by L. E. Thomas
She avoided his eyes, focusing on the floor. “It appears the device melted down inside her brain, causing some damage. Doctor Tolar said it might have completely detonated if not for the jamming device Towers carried. It probably saved her life.”
Austin exhaled, having not realized he had held his breath. Glancing at Nubern, he looked back to the nurse. “Are you going to remove the implant?”
Tomas pursed her lips. “There is still so much we don’t understand about this device. We were able to confirm it has been deactivated, but it may cause more damage to remove it.”
His stomach turned. “What does that mean?”
“It means she may never fully recover,” she said.
Nubern placed both hands on Austin’s shoulders and pressed down.
His thoughts drifted to Ryker’s smile, her laughter, the excitement on her face when she climbed out of the beautiful blue waters of Oma. Further back, he recalled the first day she’d marched into his classroom and he realized the infamous “Scorpion” was actually a gorgeous woman.
Working out in the weight room, Ryker always had sweat glistening on her forehead and a thrill in her face at finishing a set. And her abilities in a Trident, oh, how she flew that fighter. She did things other Star Runners thought were impossible, and she never knew how good she truly was behind the stick. She was like that about everything, never accepting how precious she was in every way.
Would she ever be able to do any of it again?
“Ma’am,” he said, “I need to see her.”
She nodded. “Give them some time and you’ll see her.”
After waiting another three hours, Nurse Tomas allowed Austin to go back and see Ryker. Still wearing the black Scorpions flight suit, Austin didn’t know how long he stood over her, alone in the room with nothing but the occasional beep of the heart monitor. His throat constricted as he searched her arms and shoulders for wounds. Most of the damage, it seemed, had been localized to her head.
Scars covered her skull, cutting through the remains of her once beautiful dark hair. The left side of her face was slack, the skin hanging lower than the opposite side as if no muscles remained. Her cheek slouched, exposing the red of her eye.
Her eyes flickered. Inhaling sharply, he pulled the chair closer to her side and sat.
“I don’t know if you can hear me, Ryker,” he whispered, “but I’m here. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere. I know you and I always said we don’t …”
Clearing his throat, he leaned back and wiped his eyes. Clasping her hands, he said, “We always said we don’t do … this. We said this relationship stuff was something we didn’t want to get involved with. Do you remember?” He slid his finger over the top of her hand. “Tell me you remember.”
Her eyes remained closed.
Lowering his head onto her hand, he sighed. “Well, let’s do this. This is all I want to do. Forever. I’ll be here. Whenever you’re ready, I’ll be here.”
She inhaled, and Austin raised his head.
Her bloodshot eyes, bruised and sunken, fluttered. Only her right eye fully opened, the other’s lid hanging low.
“Ryker?” He raised her hand to his cheek and pressed it. “Ryker?”
Opening and closing her mouth several times, she slid her tongue over her lips. Holding a shaking hand toward him, she outstretched a trembling index finger. “Aww … steen.”
It sounded like her mouth was filled with cotton. He barely understood what she’d said. Biting down on his lip, he nodded.
“That’s right, Ryker.” He kissed her hand three times and stared back into her bloodshot eyes. “I’m right here.”
Closing her eyes, one side of her lips turned in a half-grin. “Thank … thank.”
Even with her muffled speech, Austin was reminded of her first words spoken in his language when he brought her back to the Trident on Flin Six. Her sweet voice …
“You don’t have to thank me,” he said, nodding and reaching down to plant a tender kiss on her lips. When he parted, he gazed into her eyes. Yes, he thought, it’s still Ryker. “I’m not going anywhere.”
The massive bulk of the Tizona home ship loomed over the moon of Mackaron. Wearing his black dress uniform with no insignia, Austin clasped his hands behind his back, watching as two Tridents flew in formation around the Formidable.
“Major Wilkos says you have been invaluable to the Scorpions so far,” Nubern said, his eyes on the radiant field of stars. “Are you sure this is what you want to do?”
Austin swallowed, thinking of the rush of launching out of the carrier tube and being whisked away in the seat of a Trident. Like being strapped to a missile.
And then he thought of Ryker.
“She may never be able to fly again, sir,” he said, staring as the Tridents moved to his right and out of sight. “She might not be able to walk again. And I won’t leave her side.”
“I understand. Believe me, I do.” He took a deep breath. “Sometimes, ah, sometimes I wish I would have made … different choices.”
Austin turned to face him. “Major, you have given me the opportunity to do things I would have only dreamed of before. You have given my life a … purpose I thought never existed. I, uh, I want—”
“Stop,” he said, smiling. “You don’t have to say anything, son. You don’t. You’ve given me more than you could understand. That’s enough.”
Nodding, Austin looked at his feet. “Could you tell Major Wilkos for me? Tell him, well, thank him for me.”
“Of course.” He cocked his head to the side and typed on his tablet. “I think I have a position available for you if you’re interested.”
Nubern handed the tablet over to Austin. When he looked at the details opening on the screen, Austin’s mouth dropped open.
“Are you serious?” he asked.
“Absolutely.” The major smiled, the lines in his face deepening. “They’ll miss you out here, but I can’t think of anyone who deserves it more, son.”
Shaking his head, Austin embraced his mentor.
Marching through the Formidable’s corridors felt different. Nothing had changed, but nothing seemed the same.
It reminded him of the last time he’d left the locker room on his high school baseball team. Even while he was putting his bat in his bag that final time, he hadn’t realized it was truly over. This time, however, he told himself there might be another occasion when he walked the halls of a Legion carrier … someday.
At the hangar’s hatch, two familiar figures wearing the uniform of the Scorpion stood at attention.
“At ease,” Austin said, shaking his head as he looked at Bear and Skylar. “You guys are impossible.”
“That’s why you love us,” Skylar said, offering a tight smile.
Austin looked at Bear, then turned to her. “I really do, you know.”
“What’s that?” Bear said, grumbling.
“I love you guys.” Austin looked past them to the hangar. “Always have, always will.”
Bear threw his hands in the air. “I hate this crap! Listen, man, my family never has been big on goodbyes. Okay?”
Austin smiled. “Fair enough, buddy.”
Nodding, Bear gave Austin a swift hug, parted, and slapped his shoulder. “I’ll see you soon, right?”
“You bet.”
Taking one glance at Skylar, Bear marched down the corridor and out of sight. As people moved around them, Austin and Skylar’s eyes met.
She took a step toward him. “I understand why you’re leaving.”
Austin blinked. “You do?”
“Sure.” She looked at him, tilting her head. “I wouldn’t expect anything less of you. It’s who you are, who you’ve always been. You are deep down good, Austin.”
Cradling his face in her hands, Skylar reached up and kissed him on the cheek. With her eyes watering, she tapped him on the chin.
“Bye … for now, anyway.”
Austin swallowed. “See ya, Sky.”
Ta
king one step back, Skylar swiveled and walked down the hall. She took one look back, smiled, and disappeared around the corner.
Austin turned around and walked through the hangar. Passing under a Trident’s nose, he raised his hand, allowing his fingers to slide across the smooth fuselage. When he reached the other side, he tapped the fighter’s nose.
“Goodbye, sweetness,” he whispered.
Turning around, he walked toward the departing freighter.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
Austin Stone felt the warmth of the sun on his face. He crossed his legs, watching as the Legion therapist finished the exercise. Sweat dripped from Ryker Zyan’s pale face, flattening her growing hair against her skull in the Georgia heat. She struggled to stand without her walker, her body’s muscles failing to respond to commands the way they once did.
Resisting the urge to run forward, Austin waited and allowed the therapist to do his job. Austin was, after all, only here for support as he had been for the past year. Clenching his jaw, he watched the therapist guiding Ryker’s trembling legs forward on the soft outdoor track.
And, just like that, Ryker took two steps.
One side of her face raised in the half-grin Austin loved to see, and she glanced at him with wide eyes. The opposite side of her face slouched, the muscles no longer responding. The doctors said Ryker’s facial status was permanent.
Nodding, he propelled her forward with his mind, mentally guiding her through three more steps before she rested on the walker. Austin felt relieved to see a successful therapy session following yet another night full of Ryker suffering through terrible dreams and constant waking.
After two hours of therapy, Austin walked her back to the car in silence. She rarely spoke anymore. During one of her bad days, Ryker said she felt stupid at the way her voice sounded. She didn’t want to embarrass him in public.
“How could you say that?” he had asked. “I fell in love with your voice first.”
Shaking her head, she had mumbled, “Crazy, Pilot. Always.”
Austin drove the car supplied by the Legion down the side roads, avoiding the Interstate. Ryker always seemed to enjoy pointing at the different stores as she tried to continue to understand his language.
Today, she marveled at the Atlanta Skyline.
“I’ll take you there someday,” he said, “but there’s nothing on Earth as spectacular as the Glistening Orb. I just thought I’d warn you.”
She turned to him, draping her hand still in a fist over his thigh. “Not … true.” Raising her hand, she pressed it against his cheek. “There … you.”
Austin smiled and checked his phone. “We’re not too late.”
“Too late?” she asked, her eyes widening. “Where?”
“You’ll see.”
Ten minutes later, Austin pulled the car into the coffee shop parking lot near the fruit stand where he had worked so many hours. The shopping center across the street had been demolished since he had left, replaced by one of those “live, work, play” communities. But the coffee shop, somehow, hadn’t changed.
Turning to Ryker, he tapped her knee. “You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to, but the therapist said it would be good for you to get out.”
She pointed to her ear holding the tiny translator. “What … if can’t understand … me?”
He squeezed her hand. “I’ll take care of it, sweetie.”
Gently, he helped Ryker from the car. She shuffled across the parking lot using the walker. With Austin’s support, Ryker negotiated the curb and smiled. The door to the coffee shop opened, releasing the smell of coffee beans.
Two teenagers rushed by, talking about a movie and laughing as they spilled out into the parking lot.
Draping his arm around Ryker’s shoulder, Austin pointed to a table at the back near a black and white photo of Marilyn Monroe. Two familiar patrons sat and sipped on their drinks.
“We’re here to meet them,” he whispered.
Ryker’s jaw dropped when she saw the man at the table, and she hurried at her best speed toward the table. Josh Morris and Kadyn Joyce stood to greet her. Austin stepped back, watching them converse. Both had remembered to wear their translators, and they smiled as Ryker gently sat at the table. He heard Josh say something about a Trident as he introduced Kadyn.
Austin stepped up to the table, his throat tightening. He found it difficult to speak.
“Hey buddy,” Josh said, standing to face his best friend.
Looking at Josh in the coffee shop, Austin felt in some ways that nothing had changed. When he couldn’t speak, Austin merely embraced his friend.
“Missed you, man,” Josh said, his voice cracking. “Been wondering when you’d get around to seeing us.”
They parted, and Austin sat across from his only true friends from high school. Josh had gained most of his weight back. Kadyn smiled, some of the innocence gone from her face after her ordeal, but she was still the same friend who’d picked him up after school so many times. Josh held Kadyn’s hand on the table, both of them staring at Austin.
There was so much Austin wanted to say about events happening far from here, but nothing seemed appropriate.
“Josh, Kadyn,” he said, his voice shaking, “this is Ryker.”
“Fun,” Ryker said, collapsing on their couch in their apartment. “That … was … fun time.”
Austin draped a cold rag over her forehead. “It was a big day, I know. You need to rest now. I’ll get your medicine and place it on the coffee table here. Try to get some sleep. I’m going to put in a few hours of work before dinner.”
As he took a step to move away, she grabbed his hand and stared up at him, shaking her head slightly. “Thank you,” she said clearly in his language. “Thank … you for today.”
He squeezed her hand. “I love you.”
“I … you, too. I don’t … be burden.”
“Never.” Bending down, he kissed her forehead. “Have sweet dreams.”
When he backed away, Ryker’s eyes closed tight.
He lingered over her as he watched her drift to sleep. She had never spoken of her captivity and what the Zahl Empire did to her. Perhaps she didn’t want to experience it again by bringing it up. Perhaps, he thought, I don’t want to know how she suffered.
Walking over and securing the chain lock on their front door, he made his way to the kitchen to grab a bottle of water before heading back to his office. He lingered in the doorway, listening as Ryker moaned through a bad dream. Fortunately, this nightmare was brief.
Plopping down in the chair, he took a deep breath and booted his computer. Major Jonathan Nubern would expect his monthly prospect report by tomorrow, and he was running behind.
Time to get to work.
The Star Runners load screen with the Trident and Interceptor locked in mortal combat popped up.. He stared at the two fighters, wondering if somewhere out there, the Tridents and Interceptors were engaged at this very moment. Terrible images of battle flashed in his mind on a daily basis, but it was just a game now.
Well, it was a game he played for work, recruiting new Star Runners to aid in the Legion efforts. He didn’t know how long he would be able to do this job before he was reassigned, but he pushed those thoughts far from his mind and cracked his knuckles.
I’m here for Ryker right now, he thought, and the present is all that matters.
The computer loaded much faster than his did during high school. Resting his left hand on the flight stick, he typed “ROCK” as his username and logged into the game.
EPILOGUE
Captain Rufino Rampa took a deep breath and gazed into the holographic projector, awaiting the connection with the admiral. His stomach soured as he looked around his empty laboratory in the underground base on Nesteel. The last time he had been in this room, Lena Janas had been in Room Two and Ryker Zyan had been in Room Three—his most prized prospects.
The remaining crew currently compiled what information remained on his once
grand project to transform Legion Star Runners into much-needed Zahlian pilots, but he had little hope the Empire would allow such a complete travesty to continue.
Taking a deep breath, he stared at the tablet containing the report he would give the admiral detailing the status of his project. He snorted. The lack of a project.
Despite the resources committed to his dream experiment, the latest collection of subjects had been stolen and the Nesteel Station reduced to an orbiting ruin of junk. Depending on the resources allotted to rebuilding the station, it could take years for Nesteel to return to some semblance of normalcy.
A weight pressed on his chest, the feeling of defeat. What could he possibly say? How could he justify such a complete and utter failure to deliver the promised results? The members of the faction clamoring for Zahl expansion would banish him to an outlying world to run tests on soil samples or, he swallowed, they might dispose of him completely. Shaking his head, he realized it didn’t matter. All he had built … destroyed in a single operation.
The projector light flashed and blinked twice.
CONNECTING … CONNECTING … LINK ESTABLISHED.
Rampa held his breath. The image of the admiral appeared. Leaning back in his chair, he nodded and slipped the tablet into his hands.
“Greetings, Admiral.”
The admiral lowered his eyes. “Captain Rampa. You’ve had a busy week.”
Looking to the tablet, Rampa cleared his throat. “I would like to begin today by discussing our latest findings—”
“I didn’t ask for your report, Captain.”
Rampa froze, the hairs on his neck tingling. “No, sir.”
The admiral tilted his head to the side. “Unless you have something to report other than the destruction of an entire squadron, an orbital station, and the expense of three ARCs being called from other duties, as well as your project being forced back to the drawing board, all by a small team of operatives?”
Rampa swallowed, his stomach spinning. “I see you have been informed of the latest news about my project. I would like to add we believe the operatives hailed from the Legion—”