by Greg Dragon
“It makes me angry, to be honest, but I don’t know what to say about it. I don’t know. Maybe my first move will be to find a bar that serves cheap drinks. I’ll flirt with a fighter jock who is too far gone to get attached and make it weird. Then maybe I’ll wake up next to that stranger and realize that my nightmare is truly over. I do know that I don’t plan to serve on that infiltrator, or the Aqnaqak. Maybe I’ll go back home to Meluvia, and help my father with his business.”
“Whatever you choose, you earned it,” Helga said. She couldn’t help but admire Ina’s spirit. She seemed so strong now that everything was evening out, and it was obvious that the Alliance had lost an asset. “I don’t know what I’ll do, but I’m too angry to become a civilian. I want to find out who sent us here, and why, and I want to make them feel everything I felt in that Geralos prison.”
A tone from the console broke her train of thought, and she looked at Ina’s boots to see if she had accidentally triggered something. “The Inginus is hailing us,” Ina said, as she kicked her feet up and off the console. She seemed to know communications, and proved this by patching it through. She then turned around to Cilas to see what he wanted to do.
“It’s okay, Ensign Reysor,” he said as he straightened his spacesuit, then stood at attention. Ina connected the ship’s communications, and the hologram of an older Alliance commander appeared in the center of the bridge.
23
The conversation between Lieutenant Cilas Mec and the Inginus went on for a short time before Cilas switched it to his comms so that he could speak privately. By that time, Helga had heard enough to know why they had come.
The Inginus had been sent to Louine space in order to rescue the Nighthawks. But they had no intention of bringing aboard what they called refugees, even though these people were Alliance military. Hearing this commander take such a hard stance made Helga consider staying with Ina Reysor.
Ina took it well, as if she had expected it, but Helga wondered if this was just a façade. She had come so close to being rescued, and the Inginus had the means to get her back to the Aqnaqak. Was it enough that the pirates were dead? Helga couldn’t believe that Retzo Sho would agree with what the commander was demanding.
After what seemed like an hour of discussion, Cilas called a meeting on the bridge. Everyone took the chairs around the perimeter, and he stood in the center near the captain’s console. “I’m sure most of you heard that,” he said, meeting their gazes. “The Inginus only intends to take the Nighthawks. We were given no choice. Either we come, or they will take us, aggressively. Most of you have served, so you know it’s not a bluff.”
“Are we seriously going to leave these people behind?” Brise said, and Helga was surprised that he managed to keep himself composed.
“Yes and no,” Cilas said as he walked around the chair. “I reminded them of the oath they took when they became officers in this Alliance. No spacer left behind. What they are demanding violates that oath. I also told them that as Special Operations they have little say over my crew, and if I chose to remain on this ship, aggression would be seen as an act of treason.”
“Wow, Lieutenant, you said that to the commander? I really don’t know what to say,” Helga said.
“I know you all think that I’m some sort of Alliance robot,” he said. “I’m a spacer first, yes, but I have a heart, and everyone here risked their lives to liberate this ship. Do you honestly think that gets lost on me? Just because another man issues a threat? I have a ship here, with an FTL drive, and they don’t want me jumping back to speak directly to our captain.”
Helga had to smile at the thought of Cilas Mec playing the part of the headstrong lieutenant. It was out of character, but pleasantly surprising, and raised him higher in terms of her admiration. “So what was their compromise?” she said, knowing that there had to be something or he would still be on the call.
“We’re going to dock on the Inginus as soon as the lizards are done, and they will repair this ship and make her jump-ready. Everyone will be fed and given appropriate accommodations. Those who want to contact their ship will be given the opportunity. Once the ship is ready, it will be yours to captain, Ina. Whatever you choose to do with it is entirely up to you and your crew.
“Is everyone okay with this?” Ina said to the former captives. “I never asked to be your captain, but I will accept it if everyone’s onboard.”
Each of the men and women gave their blessing, and Noli Dawn reminded her that without her they’d still be slaves. They were in agreement that the Inginus was a place that they didn’t want to be, since their commander had originally intended to leave them stranded.
Helga leaned over towards Ina and whispered in her ear. “Captain Ina Reysor sounds really good to me.” She didn’t realize that her whisper was still heard, and Cilas cleared his throat to snap her back to attention. “Sorry,” she said, forcing a smile and looking around, embarrassed.
“I am dressed the part,” Ina said, laughing, and the rest of her would-be crew laughed as well. “I don’t know what to say, but I will do right by everyone. I will get us out of this system and back to our families,” she said. “Many of you have told me that you want to get back to the fight, and it will be my first priority to reunite you with your ships. For those who are done with the war and people like this Inginus commander, this is a large ship, and I will need a crew. Anyway, Lieutenant, sorry – I didn’t mean to interrupt,” she said.
“It’s your ship, Captain,” Cilas said. “In all seriousness, Ina Reysor, these men and women are lucky to have you.”
He then looked at Helga and Brise directly, and she could see his shoulders dip, as if he was about to deliver some bad news. “For us, the uncertainty of our future will continue,” he said. “First we have to wait out this battle, and stay clear of the warheads fired from that Geralos destroyer. Next we will have to dock, and at that point, I assume we will be interviewed by Commander Lang. When it comes to that part, Sol, let me do the talking,” he said, staring at the young engineer until he nodded in agreement.
“I can tell you that while they jumped all the way out here to find us, they are not exactly happy to be here. Expect a hostile commander and an even more hostile crew, but keep in mind that we’ll be amongst the brothers and sisters of the Alliance military. We’ll be expected to serve if the time for combat arises. Sol, you and I will be with the Marines, and Ate, you will be with the pilots.”
“Will they separate us, or will we live with one another?” Brise said, his face a mask of stoic resignation.
“We will probably be together, but separate during operations. Even if we aren’t, I’ll be available. You’re my team, and that will never change,” Cilas said.
Helga turned around and stared through the window at the battle being waged between the two ships. She didn’t know how to feel about this rescue. Shouldn’t their return be a positive thing?
“Lieutenant,” she shouted, gesturing towards the ship, and Cilas ran over to see for himself. The last remaining Geralos ship had just jumped away, and the Inginus was alone, victorious.
“Are we able to dock this thing?” he said, and Helga got up and rushed over to the pilot’s chair.
“We should have enough power to dock,” she said, doing the math in her head. “It’s going to be tight though … Ina what do you think?”
Ina walked over and stood behind Helga’s chair. She reached over her shoulder and swept her hand across the HUD. A display of gauges replaced the radar, and she gestured to enlarge one of them. “This is more than enough,” she said to Helga, who looked in awe at her mastery of the interface.
Strapping herself in, Helga grabbed the controls and applied a bit of thrust to see how responsive it was. “Please find the closest station to strap yourself in,” she said over her comms. Her voice echoed over the intercom, and she didn’t like how it sounded. I have the voice of a frightened child, she mused. I am going to have to work on that.
When she
felt how the ship moved, she put more power in the thrusters and aimed the fore towards the massive Inginus. It felt like an eternity since she’d last flown anything, and though they’d been in space the entire time, it could not compare to the way she felt now.
It wasn’t a feeling of relief, or excitement for getting rescued after so many days. Helga wanted to be excited, but she couldn’t, not after Cilas’s speech. Their return would be a somber one, mostly due to the things that they had been through. Not to mention she was lonely; the type of loneliness one feels when you can’t be open with anyone.
During the long months of being secluded with the two men, she’d come to realize just how lonely she was. Loneliness could be masked with work and war, two things that awaited her on the giant infiltrator. Piloting was one of the most difficult jobs, and she took it more seriously than most. And due to its difficulty it always sufficed to keep the loneliness at bay.
The thrusters came to life and they began to heat up, so Helga found the link to the Inginus and sent a signal requesting communication. The air crackled and the link activated, and then a stern human voice came over the comms. “This is Ensign Elan Nix of the Inginus. Trade ship, what is the intent of this call?” he said.
“This is Helga Ate, a Nighthawk of the Rendron. We have spoken to your commander, who gave us permission to dock. We have injured and deceased onboard, and seek entry to your hangar.”
There was a very long break and Helga glanced over at Cilas expectedly. The lieutenant was strapped in out of reach, but he merely shrugged when their eyes met. “Patience, Ate. They’re just running their scans,” he said. “Making sure that we don’t have Geralos onboard trying to gain access to the ship.”
“Permission has been granted, Nighthawk Ate,” the voice on the comms said. “Welcome home, we are happy to see you. Please use aft bay 15-45.”
Helga took the ship in steadily, which was a lengthy ordeal. The thrusters could only push them so fast, and she had to navigate to the aft of the Inginus. The infiltrator was so big that it was a looming endless wall, but Helga took her time and found the hangar bay.
There was something surreal about docking now, after everything that they’d gone through. She wanted to rub her eyes to see if she was dreaming, but feared that she actually was. Maybe they had died a few weeks back, and this was the illusion of a torturous afterlife. A part of her expected to dock the ship, only to find that it was overrun with lizards.
When the bay doors opened the shields rippled a bit before a hole materialized to grant them entry. Helga shook off her thoughts, steadied the ship, and slowed down their thrust. She brought them to a stop, and then waited patiently for the Inginus computer to take over her controls.
After ten minutes of waiting, they were pulled in slowly, and then a small transport ship appeared. It flew up to the same doors which had granted Brise entry. Then a bridge was extended to attach itself to their ship.
“Attention everyone, we have a transport ship waiting at the aft bay doors,” Helga said. “Please make your way to the dock, and keep in mind that it may be some time before you can return. If you have anything personal, bring it with you, but do so fast since we’re on limited time.”
It was the standard exit protocol, and Helga hadn’t given much thought to the fact that these were slaves without any possessions. Some brought weapons that they had lifted from the bodies of the pirates, but most merely walked to the bridge and stepped into the transport ship empty-handed.
The ship was shaped like a rectangular box and comprised of nothing but seats around the perimeter. It had one purpose, which was to bring people on and off the Inginus. The seats were an eggshell color, soft, clean, and comfortable, and all around it were tall bay windows allowing them to see out in space.
Once they were all seated onboard, Helga found the controls and withdrew the bridge. She gave one final glance at the old pirate ship and then approved the return to the Inginus. They glided slowly into a bright hangar bay and landed in an empty area away from the fighters.
Upon touchdown, everyone jumped up and quickly filed off the vessel. But it took Helga a long time to find the courage to follow them out.
When she finally emerged, she was quite surprised. There were a host of men in hazard suits standing below the ramp. They rushed her and the others into a large decontamination room. There they had to strip out of their clothes and stand facing the bulkhead while gripping an iron bar.
Helga thought about the equipment that had been lost on the mission: Eight PAS suits, the Britz SPZ, and one Louine multi-featured escape ship. This still paled to the loss of her comrades, those veterans she had looked up to. You could replace equipment, but life was different. There was no replacing years of combat experience.
A cold mist came from the vents, which reminded her of the Geralos prison, and she closed her eyes unconsciously, expecting it to put her to sleep. But it was over just as quickly as it had started, and then the doors opened up to several men and women dressed like masters-at-arms.
One handed her a bundle of clothes and pointed to a corner, where she saw Ina pulling on some coveralls. Helga joined her and dressed quickly, not liking the fact that she was naked around all these men. When she was fully dressed, she looked up, only to see Ina and the former captives being escorted out.
“Excuse me, but where are you taking them?” she said, worried that she had freed their chains only to lead them to new ones.
“The Commander wants an audience with the Nighthawks only,” said one of the men, as he nodded to the others to continue leading the captives out. As Ina fell in, she gave Helga a smile. It was the reassuring kind that said, “We will be okay.”
“So they go from a pirate’s prison to an Alliance one,” Brise said. “I wonder what their supposed crime is.” His face had the look of someone who was beyond his limit, so Helga remained silent to respect Cilas’s wishes.
It wasn’t long before the door slid open and Commander Tyrell Lang walked in. Next to him were a number of officers, but they hung back as he approached. The three survivors stood in unison and saluted him with respect. Helga was still mulling over Brise’s words, and she began to worry for their future.
“First of all, let me say that the fact that you’re here is a testament to your bravery,” he said. “We sent you out to help people compromised by the lizards. Yet here you are, the ones being rescued. How does an elite team wind up on a Louine ship?”
Cilas, who Helga reasoned had the patience of a saint, ignored the offensive question to relay the information to him mechanically. He left out the details about his injury and more importantly, Lamia Brafa’s corruption. It was shocking to see him not be forthcoming with the commander, and when she glanced over at Brise, she saw that he was smiling.
Outside of the capture and rescue on Dyn, Cilas got creative with the rest. He spun a tale about a pirate rescue, which ended in a mutiny that got most of the crew killed. As he told his lie, Helga remembered that they had left the captain unconscious in a cell on the ship. His wickedness had been absolute, but to die in pain, hungry … it seemed too much. But Cilas knew what he was doing—at least she hoped—so she bit her tongue and listened.
Tyrell seemed satisfied with what he was told; they had been ambushed, then kidnapped upon entry. Nowhere in the details did Cilas mention the dredge, the thopter that they’d commandeered, or the truth of how Cage had died. He spun the story to make it seem that the mission was doomed upon entry. They had flown in hot, crash landed on the moon, and became prisoners to the Geralos until the pirates showed up.
“And the others?” Tyrell said, jabbing a finger at the door that Ina and company had been escorted through.
“Fellow captives that were there before us,” Cilas said. “They freed us from our cells, and we did our thing to take over the ship. Our plans before you showed up, Commander, was to jump back to Alliance space.”
“What a mess,” Tyrell said, as he scanned their faces. “I’m esp
ecially impressed with you, young lady. How the hell are you not bitten?”
Helga realized that the commander was addressing her directly, but her tongue felt thick and it took some time for her to answer. “I don’t know why, sir. They had plenty of chances to bite me,” she said.
“Casanian blood is extremely toxic to the Geralos,” he said, running a finger through her hair. This violation was to reveal her spots, but Helga knew that his touch meant more.
“They found this out when they invaded the planet a year after taking Vestalia,” he continued. “You probably confused them, but they dared not try you. Count your blessings, shrak cy. Your racial background saved your life.”
Helga felt sick to her stomach; first from his touch, then his use of one of the older Casanian dialects. “Shrak cy,” meant “pretty girl,” and it annoyed her that he was addressing her this way. She felt her cheeks get hot as she struggled with her anger, and she wondered if Brise and Cilas had noticed.
“Now, you all are probably ready for a proper meal, and we have just that waiting for you in the chow hall,” he said. But Helga stared at the floor, angry and embarrassed, too unsure to look up at him.
“Thank you, Commander,” Cilas said. He saluted again, and the older man returned it. Helga forced herself to follow suit, and was quite relieved when he and his officers exited the compartment. As they followed them through another door, Helga touched Cilas’s arm to get his attention.
“What in the worlds was that?” she whispered, looking up at his face. She hadn’t seen him so angry since the time when he was beating the captain to death.
“What, Ate, did I leave something out?” he said, giving her a hard look that forced her to remove her hand.
“No, I think you managed to cover all of it, Lieutenant,” she said, realizing that this wasn’t the time or place.
