Page 26 of Galactic Search and Rescue
She wished she hadn’t read the separate orders she and the regular military pilots had received. She especially wished she hadn’t opened the orders for Jumper eyes only.
Regular pilots were instructed to get all GSAR personnel to the designated military base, even if it took commandeering a commercial freighter and to do so. The orders said to take all the equipment they could ship and leave the rest for the next squad. Space Div and the CPS outright threatened to charge the regular pilots with dereliction if they left even one GSAR staffer behind.
The top-secret orders from CPS Jumper Command, however, took the prize. After everyone left, Jumpers were to disable or destroy the GSAR equipment and resources, then hunt down and forcibly detain any GSAR staffers who evaded the recall order. Lethal force was authorized if the staffer resisted.
If nothing else, the orders confirmed that the rumors were all too true about how the recent base shutdowns had caused Minder Corps staff to go absent in droves. And apparently, the lesson the CPS’s dung-eating dunderhead leaders took from that debacle was to give GSAR employees even less notice so they wouldn’t have time to disappear. Fark!
The grove of trees was a tight fit, but the shuttle would be safer under trees that had survived instead of out in the open.
This would be her last mission on active duty. She’d pulled every dodge and twist to hide the fact that the fucking incurable waster’s disease had caught up with her early. Active Jumpers were supposed to be immune, but not her. The very next Jumper medic who examined her would decommission her on the spot.
Until an hour ago, she hadn’t been ready to leave the Corps she loved. But she hadn’t ever signed up to be a corporate fixer or a farking bounty hunter. She growled low in her throat. CPS High Command could suck flux. Jumper Command, too.
Ignoring the constant pain in her hip as beneath a Jumper’s notice, she strapped herself into the ship-loader assist frame and picked up the bag of goodies she’d gathered. Before she fell out of line for the last time, she had one final mission.
Jumpers never left teammates behind.
* * *
Rylando shoveled with renewed effort, working off his feelings and glad the mask made it harder for the others to read his expression. Hatya’s brief message said Taz was alive and well, and they’d both see him soon.
He was late in telling Taz so many things he should have, and now the reorganization threw any future into a chaotic maelstrom. If he survived Po’s plans.
Thanks to his recovered talent and Mariposa’s superior owl senses, he hadn’t needed to be anywhere near to overhear Po’s quiet orders. The moment the opening was wide enough, Pelvannor was supposed to shoot Rylando to disable him, grab Stramlo, and follow Po out to finish the job—whatever that was.
From Hatya’s annoyingly breezy comment, he’d bet it had something to do with the basement data center filled with explosives that Taz had “taken care of.”
“Hello.” The rich alto voice he’d know anywhere sounded muffled but close. “Subcaptain Correa from Galactic Search and Rescue. Do you need assistance?”
Po stood up. His startled expression morphed into craftiness.
Pointing the stunner at Rylando, he pointed toward the almost-excavated exit. “Tell her ‘yes,’ and to hurry, because Stramlo is bleeding.”
Rylando lifted his mask up long enough to shout, “Good to hear you again, Subcaptain. Yes, we need assistance. Three plus me. One is bleeding.”
“Copy.” Her tone was the model of professionalism. “In that case, I’ll clear the exit fast. Please step as far away as you can.”
Po frowned and motioned them all back.
Rylando moved with alacrity. He knew what Taz’s suit could do when she was motivated.
Stramlo crossed toward the airsled, but Pelvannor herded him toward Po instead.
Rylando edged farther back and left. Reaching out with his talent, he discovered his whole team was just on the other side. He sent them a warm greeting, then subvocalized a warning to Taz. “Po has a stunner. Pelvannor has the beamer.”
“Copy. Bang-flash in three.”
Even though he expected it, the bright explosive boom made his shoulders hunch. Stramlo crouched and covered his head. Po stumbled back and would have fallen over the block he’d been sitting on if Pelvannor hadn’t grabbed his arm and pulled him upright.
A blinding searchlight strobed through the now-wide gap, highlighting the new swirls of dust.
Stramlo launched himself toward the airsled and grabbed his messenger bag to sling across his shoulder.
Po snarled curses in Mandarin and pointed the stunner at Stramlo. “Set them now.”
Stramlo shook his head. “We’re too close.”
“We’ll be free in minutes. Pelvannor, motivate him.” The beam from Pelvannor’s weapon was close enough to char Stramlo’s pant leg. “The next one makes your kid an orphan.”
