Gunship (56 page)

“What?” she asked him, curious to see what he was thinking.

“Duv told me you were recruiting your own squadron.” He smiled, a twinkle in his eye. “I think he must have been mistaken, though. I see a whole wing before me.”

Reilly shrugged and shot him a brief grin back, but sobered quickly as she watched the steady line of people coming forward.

“I think we’ll have a good bunch, Gunny. It’s just a shame that we have to keep calling on the same people to fight on behalf of everyone. Look there”—Reilly pointed out a man in his midtwenties—“that’s Brant Murddock. His grandfather was in the ISUs as a commander, and his dad was one of my trainers when I was a new lieutenant. His whole family has been fighting for this galaxy for decades.”

“We aren’t calling on the same people,” Chang said thoughtfully. “It is these people who chose to hear the call. They chose to devote themselves to something bigger, the cause of peace. None of them want to fight, to leave their families or their homes. But they understand. They don’t take what they have for granted. They realize that what we have is worth fighting for, and if we don’t stand up to defend it, it will be lost, maybe forever. None of them can stand idly by or lower their eyes from injustice. For them, it is a matter of character. They would rather die than live falsely, hiding in safety while others suffer under tyranny or abuse.”

Reilly studied Chang’s face briefly as she took in his words. He had a way of seeing into the truth of everything and finding wisdom that often eluded her. He looked back at her stoically before speaking again.

“They answer the call, however, because it came from you. No, don’t try to hide from it. These people know you and what you have done for the galaxy. They also know if you ask them for help, ask them to fight, that it is no little thing, because they understand how much you value life. They understand how much you value their lives and that you won’t just carelessly toss them into the fight. They volunteer out of respect for you and what you have sacrificed. You need to understand this, especially remember this in the days to come. You have entered into an agreement with them, and you both must be at your best, so one does not let the other down.”

Reilly understood what the old gunny was saying. She was their commander now, and they were all pledging to fight and, if needed, to die for her. She was responsible for them, in life or in death, and to their families, who would also be sacrificing. She couldn’t afford to be distracted or to have a bad day. They would all be looking to her, counting on her, watching her to see how she handled the pressure. She had to perform at her best from here on out.

She nodded. “I know, Gunny. I won’t let them down.”

He smiled again briefly. “That is why I follow you, why we all do.” His gesture encompassed the new volunteers as well. “Which is why I think your first task must be to go get some rest.”

Reilly met his gaze reluctantly. He was right, but sleep was hard to come by right now. She nodded and gripped his arm briefly as she turned to head in. Trace came up behind her on his silent cat feet, startling her.

“Sorry.” He frowned briefly, recalling their last discussion and how he had badly upset her. “I figured I’d walk with you before you hit the rack. I wanted to tell you that was pretty amazing.”

Reilly looked at him to see if he was teasing her. He wasn’t. She nodded quietly as they walked to the common room and poured a cup of coffee. Trace reached in and took it from her, laughing when she shot him a “What the hell?” look.

“I thought you were supposed to be coming up here to crash. Don’t think this will help you out with that much,” he remarked as he took a gulp.

She eyed him irritably. He was right, of course. The problem was she still hadn’t been able to shake the images completely. When she closed her eyes they came back again, not as bad as before, but enough. The only way to stop them was to be bone tired, so tired that her body shut her brain down, shut her down even if she tried to resist. A tranq would do the same, but sometimes towards the end she would try to wake but couldn’t, because the drugs kept pushing her back under. Reilly hated that feeling—not being able to come out of sleep made her feel trapped and helpless. She realized Trace was still watching her, studying her, as he drank her coffee. She threw up her hands in frustration.

“Fine! But I need to decompress first before I even attempt sleep.”

Trace reached into his pocket and pulled out a box of cards, waving them at her while he continued with his coffee. She rolled her eyes and snatched them out of his hand, sitting as he pulled up a seat at the table. Reilly shuffled and dealt three hands, setting one aside as a ghost hand so they could play Naromian draw. The goal was to achieve the lowest score in the game, with star cards giving the players the ability to cancel one high-numbered card. Pentagons and pyramids were the highest values, while circles and cubes made up the lower values. A number of other shapes and designs completed the range in between. They both focused on the game, pausing only to make small talk with the crew as they prepared to head into town. After several hands, Reilly got up to stretch and put on the digital player, the music softly echoing bluegrass and country or rock in the background. Trace poured himself another cup of coffee, and she negotiated a cup of tea. They sat back down and he prepared to deal.

“I’d like to hear some of those good stories you mentioned,” Reilly said in between sips of tea, “about Jeremy.”

Trace paused and shot her a scrutinizing look. “I heard about what happened…after our talk. I know it’s not the same, but still…are you sure talking about it won’t make it worse? I’m trying to avoid ticking off your doctor.”

Reilly winced briefly. She should have known her flashbacks would have gotten back to Trace. Tiny, Chang, and Ty would have been the first to let Trace know the impact he had had so they could ensure it wouldn’t happen again. She thought about his question. Talking about it could trigger the flashbacks again, but there was also a chance that good memories would give her something to focus on in place of the bad. She told Trace this, and he nodded thoughtfully as he dealt the next hand.

“When I first got the job, working as Captain Gray’s—I mean Jeremy’s pilot, I was nervous as anything. Everyone knew he was this big hero, even though he always played it down. So for the first few weeks, I was pretty locked up, trying to make a good impression. He never said a word. He’d come in, watch me for a bit, and then go. So I had no idea if I was doing good or bad, if he liked me or he didn’t. He had me sweating like this for two weeks. One day he comes by and he tells me we have a ground mission and he needs me to drive one of the TORRs. So we land and I gear up and go to the mission brief. Jeremy runs us all through the plan, and it’s pretty hairy. Then, as everybody is getting ready to go, he walks up to me and shakes my hand and says, ‘Well, it’s been nice knowing you.’ Then he turns and walks off. We had just enough time for me to run in to hit the head before we had to leave, which was good because he scared the piss right out of me. Turns out it was just a milk run and we needed two TORRs for the extra crates. Everybody else knew except for me. I had my head on a swivel the entire time until we got back, and then the whole crew just fell out. How they kept it in that long I don’t know, they really got me good.”

Trace shook his head admiringly as he finished while Reilly laughed. They continued to play and he kept telling her stories. The time Jeremy had put activated charcoal from a broken bio filter on all of the night-vision goggles, so when they got back everyone had raccoon eyes. Or the time he had disguised himself as a local and had done such a good job of it that the locals came up and warned him to stay away from the next valley because there was an ISU gunship parked there. The leadership from one planet gave him a pet iguanosaur, a reptile that looked like a cross between an iguana and a dinosaur.

“Jeremy had wanted to keep the thing, but no one could tell him what it ate. So we tried giving it vegetation, then fruits, then meat, but the thing didn’t ever seem to eat any of it, yet it kept getting bigger. So finally we decide to follow it around one day to see where it goes, and the thing goes right down to the bay and starts eating a box of metal tools. It turned out they can eat and process metals, and it had been steadily working its way through the ship’s spare parts, tools, magazines, and ammo. Jeremy got rid of it the next time we made port, because none of us were sure what kind of effect ammo would have on it or if the thing was arming itself to take over the ship!”

Reilly glanced at the clock, surprised to see that three hours had already flown by. Her sides hurt from laughing, but it felt good. It was the first time in a long time she had been able to relax and enjoy herself. Trace wiped his eyes, still chuckling, and refilled his mug. They had stopped playing cards an hour ago in favor of talking, and Reilly had moved into the old leather armchair while Trace rocked and balanced animatedly in one of the wooden table chairs as he told his stories. Some of them she had heard before, but others were new to her. She craved these the most, because their details made it seem like Jeremy was still alive. They helped her remember something other than his death, and they made her happy. She pulled an old military blanket out of the bin next to the chair and threw it on while Trace began talking again about some more of Jeremy’s funny escapades.

“Then we left, but Jeremy didn’t tell us he had placed a remote camera. So when we get back to the ship, he turns on the video feed and there is the black-market dealer running around screaming and pulling on his hair, and as he opens every drawer in the room, they all start overflowing with foam. Jeremy had put frozen aerosol cans with foam sealant in them and then sliced the sides with a razor so when they thawed out, the foam started to expand and fill up the drawers! We were laughing so hard I could barely take off, because with every drawer he opened the foam kept growing and growing until you could barely see the guy, just the top of his head and his hands as he kept running back and forth screaming!”

Trace wiped his eyes again and looked at Reilly. She was fast asleep in the leather chair, a smile on her face. It occurred to him that, sleeping, she looked like a different person, not the tough, gunslinging captain who had just recruited her own wing of ships to go fight in a war that seemed impossible to win. She looked peaceful, relaxed, and for the first time since he had met her, she looked happy. Trace finished off his coffee and crashed on the couch, pulling another blanket from the bin for himself. He kicked back and began to whittle a small piece of wood with his knife, pleased that he had made her smile, enjoying the moment and the high from the good memories.

—————

The Tether waited impatiently. She should have been back by now. The transmitter still showed as active, so she was alive, just delayed. The sun set and the desert grew dark. Finally, the implant returned.

“Well?” the Tether demanded.

“It’s her. She came out briefly to address the town. She is recruiting for the war, and from the talk, she has already gained enough support to form a wing of her own.”

He turned, stalking across the bridge as he took in this new information. The team could easily sign up and stow aboard the ships as new recruits. Once they arrived at their end destination, they would be able to direct him to the rest of the ISU forces and perhaps even to Zain himself. Plus, having Campbell as a captive again would definitely please his employer.

The Tether turned. “Did you see Joby Ty there?”

The implant paused, remembering. “No, he wasn’t there, but the rest of the regular crew was. Chang, Jackson, and a new hire named Marek. I didn’t see the girl, either.”

The Tether paced, frustrated. If only he could get Campbell into the open. “They are worthless to me, not even worth the price of the round needed to take them out. What else?”

“That was all. There were some invitations made to the crew for the Armistice Day celebration, but none of them confirmed that they would attend.”

That gave him an idea. He turned, eyeing the implant.

“You knew the crew. What would happen if one of them were injured or attacked?”

“Captain Campbell and the others would come for them.” The implant confirmed his suspicion.

He nodded once and entered some code into his handheld. “Then you know what to do.”

“I do,” she agreed as she turned and walked out into the dark.

The Tether smirked. Hopefully, if all went well, he would have Campbell in his grasp shortly. If it didn’t, well, then he would be short one implant, but since he had a whole team of implants, what difference would the loss of one really make? He began sending out code to the others, setting his plan in motion.

—————

It hit while she was showing Ty how to improve the firing rate of his battle rifle. The sudden, white-hot, blinding pain behind her right temple that let her know she had waited too long. Tiny put her hand to her head and winced, waving Ty off as he clumsily tried to get to his feet to reach where she stood.

“It’s all right, I’m all right. Just have to take care of something. Be right back.”

She ignored his concerned questions and wandered out of the cargo bay, up the catwalk towards medical. Once there, she pulled out her handset and opened a channel. He was already waiting.

“Sir, I had intended to contact you earlier, but we had wounded and the ship was damaged.”

“I don’t need excuses, I need answers,” Zain growled through the handheld. “Seth Jackson—where is he?”

Tiny finished rubbing the rest of the pain out, looking at the Commander in surprise. “He’s not with us. He helped us escape from Alton and Welch at the space station. But he didn’t return with us. I thought you had sent him.”

Tiny watched with interest as Zain worked to hide his anger and frustration. She also noted that he didn’t bother to hide the fact that he had known Welch would be there. Mock surprise would’ve been wasted on her anyway. He knew and he didn’t warn them. She tucked that knowledge away to analyze later.