Ghost Squadron: A Jericho Johnson Story

by J.A. Stowell

  Chapter 1

  Piper pushed back from the desk and stood, logging out of the private holonet while she did. She felt like she’d been sitting a long time and her legs felt stiff although it was most likely from the cold. There really wasn’t a place left anywhere that didn’t at least have a cold draft and the Rebel base was no exception.

  “Nice touch with the Christmas bit,” she heard from the door behind her.

  “How long have you been there?” Piper asked accusingly, glancing at Arc leaning against the doorframe.

  “Long enough,” Arc said, crossing to her. “Has anyone ever told you how beautiful your smile is?”

  Three years ago, Piper would have told him, “Yes. Jericho

  Johnson did on the first day I met him.”

  But now, “Not recently,” she said, wrapping her arms around

  Arc’s neck and smirking at him. “Maybe you should.”

  “Your smile is beautiful,” Arc said, smiling himself and kissing her forehead.

  “Let’s see if it’s just as beautiful while we eat,” Piper told him, pulling away and grabbing her white long coat of the desk she’d just been sitting at. “C’mon, I’m starving.”

  Arc’s smile faltered. “Actually, I came to inform you that

  Beck wants to see you.”

  Groaning, Piper let her head roll back and she sighed at the ceiling. “Beck can wait until after we get to spend a normal evening together. It’s been weeks, Arc.”

  “I know, Pipe,” he said, his face saying more than his words. “But I think you should go see her.”

  Piper frowned at him while she slipped into the white long coat that she and everyone in the battalion she commanded wore. “Is she worse?”

  “I’m not sure.”

  Her normal evening suddenly forgotten, Piper headed for the door, stopping only for a quick kiss. “I’ll see you later, love.” Arc told her and she left.

  The Rebel base used to be a mech factory over fifty years ago and it was just within the city limits of Flagstaff. Most of the bays used for mech creation were now being used for almost the same purpose while Piper walked across the long iron gangplank hanging from the ceiling and glanced down at the Rebel men working on the never-ending flow of broken down machinery and weapons.

  Shivering, Piper pulled her white hood over her blond hair. Reaching the end of the gangplank, she took the elevator to the floor that Beck’s quarters were on.

  Most leaders have better living areas than the men and women they’re leading. Even the Vikings did. But Beck’s quarters were small and barely bigger than Piper’s.

  Beck had told her that she just didn’t care and that a bed was a bed when she’d asked her about it years ago. But Piper knew now that the reason Beck didn’t care was because she wasn’t actually human.

  Piper had known this from the start but was never more certain of the fact until the past few months. Beck had always been eccentric and downright hateful in her mannerisms—all of which were excused by everyone due to the fact that she was physically able to rip a man’s head from his shoulders if she wanted—but now things were different.

  It had started with severe headaches almost two years ago, landing the Rebel leader in bed with most and sitting out missions with others. A year ago was when Beck began blacking out. On the good occasions, she would simply faint. On the bad ones she would do and say things for days only to come to herself, having no recollection of what she had done.

  In the past few months Beck’s health has declined drastically and she had confined herself to her quarters, allowing no one in except Piper and Arc.

  Beck didn’t have to eat, drink or do anything normal to stay alive so the Rebel physicians were at a loss as to what exactly to do since any form of infection or virus was cancelled out. The only thing Beck had to do that was human was sleep— other than that she was self-sustaining.

  Or at least she had been up until two months ago.

  That’s when her long black hair had begun to fall out in large clumps, resulting in Beck deciding to shave the rest off herself into a buzz-cut. “Now it’s my idea,” she told Piper when she first saw it.

  These weren’t comforting thoughts as Piper exited the elevator and found Beck’s door, which she knocked on.

  “It’s open.” Beck said from inside.

  Piper pushed into the medium-sized room and found Beck sitting on the side of her bed, her hands gripping the sheets so hard her arms shook.

  “What’s happening?” she asked, quickly crossing the room and dropping to her knees in front of the quivering woman, placing her hands on Beck’s forearms.

  “I’m dying,” Beck said, her voice barely a whisper.

  “No you’re not,” Piper assured her with a smile. “You probably just passed out again.”

  Beck was already shaking her head, her eyes squeezed shut. “This was different. I saw my body on the bed and I was standing beside it. I tried to touch my arm but my hand went through it…”

  Then Piper saw something she’d never seen before.

  A tear rolled down Beck cheek when she opened her eyes. “I was dead. I know it.”

  “But you’re alive now talking to me.”

  “I don’t understand it but either way I don’t have much time left,” Beck told her and suddenly she grasped Piper’s shoulders and looked her in the eyes. “Listen to me. Almost four months ago I was able to contact someone in Cross’s facility. Some science chic named Ritu. She said that Cross was working on someone like me only this someone was perfect and didn’t have an expiration date.”

  She was talking fast but Piper took in all of it. Dr. Cross had rebuilt Beck over seven years ago after she’d been basically killed during a firefight in the streets when she was eighteen. Beck had become obsessed with somehow getting him to fix her but attempts over the past few months had failed due to his building being a near fortress.

  “Beck, you don’t have an expiration date,” Piper said while she still gripped Becks arms.

  “Says the girl in the room who still has hair,” Beck muttered. “Anyway, Ritu said that she’d contact me again once Cross was done with his little science project and she’d know by then how to fix me.”

  Piper wanted to believe her. The idea of her friend, the person responsible for saving her life, somehow thriving again with her hair, strength and attitude back was what she wanted to believe. But she also knew that Beck hadn’t been mentally stable of late and had been prone to episodes bordering on schizophrenia.

  Piper must not have been good at hiding her thoughts because Beck shook her head again. “I’m not crazy, Piper. Get me on the holonet and I’ll prove it.”

  Before Piper could say anything else, her holotab lit up.

  “Commander Piper,” a female voice chirped.

  Beck was still looking at her when she answered the call,

  “Go ahead, Rone.” “S-20s, ma'am. Three of them just came across our borders.

  Looks like Bears,” Rone said. “They're coming fast, too.” Piper stood. “Assemble the Ghosts, Rone.”

  “Aye, Commander.”

  Beck was staring hard at the floor when Piper closed her holotab. “I'm not crazy,” she said quietly. “I don't know why my contact hasn't contacted me back yet but I know I talked to her.” Piper squeezed her friend's hand. “I'll be back in a few hours and we'll talk about it over checkers. Deal?”

  She was trying to lighten the mood but Beck was more distant than usual. “Try to not die,” she said, lying down on her bed and pulling the covers over herself. “Then we'll try and contact Ritu.”

  Piper headed for the door. Dying was the furthest thing from her mind.