by Nic Plume
Taylor sat up, but Tonee, holding the discharged X-3 injector in one hand, halted his motion to stand.
"Let me up."
"No way. You’re in no—."
"I need to stand."
Tonee looked at Kaydeen for guidance.
She nodded, too exhausted to speak. Salayla didn’t look much better.
Tonee pulled Taylor onto his feet. Once he verified that Taylor could stand on his own, he returned the injector to its pouch and handed it to Taylor, who slid it back into his pant leg pocket. Taylor seemed as fit as he’d been when they had left the doctor’s office.
"What happened?" Tonee asked.
"He crashed," Kaydeen answered as she heaved herself to her feet, "and nearly let go."
Taylor looked at her, uncomprehending.
"I’m fine."
"Yes, now, but a few minutes ago, you were so far gone that I couldn’t even sense you. If Salayla hadn’t been here, I wouldn’t have been able to pull you back."
‘Dying’ wasn’t the correct word, at least not from a Din’s point of view. It was too simplistic, bespeaking only the physical act of the body shutting down, and not accounting for the person’s essence and will.
"Maybe I slept a little deeper than intended, but I’m fine, really."
"How dare you continue to feed us that line." Salayla pushed off the wall and stalked over. "It might have been justified the last few months, but not now, not here, and not us," she hissed through gritted teeth. "We are a team. Those were your words, were they not? They were a promise, an oath, a demand. We’ve lived by them—made them our mantra, our ethos. They’ve become our truth." She huffed. "It is time that they become yours. You will continue to fight, and we will keep you going. Period. That is what teammates do. They see each other through, to the end. The promise you made to get us out wasn’t yours alone. You know better. And you will not throw that away. We will get you home. Together, as a team." She paused. "Is that clear?"
Taylor nodded. Tonee stared at her.
Salayla turned to Kaydeen. "Are you all right?"
Kaydeen nodded, as amazed as Tonee at this new, severe side of Salayla.
"Good." Her voice softened. "I apologize for not shielding you. There was no time, and I am unsure if I could have done so." She smiled.
"I’m fine," Kaydeen assured her. "Thank you. I thought I had lost him."
"Why?" Salayla frowned. "You kept him from leaving."
"Me? I couldn’t even sense him."
"You must have, otherwise I couldn’t have reached him." Seeing Kaydeen frown, she elaborated, "Without your link, I wouldn’t have found him."
"My link?"
"You mean like bond-mates?" Tonee asked.
"No, nothing like a Bond." She hesitated. "Although, it did seem like a permanent connection."
"You realize you’re not making any sense, right?" Tonee said.
"What is a bond?" Nitus asked.
"The Din version of finding a lifemate," Tonee said. "It involves pheromones and ritualistic sex, and sometimes more than two people."
Nitus screwed up his face as his imagination turned Tonee’s exaggeration into the worst kind of mental pictures. Misconception-building at its best—one of Tonee’s specialties.
Mica took something completely different from Tonee’s words.
"I didn’t realize you were Din," he told Taylor.
"I’m not."
"Then how…"
"It’s rare, but not unheard of," Kaydeen said. "Our basic biology is the same, and Mother Dinai did leave us backward compatible." She directed the last part at Tonee.
"How nice of her," he replied dryly.
Kaydeen grinned.
"A Bond is a sacred lifelong commitment between two people," Salayla explained. "Usually Din. However, as Kaydeen mentioned, it isn’t unheard of for a Child of Dinai to Bond with a human, or other near-human race, although it is rare. It is invoked during sex, yes, but not with any kind of strange ritual, as some people like to make it sound." She eyed Tonee, who grinned in reply. "The best human term to describe a bond-mate," Salayla continued, "is soulmate."
"With the difference," Tonee added, "that humans don’t need to find their soulmate to become fertile."
"Correct."
"Mother’s way to keep the population in check,” Tonee quipped.
"We have evolved past the need for mass propagation." Salayla smiled at him.
"Kay and I are not Bonded." Taylor brought the subject back on track.
"Then, what other kind of permanent connection is there?" Tonee asked.
"None that I’m aware of," Salayla replied.
"Again, you’re not making any sense," Tonee complained.
"It’s unlike anything I’ve ever sensed before."
"Dean."
Commander Richards looked up at the sound of his first name. There weren't many people who knew it or would use it, at least not in public, and even fewer belonging to the Intergal military. But then, he wasn't on board a ship anymore, but dirtside on Tinaree. He looked down the cross-hallway he was passing and immediately identified the lanky stature of Doctor Aksel Mitalius bouncing toward him. As usual, the doctor's chestnut hair stood on end, his wild locks barely contained by one of the wide, colorful headbands he seemed so fond of.
"Aksel," Dean greeted him. "I’m happy to see you made it. After you missed the pickup points we had set up for yesterday afternoon, we grew concerned that you might have problems moving through the city. There’s still a lot of Traverse activity."
"No, no, I'm fine. A few patrols stopped me, but even the Traverse understands that a doctor needs to be able to travel, so I had all the required clearances to pass through the checkpoints I did encounter." He paused. "Although, I wish you hadn’t restricted my pickup to only my person."
"Well," Dean replied as they continued down the hallway, "as you said, your occupation gives credence to your need to travel, but having others tag along might raise suspicion. Plus, getting one person out is much easier than multiple." He paused. Bringing friends along didn’t seem to be what Mitalius was referencing.
"Do you mind my asking why you missed the first two pickups?"
"I was treating one of your Special Forces troopers."
"One of ours?" Dean stopped to look at him. "We didn't have anybody near your location, or we would’ve had them escort you out."
"No." Aksel shook his head. "One of your missing guys. From the first attack."
Dean’s brows drew together. "Did you get his ID?"
Aksel shook his head. "Sorry. I didn't think about it. They showed up late morning while I was getting ready to leave. Surprised the hell out of me when the back door rang. Couldn't see much through the camera feed—the boys had inadvertently placed themselves to block my view of the stairway. All I saw was that somebody was standing behind them, but not who or that they were armed. And the other two had kept their distance, so seeing them on the landings above and below mine, armed with rifles, was a shock. And then finding out that the patient had been shot with a plasma slug and that the medic had dug the plasma out of the wound with her bare fingers…" He trailed off. "You know I'm a pediatrician. I treat tummy aches, colds, broken bones, and such. I'm not used to handling acid that eats its victim from the inside out. And I'm definitely not used to first responders who willingly stick their bare hands into other people’s abdomens to scoop that shit out."
"Slow down, Doctor. Let's find a better place to talk—"
"There’s no time," Aksel interrupted him. "The young man was dying. I stabilized him and gave his friends the supply of X-3 I had on hand to keep him going, but he needs to be evacuated."
"Understood." Dean nodded. "But if they made it until now, they’re able to make it a little longer. And right now, I don’t have a clear enough picture of what happened to start a rescue mission. Let's find a quiet corner so you can tell me exactly what happened."
Aksel stared at him for a moment, as if deciding if he co
uld be trusted to not waste his time, and then reluctantly nodded.
"Fine," he huffed. "But something better get done. And I don’t want to hear the same excuses the other officer gave me."
"Who did you talk to?" Dean led Aksel back the direction they’d come from. This issue clearly had to be resolved before Aksel would be willing or able to concentrate on the upcoming planning meetings he was scheduled to attend. And the hustle and bustle of the hallway wouldn’t be conducive to calming the man down.
"I don't know. Some know-it-all who was trying to herd me to the conference room. He absolutely refused to call you, even after I told him who I was. He kept saying that I could talk to you at the meeting. I don't know if he purposefully ignored my point that this couldn't wait, or if that got lost in translation."
Dean led the way to an office that served as workstation and resting place for him and Robert while dirtside. It was a little cluttered with the two cots they had added to the desk, cabinets, and three chairs already filling the small space, but being space-faring, they’d made themselves comfortable in much tighter quarters before. Aksel, on the other hand, was clearly used to more spacious accommodations. He looked around in confusion, taking note of the personal bags lying on the cots.
"Somebody lives in here?" He carefully moved through the cramped space, taking care to not come too close to the cots.
"Yes," Dean replied. "My assistant and I."
"Oh. Well. Then I guess it's okay for us to use it." Aksel visibly relaxed.
Dean smiled. Leave it to a Tinareean to be oversensitive about possibly invading someone’s sanctum.
He went to the makeshift drink station on the corner cabinet behind the desk and poured two glasses of water.
"Is water okay?" he asked over his shoulder.
"Water?" Aksel's tone rose an octave. "Of course."
Dean grabbed the two glasses and placed them on the desk, then motioned for Aksel to sit in one of the chairs in front of the desk while he took the other.
Dean spent the next half-hour getting every detail of the encounter in Aksel's office.
22
Rendezvous
The team encountered more Traverse patrols as they approached the RV point and diverted through a building. They found the building’s access point to the rail system unlocked and decided to follow its tunnel to the station under Tortiga Plaza. In the tunnel, they encountered an even larger Traverse presence. With their path forward blocked, the team returned to the building and made their way onto its third floor, the lowest of its ten housing levels. Since the blocks in the area were all similar heights and connected via skyways at diverse levels, the team would be able to reach the plaza by staying aboveground.
Kaydeen took point while Salayla scouted ahead and Tonee stayed on drag. Taylor’s condition continued to deteriorate, and he often stopped to catch his breath or used the walls for support. Two blocks from the plaza, Taylor had weakened to the point of needing continuous support. Kaydeen called for a rest. Taylor refused—they were too close to stop now. Tonee settled the argument in Taylor’s favor. Kaydeen wasn’t happy but relented. They moved on.
As they entered the last block, Salayla returned with the news that a Traverse squad was crossing into their building via a lower skywalk. The team had planned to cross this block through its center courtyards, which would also give them direct access to the Plaza. But with an enemy force with thrice their fighting capability and guns roaming the floors below them, Tonee decided to continue using the upper floors. Taylor’s head snapped up as if ready to argue, but he didn’t voice it. Instead, his eyes tightened and flickered to the teens. On anyone else, Kaydeen would have called the expression apprehensive. Before she could ask him about it, he pushed off the wall he’d been resting against and started in the direction Tonee had indicated.
Tonee stepped out of his way and watched as Mica hurried to duck under Taylor’s arm and settled it across his shoulders. Tonee’s gaze hovered on the clammy, pale skin of Taylor’s trembling hand before looking at her. He didn’t put words to it, but his concern was clear. She wholeheartedly agreed—they needed to get Taylor to a medical facility as soon as possible. He was declining rapidly, and none of the doses she’d administered since his crash had done more than slow the process by a fraction.
"How many doses do you have left?" Tonee asked as she stepped beside him.
"One."
While most of Intergal’s ground units were fighting Traverse forces, Commander Chick-Chara’s unit was charged with evacuating personnel the Intel section had designated as essential to Tinaree’s future stability, their families, and family members of frontline Resistance fighters.
The unit used four troop transports—heavily-armed and armored ships able to quickly move a squad and their equipment—to reach and secure each RV point during its designated time slot. Perimeter guards allowed only unarmed people to approach and used scanners to verify their identities before approving them to approach a transport.
Two transports carrying evacuees would take them to battlecruiser Lima for further vetting while the rest of the unit moved on to secure the next RV.
The evacuations went as smoothly as could be expected in the middle of a war zone, and they were able to keep to the set timetable without much delay—until they reached Mannahe.
The large city was a cesspool of pitfalls. Small units of Traverse and mercs popped up throughout the city, giving Intergal a hell of a time trying to clear it. Tortiga Plaza promised to do the same for Chick-Chara’s unit.
This close to the city center, the blocky buildings averaged fourteen stories tall, which turned the streets into tight canyons crisscrossed with skywalks that connected neighboring buildings at different levels.
His pilots were good, but the transports were too bulky to maneuver this maze with speed. That approach would turn them into lumbering behemoths that gave the enemy more than enough time to notice and target. Instead, they’d opted for a vertical landing, which his pilot had turned into a free-fall ride from hell.
It had taken a few deep breaths for Chick-Chara to sort himself out and verify that his internal organs were in their correct locations again. The pilot’s stupid broad grin came across loud and clear when he commed to report all systems in the green, and inquired about the location of his CO’s breakfast. That, at least, explained why Chick-Chara had been under such scrutiny since they’d entered atmosphere.
Luckily, they were on a private channel, so their exact exchange should stay off the unit’s gossip band. But from the smirks around him, his tart grumble of a reply would not. Whatever it took to keep up the troops’ morale.
Chick-Chara shook off his seat’s crash webbing and stood. Weapons ready, the advance team was already heading down the still-opening ramp with the next team ready to follow. A few minutes later, the perimeter was secure and the defenses set. Different location, same process. Not one order was needed, as each trooper knew their—and probably everybody else’s—responsibility by heart. Although Chick-Chara was sure there was plenty of communication going on as his troopers kept each other informed.
"RV is secure," The unit’s XO, Stell, reported. "As expected, the first sensor scan barely penetrated into the buildings lining the plaza. The techs are working on going deeper. Third Squad made contact with the first evacuees and is vetting credentials."
"How long until the scans will penetrate the required minimal distance?"
"Unsure. There seems to be some interference—"
Chick-Chara’s head snapped up. "Physical or signal?"
"Also unsure. The techs aren’t getting a clear picture."
That got Chick-Chara’s attention. The continuing development of new tech to either nullify or beat the opposition’s tech was a constant in any war, and this one was no exception.
After Intergal had gained air dominance and grounded all non-Intergal air traffic the day before, the Traverse had used the Tinareean comm system for cyber attacks on the infrastructu
re. They’d also thrown some malware against Intergal systems connected to the local Net. Intergal had replied in kind, so the cyberwar over the local data streams was in full swing and the Tinareean comm network essentially out of service for the duration.
As a result, the Intergal units within atmosphere had to rely on an ad-hoc web built by the comms of individual personnel and vehicles within reach of each other. This restricted who one could talk to and how far a unit could spread out. The buildings around them didn’t help the situation.
In the beginning, they’d been able to use the well-established net of cameras that gave good coverage of all public spaces, but with the public comm net shut down, the cameras were also out of service. Drones helped, but it took a lot of drones to extend the ad-hoc Net into the buildings. His ships’ sensors had become Chick-Chara’s preferred method to scan the buildings around him.
It wasn’t a simple "scan once and see everything" type of deal. It was more of a "scan, evaluate, adjust, and repeat" type as there were far too many solid surfaces made up of different materials, but the time it took to build a clear picture of the immediate surroundings was within acceptable limits.
However, if the Traverse had found a way to interfere with those scans, or the scanners themselves…
"I want Two back in the air," he told Stell. "Let’s see if they can punch through from an angle."
"You want them to fly over the courtyards for visuals?"
"No." Chick-Chara shook his head. "If the interference is coming from Traverse, then that’s an ambush waiting to happen."
Kaydeen took point again as they made their way through the housing level toward Tortiga Plaza. Meanwhile, Salayla continued to scout their surroundings to keep an eye out for Traverse patrols and to locate an egress point to the plaza. She found the latter in the form of a series of alcoved, multi-tiered patios that stepped down to the first floor. From there, it would be a short climb to reach the plaza.