Stepping into the shower, Yen made quick work of scrubbing his body clean. It seemed that no sooner had the soap been washed from his skin and out of his hair, then the water was turned off and he was toweling dry. Looking in the mirror, he realized just how rough he looked. Even against his yellow skin, the faint outlines of a bruise could be seen spreading across his left cheek, a gift from an overzealous Oterian during the training practice today. During their rehearsed incursion on an enemy ship, the Oterian had been too eager to exit the Cair mock-up. His thrown elbow, as he shoved his way to the front of the line, caught Yen on the side of the face, snapping his head backward from the force of the blow. Yen already had an adequate punishment planned for the soldier, but seeing the bruise reignited his anger.
Glancing down at his watch, Yen jumped as he realized how much time had already passed. Running a brush through his long, black hair, Yen gave one final cursory glance in the mirror before hurrying back into the bedroom and slipping into his uniform. No marks or lint stained the crisp Infantry uniform. Yen readjusted the series of medals that hung heavily on the left side of his chest; medals he had won during the multiple missions conducted while he served with the covert operations division of the Infantry. Dominating the rack of medals, hanging above the others, Yen caught sight of the Alliance Service Cross, one of the highest awards offered in the military. He earned it during his final mission with the covert operations, one which pained him to relive.
Yen had been one of seven soldiers assigned to his covert operations team a year before. They had been a close team, spending nearly every moment together, both on and off work. Though they were relatively junior based on their time in the military, the team was also the best in the Alliance. Many of the stories about his missions were impressive and made for great conversations at the bar. Many of his missions, though, he couldn’t speak about now, nor did he think they would ever be declassified enough for him to share with even his closest friends.
His last mission had been a disaster. Betrayed by the Captain of their ship, a Pilgrim who harbored secret loyalties to the Terran Empire, Yen, Adam Decker, and over one hundred other soldiers were left for dead in a city full of mutated monsters; one final gift from the already overly generous Empire. For two days, the soldiers fought against the ravenous Seques, but in the war of attrition, the Seques were destined to win. In the end, Yen’s team leader sacrificed himself to kill the rogue Captain. Yen, Adam, and an Uligart named Buren were all that survived. They brought word of the betrayal to the High Council and told them the other information they had gleamed during their conflict: that the Terran Empire had sent a small fleet into Alliance space. For their bravery and heroism, all three were awarded the Alliance Service Cross.
Yen fingered the medal idly as he rode the lift up to the main airlock. He hoped he wasn’t too late, though he knew the size of the crowds that would already be gathered around the airlock. The arrival of newly assigned soldiers was always a reason for a celebration. Though the Fleet and Infantry both covered missions throughout known space, it seemed that the military was a small world. It was inevitable that you ran into long lost friends and counterparts with whom you served years before. Yen wasn’t looking for a long lost friend, even if some of his fellow comrades were going to be arriving today. His focus would be entirely on finding a single woman from the throng of new arrivals. He realized the daunting task ahead. Not only did he have to contend with fighting his way to the front of the crowd, he also had to contend with spotting Keryn amidst the sea of uniformed crewmen.
As the doors to the lift opened, Yen’s heart sank. The cheers of a massive crowd along with the swell of dozens of overlapping conversations washed over him, overwhelming his senses. Because of the droning Squadron Commander’s brief and his own daydreaming while getting ready, Yen was late. They’d already arrived.
Yen barely had any space to stand, as he pushed his way off the elevator. Craning his neck, he tried to see over the crowd. He was fighting against a raging torrent of bodies, many of which were already heading toward his now empty lift, on their way to a hundred different points of interest throughout the ship. Still undeterred, Yen pushed his way further upstream, working his way toward the large iris through which the new recruits arrived. Yen caught sight of a few promising sights: a flash of silver hair, blazing violet eyes, deeply tanned skin. But each time Yen thought he saw something that reminded him of Keryn, the person turned and he realized it wasn’t her. His emotions were cresting waves, first reaching a peak of anticipation only to be crushed in the wake.
As the crowd began to thin, Yen started to lose hope. Had he arrived too late? Had she been one of the first to pass through the airlock, only to be snatched up by her pilot sponsor and whisked away? Fewer and fewer new arrivals trickled through the airlock as they finished exiting the transport docked outside. Looking down the tunnel, Yen didn’t see her anywhere. Disheartened, Yen turned away and stepped toward the lift.
“Yen Xiao?” a familiar feminine voice called from behind him.
Smiling broadly, Yen turned to see Keryn Riddell emerge from the gathered crowd. Her fine silver hair was pulled back into a professional ponytail, exposing her naturally deeply tanned Wyndgaart skin and the red and purple tattoos – identifying characteristics of her race – that traced the curves of her cheeks and disappeared beneath the high necked collar of her uniform. Intensely violet eyes sparkled maddeningly in the halogen light. Though he met her only once before, her image was burned permanently into his memory. She was truly just as beautiful as he remembered.
Sighing with relief, Yen spoke. “I was so worried I’d already missed you.”
“I didn’t see you at first, but I had faith that you’d be here eventually.”
Yen served with Keryn’s older brother, Eza, during his time on the covert operations team. On the same mission for which he received the Alliance Service Cross, Eza was killed trying to afford the rest of them time to escape the planet. Had it not been for the sacrifice of Yen’s best friend, he would have died on the planet himself. That moment had not been lost in the passage of time and Yen felt obligated to look after Keryn, to ensure she stayed safe during her service as a Cair pilot. Yen, though, found his task of watching after Keryn more of a boon and less of a professional obligation.
“Are you going to show me around,” Keryn asked, “or are we going to sit here all day in awkward silence?”
Yen shook his head as he realized he’d been staring. “I’m sorry. Come on, I’ll show you the highlights.”
They walked past the lift, choosing instead to walk the length of the ship. Their tour lasted for hours, though most of their time was spent examining the Duun and Cair ships that lined the enormous hangar bay. The hangar would be Keryn’s second home, once she got settled into her normal routine. She asked a ridiculous amount of questions, as they finished their tour and made their way toward the housing area where Keryn would be living. Though Keryn was curious about much of the ship’s day-to-day operations, most of their conversation remained solely on small talk: about Keryn’s experiences in the Fleet Academy, her temporary position in the replacement center as she awaited permanent orders onboard an Alliance Cruiser, and how she felt after receiving her orders assigning her to the Revolution.
“I meant to ask you about that,” Keryn said as they discussed her current assignment. “I was assigned to the Farimas Space Station while I was waiting for orders. All my fellow classmates were there. We were getting settled in for the long haul, since we were all told it would be up to six months before permanent positions opened up in any of the Cruiser Squadrons. Yet, miraculously, I suddenly get orders assigning me to the Revolution. No one else seemed to have received any orders except me.”
“I guess you’re just lucky that way,” Yen said with a smile.
“You wouldn’t have had anything to do with that, would you?” Keryn asked coyly.
Yen smiled mischievously. “Using my rank and position in such a wa
y would’ve been unethical. Hypothetically, however, being one of the only war veterans onboard would allow me quite a bit of influence on a decision like that.”
Though Keryn’s smile still lingered, Yen could sense the pain behind her eyes at the mention of previous wars in which Keryn had lost a close loved one. Cursing himself silently at making such an obvious gaff, Yen casually tried to change the subject.
“It looks like this is your room.”
Keryn nodded softly, as she looked at the nondescript door sitting amidst a dozen others on a very nondescript hall. As Yen entered the access code, the door slid open, revealing the rather barren kitchen and dining room areas. Two bedrooms extended from the main common room. Keryn’s roommate, Yen already knew, had not yet arrived on board. For all intents and purposes, Keryn had her own room; another perk that Yen had coordinated specifically for her.
“It’s everything I could have hoped for,” Keryn joked, her sense of humor returning as she observed the empty room.
The air around Yen began to shimmer and dance, as though he were surrounding himself with a desert mirage. The cabinets in the kitchen opened and a pair of plates, glasses, and utensils floated out. Drifting across the room, they set down in their proper places on either side of the dining room table.
“Oh, yes,” Keryn laughed. “That makes it much better.” She turned toward Yen, arching an eyebrow. “You really have gotten better at controlling your abilities. What else can you do with that power of yours?”
“That’ll have to be a discussion for another time,” Yen chuckled, not letting Keryn know about the sharp pain he felt behind his eyes after using his powers. Ever since pushing his powers beyond their limit during his escape from the Seques, Yen suffered from headaches nearly every time he used his powers for anything more than mundane activities.
“So what do I have on my agenda for the near future?” Keryn asked.
“I wish I could give you a few weeks to really get comfortable with your new Squadron and find all the hidden nooks of the Revolution, but you’re coming in at a bad time.”
Keryn nodded, suddenly serious. “I had heard that we’re going to be going to war with the Terrans. I’m glad you got me this assignment, Yen. I want my chance at revenge.”
“Before you get your shot at the Terran Fleet, you have to go through the more mundane pre-combat training exercises,” Yen explained. “We have another rehearsal tomorrow, then a real time ship-on-ship combat scheduled for the day after. If the Squadron Commander blesses off on it, I’d like to put you in control of a Cair for that exercise.”
Keryn seemed surprised. “You have a Cair ship available for me already? I heard it usually takes weeks before a new pilot’s attached to a specific ship.”
“Normally, you’re right. But this ship happens to be special. Don’t worry, you’ll get to meet the Cair Ilmun tomorrow. Over the next few days, you’ll have plenty on your plate.”
Yen turned and started walking toward the door, not eager to overstay his welcome. Before he could leave, however, he had to try one last gambit. “Speaking of plates. I know you’re still getting settled, but once you’re comfortably established on the Revolution, I’d love the chance to take you out to dinner. My treat, of course,” he hastily added.
Keryn smiled warmly. “I think I’d like that.”
“Thank you for showing me around,” she said as she followed him to the door. As they reached the hallway, Keryn placed a gentle hand on his arm. “I know you put your neck on the line to get me this assignment, get me into a Cair ship right away, and really help get me settled. It hasn’t gone unnoticed. I won’t let you down during the next few days’ training exercises.”
“Believe me, Keryn. It was nothing.”
“Whether or not you think it was ‘nothing’, thanks again, for everything.”
“You’re welcome.”
“Goodnight, Yen,” Keryn said, giving his arm a gentle squeeze before stepping back inside her quarters.
“Goodnight, Keryn. Sleep well.”
The door slid shut between the two. Yen smiled broadly, feeling exuberant as he walked down the winding halls toward his own room.
CHAPTER TWO
Keryn’s head no sooner hit the pillow than she was awake again, going through the next day’s training scenarios on a ship simulator. Introductions to the rest of the Squadron had been rushed, leaving Keryn nervous about her first tactical outing with the other pilots. She had performed remarkably, though, and received accolades from Garrix on her piloting skills. Not all of the praise was hers alone, however. Yen sat in the copilot’s seat during the entire simulation, giving her pointers and advice. In the end, though, it was her own piloting abilities that helped her stand out.
“You did great today,” Yen praised as they walked back to their quarters. “I think you surprised a whole lot of the senior pilots.”
“Yourself included?” she asked.
Yen laughed. “Yes, me too.”
“It wasn’t really that hard,” Keryn explained. “The simulator here isn’t much different from the one at the Academy, and I was top of my class when I graduated.”
Yen’s smile disappeared, her words acting like a trigger for a more serious conversation. “Don’t start getting too arrogant. One of the reasons you did so well was because you were willing to take some uncalculated risks today. In a simulation, that’s fine because you can fly fearlessly, knowing that the worst that could happen to you is a flashing sign telling you that your game is over. The same risks that you took today may not work when your opponent is a flesh and blood Terran, one who might be just as crazy as you are.”
“I didn’t mean anything by it,” Keryn replied softly. Her tough demeanor transformed, revealing the younger girl that Keryn truly was. “I’m just trying to do my best.”
Yen stared at her, unsure if her new attitude was a ruse to make him feel sympathy or if she truly hid a more sensitive personality behind her strong, abrasive exterior. As they stared at each other – Yen wondering if she were acting and Keryn longing for understanding – Yen finally smiled and slipped an arm around her shoulder.
“I made a promise to your brother that I would do everything in my power to keep you safe. I may come across a little harsh at times, but everything I tell you will keep you alive in the long run.”
Keryn smiled, the confidence reasserting itself. “I’m not going to let you down.”
“We’ll see tomorrow,” Yen replied. “Get some sleep tonight, because tomorrow we’ll be pitting our pilots against another Alliance Squadron.”
Visibly relaxed as they walked, Keryn latched onto the new conversation, eager to help Yen forget about her moment of weakness. “Do you know who we drew to fly against?”
“We’re taking on the Defiant. Both their pilots and their Crewmen are tough, so even if we make it to their Cruiser, we’ll have a tough fight during the boarding.”
Keryn elbowed Yen hard in the ribs. “What do you mean if we make it? I’ll get you there. Whether or not you can manage to make it as far as the first hallway before getting your team slaughtered is a different story.”
Smiling broadly, Yen shoved Keryn playfully. “You talk a big game, little girl. We’ll see how well you do tomorrow.” He paused, realizing they had already reached Keryn’s room. “Get some good sleep tonight. I need you on your toes come tomorrow.”
“Goodnight, Yen,” she said coyly over her shoulder as she slipped into her room. Yen waited a couple moments after the door had closed behind her. Shaking his head in amazement at the strange Wyndgaart woman, Yen turned and walked to his own room. He had teased her incessantly, but he knew that she was right. Even if she could get them to the Defiant, the harder job was boarding a ship full of volatile enemies.
Keryn entered the massive hangar amidst a buzz of activity. Pilots and crews moved with mechanical precision around their craft, checking hull integrity and weapon systems. The noise of the room – tires squealing on the smooth floor,
the din of a hundred different conversations, the whir of machine guns running through practice fires – enveloped Keryn. She smiled softly, feeling at home amongst the droning sounds. This was the reason she became a pilot instead of going through the Ritual of Initiation as did so many of her race. Keryn found her peace and tranquility here, among the technology and ballet of space combat.
Across the room, Keryn caught sight of Yen as he performed the preflight check on the Cair Ilmun. The sleek gunmetal grey ship glistened in the stark lighting of the hangar bay. Its wings drooped heavily from the weight of the two missile launchers and pair of machine guns. Though the Cair ships were not intended to be direct combat fighters like the Duun ships, they carried an arsenal large enough to defend themselves if necessary. Keryn hurried over, knowing that much of the work Yen now did was actually her responsibility.
Yen looked up as she approached. “Good morning, sleepy head.”
Keryn rolled her eyes. “I’m not exactly late, you know.”
“If you’re early, you’re on time. If you’re on time, you’re late. And…”
“If you’re late, you’re wrong,” Keryn finished, having heard the same phrase repeated numerous times during her training at the Academy. “Why do I believe you could quote the textbook if asked?”
“Funny, but not far from the truth,” Yen joked. “Now get over here and help me out.”
Keryn joined Yen as he continued checking the hull integrity. In the void of space, even the most miniscule break in the armored plating would cause a deadly decompression. Keryn knew the importance of the check, but still paused as she ran an affectionate hand over the hull of the ship. Most of the Cair Ilmun’s hull was immaculate, having been tended with great care since being assigned to the Revolution. Still, along its side, Keryn could still see long scratches that had never been mended. Slipping to the side of the ship, she ran her fingers along the grooves.
“We thought about patching those up,” a gruff voice said from behind her, “but we think it’s important that every ship have a story to tell.”
Fall of Icarus Page 2