In Death's Shadow

by S. F. Edwards

  “Did I just see that, Arion?” Chris asked.

  Arion nodded. “You mean Blazer and Marda, naked, together, yes.” Shut up man, that was private.

  Gavit shook his head and commented. “I guess I owe Deniv.”

  Chris looked over at him with a questioning gaze. Gavit noticed and explained. “We had a bet.”

  Chris punched him in the arm.

  “What was that for?”

  “Because Deniv’s not here.”

  “Yeah, well,” Gavit replied, and to Arion’s amazement, he almost looked sheepish.

  “No, you don’t understand,” Arion said, turning to face them. “She’s wearing the Vaughnt family ring.”

  Bichard perked up and smiled his hideous smile. Gavit and Chris nodded, but Zithe and Rudjick only shrugged. For Anulians, the passing of a family relic or heirloom was common upon marriage. Amongst the Scibean nations gifts of jewelry always were the tradition, but Zithe and Rudjick were from the Duwn Valley where land or animals were the preferred gift.

  “Does that mean they’re married now?” Bichard asked, his antennae buzzing.

  Can’t be, we still haven’t completed our first full annura. What else could it be, a promise, insurance from Blazer that they will? Arion felt his stomach twist at the thought, then he looked back at the wall and realized that it felt right. She’s not Lazith, and Blazer is not the man he was back then. They’ve grown and been through a lot together. This could work.

  Everyone but Zithe cheered, though keeping the revelry to a minimum. Zithe just shook his head. “They can’t get married until after they complete their first annura at the academy,” he growled.

  Arion nodded. “That’s right, Blazer’s just made the promise that they will.”

  Zithe shook his head again. “It’s a foolish thing to do. They don’t even know if they’ll both make it to graduation.”

  Rudjick elbowed Zithe. “Come on, big guy, we need to celebrate this. Live for the cycle.”

  As if on cue, Porc rushed past them, a stein the size of his head in his hand. He didn’t stop until he reached the lift, then spun about to face them. “Come on, you guys. Mendrick has drinks on the house for the whole first annura class for the next hect, celebrating some damn fools getting engaged.”

  The team looked back at the room, then to Zithe.

  “Well, Zithe, as one of our two possible leaders, I put it in your capable hands,” Arion announced. “Do we go to Mendrick’s and celebrate our friends pending union, or do we return to our rooms?” he asked, crossing his arms.

  “Hold the lift, Porc, we’re coming,” Zithe announced, and the Blade Force joined the celebration.

  UCSB DATE: 1001.034

  Star System: Classified, UCSBA-13, Drill Field 2

  Blazer couldn’t help but smile as he headed to the drill field with the rest of his team. It didn’t even dampen his spirits that Chertsin and Saldray had made it through the initial round of Special Operations training. In fact, the surprise that Chertsin had challenged Blazer to a game of Slamball proved a welcome one. It would give the Blade Force a chance to see what their three newest members were made of. Blazer followed behind Marda, staring at her rear as she spoke with Chris, memories of how they’d spent the last few cycles forcing him to alter his walk for a moment.

  She even knows how I take my vitcaff. Sheol, Arion doesn’t know that, and we’ve been friends forever. It’ll be a shame to go back to class.

  Marda looked back at Blazer. He turned away blushing, and Chris laughed.

  Off to the side of the group, Blazer caught sight of Zithe and Gokhead in animated conversation. He headed towards them, the decision on who would lead the team was still unmade, and that would have to change this cycle. It would be difficult enough to integrate their three new members, but an unclear chain of command would lead to even more trouble than it already had.

  Zithe, his shoulders tensed, stopped in his tracks ahead of Blazer, pulling Gokhead to a halt. “Just how deep did you weave yourself into the system to find that out?”

  Gokhead looked taken aback and fixed Zithe with a hard glare. “I leave no trace of my weaves. I pull every string and stream clear before I exit a system.”

  Zithe stared back at him. “Be sure of that. I won’t fail because you left a stray footprint somewhere you shouldn’t have been.”

  Blazer stepped up to the pair and cleared his throat, announcing his presence. “What’s going on?”

  Gokhead fumed and looked back at Blazer. “I was trying to figure out who the academy might assign to your team, see what holes they would want to fill. And like I was about to tell Zithe, I wasn’t going in anywhere that was classified or wasn’t open domain. I was merely checking the rosters of those that had made it through, noting the condition of their teams, and their specialties. For instance, I know that one of our skill gaps is for a sniper.”

  Blazer nodded. Makes sense. We’ve all qualified with small arms and assault weapons, but none of us has sniper training to my knowledge. That’s a huge gap in a squad this size.

  Gavit chuckled as he approached the three of them. “You know, I used to know a guy. He’s a few annura older, back home, before I moved to Anul. He was one heck of a shot, would have made a great sniper. He could take, and I’m not kidding here, a chemical slug thrower rifle and shoot a blood parasite off a running wolf’s ear from a full klick, and not even singe the fur.”

  Zithe scoffed at the idea and they continued walking, catching up to the rest of the team, the drill field empty except for Deniv as he waited in his old black referee uniform. Blazer smiled. Deniv was a skilled referee and would remain impartial in the match against Chertsin’s team. Though it pained Blazer to not have Deniv on his team anymore, at least he had decided to stay in the academy.

  “No, I’m serious, he was that good,” Gavit went on. “He loved skiing too, back on Ferelias that was a big thing. The planet the post orbited was covered in snow and ice.”

  Zithe gave him a questioning look. “I thought you were from Scibe.”

  “I wasn’t born there. I was born on Ferelias Post. I only moved back to Old Anul when I was ten annura old.”

  Chris looked at him. “No wonder, you never struck me as your typical Old Anul born Scibean.”

  Gavit shrugged. “I’ll take that as a compliment. So Gokhead, who else?”

  “Well, as good as we all are as pilots, Marda is the only one who has experience piloting larger craft, like dropships.”

  Marda nodded. “True. I think I’m the only one here with heavy shuttle time.”

  “Datt and Treb both did, though. They flew transport back on Zel-Tag, but they’re gone, so I’d say we’re looking for a pilot and WSO crew who specialize in transport flying.”

  Blazer liked the sound of that. The latest Phantom Phunny cartoon Datt had transmitted from home, and Gokhead posted to the academy intra-weave, had helped to settle some of the rumors going around about how they’d got out of the sims early. To his surprise, even Drill Sergenat Korto came to their aid on that front, shooting down all the conspiracy theories before they could propagate.

  Gavit was their most skilled pilot, but he was fighter jock through and through, not a transport driver. And Marda, while she was a skilled and versatile pilot, was also the team’s medic. They couldn’t have her stuck on a dropship while the rest were out in the field and might need her.

  Even Zithe seemed to like the idea. “So that’s the three then?” Zithe asked.

  “Were you able to get any names?” Chris asked.

  “That should be the three, yes, but no. I wasn’t able to get any names for certain, but I was able to prune the list down to a handful of Spec Ops cadet names for each slot.”

  Blazer considered that. He’d met, or at least seen, everyone in their academy class while maintaining the fighters of at least half of them the annura before. He remembered a few sniper candidates, but had no idea how they, or their teams, had fared the last couple of decles. He conside
red asking to see the list of names Gokhead had come up with, but spotted three men headed their way, led by an older man with sandy brown hair showing streaks of grey.

  Gavit caught the look, turned, and jumped towards the approaching men. “Matt, Matt Talkerna!”

  The man turned to look at Gavit, fatigue in his eyes. “Holy Shreg, did they seriously just assign me to the same team as you?” he asked as he rushed towards the man. The two of them met in a friendly embrace. “I can’t believe it. I mean, I heard you were at the academy, but I had no idea this was your team I’d been assigned to.”

  Blazer looked the man over. He was at least five annura older than the rest of them. If he had to guess, he was a senior non-com, and from the lines around his eyes, their sniper. “I take it you two know each other?”

  Gavit nodded like a kid. “Yeah, guys, this is that crazy-good shot I was telling you all about. Wow, I had no idea. I never thought you would ever leave Ferelias.”

  Matt scoffed. “Come on, everyone knew, even as kids, that I was going to join Confed and be a sniper. I was in the reserves back on Ferelias, took the top slot in sniper school, and was even sent on three separate behind the lines assignments.”

  “But what are you doing here?”

  “Well, when you save a general in a counter sniping operation, they tend to get grateful. He said it was a waste of my talent keeping me on Ferelias Post.”

  “Wow, small universe, huh?”

  Matt shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t think so. I haven’t seen anyone else from Ferelias anywhere else I’ve been. It’s just random chance, I think.”

  Gavit looked down and noted a tattoo on the back of Matt’s hand. On the colonies where resources were scarce, and marriage oftentimes was a matter of survival, tattoos were common to show engagements. The tattoos were identical between the engaged couple, and were completed as part of the marriage ceremony. He grabbed it and held it up, a questioning look in his eyes.

  “Yeah, I’m engaged. I’ll fill you in later,” Matt said, pulling his hand away.

  “But…”

  “I said, I’ll fill you in later.” He motioned to the other new recruits. One of them, with flame-red hair, looked like he was about to fall over as he seemed to sleep standing there. “I ought to introduce these two, first.”

  “No, it’s okay, it feels good to be on our real feet again,” the darker-haired, more alert one commented. His red-haired friend gave a weary thumbs-up.

  Blazer motioned them to speak, Zithe remaining quiet for some reason.

  “Okay then, allow me,” the dark-haired man offered. “I’m Mikle Tager, dropship pilot extraordinaire,” he announced with a half bow and a wink at Chris.

  Chris shook her head in dismissal.

  Blazer took it for the usual boasting of many a pilot but stopped short when he spotted, on Mikle’s uniform, a set of full UCSB wings—not just the gold Taurus of spaceflight overlaid over the inverted silver Taurus of atmospheric flight, but also the azure ring of a hyperspace pilot circling the center where they crossed.

  “You’re a hyperspace pilot?” Chris asked in disbelief before Blazer could.

  “Oh, these,” he said fingering the adornment. “My parents were cargo pilots, flew, well still fly, one of those giant mega-freighters. I grew up flying that beast and graduated to apprentice hyperspace navigator before I enlisted.”

  A grunt from his red-haired companion interrupted him.

  “Sorry, I mean when we both joined up. See, old Seaver here and I were friends back then. His parents ran the supply depot we used on most of our trips.”

  “Just call me Acknit,” the sleepy-eyed man offered, looking up for a brief moment.

  “We used to ‘borrow’ the drop shuttles all the time and go joyriding down to the nearby planet. We considered going to warrant officer school, just so we could be pilots, but after the incident with that Geffer patrol, we were offered full commissions and jumped at the chance.”

  “You jumped,” Acknit corrected. “I just accepted, and here I am.”

  “No offense, guys, but how did you make it through the last two decles?” Zithe inquired focusing most of his question on Acknit.

  “Oh, don’t let our appearance fool you,” Mikle explained. “We’re as tough as anyone else in our old units. This guy here just likes to lull the enemy into a false sense of security, playing slow and dumb until he smacks the living Sheol out of them.”

  Acknit smiled, perking up for a moment to reveal his ‘fighting face.’ His sleepy eyes sprang open with a briefly shocking intensity before returning to a deceptively semi-comatose state.

  Blazer wasn’t sure what to make of these three. Matt looked like he had his head on straight, but he wasn’t sure about the other two. Looking around, he spotted Chertsin’s team approaching and turned to Zithe.

  Zithe saw them too and closed on Blazer. “It’s do or die time. We can’t both be the team leader.”

  Blazer swallowed hard. Zithe’s right, we’ve got too much on the line, not just this game, but the future of our team and careers. “You’re right,” he said, turning to the team. How do we decide? Seri was supposed to render the decision, but she had died four decles back without naming a successor.

  “Forgive the old guy who only just now joined the group,” Matt said, “but from what I’ve read about this team,” he pointed to Blazer and Zithe, “I know you have two strong leaders vying for command.”

  Blazer moved to say something, but Matt waved him down.

  “I know that one of you says he doesn’t want it, but let’s face it. We all know who got you out of the sim early.” He met the questioning gazes of the team and continued. “Yeah, it was all around last cycle. We also all know who led you down the tendril, pretty much intact too from the scuttlebutt. And, we know who has consistently led you to victory in combat exercises. Sometimes the person who wants to be the leader isn’t the one most cut out for it,” he went on nodding to Zithe. “Not to say that person can’t lead, but sometimes they have to go through a bit more growth.”

  Matt turned to address the rest of the team. “Seri did an excellent job leading this team, and grooming her potential replacements as squadron commander. But, the reins have already passed to the obvious choice. I think the name of this team should change to reflect that.” He looked over them all. “Blade Force fits, but you guys are also trailblazers.”

  The team looked at him and at Blazer in turn.

  “And that’s a good thing. You’ve shown that you don’t have to sacrifice your own in order to succeed. You were the first to come home from that exercise. I say you are, we are, the Blazer Force.”

  “No, you’re not naming the team after me!” Blazer protested, sure that this was wrong.

  “You’re right, we’re not,” Matt continued. “We’re all trailblazers here. We’re not Blazer’s Force or Blazer’s Commandos,” he said, looking at Chertsin for a second time. It had gotten around by now that Chertsin had left team members behind on the tendril run. “This is the Blazer Force, and just because we go by that nickname doesn’t mean that we’re naming ourselves after you.”

  “I agree,” Zithe asserted opposite Blazer. “I agree that I am not yet ready to lead. I will command a ship some cycle, but not this team, not yet. Blazer is the one to lead this team now. Those who agree, show by hands.”

  Everyone but Blazer raised their hand. Blazer couldn’t believe it. They had just elected him leader, and the team wanted to change their name to match.

  “Then it’s decided,” Zithe announced. “Gokhead, get that recorded before Blazer comes out of his stupor and decides to stop you,” he took Blazer’s hand. “Congratulations team leader Vaughnt, the Blazer Force are yours, do well by them.”

  Blazer looked up at Zithe and nodded. There would be no formal change of command here, but he knew he had to say something to cement the change. Therefore, with Zithe behind him, he addressed his team. It felt good, it felt right. He felt a bit like he’d been sh
oved in front of a launching rocket, but he had to respect the team’s choice.

  “I accept leadership of the Blade Force.”

  Matt and Zithe looked to say something but Blazer waved them down.

  “I will lead the Blade Force, not the Blazer Force. Seri was our first leader. She showed us the way, and she named this team. I intend to keep that name as a way to honor her and carry on in her name.”

  Marda gave him a nod and a smile.

  Matt made to protest, and Gavit too. “But like I said…”

  “Matt, you didn’t serve under Seri, so I understand where you’re coming from.” He motioned towards Chertsin’s team. “No matter how you say it, Blazer, or Blazer’s, it would still appear that we’re named after me. It would look like an ego trip on my part, and I won’t stand for it. In the names of the fallen, we carry on. In Seri’s name, we remain the Blade Force.”

  Gavit elbowed Matt and the man nodded, conceding defeat.

  “Gokhead make sure that register states that we are still Blade Force.”

  Gokhead shrugged and made the change on his macomm.

  “Zithe, I need you to be my second.”

  “I accept, of course, but some cycle you will call me sir, when I have my own ship to command,” he replied with a wry smile.

  “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

  Chertsin sauntered up before anyone could continue, Saldray in tow as always. His team waited on the other end of the field warming up. “So, I guess you’re the leader then, Vaughnt,” he began, condescension in his voice. “I’d say congratulations, but, you know…”

  Blazer fought back his own displeasure at the comment, the team’s body language screaming it for him. “My team and I stand ready, Chertsin,” he cast an eye at Chertsin’s team, better than half of them were new to Chertsin. “The majority of mine at least know my style. Are you sure you want to go into this with an untested team?”