Furnace (Hunter-Killer #1)

Chapter 20 - Where the Currents Are Calm

 Ryke had never been more grateful to be out of the Hunter-Killer.

His legs nearly buckled when he clambered out of the cockpit, his body slick with sweat, muscles screaming from exertion. He felt like he could sleep for years. With a weary sigh he sank into a sitting position on the bottom rung of the step-ladder, letting his body relax at long last.

He wallowed in his exhaustion for a moment, letting the din of the hangar envelope him, pounding his senses into numbness as he let his mind simply drift. His emotions hadn't caught up him yet – he knew that. Right now all he felt was a sense of shell-shock. Did they count that as a win? The operation had doubtless yielding valuable intelligence about the Scraegans, from the layout of the complex to the strange, shrine-like chamber they'd found their captive in.

Then he had to balance that against all the Hunter-Killers they lost, including Colonel Aggathor.

He'd been alive when they freed him from the ruined mass of his Hunter-Killer, but his injuries had been horrific. He died halfway back to Brekka.

Ryke exhaled, long and slow, closing his eyes. It wasn't his job to sort out the aftermath. He'd done his job. HK-Rupture had fought their guts out to secure their mission objective, losing two of their number in the process. Fate dealt him some strange twists, as things turned out. When he joined the Hunter-Killers command was not an aspiration he'd harboured, but now he almost relished being in charge of the small, tightly knit unit. On that level, at least, he was ruthlessly effective.

"By the Everflowing River," said a voice. "I thought I told you to take better care of this thing."

It took him a moment to catch up with reality. His eyes flickered open and he found Ivy standing over him, hands on hips and jaw agape as she stared at the half-wrecked form of his Hunter-Killer. Ryke looked at her, trying to formulate words to respond. Before he could collect his thoughts her gaze dropped to meet his and a sympathetic smile crept across her face. She sank down into a crouch in front of him.

"You okay?" she asked quietly.

Ryke shrugged. "I'm alive."

"Not what I asked."

"I'm not really sure yet."

Ivy nodded. Her eyes flickered up to the battered Hunter-Killer and back down to him. Then she reached forward, putting a gentle hand on his shoulder speaking low so no-one else could hear. "I'm off the clock in six hours. Meet me out the back of the main barracks – you look like you could use a real break from ... all this."

"Sure." He doubted he'd feel much better in six hours, but he was too weary to argue with her. Sighing heavily, he looked to the right down the line of the surviving Hunter-Killers. Engineers and medical staff swarmed the bay, peeling wounded pilots out of their ruined machines. With a groan of effort he took hold of the step ladder rails and pushed himself upright.
Ivy stood with him, following his gaze down the ranks. Her smile faded.

"You better go see to your people," she said, the levity gone from her voice. Her hands slipped from his shoulder and she stepped past him, appraising the Hunter-Killer beyond with a critical eye. "I'll see you later."

"You did good," he murmured. "She brought me back in one piece."

Then he was moving, forcing leaden limbs into a walk towards the surviving members of his unit. He reached Preese's bay just as the other pilot hopped off the step ladder. The short dark hair of his companion was lank with sweat and he rolled his shoulder experimentally. Ryke clapped him on the back as he passed. Preese nodded stiffly; Ryke moved on.