Star Runners: Mission Wraith (#3) (23 page)

This was the first time she had seen Bear since he had nearly been shot down. He appeared weak, his skin pale and cheeks gaunt. She nodded to him, happy to see him away from the infirmary.

“Captain,” Lieutenant Shelbi “PowPow” Weaver said with a modest smile.

“Tough day today,” Ryker said, trying to convey a sense of strength. “We have to remember … this will happen. These things happen when you’re on a tour. We have to expect the occasional missing Star Runner, but Lieutenant Stone would have wanted us—”

“Stop it,” Skylar said, her face buried in her hands.
 

Ryker blinked, unsure at first where the voice had originated. Slowly, Skylar stood in the center of the room, her chest rising and falling as she took deep breaths. Her eyes filled with the same hatred she had exhibited before in the retrieval bay.
 

“Excuse me, Lieutenant?” Ryker asked, her composure wavering.
 

“Don’t you dare say what he would have wanted,” Skylar said, seething. “Don’t act like you didn’t kill him long before today.”

“Lieutenant, I think you need—”

“He was distracted!” Skylar yelled. “You did this to him—you did it! We’ve all seen Austin take down odds worse than this and survive. He saved you, didn’t he? And everyone thought you were dead.” She shook her head, tears falling onto her cheeks. “No, you did this. He gave you everything—everything. And you threw him away.”

Ryker’s head shook, her hands trembled. She glanced around the room, saw the knowing faces of her Star Runners. They all knew? After all of her attempts at protecting her career, they all knew.
 

Skylar stepped toward her with her eyes still wild. “I loved him from the moment I saw him on that campus. I love him still. But he chose you. He chose you!”
 

Skylar lunged toward her, but Bear wrapped her sobbing body up in his muscular arms. Skylar cried, fighting back against Bear’s grip for a moment before slumping to the floor.
 

“I wish it had been you out there!” Skylar screamed, thrusting her face back into her hands. “It should have been you.”

Ryker bit her lip, backing against the locker room wall. The Star Runners glanced at their feet and then back at her.
 

“Maybe you’re right,” she breathed. “Maybe it should have been me.”

She lost the will and desire for a motivational speech. Backing out of the room, she held Bear’s gaze. He shook his head quickly, mouthing, “She’s upset.”

“I know,” Ryker mouthed back.

She backed into the corridor and marched toward her quarters. She pushed her way through the busy crowds of the carrier, not truly seeing anyone. Bursting through the hatch to her quarters, she breathed heavily and leaned against the cold steel. She only tried to do the right thing—what was best for Austin.
 

Or was it best for her?

Think about something else. Think about something else, Ryker.
 

She closed her eyes.
 

She had ended it with him here in these quarters. Austin had come to see her, hope in his eyes.
 

And she ended it.
 

Think about something else.
 

He came to her during her morning workout on Tarton’s Junction, way back at the beginning of his career. He had strolled into the exercise room, watching her lift weights. She had wanted him to speak to her, something about his eyes and his demeanor. It felt strange and new. She remembered thinking forming a friendship with a recruit would be harmless. He had spotted her while she finished her set. It seemed like a thousand lifetimes had passed since that moment.
 

Don’t do this. Don’t do it.
 

The memories, unwanted, burst into her mind. They were on Oma, on Seaside. The rush of the water, music and crowds swelling around them. The Glistening Orb, suspended in space, the memory of their conversation echoing in her mind.

“I’ve never felt like this before.”

“Me, neither.”

“I’m scared.”

“Me, too. I’ve got you.”

“I know you do.”

“I’ll give you everything. Always.”

“I know. You always have.”

The barriers she had so carefully constructed around her emotions started to fade away like sand on a beach. The memories rushed in like the ocean, washing away her defenses. The feelings flashed up as she buried her head in her hands. The sobs came silently before transitioning into weeping. She slid down the hatch and crumpled onto the floor into the fetal position.
 

“I’m—I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m sorry, Austin.”

Just hold it together.
 

Captain Ryker “Scorpion” Zyan’s inner voice bounced around her mind. Dressed in her immaculate blue uniform, she stood at the front of the entire Thirty-Second Tizona Squadron. The Star Runners formed into the shape of a square in the main hangar bay. The Seventh Tarnex and Twelfth Lobera flanked the Tizona Squadron, standing in a crisp formation. Captain Doug “King” Lord stood at attention in front of his Tarnex Star Runners while Captain Lo “Hound” Talad led Lobera. Four caskets, two draped in Tizona banners and two in Lobera, lined the front of the hangar ready to be placed in the airlock.
 

It was the first time she had worn her dress uniform since her promotion to Captain, but she would have preferred to keep the uniform sealed in her quarters.

In the twenty hours since Austin’s death, the
Formidable
had pulled back from The Fringe and away from any impending marauder attacks. Major Ty “Tiger” Braddock had informed the entire space wing they would be pulling back from the border, regrouping for a day given their recent losses. Ryker knew it was simply to give the crew a moment to honor their dead. With the
Formidable’s
operations being anything but normal, systems being hacked during the incident at the science station and the constant threat of the
Wraith
, there had been no time to hold a funeral.
 

Her eyes lingered on Austin’s helmet. Commander Horace probably wanted to give the crew a day to cope with the losses.
 

She blinked, pulling her attention away from Austin’s casket. She didn’t know the fallen Lobera Star Runners—Karson “Fish” Tark and Akiko “Crusher” Kato—very well at all, not compared to Austin and Gan Patro. Gan had always been so positive during his flight training. To think he was now gone was … difficult to bear.
 

Think about something else, she thought. You must show strength for your crew.
 

The look on their faces in the locker room burned into her mind. She had tried so hard to mask her feelings toward Austin, but everyone had seen right through her. While Braddock probably would have frowned on their relationship, he wouldn’t have stepped in unless he had to. Austin was too good for that—he would never have let their relationship interfere with his duties.
 

But she never gave him a chance. She didn’t trust in him, and he died believing she didn’t care.
 

“While it’s never easy,” Braddock said, “we must fight on and honor their memory. They died for the Legion. We must remember that.”

Ryker tuned out Braddock for most of his speech, deciding it better to concentrate on maintaining her composure. Now, she couldn’t look away.
 

“These pilots were all on the path of a great career as a Star Runner,” Braddock said. “We all know the dangers of wearing this uniform. Sometimes, that means saying goodbye to ones we fight with, to the ones we love. In honor of one of these Star Runners, I would like to offer a simple reminder for when we depart this system and go back to the Zahlian border: stay frosty.”

Ryker’s eyes widened. She stared at Braddock, who nodded.
 

“Attention!” Braddock barked.
 

The forty-four Star Runners snapped to attention. Behind Braddock, four enlisted starmen dressed in gray stepped forward and pushed the caskets into the airlock, their footsteps echoing on the hangar deck. Ryker followed Austin’s casket with her eyes, maintaining her face forward.
 

The airlock lights flashed yellow as the door slid shut, blocking her view of the caskets. Through the compact viewport, a crimson glow replaced the flickering yellow lights inside the airlock.

Her stomach rolled, and she thought of Skylar’s words the day before. Skylar didn’t know Ryker would trade with Austin—trade places in a second.

But she couldn’t.
 

The outer airlock door opened. And the fallen Star Runners were sent out into the cosmos.

*****

Silence filled the launch tubes. The low-lighting and sight of the Tridents lined up ready to launch into space always filled Ryker with a sense of peace.
 

Her eyes were dry for the first time, her tears exhausted. A looming sense of dread hovered over her now. Through all of her first flight briefings and the logistics of operating the Thirty-Second Tizona, Austin had quite literally been the rock she balanced herself on for this tour. Whenever they expected a difficult flight, she put him in the Trident cockpit. He always came through the toughest situations unscathed and smiled that wonderful smile. With a rookie squadron still finding its way, Austin was the rare exception who had talent and actual combat experience.
 

Now, he was gone.
 

Shifting her weight and clasping her hands behind her back, she stared at the nearest Trident. The fighter was beautiful, tucked into her launch tube and ready to fly. She would get her chance, soon. These momentary pauses in the carrier’s operations never lasted long.
 

Her mind drifted to Austin again. She would have to write his mother once the Commander had lifted the ban on all communications. Nubern would want to know, too.
 

Oh, Nubern wouldn’t take this well at all. While the man tried to show off a tough nature, he truly cared for Austin and wanted the best for him. She had seen that first hand long before Austin had saved them on Flin Six.
 

“Praying?”

She spun around. “Major Braddock.”

Braddock stood at the end of the catwalk over the launch tubes, his arms crossed over his chest. “I didn’t know you did this, too.”

She smiled. “I read about Captain Tal Glenn during my time in flight school.”

“Sure,” Braddock nodded. “I know the story. During the Galactic War. When all his Star Runners were sacked out, Captain Glenn would spend time with the Tridents. He believed they were just as much of his responsibility as his Star Runners and required the same amount of attention. The practice led him to great victories in the defense of the Legion against the Zahlian Empire.”

Ryker sighed. “I know, but I also just like being here. Sometimes it’s easier than dealing with … everything.”

Braddock walked to her side and leaned on the railing. He stared at the Trident below them for a long moment. “I heard things got pretty rowdy in the locker room yesterday.”

Her face warmed. “I’m sorry you heard about that, sir.”

“Ship’s like a gossip channel,” he said with a shrug. “Even worse when the ship’s on a communications ban. It’s kind of like a tea kettle that’s been on the stove too long. Pressure’s gotta release somehow. Unfortunately, it means the ship’s gossip mill runs overtime.”

Ryker nodded, taking in what the Major had just said. So he knew. “This has been difficult, sir.”

“Losing Star Runners is never easy—I hope it never becomes so. If it does, it’s time to quit.”

He paused for several seconds. She leaned on the railing next to him, staring down at the Trident’s wings and imagining them lowering into their attack position.
 

“We’re heading back to the border in six hours,” Braddock said in almost a whisper. “Intelligence believes our shipboard communications are still being monitored since the hack, so we will be maintaining radio silence until we are relieved.”