Star Runners: Scorpions

Chapter 3

3

Ryker brought a numb hand to her face. Feeling around, her fingers halted at a gash in her helmet. Something had split it from the top of her skull down the right side leading to her jaw.

Shaking her head, she pressed the release. The collar released its vice grip, and it split away. Humid air surrounded her as she wiped a sticky liquid from her face.

She squinted as her blurry vision cleared.

A purple mushroom loomed over her.

Bright daylight beamed onto her damp face as she crawled out of the devastated escape pod. She grabbed the pod’s survival pack and climbed away from the wreckage. Taking a deep breath, she stretched and turned around.

Behind her on the opposite side of the ravine, a trail of broken ground and shattered rocks speckled the hill to her escape pod. Metallic debris littered the canyon, making it easy to see from the air. Looking to the impact area, she shook her head.

The escape pods were designed to automatically safeguard a Star Runner’s life, adjusting course and speed in the event the pilot was unconscious. Following the explosion, her pod must have brought her to the planet. Without it, she’d be dead.

As she reached the summit, she passed another enormous purple mushroom. She leaned against it and wiped sweat from her face.

Far in the distance, a cloud of smoke darkened the clear sky. Kneeling, she opened her pack. Standard in all pods, the survival pack included signal flares, binoculars, a pistol, protein bars, and enough water for three days. It also included a Whisper encryption transmitter in the event the Legion sent a rescue party.

She froze, staring at the Whisper about the size of her fist.

Would they send a rescue party?

She thought back to her final hours on board the Formidable. Before they departed, Major Braddock had provided few details about their mission to protect the “asset” which turned out to be the Wraith. Flying a motley-looking squadron of Tridents, Corvos, and one Karda with all identification marks removed, the team curved to a remote star system within Zahlian Space to retrieve the stealth ship.

The resulting battle had been the most chaotic she had ever witnessed. Unmarked Tridents battled Zahlian Interceptors in deep space. What had happened after they destroyed her Trident? Was the mission successful? Had the Wraith escaped? Had Austin?

Shaking her head, she focused on the present situation. This planet was located inside Zahlian space, so any potential rescue would take time. Pressing the binoculars to her eyes, she scanned the horizon. Black smoke floated into the sky, but no spacecraft descended on the location.

Could this smoke be from another crash site? Had more ships crashed to the surface during the battle? Or, perhaps, it was the valley where she’d dropped the Serpents in their attempts at securing the Wraith’s escape?

The Wraith.

Her thoughts drifted to Austin. Thank the stars he was alive. She thought of him swimming in Oma’s warm waters, his body next to hers in their room in Seaside.

If she wanted to see him again, she needed to get away from this crash site. She thrust the binoculars back into her pack and continued moving.

Daylight faded, revealing a sky full of stars. Other than her brief experience on Flin Six, Ryker had never visited an uncharted planet. Austin had come to the worthless ball of dust for her, despite all orders to flee back to Tarton’s Junction. He’d risked his life to save her and Jonathan Nubern. She had never witnessed such devotion from anyone, let alone anyone caring for…her.

Austin always looked at her and not the image she tried to project. He never saw a flight instructor or, later, a Captain. Despite all the terrible things she’d said to him about hiding their relationship, he never broke a promise. He never sought revenge. He loved her. And she loved him.

She leaned against a mushroom and gazed into the sky. Nothing moved across the blackness. Peering into the stars, she prayed Austin could hear her thoughts. Would you rescue me again? Would that be too much to ask?

Smiling, she stretched her legs. Other than bruises and cuts, the crash had done little to affect her body. She took a long, slow drink from one of her three canteens. The water soothed her throat. Taking a deep breath, she sat in silence as a soft breeze moved through the mushroom field. She leaned her head into the soft trunk and closed her eyes.

Before the daylight faded, she had hiked through the wilderness for six hours in an attempt to put distance between the escape pod and her current position. Any Zahlian forces coming to inspect the crash site would be sorely disappointed. If Legion forces arrived, well, that’s where the Whisper would come in handy.

She pulled the transmitter out of her satchel and held it in her hand for a moment. Casting a wary eye on the empty sky, she activated it.

“Mayday, mayday,” she murmured. “Downed Star Runner requesting assistance. Please respond.”

Static.

Sighing, she thrust the Whisper back into the satchel and crossed her arms over her chest.

She was alone.

She imagined Austin wrapping his arms around her.

Her rank…her career meant nothing to her now. When she made it through this, things would be different. Her career was important, but her love for Austin transcended everything. She thought he knew that…she hoped he did.

“I’ll give you everything I’ve got.”

It was the last thing she’d said to him.

The crackling of the gamma wave during Austin’s last transmission buzzed in her mind.

“I know. You always have.”

A laser blast ripped through the air. She gasped, her heard thudding. A cold sweat covered her. She searched the darkness.

The sound echoed.

Pressing against the mushroom, she controlled her breathing. Blood rushed through her ears with each heartbeat.

The feeling reminded her of being awakened as a child on Lian. During her time in the bunkers under the war-torn world, artillery fire often ripped her from sleep—sometimes several times a night. Even though it had been years since she had been on her home planet, the memories lingered.

She stared at the stars and listened. Nothing.

The laser had originated from the distance, but the bolt had not landed close. And there had only been one.

One shot seemed deliberate. Two would have been careless. She remembered a line from her post-Gauntlet survival training: Two shots and your enemy can locate your position.

What if the Serpents were still in the valley? She thought of where she’d dropped the men out of her Karda to defend the Wraith. While their mission to protect the stolen fighter had obviously been successful, had they survived? Perhaps she should head in that direction.

At daybreak, she stood and headed toward the valley where she hoped the Serpents remained. Shaking away a lingering thought she might be waltzing into a detachment of Zahlian Marines, she started hiking up a hill covered in a mix of trees and mushrooms.

Taking a drink from her canteen, she drained the first day’s ration. Two more remained in her satchel, but she needed to keep an eye out for more water sources. She had no idea how long she would be on this small moon.

By midday, she’d reached a second summit. She paused and surveyed the horizon. The smoke in the distance transitioned to faint streaks like eraser marks on a piece of paper. She shook her head.

It was still far away, she thought. She wouldn’t make it today. Night would fall in a few hours, and rolling hills covered the ground between this position and her target.

Turning her binoculars to the land, she swept left to right and saw no water. Trees and more mushrooms dotted the landscape. Perhaps she could find water down there and a place to sleep.

She worked her way down the hill, her eyes flicking from the sky to the ground. If a Zahl ship were coming, she’d hear it long before it came within weapon’s range. If the ARC was still in orbit, however, well, it didn’t matter what she did—they’d find her.

Walking under cover of taller trees at the base of the ravine, she stepped through damp grass and allowed her eyes a moment to adjust. Cooler air surrounded her. She reached out and touched moss-covered bark as she passed.

The plant life opened to a clearing, revealing the darkening sky. She stopped in front of a giant mushroom and dropped her satchel. She collapsed with a grunt, her muscles sore. Opening the satchel, she took three gulps of water before remembering to conserve. She ripped open one of the protein bars and took a bite, trying to imagine she was chewing a fresh apple or chocolate…or anything but this powdery bar with the consistency of sand grinding between her teeth.

Finishing the protein bar, she leaned against the mushroom’s trunk and gazed into the stars. She pulled out the Whisper and ran through diagnostics. The device seemed to be operating normally. Closing her eyes, she called out into the darkness. Perhaps this was the time someone would hear her distress call.

After trying three times, she shut down the Whisper to conserve power and placed it back into her satchel.

Austin would have insisted on a rescue mission. Braddock would have, too. She hadn’t been Captain long, but she was sure some of the Thirty-Second Tizona would want to save her as well. If she had known Austin was still alive following his staged funeral, she would have gone after him.

A cold reality fell over her.

They think I’m dead.

In the chaos of battle, she knew all too well it was easy to lose track of casualties in space. Star Runners missing in action happened more often when the conflicts occurred close to Zahlian territory. Without the ability to mount a rescue operation, the Legion might have accepted the losses as an unfortunate price of the mission.

She sighed. They may never come.

What was that?

Ryker leaned forward and strained to focus. Something moved in the stars.

There! Something wavered in the sky. A flash of light sparkled. Was that a curvature drive opening?

Her pulse increased as she fumbled with the binoculars.

“Please,” she whispered, scanning the sky.

She swept the heavens and froze on a moving object. Magnifying the view, she focused. It had to be a vessel of some kind as it was too large for a satellite.

Wetting her lips, she watched the unknown ship sail across the sky. Her heart sank once its shape came into focus. It didn’t have the angular shape of the Legion’s Parazonium-class carrier.

The vessel slowed and changed direction. She held her breath as the ship increased in size and altered its position in orbit.

And then she recognized a colossal cannon protruding from the ship’s bow.

An ARC.

Ryker lowered the binoculars. A Zahlian ARC had just entered orbit above her quiet little moon.

And she was alone.