by Caleb Fast
“What’s done is done,” Jackson breathes.
“So, where’d you get the battleship?” Trix inquires.
“Well, that’s a bit of a long story,” Jackson says with a chuckle.
“Give me the short version,” Trix instructs, “I’d love to hear the long one later though.”
“Alright,” Jackson agrees. He pauses a moment, likely figuring what parts of the story to cut before continuing, “I was initially captured by the Dreggs, who were going to sell me as a slave. I led an uprising, and me and my people took the small cutter we were in. After a series of fights, we saved a lot more of our people, but we had to turn back because our ship was just about crippled. We ended up crash landing on a planet which had the wreckage of an old Coalition shipyard or something, and that’s where we found the battleship. Luckily, we also found some supplies, and we spent the next few years getting the craft spaceworthy. Once we did, we resumed our work.”
“And where is your crew now?”
“All around here, we all joined the Resistance.”
“What befell your ship?”
“The Resistance decided it would be of more use to them in parts,” Jackson whimpers, clearly still hurt by the decision, “Now there’s pieces of her in all of the larger crafts you see here. They told me most of it went into retrofitting the Audacity, but I still have never seen the ship. My people and I were stationed on the other side of the planet until today.”
“Are you up to the task of captaining the Audacity?”
“I'm confident I can hold my own,”
“Good,” Trix responds relieved as she takes in the sight of the Audacity which had been pummeled over the long years of service it had seen. It also had been converted to hold even more starfighters, at the cost of its weapon systems. The ship’s underbelly reaches the hangar floor, allowing Trix, and the crew, easy access to the lowest flight deck aboard the Audacity. Jackson follows Trix closely, not realizing he just stepped into a starship, odds were he just assumed the lower levels of the carrier were just part of the hangar. The Audacity’s flight deck is open on the port, and starboard sides, so a lot of people cut through it to the other side of the hangar.
“So, how much further?” Jackson asks rising to his tiptoes to see a little further, likely thinking his ship was one of the frigates on the other side of the hangar.
“This is it,” Trix says, motioning around her.
“This?” Jackson looks around, realizing he was in a massive carrier. He starts off in one direction, then another, looking about the beast of a ship that he would captain, “She’s amazing,” he manages breathlessly. He then continues wandering about the flight deck and Trix eases away, eager to get back to waiting for Clive.
Returning to where she had been waiting, Trix sees the transport had already landed, and had even been stripped for parts. She doesn't have to look long before she notices Clive sitting on an empty cargo container, idly watching the crowd of people as they hustle from one place to another. She walks over to him, dodging the occasional hover-sled manned by an unwary pilot. Reaching Clive, she lowers herself next to him, cautiously she starts, “I’m sorry about what happened to Belmont. But you can’t blame yourself.”
“I know, but it's hard not to. Plus, a loss of an ally will always hurt, no matter the circumstance.”
“I know how you feel.”
“Well, that’s that,” Clive says after a loud sigh. He stands abruptly, pausing long enough to help Trix up. Before walking away, he announces, “I’ve got a job to do.”
There goes that moment, Trix thinks sadly as she walks back to the Peril to await the green light. She hadn't even made it back to her ship when the lights that had once glowed orange for the last hour suddenly flicker green and several ships begin roaring out into the acrid smoke that conceals the hangar’s entrance. Swearing, she bolts up the ramp to the Peril and races into the cockpit. As soon as she enters, the engines roar to life and she makes her way to the captain’s chair. She then addresses the crew as she faces the helmsman, “We are in charge of defending the Audacity. Keep it in sight.”
“Roger, Captain,” Comes the quick response from the whole cockpit crew as the ship carefully lifts off the hangar's flight deck. Once the carrier is moving, they gracefully follow the Audacity at a distance Trix would be uncomfortable at, if her crew wasn't as experienced. Fortunately for her, it seemed like this crew was truly one with their ship.
Soon the entire hulking mass of the Audacity disappears into the smoke at the mouth of their hangar and the Peril closely follows its lead. Once they are midway through the smoke column the report they had been fearing comes in over their comm channel, “Coalition emissary fleets have shown up on scanners. They are directly over Antrix and descending rapidly. Do not engage if you see them. Repeat: Do not engage.”
Trix knew that if she and the rest of the Resistance were to fight, it would only incriminate the people of Allur and justify another mass killing like what had happened on her own homeworld. Accessing Antrix’s scanners she monitors the approach of the Coalition starfighters. They don't slow as they race through the clouds in attack formations. Oh no, She thinks as images of the bombings of her own home flash through her head, Slow down! Slow down! She silently pleads the dots on the radar screen. To her relief, at the last moment they slow and break formation. The fighters circle the dome of the city as one larger shuttle makes its way to the landing pad that had previously held the mountain of metal that previously known as the Accolade.
“This is Clive—I mean... Eagle Lead,” Clive’s voice comes in after several beats, “Requesting status of all ships’ fusion warp drives.”
“All systems operational Captain,” Vex informs Trix, “Just hit that button there, to notify Eagle Lead,” she points to a button on Trix’s right.
“Thank you, Vex,” Trix says as she taps the button. She then looks out the port side viewport of the cockpit at the new column of smoke that had been the hangar that Belmont had died in. Antrix was just over the horizon, and now faced a potential armed occupation. She hoped the information Richardson got was worth it. Coalition occupation always meant unnecessary suffering in the name of absolute control.
“We will stop here briefly before continuing on,” Clive say as he reads off some coordinates that will land them several sectors from Strehim, just enough to throw off anyone monitoring the deep space scanners that could pick them up, but not so far that they would waste too much fuel, “We all need to jump to lightspeed at the same time. We only have a brief window once Antrix goes dark. There it goes, on three. One. Two… Three!”
Trix feels herself sink into her seat as they fight against the planet’s gravity and hurtle out into space at lightspeed. In a moment, they shoot through the clouds, and are gone. Trix stands and making her way to a viewport, there she watches several nearby ships. Pinpricks of color race by, representing countless worlds, systems, and galaxies. Finally relaxed, Trix returns to her captain's chair, awaiting the order to pull out of lightspeed.