Command will want a sample of that. Get it back to the Kratos and do as much of an analysis as you can before you send the blast. Got it?”
“Yes sir.”
“And Eli? If you can find a way to get a message out that doesn’t include blasting through Nodar’s security net and getting yourself arrested, you do it. The first rule of war is to survive. You can’t do your side any good in a prison cell or dead.” Ramsay sat on the ground and pulled a gun close before starting to load it. “God knows I never did much for Earth during the casslit wars.”
“But if we helped—” Becca started arguing.
“Ain’t like two more gun hands will make a difference here,” Tom cut her off. “If Da’shay’s right that we can punch through, we need to be ready to move and move fast because I ain’t even going to guess how long we can hold all them off before they try to retake the ship.”
“You think you can?” She was chewing on her lip.
“Da’shay says we can, so yep,” Tom agreed. “We’re going to start with panicking the ones that are running around, so you might want to take cover in the tunnel and be ready to either come running after us or go running for the city proper.” Tom thought they’d win, but he wasn’t a fool. Things happened in battle and the best side sometimes lost.
“This is incredibly stupid,” Ramsay complained as he pulled out a length of cable firmly anchored deep into the rock. “What order are we going down?”
Da’shay’s hand finally stopped stroking Tom. “Tom shoots. Running and panic.”
“Yep, got that,” Tom agreed. He lined his weapon up with the officer she had ordered him to kill before starting in on the panic.
“Captain to the ground. Genta-girl following. All the cati confused. Go for the ship, Tom firing until we
have position next to the ship.” Da’shay pointed at the largest of the ships.
“That will put Tom trying to repel with very little cover,” Eli said. “I could—”
“Nope,” Tom interrupted. “I don’t need you accidentally shooting me.”
Eli sucked in a fast breath. “I would never—”
“And I ain’t known you long enough to feel any better with you at my back,” Tom said firmly. He pulled the weapons closer to make it clear he didn’t plan to leave any behind. Looking over at Becca, he sighed and put a small handgun and a knife to the side. “For you, not him,” he said firmly.
Eli’s mouth fell open. “I’ve had you at my back on every mission we’ve gone on.”
“And you ain’t never been at mine. It’s Da’shay’s plan and I reckon I’m going to follow that.” Tom gave Eli a grin, but the man was staring at Tom as if he’d grown another head.
“He just ain’t the trusting sort. It’s not you,” Becca whispered. She might have said more, except Ramsay slipped over the side of the ledge and starting sliding down the cable.
It was time for the show. Tom put his first bullet in the officer’s head—right where a genta’s soft spot was, and he fell silently, his arms thrown wide. Hell, he fell so quiet that no one even seemed to notice. Moving quickly, he lined up on a small pile of cylinders that had been stacked up away from other cargo and took a shot. Just like he’d suspected, they were flammables. The one canister exploded, the force driving the metal container flying across the dock. Workers paused, a dozen of them started a sort of loping run toward emergency equipment and two finally headed for the fallen officer without even a trace of concern. The rest turned back toward their work as if nothing happened. Fuck that. Da’shay gave him a smile and then slipped over the edge of the ledge, so Tom figured he had a limited time to panic these bastards.