IronStar (64 page)

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Authors: Grant Hallman

BOOK: IronStar
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“Is he…”

“He will live. With a month’s regen
and half a square meter of skin grafts, but he’ll live.” Doris winced
sympathetically. Kirrah sighed, shuddered a little, drew a deep breath.

“Doris, there’s at least three
hundred more out there, who
won’t
. This
has
to be stopped. The
Kruss
have to be stopped. You
know
what they’ll do to a planet like this,
given even the smallest toe-hold.” Kirrah’s eyes searched the woman’s dark
face.

“You and Peetha were right, earlier
today. The Kruss with Akaray has something it needs, back in O’dakai. That’s
the soft spot, the place to strike. I’m going to put an end to this, and I
desperately need your help. I’ve never asked you for anything remotely as
important as this.”

Doris made a little gesture with
one hand, said, “Anything, Kirrah. You know I’d do anything to help you with
this.”

“Before I go any farther, I need
your promise that you won’t tell
anyone
what I’m planning, even if you
decide you can’t help. We could get in a lot of trouble. Especially if we
succeed.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time
following you has landed me in a tank of drek… what’s on your evil little mind,
then?”

“Promise.”

“Gods, you’re scaring me now,
kiddo.
Okay!
I promise!”

Kirrah watched her friend’s face
cycle through several emotions, waited until one became dominant.
Sober
attention, good
. She took a deep breath and said the words that had been
burning in her mind since rising from beside Irshe: “I’m going to steal a
shuttle.”

Doris sputtered a moment, finally
regained her composure enough to respond coherently. “A shuttle?
Steal
?
You’re… that’s… you can’t do that! Admiral Dunning will
crucify
you!
Besides, they’re
guarded
!” she added, taking in the adamantine look in
Kirrah’s eyes.

Her shipmate replied, “They’re
expecting us to transport a meal to the damned Kruss, sometime before dawn.
Lieutenant Warden set it up already. I have friends here, Doris, who’ll help
us, who’ll follow my orders without question.”

“Do you have any
idea
how
many people you’d get in trouble doing that?” Doris asked.

Kirrah just looked at her a moment.
Then her gaze slid out the window to the courtyard full of wounded, came back
to her friend’s dark and sober countenance. “Doris, how many people just
died
,
because
I didn’t do it before
? This is
enough
.” Her sweeping
gesture took in the wounded people, the wounded city around them. “These people
trusted me to keep them
safe
. They trusted the Regnum,
us
, Doris!
Their strongest weapon is a barrel of black powder! Against a
tac-nuke
!
Please
help me.”

“What do you… This is
insane!
What do you think you could do,
two
of us could do, even if we
could
get away with a shuttle?”

Kirrah replied, “We can get above
the atmosphere. We can kill the Kruss and their base, stop whatever it’s up to.
With a Spitball.” Into Doris’s shocked expression, Kirrah continued: “The
shuttle carries four of them, I saw them in inventory on one of their
engineering screens. They’re just Mark IV’s, but we don’t need the extra
smarts, just one quick stab from orbit will do the job.”


Are you crazy?
” Doris
hissed. “You can’t use
gravitic
weapons against a planetary target!
You’d kill everyone in their damned city! The entire
Civilium
would
sanction you! It would sanction the
Regnum
too, just because our
equipment was used! And they’d give the whole planet on a platter to the damned
Kruss, just to make an example out of us!”

“Doris, I
have
to do this.
If you can’t help me…” Kirrah’s words were interrupted by the firm, calm voice
of the blue-robed woman sitting beside them, softly saying a single word:

“No.”


Issthe!
Don’t try to stop
me! I can’t explain it, I just have to
do
it!”

“You don’t have to explain it,
aska
.
And I am not here to stop you. I am here to
guide
you. When a person
first fully embraces
kaena’hachk
, they may injure themselves if
unguided. When we teach this to our children, we are careful to channel their
energy and protect them. I believe your world has not taught you this, and now
you need it.”

“You’re saying I shouldn’t be
angry
?”

“No, Kirrah, I’m saying
anger
shouldn’t be
you
. What you are feeling now,
aska
, is utterly
right. Your friend here is frightened to see your power, but she is also afraid
of where you are aiming it.
Think
, Kirrah. I do not know your tools, but
you
do. How can you use this
kaena’hachk
like an artist? Embrace
it, but do not injure yourself with it, nor harm those you love as well as your
target?”

Kirrah could feel the darkness
shift in her at Issthe’s words, no longer seething and uncontrollable, but
coiling now like a snake, ready to strike; searching, demanding an outlet, but
following her mind and not just her heart. It felt a little like her first time
at the controls of a Tubeship, all the power of a black hole to fold space
around her, but guided by her hand, exquisitely, powerfully
guided
. She
took a deep breath, and suddenly, it was all there.

“Issthe, you should be teaching a
course at our War College! Your kind of wisdom is needful in the Regnum.

“Doris, you’re right.
And so am
I
. I still need that shuttle. But I won’t kill the Kruss with a Spitball.”
Kirrah reached into her suit pouch and pulled out the Kruss smartshot Peetha
had brought to her nine days ago, held it up between thumb and forefinger.

“I’ll kill them with
this!

Doris looked at her old friend as
though she’d taken leave of her senses.

Kirrah added, “And furthermore,
I’ll do it without killing all the O’dai in their city,
and
without
breaking Admiral Dunning’s rules. Not quite… although I
may
piss her off
a little. Old friend, how often do a couple of Survey jocks get a chance to
save a whole
planet
? Are you
with
me?”

“Aww
shit
, Kirrah Roehl! If
you can keep it inside those lines, I have to come along for the ride, just to see
what you’re planning! I’m going to regret this, but I’m in. What’s another RSS
career more or less, anyway?”

“Compared to a whole planet’s
future, I figure, not that much, Lieutenant Finch,” her friend answered with a
sober but grateful look.

“I believe my place is with you
also,” said Issthe. “You seem to be a little new at this, I may be of some
further assistance.”

“You are probably right, Issthe,
but if this goes as I expect, it is not certain we will survive our night’s
work. Much depends on Admiral Dunning’s response to our actions.”

“I have weighed her, and I gladly
place my life in her hands for this cause, Warmaster,” the blue-robed woman
replied. “And in yours.” Kirrah looked again into the dark gray eyes of the
healer: bottomless, accepting, utterly calm. As when she first met the woman,
she saw
recognition
in those eyes, but now there was something else as
well… was it
respect
? For some reason, her doubts seemed to vanish.

“So be it. Peetha, we’re going to
need some muscle. Do you think you could find my old friend Prax’soua-
ro'tachk
?
And several others his size or larger? We’ll also need help from Captain
Schmado, I think we can trust him.

“Now here’s what we’re going to
do…”

 

Forty-five minutes later, a number
of shadowy figures were gathering under the Sun Gate. Two large tough-looking
men in the orange-and-white ribbons of the city guard, driving a market cart
that carried a lashed-together wood platform, a large coil of rope and the
butchered carcass of a shaggy creature the size of a Terran sheep. A blue-robed
member of the Healers’ Guild, her robe’s narrow black and white trim a symbol
of authority that few Regnum personnel would recognize. A medium-height,
competent-looking ex-O’dai fleet-captain in Talamae civilian clothes. And two
combat-armored Survey Service Lieutenants, one looking considerably more
anxious than the other.

“Where
is
she?” hissed the
more anxious of the two.


There
, Warmaster,” said
Lieutenant Rash’koi, pointing at the mismatched pair of figures just emerging
from the darkness of the west end of Slow Water Road. Farther to the east,
scattered fires were still flickering as rubble and damaged buildings burned
fitfully. Kirrah was very grateful for the Talamae’s mostly-stone construction,
which alone had prevented the devastating explosion from escalating into a
full-fledged firestorm.

“Peetha! Good, did you have any
trouble finding another…
Lord Tsano!
What are
you
doing here?”

“I overheard your messenger asking
for ‘large’ and ‘strong’ volunteers. I believe I fit the Warmaster’s
specifications. And don’t
splutter
at me like that, Kirrah. Besides
outranking you, I have something you may find useful later on this mission.” By
now Kirrah was in full goggle, staring speechless at the unexpected
co-conspirator. On the King’s face, tiny glistening tracks of medicinal gel
shone where his lacerations had been sealed earlier that night. He continued,
“I have
rank
. I am what your
Reg’num’s
Doctor Penni’ton called a
‘head of state’. If Lucinda Fleetmaster should feel compelled by duty to strike
against you, my presence may give her pause. Or excuse. Now let’s stop wasting
time, it will be dawn in another
takka
.

Damn, he’s right,
Kirrah
realized.
We’ve got the weight, let’s use it
.

 

In another few minutes their
caravan pulled up under the side of
Argosy’s
Shuttle One, parked neatly
in the center of its circle of scorched earth. An exterior light came on in
response to their approach.

“Advance and be rec… oh, it’s you,”
said a familiar voice over the external speakers.

With an inward sigh at the choice
of duty guard that luck had cast her, Kirrah replied, “Hi, Marcus. We’ve got
the raft for that damned Kruss’s dinner, we should be going soon. Open the
cargo door, please.” In a few seconds the bottom of the craft’s tail split and
a belly-ramp extruded. Lights came on in the three-by-nine meter bay.

Grunting convincingly, the four men
carried the heavy log raft up into the compartment. Kirrah and Doris carried
the large coil of mooring line, and Peetha slung the thirty-kilo carcass over
one shoulder with practiced ease. Issthe followed the conspirators,
broadcasting ‘who-me?’ innocence like a deep-space nav beacon. While Kirrah saw
to the shipshape securing of their cargo, Doris opened the door to the forward
compartment. Her voice carried back bright and cheerful and
loud
:

“Corporal
Gilman
, too! Why,
this
is
unexpected! We thought you’d all be bunked down somewhere. Damn!
it’s been a long night, hasn’t it?”

“Yes, ma’am,” replied Adrinne’s
light contralto.
Shit
, thought Kirrah,
I hope that’s all of them.
This is getting sticky. At least they don’t
sleep
in combat armor
.
Her team sauntered casually down the off-center aisle, Prax’soua and Rash’koi
gawking unfeignedly at the unfamiliar interior of the vessel.

Adrianne continued, “The Lieutenant
and I just bunked here in the shuttle, seemed as good as anyplace. Terribly
sorry about the bombing, Kirrah, there’s no way that should…
Hey
!” At
Kirrah’s signal, Prax’soua and Rash’koi, who had placed themselves nearest the
female Marine, each grabbed a wrist and stepped back, suspending her between
them.

Lieutenant Warden spun around like
a startled cat, only to recoil as Peetha, who had been between him and
Adrianne, stabbed two fingers towards his eyes. He recoiled a half-step back,
straight into the arms of Lord Tsano. One huge blacksmith’s hand closed around
the back of Marcus’ head, and the other grabbed his belt and lifted him bodily.
Held horizontally on his back in the air, the big Marine Lieutenant could only
flail his arms and legs ineffectually. His only contact, a left-handed,
inverted grip on Lord Tsano’s left arm, had no more effect than a child’s.

Corporal Gilman was having better
luck. She had reacted by running her feet up the back of the nearest seat, onto
the ceiling and down the other side, effectively breaking the grip of both
assailants on her wrists and forearms. She stood in a combat crouch in the
aisle between Prax’soua and Rash’koi, the latter breathing deeply from a hard
backwards kick that had landed in his belly. Doris was already pulling a set of
restraints from a small locker and reaching for Lieutenant Warden’s right hand.

Peetha slid past Rash’koi, dropped
low, and caught the foot that flashed toward her. Gilman twisted and went down
writhing onto her back in the aisle. From above her head Prax’soua threw his
body over her face and fought for control of either arm, both of which were
alternately hammering the back of his head or ripping at his ears. But his
weight did impede the gymnast’s flip that would have brought his opponent back
to her feet. Peetha clung to one foot and Rash’koi pinned Gilman’s other leg at
ankle and knee. After another few moments of intense wrestling, both struggling
Marines were fully shackled in wrist restraints and belted into passenger
seats, less injured in the process than their assailants. Prax’soua seemed the
worst for wear, one ear bloody and the other an angry red. His grin was almost
infectious.

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