On Silver Wings Read Online Free Page B

the armor and planted her feet on the packed dirt floor, where they instantly picked up a coating of earth and pebbles that clung to the remaining gel, piling up clumps of grains between her toes. She ignored it, wiping her skin clear of the majority of the gel with the ridge of her hand before clearing her throat.

    The guard started slightly, then just stared as his eyes came into focus and he found himself looking at a nude woman just a few feet away. His stare intensified, eyes widening, slowly climbing her form while taking long ‘rest’ breaks at her hips and breasts, and then finally made it all the way up to her head.

    Sorilla cocked her head to the left, her expression far from amused, “Get me my gear case.”

    He nodded slowly, not moving.

    “Now.”

    He moved. Scrambling for the door. Sorilla sighed, shaking her head as he left, and walked over to the rifle he’d left behind. She picked it up and quietly checked the breech. Empty, as she’d guessed. The Magazine was locked, however, which was almost better than she’d expected.

    Of course, that meant he’d just left a loaded weapon with the person he was apparently guarding.

    Oy
. She rubbed the bridge of her nose tiredly.
Some days it doesn’t pay to get out of bed
.

    *****

    Tara rushed into the humble hut a few minutes after the man had come running out of it, dragging a towel and a small medical bag along with her. She found the soldier in the process of calmly wiping a blue-green gel from her skin, using the ridge of her hand as a scraping tool with methodical motions.

    The Sergeant was a tall woman, slim but noticeably muscled. Her hair was cut shorter than was fashionable, though not to the shaven extreme that was often implied by entertainment dramas. Her body was probably fitter than would be considered attractive, the tough musculature development of her upper torso tightening and flattening her breasts, for example. While not bulging to the extent of professional bodybuilders, she was hard cut and more solidly blocky than most female fashions idealized.

    She also had absolutely no concern for her nudity, Tara noticed idly. As a nurse nudity didn’t have much effect for her either, so she merely set her medical kit down and handed the towel across.

    “Your supplies are being brought,” She said softly, opening the medical bag. “How are you feeling?”

    “Better.” Sorilla replied, taking the towel and wiping herself down with hard scrubbing motions. “Good to be out of the mummy case, and a lot better to be in control of my implants again.”

    “Does that happen often?” Tara asked softly, “The loss of control?”

    “Never before, to me at least.” Sorilla said, not looking up. The rough towel was taking almost as much skin off her body as it was gel residue, but that was what she wanted. The dead skin cells had built up over the past several days, and she was in dire need of a thorough cleansing.

    Any further questions were interrupted by the arrival of two men carrying the coffin sized case that Sorilla had jumped in with. She ignored their stares as she tossed the towel aside and palmed the biometric identification on the case to open it. It queried her Near Field Communications (NFC) implant, got the answer it wanted, and then slid open on compressed air pistons, hissing even as she reached in a drew out a pair of dark pants.

    She slid them on, cinching the waist and buckling them up with two simple motions, and retrieved an assault vest. Once that was in place she flashed a wry smile at the observers, “Better?”

    Only Tara smiled back, nodding. “Much. Less distracting at least. You might find the color to be a little sweltering here, though. We prefer lighter colors and clothing, it reflects the heat.”

    “Heat’s not my main concern,” Sorilla replied, attaching a bracer to her left wrist. “But these are versatile.”

    Tara was about to ask, but was spared the need when a simple tap on the bracer