“Okay, we get alongside, access the cockpit, seal against vacuum, and extract personnel.”
“Access means a big bang, yes?”
“No. Scorch would usually love that, but this is a cutting job if you want those prisoners alive because that’ll mean an instant decompression. If you don’t want them alive, then that’s easier. Omega has enough air, so their suits are still good for another twenty minutes in vacuum. In that case we just blow the cockpit viewscreen and haul them out.”
Boss had his helmet cocked slightly to one side as if he was asking her to make a command decision. He was.
It was the mission objective versus Omega’s safety.
And that’s what command is all about. Etain suspected this was where she finally stopped playing at being a general.
Omega didn’t have to survive, but a few terrorists who might hold the key to a wider terror network did. Accessing the cockpit carefully with cutting equipment would take more time, time that might mean the Sep ship arrived before Omega was safe and clear.
Her personal choice was immediate. But she wavered over the professional one. She was aware of Gett glancing at her and then looking down at something of overwhelming interest on the deck.
Boss showed unusual diplomacy for a squad that had a name for being unsubtle. He wasn’t blind. He could see her as well as she could see him, and he probably saw a child out of her depth.
“General, I’ve spoken to Niner,” he said. “He’s clear. They’re all clear. This is as close as we’ve come to grabbing some key players for a long, long time, and it probably cost their pilot his life as well. We have to make prisoner retrieval the priority. We all know the game by now. It’s a risk for us, too. We might all get vaped.”
“I know you’re correct,” Etain said. “But none of you is expendable as far as I’m concerned. And I know you’ll do everything you can to get them out alive.”
“General, is that an order, and if so, what is it? Extract Omega and abandon the prisoners? Or what?”
She felt her stomach fall. It was relatively easy to be the commander who held a trooper as he was dying. It was much, much harder to stand there and say Yes, rescue three terrorists and let my friends die-let Darman die-if that’s what it takes.
Had they asked Skirata? What did he say?
Gett touched her arm and indicated the tracking screen. He held up three fingers. Three minutes behind the Sep vessel now. They were gaining on them.
“Extract the prisoners,” Etain said. It was out of her mouth before she could think further. “And we’ll be right behind you.”
Unnamed commercial freighter, drifting three thousand klicks Core-side of Perlemian node: Red Zero first responder ETA six minutes
Fi studied his datapad and considered his brief and busy one-year career as an elite commando.
He’d fought at Geonosis. He’d taken out a Sep research base, nearly slotted his beloved Sergeant Kal, and ended the careers of eighty-five assorted Seps and more droids than he bothered to count. And he’d denied the CIS an awful lot of assets, from replenishment depots to a capital ship and a fighter squadron that didn’t even have the chance to fly its first sortie.
Some of it had been fun, most of it had been a grim hard slog, and all of it had been frightening. And now the cheerful euphemism was over; he was probably going to die. And he didn’t want Skirata to witness that.
He looked up from the expired op orders on his datapad and saw that the holoimage of Skirata was still much as it had been for the best part of two hours. Sergeant Kal waited. He wouldn’t leave.
Niner continued to stare out the viewscreen.
Then he sat bolt upright, prevented from shooting forward by the restraining belt. Fi checked his viewpoint icon and saw he had activated his electrobinocular visor.
“Visual contact,” Niner said quietly. “Fierfek, it really is a Sep crate. Neimoidian.”
The whole squad maneuvered so they could see what he was looking at.
“About time,” Niner said. Fi listened in. “Delta, Niner here. You been sightseeing?”
“Boss receiving. Sorry, we had to stop and ask for directions.” He had a voice very like Atin’s but with a stronger accent. “My boys are now going to show you how to do an extraction properly, so take notes because you might blink and miss it. There’s a Sep ship with missiles up the spout about three minutes behind us.”
“Can we bring some friends?”
“The more the merrier. We’re going to align with your cockpit, slap an isolation seal on the viewport, and Scorch will cut through. Then you shift it fast, and we RV with Fearless for caf, cakes, and hero worship. Got it?”