The Edge

by Leslie Lee

down."

  Telli was the one who had elevated him to Leader after the engagement for "duty above and beyond." During the engagement, he had just wanted to get back home in relatively one piece. After that, he hadn't much cared. Let events take their natural course. Which for him meant Th'han'dra would be Leader. Telli's agenda was different. She'd pushed for the commendations and for his status as Leader. She'd stared him down when he'd objected. She asked in cold tones whether he was questioning her judgment, leaving him stumbling over his own words trying to deny any such thing, then becoming completely tongue tied.

  His face flushing, he sat down next to her. She continued to observe the various flight patterns and monitor the squad comm chatter. Diego, the duty Squad Ops Commander, paced around inside of Squad Ops. To Mak, Diego always appeared to not have enough things to do yet still not getting any of them done. He much preferred the other Squad Ops Commanders or on those rare occasions, Telli. Diego exhibited a constant need for status as if he couldn't figure it out for himself by looking at the Big Board. Definitely high maintenance.

  The Big Board wasn't really a board at all. Instead, it was a three dimensional display of the fleet that floated in the air. The Squad Ops Commander and staff could observe fleet movements, the pod tracks, and any other features within sensor range. Vectors indicated trajectories of the various ships. There was an identical Big Board for the Bridge crew but they didn't pay attention to the squads. The Bridge flight controllers coordinated closely on pod deployment, but it was Squad Ops Command controlling the pods.

  The fleet was relatively stationary observing the rock cloud. Raptors and Hammers were patrolling closer to the area, while the DN's kept their distance.

  "What were you trying to do out there, Mak?" Telli asked suddenly.

  "Uh, out where, sir?" he said confused, since he'd been watching the Big Board.

  "The Kyrzal convoy."

  "Ah, uhm, nothing, sir, nothing," he mumbled. "I was just trying to, you know, not make a mistake. I mean the fleet. Not have you, them I mean, make a big mistake in attacking them. You know, they weren't going to hurt anybody."

  He reddened. He hated sounding like such an idiot.

  "Did you try to warn them of the buster?"

  "Uh, no, sir," he said quickly. "I did not, sir."

  She raised an eyebrow slightly but then looked away, her face neutral.

  "Come on," Telli said, suddenly getting to her feet. He noticed she didn't pick up her valise. Okay, that was the way it was going to be. He grabbed it and followed her.

  The next few days were filled with flying which was great. And following Telli around like her shadow, which wasn't. He had managed to channel away most of his feelings of humiliation. The extra assignment had the side-effect of keeping him from thinking too much, dwelling on the face of the Kyrzal child. And of course, it was Jerry who pointed out the opportunity here to pick up a thing or two. He did find after the first day, he didn't mind just tagging along because he was learning about things which had been mostly voodoo to him. Plus, he ventured into areas of the ship to which he would not normally have access. He got to see the Executive staff, although they acted like he was invisible. The toting and carrying, the fetching of coffee and snacks, cleaning up after her, that crap he could've done without. But for the most part, she refrained from completely humiliating him in public. He even managed to anticipate her needs. He thought, maybe hoped, she'd appreciate his efforts. Though that could be a mixed blessing. She might come to believe he was better as her gopher than as a pilot.

  The Squad Ops Chief did have one bad habit. She'd suddenly jump up and run off some place. He'd have to hustle to collect her stuff and follow. She never announced where they were going, adhering to some private schedule which she hadn't shared with him yet. He didn't care. Being kept in the dark was SOP for pilots. He just wished he'd get a little warning before running all over the ship.

  They had worked their way to this corridor. Very few people around, nothing too unusual in that. Except...

  He didn't know why he suddenly reached out and grabbed her by the elbow, stopping the Squad Ops Chief in mid-stride. Indignant at such a liberty, she glared at his hand as if she could incinerate it. The corridor was suddenly empty. They were on the outskirts of the ship checking some damn thing. Not many people came here. But, he knew the rhythm had suddenly changed. Nothing too unusual. But unusual nonetheless. Where was everybody? She scowled, ready to lash out at him. He signaled her quickly to be quiet. She wasn't stupid and moved to put her back against the wall, though puzzled. Ship's personnel had been running around just moments ago. Why were they suddenly so alone? What was making him feel? Exposed? She peered along the corridor. She was taller than he was, and he felt funny standing next to her. He released her, moving silently, away to give himself more freedom. For what, he didn't know. He heard the throb of the X's engines, a faint whine from some fan, a repeating click which he recognized as an electric relay starting to fail.

  Then, there was a faint sound from one of the corners he couldn't see around. It was probably just the X creaking. Probably. They were midway between two T intersections. There was no other exit. He suddenly recognized his feeling. Trapped. This felt like a trap. He tried to shake it off. The sound, it was probably nothing. Yet, there was something not quite right. Hell with it. People already thought pilots were totally nuts. He moved to flick on his comm to call Security. Hi guys, I'm feeling trapped could you come down and rescue me? They'd probably throw his ass right into the brig.

  Her hand stopped him from activating his comm, and she shook her head very slightly. Instead, she reached down and pulled a gun from underneath her pants leg. She smiled wryly when he stared. Concealed weapons were strictly forbidden while on board. What the hell. He pulled a double edged knife from the sleeve sheath of his flight suit. The sheath was a little mod he had made himself. And she could hardly put him on report when she was packing real heat herself, though she did raise an eyebrow at it. The knife was small for easy concealment, but very sharp. He knew how to use it.

  Were those shadows moving very slightly at the intersection on the way to wherever Telli and he were going? She didn't see it. He could tell by the way she continued to stare down in that direction. He gestured back towards the way they'd come, trying to pull her with him.

  She nodded but didn't follow him as he retreated. Instead, she advanced. She wanted to know. Mak wished he had a gun. But there was no place to hide such a weapon on the skin tight uniform. Next time, though, he'd not make that mistake again. They crept down the corridor. There was no cover. If it was an ambush then they were walking right into it. As they approached, he thought Telli's breathing was a little loud. She was a warrior, but not a pilot. Suddenly they heard a lift opening and voices, then running. They dashed around the corner, almost colliding with a few Soldiers. The elevator closed without them seeing anything or anyone. Telli spat a curse.

  The startled men and women stared at their weapons.

  "Move along, Soldiers," Telli told them curtly.

  "Yessir," they said.

  As they passed, one whispered loudly to Mak, "Knife's the wrong weapon if your sweetie's got a gun."

  His buddies laughed and moved off.

  The Soldiers. Their presence lent credence to the rumor that they were invading Kyrzal. Battalions of Soldiers packed all three Dreadnoughts. Too many, thought Mak. While he pilots didn't like the Soldiers, the crew outright despised them. Pilots were just passengers to the crew, an irritant at worst, invisible at best. The Soldiers though, the crew considered them to be an extremely nasty cargo which had to be transported and ejected as soon as humanly possible. The Soldiers returned the sentiment by viewing the crew as nothing more than glorified bus drivers. To them, the pilots didn't even exist.

  Soldiers occupied barracks all over the X. Their troop transports burdened the cargo holds throughout the ship, ready to launch and invade planet-side targets or board enemy vessels. Their huge complemen
t of armored vehicles, weapons, munitions, base equipment, flight and undersea craft, and life support clogged the X, leaking and staining the interior of the giant ship. The Soldiers swaggered around arrogantly treating the crew like the staff of some cruise ship. They didn't give the X the respect she deserved. They damaged the ship with the casual carelessness of bored teenagers, which most of them were. Graffiti was scrawled all over the ship, garbage clogged the hallways, dirt and grime followed wherever they wandered. They were loud, abrasive, and violent. Boredom was handled by fighting amongst themselves, or with the crew, or with whatever was handy. Drugs, porn, and alcohol provided entertainment when violence lost its appeal.

  Other than that, they were a fine and deadly fighting force.

  Blue Box returned home. The docking computers did all the maneuvering in normal operations. If mounting up was filled with tradition and ceremony, finishing was just anticlimactic. He always struggled to get out of the pod and stretch. Recover from the dizziness of not being connected any more. Feel solid ground gravity again. Their next sortie was not for a few more shifts.

  He was tired as were all the Squads. Each had taken their turn at flying Gold Ghosts flight path hoping to find something. Each had tried