The Glorious Becoming (30 page)

“We’ve got your back, man,” said Max. “If anyone tries to pull something on Sveta while you’re gone, we’ll take care of ’em.”

“Remington!”

At the sound of the new voice, Scott turned around. It was Antipov, the chief eidolon from Thoor’s counsel. The scruffy captain was approaching him, slip of paper in hand. Leaving the company of his comrades, Scott met him. “Important things to remember,” Antipov said. “You and Broll are both trained Nightmen. You have forgotten what it is like to fight like EDEN. Be aware of yourself in combat. Resist the urge to fight like you know you can. It can give you away.”

That was true. Oleg got revealed when Becan saw him fighting on the battlefield.

“Here is the comm frequency for the extraction team. Do not program it into your comm. Queue it only when you need it.” Nodding to the transport behind Scott, Antipov went on. “Discuss everything you were told with your team. About the war, about the Khuladi. Everything. That order does not come from Thoor; it comes from me. They need to know why this mission must be.”

Slapping Scott on the shoulder, the eidolon leader nodded. “You will bring the alien home to us. I know you will.” A Nightman salute was exchanged, then Antipov turned and walked away.

Eidolon status aside, he’s probably one of the most amicable Nightmen I’ve ever met.
Scott looked at the slip of paper with the extraction team’s comm frequency. Folding it, he slipped it into his pocket.
I cannot lose this. I need it on me at all times.

“Hey, Scott,” said Max, “I think they’re prepping up.”

Scott looked at the transport, which was indeed preparing to taxi. Auric and Boris hopped inside. Scott could only assume that Esther was already in, too. It didn’t surprise him that the scout wasn’t mingling.

This is it.

Thoughts of Svetlana danced briefly through his head. He’d left her behind so coldly. She didn’t know he was doing this for her.

Emotions in check. Stay focused on the mission. Get it done, then get back home.
Scott slung his duffle bag over his shoulder once again. He looked at Max, David, and Becan. “Be on guard. Don’t let Sveta out of your sight.”

“Aye, aye, cap’n,” Max answered, offering a salute.

Scott gazed at the three men for a moment. This was all happening so fast. It hadn’t struck him that he was about to leave three of his best friends. Extending a hand, he grasped Max’s hand firmly and pulled him in for a chest-bump. Max, the man who had once been his arch-rival, who had once resented Scott so vehemently that it called for a physical beating, was now as close a friend to Scott as anyone else. Scott couldn’t see the blond technician in any other way.

“Take care, man.”

“You too, bro.”

The same gesture went toward Becan. He recalled the first time he ever met the Irishman. David and he had heard Becan’s voice inside their neighboring room in
Richmond
. Neither man had ever met anyone else like him.

“I love ya, B.”

“Back at yeh, Remmy.”

Then there was David. David Jurgen, former NYPD officer. Former best friend. Time had healed their wounds somewhat, but their friendship had never fully recovered from the rocky road that began with the death of Galina. The uneasiness between them had lessened, but not fully disappeared.

Make it right, Scott. Make it right now.

Their hands clutched. The chest-bump came. But the right words stayed unsaid.

“I’ll see you soon, man.”

“Be safe, Scott.”

Emotions in check. Stay focused on the mission. It was easier said than done. Forcing reflection to the back of his mind, Scott set out toward the transport.

Goodbye, Novosibirsk. For now.

Walking up the ramp, he saw his three chosen operatives strapping themselves into their seats. It was a standard civilian transport, not a Vulture or military model. The seats were very much like typical airliner seats, except this flight had no other passengers. Spotting his old EDEN armor in the corner, he focused on his golden collar. The battle garb of the Golden Lion—he hadn’t donned it in a year. It was no longer who he was. And he could accept that. Turning around, Scott gave the hangar a final look. Then he saw him.

The sniper walked into the hangar quickly, as if he’d been rushing to make it in time. His cowboy hat was firm on his head, his duffle bag in place.

Jayden.

Plopping his bag down awkwardly, almost stumbling, the Texan took a single step forward, then paused. He was waiting to be called. Even from the distance, Scott could sense the sniper’s heart pounding. “Oh, Jay...” he whispered to himself.

The other operatives who’d gathered in the hangar stared in silence. The ball was in Scott’s court.

What am I supposed to do?
He had no practical use for a sniper. This was a covert operation. He didn’t need trigger men. On top of all of that, only four operatives total had been given transfer approval. Yet the sight of the Texan’s desperation tore at Scott’s heart. “Veck.” Motioning with a single head nod, Scott beckoned Jayden into the transport.

The look on Jayden’s face was pure elation. Snatching his duffle bag, the Texan ran full speed toward the ship. “Thank you so much, man!” Jayden said as he hurried up the ramp. “Thank you
so
much.”

“If you die, I’m gonna kill you,” Scott said. Jayden’s rifle and armor were clunking around in the duffle bag. What about everything else the Texan owned? Scott didn’t even want to know. Slapping the side of the ship, Scott yelled at the pilot. “Let’s go!” He walked to his seat, the ramp whining as it lifted behind him.

Esther, Auric, Boris, and now Jayden.

This was going to be fun
didn’t begin to describe it.

17

WEDNESDAY, MARCH 14
^TH
, 0012 NE

0724 HOURS

“A
LL RIGHT,
everyone,” said the pilot over the cabin speakers, “you’re free to move about.”

Unfastening his seat belt, Scott stretched out his legs. None of the other four operatives had said a word during liftoff, the uneasiness thick between them. It was ironic that of all the people on the mission, the only one who was looking forward to it was the one who wasn’t supposed to be going. For everyone other than Jayden, this was out of their control.

“Hey man,” the Texan said as he walked to Scott’s row. Everyone had taken seats rows apart from each other, lost in their own personal solitudes during takeoff. “Mind if I sit down?”

The honest answer was
yes
. But cordiality prevailed. “Nah, man, go ahead.”

“Thanks.” Jayden sat down next to him. “So what can you tell me about the mission?”

“It is what it is,” answered Scott. “An extraction of a Ceratopian target.”

“But what is everybody gonna be doin’?”

The last thing Scott wanted to do was recap the entire mission brief. Jayden would have to settle for a summary. “Esther’s doubling as a civilian contractor. That ponytail she’s wearing, it’s not real. When she takes it off and changes her hair, she looks like someone else.” It was a tad more complex than that. “She’s going in as Calliope Lee.”

“Calliope Lee?”

“Yep. She’s going to sneak in and try to find H`laar. After she finds him, we’re going to call an extraction team to help us get him out.”

Adjusting his eye patch, the Texan looked at the others. “What about Auric and Boris?”

“Boris is a hacker. Auric’s just assistance. That’s what you’ll be doing, too. Just treat this like a real transfer. I’ll be right there with you.”

“I can’t wait to see Venus.”

Scott blinked. “What?”

“Venus, man. I heard she’s hot.”

“Okay, first off, the woman’s name isn’t
Venus
. Second of all,” he said with intentional loudness, “why was someone giving you details about the covert operation?”

Boris shifted in his seat from several rows up. The tech looked down and whistled.

Setting Jayden straight, Scott reviewed with him the three individuals they’d been told about: Captain
Natalie
Rockwell—not
Venus
Rockwell—Lieutenant Logan Marshall, and the chief of Xenobiology, Giro Holmes. He relayed to Jayden everything he remembered from his discussion with Antipov. That part of Antipov’s “tell them everything” request was easy. Telling Jayden about Esther was the hard part.

Auric and Boris knew about Esther, and the Texan deserved to know, too. Scott retold the story as best he could—with honesty. Esther confessed her feelings to him, he reacted poorly, and they’d had a fallout. After the mission, she’d be transferred to
London
.

As Scott delved further and further into the story, Jayden’s expression grew more solemn. These weren’t things the Texan had expected to hear. Scott hadn’t realized it until he was halfway through his explanation, but Esther’s departure would directly affect the sniper. She was his eyes on the battlefield even before he’d lost one of them. Scott was sure that played a part in Jayden’s downbeat reaction.

Scott was trying to think of Esther in as practical a way as possible. The less emotion he dedicated to her, the better for him and the mission. He was torn about Esther. He didn’t want her to leave the Fourteenth, but at this point, he firmly felt it was for the best. Even with his efforts at reconciliation, tempers had flared. He blamed himself for the total mismanagement of their situation. Esther didn’t realize it, but he was blaming
her
less by the minute. His coldness toward Svetlana during their goodbye only quantified Scott’s
jerk
status.

I need to talk to the rest of the crew, let them know what’s going on.
Scott tapped Jayden on the knee. “Come with me.” As the two men stood up, they approached the others. “Gather around, guys. We’ve got some stuff to talk about.”

Auric and Boris joined immediately. After a brief stare-down, Esther did, too.

They listened intently as Scott explained the big picture—who the Khuladi were, how they “judged” other species, and what happened when those other species lost. He explained how the Bakma were being used as instruments of the Khuladi, attacking Earth on behalf of their masters. He talked about the Ceratopians and their suspected motives to beat the Khuladi in capturing Earth—Interstellar Midway. Everything, from the War of Retribution to the Golathochian Subjugation, was thoroughly covered. As for the connection between the Ceratopians and Archer... that was what they were going to
Cairo
to find out.

The rest of the flight was one of the most unsettling rides Scott could remember. It rivaled the ride home from the Bakma outpost, in the aftermath of Lieutenant Novikov’s needless death. This mission required confidence and cohesiveness; right now, he wasn’t sure they had either. No speech or inspirational message could change that—not during the flight. This had to run its course. And if the past twenty-four hours were any indication, it would only get more complicated by the minute.

Unfortunately, they had a lot of minutes to go.

* * *

AT THE SAME TIME

I
T WAS AS ODD
a feeling as anyone in the lounge could remember. Scott, Esther, Jayden, Auric, and Boris were gone. There were five holes that couldn’t be filled. Where did the unit go from there? There were so many questions—and they all fell on Yuri Dostoevsky.

Though time had brought forgiveness to the man who’d arranged Nicole’s murder, the memory of his failed stint as captain remained. He’d changed since then, become a different person. But would that add up to a better leader? Ready or not, and with the remaining crew gathered in the lounge, it was time to find out. All eyes were on him as he began his first address.

“I won’t pretend like this is easy for me,” Dostoevsky said to them. “This situation is not easy for any of us. Just the same, we are the Fourteenth. We have been tested many times. We need only continue what we know how to do.” He looked at his new acting commander. “Max, does the status of the V2 change without Boris?”

Max glanced at Travis. “I think it’ll be fine.” Travis nodded quietly. “Thing’s kinda maintenance-free, really.”

Nodding, Dostoevsky moved on. “Without Esther and Jayden, our dynamic on the battlefield changes. We must rely more on frontal assault. Our style must become, as Scott would have said it, ‘smash mouth.’” He looked at William and Egor. “I want you two training together. You will both have increased roles. For the rest of you,” he said, “continue to train hard and focus on your jobs. We will begin practice runs tomorrow using new formations. That is all for now. Dismissed.”

While the rest of the room dispersed, Max, David, and Becan approached Dostoevsky. The fulcrum canted his head.

“Something you need to know,” said Max discreetly. “Thoor forced Scott on this mission by threatening Sveta. Thoor said if he failed, she’d be killed.”

Dostoevsky scowled. “This is exactly what happened with Tolya Novikov.”

“We can’t leave her alone,” said Becan. “Not at all.”

Dostoevsky opened his mouth to say something, but Svetlana’s arrival to the small gathering stopped him. All discussion abruptly ended. Running fingers through her frizzled hair, the disheveled medic was visibly distressed.

“Sveta?” Dostoevsky asked. “Are you okay?

For several seconds, she gave no response. Then slowly, her face twisted. “No...”

The men went into protective-brother mode immediately. Hands reaching to her, their faces exuded concern. “What’s wrong, girl?” Max asked.

She waved her hands frenetically. “Nothing, it is nothing. I should not be this upset. I just...”

“You just what?”

“Scott, he,” she cut herself off. “Nothing happened that doesn’t normally happen, but that’s the problem. I thought this morning—I thought...” Her words were stumbling almost incoherently. “This is stupid. I am just a stupid girl hoping someone she loves loves her.”

“Hey, hey,” said David, patting her on the shoulder. “Whatever happened this morning, you
know
that man loves you.”