He worked his way over the rubble to the dump pile. The bin’s poor wheels would never be the same. “Copy.” Hope that he’d be seeing Taz and his team again before the day was done made it easier to breathe.
“Bad news. The building is cracked all over. Whoever manufactured the denscrete did a shit job, and it aged badly. Fucking settlement company.”
Upending the bin made dust rise to temporarily envelope him. “Not surprised.”
“Really bad news. Bhayrip and the whole unit are back.”
Rylando froze in surprise. “Why? What happened?”
“Bhayrip has been trying to reach Silver Team for the last hour, but he couldn’t get through until the town got the uplink hub working again. We are ordered to get our asses off the planet immediately and report to the space station right now, even if we have to leave equipment behind. He stonewalled any questions, so I asked my Jumper buddy T’lem. The CPS is recalling all GSAR units across the galaxy. Officially, it’s a reorganization. Bhayrip probably wants you up there because the unit has two days to be in transit to the military base on Lan Dalishi for reassignment.”
It took him two tries to pick up the bin’s handle. He’d been expecting something like that for a multitude of ten-days, but the reality was still a shock. “What about you?”
“Separate, sealed orders. Not reading them until I’m sure you and Taz are safe. Speaking of which, I’m going to chat with the ERC, seeing as how his regular job is the regional law enforcement chief. Back online in five.”
“Daylight!” shouted Stramlo.
Rylando pulled the empty bin carefully back to the dig. Worrying about impending disasters would have to wait. First, he had to deal with the one in progress.
Time to put on his rescuer hat and get everyone out safely.
The emergency lights in the Recycling Overflow room illuminated what looked like a landfill moon’s worth of broken and discarded tech, all covered with thick layers of undisturbed dust. In any other circumstance, she’d be tagging the veritable gold mine of contents for emergency evacuation to her repair lab.
“Stay put while I check.” Taz carefully pushed aside a stack of overflowing bins as she ran scans and tried comms again.
Rylando’s tone sounded. “This is a prerecorded ping. Get a sitrep from Hatya. Use the band and access codes I’m about to give you. They’re for Shen’s controller. She can help you.”
Tears of relief threatened when she heard his voice, crushing all the dire images her vivid imagination had been plaguing her with. Then his words sank in as she listened to the long strings of numbers and symbols.
“Taz,” asked Jhidelle, “want me to find out what Tzima is hearing? She’s a lot closer now.”
“Yes, please.” Taz pinged Hatya.
“Taz, welcome back. You and the doggos safe?” Hatya’s obvious concern renewed the threat of tears. Damnit, she didn’t have time for wellsprings of emotion.
The scans came back with mixed results. “Yes and no.” She sent them to Hatya, then decided to send every scan she’d taken that day for good measure. “We’re in a stable area, but the rest of the building looks like it’s a mess.”
“Copy that. I’m sending you a map of the safest route out. But you need to know some things first.”
“Taz? Tzima hears digging and muffled voices in front of the airsled.” Jhidelle stepped into the room and promptly sneezed.
“Thank you, Jhidelle. I’m getting comms again. We’re getting out now. Cover your mouth and nose with the hem of your tunic and follow me.” Taz knew the words sounded abrupt, but she was juggling too many priorities at once.
Once she sent codes to open the far door, Taz pushed aside equipment to clear their path. “Okay, Hatya, what do I need to know?”
After listening to the bad news and orders from Bhayrip, she thanked Hatya, then described her plan to get Jhidelle to safety. She couldn’t involve Hatya in phase two of her plan, where she went back for Rylando instead of obeying the immediate recall order.
“I sent you a route to the lift lobby.” Hatya knew her too well. “See you there.”
Taz turned to Jhidelle. “How about I carry you and we see how fast my suit can run?”
Captain Hatya Wa’ara was not a happy Jumper. Life was an adventure, but hers had taken a sharp vector change into the bullshit world of secrets and twisty politics.
Circling west of the ruined Citizen Activity Center, she looked for a good place to land the shuttle. Few buildings had survived the raw power of tectonic-plate upheaval, but a cluster of tall trees stood huddled together like a herd of green sheep. That would do.
She wished she hadn’t read the separate orders she and the other military pilots had received. She especially wished she hadn’t opened the Jumper-eyes-only orders.
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. The CPS outright threatened to charge pilots with dereliction if they left even one GSAR staffer behind.
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 shot first.
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 employees even less notice so they wouldn’t have time to disappear.
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 operation 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 saw her would decommission her on the spot.
Up 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.
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 good, she had one last 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. But first, he had to survive 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.