Scorpions (Star Runners Book 4)

by L. E. Thomas

  “Hound, Rescue One. Prize is secure. We are opening the curve.”

  “Well done, Rescue One. Scorpions, let’s follow them. Let’s go home.”

  As the other Tridents turned around, Austin pinged the fleeing fighter one more time with his sensors and received eleven hundred MUs as the distance.

  Wait a minute, he thought. He ran another sensor sweep. Interceptor was eight hundred MUs.

  “Hound, Rock,” he transmitted. “Bandit has turned and is moving to intercept!”

  “Stand by,” Wilkos said, his voice full of strain.

  The Interceptor shot toward the border, screaming hard on their position. Its sensors reflected off Austin’s Trident, but attempted no missile lock. What was this pilot doing?

  Fifty MUs to the border.

  Thirty.

  Ten.

  At five MUs from the border, the Interceptor unleashed a full spread of six missiles and pulled up. The fighter moved away in one fluid movement, heading back toward Zahlian Space.

  “Missiles incoming,” Wilkos said. “Scramble to intercept! Cheetah, Bear, you got the best position. Take the four bearing down on Rescue One. The rest of you take out the remaining two missiles. They’re searching for a target.”

  The Scorpions scattered, flying toward the incoming missiles. Austin lined up his crosshairs on the closest target. Ignoring the beeping signaling the weapon was trying to lock onto his signal, Austin went directly for the fast-moving projectile. He dropped within fifty MUs and unleashed his guns. Laser bolts showered around the missile. One bolt hit the nose, erupting into a brilliant ball of fire.

  “Nice shot, Rock!” Sorn yelled.

  Austin smiled, glancing down at his sensors. The Star Runners had destroyed all the incoming missiles except for one. He banked the Trident and searched the darkness. Catching the faint trail, he saw it on the other side of Point Solitude, bearing down on the empty Interceptor the Prize had just left. The missile crashed into the Interceptor’s cockpit, vaporizing the abandoned ship.

  “Mission accomplished, Scorpions,” Wilkos said. “We have the Prize. Form up for our linked curve. Let’s go home.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  An emaciated woman was slumped in a wheelchair at the front of the briefing room. Two medics stood at her side, an IV above the woman’s head. What remained of her hair stuck to her scarred scalp. Several old wounds covered her head in different locations. Staring at the woman’s pasty skin and the fresh bruises covering her body, Austin Stone winced as his stomach twisted.

  In his final days, Dad had suffered from the effects of his cancer in ways Austin would rather not remember. He still had the twinkle in his eyes whenever Austin entered the room, but the life behind those eyes slowly faded in the final weeks. Mom warned him she didn’t know how much longer his father would be able to hold on. Shielding himself from the tragedy of losing Dad, Austin started walling himself off from the reality of seeing his father lose the battle, and he’d pushed the memories far from his mind.

  But seeing the shell of a woman at the front of the room pierced his heart in a way he hadn’t expected. Someone had done this to her. Unlike the situation with cancer taking his father, another person had carried out this terrible torture on this woman. He swallowed, fighting back the thought of Ryker going through the same.

  Shifting in his seat, he wanted to rush to the woman and help her. He wanted to scream at the top of his lungs to find out what had happened and what the woman knew. Instead, he restrained himself and sat back in his seat, cracking his knuckles.

  Sitting next to him, Skylar grabbed his forearm and squeezed.

  Major Cayo Wilkos had ordered them to the briefing room immediately following their return to the Formidable. The Scorpions were still carrying their helmets and flight tablets when the major closed the hatch and bolted it shut. Austin had expected an emergency debriefing but never imagined the “Prize” would be brought in front of them so soon.

  Wilkos sat in the first row with Captain Manami Senza and Major Jonathan Nubern, their eyes fixated on the weak pilot. Whispering to the other commanding officers, Wilkos nodded and stood before the Star Runners.

  “The pilot, also known as the ‘Prize’ during our recent mission,” Wilkos said in a soft voice, “wanted to speak with you all immediately. Against my better judgment and the opinion of the medical staff, I have called you all here. She has impressed upon us the fact that time is of the essence.” He glanced back at the woman and nodded. “It is my honor to introduce to you Lieutenant Lena Janas of the Seventh Tarnex.”

  The Scorpions gasped in unison as they recoiled back in their seats. Austin heard many of his comrades asking what he was already thinking.

  “She’s a Star Runner?”

  “How did this happen?”

  “Why was she flying an Interceptor?”

  “What did they do to her?”

  Wilkos placed his hands on his hips. “Silence!” He lowered his gaze. “Cut the chatter and give this warrior—your comrade—your full and undivided attention.”

  The conversations ceased, and the Scorpions shifted in their seats.

  Lena Janas raised her head. Her eyelids blinked slowly over sunken eyes. A curl formed on one side of her lips in a crooked smile. With a trembling hand, she offered a half-salute as she looked at the Star Runners.

  “You d-d-don’t know how good it was to see you … on the other s-side of the b-border,” she whispered, her voice sounding like air released from a tire. “Thank you for coming to save me.”

  Austin nodded, leaning forward in his seat and hanging on her every word.

  “The reason I do not … have much t-time is I do not know how much longer I have.” Tapping her ear with an index finger, she lowered her head into her left hand and sighed. “They tortured us. All … of us for months … years. I don’t know how long. They put things in our heads … trying to control our actions. Many died. Many are still there.”

  “Lena,” Wilkos said, “what do they want with you? How did you escape?”

  Raising her head, Lena looked at Wilkos and lifted her wrist. For the first time, Austin noticed a bracelet on her arm. “They put an implant in our heads. It is designed to detonate if we attempt to … flee. This device jams the signal … and allowed me t-t-to escape. But something is w-wrong.”

  She gasped for air, and her eyes rolled back into her head. Steadying herself, she continued, “They tried to turn us into pilots. Had us … flying missions for them on their side … b-b-blockading ports … killing …”

  Lena’s head fell back against the chair. The medics rushed forward. The taller one, a broad-shouldered man who looked like he’d stepped off the cover of a magazine, glared toward Wilkos.

  “We need to get her to surgery, Major,” the medic said through clenched teeth.

  Ignoring the medic, Wilkos walked toward Lena. “Do you remember where the other Star Runners are being held? Lena! Where did you come from? Do you remember?”

  Lena lifted her head off the chair’s head rest. “N-Nesteel.” She nodded, her eyes darting around the room. “Yes. They—we—were—kept at Nesteel. They are being … being moved to a station …”

  “Major!” the medic pleaded. “We need to take her to surgery.”

  Wilkos nodded. The Scorpions watched in silence as the medics wheeled Lena out of the room. The major stood for a moment before following the group out into the corridor and down the hall.

  Austin stared down at the metal spoon hovering over the starchy mush of protein goo on his plate. The food in the Formidable’s galley tasted as bland as it had during his first assignment on the carrier. He sipped at the recycled water and tried not to think of its origin. Out here on the border, reclamation systems on the carriers meant the water came from … any number of places.

  Raising his head, he surveyed the sparsely populated room. Three enlisted starmen were gathered together near the entrance, leaning over their meals. Their lively discussion centered o
n the secret new squadron and offered various hypotheses on what they were doing for the Legion. Austin smiled, remembering the hours of gossip coming from cafeterias, starting with high school when he and Josh had nearly gotten in a massive fistfight with other students, to the mess hall on Tarton’s Junction. The memories went by in a blink.

  Sighing, he slumped his shoulders and stared at a particular table two rows from his own.

  Yes, he thought, the memories flew past no matter how much he wanted to get time to slow down.

  With his eyes on the specific table, he conjured up an image of Ryker sitting there shortly after they had arrived on the ship. Beautiful in her crisp Tizona uniform, she had been talking with other officers. Austin hadn’t known it at the time, but she was about to be promoted, and their relationship would never be the same.

  He winced and took another drink of water.

  She’s not dead, he thought. After all this time.

  “There you are,” Skylar said, marching into the room. “I was wondering where you had run off to.”

  Austin frowned. “I didn’t run off. Major Nubern dismissed us after Wilkos followed that Star Runner we took back from the border. I came in here. Wanted to be alone.”

  Skylar stopped a few paces from the table. “Well, sorry. I didn’t want to bother you.”

  Austin sighed and looked away. Shaking his head, he realized how much he didn’t want to talk to anyone at the moment. With the constant lump in his throat, he didn’t want to have any heartfelt conversations. In fact, being in a Trident on patrol was the only place he wanted to be.

  After hesitating, Skylar sat at his table.

  “I know this has been tough on you.”

  “Been tough on everyone.”

  Her eyebrows lowered. “You don’t have to pretend with me, you know.”

  Austin shook his head. “What do you mean?”

  Skylar’s eyes narrowed. “It means I knew you before you were ‘Rock: Hero of the Star Runners.’ You try to put on this front to show how tough you are because everyone’s always talking about your talent, but you forget I know you. And so does Bear.”

  He felt the blood rush to his face. “I don’t put on a front.”

  “Yes, you do. You’ve done so since she died. Everyone knows about Ryker.” She shook her head, placing her hand over his own. “I can’t imagine how that must have made you feel. But I’ve seen you trying to laugh with Nubern and continue like nothing’s happened. It’s okay to be sad, Austin.”

  “I don’t have time to mope around, Sky.” Swallowing, he stared down at the table and slid his finger around the tray. “She’s wearing the enemy’s uniform. What if … what if she’s lost?”

  “You don’t mean that. You know her better than I do, but I can’t imagine a galaxy where Ryker Zyan would betray the Legion.” She offered a faint smile. “It doesn’t make sense.”

  Austin looked at her. “I hope you’re right. Ever since I saw it, I keep telling myself she’s been forced to do it. I have to believe that … we’re on the right side. Aren’t we? What if she found out something we don’t know?”

  Her smile faded. “You think that?”

  Shaking his head, he buried his face in his hands. “I don’t know what I’m saying. I just … I just want her back. I hate to say this, but—never mind.”

  “No,” she whispered, “you can tell me.”

  Lowering his hands, he looked at the floor. “It was unbearably hard when I thought she died. Not knowing why she’s in the Zahlian uniform has been even harder.”

  The table with the enlisted men burst into laughter, shattering the silence in the room.

  “Serpents?” one of them asked. “I’ll believe that when I see it.”

  Skylar glanced over her shoulder. She turned back to Austin and raised her eyebrows. “Remember when that was us?”

  “I think so,” he said. “Seems like a long time ago.”

  The ship-wide intercom whistled, the tone signaling a transmission from Commander Mitchem Horace.

  “Attention,” his voice echoed down the hall. “Attention. Lieutenant Stone, will you report to the Commander’s quarters immediately.”

  The message repeated.

  “Guess I’m getting fired, “Austin said, standing with his tray. “You want to finish this?”

  Skylar shook her head. “I’m good. What’s this about?”

  “I have no idea.” Reaching out with his free hand, he tapped her shoulder. “I know I’m not much fun to be around. I don’t say it enough, but thank you for caring.”

  “Always.”

  “See you later.”

  Austin dumped his tray and headed for Commander Horace’s quarters.

  “Please come in, Lieutenant,” Commander Horace said with a slight grin and nod. “Good to see you again.”

  Austin stepped past the Marine guards and into the Commander’s quarters, which were smaller than he expected. They weren’t much bigger than his quarters on the Formidable. One modest desk sat in the center of the room in front of a gray shelf with books and binders. Majors Nubern and Wilkos stood in front of a small, black couch on the right side of the room, concerned expressions on their faces. The hatch creaked shut behind him, and the officers sat down.

  “We need to speak plainly with you, Stone,” Horace said, gesturing for Austin to sit in the remaining open chair in front of his desk. “We don’t have much time.”

  Nodding, Austin sat and looked out the small porthole behind Horace’s seat. Two Tridents shot past in quick succession. Taking a deep breath, Austin glanced at Nubern and Wilkos.

  “I’ll begin,” Horace said, clearing his throat. “We have finished questioning the Star Runner, who just came across the border. She’s now in surgery.”

  “Will she survive?”

  Horace tilted his head. “We’re not sure. She’s given us a lot of information to add to what we already know about this technology, but she’s got a long road to recovery if she survives. The information she’s provided put me in the position of making a decision.”

  Austin nodded. “I see, sir.”

  “As you are well aware, being way out here can cause quite the lag in communication with our core worlds. This results in the carrier’s Skipper being forced into making calls.” Horace glanced at Wilkos and back at Austin, his eyes full of concern. “The fact is, Lieutenant, I am going to have to ask for you to serve above and beyond. Again. Given what you went through the last time you were on my ship, I have, well, reservations about giving you this assignment, but I’m afraid we have no choice. I’ll let your CO explain.”

  Wilkos leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “There may be older and more experienced Star Runners on board, Stone, but your record is flawless. I hate to speak for Nubern, but I know you have the faith of both of us here.”

  Austin sighed. “Please, sir, just tell me. I’m willing to do whatever you need.”

  Glancing at Nubern, Wilkos nodded. “I know you are. For this next mission, we need the best Star Runner we have, but we also need one that speaks the Zahl language. I have been told you received an implant on a previous mission that allows you to understand the language, yes?”

  Austin nodded. “Yes, sir.”

  “And it’s still operational?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Closing his eyes, Wilkos sighed. “Excellent. A translator could be affected by a stunner, but your body should protect the implanted device.”

  Nubern cleared his throat. “Lieutenant Janas was able to give us some information before she went under. It appears Star Runners and other pilots are being held either on Nesteel or in a station orbiting the planet. She said more were being brought in very soon for what she called the ‘treatment.’ She couldn’t explain what this meant, but it couldn’t have been good.”

  Austin’s pulse quickened. “Is this what could have happened to Ry—Captain Zyan?”

  Nubern pursed his lips. “We aren’t sure about her, Lieutenant. This mi
ssion would be about more than Captain Zyan. Based on what Janas has said and the statistics on MIA Star Runners, there could be nearly two dozen officers caught behind enemy lines. Janas believes they are about to undergo this treatment, which has to mean the Zahl will implant more devices into their bodies.”

  “And I’m not willing to let that happen,” Horace said, crossing his arms over his chest. “The Formidable will remain here. I have sent a transmission to Command about my decision, but it’ll take time to get there.”

  Austin nodded. “What’s my part in all this?”

  Wilkos smiled. “This mission is going to be dangerous.”

  “They always are.”

  “True.” Wilkos opened his tablet. “We are going to strip down your Trident and turn it into a flying gas can. That means no laser power or missiles in order to make room for additional energy pods. This will allow more power for your shroud. Now, Nesteel’s a hell of a long way from this position. We have plotted four curve points for you across the border—all of them bringing you to remote locations such as moons or uninhabited gas giants for you to plot your next curve. Except for the last one. The point right before Nesteel is right in the middle of the Naroovian Salvage Yard.”

  Austin frowned. “Salvage yard? Won’t that be monitored?”

  Wilkos shook his head. “It’s got thousands of ships dumped by the merchant marines and the Zahl Navy. The worst you’ll run into is a salvage team, but no one keeps an eye on this place. Just like the other points, you’ll have to move quickly, and there will be no means of a rescue.”

  Clenching his teeth, Austin remembered a similar feeling when he was ordered to steal the Wraith.

  “Our long-range telescopes cannot get any detailed information about Nesteel, and our intelligence on the planet is very limited since a revolution was defeated. Your mission will be to land in a remote area of Nesteel and observe. Your Trident will be loaded with listening devices programmed with all known encryption codes to enable you to record and listen in on communications by the Zahl. You will only have about twelve hours of power until your shroud gives out, so you will have to be on your way back by then. Any questions?”