Pursuing Dreams (The Young Soldier Book 1)

by MK Clark

  “Same as always.” The boy, Cain Gunner, grinned. “Bucking the system, causing problems, and you?”

  Don sat. “Mmm. That sounds vaguely familiar.” He looked around the rest of the table. “Sophomore, Crash,” he said, nodding at two others.

  “Yo.”

  “Didn’t expect to see you here,” Crash answered in disgust.

  “Good lord, O’Hara!” Gunner exclaimed. “You just know everyone, don’t you?”

  “Comes with the territory,” Don said with a grin. “Although I don’t know why Crash, here, didn’t expect to see me, with as much as I move around.”

  “On the bright side, you won’t be here for long,” Crash shot back.

  “Love you, too, Crash. So how do y’all know each other?” he asked.

  Sophomore shrugged, putting more food in his mouth. Gunner leaned forward, motioning to Crash. “Well, we just met Kuntz, here, and Sophomore and I go way back to Basic.” He pointed at the fourth person, whom Don didn’t know. “This is Chloe Richter.”

  She nodded at Don. “Good to know you.”

  “Same. Where’d they get you?”

  “I transferred in from the Hudson.”

  Gunner elbowed him with a roguish grin. “She’s a twin.”

  Chloe rolled her eyes and stood. “If you’ll excuse me.”

  “Oh, look at that figure!” Gunner moaned as she walked away. “I can’t wait to meet her sister. Brooke Richter. She’s here, too,” he informed Don.

  “Careful, Cain,” Sophomore mumbled.

  “Yah, yah, I know,” he said, waving the warning away.

  “Not that this hasn’t been pleasant—” Crash started, moving to get up.

  Don interrupted him. “No, stay. I’m leaving.”

  “You are?” Gunner asked, a little hurt.

  “We’ll catch up later. Promise,” Don reassured him, and Gunner nodded, mollified. “Try not to let my presence ruin your day,” Don told Crash and then moved on.

  He waved at a few more people as he walked. He was beginning to get a good idea of the diversity within the ship and wondered if there was a hidden rhyme and reason to it, or if it really was as random as it seemed to be.

  When Eli found him, he was holed up in the pilots' training room, lounging in the seat of an FMT and mulling over what he had seen so far.

  His friend parked himself on the simulator’s side. “Well?”

  Don let his eyes flicker in the other boy’s direction. He grunted in response, not wishing to expend any more energy than that.

  “What do you think of it all?”

  “I dunno,” Don answered slowly. “It’s very strange, this whole set-up.”

  Eli shrugged. “It might work, though. I mean, it really might work. We all had the right training. We know what we’re doing.”

  Don nodded absentmindedly. “True, but it doesn’t make sense.”

  “Maybe that’s why it might work,” Eli answered. He dropped his gaze after Don didn’t reply. When he looked back up, there was a hunger in his eyes. “Don’t you ever get tired of being hated? Don’t you ever feel like you just want to belong somewhere?”

  “Preacher, you okay, man?” Don asked, sitting up a little. He couldn’t remember a time when he had seen the other boy look so intense.

  “This has got to work, O’Hara, it’s just got to.”

  Now Don really was concerned. “What’s eating you up? What’s going on?”

  Eli shook his head and smiled, but all Don saw was sorrow. “I just thought it was awful nice here, and I don’t want it to end.”

  “But, Preach,” Don started slowly, “you know it’s got to end. Something always happens, and we move on.”

  “I know.” He paused, struggling with his words. “I just wish we didn’t have to.”

  “What happened to your whole It’s all a part of God’s plan philosophy?”

  Eli laughed, and when he stopped, there was a twinkle in his eye. “You’re going to preach my own religion at me?”

  Don blushed in response.

  “No worries,” Eli continued. “Technically, you’re right; I should believe and have faith in whatever the perfect plan is.” He sighed. “It’s just, sometimes it’s hard.”

  “To have faith?”

  “To give up what I want,” Eli corrected. “That doesn’t make much sense to you, does it?”

  Don shrugged. “Not really. Only, I think you’re holding back. I think there’s more going on than what you’ve said.”

  Eli acknowledged him with a slight tilt of his head, but didn’t surrender anything else.

  “Suit yourself,” Don said. “We all have our secrets.”

  “I heard you talked to Titus,” Eli answered, changing the subject.

  “Yeah. He was concerned by my, uh, diverse resume.”

  “So what do you think of him?”

  Eli’s question sent a wave of memories from the past year washing over Don. “I’m reserving judgment,” he finally answered.

  “You seem to be doing a lot of that,” Eli frowned and shook his head.

  “What?”

  “I just can’t figure you out anymore.”

  Don opened his mouth to speak, but he had no words. There was a terrible silence afterward when Don felt as if he had failed some test. No, it was worse than that; he had failed his friend. “Sorry,” he mumbled.

  Eli jumped down from the simulator. “You don’t have to be sorry, man. It’s not your fault.”

  Don watched as Eli began to walk away. It only took him a few seconds to launch himself out of the simulator. Eli turned in surprise at the noise. Don grinned and draped an arm across his shoulder. “Where we going, Preacher?”

  Eli gaped at him and then he smiled. “Well, I heard there was a Black Knight on board.”

  “Really? That seems like an interesting rumor to pursue.”

  In the end, they did not have long to look. Their orders came quickly. The Zarweans had found a weak spot in the strategic defense zone, and as one of the few ships in the area, the Pilgrim was being sent to push them back.

  “Suit up,” Syke told them grimly. “We’re going to keep things as familiar as possible. O’Hara, you’re on Lana’s wing. Preacher is on me. Go, go now!”

  They went.

  The blockade was barely holding by the time they arrived. Titus deployed the squadrons immediately.

  Chapter 23

  May 27, 627 T.A.

  Don and the other pilots settled quickly into their lives aboard the Pilgrim. It was a Class III cruiser and weathered battles better than many ships Don had been on. This meant the Pilgrim was constantly on the move, leaving them little time for leisure. It had only been a little over two months, but she was already gaining a name for herself. They were proving, despite public skepticism, the impressive capabilities of Space Jumpers.

  Don was surprised at how quickly the Pilgrim had become home to him, yet he allowed himself reservation. “It’s a set-up,” he told Syke when they were alone.

  “You probably right,” the other answered grimly. “Now that we’ve proven we not gonna fall flat on our faces, we gonna have to keep it up.”

  Don was already shaking his head. “It’s more than that.”

  “I know.”

  “We aren’t going to be allowed to fail,” he continued after a time. For some reason, he felt it was imperative that Syke understood. “The moment we do, they’re going to shut us down.”

  Syke regarded him for a long moment. “I know, O’Hara,” he repeated. “I know, and it won’t just end with us. They’ll use it against the whole Space Jumper program. Any failure on our part would be devastating.”

  They knew, and they understood. There was nothing they could do but keep winning. Failure was not an option. So they won. Skirmish after skirmish, battle after battle. Between these, they got to know the other pilots. Don spent much of his free time working with his mechanical crew. It was a habit he’d adopted since meeting Charlie. And although taken a
back at first, the crew quickly warmed up to him.

  In one of their few breaks from action, Don and his flight were sent out to patrol. It was a simple walk around the block to check the outposts along the SDZ in their current sector.

  They were halfway through their circuit now. Two more outposts, and then they would rendezvous with the Pilgrim. Only the outpost they were currently headed toward was nowhere to be found. It was gone.

  “Where is it?” Eli asked, voicing the question everyone was thinking. “Syke?”

  “I don’t know, Preacher. These are the coordinates. It should be here.”

  “It might have drifted a bit. That happens sometimes.” Lana’s voice sounded nervous.

  Don shook his head. She was grasping for an answer, and they knew it. There had been stories of spatial drifting, but they were unreliable. Don’s hands tightened on the stick. He didn’t like it. The longer they sat in silence, speculating, the worse the feeling got.

  “This is wrong,” he finally said. “Things don’t just disappear―”

  “We need to report back to the Pilgrim. The outpost has been destroyed.”

  “No,” Syke answered firmly. “We don’t know that it was destroyed. We have to confirm it.”

  “Confirm it how?” Lana asked, incredulous. “There’s no debris!”

  “There wouldn’t be,” Syke mused, so quietly they barely heard him. “Not if they used a vaporizer.”

  “A vaporizer?”

  “Whoa, man,” Eli interjected. “That would be taking this war to a whole new level. Even the turds wouldn’t do that. Think of the consequences.”

  “Vaporizers are rare,” Don added slowly, “even for them.”

  Their reluctance was understandable. Anything would be better than what Syke was suggesting. The Zarweans had broken through the line before, but not like this. If Syke was right, they now had no idea where their enemy was.

  “That’s true,” Syke answered. “They are rare, but if the incentive was big enough—” He didn’t finish the thought, but they all knew where he was going.

  “We gotta confirm it.”

  “How?”

  Suddenly, Don knew. He understood. “We run a scan. We measure the proton residue levels. If they’re high, we’ll know.”

  “Right you are.”

  “Then quit yapping and run it!” Lana snapped.

  “I already am,” Syke answered before silence took over.

  Don’s APRIL flashed a warning at him. He reacted automatically, quickly scanning his radars. “Incoming, four left level,” he reported.

  “How much time do we have to buy you, Syke?” Lana asked.

  “How mu—? Hell, no! We all packing up now. Everyone to the right, on my mark. One, two, mark.”

  They turned, but Lana was not finished. “We need those results, Syke!”

  “Nobody sacrificing themselves today. No one a hero, remember?”

  There were only a few precious seconds left till the enemy was upon them. No time for hesitating. Don sighed inwardly. “Lana’s right, Syke. You gotta finish the scan and get it back. That has to be the priority.”

  “No! Get ready for contact. Stay close. Keep ‘em off your tail.”

  “Our lives or billions, Syke,” Eli said gently.

  Syke swore.

  “Go,” Lana urged. “Get out of here.”

  They heard a frustrated yell, and then, “Fine, but you better catch up.”

  “Okay, boys, on me.” Lana’s Cobra flipped.

  They followed without question and watched as Syke sped away. Then they were surrounded. “Drunken Fly, now!” Lana ordered.

  Don pressed his stick forward, dropping his Cobra down. Lana would fly left, and Eli up. They would split up, providing the enemy with many targets instead of one. It was drastically different from what Syke had ordered. He chanced a look at the others. They were spinning across the radar. Don watched Lana’s dot speed through a red cluster. Two split off, following her. The others kept going straight.

  “They’re flying Class I’s!” Lana informed them.

  Don’s spirits lifted a little. They might actually stand a chance. He watched her confuse the two bandits following her as three fell in right behind him. He cursed quietly. Shaking all three would be nigh impossible. He had only one plan, and it was incredibly dangerous.

  Don killed his engine, held his breath, and waited. The Zarweans blew past him. Don felt a moment of relief as all three somehow managed to avoid crashing into him. That was what he’d been hoping for. The scales were turned.

  “All right, boys, let’s fly!” He positioned himself behind the middle bandit. He had to be quick; he couldn’t think about it. Don targeted the fighter in front of him. An explosion lit up his HUD. He grinned.

  His other targets split as the first spiraled away, smoking. Don followed the one to the right. If these had been a different class of fighter, he wouldn’t have been able to keep up. He aimed carefully and fired just as they pulled out of the turn. He was rewarded with another flash upon his HUD and the slight shock wave that told him he’d been successful.

  “Preacher! What are you doing?” Lana brought his attention back down to the radars. A split-second glance was all he needed. Eli was flying straight for two Zarwean fighters, with another on his tail. He watched as Lana broke off, chasing her remaining target.

  “Preacher, break left.”

  “No,” he growled back. “Mind your target!”

  “Break off now!” Lana dove, scattering the waiting Zarweans just before Eli passed through them. “Now shake that turd and keep your head on straight.”

  “Enemy missiles detected,” his APRIL warned. Don reacted instantly, dropping two countermeasures as he opened the thrusters to full. The third bandit had locked on to him. He dove quickly. The missiles followed.

  “Heat-seekers,” he warned the others and then rolled right. After a few seconds passed, he jerked his stick hard to the left, and his vision blurred as he pulled out of the roll. They were still on his tail. He couldn’t afford any more maneuvers like that; he’d lose too much ground. His mind was racing.

  He jerked left as a bandit appeared in front of him. “I need some help!” he called over the radio. “Seekers on my six. Blind to bandit.” He straightened out. The missiles were still behind him and closing in. “APRIL, locate all enemy craft,” Don ordered and rolled to the side once more. Adrenaline rushed through him as the distance closed.

  “On my way,” someone — Don didn’t know who — answered. He dropped another countermeasure and broke down.

  Suddenly he was thrown to the right. His HUD fizzed out completely. Don shouted in shock. He had only seconds before he was dead. His HUD began to flicker, showing glimpses of stars streaking, as he spun out of control. He tried to control the spin, but his arms were floating above his head. He grabbed the stick and worked to right himself, with minimal response.

  Don’s hearing came back in a rush. He hadn’t even noticed it was gone. Dimly he registered that Lana was shouting at Eli. “Lana,” he interrupted, “I need some cover.” Who was he kidding? They all needed cover.

  Iridescent bolts flew past the cockpit. His fighter shook as the majority found their mark. He glanced down at the radar, dread pooling in his stomach as the red dot eased away, but the APRIL’s warnings continued.

  “Oh, shit! Lana!” he shouted and slammed his hand down on the yellow stick beside him, twisting it quickly to the right.

  The cockpit door shot off. After a slight hesitation, his body slammed back against the seat, and he was jettisoned away. The explosion came a second later. He could feel the heat of the flames licking around him, and then something slammed into his chest.

  Don coughed and struggled to open his eyes. His ribs throbbed. He moved his arms and banged his elbow almost immediately. Don blinked rapidly. He needed to see, or he was liable to tear his suit on what was left of his Cobra.

  “He’s awake.”

  He frowned. What?
Shapes were beginning to form, but they weren’t shapes that made any sense. There were flashing lights, switches, and a helmet.

  The helmet moved. He was looking at Lana. His eyes flitted about, taking in his surroundings, before coming back to rest on her. They were in her fighter. He was floating in the space above the seat. Don twisted to face her and groaned as his ribs protested.

  “You okay?”

  He just shook his head. “What kind of question… is that?” A deep stab of pain shot down his entire right side. “I got hit in the chest by something… Other than that, I don’t know.”

  Lana nodded. They both knew there was nothing she could do for him, not in this confined space. Knowing that, he also knew there was only so much he could, or would, tell.

  “You just hang tight, okay?” she reassured him. “We’ve caught up with Syke, so he’s with us now, and we should get back soon. When we do, we’ll get you all patched up.”

  “Eli?”

  She hesitated, and then said, “He’s a little worse for the wear.”

  Don nodded and felt her give his hand a comforting squeeze. He didn’t ask what soon meant. He was sure she’d been vague on purpose. Don closed his eyes and tried to direct his thoughts anywhere besides his aching ribs.

  “What happened?” he asked as Lana buckled back in. Now that she wasn’t looking, he pressed a hand lightly to his side.

  “Don’t really know. One moment, we were in it above our heads, and then another, they were backing off. Maybe they decided to cut their losses; we took out a whole flight, damaged the others. Syke thinks they left to alert their command that we’re on to them.”

  “We stepped in it big this time―” he said, stopping abruptly. Talking was not helping. “Sorry,” he apologized quietly.

  “It’s fine, Don. No worries. Don’t overdo it, and we’ll get you back in one piece.”

  “Right,” he gasped out and pressed harder against his side. It was getting worse. He had no way to tell how much time passed, but he knew it wasn’t nearly what he thought it should be, so he refrained from asking.

  The more he tried to ignore his injuries, the less he could, but he stayed quiet. He couldn’t let the others know how badly he was hurt. Sweat formed on his forehead as time passed and then slowly drifted from his face. He watched it float around inside his helmet, clumping together and separating again in an endless dance. Finally, Don closed his eyes, unable to keep them open any longer.