He was very far from Engineering.
Celene stood and shouldered her pack. “Ready?”
He got to his feet and slung his own pack onto his shoulders. “Of course.”
They stepped out of the Phantom and into a thick, green wilderness. Vines covered with luridly bright flowers snaked around the tree trunks, and plants with leaves as wide and broad as wasserboats drooped overhead. Outside of the ship, the sounds of the jungle came in a cacophony. Unknown animals cried out to one another, wings of large avian creatures flapped and the drones of insects came as loud as engines.
As Celene adjusted the straps of her pack, he saw a long-legged ruminant peering at them from the shelter of the underbrush. The animal had green fur, mottled like the forest floor, and a long, sinuous neck. It stared at the newcomers with six violet-black eyes. Nils knew better than to approach it, and was even more thankful for his caution when he saw the creature’s young poke its head out from between its parent’s legs.
The most dangerous animals were the ones with young. Even gentle beasts turned deadly if they sensed a threat to their babies.
He slanted a glance toward Celene. She was checking her weapons with a practiced eye, her motions quick and capable. No doubt in his mind that, of the two of them, she had far more experience in combat. Yet seeing her against the backdrop of the treacherous jungle, a primal need tore through him, far removed from the orderly world of the 8th Wing and his Engineering lab.
Have to protect her.
The thought almost made him laugh aloud. If anyone was going to do the protecting, it would likely be her saving his ass. But this wasn’t about the responsibility of one soldier to look after another, or modding a pilot’s ship to ensure he or she fought well. This was about him and Celene, together.
The thought shook him, so much so that it took her saying his name three times before he answered.
“You with me?” she asked, a frown between her brows.
He drew a breath. “Every step.”
Together, they moved into the forest.
Dark green shade immediately covered them, but the air was no cooler. He felt as though he were swimming through the atmosphere, its damp heat pressing down like a hundred hands trying to shove him to the ground. Within minutes he’d soaked through his uniform.
“Marek’s compound is on the coast.” He checked the scanning device clipped to his pack. “Jungle on three of its sides, pounding surf on the other.”
“Distance?” She climbed carefully over a root as thick as a normal tree.
“Given the conditions, calculating our rate of speed, factoring in rest periods and this planet’s rate of revolution…” He ran the computation through his head. “We should reach him by midday tomorrow.”
A wry smile curved her mouth. “In the meantime we have all this natural beauty to entertain us.” She glanced up as a long yellow reptilian creature slid along a branch, sunlight reflecting off its jagged scales. It left a trail of glistening slime on the bough. As both Celene and Nils watched, the reptile struck out at a blue-furred mammalian animal perched on another branch. The mammal barely had time to squeak in alarm as poison-tipped fangs sank into its side. In a minute, the reptile had unhinged its jaw and was slowly digesting its prey.
Nils double-checked to be sure his blaster held a full charge and was easily accessible.
Silently, they pushed on deeper into the jungle. He felt torn between fascination with this alien place and a perpetual sense of wariness. As he and Celene trekked, they wordlessly pointed out to one another the continuously unfolding wonder of the rainforest. Incandescent flowers he could barely span with his outstretched arms. Creatures that appeared to be a cross between arachnids and feathered birds of prey. A herd of horselike animals. They watched him and Celene pass, their orange-and-pink hides twitching with caution. Clearly the beasts had had some interaction with humanoids, judging by the wide berth they gave Celene and Nils.
Celene took the lead, and his attention wavered between studying the exotic jungle and watching her smooth, economical movement. It might’ve been decades since she last ventured into the wilderness, but she moved with confidence, her gaze never resting, her body always primed for action. Despite the hazards of their surroundings, desire formed a steady second pulse beneath his heartbeat.
There were some cultures and planets that kept their females in perpetual servitude, helpless and dependent on males. The Devanians, for example, blinded females caught learning to read.
Fools.
There were murmurs that the Devanian women were plotting a coup to overthrow the oppressive regime. Already, 8th Wing had committed several troop units to aid in the revolution, when it finally happened.
Several solar hours after Nils and Celene had commenced their trek, they stopped to rest and take refreshment. She sat down on a root, easing off the straps of her pack with a sigh.
He rummaged through his pack for their rations, and she groaned.
“When I was held captive, they fed me some kind of gruel that I’m fairly certain had viscera in it.” She eyed the sustenance-pak he held out to her with distaste. “That tasted better.”
He chuckled, thinking that even Stainless Jur had her limits. “A few of these plants bear fruit.”
He didn’t want to draw attention to their presence by firing his weapon, so he used a long stick to knock down a fleshy yellow pod the size of an infant. It landed with a muffled, heavy thump on the forest floor. After pulling on gloves, he took his sonic blade and cut the pod in half.
“Oh, Ten Hells,” Celene said, and gagged.
He reeled back, pushed away by the stench emanating from the fruit. “It’s like carrion, stagnant water and feet, all mixed together.”
“Maybe it tastes better than it smells.” She wiped at her watering eyes.
“Its juice is sizzling. I’d rather not take that chance.”
They edged away, finding a new place to rest that was not downwind. With little choice offered to them, he and Celene ate their rations, washing it all down with water treated by their solar hydroprocessor.
“Don’t think I’ll be collecting any samples on this planet,” she murmured between bites.
“With any luck, we won’t ever come here again.”
Both fell silent, and he had to wonder if her thoughts mirrored his. This harsh jungle might serve as their final resting place, even if they were successful in their mission. He didn’t want to entertain such thoughts. The idea of dying certainly held no appeal, but, as it did for all members of 8th Wing, the prospect of death always hovered close. PRAXIS was a formidable enemy. The roster of the fallen grew longer and longer every solar year.
Yet he couldn’t stand the thought of Celene laid out in her ceremonial uniform, the honorary wreath of white pala blossoms draped around her neck. And that was for the lucky few. Most had no bodies left to be adorned and burned, effigies taking their place. Thinking of this filled him with fury and gutting sorrow.
Don’t smear ash on my arms just yet. We’re both still alive. We will survive this mission. He had to believe this.
He started when she nudged his shoulder with hers. “Marek is the one who should worry, not us.”
“How’d you know what I was thinking?”
“If a person’s expression could be flammable, this whole jungle would be blazing.”
He glanced down at his boots, digging trenches in the soft forest floor. “Not sure I’m suited for a life of combat.”
“I’ve got no complaints about your fighting capability. Hells, you’re as good as any of the Wraith Squad.”
Her praise created a small burst of light within him, like a star being born. Words were not enough, however. “How do you tolerate it? Seeing your squad mates fall?”