"Dammit to the six hells," she exclaimed. "They're moving the package, and we are out of time. You got any stims, Largo?"
"Yes, but I don't think it's a good idea, you're still on the mend," he replied.
"I'm only about ninety percent, and I need that extra ten and change. I can't afford to stumble or fall down on this one, and you know it."
Dester and his crew got the speeders ready while Largo disappeared up the ramp and returned with a stim injector and a pair of goggles. "You're going to need these for the light. Your pupils are gonna dilate, and you can't afford to be half blind either."
"Thanks for everything," Ky threw her arms around Largo's neck and squeezed.
"You bet. Now go out there and do what needs doing. Comm me when you can to let me know you're safe."
"We gotta go," yelled Corso from astride the idling speeder with attached sidecar, the barrel of his rifle rising over his shoulder. Ky planted a kiss on Largo's cheek and sprinted to her waiting companions.
The ride to the cargo shuttle went smoothly leaving nothing but a quickly dissipating dust cloud behind them. Dester headed toward the cockpit to do prechecks and start the engines while Corso, Tol, Voxal and the three men guarding the shuttle loaded the speeders into the hold.
"You all need to buckle in," Dester's voice rang back from the cockpit. "I'm gonna be peeling scabs with this run, razor on the skin."
Ky strapped herself into the co-pilot seat, and the other three secured themselves to jump seats in the back. Dester eased the shuttle from the ground and turned it to a roughly forty-five-degree angle from Sonhem's compound. He'd use that trajectory to gain distance, unseen, before circling back to get within landing distance.
Ky used the travel time to inject the stim into her thigh, tensing from the immediate jolt of adrenaline and stimulants and the jitters that came along with it. Her eyes dilated painfully, and the pupils absorbed every particle of light in the universe before she remembered to lower the goggles. By the time Dester made the turn, her hands had stopped shaking and her eyes no longer stung and watered.
Her mind raced with all the possible ways this could go wrong and ticked her mental list of what they had to do, over and over. She knew her part and could adapt, Corso too, the others were the unknown quantity, but she trusted Largo and therefore his crew by proxy.
"Hang on, the fun's about to begin," a broad grin creased the corners of Dester's mouth as he dove the nose of the shuttle at the ground pulling up just in time so that the undercarriage scraped along the top of a sand dune. He skimmed along the surface raising a cloud of dust and weaved among the dunes finding low hollows he could squeeze through. The restraining straps pulled at Ky every time he changed direction, and the whisper of sand against the hull beneath her feet vibrated up her legs. Damn, the man could fly.
"Throttling back now," he said easing up on the speed. "We're about ten klicks out, and I don't want to notify them we're coming. We'll land at five and speeder in from there."
They loaded the probe into the sidecar of the speeder that Corso drove, Ky on the seat behind him. Tol and Dester shared another and Voxal, being the largest of them, took one by himself. Voxal carried the missile launcher in a sling on his back and Tol had the grenade launcher. They rode at a deliberate pace not to raise any more dust than necessary and halted behind the crest of a sizeable dune overlooking the compound. They dismounted and scrambled to the top, laying sprawled with binocs in hand.
Ky glanced over at Corso whose face had already settled into that calm, dispassionate grimness he wore when they headed into a fight. His eyes went dark and blank as if he walked on a different plane than her and saw things only he could see. He was resolute and deadly and sexy as hell when he assumed this persona—the man with hard, hungry eyes she'd barely glimpsed earlier. To this day, she didn't know where this change came from. When pressed for an explanation he'd only ever replied that it was his 'game face.' She'd eventually ceased asking. She did know; however, he would fearlessly defend her no matter the odds or the cost.
"Only two ships left. Which one you want? I'd personally choose the one on the left," Dester whispered, his voice coming through loud and clear on the earbuds.
"Left it is," Ky looked through the binocs and agreed with his assessment. They were both XS like the Chance, but the left one had a newer smell to it, and the extra blaster cannons peeking out from under the netting indicated promising modifications.
"A lot of men down there patrolling," noted Corso in his flat, emotionless voice. "I count twelve at least, but they're sticking pretty close to the compound, that's a point for our side."
"I can hit the right ship from the top of this dune. Launcher's accurate up to 75 meters, max range is 300, and I'd be close to 200, but I know how to calculate height and arc. Old spec force habits die hard, and skills never die," stated Voxal.
"I'll take the probe down in the sidecar as soon as you blow the ship," said Ky, then turned to Dester. "Can you and Tol cover me?"
"We'll take the probe," corrected Corso. "Not negotiable."
"We got your back," affirmed Dester.
"Let me get situated and you guys start your run as soon as I start counting. I'm pulling the trigger on ten," said Voxal who had already started moving away.
The others mounted up and stayed out of sight just below the lip of the dune. "The timer is set for twenty seconds. As soon as it's off the speeder, I push the button, the countdown starts, and I activate the rockets. And Corso, in case I need to ride it in, you jump off this damned speeder and get to work slicing that ship door. Not negotiable. If we don't time this right, we're all fucked."
"You sound like my old squad leader, Lieutenant Yanis, he was a real hard ass too," chuckled Voxal. "I ain't gonna salute you though I feel I ought to. Almost in position."
Nine...ten, the numbers came over the earbud, and Ky tipped the speeder over the rim of the dune and opened up the throttle, Dester, and Tol at her side. The explosion of the missile rocked the ground starting a sand slide they fought to stay ahead of. Another blast followed close on the heels of the first, the smoke beginning to creep across the area in front of them.
The number of men advancing up the ramp from the compound door was rapidly growing, and Ky was out of options. She skidded to a halt within a few yards of the intended ship.
"Get off and work on the door. Give me cover if you can. I love you."
Corso jumped from the speeder, and she reached inside her boot to pull out a coiled garrote wire with a handle on both ends. Looping the cable around the throttle lever, she opened it back up and sped away toward the bunker entrance hunched low and weaving in and out between the scattered men who were just beginning to overcome the chaos of the initial attack.
Blaster fire came from all directions, she hissed when one grazed along the top of her back and winced when another ricocheted off the probe. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw several men knocked off their feet by one of Tol's concussion rounds.
Just yards ahead lay the point of no return, thankfully the two turrets she saw were silent, likely to avoid hitting their own men. When she reached her spot, she yanked the garrote tight, jamming the throttle, pressed the detonation timer button and rolled off the speeder letting it continue on its own. She spun around, pulled her blaster and headed toward the ship and Corso as fast as the sand would let her run.
Dester and Tol ran as much interference as they could, the concussion rounds did the most damage, and Tol used the ion rounds as well. They hurt like hell and sometimes killed, but would stop a man in his tracks.
She raised her eyes to the ship where Corso stood, blaster in hand, taking careful aim at the men who were close on her heels. A bright bloom of red showed on his pants at thigh level, and the upper arm of his jacket had a hole in it, but he appeared oblivious and continued to give her cover.
"Get that door open," she yelled.
"Drop," he yelled back.
She dove into the sand while a blaster bolt flashed through the air where her face had been. The sound of a thud behind her and she scrambled to her feet just in time to be knocked forward again by the explosion of the probe droid. The blast carried a wave of heat that put the desert atmosphere to shame and sent tremors through the ground. The ship bounced on its struts and sand fell like rain from the cloud of dust and debris.
The goggles protected her eyes but did nothing for her vision. She raised her head from the sand, trying to wipe the granules from her mouth, felt the grit on her tongue and in her teeth and spat. She scrambled to her feet trying to find direction, swearing that each mote hanging in the air was surrounded by a bright halo from the dual suns. Tiny prisms and reflections threw her senses into disarray. Her ears rang, and every noise held a hollow, echoing resonance.
Panic rose in her throat, sharp and sour. She couldn't see a damned thing and had no idea how close she was to friend or foe.
"Corso?" she yelled into the swirling tan nothingness.
"Here! Follow my voice!"
She stumbled and nearly fell when her boot toe encountered the lip of the ramp, the ship rose above her like a behemoth in fog.
"You done with the door?" she asked.
"Almost there," Corso replied, his voice tight with pain.
"I'll stand guard," she said turning to face outward.
She tapped her earbud. "How you guys faring?"
"Still alive," said Dester, "but Tol's hurt. A lot of Sonhem's men are down, but not all of them. Watch yourselves."
"As soon as this door's open, you guys haul ass. I'll let you know when."
The dust cloud, at first heavy and impenetrable, affected everyone's visibility, but now that it was clearing somewhat, movement was picking up.
"Fuck me running," exclaimed Dester. "Must be some sort of side entrance, we got company and a lot of it."
"Corso?" Ky's voice ratcheted up an octave or two.
"Last two encryptions and they're being a bitch."
"Dester, get your guys out of here. There's nothing more you can do. If I live, I'll owe you."
"Good luck," came the pilot's reply. A useless sentiment, but what else was there to say?
Ky crouched down to see too many men in the distance closing fast. Way too many.
"One more," said Corso.
"I don't think it's gonna matter," admitted Ky. "It was a good run while it lasted."
The whine of a ship passed overhead, she stood and glanced skyward barely catching the outline of something sleek and black diving at the encroaching horde of men. Blaster fire, interlaced with tracers, erupted from whatever bird of prey decided it wasn't a good day for her to die. She wasn't about to question the kindness of strangers, not this day anyway.
She hadn't noticed the three men coming at her from her blindside until a green blaster bolt whizzed by her head close enough to singe her hair. One dropped, from Corso's shot, but the biggest kept coming while the other tried to flank her.
"The boss is gonna want a word with you," the big man growled.
"I've got two words. Fuck off," she snarled back. Idiots wanted to take her alive? Ha, fat chance.
She holstered her blaster, crouched and sprang, pulling her vibroknife as she ran and dodging his shots except for one that skimmed her side. She didn't know what the hell the other man was doing, likely trying to stay out of Corso's line of fire.
When she got close, his beefy hands reached to grab her, she ducked and clutched a handful of shirt that hung loosely over his upper arm. She used her own momentum to swing up and around his back like a cantina pole dancer and bury her knife in the side of his neck. He dropped like a nerf bull on slaughter day while she rolled free from his crashing body, pulled her blaster and kneecapped his remaining partner. Scrabbling to her feet she sprinted back toward the ship.
"Door's open," yelled Corso as he ran down the ramp to help her inside, shooting the downed goon in the head as he descended.
"You ready to get off this thrice-damned sand ball?" he asked as he slung his arm around her waist, half carried her through the hatch, and closed the door. Removing the rifle sling, he leaned the weapon against the wall and headed to the cockpit.
Corso dropped into the pilot's seat, holding his wounded leg out to the side and began preflight checks and finally started the repulsorlifts to free them from the planet's gravity well. Once in space, he would engage the sublights until they figured out their destination and calculated the jump into hyperspace.
"You're bleeding all over our nice new ship," Ky said as she leaned down and kissed his neck before slumping into the co-pilot seat and removing the goggles. Still in fight mode, he didn't acknowledge the kiss or any of their injuries. He'd be a wreck once he faded back to himself.
"I'll need to install the transponder cylinder," he remarked, pulling the unit from the utility belt at his waist. "Who do we want to be this time?
The soothing void of space filled the windshield as they broke atmo and left behind the orange and tan ball lit by twin suns that had lost their warmth.
"The Chance is dead, best she stays that way," said Ky. "What's that ID we used just the one time? Oh yeah. Welcome aboard the Soledad Trace."