by M.J. Baker
felt to him like a two hour long dream, but for the rest of the galaxy it was over in the blink of an eye. Likewise he didn't understand the scientific reason the freighters had to wait half and hour to dump their excessive drive heat, while his own craft would be ready for another jump in five minutes. It was something to do with size but the mathematics eluded him.
Marack kept an eye on the sensors. The Bellicose pirates rarely hit a freighter on the run towards Irakillion. They preferred to destroy or capture the food and medical shipments. When the ADF had been re-founded the debate on this 'tactic' had lasted ten minutes before being shut down by Admiral Raec. Marack knew that high command didn't want to face the truth. To hell with them, he thought, he'd stay in the ADF as long as it took to for them to realize what was happening. It didn't matter if that took months or years, he'd keep fighting. When they finally admitted that Irakillion was behind it all, he'd fight that much harder.
The flight timer indicated that the freighters would be jumping in another minute, with a sigh Marack maneuvered the fighter to follow them. He hoped the Beliocose would make an appearance on the trip back, he needed to bloody their noses just a little more this week.
When he finished the second jump Irakillion appeared before him just far enough away that if Marack really concentrated he could convince himself that it wasn't really as big as his fight computer said it was. He could just about make out the gray areas of cities or industrial centers, scattered about in a sea of green. His flight computer automatically identified the larger of those cities, noting their average population or dates of founding for him. Marack had never seen more than a few hundred people in his entire life and the numbers had no real meaning for him. Despite his lack of connection with the planet he had long ago promised to one day step foot on Irakillion's surface, if only to see what all the fuss was about.
Marack forced his mind away from the planet and onto the task at hand. Sikes' craft was ahead of him, moving in a wide arc towards Auxiliary Station four, it was little more than a hanger bolted onto a giant storage box. Behind him the two freighters winked into existence. In the far distance to his left was another station, twenty kilometers high and built with a mix of materials that made it look like it was made out of marble and glass. Highpoint station was a symbol of Irakillion's prestige and power. A constant trickle of ships came to and fro, most would be from other systems all eager to purchase the materials mined from Alaris regardless of price. Like the planet itself Highpoint was also off limits to him.
“Auxiliary station four, this is Vali fight leader, requesting permission to dock.” Sikes' voice clicked over the comm-link.
“Confirmed, hanger bay two is ready and waiting for you.”
“I should get my landing requests pre-recorded.” Sikes said over their private frequency. “I was almost sick in again the middle of that. Wouldn't that have been fun?”
“Sure. You have one job here and you mess it up.”
“You forgot making sure you don't get any glory. It's almost a full time occupation in itself.” The freighters had begun their own ponderous turn towards the station and this close to Irakillion there was almost no chance of an attack. Marack keyed his flight computer for automatic landing.
“Why bother. One day the entire galaxy will know who I am.”
“All glory is fleeting.”
“But obscurity lasts forever.” As the hanger bay swallowed his fighter Marack wondered if Sikes truly believed he was just some foolish glory seeker. If he was being honest he would have been very disappointed if she did. Before him the hanger bay doors opened to swallow his craft.
Auxiliary 4's pilots lounge was large, well decorated, expensive looking and for the first time either he or Sikes could remember, unlocked and unguarded.
“Would you look at this place.” Sikes said in a whisper. “Even walking here feels like heaven.” Marack glanced at the floor.
“It's called carpet Captain. I hear it's fairly common in many places.”
Sikes let out a bitter laugh. “I'm glad to see you've finally mastered sarcasm.”
“Well if you need any pointers I'll be glad to fill you in.” She pushed passed him to get a better look at the lounge. Along the right side were dozens of comfy looking couches where one could stare out of the huge window that dominated the room. The light from the Alaris nebula, almost the only source of light in the entire room, gave everything a psychedelic and yet strangely relaxing look.
With more energy than Marack thought it fair she had Sikes bounded over to one of the couches and threw herself into it.
“I don't care if they fine us an entire freighter for trespassing, it's worth it.”
“I'll tell that to the starving children back home.” Sikes shot him a look but didn't say anything as he sat down in the couch next to her's. “It does feel good though.”
“Almost makes the hangover worth having.” Marack found his eyelids begin to close. It wasn't fair really, today had meant to be his day off and he needed the sleep. He opened his mouth to say something but saw that Sikes already had her eyes closed. He decided to let her enjoy the comfort of the couch in peace.
Marack looked out at the nebula but found his eyes drifting downwards until they came to rest on the small table in front of him. His eyes snapped open and he found himself jerking awake. There, on the table, was something he had been praying to find for months. Just abandoned as if it didn't matter to anyone. Marack picked up the book and stared at the front cover, half convinced he was dreaming.
'Zero-Gravity combat maneuvers for pilots of the Irakillion Expeditionary Force. Edition IV.' He glanced around the room to check if he was being watched before stuffing the book down the front of his jump suit. It was worth a try. He settled back down in the couch and closed his eyes, praying his heart would calm down soon.
Someone kicked at his legs and Marack pulled himself out of a dream he hadn't realised he was having. Above him the Irakillion officer, a tall, dark haired man a few years older than him stared back with a grimace twisting his already unhappy features.
“Get up.” He snapped and kicked at his legs again. Marack smiled at little and sat up in the couch. He waved the officer away with one hand and turned back to stare at the Alaris Nebula. He had recognized the man as Marcus Ansen, one of the so called 'ex-nobles' of Irakillion. He'd flown at least a score of missions with the man but had never seen him fire a single shot.
“I said get up you lazy Alarisan scum.” Ansen said and kicked at his feet again. Marack swung his legs out of the way and then stood. He pulled himself to his not too impressive full height. “When you're given an order, you say 'yes sir.'”
Marack's eyes glanced to the small rank insignia on Ansen's shoulder. He shrugged. When he finally spoke he kept his voice low and his eyes off the two men standing behind Ansen in identical uniforms. “You're only a Flight Officer. That's not even a real rank, you're just a ensign who's family's to proud to accept that title. I'm a lieutenant, so go bother someone else.”
“I still out rank you, you bloody idiot.” Ansen said, the look on his face told Marack that he actually believed he didn't know. “Every single officer, even the non-comms out rank you. So you'll say 'yes sir' and give me a nice little salute and march off on your merry way. This lounge is off limits for your kind.”
“Is there a problem?” Marack felt his heart drop. After last night Sikes needed the sleep far more than he did. “Well is there?”
Ansen's eyes narrowed and Marack heard Sikes shift out of the couch and stand. He could see the mental calculation running through Ansen's mind.
“No Captain.” Marack said. “We're just enjoying the view.”
“Really? Looks to me like you're about to break this man's nose.” She said. Ansen snorted and shook his head.
“I didn't realise your kind came in pairs.” He said. Sikes crossed the few paces between them and stood shoulder to shoulder with Marack. He felt his heart begin to thump in his chest as Ansen's
two companions sized them both up.
“Our kind?” She said with the patronizing tone of a school teacher. “What? Are we a different species now? I can trace my families roots back to Irakillion's first colonists. Were your family even on this planet when we colonized Alaris?”
“It doesn't matter. You're nobody here. Why don't you go to the bar and get me something to drink. Captain.” Sikes turned to Marack and sighed. Marack clenched one fist behind his back
“It seems like every time we come here there's some new idiot trying to rattle me up.” Marack opened his mouth to speak but was cut off by Ansen.
“Didn't you hear me? I said get your-” To hell with this, Marack thought and brought his fist around in what he had to admit was not the best punch he ever gave. The blow however took Ansen by surprise and he stopped in mid-sentence and staggered back a little. Marack felt his face drop as Ansen didn't even have the dignity to fall down.
“Well.” He said to Sikes apologetically. “It was going this way sooner or later.” Ansen took a step forward and raised his fists in what Marack thought as a surprisingly competent looking motion.
“Enough.” Marack, not wanting to look a gift horse in the mouth went perfectly still at the sound of that voice. It was another one he had heard so often over the commlink of his fighter. Captain Alexander