Dry, No Lube Ch. 06: Skulduggery

"Yeah. That'll buy us time to move before their snoopers can track us." Vanzetartt leaned her head back against the rocks. "Mission accomplished. Almost."

"Almost?" Juno slipped her eyes sideways and found herself staring into the muzzle of Nerkins' big gun, now pointed squarely at her face. "What the fuck?"

"Sorry, sailor. Orders from the colonel." The warrant officer remained pale, her voice feeble, but her hand remained steady on the gun. "No loose ends. The more people who know about this shit, the worse."

"I fucking killed the target," Juno frowned, her brain furrowing with rage. "Jesus H Buddha, I saved your fucking life..."

"Yes. And thank you. You'll get, like, a super-high award for all that." Vanzetartt smiled grimly. "Posthumously. Sorry, kid. There's not much I can do."

Juno knew she should feel fear, here on a distant asteroid, surrounded by enemies, betrayed by allies, and needing to pee. Instead, all she felt was a horrid sense of indignation. Even after all this time in Fleet, she was flat-out frustrated by the unfairness of it all. The muzzle of the pistol looked huge. "What super-high award?" she asked, dry-throated. Everything around her seemed to have gone still.

The warrant officer cocked her head. "Why do you ask?" Her finger tightened on the trigger, and Juno knew that if she was going to do anything about this, there was no more time to think: it had to be now. Vanzetartt's instincts were too good to keep from shooting her for long.

Juno summoned whatever strength she had left, knowing her opponent had been almost dead a few minutes ago, and still would be but for the little blinking whir coming from the Portable Surgeon. She feinted away from the gun, knowing Vanzetartt would expect that, knowing she'd shoot at once, so she sprang upward instead, muscles protesting.

She wasn't thinking clearly, instinct making her foot lash out at Vanzetartt's chest, smacking the side of the Portable Surgeon as the gun tracked her, its first shot sizzling through her loose Army pants. But then Vanzetartt was screeching, a truly hideous and breathless shriek of pain and despair, and Juno was falling off-balance to the slippery rocks. She stumbled to a crouch, her eyes tearing toward the warrant officer even as a searing pain sizzled through her thigh.

Juno saw blood, blood everywhere. The little Surgeon had an auto-infuser that churned out new blood cells, pushing them into the delicate links its sensors had made to the patient's vessels, and Juno's kick had severed all those links. Vanzetartt's blood gouted out in a vast, spreading sheet, the Portable on full blast, her skin turning paler by the moment as she shivered.

"Shit." The little steward dragged herself to her feet and looked down at the dying assassin. "You said I wasn't much of a killer. Guess you didn't know what the fuck you were talking about." She crouched again, her holed trousers shoved down, and let out a long, orgasmic piss into the bloody marsh water. She glanced at the furrow Vanzetartt's last shot had made in her leg, and once she'd finished with her business she picked up the Portable Surgeon, tripped the auto-shutoff, flushed it, then smacked it over her own wound. The device was still warm from Vanzetartt's body, but Juno ignored that as she watched the assassin twitch out the last of her life, no longer breathing.

Fuck.

Everything was supposed to have calmed right down, dammit: the target was gone, the mission was done, but now everything was complicated. Juno raised her eyes to where Desperado drifted above, looking almost close enough to touch: she felt like she could leap up and just hop aboard, but the frigate might as well have been in another galaxy. There was no way Corcovado would take her back, of course. He'd probably kill her, him and Rennels, and it would happen soon before the colonel took Rollstenfenger's ear from Vanzetartt's corpse and headed back toward civilization, with no one the wiser.

Even Pixy wouldn't know.

She dragged weary eyes toward the horizon, where a low fast blur told her of the approach of the diplo ship. It ought to be carrying two Army officers with three cocks between them, both men bent on killing her and making an escape. Wearily, she stooped and picked up the abandoned pistol. She knew, now, why the Army hadn't trained her to use it. Now she had little time to learn. She rummaged at the twitching Vanzetartt's belt, knowing now why the warrant officer had demanded the field-marshal's ear.

* * *

Part V: Jeyne

* * *

"Can you see what's happening?"

"Nope." Technically, Plovsek was a sergeant, and very subordinate to Desperado's acting second officer. But here, crouched behind the slimy rocks on an asteroid full of oddly-colored atmosphere and vague threat, the platoon sergeant was in charge. And they both knew it. The Marine adjusted her viewer. "Definite movement, though."

Jeyne frowned, unsure what he should be doing. "That... that other woman. Still dead?"

The Marine swung her viewer back to Vanzetartt's body, grimacing at the sight of all the blood. "Probably. If she's not been haemo'd by now, I doubt there's much of a chance." She hesitated, glancing at the junked hotel, the little teams of Army troops in the distance, swarming over the wreckage. "What happened here, sir? And why isn't that diplo ship taking off? And why aren't we taking off?" Her Marine squad lay on the stones, fanned out behind them, pulling security. "I'm starting to feel like I'm being hung out to dry here." Her tone was that dry accusation Marines often used with Fleet.

"We take off when Juno's done." Jeyne swallowed. "Those are the orders, Sergeant."

"Ah." Plovsek frowned over for a long second. "Uh huh. So the skipper doesn't trust the Army and wants us to make sure she doesn't die." She sniffed, considering. "Well, with what we just saw there with that dead Army bitch? Looks like Commander Pfeiffer was probably right to be worried. I'm sure she's burning up the mid-beam to the shuttle right now..."

"We should move." Jeyne licked his lips. He didn't want to think about how he'd been out of comms with the ship. He'd told the Marines they'd only be moving a few klicks from the shuttle, but they were six kilometers away from their landing zone and now he thought they should go further. "I don't like being this far away from her."

"Relax, sir." Plovsek glanced over her shoulder. "Gomezowicz? Still on target?"

"Still on target, sergeant." Jeyne looked down at where the Marine waited coolly with his rifle, focusing through his scope. "I could shoot Juno anytime."

"Meaning," Plovsek put in, for Lieutenant Jeyne's benefit, "he can shoot anyone near Petty Officer Juno, too." She adjusted her viewer again. "On your orders, sir," she added solicitously.

"Yeah." Jeyne swallowed. "I really want to get closer. With Kimmage. In case she needs medevac."

"She's just taken care of her own leg," Plovsek reasoned. "Let it play out, sir."

"Well. I think their diplomatic ship is going to be in sight at any time." Jeyne was shocked he couldn't already see it. "When we spot where it's going to land, it's imperative that Gomezowicz be able to shoot at it."

"No," the sergeant muttered firmly, "it's imperative that all of us be able to shoot at it." She gave him an appraising glance. "Your instincts are on target, sir, but with respect? I know what I'm doing here. I'm fucking this chicken. I just need you to hold the head." She went back to her viewer. "And figure out how to get the shuttle closer. I don't fancy running six klicks back for our exfil, even with gravity this low."

"Already arranged." They'd left a Marine back there on guard, uselessly. "I can remote-pilot it from here, as long as the maneuvers stay simple..."

"She's moving." Plovsek's clipped tone shut him up. She studied her viewer. "Heading for that hill? I think?" She swung her view that way, then paused a moment. "Yes. There's something coming, low over the horizon."

"Shit."

"Relax, sir." She focused the viewer. "She took the pistol. She's barely even limping. I think she's got this figured out."

"I don't know if I can cover that little hill, sergeant." Gomezowicz had been listening. "Not from down here."

"Okay. Then we do need to displace." She nodded and turned to her commo tech. "You take the viewer, Muckins. The rest of you assholes, get ready to head out." Jeyne felt the stir around him, the Marines being quiet, their competence reassuring. "Take point, Sergeant Jyzzryk. Make sure you find some defilade. We're moving just as soon as we're sure that's the diplo ship." She shot Muckins a meaningful look. "Meaning, keep your eyes fucking peeled."

An awkward few seconds passed. Jeyne squinted, wishing he'd brought his own viewer, watching as the distant Juno pulled herself tiredly over the difficult terrain. Behind her, the smoke from the shattered hotel spread into a shell over the thin atmosphere. "Got it, sergeant." Muckins cleared his throat. "It's the diplo. Heading straight toward the XO's steward."

"Move out, Sergeant Jyzzryk." Plovsek rubbed at her cloned leg. "Let's do this shit."

* * *

Part VI: Juno

* * *

The blue dart of a ship flared and landed at the backside of the little hill where Juno crouched. It slipped into the boggy ground down there like a needle passing into a vein, its skin shining weirdly in the smoked light. The top hatch was already swinging open as it settled into the marsh, and she caught the flash of Colonel Rennels' teeth as he grinned up at her. "Jesus Buddha, Petty Officer! Don't you know not to silhouette yourself on hilltops? Come on down here."

"I'm fine up here, sir." She'd unhooked the Portable Surgeon halfway up the hill, once its systems had told her her thigh was all fixed up. It still ached, though. She cleared her dry throat. "Do me a favor and call Commander Pfeiffer? I was hoping she could send me a ride."

"What the fuck are you talking about, Wrae?" His voice was carefully modulated. He stretched a bit further out of the hatch, squinting up at her. "The others are dead. We're compromised. We need to get the fuck out of here, sailor. Now."

"No, sir."

He nodded up at her, suddenly quiet, but he didn't duck back inside. She angled Nerkins' pistol from her waist, fairly sure he knew she had it and absolutely sure she couldn't hit him from here anyway. Still, she went ahead and pulled the trigger, feeling the zing of the little gun as it jumped in her hand, exhilarated when she heard the round bounce off the diplo's blue skin.

She'd expected to miss by a lot more.

"Ah." The colonel nodded now. "That's how this is, hmm?" He sighed. "Nerkins told you why she was killing you."

"No sir. Vanzetartt did." Juno brushed her hair from her eyes with trembling fingers. She'd never felt so tired. "Nerkins didn't get the chance. She died pretty easily, to tell you the truth."

"Well. Not everyone can be as resourceful as you are, Wrae." He nodded in admiration. "Come on down. Now that we both know the score, we can talk more openly. But Rollstenfenger's people are going to be tracking us already."

"Just call Commander Pfeiffer." Juno had no idea what she was doing now. Her mind contained no plans, no schemes. All she knew was the tearing need to get back to that ship up there. "If they catch me, I'll tell them all about you."

"Yes. That's why I can't let you live," he shrugged. "My hands are tied. They're not going to take you alive, Wrae, you know that." He spread his arms wide. "Come on down. Just talk to me."

"You're not even going to try to help her get a command, are you?" Juno backed off the lip of the hill, to the far side. It hadn't occurred to her that the diplo ship would have guns. She didn't think it did, but she did know Captain Corcovado was... somewhere. And that he most certainly had a gun. Either way, it seemed wiser to put the hill between them. "You were lying to her, as you lied to me."

"I lie a lot," he nodded.

"And you're going to kill me, regardless."

"There's no way out of this for you, Wrae. Except with me."

"Fuck you." She held up Rollstenfenger's ear; only now was it starting to stiffen up. Only an hour ago she'd been waiting in the cafeteria with Nerkins. A whole lifetime had been crammed in between. "You need this? Come get it."

"Nah. I don't need it."

"Liar."

"Take the chance, then. Come on down and hand it to me."

"Fuck." It came out as a whimper to herself. She had no clue what to do. "Where's Corcovado, sir?"

He nodded smugly. "You'd love to know that." Juno licked her lips, eyes darting. Everything around her seemed sunk in grey twilight as the great smoke cloud rose behind her, the land before her formless but for the light leaking from the hatch around Rennels' body.

And the lights above. Desperado. Home.

"Come down, Wrae." He sounded so calm, so safe. "You're valuable to me. We both know that. Come down and let's talk about it." He paused. "Or? I'll lift without you, and use my thrusters to crisp you as I fly away. I'm not waiting."

'Where's Corcovado?"

He shrugged. "Ten seconds, Petty Officer Juno. You're right: I need that ear, but not exclusively. There are other ways to prove death. So. Ten seconds, then I'm lifting." The silence stretched. Juno heard a buzzing in her ears and, just above it, the distant sound of vehicles revving from the ruined building at her rear. "Five."

The burst came blatting out of the twilight over the swamp, a fierce and unexpected burp of gunfire, the rounds passing close enough that Juno heard them snap past. She flinched to the side, gasping frantically, then crumpled to the ground in panic as she heard a soft sigh from three feet away. She turned that way to see Captain Corcovado folding like a marionette, half his guts hanging out and the other half... gone, vaporized, a red mist somewhere behind. His face showed dull curiosity from where he'd been crouching with his knife out, ready to spring on her, but now his expression changed slowly and slackly to a dull, stoned look of utter confusion as he slid down into a pool of his own blood.

"Fuck," he sighed, looking down at himself. His eyes roved around a bit before they found Juno's. "Be nice. Put my brain in a haemodrive. Okay?"

"Nope." Repulsed by the sight of his slippery guts, she took a step to the side and leveled the pistol. "Bye." She squeezed the trigger button before she could have a second thought, and a neat hole appeared in his forehead like a third eye as the rest of his head whipped away, reminding her of Nerkins.

She swirled her head back around to where the colonel had whirled in the hatchway, peering behind him into the grey marshes as a faint shout came from about 200 meters away. "Colonel Smith! This is Sublieutenant Felix Jeyne, from Fleet. We're going to destroy your ship and get you out of here on our shuttle." The voice paused. "Whether you like it or not. Alive or dead, sir, that's your choice."

"Well, fuck me." Juno straightened, glaring into the night, the sirens louder behind her. "I'm here, Mr Jeyne!" she cried.

"We got you." She caught it then, off in the distance: the shuttle, limping slowly under remote control, scorching across the mosses. "Decide, Colonel Smith." Jeyne did not sound friendly.

She sank to the ground again beside her third dead soldier of the last hour, looking again at the Desperado above.

Relief.

* * *

Epilogue

* * *

He was pretty sure Pixy Pfeiffer wasn't going to kill him, but he was less sure about that feral little steward sitting in the corner.

Well, he sighed to himself as he shifted uncomfortably in one of Pfeiffer's office chairs, you fucked this one up royally, Schwick. He hated his first name, but it felt right to torture himself by thinking it. Never had be felt so humiliated. His team obliterated. His plans outfoxed by a bedwarming lieutenant and a bunch of smelly Marines. His mission, completed by an untrained fucking Fleet legal specialist with a kitchen implement.

And now here he was, at the mercy of Fleet's most unpredictable officer. He smiled at Pfeiffer, buying time while the stony-faced Sergeant Plovsek waited just behind his chair. He could feel her hostile glare on the back of his scalp. "I mean, just what is it you plan to do with me, Pixy?"

The commander stirred, her chin low in her hand as she glowered over at him. "I'm not happy with you, sir," she pointed out softly. "You're fresh out of friends. You've gotten me involved in Army politics. You tried to kill my steward, and you lied to me to get me to help you." She paused. "And? Nobody knows you're out here."

He stilled a shudder. He didn't like her tone. "I didn't lie to you, Pixy."

"You had no intention of helping me with a new assignment," she snapped, glancing up at Plovsek. The Marine just stared impassively. "No means, either. I'm sure, on reflection, that you don't know a soul in Fleet Assignments." She tossed her head sideways, short hair bobbing. "I'm tempted to let Petty Officer Juno conduct a more private debriefing. Near an airlock."

He smiled, fakely. "I think you'd regret that, Commander. I've made sure certain things would occur if I were to die unexpectedly, things that would probably poison your career. On the other hand?" He raised his eyebrows. "I'm resourceful. I'll be highly motivated to find a way to help you, if you let me live."

"Fuck off. Juno has already told me you never intended to hold up your end of the bargain."

"No, I didn't," the colonel shrugged, "but the situation is different now. You know things about me, things which could damage me." He allowed himself to laugh. "Not that you can exploit that effectively. I've got many, many friends in Army High Command."

Pfeiffer's gaze was steel. "So did Field-Marshall Rollstenfenger. I'm sure there are people in your hierarchy that would love to know who was responsible for his death."

He was careful not to go pale, or start panting, or anything similarly dramatic. But Pfeiffer's record suggested he was now in danger, grave danger. She was not a woman who shied away from difficult decisions, never had been. "Don't snarfshit a snarfshitter," he said quietly, hoping he projected an air of menace.

"You know I'm not bluffing."

She's got you by the gonads, Schwick. "Well. So what's your suggestion, Commander Pfeiffer?"

Pixy glanced again at Plovsek, nodding, and the Marine silently left the room. Outside, the stars drifted endlessly by, infinite and, to Rennels' Army mind, disorienting. Pfeiffer already had Risuna out there, continuing its survey. "So we can speak frankly," Pixy sighed, leaning back in her chair. Rennels glanced at the silent, ominous little Juno, but said nothing. "The woman you need to speak with is a full Commander named Thajk. First name Cheyra." She spelled the name slowly so that Rennels' implant could record it. "She'll know how to get me a Sword-class P/E command. You just need to convince her, I suspect."

He cocked his head carefully, beginning to see a way out of this. Maybe even a way he could use it to his advantage. "What sort of leverage does she respond to?"

"Rough sex and antique dildoes. But use your imagination, sir; you're very perceptive. No doubt other things will occur to you when you meet with her." She yawned. "Here's the thing, though: no more equivocation. You'd better deliver, sir. Or I'm sure you'll be unhappy, somehow."

"Yes." Rennels hoped his relief did not show. He was at least fairly sure, again, that he wouldn't be killed today, though he only felt that way because he was making a determined effort to avoid looking at Juno's eyes. "I understand, Commander Pfeiffer."