Gunship (13 page)

Reilly ran her finger along the side of the ship where ragged metal jutted out from a six-foot, blackened tear in the hull, while Ty whistled softly.

“Well, I’d say that was a closer call than we thought.” Ty pointed at the hull. The laser had just missed severing the starboard control lines. The extra armor plating they had installed during their last refit had only slowed the laser down, not stopped it. The ship looked as if a giant can opener had ripped it apart.

“Good thing that square down went well. I’m not sure I would’ve tried it if I had known the damage was this bad,” Reilly said grimly.

The ship gave a loud groan and they all jumped back. The starboard hull was still, then suddenly the outer portion fell completely off the side. A second laser scar below the first showed more blackened metal. A stress fracture along the top section had finally split, revealing a view into the primary mech room.

Duv and Skeeter peered back out at them from the hallway, looking through the mech room.

“Shit,” said Skeeter, startled.

Ty shook his head in wonder. “You can say that again. Do you think that counts as fifty-three?” he asked Reilly.

She shrugged unconsciously, still staring at the gaping hole in the side of her ship.

“Looks like you were right, Duv. Time to buy a new ship,” Reilly said as she shouldered her gear bag and walked past Chang, who just nodded silently, staring at the piece of hull on the ground.

“Anybody want to go for that drink I mentioned?” Duv asked from the interior of the ship.

They all nodded their agreement, shouldered their bags, and headed for the nearest bunk house. As they departed, the local crew dogs gathered around the ship in disbelief to examine the missing starboard side and to tell those who had missed it how Captain Reilly and her crew had landed it all in one piece just moments earlier.

The Iron BAR was a favorite among the members of the ISUs. Even before they could see it, Reilly and her crew could hear it. They took up quarters in a local guesthouse just down the street that was comfortable and defendable in case there was trouble. Chang was going on about making a visit to a local temple belonging to his ancestors. Skeeter decided to tag along to see some of the sights, since he wasn’t old enough for the BAR. The two of them headed to the market sector where Chang’s temple was located.

With that settled, Reilly, Ty, and Duv changed into clean pants and shirts, polished up their boots, strapped on their side arms, and headed down the street following the music. As they came up to the BAR, they ran into folks they had known in the service and stopped to shake hands and share some news before heading in for a drink. It was still early when they walked in. Shep, a former ISU gunner turned bartender, turned to get their drink orders.

“Well, look it this! Duvall Jackson himself and Joby Ty returned from the black reaches of space! How the hell have you been?” He reached across the counter to enthusiastically shake their hands. “What’s the news? Tell me all about whatcha working now…oh my, Captain Reilly Campbell in the flesh!” he said as Ty and Duv stepped apart to make room for Reilly at the bar. Shep gripped her forearm in a warrior-style clasp as he beamed at her.

“It’s good to see you all! What’s it been? Almost three years now since…”

Suddenly the room got tense and quiet. Reilly looked down briefly at the floor with a grim smile, and suddenly Ty cleared his throat. “So how about those drinks, Shep? Got to keep us hydrated to tell all we got to tell!”

“Yeah, and I want to hear it—been starving for some news! Just landed and I can’t even have you a drink ready—some bartender I am, huh?” Shep reached up above the counter to pull down a ceramic mug with a brass plaque tacked on the side that said ‘CAPT CAMPBELL’ and deftly filled it to the rim with Roen’s best ale.

“I’ve got your table in the back just like always, between the dart board and the side door in case you need a quick getaway.” He grinned as Reilly muttered her thanks then slowly made her way back to the table in the corner. A lone veteran was tuning up his guitar from the platform that served as a stage and nodded at Reilly as she swiped her handheld in front of his screen to deposit some credits for his efforts. The full band would arrive later, and then the place would be rolling and loud, just the way she liked it. She pulled up a chair and grabbed a pack of cards from the center of the table. It was there, just like she remembered. She glanced over at Ty and Duv, both downing tankards of ale and laughing with Shep at the bar, then back down at the table. In the center was another bit of brass, this one like a circle cut into pie wedges. She touched each section, rubbing the dust off with her fingers. As the metal came clear, a name and rank could be read for each wedge.

Another set of words circled the very center that read “In honor of the sole survivors and medal of valor recipients who held the line at Viego 3.” Reilly read each name slowly, as if they weren’t already etched in her memory: Captain Ryan Kelly, Captain Jeremy Gray, Lt Reilly Campbell, Staff Sergeant Joby Ty.

Suddenly the demons were upon her again. The trenches were ablaze with green fire, and it was eerily quiet as she struggled to keep the large guns in ammo. She ran ceaselessly in the mud between them, loading bins of ammo as they began to get low and fighting with the enemy as they attempted to come over the berm to kill her. Sometimes it was a shot to kill, sometimes a bayonet or a knife. She told herself not to stop, because to stop was to die. The vacant, lifeless eyes of her platoon gazed back at her as she ran the trench again, their bodies scattered along the edges in various states of death, sometimes locked in eternal battle with their foes who lay dead beside them. Three times they had repelled a full push by the enemy to break through their lines. Each time they held and pushed back, but for every victory and although the enemy corpses outnumbered their own, a price would be exacted and another member would go down. One sergeant had been hit five times before he stopped trying to fight, taking triple the number of the enemy with him. Reilly’s medic, Sergeant Keen, was one of the last to go. One minute he was patching up a troop and heading to load up the big gun. The next he was gone, as a high-explosive laser round incinerated him. She was the only one left to hold the flank, she had to hold it or they would all die. She could feel the mud pull mercilessly at her tired body as she fought to keep moving, keep fighting…

“Captain. Hey, Captain! You with me or what?” Ty grabbed Reilly’s shoulder firmly and gave it a shake.

Reilly looked up at Ty, her eyes trying to focus again. He looked down at her solemnly, seeing the stare, knowing where she had been.

“Ty. Yeah, thanks, I’m good now.” She shook her head again and took a big swallow from her mug.

“You know, we don’t always have to sit at this fraggin’ cursed table. C’mon, we can move over there.” Ty tugged on Reilly’s arm, pulling her up from the chair, but then she pulled back. He let go and looked at her.

“I’m good. It only happens once in a while. I guess since I haven’t been here I should’ve expected it to come back.” She gave a small grim smile, forcing her mind to focus on the here and now, then sat again. “Pull up a chair; let’s play some cards or something. They gave us our own damn table, so we might just as well use it!”

Ty looked at her in disbelief, then started to laugh. “Only you would see the bright side of the apocalypse.” He waved over another bartender, who deposited four more mugs of ale on their table. Then Ty picked up his mug and toasted, “To having our own table and a lifetime supply of ale! That was the best thing I ever got out of any battle…in fact, if they did that more often instead of those stupid medals, I might’ve signed up for another tour.”

Reilly grinned back and clanked her mug into his. “I can drink to that. Shuffle ’em up, Sarge, let’s see what you got!”

—————

Roen was the first shore leave Skeeter had been on since joining Reilly’s crew, and he took in the sights with enthusiasm. The town resembled a mix of Western and Asian themes with colorful store fronts and stands. All kinds of people moved up and down the streets: black, brown, yellow, white in various forms of military or contemporary or eccentric dress. The smell of fresh food and meat grilling made his stomach growl, so they stopped at a stand and grabbed some kabobs before continuing down the walkway. Most of the buildings were wood or stone, but the signs were holographic, and so were some of the salespeople in the windows. Chang turned down a side street that narrowed as it approached the front of the temple where the shrine he wanted to visit was kept. Stands and street sellers crowded the sidewalks, loudly hawking all kinds of goods. As Chang stopped to buy some incense as an offering, Skeeter noticed an electronics stand nearby. He pointed it out, indicating that he would wait there for Chang to return. Chang nodded and continued up the street while Skeeter jogged between TORRs and other vehicles to reach his destination.

The electronics stand had everything. Several discount tables lined the entrance way, while an older-version holo-salesman touted the great buys and welcomed guests to continue into the main store, a two-story wood building that featured a dark but much more modern interior. Skeeter looked through the sale tables, then wandered inside. Personal robots, handhelds, computer parts, circuit boards, and holo components filled every corner. He picked up an operating manual for the HAILE system on their ship, thumbed through it, then put it down and moved to the next table. A number of handheld edu-systems sat in a box at one end. Skeeter sorted through them, looking to see what programs they had. One system featured a training program with various ship schematics and details, while another provided training in three hundred languages. He messed with that one for a few moments, and then dug through the box some more. As he got ready to move to the next table, a new-looking system, sleek silver with a bright-blue-backlit keyboard, caught his eye. Skeeter flipped it and saw that it had multiple programs already loaded for use, including language, astrophysics, orbital mechanics, a few military combat simulators for both flying and ground combat, a cryptography course, and a bunch of cyber defense programs. It was probably worth a ton of credits. He had sighed, set it back down, and started on to the next table when a hand grabbed his shoulder.

Skeeter turned quickly to find a man in dark clothes looking down on him. He had even darker glasses on, which Skeeter recognized to be an advanced heads-up display interface.

“Aren’t you going to get it?” the man asked curiously.

“Get what?” Skeeter asked warily.

“That edu-system. Seems like a good deal to me. If you’re not going to get it, then I will.” The man picked up the system Skeeter had been looking at.

“I don’t think I have enough for it. It probably costs at least three thousand credits with all of that training stuff on there.”

The man looked down at the device in his hands. The kid was smart. The actual price was quite a bit higher, since this was not a standard edu-device. He covertly placed a price sticker on the bottom, then handed the device to Skeeter.

“No, it’s only twelve hundred credits, kid. Look. And it allows you to test and update your scores, too. Pretty good deal.”

Skeeter looked at the label. The man was right. It didn’t make sense that a system like this would be so cheap, but maybe there was a newer version coming out and they were selling this one off. He bit his lip. He had two thousand credits saved up. That would still leave him with eight hundred for some other stuff, and Duv had agreed to give him some extra credits for some work he had done.

“So you going to get it or what? I got to be someplace, so if you don’t want it, then I do.” The man crossed his arms impatiently.

“Um, yeah, I think I will get it. Thanks for the tip.” Skeeter walked up front and scanned his handheld to pay for the system, then headed back into the bright sunlight of the street.

The man watched him go, then smirked and removed his glasses. He punched a code in his handheld, and a voice answered.

“Sir. The kid just left with the system. He seems to have some brains. We should start getting feedback shortly.”

A digitized voice responded. “Good. I want someone analyzing those scores as they are coming in. Report back to me when you have a baseline. Let’s see how smart he really is. See you back at the ship. Out.”

Commander Zain clicked off of his handset and leaned back in his chair. Before him was a holoscreen featuring bios on Reilly and her entire current crew, including their ISU service records. He clicked on each one, revealing a list of scores, brain scans, test results, and field trials. His gaze was clinical as he assessed his team. He had managed to build an elite team of warriors, the best in the ISUs, and then keep it a secret from everyone, even them. None of them remembered any of it, which made them his most perfect weapons.

“Now, how to bring you back into the fold so we are ready for the war we have to fight…” Zain zoomed in on the photo of Seth Jackson and stared at it. “You don’t even have to be smart to be the answer I’m looking for, kid. You just have to be the bait to get them hooked…and then we can get to work,” he said to himself.

—————

Duv wandered over to join Reilly and Ty in their card game. Before long, word of their arrival had plenty of old friends and service members showing up to welcome them back. The band played some old-style music, the blues and country styles that Reilly and the others liked. On breaks, they drunkenly joined in on the various unit songs that they knew. They had played several hands of cards, thrown some darts, and caught up on the local gossip when Chang arrived. He sidled over to the table and grabbed up a mug of ale.

“Where’s the kid?” Ty asked, smoking a cigar and looking at his cards.

“Bed. I walked him around most of the town and then had him help finish locking up the ship. I dropped him back at the room to mess around with some new handheld system he picked up at the bazaar.” Chang briefly surveyed the room. “Hmmm… I wonder how that will work out. My father always said, ‘Man can sooner reconcile the galaxy than two women!’” Chang indicated across the room with his head to where Duv was sitting with two attractive women, a brunette and a redhead, who both professed to love pilots and were about as silly drunk as Duv himself, who was insisting on acting out various flying exploits—to their great delight. Duv saw Chang and waved, announcing, “And that man there is the finest cook imaginable…”, to which Chang rolled his eyes and continued to drink while Reilly and Ty just laughed.

Just then, another drunken patron started in on their unit song, so they all tossed down their cards and began to bellow out the words:

Run little Dimars, save your asses, run!
Three Sixty-Three is out looking for some fun!
As the big, black-nosed gunships come down in their dives,
You’ll know the Death Adders are after your lives!

Up in Dimas, midst the high rocks and snow,
The poor ruttin’ Dimars are feeling quiet low;
For as the gunships roar by overhead,
He knows that his buddies will soon all be dead! Hey!

Uncle Joe Dimas, your stooges have found,
It just doesn’t pay to invade foreign ground.
For when they invaded, they disturbed the serene morning calm,
They brought on rockets, rail guns, and tac-bombs!

Up in Dimas, midst the high rocks and snow,
The poor ruttin’ Dimars are feeling quiet low;
For as the gunships roar by overhead,
He knows that his buddies will soon all be dead! Hey!

Here’s to the gunnies, the trench troopers too,
And their well-known rifles, the Defender SXU!
To all our pilots and gunships out in space,
And the Death Adders Squadron, the notorious Three Sixty-Eight!