CassaStar

by Cavanaugh, Alex J.

  Good thing they only do longs jumps, Bassa growled.

  Byron sagged in his seat. His shoulders ached from the intensity of the battle. As he brought the ship around, he caught sight of a Cosbolt motionless in space, and recognized his friend’s vessel at once. He could discern no visible damage, but Byron sensed something was very wrong.

  Ernx? he called. Ernx, talk to me!

  Nintal’s been hit by a disrupter! came the desperate reply.

  Bring your ship around, commanded Bassa. You’ve got to get him back to the Sorenthia immediately.

  He’s not answering me!

  Hearing the panic in Ernx’s voice, Byron pulled up beside their ship. Ernx, follow me, he instructed, hoping he could entice the frantic pilot to safety. Come on, Nintal needs help!

  Slowly, Ernx’s ship altered position. Byron throttled forward a few lengths and waited. His friend’s ship began to move, and the fighters glided toward the landing bay. Bassa informed the hanger medics of the incoming injured navigator. Judging from the exchange, Byron sensed Nintal was not the only casualty today.

  The ships landed without incident and taxied into the hanger together. The moment Ernx’s canopy retracted, he leapt out of the cockpit and turned to assist his navigator. Byron yanked off his helmet, his eyes on the pair as medical technicians rushed up the ladder. He scrambled to his feet and was down the service ladder before Bassa even exited the craft.

  Racing to Ernx’s ship, he paused as the medics brought Nintal down to the waiting gurney. His face was twisted with agony and Byron winced. Ernx grasped his friend’s hand as the navigator was stretched out on the gurney, his thoughts in turmoil. Aghast at the sight, Byron gently touched Ernx’s shoulder, hoping he could offer a measure of comfort. Ernx glanced up, his eyes wide with fear.

  “I couldn’t dive fast enough!” he exclaimed. “He took a direct hit.”

  “He’ll be all right,” assured Byron, feeling Ernx’s fear in the pit of his stomach

  The medics indicated they were ready to move Nintal. Byron glanced over his shoulder, seeking Bassa’s reassurance. His navigator had remained by their ship, and he met Byron’s gaze.

  Go with Ernx, he instructed.

  Byron nodded, although he felt uncomfortable with the situation. He followed the procession out of the hanger, his eyes on his friends. Ernx still held his navigator’s hand, talking to Nintal as they entered the telepod. The young man was too far gone in pain to hear the encouraging words, but his white-knuckled grip on Ernx’s hand revealed his awareness. No agony echoed in Nintal’s mind, as his senses were numb from the disrupter blast, but Ernx’s thoughts projected loud and clear. The ripples of fear and anger were overwhelming. If not for Bassa’s orders, Byron would’ve run from the unpleasant scene.

  Once they reached the medical facility, Ernx was forced to relinquish his friend’s hand. The technicians continued through the double doors, leaving Byron and Ernx behind. Unable to follow, Ernx stared in frustration at the doors, his mind a jumble of anxious emotions.

  Byron grasped his shoulder. Ernx gave no indication that he was aware of Byron’s presence and continued to stare ahead.

  “He took that hit full force,” he mumbled.

  Desperation emanated unchecked from Ernx. Unnerved by the emotional outpouring from his otherwise stable friend, Byron stared helplessly at the pilot. Beneath his fingertips, Ernx trembled.

  “I can’t even hear him …”

  Byron wished he knew how to comfort his friend. Fighting the urge to flee, as Ernx’s agony pounded at his senses, Byron scanned the waiting room. A bench sat unoccupied near the main entrance.

  “Come on,” he enticed, pulling on Ernx’s shoulder. “All you can do now is wait.”

  The distraught pilot allowed Byron to guide him to the bench and he dropped like a stone onto its surface. Ernx leaned forward, elbows on his knees and shoulders hunched, and grasped his hands together. He continued to stare at the double doors, and Byron sensed his deep longing to be with Nintal.

  “If he loses his senses,” Ernx murmured, “I’m not flying with another navigator.”

  “He won’t,” assured Byron. “And you can’t even think about that right now.”

  Ernx glanced at Byron, his eyes wide. “You don’t understand! We’ve been together since the beginning. Nintal’s my best friend and I refuse to fly with anyone else!”

  Stunned by the conviction in his friend’s voice, Byron stared at Ernx, at a total loss for words. Shaking his head, Ernx’s gaze dropped to the floor. Byron felt annoyed by his inability to comfort his friend and realized he lacked the skill. In the past, no one had ever comforted him, and he didn’t know how to reach out to another person.

  Unable to offer support in the manner he desired, Byron resorted to the only remaining option. He grasped Ernx’s shoulder, hoping his physical presence would suffice. His friend glanced in his direction and nodded before returning his gaze to the floor. With no further exchange, they awaited word of Nintal’s condition.

  An hour passed before a technician emerged to retrieve Ernx. His navigator was currently sleeping off the effects of the disrupter blast, but Ernx was free to wait by his side. Shooting Byron an anxious but thankful look, the pilot followed the medic into the main facility.

  Relieved his presence was no longer required, Byron retreated to his quarters. He felt exhausted on every level and his stomach rumbled from a lack of food. Grabbing a shower and a change of clothes, Byron went in search of a decent meal.

  The dining hall was still serving and he retrieved a tray of food. He’d felt the heavy mood of the room upon entering and few men remained. Byron toyed with the idea of returning to his quarters, but a light touch on his mind alerted him to Bassa’s presence. Locating his navigator with a small group of officers, Byron joined his friend. Bassa’s stable and wise nature was exactly what he needed right now.

  A couple men nodded as he joined them, sitting across from his partner. The older man’s expression was solemn but resigned as he regarded his pilot.

  “How’s Nintal?” he inquired.

  “Sleeping right now,” Byron replied, poking at his food with his fork. “I stayed with Ernx until he was allowed to see him.”

  “Sleep’s the kindest thing right now,” commented Wentar. “Especially when it feels as if your mind’s on fire.”

  Byron met his navigator’s eyes. “No wonder he was in so much pain,” he murmured.

  “Takes a day for the senses to return. Although sometimes they don’t,” Bassa added.

  Byron frowned, disturbed by that possibility. Recalling the sounds originating from behind the double doors in the medical facility, unnerving to those waiting in the main room, Byron suspected Nintal wasn’t the only injured man.

  There were several casualties today, Bassa answered in private. Three injuries in our squadron and … we lost Menth’s team.

  That news settled on Byron’s thoughts like a lead ball. He swallowed his half-chewed mouthful of food and reached for his water. Death was a very real possibility for those who flew fighters, but up to this point, their squadron had sustained no losses. Despite his feelings toward Menth and his navigator, their death was disconcerting.

  Reluctant to hear more on the matter, Byron instead concentrated on his food. The conversations around the table soon subsided as the men departed. By the time he finished eating, only Bassa remained to keep him company. Shoving aside his tray, Byron noticed that only four other officers remained in the hall. Leaning his elbows on the table, he met Bassa’s gaze.

  Are you all right? his navigator asked.

  Byron nodded, his eyes dropping to the table. Just really tired.

  How’s Ernx holding up?

  That question bothered Byron. He’s really worried about Nintal. Says he won’t fly without him.

  They’re a close team. I’m sure he appreciated your presence.

  Bassa’s comment sent a surge of emotion through Byron’s mind. He raised his shields in a
n effort to hide his feelings and inability to comfort Ernx. His ineptness as a friend continued to trouble him. Bassa’s comment regarding the team’s tight bond also bothered Byron. He doubted any man on the Sorenthia entertained similar thoughts about his bond with Bassa.

  Byron …

  Bassa’s prodding was light and not intended to feel intrusive. Relaxing his mental shields, he raised his head and met Bassa’s gaze. He sensed understanding in his navigator’s patient expression.

  “Don’t think I did any good,” Byron mumbled. “I didn’t know what to say, so I just sat with him.”

  “Sometimes that is enough.”

  His navigator’s words were accompanied by thoughts of reassurance. Byron suspected the comment carried a double meaning and applied to him as well. After all, he’d sought Bassa’s company knowing his friend’s presence would provide comfort.

  “Well, I may excel in the cockpit, but I sure lack everywhere else,” Byron grumbled, crossing his arms.

  “You don’t give yourself enough credit,” Bassa countered, leaning back in his seat.

  Byron shook his head. “I’m better with machines than I am with people.”

  “At one time, that may have been true. But not now. You are a far greater friend than you realize.”

  Raising his gaze, Byron stared at his navigator in disbelief. Why Bassa continued to see anything of value in him was beyond Byron. His navigator provided encouragement beyond his role in the cockpit, while Byron felt he contributed little to their friendship. Comforting Ernx was difficult enough. He doubted he’d even know how to respond if Bassa were injured.

  Bassa’s curious expression alerted Byron that his thoughts were completely exposed. Alarmed, he silenced his mental voice and shifted in his seat. His unguarded moments were occurring too often for his tastes and he couldn’t understand the reason for such frequent lapses.

  Offering a reassuring smile, Bassa sat up straight. “You are far more capable than you realize, Byron,” he stated, grasping his tray as he rose to his feet. “One day you will see that.”

  Unwilling to sit alone in the hall, Byron departed with his navigator. He felt drained by the day’s events, especially those that occurred after the fight with the Vindicarn. Byron hoped he could retire early this evening.

  Emerging from the telepod, Byron felt Bassa’s hand on his shoulder.

  “Don’t spend all night on your report,” he cautioned. “Get some rest. Tomorrow may be more of the same.”

  “Hope you follow your own advice,” Byron countered. Bassa’s fatigue was just as apparent.

  His navigator offered a smile. “I promise I will sleep hard tonight!”

  The morning held only drills for their squadron. The mood was subdued, but no one faltered in his flight pattern. The men were dismissed from the debriefing with a reminder that they were still on alert. After the previous day’s long morning patrol and afternoon battle, Byron hoped the remainder of his day was a little less eventful.

  Inquiring on his friends, he discovered they were now in Nintal’s quarters. The navigator’s senses were returning and Ernx seemed delighted his friend would soon return to full capacity.

  “I started hearing Nintal about two hours ago,” Ernx stated with pride, beaming at his partner. “We’ve been connecting and exchanging thoughts ever since!”

  His navigator returned his eager grin. Seated at his table, Nintal’s posture sagged, but his eyes sparkled with energy. The man’s thoughts were loud and echoed throughout the room, and Byron couldn’t miss the gratitude Nintal felt toward his pilot.

  “I’m wondering at what point he’ll tell me to shut up, too,” he teased.

  “Considering the alternative, you can chatter in my head all day long!” exclaimed Ernx.

  Byron smiled at their banter. It reminded him of Trindel and his comical monologue. He doubted his former navigator’s endless chatter in his head would be a pleasant experience, though.

  Ernx grasped the chair opposite Nintal with one hand. “The medics instructed me how to connect with Nintal and entice his senses to function again. My thoughts provided a path to follow. Now it’s just a matter of keeping the mental exchanges going while his mind grows strong again.”

  “You can’t imagine the lack of feeling,” Nintal said in a grave voice. “It was just nothingness until I heard Ernx’s voice in my head. I grabbed on to that sound as if my life depended on it. Ernx led me out of the darkest place I’ve ever known.”

  The depth of conviction and feelings of gratitude broadcast strongly from Nintal. Ernx ducked his head, as if embarrassed by his friend’s assessment of the situation. However, the exchange that passed between the men spoke of great friendship and trust.

  Shifting his position, Byron cleared his throat. “I’ll leave you to continue the healing process,” he offered, nodding at Nintal. “Glad you’ll recover.”

  The man smiled and Byron felt a hand on his shoulder.

  “Thanks for waiting with me yesterday,” Ernx said in earnest, his gratitude transparent and obvious with his mental shields lowered. “That really meant a lot to me.”

  “Least I could do,” Byron countered, eager to leave the room.

  Once out in the hallway, he breathed a sigh of relief. The lack of mental inhibitions had almost overwhelmed his senses. Byron was relieved Nintal would regain his mental abilities, as navigators needed to communicate telepathically with their pilots. Ernx would not be forced to make a career- changing decision. Judging from their commitment level, neither man would’ve continued without the other.

  Byron wondered if he was that devoted to Bassa and decided not to dwell on that thought.

  Bassa poked at the remaining food on his plate, contemplating his next bite. Constant dogfights for four days straight had taken its toll on his body and he found he possessed no appetite. Giving up the effort, he dropped his fork on the tray.

  Byron glanced up from his meal. “Nothing tastes good tonight,” he observed, hunching further over his plate.

  Rubbing his forehead, Bassa leaned away from the table. He glanced around the room, which was rather quiet considering the amount of officers present. Everyone seemed too tired to waste precious energy on verbal conversation. Bassa felt his shoulders sag at the thought of another day of battle. He was growing too old to maintain such a pace.

  “Are you going to make it?” asked Byron.

  His gaze returning to his pilot, Bassa nodded. “I’m as able as you.”

  “That’s not saying much right now,” the young man mumbled.

  Byron stabbed at his food, as if searching for an edible piece. Uttering a growl of disgust, he shoved aside the tray. Crossing his arms, Byron leaned against the table.

  “At least they could serve food with flavor,” he charged. Byron frowned as he scanned the room. “I didn’t see Hannar tonight. He wasn’t injured, was he?”

  “His mate went into labor,” Bassa explained, resting his arm on the chair beside him. “He remained in his quarters so he can concentrate on the experience with her.”

  Byron’s expression turned to one of disbelief. “He can hear her all the way out here?”

  “Yes. Bonded mates can hear one another at all times.”

  “Oh,” the young man said, his thoughts still confused. “Didn’t realize bonding was that strong.”

  “It’s the most powerful connection between two people. And it’s permanent.”

  That fact obviously bothered Byron. “Not sure I’d like that,” he declared, scrunching further into his seat.

  “You may one day,” said Bassa, amused by his friend’s reluctance.

  “You’ve never had a mate.”

  “No, I haven’t.”

  “Why not?”

  Byron’s directness caused him to pause as he pondered his response. “I got close once, but it didn’t work out,” he finally admitted.

  “Any regrets?”

  “I often wonder,” Bassa mused, contemplating that thought. “My life
would’ve been different.”

  “You wouldn’t be out here risking your neck for me?” Byron teased.

  Bassa offered a weak smile. “Probably not. But I’ve no regrets being your navigator.”

  Byron emitted a short bark of laughter. “I’d like to think I’m a poor replacement for a real mate.”

  That triggered a sense of the ridiculous in Bassa. “Well, you do lack in certain areas,” he observed, one eyebrow cocked.

  “Can’t help you there!”