Song of the Seeker (Lady Hellgate Book 7), page 24
“Will he … be the same?” Cilas asked. He’d known of many spacers with heart failure coming from chemicals or failed experiments from the Geralos, and most couldn’t return. Having come to rely on him so heavily as a veteran of their small team, losing Quentin could be too much for his small team.
“The information I received tells me yes,” Cleia said, “But if he’s sent back to us, I will request he be transferred to Rendron with a minimum of six Vestalian months grounded. I would ask that you be a partner to me in this, Captain. We both know none of your Nighthawks are willing to stay out of it, particularly if you are still here. Some of his recovery will be indicative of your choices as well. They all look up to you and I believe you know this, so what I am about to say … please hear me out. The survival of the team could very well come down to this.”
“Please continue,” he urged, curious to hear what she had to say.
Before responding, she met his eyes with her own, and what he saw behind her gaze was a deep concern. The sort of concern he was feeling for his Nighthawk’s fate. “You look haggard,” she said under her breath. It wasn’t something either of them wanted to be overheard by any of the rates. “I don’t know where you find the energy to continue chaining these sleepless cycles together, but it cannot persist. Let me give you something to sleep. Take it whenever you want, and in half an hour, you will lose consciousness and stay under for at least six hours. Find a way to spare that time—Raileo is back, so maybe he could help?”
“Ina’s it with Helga out,” he replied. “She can manage things in my absence. I’ve been working out of my cabin a lot, and can take the time if sleep will come, like you say. We are on the eve of this mission, and my mind refuses to stop until we have all our people back and are underway. Having you and Ray back helps tremendously. I find that it’s the lack of knowing that is affecting my sleep. As captain, you worry about scenarios such as this one. Q out of commission, Helga and Sundown as silent as the void until recently… Anders.” He sighed heavily. “Six hours it is. Doc, will I dream?”
“Most do, but I will be prescribing a few of the exercises we give to highly stressed spacers to help you get back to the center of control I’m used to seeing,” she said, reaching out to put a hand on his arm. “I’m not the only one to notice your weariness. So, if you think to change your mind on taking it, think of the effect this will have on the crew, seeing their captain reinvigorated and back to being his old self.”
Cilas thanked her and, after some lighter conversation, escorted her to her medbay. Afterward, he visited each station to get a measure of his crew. All gave him their best face, masking their weariness or frustration from the constant drills Ina had them running since he’d asked her to. They knew what was at stake, but it had come after many cycles of double duty repairing their corvette. It was late; at this time, he would have retired to his cabin, working in any other cycle. He was out of uniform but dressed neatly in comfortable spacer pants over soft-soled mag-boots and a matching gray Alliance-branded t-shirt.
His destination was the armory to look in on his Nighthawk, Raileo Lei. The slim, dark-haired Vestalian was inside the cage where Quentin was normally a fixture, staring down at a rifle he had recently stripped. “Rend of Rendron. What’re you doing down here in the lower decks at this hour, brother?”
“Came to ask about the wedding,” Cilas said, greeting him warmly.
“Oh, thype you, with all due respect.” Raileo laughed. “I could ask you the same.”
“Looks like you’re all settled. We haven’t had a chance to chat since your return.” He sat at one of the benches, watching the chief meticulously scrutinize his weapon, consulting a diagram projected on his right for instructions on the alterations.
“I can’t know what you’re feeling, Cilas, and I won’t pretend to either, having Nighthawks go silent when there’s orders pending. You like things neat, and we both know this is going to be messy. As for me, I’m alright, brother. I know that’s why you came down here. Like I told you before when you apologized for pulling me off leave: getting Kur out of the lizards’ hands made it worth it—even Cleia agrees. We belong here. This is precisely the type of operation that made me sign up for BLAST.”
“Aye,” Cilas agreed. “Same here. It’s the type of non-complicated rescue op that gets sourced into fiction for vids and simulated experiences. Still, when this is all done, Captain Sho promises to make it up to us. You all will take leave—real leave, with no fear of interruptions barring someone’s death.” He snapped his fingers loudly in a gesture of good-luck summoning. “Me, I will be returning to Rendron so this old girl can get the refit she’s owed. So, when you return, it won’t be to creaks and sour attitudes for the work she requires to thrust straight.”
Raileo had an open bottle of a hot liquor he’d brought back from his brief trip with Cleia, and after gesturing to it and Cilas consenting, he poured them both a glass and knocked it back quickly. His weary commander, who would have taken anything to take off the edge, repeated the motion, gulping it down. He had expected it to be thick like Genesian wines, served hot and steaming, but this vintage was lighter, initially sour, but delightfully sweet on the back end. Furthermore, its body produced a nice, warm feeling in his limbs. “I was just with the doctor going over the report she received on Quentin. Where did you two end up?”
Raileo, who had taken a break from his tinkering to pour another glass, clicked his tongue. “You know Cleia. It was going to be either a forgotten strip of land on a moon or planet, or somewhere she could play savior to people who need it. We went with the latter, and returned to the cluster. My leave was spent inside a clinic at Siuva Station. Sol-Snap terror squads did a number on their facilities. Aid from Genese has been slow, the demands of the Alliance playing a large part in that. We were there to assist wherever we could. Dr. Rai’to treating the wounded, and me as her sharp-eyed assistant.”
“Sounds like you got about as much rest as I did.”
The sniper laughed. He was unused to his commander being so casual. “It wasn’t as bad as I let on, really. We’d work a few hours, going where we were needed, and the rest of the cycles we did other things. I got to see an opera; a real opera put on by professionals. That was one of the perks, actually. We got the invitation from Pivotal Prava Lor Del, the station’s controller. When he heard we were from Ursula and had come on our own, he gave us the treatment. I felt like an important ambassador or diplomat. Didn’t stop at the performance either. Oh boy, did that Genesian spoil us. A captain’s accommodations, food, and shows of appreciation wherever we went. Cleia thinks they’re working on getting us citizenship, if we wanted it.”
“Ambassador Lei now,” Cilas contributed with a grin.
Raileo grew serious and asked, “Rend, how would you rate me at the head of a team?”
“Good question. Funny, whenever I think of you in a fight, it’s away from the rest of us, keeping the enemy on their toes with that rifle. Still, I believe you’re a natural leader, Ray. Saw that with Kimonat. Tutt told me how you took point on the Mills thing and got him talking. You’re better with people than I could ever hope to be, and your service record is stellar. Having some doubts? What makes you ask?”
Raileo shrugged. “I’ve been floating it around inside my head for a long time now, but I’m thinking of going for my wings. It would mean six months of qualification at the Alliance Officer’s Academy, but I hope there will still be a place for me on the team in case I burn out.”
Cilas felt his heart lurch, but he set it right with a well-timed sip. He was excited to hear Raileo wanted to advance his career, but it meant losing the best sniper he’d ever known. Retzo Sho’s warning, Quentin’s health, and now Raileo wanted to become an officer. Bad news came in bunches; he was no stranger to that notion. However, all these strikes against his team were beginning to feel personal. Finishing the glass and deciding it was enough, he gave the sniper a long, measured look and nodded in approval of his assessment.
“Timing stinks, to be honest, but we can’t control that, not when we’re constantly in the schtill. Captain Sho believes the Alliance wants to make ESO teams a thing of the past, in lieu of something more organized and connected. If his hunch is correct, we may be on borrowed time. Ray, if you’re no longer a Nighthawk, I would hope you’re at the head of your own team. Nothing else makes sense for a man of your talents.”
“They’re thinking of breaking us up? That doesn’t make sense,” Raileo responded offhandedly. “We’re the most effective ESO team going, and it’s barely five of us, officially speaking. Do they understand that our success comes from us being together all these years? Or do they assume we follow some formula they could simply replicate across the fleet to make deadly efficient spacers?”
Fanning the air before him, Cilas leaned back and studied the diagram Raileo kept consulting. “What is this weapon? Looks like a sniper rifle fused with an auto, and is that a second clip behind the first?”
“You got it,” he responded cheerfully. “This schematic modifies the Widow Maker to go semi-auto, pulling from a second clip. There’s a reason I prefer cryo rounds over everything. One of my earliest drops, before signing on, I hit a target clean, zing, right through the neck. Fatal, you’d think. Well, so did I, and I cycled targets. Started lining up my shot on a second, and wouldn’t you know, the one from before put a shot centimeters above my skull. Genesian trash armor, I was in new boots. Hadn’t quite earned my PAS yet. Since then, I don’t take chances. One shot, one kill. These lizards, they aren’t built like us.”
“What would you do before when you’re being pressed?”
“Aim like my life depended on it,” he joked. “If they’re coming in too hot, I have the heavy cannon as my backup and a second inside my pack. Seriously though, Rend. How will the team fare if I do the test?”
“Don’t ask me that, Ray,” Cilas muttered. “I don’t want to feel guilty if you change your mind and you end up like Tutt, or worse, with nothing to fall back on but your service record if I’m no longer here. Go get your wings, brother, and return.” He swirled his drink and considered his words and how they would look to a third party. “It’s like I’m sitting here betting against myself.” He laughed. “We all need a break, a real break, and while we’re on one, if you’re in training, really, you wouldn’t miss much.”
“Sounds like you’re trying to talk yourself into it, Commander. Just give it to me for real. It’s just us inside this cage, and I was hoping to get your honesty. It means a lot more than you probably think.”
Cilas gave his Nighthawk a long, measured look, putting the captain act to the side to assess him as a field commander. “Fine. I’ll just come out and say it. You’ve come a long way since we met, Ray. I can tell you’re committed to this. Since busting your rear on Meluvia with Helga staying on your schtill to take things seriously, you’ve honed your skills and put in the work to become one of the best operators I’ve known. I mean that, Nighthawk.
“Your building this weapon, even now, shows me how much you care to win. Damn right, you should become an officer. You proved that many times over when the situation required you to take charge. Getting Tutt and Anders clear of Kimonat, not only with your aim, but rallying the guards against that invasion, that’s what makes an officer. You knew what needed to get done and you didn’t need to be told; you led that day. I want you to know it’s been a privilege being your commander and seeing the growth over so many operations.”
Raileo was stunned, stopping his work to regard Cilas hesitantly. “I think that’s the most you’ve ever said to me in one shot, Commander, but that struck home. I can’t even joke about it. Maybe it’s whatever’s in this drink,” he smirked and took another long swig.
“Just tell me I won’t be losing my doctor as well while you’re out getting fitted for this new commission,” Cilas said.
“Doubt it. Hell, I’m sure of it, but Cleia is more likely to make Tutt her focus while I’m out of the picture. She’s convinced no one knows how to care for him like his own ship’s physician. You don’t understand just how personally she took his injury. He thinks going up against those lizards was tough, I don’t know if he understands what he has coming. She’s set to tear him a new extraction point with her quips.”
Cilas laughed at the thought of the tiny Traxian physician scolding a bedridden Quentin Tutt for wanting to train. A scenario that didn’t take any stretch of the imagination. “It’s so funny because I can see it, clear as this bottle,” he said, hoisting what remained of the vintage. His expression sobered when he noticed Ensign Jun Sunchar on the other side of the barrier and her apologetic gestures for interrupting them. She held out her hand, passing him a pad with the Alliance council’s logo displayed prominently on its screen. It could mean only one thing: he was being invited to a conference.
“My thanks, Ensign.” He forced a polite smile, trying to hide his aggravation, then turned to Raileo. “Give what I said some thought, Nighthawk, but a word of advice: speak to other spacers who’ve gone through the transition before you commit. You’ll find that while you gain the responsibility and respect of an officer, the Alliance will demand more from you, and it doesn’t slow down. Talk it out, make your decision, and know I’m rooting for you all the way.”
28
It had taken two full cycles of waiting in Seryac space for the Britz to get jump coordinates from Ursula. The planet’s gravity complicated this, and a tether was required in addition to the system doing the necessary calculations for a successful docking. Though Helga had done this hundreds of times, from simulations to dogfights with zip-ships in several situations, it was never easy.
Coming off the trip they’d recently had, there was nothing that would stop her from getting back to her crew and cabin–oh, how she had missed that cabin. They received a warm welcome, with nearly every crew member waiting below the ramp to greet them when the Britz was settled on the hangar’s deck. It was a quick reunion, mostly because she and Sundown were exhausted. Rest would come in the last shift of the cycle since the culinary genius Chief Faruq Mas-Umbra had prepared a special meal now that all except Quentin had returned.
Sundown and Helga were welcomed with various exotic dishes representing several planets. From Vestalia, there was a large pot of fragrant pea soup, a platter of worn-roasted vegetables, and golden fried fish fillets served over a tall pyramid of lemon-scented puffed rice. There was also a plate stacked high with warm sa’an bread—a Casanian staple—and bowls full of grains, powders, and sauces to taste. Succulent dishes such as fried Genesian Urakh boar soaked in a milky marinade, Basce City meat skewers—Fio Doro’s favorite, and steaming pots of several soups representing Virulia and Traxis. It felt like every allied planet was represented.
Ursula was headed for the rally point and would be cruising for a cycle to allow the Alliance flagship to be in place before jumping in. Cilas had given all but essential crew the cycle to relax, and most sat around reshuffled tables arranged inside the galley. Officers, Nighthawks, and guests sat at a long table in the rear, and on the far side of the buffet was another arrangement to allow the rates to sit and share this rare meal with their mates. Helga had very little appetite for reasons she couldn’t explain but hid it well by engaging with everyone there. Seated next to her were Fio Doro, Cleia Rai’to, and Ina Reysor, the three women she considered friends.
“How was your trip to Virulia, Ate?” Raileo asked once they had been seated, served, and having banter around the table. Helga looked at Sundown, hoping he would take the lead on this topic, fearing she would say too much and be forced to lie or twist enough of the truth to keep her Seeker business secret. Sundown, however, didn’t seem up to the task. Since hearing about Quentin, his mood had lapsed, and his dark face bore the expression of a man who would rather be left alone to enjoy his meal.
“I’ll give you the juicy bits later, Ray,” she deflected, and meant it. Since she was now semi-officially linked to the Jumpers, her fear of becoming a lab experiment for the Alliance was no longer present. Whenever time permitted and there was no mission on their minds, she intended to tell the Nighthawks what she was. “I learned about the history of Anstractor, but it’s not much more than what we were taught as cadets. I saw some of their training, and that was fascinating. The leader sort of made me an ambassador for the Alliance, so I got to see the facilities, though they hid all of the exciting stuff.”
She went into detail on her tour, describing the facility until she felt it was going on too long. She quickly finished by sharing her thoughts on Gorlitsu, her only real impression of Virulia and its people. Cleia, who had been hanging on every word, asked about the wildlife and Jumper science, and Helga shared what little she had experienced with the doctor. Wanting out from the spotlight of everyone’s attention, Helga turned to Anders, who sat two seats down from Fio, and said, “How was your trip, Stratus?” Some laughed, knowing what she aimed at since his mountain climbing adventure had become common knowledge.
After clearing his throat and flashing a handsome smile at Jun, he explained that as a boy, he had dreamed of climbing Mount Monahagne, one of the more scenic peaks on Ci’mar Saryk-3, Genese. That earned him a look of incredulity from Fio Doro, their native, planet-based Genesian, who said, “Is living in a can sucking oxygen through tubes so boring you go looking for death on my planet?” She said this so loudly it earned her a round of laughter from every table since most agreed.
Anders, who tended to ignore most of what Fio threw at him, continued as if she hadn’t said anything. “I’ve got a Genesian buddy, a former ranger, who offered to take me, and I took her up on it. Don’t get me wrong, I didn’t go into it ignorant if that’s what you’re thinking.” He gave Cilas a quick, measured smile and continued. “I’ve done tougher climbs on simulations.”
