Chapter 21

MARK

He and Isabella slept together again the last night. Neither wanted to be alone. “We’re gonna need to figure out what we’re doing,” he said.

“Don’t worry Mark, I think we’re on the same page here.”

“You just like my company,” he said.

“Exactly, now let’s get down to the hangar shall we?” She said putting on her pants.

As neither of them were hungry, they skipped breakfast and went down to the hangar bay.  On the elevator ride down, they watched off in the distance as a Firelance-class ion frigate was under construction. Off to the aft section of the deck sat his interceptor. Helena Paktu, the deck chief, waved them over.

“So what’s the status of my ship doc, will she live?” He asked.

“Unfortunately, there’s hairline fractures all along the chassis. It’s a miracle it held together, actually. You’re lucky to be alive young man,” she said. “But as for your mark five, it’s due to be scrapped for resources. You’ll get a new fighter by the afternoon, in queue right before the ten bombers I have on order.”

“Speaking of, what’s the stats on that? I’m curious,” Isabella said.

“Take a look.” She handed her the tablet. “It’s basically a plasma gun with engines and a cockpit.”

“I like the orange along the midsection.”

“So about that fighter,” he said. “Any chance I can get it in traditional Sobani colours?”

“A red interceptor for red leader? I don’t see why not,” she said. “I find the standard grey a little bland myself.”

“Wait, we can get them painted?”

“We can make exceptions for squad leaders, but regularly we wouldn’t. For instance, we wouldn’t paint an entire frigate on personal whim. But a fighter, why not? Green leader asked me for the same thing yesterday.”

“I see,” she said. “Guess I need to become a squad leader then!”

“In due time,” Mark said. “First we need to see if you’re up for this training regiment.

“Right, we have that to do today.”

“I think all we’re doing is getting them into the ships and doing laps around the hangar bay. I can’t see us squeezing in anything more than that today considering they’ll all have to go one at a time.”

“So the basics then?”

“Apparently they have flight experience.”

“Military?”

“Commercial.”

“Out of five hundred thousand people they couldn’t scrounge any military pilots? Oh boy aren’t we out of our depth.”

“Yes, yes we are. But not to worry, It’s only their lives we’re responsible for.” He said patting her on the shoulder. “Might as well head over,” he said.

“They’re waiting on us? Why did we take this detour then,” she said.

“I figured I’d give these new pilots a chance to get to know one another without our presence. We’re asking a lot of them. Can you imagine, waking up and finding out all that’s gone on over the last short while?”

“I can understand that, I’m barely keeping it together myself as you know. You seem to be holding up alright though,” she said.

“We’ve all suffered our fair share of losses over the last while. I’m trying to compartmentalize it for later when I have time to worry. Right now, all I want to do is ensure we make our way across the galaxy with as few losses as possible. Which means we have a responsibility to these pilots to give them what they need to succeed.” They walked the platform between the two hangars until they reached the group of ten men and women standing by a scout fighter.

“Good morning,” he said. “I know you all probably have some questions. I ask that you hold off on them until we can get through the basics.”

“And what does the basics entail?” One of them asked.

“One by one my partner and I will familiarize you with the ship controls. If you feel confident enough, you’ll get to take it for a spin around the hangar. All of you need to be ready by the end of day tomorrow to join us on the front lines. I know it’s a lot to ask of you, but we’re in desperate times.”

“So we heard.” He took a look around at their faces. All somber and dwelling on what they had only recently been made aware of.

“We’re alone out here,” he said. “We have only each other for support, no one’s coming to save us. I’ve been told you all have flight experience to some degree or another. Trust me, a fighter isn’t much different from a standard airship. You’ll find many of the controls the same. So who’s up first?”

One by one he and Isabella took turns sitting them down in the cockpit to go over the controls and screens, until they were confident they could repeat back what everything was for. He did not want to let anyone pilot the ship until he went though everyone. Some had more experience than others. Only one person had experience on a fighter-style ship, however. Most were cargo pilots, in his opinion more suited to piloting a corvette than a fighter, but they would have to do.

“Reece Kaalel, you’re up first.” He was likely who he would choose as a squad leader, having flown reconnaissance fighters across the dune seas for a Manaani caravan before electing to join the Mothership voyage.

“Roger that sir,” he said stepping up the ladder into the scout. The ship lifted to a hover, and he brought it out into the capital hangar. He flew a couple laps around, then came back to land. “Flies easy enough, I’m not quite used to the cockpit being so off-centre, but I can habituate to it over time.”

“Next up?” And so the day went on. By the time they finished, everyone had a chance to fly the fighter around the hangar. It was a productive first step but he was unsure of their readiness. He would simply need to have faith.

After he had dismissed them for the day, he and Isabella went to meet up with Jasiid, who was on the lower decks doing some peacekeeping. On the newscast, he saw that there were riots erupting all across the Mothership. They woke a hundred officers from cryosleep to deal with the increased violence and panic.

The first instance they ran into was a group of a dozen or so arguing that they should drop out of hyperspace and become a spacefaring civilization far away from any Taiidan threat, and that us going directly do them was a danger we could not afford to risk.

“We’re the last of our entire race!” One shouted. “We should hide!”

“No, we can fight back!” Another shouted from the other side. “Our goal is to reach Hiigara, we can’t stop here!”

“Hiigara is a false promise that we can’t hope to reach!”

The bickering continued, and they kept on walking. The further down the levels they went, the more violent it became until they spotted Jasiid Naabal struggling with a woman who was clearly enraged over something or other. Once he spotted them, he left the woman to her business.

“What’s that all about?” Isabella asked.

“They think we’re doomed,” he said. “I’m trying to argue we should press on, but they won’t have it.”

“Are there any officers on this level?”

“We don’t have enough to deal with the problem. Even the ones we woke up already have their hands full.” A few moments passed as they took in the crowd, then they heard a gunshot and a scream, an officer had been shot. The riot grew out of control after that. There were a group of officers heading their way, but hundreds of protesters in between. They were overwhelmed.

The newscast reported several explosions near key resource stores and they blamed a group of Gaalsien terrorists who had stowed away on the ship. The leader of the group was apprehended, but had words. “This journey is madness! My people warned of the dangers of hyperspace, no one listened! We are all slaves to the whims of Sajuuk.” His thoughts turned to Eric. He wondered how he would react to such a statement and to these riots. But his attention was immediately drawn to the man with the gun in his hand.

“Y-you! You’re the one. You bring these people hope. Why? This journey is hopeless! The Taiidan destroyed all of Kharak! How do you expect us to defeat them?”

Mark saw his hand trembling and made a gamble and stood tall in front of the shooter. “Because we carry with us the strength of all of Kharak. They destroyed our home and we will get our revenge. The strength of our fleet is not in our numbers but in our will to fight. We have the enemy on the run, and the element of surprise. We want to destroy them, and we will. They aren’t expecting any survivors, don’t you get it?” But the man would not listen.

“You’re wrong!” He stepped forward, but the man stepped back. “It’s all just hopeful lies!” He heard the shot fire, but it did not register until he felt a sharp pain in his chest. The man vanished into the crowd, and the room around him began to spin. He looked down at his white shirt and saw red seeping through. He fell to his knees gasping for breath. The last thing he remembered was Isabella screaming for help and the officers opening non-lethal fire into the crowd.

He woke in the hospital. He tried to move, but the sharp pain in his chest kept him in place. He looked to his side and saw Isabella sleeping in the chair next to his bed. He wondered how long she had been there, hopefully not the entire night. He was playing with the medical sensors taped to his chest when the doctor walked in.

“Aren’t you supposed to be dying?” He asked. Mark felt horrified that someone would ask that, and didn’t appreciate the joke.

“No! Why would I be dying?” He shouted waking the sleeper to his right.

“It’s a joke. Take your time,” he said. “You should be able to move by the time we’re out of hyperspace, but I recommend you stay off duty for a week to heal. There is only so much medical science can do.”

“Like hell,” he said tearing the sensors off and raising to a sitting position.

“You shouldn’t be moving yet, you’ll tear the stitches.”

A nurse began walking over with a long needle. “Hey, what do you think you’re about to do, lady? That’s not going anywhere near me,” he said.

“It’s a sedative,” she said confused.

“I don’t care what it is, leave it out of me.”

“You need to rest, Soban. If you die, how am I going to explain that to all the pilots waiting on your recovery?”

It was Isabella who spoke next, or rather, she smacked him across the face then spoke. “Lay your behind back in that bed! You’ve just been shot, Mark. Please, just rest. I’ll take care of the training. It’s not a big deal, really. Just stay put and don’t go anywhere.”

“How long until we exit hyperspace?”

“Tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow? I need to get ready,” he said trying to stand.

“You can’t go into battle like this, you need to stay in bed!” Isabella tried arguing, but he would not listen.

“You’re joking, right? I feel mostly fine,” he said taking a step.

“No, I’m not! Sit your ass back down before I force you down.”

“You really think I’m going to miss out on the battle of a lifetime? There’s too much at stake to be worried about stupid nonsense like this!” He was now shouting her down. “I am Sobani, we fight until the bitter end and then we die fighting. This sidetrack can’t and won’t stop me,” he said moving for the door.

“You’re too weak right now,” the nurse argued.

“You’re wrong, I’m fine, see?” He raised his arms and ignored the pain. He gave a glare at the nurse who backed off with her needle and made a move for the door.

Isabella grabbed his arm and forced him to the ground.

“Get off.”

“No,” she said.

“Now, or I have you reprimanded for assaulting a superior.”

“Like they’ll listen. Look at you, Mark. What are you trying to prove?”

He didn’t have an answer, and he was too weak to remove her. “Don’t make me be the one to stick you with a needle. Because I will, and I won’t be gentle about it.”