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Authors: Greta van Der Rol

Tags: #Romance, #Science Fiction, #Fiction, #General

Morgan's Choice (35 page)

BOOK: Morgan's Choice
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Soldier shorthand to alert the camp.

“Follow me,” he said. “Jenna, you come
behind.”

Ravindra pushed Morgan ahead of him. She
stumbled a little, tired and wet but she kept her shoulders back.
Together they followed the trooper into the twilight under the
trees, ducking past vines and pushing around the bushes.

The man in the lead stopped, head tilted,
listening. The alien buzz of a distant machine cut through the
silence of the forest. “One copter, headed over the river. Maybe
they found what they were searching for.”

“They’ve been searching for days,” Jenna
said.

If they’d found the copter, so much the
better. The wreck should keep them busy, at least for a time.

They carried on between the trees. The
occasional ray of sunlight lanced through the high, dense canopy to
spotlight whatever lay below, if anything emphasizing the dimness
all around. Morgan’s shoulders began to droop.

“Not so fast, trooper. She can’t keep up.” He
stopped and offered her the last of the water, which she gulped
gratefully. Not that he’d admit it, but he was beginning to feel
weary himself.

The big man waited, head turned, until she’d
finished and handed back the bottle.

“I’ll be fine,” Morgan said with the ghost of
a smile.

“Not much further,” said Jenna.

He hoped so. He would have carried her but he
was sure she wouldn’t have let him.

The leading trooper whistled and men emerged
from the background. Ravindra grinned, approving. Camouflage suits
did a remarkable job, especially combined with excellent
positioning and use of the natural resources. Ten troopers
altogether, all armed. A gesture from one of them and the helmets
withdrew.


Chief.

The
two escorts gave a respectful neck bow to a man with shrewd, bright
green eyes. “He claims to be Admiral Ravindra and she’s the Orionar
Queen.”

He and Morgan became the center of
attention amid snorts and chuckles.

“Let’s see your skin,” said one man, reaching
out to tear at Morgan’s shirt. The fastenings popped, exposing the
golden skin between her breasts. She glared at him, chin lifted in
defiance.

“That will be enough,” Ravindra snapped, rage
surging from his gut.

The Chief
’s
head turned slowly. “You think you can give orders
here?”

A trooper raised a tentative hand. “Ah… he
sure looks like Admiral Ravindra, Chief. I was on
Vidhvansaka
last tour. Just… the scar and
no
coti
.”


I was captured during the assault on the
palace at Krystor Central. A man called Asbarthi cut my face and
cut off my
coti
. He would
have tortured me to death if my lady here had not rescued
me.”

“And what would the Orionar Queen be doing
out here?” the Chief said, looking her up and down.

Morgan bristled. She stood hands on hips
staring up at the towering trooper. “You’re not listening, are you?
I rescued Admiral Ravindra from a murdering bastard who has no
intention of delivering to the people of Krystor what he offered
them through me. I was misled, I admit it and if you believe that
this revolution is a good thing for this planet, better think
again.”

The Chief blinked. Ravindra suppressed a
grin. She was magnificent.


You think what we think, then. But…” He
looked at the trooper who had been on
Vidhvansaka.
“Are you sure he’s the Admiral?”

“What proof do you need, apart from your
colleague’s word?” Ravindra said.

“Well, now. The word amongst the troopers is
that Admiral Ravindra has a tattoo,” the Chief said.

Ravindra took off his jacket. Morgan grinned,
eyes twinkling.

The Chief saluted and bowed. “Forgive me,
Admiral. These are troubled times.”

“You are forgiven.” He waved Morgan to
him.

The man’s eyes flicked back and forth
between Ravindra and Morgan. “With respect,
Srimana
, I don’t understand. We saw pictures of the
Orionar King in the capital but they said he’s dead. What is his
wife doing here?”

Morgan jerked, nostrils flared. “I am NOT his
wife. I do NOT approve of any of this rubbish and I am NOT a
Queen.” She glared at the under officer, who quailed under her
stare.

“Enough, Morgan.” She’d certainly made an
impression. Mirka to a tee. From what he knew of her, she wouldn’t
like that; but he did.

She looked away, still frowning.

Someone had thrown a camouflage rug over a
fallen tree. Ravindra strode between respectful troopers and sat.
“You are from Zaffra Bay?”

“We are. My name is Abu Prakesh and this is
my platoon.” The Chief stopped and licked his lips. “We follow
orders but sometimes…” He stared at the ground for a moment. “They
killed Admiral Gamesh and his senior officers, and their wives and…
and children. We came back from an exercise, and there they were,
lined up on the edge of a pit just outside the base. They mowed
them down with blastechs, all of them. Then they covered the pit
with a grader.”

He huffed out a breath. “That’s wrong. A
man was there, a Vesha
Hai Sur
by the look, with Commander Iniman. Except Iniman wore
admiral stars. What does he know about troops and tactics? We
couldn’t find our own commander and then somebody said they had a
bunch of officers locked in the cells. About then we decided to go
out again. We’re overdue two days now.”

“I don’t know Iniman. What is his specialty?”
Ravindra said.


Logistics,
Srimana
.”

A Vesha.
“So. A reward for the faithful.” He could imagine
the scenario well enough. A traitor on the inside, able to give
information about movements at the base. It sounded, too, as if
they had rounded up the Mirka officers so leadership in battle
would be compromised, at least. So much the better for getting into
the base. “Iniman will get his just desserts. I need to get into
Zaffra Bay. Can you help me?”

Prakesh’s eyes lit up. “We’ll help in any
way we can,
Srimana
. Do we
retake the base?”

I wish
. “Not now. I need to commandeer a ship and return
to the fleet. Then I will be able to come back with an attack
force.” If he could persuade the High Command that Asbarthi posed a
threat beyond this planet. Maybe Morgan’s word would be
enough.

Prakesh frowned, doubtful. “We don’t have
a pilot,
Srimana
.”

“I’m a pilot,” Morgan said. She’d come over
to sit on the log beside him, but not too close.

“Do you have a vehicle?” Ravindra said.
“Maps?”

The Chief
nodded. “We have a troop carrier. It’s over here.”
He walked over to a space between the trees and jerked away a
camouflage cover.

Ah. A Halycon, ugly, reliable bastion of the
Fleet troopers, capable of carrying ten troopers and their
equipment. Wonderful.

 

****

 

Red-green carpet extended like the sea
itself, almost featureless. A few broken branches, that was all, to
mark the destruction of a copter. Only when the sensors were set to
detect artificial objects were the pieces of broken fuselage
visible on the ground and suspended in the trees. A few weeks and
the evidence would disappear, swallowed up into the jungle.

“Nobody could have survived that,” Admiral
Iniman said, gazing down from the hovering copter.

Asbarthi, seated beside him, said, “I expect
not.” So annoying. Lakshmi would be disappointed, too. “Have some
of your people go in there and check, if you please.”

“In there? Well, er… yes. Check what?”

“Look for bodies.” Asbarthi suppressed a
sigh. Did he have to tell the idiot everything?

 

****

 

“Before you do anything else, you should have
that cut seen to. It looks horrible and I bet it hurts.” Morgan
treated Ravindra to a frosty stare before she looked away.

His spirits soared. She cared. She cared
enough to have his face fixed. Not much, but a start.

“Quite right.” Prakesh jerked his head at one
trooper, who ran off and returned carrying a medical kit.

She bowed, eyes downcast.

Srimana
, if you
would sit?”

He returned to his perch on the log while the
medic pulled out a bottle of antiseptic. Morgan watched with
interest as the woman soaked a swab and cleaned his face. The
antiseptic stung but he steeled himself, aware of Morgan’s
attention. The trooper spread the sides of the wound with gentle
fingers, emptied a biot phial into his flesh and massaged. Then she
clipped two pieces of transparent adhesive over the cut to keep the
sides in place.


Should heal soon now it’s clean,
Srimana
.” She
bowed.

“Thank you.” The cut felt better already, the
dull septic ache had disappeared. “And now, Chief, let’s plan how
we will get into the base.”

 

****

 

Ravindra shrugged his shoulders in the
camouflage suit. A little too large but much more comfortable than
the too-small clothes he’d worn so far. Cleaner, too, and dry.

Morgan grinned at him, swimming in a far too
large jacket over her own clothes. “I feel like a little girl
playing dress-ups.”

He smiled back. Food and rest had worked
wonders. “Not elegant, but very practical.”

“I know.” She tossed her head. “I feel a bit
mean, though. Especially for Jenna and Nali, having to stay out
here because of us.”

“They are soldiers.” Too soft, the lovely
Morgan; too soft by half.

Prakesh stepped forward. “If you are ready,
Admiral?”

“I am.” He strode over to the Halycon.

The step up was set for troopers. He could
manage but Morgan would need to climb. “Let me help you.”

She shot him a glance and clambered up on her
own into the port seat of the third row. He sat next to her as the
other troopers took their places with practiced ease. The top slid
soundlessly over their heads, while the side sections lifted from
the base.

The Halycon rose, negotiating its way up to
the canopy. Agile, six-legged creatures fled, scolding, as branches
snapped and whirled. The vehicle sped away, over the treetops,
heading for the base. To port the jungle marched away to the
mountains, lapping at their feet. To starboard a calm sea lay
beneath a thick layer of cloud.

Morgan sat with her face on her fist. The
troopers were silent. Ravindra wished he could have planned a
little more precisely but they would simply have to improvise. At
least they should be able to get into the base. From there, he
would have to rely on Morgan.

Prakesh turned around in the seat in front
of him. “Approaching the main gate,
Srimana
.” The sides of the vehicle darkened, hiding the troopers
within from scrutiny.

The Halycon slowed and descended outside the
double row of brightly-lit perimeter fences. The gates were closed
and armed troopers waited on both sides. He looked at Morgan. Her
face was closed but he could feel her nervousness. Truth to tell he
could be calmer himself. He was at home on the bridge of a battle
cruiser.

The Halycon stopped, hovering half a meter
above the ground. The driver leaned out to speak to the guard who
approached.

“Septa platoon, back from patrol.”


Septa?” The guard checked a list on
a
sanvad
attached
to his wrist. “You were due back three days ago. I’ll have to
check.”

“What’s to check?” Prakesh said from behind
the driver. “We had some trouble with the Halycon, trooper. And
we’re tired, hungry and dirty. Can we get on?”


Chief
.
” The
guard made to step back and stopped. “Wait.”

Ravindra’s heart beat faster and his hands
gripped the blastech a little more tightly. He hadn’t expected to
have to fight his way into the base but if he had to, he would.
“Amber,” he muttered to Prakesh. Be ready to fight.

Prakesh pressed a button on his suit,
sending the signal to the soldiers. They shifted, hands gripping
their weapons. If he ordered red, the Halycon would batten down to
battle mode, deploy its heavy gun and barge its way into the
base.

The seconds ticked by. He forced himself to
relax, hiding the fluttering nerves with practiced ease. What was
the problem? Why were they being held? His fingers flexed on the
blastech’s butt.

The gates began to move but still the guard
kept them. Prakesh began to fidget.

A wheeled heavy hauler swept by.

The guard waved the Halycon on.

Morgan wasn’t the only one who sighed with
relief. The Halycon slipped along a tree-lined roadway toward the
base’s landing pads. A shiny civilian Starliner stood on the far
side, atmosphere and shift-space capable, but unarmed. All the
military ships must be in the hangars. Over confident. That was
good.

The troop carrier turned a corner past the
administration block and headed up between the neat lines of
barracks.

“All out,” Prakesh said.

The sides dropped and the top retracted. The
troopers jumped down and went around to Prakesh’s side to form up.
Ravindra eased himself down to the end of the line, ready to sidle
out.

“Drop your weapons, all of you, you’re under
arrest.”

An armed squad approached at a jog.

BOOK: Morgan's Choice
12.86Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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