by Caleb Fast
“I propose we send out a single transport, accompanied by the Straf-180s we stole, when the city goes dark. Have Antrix police fire on them as they fly out. That way, Coalition forces see what they think is my people and I escaping, and they will think the people of Allur didn't welcome us.”
“And who will pilot these?” Irid asks skeptically.
“No one, we can have them flown out remotely.” Clive answers, he had carefully planned everything out.
“What if the Coalition inspects the crash site and finds no bodies?”
“They will, we can plant some bodies from the city morgue into the ships. And we can have the ships crash in, or near, the lava fields to make it impossible to ID the corpses.”
“Gross, but effective,” Trix chimes in on Clive's right. Clive had insisted on Trix’s joining him in the meeting after he had broken the news to her about her friend Srin. Fortunately, she had taken the news fairly well and didn’t miss a beat.
“What about the freighter?” Richardson weakly inquires through a comm link. He was awaiting medevac but had still been patched through. From what Clive had been told, he was already in a ship’s med bay awaiting another surgery.
“We strip it for useful parts and blow the rest to kingdom come.” Clive announces with a smile.
“We can't do that,” Demo says, “That's the main landing platform, Coalition forces will request to land there.”
“We could strip it down and then land it further from the city,” one of the leaders from his meeting with the governor offers, “There we could destroy it, have some of the local garrison heavy tanks take it out.”
“How will we explain how you got the other transport?” Irid asks.
“Make it look like we stole it, along with everything else we are taking,” Clive reasons, imagining how the entire scheme would pan out.
“I like it,” Irid says smiling, “All in favor?”
The rooms filled with sounds of agreement, and with that, the meeting is over. Every leader and their respective teams file out, ready to ensure their part will be done.
“Godspeed, Ranger,” Irid says, with a salute to Clive. As she and her entourage file out behind the rest, she calls over her shoulder, “And Clive, you're in charge of Eagle Fleet. I have to stay here.”
“Godspeed, Irid!” Clive yells back as she disappears. Clive was wondering who would be in charge of the fleet, he had thought it would be Irid, as she captained the flagship, but now he saw the responsibility was his.
“Eagle Fleet is still around?” Richardson's voice crackles over the comm channel, “I thought it was destroyed?”
“No, Richardson, it's alive and well,” Clive announces happily. He had kept tabs on the fleet as long as he had been in the Resistance. He knew the fleet wasn't everything it had once been, but it was still an impressive fighting force.
“Wow, I guess you just can't kill some things,” Richardson remarks.
“The will of the people can never be truly crushed,” Clive says, his father had always said the same thing, and Clive now saw how true the statement was. He continues, “That's how the fleet remains intact. Now get some rest Richardson, no more getting shot this week!”
“Yes, sir,” Richardson's voice comes in, dripping with sarcasm as he cuts the feed.
“What is Eagle Fleet?” Trix asks curiously. Her caretakers had mentioned it a few times, but never any details. She had known some things are best left a secret until you are let in, so she had never pursued finding out what the fleet was.
“It's a secret guarded by thousands, even to their deaths,” Clive answers as he gathers things from the briefing table, “I haven't ever seen it in person, but I've been kept up to date on it.”
“And what is this ship, the Peril that you gave me command of?”
Clive chuckles, “It's quite the cruiser. One of the few ships that has been kept in full working order since the fleet's last fight. You'll love it, I'm sure.”
“But I've never captained a starship before,”
“The crew is very capable, don't worry. I've already briefed them, you're in good hands.”
“Oh,” Trix says saddened.
“What?”
“Nothing,”
Clive gives up on trying to find out what was wrong, knowing he didn't have the time to beat around the bush to find out. As he begins turning for his door, he says “Good luck, Trix”
“Wait,” she says, stopping him.
“What?”
“A kiss for good luck,” She says, wrapping her arms around him in an awkward hug, without hesitating, she gives Clive a peck on the lips. Clive can only get one arm around her because his other is full of his things.
“Alright, I'll catch you at the hangar!” Clive says, squeezing out of Trix’s grasp and making his way to Belmont's hotel to fill him in, since he had slept through the meeting. Clive smiles to himself, treasuring the kiss Trix had just given him. It had been so long since he had been kissed, he had forgotten how good it made him feel. After years of sabotaging every relationship that had begun to form, Clive finally felt the spark of love once again,
•••••••••••••••
“What about my ship!?” Belmont asks for the thousandth time, “We can’t leave without my ship!”
“I told you,” Clive responds, “It’s a lost cause. It’s being stripped down right now. The Coalition is on the lookout for it, you would be space dust the moment they saw you. They have the money for the ship waiting for you at the resistance hangar. A small fortune in Alexandrian Credits, I recommend not passing it up.”
“But my ship…” Belmont moans.
“They have other ships for us. Fast ones. Let's go!” Clive tugs on the Captain and forces him along the narrow pathways beneath the city to the shuttle that would take them to one of the Resistance hangars, far from the city. They eventually find the empty shuttle and pile in, after a quick ride, they are dropped off at an abandon transfer station from the days of Allurian mining. Clive leads his group, following the sound of hundreds of other resistance fighters as they all make their way to one of the hidden hangars that are very famous in the Resistance circles.
Allur’s hangars are the home to the legendary Eagle Fleet which in one manner, or another, had been in action since the dawn of humanity's expansion into the stars. When the civil war between the Coalition and Alexandrians ended, Eagle Fleet’s Admiral, John “Phoenix” Reddigan, betrayed the Coalition forces and single handedly founded the modern Resistance movement. Since then, Eagle Fleet has been the embodiment of the Resistance, and its base has remained undetected by Coalition forces for the nearly forty years.
A few turns later, Clive and his group find themselves in an expansive volcanic cavern with a massive yawning entrance which allows the sooty heat of the planet into the makeshift hangar. Clive had been in this cavern years ago, back then it had been filled with the remains of some Coalition ships that had been salvaged, but now it was virtually empty, minus some fuel tanks that were scattered around the improvised hangar to yield the maximum detonation. There was to be no trace of Eagle Fleet, or the Resistance on Allur, even a hint of its presence would prove to be fatal to millions.
“Over here!” A pilot waves at Clive, Belmont, and a few others from a dated Wegg-05 troop transport, whose sleek hull is scarred from countless small meteor impacts and minor battle damage. The pilot waves more urgently and continues, “You’re the last group. Get over here, we’re blowing the tunnels!”
The group races over to the last shuttle as countless other transports roar out of the cave, toward Eagle Fleet. Sure enough, every other transport was already loaded, and prepping their own departures. Clive and his group make their way up the beaten ramp as a small boy squeezes between them, determined to leave the ship.
“Woah, where are you going?” Clive demands as he firmly grabs the kid, “We gotta go.”
“No,” The kid yells as he squirms and tries to break free, “I need
to manually set off the first explosive, our remote systems are busted.”
“Let an adult do that,” Clive orders as he continues firmly holding the kid, “You’re hardly into your teens.”
“No, it’s my job!” The kid cries as he swings his bulky explosive device around clumsily.
Clive lifts the kid up and brings him into the ship yelling and screaming, “Now where is your triggering device?” He asks as he straps the kid in.
“The man you were with took it,” He admits, peeking around Clive and watching as Belmont jogs over to the pile of fuel canisters and explosives.
Clive stands and spins around as the shuttle lifts off. He looks at the man who had brought him his freedom, “Belmont!” He yells as loud as he can. He tries to run out after the man, but several Resistance soldiers hold him back. Clive watches as they fly out of the cavern and sees the captain turn and give a quick wave. And then, he was gone.
The mouth of the cave spits plumes of fire as the explosion burns so hot the surrounding stone melts into magma. Clive watches as a large portion of the surface collapse in on the cave. Smoke billows into the sky in a cloud darker than night. Clive collapses into the seat behind him as the ramp slides shut, sealing off the transport. The escapees all sit in silence as Clive sits heartbroken at the loss of a man whom he had intended on befriending. He knew my father, and felt he owed me. He literally gave me and my boys everything, Clive thinks dismayed, And all I did was take from him. I took his ship, then sold it, his death is on my hands.
“We’re home free now, boss!” T’s triumphant voice calls over the comm channel to Clive, “We can hardly wait for your arrival, sir.”
Clive reaches up to the comm link in his ear and turns it off. He leans back into the troop transport's bench, he dozes as they hurtle toward the waiting fleet.
Eleven
Sector 11, Allur
Trix watches from the cockpit viewport of her cruiser the Peril which she had been given command over. The hangar below buzzes with life as final preparations are made for every ship, including her own. The Peril wasn’t the biggest ship, but Trix was content that Clive trusted her enough to put her in charge of the powerful, and nimble, cruiser. All around, people run from one point to another, picking up and delivering munitions, fuel, and cargo. Groups of women and children are guided to the larger shuttles, which are serving as transports rather than warships. She looks up to the catwalks that crisscross the tall converted hangar, that was in fact a massive refining facility that had been abandoned many years ago. She watches as a group of mechanics leap from the catwalks to a nearby ship which was in need of some last-minute repairs. At the front of the hangar is an elaborate maze of catwalks that made up the command platform and house the hangar’s high command. Officers and technicians frantically work on the computers there, arranging everything for takeoff.
Trix watches as a group of beings march over toward her in an impressive formation that seamlessly flows through the bustling commotion all around. The one in front appeared to be a woman in full combat armor, which is painted a charcoal black with fiery orange accents. Trix notes that the design matches the rest of the woman’s team, and the paintjob of the agile cruiser Trix was in. They quickly disappear underneath the cockpit, evidently intent on boarding. Trix listens attentively as boots thud up the ramp onto the small ship. Over the cruiser's comms she hears the crew receive orders to disperse around the ship and man their stations. Trix quickly races over to the primary controls and pretends to be busing herself with the preflight checks. She didn't want to look completely incompetent when the crew finally arrived. Dutifully tapping several buttons, Trix pulls up the ship’s specs and other information that seem important.
“Ah, you must be Miss Callaghan,” A feminine voice calls from behind Trix, causing her to jump, “Name’s Vex, at your service.”
“Nice to meet you,” Trix says turning to face the woman. She studies the one who went by Vex for a moment. She was tall and appears to be a mix of the reptilian Toa, and human. Vex’s gloved hand that holds her helmet appears to be webbed, much like the Toaz, but she had no tail, and her facial features, and eyes were undeniably human. Her scaled skin glistens against the lights in the cockpit. Trix realizes she was staring and quickly turns back to examining the specs.
“You know we can take over from here, ma’am,” Vex informs Trix, noticing that she couldn’t understand most of the information before her, “All you need to do is sit back, relax, and enjoy the ride. I’m the lieutenant aboard the Peril, second only to you.”
“Thank you, please do,”
“Very well,”
Standing, Trix goes about checking things she could actually understand. She makes her way to the engineer station and checks the various gauges, she had a knack for anything that moved and had an engine. As for the software and controls, everything was foreign. Her caretakers had taught her how to repair vehicles, from agriculture and construction equipment, to military vehicles and starships. They wanted her to be knowledgeable in most every aspect, that way she would be able to be the leader Secora Four needed. She quickly finds everything at the engineer station to be in order and quietly returns to the viewport.
“Final shuttle arriving. Need medevac.” An officer reports over the base comm-channel.
Relieved for the excuse to leave, Trix makes her way out of the cockpit, and toward the landing area. Clive and Belmont are supposed to be on this flight and she wanted to be waiting for them to help things along, and to meet Clive, since he promised he'd meet her there. She weaves in and out of the crowd, occasionally cutting between or underneath starships awaiting takeoff. She soon finds herself with a group of Belmont’s crew and several of Richardson’s and Clive’s people. She works her way to the front of the group and watches for Clive at the last empty spot in the hangar.
“Trix Callaghan,” The authoritative voice of an officer calls from the command platform above her.
Looking up, she sees him waving for her to come. Irritated, she squeezes back out of the crowd, and finds the nearest ladder, swiftly she makes her way up. She stomps down the narrow catwalks and weaves her way around the sweaty beings, who are busy at their work. She takes a left at the first fork in the catwalks and -to her relief- finds herself next to the man who had called to her. She taps his shoulder maybe a little harder than necessary and asks, “What is it?”
“Here,” The officer says, handing her the transceiver he had been using.
“Trix here,” She barks.
“Trix,” Clive voice comes in over the static, instantly easing her high-strung nerves, “I need you to assign a new captain for the ship Belmont was going to pilot.”
“Why?”
“He’s dead.”
“What? How?”
“He chose to seal the hangar back in Antrix. He died in the blast.”
“I’m sorry.” Trix says, saddened by the death of her new ally. She considers continuing her largely one-sided conversation, but, hearing Clive cut his link, she decides he wasn't about to engage in any unnecessary dialogue. She sets down the transceiver and quickly goes about making arrangements for Belmont’s ship on the HoloLink she had been given, tapping away on the device strapped to her wrist. She makes her way back to the group from the Accolade below, and addresses them, “Listen up everyone! I have bad news.”
“Bad news?” Someone asks alarmed, others chime in voicing concerns until everyone was shouting.
“What is it!?” Another demands.
“Did they not make it?” A voice cries.
“Quiet down!” Trix yells, “Quiet!”
“Shut it!” T shouts nearby, ensuring that everyone heard Trix’s demand.
The roar quickly subsides, and all eyes fall on Trix. Absolute silence falls on that part of the hangar, even the youngest children grow still. She continues, “Captain Belmont is dead,” A few scattered whimpers sound from those that knew the man, “Clive told me we need a new captain for the Audacity. Do I h
ave any volunteers?”
“What happened?” A small child near the front asks with her hand raised.
“He won't be coming to us because he gave up his chance to get out to save us all,” Trix answers the kid as kindly as she could, “He sealed the hangar back in Antrix, that’s all I know.”
Again, silence falls over the crowd. Some mourn, others await a volunteer. Trix searches the crowd for any volunteer, “You there! In the back!” She calls to a man who wore an almost blacker-than-black flight suit who has his hand raised, “Get over here,”
“Yes, ma’am,” The man calls back as he begins pushing his way to the front of the crowd.
Trix continues to the crowd around her, “Everyone else, let’s get back to work! We need off this planet pronto. We don’t want Belmont’s sacrifice to be in vain.”
The crowd disperses as everyone returns to work, making up for lost time, the man in the black flight suit continues working his way through the clamoring beings racing around Trix. He finally pulls alongside her as she makes her way to the Audacity,
“Reporting for duty,” He says trying to sound like a professional soldier. He continues more casually after shooting Trix a sidelong look, and noting she was unimpressed by him, “I’m Jackson Ryder. I ran my own… business before the Coalition took complete control over this part of the galaxy. I’ve been stranded in this system ever since they incapacitated my ship. Thought it would be better to be stranded with a cause, and get some money in my pocket, than just stranded, so I joined the Resistance.”
“I see,” Trix says, rather uninterestedly as the massive hull of the Audacity fills her field of vision, she then inquires, “So what did you do in this so called ‘business’?”
“I captained a battleship for the better portion of my years, hunting down the Dregg Pirates. My crew and I were the last survivors of our home planet, after the Dreggs attacked. The rest of our people were either killed or enslaved.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Trix frowns, she had heard of many stories like this happening in the furthest reaches of the Galaxy.