We assembled in the transporter docking bay, listening to the drone of the engines as they warmed up one of the armoured transporters. We all stowed our gear inside the transporter, then donned the wind-proof suits that would stop us suffering from hypothermia, hanging off the side of a rapidly moving flying tank. There were four gunner seats; front and rear on both the port and starboard sides. I took front starboard, and with a nod from Bryce, assigned Kade to the rear starboard, so I could keep an eye on him. We would have an open communication channel via the helmets, but given this was our first real mission together, I felt better keeping him within sight when possible.
Half an hour later, we were waving goodbye to the last dregs of the jungle south of Hon, leafy green replaced with dusty beige. “Heads up, folks,” Bryce said, through the comm channel. “We’ve got two hours of this. And if anyone hasn’t shot at something by the end of this, I will be asking questions.”
He was joking, but only just. Given the proximity of our flight path to Geshtoch territory, the chances of getting through this without having to shoot at them were slim.
The first hour passed without incident. The desert was mostly featureless, just endless plains of hard-baked sand. Occasional rocky outcrops broke up the landscape, and the pilot deliberately avoided them, knowing they were prime hiding spots for the Geshtoch.
Then, just over the halfway mark of the journey, I saw Kade suddenly swing around in his seat. The rocket launchers were mounted on brackets attached to the transporter, designed to swivel so that the gunner had a full one-eighty degree range of motion. Kade’s focus was on something out to the west of us, and I automatically tracked the direction of his gaze. I couldn’t see anything out there. But a moment later, the boom of the rocket launcher being fired cracked over the rumble of the transporter engine. Off in the sand, a small explosion plumed into the air.
“Unconfirmed movement at three o’clock,” Kade reported, letting the two on the other side of the transporter know what was going on.
“What did you see?” I asked him, not because I didn’t trust him, but because I hadn’t seen anything, and I was curious as to what he’d picked up.
“Something shimmering,” he said, eyes still trained on the desert to the west. “Could have just been the heat. Or it could have been something metallic.”
“Plenty of crashed ships out this way,” the pilot chimed in. He was a human man by the name of Carlos Bidge, and he’d told us early in the flightthat he’d been flying for the military for over ten years. “I’m not saying don’t shoot at them. But it’s good to know they’re there, nonetheless.”
Another two minutes passed, all of us keeping our eyes peeled for the slightest hint of trouble. And then two shots sounded from the port side of the transporter. “Movement at ten o’clock,” Bryce said, his voice a calm rumble. Two more shots, and the pilot banked westwards.
“Geshtoch are returning fire,” the pilot said, just the faintest tremor in his voice. “Taking evasive action.”
Two more shots came from the port side, and then Bryce reported, “Direct hit. Geshtoch are abandoning pursuit.”
Over the next hour, we had to shoot at targets three more times. One was unconfirmed movement, spotted by Vosh, while the other two were confirmed targets taken out by Kade and myself. One was a lone pair of Geshtoch on foot – no less dangerous for their lack of hoverbikes and pack mates – and the other was a small encampment stationed around the base of a rock pillar. As a result of our shots, a significant section of the rock broke off from further up the pillar, landing on the camp with a thud that sent up a great plume of dust. A small part of me felt bad for shooting at people who hadn’t been threatening us… but another part of me knew that we were fifty kilometres past the end of designated Geshtoch territory, and therefore, these people had no right to be here in the first place. I desperately hoped that the Parliament came up with a solution to this constant bickering between us sooner, rather than later.
◊◊◊
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ma’am,” I said, as Bryce completed the introductions of our small group, all of us standing at attention in front of Associate Fi Nors. She was a Solof, tall and slender, with vibrant purple skin. “I hear you have ambitious plans for the terraforming north of Adavi.”
“I certainly do,” Associate Nors said, tossing her long, purple hair behind her shoulder and beaming at me. “But I’ll spare you the details. Get me talking about terraforming and we’ll be here all day. I’m very grateful to you for coming, though. I understand your transporter took some minor damage on the way here?” she asked, turning a quizzical look Bryce’s way.
“Superficial damage only,” he said. “Nonetheless, the Adavi base is taking a look at it, just to make sure everything’s in good shape for the return trip.” That, more than anything else, was why we needed to stay the night. No transport mission through Geshtoch territory ever made a return trip on the same day, partly to avoid running into the same Geshtoch we’d pissed off earlier today, and partly to allow any repairs to be carried out on the transporter. We’d gotten off lightly this time, but there had been plenty of times the vehicles had sustained more serious damage.
“Well, since we have time, I’d love to show you around the garden district of the city this afternoon,” Associate Nors said, sounding excited about the idea. As many Solof women did, she’d dusted her face with a metallic makeup, making her purple skin shimmer slightly. “And this evening, I’m treating you all to dinner at Toda’s Grill. They serve the finest Denzogali cuisine in the entire city.”
I blinked, not sure how to respond to the announcement. As a military escort, we’d been expecting to be doing nothing more than cooling our heels all afternoon, followed by a standard military dinner in the Adavi base’s canteen. I looked at Bryce, not sure whether her kind gesture would be breaking regulations.
He gave a minute shrug, then said, “That’s most kind of you, Associate. We’d be honoured.”
“Oh, call me Fi,” Associate Nors said. One of her aides softly cleared their throat, which Associate Nors pointedly ignored.
“Excuse me, Associate?” the woman ventured, when her attempt at subtlety failed, but Nors waved her off.
“I have no patience for unnecessarily rigid decorum,” she said. “I am a citizen of Rendol 4, just like these gentlemen, and given that they’re risking their lives to protect mine, I think it’s perfectly reasonable for them to call me by my given name.”
I was grateful I wasn’t in charge of this mission, as Associate Nors went entirely off script. We’d been briefed by Henderson on the very official and very formal nature of this visit, and now, we were all left floundering. Thankfully, Bryce had a handle on appropriate etiquette.
He smiled at her. “We’re as grateful to you for your service in improving this planet as you are to us for protecting you. And that’s not idle flattery. Terraforming progress along the east coast is two years ahead of schedule and we’re already beginning to see more stable temperatures as a result. I’d be delighted to see the gardens. And I’m sure my colleagues would agree.”
The rest of us made various noises of assent, and then we were collecting our gear and heading off to get settled into the barracks, with plans to meet Associate Nors at the base entrance in half an hour’s time.
The afternoon’s excursion was an entirely welcome break from the usual military routine, as we meandered slowly around immaculate gardens that showcased ecosystems from all six of the Alliance’s homeworld planets. I was particularly fascinated by the Wasopish rain gardens, where tiny sprinklers kept the plants constantly wet, and not only the flowers, but the leaves of the plants boasted vibrant and varied colours.
After they’d calmed down from the break in protocol, Associate Nors’ two aides turned out to be cheerful and well-educated women. Lin, in particular – the older of the two – was eager to drop interesting tidbits ofinformation into the conversation, and I got the impression that Kade found the impromptu education fascinating.
Back at the base, we showered, then met Associate Nors at the restaurant. In the hour or so since we’d last seen her, she’d secured her purple hair into eight long braids – a typical Solof style – and donned a long, black dress that highlighted her curves. If I’d been attracted to women, I would probably have found her rather stunning. As it was, I could appreciate her beauty on an objective level. Vosh, on the other hand, spent the evening blushing and stuttering, her yellow skin splotching orange every time Nors glanced her way.
Despite Nors’ intention to give us a pleasant night off, I found the whole situation rather awkward – as did both Kade and Vosh. Since we didn’t want to take advantage of her hospitality, we all chose relatively inexpensive meals – I suggested two different options to Kade, letting him choose which one he wanted – and I had to turn down an offer of alcohol not once, but three times. I had no objection to drinking on principle, but it was strictly forbidden while on duty, and Nors didn’t seem to pick up on the nuances of our attendance here. Only Bryce seemed at ease, smiling and chatting throughout the meal, though he, too, chose a very middle-of-the-range meal and also refused to drink.
