Witch Of The Federation IV (Federal Histories Book 4), page 39
If the teams beyond the door needed assistance, they’d signal. They hadn’t and they weren’t, and their dots on the scanner were a healthy green—which was more than he could say for the dots indicating pirates. Those blinked out at a rapid rate.
Given that, he decided that the sooner they captured the bridge, the sooner they’d have the hostile crew under control. Most surrendered when their leadership was gone.
He pushed away the stories of those who hadn’t. If there was a Teloran on board, they were all screwed. That kind of shit needed Stephanie and she was systems away.
“Go!” he shouted when Gary reached the door and hesitated.
The man cracked it open and peered out. When his curious face wasn’t met with a hail of rounds, he slipped into the corridor beyond. His hoarse whisper reached them moments later.
“All clear.”
Jimmy and Reggie slid after him, followed by Ka and Drusilla. Piet moved through with Darren and Todd, Angus, and Henry went last. Sounds of fighting drifted to them as they crossed the next three intersections.
Gary stopped just before the fourth and looked at Todd. “It’s directly ahead.”
They hunkered beside the corner and Gary snuck a camera scope around the edge, while Todd pulled out his tablet and enlarged what it showed.
“No guards.”
“No need. Autocannon.”
“Where?”
The man pointed.
“Well, shit.”
“And cameras, so even if they’re not auto, they’ll be remote.”
“Ka, can you do something about this?”
“No. Maybe Daz can shoot it with the launcher.”
They all looked at Darren and noticed he wasn’t carrying the rocket launcher.
“It ran out of rockets,” he explained, and the team groaned.
“Okay, it looks like we do this the old-fashioned way, then,” Piet concluded, extracted three purplish-colored grenades from a pouch, and pulled the pins.
“No!” Ka shouted, grabbed the two Marines closest to her, and dragged them back down the corridor.
He grinned and began the count. “Five…four…”
“You crazy bastard,” Gary muttered as he caught both Henry and Angus by the collar. “Come on, boss. We do not want to be here.”
“…two…” The explosives expert lobbed the grenades one after the other and ran.
Todd managed to grasp his arm and yanked him two steps farther before the man tangled their legs together and brought him down. Purple lightning exploded around the corner, and tendrils of it stretched flickering fingers toward his boots.
Piet scrambled away from them while the team leader curled his knees and wriggled farther away from the corner. He still had a hold on the other man’s collar and dragged him closer so his face was level with his own. “You and me are gonna talk about your idea of old-fashioned.”
His eyes widened. “What? Those things are old fashioned. The Meligornians have much better ones now. I had all kinds of trouble finding them.”
“Uh-huh.”
“It’s not like you can get them on the Intersys Shoppers site.”
Todd shook him again. “I. Know.”
“They’re collectors’ items.” He paled. “And I detonated three of them. Do you know how much those things cost me?”
“We’re gonna talk about this later. Right now, they’d better have worked.”
The Meligornian grenades had worked better than anyone could have hoped. There were gaping holes in the walls and ceiling where the autocannons and the cameras had stood. Sparks hissed and popped through the darkened gaps and the doors sagged open.
Reggie crept cautiously up to the nearest one and stretched a hand toward it.
“Don’t!” Piet cried in alarm, and his teammate withdrew his hand.
“We’re still gonna have to get through there,” he pointed out and thumped a boot into the door before anyone could protest.
The door creaked, tilted, and toppled to the deck with a resounding clang. Reggie flattened himself against the wall and projectiles whistled through the gap he’d stood in.
“Well, someone’s not happy.” He chuckled, unhooked a grenade, and tossed it into the command center.
“N—” Todd raised a hand to stop him, then gave up. “Never mind.”
Reggie slipped around the door frame, followed by Gary and Jimmy. Ka took a position on the other side of the door and angled her body so she could see past them. Todd presumed it was all clear when she curled around her side of the door. He hurried to follow, the rest of the team in his wake.
Reggie had used a stun grenade and not the fragmentation grenade he had assumed. Several of the Dreth had taken cover behind their consoles, but others groaned on the floor. The team eliminated these before they could rise and turned their attention to the rest.
The battle was short and fierce. Todd joined the melee and teamed with Drusilla, Henry, and Piet to face the much bigger Dreth warriors. Angus was wounded again, but Henry had revenge and inflicted the same wound that had killed him in the wave simulation. He finished it when he thrust his blade through the joint between the pirate’s chest plate and throat covering.
Todd looked for the captain barely in time to see him fall to the concentrated fire from Ka’s blaster. He was about to rip the woman a new one when he realized she’d positioned herself to face the wall backing onto the rest of the ship.
They all looked around for more Dreth and saw only bodies. None of them moved for a long, long moment before Gary whooped with glee.
“Yes! We’ve done it!”
His happy cry set the rest of the team off, and they bounced around the control center high-fiving each other, while Todd frowned. They’d completed the mission, so why did he feel there was something he’d missed?
Something important.
“Fuck.”
The team stilled and three of them moved toward the door. He looked around the Bridge.
“Who made sure the auto-destruct was turned off?”
From the shocked looks he received, that small detail had slipped everyone’s mind. They pivoted and scanned frantically for the device that meant the difference between success and abject failure.
“Woot!” Gary slapped Reggie on the shoulder. “It’s over there.”
They all moved toward it until they could see the countdown timer. Todd saw the expression on Gary’s face and his heart plummeted.
“Motherfu—”
The pirate ship flared super-nova bright against the stars.
Chapter Forty-Three
Todd emerged from the pod still shaking his head.
“Of all the motherfucking stupid errors to make—”
“You know we took out every Marine on board that ship, right?”
“Yeah, thanks, Gary. We’re gonna have to watch our backs for a month and the LT is gonna chew my ass.”
“That’s what being the boss is all about.”
He shook his head. The man was completely unrepentant and way too happy. You’da thought the team had won the scenario, not blown it for everyone.
“I cannot believe we forgot about the self-destruct.” He glared at the team as they emerged one by one and headed to the door.
“You have an hour to freshen up and eat, then I want you in your racks,” he called. “We’re gonna do it all again, tomorrow—and we’re gonna do it right this time.”
“Sure thing, Lance.”
“You gonna scrub my back?”
“Get your sorry asses moving before I decide you’re all too fresh to need sleep.”
He glowered as they pushed through the door. Some raised their hands in acknowledgment and at least one of them raised a finger in salute. He grinned. “Assholes.”
They were his assholes, though, and he knew it. The hours in the pod had forged them into a single fighting force—one that might survive the fight ahead. His expression softened as the last one walked out the door and he gave a happy sigh.
Pushing off the side of his pod, he followed them and registered the tired ache that rolled through his body. He’d barely stepped clear of the doorway when a hand descended on his shoulder.
He glanced along the arm attached and recognized McSeveny. “Lieutenant Commander,” he greeted the section’s second in command.
“The commander wants to see you,” the man told him, and his heart sank.
Some of what he felt must have shown on his face because the LT gave him a grim smile. “You did well in there.”
“Thank you, sir.”
McSeveny was quiet after that and he followed him to the commander’s office, wondering what he’d done and exactly how much trouble he was in for doing it.
All he wanted was a hot shower and his bunk—even food could wait. The demand for sleep rolled through his bones. Watching McSeveny as the man opened the door and led him through, he had the horrible feeling he would have to wait a good deal longer for that.
Something was up, as surely as the lieutenant commander’s face was the blankest of masks.
The man was seated behind his desk when he arrived. Todd marched in, came to attention before him, and snapped him a salute as he raised his head.
“Your team did surprisingly well, Lance Corporal. We were all pleasantly surprised to see them working as a unit in the pirate scenario today.”
“Thank you, sir.” He kept his back ramrod straight. The commander studied him carefully. “At ease, son.”
He shifted carefully to at ease and the officer continued. “I think we will share a couple of clips of how you guys dealt with that last ambush and then worked to take the bridge. Saving that marine unit outside the data center was a neat trick, too, even though we lost the data.”
Todd blushed. Losing the data had been his fault. He’d merely assumed that losing it was better than leaving it and wondered now if he’d been wrong. “We’ll do better next time, sir.”
“I also like your technician’s trick with the airlocks. That one will go in the instruction manuals. Speaking of which—”
“I’d like to keep her, sir,” Todd snapped quickly. “She’s the only technically minded one among them.”
“Apart from Piet.” The commander’s voice was dry.
“He has a different bent, sir. Ka is invaluable.”
“And you’d like to keep her to yourself, eh?”
He blushed deeper at the connotations in the captain’s voice but chose to ignore them when he answered, though. “Yes, sir. She’s important to the team.”
“Do you know how many teams have moved her on?”
“It doesn’t matter, sir. She’s one of mine and I’d like to keep her.”
“All right, Lance Corporal. I’ll take that into consideration. For now, she’s yours.”
Todd thought he’d put up one hell of a fight to keep Ka with the team unless she wanted otherwise. He was careful to keep that thought from his face, though. “Thank you, sir.”
“That was a very impressive run, son, with some out-of-the-box thinking, which is what the VirtWorld effort was built for.” He paused to let his praise sink in before he added, “It’s merely a shame that so many hundreds of people saw you guys fail at the end.”
His jaw dropped. “Sir?”
“Literally hundreds,” the commander told him and tapped once on his keyboard to bring the screen at the back of his office to life. It displayed the live stream of the team’s run through the ship. “Like when the Witch and her team broke the wave test a few months back.”
“I…uh…” He closed his mouth and his face paled when he realized the entire fleet had been able to tune in to the team’s antics as they made their run—entertainment for the long haul.
His superior laughed. “I don’t think there’s been a team that’s done so well in that scenario in the history of its running. It looks like the private training session you ran them through really paid off.” He sobered as the younger man pulled himself together. “Along with the congratulations, however, comes the bad news.”
Todd stiffened and came to attention, even though he still stood at ease. The commander continued regardless.
“Word from HQ is that one of the previous teams assigned to the major convoy has been delayed. Their ship ran into problems,” he began. “so that leaves us a team short. Guess who stepped up to fill the space.”
“No good deed, sir…” He shook his head and sighed but didn’t argue.
He’d trained the team well enough to survive. There was no reason why they wouldn’t survive this as well.
“Damned right, no good deed. Your team has twelve hours. Get your S’s done and be ready to ship out in twelve hours on the Navy destroyer, Devil’s Care. Dismissed.”
Todd snapped to attention, saluted smartly, and pivoted. McSeveny opened the door as he reached it and closed it firmly behind him.
If he hadn’t been so tired, Todd would have punched the air in victory. His team had been promoted! They’d shamed themselves in front of the whole fleet and fought so well they’d been shoved into shoes much larger than they’d ever worn before.
He was horrified and thrilled at the same time.
On his way to the barracks and a sorely-needed hot shower, he asked the accommodations section to send a wake-up call for seven hours. It wouldn’t be nearly enough rack time, but he didn’t want to be late—and he also wanted his team to be able to get the equipment they needed wrangled before they boarded.
There was no way he would risk them dying from lack of gear when he’d only now brought them to a point where they would work together well enough to stand a chance of living. No way in hell.
Pain rolled over Garach when he woke. He squeezed his eyes tightly shut and waited for it to fade. His mouth felt as dry as the Dargath Peaks and his face throbbed.
The young Dreth tried to open his eyes and found only one worked properly. The other was swollen almost shut, the flesh around it hot and puffy. Pain pounded through his head and throbbed in a sharp line through his chest.
He thought about sitting but one of his knees refused to respond when he tried to bend it, and the other leg felt like it had been caught in a vice. Vaguely, he remembered having his feet knocked out from under him and wondered if the women responsible had similar lines of pain in their legs.
No matter how tough they were, the impact from that kind of kick left a mark on the kicker as well as the kickee.
Garach lay quietly and made a slow inventory from his toes up. His muscles ached, his bones hurt, and his flesh felt stiff and sore as if he’d bruised almost every inch of his body.
“I thought I would be healed,” he muttered and found it hard to move his mouth.
Someone had done a number on his jaw and his lips were swollen over his lower incisors. He winced as they unstuck themselves from his gums.
He groaned but tensed when he heard a nearby door open. It was an effort to tilt his head so he could see the small man who came into his room. Curly dark hair crowned an angular face liberally sprinkled with freckles.
His lips crinkled into a lopsided smile when he saw the youngster watching him.
Instinctively, he tried to smile in response but couldn’t quite get his lips to work. Frog held a hand up as he tried to speak. The man’s smile vanished and his brown eyes became serious.
“Let me lay this out for you,” he began and hurried over to lay a hand on his chest to stop the kid’s attempt to sit. “Don’t try to move. You’ve been healed enough to stop you dying while you were out but this can go one of two ways.”
Garach nodded and winced when his neck and head rebelled against the movement.
Frog gave him a moment and waited for some of the tension to leave the boy before he continued. “I’ve been on the other side of Stephanie’s training and usually, she likes pain to do the heavy lifting instead of her having to deal with obstinate skulls.”
He stared as the man pointed to his own head. “Like mine.”
Again, he nodded to show he understood but more slowly this time. It still hurt but not as much.
The man noted the movement, sighed, and continued.
“So, I’ll lay it out for you and I don’t want you to answer. Not because I’m worried about the pain but because if you don’t answer, I’ll have plausible deniability.”
Garach’s brow furrowed as he wondered why his uncle would want that, but Frog ignored him.
“I might take a bullet for you in a firefight, kid, but there’s no way I’ll get between you and one of Stephanie’s lessons.”
He dipped his chin in the barest of nods.
“You,” Frog continued and poked him gently with one forefinger, “are being shortsighted, hardheaded, obstinate, and obtuse.”
The young Dreth opened his mouth to argue but stopped when pain flared before he could say a single word.
“Yes.” The man raised his finger and pointed at him. “Exactly like that.”
Garach shifted his head the tiniest amount downward in the hope that it would avoid causing him anymore hurt.
“So,” Frog continued. “Stephanie stopped the two women from killing you. Do you realize that?” He held a hand up before the patient could respond. “Remember, don’t answer me.”
The kid stilled since he’d been about to do exactly that. He wanted to argue but he closed his eyes instead and replayed what he remembered of the last stages of the battle. Now, when he looked back, it was fairly obvious—as much as he didn’t want to admit it.
When he opened his eyes again and shifted his gaze so he could see his uncle’s face, Frog continued.
“So, if you’re logical—and face it, what Dreth isn’t?” Frog told him. “You have to come to the same conclusion—that if you held back during the fight or want to believe you did, you’re playing the idiot.”
Garach remained silent and hoped the sinking feeling in his gut didn’t show on his face. The man studied him for a moment before he went on.
“Anyway, I’ve spoken to your Uncle Vishlog, and he says there’s a maxim on Dreth that says, ‘There are no old and prideful Dreth warriors. They might have egos but they have no pride.’”
