by Joshua James
“Yeah?”
“Your father, is he…”
Ben didn’t know how to answer. He could’ve told Chevenko that his father was dead. It would make things a whole lot less complicated. But that was dishonest, and the admiral was his dad’s friend. And a man like Lee, or Chevenko for that matter, didn’t have many of those. Not really.
“He’s alive. For now,” truthfully answered Ben.
“He’s out there taking the fight to them, isn’t he?” asked Chevenko.
Ben smiled. “Of course he is. Where else would he be?” He didn’t force that smile. It was naturally born from relief that Chevenko didn’t ask any more questions. He didn’t question his father’s honor, ask if Lee was a traitor, a coward, or a deserter.
“No one I would trust more to save our asses. Take care, Ben, I mean it. Oh, almost forgot. I think my men captured some of our friends. Have them down in the brig. I’ll send word you’re coming down to fetch them.”
Ben was stunned. “Wait, do you mean—” He was cut off by blaring sirens.
Chevenko saw an urgent video call in his HUD. He answered it. “Are they inbound?” the senior officer asked, knowing the answer full well.
“Damn,” he said to himself, then locked eyes with Ben. “Go! Get your friends and get out of here before they have us surrounded. Good luck. Lieutenant, raise shields and contact the reserves back at Aurora Point.” Chevenko very briefly put his hand on Ben’s shoulder on his way out of the office. The yellow-eyed alien followed after him.
Ben ran through the halls of the base as fast as he could. The going was tough, though. UEF soldiers scrambled to get their gear and make their way to their posts, not caring much about anything but their own haste. He bumped, squeezed, and dodged his way to the staircase, figuring the wait for the elevators could be a while.
Ben emerged from the stairwell in the basement level. A couple of men and women, soldiers, ran right past him as he tried to find his way to the cells.
“What do you think is happening?” asked Wan. He pressed his ear against the clear metal-plastic wall of the prison cell.
“I’m guessing that big fleet that was chasing us was on their way here,” answered Clarissa. She turned to no one. “Yeah, no, he is an idiot.”
“I’m an idiot?” Wan asked. “You guys are the reason we’re even on this shit pile of a moon.”
“Be quiet,” said Ada as she lay on the floor, her own jacket over her head.
“Come on, Captain. Give us a break,” agreed Congo.
“Sorry to interrupt your beauty sleep, Your Highness, but if you haven’t noticed, we’re a little screwed here,” Wan said.
“Just please shut up and let me think.”
“Think about what? I didn’t know you were an escape artist. Seems like a good skill to mention when you’re locked in a prison cell with other people.”
“Yeah, those are attack sirens. There’s no way this base will be able to stand up to that fleet. And we’ll get buried under thousands of tons of rubble.” Clarissa pointed out the depressing obvious.
A group of UEF soldiers ran down the basement halls, right past the opening to the brig.
“Hey! Hey! You! Let us out of here!” yelled Wan. “Or just ignore me, that’s okay!”
“They can’t hear you,” said Congo.
Ada suddenly sat up. “I got it! I’ve got a plan to get us out of here.”
“I knew you had some brains to go along with all that beauty. Whatcha ya got?” Wan went from upset to excited in an instant.
Ada pointed at the clear cell wall with the main hatch. A UEF soldier stood at it, typing in a code. A second later, it slid open.
“You’re free to go,” said the soldier, a burly middle-aged woman with the look of someone who’d lost a lot reflected in her eyes. “You can help us fight. But I advise that you run.”
“Thank you, kind angel soldier lady. She’s right. Let’s get the hell out of here!” Wan was the first out the door. Clarissa and Ada took their time. “What!? Move it!”
“What’s this ‘we’ you’re talking about?” asked Clarissa.
“Whaddaya mean? We’re a team!”
Clarissa turned her head to the side. “I know, I don’t trust him either. We can’t just leave him, though.”
Wan took a step back. “Who the hell is that woman talking to?”
Ada stepped forward and took the lead. “Don’t worry about it. Let’s go.”
Ada led Wan, Clarissa, and Congo out of the basement. Any kind of map or direction would have helped, but instead there were just endless corridors with storage spaces, different medical facilities, and a massive safe room. She saw a sign pointing to the elevators, and decided that that was the best way to go.
As soon as she turned the corner towards the elevators, Ada literally ran straight into someone. She was going to give some poor jarhead the business when she looked up and saw who it was.
“Ben?”
“Ada!”
It was impossible to tell who was more in shock. But it wasn’t hard to tell they were both happy to see each other, from the furious kiss that ensued.
“So do these two know each other?” asked Wan as he watched Ben and Ada embrace. “Or is this just how the UEF is greeting each other these days? Because I could get behind that.”
“That’s our captain,” answered Clarissa, eyebrows raised. “But he’s never been that excited to see me.”
Nine
In Flames
“Yoo-hoo, Captain Kissy,” Wan said as Ada and Ben broke their embrace. “It’s great to meet you and all, but you got a plan to get the hell outta here?”
“As a matter of fact, I do,” Ben said, taking Wan in with one quick up-and-down.
Wan opened his arms. “Damn, I might kiss you next.”
Ben ignored him. “Follow me. We need to get to the hangar.”
“Lead the way.”
As they went up the stairs, Ada and Ben walked side-by-side. Wan, Clarissa, and Congo weren’t far behind. There was so much to talk about, but first came the worst and most obvious conversation.
“We thought you were dead,” explained Ada. “I wanted to come back for you. We wanted to. But—”
“It’s okay. I would’ve been pissed if you did. He would’ve killed you.”
“So did you have to…?” she began.
“No. Thankfully not. I managed to get him back.”
Ada stopped. “You did? That’s amazing! How?”
“It’s a bit of a long story,” Ben said as he waved for her to keep walking. “That I’ll tell you later, I promise. So…LeFay, Tomas?”
Ada looked down at her feet and now it was Ben’s turn to stop walking. Ada opened her mouth but no words came out.
Ben touched her shoulder gently. “Hey, I’m sure you did all you could. If my dad has taught me anything, it’s that you can’t beat, fool, or cheat death. There was nothing you could do.” Ben was upset to hear about his friends’ demise, but he knew there would be time later to remember them, honor them. For now, though, there was still a lot of work to do.
“How about my friends?” Wan asked from the back of the line, a staircase down. “I lost my whole damn crew.”
“I’m still here,” pointed out Congo, who was just ahead of him.
“Oh, you know what I mean.”
“I’m sorry for your loss, Captain. Truly, I am.” Ben leaned over the stair railing to reassure Wan. “They died because you helped my friends get here. You helped the mission. None of us, none of humanity will forget their sacrifice when this is all over. You can take my word on that.”
“Not gonna take your word on anything. Don’t even know who you are,” mumbled Wan.
“Fair enough,” Ben said. “I hope I can change your mind.”
He started up the stairs again. “How did you guys get here, anyway?” Ben asked Ada.
“Captain Asshole there owed LeFay a favor,” Ada said, nodding back at Wan as she continued to ascend the
stairs alongside Ben. “She cashed in on a ride off Vassar-1. We just barely made it off that graveyard of a planet, only to come here and find it’s just as bad, if not worse. At least there it was mostly aliens killing people, not people killing people.”
“Yeah, the classics never seem to go out of style, unfortunately. That…I really liked LeFay, quirks aside.”
“Me too. She died trying to take on three spider tanks.”
Ben laughed. He couldn’t help it; it just came out. “Sounds about right.”
“You shouldn’t say that she ‘tried to’,” added Clarissa. “She took them out. Craziest thing I’ve ever seen. Seriously.”
“Sorry, Clarissa,” Ben said. “I know you knew her best.”
Now it was Clarissa’s turn to laugh, if ruefully. “I knew her well enough to know that she wouldn’t have wanted to go out any other way.”
Ben led the others from the staircase into the hall just outside the base’s hangar. It was pandemonium. Pilots rushed to their ships as engineers checked them out, made sure they were armed and bug-free. All except the two pirates in Ben’s group remembered the scene in the bunker before the battle of Vassar-1. This was like that, but at a much larger scale, as there were almost seventy fighters on base and two dreadnaughts parked out back.
Two giant sliding iron shutter doors were open so ships could take off and join the fight that was just starting. Through one of them, Ben and the others saw the base’s plasma shielding doing its job and absorbing the impact from AIC dreadnaught, warship, and battleship cannons. It would block missiles and shells, but could only keep projectiles out. If an AIC fighter decided to kamikaze their way in, they would be unimpeded.
Looking through the opposite hangar’s shutter doors, Ben and the others could see two dreadnaughts. One was in the process of taking off. The other was grounded. Ben figured it was reserved for VIPs and high-ranking officers like Chevenko—especially since the outside was covered in reflective panels, meant to work together and render the huge vessel invisible.
“Are we hijacking one of these ships, or do you have one lined up?” asked Wan, hands on his hips, looking around at all the hardware on display.
“I got one lined up.” Ben looked around, knowing full well that he had no idea which one. He needed to find someone to point him in the right direction.
An engineer came running by in front of Ben. Ben grabbed him by the arm, stopping him.
“What’re you…What do you want!?” asked the agitated engineer.
“My name is Ben Saito. Admiral Chevenko arranged a bomber for me. I can show you my pilot authorization, if you want.”
“Yeah, no, whatever, man. I gotta go.” The engineer pulled his arm out from Ben’s grip. He pointed to the far side of the hangar. “Bombers are over there. Ask them.”
“Thank you!” yelled Ben at the engineer, who ran off to whatever he was in such a hurry to do.
As the group made their way through the mass of UEF military in the hangar, Wan caught up with Ben, and somehow managed to bully Ada out of the way so he could get the man’s attention.
“Hey,” Wan said awkwardly.
“Hello.”
“I was wondering, man, if maybe—possibly—you wanted to not take a bomber. I mean, the things are slow, cumbersome, not exactly the fastest or most discreet of ships.”
Wan’s tongue should’ve been forked. “We don’t have much of a choice,” Ben pointed out.
“You know, I can see why you’d think that. But it turns out a criminal such as myself has a few tricks up his sleeve.” Wan looked around to make sure no one was eavesdropping. Of course they weren’t. There were much more important things to pay attention to at the moment.
“Like what?”
“Like access to a UEFIA master key.” Wan referred to a program created by the United Earth Federation Intelligence Agency to allow users to access and crack pilot authorization codes for virtually any vehicle.
“That’s…impressive, Wan, but we need a bomber.”
“For what?”
“To bomb shit, of course,” Ben said.
“How about a corsair? They have a couple parked down there, conveniently enough, right next to the bombers. They can drop bombs too. Plus they got missiles. Double the trouble, double the fun. Am I right?”
Ben actually took a moment to think about it. Chevenko offered the bomber because Ben asked for one, but Wan was right: they were slow, had limited maneuverability, and were oddly shaped, making them stick out like a sore thumb on the battlefield.
The rogue in Ben was intrigued but skeptical. “There’s no way we could get away with that.”
“Leave it to me, Cap. You guys keep going like you’re gonna use whatever shit bomber they have, and I’ll have it in our possession in no time.”
“Okay, let’s say you succeed. Then what?”
“Then I pick you guys up and we ride off into the sunset forever, leaving this shitshow behind.”
“Just that easy, huh? Go for it, man. We’ll be waiting,” urged Ben. He watched as Wan peeled off and went to go steal a corsair.
“Where the hell is he going?” asked Ada after catching up with Ben.
“He said he wanted to steal a better ship than a bomber.”
Ada had a confused look on her face. “But there’s soldiers and shit everywhere. There’s no way he can pull this off. He’ll be stopped, arrested, maybe worse.”
“He seems really … confident,” Ben offered.
“Confidence is not one of his failings,” Congo murmured. “Maybe one of his only strengths.”
“He’s on his own,” Ben said. “Come on, I can see the bombers, they’re just ahead.”
Wan removed pieces of clothing as he walked. As much as he treasured his coat, his very expensive coat, it stood out, and his life was worth more to him than how many credits he’d spent on it. He took off pieces of jewelry but didn’t toss those, slipping them into his pocket. Before reaching the area with the corsairs, he grabbed an engineer’s uniform whose owner had taken it off because it was too hot in the hangar.
“Excuse me. Excuse me, sir!” Wan heard a stern voice behind him as he started up the loading ramp onto one of the corsairs. He stopped and turned to see a rather unpleasant-looking man holding a tablet.
“I was assigned to do maintenance on this ship,” answered Wan. He was confident in the simple fact that no machine worked perfectly. Most people, the cogs in a machine like a military-level hangar, knew their jobs, but they rarely knew their coworkers’ jobs, or even who worked alongside them. It was a bet he’d almost always won throughout his criminal career.
“I was under the impression that this ship was already cleared. We were just waiting on the pilot.”
“The pilot is who had me sent. There was an abnormality found in the pre-flight. He noticed it in his HUD, requested maintenance from engineering before he got here,” Wan sighed. “So that’s me.”
The man frowned. Wan wasn’t much for spotting military rank, but he could tell this guy didn’t have much. “I gotta move on this,” Wan said.
“Okay, but hurry up,” the man said at last. “We need these ships out of here as fast as possible.”
“Understood, sir.” Wan sarcastically saluted the soldier and climbed aboard the ship.
“There must be some kind of misunderstanding. Admiral Chevenko himself requested a ship put aside for me.” Ben spoke to an engineer near the bombers. Other ships started to lift off, floating above the hangar and patiently waiting their turns to join the fight.
Only two bombers remained. One already had a crew on board and was starting pre-lift off checks. The other was an old raggedy ship with bent and dented armor, looking like it didn’t even run. That was to be Ben’s, it seemed.
“No misunderstanding. This is your ship. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have other ships to prep.” The engineer walked away, leaving Ben, Ada, Clarissa, and Congo with a real pile of junk and no other options.
“All r
ight, well, I wasn’t expecting this,” said Ben.
“I thought you said you two have known each other since you were a kid,” said Congo as she looked at the death trap.
“We have.”
“And he likes you?” asked Clarissa.
“I thought he did.”
“It’s still a ship,” Ada said. “Let’s get it ready to go. Clarissa, you want to pilot this thing?”
“I’ll try.”
“Okay, let’s do—” Ben was about ready to accept it and make the best of it when he heard a loud commotion in the hangar. Engineers and soldiers were waving their hands, looking up at a corsair that slowly hovered just out of their reach, with its landing ramp still deployed.
“That sneaky bastard,” Ada said, looking at the floating corsair with disbelief.
Wan appeared on the corsair’s loading ramp with a wide gold-toothed smile. He was wearing a regulation engineer’s jacket, but it seemed he’d taken the time to put his jewelry back on. Ben didn’t care; he was just happy that the pirate was actually able to deliver when Ben had been certain he couldn’t.
“That’s our new ride, come on!” Ben was the first to go running up to the corsair. It lowered slightly, just enough for Ben to get his mechanical hand on the edge of the ramp.
Ben easily pulled himself up onto the ramp, where a smiling Wan said, “I told you I could do it.”
“You did. We owe you. Now we’ve got to get the others.”
After Ben helped everyone on board the corsair, ignoring the yelling and screaming for them to stop, Clarissa sat in the pilot’s chair. Everyone else took their positions in the cockpit, and they were ready to rock and roll.
“I don’t think they’re very happy you took their ship,” pointed out Congo, looking out the cockpit windows at the commotion below.
“I don’t think I care,” responded Wan. He was eating a packet of peanuts he’d found in the ship’s shared space.
“All right, Clarissa. Get us out of here,” said Ben as he dropped into the captain’s chair. He’d expected an argument from Wan, but he seemed more interested in his snack.
