Star Runners: Scorpions

Chapter 4-1

4

Twelve Tridents swept in an inverted “V” toward the Interceptors. The point Trident moved just ahead of the rest, the others dropping back to lure the Interceptors toward a particular area. The Zahlian craft approached with discipline, flying in unison. The ARC fired a system disruptor when it first arrived in the area, scrambling the sensors of the local craft. Talent and skill would decide this contest, not computers and sensors vying for a signal lock.

Red bolts shot from the Interceptors, filling the darkness with crimson lightning. A Trident took a shot on the shields above the right stabilizer. The Star Runner panicked, pulling up and out of position. The desperate move spread fear down the Legion formation. Star Runners broke, scrambling and ignoring their wingmen. The Interceptors moved in like sharks in a school of fish, first blood whipping them into a frenzy as they dropped seven Tridents on the first pass. Others locked into a vicious furball, laser fire filling the space.

It was over in eight seconds.

The green lights warmed, and the holograms hovering over their heads faded. Senza stood from her corner stool, her fingers interlocking and coming to rest at her belt. She allowed her eyes to fall on each of the Scorpions, her red curls falling on fit shoulders as she paced in front of the class.

“What went wrong here?” she asked, tilting her head to the side as she waited for an answer.

Austin resisted the urge to roll his eyes. For the past few weeks, they had spent hours watching holographic depictions of massive dogfights, some real and others projected. One of the battles, an escort mission on the border where Tridents fought off a wave of fighters led by a zealous Fringe warlord, lasted more than one hour. After each engagement, Senza always started the discussion with the same question. Every single time.

“I’m waiting,” she said, folding her arms over her chest.

And that was the other thing she said. Every time.

It wasn’t that he didn’t like Captain Senza. During orientation, Senza said she hailed from Pacar. Of course, this made Austin think of his late friend Etti Mar. The young woman popped in his head every day, and this gave him reason to like Senza right off the bat.

But he hated being in the classroom for fourteen hours at a time. They’d been told the squadron of Tridents in the landing bay would be theirs for training. When the day would finally come was anyone’s guess.

For now, they’d been brushing up on tactics and answering detailed questions about proper rules of engagement. The complicated maneuvers and equations far exceeded anything he had learned on Tarton’s Junction. He had incorrectly believed his long days in a classroom ended when he left the station.

“Lieutenant Stone,” she said, stepping in front of him. “I asked you a question.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said, sitting up. “My apologies.”

She shook her head. “Tell us where the Tridents went wrong.”

The other Scorpions glanced at each other, a collective smirk on their faces. Since classes began, he found the other squad members to be arrogant and quiet. They seemed to look down their noses at him. And it wasn’t directly solely at him. All of the other officers were older and more seasoned than Bear, Skylar and Austin. Whenever they would retire to their bunks, the other Scorpions said little or nothing at all.

During the night, he overheard some of the them discussing past campaigns. Their tales carried none of the boasts he’d become accustomed to hearing on Tarton’s Junction or onboard the Formidable. Austin would listen, staring at the ceiling as they shared stories of combat stretching back years.

Glancing at the other Scorpions, he said, “They broke formation and panicked.”

“Good. What should they have done?”

“If they stayed in formation,” he said without hesitation, “the Interceptors may have broken and concentrated on the lead fighter. If the Zahlian forces were not disciplined and wanted to see who could get the first kill shot, it would have been all the distraction the Tridents needed to get the upper hand. That one instant would’ve allowed them to take out the Interceptors. Instead, the opposite happened.”

“Anything else?”

“They lost their cool,” he said, lowering his gaze. “When you panic up there, you don’t live to regret it.”

Senza considered his statement, glancing at the floor. “In your experience, what would you recommend?”

He shot a glance toward Bear and Skylar sitting on either side of him. Both nodded. Turning back to Senza, he grinned. “Stay frosty.”

She blinked. “I beg your pardon?”

“Stay frosty.”

She tilted her head. “What do you mean by that?”

“It means be calm,” Bear said, raising his hand. “No jerky movements or frantic maneuvers. You know, fly smooth and alert. Stay frosty.”

Senza stared at them. “You three flew together before, correct?”

“We trained together,” Skylar said, “and fought together.”

The older Scorpions looked at them; their smug expressions vanishing. Instead, for the first time since they’d arrived, the veteran Star Runners looked with respect instead of contempt. Austin finally understood why the older Star Runners had treated the three youngest the way they did. When they saw three Star Runners in their early twenties, they probably assumed the youngsters had received this assignment due to favoritism or even nepotism. Now, it was as if the rest of the Scorpions saw them for the first time.

“That’s good to know.” Senza clapped her hands. “I think you’ve had enough recordings today. Dismissed for some grub. After that, we fly.”

Austin banked right and peered out his canopy at the alien world in the distance. Senza assured the Scorpions the dark world of Lola had no instruments with the capability to detect their practice maneuvers.

Although Senza said the Lola was home to a primitive people barely out of the Stone Age, the green marble with the swirling white clouds at the poles looked very similar to Earth. He stared at the world, amazed at the thought of an entire culture evolving under those clouds.

Thinking of Earth naturally made him wonder about Josh Morris, his best friend back home. When Austin had returned from Mission Wraith, he had backlogged messages to read, and three were from Josh.

Josh and Kadyn were dating, still cruising around their old stomping grounds. Josh mentioned they went to the coffee shop on Friday nights and were usually the only ones there. Business had slacked off a lot, but the black and white photo of Marilyn remained. While still undergoing therapy for his brutal time in captivity, courtesy of the Tyral Pirates, Josh worked as a Legion scout on the Earth servers for Star Runners. He logged about four hours a day and completed reports of talented recruits, but it sounded like his life wasn’t much different than it was in high school. He sounded happy, and that was enough for Austin.

“Z-Squadron, let’s tighten it up,” Shizuko “Chrome” Crone said, the gamma wave sizzling. “Let’s try not to make it too easy for these guys today.”

“Copy,” several Star Runners in Z-Squadron said at the same time.

A tough woman with the frame of a mixed martial arts fighter complemented by a stare able to melt any opposition, Crone had been selected by Major Wilkos and Captain Senza to lead their first practice dogfight. In her past, the woman had been a veteran lieutenant from Excalibur Squadron. Bear said he heard Crone had been on six tours even though Austin would have guessed she was only in her twenties. During that time, she had allegedly racked up twenty-one kills.

“All right, Z-Squadron,” Wilkos said. “You’ll be entering the combat zone in forty seconds. Remember, you’re playing the part of the Tridents today. Your enemy will come in masquerading as Zahlian Interceptors. To compensate for the Interceptor’s advantages such as maneuverability and speed, your thrusters and engines have been outfitted with special governors to reflect the enemy’s advantage. You’ll be firing harmless training lasers. Once the onboard computer registers a kill shot, you’ll be instantly curved to the far side of the moon where you’ll wait until the engagement has been decided. Good luck!”

The speaker went silent. Austin cracked his knuckles and grabbed the stick. These veterans might enjoy acting like a bunch of monkeys’ asses back on the base, but they had never seen him fly. He took a deep breath, relishing in the soft whine of the Trident’s systems. Glancing at his sensors, he checked his position in the formation.

Crone had him at the farthest tip of their “V” pattern. He flew next to his assigned wingman, Diego “Sunshine” Marcos, a Star Runner hailing from Tizona Squadron. They placed Bear on the opposite side of the “V” with Skylar right next to him.

The HUD flash red.

“We’re in the combat zone,” Crone said. “Keep your eyes peeled. Shout out bandits when you see them. You’ve all seen combat before, so keep your cool.”

“I guess we’ve all seen combat,” Dimas “Giggles” Sorn said.

Austin knew Sorn had directed his comment in the direction of the three youngest Scorpions. Sorn, formerly of Tarnex Squadron, had been leering at Austin for some reason since they first arrived.

“Cut the chatter,” Crone said before Austin could speak. “We’re all on the same team out here.”

Austin shook his head, focusing on his sensors. Ten minutes passed. Z-Squadron circled the moon three times. He leaned back and yawned. Even a boring patrol would be better than spending another fourteen hours in the classroom, going over endless—

“Incoming!” Skylar announced. “Five bandits at three o’clock!”

“Five?” Crone asked. “What about the other three?”

“I count five,” Gillian “Blue Jay” Sacks said. “Coming in hard, too.”

Crone exhaled. “All right. Stay in formation. Break right and get those missiles warm.”

Austin activated his weapons, banking and staying in position. He watched the enemy form into two groups. Three fighters came straight for them while the remaining two stayed at a distance.

“Coming in two groups,” Crone said, her voice straining. “Stay ready.”

“Stay frosty,” Bear said so loud Austin could hear him smiling.

“Not this again,” Sorn said.

“Cut it!” Crone barked. “Stay in formation. Wait for my signal.”

Austin bit his lip, trying to remain in position even though every muscle wanted to commit. He held his breath, watching as three lead bandits crept beyond the other two. The range dropped below one hundred MUs.

“Engage!” Crone shouted. “Get those locks and fire at will! Sunshine! You and Warthog take Rock and Cheetah. Take out those lurkers in the distance.”

“Roger,” Marcos said.

Austin grabbed the throttle and his sensors went black. Several Star Runners in his squadron swore over the gamma wave.

“System disruptor fired,” Crone said calmly. “We expected this, people. Stay with your wingman and engage.”

The two squadrons shot toward one another.

“You with me, Rock?” Marcos asked.

“Right on your wing.”

“Follow me.”

The squadrons clashed. Fighters swarmed. Cobalt-blue bolts of harmless lasers filled space. Austin kept his position to the left and a little below Marcos as he zeroed in on the bandits lingering in the distance. Two friendly Tridents disappeared from his sensors, signifying they had been hit and curved to the far side of the moon.

Radio chatter filled his helmet. Instead of the frantic screams he’d witnessed during his skirmishes on the border while stationed on the Formidable, these Star Runners exuded calm and professionalism in the transmissions.

“Hold it together.”

“Blind shot on your six.”

“Got it.

“Cheetah, swing around behind the bandit.”

“Roger.”

Austin lowered his gaze, watching a bandit in the distance. Without operational sensor lock, Marcos would try to get in close and take him out with lasers or a blind missile shot. It was Austin’s job to cover him.

“Z-Squadron,” Crone said, “be advised there are three more fighters sighted behind us. Take out your targets and swing around ASAP.”

The laser cannons on Marcos’ Trident came to life, spitting blue charges toward the bandit. The target took evasive action, spiraling away from them. Dipping forward, the two Tridents pursued.

The bandit passed in front of them, probably less than fifty MUs, but Marcos didn’t fire.

“Right with you, Sunshine,” Austin said, hoping to encourage his wingman to fire.

And then Marcos’ Trident shuddered. Austin glanced over at the Trident, saw a blue field shimmering around the fighter. A heartbeat later, it passed through a curve and disappeared.

“What?” He turned around, but it was too late. A vicious lightning shot across his control board.

A glow appeared around the Trident, and he passed through a curve. All systems had shut down. Other defeated Tridents floated in the darkness with only their position lights visible. He stared at them, his jaw dropping.

Had he just been defeated?

Shaking his head, he replayed the brief dogfight. He had stayed on Marcos’ wing as ordered. Propping his elbow on the side of his dark cockpit, he stared at the moon.