Void Strikers

by REM

  Upon landing at the north flight deck, Josh got down from his striker and strutted over to where Maya had just stepped down from hers. Reena was there too. “Maya,” he called out.

  She looked briefly in his direction before turning to walk away.

  Reena cut him off. “Give her some time, Josh. She’s still not over the whole Cosmolis thing. Today was rough for her, going back there.”

  Josh peered at Maya heading off and then lowered his head back toward Reena. “I guess I understand why she would be mad at me. It was my fault.”

  “It wasn’t all your fault, Josh,” said Reena. “And I don’t think she’s mad at you; disappointed is more like it. I’m sure she’ll come around, but just try to give her space for now.”

  Josh nodded, feeling a tad depressed.

  At that moment, Smokey passed by. “Come with me, young buck; I’ll buy ya a beer,” he said.

  That’s exactly what I could use right about now, thought Josh. “Sure… thanks,” he replied.

  Smokey brushed it off and spit out some seed shells.

  Josh looked to the floor and wondered, Someone must get pissed at having to clean that up. He laughed mentally. Old Smokey just does whatever he pleases. Guess if you’ve been on this ship as long as he has, you start thinking you own it.

  When they arrived at the bar, Smokey did all the ordering, and it wasn’t long before two tall mugs were being shoved their way. Smokey lifted his, and Josh toasted with him. “To clean slates, and to showing them blasted Mercens who’s boss,” said the old pilot. Both took a few deep chugs, then sat their glasses down on the counter. “That was some fancy flying you showed out there today.”

  Josh smiled faintly to show his appreciation.

  “You made Lauler and Henry look like amateur space cadets, and Ace, you really gave him a run for his money,” said Smokey.

  “I can beat him,” said Josh.

  Smokey’s lips curved merrily. “If every pilot were as confident as you, Ace, Kyle, and Hoss, we would’ve blown them Mercens out of this galaxy by now.” He chuckled. “You’re a natural, son, but don’t forget Ace is a natural too.”

  “I can beat him,” Josh reiterated. “I slipped up today. If only I had another chance…”

  “You’ll get your chance,” said Smokey. “But remember—Mercens don’t give any of those. You get an opportunity, you have to seize it. Understand?”

  Josh nodded. “Yeah, I gotcha.”

  Smokey grabbed a handful of pretzels and munched on them one by one. “Did I ever tell you about the time I had a relationship with a Firble woman?”

  “Firble?”

  “They’re just like us, pretty much human, except their species has short fur covering their entire body.”

  Jesus, Smokey, thought Josh, shaking his head in reply.

  “Where to start?” said the old pilot before going into his story.

  Josh sat listening and chatting with Smokey for close to forty-five minutes until Smokey announced he was heading to the unit to retire for the night. He ordered Josh another round before leaving, then slapped Josh’s arm with the back of his hand and said, “Hang in there, kid. I see a lot of potential in you.” Smokey winked, then left.

  Not too much time passed before Josh drained his mug and headed for the exit himself. He had made it through two short corridors and was halfway down a long hall, when an alarm went off. Orange lights flashed along the top of the walls.

  “Attention!” a voice sounded over the intercom system throughout the ship. “Code orange, lockdown, sector C, north wing.” There was a short delay before the message repeated.

  Huh? thought Josh. How the hell would an intruder get onto the M.N. Rampage? Nevertheless, he jogged across the hall and down another long corridor en route to the space-duct. Orange lights were still flashing all around.

  Josh jerked to a stop. He had seen something do a similar retreat behind the corner at the end of the hall. What heck was that? he thought, then saw a head peek out from the side of the wall. Even from the distance he could tell there was something different about its eyes.

  Josh approached the corner slowly, as he neared it—something jumped out from behind the wall and tackled him to the floor. The creature was obviously a humanoid, but had reptilian eyes, plus strange brown skin. There were small slits in place of where a human’s ears would have been.

  “Heeeeh!” it cried out, with its hands wrapped around Josh’s neck.

  “Cuh, cuh,” coughed Josh, wrestling from the bottom. “Eer!” he grunted, as their grappling intensified. He managed to roll the creature over and reverse the position, his fingers now at the alien’s throat, but Josh found out quickly how strong it was when it rotated him right back to the bottom of their tussling.

  The creature punched Josh hard across the face. Josh swung wildly at its head. His efforts ceased, however, when the creature lifted Josh’s head a couple inches and slammed it against the floor.

  “You are food!” the alien said, in a raspy voice. “Aaaaught!” it cried, glaring, blinking its serpent eyes.

  What the fuck is this? thought Josh, feeling certain he knew what the creature was. But the alcohol made it difficult to recall. His consciousness began to fade, right when seeing the handle of a long gun come down and strike the creature on the back of its head. The alien’s eyes rolled before collapsing out cold to Josh’s side.

  Josh looked up at who had delivered the blow. His jaw dropped. It was Commander Clint—without any guards or escort.

  The old commander slid out a syringe and jabbed it into the creature’s neck, draining every last drop of the blue fluid within. “Help me pick him up!” Clint ordered.

  Josh hustled to his feet and did as told. They got the creature to standing, each wrapping one of its arms around their shoulders.

  Commander Clint pulled out a small transmitter and transmitted, “Keep the lockdown in place. Call off all guards.” He eyed Josh. “Let’s take him to the space-duct.”

  They dragged the creature down a short hall and got into the capsule. Commander Clint punched a button for the bottom floor. It was the only one without a number.

  “What is this thing?” asked Josh. “How did it get on board?”

  “Transport ship,” muttered Clint. He gave Josh a firm look. “This is a Mercen.”

  Josh’s eyes widened. It all came to him then. Mercen! he thought. It had been quite some time since he had seen a picture of one, and had never encountered the species face to face.

  When the elevator stopped and the capsule opened, there was a thick barrier about ten yards from where they stood. Josh helped Commander Clint drag the Mercen over to it. “All right, go on, get out of here. And don’t tell anyone about any of this,” said the Commander, motioning his head toward the space-duct. “I will know if you do, and you will be off of this ship for good—there will be no second chances.”

  Josh was beyond curious as to what lay beyond the sliding doors. He blinked at Clint, feeling terribly uneasy about the sudden change in the Commander’s manner, but nodded and said, “Yes, sir,” before walking back to the capsule.

  Once inside, instead of pressing a button for the north wing, Josh pulled a pen subtly from his pocket and tapped a button to close the doors. Before they could close completely, he stuck the pen between them, so that there was a tiny crack. He peeked out to make sure Commander Clint wasn’t looking toward the space-duct and saw the Commander place his hand onto a security scanner that read his palm.

  The thick doors began sliding open, and reminded Josh of a bank vault.

  “Tanner, come help me move this Mercen inside,” said Commander Clint.

  A few seconds later, Josh saw a man appear to assist the Commander. He then eyed deep inside of the secret section as best he could from the small crack and saw two Mercen bound upright with their arms and legs spread out.

  Josh gasped. The prisoners’ heads were slumped forward, and as far as he could tell, they looked to have been tortured. Wha
t the hell goes on down here? he thought.

  The doors to the secret section closed. Josh removed his pen and pressed a button for the north wing.

  On his way to the third unit, Josh heard an announcement over the intercom that the lockdown had ended. When he entered the lounge, Smokey was the only one in the room and was sitting on the couch in front of the TV like always.

  Josh hesitated for a moment, then walked over and sat next to the old pilot. Smokey glanced at him, but his attention went quickly back onto the big screen.

  “Hey, I was wondering, how well do you know Commander Clint? He seems around your age, so I was just curious,” said Josh.

  Smokey twisted in Josh’s direction while turning down the TV, which was already on a low volume. “We go way back. He was a strong pilot in his days, but being a brilliant strategist is where he really shined. Clint’s not the type of guy you ever want to underestimate, old man or not.”

  Josh nodded and tried probing indirectly. “Yeah, I can tell. He seemed pretty intelligent when I met him, and I always try to get a feel for my superiors.” He shrugged. “You’d be surprised how many commanding officers I’ve found to have some sort of dark side. Clint didn’t seem like one of those.”

  They made eye contact, during which Josh sensed that Smokey probably had many stories he could tell about Commander Clint. “Oh, he’s one sick puppy, all right,” said the old pilot. “But fortunately for us, only the enemy has to worry about that side of him.”

  Josh felt haunted at thought of Commander Clint’s reticent face, and what the Commander might be doing to mercens in the secret lair. “What do you mean by that?” he asked.

  “Young buck, one of the first rules you’re going to learn about the M.N. Rampage is not to talk about Commander Clint. This is his ship and he has ears everywhere. On board, he’s the highest ranked and you’re the lowest. His name should never even cross your mind unless he requests to speak with you.”

  “But you just spoke about him?”

  Smokey grinned. “There’s a lot of things I and other old-timers can get away with on this vessel that younger generations should never attempt. Just know that Commander Clint will always have Creston’s best interest in mind.”

  Josh nodded. When Smokey’s attention had gone back to the screen, he got up and headed to his room to retire.

  Chapter 6

  Josh awoke to a banging on his door. “What’s up?” he called out.

  “We’ve been ordered on patrol, southern Void Zone. You’ve got ten minutes. I’ll be out front,” said Hoss.

  Josh glanced at his clock. It was four thirty A.M. “Be right out,” he replied. He hustled to his feet and got suited up. When he made it out to the lounge, Hoss was standing by the door. The big man tossed Josh a small pouch filled with food bars and drinks, then they left.

  At making it to the north flight deck, Josh saw that no other 3rd squadron pilots were present. “Just us?” he asked.

  “That’s right,” said Hoss. “We’ll get relieved eight hours from now.”

  Both got into their strikers and blasted off.

  Sometime later they arrived at the southern Void Zone. No kidding, it does look sort of similar to the northern region, thought Josh. He and Hoss patrolled the area for four hours before landing on a space station for lunch. After that, they were back flying.

  Most of their time was spent idled, but they still did a fair amount of actual patrolling. They’d seen three shadow fighters earlier, but the southern Void Zone had been clear since then.

  “Time for another lap,” said Hoss, sitting his muscle magazine to the side of his seat.

  “Copy that,” said Josh, opening his eyes from rest.

  They fired up their thrusters, with Hoss leading and Josh at his wing.

  Josh enjoyed seeing all of the small planets and beautiful moons. They were passing a mostly green one when he asked, “What’s on that planet?”

  “Mainly Firbles. They get a lot of tourists though; humans, Notles, Bodens,” Hoss replied.

  “What are Notles and Bodens?”

  “Notles are the species you saw back at the space station with the big pumpkin-heads and black oval eyes, the green guys. Bodens are the ones with the brown snaky skin and purple dot on their forehead.”

  “Ah.”

  A while later, they were cruising the northern edge of the southern region that bordered the Cosmolis, when Josh heard beeping from his dash. He peered at the radar and saw two fast-moving dots flying across and away from where he and Hoss were. “You reading that?” he transmitted.

  “I see ’em,” said Hoss.

  They stayed their course along the border. Both kept a keen eye on the enemy movement.

  “Damnit,” Hoss transmitted, watching the two shadow fighters loop toward them. “They see us and are coming this way. Get ready for some bullshit! Let’s see what type of games they want to play this time.” He waited a few seconds and said, “Idle out.”

  Both switched on their patrol lights and brought their strikers to a hover.

  “We’re awfully close to the Cosmolis. You think this is safe?” asked Josh.

  “Yeah. We’re still in the south region; they wouldn’t dare shoot us down—unless they want certain all-out war. Clint’s already pissed about your friends being blown up; he’s not going to stand for non-Cosmolis fighting.”

  I hope you’re right, thought Josh. Sheesh, why didn’t they tell us about this sitting duck, idle out procedure in Space League? I probably would have dropped out, he thought, sarcastically.

  Their eyes were fixed to their radars.

  “They’re approaching sixty miles,” Josh transmitted.

  Hoss didn’t reply.

  Josh waited, and then said, “They just broke fifty!”

  “Just hold,” said Hoss. “Probably a couple clowns like the ones you and Nate ran into the other day. Make sure your shield’s up. If they fire, we’ll break fast and smoke these turkeys.”

  Josh did just that. Shield is fine, he thought. He then felt a deep nervousness at seeing the shadow fighters nearing on radar, until he could see their slick, black shades sliding through space.

  The Mercen crafts slowed their approach and drifted face to face with Josh and Hoss, just how Josh had experienced a few days ago. They stopped at about fifteen yards from the strikers.

  “Let’s see what type of idiots we’re dealing with this time,” Josh transmitted.

  Hoss chuckled. “Everything’s being recorded, so if we have to blow these scumbags to bits, Rolly will know we were in the right.”

  Josh glanced over at Hoss through his cockpit and thought the big man looked a lot less worried than Nate had been. He could tell Hoss was ready to fight if need be. That was when he turned and saw the red stripes near the wing tip of the shadow fighter in front of him, and felt a rush of adrenaline stir up from his gut. “That’s the one,” he transmitted. “That’s the son of a bitch that shot down Shawn and Stewart!”

  Hoss looked shocked while seeing for himself.

  Josh jerked his striker forward and stopped. “We can take him, Hoss. Let’s nail these scum suckers!”

  “Cool it! I know you want revenge, but now’s not the time. We’d be in violation if we strike first. They could be recording too.”

  Josh gritted his teeth. The marked fighter jerked forward to a stop, in counter to Josh’s prior jest. “You wanna go with me, huh?! You want to see what it’s like to get dusted?” he muttered.

  Hoss snarled at the marked-wing fighter, and said, “We’ll get him… we just can’t do it now.”

  Josh watched a glimmer of red light race faintly around the rim of the Mercen craft’s laser cannon. “He’s readying to fire.”

  “So am I. He’s a fool if he does,” said Hoss.

  The marked fighter drifted left. It jerked at Josh to get his attention, then floated farther out and jerked again. It didn’t take long for Josh to figure out what the Mercen was signaling.

  “He w
ants to tango with me one on one, Hoss, in the Cosmolis. I can take this bastard.”

  Hoss made a stern face while considering Josh’s words. He had nothing against a fair fight, but deep down was concerned for Josh’s safety. “It’s better if you don’t. That Mercen has lots of experience; you haven’t even been out here a week. You’re a good pilot, but I don’t want to risk you ending up like your friends.”

  “I won’t. This sucker’s going down.”

  “I’m ordering you not to fight.”

  “Please, Hoss. These were my friends he killed. I might never get a second chance at this. I will take all the blame if something goes wrong… I’d rather go out like Shawn and Stewart than not attempt to avenge them.”

  Hoss was torn inside, being one of the few pilots in the 3rd squadron who could empathize with the honorability Josh was trying to show. He glanced at the marked shadow fighter waiting ever so patiently for Josh to accept the challenge. He then said, “Go. I’ll cover you,” and looked over to Josh’s cockpit. “You’ve got real balls… take him down, Josh.”

  Josh nodded. “Thank you, Hoss,” he responded, making firm eye contact with his fellow crewmate, before turning his attention to the high-ranking fighter and letting his striker drift in the challenger’s direction. The marked fighter veered toward the Cosmolis, then blasted off. Josh raced after it.

  He felt himself getting madder and madder at envisioning Stewart’s ship getting blown up. You’re going to see why I was Space League’s finest, he thought. You killed them, my friends!

  Stars blurred in his peripherals, until in no time, Josh had shot into the colorful aurora of the Cosmolis. The marked fighter was now zipping at close to maximum speed. Josh accelerated almost to his utmost to keep up.

  “You going to run all day, or you going to fight!” Josh uttered.

  Their streaking continued—until suddenly they were flying into an asteroid field. Christ! thought Josh, cutting right, then right again to avoid two small chunks. So this is what you had in mind. Can’t even face me under normal conditions!

  The marked fighter’s thrusters burned bright as it whisked through an array of scattered rocks making sharp curves. Josh swept after him. An asteroid fragment hurtled frighteningly close to his cockpit. Talk about dangerous! he thought. Part of him wanted to fly out from the field, but his anger wouldn’t let him.