by J. F. Holmes
Graduation Day
Yakov Merkin
“Where are they, Shiri?” shouted Rhivas as he wrenched the controls of their zadir, narrowly avoiding a rocket fired by one of the two remaining enemy zadir—or possibly from one of their infantry support. Wouldn’t it have been nice to have some of that?
“I have one of the zadir just behind the ridge directly ahead of us,” she replied over their internal comm line. “Can’t get a lock, though.”
“Arc a couple missiles over ridge. If we don’t score a lucky hit, it’ll at least draw them out.”
“We haven’t got many of those left, you know,” she replied as Rhivas took their quadrupedal wolf-form zadir in a zigzag pattern toward the troublesome ridge.
“Firing!” Shiriana called, and Rhivas saw the two missiles arc into the air above them.
Seconds later the missiles began to descend, and moments later Rhivas saw the explosions over the ridge.
“Shiri, ready with that cannon; I’m arming forward guns—and plasma claws.”
“Ugh, not again,” said Telthar, the third and final member of their crew, as Rhivas took them into another jarring, sharp turn. “You do remember that every melee engagement ends in at least some damage to us, right?”
“Oh, what are you complaining about?” Rhivas replied, “it’s not like you’ll—Shiri, you see the second target?” Even as the close-range scanners showed the first target advancing, following the missile explosions, he’d spotted the other suddenly appear.
“I see it, Rhiv. Weapons free?”
Rhivas smiled. “You know it.”
The zadir began to shake slightly as the cannon and their last missiles fired, making it a bit harder to steer, but he kept them on course.
Then he saw it. A large zadir, of a more alien lupine form, leaped from behind the ridge and began to aim its twin cannons.
Rhivas charged it, ignoring Shiri’s complaints about the maneuvers making aiming hard.
“Firing and engaging plasma claws!” Their charge had caused the enemy cannon fire to miss, and he wasn’t about to let the enemy readjust their aim.
He fired the forward guns, but as expected, it did no more than superficial damage to their more heavily-armored foe. As the enemy zadir tried to reposition itself and began firing its own forward guns, Rhivas took them into a leap. Their front right claws took the enemy in the head, and after colliding, both zadir fell hard to the ground.
Rhivas got them back up quickly and saw that the other zadir didn’t move again—likely due to the large gash through its head.
“Status on the second one?” he asked.
“Down. Took its leg clean off.” He could hear Shiri’s wide, vicious smile.
“I won’t trouble you with a damage report,” muttered Telthar.
“Thank the Ancients,” Rhivas replied. “Those last couple infantry are still up. Going to charge them.
Without waiting for an answer, he took them into a run and began firing.
Moments later, it was over.
“Best time, again!”
A few seconds later the view outside vanished, and Rhivas began to unstrap himself from the simulator.
“Great job, you two!” he said as they climbed down, then he gave the still wildly grinning Shiri a high five.
“Come on, Tel,” she said at the only member of the crew not exuding excitement and punched him lightly on the arm, “stop moping. We got best time, and it’s not like you actually need to fix anything.”
“Still have to make the report, though,” Telthar said with a frown, “and I don’t look forward to replicating this in the real thing. We have ranged weapons for a reason, you know.”
“Yes,” Rhivas said, raising a finger, “but it’s always possible that we’ll run out of ammo, so it’s good to be well-versed in melee combat. And don’t deny that it’s fun. Once we get into the real thing, finally, we’ll be able to put music on, too, make it even more awesome.”
Telthar cracked a smile. “Got me there—so long as you don’t put on any of that awful stuff you like to call music. There is something about being in a zadir while it runs and jumps—even in the simulator—that gets the blood flowing.”
“Glad to hear you have a pulse, Tel,” Rhivas said, clapping him on the back.
“Now,” he added, draping an arm around the shoulders of each of his crewmates, “what do you say we enjoy our last night free of official responsibilities?”
Rhivas waited a moment to see if Telthar would point out that, technically, they had official responsibilities right now, but their engineer held his tongue.
As he led them toward the exit, it hissed open, and Glaive Squad stepped inside.
“We beat your time,” Rhivas said, “don’t bother trying to top it.”
“What? No, I don’t care about that,” said Kaezyl Ailar, the pilot and commander of Glaive Squad, an excited look on his face. “I have some info about the ceremony tomorrow.”
Rhivas let go of his crewmates. “Go on,”
Kaezyl’s smile broadened. “So you know how they brought in our zadir for the ceremony?”
“Of course. We all saw them get shipped in. Can’t have the inaugural ceremony for the Zadir Corps without the things being there, functional or not.”
“Well, I snuck a look at the schedule; we’re going to pilot them at the end of the event.”
“No way,” Rhivas said, but he felt his heart begin to race. “You’re messing with us.”
“I swear, it said ‘brief walking demonstration of the zadir by the crews’. It’s right at the end. I guess they wanted to surprise us with the news during rehearsal tomorrow.”
“Guess they finally got everything running,” said Telthar.
“What this means,” Rhivas said, “is we all need to celebrate extra tonight. The others know?”
Kaezyl shook his head. “Not yet. Was closest to you guys after I found out.”
“Well then, let’s go spread the good news!”
***
“To the first inductees into the Zadir Corps!” Rhivas toasted an hour later, raising his sadly non-alcoholic drink. Without permission to leave base, they had to make do with the on-base restaurant—admittedly a very good one, and far more than most bases had—and it sadly adhered to military regulations regarding alcohol.
“To finally piloting the damn zadir,” added Biareth Lothean, the commander of Saber Squad, the third of four crews that made up their platoon, raising his own glass.
“And to getting a real drink tomorrow night,” added Gielris Forend, the gunner of the fourth crew, Storm Squad.
“To all that, and to no one messing up at the ceremony tomorrow,” said Shiri, and they all drank.
“So,” Rhivas said as they began to eat, “I can’t be the only one who’s thought about showing off a little more than the zadirs’ walking ability tomorrow.” The immediate reactions of his fellow pilots confirmed his suspicion.
“I think,” Telthar cut in, “that such a plan should wait until we see just how much space we have to work with tomorrow.”
Well, at least he wasn’t totally against the idea.
After they adjourned sometime later, Rhivas caught his crew before they left. “So, I might have a more proper celebratory drink in my quarters, if you’d like to join me.”
“Why am I not surprised?” said Telthar with a smirk. “Sure, I’m in, but just one drink.”
“Shiri?” Rhivas asked.
She flashed him one of those smiles that made his heart flutter, and he returned the gesture in kind. “Of course I’ll come, boss. You know me well enough by now.”
“I knew I could count on both of you.”
Rhivas led them to his quarters, fished the small bottle of whiskey out from its hiding place, then grabbed three cups from a shelf.
“To us,” he said as he poured some for each of them, “to Deadshot Squad!”
They drank, and the trio stood silently for a few moments.
There was a lot of uncertainty ahead. Were the zadir ready for actual operations? What sort of missions would they get? For all the publicity and promotion the new program got, it was still very new, and Rhivas could understand its many critics.
“Well,” Telthar said, breaking the silence, “I still have that ‘damage’ report to send, and I think getting a good night’s sleep before the big day is a good idea. You don’t want to go through all that with a hangover, certainly.”
“See you tomorrow,” Rhivas called after him as he departed.
After Shiri did the same, he turned back to her. “He’s probably right, but I don’t think one more drink will hurt, right?”
“I’m game if you are.”
Rhivas poured them each another.
“What should we toast this time?” he asked.
Shiri raised her drink. “To us?”
“To us.”
After they downed their drinks, they stared at each other quietly for several long moments. It would be so easy to get lost in her blue eyes, and there was a lot they’d have to figure out regarding themselves going forward.
“I have to admit,” she said, “I’m nervous for tomorrow. Everyone will be watching, judging us. Military, government officials, our families, other guests…and that’s only those who’ll be physically here. Who knows how many thousands will be watching the broadcast all over the Empire?”
Rhivas set his cup aside, placed a hand on Shiri’s shoulder, then put a finger under her chin and tilted her head to look her in the eye. “You have nothing to worry about, Shiri. Everything you do always comes out great. Besides, all you’ve got to do tomorrow is look pretty. I’m the one who’s got to speak at the reception after the ceremony and pilot the zadir.”
“Yeah, well, I have to ride it,” she replied with a smirk. “Whatever you and the other pilots concoct, you’d better not mess up my uniform.”
“Or what?”
She jabbed him lightly in the side. “Or I’ll make you regret it, sir.” She dropped her voice to a whisper. “I do know where you sleep, after all.”
Was she trying to say something beyond the obvious joke? These things were always so tricky and confusing, even more so with him technically being her superior.
“I know, I invited you here, and you’re welcome to come again,” he said, then took a calculated risk, placed a hand on her hip, and pulled her closer. They’d been playing the flirting game for too long now; it was time to move forward.
She didn’t resist, actually leaning into him. “Now I see why you’d risk showing me where you sleep,” she said with a giggle. “But as nice as it is here, we both really need to sleep well tonight to be sure we look our best tomorrow.”
She took a half step back, then pulled him toward her and kissed him lightly on the cheek.
“See you in the morning, Rhiv,” she said, poking him in the chest before she left the room—but not without pausing first to give him a wink over her shoulder that made him flush with warmth.
Until tomorrow, then.
There was much to look forward to, it seemed.
***
The next morning, Rhivas had just finished polishing his boots—today, of all days, it was worth the time and effort—and was pulling them on when he heard a quiet knock at the door.
“Come in, it’s unlocked,” he said.
A moment later the door opened, and Rhivas couldn’t help but stare. Shiri was there, and he’d never seen anything, anyone, as beautiful in his life. Her perfectly tailored uniform fit perfectly. It fit her almost like a second skin, accentuating all the right features of her form. What little makeup she’d put on brought out her already striking eyes, and her dark red hair was tied back in a simple, martial style, hanging down her back to where he knew it ended a few centimeters below her shoulders.
She smirked at him and placed a hand on her hip. “Are you just going to keep staring, or are you going to finish up and join me?”
Rhivas felt his face go warm, then quickly finished tying his boots and got up.
“Dress uniform looks good on you, Rhiv,” she said.
“And on you,” he replied as he walked up to her. “You’re absolutely perfect—look absolutely perfect.” He shook his head. “I wish I had something cleverer to say,” he added as he placed his hands on her upper arms and looked into her eyes, “but words seem to be failing me right now.”
“Well, maybe we just need to shock that brain of yours awake.”
Without another word, Shiri reached up to the back of Rhivas’ head and pulled him into a gentle kiss.
Rhivas hadn’t expected it, and in that moment, there was nothing else that mattered in the world—in the galaxy. How long had he wanted this?
He leaned further into the kiss and reached a hand around to Shiri’s back…but a moment later she pulled away and shot him a wry grin. “Tel’s going to be here any minute, and besides, I don’t want to mess myself up and have to redo my makeup and uniform in half the time.”
“Then why did you—”
She shrugged. “It felt right. Don’t worry, Rhiv, we’re not done.”
Still…now this was going to occupy his mind all day. And she definitely knew that; Shiri was a real sparkplug.
“I’ll remember that, you know.”
“I’m counting on it.”
Telthar’s arrival cut short any additional flirting, however.
“All ready to face the music, I see,” he said.
“I’m honestly dreading another rehearsal more than the real thing,” Rhivas replied.
“Sadly, the boring stuff can’t be avoided. Let’s head on over; it wouldn’t do to be late on graduation day itself.”
“Lead the way,” Rhivas said, gesturing down the hall.
As he began to follow Telthar, he felt a tap on his shoulder. “You’ve got something on your face,” Shiri mouthed silently as she indicated a spot on her own face. Rhivas reached up to wipe his face and wound up with a slight red smear on his hand.
He bit back a curse. Telthar had definitely seen that. Well, their brilliant combat engineer probably knew about…all of this already.
The ceremony. Focus on the ceremony. Later you can think about…other things.
***
A few hours later, it was time. Rhivas stood with his crew and their three fellow crews just inside a building next to the massive parade ground—plenty large enough to take zadir for a short walk or run—already in formation to march out. He stood two steps ahead of Shiri, behind to his right, and Telthar, behind and to his left. The other crews were directly behind in the same configuration.
Then, the music began to play. It was time.
He glanced back at his crew and smiled at them, a gesture they returned—and Shiri added a wink.
At the right moment, Rhivas began the march out.
The music was familiar and stirring; it took some effort to maintain the prescribed marching pace and not speed up in time with the song—rehearsal had paid off.
Soon, however, they stopped on command, at the right spot, and turned to face the assembled crowd of at least a few hundred, the cameras, and the officers and officials. Now, after the line had swung around, Shiri was at one end, on his right, Telthar on his left.
Then General Belloras, the commander of the Empire’s terrestrial forces, began to speak.
They’d heard it all before, so it more or less became background noise as they stood at attention, and the same went for the other speeches until the end, the actual induction.
“Rhivas Arovan, clan Nightbow,” he called out, and Rhivas stepped forward, as rehearsed, stopping to accept his service weapon from the commander of the Armored Corps—under which the Zadir Corps world serve until it was large enough to operate completely on its own—saluted, then continued to the general, saluted, and stood just to the side, facing the crowd.
“Shiriana Vilas, clan Moon Eye,” he called next, and Shiri did the same, then moved to stand behind Rhivas to the right
, as before.
“Telthar Laithas, clan Night Rider,” the general called, and Telthar joined them.
Once he took his place, the general continued, “The first crew of the Zadir Corps, Deadshot Squad: Captain Rhivas Arovan, pilot; Commander Shiriana Vilas, gunner; Commander Telthar Laithas, engineer.”
He paused, and the crowd began to applaud—Rhivas allowed himself a brief smile as he made eye contact with his parents—as red lights lit up his zadir, the first to their right, facing the crowd, as the general, the head of the Armored Corps, and the brigadier general who sat just below General Belloras in the hierarchy, began to affix their various pins—for the Zadir Corps, combat status, officer status, in addition to their marks of rank. Once done, the general smiled and shook Rhivas’ hand. “Congratulations, Captain, you’ll do us proud,” he said.
Rhivas thanked him, saluted again, and once all three were done, stood facing the crowd for a few more moments, then led his crew back to their spots. As he did so, he looked at the massive field and the zadir. Plenty of room to do a bit more than walk them a few steps; he and the other pilots already had a basic idea in mind to really wow the crowd.
It was tough, remaining still as the process was repeated for the other three crews.
Then it was finally time, following a live transmitted greeting from the emperor himself.
The general, flanked by all the command staff assembled—likely here more for the demonstration than anything else—spoke again.
“And now, before the usual close of the ceremony, we have a very special addition, a short demonstration of the brand new zadir units!” He paused for a moment. “Zadir crews, allow me to ask you to—”
His final words were drowned out by blaring air raid sirens.
Rhivas’ head snapped to the sky, ceremonial discipline forgotten, along with everyone else. After a few seconds, he saw what looked like weapons fire in the upper atmosphere. Then, he saw what looked like large, roundish objects falling from the sky.
