Star Runners: Mission Wraith (#3)

by L. E. Thomas

  The lively conversations of reuniting comrades lessened as the flow of officers neared the archway at the end of the hall. The light grew brighter as they approached the opening. The exotic odor of incense wafted through the hall. He glanced at Ryker, who kept her wide eyes forward.

  As they passed through the stone archway, Austin blinked to force his eyes to adjust to the brighter room. A river of more officers flowed through four additional archways leading into a rectangular area stretching a thousand yards. The polished brass walls reflected a white light pulsating from the three-story platform at one end of the expanse. Men in blue tunics stood on stools at either side of the arch, barking orders.

  “Quickly now!” the closest man wearing a tunic said. “Squadrons thirty through thirty-five, form up in your formation grids!”

  Ryker tapped his shoulder. “Come with me.”

  She led Austin through the controlled chaos, weaving through a mass of humanity clad in Tizona blue. They stopped at the thirty-second grid near the back of the cathedral. His ears filled with ringing as he stood at attention in the grid designated for the thirty-second squadron. He looked around, awed at the size of this room that had to take up a large portion of the Tizona’s hilt.

  “What do they call this place?” he asked, leaning into Ryker’s ear.

  “The Hall of the Tizona,” she said back, nearly yelling to be heard over the noise. “What do you think?”

  He gazed at the ceiling painted in Tizona blue. An abstract version of the Tizona symbol embroidered on his shoulder patch had been painted on the cathedral’s ceiling. He gazed at the ceiling as more Tizona officers filed into the massive room. He smiled. This made the graduation ceremony on Tarton’s Junction feel like an elementary school play, he thought.

  “In just a bit, you’ll find out where your assignment will be for the next five years,” Ryker said. “It’s something every Star Runner—no matter what squadron—lives for.”

  He took a deep breath. “What are the chances the entire squadron could be assigned together? Does that happen often?”

  “Sometimes,” she said with a smirk. “Sometimes Star Runners are sent as replacements to various locations throughout the Legion. Other times they report to a position together. We don’t even have a commander since Nubern’s promotion, so who knows?”

  “True.”

  Austin glanced to his side, suddenly aware eyes bore down on him. Skylar Kincaid stood to the right in the row in front of him. She glared in their direction, saw Austin’s eyes on her, and quickly looked forward. David “Bear” Keller stood to her right, a goofy and familiar expression on his face. Austin remembered the look when they all saw Atlantis for the first time.

  But it was Skylar’s expression causing a sour feeling in his gut.

  “Isn’t it amazing?” Ryker asked.

  “It’s indescribable,” Austin said, turning his attention back to the cathedral.

  A gong sounded followed by the thumping of bass drums. The light over the crowd softened, dissipating until it was dark. The beam on stage at the end of the hall intensified.

  “ATTENTION!”

  A slender figure in a Tizona tunic stepped into view. Blonde hair flowed down her shoulders as she strolled to the center of the tall stage. A hush fell across the room until there was complete silence. Austin heard only the hum of the Tizona’s engines and life support. The woman raised her hands high over her head.

  “I am the Grand Commander of the Tizona, Marda Steele, and I welcome you all to our sacred Tizona, our home,” she said with calm authority. “You have all traveled from across this Legion for your next tour of service for the greater good of the entire galaxy. For that, you have my gratitude and the gratitude of all those who wore Tizona blue before you.”

  Steele stepped across the stage, her footfalls echoing through the cathedral. “As you know, the first Star Runners were responsible for charting this space. Using bravery and instinct, these pioneers mapped the great expanse and made sense of the void for generations.

  “While their kind has faded from recent memory, it is in their spirit and honor you fly amongst the stars. Never forget that, and never forget you represent the Tizona.”

  “TIZONA!” the room roared in unison, the officers raising their right fists into the air as they did so.

  “Proceed with the assignments,” Steele ordered.

  Men in blue tunics stepped off their stools and moved in front of each squadron grid. The lighting faded on the stage and moved to the grids in the center of the cathedral. The men stepped onto a glowing sapphire rectangle in the otherwise dark floor. As they did, the rectangles ascended four feet from the deck. The man in front of the thirty-second squadron raised in front of him a tablet with trim illuminated in blue.

  “Members of the elite thirty-second, hear my voice,” the man said in a booming voice like that of a man selling programs at a professional baseball game. “It is with great honor I inform you that your squadron will be assigned to the Parazonium Class Carrier, Formidable, over the next five years. The Formidable is currently docked here with the Tizona and is scheduled to depart tomorrow morning. You will report there immediately.”

  The man lowered the tablet, apparently waiting for the other men in the hall to finish their announcements. When the final voice silenced and the orders had been given to all thirty-five Tizona squadrons, Steele raised her hands again.

  “Dismissed!”

  Ryker stood at ease and hugged Austin. “I can’t believe our entire squadron is being assigned to the same ship. First time that’s happened to me! Come on!”

  *****

  Austin walked down the tube lit with a luminous light, contrasting with the dim aura onboard the Tizona. The tube was only wide enough for single file traffic either way. He stared at the back of Ryker’s head as they marched from the Tizona to the Formidable, her black hair swinging. Two officers behind him engaged in a quiet conversation Austin ignored until the traffic stopped and they stood in line like they waited for a ride at an amusement park.

  “Another tour on The Fringe you think?” one officer asked.

  “Who knows? Commander Horace hasn’t said squat.”

  “Figures.” The man snorted. “With everything going on, Commander Horace probably won’t say anything until we’re underway and half a million MUs from this place.”

  “You think it’ll happen this time?”

  “What? War?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Who knows? Fat cats on both sides are burning up the waves talking about the pirate funding and the espionage.”

  “That’s just great.” He sighed. “I’m just ready to get this boarding process over with.”

  Austin’s stomach grumbled. It felt like the first day at a new school. He had grown accustomed to life on Tarton’s Junction and hadn’t realized how comfortable he had become. The station was like a rock in Quadrant Eight.

  Now, he boarded a Parazonium Class Legion carrier bound for who knows where to do who knows what. He swallowed as the line to board the Formidable started moving once again. Fear filled his body. He dreaded going into combat again. Every night brought nightmares of battle. With each comment from others about his performance during the Battle of Atlantis, his dread intensified. He couldn’t escape the thought he should have died with the others, perishing to save Earth. People were born with only so much luck and good fortune. And he couldn’t shake the undeniable feeling his luck had run out.

  He would never share his feelings with anyone. No one wanted to hear a second lieutenant complain about his first duty. Despite his initial hesitation and his concern brought on by the conversation he had with the veteran Lieutenant Ryan Bean, Austin had signed his five-year commitment. The Legion owned him now. And he would serve to the best of his ability.

  He played with the Legion wings on his chest as the line slowed once again. A different feeling washed over him, a feeling of pride. From his initial recruitment from the servers of Star Runners
to enrolling in the Tizona School of Excellence to his eventual involvement in what had become known as the Battle of Atlantis, all of his hard work and accomplishments had led to this moment. He smiled and looked at the Legion wings sparkling as it reflected the interior lights of the boarding tube.

  He shrugged. There were worse ways to die than being a Star Runner.

  “Next,” a man at the entry hatch said. He wore a gray cap and simple, clean coverall with the rank of chief master sergeant on his chest. “Name rank?”

  “Ryker Zyan, First Lieutenant, Thirty-Second Tizona.”

  “I see,” the man stared at his tablet, his closely set dark eyes squinting. “Here you are. Main deck. Berthing compartments. Officers quarters. Room forty-two.” He pointed to his left. “Head down this corridor and follow the indications on the wall. You can’t miss it. I’m Chief Master Sergeant Jason Bates. I’ll be handling your transition to the Formidable. Please let me know if you have any questions. Orientation will take place at 0500 hours, ship time, if you need it. Welcome aboard, Lieutenant.”

  “Thank you.” Ryker stepped through the hatch. She didn’t turn to wait for Austin. Instead, she made her way down the tight corridor, weaving through the traffic as officers and the enlisted rushed in countless different directions.

  “Next,” Bates barked. “Name and rank?”

  “Austin Stone, Second Lieutenant, Thirty-Second Tizona.”

  “Stone … Ah, here you are.” Bates nodded. “Are you the Lieutenant Stone from the Battle of Atlantis?”

  Austin’s face warmed. He clenched his jaw, trying to conceal his sense of nervousness and swallowed. “Yes.”

  Bates grinned, an expression of approval crossing his face. “Definitely a pleasure to have you aboard, Lieutenant. First time on a Parazonium Class Carrier?”

  “Yes,” Austin said, the feeling of apprehension in the pit of stomach lessening. “First tour, actually.”

  “I see.” Bates turned around, gesturing to the corridor behind him. “This is the main passageway that runs parallel to the retrieval bay as you head toward the bow. You are currently at one of four entry hatches used to board the Formidable. It’s just above the main hangar bay. Follow this passageway until you pass berthing compartments for the enlisted men on the port side. Officers quarters will be just past the berthing compartments. You’ve been assigned Room Fifty-Eight. You can’t miss it.”

  “Thank you,” Austin said, feeling overwhelmed by the sheer size of the carrier.

  “Operations are pretty straightforward on the Formidable. Everything runs on schedule. I would recommend coming to the orientation today once we are underway. Should help answer any questions.” Bates nodded. “Right now, report to your quarters for departure. Welcome aboard, Lieutenant.”

  Austin nodded and stepped over the hatch as he boarded the Formidable. The ceiling was cramped and lower than the corridor on Tarton’s Junction. The sound of a dozen conversations mixed with the crackling buzz of intercom messages. Human traffic swarmed through the corridor, carrying boxes and equipment. Officers wearing Tizona blue and the black of the Tarnex Squadron peppered the gray uniforms of the Legion Navy filling the majority of space in the corridor. According to what Austin had read about the Parazonium Class Carriers as he waited to board, two thousand souls would be aboard the Formidable when she debarked the Tizona and started its tour. Five-hundred personnel onboard consisted of the space wing with the remainder part of the ship’s crew. It looked like a busy airport. A busy, cramped airport.

  He moved through the river of traffic, dodging people and boxes of equipment littering the deck. A nondescript wall pressed in from the left. The right opened up into a long thin viewport stretching the length of the corridor. The viewport revealed a massive bay open to the void of space Bates described as the retrieval bay. Trying not to be run over by the people hurrying through the passageway, Austin slowed and gazed down at the bay. It was empty now, but he could imagine Tridents filling the area after a patrol. He couldn’t wait.

  Above the retrieval bay loomed the steel bulk of the Tizona, blocking any view of the stars beyond. Shuttle traffic crisscrossed the space above the Formidable. Thousands of crew boarded dozens of other carriers at this very moment, and Austin felt he was just one piece of this massive machine.

  “Watch where you’re going, Lieutenant.” Ryker lingered at the right side of the corridor, staring at the empty bay and watching a shuttle pass to the far side.

  Austin smiled. “Lieutenant Zyan,” he whispered. “What’s a pretty thing like you doing in a place like this?”

  “Stop it,” she mouthed, barely audible. Austin thought he crossed a line with her but saw her smile. She turned back to the shuttle. “Impressive, isn’t it?”

  “Yes.”

  “Once we are underway, you’ll see this is where you will land just like on Tarton’s Junction. It’s not that different, but everything on a carrier is about space. That’s something that took some getting used to. It’ll be cramped at first, but they have plenty of operations and programs to help cope with it.”

  Austin blinked. “You worried about me, Lieutenant?”

  She cocked her head to the side. “A little. You’re from a beautiful planet with wide open spaces. I’m just worried you might have trouble coping with carrier life at first.”

  Austin thought of what little Ryker had shared about her home world of Lian. With most of the population required to serve in the military from an early age, Ryker had spent her formative years growing up in what sounded to Austin like a subterranean bunker. It had been the reason she lost herself in the simulators—the reason she wanted to fly—and ended up being recruited by the Legion because of it.

  “I lived on Tarton’s Junction for a year,” he said. “I should be able to deal with this.”

  “I hope you’re right. Carrier life is much tighter than life on a station.” She turned to face him, her dark eyes falling from his own to focus on his mouth. She rested her hand on his shoulder. “I’ll go to my quarters now. I’ll see you after?”

  “Definitely,” he said without hesitation.

  She smiled at him and turned away, disappearing down the corridor. Austin remained at the thin viewport, staring out at the shuttle traffic for a moment. Soon, the Formidable would be underway, and his life on a carrier would begin. He took a deep breath and lingered at the viewport.

  “ATTENTION!” a voice boomed on the ship’s intercom. The traffic in the corridor halted. “ATTENTION! All officers not on duty report to quarters. Ship’s crew to their stations. All bridge officers report to the bridge. All officers and crew should prepare for departure.”

  The message repeated and the traffic in the corridor increased in speed. Austin pulled away from the viewport and headed into the flowing river of traffic.

  *****

  The steel gray walls of his quarters reminded Austin of the jail tour his class took in the fourth grade. The room—his new home—was even smaller than his room on Tarton’s Junction. He didn’t think that was possible. And there was no viewport. One seat attached to the wall had a retractable desk on the arm with a built-in tablet. The device had no off-ship communications or connections—he had to go to the Communication Room below the main deck for any messages bound for somewhere off the Formidable. Instead, the tablet had the ship’s Intranet with important forums to facilitate shipboard communications. Commander Horace had posted a welcome message.

  A bed pulled out from the right wall and could be pushed back just as easily. A storage compartment comprised the left side of the room, filled with a standard uniform and regulation off-duty attire. His fingers lingered on the brand new blue Tizona flight suit. He knew this signified a Trident on the Formidable awaited him.

  He thought of launching through a Legion carrier’s launch tube instead of taking off from a hangar as he did so many times on Tarton’s Junction. He had heard other pilots talk about the rush of being shot into space as if you sat on the head of a missile.
His pulse quickened as he imagined it.

  He suddenly didn’t mind the cramped quarters.

  Since he had been ordered to his quarters until the carrier departed the Tizona, Austin sat in his one chair and spent the next minutes getting acquainted with the Formidable. She wasn’t the oldest in the fleet—far from it—nor was it the newest. According to the information on his tablet, the Legion fielded several carriers and escort ships older than the Formidable. Essentially a wide angled shape coming to a point at the bow with a handle at the stern, the Formidable was the shape of Parazonium dagger; an ancient weapon according to the tablet. A third generation Parazonium Class carrier, the Formidable had seen three tours. The file provided no details regarding these tours. However, Austin was able to find Commander Horace was about to lead them on his third tour—his second on the Formidable.

  “All hands,” the intercom buzzed, “this is Commander Mitchem Horace. Welcome aboard. In the next minutes, the Formidable will depart from the Tizona, and we will be underway. All outbound communications will be ceased, and all ship business not essential to our departure will be halted. Once departure is complete, onboard business will resume. We will curve approximately twenty minutes after departure. Thank you.”

  Dull rumbling like distant thunder replaced the constant hum of the ship. As the engine’s intensity increased and rattled the objects in his room, Austin sat in his chair and surfed through the onboard Intranet. Although he had no viewport, he knew the sound signified the carrier was departing the Tizona and heading for their destination.

  His new life was finally beginning.

  *****

  Once Commander Horace gave the “all clear,” Austin left his quarters in a hurry. The corridor was not as crowded as before the Formidable departed from the Tizona. Only a few officers and crewmen still walked through the tight halls. With his satchel containing the tablet over his shoulder, Austin weaved through the corridor toward the center of the ship. He ducked under a control panel protruding from the wall, avoiding a pair of crewmen carrying equipment outboard. When he passed the enlisted crewmen wearing gray Legion Navy attire, they hugged the wall and saluted. Most were older than Austin.