Gunship (48 page)

Ty felt the bed shift next to him as she slid in behind him, her small form warm against his back. She carefully tucked the blankets around him and then draped one arm over his side, cradling him as if he were a child. He pulled her hand against his chest, holding onto it until the tremors finally stopped. She looked down at him, protectively, her light breath reassuring him as he fell back to sleep.

Tiny waited until Ty was sleeping soundly. But whenever she tried to extract herself from his grasp, he came around and began to panic again. Finally Tiny gave up. She kept her hand in his and gently let her head lie against his neck, listening to his breathing and fighting to stay awake. The past two days, however, had taken their toll. Gradually her posture slumped until she lay comfortably snugged up against Ty’s side.

That was how Chang found them the next morning when he came by to drop off chow. The Gaiden, lying on top of a pile of blankets, gently holding his scout sniper buddy as both of them slept, their breathing synched and relaxed.

“In helping another, we shall help ourselves—whatever good is given out completes the circle to return to us,” Chang whispered to himself in wonder. He shook his head with a slight smile and walked on, quietly disappearing down the corridor the way he had come to ward off any visitors for another couple of hours.

Tiny woke a short while later and finally escaped from Ty’s grasp. She looked down on the sergeant, knowing he wouldn’t remember what she had done for him but glad she had done it all the same. For a little while, it had made her feel more human again, connected to something aside from death and destruction. She got back to work updating the medical charts and checking on her patients, pausing only when she realized that for once she had managed to sleep through the night without fighting her own dark dreams. She shook her head, wondering at that as she cued up the machines and began entering data.

—————

Welch was decidedly not having a good day. Not only had Reilly Campbell escaped his grasp, but he had also missed his one chance to locate Commander Zain. Several vessels in his fleet had been destroyed. And to make matters worse, Raymond had gone and complicated everything with his latest game.

A team of Raymond’s men decked out in explosive vests had gained control of his cruiser. They had spread out through the ship and taken up positions in critical locations: life support, engineering, medical, the bridge, even outside of his personal suite. Welch’s men wanted to take them out, but the vests were brilliantly rigged. If even one man stopped breathing, they all would detonate immediately. Raymond had filled them in on the other details: any attempt to jam, deactivate, or remove the vests would also cause them to blow. He had established rotating shifts, so the men would be replaced every twelve hours. Raymond had also provided an updated copy of his terms.

Welch had known it was coming, but he gritted his teeth all the same when he saw what the man wanted: compensation for the damage to his space station in the form of a wing on the cruiser, a place to continue to conduct his business, a guarantee that he would be the primary arms dealer for the new AOC government, and a position as chief of interrogations. If Welch refused any of the terms, he would blow up the cruiser.

This wrinkle definitely complicated matters. Welch was due to arrive at the AOC forum on Galant at the end of the week to accept his new position as commander-in-chief. From there, he would be able to prosecute the war in safety and luxury while ensuring the solar systems closest to Galant fell in line with his new regime. Nowhere in this plan was there room for a psycho like Raymond. Welch had expected to have him dead and flushed out an airlock by now. Instead, the psycho had turned the tables at the most dangerous of times. He had no choice but to go along with the terms, and he hated it. Taking a deep breath, he reminded himself that this was a temporary problem. When they got to the Forum the game would change again, except this time it would be in his favor.

His handheld beeped, indicating that his teams had returned. Welch stalked down the corridor to meet them. His rage was palpable, and everyone gave him plenty of room as he passed. Raymond had continued to be a thorn in his side by gaining access to Welch’s wing in the morning and luring several of his favorite girls down to the new detainment wing. By now he was sure that if they were still alive they were damaged beyond repair. A vid card would show up later at his door. Raymond loved to document his work.

As annoying as this was, there was nothing Welch could do other than post security and lock certain doors. If Raymond perceived that Welch was being an obstacle to any of his endeavors, he simply re-emphasized the bomb threat on board to get what he wanted. Welch was bored of the threats. He toyed with the idea of shooting one of the vest-wearing men just to make it more interesting.

To ensure he maintained order, Welch had executed his lead security personnel and their families for allowing Raymond to access his ship at all. He couldn’t have anyone getting the wrong idea and thinking that he wasn’t in charge. Then he promoted the next in line and advised them to do better than their predecessors. And he reminded Raymond that he, too, could play games. When Alton’s people went to retrieve what was left of his trophy collection, Welch “accidentally” hit the deactivate button, releasing the shields on the cargo bay and flushing people and trophies alike into the void. He enjoyed a fifth of bourbon while watching Raymond’s tantrum over the event on the closed-circuit security cameras. It had served as an entertaining distraction for part of the morning. He intended to inflict further hate and discontent on Raymond in the days to come. That thought alone was a source of great joy.

For now, though, he was focused on a new curiosity—the boy his team had brought aboard. The kid was some kind of freak. It took several boarding parties before they were finally able to stun him and get him into restraining gear. Welch sauntered in to find himself face to face with the bloody, flat gaze of his newest guest.

The kid certainly didn’t disappoint. In the time it had taken Welch to get down to the holding area, the kid had managed to kill another three members of his security team, bringing the total to twenty-seven. Their bodies lay strewn around the room as the rest of the team kept him at bay in shackles and a restraint collar with weapons drawn. Two of the men stood out of reach to either side, holding the poles attached to the collar and eyeing the boy as if he were a wild beast.

“Impressive!” Welch commented as he walked around the room, surveying the damage, his hands folded neatly behind his back. “And what sort of monster are you supposed to be?”

Seth shot him a venomous glare. “The kind that kills people like you.”

“Ah!” Welch chuckled. “That kind. Yes, seems there are quite a few of those around these days, people who’d like to kill me. I have a list: Commander Zain, Captain Campbell, Sergeant Ty, oh, and I almost forgot Raymond over there.” Welch waved at Crazy Ray, who lounged casually in the doorway, looking with interest at the boy. “And, of course, now I can add you to the list. The list of people who would like to kill me but who ultimately will fail in the end. So take a number and get in line! Who are you?” Welch turned with an annoyed look.

Seth shot his best crazy grin at Welch and said, “Death.”

At this, Crazy Ray began to laugh hysterically, and for a moment Welch joined in before sobering. He pulled his blaster and walked up, putting it against Seth’s forehead.

“Now, who are you really?”

Seth shoved his head against the blaster and grinned even more, refusing to answer.

“Delightful! What a hateful little viper he is!” Crazy Ray said admiringly. “Razam, you owe me a pet to replace Vishon. I want this one. He is just charming!”

Welch looked at Crazy Ray with disgust. The boy had killer instincts, and he was smart. Smart enough to know that Welch wasn’t willing to kill him just yet. It seemed a waste to turn him over to Raymond when he had so much potential, but perhaps it would keep the psycho busy, at least until they arrived at the Forum. He doubted Raymond would kill the boy if he meant him for a pet. And in the meantime, he could do some digging to see what he could find on this kid. He wondered if the boy belonged to anyone worth knowing or controlling. He hoped so.

“Fine. The viper is yours. But either implant him or collar him, I don’t care which. I don’t want him wandering the ship killing people. What a terrible event if he were to kill one of your men and blow us all to hell!” Welch turned back to sneer at Seth. “Well, Mr. Death, it’s your lucky day! Raymond has been hoping for a new pet—ever since I killed his last one. Seems you fit the bill. Try to be a good boy and not push him too hard, he’s had a very rough week. Good luck with your training!”

Welch waved his security team to hand the boy over to Crazy Ray. As they pushed Seth forward, Crazy Ray stepped in with a smirk and jammed an electro-club against Seth’s ribs. The jolt knocked him to his knees while the security team fitted him with a more permanent control collar and removed the restraining gear. When they were done, they stepped back. Seth looked around, then staggered to his feet again and glared at Crazy Ray.

“Remember, if he gets loose, Raymond, I will kill him,” Welch called back over his shoulder in warning as he walked from the room. Crazy Ray ignored him, fascinated by his new pet and already considering how he could use the boy in his business or against Welch.

“No, no. That isn’t the look we’re going for, dear boy,” Crazy Ray said as he triggered the collar, dropping Seth to the floor again and watching gleefully as he rolled and screamed, clawing at the device. “But in time I know you’ll get it right. They all do. Now what should I call you…”

—————

Reilly sat in the common room, leaning back in the old leather arm chair. Trace Callum and a few members of his crew had joined them for this meeting. Only Ty was absent, still recovering in the medical chamber from his wounds. Reilly had been awoken several times over the last two days as he came to in a panic and fighting. Those episodes were easier to handle. When he woke in tears, pleading for them to not leave, it haunted her. Ty had been through rough times before, but he had been angry, silent. It had never been like this. Reilly stayed by his bed for as long as Tiny would allow, trying to calm him. Between the two of them, they managed to cover the long hours in between. But today, Tiny had injected Ty with a doper to keep him under while they were away. Neither of them wanted to know what would happen if he woke up alone. And both of them were needed at the meeting.

The room was getting warm from all the bodies, and a low hum vibrated along the metal walls as people spoke to each other in whispered voices. Reilly stood and took a head count, waiting for the last few crew members to assemble. Duv finally straggled in and slouched in a chair by the door. He was followed by Chang, who shot Reilly a worried look. Callum was right, Duv was a mess. He hadn’t shaved in several days, and it was obvious he had been drinking. She glanced around the room at the drawn, serious faces, gathered and waiting. They were all dead tired and in need of a break that never seemed to materialize. She suspected that most of the news would land hardest of all on Duv’s shoulders. If he was drunk, so be it. A time was coming when none of them would be able to escape from their present reality. Her people had to blow off steam sometime. Now was as good a time as any.

She nodded at Chang, who positioned himself to Duv’s right. Neither of them knew what Tiny’s news was yet, but if it involved Seth, then it was probably not good. Duv was becoming unpredictable, and Reilly didn’t want any more violence if it could be helped. She cleared her throat, drawing the room’s attention.

“I called this meeting because we have a lot we need to discuss,” Reilly stated as she looked around the room. “We got lucky getting Ty off that station, and we were even luckier when we got away from Welch’s AOC fleet. That won’t happen again, you can be sure. Welch and Alton aren’t going to stop hunting for us, but that’s the least of our worries. In case you haven’t heard, there’s a war on, and we’re getting ready to land right in the thick of it. I want you to listen good, because the folks who are going to talk today have information you need to hear. Some of it is going to be hard to take, but as you all know, that comes with the territory. Captain Callum?”

Trace Callum stood from where he was leaning on the door frame. “Some of you were wondering how we came to be out there when you jumped into our sector of space, especially since we weren’t part of your rescue. Let me bring you up to speed. After you left on the rescue mission, we had an operative who went rogue. Commander Zain instructed us to go after that operative and bring him back. We failed to do that. As we were departing the base, the Commander initiated the emergency evacuation procedures due to compromise of the facility’s location. The base in the Dwyer system is no longer safe to use and has been abandoned. I have the coordinates to a waypoint beacon that will provide us with further orders on how to proceed. Once repairs have been completed, we can head that way and join back up with the rest of the wing.”

Trace paused, looking briefly at Duv. He sat in the corner of the room, looking lost. His head was down in his hands.

“The operative we encountered was a kid. I take it you all might have some idea who he is and what this is all about?” Trace looked back at Reilly.

“He’s my son,” Duv said quietly, not looking up. “He picked up some damn machine on Roen that had ISU programming code in it. It took over his mind, turned him into some kind of war robot. He was getting treated by Commander Zain’s docs. Something must have gone wrong, though, for him to be out here. He saved our lives in the fight against that AOC fleet.”

At this, Reilly and the others looked up, meeting Duv’s bloodshot eyes. He nodded as if to confirm his words before he continued.

“Only you all know about how I frequency-swapped that one bird. Made it look like a whole squad in order to get those teams out on the Tvelen mission. No one else knew I did that outside of this crew…and Skeeter. It was him. It had to be.”