She leaned back in her chair and crossed one leg over the other, feigning a nonchalance she didn’t feel. “Your pep talk sucks.”
His startled look gave way to a sudden laugh. “I guess it does. Sorry.”
She spread her arms expansively, then let them drop. “Here’s how I see it. You’ve been out of the field for a long time now. Tucked away at headquarters, pushing buttons behind the scenes. It’s been too long since you knew how it felt to be the tip of the sword.”
His forehead creased, as if he was unsure what to think.
She continued, “Your chance is coming up. Be the sword. Remember what it feels like to win. And use that to lead us the hell out of this mess.”
His mouth curved into a real smile. “You might be right. I’ll give it my best.”
“Screw that defeatist talk. You’ve forgotten how to ego-trip yourself into a false sense of immortality. A critical skill in this occupation.” Her voice rose as she talked, becoming louder and more forceful.
“Uh, right. So…we’ll win! We’ll kick Colb’s ass, then kick the asses of anyone who thinks they can threaten the PAC.” His back straightened and he made a fist, and Fallon perceived a glimmer of the young officer he had once been.
“That’s right!” she barked. “Those pieces of shit are nothing compared to the PAC. They’ll be sorry they even thought about taking us on.”
Krazinski stood and said in a stage whisper, “I think this is working.” He continued loudly, “We’ll smash those bastards and send their ashes home in envelopes!”
She froze. “Oh dude, no, too far.”
“Really?” Krazinski frowned.
“Just kidding! When we’re done with them, there won’t even be any ashes to send!”
“And…and we’ll confiscate all of their holdings and use them for the very thing they hate most—the PAC!”
It was the worst bit of trash talk ever, but Krazinski seemed enthusiastic now, so whatever. If it was helping him, she’d play along. “Yeah! We’ll liquidate all their assets!”
Raptor appeared, looking perplexed by the things he’d heard as he entered the mess hall. He looked from Fallon to Krazinski and back, then shrugged. “Tried your comport but you didn’t answer. We’ve got the ships on long-range scanners, if you want to see them.”
She was already on her feet.
Peregrine watched as Raptor and Krazinski followed Fallon onto the bridge, but Fallon had eyes only for the screen. There she saw them—two large people carriers, being very obvious about what and where they were. Just as they’d been directed to do.
She leaned over Hawk’s shoulder to see their ETA. Eight hours. Longer than she’d have liked. She felt like a kid at an amusement park, always in the line waiting to get on the ride. But she could see it now. They were close.
“All right.” She decided to let Ross sleep, since he’d just come off his shift and would need the rest. She’d fill him in later. “Let’s go over it again.”
Krazinski’s presence on the Nefarious made for the perfect opportunity.
He was the one who sent the message, relayed through one of the transport ships, to Dragonfire Station. It would make sense to Colb that PAC command would set up there as they prepared to repair and occupy Jamestown. Fallon was already established there, and the proximity was as good as they’d get.
And Colb knew that command would take risks to return themselves to Jamestown, in order to soothe their allies and restore confidence. He also knew that protocol in such a situation was not to have escort ships with heavy firepower that would only draw attention to the VIPs within.
Colb would recognize this as the perfect opportunity to take out the entire PAC command at once.
In retrospect, Fallon would have gone with smaller, less conspicuous ships. She’d expected to have to use smoke and mirrors to imply the presence of important people. Krazinski had made all that unnecessary, and now she worried that her ships were too obvious.
Well, she could do nothing about all that now. She could only play the game with the pieces already on the board.
When a trio of ships crossed their vector a mere ten thousand kilometers away, the crew of the Nefarious braced themselves. But the ships were only rusty trawlers that puttered right by.
Nothing.
They arrived at Dragonfire as scheduled. So they followed out the farce. They gave all the proper docking signals and informed the station of three hundred passengers to board.
Avian Unit remained in the Nefarious for two days, docked and ready to meet an enemy at any moment.
But still nothing. Fallon and her team, including Krazinski now, finally had to admit that the plan hadn’t worked. They boarded Dragonfire and met with Hesta to decide what to do next.
“Either Colb saw through it, or he decided not to risk taking us on in that situation,” Krazinski said, sitting at the head of the table in an executive boardroom.
Hesta’s decision to make their meetings more formal due to Krazinski’s presence amused Fallon, but she kept that to herself. Rank didn’t mean as much to Fallon as it once had, but she couldn’t blame Hesta for not feeling the same way.
“We need another plan to draw him out,” Hawk said.
“No. That didn’t work before. Repeating the process won’t be any more effective.” Fallon traced a whorl in the design of the tabletop, then froze. Details shifted around in her mind to take on a new pattern.
“He doesn’t want to destroy the PAC. He wants to run it.” She continued to stare at the curving lines of the whorl, letting the new mental image coalesce. “He thinks he has a better way. One that somehow involves illegal technology.”
She ignored the voices around her. Kept them at a distance, a murmur in the background. She was busy chasing the logic, letting it lead her to the truth. She blinked slowly. The universe
