Chapter 4

The radio crackleinside Christine’s helmet was like an alarm clock. She sat bolt upright, dragging herself from the gentle clasp of Parello’s suited arms. She’d curse at her stiff and sore muscles later.

“Captain Christine Merrill here.” Cursing her slow brain, she swung her chin far right and brought up the tactical display on the inside of her helmet. A single Stinger ship was cruising toward them, low from the north. Even as she spotted it, it dropped lower and banked in her direction.

Either it was trying to stay below an enemy’s radar sweep or?—

“Shit!” She silenced her comm, punched the Off switch mounted on Parello’s cuff for his comm, then shook him. Shook him hard. Deep sleeper.

She rested her helmet against his and shouted, “Soldier!”

“Huh? What?” He grabbed for his cross-slung rifle, but they were so close, he actually grabbed her chest. Through their visors, she could actually see him blush. It was pretty cute, but she didn’t have time for cute.

“Incoming craft,” she spoke loudly enough that he’d hear through the helmet-to-helmet conduction. “Don’t think it’s one of ours.”

“Why?”

“An itch.”

He nodded. He clearly knew a soldier stayed alive by trusting that itch.

“Comm on, but handsign only. Roger?”

“Roger, Captain.” Then he leaned forward and kissed the inside of his visor. Close as you could come to the real thing in a suit.

What the hell? Be interesting to find out what it was like to kiss Parello. Really interesting. She returned the gesture, feeling both touched and ridiculous.

She rolled away, restored comm, and, for the first time since the crash, fully powered up her suit. Her heads-up display showed her weapons status; both the pair of launchers built into her pack and the SCAR rifle she’d now pulled free and taken into her hands.

The situational map pinpointed Parello ducking below the rock behind her. From his extra gear he’d grabbed a Demon, a nasty little ground-to-ship handheld missile with a seriously bad-ass attitude. He’d hold that in reserve as a weapon of last resort. If they killed this ship, they might have no way at all off this rock.

She unslung her forty-millimeter rocket tube and tossed it to him. She’d take the meet-and-greet and be ready for forward fire if needed. He’d be the hammer behind, covering her as long as she stayed off to one side.

The Stinger came down, kicking a rolling wall of sulfur that settled quickly enough in the thin atmosphere.

Two troopers dropped to the surface, but rather than approaching, they moved to guard positions on either side of the airlock.

The man who stepped out next made her freeze.

No matter how much training she’d had, there are some things that she’d never be prepared for.

She was still frozen.

Knew she was directly in Parello’s line of fire, but she couldn’t do a thing about it.

The figure strode up to her and stopped a mere two paces off. His gloved hand rested on the pommel of a sword he wore outside his suit.

“Hi Chrissy. Haven’t seen you in a long, long time.”

“Dad.”