by L. E. Thomas
“Anyway,” Wilkos said, “I’m well aware of the reports of the Fifty-Fourth Tizona attacking the local population. About a month back, we lost contact with the entire reduced squadron here for a little over a week. When they reported in again, we were told communications were down.” He sighed. “A gap in communication for something this far out is nothing unusual. It takes the curvature drive power of a capital ship just to make it out this far. But ever since the gap there has been a steady stream of complaints coming in from the locals about our Star Runners here. Frankly, they have been quite disturbing.”
“What do we do, sir?”
He snapped around and faced Austin. “We continue doing what we’re doing. We train to be the best squadron the galaxy has ever seen. And we keep our eyes open. If anything seems out of the ordinary around here, I want to know about it. There’s just something not right about this place, and I want to find out what it is.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
“Roger, Rock is number one for approach.”
Using the green HUD flashing in front of him, Austin lined up his Trident inside the approach pattern leading to their base at Gen’s Folly. The system’s star dipped below the horizon, casting an auburn hue on the sky in the distance. Blinking away fatigue, he lowered his head and focused on landing his bird. It had been a long day.
Following a two-hour briefing from Major Cayo Wilkos and a short follow-up from Captain Manami Senza, the Scorpions had proceeded to their new Tridents. Other than a quick glance from Skylar and Bear, Austin hadn’t been given a chance to talk to the other Star Runners about Wilkos’ orders to report anything out of the ordinary. They took off in pairs and met in low orbit of Omeya. After three hours of patrols and basic flight maneuvers, Austin had a good feel of the new Trident. The fighter was quicker and more nimble than the Tridents he had flown before, but was still a far cry from the magnificence of the Zahlian Wraith. He longed to be behind the stick of a craft so majestic. Perhaps the Legion would create something comparable in the future.
He gripped the stick with his right hand and powered down for his descent toward the base. During their morning briefing, another Scorpion—JT “Zipper” Cannon—had asked why they had to practice the tactical approach when the Trident could hover to the ground. Since the Trident would be vulnerable to ground fire when hovering, Wilkos said they wanted to grade the Star Runners on rapid descent and landing as a test of their abilities.
Austin didn’t mind. He enjoyed approaching a target like a decelerating missile, and he was the last of the Scorpions to land today.
Five hundred MUs to the base. Four hundred. Three-fifty. He adjusted his course to the left three degrees. Since Wilkos would be grading him, he wanted it to be perfect.
“Rock, Tower,” the gamma wave in his ear came to life, “break off your approach. We have traffic in the pattern.”
Austin blinked, his heart pounding. “Where?”
“Coming in from the east! Break! Break! Break!”
With no time to question the Tower, Austin banked left and pulled up. His Trident shot away from the approach pattern, the engine blasting in his cockpit. Pushing more power into his throttle to avoid a stall, Austin gained altitude and flew away from the air traffic. A cold sweat ran down his back as the reality of the situation came over him. He nearly had a midair collision.
“Better watch the skies around here, hot shot,” a voice sneered over the gamma wave.
On his sensors, Austin watched as four Tridents shot through the approach pattern. He clenched his teeth. It was the Fifty-Fourth Tizona Star Runners from Gen’s Folly.
“Rock, Hound,” Wilkos transmitted. “Report.”
Austin shook his head. “Hound, Rock. Copacetic here, Major.”
“Proceed to base,” he said, the unusual sound of frustration leaking into his voice. “Scrap your tactical approach for the day.”
“Copy, sir. On my way.” Austin took a deep breath, changing his course for the Scorpions’ hangar.
“What happened?” Austin asked, climbing down from his Trident’s ladder as the engines whined into their cool down. “I didn’t see those Tridents on my sensors.”
Major Wilkos stood at the front of the other Scorpions, his arms crossed over his chest. The surrounding Star Runners still in their black flight suits stared at Austin as he turned around, a mix of concern and anger pulsating on their faces.
“The tower didn’t even see the Tridents until they ascended directly into your approach pattern,” Wilkos said, shaking his head. “They were flying in too low to show up on anyone’s sensors until they nearly collided with you.”
Austin gripped his helmet as he exhaled through his nose. “What were they doing?”
Captain Manami Senza took a step forward and stood next to Wilkos. “They said they were conducting low altitude maneuvers, and there had been a mixup in providing their flight plans to the tower.”
“What do you mean a ‘mixup,’ Captain?” Austin asked.
Senza glanced at Wilkos. “They, ah, never sent the flight paths over to the tower.”
Austin’s eyes widened. “So they didn’t know the other squadron on Omeya was flying maneuvers today?”
“No.”
“I could’ve been killed.” Austin stared at the hangar deck in disbelief.
A moment later, a ripple rolled through the Scorpions as they burst into angry chatter. Through all the talking, Austin heard some of the statements.
“They’re going to get us all killed out there,” Hazel “Topper” Treuchel said.
“It is really amateur hour out here,” Madhu “Sparrow” Jube said.
“Maybe we should have ourselves a little accident and shoot down one of their patrols,” Dimas Sorn said, his eyes locked on Austin.
“All right—that’s enough!” Wilkos yelled, his voice echoing through the hangar. “Remember yourselves! You are the best squadron in the Legion—act like it!”
“Permission to speak, Major?” Sorn asked.
“No!” Wilkos spun toward Senza. “Get these Star Runners back to their lockers. Clear the schedule tomorrow. We need a day off.” He turned back to the Scorpions. “Today was an unfortunate accident. Rock here acted appropriately, and there was no harm done. Cool your heels for the next thirty-six hours. We’ll get back to work the following day. Dismissed!”
“This one’s on me,” the bartender said, filling bubbling red liquid into a glass and sliding it toward Austin.
Remembering their last exchange, Austin nodded and gently placed his fingers around the cold drink. In the dim light of the only establishment in Gen’s Folly, he watched as the ruby-red bubbles sparkled and danced around his glass. “Thank you. I have to ask: Why the change in attitude?”
The bartender shrugged. “Colm’s my older brother.”
Austin blinked. “Colm?”
“Yeah.” He pointed toward a circular table at the back of the room. Under a smoky haze, Austin saw the man who the Tizona Star Runners had attacked the other night. “Just wanted to thank you. Name’s Tom.”
“I’m Rock.” Austin took a sip of the drink, allowing the thick syrup to roll around his mouth for a moment. He had never tasted a drink like it—an exotic mix of cherry syrup and club soda. “You don’t have to thank me. Things like that shouldn’t happen.”
“Well, you have my thanks anyway.” He nodded toward the drink. “Whattaya think?”
He smiled. “It’s unique.”
“Yeah? Totally made it up myself. We brew a bunch of it here. It’s made from a local plant. Pretty popular with the miners.”
A local plant? Oh boy. “It’s great, man.”
“How about a round for your friends?”
Austin turned toward the Scorpions lining the bar. With the entire schedule cleared tomorrow, every member of the squadron had come out to the only place they could get some R and R. He smiled as all eyes turned toward him.
“I think a round is a great idea,” he said.
The Scorpions pounded the bar and cheered. Tom moved down the line, a spring in his step as he poured the ruby drink into their glasses. Soon, the Scorpions laughed and talked as the bar grew louder. Bear and Skylar sat next to him, their attention on a grand tale Hazel Treuchel was telling about a previous mission. Her new boyfriend—or at least Austin thought they seemed close—was Diego “Sunshine” Marcos, who looked as if Hazel was telling the most amazing story in the universe.
On the other hand, Austin didn’t feel like listening, his mind on other times and other places. After a few minutes, he moved away from the bar to a circular table. He settled into a wooden chair, stirring his drink around in the glass as he gazed at the table covered in stains from a hundred previous glasses. Scratches crisscrossed the wood, and he wondered what tales this table held on the outskirts of the Legion.
Sorn cast a shadow over him. “Mind if I sit?”
Austin looked up and tilted his glass to the seat across from him. “Not at all, man.”
“Got a little tired of listening to Sweetie Pie chat with Sugar Boo over there.”
Austin laughed. “So Topper and Sunshine are an item, eh?”
“You couldn’t tell?” Sorn asked with a shake of the head. He sat his full glass on the table and leaned back, the chair creaking at the movement. He looked around the room with a wide grin as the music started from the box. A steel guitar and a female opera singer blasted from the old speakers.
Austin shook his head and laughed.
“You don’t like the music?” Sorn asked.
Austin took a sip and shook his head. “This is not something I would listen to.”
“They don’t have music where you’re from?”
He pointed toward the speakers with his glass. “Like this? No, not really.”
“Oh.”
They sat in silence as the song ended. As another similar, louder song began, Austin sighed and shook his head.
“The squadron’s pretty mad about what happened to you today,” Sorn said.
Austin frowned, staring down at his nearly empty glass. “We should just forget it. Might have been an accident.”
“I don’t know.” He shook his head. “Heard you guys roughed up a couple of their own earlier this week.”
He locked eyes with Sorn. “They had it coming.”
“I’m sure they did.” He leaned over the table. “Take it from someone who’s been in the game a bit longer than you, Rock. Squadrons take that kind of stuff personally.”
“I can handle myself.”
“I know you can, but that’s why I’m telling you we’ve got your back.” He leaned back. “The major knows what he’s doing. I’ll give him that.”
Austin tilted his head. “How do you mean?”
“When he first got us and had us running till we puked, I thought the man was crazy, and I started wondering if I’d made a big mistake.”
“And now?”
Sorn clicked his tongue and took another sip. “All of a sudden we’ve become a squadron. I know we are supposed to be the best and all that crap, but I’ve never seen a group gel as we have. The exercises went so smoothly today. We keep getting better, keep pushing each other. I know I’ve become a better Star Runner since we started.”
Allowing his eyes to drift back toward the bar, Austin watched the other Scorpions as they laughed and exchanged stories. Sorn was right; the squadron had grown together over the last year. Austin had served as a Scorpion longer than he had been on Tarton’s Junction, a fact he had trouble believing. He remembered Ryan Bean during Austin’s return trip to Earth and how the veteran Star Runner made serving with the Legion sound like a job. At the time, Austin wondered if he would ever feel that way about being a Star Runner. Now, it had just become a daily part of his life.
For the first time in days, Ryker’s face flashed in front of his eyes. He swallowed, thinking of how much she would have enjoyed the camaraderie of the squadron named after her.
“What’s going on with you two?” Sorn asked, interrupting Austin’s thoughts.
“Who?”
He looked back at the bar. “You and Cheetah?”
Austin followed his gaze, saw Skylar laughing so hard her face had turned the color of a tomato and tears streamed down her face. “She’s one of my best friends.”
“Friend?” Sorn shook his head. “That’s got to be tough.”
“Tough?” Austin blinked. “How?”
“Don’t think I’m built to withstand ‘friendships’ with beauties like that.”
Austin felt a twinge in his stomach. “We’ve been friends since flight school. We’re from the same world.”
“Ah.” He gestured toward Skylar with his glass. “Mind if I ask her to dance, then?”
“Of course not.”
“Sure?”
Austin nodded. “Go for it.”
Sorn drained his glass and stood, straightening the black off-duty fatigues Wilkos required all the Scorpions to wear. He walked across the bar as the music picked up, rattling the glass behind the bartender. Austin wondered if the place had seen this much action in a long time.
Skylar looked at Sorn. Austin couldn’t hear, but he watched Sorn talking to Skylar for a moment. Suddenly, she glanced toward Austin. He looked away, feeling stupid for watching the scene from a distance. What did he care if Skylar danced with Sorn? He was part of the Scorpions. Although he and Austin had started off on the wrong foot, Sorn seemed to be a good man and a loyal comrade. So why did Austin’s stomach suddenly feel like it was rumbling through an atmospheric corkscrew in his Trident?
When he looked back, Skylar and Sorn were dancing in front of the speakers. Some of the other Scorpions joined in, filling the floor and leaving the bar empty except for Bear, who sat with his goofy grin as he watched the squadron dancing.
Austin finished his drink and stood. The effects of the drink caused the room to spin for a heartbeat before it normalized. He moved toward the bar and sat next to Bear.
“Hi!” Bear yelled as if he’d just realized Austin had arrived.
“Hey, man.” Austin nodded toward the dance floor. “Not dancing?”
“No!” Bear yelled, his voice rising above the music and the clamor of the full bar. “I have a girlfriend, remember?”
Austin thought of the petite Brylee “Curly” Robin still on the Formidable. “Of course.”
“What about you?”
He took a deep breath. “She’s not here.”
The grin vanished from Bear’s face. He made a fist, lifted it into the air, and dropped it on Austin’s shoulder twice. “I know, man. I know.”
Austin’s throat constricted as Tom refilled his glass. He stared down into the bubbles, fighting back the flood of memories.
“Hasn’t gotten … any easier.”
Bear placed his hand on Austin’s shoulder and squeezed. “It will, man. It will.”
“Will it?” Austin looked at his friend. “When?”
Bear shrugged and looked at the bar as if he would find the answer chiseled into the surface. “I think you—”
A laser blast flashed across the room. The music ended in a shower of sparks falling to the floor. All movement in the bar stopped. Several people gasped as a stunned silence fell over the room. Austin stood from the bar, his mouth hanging open. The music system crackled and sparked in the corner. The miners that had been sitting in the corner rushed toward the exit. Austin watched as the locals moved past figures standing in the doorway.
He froze.
Six Star Runners, all wearing their blue flight suits, stood at the entrance. The leader, a hulking man with broad shoulders and a captain’s insignia on his collar, held a smoking laser pistol. Taking a step forward, the captain holstered the weapon and turned back to the men with him.
“Which one?” the captain asked, his voice deep.
Austin looked behind the captain. The five other Star Runners stared into the bar, vicious sneers on their faces. Two of the Tizona Star Runners
had fresh bruises on their faces, and Austin recognized them from the alley. One of them raised a finger toward him.
“Hey!” Tom stepped from behind the bar. “You can’t come in here—”
“One more word,” the captain said as he moved his hand back to his holstered weapon, “and I decorate this bar in charred flesh.”
Biting on his lip, Tom moved back.
With his hand resting on the pistol’s grip, the captain marched across the wooden floor. The man’s large round eyes bulged out of his head like boiled eggs. His bulbous face glistened with sweat, his hulking frame looming over Austin. Suddenly, the captain’s right cheek twitched and shook as he came to a stop two feet from Austin.
“Name’s Captain Jameson,” he said, his voice flat and monotone like a robot. His face twitched for a heartbeat like a recovering drug addict. “Heard you roughed up two of my boys here the other night.”
Austin swallowed, glancing at the Scorpions who had squared off with the newcomers. “Yes, Captain.”
“Care to explain yourself?”
“I made it pretty clear the other night,” he said, looking at Jameson’s twitching face. “We don’t have the right to attack the locals.”
“We don’t?” He glanced back at the other Star Runners with a grin.
“It’s wrong, sir.”
“Wrong?” He stepped closer, his lips rising over his teeth. “Listen, this is our world. You ever—ever—tell my men what’s wrong again, you might have yourself a real accident … and not just a warning. You got that?”
“That was you?” Anger burned through Austin’s mind as he realized the collision had been no accident. His heart raced. “You did that on purpose? I’m—”
“You’re what?” Jameson asked, his foul breath touching Austin’s face. His right eye twitched and closed. “You’ll tell your commander. I’m a Captain, son. Who do you think they’ll believe?”
Austin couldn’t hold back. He shoved Jameson with both hands, the man’s muscular frame barely moving. With one sweeping motion, Bear hit Jameson across the back with a barstool. Jameson grunted, swinging around and hitting Bear in the chin with an uppercut. Wood splintered around the bar, falling to the floor in a shower of sharp particles. The Scorpions rushed into the Tizona Star Runners, fists flying. Bottles smashed into skulls and bodies fell into the tables.
