Of Bravery and Bluster

by Scott Kelemen

  Dianne couldn’t bring herself to care. She had tried. “Greg?” No response. “Lind?” Again, the circuit remained empty. “Anyone on Team 5!” When the circuit remained empty the third time, she cut back over to her team-internal channel. “Suzi, Team 5 is dark.”

  “Gimme two seconds.” The team’s resident comms expert shifted to the nearest mounted terminal, needing the station system to augment what her datapad was able to give her. “Alright, I pinged their transponder. The group radio repeat isn’t spitting anything back. If that’s failed already, they could be in trouble.”

  Even as she said it, a red flare ignited on the comm-tracking screen. “Damn! Their SAR beacon just went off!”

  Dianne jammed a power feed into her helmet and slipped it over her head. Firing up the HUD, she measured the distance to the search-and-rescue marker. “We need to get to the ready-duty shuttle in the hangar.”

  Terro interjected, “The station team will handle it!”

  Dianne sputtered her lips, “Pff! The station team knows it’s on this asteroid to babysit a bunch of cadets. Last I saw them, they had their feet kicked up on some desk and were barely watching the system. Terro, you call them, but I’m not waiting! We could be spinning up the engines in less than two minutes if we go now! Suzi, be my co-pilot?”

  “On it!” She pushed off, ready to follow Dianne at the run.

  The radio came alive before they were in the DepRec. “Starling, this is Elandan. Is that Greg’s team that went red?”

  She squished her instinctive, biting reply. Francio Elandan might be one of Nura’s lackeys, but their team was already out in the vacuum. They might be even closer. “Yes!” was her curt reply. Terro unclipped one of the portable radios from a holding tray and flipped it to Dianne so she could start running without missing the reply.

  Francio barked across the net, “Nura, you psychopath! You said you weren’t going to hurt anyone! Did you fuck around with their suits?”

  Nura launched back at him, “Idiot! Stay off the net!”

  “You are way out of line, Nura! Team 2, she’s flipped out. I’ve got Command. Drop the drill and get over the hill. Head for Team 5. Sounds like they might be in trouble.”

  Nura shrieked, “I’m the commander of this rig!”

  Dianne slashed in, “You’re a damned criminal!”

  Nura started in again, but Francio talked right over her, “You have to believe us, Starling. We were messing with all of you, but we didn’t intend anyone to get hurt!”

  Dianne knew it. She’d been right. They had unknowingly beaten the Trinitians at their own game by staying with the drills all night. When the Trinitians couldn’t screw up the drills while they were being watched, Nura had taken further steps herself. “Just get to team 5, Fran. I’m on my way.”

  She rounded the final corner and bolted into the hangar. Skipping past a few surprised technicians, she yelled, “Clear the area! We’re opening the doors in one minute for short-notice launch!” She darted right for the readied shuttle kept at hot-standby in case of SARs exactly like this. She didn’t know how far the assigned flight crew was from the hangar, but she wasn’t going to wait around.

  Dianne wasted no time flinging herself into the pilot seat and commencing the start-up sequence. Suzi had been less nimble in picking her way through the hangar. She was a good fifteen seconds behind. That didn’t stop her from diving into the pre-flight checklist with equal energy.

  Zipping through the system checks, Dianne opened a short-range radio channel. “Bubble Crown, this is SAR 1. Emergent distress with cadet drill team 5. Launching with two souls on board to assist.”

  “SAR 1, Bubble Crown. Copied the emergency. Who is this? I only sent the call to the SAR team myself five seconds ago.”

  “This is Cadet Starling. I know they’re in trouble, and I can be out to them in less than two minutes if you clear me. I have the flight credentials. I request clearance to launch!”

  Silence reigned on the comm net as the dispatcher’s good will warred with his commitment to procedure. “Launch clearance granted. Nothing fancy, cadet. Get out there. Recover if needed. Back in. I have the report that the hangar is clear of personnel. Depressurizing now.”

  Dianne’s blood surged with adrenalin as the chains were taken off. “SAR 1, Roger. Guard the cadet team tactical net for more detail. Team 2 was on their way to intercept. We’ll be off the ground in ten seconds.” She toggled down the status board, shifting the lights on each of the thrusters from standby-yellow to active-green. Her fingertips splayed out over the flight interface and eased the shuttle into the air. Clear of the pad, she built as much speed as she could until free of the hangar, then gunned the thrusters to the red line.

  Suzi echoed the computer’s warning. “You’re asking for too much acceleration. They didn’t have the coolant system primed. I need thirty seconds before you can take her above seventy percent power.”

  Dianne hissed. “The techs shouldn’t have been that sloppy. This asteroid duty has really turned them lazy. This whole thing is going to be over before you get it online.”

  The computer buzzed an alert off the status panel. Suzi drove the point home, “You’ll slag the whole thruster manifold if you keep this up!”

  Dianne walked back the power. “Fine. I’ll keep it under seventy.” She opened the cadet tactical net again. “Fran, do you have eyes on team 5 yet?”

  “We’re still half a kilometer out from their drill site. I have at least one major obstacle blocking my view.”

  Suzi was churning her way through the filed plans for each of the drill teams. She finally found the exact coordinates for the site. “Coming on your HUD now.”

  Dianne saw the marker appear in front of her eyes, and breathed a sigh of relief. She had remembered right. She only needed a few degrees correction to her arcing flight to meet the least-time path to the lost team’s digging assignment. “We should have them visual as soon as we clear that rock formation on the starboard bow. Fifteen seconds.”

  The SAR shuttle banked right as they cleared the summit. Dianne used the miniscule gravity of the planetoid to best effect as they rocketed down the far slope toward the team 5 drill site.

  Suzi called out, “I see it! Twenty meters from their original marked location. Still nothing from their beacon.”

  “Yeah, but I see one of them waving their arms at us. Look!” Dianne pushed the shuttle thrusters back into the red zone. Behind her, she heard the engines scream a little in protest, but didn’t back down.

  Suzi squeaked, “You’re coming in too hot! You’ll torch them!”

  Dianne blew a strand of hair off her face. “Ye of little faith.” Rather than trying for a perfect touch-down in front of the other team, she angled out a dozen meters and over-shot them. As soon as she was past, she flipped the shuttle on its side and reversed the thruster blast. Howling streams of exhaust belched out into the near-vacuum, only to be extinguished by the powerful void. But not before the heat scoured the rocks beyond into liquid streaks that would later solidify.

  Dianne had trusted totally in the shuttle’s anti-gravity protections. Pulling g-forces that should have crushed them like bugs, the two pilots didn’t feel more than a slight shifting of their weight. Cutting back the engines exactly as their velocity crossed the zero-threshold, she brought them floating to the terrain.

  Suzi punched the button to seal the cockpit. Neither of them had their vac-suits on. As soon as she read a stable pressure, she blew open the after-hatch.

  Spinning to the camera controls, Dianne summoned the exterior view. “Come on, Greg. Get your ass inside! We can’t come for you!”

  Suzi had tried to ping them again on their headsets, but still had nothing. She smacked the console in frustration. “Their radios are still dead!”

  For a moment, none of the dust-coated cadets moved. Then, slowly, they stirred to life. Three of them were dragging the other two toward the shuttle. It was slow, and the two pilots could only share ragged bre
aths as they watched the drama unfold.

  At last, the pack of cadets stumbled into the passenger compartment. Suzi closed the lock and began to pressurize the cabin.

  Dianne began applying thrust, fearing there would be injuries beyond what could be solved by having fresh air pumped into them. Complaint arose from the engine compartment as the thrusters resisted her demands for speed. Potentially damaged by her initial bursts, they barely coughed out half of their power now.

  Urging every ounce of power she could get out of the system, she burned back toward the hangar, fearing the emergency wasn’t over. All of them were trained in basic first-aid, but too much could have gone wrong on a much larger scale. She powered into the hangar on the very limits of safety protocols and settled the shuttle back into its berth.

  “Suzi, tell control to get the hangar pressurized so medical teams can get to us!” She shoved away from the pilot console, paused just long enough to get confirmation from the environment system that the aft cabin was back to normal, then ordered it open and charged into the passenger section.

  Later, she wouldn’t easily admit, but her heart raced noticeably slower as she saw both Greg and Lind with their helmets off and looking totally unharmed. They had been among the trio helping the other two on their team. Struggling to keep the raw relief from her voice, Dianne asked, “What happened?”

  Greg glanced back at her, and let out a small laugh. “Should have known it was you flying like that. Thanks for hauling ass. We needed every second. All our comms went down. Even our beacon gave out. We were right back to hand signals, trying to get everyone headed back in toward the complex. Trevor had the thruster pack, and indicated he was about the jump back here to grab a couple radios when the pack all-but exploded. Showered Olia with debris, but we have no idea how bad it is.”

  As he spoke, they continued to work on stripping the others out of their vac-suits. One by one, team 5 emerged.

  As they cracked Trevor Ammon’s helmet, he let out a guttural cough, but the sound of one who was very much alive. “I’m good! The pack shorted out every circuit I had when it blew, but I’m good!”

  Olia Reeve wasn’t far behind. She let out a small yelp of pain as they moved her, but managed to say, “There’s something planted in my leg, but the suit pumped sealant around the limb. It all hardened up. I won’t be able to move a muscle until you cut it off me, but I should be fine once you do.” She shivered. “Wouldn’t say no to some pain meds until they can pull the shrapnel out.” She forced a brave smile.

  Greg caught Dianne’s eye. If they took too long, with the suit sealed off, she could easily lose that leg instead of just enduring a little more pain. “How long?”

  Dianne placed a hand on his shoulder and the other on Olia’s. “We’re already pressurizing. You only have to hold on for a few more seconds. I’m going to let them in.”

  Even as she stepped for the entry controls, she heard Lind say, “Then we’re going to find out who messed with our gear.”

  Dianne knew that now was not the time for the whole story. ‘Nura, we are going to see you burn for this!’

  Chapter 17

  The blood station warbled one final time, and spit out a report on Jeremy that Garam was no longer surprised to see. “Well, there it is. Proof positive. All four of us showing residual presence of recreational hallucinogens. So, is it possible we’re all hiding the same habit but not running into each other at the Academy’s best clandestine parties, or are you willing to call bullshit on this right along with me?”

  Harric grumbled a little under his breath.

  Garam leaned in toward him, exposing his ear, “What was that?”

  “Fine! I admit, I was wrong. That’s too much of a damned coincidence.”

  Tegue chuckled, “Yeah. No way Jeremy would be interesting enough to be a hidden lover of ‘shrooms.”

  Jeremy scowled back. “Trying to piss me off a little more?”

  Garam stomped on the rising argument, “Enough! Look, we need to get ahead of this. I might have a splitting headache, but I remember sharing a drink with all of you.” An image of a tray of drinks appeared in his mind, with five tumblers of alcohol and a single flute of champagne for the supervisor. ‘Yes, that was clear.’ He went on, “That’s when everything goes hazy. We’ve already decided one coincidence didn’t make any sense. Want to go two for two?”

  Tegue remembered as well, struggling to think past the residual pounding behind his skull. “Renny brought them.”

  Jeremy added, “And who is the only one not here? Who is off with Westren making a detailed, specific list of complaints against us for the ‘honor of the service’, even though he didn’t try to stop us making jerks of ourselves out there?”

  Harric punched a chair to vent his frustration. “That two-faced weasel -”

  Garam stopped them. “Look, our reputations are trashed. I want a smoking gun before we go throwing accusations back in his face.” He stepped over to a small open-access computer station. “Let’s see what sort of access they left us. This isn’t a prison or anything.” He lit up the display. “They took all our personal comp gear at the security perimeter, but there has to be some sort of internal network for guests.” Garam tested a few more things. “Captain Andrews sliced off a lot of access from this terminal. I could send a local text message or do a simple data search.”

  Tegue scorned the idea. “A text to who?”

  Garam tapped his fingernails, when an image came to his mind of the only sympathetic face he had seen in the last few hours. ‘How profound the impact of a single kiss.’ He entered the text and hit send before he could think better of it.

  Harric badgered him, “You sent one out? To who? Garam, everyone out there thinks we’re dirt.”

  Jeremy shrugged, “I don’t know. A few might think we give dirt a bad name. Dirt has uses, even if none of those people out there ever see any of it staining their clothes.”

  Beyond the door, there was a mild commotion. Guards objecting. Someone else reminding them of relative levels of importance, and where guards were on that scale. Then, the sliding door parting to admit the silk covered form of Naia Monlier.

  She made the simple walk across the carpeted room look far better than even her black, ankle length dress should allow. She held up her palm-sized personal data-pad, still open to the message he had sent her. ‘Your fool needs a heroine. Please.’ The holo-vid star shook her head, a wry smile etched on her lips. “You are every bit as foolish as I thought. Maybe, a tad self-destructive.”

  Garam tried to stand again, and this time managed to find his wobbly feet. “You’ll have to forgive me, Miz Monlier. To put it simply, no one else seemed like they cared. Too many important egos are out there, so everyone is content to make this all go away nice and quiet.”

  One of her perfect eyebrows arched up near to her immaculately sculpted hair-line. “Why should you be allowed to cause any new noise?” Her tone made it clear he was rapidly expending whatever currency he had with her.

  Mercifully, the other three held their own tongues. Garam was quite certain that a single word from them and she would leave them to drown. Especially Harric, who had been the cause of her ride down the stairs in Garam’s arms.

  Yet even as he opened his mouth to ask her, he felt even more like an idiot. This was going to sound sooo stupid. But, she was there. ‘What’s the worst that could happen, other than her contempt withering my soul into a raisin?’ Garam met Naia’s eyes. “I need your help proving we were poisoned.”

  She nearly dissolved into laughter. “Excuse me?”

  Garam couldn’t help but see the humor in it, even caught up in the mix. “Think about it, Miz Monlier. I have a report right here claiming all four of us were hopped up on Nocturnan mushroom juice. We don’t know each other well, but I hope you’ll believe no group of cadets would be quite that brave or idiotic, whatever you want to call it. Yet somehow, it finds its way into us just in time to transform us into asinine caricatures
of ourselves in the middle of a cocktail party. At the same moment, our supervisor and the only person who could stop the catastrophe drinks himself into a total a stupor. None of it makes sense, but the problem is that everyone is rushing to save face for everyone we pissed off, all of whom just happen to have enough money to buy a battleship out of pocket change. Far easier to sweep our pitiful careers under the proverbial carpet.”

  Naia started off with an incredulous smile on her face, amazed at his audacity. As he spoke, she realized more and more he was serious. “Who would do that? You’d have to have a real enemy! Someone willing to risk their own career to destroy yours!”

  Garam nodded. “When you need a smoking gun, the best way to find it is to look to the only one in the room not bleeding from a bullet wound. Who’s missing?”

  Naia didn’t even glance around. She was famous, not a bimbo. “There was one more of you in the room.”

  “Right. His name’s Renny. Not sure what prompted him to do something this bold, but he’s in the other room actively trying to trash our reputations with that report of his.”

  Naia’s statuesque, pearl-smooth face froze in thought. She had no nervous energy to her. Even here, in what might pass as private, she played her part of the cool star on display. “If I was to act your heroine, then what does my fool need?”

  Garam didn’t feel the need to be that perfect. He returned her a conspiratorial grin. “Why, Milady, could I trouble you for your data-pad? I suspect they would have let you retain far more privileges than the average guest, and I need to access the security monitors around the party.”

  “The cameras?”

  He nodded. “I’m going to track Renny’s movements, and find the moment he slipped his personal addition into our cocktails. If I find that, well, then we can nail him to a wall instead of us.”

  She took a pair of measured strides toward him, like walking on the stage of a play. The scheme was awakening an instinctive flair for the dramatic in her. “If I do, they will know I am accessing the recordings. The privileges came with trust that I would only use them for personal business. I might never be allowed to keep them again.”