|
Malla went to the sealed door and opened her end. There was a pop, and a twinge of vertigo
as the pressure adjusted. She was surprised to see the station door was still closed as well.
She pressed the release bar, and stepped back. The door cycled open with a hiss.
Standing in the doorway were two fully armored Luo soldiers. A large, unusually empty hangar
stretched out beyond them. The right-hand helmet tipped to the side, almost quizzically.
The other even bigger soldier said, "Fuck me." His voice was distorted by the filter on the
full cranium helmet. Both of the men holstered their weapons at the same time.
Malla sized them up. Her image reflected back at her in the shiny surface of their black
visors, looking tiny. Be brave. Be bold.
"Greetings, Grady, Shon. Sorry I’m late." She cringed at the inadequate words, and added,
rather lamely, "It’s nice to meet you."
One of the men pressed a sequence into his comlink at his wrist and his visor cleared. She’d
been correct. It was Shon on the right. His black eyes seemed to pierce right through her.
He was visibly shocked. "Malla?"
"Reporting for one month’s trial, sir. I understand you’ve had a bit of a tough run."
The other, larger soldier let out an enormous "You're alive!" He rushed her with his arms
out-stretched.
Horrified, Malla whipped her mag case at him with a snap of her wrist, cowering back, crying,
"Stop!"
He froze not a meter away, clutching her mag case in his arms like a ball. Standing stiffly,
his voice rumbled from his helmet, "I beg your pardon."
Shaking from the near miss, Malla lifted her hand to her neck and undid the cloak’s seal.
"No, it’s not that. I’ve just had a bit of trouble on the trip here, and I lost my
medallion, and my cloak is on full array. Even your armor might not have been enough." She
let it fall to the floor around her, and shook off the wrist leash. "But now that you’re
here, I won’t need it anymore." She stepped out of the folds, and went right up to the large
man.
Laying her hand on his arm, she said, "What are you doing here? You’re injured, both of you.
You should be resting."
He dropped her poor mag case to the side, causing it to bounce once with a clang before
settling on its axis. Then he grabbed her up and crushed her in a giant hug. Malla got a
distorted view of her astonished face in his visor before she was wrapped in a clutch of
stiff body armor that smelled of antiseptic.
When his grip slackened, she turned her head and saw Shon had stepped up to them.
His helmet hung from his fingers, thick black hair mussed, those black eyes still piercing
her. His eyes moved across her face with desperate disbelief. "You, woman, are a Spirit-sent
miracle. I can’t believe you made it."
She gave a shaky smile, laying her head on Grady’s chest. "You better believe it. Because I
came here for you."
She meant her words to be a bit of banter, and was surprised by his reaction. His head
jerked back as if he’d been hit, and his eyes went wide. Then a mask came down over his face,
his eyes flat and distant. Her smile faded.
She pulled a hand out from Grady’s surrounding arms and reached out to him. "Shon, I’m here,
and I’m glad. Let’s get all of you taken care of, then we can talk."
He stared at her for another beat, then stared at her outstretched hand. His shot out
inhumanly fast and gripped hers hard, the armor cold and thick. His eyes met hers again, and
there was something there. A hint of his prior disbelief, and a hint of aching hunger.
Then she squeaked as Grady dipped and abruptly she was tossed into his arms, cradled, with
her legs awkward and stiff in the air, her outer arm flailing as it pulled out of Shon’s grip.
She reached and grabbed at Grady’s neck.
"Let’s go, Shon. Now." Grady’s voice rumbled out of his echo-y helmet, quivering with
eagerness.
|
