“Okay. Where's Mack…” Ren began. Cute critters were great and all, but she loved that damn rifle.
“I have Mack Daddy,” Derick grinned. The actual trip to retrieve the sniper rifle and the remains of Edwards and Macon hadn't been fun but, like most Sharks, pain was soothed by humour.
“Oh, thank God,” Ren flopped back against her pillow. “It's bad enough I got taken out by a giant plant monster, but losing my gun too?”
“Death is no excuse. I would have written you up for certain,” Derick offered dryly and jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “I'll clean it up for you when I get a chance. If shit will stop trying to kill us,” he added.
That was typically Gunny but, again, the Little Princess declared he was doing it because it was hers. “Thanks, Gunny.”
“Of course.” Despite his joking and bad-assitude, he was rather modest when it came to some things. At his name being bellowed, Derick rose to his feet. “I'm being hailed. Rest up. I need you shooting shit,” he grinned with a wink.
Caught in his gaze, Ren knew there were things she should say, despite the status quo. It wouldn't be much, just a promise to wait. Yet she opened her mouth, the only thing that came out was “Thanks, Gunny. I'm sorry I lost my head like some rookie.”
Sparing her a slight smile, Derick brushed off the apology as he headed out. “Don't worry about it. Not every day you get attacked by an Audrey.”
“No kidding.” She sniffed. “A tongue that spears, that's gotta be someone's nightmare.”
“I don't want to know!” Derick shot over his shoulder before leaving her.
* * *
“So? What is it? Jimmy Hoffa, the Yeti, what?” Derick near-demanded from Tom, wondering if the Captain would let him strangle his friend. Maybe. “A hundred virgins waiting for us?”
Jules rolled her eyes. These two were a walking public service announcement for sexual harassment.
Tom grinned but looked past his friend to the Sharks. “Shiny, Oz, go get some grub and rest up a bit.”
“Thank you, Major!” Shiny sang out as the two Sharks headed off towards the campfire.
Derick eyed Tom sourly. “Permission to shoot him, Captain Curran?”
Chuckling, Jules pretended to consider it. The friendship between the two men was such she felt comfortable joining in the teasing. “Maybe the kneecaps. I'm getting used to him.”
“Told you I'd wear her down with my charm,” Tom winked.
“More like Stockholm Syndrome,” Jules retorted, inclining her head towards Derick. “Tell the man before I change my mind.”
Grinning like a little boy, Tom pulled the pictures up on his slate and turned it to face his friend. “A city, mate. Like fucking Machu Picchu, but it's a city.”
Disbelieving, Derick took the device and dropped his eyes to it belatedly. After a moment, he let out a low whistle. “Fuck. Me.”
“That's what he said,” Jules grinned despite the implications represented by a city, even an abandoned one.
“You're a laugh a minute, Captain,” Tom retorted, side-eyeing her before taking his slate back. “What's our status?”
“I got back about twenty minutes ago,” Derick replied. “We were able to find three transponders. Jazz and Luke rallied the Sharks and the squints to get temporary shelter set up. Dr. Andropolis made some stew. With what, I don't know, but it tastes okay.” Rolling his neck to stretch it, Derick continued. “We ran into a new lifeform that did NOT look friendly.” It was his turn to show pictures. “They were heading for the river and didn't appear to notice us.”
“Oh, God,” Jules made a face over Tom's shoulder, staring at the slate in disgust.
“Looks like Jazz's tentacle porn collection,” Tom smirked, swiping the screen to move to the next picture.
“Tentacle porn?” Jules made a face and shook her head, holding up a hand to still any response. Not that she would admit it, but she was sleeping with one eye open tonight. “They look like velociraptors.”
“I guess,” Tom said, studying them a bit longer before he paused and handed the slate back to Derick. “Right, we need this lot packed up and ready to travel ASAP.”
“We going to march all these people through the woods, at night?” Derick could already imagine the complaints, but the risk was his primary concern. Not to mention the current injured list.
Tom shuddered a little. “Not exactly.”
On the way back to the campsite, Tom and Jules discussed their options. While Tom's primary concern was the safety of the civilians under his charge, there was no denying the importance of their discovery, not just to them but also to the whole fleet. The presence of the city, as abandoned and ancient as it looked, changed everything.
If another civilisation existed on this world, they needed to make contact and reach some accord. Finding another planet would be impossible, not with their depleted resources and the population on the verge of all out riot. Still, the consequences of violent colonisation in the past three hundred years were not lost on modern humans. The memory of how badly things could go wrong if this was handled improperly was written in the DNA of everyone whose ethnic origins bore the worst of it.
Shifting his gaze to Jules from Derick, Tom shrugged his shoulders, indicating it was her place to explain. “Go head, Captain, it's your show.”
She met Tom's gaze, sure of the plan they'd discussed on the way back to the camp. “We're going to fly. IF,” Jules emphasized with a nod towards the ship. “IF the engines aren't damaged. We can't break atmo or even go that high in it but, if she lifts off, we can fly to the city.”
XV
The Valley
After an hour of inspection and diagnostics with Luke Rickman, Jules and Tom finally decided the hopper was air-worthy. The Firefly would never break atmo again, not with her damage, but Jules and Luke determined it would survive at least a few trips to the valley and back. She'd keep it low and slow, skimming the tops of the massive trees they'd hiked through.
Ideally, they should have waited until morning, but their position was precarious at best and could turn downright deadly if the weather turned or worse, the sky crabs returned.
Especially if the sky crabs returned.
“You sure this is a good idea?”
A bemused smile crossed Jules's lips at the barely concealed anxiety in Tom's voice as he braced himself in the co-pilot's chair next to her. His presence at her side meant a lot to her but she didn't dare voice those feelings. Not right now anyway.
Initially, when Jules proposed this plan on the hike back, she'd planned on doing it alone. Firing up the ship after the damage it had sustained was insane. Period.
Naturally, Tom insisted (“Bloody hell you are…!”) on joining her and here he was, despite Jules's best efforts to talk him out of it and what might be a case of the jitters.
“You're not scared, are you?” She glanced sideways at him, long enough to catch his scowl.
“Those are fightin' words, luv,” Tom retorted, straightening and bristling even more when Jules chuckled. “I'm not bloody scared of anything, I'm just mentioning we might be a little hasty.”
Smirking, Jules ran a thumb under the bank of switches that started the engines. With a solid click-click-click, she felt more than heard the whine of the powerful engine as it fired up. Tossing a wink at him, she said, “Don't panic, Marine. This is my thing.”
Tom rolled his eyes. “Bloody wingnuts. I hope you're better at flying than making jokes,” he teased back, giving his harness a final jerk to test it.
At what point this familiarity developed between them, Jules didn't know but she enjoyed it. After months of being the captain of the Rutherford where everyone saluted or tiptoed around her because of rank, it was nice to engage in the friendly relationships she enjoyed when she was just a pilot. She assumed the captaincy because it was necessary, but Jules was a pilot first and she missed the life. Remaining in charge of a big Bertha like the Rutherford was not what she wanted long-term.
> Under normal circumstances, the conflict of their rank would never be an issue because they would be so far out of each other's orbit, it was a moot point. But the world was changing now, and she respected he'd never foisted unsolicited advice to her about running the ship or taking command or whatever. He never assumed she didn't know what she was doing, and he listened instead of telling her how to solve some problem. In the rare staff conference call, he often listened before speaking up and he'd never talked down to her, unlike that jackass in Engineering.
So, when the expedition called for a military escort, she had no problem letting Tom take the lead planet side, mostly because she knew he wasn't doing so because she was incompetent.
Jules also liked the friendship between them was evolving into…something. It was nice to know when they were back on the Rutherford, there was at least one person with whom Jules could be herself. Besides, she enjoyed their banter. It bordered on the flirtatious and that too, was something Jules missed. She was grateful to be seen as a woman by a man who appreciated it enough to not let it undermine his confidence in her as an officer.
Flashing her companion, a smile she had no clue struck Tom Merrick deaf, dumb and stupid, she tapped her headset. “Gunny, is everyone at minimum safe distance?”
“Affirmative, Captain,” Derick's crispy voice responded across the speakers. “How's the Major doing? He's not so good with the flying…”
“Screw you, Gunny,” Tom retorted.
“Oh, didn't realize you were on the channel.” Derick's smirk could actually be heard through the links.
“Oy! I know where you sleep at night!” Tom fired back, grumbling that maybe the big bloke's smart ass wasn't so funny anymore.
“He's a little twitchy but otherwise all right,” Jules grinned, glancing at Tom. “I'm going to fire the thrusters. It's going to be messy but there's no other way around it. Once I gain altitude, I'll loop back and set down in the designated area.”
“And make sure the squad is deployed around the squints,” Tom threw in, knowing it would rankle Derick to be told something they'd already discussed. Suck on that, Gunny. “When this bird picks up, it's going to make a lot of noise. I don't want those MULKS you saw heading back to investigate.”
“Mulks?” Jules raised an eyebrow.
“Motherfucking Ugly Lizard Kangaroos.”
“Do you guys use acronyms for everything?” she retorted jokingly, turning back to the controls with a shake of her head.
* * *
The expedition had been moved as far back as possible, a good hundred feet from the hopper, near a gentle part of the hill abutting the flat plain before the cliff's edge. Reddish light from marking flares lit the space, bathing them all in a crimson glow highlighting their precarious situation and the worry on everyone's face. The Sharks, surrounding them at appropriate intervals, were surveying the jungle in all directions, keeping an eye out for any nocturnal visitors that might come to investigate the light and noise.
“Will the ship be okay?” Derick asked his brother quietly, standing towards the back of the group with him. He wouldn't admit it, but the butterflies in his stomach were threatening to turn into pterodactyls.
Luke shrugged, his gaze also locked on the bluish glow of the thrusters under the Firefly. “The engines and the reactor are fine, they're the most protected parts of the ship. It's the hull and the structure I'm worried about. The ribs took a beating from those what, sky crabs? Firing up the engines will put stress on them, I just hope it doesn't break apart.”
Derick's face darkened. He'd been hoping for something a little more optimistic, but then again when had the Rickman boys been anything but blunt? Their father raised all his sons that way and their mother just apologised for them a whole lot.
A slight touch on his arm made Luke look over a shoulder, just enough to see Tammy behind him. His gaze softened, and he motioned her beside him.
“Hey,” she greeted tightly, nodding towards the ship. “How much longer?”
Like the rest of the squints, Olivia's death had gutted the young woman. She'd looked up to Dr. Hall, nearly worshipping the woman, and Luke's shoulder bore the stains of her grief. Even those that hadn't known Olivia well, like the Sharks, were affected. Babel was meant to be the beginning of a new dawn, but those rosy coloured expectations were now smeared with a hard dose of reality.
“Not much,” Derick nodded, glancing around Luke at her. “Just got the word from Captain Curran.”
“You okay?” Luke nudged her affectionately with one shoulder.
Tammy's cheeks bloomed, a little embarrassed by her emotional display. Poor Luke had been her sole confidant since Earth's destruction. As nice as it was, she knew she needed to toughen up a bit, because the years ahead were going to be hard. Not for the first time, she realized how unfair she was being. After all, he'd lost family too.
“Yeah,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest. “Shell-shocked, like everyone is, but better.”
The thunderous roar of the Firefly's engines cut off any further conversation. Beneath them, the ground shook as the bluish glow of the ship's exhaust lit up the night. Around them, the jungle's flying denizens took to the skies in a flurry of panic and the closest trees and plants swayed at the outpouring of heated gases.
After a few seconds, the roar died down into a focused drone even though it still drowned out the nocturnal panic. When the ship moved, Derick swore he felt the suction of forty some odd breaths being held. The Firefly's engines fired again, tilting forward towards the edge of the chasm. Dirt and mud oozed into the now empty space under the hopper as a rock came loose and rolled over the edge into the chasm.
The vibrations loosened dirt on the hillside, sending it down and causing the gathered expedition to take a step back reflexively, despite being well out of the way. As they watched, the Firefly reached the edge of the cliff and dropped like a massive rock out of sight.
Near Derick, someone stifled a scream, but he ignored it. They didn't have the link feed he did, to know that Jules and Tom were okay. He was about to nudge his brother when he heard a familiar voice nearby.
“Two days of latrine duty says the Major's fainted.”
Derick shot a glare behind him, nailing the culprit with it. “Harwood, no betting unless you want two full weeks of latrine duty.”
“Just joking, Gunny,” Cori replied contritely, waving off French's apparent acceptance of the bet.
Derick rolled his eyes just as another burst of sound washed over them and the Firefly appeared in the air over the chasm. Hovering in place for a few seconds, it lifted higher and shot across the chasm to circle around to the landing site they'd decided on earlier.
Once on the ground, it was only a few seconds before the hatch popped and the ramp lowered, revealing a grinning Tom Merrick. The ship looked like an aeronautical version of the man himself. Both had been to hell and back and fought like junkyard dogs the entire way. “All right, you lot! All aboard! We're going on a little trip!”
* * *
Despite the events of the last several hours, the expedition team hurried onto the ship in no time flat. Derick guessed the prospect of an ancient city dulled even the rawness of Dr. Hall's death.
Lift off, the short trip and the landing in the deep valley next to the city proved uneventful, which Derick welcomed. Not that he wasn't up for adventure but fuck a dead dog — he'd prefer it to be spread out.
As Jules set the Firefly down gently in a clearing between the tree line and the river cutting through the valley, she stared at the city silhouetted against the moons. “I wonder if this is how Hiram Bingham or Howard Carter felt when they made their discoveries,” she said quietly, inhaling deeply and letting out a sigh.
“Shit scared they don't fuck anything up?” Tom remarked, studying the city. He wished he had time to sit here and enjoy the moment with Jules. To talk about history without being judged for the uniform he wore or his Ocker accent.
He glanced at Jules,
watching her profile, and promised himself he would make that happen at some point. Right now, they all needed to rest and refuel.
* * *
An hour later, camp was fully set up, patrols were scheduled, and everyone was shouldering for a spot inside the hopper. No one had complained about being made to sleep inside the craft, despite the slightly cramped conditions. Derick suspected it was because pictures of the mulks had been circulated and no one wanted to wake up to that drooling on them.
He'd dropped his kit in a spot near the small medical bay, glad to find a space to stretch out all six feet and four inches of himself and got to work cleaning Ren's sniper rifle, Mack Daddy. The McAllister 4K Sniper Rifle, aka 'Mack Daddy', was truly a thing of beauty. Much like its owner, a little voice niggled at him.
Frowning, Derick ignored it and smoothed an oiled rag over the barrel, rubbing gently when his fingers hit a piece of dried on plant gunk. It was an expensive and valuable weapon Derick didn't want to be without. He definitely wasn't taking it apart and patiently cleaning every piece because it was Ren's.
Right. His brother hadn't bought that either.
Derick sighed, swiping his forehead with the back of a hand and grabbed the base stock. He blew into the latch, getting any last bit of dirt and snapped the barrel assembly into it. He thought putting the work into cleaning the damn thing would get his mind off everything, but it hadn't. Instead, he'd gone right back to the scene, arriving to find Ren out of it and a plant spear protruding from her leg.
Damn if his heart hadn't stopped and then sank into his boots while he watched Mayday work on her. Goddamn. Ever since day one, when she was a new private under his newly tagged sergeant, they had 'clicked'. Now, five or six years later, they finished each other's sentences, could exchange a look and just know what the other one wanted. They were friends, who entertained a kind of flirtation that suggested in a different life, a different situation, they might someday be more.
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