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“Sarge.”
Osmin Sberna’s eyes fluttered open, and for a moment, he wished they hadn’t. He was on his back, facing the bright main gallery lights whose glare pierced his ringing skull like the hottest daggers of hell.
Then Lance Corporal Torres’ concerned expression swam into focus.
“Wh-what?”
“Are you okay, Sarge?”
“C-concussed?” His voice came out as a croak.
“Probably. Seeing the dents in your armor, those rocks came flying out real hard.” Torres shook his head. “Can you imagine if we were still in there, standing around like idiots? The regiment would be holding a half dozen military funerals in two weeks — if they dug our bodies out.”
“The others?”
“Salford and Leroy are still out of it. Same deal — dented suits, but no breach of integrity. The rest of us got a bit of by-blow, but not like you three.” When Sberna made to sit up, Torres held him back. “No go, Sarge. Your suit’s medical scanner says you’re okay, but we don’t want to take chances. It can’t detect everything. Stay still while we wait for the rescue team. Zero says you, Salford, and Leroy are headed straight to sickbay in your suits. Martin’s taken over the section for now, so everything is in hand.”
**
“Station operations confirm the rescue team with three stretchers are suited up and preparing to enter the lift,” Sergeant Testo reported in a flat tone. “Tyrell’s chief geologist has also been called out to investigate.”
“Chief Administrator Movane for you, sir,” Sergeant Kuzek, working the command post communications station, said.
“Yes, Chief Administrator?” Delgado put on a neutral expression as he faced the woman on the primary display.
“You’re aware the rescue team is about to head down and fetch your injured?” Her tone and expression matched Delgado’s, something for which he was thankful.
“I am. Thank you for the quick response. Do you need any extra assistance?”
She shook her head.
“No. The last thing we need is more Marines milling around uselessly where they shouldn’t be in the first place. My people are experienced in these matters. Yours, not so much. Now, would you please tell me what happened?”
“Someone tried to murder a half dozen of my troopers with an improvised explosive device hidden under what I assume was a fake rockslide in an abandoned tunnel.”
“You’ll need to lay this out for me, Major.”
“We received an anonymous tip about a stash of illicit substances hidden in that tunnel, and in my role as the station’s provost marshal, I sent a patrol to look at it. When—”
“Without telling Captain Engstrom or me.” She frowned. “Why? Do you not trust us?”
“The sergeant in charge of finding the stash dug it up — a Tyrell Station toolbox seemingly filled with inert material,” Delgado continued, ignoring her questions. “But he’s an experienced noncom who’s dealt with IEDs before, and something told him it might be a trap, even though his sensor detected nothing. He evacuated his squad from the tunnel in question and sent in a remotely controlled droid. When the droid lifted the box, it exploded with enough force to send a cloud of stones into the main gallery at high speed. If my people weren’t wearing armor, the three who took the brunt of it would be dead. As would any miner wearing one of your pressure suits. This was clearly meant to kill. The culprit or culprits simply didn’t count on the finely honed instincts of the noncom in charge. And now you know as much as I do.”
She nodded silently, absorbing his words. “Thank you for your openness. If someone is after you for some reason or other, my people could easily become collateral damage, and they don’t need additional risks when this job already has more than its fair share of them. That being said, please do us a favor and keep your Marines out of the mine shafts. I’m sure Captain Engstrom will speak with you in due course about this incident. Movane out.”
When her image faded away, Delgado, Testo, and Hak looked at each other.
“If she’s behind the IED, she’s a damn talented actress,” Hak finally said in a low voice.
Delgado shrugged.
“At this point, everyone in Tyrell, other than the Erinyes, are suspects. If we didn’t have our hands full before, another investigation would do it.” He paused for a few moments, forehead creased in thought, then said, “And that was probably the point of this incident. In any case, Movane’s request we stay away from the mine shafts notwithstanding, once things settle, I want a team back there to take samples from the blast zone for analysis. If nothing else, determining the nature of the explosive used could be helpful.”
“I don’t think we’ll find the time for that sort of crime scene analysis, Skipper.” Testo looked at his workstation display when it chimed softly for attention. “The regular Assenari ship Thunder Bay just dropped out of FTL at Keros’ hyperlimit twelve hours early. She’ll be in orbit shortly.”
“It never rains, but it pours,” Curtis Delgado gave his first sergeant a bleak smile.
“Not on Keros, cause of the lack of atmosphere, except maybe in the hydroponics modules, but we didn’t sign up to sit around and watch the mold grow on the environmental ductwork anyway, sir. So, the more, the merrier.”
“Yep. Join the Corps, they said. You’ll see the galaxy, they said. What they didn’t say is that you find yourself way up the hind-end of human space chasing druggies while waiting for the good guys to show up and make that bunker full of nasty crap vanish. We might as well have stayed home and kept pounding the 1st MLI with object lessons.” When Hak, Testo, and Kuzek gave him surprised looks, Delgado raised both hands and grinned. “Wouldn’t miss this show for all the gold and platinum in the universe.”
**
As word of an improvised explosive device, one which almost killed a half dozen Marines and left three injured, made the rounds of Tyrell Station, the workers’ anger at Delgado and his troopers quickly evaporated. Sure, they didn’t like being treated as potential suspects, but this incident proved there were clearly rotten apples in their midst.
And if those rotten apples would try murdering those who upheld law and order, what chance did miners in unarmored pressure suits stand if ever they crossed the wrong person? Delgado immediately noticed the change in atmosphere as he, Hak, and Sergeant Kuzek walked through the station to the infirmary to check on the three injured. Workers gave them grave nods in passing rather than icy stares or turned backs, knowing it could have been miners targeted by the IED rather than Marines trained in dealing with such things.
Doctor Blake greeted them with a faint smile of relief when one of his medics fetched him from the examination room.
“Your people are bruised and shaken, but the armor saved them from greater injury. I’d like to keep them under observation for the next twelve hours if you don't mind. Just in case something is developing that the scans can’t pick up yet.”
“Certainly.”
“If you want to take their armor and equipment, feel free, but I don’t know that it can be recycled. We forced some of the joints damaged in the explosion. It must have been one hell of a bomb.”
Delgado shrugged. “We’ll probably never know. Confined spaces such as mine galleries tend to funnel an explosion, so it need not be that big.”
“You’re the expert.”
“Can we see them?”
“Sure.” Blake turned on his heels. “Follow me.”
Delgado glanced at Kuzek, who correctly guessed what his commanding officer wanted.
“I’ll organize a work party to bring their gear back, sir.”
Blake looked over his shoulder, “It’s stowed securely in my office, Sergeant. I’ll show you where.”
He directed them to the recovery room where the three Marines, alert and quietly talking among themselves, occupied diagnostic beds beneath silvery medical blankets. The moment Delgado and Hak entered, they fell silent.
“How are they hanging?”
“Still one lower than the other, sir,” Staff Sergeant Lambrix answered. “A bit shook up, though. Mind you, if Osmin hadn’t listened to his instinct, it would have been much worse.”
“Yeah,” Corporal Taggart added. “But it’s still a shame about Ozzie.”
“Ozzie?” Delgado cocked an eyebrow at the grinning Marine.
Sberna let out a grunt. “That’s what he baptized the droid before sending it in. Called it my replacement.”
“And it was a damn fine thing you pulled out and let Ozzie at it. Any idea what triggered your gut feel?”
“Not a clue, sir. I was kneeling in front of the thing with my sensor when a little voice said, stop. Can’t explain it any better than that.”
“Your little voice earned its danger pay. In any case, well done. Doc wants to keep you overnight, just in case. We’ll take care of your gear, but apparently, the suits are done for.”
“They did their job,” Lambrix replied. “I’d hate to think about the damage if we were wearing those used by the miners. Good thing we brought spares.”
“Anything you need right now — other than a stiff drink, which the doc will surely forbid?”
A chorus of ‘no, sir,’ greeted Delgado’s question, which he expected. If they wanted something, including a quick shot of whiskey, they’d call on their section mates, who were even now being debriefed by Sergeant Testo for the incident report. It would go out to HQ as soon as possible. Someone had upped the ante, and the Admiral needed to know as quickly as possible.