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Fighting Kat

Page 2

by PJ Schnyder


  Prey.

  Dev didn’t step away. He stood taller, weight distributed over the balls of his feet. The air of authority around him crystallized and became unmistakable. “Put a leash on it.” He looked her directly in the eye and his will stood up to hers through that direct gaze, drove out any misconceptions about his status as prey. Relief flooded through her as he continued with his informal briefing. “We’re taking on passengers. Military. They’re a special team put together to provide support to your soldier’s unit for the next phase of Rygard’s mission. From the intel packet I was sent, the orders are escalating from reconnaissance to decisive action. These won’t be your average grunts. Each will have special skill sets and every one of them is trained to look, see and think. I want you in control, not a hiss or a snarl out of you. Not a single hint that you’re anything but a merc unless I give my say so.”

  “Understood.” For now, she could give him that.

  She would need more from him to keep her head clear and the predator locked down.

  * * *

  Kaitlyn arrived in the cargo hold as the intercom announced confirmation of the ship to ship docking procedure. Dev’s merc vessel was a decent size, built primarily for intergalactic and interplanetary runs. The hull had some aerodynamics taken into design consideration for the odd atmospheric landing but mostly it was meant to remain in orbit with shuttles to take teams planet-side when necessary. Enough room for her to roam most of the time, yet not so big they wouldn’t feel it as the significantly larger military cruiser extended its transfer tube and locked it into place over their cargo doors, hissing as the seals cycled and equalized air pressure.

  She wrinkled her nose as the doors opened and the air from the two ships mingled. Though air locks minimized transfer, it was damned hard not to trade at least a little bit of atmosphere. It was downright impossible when transferring heavy duty equipment rather than just personnel.

  Skuld caught sight of her as she stepped to one side, slightly behind the rest of the crew. Kaitlyn traded nods with a few, but for Skuld, she smiled. A little. The gorgeous blonde had changed into a clean ship suit, crisp with fresh starch. Normally, her gear was splotched with random oil splatter and grease from working with the ship’s engines. Skuld moved to join her and gave her a nudge with an elbow. “You think any of them will be cute?”

  Kaitlyn shrugged. “Not too worried about it.”

  “Well, you have juicy man flesh by the name of Rygard.” Skuld bobbed her head, golden curls bouncing. “But it’s been a while since we’ve come into port at a decent space station, and I’ve got an itch to scratch. At least hope a couple of them will be cute, for me.”

  A snort escaped before Kaitlyn arranged her features in a properly blank expression. Skuld managed to crack her mood every time. Dev might keep her in control, but it was Skuld who reminded her what it was like to enjoy...random things. “I do focus on one man at a time.” And she missed Rygard, a lot more than she’d admit out loud. “But I will hope at least one of them meets your...needs.”

  The smile Skuld gave her dazzled. Then it was suddenly replaced by an uncharacteristic somber expression as delicate eyebrows drew together. “My last couple of choices haven’t been stellar. You’ll tell me if my hormones overlook jackass warning flags in favor of muscular prowess, won’t you?”

  It took a minute to sink in. “Seriously? You’re going to rely on my opinion of the male side of the species?”

  Did they somehow hop through a wormhole without her noticing? “I’m always willing to give a guy the benefit of the doubt. You tend to assume all men are assholes, with very few exceptions.” Ah well, it was her Skuld after all. “The way I figure it, between the two of us we should be able to identify a candidate who might be worth more than a once a done for me.”

  Kaitlyn pinched the bridge of her nose as she worked through Skuld’s logic. “I’m almost afraid to ask, but I will anyway. Why are we looking for a candidate?”

  “You came back aboard after the mission on Dysnomia all soft and glowing. Didn’t yell at us much at all for leaving you there without warning. I figure Rygard had a lot to do with your good mood. Hell, it lasted for a solid week. That’s a lot of unwinding he did for you.”

  Kaitlyn tipped her head to one side. “It was not all rest and hot sex.”

  Skuld grinned. “I bet there was a lot of that though. Only other activity that relieves stress so well for you is beating people up and you don’t do that to crew. The courier run you did on station didn’t include an anticipated body count either. Besides, Cap’n said you made friends with his contact.”

  Kaitlyn didn’t look away as Skuld glanced at her sideways. Wouldn’t hurt Skuld to wonder a while longer as to whether there actually had been casualties. Healthier to always assume there might be, actually. As close as they’d grown, Skuld shouldn’t ever forget what Kaitlyn could do, did do, on some of their more serious missions.

  There’d been a bar brawl, and a body count to be honest, from the little adventure on Dysnomia Station. None of it fell within the parameters of her original assignment. Still, Dev hadn’t had to cover her tracks with the on-station officials and she’s saved more lives than she’d snuffed out. She’d lose no sleep over it. In fact, she’d not only managed to refrain from seriously damaging her contact for the delivery, she’d even made friends with Boggle. Bonus. And then there was Rygard.

  “Let’s just, see who comes aboard, okay?” Kaitlyn tried for the cautious route. “I’m pretty sure the captain wants me to hang back and stay unobtrusive.”

  Eyes widening, Skuld nodded. “Gotcha. We’re going to keep the warm fuzzy off the radar for now.”

  Of course, changing form to a panther wouldn’t be what Kaitlyn considered warm and fuzzy. If Skuld tried to call her fluffy next, there might be an issue.

  Kaitlyn relaxed, letting her shoulders drop a touch and her hands fall loose at her sides. Skuld might be cheerful and bubbly, but there was a sharp mind behind those pretty blue eyes. She could be trusted not to let important things slip despite her tendency to babble in ways Kaitlyn never would.

  “If at all possible, let’s keep it quiet.” Kaitlyn met the gaze of several of the crew men standing nearby. They weren’t eavesdropping. Still, couldn’t blame a man for overhearing a conversation held right next to him. Might as well make the message clear. “Somebody might have the security clearance to know about our crew and why I’m allowed to be part of it, but Dev would’ve mentioned it. Better to save him the fuss and keep it to ourselves.”

  Over the last couple of years there’d been plenty of attempts to restrain her for immediate transport back to a military lab instead of waiting to find out she was aboard with approval from someplace high up in the command structure. Since the events on Triton Moon Base, the Terran military had a standing set of orders to take any encountered shapeshifters into custody.

  Dev’s security clearance wasn’t obvious until he needed to wave it in the officious faces of the overly zealous. That sort of clout tended to be better used with the least frequency possible. Anything Kaitlyn could do to avoid the nonsense was all to the better, plus saved her endless hours of anger management.

  “It’s kind of amazing how you’re not bitter about the situation.” Skuld twisted a lock of gold hair around her finger. “I mean, with your temper and all. We’ve had to get tricksy to avoid you being taken into custody in the last couple of short missions.”

  “Dev says it spices up all our lives.” And yes, she winced at the dry tone of her own voice.

  Skuld only smiled more. “We’ve got your back, Katy. Always.”

  How could she not smile in return? “Appreciated.”

  And that was why she wasn’t bitter. Life could have been so much worse.

  She’d been on Triton Moon Base when the virus had been used for the first time against Terran personnel. T
hat virus, and what it did to her genetic code, was the reason shape shifters were sought out in the first place. It wasn’t sanctioned and any indication of its presence could indicate a spy from the very hostile force that attacked Triton Moon Base four years ago.

  “Seems we’ve got our welcome party assembled.” Dev strode into the cargo area from the main corridor, no sign of a limp, no sign of weakness. “Did our impending guests knock yet?”

  Kaitlyn crossed her arms over her chest. Deep inside, another part of her settled down, satisfied with her captain for the time being. “No. I’m guessing they’re waiting for us to open the cargo bay doors.”

  Dev raised his eyebrows. “Whatever happened to the pleasantries?”

  She lifted one shoulder in a half shrug. “We could wait for them to give the blast shields a kiss with whatever ordinance they’ve got on hand.”

  “Nah, we’re all on the same side for this mission. None of that sort of fun is going to happen this time...most likely.” Dev waved a hand as he walked over to the control panel next to the cargo bay doors and keyed in a sequence to give him visuals on the group waiting on the other side. “Besides, this is a special detail. Ought to be full of all sorts of unique individuals to interest us.”

  “So each of them carries a different type of ammo?” Skuld continued the banter. “I call dibs on the one packing the largest gun.”

  “He’d likely be compensating.” Kaitlyn gave a small smile but wiped it off her face as the doors began to cycle open. For Skuld, she smiled occasionally, and for Dev once in a great while. These soldiers, though, they were strangers.

  The first man stumbled back a half step as the doors opened outward. He wasn’t in danger of being hit, but he hadn’t gauged the distance right either. He didn’t wear the officer’s uniform well, so new she was guessing it still carried the original starch and creases. Rather, the uniform marked him. It reminded her of tourists wearing a big, plastic badge with bright letters spelling out, “Hello! My name is...” Without the starched fabric and shiny officer epaulettes on his shoulders, no one would ever think him military much less an officer. Three stripes. Captain.

  Having spent her childhood on the combination military and science installation of Triton Moon base, Kaitlyn had encountered her share of commissioned personnel. If this man had ever seen combat, she’d give Chester a bath for Skuld, with lavender scented bubbles. The little tube rat would love that.

  The officer in question finally stepped on through. He waited a long moment, looking around the cargo bay before resting his gaze on Dev. “Captain Devron Rishkillian, I presume. I am Captain Percival Harold Petrico-Calin IV.” Another pause, to which her captain did not respond. Good. If the officer was such a stickler for formality, he should give her captain the respect called for. Finally, the visiting officer tagged on the courtesy due. “Permission to come aboard, Captain?”

  Defensive. The man brandished etiquette as if he were waving a big stick. Funny, she’d known a school mate who’d done the same thing. Perhaps Michael was out there somewhere doing exactly the same thing as this guy. Diplomacy had been Michael’s first choice of study when he’d left for the Terran Military Academy, while she’d been held in an “observation” cell awaiting the uncertainty of her own future.

  “Permission granted to you and your team, Captain Petrico-Calin...the fourth.” Dev’s response carried no inflection whatsoever. She dragged her thoughts out of the past and focused on the present.

  Another man stepped in after Petrico-Calin. No uniform, and this man had less starch in his suit, but he stood like his waistband pinched him too tight around the generous midsection.

  Petrico-Calin inclined his head with respect. “And may I introduce Thad Archibald Turner III, esteemed representative of the Terran Senate?”

  “Mr. Turner.” Dev’s expression didn’t change, not even a quirk at the corner of his mouth. Still, Kaitlyn caught the stiffening between her captain’s shoulder blades. A minute move, one she was privy to because he trusted his crew and because she watched his back fairly often, literally and figuratively.

  Turner’s gaze swept the area, and unlike Petrico-Calin, his visual inventory took in every person in the room and cataloged them. “I would have thought you would have your entire crew mustered for this first meeting, Captain Rishkillian.”

  Interesting. Turner knew more about Dev’s crew than she’d like. About two thirds of the crew were present, mostly the ground teams who had few on board duties aside from general maintenance. They were on hand to help stow any equipment their guests brought aboard. Tails, Hassle, Durn and the rest of the permanent crew that made up the core team were busy at their stations.

  Dev shrugged. “Well now, we’re a small crew, comparatively. They’ve got their duties to be attending to. I’d rather have my pilot at the helm, for example, instead of down here in the cargo bay watching me welcome you aboard. Kaitlyn, here, serves as my first mate and ship’s medic. Skuld keeps us in the air and space-worthy.” Her captain kept the introductions short and sweet, holding the attention of the two on him. “If you gentlemen will come with me, I’ll show you to your quarters and Kaitlyn will see to showing your men to general bunks with the rest of our crew.”

  Petrico-Calin and Turner allowed themselves to be led away, another thing her captain wouldn’t ever do. He had always seen to his crew first before himself if he wasn’t bunking directly with them anyway.

  Skuld waited until they’d gotten halfway down the main corridor before nudging Kaitlyn. “So how many other guys are we taking aboard?”

  “Beats me.” Kaitlyn could hear them coming, her heightened senses picking up interesting, and very unusual footsteps. “We’ll find out in the next second or so.”

  The first to appear was a squat, solid wall of a man. A grizzled veteran, he didn’t need the white blaze of hair cutting through dark grey to indicate his age. Years of combat had weathered his face and crisscrossed his hands with scars. He stopped an exact inch from the threshold before settling his eyes on Kaitlyn and Skuld.

  Kaitlyn pushed away from the crate she’d been leaning against to stand where her captain had been a moment before.

  “Ma’am.” The old soldier nodded first to her, then to Skuld. “Gunnery Sergeant, requesting permission to come aboard.”

  Ah, a man with actual manners. He’d said the words with real sincerity and she believed that, to him, the ancient tradition had meaning.

  “My captain granted permission, Gunnery Sergeant, to you and yours.” She considered, and then added to that. “You are welcome aboard.”

  “Thank you, ma’am. The men call me Badger. I’d be obliged if you did the same.”

  “Kaitlyn.” She nodded and then tipped her head toward her friend. “And this is our ship’s engineer, Skuld.”

  Badger raised his fingers to tip an imaginary hat. “Ma’am.”

  He stepped over the threshold then and turned to gesture to the men behind him.

  Skuld burst out with a delighted clap of her hands. “A dog!”

  Fantastic.

  Chester chose that moment to pop his head out from the front of Skuld’s ship suit. He’d been napping earlier, but the little ferret couldn’t possibly sleep through his mistress’s current excitement.

  Chester might be an annoying tube rat, but he was crew and not just any weasel. Smarter than he looked, he was a key subject in behavioral and training experiments Kaitlyn conducted and also helped Skuld retrieve tools when she dropped them in hard to reach places within the ship’s engine. All the training aside, he was one of hers and had helped her in several tight situations as much as his tiny brain could. He’d gone above and beyond in his loyalty. Besides, Skuld would be devastated if something happened to him. So Kaitlyn kept her attention on the dog.

  The dog’s ears snapped forward, dark eyes on the ferret. He didn’t so mu
ch as tug on his leash or quicken his pace as he stepped into the cargo bay at his handler’s side. But every muscle under his thick coat bunched and he practically vibrated with tension. Black and tan, with the sharp features of a classic German Shepherd Dog from the Old World, he was a handsome specimen. Big too, with broad shoulders and a deep chest. She would bet he outweighed her in cat form.

  She switched her weight over to one side, deliberately redirecting the dog’s attention. Those big triangular ears swiveled her way and the dog tilted his head to one side as he caught sight of her. Real intelligence met her gaze; a powerful personality lived behind those melting brown puppy eyes. Sure she had his attention, she lifted her lip in a hint of a snarl. A faint whine, inaudible to human ears, was the only hint the dog caught what the humans didn’t. His gaze dropped to the floor for a brief second before rising back up to meet hers again.

  He was not the top predator on this ship and they both knew it.

  “Staff Sergeant Taylor, ma’am. You can call me Tracer.” The handler spoke to Skuld, his attention and his scent making it clear he had eyes only for her the minute he walked aboard. “This is Kx9-8775. We all call him Max.”

  “Can I pet him?” Skuld was still excited about the pooch and apparently heedless of the potential danger to Chester.

  “Sure.” Tracer rubbed the top of his partner’s head. The dog easily stood at the man’s hip, his big head at waist height. “Just keep your eyes on me as you step on over and don’t look directly at him. He’ll take it as an act of aggression if you look him in the eyes.”

  “Oh.” Skuld had no problem following those directions. Kaitlyn decided to pretend she hadn’t heard the giggle to follow. When she was in panther form and in a particularly bad mood, Dev had given the same warning to Skuld about Kaitlyn. Skuld stepped on over and the big dog sat and offered a paw to shake.

 

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