The Army Of Light (Kestrel Saga)

by Fender, Stephen

  “There are actually two laser cannons on either side of the ship,” he began. “They’re concealed behind tri-tonic plated panels to avoid both visual detection and multiphasic scans.”

  Melissa flattened her lips, then the ends slowly curled into a demure smile. “That’s illegal, Captain.”

  “What are you, Fleet Security?” he chortled.

  She was quick to respond. “No, of course not. It’s just that I—,” seeing he was acutely staring at her, faltered. “Oh, never mind. And… you’ve used these lasers before?”

  “A time or two.” Shawn said as he flipped the internal gravity stabilizer on.

  Melissa felt the slight tug of the artificial gravity take hold of her boots. “And when was the last time?”

  “About three weeks ago. Why do you ask?”

  “I’m just wondering if they’re as finicky as everything else on the ship,” she said as she gestured her hand around the cockpit.

  There was an annoying series of beeps and blips from the console, which momentarily distracted the captain. He then turned and gave Melissa a frustrated sneer. “Seriously, you just can’t help it, can you?”

  Her shoulders dropped. “For heaven’s sake. Give me some time to adjust. Besides, it’s not like I called this thing a flying death trap or anything.”

  “Is that how you feel?”

  She thought about it for a moment. “Would you like a sugar coated lie or the hard truth?”

  “I’m thinking that neither is a good option right now.”

  “You’re probably right,” she agreed.

  “Anyway, there’s nothing wrong with my guns, Miss Graves,” he replied derisively. “They shoot just fine.”

  “I’m sure they do, Captain. I’m sure they do.” Melissa stared through the center view port at the distant hill that Toyo’s house was secluded on. A low hanging cloud had wrapped itself around its top, as if to blanket the naturally imposing formation from the colder atmosphere above. “So, you served with him during the war?” She said aloud.

  “Katashi?”

  “Yes.”

  “I thought we went over this the last time we were in the car?” he asked. If they had, her facial expression told him she wanted to go over it again.

  “Does it matter?” she said, confirming Shawn’s assumption.

  Shawn continued checking the rest of his gauges. “Guess not. Either way, yes.”

  “But, you didn’t fight together.”

  “What makes you say that?” He asked over the hum of D’s engines warming up.

  Melissa shrugged. “I’m just making an observation, that’s all. I gather that Toyo was in intelligence and you were—”

  “A fighter pilot. So what?” he cut her off rudely.

  “You know, you could stand to be a litter nicer yourself, Captain. I’m trying to make an effort here, if you hadn’t noticed. And, as you yourself pointed out, we’re both better off if we’re not at each other’s throats.”

  He knew she was right. In truth, Shawn had no idea why at this particular juncture he’d decided to be snarky towards her. He also knew nothing halfhearted would suffice now that it was his turn to offer an apology for an unwarranted offense. He turned and looked into her shimmering green eyes in complete sincerity. “You’re right. I’m sorry. It’s just…”

  “Yes?” she asked, searching those cobalt blue eyes just before he had a chance to avert them.

  “It’s just the way life’s made me.”

  Not understanding, she still recognized an apology when she heard one. “It’s quite alright, Captain.”

  “The whole ‘Captain’ thing is really starting to sound too formal. Don’t you think we could—?”

  “No. No, I don’t think so,” she stammered slightly. “Anyway, what I was going to say was that you were a line officer, and that it was just funny, that’s all. Usually the two circles of pilots and intelligence officers don’t mesh very well.”

  Shawn concurred. Normally, intelligence operatives and the fighter pilots were different sides of two very different coins. While all officers essentially come out of the same mold when they graduated Sector Command Academy, Shawn and Toyo’s career paths had taken them in wildly different directions during the war. Usually an officer stuck to his own community, because only the people you worked or flew with truly understood where you were coming from. However, when Shawn had met Toyo during the last year of the war—during that first fateful mission—they’d formed a deep friendship few officers ever can, regardless of whether they represented the same branch insignia on or not.

  “Toyo and I were an exception to the rule,” he said slyly.

  “You’re probably right,” she said approvingly after a moment.

  Shawn nodded curtly. “So, how’d you know the intelligence community didn’t get along so well with others in the service?”

  “Oh, just stories, really. Rumors, I guess you could say.”

  “From your father?”

  “Yes,” she said, then smiled brightly as a memory washed over her. “He had more than enough words about the Office of Special Intelligence. Surprisingly, most of them were good.” She laughed mildly, and her smile was almost radiant.

  Almost.

  Nonetheless, Shawn was glad they were getting along once again. “You want to know something?” he asked. “Besides Toyotomi, I had a few other run-ins with the OSI myself during my tour.”

  “Oh?” she asked in honest surprise. “And how did those go?”

  He shrugged. “I could take them or leave them, I suppose. Mostly leave them, if you know what I mean?” Her expression told Shawn she didn’t. “Often it was during post-mission debriefings, when the OSI officer attached to the ship would question us as to what we’d seen while we were out on patrol or in combat.”

  “But… you were never on the wrong side of one of their investigations, I gather?”

  “I’m afraid not,” he smiled at her. “Does that surprise you?”

  She snickered. “I don’t think ‘surprise’ is the word I’d use to describe it, Mister Kestrel.”

  “Then what word would you choose?”

  She brought a finger to her chin in contemplation. “Astounded—or perhaps even amazed.” She looked at him in all seriousness, but then let out an uncontrollable laugh. It turned out to be infectious, and soon the captain had joined in.

  “Oh, God. That felt really good,” she said, wiping a joyous tear from her eye when the laughter had subsided. “It feels like an eternity since I’ve had a good laugh like that,” she said, leaning back in what she now felt was the most amazingly comfortable chair in the galaxy.

  “I’m glad it was at my expense,” Shawn offered with a gracious nod.

  “You’re not sore, are you?”

  He smiled widely. “Of course not. It was nice.”

  She looked at him curiously.

  “I mean, it felt nice to laugh… for me to do it, I mean,” he stammered. “To laugh. Out loud.”

  The recent memory of a dashing pilot, dressed in a tuxedo, and swaying gently with her to soft music passed before her eyes. She shook the image clear, but it didn’t clear the smile from her face. “So, Captain? When do you arrive at Corvan?”

  “We aren’t going directly to Corvan from here.”

  “But I thought—”

  “Whatever you thought, you’ll have to stow it in the overhead compartment. We need to get back to Minos first.”

  “Minos is in the opposite direction,” she indicated the relative direction of Corvan by pointing out the view port. “I’d rather go forwards than backwards.”

  “I’m not going anywhere else without my mechanic. He’s helped me out of a lot of jams, and nobody knows this ship better than he does. If we want to undertake a journey like this, believe me, he’s an asset that we can’t do without.”

  “So, the truth comes out. Even you don’t have faith in your own ship.”

  “I have as much faith in my ship as I do in gravity. T
he simple fact remains that we’re going into unknown territory here, and the last thing we need to happen is to get stranded on some dead rock out there, well beyond the protection of the Inner Sphere. Unless, of course, you don’t actually mind being stranded out amongst the stars,” he waved his hand at the billowy clouds stretched out above the ship, “or God knows where else—alone… with me… forever.”

  She looked at him with wide eyes. “And your trusty mechanic can make sure that doesn’t happen?”

  “Absolutely.” The word sounded even less convincing coming out of his mouth than it did in his mind.

  “Very well, Captain. To Minos we go, and let’s not lollygag along the way.”

  Shawn gave her a mock bow. “Thanks for your permission, Captain.” He placed his hands firmly on the control wheel and pulled it slowly back towards his chest.

  Sylvia’s Delight slipped effortlessly off the landing pad near warehouse seven. A small cloud of dormant dust billowed up after her as her retro thrusters cycled off and the main drive engines took over the job of launching the craft into space. Rusted panels that were gripping the sides of the nearby dilapidated buildings with their last ounces of strength flew off in a dozen different directions under the onslaught of the Mark-IV’s powerful thrusters. The port and starboard engines then ignited simultaneously, each briefly illuminating with a burst of blue ion energy as the Mark-IV accelerated to full speed to break the power of Persephone’s gravitational hold. Minutes later the ship passed through the upper cloud layer on its way to the welcoming infinity of space.

  Chapter 8

  “I say again: Antara control, this is Captain Shawn Kestrel onboard Sylvia’s Delight, Hypervarion Mark-IV on final approach. Registry number 459-Zed-Zed-Alpha-9. I am requesting clearance to land at the Old Flamingo cargo terminal, Tericeria.” Shawn repeated the message for a second time, leaning into the microphone and trying not to look worried at the situation. After slowing in its decent to the surface of Minos, the nimble Mark-IV began a slow circling of the Antara islands—a pattern that had now lasted well over thirty minutes, an unheard of amount of time for Shawn to be on final approach. In fact, Shawn was hard pressed to remember the last time he’d been in any holding pattern whatsoever around the islands. With the exception of Jack’s Place, air traffic around the islands was light enough to be barely noticeable, much less hazardous.

  “How much longer is this going to take?” Melissa asked.

  Just as his patience began to wear thin—and before he could key up the microphone once more—a voice transmission laced with light static came back through the ships intercom. “Understood, Captain Kestrel. Please stand by while we run your authorization.”

  Shawn slid his head back from the control panel slowly. There was no way he could deny the peculiarity of the situation any longer. “That’s strange.”

  “I’d call it intolerable.” Melissa then noticed the perplexed look on his face. “Define ‘strange’, Mister Kestrel.”

  “They’re running my authorization codes.”

  “What’s so bizarre about that? I’d think such verification would be routine for any vessel requesting to make a planetary landing.”

  Shawn nodded slowly, then looked from the wide forward view port to Melissa. “As shocking as this is going to sound, I’d normally agree with you. However, in all my years of traveling through this region, the only time Antara control ever bothered to run my codes was the first couple of times I landed planet side. After that it never happened again.”

  She scoffed. “I’d be more concerned by the fact they never ran them again over the fact that they’re running them now. It sounds to me like they had some shoddy procedures in the past. Perhaps they’re making some security changes?”

  “Considering what Toyo told us about hostile fleet movements, I’d tend to agree, but it’s still peculiar. Especially considering we’re still well within protected Unified space.”

  “Sounds to me like you might be getting a little paranoid, Captain.”

  He looked at her with disapproval. ”There’s a fine line between being paranoid and being cautious, Miss Graves. If it seems that I’m being a little of both in order to safeguard my life, my ship, and the people onboard, then call it what you will.”

  She placed a hand lightly over her heart. “I’m honored that you put the value of my life somewhere on your list, Captain, but I don’t need you to take care of me. I can handle myself just fine.” Melissa kept her gaze fixed at the string of islands beyond the ship.

  “Yeah? You say that now, but it’s pretty hard to talk that way when a micrometeorite smashes through our hull and sucks out the atmosphere—not to mention letting in all that wonderful cold. It gets slightly drafty in space, you know?”

  On that point Melissa had to reluctantly agree, although she wouldn’t give the captain the audible satisfaction of such a disclosure. After a few more minutes of silence from the planet, even Melissa was beginning to wonder what was taking the port so long to authorize Sylvia’s Delight to land. If what Shawn said was true, there should’ve been little to no problem with clearing the vessel to land—assuming the captain didn’t have a backlog of unpaid parking citations or other such factors baring his landing. Just as she was about to ask him as much, the voice of the controller came back over the intercom.

  “Permission to land granted, Captain,” the voice said happily. “Welcome back to Minos.”

  “Thank you very much,” Shawn replied with agitation, then signed off the channel. “I’m going to have to talk to ground control. They probably got some new rookie in there that doesn’t know my ship from any other cargo vessel in the sector.”

  Melissa couldn’t help but get one final jab in just as the captain became too preoccupied to respond. “That’s hard to believe.”

  *

  The ship sent up a dust cloud of fine particulates as the thrusters brought the Mark-IV into a picture-perfect landing just outside the Old Flamingo’s hangar doors. As the loading ramp extended down from the back of the ship, Trent Maddox dashed up it to meet Shawn before either he or Melissa had a chance to get out.

  “This is a first,” Shawn said with surprise as his mechanic came within earshot.

  “Hey, man. Good to see you back safe and sound.” Trent was far more excited than usual, which immediately put Shawn on edge. Trent didn’t get excited about much and, when he did, it usually had something to do with half naked women, which Shawn didn’t see anywhere in sight.

  The captain peered from Melissa to Trent. “It wasn’t that exciting of a trip. Nothing I couldn’t handle, anyway. What’s with the grandiose welcoming? Normally you’d wait for me in the office and—”

  Trent began rubbing his hands together nervously. “Say, Captain… you didn’t have any problems getting back here, did you? I mean, there wasn’t any trouble or anything, was there?”

  “Problems?” Shawn asked as he looked to Melissa, who in turn shook her head in confusion. “No, no problems that I can think of. It did take us a little longer than usual to get clearance to land, but that wasn’t—”

  “Oh, well. That’s great. I mean, it’s unfortunate you had to wait so long, but I guess it could’ve been a lot worse. When you didn’t come straight in I was worried something might have happened to you.” Trent smiled nervously.

  “Something was going to happen to me? Like what?” Shawn asked with a chuckle. “I was just coming in for a simple landing. I’ve done in a hundred times.”

  “Oh, nothing. Nothing. It’s just that… well… I was worried and all. But you’re back safe and—”

  Shawn held up his hands, trying to calm his friend’s nervous chatter. “Slow down, pal. Worried about what? What are you talking about?”

  Trent looked cautiously around the cargo deck, then lowered his voice as if someone was overhearing their conversation. “Jack.”

  “Jack?” Both Shawn and Melissa said in unison, then looked queerly at one another.

  “Shhh,” T
rent hissed as he brought a finger to his mouth. “Jack De Lorme,” he whispered with care.

  “De Lorme?” Shawn replied, still using his full voice. “What the devil would he—”

  Trent quickly reached up and covered Shawn’s mouth with his free hand, effectively silencing the captain. “Keep it down, will you? Yes, Jack De Lorme! You get space dust in your ears or something?”

  Shawn, wide eyed that his mechanic had taken to such wild gestures, quickly nodded his head. Trent responded by withdrawing his hand from the captain’s mouth. Unfortunately, Trent must have been working on something rather dirty in the hangar before Sylvia’s Delight had landed. There was a perfect impression of his hand in the form of a dirt smudge across Shawn’s mouth.

  When Melissa saw the mark on Shawn’s face, she couldn’t stop a burst of muffled laughter from escaping past her lips. She reached into her handbag and withdrew a small piece of cloth and offered it to Shawn. “Here,” she said with a cheerful smile.

  He cocked an eyebrow, then lowered his voice—although he still had no idea why. “What’s that for?”

  “See for yourself,” Melissa replied, still chuckling and reaching into her bag once more to produce a small pocket mirror.

  Shawn gazed at the reflection and the wide, brownish smudge that extended from one cheek to the other. He looked to Trent in disbelief. “Geez, man. Don’t you ever wash those grubby mitts of yours?”

  “When the occasion calls for it.” Trent replied defensively.

  “Well, how about we make sure that the occasion calls for it more often, alright?”

  Trent looked to Melissa, who only nodded and smiled softly in return.

  “So, tell me what the big deal with Jack is?” Kestrel prodded as he finished wiping his face clean. “And why in the hell are we whispering in the cargo hold?”

  Trent leaned into Shawn and spoke ominously. “He came looking for you.”

  “Jack… came here?” Shawn had had never known De Lorme to make a personal call at the Old Flamingo—and he was sure that it would’ve been an occasion to remember.