Valkyrie Rising (Warrior's Wings Book Two) by Evan Currie Page A

scuffed up from time to time around here.”
    Sorilla didn’t say anything; nothing particularly intelligent came to mind.
    Graves walked over to the door, which was still jammed down on Sorilla’s rifle. “Nice move. Figured you’d make a slide for it, myself.”
    “I figured if someone was twisted enough to pump VX into the room, the door might just take one of my legs off if I miscalculated.”
    The general nodded. “Check into that, Lieutenant, I never asked how much force the door had.”
    “Yes, sir,” the young butter bar croaked out again, rubbing his throat and trying not to glare at the woman who could, and likely would, cheerfully break him in half.
    Sorilla suppressed the urge to glare at the general. It was one thing to scuff up a new butter bar… A sergeant , especially a master sergeant, could just possibly get away with that. Glaring openly at a brigadier, not so much.
    “Word came through from Fleet,” Graves said casually. “They want you now.”
    Sorilla actually took a few moments to work out what he was talking about. “Sir? I thought you said I had more time to decide?”
    “I thought you did. Something changed,” he told her. “Don’t know what, but they want an advanced recon team in the worst way. You in, or do I send someone else?”
    She didn’t really have to think about it. If Fleet was after their own SOCOM team, that meant that they had a use for it. At the moment, there was really only one thing that use could be, and Sorilla was looking forward to another shot at the aliens. She had a few questions she wanted answered, and they were the only ones with the answers.
    “I’m in. I’ll be in New Mexico in three days. That all right, sir?”
    “Perfectly fine, Sergeant.”
    She nodded, idly kicking her rifle out from under the door and wincing as the heavy door slammed shut with enough force to shake the Shoot House. Sorilla shot a glare at the lieutenant, who suddenly found something very interesting on the other side of the room.
    Sorilla rolled her eyes and threw the general a salute, which he returned casually.
    “Go on, Sergeant. Give ‘em hell for the SF.”
    “Bet on it, sir,” she replied before turning on her heel and striding out.
    His eyes followed her departure as he nodded.
    “Already have, Sarge.”

Chapter Three
    USF Cheyenne
    Jump Point Alpha–Atlantis System
     
    Despite an uncharacteristic shudder as they re-entered normal space-time, Patrick was surprised how smoothly things seemed to have gone. He checked a couple readings from internal diagnostics then addressed his officers.
    “Clear the heat shields, let’s get a look around.”
    “Aye, sir.”
    The Cheyenne’s external sensing systems slowly came back online as the heavy heat shields were retracted. Given the danger of slamming into excited particles at high velocity, the admiral had ordered that they jump blind in order to preserve the more delicate systems from possible damage. It wasn’t a bad thought, but it did limit how quickly they could begin gathering information about their immediate location.
    Long-range data wasn’t an issue; there was always a delay there, but jump points were known locations in space-time. It was only a matter of time before the enemy began picketing them the way Fleet had, only likely with heavier weapons.
    “Close-range systems online. We’re clear.”
    Patrick nodded, relieved. “Good. Get me a good look at Atlantis as soon as you can.”
    “Aye, sir.”
    “Squadron data-link is coming back up. All ships accounted for.”
    Patrick nodded his thanks. “Sound general quarters, signal the squadron to do the same.”
    “Aye, sir. General quarters.”
    The alarm began to sound as the Cheyenne’s reactor spun up, bringing the ship to ready stations across the board. The ship’s powerful Tokamak reactor was the only way to generate enough power to run the VASIMR drive at the levels needed for a military ship, but it couldn’t run in jump space. The lack