by L. E. Thomas
Could this smoke be from another crash site? Had more ships crashed to the surface during the battle? Or, perhaps, it was the valley where she’d dropped the Serpents in their attempts at securing the Wraith’s escape?
The Wraith.
Her thoughts drifted to Austin. Thank the stars he was alive. His face flashed in her mind. She thought of him swimming in the warm waters of Oma, his body next to hers in their room in Seaside. He had asked her to stay forever. Now, in the wilderness of a planet in the middle of nowhere, she wished she had gone AWOL and stayed with him.
If she wanted to see him again, she needed to get away from this crash site. She thrust the binoculars back into her pack and continued moving away from the site of her wrecked escape pod.
The daylight faded, revealing a sky full of stars. Other than her brief experience on Flin Six, Ryker had never visited an uncharted planet.
She smiled. Flin Six.
Austin had come to the worthless ball of dust for her, despite all orders to flee back to Tarton’s Junction. He had been a rookie Star Runner.
No, she thought, he had not even been finished with flight school at the time. But he’d risked his life to save her and Jonathan Nubern. She had never witnessed such devotion from anyone, let alone anyone caring for … her.
Austin always looked at her and not the image she tried to project. He never saw a flight instructor or, later, a Captain. Despite all the terrible things she’d said to him about hiding their relationship, he never broke a promise. He never sought revenge. He loved her. And she loved him.
She leaned back against a mushroom and gazed into the sky. Nothing moved across the blackness. Peering into the stars, she prayed Austin could hear her thoughts. Would you rescue me again? Would that be too much to ask?
Smiling, she stretched her legs. Other than bruises and cuts, the crash had done little to affect her body. She took a long, slow drink from one of her three canteens. The water soothed her throat. Taking a deep breath, she sat in silence as a soft breeze moved through the field of mushrooms. She leaned her head back into the soft trunk and closed her eyes.
Before the daylight faded, she had walked through the wilderness for six hours in an attempt to put distance between the escape pod and her current position. Any Zahlian forces coming to inspect the crash site would be sorely disappointed. If Legion forces arrived, well, that’s where the Whisper would come in handy.
She pulled the transmitter out of her satchel and held it in her hand for a moment. Casting a wary eye on the empty sky, she activated the Whisper.
“Mayday, mayday,” she murmured. “Downed Star Runner requesting assistance. Please respond.”
Static answered her.
Sighing, she thrust the Whisper back into the satchel and crossed her arms over her chest.
She was alone.
She imagined Austin wrapping his arms around her; she closed her eyes. She thought she felt his breath on her neck, his strong arms holding her.
Her rank … her career meant nothing to her now. If she—when she made it through this, things would be different. Her career was important, but her love for Austin transcended everything else. She thought he knew that … she hoped he did.
“I’ll give you everything I’ve got.”
It was the last thing she’d said to him.
The crackling of the gamma wave during Austin’s last transmission buzzed in her mind as she closed her eyes.
“I know. You always have.”
A laser blast ripped through the air. Her heart felt as if it would explode. She gasped. A cold sweat covered her. With her eyes wide, she searched the darkness.
The sound echoed off the rocks and soon faded.
Pressing against the mushroom, she controlled her breathing. Blood rushed through her ears with each heartbeat. The feeling reminded her of being awakened as a child on Lian. During her time in the bunkers under the war-torn world, artillery fire often ripped her from sleep—sometimes several times a night. Even though it had been years since she had been on Lian, the memories lingered.
She stared at the stars and listened. Nothing.
The laser blast had originated from the distance, but the bolt had not landed close. And there had only been one.
One laser shot seemed deliberate. Two would have been careless. She remembered a line from some of her post-Gauntlet survival training: Two shots and your enemy can locate your position.
What if the Serpents were still in the valley? She thought of where she’d dropped the men out of her Karda to defend the Wraith. While their mission to protect the stolen fighter had obviously been successful, had they survived? Perhaps she should head in that direction.
Yes, she thought, I’ll do that at first light.
The moment light illuminated the ground, she stood and headed in the direction of the valley where she hoped the Serpents remained. Shaking away a lingering thought that she might be waltzing into a detachment of Zahlian Marines, she started walking up a hill covered in a mix of trees and a collection of mushrooms.
Taking a drink from her canteen, she drained the first day’s ration. Two more remained in her satchel, but it might not be a bad idea to keep an eye out for more water sources. She had no idea how long she would be on the small moon.
By midday, she’d reached the second summit. She paused and surveyed the horizon. Black smoke in the distance transitioned to faint streaks like eraser marks on a piece of paper. She shook her head.
It was still far away, she thought. She wouldn’t make it today. Night would fall in a few hours, and rolling hills covered the ground between this position and her target.
Turning her binoculars to the land in front of her, she swept from left to right and saw no water. Trees and strange mushrooms dotted the landscape. Perhaps she could find water down there and a place to sleep.
She worked her way down the hill, her eyes flicking from the sky to the ground. If a Zahl ship were coming, she’d hear it long before it came within weapon’s range. If the ARC was still in orbit, however, well, it didn’t matter what she did—they’d find her.
Her thoughts drifted to Austin. The battle had granted her an instant to realize he had survived and was at the stick of the Wraith. For all she knew, his staged death was only one aspect of an undercover mission to steal the Wraith.
There were so many questions she wanted to ask him, but one surpassed all others and lingered in her mind. When she saw him again, she would ask Austin to hold her and never let go. She didn’t care about why he left or the details of his mission. She wanted him and him alone. Forever.
Sure, she thought, if I ever see him again.
Passing under the cover of the taller trees at the base of the ravine, she stepped through the damp grass and allowed her eyes a moment to adjust. Cooler air surrounded her. She reached out and touched the moss-covered bark on the trees. It felt soft and damp under her fingertips. The plant life opened up to a clearing, revealing the rapidly darkening sky. She stopped in front of a giant mushroom at the center of the clearing and dropped her satchel. Leaning her head back, she allowed the faint rays of the world’s star to warm her face.
She collapsed next to the mushroom with a grunt, her muscles sore. Opening the satchel, she took three gulps of water before remembering to conserve. She ripped open one of the protein bars and took a bite, trying to imagine she was chewing a fresh apple or chocolate … or anything but this powdery bar with the consistency of sand grinding between her teeth.
The bottom of this ravine had no river like she had hoped, but the trees grew far enough apart to allow a clear view of the surrounding area.
Finishing the protein bar, she leaned back against the mushroom’s trunk and gazed into the stars. She pulled out the Whisper and ran through diagnostics. The device seemed to be operating normally. Closing her eyes, she called out into the darkness. Perhaps this was the time someone would hear her distress call.
After trying three times, she shut down the Whisper to
conserve power. She placed it back into her satchel and zipped it closed. Pulling her pistol from its holster, she checked the weapon’s energy level. Full, just as she expected. She stared back at the sky, wondering if the Legion would send a rescue mission to a remote moon inside Zahlian Space.
Austin would have insisted on a rescue mission. Braddock would have, too. She hadn’t been Captain long, but she was sure some of the Thirty-Second Tizona would want to save her as well. If she had known Austin was still alive following his staged funeral, Ryker would have gone after him. Maybe that was why Braddock and Horace decided not to tell her about the mission?
A cold reality fell over her.
They think I am dead.
In the chaos of battle, she knew all too well it was easy to lose track of casualties in the vacuum of space. Star Runners missing in action happened more often when the conflicts occurred close to Zahl territory. Without the ability to mount a rescue operation in Zahlian Space, the Legion might have to accept the losses as an unfortunate price of the mission.
She sighed. They may never come.
What was that?
Ryker leaned forward and strained to focus. Something moved in the stars.
Shaking her head and wiping her eyes, she stared into the area where she thought she saw movement.
There! Another flicker caught her eye … something wavering. A flash of light sparkled. Was that a curvature drive opening?
Her heartbeat increased as she fumbled with the binoculars.
“Please,” she whispered, pressing the binoculars to her eyes.
She swept the sky and froze on an object moving across the heavens. Magnifying the view, she focused. It had to be a vessel of some kind as it was too large for a satellite.
Wetting her lips, she breathed through her mouth and watched the unknown ship sail across the sky. Her heart sank once its shape came into focus. It didn’t have the angular shape of the Legion’s Parazonium-class carrier.
The vessel slowed and changed direction. She held her breath as the ship increased in size and altered its position in orbit.
And then she recognized a colossal cannon protruding from the bow of the ship.
An ARC.
Ryker lowered the binoculars and lowered her gaze. A Zahlian ARC had just entered orbit above her quiet little moon.
And she was alone.
CHAPTER TWELVE
The ARC fell into low orbit after passing overhead and out of sight for most of the night. When it reappeared, it seemed all the larger. It slowed overhead, moving at a snail’s pace. Then it stopped, lingering in the sky for about eighty minutes before dropping four points of light.
The four sparks descended like embers falling off a burning branch. They fell together, in line. Ryker held her breath, staring at the heavens without using the binoculars.
Pursing her lips, she watched the smaller vessels. Please go away. Go somewhere else. Go into the valley and recover whatever it is you left on this world.
The ships broke their formation, shooting across the sky in multiple directions. The ships hit the atmosphere, forming a streak across the early morning sky. One shot toward the east, another to the west. A third vessel headed on a trajectory toward the valley. But the fourth … the fourth ship …
Standing up next to the mushroom, she raised the binoculars to her face. Please no.
The fourth vessel, a growing point of light, increased in size. She peered through the binoculars, finding the burning orb as the atmosphere battled against the ship’s shields. The flames brightened and beamed. She squinted, unwilling to turn away from the vessel.
The flames went out. She saw the ship in detail for the first time, the position lights blinking in the dawn sky, bearing down on her position.
She studied the craft coming in without fighter escort. It looked like one of the modular drop ships she had read about in her intelligence briefings; a favorite new toy of the mobile and improved Zahlian Navy. The drop ships enabled the ARCs to respond to all manner of incidents including using the module for transporting a detachment of Marines. Staring at the incoming craft, she couldn’t tell what type of module it carried. She didn’t need to know.
They were coming.
She sprinted through the thick forest, searching for any means of hiding. Scanners could probably penetrate the woods and fungi using an infrared scanner. With no wildlife on this moon, her heat signature would glow like a beacon on any sensors. Sweat dripped down her forehead, burning as it entered her eyes. She stopped next to a tree, gasping for breath.
Thunder rumbled in the distance, the rolling sound echoing off the trees and echoing around her.
That wasn’t thunder.
Pulling out her pistol, she continued running. Tripping twice on the uneven surface, she yanked herself back to her feet. She didn’t know what she was running to, but she ran until her muscles ached.
A jet engine rumbled. She heard the distinct whine of an engine slowing from its rapid descent. Peering through the treetops, she searched for the incoming vessel. She tightened her grip on the pistol. Seeing nothing through the trees, she started running again.
“ATTENTION, STAR RUNNER! ATTENTION!”
The voice exploded through the forest like the voice of God. Ryker halted, holding her breath. Her face trembled, her fingers rattling on the butt of her pistol. She looked up without tilting her head backward as if the very movement would give away her position.
“GOOD. STAY WHERE YOU ARE. YOU ARE NOW A PRISONER OF THE ZAHLIAN NAVY.”
Ryker exhaled and bent over, placing her hands on her knees. Prisoner? She had heard all the horror stories of what the Zahl Empire did to captured Star Runners during the last war. The talents of the Legion Star Runners were legendary throughout the galaxy, and the Zahl Empire had long sought to improve the quality of their pilots instead of relying on quantity. She shuddered as she recalled the tales; they would torture pilots to learn their secrets or, more often, place them in unarmed and aged fighters for use as target practice.
No, she thought, I’m not going out that way.
Adrenaline shot through her body. She bolted through the trees. Branches scratched at her face, ripping through flesh on her forehead like sharp tentacles trying to prevent her from escaping. Tearing off the top part of her flight suit, she felt the cold air surround her undershirt, reviving her. She swung the satchel back over her shoulder and continued running.
“THERE IS NO ESCAPE, STAR RUNNER. HALT!”
The forest broke ahead, revealing the sky for the first time. An opening meant a creek or a river. A fierce blast of wind hit, sending the trees swaying. Beams of light shot down through the leaves as she crouched next to a tree. Breathing heavily, she craned her neck to stare at the opening. A creek cut through the forest. She heard the water trickle over rocks. Off to her right, boulders went up an incline.
Perhaps there was a mountain or even a cave? The drop ship hovered over the creek, the force from its engines sending ripples across the water. She didn’t have time to think about it.
Pushing off a tree, she ran parallel to the creek at the edge of the forest to maintain cover. An explosion ignited the woods on the far side of the water. She recoiled, ducking down as she continued running. Fire ripped through the treetops, sending a heatwave through the forest. They were trying to box her in, blocking her escape route.
The tree cover slackened and, suddenly, ended. The stream disappeared into the rocky face of the hill. She spun around and froze.
The drop ship hovered a few feet over the creek, the lights beaming down on her like she stared into the face of a star. The wind whipped branches and leaves across the creek in the faint light of dawn. She stared at the ship, her hands shaking.
“DROP THE WEAPON.”
The bright light blinded her, and she only saw spots. Boots splashed into the creek. Marines were coming. She found it difficult to move. She knew weapons targeted her at that moment, ready to fire.
Glancing over h
er shoulder, she saw the creek vanishing into a cave in the side of the hill. If the Zahlian forces wanted to kill her, they would have done so by now. She calculated how many steps it would take her to reach the cave. She could make it if she moved now.
Staring back into the light, she realized Austin wouldn’t want her to give up. He wouldn’t want to lose her to a shortened life of torture and despair. Better to go now—on my terms.
She raised the pistol and fired. Bolts shot into the light. She fired three times, turning toward the cave and shooting blindly behind her. Blue bolts sizzled around her like lightning. They were trying to taze her. One bolt clipped her right tricep, tingling like an electric shock. The muscle went numb.
The cave’s entrance was within reach. She dove into the darkness. Tumbling down, her body cracked across the wet rocks. The gun ripped from her grip as she fell, rolling into the crevice.
And then she plunged into frigid water.
Gasping for air, she kicked and tried to swim. She reached ahead, feeling around in the darkness as she powered forward. Her muscles tightened, burning and stinging in the cold water. Her body wanted to quit. She forced herself ahead.
Ryker hit something. The surface felt slimy under her hand, but it was a hard surface. She pulled herself up on the slick boulder and collapsed. Gasping for breath, she turned around on her back. Far above was a sliver of daylight, she saw movement at the cave’s entrance.
Get up.
Her body refused to move. She felt cuts and scrapes all over, tasted the salt of blood on her lips.
Get up, Captain.
Grunting, she stood on wobbly legs. She thrust a hand into her satchel, found the light and turned it on. She had landed in an underground river, flowing into the shadows. Glancing back up at the light, she knew there were only two choices before her: get captured or start walking.
Ignoring the pain in her legs and feet, she made her way along the side of the river.