by REM
Let’s do it! thought Josh, punching the throttle. He could tell right away that Hoss had done the same. “Here we go…” he whispered, almost subconsciously. He shifted the craft into a corkscrewing maneuver and mashed down on his trigger. Beams of light flashed out successively from the ship’s laser cannons.
Everything happened so fast. Hoss was returning fire and had begun coiling his craft too. Both strikers whorled like crazy to evade each other’s attacks. Their ships zoomed closer and closer with no signs of slowing. Neither pilot was willing to back down.
Smokey’s eyes widened from where he was watching them fight on a small monitor, as the dots on his radar got nearer and nearer. His jaw dropped. “Pull up, now,” he shouted.
Hoss kept his face scrunched angrily. “I’d rather die than give way to some rookie!” he whispered, trying desperately to land a shot.
“Can’t intimidate me, ya big bully!” said Josh under his breath.
They were less than a second from colliding—when Josh broke left—and Hoss broke right.
“Little punk!” Hoss mumbled, circling back in Josh’s direction.
Josh tried veering around as well, but Hoss had already gotten the drop. Instead of completing the turn, Josh slammed his stick to the side and blazed off in the opposite direction.
Hoss bolted after him.
A blast of light streaked past Josh’s cockpit. Okay, big boy, show me something! He thrust his stick right and dove at angle.
Hoss did the same.
“No, no, rookie. You’re mine!” said Hoss. He fired another round—but the plunge made it extremely difficult to connect.
Josh rolled right, then came out of his dive, rising at a leftward angle and into a wide curl.
Hoss slashed left at seeing Josh’s change in direction, but Josh completed the loop and dropped in from the rear. He fired.
Hoss twirled his striker and evaded the shots.
The big man was now growling vehemently. He weaved hard right, then left, keeping up the pattern twice more. Then he jammed his stick to the side and tried fading away—but a light went off in his cockpit, signaling he had been hit.
“Woo hoo, that makes two!” Josh transmitted. He could hear Smokey laughing and then saw the old pilot’s face appear on the dash screen.
“Well done, young buck,” said Smokey. “Come on now, Hoss. How’d you let that happen to you?”
It took Hoss a moment to answer, begrudgingly. “He’s just the luckiest recruit to ever make it up to the Rampage. My flying was off, and a few shots that should have hit didn’t.”
“Skill, Hoss. That’s called skill!” said Josh.
“You’d better pipe down before you get another ass whipping when we get back to the ship,” said Hoss. He was pissed.
Smokey chuckled. “Can’t wait till the others find out about this.” His comment only stoked Hoss’ fire.
Josh took the big man’s threat seriously, but still smirked to himself in his cockpit. “You want to go again? Or you worried about going down 3-0 to a rookie?”
“You’re damn right we’re going again,” said Hoss.
“If it makes you feel any better, big guy, please remember I was the best of my graduating class. So, I guess that makes me an all-pro rookie, or rookie of the year. Shouldn’t sound too bad when you have to break the news to the rest of the unit.”
“Three-second split,” Hoss blurted. “Get over here.”
Josh smiled as the wings on his craft tilted right. He glided over to where Hoss was flying. Once parallel, they drifted until Smokey’s voice came over the transmission: “Break!”
Both strikers split off in opposite directions. On Smokey’s mark, they began engagement.
This time, instead of rushing into a head-on, Josh inverted his plane and hooked down into a lower approach.
Hoss dove after him.
Josh cut hard left, then brought his craft into a wide, slanted loop.
Hoss counter curled into a wild twist, which brought them head to head for a swift moment where both mashed frantically on their triggers. All shots missed. They zipped past each other in close proximity.
“That was insane!” Josh said to himself. He arced his ship back around to re-engage, but saw that Hoss had done so faster. “Shit!” He yanked his control stick, then rolled his craft, as beams of light flashed past. Oh man! thought Josh, streaking off in a neutral direction. “Almost had me there, Hoss!”
“Still got you!” barked Hoss, whizzing in pursuit.
Josh banked a stiff right, but Hoss stayed glued to his trail.
“Ain’t happening, rookie. I got you now,” said Hoss.
That’s when Nate’s voice came through on the dash. “That’s it, boys. Time to get to the north sector.”
“Just a sec,” said Hoss, thrusting his stick from side to side and making hard weaves in counter to Josh’s desperate evading.
“We got to go now,” said Nate. “We’ve been informed by Rolly of Mercen activity in the northern sector of the Void Zone. It requires our immediate attention.”
Hoss fired another round. Then he cursed. “Luckiest rookie ever.” His lips pursed.
After that, Josh watched the big man pull off from pursuit and head back in the direction of where Smokey was idled. Josh tugged on his controller and did the same. He brought his striker wing to wing with Hoss’. When the big man glanced over, Josh gave a cocky smirk and a firm salute. Hoss flipped up his middle finger in return.
When they reached Smokey, Nate and Maya were already there. The group flew off in a fluid formation. It wasn’t long before Josh could see a planet in the distance. Shortly after, Nate transmitted: “Welcome to the Void Zone, newbies.” He waited a moment to speak again. “That planet over there on the left is Fargo—a nice planet, inhabited by humanoids, and friendly with good old Creston.”
Josh eyed Fargo and admired its green-white swirled appearance. Then he heard Nate say: “All right, team, I got a report that Mercen fighters have been harassing trade ships. Our job is just to act as visible deterrent. Do not engage, or show hostility toward enemy craft, unless engaged upon.”
“Yep, we know the drill,” said Hoss.
“Rookies, did you get that?” asked Nate.
“Yes,” said Maya.
“Loud and clear,” Josh replied. He felt a rush of excitement and grinned faintly. If only they’d let me take down a few of those bad boys. The entire unit would know what I can do, he thought.
“We’re going to be breaking up into two groups for patrols. This time, Josh will come with me, and Maya with Hoss and Smokey,” said Nate. “Splitting left.”
Josh watched as Nate’s striker broke off. He did the same. The other three veered right with Smokey taking the lead.
Nate and Josh zoomed through space until reaching a cluster of small moons and space stations. Josh wanted badly to explore them.
“These moons are more or less neutral to our conflict with Mercen. This large station serves as a trading hub for all three. You’ll notice their transport ships are in the same color of their moon. The smaller stations are great tourist locations, ripe with alien cultures. You’ll get a chance to visit them sometime,” said Nate.
They flew out a ways from the nearest station.
“Okay, let’s post up here,” Nate transmitted.
Josh slowed his ship to a halt right next to Nate’s. Both hovered in place.
An image of Nate appeared on Josh’s cockpit monitor. “These can be your best friend out here,” said Nate, holding up a book.
Josh glanced over to Nate’s striker anyway to see it.
“There’s also a music archive loaded into your dash. Kyle likes to bring his handheld video games. Whatever gets you through a patrol. Most of the time is spent idled and waiting for something to come up on radar, but every so often we’re required to make a patrol lap.”
Josh nodded. “Got it.” He waited a second and said, “Is this where the transporters were being harassed?”
“Most likely. I didn’t get an exact location. There are more small moons and space stations farther south where Smokey and the others are patrolling. From time to time the Mercen will exhibit this type of behavior, though they’ve only shot down one transport ship that I can recall. They claimed it acted aggressively, which is complete bullshit.”
“What happened after that?”
“We retaliated, of course; Commander Clint doesn’t tolerate those types of shenanigans. Took down one of their cargo ships, which led to week-long scuffles that eventually ceased. But shooting down trade is a bad move for either side. Things would be more likely to pop off in the Cosmolis area of the Void Zone.”
“If it’s that rare for Mercen to take out a transporter, maybe that particular ship did act belligerently,” said Josh, shrugging to himself.
“That’s highly doubtful. The transporter hit belonged to Creston. All Creston transports in this region are done by our military; this way the public back home never has to hear about random conflicts. The ship had minimal weaponry, or defenses, and was under strict orders to never show hostility toward Mercen craft. They would have sooner surrendered than provoked an incident.”
Josh nodded in thought. “Where is this Cosmolis area?”
“It’s the central part of the Void Zone. There’s an aurora of colorful lights there, along with a handful of exotic planets and moons. For some reason the Mercen are extremely territorial to this region, even though it’s technically neutral territory. Conflicts there usually get a blind eye from both sides. Many Mercen and Creston crafts have been shot down in that location, all of which are brushed off as fair game, mainly because there’s no trade in the region, and it’s known to be highly contested.”
“Interesting.”
Things got quite for a moment. Josh pondered what he’d been told.
“Well… we’ll give it about an hour. If we don’t see anything in that time, we’ll make our first lap,” said Nate.
Josh watched him lift his book to read in advance of switching off the monitor. He peered over to where Nate’s ship was and then gazed around space. He studied the nearest space station, then marveled at the beautiful moons. One was teal, another was purple, and the last was gray.
After gazing for a bit, he returned his attention to the cockpit, and eyed the switch for the music player. Eh, not in the mood. Instead, Josh adjusted himself the best he could to get some sort of recline. Then he continued staring out through the window ahead.
It wasn’t long until Josh had closed his eyes. He kept them that way for a few minutes at a time before opening them up and peeking around space.
Roughly twenty minutes had passed when he glanced at his radar and saw two objects moving at a noticeably high speed. They were getting closer and closer to where he and Nate were posted.
Josh tapped his transmitter. “Hey, Nate. We got two craft coming this way. They’re moving pretty fast.” He heard Nate fumble his book, and looked over to him staring at his own radar.
“Shit,” Nate transmitted.
Josh wasn’t sure of the severity of Nate’s cursing, but started readying for flight, just in case. He rustled straight up in his seat and punched a few buttons on the dash. That’s when he noticed his ship was still in safe mode. That would suck, he thought, switching his striker back to normal attack mode. He glanced at the radar and saw the fast-moving dots were almost upon them, but he hadn’t heard any orders from Nate. Just as he lifted his head to peer over at his comrade—two dark craft shot by in front of them. They were miles away, but still vaguely visible in contrast to the gray moon they had flown across.
“Hell, it’s hard to see those damn things,” said Josh.
“That would be why they’re called shadow fighters,” Nate replied. “Flip on your patrol lights.”
Josh did as told. Blue light shined from various points on their ships. They were used to make certain the strikers could be seen by other crafts for deterrent purposes.
“Follow my lead,” said Nate, putting his striker into motion.
Josh trailed at his rear wing. “They’re at our ten. How come we’re flying right?”
“We’re just making a few laps to increase visibility; to let them know we’re here, and harassing trade ships won’t be tolerated. You never want to fly directly toward them, since that might be taken for an act of aggression,” Nate replied.
“Right,” said Josh. They increased their speed and flew off some odd miles before circling back. Each kept careful watch on their radar.
Josh’s eyes lit up at seeing the two shadow fighters looping in their direction. The two dots were zipping across his monitor. “Nate! They’re coming at us.”
“Be cool! Be cool! They’re probably just messing with our heads, checking our guts. They do this from time to time.”
Josh listened to Nate relaying information to Smokey: “We’ve got two S.F., north region, Verant sector. Possible hostiles, requesting C.C.”
“C.C.?” said Josh, on his and Nate’s private line. He then heard Smokey reply: “Copy that.”
Nate switched back to a one-on-one frequency. “Thrusters off, Josh,” he ordered.
“Huh?”
“Just do it. I don’t want to risk an altercation.”
“But we’ll be sitting ducks!”
“I doubt they’ll fire on us if we’re idled. They’re probably under similar orders, and won’t chance escalation in a trade zone.”
Josh cut the thrusters and switched his ship to hover at Nate’s side. Both observed warily as the dark craft streaked toward them, becoming more and more visible, until eventually the shadow fighters were upon them. The ships drifted in and stopped a short distance away, hanging face to face with Josh and Nate’s strikers.
“Nate… are you sure about this?” Josh let out, in almost a whisper.
“No, but it was the best call,” replied Nate, in a similar tone.
Josh tried getting a look at the Mercen pilots, but the glass-like material covering their cockpits was tinted black.
Ten or so tense seconds passed, which to Josh felt more like a long minute. He glanced over at Nate’s rigid posture and saw just how uneasy his comrade was feeling. Then he locked his eyes back onto the enemy craft. I wonder what type of material they used to make their ships, he thought, inspecting the glossy metal. Never seen anything like it.
Josh felt a tremor of fear, as one of the enemy fighters began moving left, and then slowly circling he and Nate’s crafts. “Uh, what’s he doing?”
“I don’t know,” replied Nate. “Just hang tight. Don’t panic.”
Christ! thought Josh. We’re being targeted at close range by two enemy fighters and he tells me not to panic. He wondered if some of the other pilots in the unit would have handled this situation the same, or if they would have taken a harder stance toward the Mercen’s heckling.
When the enemy fighter arrived back at its original position, in front of Josh, there was another tense moment of head-on staring. Then, the same craft rose up and floated down as if riding a wave. After that it rolled in place.
“Jesus, Nate, these bastards are playing games,” said Josh.
“Just relax. They’ll get bored soon.”
Pfft, probably thinks he’s hot shit, thought Josh, eyeing the Mercen ship.
The same shadow fighter rolled in place again.
Yeah? I can do that too, thought Josh. He twirled his striker.
“Josh, what the hell are you doing?” Nate blurted.
“Just having a little fun with these clowns.”
The shadow fighter hovering opposite to Josh jerked forward and then stopped.
Nate knew it was a clear warning. “Calm it down, Josh. This is getting dangerous.”
Josh had tightened his eyes and was beaming at the Mercen ship in front of him, hoping the enemy pilot was watching. He felt as if he was giving way to foes who were probably less skilled then himself and didn’t like it. These wannabe tough guys
have no idea who they’re dealing with, he thought. I’d probably shoot them both down on my own. He thought for a second more before a strong urge hit. He smirked. Yeah… you want to have fun? Let’s have some real fun.
Josh rolled his striker thrice to the left and dove off to the side. The shadow fighter that had been performing the antics dove after him.
Nate couldn’t believe what he was seeing. “You idiot! You’re going to get us blown up,” he shouted, with a keen eye on the other shadow fighter.
Josh punched his throttle and sent his striker blazing. The enemy fighter zoomed behind him. He snickered uncontrollably when peeking at the Mercen craft to his rear. “Show me something,” said Josh. He yanked back on his stick and shot up at a forty-five-degree angle, then into wide spirals.
The Mercen fighter veered upward, tilting left, and then right, but never corkscrewing.
When Josh came out of his coil, he curved right with a sudden burst and tore through space.
The shadow fighter kept hot on his trail.
Their ships are fast, I’ll give them that, thought Josh. And man, their dark shade is even worse.
Nate’s eyes were wider than a tarsier’s on its prey. “This can’t be happening,” he muttered, keeping focused on the shadow fighter in front of him. He wasn’t sure what to do, but figured Josh was in a one on one that he himself initiated, so he had might as well sit tight. Plus, the second Mercen ship was still holding him in check.
The second shadow fighter jerked forward, then stopped as his fellow Mercen had done earlier. After that it made a sharp turn and blasted off in the direction of Josh and the other enemy craft.
Nate smacked his transmitter. “Josh, the second ship is headed your way. I repeat, the second ship is headed your way!” Even then Nate wasn’t sure if he should join. He cursed Josh in his head and thought, Let this stupid rookie get what he wanted. “Damnit!” he said, slamming on his thrusters and bolting toward the fight.
Josh and the first shadow fighter were tangled up in nasty maneuvering: odd circles and crazy twists. “Yahoo!” Josh shouted, swinging down out of a sharp loop and positioning himself at the enemy fighter’s rear. “Ever seen anything like that? Huh? Huh?” he said, as if talking to the Mercen pilot.