Aurora Rising: The Complete Collection (105 page)

Just like herself. “Oh, David….”

“…looking for the commanding officer?”

Miriam waved the medic off and pressed the medwrap to her neck as she twisted around in the direction of the voice. “Can I help you?”

“Captain David Solovy, 3
^r
d
Regiment, 1
^st
Brigade, NW Region. Apologies, ma’am, but the information I was provided stated a Commander Llahso oversaw the station here on Perona?”

The captain stood twenty centimeters taller than her. She made an effort to straighten her shoulders in spite of the fracture in her collarbone, which she decided was a fairly stupid thing to do when a jolt of pain screamed down her arm.

“He does—or did.” She gestured over her shoulder with her uninjured arm at the row of medical cots behind her. “He took a TSG to the chest three hours ago. The doctors don’t know if he’ll survive. I’m the XO, Major Miriam Draner.”

“That’s unfortunate for him. I hope he recovers.” A sly smirk pulled at the man’s lips. “Less unfortunate for me, however. It is a pleasure to meet you, Major.”

She realized she was staring and schooled her expression. “What can I do for you, Captain Solovy?”

“Ah, right. My mission. I lead the tactical assault detachment to the
EAS Trafalgar
. We’re the reinforcements the Commander requested. I’m here to help you dig these gandonov out of their hole.”

The medwrap must be secure by now, so she dropped her hand from her neck. She had caught the edge of a Daemon beam in the doomed push which had taken out Llahso. The proximity of the wound to her carotid artery meant it had been a close call, but she didn’t have time to dwell on it now.

She indicated for Solovy to follow her and headed out of the med tent. “Excellent. I’m glad your team has arrived. We nearly took out their primary turret in the last offensive, but we failed and are down seven soldiers as a result.”

He matched her step for step through the center of the hastily erected forward operating post as they crossed to the command center in the opposite corner. “What’s the background? My briefing was scarce on details.”

She shrugged, which was also a fairly stupid thing to do. A cringe followed it. “Your standard over-committed radicals. In this case I believe they imagine Perona will be better served by a Leninist utopia, but they—”

“Goret etim pidarasam v adu….” He cleared his throat. “Apologies, ma’am. Please continue.”

Interesting that the memories of the damage inflicted on Russia still lingered more than three hundred years later in its descendants. “Yes. Well. As I was about to say, they are exceedingly well armed and have fortified their compound with a noteworthy amount of ballistic weaponry. How they got their hands on such weaponry is a matter for another day, but suffice it to say we were not prepared for the extent of it.”

“Is that why Commander Llahso was injured?”

“No. He was injured because he was showing off for the soldiers in an attempt to compensate for his innate insecurities. By the point he insisted on leading an incursion we were fully aware of the terrorists’ capabilities.”

“Then I’m even more glad you’re in charge now.”

She frowned as they reached the command center, unsettled by how familiar the man was being, but was interrupted by three separate subordinates arriving to update her on various details. Finally she succeeded in activating a large screen above the center table.

“The primary obstacle is one of vantage. Their compound lies in a depression at the base of the mountains and there’s no way to get to the two large turrets they’ve set up behind the outer wall without exposing ourselves. Our drones are shot down before they can lock and fire.”

“A couple of shots from a fighter would take them out. But I’m guessing you’re trying to avoid the collateral damage sure to result.”

“Those are our orders, yes. The Peronan governor doesn’t want a bloodbath, lest he be accused of slaughtering ‘freedom fighters.’ It is complicating matters.”

“Politicians usually do.”

She spared at sideways glance at Solovy. Distinctive Slavic cheekbones and a strong jaw should have given him a hard, cold appearance, yet somehow his features were warm and welcoming.

A corner of his mouth curled up, and she jerked her gaze away. “It’s not my place to question my orders, not as of yet. The fact is we need an infiltration team to clear the wall and take out those turrets so a larger force can enter, subdue the leaders and arrest the followers.”

He nodded firmly. “We can do that.”

“How many soldiers did you bring?”

“Enough.”

“How many, Captain?”

He rolled his eyes. Entirely too familiar. “Twelve. Counting me.”

She snorted. “It’s your corpse.”

He shifted to lean against the table and face her. “If my team goes in and takes out both turrets and the wall, clearing the way for your soldiers, will you have dinner with me?”

“Excuse me, Captain?”

“Dinner. With me. Preferably somewhere offering candles and proper Russian vodka, but I’ll understand if Perona doesn’t yet have such finery. Alternatively, a picnic in these picturesque mountains and I’ll bring the vodka.”

Of all the impertinence! How dare this man swagger into her command center and lounge about on her command table and throw around romantic advances in the middle of a combat situation….

“Captain, please remove yourself from my table. You’re interfering with the data reaching the screens.”

He pushed off the table. “Haven’t had any difficulty settling into command, I see.”

“I do what is required in the circumstances.”

He regarded her silently for several seconds. There was nowhere for her to go to escape those piercing eyes. “Do you now. You haven’t answered my question.”

“That’s because your question was inappropriate and I have far more important matters to consider. Like the fact you didn’t bring enough men. I’ll need to loan you several of my experienced officers. Please try to not get them killed.”

“Keep your men, Major. I brought enough.”

“I am in com—”

“Go to dinner with me.”

She dragged a hand along her jaw; somewhat to her dismay, it came away streaked in blood. Was it hers? She didn’t think so. Llahso’s, then. “Captain, you—”

“After this mission is complete and while off-duty, don’t worry. I respect the regulations. I have a few days leave left for the year. I’ll stay here an extra day or two. Or three.”

She glared at him dubiously. “You would give up your leave to stay on this backwater planet and take me to dinner? You only met me five minutes ago.”

He smiled, and god help her but it was a remarkable sight. “Life is short and you are beautiful. Go to dinner with me. It will give me motivation to make it out of the compound alive.”

“If it will halt this egregious flirting and allow you to focus on the mission, fine. Now can we please concentrate on devising our plan of attack?”

“Of course, nastoyatel’.”

Alone in her office, Miriam sank against the wall and brought a hand to her mouth.

She had never met anyone like him, before or since. The dashing manner, casual confidence and easy charisma had been evident immediately. The tremendous soul, fierce loyalty and pure heart had revealed themselves later, though not so very much later.

God how she missed him.

Then she was laughing, in a way which bore a tinge of the wild, free laugh she had only ever shared in David’s company. He had ignored all her defenses as if they were invisible and forced his way inside with grace, charm and aplomb. Perhaps this Marano character had done the same to Alexis….

But she didn’t know how to do such a thing. Especially when she was so busy propping up her own barriers.

35

PANDORA

I
NDEPENDENT
C
OLONY

R
ICHARD HAD VISITED
P
ANDORA
several times in his younger days, but it had been years. Nevertheless, the stark shift in the atmosphere of the devil-won’t-care world from the previous trips was starkly apparent.

The spaceport bustled not with tourists eager to begin a vacation but with desperate visitors and residents alike eager to depart, yet not knowing where to go. ‘West’ did seem to be the general consensus and transports to Arcadia, Atlantis, Demeter, Earth and Fionava were all marked as sold out for days. Though he’d feel guilty displacing a civilian, he would be able to obtain a seat when the time came.

His meeting was at a pub not far from the spaceport. He decided to walk.

During the flight his mind had been too consumed by matters other than his mission and he needed to get his head canted straight. But first he allowed himself one final moment to despair in the revelation which had brought him here, and its aftermath.

He was not a violent man. He had committed acts of violence of course, in the First Crux War and later as a field agent. He wasn’t proud of many of them…a few he was, if you got him drunk enough.

Still, his nature was not that of a violent man. As a rule he preferred to resolve tense situations through dialogue, or if dialogue failed through threats he preferred not to be required to fulfill.

But when Will grabbed his upper arm as he rounded the corner toward the lift, he came within a heartbeat of cold-cocking the man who pretended to be his husband.

“Give me a chance to explain.”

A stinging, bleak chill vibrated along his skin, freezing the fire in his chest. Sounds and voices echoed at him through a hollow tunnel. His soul was flayed inside out; he felt brittle, as if the faintest touch would shatter him to pieces on the ground.

The only thing which held his body together, if not his mind, was the knowledge he had a job to do. His life may lie crumbled in ruins at his feet, but he could save other lives. He could end this war, and perhaps his obituary would acknowledge the contribution he had made in the otherwise farce his life had been.

“I’m going to Pandora to meet your boss. If your belongings aren’t out of the house when I return, I will burn them. Do not contact me. Do not attempt to see me. You’ve made a fool of me for fifteen years. Don’t think you can do so for one breath longer.”

“Richard, please—”

The anguish in the eyes of the man standing opposite him did not breach his frozen shroud. “Goodbye, Will.”

He spun—violently—and lurched onto the lift. He didn’t look back.

Richard leaned against the façade of a theatre and closed his eyes. He corralled all the thoughts, images and sentiments that would paralyze then crush him, and forced them behind a wall in a dark corner of his mind. There they would remain until this was done, after which they were free to do to him as they pleased.

Then he opened his eyes and continued walking down the street.

He knew a good bit about Graham Delavasi, as an adversary if not an outright enemy. Former military special forces, he had joined Senecan Intelligence after the First Crux War. Gaining a reputation for pulling no punches and exhibiting a keen eye for artifice and duplicity, he rose quickly within the department despite playing fast and loose with the rules and refusing to respect political niceties. He had been named Director of Intelligence three years earlier.

His reputation had always struck Richard as indicating the kind of man he might have liked were they not situated on opposite sides of the diplomatic divide. Now it appeared he had his chance to find out.

The Director had beat him to the pub and claimed a booth in the back corner. Other than those seated at the bar, the establishment wasn’t crowded and no patrons occupied the surrounding tables. Still, a surveillance shielding device sat discreetly on the table.

He slid in the booth before Delavasi could stand, but the man extended a hand across the table. “Colonel Navick, I’m glad we were able to meet in person. Under the circumstances I’m sure it was as difficult for you to slip away as it was for me.”

He accepted the hand but kept his bearing formal. Delavasi did not, adopting a casual slouch in the booth like he was about to toss back a few beers with a buddy.

“It seems we have ourselves a small alien invasion. Any chance we’re going to be able to stop them?”