by Greg Dragon
24
With the Rendron being light years away and the Inginus patrolling the far side of the moon of Dyn, the dead warriors of the Rendron Nighthawks did not get the sendoff that Helga expected. Instead of a speech from Retzo Sho, their beloved captain, they received one from Commander Tyrell Lang, which fell embarrassingly short.
The ceremony culminated with a speech from Cilas, expressing his sorrow and gratitude. The entire thing lasted a little over thirty minutes and then the Nighthawks were allowed to slam Alliance pins into the coffins that represented their fallen comrades.
It would have been understandable for them to hold a grudge against Lamia Brafa, since it was his sword that had sent the other men to their deaths. But they knew that he had been corrupted, and loved him all the same, so Helga placed a pin on his coffin and slammed it home with her fist.
Cruser’s coffin hurt the most, and seeing his name in gold on that black shiny obelisk brought a pain to her heart that she could no longer hide. It seemed so long ago since he had helped her into her first armor, and she recalled how much of a child she’d been then. Despite all of her faults and bad off-color humor, he had been a friend, teaching and protecting her.
Now she remembered that she would never see him again. She would no longer feel the warmth of his hugs, or here his loud obnoxious laugh from the other end of the barracks. When her fist touched the pin she lost it all together, and as she leaned over, crying, it was Brise who came to console her.
So much had happened since Lamia’s mind had been invaded. So much that it felt to Helga as though she’d lived several different lives. There was the past that she held onto, the one with her parents, and Rolph, her brother. Then there was the Dyn mission, which felt surreal. Did I really pilot a Geralos thopter on that moon? she thought.
The lapse in consciousness during her imprisonment ran into the memory of the Louine rescue. She recalled white walls and kind blue faces, but all of it faded away to the long month aboard the pod. Her eyes found Ina Reysor, who seemed regal in civilian clothes. She stood with her men, her eyes strong but sympathetic. It was enough to remind Helga where she was, and she stood up tall and collected herself.
She watched as the coffins were ejected from the airlock, and the men’s names, ranks, and accolades were announced to the ship. A moment of silence ended this painful show of remembrance, and then everything went back to normal.
Helga, who had been upset since the beginning, felt angry and helpless over the way things had turned out. She went back to the compartment that she had been given and sat on the bunk with her head in her hands.
Varnes was gone without his family being there, and somehow it just felt wrong. Since their arrival they had been given accommodations, and time to heal, but this brought back everything in a painful force.
Helga got up from the bunk and walked over to a floor-length mirror. She’d lost so much weight that she thought she looked sickly. Her skin was thinner, and her spots stood out in stark contrast against a complexion that was beyond pale.
I wonder if I’ll ever look normal again, she thought, and reached up and touched the cheekbones jutting out from her skin. She traced fingertips across the dark bags below eyes that were puffy from crying. “I look like schtill,” she said, and kissed her teeth.
A loud jingle came from the door and she wondered who it could be. Adjusting her uniform and fixing her hair, she crossed the compartment to see who it was. On the vid’s monitor, she saw Cilas Mec standing outside the door. Helga quickly unlocked it and slid it open to see what the lieutenant wanted.
Cilas walked in and took a seat at the table in the center of the compartment. When Helga locked the door he motioned for her to take a seat across from him. I wonder what I’ve done now, she thought, trying to remember if she’d done anything disrespectful during the funeral.
“What’s going on, Lieutenant?” she said, steeling herself for the bad news that was about to come.
“Nothing much. I came to check in on you. See how you’re settling in. And I wanted to talk to you about our situation here. Do you have time to talk … off the record?”
“Always,” she said, happy to learn that it wasn’t about the funeral.
Cilas seemed pained as he sat staring at the table, his hands wringing so hard that she became concerned for him. Eventually he looked up at her, but his eyes danced around as if he struggled to see her. “Lots of things have happened since you joined our team and I haven’t had a chance to sit down with you,” he said.
“I’m alive, I have food, and a bunk to rest my head on. Considering where we’ve been in the last few months, I am doing extremely well,” she said, smiling. “To be honest with you, Cilas, I’ve been wondering when my luck’s going to run out. Let me see, both you and Cruser were hit when we entered Dyn, yet I was the one in the front.
“Then Wyatt saved me from the dredge and Cage from the Geralos in the thopters. We get captured and somehow I managed to not get bitten. Then we’re rescued and we took over a ship, and still managed to make it back here. If luck was a resource I should be scraping the bottom right now. For me to complain would make me a bit of an ass.”
Cilas smiled and mussed his hair. It was obvious that something was on his mind. “Just now, Sol asked me if he could put in for a transfer off the Rendron,” he said. “As his superior, he asked me to sign off on it. Toughest thing I’ve had to do as a leader, Ate. Looks like he’s had it for some time. He admitted he had it drafted after his first mission.”
“He doesn’t like being a Nighthawk?” Helga said, surprised.
“Oh, he does. He said as much. But he doesn’t like being a spacer in a Navy that doesn’t give a thype about him. See on Rendron, had he handed me that thing, I would have had him thrown in the brig for cowardice during a time of war. When you’re a Nighthawk, you can’t quit. It said it right there when we all signed up.”
“But?” Helga said, watching his discomfort and wishing that she could help him somehow.
“But on that ship we confirmed his fear, Helga. So I understand why Sol would want to run. I just want to see if you’re still in, or, I don’t know, maybe you feel the same. You’ve always been respectful, and I appreciate it more than you know.”
“I’m here to stay, Lieutenant, you don’t have to ask,” she said. “I remember what I signed, and beyond even that, I don’t think I have anything to give to the civilian world. What am I going to do when the lizards own the galaxy? Hole up in some hub, hoping and praying that our military gets a major win? If I can have it my way, I will be a part of that major win. Corruption or not, I don’t want to be helpless, not as long as I have the ability to fly.”
“That’s what I thought you’d say, Helga, and for the record, I never doubted you. But Ina Reysor needs help, and I know that you two grew close, so I figured I’d ask you now before she and her crew are off the ship,” Cilas said.
“Is Brise going to join her?”
“No, he’s hitching a ride to the nearest hub. I think that funeral did something to him, or maybe it was the pod. Either way, he’s finished. Signing that paper felt more like accepting defeat than the day we surrendered to those Geralos,” Cilas said. “We knew that Sol was skeptical of our leadership. How could he not be skeptical? His own father was corrupted years ago.”
“I didn’t know that,” Helga said.
“When I signed his paperwork, he said some things to me, things that made me look past my cynicism towards his agenda. I came in here to see what you think. I want to hear from you, where your thoughts are on everything. I want to move forward and rejoin the fight, but I cannot pretend that five of my men aren’t dead.”
Helga started playing with the ring on her right hand, it was the one she’d been given for graduating from the Cadet Academy. She was about to ask about the commander, but thought better of it. If Cilas didn’t trust him to tell the truth about what they had gone through, then the last thing he wanted to do was talk about it.
Helga thought about inviting Cilas out for a walk so that they could talk openly about the Alliance, but they were dressed in clothes that had been given to them. Bugs were small enough to be woven into the lapels. The entire ship would be under surveillance – making it impossible to hide for long.
“We’re being watched, aren’t we?” she said after a time, and Cilas smiled, which meant the answer was a yes. “I should talk to Brise before he leaves. We’ve barely spoken since he joined us on the pirate ship, and I don’t think I’ll get the chance to see him again.”
“You okay, Helga? I don’t mean to keep asking, but earlier at the funeral … I can’t just ignore that. We’ve been together long enough for me to know a bit about you, and what I saw at the service struck me as the truth leaking out. Have you been to the sick—?”
“It was a funeral. I got emotional, Cilas,” she said, feeling cornered. “I’m not weak or out of my mind, alright? Brise may not be able to take it, but trust me, I can.”
“Helga ...”
“No. Cilas, please, just – just leave it alone,” she said. The pain was back, like a burning wound in the back of her throat, and it was becoming increasingly hard to keep it all together.
Cilas didn’t seem convinced but he didn’t say anything more. He scooted back his chair, stood up suddenly, then turned and walked over to the door. Helga assumed he was upset, but so was she, and he was prying beyond what she needed. If only he could just listen, and be there for her – it was all she really needed.
“I may seem to have it together, Helga, but that’s just my training,” he said, without turning to face her. “A part of me died when that las-sword robbed me of my best friend. You’re all I have left, and I don’t take that lightly.” There was a painful silence that passed between them as a tear broke free and rolled down Helga’s cheek. “Don’t forget to eat,” he finally said, and then he was gone. Just like that.
Helga walked to the door. She needed to say something, but he was too far and she didn’t know what to say. It was obvious that he had a lot on his mind, yet he was worried more about her. Why wouldn’t he be? He was Cilas Mec, a model ESO in every way, skilled, experienced, and loyal to a fault.
This stalwart and icon of the Alliance military had been told that his superiors had a hand in Lamia’s corruption. This led him to lie to a superior officer and pretend that he was still oblivious to the facts. It’s probably eating him up inside and he wanted to talk, Helga thought. Can’t talk here, will need to figure it out later.
If the lizards could corrupt people on shielded warships, Helga didn’t know what they’d be able to do. At any time one of her fellow pilots could become corrupt and fire on her. A dockhand could sabotage their entire fleet and stall them out when they were engaged with the enemy. She was also an Alliance officer, sworn to carry out commands. What if she was ordered to cripple one of their starships?
Helga wished that she had something stiff to drink. She’d give anything to take the edge off the paranoia she felt. It had her in that doorway staring after Cilas like a concerned lover seeing her man off. She caught a few Marines watching her with piqued interest, so she snapped out of her stupor and stepped back inside.
As the door slid shut, she stood with her back against the bulkhead, staring up at the dirty vent above the table.
The Geralos had been sneaky and precise in their scheming. Lamia, for all his spectacular gifts, had not been able to stop the mind control, she thought. He was supposed to kill us all, and then the Geralos were supposed to kill him. No one would have known that we died down there.
The Nighthawks had been a unit for several years. They were the unit every cadet dreamed of joining after graduation. She had been given the privilege, then proved herself alongside them. Now Brise was out, and she was left with their leader.
“We need to get off this ship,” she whispered. “It’s not safe here for any of us.”
The words repeated themselves in her head, and she understood why Brise had decided to quit. She tried to think of an excuse but none came to mind. She was stuck on the Inginus, just like the lieutenant. “We must do what we need to honor our fallen brothers,” he had said, which meant that she would face death if that was what it meant for justice.
“I died back on Dyn,” she reminded herself, and closed her eyes to accept this truth. She would play along with whatever the Inginus offered, but when it came time to act, she would be ready.
Brise Sol was in the hangar, seated on the deck near the transport ship, his back to the bulkhead. He didn’t seem to notice Helga as she walked beneath a Phantom’s wing, and it was only when she hovered over him did he acknowledge her presence.
“How long did it take you to find me?” he said without looking up at her.
“Was this a game that you were playing, Sol? See how long it will take for Helga to find me?” she said.
He cracked a smile, and she kicked him in the leg, not hard but with enough strength to let him know she wasn’t amused. “You think sitting next to this thing will make the time go by faster?” she said. “You’re stuck with us until the commander decides that you can leave.”
“So he told you then,” he said with disgust. “I don’t know how you can follow that guy after everything we’ve been through.”
“You mean the lieutenant?”
“Who else would I be talking about?” he said.
Helga slid down next to him and drew her knees up so she could hug them. “Cilas ain’t so bad. You two are just … different. Is it because of him that you’re leaving us to go play adventure with the pretty redhead?” she said.
“Oh, get off it, Ate, she has nothing to do with this,” he said.
“Doesn’t hurt that she’s hot, right? You think that you’re her type?”
“Look, just because we have the same color hair doesn’t mean that I’ve lost my mind. She’s a good-looking woman, yes, but I’m hardly her type, and again it has nothing to do with me leaving the Alliance. Seriously, Ate, have you walked around this ship? Have you seen the way they look at us? We, the so-called elite bunch. They were sent out here to collect us but they hate our guts. Makes sense considering that their very leaders—”
“Stow it and don’t repeat it,” Helga snapped. “Lest you want to leave this ship through an airlock. We can’t talk about that, but know that we aren’t far from where you stand on the topic. Are you understanding me, Sol? The time for talking about that is over. The people who run this ship and its crew are made of different stuff than Cilas. Yes they hate our guts. I’m hardly blind, but you know what? We’re better than them.”
“Go on.”
“How many of these brush cuts have been up close and personal with the lizards? How many of them can boast about that, or anything that you’ve done? They see us as a threat, a reminder that they’re not as bad as we are. So they give us mean looks and talk behind our backs. You know what, Sol, thype them. They’re the same caliber of losers I beat back in the academy,” Helga said.
“Are you okay, Ate? You seem … angrier than normal,” he said.
“Oh, not you too,” she said, and ran her fingers through her hair.
“You’ve been through a lot, Helga. This was your first mission and we put you through it. I joke around, but I want you to know that I see you as a sister in many ways. When we voted to go with the lieutenant, I know that you spoke up to cut me a break. I…” He stopped talking so suddenly that Helga looked around to see if someone had startled him.
“It’s okay, Sol, you know that you can talk to me. I hold no judgment on you,” she said.
Brise Sol was hunched over, his shoulders resting on his knees as he toyed with his laces in a way that reminded her of a child. “After the camp
something changed, Ate. I lost the urge to go on. There was a time when I woke up and saw all those bodies hanging near me, and I knew it was over. I knew that my life was done. But then the lieutenant saves me and calls me a coward in the same breath. From that moment I hated him, because deep down I knew he was right.”
“The Brise Sol I know is no coward, do you hear me?” Helga said. “You saved Cilas’s ass when we were hemmed up in that cave. You didn’t balk at the dredge, and you were there with us fighting the lizards. He was unconscious so he couldn’t appreciate all that you’d done. I’m not making any excuses for Cilas, but you aren’t a coward, Brise.”
“That’s the thing. I wasn’t a coward, but then I was caught and something changed. Even now I can still feel the cold of the mist inside that room. This is why I have to leave, Ate. I’m going to get you killed. There will be a time when you need me and I am going to let you down. No, don’t talk me out of it, please. Just … just let me go and salvage what’s left of my life.”
“I was just going to say that I love you, Brise. Like a brother, of course, so don’t get any ideas,” she said, laughing.
Brise grew quiet as he stared forward, and she knew he’d drawn into himself. It was his defense mechanism when his mouth no longer worked for him and he knew that he was about to break. Helga reached out with one arm and pulled him in, and his shoulders loosened just enough for him to rest his head on her shoulder. “Wherever you go, if you get into trouble, know that you have a friend on the inside,” she said.
“I know, Ate. If I get in trouble, I know you’ll be here. I could never admit this when I was in uniform, but you’re the strongest spacer I know.”
25
Since the rescue and the departure of Ina Reysor from the Inginus, Helga found that she had a hard time sleeping. Her insomnia had started before that, really, but in the past, it was sporadic, not persistent like it was now. Her sleep had come in spurts while floating around within their escape ship. She recalled Brise having the same issue, but Cilas would pass out for hours.