by Calista Skye
Kira turned away. “I don’t want to be responsible for that. I won’t let you put yourself at risk because of me.”
“And yet,” he said. “By asking you to stay in Storm training, I’m doing the same. I know you’ll be amazing, Kira. But that doesn’t make it any less dangerous.”
“It’s a risk I’m willing to take,” she said.
Ja’al smiled. “You’ll stay, then.”
Kira laughed and inclined her head. “Oh, yes,” she said. “I’ll stay.”
***
After the longest, hottest shower she could manage under the rebellion’s strict water rationing, Kira sprawled out on her bunk. The moisture clung to her skin as it cooled, each evaporating drop teasing her enlivened senses.
She should have been content to lay there, fantasizing about her next meeting with Ja’al. But the reality of situation wouldn’t permit it. If she was going to be with him, she had to make sure she didn’t wash out of training. And that meant she’d need to shore up her skills.
As a mechanic, she’d spent endless hours tinkering with whatever she was working on, learning it backwards and forwards until she could make necessary adjustments in her sleep. The best way to master any new skill was immersion. And besides, she needed something to take her mind away from the intense heat of her unfulfilled desire.
Kira sat upright and fired up her terminal. She keyed in her access code and scrolled through the bank of training vids, searching for replays of famous battles. If she could study the tactics of the best pilots, she could internalize their moves. Learn their thought processes. It would give her something to practice.
Being in motion soothed her worry. There was a comfort in purposeful activity that took her mind away from the things she couldn’t control.
The display leapt to life in front of her, projecting a stream of data into the air above her bunk. With a careful swipe of her finger, she navigated through the archives until she found what she was looking for: Advanced Aerial Maneuvering and Open Space Battle Tactics.
She selected a lesson from the list, and laid back, getting as comfortable as she could on the mattress and preparing to take in the information.
But the video wouldn’t play. The light from the holodisplay blinked and flickered. The images in front of her blurred and distorted as the playback lurched and jumped.
So much for that idea. But the challenge of solving a technical problem would give her something to occupy her mind. Before digging into the system’s code, though, she should report the issue.
She pressed the comm button on the side of her terminal, pleasantly surprised to see a familiar face answer the call.
“Tyrus!” she said. “I didn’t know they had you working overnight.”
“It’s a glamorous life here in the tech world,” he said. “How’s Storm Squadron treating you?”
Kira listened for a hint of sadness in his voice, a sign a jealousy or bitterness that she’d abandoned him for greener pastures. To her relief, Tyrus seemed glad to talk to her. No surprise there. He had always been one of the crew’s most easygoing. Which was exactly why they got along so well.
“It’s good, Tyrus,” she said. “Tough.”
“Nothing you can’t handle, I’m sure. Your talents would have been wasted here with us.”
“You know that’s not true,” she said. “Besides, I don’t have anyone here to utterly massacre at Traps!”
He laughed. “You wouldn’t stand a chance against me, either. Not anymore. I’ve been practicing.”
“Thank the gods,” she said. “I beat you so bad last time I almost felt bad. Almost.”
“I miss you, Kira. But something tells me that’s not why you called.”
For a bittersweet moment, she wished she had made a different decision. She’d love to be down there laughing with the crew. But she’d chosen her path, and she’d see it through. She resolved to find some time to get back down there and pay a visit to her friend.
“Something’s wonky with the holovids,” she said. “I was trying to access our training videos, and nothing’s playing back the way it should.”
Tyrus raised his brow and grinned. “You called me for that? You should able to fix that yourself.”
“Well, sure,” she said. “If it were something on my end. But the judder on playback makes me think it’s a server issue.”
Tyrus keyed a few strokes into his terminal and brought up a diagnostic tool. A flurry of cryptic text scrolled through the air as he scanned the data.
“I haven’t seen this yet,” he said. “But it looks like you’re right. All the transmission speeds are slow right now. Nothing to worry about, I’m sure. The system’s just under a heavy load.”
Kira frowned. Something about it didn’t sit right with her. “It would take something pretty heavy to cause a full system slowdown,” she said.
“It’s been doing that a little more often lately. Nothing to worry about, I promise. We haven’t upgraded the infrastructure to keep up with growing demand of the all the new recruits. And Captain Adaar has been chewing up a huge chunk bandwidth in his negotiations with the Human Systems Alliance. All their communications are running under a new heavy-encryption protocol that’s taking up more than its share of system resources.”
“Even so, it seems a little strange that it would affect the system this much. I mean, that would make it hard for the captain to talk to the Alliance, right?”
“Everything from the CIC gets priority transmission. Just because things are slow for the rest of us doesn’t mean they’re having any issues.”
“So they’re in a conference now?”
Tyrus pulled his fingers wide, enlarging the bandwidth charts. “It doesn’t look like it. That’s odd.” He swiped a few times, studying the data in front of him, scrunching his smooth, gold-tinted face into a frown. “I guess the new encryption protocols are still running in the background. It takes a lot of horsepower to disguise our system.”
Kira sat back on her bed, resigned. So much for distracting herself from her fantasies about Ja’al. “So there’s nothing you can do then?”
“I don’t know why the encrypted channel is still open. They probably just didn’t shut everything down properly. And after I worked so hard to teach them the procedures. Guess I’ll have to remind them. Again.”
“Ah, the glorious life of a tech,” she said, realizing her mistake a moment too late. She didn’t want Tyrus to feel abandoned.
But the young Kamaran rebel only smiled. “I’m glad you stepped up, Kira,” he said. “You may be a great tech, but you have a sense of people that’s going to take you far. Good things are going to happen for you.”
She smiled and bit her lip. “Thanks, Tyrus. I’m doing my best out here. But Storm is out of my comfort zone.”
Tyrus nodded and looked at her knowingly. She got the sense he would have hugged her if he wasn’t just a glowing projection in the air in front of her. “Hang in there, Kira. I’m sure you’ll be crushing the leader board in no time.”
“I’m sorry, the what?”
“You know, the leader board. All the performance scores of Storm pilots are broadcast to the crew.”
“Oh, lovely,” she said. She felt the color drain from her face, and the sickening sensation she’d swallowed a bitter ball of Yordaskian black tar flooded her stomach.
“Maybe I could still come join the mechs, after all.”
Tyrus shook his head. “Nope. Sorry. I’ve got too much riding on you. You’re going to win me a giant pile of credits. So you’re not allowed to quit.”
“You never did have a sense of a losing bet,” she said.
“I believe in you, Kira.”
“You’re not mad?” she said. “I mean …”
“No way,” he said. “You’re exactly where you’re supposed to be. As long as you still stop by for Traps every once in a while.”
“Thanks, Tyrus.”
“And don’t worry about that bandwidth issue. I’m going to look into
it. I can’t believe someone was careless enough to leave that channel open. But we’ll get it sorted out. Thanks for the heads up,” he said.
“Glad to help.”
“And hey,” said Tyrus. “Take care of yourself out there. I hear the combat raids are pretty intense.”
Combat raids? She swallowed hard. As if she didn’t have enough to worry about. But then, no one ever said this would be easy. She lifted her head high and smiled wide. “I won’t let you down, Tyrus.”
Chapter 9
The orders flashed onto her holoscreen in the middle of the night. Meant to simulate the chaos and surprise of an actual battle situation, the cadets weren’t given any advance notice. If it weren’t for Tyrus tipping her off that the ground simulations were coming, Kira would have been wholly unprepared for the mission that followed. Even with the heads up, the suddenness of her call to action took her off guard.
With no time to collect themselves of gather the necessary supplies, the Storm cadets rushed to their shuttles and departed for the nearby forest world of Orvantis.
Kira gazed out the window of the cramped shuttle craft as the planet came into view. Sweeping white patches of cloud danced along the vivid green hue of the trees rushing past in a blur. Uncomfortably sandwiched between Reina and the wall, she was grateful that the flight was almost over. The shuttle crafts were designed for efficiency. The comfort of the passengers mattered little. They were soldiers. Focused on the mission ahead. They didn’t need to be coddled.
As they neared the planet, Ja’al explained the parameters of the mission. The training exercise simulated a raid on an enemy base. The cadets would have to fight their way through the enemy guards, infiltrate the compound, and secure control of the central comm terminal to complete the mission. The Rebel marines, playing opposite Storm Squadron, would do everything in their power to stop them.
When the shuttle finally touched ground, the cadets collected their weapons and gear. Worried that she might betray her feelings for him to the group, Kira avoided eye-contact with Ja’al when he handed her the pulse rifle. Still, she allowed her hands to linger on his arms when she took the weapon from him. Hearing the authority and unquestionable certainty in his voice as he gave the orders to his crew warmed her insides.
She couldn’t wait to get him alone again. Maybe when the raid was through, she’d find an excuse to draw him away from his duties for a few minutes. She smiled at the thought.
The cadets lined up at the edge of the forest, inspecting their gear as Ja’al explained the details of the operation.
“The object of this mission is simple,” he said. “Locate the enemy base, get inside, and assume control of the central terminal. Tap into their communication system and radio back to us.”
“This is a waste of time,” said Jomanak. “When are we ever going to be on the ground infiltrating an enemy base?”
A handful of cadets nodded and mumbled in agreement. He has a point, Kira thought.
“Even the best pilots get shot down,” said Ja’al, masking his irritation. “And when your ship is a pile of debris on an alien planet, you’ll need to know how to survive. How to contact the Rebellion to get you home. Or to get us critical intel on the enemy. You’re a pilot first and foremost, but we don’t have the numbers of the Imperial forces. Not yet, at least. And in the meantime, we need all of our recruits to be able to handle themselves in any situation.”
“Why not just teach us this stuff back at Dennegar?”
“This is a practical exercise in leadership and survival,” said Ja’al. “A critical part of any Storm Squadron pilot’s training is knowing how to improvise. How to make decisions under pressure. And how to lead a team to victory. The way you handle yourself during this mission will impact your leader board positions and the future of your career. You’d be smart to accept that, difficult as it may be for some of you.”
Jomanak cracked his knuckles and glanced around the camp. “I can survive. It’s not me I’m worried about.”
“Alright, survivor,” said Ja’al. “You can handle yourself, then. The rest of you can split off into teams of two. The mission begins at sundown.”
***
Kira burst through the outer door, crouching low as she charged into the darkness of the compound, and waved Reina in behind her. Without a map of the base, they’ve have to search for the central comm hub. None of these places had a predictable layout, so they needed to make their best guess about where to look. And hopefully avoid having to search through one room at a time.
Inside the base, a large central hallway led back through the building, while two smaller passages split off to each side. Kira took the lead, moving slowly through the darkness ahead. After the explosion she’d rigged to distract the guards, she guessed that the majority of the marines would be outside, trying to hunt down and eliminate the cadets before anyone made it inside.
But undoubtedly, no shortage of marines remained behind, and Kira didn’t want to draw their attention. The longer they remained undetected, the better their odds of winning this thing.
Wiping the sweat from her brow, Kira peered down each of the three hallways. The comm station could be anywhere. A dim light flickered ahead, seeping out from beneath a door at the end of the central corridor. Probably the security station, she thought. They’d have video feeds from most of the base, if not a map of the whole place. There would also be guards inside.
Glancing up, she saw the security camera on the ceiling. There was a fair chance they’d already been spotted. So much for the element of surprise.
As if reading her thoughts, the door burst open. Kira reacted instinctively, pulling Reina back around the corner and out of immediate view of the doorway. The heavy thud of boots echoed through the hallway, charging toward them.
Kira swallowed hard, her body tensing for action. She tightened her fingers around the pulse rifle. This was no time to hesitate. She nodded to Reina, signaling her plan to open fire around the corner.
With a deep breath, Kira crouched low and reached around the corner, firing a barrage of pulses down the hallway before retreating behind the corner.
A flash of crimson lit up the darkness along with a muffled thud as the man hit the floor—she’d hit him at least once.
The hallway fell silent as the pair moved in towards the fallen marine. His battle armor, frozen where Kira’s pulses hit him, kept the man pinned against the wall. “Sorry, friend,” she said as she bent down to his waist and retrieved the ID card from his belt. “Better luck next time.”
Reina took point, keeping the tip of her rifle trained down the hallway as she advanced, and Kira covered the rear. More marines could have heard the scuffle. They’d have to keep their guard up.
To Kira’s relief, the security station was empty. An array of terminals lined the walls, flat monitors showing feeds from throughout the small base with a large holodisplay in the center of the room.
“Score,” said Reina.
“We might actually win this thing.” They could also be ambushed at any moment. But a sense of hope surged through her. She needed the victory to help her climb the leaderboard. Maybe she wasn’t so out of her depth after all.
“Might? Watch this.” Reina keyed a few quick strokes into the terminal’s keypad. “This is going to be good.”
“What are you doing?”
Reina smiled. “Just buying us a little time.” She pressed the final key with an exaggerated clack. The screens lining the wall filled with static as the security cameras went offline one at a time.
“How did you —”
“Wait for it.”
The blaring screech of a klaxon wailed through the base as the lights faded to red.
“A little misdirection,” said Reina. “I triggered the alarms at the main entrance. Anyone left inside will look for us out there, and that should clear our path to the comm room.”
“That’s brilliant,” said Kira. “But we still have no idea where the comm room is.”<
br />
Reina raised an eyebrow. “Watch and learn.” She rolled her chair to the holodisplay in the center of the room and flipped through the menus with a series of subtle gestures. A moment later, an expansive three-dimensional map of the base appeared in front of them.
“Holy shit, Reina. You’re full of surprises.”
“You have no idea,” said Reina.
Kira studied the map, rotating the display until she’d located the comm room on the base’s third floor. “Looks simple enough,” she said, forming a mental map of the quickest path.
“Easy,” said Reina, gesturing again to reset the settings on the holodisplay, masking their breach.
The klaxon still howled through the air, making it difficult to hear outside the doorway, so Kira pushed back into the hall cautiously. The cover of the noise could work to their benefit, too, so long as they stayed alert.
Red light strobed from the wailing sirens, illuminating their passage as they made their way to the elevator at the end of the hall. Kira stopped in front of the massive steel door and stared at the keypad in front of her. She remembered the marine’s ID card. He probably had clearance to activate it.
As though reading her thoughts, Reina pulled the card from her pocket and leaned in towards the scanner.
“Wait,” said Kira. Sure, the ID card would probably activate the elevator, but they’d be corned when they reached the top. If there was anyone waiting up there, they’d be screwed. “I have a better idea,” she said. “Can you run?”
“Of course I can run. Why would—”
Kira pointed to the stairwell in the corner, illuminated by the flashes of red light from the siren.
“Oh,” said Reina.
“We should still send the elevator up,” she said. “As a distraction. And when the marines are focused on it, we’ll show up behind them.”
“You’re cunning, Thorne. I like it.”
Kira nodded and said, “I hope this works.” She gripped the pulse rifle in her hand, double-checking the cartridge. “Let’s roll.”
