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YOSS DROPPED A PRE-made meal package in front of him. “Ama’s looking for a fight.”
Tyce pushed his computer to one side. “Why?”
“Something about a lack of enlightenment.” He pulled a reinforced crate over to the desk and sat.
Tyce could only imagine what she thought about John’s crew. Now that Tyce was getting reports back from the quick-strike teams, he questioned their enlightenment himself. Either that or they had reached such a profound level that they no longer cared about mundane issues like life and death. That could explain their lack of self-preservation. “Don’t let her kill anyone.”
“That’s why I’m here,” Yoss said as he opened Tyce’s meal and stole a protein chip. “To protect you.”
Tyce slapped Yoss’s hand away from the food. “I... what?”
“You. Ama. Lack of enlightenment,” Yoss said with far too much amusement.
“Yeah, I got that. I’m wondering why. I haven’t done anything lately.”
Yoss shrugged. “She said you’re supposed to be working with your Command buddy, not hiding.”
“I’m reviewing reports.” Tyce let some of his aggravation show. However, Yoss had never been impressed by Tyce’s moods. He grinned wider. Tyce shook his head because there wasn’t anything else he could do. “You’re impossible.”
“Get my report?” Yoss stole another chip, and Tyce pulled the package closer before Yoss ate the whole meal.
“Yes, and you’re an idiot.” Reading about Yoss’s antics gave Tyce heartburn.
“You rode the thing.” Yoss shrugged. Maybe he expected some sort of praise for being insane. Either that or he had missed his chance to die in the war and now he wanted someone to send him to his late wife. That was possible. Ribelians. Psychiatrists could make a fortune if they could figure out how to cure that brand of crazy.
“First, that worked because the Imshee was too surprised to react. Second, I only did it as a last ditch effort to avoid death.”
“I didn’t die.” Yoss gave him a smug smile.
“You could have.” While the Command soldier paired with Yoss had used the most neutral language in the history of report writing, Tyce could still read between the lines. Yoss had only escaped because there was an elevator shaft nearby. He’d thrown himself down it, and the deflated balloon at the bottom had enough air to break the fall. It had been a stupid move, and Yoss was not normally stupid.
“You’re the one that disappointed Ama,” Yoss said. He clearly considered that the larger sin. “So, any new feelings from the ship?”
Tyce chewed on a carb chip from the meal package before answering. “Just a general feeling of creeping anxiety, and that’s all me.”
“Are you sure?” Yoss leaned back and propped a boot on the edge of the desk.
“About the other shoe dropping? Yeah, I’m sure.”
Yoss snorted. “You never feel anxious going into action. You worry about the kids and do dumb shit to protect them, but you get too focused on the mission to think about your safety or mine.” Yoss hesitated before adding, “It’s one of your best qualities.”
Tyce shook his head. “Why is Ama upset about me reading reports?”
“She said John is love broke.” Yoss wiggled his eyebrows and then threw in a truly obscene tongue gesture. “I’ve gotta admit, I can’t come up with another reason for him to throw a fit about you switching sides.”
“Because we were best friends,” Tyce said. Not all deeply felt relationships were sexual. Then again, when Ama talked about love sick, she probably didn’t mean to imply sex. The crude gestures were all Yoss.
“I would never shit on my own life for a friend, and it seems like most of those Command soldiers had heard stories about how John had questionable loyalty and was only around so the Commander could pick his brain about your motives and tactics.”
If Yoss kept poking Tyce’s guilt, Tyce would end up in therapy. He’d never asked John to damage his own life that way. “His choice,” Tyce said sharply. For most Ribelians, that would have ended the argument. People had every right to choose, even when the choice appeared wildly illogical.
Yoss ran his tongue along the inside of his lower lip. “Sure,” he said. When Tyce looked, he added another kind of tongue gesture.
“You are impossible.”
“Yep,” Yoss agreed cheerfully. “So, how bad is this anxiety of yours?”
“How bad is your anxiety?” Tyce countered.
Yoss shrugged. “I figure most of us will die, maybe all of us, but if it can’t be avoided, no need to worry about it.” That was such a Yoss thing to say that Tyce shouldn’t have been surprised, but he was. It didn’t matter how long he lived with Ribelians, there would always be a layer of pessimistic nihilism that he could not emotionally comprehend.
“You thought we would die trying to board the ship, and here we are.”
“Does that mean you’ve come up with a stupid plan?”
“Stupid implies they don’t work. They usually do.”
That made Yoss hesitate. He frowned and leaned forward. “That’s what’s stupid. You don’t act like any Command officer I’ve ever gone up against, and every plan seems like it shouldn’t work, but then...” he shrugged. “So, have you come up with a plan yet?”
Tyce poked his computer angrily. “No. It would help if we had a ship so we could launch an attack or a distraction, or even make a run for it, but I don’t know enough about these Imshee to figure out how to beat them in ship-side fighting.” At best they were annoying the aliens, and Tyce had a small hope that annoyed Imshee might decide to go somewhere else, but they seemed to want the ship. While Tyce was distracted with his work, Yoss tried to steal a carb chip, the only part of the ready meal that was edible. Tyce slapped his hand away, but Yoss got a devilish expression and tried again. Tyce defended his meal with one arm and tried to slap Yoss with the other.
The bark of Command guns interrupted their fight. Yoss looked at Tyce for a fraction of a second, and then took off at a dead run. Tyce grabbed his weapon off the desk and ran after him. He silently cursed the incompetence of the Command soldiers. No one had called in a single warning or reported the direction of the attack. Or if they had, they’d used a private channel, leaving the Dragon crew out.
In the hallway, Soldiers spilled out of rooms on either side and milled in confusion. Weapons’ fire came from the left, and Yoss shouldered people aside as he waded through the crowd, his weapon held up. Tyce followed in the gap left by his wake. Some of the soldiers hadn’t even grabbed their weapons, but more experienced crew, including those from the Dragon, were guiding those back into rooms. They were so incredibly screwed.
Tyce spotted John near the engineering room. “What’s going on?”
John glanced back into the engineering room, but apparently no one in there had information. John shrugged and said, “I have no idea.”
“None of your guys called it in?”
“If our people didn’t report trouble to everyone, Ama would have their hides.”
Since John didn’t have information, Tyce hurried after Yoss. He flipped his radio on. “Ama, where are you?” There was no answer, but then Tyce hadn’t expected one. She never trusted radios, and that position had some merit since Command regularly deployed signal grabbers. If the Imshee were smart, they’d do the same.
As they got closer to the fight, the quality of soldier appeared to improve. These guys had weapons at the ready and they had the heavier ordnance. However, they clustered too close together to effectively counter an energy pulse weapon and several kept the breast clip on their gun. That would keep them from dropping it, but if they fell, it increased the likelihood of random fire taking out their own. These were not people who had ever fought ship to ship. The Dragon staff fared better. They were all positioned near doorways and several waved off other soldiers who wanted to stand too close.
Even young Ralie, who was prone to panic in high-stress situations was on one knee, his weapon pointed in the general direction of the fight. Tyce touched his shoulder on the way past.
An explosion blasted the air and made the floor vibrate. Someone had blown the perimeter.
Tyce broke into a run, shoving soldiers aside when they stood dumbfounded in the middle of the corridor. “Make a hole!” John yelled. Surprisingly, the undisciplined and scared soldiers immediately moved to the walls. If an Imshee came through, they were going to be cannon fodder, and Tyce was a horrible human being because he hoped that made it possible for more Dragon crew to survive.
They passed the engineering room, and several Command crew were in defensive position, along with Phemos and Barr from the Dragon. Half the damn bridge crew was up here, which made Tyce wonder who had stayed with the shuttles. Tuch liked to complain about how others led, but he was allergic to making leadership decisions on his own.
John stopped near a young woman who was holding an assault weapon down at her side. “Give me your weapon.”
She stared at him, wide-eyed and trembling. He reached out and gently took it from her before handing her his own, much smaller, weapon. “That handgun isn’t appropriate for a frontline assault. Head back to engineering and protect the engineers.”
“Yes, sir.” She fled.
“They gave you babies,” Tyce said softly, but that wasn’t entirely accurate. Children on the Dragon knew how to handle a weapon better than some of John’s soldiers.
John nodded wearily. “I know.”
Most of the soldiers in this part of the hall looked competent, at least, and several Dragon crew members held positions alongside John’s people. John pushed through slowly. They were getting close to the action now and the whine of alien weaponry and the competing sounds of Command and Ribelian weapons made an uneasy cacophony.
Tyce spotted Mond. “Who’s guarding our rear?”
“Ama took a group that way. She suspected this might be a distraction.” She might talk about him having superior tactics, but ninety-eight percent of the time, she was equally good.
John stepped forward, and a Command soldier put a hand out. “Sirs, it’s too dangerous.” He gave first John and then Tyce a sharp look.
“We need to see what’s going on,” Tyce said firmly. He couldn’t devise any reasonable strategy if he didn’t have information on the enemy.
The soldier didn’t budge, even when another round of gunfire echoed down the corridor. Someone needed backup, but the design of these damn curved corridors made it impossible to see who was winning. “I’ll see if anyone has a camera or we’ll get a camera up there. Head back to engineering.”
“I’ll be fine,” Tyce said. Command rules precluded a ranking officer from entering direct combat, but he wasn’t Command and he wasn’t the ranking officer. He went to push past the soldier.
The man stepped right into Tyce’s path. “Sir, you are absolutely not going any farther. I don’t have time to defend this position and argue with you, so I suggest you take yourself back to engineering. I will get you a camera view.”
Mond added, “I’m with McLeod. You need to go figure out how to kill these bastards, and you can’t do that with your brains splattered against the wall.
“Tyce,” John said quietly, “They’re right.” A new burst of gunfire cracked through the air, much closer this time. “Get us the camera view as soon as possible.” John pulled on Tyce’s arm.
“I’m not Command. I don’t have to follow stupid rules,” Tyce said, but he knew he’d already lost. John pulled on him again. He hated leaving his people, but his aim wasn’t so good that he was vital on the fighting line, and without information, he couldn’t give any advice. Even though he felt like a coward for doing it, he turned and ran for engineering. The sooner he got to a secured receiver and reviewed the video footage, the greater the likelihood of killing these bastards.