by L. E. Thomas
He turned back to the nebula one last time, a lump forming in his throat.
Lieutenant Austin Stone leaned back in the cushioned chair, focusing his attention on the screen installed in the back of the seat in front of him. A news feed of some kind—the first Austin had seen from a Legion core world—played across the display. After docking with a massive starport orbiting the planet, Oma, Austin had run for his connecting shuttle scheduled to depart for the planet’s surface to a city called Seaside. He had hurried onto the connecting shuttle. The view of Oma had transitioned quickly as the shuttle took a steep approach to the planet. The black of space switched to blue then bright fire as the shields battled against the atmosphere. After about an hour of watching the newsfeed, Austin had wondered if he would ever get to Seaside.
He turned back to the news program. A young woman delivered the stories. Her hair bounced as she spoke with excitement. She wore a golden band across her porcelain forehead. A bright purple eye shadow surrounded her sparkling aqua-colored eyes.
“Legion officials have dispatched agents to investigate the claim the Zahl Empire was behind the recent terrorist attacks on the dark world known as Earth,” the newscaster said in a surprisingly low voice despite her energetic appearance. “Although the Zahl Empire has vehemently denied being behind the incidents, Legion officials have repeatedly assured the general public they would fully investigate the matter.”
Austin steepled his fingers together and stared at the back of the seat. The Battle of Atlantis—or so Admiral Gist named it when he received his award—had been nothing more than a blip on the news program. The newscaster didn’t even give it a name. Captain Ty Braddock had said as much after the incident when Austin still felt like he would never be able to fly a Trident fighter again. Braddock had said the Atlantis incident would barely register to the rest of the Legion; a minor skirmish on a backwater planet better left forgotten. The planet he had nearly died to protect.
Austin smiled. He didn’t care about the news, about the fame or recognition. The backwater planet was home, and Mom and Kadyn had survived.
He winced.
The hunt by the mercenaries known as Phantoms had pushed his old friend to the limit, breaking Kadyn down during the fierce firefight in the woods. Austin had recurring nightmares of the incident, vibrant dreams full of fire and terror. Closing his eyes, he said a silent prayer for Kadyn, wishing she had never been forced to go through such an incident.
“In other news around the stars regarding Legion-Zahl relations,” the newscaster continued, her voice rising in pitch, “Zahlian representatives have stated they have caught and killed Legion extremists on Claria. Two individuals, a man and a woman, were caught trying to destroy local infrastructure in Zone Ninety in the name of the Legion. A Zahlian spokesman said it was unknown whether the two individuals were working for the Legion government at the time of the incident. Local news sources say the pair were delusional, erratic and psychotic, having recently eluded local authorities following a routine traffic stop. The Zahl government has repeatedly warned Legion officials to keep any known—”
Austin switched off the news program, his patience dying after the length of this flight.
He glanced around the relatively empty cabin. Once his passenger freighter from Tarton’s Junction had entered Oma space, the pilot had sounded noticeably relaxed—much different from the many pilots who had flown him in and out of Tarton’s Junction. Austin had seen no escort fighters flying in with the freighter. In fact, he witnessed no military presence at all.
“We are on our final approach,” the pilot announced as if he could feel Austin’s impatience. “Please fasten all safety restraints and prepare for the landing procedure.”
Austin found he had trouble sitting still. He rocked in his seat. After a detour including fighting off deadly mercenaries and dogfighting alongside the U.S. Navy, his leave was about to begin. Ryker Zyan had finished rehabilitation and would be waiting for him at the Seaside landing pad. He breathed, closing his eyes. In her text message, she had said they would go to dinner and then hit the town of Seaside, ending the night at the Glistening Orb … whatever that meant. He didn’t care. He only wanted to see her again. He imagined her standing there in her Tizona uniform, almond skin, waiting for him to debark.
Wait.
She wouldn’t be wearing a uniform on the landing pad. They were going out.
He looked down at the Tizona blues he had worn during the graduation. You idiot, he thought. You should have changed.
The shuttle broke through the clouds, a massive expanse of ocean stretching out into infinity. Directly below them, at least a dozen circular craft floated on the surface—they had to be the size of a baseball field. Austin pressed against the window, studying the strange craft that looked like white lily pads rocking on the water’s surface. He squinted. As the shuttle lowered, he saw people dotting the top of the vessels. Many wore very little clothing at all.
He smiled. Floating beaches.
Other air traffic filled his view as the shuttle descended to Seaside. Silver walkways stretched between tall buildings shaped like lighthouses. The buildings extended into the visible distance. Sporadic shuttle traffic moved in different directions in the fading light. The planet’s star was setting leaving a golden light flickering off the ocean, spilling orange and yellow light between the buildings. Instead of highways, water canals stretched through the city like a space-aged Venice.
Far in the distance, a massive dark building emerged. The structure reached out above all the other buildings, disappearing into the clouds. Impossible, the building had to stretch into the upper atmosphere. Austin had never seen anything like it.
The shuttle slowed, spinning around ninety-degrees. It descended for another two minutes before coming to rest gently on the landing pad several hundred feet above sea level.
“Welcome to Seaside,” the pilot said. “You may now debark the shuttle. We hope you enjoyed the flight.”
Austin took a deep breath and stood. He grabbed his satchel from beneath his seat and slung it over his shoulder. The other six passengers gathered their belongings and stepped to the hatch. With the sound of hissing gas, the hatch popped and moved to the side.
Humid air rushed into the cabin. All at once, Austin smelled the salty aroma of the planet. The humidity surprised him, reminding him of the summers in Georgia. Gusts of wind blasted against him as he stepped out into the orange light and onto the landing pad. He glanced down at his polished shoes reflecting the golden light from the setting star.
Only the third planet—including Earth—he had ever visited. The gravity felt normal, just like home. He tilted his head back, feeling the warm air touch his face. Much better than his first visit to a foreign planet. Flin Six was a place he would much rather forget.
“Austin!”
He tensed.
Turning to the direction of the sound, Austin saw her. Lieutenant Ryker “Scorpion” Zyan stood at the edge of the landing pad, small black sunglasses covering her eyes. She wore tight black pants and a white, loose-fitting shirt. Her black hair fell around her shoulders like ink, rebellious strands blowing in the wind. She had her arms crossed over her chest before raising her right hand slightly in a half-wave.
He smiled at her and returned the wave.
After taking a few steps in a stroll toward him, she sprinted across the landing pad and leaped into his arms. He dropped his satchel and held her, squeezing hard as if the gusts of wind would take her away again. He spun her around, smelled the sweetness of her neck.
“I’m so glad you’re here,” she said, burying her face into his shoulder. “I can’t believe it.”
“I know.” He fought back the lump in his throat. “I missed you.”
They parted, and she looked at him. “Took you long enough to get here, Lieutenant.”
“Yeah,” he said, taking in the beauty of her face and placing one hand on her back to hold her close. He had so much he wanted t
o tell her, so much he needed to explain in the event there was never another chance. Instead, he stared into her brown eyes for a long moment. “I was sidetracked a bit.”
She shook her head slightly, staring at him. She squeezed his arms, her thumbs sliding across his uniform. “I am so glad you are here.”
*****
The music pulsed through the air, thumping from the open doors of the restaurant. Sound waves pounded into his chest. The bass thudded into his ears. A woman’s voice sang something about water, followed by a chorus of voices singing like an entire church choir. An orchestra launched into a string-filled melody, reminding Austin of his visit to the Fox Theatre in Atlanta with Mom and Dad. Ryker, her hair falling behind her, moved ahead of Austin and yelled something in the hostess’ ear. A orange light like a smoldering fire washed everything in its hue.
They had spoken little on the way to the restaurant. Ryker kept grinning at him on the elevator ride down to sea level, her perfect white teeth glowing between her deep red lips. A silver platform had glided effortlessly through the water, carrying them from the landing pad’s elevator platform through the watery lanes of Seaside. Hundreds of tiny candles stretched over their heads in all directions, giving the impression Seaside was located in the center of a sparkling star field. The firelight winked across the water’s surface, sprinkling the air with oranges and yellows rippling off the glass buildings.
On Ryker’s instructions, the driverless platform led them through the vibrant water as the starlight dipped into the ocean on the horizon. The platform had stopped at an odd building stretching out from the water like a lighthouse made of volcanic glass. They stepped off the platform and into the building black as night. Inside, the tinted walls revealed a glimpse of the ocean stretching far beyond Seaside. A pair of raging fire orbs floated above the patrons dining in circular crystal booths floating on the water’s surface. The restaurant staff shot between the booths, riding on top of rectangular silver platforms.
After checking a gleaming blue tablet, the hostess nodded and snapped her fingers. She returned a moment later, carrying a black bread looking like crumbling coal. Austin frowned as the waitress placed the basket between them. His gaze moved from the bread to Ryker, who looked exotic under the burning orbs floating above. Her chestnut skin seemed to glimmer under the glowing light. Falling around her shoulders like a cascade of black paint, her hair had grown longer since their time aboard Tarton’s Junction. Her dark eyes surveyed the room before locking with his own.
“You’re staring, Lieutenant.”
Austin felt the warmth on his face but continued looking at her. “I can’t help it.”
She took a small bite of the ash-like bread. “I think you know how much I missed you,” she said, staring down at the table. “You know, I don’t do this.”
“Do what?”
“This.” She gestured at the table. “I haven’t done this since I joined, well, I haven’t ever done this.”
“What? Eaten dinner?”
She stared at him, a smirk on her face. “Yeah.”
Austin reached out and grabbed her hand, her bronzed skin feeling soft underneath his fingers. He thought of his past. Since his father died, dating had been the farthest thing from his mind. Once in middle school, Dad had allowed Austin to go on a “date” to see a movie. Dad offered to pick up his girlfriend at the time, Suzanne, and he drove them to the movie theater. Dad drove in silence, even sitting in the front of the car like a chauffeur.
Dad got sick soon after, and Austin lost interest in dating for the remainder of high school. Chasing girls and dealing with the drama existing within the pursuit didn’t appeal to him. Mom said he was depressed, and it would only get worse, but he had decided to put his extracurricular energies into playing Star Runners.
He grinned as he clasped Ryker’s hand.
“What?” she asked, taking her free hand and placing it over his own. “You think that’s funny?”
“No,” he said, his grin fading as he looked at her. “I don’t do this, either. Never have, in fact.”
“Why?”
He shrugged. “There’s never been time.”
She leaned across the table. “Let’s make the time.”
“So there’s something I’ve always wanted to ask you.”
Ryker leaned on the table, her eyes studying Austin’s face. “Ask me.”
“Why Scorpion?”
She blinked. “What?”
“Why do they call you Scorpion?”
“Why do they call you Rock?”
Austin raised his eyebrows. “That was just a name to log in to the game back home. My last name’s Stone. There you go.”
“Ah.” Ryker pulled at the edge of her napkin. She looked away from the table, her eyes fixated on the water lapping at the base of their transparent booth. “Nubern called me that when I was first recruited.”
Austin smiled. “Really? Why?”
She leaned forward, staring at the table. “He said I was sneaky, that I’d sting you once you got close enough.”
Austin thought back to the game. “I think I remember feeling that way when we’d go up against each other.”
“Yeah, well, you took me down, didn’t you?”
He snorted. “Still say it was luck.”
She eyed him. “Maybe it was. Maybe all of this was about luck.”
*****
The collage of colors spilled onto his plate, dripping down in a sea of blue and purple syrup. In the end, the dinner tasted kind of like baked fish covered in maple syrup—a combination he had never tasted. The black bread had a sweet taste to it and was washed down with a bright red wine.
They talked about their pasts. Ryker detailed her youth on the war-ravaged Lian, where she had survived through sheer determination. Lian was dark like Earth. A culture forged in years of war, Lian children were taught to fight from birth. As was the custom on Lian, her parents were not a part of her childhood. She was raised by the community, by warriors. They were her only true family before the Legion.
Dreaming of being pilot came natural to her and, as a young girl, she started training to fly. She felt fortunate she survived the years of battle. When she had the chance to leave to fight for the Legion after being recruited, she felt she had no choice.
As she spoke about her childhood, Austin couldn’t help but focus on the fact she never mentioned having a boyfriend.
She spoke in a tone he had never heard on Tarton’s Junction. The words flowed like a grand story, a fantastic departure from her duty-filled speeches on the station. He remembered her chastising him following the simulated competition with the second-year Lobera students and realized how far they had come in their relationship.
In return for her stories, he shared his past. He detailed his Dad’s cancer and the final months when he and Mom took turns visiting Dad in the hospital … and then hospice. He failed to keep eye contact with Ryker when he recalled the stories, the memories still too fresh. He felt a little guilty of his sadness knowing she never experienced the love of her parents. He at least had that.
Ryker had lost many of the community members that raised her. Austin found a comfort in knowing she understood his pain, as most of his friends in high school never knew what it was to lose a parent or a friend. Even Josh, who had two loving parents who doted over him all the time, had never dealt with the death of a loved one. Austin never wished such a thing on anyone—especially his best friend. Still, he felt alone and separated from his peers in high school who had never experienced a loss like the death of a father. It was one of the reasons he struggled to connect with his classmates, one of the reasons he found comfort in the solitary online world of his gaming.
But with Ryker he felt a connection, a strong foundation he couldn’t explain.
Austin used his Legion identification to pay for dinner, successfully fighting off Ryker’s attempts to do so. She steered him out of the restaurant and onto a dock at the water’s edge. Candles twinkl
ed in front of the night sky. As they waited for the next boat, Ryker placed her hands on his hips and pulled him close.
Austin’s pulse quickened, his throat constricting as Ryker slid her tongue slowly across her top lip. She tilted her head back and gazed up at him. She smiled slightly, pulling him closer until their bodies touched.
He leaned in and gave her a soft kiss. She pulled him closer, wrapping her arms around his neck. He lost himself in the moment. He didn’t want it to end.
“Excuse me,” a voice called.
Their lips parted. They both smiled and turned to the gondola behind them.
“Did you want a ride?”
Ryker laughed, placing her hand over her mouth. Austin helped her step into the boat. It rocked as they settled. Austin placed his arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer.
“Where are the two lovers going tonight?” the man asked.
Ryker sighed playfully and eyed Austin. “The Glistening Orb.”
“Great choice,” the man said, pushing the gondola away from the restaurant with a long glowing electric blue stick.
Austin held Ryker as the craft floated through Seaside. She gripped his hand, rubbing his arm by draping her fingertips across his skin. Austin closed his eyes. He exhaled slowly, allowing tension to leave his body.
“Do you get scared?” she asked softly.
“Scared?”
“Out there,” she said, glancing at the stars. “When you’re flying.”
Austin thought of his recent nightmares. The Tridents around him always exploded into fiery debris in his dreams. When the dreams took him back to the forest shootout, the inferno surrounded him and burning trees dropped. He shook the images from his mind. “Sure. Sometimes.”
She sighed. “That’s hard to believe.”
He looked down at her. “Why?”
“You’ve always projected this confidence, from the first time we connected on the Earth servers to the time you … rescued me on Flin Six. It’s very attractive.”