8
Veta followed the Rhimodian away from the clearing, what was left of the Terran soldiers left in the brush. After she went through their gear for anything usable, she made sure they were out of sight. Her Rhimodian companion helped with that.
She grabbed their communicators, but they’d been coded to the individuals, and she’d have to really work to hack into them. If she needed them, though, she had them.
She did grab any extra rations or weapons. The Rhimodian had taken everything from the escape pod before, and she added to the bags, loading them both up before they left.
What she’d been confused by in the battle before was now solid.
The Terrans really had shot her down.
She hoped she could reach the princesses, and that they’d had better luck than her. Hopefully, the rest landed and got to safety.
A personal vendetta made sense—Veta had worked for the Emperor for a long time, and her job was gathering information on many of the Terran Senators who caused an issue with the Emperor.
It wouldn’t be the first time she’d been targeted.
But why go after the whole ship? The entire landing party?
That’s what didn’t make sense.
Chirping in the distance drew her attention, and a bright-colored bird with red and pink feathers tipped its green beak back and sang out deep cries into the darkening sky.
Huge, bright green things, flowers, and the ambient chime of the wildlife gave the place a beauty she’d not seen in, well, an awfully long time. Soft chirps of birds, clicks, and ticks of animals communicating punctuated the sounds, with water in the distance, and mild winds that made the tall trees sway.
She couldn’t help taking in the rugged beauty of the world. “Where are we?”
“On Sol-4. The mostly jungle moon, and where it is not filled with vegetation, it is difficult mountains.”
“Are there any settlements?”
“Yes. We are heading toward them. It may take a while to get there.” He glanced back over his shoulder at her. “Longer, with your gait.”
She glared at him. “You’re not carrying me.”
“It would be faster.”
She shook her head. “It is inappropriate.”
“Do Terrans not carry their women?”
“No. We, women, like to take care of ourselves.”
They continued in silence, and she found herself staring at him more than the plants. His silver suit was better to see from the back, anyway. While it was just as tight as had seemed from the front, she would much rather glance at his ass than his package.
But besides ogling his butt, she couldn’t help noticing the circles on his back. Each one, the size of a large coin, stuck out through the suit. One on his lower back, another on his upper back, and matching ones on each shoulder. And they all had lines leading away, that curved around his muscles.
The cyborg parts, she assumed. Terran scientists had done autopsies on some Rhimodians before when the war first started. Looking for weaknesses, Veta guessed. What they found was precious little.
While they all had cybernetic pieces, it wasn’t like, well, an arm here, or a few ribs there. The cybernetics were laced throughout the body, in such a way that they could not be extracted. Tiny, microscopic pieces that built on themselves in the system, and after death seemed to deactivate. No way that the Terrans found to reignite them, either. Once the Rhimodian was dead, so were his cybernetics.
But what she didn’t know was if he was able to lie.
After what happened in space, she knew this was no longer just a mission of peace. Deals were on the table, and Veta needed to know who was on which side. Already, she knew some of the Empire’s soldiers were on the side against peace. But who was calling the shots?
If the Terrans had been bribed, then who paid them? Were the Rhimodians in on the deception? Or were they in charge?
First and foremost, she needed to befriend this Rhimodian, at least until she could get to a communications array and reach out. Because the handheld one she’d snagged wasn’t going to work without some serious work.
