Star Runners: Scorpions

Chapter 4-2

If this had been a real battle, he would be dead.

He exhaled.

Dead.

A small team of six “grease lykers” scurried out onto the hangar deck as the Tridents landed. Austin had listened to the rest of the practice engagement. To his surprise, Crone led Z-Squadron to a narrow victory. Bear and Skylar had survived along with Sorn. The rest of the defeated Star Runners floated in the moon’s orbit until the exercise ended.

His canopy opened with the strain of servos. He unhooked his helmet, staring at the dark control board.

“You all right, sir?” One of the maintenance crew moved the ladder to his fighter and climbed to the top. He was a young man, a thin layer of peach fuzz covering his cheeks. His eyebrows arched in concern.

“I’m fine,” Austin said, standing in the cockpit.

Sweat caused the inside of his pitch-black flight suit to slither around his back. Glancing down, he missed the Tizona blues. Instead of the familiar squadron colors on the flight deck, all the Star Runners wore the solid black of the Scorpions.

He sighed and looked down at the maintenance crewman. “Thanks.”

“Anytime, sir.”

“What’s your name?”

The crewman’s body went rigid, his blue eyes widening. “Starman Greg Earl, sir.”

He raised his hand. “You’re not in trouble, Starman Earl.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“I appreciate you checking on me.” He climbed down the ladder. “Not everyone gives a crap enough to ask.”

“Crap, sir?”

He sighed. “Never mind.” He nodded toward the Trident. “She’s all yours.”

Making his way across the hangar deck, he heard other Star Runners celebrating.

“I thought Rock was supposed to be something good!”

Austin stopped walking. Turning, he faced Dimas Sorn. The Star Runner stood next to his Trident with his hand on the fuselage. With his tanned skin and shiny hair sticking to his skull like he used a bucket of gel, Sorn looked like a guy selling clothes at the mall. Bear said the former Tarnex Star Runner had been on three tours, but Sorn looked about the same age as Austin.

Sorn glanced over his shoulder as if to verify he had the attention of the other Star Runners leaving their Tridents. Satisfied, he turned back to Austin with a smirk.

“Glad you’re not on my wing, dumb ass. You let poor Sunshine bite it a couple of seconds after we engaged. Nicely done.” He clapped once, paused a moment, then clapped again. “Let’s hear it for Rock. Woo!”

“Knock it off!” Marcos yelled, running from his Trident.

Sorn raised his hands in a mock surrender. “Oh, no! The two losers are going to beat me up after class!”

Austin halted in front of Sorn. “You got something to say to me? Then say it.”

Sorn took a step closer, his six-foot-four frame towering over Austin. “I think I already said it.”

Austin held his breath, tightening his grip on the helmet. If he wanted to, he could smash it over Sorn’s face.

Sorn’s lips curled back over his giant teeth. “Go ahead and do it. See what happens.”

Several other Star Runners gathered. Austin swallowed, his temper falling with the sudden attention from all the eyes on him. Bear pushed through the crowd, his face red.

“Hey!” he yelled, coming to a stop next to Austin. “What’s going on?”

“That’s a good question,” Austin said, never taking his eyes off Sorn. “This guy’s been on our ass since we arrived. I want to know why.”

Sorn eyed Bear for a heartbeat before turning to Austin. “You don’t deserve to be here. This is supposed to be a squadron of the best. Other than three newbies who got on board because they know someone, we are the best.”

He took a step closer, his hawk-like nose nearly touching Austin’s. “I heard you’ve got a recruiter you’re best friends with and he hooked you up with this job. He gives you special treatment, gets you all these plush assignments, and people start thinking you’ve got talent when it’s all been fixed for you. This guy, this recruiter, he like your sugar daddy or something?”

“I didn’t ask for anything,” Austin said through his teeth. “I’ve earned everything I got. No one did anything for me.”

“You don’t know what he’s been through,” Bear said, glancing at Skylar. “What we’ve all been through.”

“So you’ve had a tough tour, and you think everyone should roll out the red carpet for you,” Ricardo “Spike” Jardine said, stepping next to Sorn and running a hand through his fiery red hair. “Maybe some of us have paid our dues for years to get to this point. Giggles is right; you haven’t earned it.”

“Right,” Sorn said, hissing like a snake. “Maybe you and your recruiter got some other kinda special relationship. Maybe he’s making up for your deadbeat dad abandoning you on whatever worthless rock you came from.”

Austin gripped his helmet, hard. Bear shoved Sorn with both hands and punched him.

Austin lurched forward but arms wrapped around his shoulders and restrained him. The Scorpions merged into a mass of struggling bodies. Some tried to break up the potential fight. Others took action.

“Let me go!” Austin yelled, struggling to break free.

“Cool it, man!” Marcos shouted over the chaos.

“Damn it! Let go!”

A laser bolt fired, the sound bringing a sudden silence over the hangar deck. The crowd of Star Runners parted. Wilkos stepped into the center of the group, holstering his weapon as he glared at them.

“What the hell is going on?” he asked.

Seething, Austin shook off the hands restraining him. He stared at Sorn, wishing he had leaped across the deck to smash the guy’s face when he had the chance. Wilkos stepped toward Austin.

“Something you have to say, Rock?”

“No, sir.”

“You think just because you got your ass handed to you out there you can come back to my hangar deck and start a brawl?” He shook his head. “This isn’t the local tavern and this sure as hell ain’t no time or place for a fight. You’re a Scorpion now! You all act as a team. You have to be better than this!”

“Sir, I don’t think—”

“Shut up! I don’t remember asking you a question!” He stepped back, looking at the entire group. “I witness anything like this again, the parties responsible are going to have an accident in an airlock and take a free walk in space. You got that? I’ve no idea what kind of nonsense was allowed on your last assignments, but it stops here. Right now. Got it?”

“Yes, sir!”

Wilkos crossed his arms over his chest. “Now, run. One of you screws up like this, you all get punished. Drop your stuff and run till I say stop. You got that? Run!”

Helmets and tablets crashed to the ground, and the Scorpions took off still wearing their full flight suits.

They ran until several Star Runners puked on the hangar deck, but none stopped running for long.

“Enough!” Wilkos finally yelled. “Hit the showers. You smell like sewer rats.”

They trudged towards their helmets. All of them gasped, sucking down oxygen as if they’d been drowning. Jogging in the full flight suit and boots had been like running in the Georgia heat with a trash bag tied around your body. Sweat ran down his skin and filled his boots. His muscles ached, his lungs burning.

He picked up his helmet and tablet, taking a deep breath as he shot a sideways glance at Sorn. His perfect hair was drenched and the smirk had vanished.

“Rock!”

Austin looked toward Wilkos. “Yes, sir!”

“Front and center!” he yelled from the end of the line of Tridents.

He hurried to Wilkos and clicked his heels, saluting the major.

Wilkos didn’t move, the black sword tattoo on his neck swelling. He returned the salute and sighed, glancing at the others leaving the hangar.

When the final Star Runner exited and only the working maintenance crew remained, Wilkos said, “Need to speak frankly, Lieutenant. If we’re going to continue working together, I think we have to get something straight. I don’t want to see any fights between my Star Runners. Understood?”

Austin said nothing.

“You may speak freely.”

“I understand, sir.”

“What happened out there?”

“I stayed on Sunshine’s wing as instructed. I got hit by a blind missile shot. I guess…I should have kept a better eye on my scope.”

“Hmm.” Wilkos pursed his lips. “I think the reliance on your scope is the problem. I checked your file.”

Oh, great—my file.

“Seems you’ve seen action since you were a recruit in flight school, yes?”

“That’s correct, sir.”

“An incident with your instructors and a skirmish on a dark world?”

Austin winced. A “skirmish” on a dark world was not how he would have described the Tyral Pirate attack on Atlantis in an attempt to take over Earth, but he held his tongue.

“After that,” Wilkos continued, “you served on the Formidable with distinction until your file was…deleted. I did a little digging, and they listed you as ‘deceased.’ They didn’t elaborate what happened to you on this assignment. You’re the only one of my Scorpions who didn’t need a cover story to join this squadron. Care to explain?”

“With all due respect, I don’t think I’m at liberty to say, sir.”

“I see.” Wilkos paused. “Anyhow, I read your experience has left you with precious little combat time during a system disruptor detonation.”

Austin frowned. “A disruptor was fired during the skirmish on Earth.”

“Systems disruptors have advanced recently and continue to improve. Capital ships on both sides are now capable of firing powerful disruptors to scramble all the sensors in a star system, and they’re getting stronger all the time. Because of the rumors of stealth ships being nearly invisible to sensors, I’ve been told maximum system disruptors are the way of the future and the reason we all need to sharpen our dogfighting skills until we’re razors.”

“I understand, sir.”

Wilkos smiled. “I know you don’t like to lose, and today, you lost. I don’t give a crap about a Star Runner who likes to lose. You, Bear, and Cheetah are the youngest on the Scorpions. You three were selected because it was thought your amount of battle time at such a young age would be beneficial to the overall squadron. But I need you to study harder. Over the next few months as we train, you need to put in more work than ever before. Can you do that, Lieutenant?

“Of course, sir. I’ll give you everything I’ve got.”

A cloud fell over the major’s face. “A war’s coming. They might not say so now, but the Zahl hate us for resisting their invasion generations ago. Every moment we exist is a reminder to the Empire of their failure. Sooner or later, they’re going to fight. I can’t explain it but I feel it in my bones. When it comes, we’ll be first to respond. I want us to be ready.”

“We will be, sir.”