Chapter 52
Connor was still dangling in the gloom, clutching Rudy and the cargo netting, when the rumble of the Lucky Sevens’s engines grew louder. It climbed, hauling them up above the site where his teammates had held out against impossible odds.
A lone light remained atop the arc of cargo containers they’d left behind. Forms darted around in that light, legs swiping.
Then the light went out, and he was inside the cargo bay airlock.
The outer door closed, and Rudy crawled out to the cargo bay, gasping and leaving a trail of blood. He glanced back at Connor, and in that moment there was no longer a history of two men who’d fought on opposite sides years ago.
There was only the acceptance of warriors that what they had just seen was bad.
Real bad.
Lem rushed to the sergeant’s side, took his arm, and led him out of the cargo bay. Drew sped after them, lending a hand once on the ramp.
But the rest of the team was still there. They sat on their butts, backs against crates and cases and bulkheads, sweat-soaked, blinking hard, and breathing harder.
They reeked of death and desperation.
Vicente was the first to snap out of it. He pushed up with a snort, then kissed his machine-gun. “Mamacita, never leave me, huh?”
He roared with laughter and walked out on unsteady legs.
Mosiah stood a moment later, bleeding from a gash on his upper arm.
Aubriella was next. She stared at her weapon for a moment. “I—I need to clean…my gun.”
She stumbled out, followed by Gregor and Yemi, who leaned against each other for support.
Connor got to his feet as Mosiah headed for the ramp and ran after the old man. “Hey!”
The client turned, bushy eyebrows dark with grime. “Yes?”
“What are those things?”
“Bugs, I guess.”
“You don’t know? You didn’t see them when you were here before?”
“No.” Mosiah licked his lips. “We didn’t really run into…anything.”
“Why’d they show up, then?”
“This is a planet, Mr. Rattakul. We traveled to one site all those years ago. Maybe they don’t operate in that area.”
It was a fair point. Apex predators—and these things certainly seemed to match that description—were often adapted to a particular region for its weather, terrain, and prey. Evolution had a purpose behind it.
But something about the old man’s body language seemed…evasive.
The rest of the team were watching now, squinting from where they sat.
Was Connor going to call out their employer? Would their job be put at risk?
No. Connor had worked enough jobs to know that clients always lied. They left out crucial details that would have bumped up the cost or delayed things to allow for preparation.
It was the nature of the business.
And business at that point in time was not good.
Mosiah glanced at Selen, nodded, then shambled out of the hold.
Kalpana pulled herself up using some of the cargo netting Connor hadn’t taken. She slung her sniper rifle over a shoulder and glared at Selen. “Don’t turn your back on that man.”
That drew an approving nod from Selen, who held a hand out to Connor.
He helped her up, noting the scrapes on her knuckles and the shaking of her arm. Her breathing was unsteady, but her footing was stable.
When Kalpana was gone and only the Moon twins remained, Selen pressed a hand against Connor’s chest.
The touch was intimate and blocked from their view. “That was stupid.”
He winced. “Which? I kind of made an art of stupidity.”
“Jumping out with those cargo nets.”
“Not challenging Mosiah?”
“I think he expected it. Anyway, he definitely deserved it.”
“I’ve jumped farther.” That was true, but it was also true that his ankles were still tender from the impact.
“You could have stayed up in the airlock.”
“My teammates were down there.”
Her nails dug into his flesh, and she leaned close enough that the smell of her sweat overpowered everything else. “I’m asking you to be more careful, understand?”
He patted her hand, then pulled it away. “Would you do any different?”
“Some things are replaceable.” Her eyes burned when she looked up into his. “Some aren’t.”
“My point exactly.”
She rolled her eyes. “You are the most stubborn man I have ever known.”
“You meant that as a compliment, right?” He grinned.
Her arms shot around him, and she squeezed him tight. “I’m going to go clean up.”
Connor tensed. He hadn’t changed his intent to save himself for Toshiko, but after such a stressful situation, Selen needed him.
She released him, head down. “If you don’t want me to stay in your cabin…?”
“It’s fine. Get cleaned up. I—” He pointed to the Moon twins. “—need to talk to them about what happened down there.”
Selen strolled to the ramp, hesitated to smile at Connor, then headed up.
Both of the Moons had remained still the whole time, heads slumped, elbows resting on knees.
Now Tim looked up. Blood trickled down his cheek from a shallow cut. “Fight of a lifetime.”
Connor squatted in front of the two of them. “Tell me what worked.”
“Not much.”
Tom chortled. “Bullets punched right through them.”
His brother frowned. “Yeah. Penetrating power worked against us.”
Connor looked at the Asp, which rested just inside the inner airlock hatch. “I used low-caliber ammunition with explosive tips. It seemed to work okay.”
“Can’t get much explosive on a bullet head.” Tim and his brother squinted at each other.
Then Tom closed his eyes. “But we could do some modifications.”
Tim’s lips pursed. “Fragmenting.”
“Fragmenting.”
“Every other round a shredder?”
Tom brushed a dirty hand through his hair. “Or every third.”
They sighed, then rose.
Tim cocked his head. “Want us to work with Vicente on this?”
Connor smiled. “Please. After you rest.”
“Where to now?”
“Our original destination. I’ll check with Martienne, but I think we may wait for a little daylight before setting down.”
The twins saluted and headed out.
Now that Connor was alone in the cargo bay, he had an opportunity to assess the damage.
He put away the cargo netting and cables he’d used for the evacuation, then checked the gear that had been brought up.
The lights. His armor. Some food and water. A case of ammunition. Another of grenades.
And Mosiah’s special cases.
Over half their ammunition was lost, abandoned to the bugs.
He pulled his swords and checked the blades. They would require a deeper clean, but there were no obvious nicks a gouges. So the exoskeletons could be hacked through easily enough.
That wasn’t the solution, though. And they needed one.
Soon.