Star Runners: Scorpions

Chapter 12-1

12

The Karda rocked through the upper atmosphere of the remote Legion moon known as Omeya. Austin glanced at the four Scorpions sitting across from him all clad in their nondescript black fatigues. A total of eight Star Runners filled the Karda’s interior with the remaining Scorpions packed into another ship destined for Omeya.

Wilkos grasped a ceiling handle as he stood behind the Star Runner piloting the Karda and faced the passengers, leaning as the craft bounced through turbulence. “We’ll be landing at Fortson Base on the outskirts of a mining town known as Gen’s Folly. Temperature is hot and humid, but I expect all of you to maintain uniform regulations whenever you’re on duty. Understood?”

“Yes, sir,” the Scorpions replied.

After two days on board the Torch, the Scorpions had received little regular training. Instead, Wilkos filled the time with reminders about “regulations” and “discipline” as well as quizzes sent to their tablets. The assessments tested their knowledge of engagement protocol, evasive maneuvers, and more.

It had been a long two days.

When he wasn’t sending them his quizzes, Wilkos provided a history of the Omeya mining colony. Discovered uninhabited a century ago by the legendary scout Star Runners, a group Austin knew as being the pinnacle of the Legion Star Runners’ career, Omeya had served as one of the Legion’s most remote outposts inside the Fringe.

Civilians looking to escape the hustle and bustle on inhabited worlds, longing for the simple life of living on a rural world, became colonists. The population remained small at only a few hundred, and Wilkos said there was no sign it would grow. He believed Omeya would be the perfect secluded location for the Scorpions’ first assignment away from the Nest.

“Once we arrive on base,” Wilkos continued, “we’ll head directly to a hangar set aside especially for us. This will be our home for the next few months until Command is convinced we’re ready for deployment. I expect you all to be razor-sharp at all times. Same rules apply here as on the Torch. No discussing the details of this squadron with the 54th Tizona and certainly not with the locals. Clear?”

“Clear!” the Star Runners said in unison as the Karda continued the descent.

Sitting next to Austin, Skylar nudged him and leaned close. “Stay frosty, right?”

He smiled. “Of course, Sky. Always.”

The Karda’s engines whined and strained as it moved into a steep turn before leveling out. The landing gear lowered into place as the thrusters gave one last whoosh of power, and the Karda touched down on Omeya. The ramp lowered, flooding a rush of hot, humid air into the compartment.

“Everybody out!” Wilkos yelled.

Skylar glanced at Austin as they stood and rolled her eyes. “Feels like South Georgia.”

He took in a breath of thick, sticky air. “Worse.”

With Wilkos screaming at them, the Star Runners ran into the fading daylight on Omeya. Along the horizon, the cloudless sky burned a golden brown. Captain Senza led her group of remaining Scorpions out of a second Karda and onto the landing pad. Three massive steel hangars encircled them. Tall steel fences lined with razor wire surrounded Fortson Base.

The officers led them into one of the dark hangars smelling of oil and fuel. Once all Scorpions entered, the massive hangar door closed, leaving them in complete darkness.

“Scorpions,” Wilkos said, his voice echoing around the hangar, “I would like to introduce you to your new babies—the Trident IV.”

The room illuminated, four large circular lights warming with a buzzing sound and shining on the floor. Below sat a row of seventeen sparkling new Tridents painted black, with an image of a Scorpion on the rear stabilizers. Wilkos stepped in front of the Star Runners, placing his hands on his hips. He nodded, gesturing toward the brand new Tridents.

“Faster than her predecessor,” he said, “the Trident IV is the latest in Legion technology. Pulse lasers cannons fire at the same pace as a Zahlian Interceptor. Optimized power levels allow quicker shroud recovery in battle, and new hull plating advances can reduce the effectiveness of all but the most powerful stunners. And did I mention she’s the fastest fighter in the fleet? She’s a prototype, so I expect you all to treat her well. In this new age of dogfighting, she should be able to show the Interceptors quite a fight when war comes.”

Wilkos held his hand toward the Tridents. “Each of you has your own fighter assigned. You’ve been working hard these past months, and I’m happy to be your CO. Take the rest of the night. It’s yours. Captain Senza, grant passes to head into Gen’s Folly to those who desire it. Report back here at zero-five-thirty tomorrow for your flight briefing. Dismissed!”

The Star Runners hurried toward their Tridents, a hush falling over the group. Soon, excited conversations bubbled around the hangar as they surveyed their new fighters.

Bear and Skylar ran off together, finding their Tridents side-by-side. Austin strolled along the line, observing the sleek paint job on each of the Tridents. At the end of the row, he saw his fighter.

He paused, placing his hands in his pockets and taking in the sight of his new spacecraft. A ladder sat beside the nose leading to the cockpit. Along the edge of the canopy, white letters stenciled “ROCK” into the hull.

Grinning, he reached out and slid his fingers along the nose. Walking along the length of the fighter, he allowed his hand to sweep under the smooth fuselage and along the wings.

“Hi there,” he whispered.

Moving back toward the nose, he stood and took in the sight. He couldn’t help but smile as he thought of the loading screen on the Star Runners game back home and the hours he’d spent staring at the image of the Trident clashing with the Interceptor, dreaming of being part of the battles. On his Christmas tree back home, the Trident and Interceptor swung from the branches as the flashing lights twinkled. During his last holiday at home, he’d talked with Josh before their lives changed forever.

Josh, I wish you could see this, he thought.

Taking each step with care, he ascended to the cockpit and keyed the canopy open. With a whistle of servos, the canopy hissed and revealed a smell reminding him of a new car. He knew the fighters must have been flown here, but the maintenance crew on the base had cleaned the cockpit so it looked like no one had ever sat in it. Placing his hands on the edge of the cockpit, he stared down at the perfect piece of technology.

Leaning back, he marveled at the Scorpion icon on his stabilizers.

Ryker would have loved this, he thought as he lingered at the cockpit’s edge.

“You alive up there?”

Austin looked down. Bear and Skylar stood on the polished hangar floor staring up at him.

“Just introducing myself.” He stared back at the Trident. “She’s beautiful.”

“Yeah,” Bear said, “she is. Do you think she’ll let you go out tonight?”

Skylar smiled at him. “Skipper doesn’t let us off the hook too often. We should make the most of it, don’t you think?”

Austin patted the side of the Trident and closed the canopy. “See you tomorrow,” he whispered and turned to his friends. “All right. Let’s go.”

“Gimme another round!”

Austin shook his head as the tall, skinny bartender poured Bear another drink. He turned away and scanned the modest bar.

Four locals huddled around a circular table at the back of the room. A thick layer of smoke hung over their heads. Comic book drawings of scantily clad women and several maps covered the walls. A neon sign depicting an overweight man with a pipe glowed behind the bartender. The neon man held his hands at his side facing up, which Austin figured was supposed to be Gen and his “folly.”

When the bartender stepped in front of him, Austin nodded toward the sign. “Who’s that supposed to be? Is that Gen?”

The bartender scowled. “How am I supposed to know? I just work here. Wanna ‘nother drink or not?”

“I’m good.”

The man snorted and moved toward a sink full of dirty glasses. Austin glared at him as he worked. The gruff bartender had been the third person to make him feel, well, unwelcome since they had arrived on Omeya.

Earlier when they left Fortson Base, one citizen reeking of body odor and alcohol wearing a dirty gray coverall slammed into him on the street. Austin tried to be polite. The man lunged at him, his eyes wide, and had to be restrained by his friends.

When Austin attempted to apologize for angering the man, one of the other locals spit on his boot.

And now the bartender had treated him like crap.

He leaned toward Skylar. “What’s with this place?”

“I know,” Skylar said, wincing. “They can’t make a drink worth anything.”

“Not what I’m talking about.”

Bear leaned on the bar, propping himself with his muscular arms spread across the damp surface. “You still upset you almost got beaten out there on the streets?” He stared at Austin with his eyes nearly closed. “Don’t worry, buddy. I got your back. You know that.”

“Wow.” He rolled his eyes. “I feel better already.”

Austin turned to face the rest of the room. He watched as a local shuffled across the floor toward a blue box on the wall. The dirty man wore the same stained coveralls as the angry individuals from earlier. He assumed all the civilians they had seen since arriving were miners.

After typing into the box, the man shuffled back to his seat. A second later, music started playing out of crackling and popping speakers.

The music sounded like a combination of country and a symphony with a chorus mixed in. Tapping his feet, Austin imagined he was at a restaurant with his parents in downtown Atlanta. He remembered when they used to take him down to visit the Olympic Centennial Park. Sometimes they would go to a game, while other times Dad would place a blanket out on the grass and they would lean back to gaze into brilliant blue skies over Georgia.

“Hey,” Skylar said, nudging his shoulder, “you awake?”

“Sure.”

“Whatcha thinking about there, tiger?” She smiled at him. “First time I’ve seen you look happy in a long, long time.”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. Just thinking about the old days, I guess. Earth is so far from here.”

“I don’t know.” She placed her hand on his shoulder and squeezed. “I got you guys with me. Home doesn’t seem so far away.”

Austin looked at her as she pushed her blonde hair away from her face. Following the Battle of Atlantis, Skylar had asked him to come home with her to Florida. When he declined and decided to meet with Ryker on Oma, it had been one of the hardest decisions he’d ever made.

“Did you have fun on your…last leave?” he asked.

She looked at him, her eyes sparkling in the neon light. Tilting her head, she studied his face as the song ramped up. “Could have been better, I guess.”

He nodded. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“I love this place!” Bear yelled, kicking his legs out from the stool and into the air.

Skylar turned around to face him. “Quiet down!”

The local miners at the circular table in the corner recoiled at the sudden outburst. Two stood and tossed bottles into the trash on their way out the door.

“I think you’ve had enough, man,” Austin said, leaning over Skylar toward Bear.

Laughing, Bear shook his head and drained his bottle. “I could probably have one more.”

“No,” Austin said, shaking his head. He looked to the bartender. “Sir, would you mind not serving this gentleman another drink?”

The skinny man turned halfway around from the dirty glasses. “If he’s paying, I’m serving. Be fine with me if he drinks himself silly and gets behind the stick of a Trident.”

Austin frowned. These people hate us. “Did we do something to piss you off, man?”

The bartender turned around, his jaw muscles flexing. “You Star Runners come in here, scare off my customers and then have the nerve to ask me what you did? Finish your drink, hotshot.”

“Star Runners are here to protect you.”

“Right. You guys protect about as much as a hungry beast in a butcher’s shop. It’s always been this way since Jameson took charge of the 54th.””

“Jameson the CO here?”

The bartender widened his eyes as he continued cleaning a glass with a dirty rag. “You’re a smart one.”

“What happened?”

He set the glass down. “Things were fine at first, well, same as they’d always been. Star Runners come in here, spend credits and leave. But then Jameson and four Star Runners disappeared for a couple of months. We didn’t see them at all. Didn’t care much since they just create a lot of noise at the base. Things were nice and quiet, see?” Crossing his arms over his chest, the bartender gazed into a different time and place. “When they came back, they had changed. They became aggressive, even more arrogant. I didn’t think that was possible. They came in here starting fights and picking on the locals. Guess that’s the way the Legion is running things now?”