The Morcai Battalion: The Rescue

Stern’s face went hard. “Does he know about Reboot?”

“Yes,” she said, and he looked surprised. “He said he was familiar with it.”

“And, knowing that, he still made the suggestion?” His face was like stone. “He’s not getting rid of you,” he said shortly. “Not unless he wants to lose the whole unit.”

“Don’t,” she said. “Don’t push him. You guys have as much to lose as I do. I already have one death on my conscience. No more. Period,” she said firmly.

“We’d stand up for you,” he told her.

She smiled. “I know that. Thanks.”

He smiled. “What are friends for?”

* * *

THEIR NEXT ASSIGNMENT was to storm a suspected rebel Rojok base on Terramer, the former site of the Peace Planet that had failed.

Mallory was assigned to the forward unit, led by Holt Stern. But he kept her in the background, refused to let her advance with the troops.

She was treating a Rojok soldier for plasma burns when Rhemun rejoined the group, back from a scout with one of the Cehn-Tahr kelekom operators.

“What are you doing behind the lines?” Rhemun asked shortly.

She stood and saluted. “Captain Stern’s orders, sir,” she said formally.

“Pack your kit and get up with the line,” he said coldly. “Your assistant can handle the job here!”

“Yes, sir.” She didn’t bother to argue. It would have done no good.

She found a place to work just behind a line of boulders and set up a temporary prefab medical hut with one of her techs.

“Go and do triage,” she instructed. “I’ll start with the men here.”

“Yes, sir, Lieutenant.”

She went to work, aware of Greshams firing and chasats returning fire all around her. The weapon fire didn’t bother her as much as the thought of having to use a weapon. She tried to concentrate on her work, but the alien’s face kept intruding.

“Dr. Mallory, there’s a man over there,” her assistant called.

She left the men with minor wounds and ran to her assistant. He was indicating a Rojok who was on a ledge, groaning loudly.

“Go take care of the abrasions in there.” She indicated the hut. “I’ll go over and look after this one.”

“It’s a long jump. Shouldn’t I go?” he offered.

Rhemun would love that, she thought, having her delegate a dangerous chore to a subordinate. It would give him real grounds to demote or reassign her. “No,” she said. “It’s okay, I can do it.”

She walked stealthily along the line of boulders, climbing up until she could see the ledge where the wounded Rojok was lying. His weapon was beside him, but when he saw Edris, he didn’t reach for it.

“D’egles M’char Cha,” she called across in the old Rojok dialect, the one that Chacon had taught her while she was tending Dr. Ruszel’s pregnancy on Memcache. “Don’t worry. I come as a friend.”

The Rojok, even through his pain, managed a smile.

She judged the distance fairly accurately, but when she went across, she dislodged the stone she’d used as a jumping point. It fell into the chasm below. She knew that she’d never be able to jump back across after she treated this poor fellow. But, she’d worry about that later.

She bent to her task. She questioned him and understood the answers as she treated his wound, which was a very bad one. A plasma blast from one of the Greshams had torn through his intestines. Untreated, the damage would have been quickly fatal.

She finished the sutures and smiled reassuringly. He would be taken to a prisoner of war camp, but nothing like Ahkmau. She reassured him that the Holconcom didn’t torture captured prisoners. There was a treaty, under which such behavior was punishable. He only nodded, relieved.

He was able to jump the chasm. Edris, however, was stuck on the other side. The Cehn-Tahr who took the Rojok into custody stared across, motioning her to jump.

She sighed. “Can you send over a levibelt, please?” she called back. “I’m afraid I can’t manage the distance—I knocked over the stone I used as a starting point.”

One of them waved. She hoped they’d send Stern or even Hahnson. But it was Rhemun who came.

He glared across the chasm. “You can jump that,” he scoffed. “It is hardly any distance at all!”

For a normal human, no. But Edris, with her gimpy motor functions, would end up dead and she knew it. For just an instant, she pictured the look on Rhemun’s face as she fell to her death. It would almost have been worth it. She grimaced.

“I’m sorry, sir,” she said, standing formally at attention and saluting. “I really will need the levibelt.”

He jumped across as if he’d moved only a step. “Very well. I can carry you over,” he said with long-suffering patience.

She backed away from him. “Sir...that would be unwise,” she stammered.

He frowned. “Explain that.”

She wasn’t sure how to say it without giving offense and she didn’t really want him to know how much she’d picked up about Cehn-Tahr customs—they were never shared with outworlders. But she was backed into a corner and she really had no choice.

“Sir, it would be unwise for the commander to touch me, sir,” she said stiffly.

He looked down his nose at her with pure contempt. “I see. You’ve heard that certain behaviors in my race can be triggered by touching, is that correct?”

She didn’t like the look in his eyes. “Yes, sir. Begging the commander’s pardon, sir,” she added.

“You think that I find you attractive, so that touching you would provoke me into unmilitary behavior?” he asked, almost purring.

“No...no, sir, of course not, sir.” She hated herself for wimping out.

He smiled icily. “Mallory, I find nothing attractive about you. In fact, the only emotion you provoke in me is revulsion.”

That was harsh, but she didn’t dare reply. She’d gone right off insulting him ever since he mentioned reassigning her. She was afraid of him.

He realized that. And it was unfortunate, because nothing revolted a Cehn-Tahr more than fear. It had been Ruszel’s incredible courage which had won his respect and his affection, despite her race. No Cehn-Tahr aboard the Morcai had more or better reasons to hate humans than Rhemun. Those whom he hated most were dead and out of reach of his vengeance. Mallory was close at hand, and vulnerable.

“Enlighten me, Lieutenant,” he continued. “Why should I find you attractive?”

“Sir, I beg your pardon, but I never said I was...”