by Greg Dragon
Young Cilas remembered how his father would go missing for days, only to return with new wounds and knuckles bruised and swollen. He was a proud man despite his disease, and his gambling cost them everything. It eventually cost him his life to get his son to the Rendron, when the top gangster began to eye the boy for recruitment.
Sitting up now on his cot, Cilas thought about the look in his mother’s eyes that fateful day he boarded the transport ship. It wasn’t a look of sorrow, regret, or failure; it was a look of triumph. That look stayed with him. It was the last time he would see her, and though much of his youth was forgotten or recessed, he could still remember her eyes.
A light above the door came to life and a vid screen appeared a few meters in front of him. It showed a shot of the chow hall and Marines having supper, before Joy Valance’s face appeared in front of it.
“You there?” she said, and he touched his wrist comms, granting her access to his compartment’s cameras.
“I’m here,” he said.
“Just confirming that you did watch the vid I sent to your quarters,” Joy said.
“Your joust with the lizards?” he said. “No need, I saw it when it happened. You know that the entire ship is on watch when you all are out there fighting. Are you calling just to gloat?”
“No. I’m wondering if you saw your girl in action.”
“Ate? Of course. She was the star of the show,” he said, smiling. “Pretty hard to miss a Vestalian Classic among all those Phantom fighters.”
“Good call on the ship, love, but I’m thinking about keeping her here with us. I could use another ace, and she’s wasting her time on the Rendron,” she said. “Don’t be upset with me. I know that you two are close, but if you saw her in action, then you have to admit I am right,” she said.
Cilas stood up and stretched, not caring that he was fully nude. He walked over to his locker and fumbled for a fresh set of clothes. “I’m glad she impressed you, Joy, but she’s still a Nighthawk. You can borrow her while we’re here, but when we jump, she will have work to do. I’m not downplaying the importance of your Revenants, but her skills go way beyond shooting down lizard ships.”
“We’ll see about that, I think she enjoyed flying with us,” she said, and from her tone, Cilas knew there was more to what she was telling him. Helga and Joy had become drinking buddies, and he wondered what the Nighthawk had told her.
“You’re a planet-buster … recon,” she was saying. “With you, all she’ll ever fly is a dropship. Don’t be selfish, let me have her. The girl should have been born with wings. You would have her crawling through mud and playing infantry with the rest of you frogs. She’s a bird, Cilas, don’t clip her wings. Do I need to come over there to convince you?”
“Now you’re just playing dirty,” Cilas said, though he wouldn’t mind her coming over despite the fact that his mind was set. He thought about it for a minute, and though he agreed with what Joy was saying, he couldn’t imagine facing Retzo Sho as the last survivor of the Nighthawks.
He needed Helga, at least for now, until he was back on the Rendron and able to rebuild. “After we get back to the Rendron,” he said flatly as he walked over to the sink. “Once we’ve been interviewed and given the all-clear, Helga is free to decide where she wants to be.”
“Thank you,” Joy Valance said, exhaling as if it had taken a lot for her to ask. “I’m all worked up looking at you walk around like that. There’s something to say about your body, despite those ugly scars. What are you about to do?”
“I have another date with Ate at the range,” he said.
“Is that a no to me coming over?”
“Of course not. Get over here. We have less than half an hour,” he said, turning on the water to let it pool into his palms. The vid powered down and he found himself excited. It would happen just about any time he heard her voice. From the first time he met her—a day after they were rescued—he’d had an unhealthy obsession with Joy Valance.
It wasn’t that she looked any different from the other well-conditioned military women, but she set his blood to boiling, and there was only one way to tame it. Love at first sight? No, it wasn’t love, more like something physically magnetic. They had left the hangar together—she the driver, he the willing vehicle—and went straight to her compartment to have sex.
As Cilas washed his face thoroughly and slipped into a robe, his mind went back to Helga’s reaction when she’d learned that the Vestalian Classic was his idea. She had come to his compartment in a drunken rage and told him in so many words that she didn’t need his help. She had been more honest than she normally was, and he had seen something in her eyes.
He knew the look, but it wasn’t one that he wanted to confirm. She was young, and they had been through the worst conditions together … of course there were feelings, but he had Joy, and Helga was a member of his team. The image of her drunk and flipping out caused him to laugh. “Go get some sleep, Ate,” he had said, and that had somehow calmed her down.
She had hovered in his doorway, her eyes begging to be invited in, but he had fought his urges, and though he regretted it, he was happy that she’d taken the hint. This struggle with his feelings was more complicated than anything he’d ever felt.
Even thinking about her now—the way she’d looked when she’d confronted him—made him want to do right by her. He knew that playing with Helga’s heart would destroy what was left of her soul. But he was only human, and he had read what was in those eyes.
The door’s chime snapped him to attention and he stepped off the padded mat and onto the cold metal deck to see who it was. A part of him worried that it would be Helga again. She had popped up before unannounced, and could do so now to catch him undressed and vulnerable.
When he saw that it was Joy, he exhaled with relief, and cracked the door wide enough for her to slip inside. She came to him then, hot and ready—the way she always did—grabbing him by the throat before the door was fully sealed.
She pressed her lips to his and backed him into the table, her breath hot and sweet from what he recognized as liquor. She was always rough like this, but it was what she liked and he could take it. He fell back into a chair and she was on him like a spider.
Long limbs and muscles rippling comprised the picture they made. He didn’t know when she’d lost her pants, but she was on him before he could react. United, she loosened her grip and hugged him even closer, nails in the back of his neck and hips bucking in rhythmic thrusts.
It was all Cilas could do to hold on as his aggressive partner rocked his world. He wanted her to slow down, but she was strong and it felt amazing, so he closed his eyes and enjoyed the ride until her legs tensed and she froze, groaning.
Seeing an opening in her grip, he stood up and carried her over to the cot. There he lay between her legs and put her arms above her head. He interlocked his fingers with hers and she surrendered to his control. The aggression had passed, and she was his sweet Joy again. He took it slowly, enjoying every bit of her until it was too much to stand and he finished.
“Wow,” he whispered as he rolled to the side. He lay on his back looking up at the overhang. “What was that about?”
“I’m sorry, did I break skin this time?” she said.
“Well your nails got longer,” he said, laughing, “But the choking … that was new.”
“You have a big bull neck. I just wanted to feel it,” she said, standing up and making her way over to the sink. He took a good look at her then, all long brown legs and confidence. Even the way she flicked hair off her shoulder seemed to be practiced with precision.
“Were you a cadet on the Rendron, Joy?” he said, still watching her as she went about her business.
“We’re swapping histories now? I must have been really good,” she said, giggling. It annoyed him that she was never serious, and he really wanted to know. Yes, she had blown his mind, along with giving him some minor injuries, but if she was his girl—and she was his girl—s
houldn’t he know a bit about her life?
“I was raised on a hub, somewhere over Vestalia. I got brought into the academy later than what they accepted,” he said. “But Retzo Sho took a liking to me. He made them take a chance on me, this teenage hoodlum from the bottom. That was a hard time back then, but I’d like to think that I made him proud.”
“Cilas, there is nothing about you that hints at an easy childhood,” Joy said over the running water. “You’re scary good and hard, but only to those outside of your heart. I would be an idiot if I didn’t notice that about you. Look, love, I know what you’re doing, and it makes sense, but … you don’t want me for that. Trust me. I’m a thyping mess that will just end up disappointing you.”
“So this is enough for you? All physical, and nothing else?” he said, sitting up.
“I’d be full of schtill if I said that it was all physical,” she said. “I just want you to be sure, that’s all.”
Cilas didn’t know what to say. What could he say to something like that? It was more than physical but not so intimate that they needed to know each other’s lives? “Are you scared, Joy? Is that what this is?” he said, and she stopped pulling on her boots to face him.
“I wouldn’t call it scared,” she said. “I just know what I am, and I know that I like you, and I don’t want to thype this up.”
He thought about her words, and wondered why it was that she would be so guarded about her life. It made him instantly suspicious, and somewhat tired. It felt as if everyone had lost their minds after he and the Nighthawks were rescued from Dyn.
Had the lizards frozen them and pushed them into another reality? A reality where a man can sleep with a woman, anytime, but he dared not ask her about her childhood. “It’s okay, Joy,” he said. “We can keep this purely physical. You don’t need to worry about me asking again.”
“That sounds awfully harsh. Let me try again to explain what I mean,” Joy said.
“Nah, save it, I’m running late, and I need to get to the range in five minutes,” he said. “We’ll talk later if you want, but if you don’t mind, I need to get going.”
Joy Valance walked to the door, then stopped and turned around to face him. “You’re upset. I don’t want to leave you upset,” she said, and then placed her back to the door.
“I’m a Boomer; my mothership was the Sairon. As you know it was destroyed over Geral, and the debris of it and my parents still orbit the planet today.” She smiled when she said this, and he could see the pain in this mask she presented. It made him feel guilty for pressing her, now that he understood. “I was a cadet there but got transferred to the Rendron after graduation. Had a talent for flying, so they stationed me on this infiltrator. Met some good people … and bad. Let’s just say I got a really quick education. And then I became the lizard-killing machine that’s in front of you.”
“I’m sorry,” Cilas said. “If I’d known, I would have let you tell me on your own time.”
“How could you know? Cilas, I just want you to understand that I am not here to use you, but you’re a guest on my ship, love. What do you think will happen once we’re back in Alliance space? Wait, no, let me tell you what will happen. You will leave this ship, and me, with a ton of promises, and then I’ll be one of those pathetic girls sitting around hurt and wondering if you’re still alive.”
“So, you’re worried that I’ll get myself killed?” he said.
“No, not worried, just aware that what we have is going to be temporary. But we don’t have to be jerks about it, or act like machines because we’re afraid of our feelings. We both need this, Cilas, and I know that you’re big enough to accept it for what it really is. Aren’t you?”
He nodded, though he didn’t agree with her. They could make a relationship work, even across ships. He would have to convince her, but he would never push again. Her sad story had struck him in a way that made him feel low.
“Will I see you later?” he said as he approached her.
“Of course,” she said, and hugged him. He held her for a long time, until he felt the tension leave from her shoulders. “Thank you,” she whispered into his ear, and then she opened the door and was gone.
28
It was the smell that led to the complaint, which led to the panic, which led to the discovery. And this discovery was a new one for Retzo Sho. As he walked through the officer’s quarters, past the doors of the privileged few that answered only to him, he saw a crowd gathered in front of Adan Viles’ compartment.
His heart did a curtsy—this could not be good. The last thing he needed on the way to a battle was panic within his crew. When they saw him approaching, they cleared a path, some slinking away in the opposite direction. They knew they would be scolded for leaving their posts, but whatever was there made them risk it. This made Retzo even more concerned as he walked towards the door.
Covered noses and downcast eyes were the masks on all their faces, and when he finally reached the doorway, the smell punched him in the nose. Grabbing a handkerchief from his pocket, he covered his mouth and stepped inside. There, in the corner, and surrounded by the masters-at-arms, was his long lost CAG, Adan Viles, hanging from his neck.
He had taken a length of cable and thrown it up over the grill on his vent. He then fashioned a noose, donned it, and kicked the chair out from under him. It had been years since the Rendron had a suicide, but it had never been one of his officers. Here was Viles, technically royalty on his ship, and a committed family man, dead in his compartment.
Retzo couldn’t understand the motive. Was it the way I spoke to him? he thought. He couldn’t kick the guilt he felt for playing a part in this.
“It’s not safe to be here, Captain Sho. We need to secure and clean the compartment, sir,” one of the MA’s said, and he recognized him as Misa Chase, the Rendron’s chief master-at-arms. It seemed like ages since he’d last seen the man, but he was still the same intimidating presence. Bigger than most, with a hawk nose and sharp eyes that seemed to pierce your very soul.
Misa stood at attention in front of him, refusing to move despite his station. “Alright,” Retzo said. “But leave it to your people. You’re coming with me. I have a lot of questions and I need quick answers. Do you understand?”
“Yes sir,” the man said, and followed the captain out of the compartment.
“You all have jobs to do and this ship is on the way to a warzone,” Retzo said to the people still gathered in the passageway. “I caution you all to keep this to yourselves. Anyone found spreading rumors will be dealt with. Do you understand? Adan Viles was an officer who served his post well. I will not have his name in the dirt because of misinformation. Move out!”
They scattered like roaches when he stamped his foot, and he was left with the master-at-arms. He walked a ways down the passageway before turning to face the man, his hands in his pockets and his chin held high.
“Why didn’t you block off that compartment to keep the people out?” he said.
“When we received the call, Captain, they were all there by the time we arrived. You came a little after we did, and I had just made the call for reinforcements. Did the Commander say anything recently about wanting to take his life, sir? Anything you can tell me will speed things up in terms of finding a motive.”
“No, Sergeant, he didn’t. I had a stiff conversation with him a few days back. Nothing out of the order, really. We’ve had stiff discussions before. He seemed to have it together, do you know what I mean? He was the sharpest of all of us, and he was the same way when last we spoke. No, this has to be something else, something… sinister.”
“Sinister, Captain?” he said, pulling out his tablet to take notes.
“Well, think about it, Sergeant. We’re on our way to a fight, a time when I’ll need my CAG more than anything else. This is literally the worst thing that could happen to us. It forces me to replace him with someone that might not be ready. That stiff conversation I mentioned was due to Viles withholding inform
ation from me. He was up to something regarding the Nighthawks, and that is what I need to learn.”
“Anything we find, you will be the first to know, Captain Sho,” the big man said, and Retzo released him back to his duties. What he’d seen in that compartment had sent shockwaves through his body. Adan Viles, dead, when he had assumed he’d snuck off with the Inginus.
Why would Viles take his own life? he thought. Could someone else had done this? Someone that feared that he would talk? Every sign had pointed back to Viles as the cause of the Nighthawks’ disaster on Dyn. Now that he was dead, he could search his compartment, look through his personal device, and more.
He dared not speculate any farther. He was at full light speed racing towards Meluvia. The last thing he needed was a ship in panic over their dead CAG. The people needed him to be a captain now, not an armchair detective looking for a villain. Maybe this was the plan, to take him off the trail. He couldn’t go into battle like this.
“Who knows,” he grumbled, angry and annoyed. It’s time to get smart and get ahead of this thing. He touched his wrist and brought it up to his mouth, talking as he continued to walk. “Genevieve,” he said. “We have a situation. Get the captain of the Aqnaqak on my comms.”
“I think I’ve figured out what’s wrong with me,” Helga said as she aimed down the sights of a laser-powered auto rifle. Two Geralos ran across her path and she shot them both, shattering their holograms.
“Nice shot,” Cilas said. “But what do you mean, you’ve figured it out? Trauma is trauma, and you refuse to go to sickbay, so naturally your moods are going to be all over the place.”
There he goes again, thinking he has all the answers, Helga thought. “Nope. It’s this ship. I need to be back in action, not sitting around waiting for Joy Valance to call on me. On the Rendron we had routines, drills, and actual jobs. Here, outside of our runs, and this, I’m bored out of my mind.”
