Trial and Temptation (Mandrake Company) by Ruby Lionsdrake

destroyed Grenavine,” Gregor said. He was tempted to mention that his suspicions related to that attack had been the main reason he had tried to encourage Calendula to leave the academy and train in a civilian flight school, but he didn’t know if she remembered their brief discussions from back then.
    “But you’re not Grenavinian.”
    “I disagree with the notion that world-destroying is a viable solution to ending insurgency.” Gregor spread his hand, wishing he had a better way to share the sense of betrayal he had felt at being a part of an organization that had so little regard for plant, animal, and human life, but he was much better at describing the elements of an ion engine than at describing his feelings. Besides, he struggled to qualify why he would join a group of mercenaries, who also took lives, when he had refused to remain in the fleet. A matter of scale, he might argue, but when he was honest with himself, he admitted he hadn’t been able to give up flying. Real flying. In combat, pitting himself against another human being or a computer, and coming out ahead—knowing he and others would die if he didn’t. He had almost returned to the fleet to ask that his commission be reinstated, but then he had chanced into a meeting with Captain Mandrake and found his organization less deplorable than expected for mercenaries. “I spent a couple of years piloting star yachts for finance lords and freighters for those who wished they were finance lords, but it seemed a waste of my skills. I was not ready to retire.”
    The comm beeped, cutting off whatever Calendula’s response might have been.
    “Thatcher here,” Gregor said.
    “Mandrake. Summers’s contact on the space station reports that he’s not at the meeting point, and he’s not answering his comm. He’s believed to still be down on the moon base, possibly in unfriendly hands.”
    “I see. Abort the pickup?”
    “I need you to find him, Thatcher. The company is already on the way to Icesphere, making plans to engage with the enemy. We’ll buy you the time you need, but don’t dawdle. Understood?”
    “Yes, sir.”
    Gregor looked over at Calendula, wishing he had a couple of fighters along, as well. He could have taken them—the captain had offered—but he hadn’t wished to deny the rest of the company any manpower, given what they would be up against. It certainly hadn’t seemed necessary to take security for what had been described as a simple pickup at a neutral location.
    “It sounds like more than my piloting skills are going to be tested today,” Calendula said.
    “It may be so.” He could leave her in the shuttle—given the dubious nature of the base’s reputation, that might be wise—but she would have had basic weapons training back at the academy, and it might be useful to have another gun at his back.
    “Who is this Summers we’re picking up, anyway? Nobody ever told me.”
    “Admiral Douglas Summers. Have you heard of him?”
    “Sounds familiar. Strategist?”
    “Yes, a famous and well-respected GalCon fleet commander and master tactician. He originally came from Icesphere, the Malbakian continent, and he decided to take extended leave to come back and help his people thwart the invading Orenkan army.”
    “Ah. So getting him could turn the tide down there? For the good guys? Or at least the side we’ve chosen to back?”
    “Very likely.”
    “Not to sound overly greedy and, er, mercenary, but is there any chance I’ll get a combat bonus for helping?” Calendula asked.
    Her interest in money surprised him, or at least the fact that she was bringing it up. Would she be unwilling to go on the mission if there wasn’t a combat bonus? He found that slightly disappointing but reminded himself that mercenaries, even trainee mercenaries, did expect to be paid for risking their lives. It was possible some debt loomed over her head, requiring a payoff. Yes, given that she had mentioned money before, that seemed