Star Runners: Scorpions

Chapter 14

14

“Roger, Rock is number one for approach.”

Using the green HUD flashing in front of him, Austin lined his Trident inside the approach pattern leading to Fortson 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 Wilkos and a short follow-up from Senza, the Scorpions had proceeded to their new Tridents.

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. It was quicker and more nimble than Tridents he had flown before, but was still a far cry from the magnificence of the Zahlian Wraith. He longed to once again be behind the stick of a craft so majestic. Perhaps the Legion would create something comparable in the future.

He 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 left three degrees. Since Wilkos would be grading him, he wanted 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’s heart pounding. “Where?”

“Coming in from the east! Break! Break! Break!”

With no time to question the Tower, he banked left and pulled up. His Trident shot away from the approach pattern, the engine blasting. Pushing more power into his throttle to avoid a stall, he gained altitude and flew away from the air traffic. A cold sweat ran down his back.

I nearly had a midair collision.

“Better watch the skies around here, hot shot,” a voice sneered over the speaker.

On his sensors, four Tridents zipped through the approach pattern. He scowled. It was the 54th Tizona Star Runners from Gen’s Folly.

“Rock, Blade,” Wilkos transmitted. “Report.”

Austin shook his head. “Blade, Rock. Copacetic here.”

“Proceed to base,” he said, frustration leaking into his voice. “Scrap your tactical approach for the day.”

“Copy, sir. On my way.” Austin took a deep breath, changing course back for the Scorpions’ hangar.

“What happened?” Austin asked, climbing down his Trident’s ladder as the engines whined and cooled. “I didn’t see them on my sensors.”

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.

“The tower didn’t even see the Tridents until they ascended directly into your approach pattern,” Wilkos said, shaking his head. “They were flying too low to show up on anyone’s sensors until they nearly collided with you.”

He gripped his helmet as he exhaled through his nose. “What were they doing?”

Senza took a step forward next to Wilkos. “They said they were conducting low altitude maneuvers, and there’d been a mixup in providing 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.”

“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 ripple rolled through the Scorpions as they burst into angry chatter.

“Maybe we should have ourselves a little accident and shoot down one of their patrols,” Sorn said over the clamor, his eyes locked on Austin.

“All right—that’s enough!” Wilkos yelled. “Remember yourselves! You’re the best squadron in the Legion—act like it!”

“Permission to speak, Major?” Sorn asked.

“No!” Wilkos spun toward Senza. “Get them 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 acted appropriately, and there was no harm done. Cool your heels for the next thirty-six hours. 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, he nodded as he placed his fingers around the cold drink. In the dim light, 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.”

“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, allowing the thick syrup to slide around his mouth. He’d 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 on this world they could get some R and R.

“I think a round’s 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 their comrade Hazel Treuchel was telling about a previous mission. Marcos, her new boyfriend, sat nearby looking as if Hazel told the most amazing story in the universe.

After a few minutes, Austin moved away from the bar to a circular table. He settled into a wooden chair, stirring his drink around in the glass atop a table covered in stains. Scratches crisscrossed the wood, and he wondered what tales this table could tell.

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.”

He laughed. “So Topper and Sunshine are definitely 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. 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.

He 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 tune began, Austin sighed and shook his head.

“The squadron’s pretty mad about what happened to you today,” Sorn said.

He frowned, staring at his nearly empty glass. “We should just forget it. Might have been an accident.”

“I don’t know. You guys roughed up a couple of their own.”

“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 I’m telling you we’ve got your back. Wilkos knows what he’s doing. I’ll give him that.”

Austin tilted his head. “How do you mean?”

“When he first had us running till we puked, I thought he 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’re 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 focus to drift toward the bar, Austin watched the other Scorpions as they laughed and exchanged stories. Sorn was right; they had grown together.

“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. “She’s one of my best friends.”

“Friend?” Sorn shook his head. “That’s got to be tough.”

“Tough? How?”

“Don’t think I’m built to withstand ‘friendships’ with beauties like that.”

His stomach fluttered. “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?”

“Course not.”

“Sure?”

He nodded. “Go for it.”

Sorn drained his glass and stood, straightening his black off-duty fatigues Wilkos required all the Scorpions to wear. He walked across the bar as the music picked up, rattling the shelf of glasses behind the bartender.

Austin couldn’t hear, but he watched Sorn talking to Skylar. Suddenly, she glanced toward Austin. He looked away, feeling stupid for watching her 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 his 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 watching with his goofy grin.

Austin finished his drink and stood. The room swirled for a heartbeat. He moved toward the bar and sat next to Bear.

“Hi!” Bear yelled as if he’d just realized Austin had arrived.

“Hey, man. Not dancing?”

“No!” Bear yelled. “I’ve 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.”

Tom refilled his glass. He stared 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.”

Austin looked at him. “When?”

Bear 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 stopped. People gasped. Austin stood, his mouth hanging open.

The music system crackled and sparked in the corner. The miners sitting in the corner rushed toward the exit. Austin watched as the locals moved past the figures standing in the doorway.

He froze.

Six Star Runners wearing Tizona 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 pistol. Taking a step forward, he holstered the weapon and turned back to his men.

“Which one?” the captain asked, his voice deep.

The five other Star Runners scanned the bar, vicious sneers on their faces. Two had fresh bruises on their faces, and Austin recognized them from the alley. One 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 his lip, Tom moved back.

With his hand resting on the pistol’s grip, the captain marched across the wooden floor. His large round eyes bulged like boiled eggs. His bulbous face glistened with sweat, his hulking frame looming over Austin.

“Name’s Captain Jameson,” he said, his voice flat and monotone like a robot. His face twitched like a recovering drug addict. “Heard you roughed up two of my boys the other night.”

Austin glanced 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 quivering face. “We don’t have the right to attack the locals.”

“We don’t?” He glanced 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?” His heart raced. “You did that on purpose? I’m—”

“What?” Jameson asked, his foul breath touching Austin’s face. His right eye spasmed and closed. “You tell your commander. I’m a Captain. Who do you think they’ll believe?”

Austin 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. He grunted, swinging around and hitting Bear in the chin with an uppercut.

Wood splintered, falling to the floor in a shower of sharp fragments. The Scorpions rushed into the Tizona Star Runners, fists flying. Bottles smashed into skulls and bodies broke through tables.

Lowering his shoulder, Austin crashed into Jameson and took him to the floor. The captain hurled him like a toy, crashing him into a wall.

“Enough!” Jameson fired once, the laser bolt burning into the ceiling and sending sparks onto the floor. The fight behind him ceased, replaced by stirring silence. He held the pistol toward Austin, the muzzle shaking. “You’ve done it now.”

Austin stared into the barrel. Jameson’s bulging eyes blinked, his face convulsing as his finger rested on the trigger.

“I should—I should…”

The pistol shook.

“Please,” Austin said, holding up his hand. Was he going to shoot? “Don’t.”

Sorn took a step forward, his lip bleeding onto his chin. “Captain,” he said, his voice calm, “we were in the wrong, sir. We didn’t mean to do it.”

Jameson’s face crumpled into a violent spasm, and he placed his free hand on his forehead.

“Return to your hangar,” he said through his teeth.

A Tizona Star Runner, a deep cut bleeding over his left eye, cried, “But, sir, they—”

“Silence!” Jameson spun around, the pistol still in his hands. He squinted as if staring into bright sunlight. “All of you! Get out of here! Now!”

Sorn stepped over Austin and offered his hand. “Come on. Hurry.”

He nodded as Sorn pulled him to his feet. Glaring at the Tizona Star Runners, the Scorpions straightened their fatigues, leaving the bar covered in shattered glass and splintered remains of barstools and tables.

“I need to know everything,” Wilkos said, offering a bag of ice to Austin.

The battered Scorpions filled the briefing room, nursing superficial wounds and bruises from the scuffle. Bear wiped dried blood from his jaw where his teeth had bit into his lip, courtesy of the uppercut from the Tizona CO.

“I’ve been sent an official complaint from Captain Jameson about your behavior tonight,” Wilkos said, crossing his arms over his chest. “It’ll take some time for this complaint to reach Command. So I want to know what happened in there, and I want to know now.”

Sorn raised his hand. “Permission to speak freely?”

“Granted.”

“That man’s a whack job.”

A weak chuckle spread through the Scorpions.

“Can it!” Wilkos barked and looked at Sorn. “This is a Captain you’re talking about.”

“I know,” he said, pressing ice to his lip, “but there’s something not right with the guy.”

“Explain.”

“He’s twitching like a druggie going through withdrawal for one.” He nodded toward Austin. “I thought he was going to fry Rock’s face off for a second there, but he probably couldn’t have hit him at point blank range.”

Wilkos frowned. “What do you mean?”

Sorn made a gun with his finger and shook his hand around. “He was doing this when he was about to shoot and then he stopped.”

“I see.” Wilkos looked at the other Star Runners. “Anything else?”

“Yes, sir,” Bear said.

“Go ahead, Lieutenant.”

Bear stood on wobbly legs. “Captain Jameson said the Tizona squadron tried to ruin Austin’s landing tonight.”

“They said that? They said those very words?”

“Yes, Major.”

“Hmm.” Wilkos stared at the floor before looking back at Austin. “You okay, Lieutenant?”

He nodded, still feeling a bit shell-shocked at having a superior officer jab a gun in his face. “Yes, sir.”

“Good.” Wilkos stood at his full height. “You all still have tomorrow off, but I don’t want you going into town for the duration of our assignment here. Got that?”

“Yes, sir,” the Scorpions said in unison.

“Things are liable to get a little dicey around here. Just heard from Command there’s been marauder activity at the edge of this system. Intelligence believes they might be preying on incoming traffic to Omeya over the next couple days.” He looked at Austin. “We’ll have to stay frosty.”