by L. E. Thomas
“May I speak freely, Admiral?”
“Of course.”
Rampa stared at him. “I need more Star Runners, sir.”
The admiral exhaled. “You will get them.”
PART ONE
Illusions
CHAPTER ONE
The aqua-blue water around Seaside pulled away as the shuttle ascended into the clouds. A collection of beach craft bobbed in the distance, collecting together like bubbles on the surface. The thick cloud cover broke, revealing a blanket of pure white so bright he squinted. The shuttle increased its angle of ascent, gravity pressing down against the passengers. The vessel rocked, and Lieutenant Austin Stone’s forehead pressed against the glass as he watched Oma disappear beneath the shuttle.
It had been the first place he and Ryker were truly alone together. He snorted. It had also been the last place …
Shaking his head, he pushed all feelings of Ryker to the back of his mind. She died to save him and allowed the completion of his mission. Of course, it was a mission he had been told never to speak about with anyone. That was all right with him. He’d rather forget it and leave his past on the surface of Oma.
Taking one last look at the clouds, he closed his eyes. Goodbye, Ryker. I love you.
“Sleeping already?”
Austin opened his eyes and turned to his fellow passenger. David “Bear” Keller grinned his familiar and goofy smile, shoving Austin’s elbow off the armrest between them. While he had the short haircut required of all Legion personnel, his obnoxious Hawaiian shirt screamed tourist. Austin glanced at the black shirt covered in dancing hula girls.
“Where did you get that?” Austin asked.
Bear gestured to his shirt. “Like it? My parents brought it back from Hawaii when I was in high school. It’s one of the only personal shirts I have with me from home.”
As Bear smiled at his shirt, Austin grumbled an affirmative. He understood the feeling. Objects from Earth were beginning to take on a special meaning. He looked at his plain blue T-shirt and worn jeans. Staring at the jeans, he had a memory of wearing this pair when he worked at the fruit stand after Dad died. They were the only jeans he had brought with him the night he packed to leave the Tizona Academy.
He looked up and glanced around the shuttle’s cabin. Skylar sat on the opposite row across the aisle, her attention on a tablet in her lap. She, too, had dressed in civilian clothes. She wore a red T-shirt with jeans, her blonde hair tied behind her head. The look reminded Austin of all the times they had studied together at the Tizona Academy. The events that the three of them had been through since leaving the Academy had left him with an odd feeling of comfort when seeing civilian attire. For some reason he couldn’t place, it felt like home.
The rest of the cabin filled with passengers of all types, but none wore the gray of the Legion Navy or any of the squadron colors. It had been strange to receive his orders to travel by a commercial flight. Considering the fact Austin was legally “dead,” Major Ty Braddock had given the orders in person, providing the temporary papers to allow him to travel under the name of “Jon Smith.” Since he was joining a covert squadron, Austin would only be required to use his false papers while in public areas. In Legion military locations, his new squadron would be treated with the same secrecy and reverence as the legendary Serpents.
Masters of deception, he thought.
Braddock provided the ticket and, following a shower and a quick meal overlooking the water canals through Seaside, Austin and the others had left for their new assignment. The assignment, in fact, was what kept Austin’s brain spinning.
“Bear?”
“Hmm?” he asked, his eyes focused on his tablet.
“Sky told me about our new assignment,” Austin whispered, slouching down into his seat. “What have you heard?”
Bear ducked his head. With his size, this maneuver did little to hide his massive frame. “I know the three of us are the only Star Runners from our squadron to go.”
“Why?”
Bear shrugged. “I have no idea.” He leaned over. “I didn’t get a chance to tell you before, but I’m glad you’re not dead.”
Austin snorted. “I’m happy you’re not dead, man.”
“No,” Bear said, placing his hand on Austin’s shoulder, “I’m not good at this kind of stuff. It’s just, uh, you’re a good friend.”
He saw Bear’s eyes lingering on the seat behind Austin. “You going soft on me?”
“Nah.” Bear waved his hand in front of his face. He leaned back in his seat and took a deep breath. “We don’t know how long we’ve got, you know? I mean, we go out and go on this mission and that mission. It can’t go on forever. Sometime we’ll have a bad day or some stinkin’ pirate on the Fringe will get lucky, and we’ll forget to check our six and—boom! It’ll be all over, and I think we should take the time to let our friends know we appreciate them. That’s all.”
Austin frowned, his thoughts returning to Ryker. He blinked several times, her face flashing in his mind each time his eyes closed. Nodding, he turned back to the window. The sky had gone black. A moment later, he felt the twinge in his stomach as the shuttle’s artificial gravity replaced that of Oma’s. He slid his hand over his face.
“I agree, man,” Austin said, his voice cracking. He cleared his throat. “How’s Curly taking your new assignment?”
Bear’s face reddened at the mention of his girlfriend. “Oh, she understands. You know, it’s part of our job.” He frowned. “I still didn’t like telling her what my assignment would be or, well, what I’m supposed to say it’ll be.”
“Right.”
While Austin’s new job had proven easier given his unique legal status with the Legion Navy, Bear and Skylar had received vague orders about joining a science vessel bound for the farthest reaches of known space. Their file would be updated so any enemies seeking information about their whereabouts would see they had been assigned to remote escort duty along the Fringe. The truth would be a bit more interesting.
Skylar had told him of the rumor about the Legion forming an elite fighter squadron known as the “Scorpions.” Braddock confirmed it but said little else other than mentioning that the Legion hadn’t created a new squadron in generations. Austin had started to wonder how much the Wraith had indeed changed things in the universe. It seemed the ripple effect of his mission was still moving across Legion and Zahlian space.
The shuttle’s engine faded, then stopped. The familiar whine of the curvature drive whistled throughout the cabin. The interior lights dimmed and the space outside his viewport shimmered.
Austin pulled out his travel ticket and stared at the destination. “You ever heard of this place?”
Bear glanced at the card. “Divokost Junction?” He shook his head. “Not a thing. You’re the expert on espionage now. Surprised you don’t know.”
Austin shrugged, ignoring the jab. “I think I remember seeing it at the edge of a map on Legion Space. Kind of like the end of the line. I believe it was the farthest station in our territory—even farther than Earth.”
“Must be out there, then.”
“Yeah.”
Bear stared at the ceiling for a moment, lost in thought. “I couldn’t believe that was you back there.”
Austin blinked. “What do you mean?”
“When we curved in to … that place.” He glanced over his shoulder as if he held the greatest secret in the galaxy. “I never seen such a fight … even back in the days when this was just a game. Corvos and Tridents launched everything … crashing into the enemy. And then, right in the middle of it all, there you were.” He smiled. “You got some serious balls, dude.”
Austin laughed, leaning his head back and losing himself in the moment. It had been so long … he couldn’t remember the last time he laughed.
“I have to tell you,” he said, wiping his mouth. “I didn’t really know what I was getting myself into.” He shook his head, the smile vanishing as he thought of Tia and Va
l. “I … really didn’t.”
Still smiling, Bear jabbed a finger in Austin’s shoulder. “You’ll have to tell me about that sometime, man.”
After pausing for a moment, Austin locked eyes with him. “No, I don’t.”
Divokost Junction looked like the location where all spare parts in the Legion ended up for recycling. As they debarked the shuttle and strolled out onto the hangar, Austin stared at the oil-stained deck and the various pieces of machinery strewn in front of them. Most of the rooms along the dirty corridor had no lights while the others had their hatches closed. The smell of fuel and rotten eggs filled the hall for some reason. Austin figured he’d rather not know. White towers of gasses shot up from the deck in a few places as they walked away from their terminal.
“Not like Tarton’s Junction,” Skylar said, lifting her leg high over a collection of metal cylinders. “Are we sure there hasn’t been some mistake?”
Austin shook his head, watching as the other passengers from the shuttle moved toward a connecting freighter he had seen docked to the station on their arrival. He glanced down at his ticket again and adjusted the satchel hanging over his shoulder. “Our orders have us arriving here.”
“Maybe we’re supposed to wait?” Bear asked.
Austin looked at him. “I find it amazing sometimes that you can fly a fighter.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
He smiled, holding a hand up to disarm the comment. He didn’t mean for it to come out as an insult. “You’re right. Let’s find a place to wait.”
“How about there?” Skylar asked, pointing toward the only bright room in the corridor. “Maybe we could find some information?”
“Good a place as any,” Austin said and smiled. “Let’s let Jon Smith buy you a drink.”
Yellow light glowed from three rectangles embedded into the grimy ceiling of the room. A man holding a filthy brown towel stood behind the bar washing a glass. He didn’t even look up as they stepped through the doorway. Discarded cans and paper trash littered the floor, which was covered in what Austin hoped was water, but thought it might be urine.
“Wanna sit?” Austin asked.
“No.” Skylar shook her head. “We’d be better off waiting in the corridor.”
“Come on,” he said, gesturing to the man behind the bar. “I’m sure there’s some great food waiting back there.”
“Not hungry.”
“Drink, then.”
“I’ll pass.”
Bear laughed and strolled over to a table. “I’ll have a drink.”
The man behind the bar glanced up at this comment, and Austin saw his bloodshot eyes for the first time. He had a white beard like sandpaper covering his round face. Using his identification card or, rather, Jon Smith’s card, Austin bought three drinks.
“Worked here long?” Austin asked.
“The hell you care,” the man grumbled, passing over bubbling green drinks in what looked like mason jars.
“Any other shuttles coming through here today?”
“I don’t pay attention to any of that stuff. I get paid to serve drinks, and that’s what I do.” He turned around. “If you could scram, I got things to do.”
Austin took the emerald drinks over to the table. Bear leaned back in his seat, studying his bubbling beverage. Skylar, on the other hand, sat at the edge of her seat with her back rigid as if the chair would swallow her whole.
Smiling, Austin sat at the table and took a drink. The liquid burned his tongue like battery acid but tasted better on his second sip. They sat in silence for a long time, listening to the hissing gasses from the corridor’s deck.
After the two men had downed three of the stiff drinks, Austin stared out the bar’s lone viewport and saw the stars spinning.
“Amazing, isn’t it?”
“What’s that?” Skylar asked.
“The vastness of it all.”
Bear took a long drink and coughed. “Vastness? Of space?”
“Yeah, I guess.” Austin leaned on his elbows. “You ever think about it? Remember when we first got to the Tizona Academy? I thought I had come so far and figured I had seen so much of the world. Then, we get zipped to California, Atlantis, and Tarton’s Junction.” He shook his head and nodded toward the viewport. “Now look at us, at a station so far out it’s like the Legion forgot to maintain the thing.”
Bear glanced at Skylar. “He’s already drunk.”
“No,” Austin said, staring into the murky green liquid. “Not drunk at all. Just pondering, I guess.”
“That’s what the heavy stuff’ll do to you.” Bear raised his glass and drained it. His face contorted and blushed. Slamming his fist on the table, he coughed. “That is some serious stuff.”
Skylar waved her hand toward Bear. “I know what you’re saying. I do. I’ve been trying not to dwell on the future and the past. I’m trying to focus on my duty at the moment. That’s what—um, that’s what I’ve been taught.”
Austin looked at her. “By Ryker?”
Skylar closed her eyes, her head dropping toward the table. “Yes. She taught me a lot while you were gone. A lot … about everything.”
“I miss her, too.” Austin reached across the table and placed his hand over hers. “More and more every minute.”
Bear slapped his hand on the table again. “I’m going to hit the head before you guys start crying. Been enough to complain about the past few weeks without searching for it.” He stood up and shifted his balance. “Whoa … be back in a bit. Stuff’s a bit stronger than I thought.”
“That’s tolerance, man,” Austin said. “You haven’t had a drink since I’ve known you.”
“What about you?”
“I hide it well.”
Bear nodded. “Be right back.”
Austin shook his head and glanced down at his third jar still three-quarters full. He looked at Skylar, saw her staring back at him.
“Everything okay?” he asked.
She tilted her head and released a grin. Her eyes lost focus as she gazed at the table for a moment, her thoughts elsewhere. “I’m glad you’re okay.”
“Me, too.”
“I can only imagine what you went through or what you’ve seen.” She looked at him. “If you ever need to talk about it, I’m here. I’m always here.”
He squeezed her hand. “I know, Sky.” He pulled his hand away and took another drink. “When was the last time the three of us sat quietly like this?”
She shook her head. “I have no idea. Tarton’s Junction, maybe. I don’t know.”
“We’ll take the time to do this more often.” He glanced out in the corridor. “How long do you think we’ll have to wait here until we get some orders?”
“No idea.” She shrugged. “I don’t think there’s anything normal about our new assignment. We’ll find out soon enough.”
“What’s that?”
Austin rubbed his eyes and raised his head from the cold bulkhead in the corridor of Divokost Junction. The emerald drinks from the bartender of “Stink Station,” as Bear had called it, provided a dull headache.
“Right there,” Skylar said and repeated, “what is that?”
Peering through the viewport, Austin watched as blinking position lights bore down on the station. The distance was too far to identify the shape of the vessel, but he squinted all the same. He glanced over at Bear, who was sprawled out on the floor like he was ready to spend the night.
“Hey, man,” he said, kicking at Bear’s leg, “check this out.”
Bear pressed his fingers to his eyeballs and rubbed. “Why don’t you just give me a report, huh?”
Austin smiled. They had finished their final drink and wandered out into the corridor, dodging a robotic floor buffer as it moved across the deck. For the past hour or more—he hadn’t bothered to check the time—they lingered in the corridor staring at the darkest space he had seen since joining the Legion. The buzz from the drinks morphed into a lingering headache, and
Austin now wished he had followed Skylar’s lead and not had anything. He had considered getting something to eat from “Stink Station’s” bar, but he didn’t know what kind of meat would exist on such a remote station … or what kind of state the meat would be in when it finally arrived out here, in the middle of nowhere.
“Transport of some kind maybe?” Skylar asked, pressing against the viewport.
Austin shook his head. “Looks like a Karda from here.” He shrugged. “No matter what, it’s the first traffic we’ve seen through Divokost Junction since we arrived.”
She buried her teeth into her bottom lip and rapped her fingers on the wall. “This is a Legion station, right?”
He blinked. “Yes. Why?”
“I just, well, I never considered we’d have such a, uh, well, I never thought we’d let a station fall into such disrepair.”
“Huh.”
He remembered Ryan Bean on board his first trip home to Earth. Before his tragic death, Bean seemed to believe the Galactic Legion wasn’t all it was cracked up to be when they gave you the sales pitch to sign papers for your first tour. Austin had long since committed to his service with the Legion, but he knew there was still a lot he had to learn about his employers. Legion Space, as he was beginning to realize more and more, was an incredibly large place. Perhaps there were numerous rural areas of the Legion that had fallen by the wayside.
A stray memory clicked. Mom and Dad had taken him on a road trip to Florida when he was in middle school long before Dad got sick. They had decided to drive backroads because Dad liked to eat at old restaurants off the beaten path. He grew tired of the Interstate Oasis where every few miles you could get the same fast food meal. Some of the towns where they stopped seemed forgotten by time, full of abandoned motels and huge, dark signs like “Steven’s” no longer lit up at night. Places people once constructed with care and love, now forgotten.
