Deathangel Page 3

  “You are incapable of command,” Bukk replied. “You panicked and killed a sizable percentage of our forces, not to mention you failed to negotiate terrain you knew was suspect.”

  “The simulation’s conditions changed. I had enough speed to get across that shit, and you know it.” To his credit, Jackson wasn’t backing down. Then again, he wasn’t accepting responsibility either.

  “Speed was not a factor, Rains,” Bukk replied. His enunciation was something like the snapping of a twig. “Your failure to see terrain mired your forces. That coil was an inspiration, but it would have taken a miracle to recover. Finishing the day with the bulk of your forces is preferable to dying in place. Tanks are not designed to do what you intended. Your non-playing vehicles simply opened fire. In a real situation, with friendly vehicles nearby, that would not have happened.”

  “I won the field, Bukk. That’s better than Tara’s done in the last three sims!”

  “Tara never killed anyone with friendly fire, Jackson,” Vannix replied. Her words had the effect Tara had wished them to have. The young Human’s posture changed. His shoulders sagged forward, and the bow in his chest disappeared.

  “We won,” he said, but the bluster was gone from his voice.

  Tara closed the distance quickly. Bukk and Vannix respectfully squared their shoulders. Rains didn’t bother to look at her. “You won at too great a cost, Jackson. I would rather lose than kill my own forces. Fratricide has no place on Force 25, is that clear?”

  “I didn’t mean to.” Rains’ voice was little more than a whisper.

  “That doesn’t matter. You won the field, but you effectively wiped out our combat power. We cannot function like that,” Tara said. “Another Oogar assault would have wasted the entire company.”

  “It’s a simulation.” Rains looked up at her. “With humans in those cockpits, it would have been a different story, and you know it.”

  Tara saw Bukk and Vannix look away from the conversation. Their uncomfortable shuffle in place turned Tara’s stomach into a cold ball of lead. “Humans would have realized they shouldn’t be firing in the general direction of their friends. They would have had the trigger discipline to stop firing. Like Bukk and Vannix, they would have known better. I cannot say the same for you, Peacemaker Rains.”

  “Whatever, Tara.” Rains snorted. He smirked, and a flash of teeth appeared through his lips. “A Peacemaker honors the threat.”

  “Not like that, they don’t,” Tara replied. She wanted to add something about him knowing better but decided against it. There was a time for learning, and it never came with embarrassment.

  She thought he was going to say something cute or snarky, but Rains frowned and looked away. They’d simulated combat operations for more than a week, two to three missions per day, and they weren’t getting better. Exploring options for command, different tactics, and differing techniques hadn’t changed the outcome. Experience told her the team needed some resemblance of continuity. They needed to know who and what were to be expected.

  Tara took a long, slow breath before she spoke. “There are two things that are readily apparent to me. One, we need a command structure we can train to. Having you all rotate through tanks and CASPers doesn’t work. That changes now. Vannix? When we sim, you’re in charge of the CASPer elements and the infantry. Bukk? You have the tanks.”

  “What about me?” Rains blustered. “What am I supposed to do?”

  Tara looked at him for a long moment, biting back the words she really wanted to say. “You’re with me, Rains. Until we figure out how to best use you, I want you as far away from the battlefield as possible.”

  The big Peacemaker’s fists clenched. Rains opened his mouth and closed it with a snort. Part of her wanted him to say something derisive. That same part of her also wanted to knock him on his ass, which served no real purpose. Instead, she lowered her chin and stared at him. Eyes locked on his, Tara stared until the man looked away. His attitude would have to be dealt with sooner rather than later. It would have to wait, though. There were other considerations. “I’m the best combat leader you have. That sim proved it, Tara.”

  “You’re nothing of the sort, Jackson,” Vannix said.

  “Nobody asked you, Vannix.”

  The white-furred Veetanho stepped forward, grabbed Rains by the arm, and spun him roughly toward her. “You threw the rest of us away to win the field. In real life, we’d all be dead right now.”

  “And we were dead in all the other sims, too. She didn’t do any better.” Rains shrugged off Vannix’s paw and whirled back to Tara. “What do you expect us to do? We can’t fight like this.”

  Tara nodded. “You’re exactly right, and that’s why we’re going to do it again with the new command structure until we get it right. You’ll handle whatever I decide is appropriate for you, Rains. You’re not a trained CASPer pilot, and you have no idea how to fight tanks. You have a lot to learn about combat operations, and we don’t have time to keep giving you chances.” There was more to say, but it needed to stay private. The hardest thing about leadership was walking the line between teaching points and public embarrassment. Her comments could wait, but not for very long. Any thoughts of a warm shower and change of uniform vanished in a heartbeat.

  “Fine,” Rains said. The disgust in his voice almost made Tara smile.

  Instead, she studied them. Taking the time to make lasting eye contact was something she’d seen Jessica use to her advantage. As she did, Tara said, “We’ll sim this new set up tomorrow at 0900 and again at 1400 hours. Depending on those outcomes, we’ll prepare to debark and get this mission underway.” Tara saw Rains flinch as if he was about to speak. She locked her eyes on him again. “It’s clear we are not ready to assume this mission. Not yet, at least. We need more troops. More weapons, too. Until we get more, we cannot be expected to survive any fight we face.”

  Bukk’s antennae twitched. “What would you have us do, Tara?”

  She looked at her friend for a long moment. “For now, we train. When we’re not in the sim, we figure out how to load more troops and weapon systems aboard Victory Twelve. We’re going to have to start the search for Snowman without everything we need, and that’s fine. But we can’t function shorthanded or outgunned for long. If we try, this mission won’t get off the ground. Bukk and Vannix, you’re released for the day. Chow is at 1800. Vannix, it’s your turn to prep chow, right?”

  Vannix grinned. “The merchant vessels traded well with us this morning. I have something special planned.”

  “Godsdamned cat food,” Rains mumbled, and the group laughed.

  Vannix punched him hard in the upper right shoulder. The group tension eased enough to allow Tara to feel as though she could walk away, but her job wasn’t finished. Another task called, and it wasn’t her favorite. Good commanders led by example. Mercenaries simply tried to stay alive. Tara Mason was a successful mercenary, but the mantel of command rested heavily on her shoulders.

  “Rains? You’re with me. We’ll get the sim ready for morning.” Tara swiped an errant lock of blonde hair away from her face and looked at the slate mounted on her left wrist. There wasn’t enough time to grab a flyer and head to the Raknar, a hundred kilometers away, before dinner. Her excursion would have to wait an hour or two. Xander Alison had found something he wanted her, and her only, to see. In the meantime, Jackson Rains needed her undivided attention for what her instructors would have called “wall-to-wall counseling.”

  Bukk and Vannix turned and moved toward the open bay door and into the bright Araf sun. In the distance, heat waves made the near horizon look unstable. Tara felt it matched the unstableness in her gut when she thought about the young, Human Peacemaker. Learning a lesson was always a good thing, but not at the potential cost of lives. Force 25 had too few to lose. Having her own force, mercenary or not, proved harder than she’d ever imagined.

  And we haven’t even started the mission.

  Tara sighed and put her hands on her h
ips for a moment. Eyes closed, her face toward Araf’s star, she clenched her jaw and thought of a farm untold light years away and the window she’d slipped through as a teenager. Had she known it would come down to this—her last chance for redemption, she might not have climbed out and run for Omaha.

  You can’t go back, Tara.

  You just can’t.

  * * * * *

  Chapter Three

  D’Nart Spaceport

  Araf

  Tara took a deep breath and stared up at the impassive face of Jackson Rains. The younger man had the build of a linebacker, and he moved with effortless grace. Standing on the tarmac, she expected him to square up in a fighting stance but immediately chided herself. He wasn’t a mercenary used to talking things out with his fists. If that had been the case, she would have been ready with a combat knife instead of words. He folded his arms across his chest.

  “This where you tell me what I’m doing wrong?”

  Tara bit the inside of her lower lip before she replied. “No. You’re going to tell me why your attitude has been piss-poor for the last two weeks. You weren’t angry or sullen when you got here. What changed?”

  “We have no chance of success. Our combat sims are ridiculous messes, and we’ve supposedly had all our supplies and logistics arranged for two weeks, but we’re still sitting here.”

  “We’re not ready.” Tara shook her head. “We have a mission, yes. I get that, Rains. But I’m not leaving this planet until we’re ready to function as team. Bukk and I have worked together before. Vannix seems ready to do whatever is asked. The biggest outlier on this team is you.”

  “Me?” Rains smiled. “I’ve been the strongest performer in the sims.”

  <> Lucille chimed in her ear.

  Tara touched her earpiece and muted the connection. Lucille might not like being shut out, but at this moment, Tara needed every bit of her sanity. A voice, helpful as it might have been, talking into her ear wouldn’t help her reach her objective. Tara knew Rains was wrong. She’d been watching their progress since day one.

  “You’re wrong, and it’s disheartening that you don’t realize it.” Tara sighed. “You keep flaunting your abilities, but you don’t really understand what it means to lead forces. You’re not ready to lead a pack of scouts to a bake sale, much less Force 25.”

  “I’m not ready?” Rains laughed. He ran a hand over his short black hair and wiped away the sweat beaded on his dark skin. “You’re a disgraced mercenary, Tara. That whole thing with Death On Tracks? Cowardice in the face of an enemy? Any of that ring a bell?”

  “You’re an ignorant ass, Rains,” Tara said, fuming. “Have you actually read anything official about the performance of Death On Tracks or my performance on Weqq? You’re a walking billboard for the uninformed and entitled.”

  “Entitled?” Rains dropped his hands. They hung loosely at his sides, but it was clear his temper was flaring.

  Good.

  “Yes, entitled. You think the velvet ropes should part and the heavens should shower light down on you just because you’re a Peacemaker.”

  “The third Human one.” Rains smiled. The look didn’t reach his eyes. “The first man—let’s not forget that.”

  The truth comes out.

  “You think that makes you special? Gods. The fact that you’re counting means you don’t care about the office. You care about what it can do for you. You want notoriety. You’re pissed off because the Guild hasn’t announced your appointment,” Tara said. “I bet all the fanfare around Jessica Francis and Nikki Sinclair really pisses you off, doesn’t it?”

  A wave of emotion rippled across his face. “They ain’t done anything special.”

  Tara laughed. “Really? Nikki Sinclair went after her father’s company. She put the Union before family and blood. How’s that not doing anything? And Jessica? Hell, she’s doing the same thing and stopping conflicts, putting down insurrections, and making allies. How is that not doing anything?”

  “Give me time,” Rains said. “I’ll show you.”

  “Like in the sim?” Tara shook her head. More hair tumbled across her face. She was tempted to reach up and fix it, but on the off-chance Rains was dumb enough to try something, doing so could give him the ultimate opportunity. “You perform like that in a few missions, and they’ll be carving your name on the Memorial Wall. You know, the one on Kleve? You’d be first, I imagine. The first Human Peacemaker to die in the line of duty.”

  “Ain’t gonna happen,” Rains said. “Once you fail, I’ll take over the mission, and we’ll find Snowman. That will be all the proof I need.”

  “Proof?” Tara felt blood rushing to her head. She could feel her skin flush, and she consciously forced her hands to unclench. Remaining calm and composed was the mark of a leader, no matter how bad the situation became.

  “Yeah,” Rains said. “That you were the worst choice for this mission. You’re a coward who got the Guild Master to believe whatever bullshit you were peddling. When it’s all said and done, a malfunction or something will take you off the battlefield while your subordinates are dying all around you. That’s what happened here, on Araf, right? How many of your crew made it off this planet?”

  “Nothing happened to take me off the field. I left my tank to jump into a CASPer and fill a position in the line while all hell broke loose. You want to search my service records? You can find them in the Peacemaker Guild’s archives.”

  “Yeah. You and Jessica just happened to survive.” Rains laughed. “How convenient.”

  Calm and composed leadership flew out the proverbial window. Tara charged forward, hitting Rains in the chest with both hands. The shove sent the Peacemaker stumbling backward. The surprise on his face changed to anger. Tara stopped and pointed a finger at his chest. Her voice was higher than she wanted it to be, but the words came of their own volition in a cascade of anger.

  “Don’t talk to me about convenience, Jackson Rains. You’ve never had to watch the backs of the people to your left and right. You’ve never had rounds fired at you in anger or watched kids under your command die to save each other. You’ve never had anyone’s back. That’s why you think you’re better than me, than Jessica, maybe even Guild Master Rsach. You like working alone, like all Peacemakers do. But the minute you’re under fire and watching those around you—the ones you keep at arm’s distance and think you’re better than—dying because you fucked up? Tell me then how convenient it is that they saved your life. Tell me then what it’s like to know the only reason you’re alive is because someone put themselves in a position to protect you simply because you were with them. There’s nothing convenient about this business. Maybe, by the time we find Snowman, you’ll learn that lesson. I hope you don’t have to learn it by losing someone you care about.”

  Rains lowered his hands slightly. “You’re saying I’m not prepared for combat? I think the sims say differently.”

  “They do.” Tara nodded. “The sims always say differently. You have a great deal of aptitude, Rains. The problem is you don’t understand consequences. The Oogar sim is designed to show you the absolute worst defensive strategy—the fight or die one. But it’s just a sim. Until you’re watching something feral, bent on rending your arms and legs from your body in a snarling fit of rage, and understand it’s just you and your CASPer or armor to stop them? Yeah, that’s when grown men piss themselves. You don’t know how bad it can be. The trouble is, right now, you think you do. That will get you killed.”

  “We’ll see about that, Tara.” Rains smiled. He straightened up and turned to walk away. “Was there something else you wanted to talk about? I mean, you’re keeping your boyfriend waiting and all.”

  Tara’s mouth fell open. Xander Alison wasn’t her boyfriend. The digger and his crew had helped supply Force 25, but that was it.

  Wasn’t it?

  She heard Rains snicker to himself as he started to
work on the simulation gear.

  Dammit.

  She watched him gathering and sorting the simulation cables without additional instructions and heard him laughing under his breath. Fresh anger surged through her veins, and for a moment, she considered chasing Rains down and beating the smirk off his face once and for all.

  No. That’s what he wants. Tara reached up, pulled out the tie keeping her long, dirty, blonde hair out of her face, and re-positioned it as she watched Rains. The young Peacemaker was beyond teaching. Until Force 25 went up against a real opponent over real ground and objectives, he’d maintain he was the better leader. It couldn’t be helped, and there were more important things on her agenda than arguing with an over-confident Peacemaker.

  He’ll learn. Kids like him always learn the hard way. Until that happened, there wasn’t anything she could do.

  The afternoon sun warm against her back, Tara turned to the south and saw the familiar crags of Mount Klatk in the distance. Hidden among the rolling terrain was the Raknar she and Jessica had defended against two mercenary companies barely a year before. So much had happened since Hex Alison, Kei Howl, and the others died defending the Altar. The Selroth and GenSha, the very enemies who’d stoked the fires of war back then, worked together in every way to make Araf the Dream World it should have been from the start. Their peaceful collaboration gave Tara hope that it was possible for unlikely allies to work together for a common good.

  Force 25 depended on it.

  Tara touched her earpiece and reengaged the connection to Lucille. “Sorry, Lucille. I was talking to Rains again. One of these days I might have to stomp a mud hole in his ass.”

  <>

  Tara laughed, and her tension seemed to ease slightly. “It’s an expression. One of my instructors from the CASPer course said it all the time.”

  <