On the Roster - Chapter 4

“Havelock, aren’t you a little green for this?” Ensign Festerwell glared down at her.

Do I look green, sir?

I’m pretty sure I’m more important than you, sir.

I could fly circles around any of you, sir.

Sir, you can kiss my white privileged ass, sir.

But she didn’t say any of those things. She looked straight ahead avoiding eye contact. “Sir, that’s beyond my pay grade to decide, sir.”

Festerwell grunted. One point, Kiri.

“Have you ever been in a firefight”

“Sir, no sir.”

He grunted again. Point Festerwell.

She cleared her throat. “Sir, not since I’ve arrived with the Navy that is.” She said, maintaining her eye contact with the far wall. Maybe point Kiri. Shit.

“Sir,” she added, before he could say anything.

He marched back and forth. “My first insertion, and they’re giving me green recruits barely out of puberty.”

She could see Voidman Corwin suppress a smile.

“Sir, I’m 26 standard years old.” 24, really. But she’d lied on the Navy recruitment form, so this would be backed up.

Marrick (was that Leading Voidman Marrick?) raised an eyebrow. “Sir, the briefing, sir.”

Ensign Festerwell pinched the bridge of his nose before looking up at the squad. “Right. Thank you Marrick. Here’s the situation.”

“Naval Intelligence had a man embedded down in manufactorum sector nineteen-G, Tarthos Secundus. He’s been running with the locals, gathering information on… certain seditious elements. Two weeks ago, we received an encrypted vox message with the codeword for immediate extraction. We got here as soon as we could. His beacon’s active. Command wants him pulled out — alive if possible, with whatever data-slate he’s carrying.”

Festerwell stopped, staring at everyone.

“Sir, anything else?” Marrick asked, his tone deferential and also insistent.

“Thank you Marrick. We don’t know if his cover has been blown, so command is sending in two landers. Any more and we’ll tip our hand. We’re to drop in, secure him, and get out before the locals get organized. Resistance will hopefully be non-existent or otherwise minimal. Any other questions? No? Good. Emperor willing, we’ll be back aboard before mess shift.”

Marrick cleared his throat. “This is going to be simple. In and out. And I’m buying the first round when we’re back.”

Now everyone was smiling. Even Tallow, who looked nervous enough to fill his voidsuit.

Kiri made sure to get in the lander first, sitting against the back wall with her lasgun between her legs. She could smell the incense and recycled air. Throne it felt good to be on a flyer again.

“That’s my spot,” the hulking voidman Corwin said, his brows knitted.

“Not today it isn’t,” she said. From her spot she could see Varro piloting the craft. She needed to learn as much as she could.

“Yes it is. We don’t start without me in my seat. It is unlucky.”

“Sit down voidsman,” Festerwell said.

Corwin’s neck muscles popped as he clamped down on his anger before opening his mouth. He sat down as far from Kiri as he could get, stopping only to stare death at her on not infrequent intervals.

As Varro powered up the ship, Kiri studied his hands as he moved them across the console. She’d never flown a Dragonfly-class Navy lander before, had only tried it once or twice in the Flight Sims, but the controls seemed similar enough.

Even the discomfort of her ‘inheritance’ digging into the small of her back felt reassuring. The weight of her father’s pistol helped her feel like she was prepared for anything.

“God-emperor, help me help you in the best way I know how - shooting straight and flying fast.” Though if yesterday’s sneaking was any indication, she might soon need to add a new skill to the prayer.

She was feeling cautiously optimistic.

The problems started just after takeoff.