Pursuing Dreams (The Young Soldier Book 1)

by MK Clark

  “Speed of one-fifty reached and holding,” Jillian announced.

  “Speed of one five zero verified and matched by the convoy, Captain. ETA to jump gate is one minute twenty seconds. Formation is steady.”

  “Thank you, Jimmy. Coordinate the final minute with the rest of the convoy, if you please.”

  “Yes, Captain,” Dukes answered.

  In the silence that followed, Don found his fingers itching for something to do. Having never been on the Morning Star’s bridge during any activity, this was his first experience hearing things he would normally hear in his cockpit.

  “All ships, this is the Mina. We will be passing through the jump gate in one minute and counting.”

  Don looked over at small radar by Jillian. As his eyes flitted from one dot to the next, he was left wondering at what the chatter was between his fellow pilots. He found it strange that the absence of their familiar voices left him feeling removed and out of place.

  “Twenty seconds.”

  “All crew, this is the captain. Please prepare for A-Stream entry in twenty and counting.” There was a slight pause, and then Don heard the captain say his name. “Pull up a piece of floor and latch onto a rail. I would hate for one of our guests to be injured at the very beginning of this venture.”

  Don nodded. He moved to the wall behind Jillian and took hold of stairs railing.

  “Ten, nine, eight…”

  He slid down to the floor, fighting the instinct to hold his breath as Dukes continued to count.

  “…two, one.”

  There was a moment of static charge that crackled in the air of the small ship. Then Don’s body slammed back against the ship's wall. Slowly, Don felt the gees pushing against his limbs begin to wear off as the gravity buffer within the ship began to counter the sudden change of speeds. It wasn’t long before he was able to pull himself to a standing position, although, not all the force could be shaken off.

  “Jimmy, please check in with the other ships. Spares, how goes it?”

  Jillian pushed a few buttons and scanned her readings before she turned to face the captain. “She’s flying beautifully, Captain, not shaken in the least.”

  “Very good. That was a splendid job done.”

  “You do pay me what you pay me for a reason, Captain.”

  “Aye, a matter you are so kind to constantly remind me of.”

  “All ships in the convoy are in good shape, Captain. No problems to account for.”

  “Thank you, Jimmy.”

  Don bit his lip as he fought off the urge to ask about his comrades, knowing that the Cobra’s gravity buffer was much smaller than that of many ships. He would question them later on how the stream affected their ability to fly.

  “Thank you for your patience, Mr. O’Hara.”

  “Not at all, Captain Hendricks.”

  “Dukes, you have the bridge. Mr. O’Hara, if you will follow me, I’ll show you to your quarters.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  The captain waited for him to climb up from the lower level and ushered him from the bridge. “It really is pleasure to have you aboard, O’Hara. I knew your mother. She was quite a woman.”

  Don turned, surprised by his words. “My mother?”

  Captain Hendricks nodded. “Yes. That was quite a long time ago, of course. Ten years or so, I believe. Very intelligent, your mother.”

  Don stood, mouth slightly open, not sure what to say. He’d never heard anyone speak of his mother. Anyone at all, even his father. “I’m sorry, I―”

  The captain put a hand on his shoulder. “No apology necessary. I startled you. I should have been more graceful in approaching the subject.” He directed Don to continue.

  Don forced his feet to move, although what he really wanted was to question the man further.

  “What happened to your mother was a tragedy.”

  Don tried to ignore the niggling at that back of his mind, encouraging him to pursue the subject further. “No more a tragedy than for any child who has lost a parent in the war, and less so for me. I don’t really remember her.” Don spoke in a casual tone, hoping that it would conceal how unsettled he’d become. “I don’t really know what I’m missing.”

  “Of course,” the captain conceded. “So the rumors are true then? You don’t remember anything?”

  “No, but I was very young, I suppose I have forgotten.” Don heard the footsteps behind him stop, and he glanced back.

  “Here we are.” The captain smiled.

  Don backtracked and found himself looking into a very small room.

  “If we should find ourselves in a bind, the launch pad is down this hall to your left, and up the stairs. I would advise your helmet be on before exiting the ship halls, as the docking bay may be damaged at such a time and unable to provide a stable environment.”

  Don nodded his understanding.

  “I must find my way back to the bridge now. It was good to see you again, son. I look forward to speaking with you more.”

  “Again, Captain?”

  Captain Hendricks frowned. “Unless, of course, you are ill-disposed to a conversation with me.”

  “No, sir. Sorry, sir,” Don amended. “You said it was good to see me again. We have met before?”

  “Oh, yes.” The captain smiled. “Seven is not so young. I had thought you might remember, but apparently, I was wrong.”

  Don’s frown deepened. “I see. I am sorry,Captain, but―.”

  The captain shook his head. “Don’t worry, I’m not offended. Now, then, I will take my leave, O’Hara.”

  Don nodded and watched in silence as the captain walked the narrow hall. He had already begun to wrack his brain for any memory he might have of this man, but he found none. Entering his small quarters, Don set his helmet on the bed and sank down beside it.

  So many questions filled his thoughts as the niggling at the back of his mind moved to the front. How was it that this man talked so freely of his mother, when Don had hardly heard her name whispered? Why had Don and his father never met with the man after his mother’s death? Then again, as Don thought back on what was said, he realized the captain had never said anything about knowing General O’Hara.

  There was a knock at the door, and Don looked up. Jillian leaned against the door frame, smiling. “Hey, kiddo, the captain has the next shift. Thought I might take you down to the engine room. You seemed to enjoy yourself enough on the bridge.”

  “Yes, I did. Like the captain said, it was educational.”

  Jillian cocked an eyebrow.

  “The chatter is different,” he said with a shrug.

  “I suppose it is,” she answered thoughtfully. “If you’d like, I can speak to the captain about coming up again later.”

  “I would like that.”

  “Now, about the engine?”

  Don stood with a nod. He had nothing better to do for the next seven or so hours. “I’d be happy to. Learn me anything you’d like about your Mina.”

  “There’s a sport.” Jillian grinned and clapped him on the shoulder.

  It did not take long to reach the engine room on the small ship. Jillian didn’t enter right away, but poked her head through the door to scan the room. “Charlie Horse? Are you in here?” There was a long silent pause, and Jillian’s mouth twisted to the side. “Hmm, no answer… although, I promise you, she’s here.”

  She motioned Don through into the noisy, crowded room. Moments later, they heard a clatter and a curse.

  “Told you,” Jillian whispered, and then said louder, “Charles, come out here now, will you?”

  A greasy head popped out from a hole beneath a large portion of what Don assumed was the engine. “How many times do I have to tell you not to call me that god-awful name?”

  Jillian shrugged. “It’s the only way to get you to peek out from your haunt, and I’d have hated to disappoint our guest.”

  The other woman narrowed her eyes at Don. “Who the hell are you?”

  “Don
O’Hara, ma’am,” he answered, raising his voice to be heard above the engine noise. “I’m an airman from the Morning Star.”

  She appraised him for a little longer, and then pointed to her left, “Well, if you can fly, I suppose you can walk and talk. God knows Spares can. Hand me that doohickey with the bent end.”

  Don started in surprise at the request.

  Her scowl deepened. “Now, boy! I haven’t got all day.”

  Don quickly began to make his way over to the tools. He stood for a moment, trying to decide which “doohickey” she was referring to; it could have been any one of five! He grimaced, and reached for one.

  “Not that one! The other one!”

  He managed to select the right tool and carefully climbed back over to where she waited. She disappeared beneath the floor as soon as the tool was in her hand. Don turned to the door. Jillian gave him a thumbs-up.

  “What do you fly?” Charlie asked from below, her words slightly muffled.

  “A Cobra, ma’am,” Don said, angling his face so that his answer might reach her down below.

  “Not your plane, boy!”

  Don made a face as she named his fighter, almost with a disgusted tone, as a plane.

  “Your engine!”

  “Sorry?” Don looked back at Jillian confused. She merely smirked. Don had a sinking feeling that she had somehow set him up.

  “What engine do you fly?”

  Don was still looking at Jillian. “What is this?” he mouthed.

  “A lesson,” she answered.

  “Boy!”

  Don fell backwards out of his crouch as Charlie poked her head out of her hole.

  “An answer today, please!”

  “Right,” he said shakily. “Well, it’s a Cobra engine. So, um, plasma-powered, five radial thrusters.”

  “You don’t know, do you?”

  “I know a little!”

  “Which means nothing at all.” Don simply stared at her, not quite sure what to say. “If you expect to be a good pilot, you ought to know how your own damn engine works! Now, my vertical stabilizer shook loose as we entered the A-Stream. That’s what I’m working on now. I’ll try to remember you know nothing, and explain as we work. There’s an extra grease suit on the wall. You’ll want to put that on.”

  Chapter 18

  July 21, 626 T.A.

  Don exhaled slowly, basking in the silence of the cockpit for just a few seconds more. Then he popped the hatch of his Cobra. His shift with his flight was over. Nothing had disturbed the stillness of space, as predicted, and soon the convoy would return to the A-Stream. It was as Lauden had said. There was no reason for him or anyone in Kyomo’s flight to be here. Still, Don was getting his first chance to fly in weeks, so he was happy, mostly.

  Once inside the ship’s belly, Don pulled off his helmet. He pushed back damp bangs and headed immediately to his quarters. He saw none of the crew, but he wasn’t in the mood for conversation, so he didn’t mind. Don had just closed the door when he heard the captain’s voice over the intercom. He sank down into the chair bolted to his floor, buckled himself in, and waited. It wasn’t long before he felt the Mina enter the A-Stream.

  He spent a few silent moments wondering what he should do. With no possessions, no simulators, and no duties, Don was at a loss. His eyes shut as he considered his options, and despite himself, he found he was fatigued. It surprised him a little when he realized it had been almost twelve hours since they had first made contact with the Mina. Even though he had flown very little, the time must have been passing faster than he thought.

  The crew, mostly Charlie, had kept him fairly busy, although he had also spent time with Jillian on the bridge, as promised. She had shown him the basics for piloting the Mina, as well as revealing some of the differences between flying a small fighter and a larger ship.

  This was perhaps the first time since arriving on the Mina when he had been left completely alone. He allowed a small smile to flash across his face in appreciation of their friendship.

  Decision now made, Don unbuckled his restraints. After placing his helmet carefully within reach, he flopped onto the small bed. He was asleep in minutes, and for the first time in a while, he dreamed.

  Sergeant Cohan was shouting at him. He didn’t know why. Cohan turned into General O’Hara, and Don knew he was in trouble. He began to run. He was running from his father. Why? Don stopped and turned. The general was giving out orders. “Find Don and bring him back!”

  A hand touched his shoulder. Don looked up to see Captain Hendricks. The man beckoned to him, half pulling, half coaxing Don into a shadowed corner. “Hide,” the man told him. “Hide and don’t come out, no matter what.” Then he left, and Don was alone. Shots rang out, and Don was terrified. His whole body shook. I need a weapon, he thought. I need to fight. I can fight! But he couldn’t make himself move. He was frozen in fear. Frozen? He was never frozen when it came to fighting. What was going on? Sounds were fading, faces were fading, and still he couldn’t move. He wanted to scream, “Mother! Mother, save me.” Mother? Why mother? Finally, there was nothing and no one left.

  He awoke, shaken, unsure of his surroundings. He realized he was half-standing, his helmet already in his hand.

  “Easy, boy.”

  Don looked toward the door. Charlie was standing there. He straightened and, recognizing that no sirens or warnings were sounding, set his helmet down.

  “Just coming to see if you wanted some grub. It’s been a few hours since we last entered the A-Stream, and I don’t recall you having eaten since you been here.”

  He didn’t answer her immediately. His mind was still slowly releasing him from battle mode. As it did, Don became aware of a trembling in his hands, no doubt left over from his dream. He clenched his fists and then nodded, more in understanding than affirmation.

  “You’re tense,” she stated.

  Don didn’t say anything immediately. He’d learned she didn’t really expect him to unless she asked a direct question. “What time did you say it is?” he inquired.

  “I didn’t, but its 0600.”

  He’d been asleep for a little over three hours. Not very long. He had two more hours till he was on standby, and then he wouldn’t get another chance to sleep for eight hours. Don grimaced. Not counting his three-hour nap, he’d already been up for twelve hours. He’d be useless if he had to fly. Don smiled politely and shook his head. “No, thanks. I’ll eat when I’m on standby.”

  “Got it,” Charlie said, and then added before leaving, “Try a more pleasant dream this time.”

  Don grimaced again, and then sighed as he lay back down. Sleep would not come easily now, at least, not with that dream hanging in his thoughts. When he did sleep, he was very careful not to drift in too deeply, and not to dream at all.

  Two hours later, he was called to the bridge. They had exited the stream once more. Since neither Don nor any of the others in his flight would be spending any time in their Cobras this shift, Kyomo wanted to check up on all of them. Afterward, Don excused himself to the mess. He was now very hungry. Jillian and Dukes were not far behind him.

  “Captain says when you’re done, you’re welcome to join him on the bridge. He’s got the next shift.”

  Don nodded and continued to eat as the two crew members sat down beside him with their own plates of food.

  “Long time, no see,” Dukes said. “I hear Jillian’s been keeping you busy.”

  “Not me!” Jillian interrupted. “Charles is.”

  “At your prodding,” Dukes said pointedly.

  Don’s eyes flickered over to the man, and he shared a quick smile with him. “It’s all right. She’s nice enough, and I’ve learned a lot.”

  “Nice?” Jillian said incredulously. “She’s nice?”

  Dukes leaned forward a little. “We are talking about Charlie, right?”

  Don laughed. “Yes, we are, and yes, she’s nice enough. She’s no fairy godmother, but she genuinely cares, I think.”
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  Jillian seemed to re-appraise him. “You know, Jimmy, I like this kid more and more.” Dukes nodded, but Jillian’s eyes narrowed a little. “No way we could convince you to hang around?”

  Don glanced from Jimmy to Jillian. Jimmy rolled his eyes at her.

  “Oh, shut up, Jimmy.”

  “I didn’t say anything!”

  “You didn’t have to, but I’m serious.” She turned back to Don. “It’s rare we find someone we all like, who, well, likes us in return. I doubt the captain would be disinclined to signing O’Hara on.”

  “Spares,” Jimmy cut in before Don could say anything. “He’s signed a contract with the military. I don’t think they’ll just let him waltz out of that so he can join in our little escapades.”

  Jillian looked over at Don, who nodded, affirming what the man had said. This was certainly true, but it was also more than that. He wasn’t just a pilot; he was a fighter pilot. He was involved in the war, not because he was forced to, but because he wanted to be, although sometimes that was hard to remember.

  There were a few moments of awkward silence before Don spoke up. “So,” he asked Dukes, “does she always try to recruit your guests?”

  “Rarely,” Jimmy answered. “A lot of people are too uncomfortable around her for her to like them.”

  “I’m sitting right here, you know,” Jillian said wryly.

  “She’s a bit too abrupt for most people, too impulsive,” Jimmy continued, ignoring her.

  “As if that’s a crime.”

  Don hid a smile at the banter. He finished his meal and stood. “This has been enjoyable. Thank you, but I think I will take your captain up on his offer.”

  Don disposed of his utensils and headed toward the bridge. He knocked on the door frame to make his presence known and asked, “Permission to enter, sir?”

  Captain Hendricks looked around and smiled. “Granted, son. Your company would be pleasurable. I have the graveyard shift.”

  “As do I, Captain.”

  “Well, then, I am in good company.” He motioned to one of the few empty chairs. “Take a seat, son. No reason to stand.”