by Greg Dragon
“Yes, sir,” Raileo said and straightened up. Helga could see Quentin trying not to smile. He had a lifetime of experience and knew better than to assume he was ready. It made her respect him more, for he was obviously intelligent, which went against everything she thought about planet-busters.
“What’s your story, Tutt? Why’d you sign up?” she said. “A man with your track record could have gone to officer school and be working on becoming an XO or commander of his own ship. I doubt anyone would question your ability, though I have to say you’re nothing like the infantry men I know.”
“You mean I’m not a blunt instrument,” he said under his breath, and then he smiled, which made him handsome, and she suddenly had a hard time looking at him. “I was once one of those rowdies, making noise and thyping off life, but when you see enough death it tends to season you fast, and one day I realized that I was out of place. See, I spent my entire career being angry, and it manifested itself into survival. Then last year this time, Captain Sho called me to his cabin.
“I thought, here we go, you did it this time, idiot, they’re letting you go. See, I had a Sergeant Major named Aws, a real piece of work. The man stayed on me about being a loser, and then he drags my dead wife into the insults. Ma’am, you haven’t seen me more violent than the day he said her name. We got to fighting, and I had him on the ground, pounding his skull … it took five of them to pull me off him, and I was thrown in the brig, back on Rendron.
“When Captain Sho requested my presence, I knew that I was getting kicked out of my unit. They would strip me of everything, I would be discharged … with no honor. It killed me to think that after so many years of service, I had let that wormy little cruta rid me of one thing I loved, the Corps. But Captain Sho didn’t call me to punish me. In fact, he thanked me for my service. Told me that I was ESO material and then handed me an invitation to BLAST. I couldn’t leave fast enough, and it was the toughest trial of my life. They starved me when I was locked up – extra punishment for knocking in Erik Aws’ teeth.” He laughed.
“I read your records on what you did during BLAST,” Helga said. “Here is where you belong, I’m sure of it.”
They spoke at length on the cadet academy, which allowed Raileo to chime in about his own struggles to prove himself. He too was passed over, for reasons other than his scores on his mental and physical tests. It made Helga feel lucky that she had Loray Qu as her cadet commander when she had been in the academy.
“Hearing your stories makes me realize just how lucky I was as a cadet,” Helga said. “I hated everything and everyone, but it made me effective when it came to a fight. Still, to hear that politics held you men back makes me wonder how I dodged that bullet. It was my commander, Loray Qu. If not for her I’d probably be grounded on the Rendron, running repairs on her fighters, or on the mainline swabbing the deck.”
“You think you had it bad. Try being a child raised on a hub, drafted into the cadets,” Raileo said. “Actually not just that, try being from a hub in the cadet academy, after the adults thought it a good idea to announce to the ship how you were one of the lucky recipients of a position in their ranks. I didn’t learn to shoot at the range, I learned to shoot because I had a stun blaster that I stole from the depot. I would take it out after hours every day and shoot the little schtills that bullied me the day before.”
Helga started laughing. “That’s beautiful. You would snipe them?”
“Yes,” Raileo said. “I would get them walking through the barracks, or on the ship when they would be alone, off to do whatever it is little schtills do. The best time was when I got this brat, Bradley Onx, off to see his girlfriend on the upper deck. Shot him mid step up the ladderwell and when I stunned him, he hit every step on the way down. Man, that felt good. He had the most to say about my parents.”
“I hated spoiled rich Vestalians like that,” Helga said. “Their parents got them a ride on a Capital ship so that they could brag about ‘little Vernan serving his planet’ or some such nonsense. They are worthless and do nothing to help our situation against the Geralos. They don’t donate credits to the hubs, where most of our people are stuck, and they live in mansions in regions just like this one, where the alien natives act as their servants. I wish that I had a stun blaster when I was a cadet. All I had were these.” She showed them her fists. “And they stayed bruised and bloody.”
“Well, you turned out just fine,” Quentin said, smiling.
“It depends on who you’re talking to. Ask the lieutenant, you’ll see that I’m not. What about you, Tutt? Were you bullied, or was a large lad like you one of the ones giving the hub scum and half-aliens hell?”
“My parents sent me to Aqnaqak and they actively support the Alliance. I’m from a long line of military people, so it really wasn’t a choice. I knew what I was supposed to be. As to the bullying in the cadet academy, I didn’t take part because I had a mission to do while I was there. I was to make first-class, that was my directive, and while I fell short eventually, it wasn’t for lack of trying.”
“You truly are an asset to this Navy,” Cilas said. “I see so many ESOs who made it on talent or gifts, but you … you’re different. You made it out of drive and an unwillingness to lose.”
“Thank you, sir, but I have my faults. I didn’t bully my fellow cadets, but I didn’t step in to defend any of them either. I’m sure I laughed at a few mean jokes meant to hurt the poor victim, and I may have watched in silence as one of them got beaten up or harassed. My father was my commander, you see, and his instructions were clear. ‘You’re better than them, you are a Tutt. So carry yourself with dignity and bring us pride by making first class.’”
“What class did you get?” Helga said softly. She remembered seeing his stats on the substrate but couldn’t recall if he was one of the tops.
“I made third,” he said ruefully, “and what hurt the most about that is it was political. I was top of our academy in just about everything, but I had gotten involved with my cadet commander and one of the Marines found out.”
Helga couldn’t believe her ears. “Quentin,” she chided, leaning in close. “Did I misjudge the man that is seated before me? You’re a bit of a playboy, aren’t you?”
“Wait a second,” Raileo said. “How old was this cadet commander of yours?”
“Twenty-five,” the big man said, smiling. “We started fooling around when I was sixteen, but I was always a large lad, y’know … I could pass as an older man, but that’s not what she wanted.”
“Oh, you were large?” Raileo said, sitting back as if impressed, and Helga felt her cheeks hurt as she began to blush. It was juvenile, but hilarious, until she thought of what happened to Quentin and how this older girlfriend had cost him the goal he had worked hard for.
“So you were held back from first-class all because an adult couldn’t resist making you her paramour?” she said angrily. “What a worthless cruta. Please tell me she’s fueling ships on the dock or grounded down here as a representative.”
“Nope, she was removed from the cadets but was given a position on the bridge. Helps that she had family in the Alliance counsel, but yeah, I was knocked out of the running for first-class, and since second-class was a coveted slot, they kept me at third for graduation. Man, talk about tough. I’ve been through all sorts of schtill as a Marine, but nothing sticks it in like that graduation day. I thought that the third-class rank would be enough to remove me from my father’s will, but the scandal made its way to Genese and that was when he stopped taking my calls.”
“I’m so sorry, Tutt,” Helga said, placing her hands over her heart. He mouthed a silent ‘thank you,’ and she patted him on his leg, thinking about how easily she could have had a similar scandal back then.
“Is there anyone here whose cadet experience wasn’t awful?” Raileo said. He looked over at Cilas, who was the only one that hadn’t shared. The lieutenant merely returned his glance before looking forward, as if the disc
ussion didn’t warrant his attention. “Lieutenant?” he pressed, and Cilas shot him a weary glance.
“I’m like you, kid, I was born on a hub, alright? I didn’t have a stun gun, or a sexual predator as my commander, but like Ate, I had these.” He showed his fists for emphasis. “I taught the lot of those little rich schtills where exactly I stood. In time with enough teeth scattered on the deck, they learned to fall in line. After that, I had no problems. I gave them a choice and they chose the easy option, which was to leave me alone.”
Oh to be big and male, Helga thought, remembering how despite her willingness to fight, the cadets would double down on making her life hell. “That’s why you’re our leader,” she said in a sugary, cheerful voice, and the rest of the Nighthawks laughed, picking up on her sarcasm. She was impressed by Cilas. She had always been impressed, since the first day she met him when he visited the cadet academy to speak to the recruits. The fact that he volunteered this much information from his days as a cadet spoke volumes of how comfortable he was with this new team.
“We’re about fifteen minutes off the coast of Harmon,” Misa announced suddenly. “I’ll be giving you a countdown before opening the hatch, but then I need to cut and get out of this area fast. We may have been spotted so I don’t want to take a chance. Good luck on your mission, and I look forward to hearing all about it in a week’s time.”
“Get your packs on,” Cilas shouted, and Helga was surprised to see that two hours had passed. They had been doing so much talking that it calmed her nerves to let time go by. She grabbed the bulky backpack and strapped it on and felt the sensation of Raileo adjusting her straps. When it was locked in place, she turned around to help him with his, and then they donned their helmets and lined up facing the rear of the dropship.
Helga thought about the PAS armor and how it would have made this drop effortless. Not to mention that when it came to combat, they would have the edge over the unarmored Wolf. “Ten seconds,” Misa announced, bringing her out of her thoughts to focus. Here we go, she thought as Misa’s count reached five, and then the floor fell out from under them, and the noise drowned everything out.
Between the roar of the dropship’s thrusters and the wind trying to warn them to stay inside the machine, it sounded like rocks inside of a blender, and she could barely hear Cilas telling them to jump.
Time froze as she followed Quentin, leaning forward until the air sucked her out into the white. It was beautiful, absolutely breathtaking, and between the clouds, she could see the emerald tops of the islands down below. They had been flying high to avoid eyes from below, a little over 6km when the hatch opened up. Now she was in free fall, less than a minute away from the ground, feeling the force of gravity pulling her down from the sky as her brain tried to fool her that everything was alright.
Cilas had jumped first, so she could see him further down. Hearing was impossible at this speed, so she watched what he was doing to know when to deploy her glide. Ten seconds in and the lieutenant spread his arms to the sides, which triggered his pack to eject a bulk of fabric and iron. Though they all wore uniforms made from padded cloth, along the arms and legs ran nodes which served as guides for the transformation. Snakelike tendrils ran along the back of his arms and legs, and then it all seemed to flatten out, like a giant kite on his back.
From above him, the other Nighthawks copied his motions, releasing their “wings” which would allow them to glide. Helga smiled when hers fired and it lifted her upwards, giving her the control she had craved inside the dropship. Although this wasn’t a ship, it still felt good to be flying. She pulled in her arms to collapse her wings and tilted down to fly past Quentin and Raileo, then popped it back open when she was above Cilas.
“Having fun, Ate,” he said through the comms, but she was laughing too hard to hear him.
7
As the surviving residents of the Syr hub gathered the bodies of the deceased, another ship appeared before the atmosphere shield. It was sleeker than the first that had brought with it the raiders, but still served to send everyone into a frenzy.
Of the 1,100 people that lived on their level, 162 had been killed during the raid. Several hundred had been injured or disabled, while most had remained hidden until the raiders left the hub. They had all come out of hiding when the ship had taken off and had begun the process of cleaning up and disposing of the dead. The ship was a mystery, but no-one dared hope it was friendly, even after they had sent the Alliance a message about the attack.
Tasmin, convinced that the Alliance would take its time on the rescue, had begun helping with the clean-up effort when she was almost run over by a large man, sprinting. He was with a group of people rushing to the shelters to hide and didn’t seem to care that she was in his way. She did not panic, however, her state of numbness delaying self-preservation. If she was to be captured, then she may see her family again, and they would either die together or find a way to get off the ship.
She was on her knees scrubbing blood from the deck of her stack’s second level, and upon seeing the ship, she stood up slowly and stared out through the transparent shield. The bulky ship hovered eerily, as if someone inside the cockpit was scanning the hub for life. After a time it moved, touching down on one of the docks, and then a bridge was extended and the crew was coming aboard.
Logic pushed past the young girl’s paralysis and she looked around for a weapon. She could go inside her house and try to hide, but if one of them found her there, she would need to protect herself. Quickly she slipped back into the only home that she had known her entire life. In her compartment, she slid down to her stomach, inverted herself and looked up beneath her cot.
Moving around some fabric she found a loose panel and removed it, then slipped her slender hand into the cavity inside. Her fist closed around the spike, an electrical tool that was meant for repairing spaceships. It had been a gift from her mom to protect her when she was outside. It was one of the best gifts she’d ever received, a literal lifesaver in more ways than one.
Just last year, around her sixteenth birthday, three goons had felt the bite of that electrical fang. She had been on her way home from work when they tried to grab her. Luckily, she had brought it with her and had the wits to use it on them. Bad things always happen around my birthday it seems, she thought sadly, and then tip-toed back to the front door to peer out at the new invaders.
To the right of the open shield wall was an airlock that spun and popped open with a hiss as several large figures appeared, each toting a weapon. Tasmin exhaled with relief when she recognized their uniforms. These were Alliance Marines. Their help had finally arrived.
Though her legs felt like jelly she walked outside of her door, secured the spike, ran down the stairs and made her way past the crowd towards the line of Marines. An imposing figure walked forward towards them and removed his helmet and slipped it under his arm. He had kind, patient eyes despite his gruff demeanor, and as he scanned the hub, Tasmin felt safe for the first time in hours.
The Marine raised his gloved hand and made the symbol of the Alliance. Not everyone on the satellite had the ability to read, so the symbol was a quick way for them to know that they were friendly.
“Citizens of the Syr,” he announced, his voice just as soothing as his eyes, and Tasmin drifted closer to hear what he had to say. “We received your call and we are here to help. If you can, I need several volunteers to tell me what happened here. I would prefer people who got a look at the attackers and can give us details on their appearance.”
His name was Master Sergeant Codi Arc, and he was the man in charge. As he spoke to the survivors who were brave enough to speak with him, his men scurried to help with the clean-up effort. Codi heard them out, offering his condolences, but when he asked if anyone could describe the ship, no one raised their hand.
When he asked again, Tasmin stepped forward. Her legs felt as if she were wading through tar. She thought it funny that she felt nervous approachin
g this friendly savior when just a few moments before she had been poised to fight.
“I saw it,” she said, her voice barely a whisper as she stepped out to face the Marine.
“It’s alright, young woman. We are here to help,” the panther-like giant said. “Tell me what you saw in as much detail as you can muster.”
He reminded her of a hairless cat that one of her friends had been given. She had named it Poof, and though Poof lacked fur she had brought nothing but joy to their lives. The resemblance made it easier for her to talk to him, and she even raised her voice as she found the confidence to speak. “It was Satellite Security, sir, the ship and the men. I saw SatSec uniforms, but some of them were blue, kind of like yours, but a bit darker, and there was no patch, just plain.”
“Were the boots of these blue uniformed raiders black or were they white?” the man said softly.
“White,” Tasmin said, inhaling to hold back the tears. There was no memory without the pain of loss, and it caught her off guard, so she paused to collect herself. “They were white, and I can tell you that they weren’t Geralos. I heard two of them, and one sounded like a person from Genese.” She looked around to see if her neighbor, Ilevar, was in attendance, but when her eyes met those of his weeping daughter, she snapped back around to face the sergeant.
“Is your family here, young lady?” Codi said, stepping in close so only she could hear.
Tasmin froze. My family, why is he asking about my family? she wondered. Shouldn’t they be running to their ship to chase the bad guys?
“It’s alright,” he whispered. “It’s okay.”
“It is not,” Tasmin retorted, louder than she intended. “They were taken away, just like everyone else. My little sister is with them and she’s only eight years old. Why aren’t you going after them now that you know who they are? They can’t be too far, they’re in a ship with no FTL drive.”
