Free Fleet Box Set 1

by Michael Chatfield

  I really didn’t care; it meant she now couldn’t kill me, taking the saying keep your friends close and your enemies closer to a new level. Mine would be sharing a sleeping pod with me and be my fighting partner on whatever battlefields we found ourselves.

  My mind was already filled with ways she was going to kill me; hopefully it’d be quick and faster than a plasmid sword to the damned stomach. I shook my head. Looking up, one of a multitude of hatches opened. More medical chairs came out of the floor.

  “Please leave the medical bay and proceed to the marriage hall,” a toneless voice said from hidden speakers.

  “Shall we?”

  She didn’t reply, her face a mask similar to the one I wore as I fought with emotions that I would be forever linked to this woman by my first marriage. She quickly pushed off the medical chair and went through the only open doorway. I studied her from behind, trying to figure out what she was thinking as we walked through the hatch.

  We were in a single room with hangers on either side. On one there was a black suit and tie with a white shirt. I looked at it almost painfully. For the girls out there, here’s a secret. Guys like dressing up. Strange—I know how much we complain about it, but we like it. The reason I looked at it painfully was not because it was a suit, but because it had a tie and was not tailored for me at all. A man has to have style, especially at his own wedding. I ran my hand over my pin prickle hair, my top and shaved sides gone as I looked like thousands of military recruits who had come before me.

  Yasu’s side had a white kimono and white belt. Much more elegant-looking than my suit.

  “Keep your eyes on your own side.” She pulled the kimono off its holder.

  “Wouldn’t think about it.” Well, of course I was thinking about it now that she’d said it! I’m a guy and she wasn’t exactly unappealing to the eye. Plus, well, she was my wife. But, being the gentleman I am, I kept to myself until I got to the tie. I’d done all I could for the suit but it was just not my style.

  After three failed attempts, I left the tie on the rack.

  “You done?” I said, still facing my side.

  “Yes. Seems you can’t tie a tie.”

  “Well, can you?” I turned around and found her leaning back, her arms crossed as she wore a black kimono symbolizing death or tragedy within her family.

  “How did you turn it...?”

  “Why, yes, I can.” She leaned past me and grabbed the tie. “Hold still.” She popped my collar more violently than I’d seen some punches thrown. My neck felt battered as she pulled the tie around my neck.

  I got a smack for looking down and a reproving glare as I returned my stare to the ceiling. Then, with a quick pull, I found my airway restricted. I muffled a cough and she undid it slightly. I caught the small smile on her face as she finished with a few flicks of her hands, letting it fall on my open vest and pulled my collar down.

  “Good.”

  “Now, why the black kimono?”

  “It’s the death of my freedom.”

  I nodded. I couldn’t deny that. “Well, anyway, it looks good on you.” This got me a glare; I grinned as I offered my arm. “Well, shall we?”

  “Yes.” She walked ahead of me, ignoring my arm as she walked through the door into a room filled with people dressed in bizarre ways; she took a seat, forcing me to follow her. Rick quickly found his way over to us, Marleen in tow.

  I hid my laugh behind my fist at the odd pair. Rick had put on muscular weight and widened considerably, but there was still the endurance greyhound look to the man, whereas Marleen, although not as wide as Rick, looked as if she could clean press a small family minivan.

  His eyes went wide looking at us.

  “Close your mouth, dear,” Marleen hissed.

  “So how did your fight go?” I asked Marleen, smiling and looking away as Rick went red.

  “Well, I submitted. Don’t tell anyone, okay, boss?” Rick answered as Marleen smiled behind him.

  “What about you two?” Marleen asked.

  “I stabbed him and the idiot punched me,” Yasu said simply as I winced.

  “What!?” Marleen gave me a glare that threatened to burn through my skull.

  “Let’s just say Cupid’s aim was off and he used a sword instead of an arrow,” I said simply, touching my still healing wound. We spent the rest of the time in silence as we watched who’d been paired up.

  What the hell have I gotten myself into this time? I looked at Yasu in my peripherals. She was as stiff as a board. The black kimono looked more appropriate on her than a white one would’ve. Her face was serene, but I knew that she was warring with the same things I was. Without thinking, I put my hand on hers. She looked at me as if I stabbed her, ripping her hands out from under mine. I hid the pain that lanced through me as I looked to the front, my mask descending. We would be married in name and nothing else, I resolved, hunching my shoulders. I was still alone, as always—no matter my outward appearance.

  Angry with myself at thinking I could have anything more than loneliness, I looked to the front and moved away from Yasu.

  A New Reality

  Yasu looked at the mirror in the attached bathroom of the couples pod.

  She was furious at herself. She should’ve reacted faster, pulling her blade out of him, but he’d grabbed her and the look in his eyes, the raw trust and acceptance of who she was, had stopped her. It felt as if he could see her very soul; he could accept it and would do so. She’d been so stunned; she’d only known she was trapped when their Mechas had smashed into each other.

  He’d brought her close, so close she could feel the heat of his breath. Seeing the blood on his lips had made her remember what was happening as she tried to pull the sword out of him.

  She wanted to stop; she remembered the feeling, that for some reason she didn’t want to hurt him. That she wanted him to survive. How she wanted to do anything to make sure he was never in pain again. She’d held onto the blade, making sure it moved as little as possible as he pulled her down, proposing to her.

  She’d been in near panic as he smashed off her helmet and then looked at her with those eyes. Her panic vanished as she looked back at him. His warm touch made her realize her loneliness—how she missed her father, her comrades, even the crazy Sato sisters.

  Tears filled her eyes. She touched the place where his hand had been. The feeling of having another person touch her with affection, even with her deadly abilities—her training said she shouldn’t care about those things, but the human in her longed for acceptance.

  She remembered the punch. It was perfectly lined up to knock her out with the least amount of force. It had felt like a kiss compared to the hits she’d taken in training.

  She wasn’t hurt that he’d done it; he was a warrior doing what he needed to do. She was annoyed at herself for not reacting to his hold and knocking him out first. She’d come to, watching as the black arms of the medical table had worked furiously. She’d been mesmerized and terrified as they fought to keep him alive.

  Then, as they looked as if they’d barely finished their work, he was pulled back together and a needle administered to his neck as his clamps were released.

  The way he cringed and the look of his wound made her doubt that the machines had been completely finished. She winced as he got up and moved, trying to look as though he wasn’t wounded. Then it seemed like a switch was thrown and a mask descended on his face and he straightened, as if he were perfectly fine. She remembered how she’d taken in his muscular body and front cover, a perfect appearance despite his new scars, quickly looking away in embarrassment as she collected herself.

  She’d questioned him and his honor, attacking him, instead of asking whether he was okay. A lifetime of making walls and learning how to deal with the next opponent had made her speech like a fight. If she wasn’t in a position of power, she would fight to attain it. As soon as she talked, she saw his mask entombed him. It had cracked as she’d cursed him for having the power ove
r everyone, for trusting everyone as she couldn’t, placing her issues upon him.

  She’d been stunned by what he said. She remembered his upbringing. He’d been an orphan, part of the system filled with bullies. He had to act a certain way to not be bullied and beaten up. She had learned her mistrust of others by watching her father in the business world. She’d learned to read people and could see how so many humans lied and how few actually told the truth.

  She’d seen the truth in Salchar’s face—no, James’s face—as he dropped his mask, revealing his worries to her like a floodgate. She gripped her battle suit. What was this feeling she felt—empathy? No, she didn’t have such feelings. Yet still she knew the anger he directed at himself for his thoughts of only keeping himself alive. Thoughts she had no doubt that everyone had at one point in their training. Even as he looked away, hiding his eyes, she saw in his body language how much he wanted to free those who had suffered under the Planetary Defense Force.

  She wanted to tell him that it would never work, but then he’d looked into her eyes, and somehow she knew that once Salchar said he would do something, he would do it. As he asked her to marry him, her shock overrode her brain, it seemed, as she snapped out a response.

  Anger burned through her at herself as she remembered how she’d knocked away his consoling hand. The way his face had gone completely emotionless and he moved away from her, showing less emotion than a rock. How could she be so emotionless?

  The holographic pastor signaled for her and Salchar to come forward.

  He didn’t offer his arm again as they walked up to the altar and a holographic pastor in front of them, saying the phrases in Japanese and Korean for them both. Salchar had looked above her head, not wanting to meet her eyes, as they were made to face each other. It had hurt more than when she’d been punched as she looked at his chest, keeping her face impassive. His voice held no emotion as they went through the rites. Hers didn’t either after years of practice from public affairs, hiding the inner pain she felt. Her eyes had searched for his, to look at her for her to understand what was going through his mind.

  She found herself for once wanting to know what another was feeling. It’s not empathy; you’re just trying to find out his weaknesses, she reasoned, thinking of how he flaunted his dishonorable wins as if they were true victories, which quickly brought back her cold anger.

  Once the ceremony was completed, everyone had applauded and color filled her cheeks, which she suppressed. Salchar grinned, his apparent happiness not reaching his eyes as he guided her down the aisle without actually touching her. They’d gone through the hatch at the end of the aisle, Salchar’s mask still in place as they followed a corridor, going inside the only open door, which closed behind them. He lay down on the bed, raising his legs to release the pressure on his scars as she found refuge in the bathroom, trying to understand what exactly had happened to her that day.

  After a few minutes of mental battles, she gave up and took a shower. It still smelled as bad as ever but the bathroom had two towels, which she put to use, luxuriating in how they felt, tucking one around her. She walked out drying her hair, finding Salchar fast asleep on the bed.

  She quickly turned off the light, finding near darkness, the first time that she’d ever felt her eyes relax from the strain of looking through the weird atmosphere and lighting the training facility had.

  Her eyes quickly adjusted and she could pick out the details of Salchar’s face. How many plans did he have in that mind of his? Had he planned for this? Despite what he’d said about riding by the seat of his pants, it seemed he was five steps ahead of everyone. She squatted by his head, studying him. His face looked troubled and she touched it. The roughness of his five o’clock shadow rubbed against her hand.

  He moved into her hand, pressing his face against it firmly. Her breath caught in her throat; the trust he was placing in her filled her. She studied his features closely; she could see the lack of sleep indicators. He’d slept as little as possible while being in the squad pod. Her eyes traveled down as she studied him. Any softness from before had been turned into hardened muscle. He looked like an Olympic god. She moved her hand away slowly, still studying him.

  She turned and moved to the bed, arranging her pillow so she looked at Salchar. She watched as his powerful chest rose and fell. Her eyes became heavy as she let sleep take her.

  ***

  I awoke with a start, immediately scanning the room for a threat. I relaxed seeing there was no one who was going to try to kill me immediately, and Yasu was asleep. I caught myself, turning back as I looked at her face turned toward me. It was the first time I remembered her looking peaceful. I lay there, studying her face, her hair framing it. I allowed myself a small smile as I picked myself up.

  I paused as I grabbed a battle suit from the built-in closet in our room. I’d slept, truly slept, for the first time since I’d been abducted. Without the fear of someone killing me. It was odd as I tried to understand why, why I hadn’t been scared of Yasu killing me in my sleep. I was becoming too complacent, I put it down to. Maybe in my loneliness I was beginning to trust, or want to trust others.

  That was something that I couldn’t do. I chastised myself as I heard movement behind me. I turned to find an awake and alert Yasu staring daggers at me.

  “Don’t worry, I’m just taking a shower and getting dressed,” I said, not knowing why I was justifying myself.

  Her eyes seemed to get colder than anything as she got out of bed wearing a towel, her hair covering part of her face. I felt the odd urge to hold her; she looked so delicate, so strong and so appealing. I walked to the head instead, taking a long shower, delicately working around my still painful stomach wound. I studied it, annoyed the med bay hadn’t fully healed me. I resolved Yasu and I needed to talk one-on-one and sort out whatever relationship we were in.

  “Yasu,” I said, emerging from the head.

  She turned to me as Taleel’s voice came through the walls. “Assemble in the squad pod.” The door we’d walked in through after the wedding ceremony opened again. Finally, we just had one door to contest with.

  I sighed in frustration as I made my way to the door.

  “What were you saying?” Yasu said, waiting for me.

  “We’ll talk about it later.” Along the way, we met up with other members of our squad who joined our route, which seemed to connect all of our couples pods.

  All of us had different emotions as we walked in with our partners and now team member. It varied from me and Yasu’s utter confusion at each other, to Hoi and Abella.

  Hoi had a large smile plastered on his face as he walked with Abella, seemingly melted to him as she said things into his ear, a happy smile on her own face. When everyone was gathered, Taleel spoke.

  “All right, now you’ve had your fun. Today you’ll be given your berths on the Planetary Defense Force ships with your new partners.”

  “What about training with rifles? Strategy, zero-g training?”

  “You will learn to adapt on the battlefield—or not.”

  A chill went down my spine. It’s like we’re the Russians with one holding bullets, the other the rifle. If you survive, then you might be useful.

  I stopped looking at anyone else in the room as all of my attention was now focused on Taleel.

  “You will be given spots on different classes of ships of the PDF navy, which you will defend and live on until the end of your service or, like me, you re-enlist. I will now list your new berths. And remember this: your commanders will have your kill switches. One wrong step and you will be killed whether inside a Mecha or in your bare skin. First, James and Yasu, you will be assigned to the Imperial Dreadnought Golden Refuge. Lucky you, she’s the only one of her class.”

  I was stunned. Yesterday, I was married; today, I was being given a berth on a ship I knew nothing about, was being separated from my squad who I’d finally built up a reputation with and I didn’t feel I had barely enough training.


  “Look after yourselves and I hope to see you all soon,” I said with the mask of Salchar. My mind showed me how my plans had fallen apart as I gave a lazy two-finger salute, the rest of them facing me as they returned the gesture.

  “Good luck, Commander Salchar,” Rick said. “Now give me your data pad, quickly.” I did so with a curious look as he tapped it to his and transferred something.

  “It’s a way to chat.” He handed it back and put his own pad in the pouch on the small of his back.

  “I hope that I see you in the near future and I’ll give it a go.” With that I turned, following Yasu already waiting near the hatch that would lead us to the dreadnought Golden Refuge. She took off again, making me have to half jog to catch up with her—not even giving me time to process what had happened as I ran into my future, back to nothing.

  The Golden Refuge

  We came into a room with people steadily filing in in twos. We stepped into the straight lines, which showed ranks and columns of a formation. Quickly, the room filled and I found my eyes wandering to the only wall that wasn’t covered with the silvery material that could form doors at will. I found myself looking at a single large door and two glass windows, one of which looked out into space. The stars were so much brighter without the interference of an atmosphere. The other window showed the business end of a shuttle, from what I remembered of my sleep training.

  “Begin boarding the shuttle, rear first,” a voice said, sounding bored, as if they were working at a fast-food restaurant as we followed the instructions. The large hatch opened, revealing rows of seating, the formation moving as people filled the shuttle. From my sleep learning and my guesses, I estimated that the shuttle carried two hundred people.

  I followed Yasu, looking around as I picked out people I’d played against in the arena. The inside of the shuttle didn’t show anything of the space outside as we strapped ourselves in as if we’d ridden shuttles a hundred times—thanks to our sleep training.