Fall of Icarus

and terse.

She didn’t turn as she heard a hurried set of running footfalls behind her. A hand closed over her arm and spun her around. Yen stared at her, the jovial smile gone from his face. She matched his intensity with an angry look of her own.

“You here to tell me how much I screwed up?” Keryn growled. “Believe me, I can take care of reliving my failure all on my own.” Jerking, she broke free from his grip.

“That’s not why I’m here,” Yen replied sternly. “Yes, you screwed up, but you screwed up because you didn’t listen. If you do something like that when we finally face the Terrans, there won’t be another chance to beat yourself up. We’ll all be dead.”

“Don’t you think I already know that?” Keryn yelled at him. “And I did listen. I was ordered by the Squadron Commander to engage, and I engaged. I follow orders, Yen.”

“You’re right, you do. But that’s the one thing that you did wrong. The one thing you need to remember above all else is that when you’re in the cockpit, flying the Cair Ilmun, there is no one else that has a better view of the combat than you. Not Garrix, not the Revolution, not even me. When we’re in combat, you are the Captain of the ship. You answer to no one else. If it looks wrong, you disobey orders because, deep down, you know that it will save lives. You listened to someone who thought they knew better than you. But up there, no one knows better than you.”

Keryn sighed heavily. “And what do you propose I do next time?” she asked flatly.

“You want to find out? Then I propose you go out to dinner with me tomorrow,” Yen said. Keryn arched an eyebrow in confusion. “I have some ideas that I think will help us out next time we fly. If you’re interested, come to dinner with me tomorrow night and we can talk tactics.”

Feeling some of her animosity flood from her body, Keryn allowed herself a little smile. “When you asked me out to dinner, this isn’t exactly what I expected.”

“Business first, fun later,” Yen explained with a broad smile.

“Fine,” Keryn conceded. “Tomorrow night. It’s a date.”

She turned before Yen could figure out a quick witted retort and stepped onto one of the lifts. As the doors closed, she gave him a playful wave. Yen shook his head in wonderment as he took the next lift down to his own room, still not sure if Keryn was the single most brilliant pilot he had ever encountered or the single craziest. In the end, he realized he really didn’t care one way or the other.

CHAPTER THREE

The twelve Alliance Cruisers orbited the bloated gas giant, each in their own elliptical path, pacing the empty space like caged animals hungry for their next meal. Captain Hodge, sitting in the Captain’s chair onboard the Revolution, looked nearly as agitated and feral. Her feathery white wings shook in irritation as she frowned, unhappy with the current situation.

“Anything yet?” she asked Magistrate Young, the Uligart Communications Officer.

Young looked nervous as he replied. “Sorry, ma’am. Nothing yet.”

Captain Hodge sighed as she sunk deeper into her chair. For weeks, the Revolution and her sister ships had been on high alert, knowing that they could be called to duty at any time; called to hunt down and eliminate the Terran Destroyers. Yet, for all their bluster and repetitive training, no assignment had been forthcoming. She could nearly sense the tension seeping through the ship. Small fights had broken out, mainly between Infantry and Fleet soldiers. In garrison, such rivalries were ignored, often times welcomed, since the competitive nature drove both sides to excel. In a time of war, especially the first major public confrontation between the Alliance and the Empire in nearly one hundred and fifty years, Captain Hodge had neither the latitude nor the patience to deal with any disagreement that left a member of her crew in the infirmary.

A gentle cough woke Captain Hodge from her meditation. Looking over, her head leaning heavily on her hand in a show of discontent, the Captain noticed Young’s patient look. “Yes, Magistrate Young?”

“Ma’am, there’s a call for you.”

Captain Hodge sat upright in her chair, her wings unfurling and stretching. Perhaps their time of waiting was finally over. “Forward the message to my console,” she ordered.

As soon as the light at the base of her console flashed red, she reached out a shaking hand and pressed the button to receive. “This is Captain Hodge of the Revolution.”

Another Avalon face appeared on the screen. Unlike Captain Hodge’s more approachable and welcoming personality, the woman that looked back at her exuded a dour and gloomy visage. Her pencil thin lips and narrow eyes were hooded by narrow, arching eyebrows that gave her a constantly angry appearance. Adding those characteristics to her naturally gaunt face and pale skin, and Captain Nitella looked every part the villainess of a long forgotten fairy tale.

“You look disappointed to see me, Hodge,” Captain Nitella said, her musical voice sounding harshly with sharp notes. Captain of the Defiant, Nitella and Hodge traced a professional, if not personal, competitive friendship back for years during their concurrent years of service in the Fleet.

“The disappointment is not because of you, Nitella,” Hodge replied, slumping back into her chair. “I just grow so bored of flying around the same planet. I want action. I want intrigue. I want… something different.”

“We could always do another practice exercise,” Nitella offered, arching one of her angry brows.

Hodge sighed heavily. “No, I think we all had enough fun with the last one.” The last training exercise had been a stalemate, ending with most of the smaller Duun and Cair ships destroyed in the space between the two Cruisers and little true damage done to either ship. The end of the battle had wound up as little more than two ships sitting miles apart launching mock rocket after mock rocket at one another, all of which were destroyed long before reaching their target.

Though no real answer had been decided and no winner declared, the training exercise had been a disaster to Hodge. Not only was she unable to destroy the rival ship, the exercise showed a great weakness both in her pilots and her weapons teams on board the Revolution. With war potentially days away, she feared that her crew was grossly inadequate for such a determined enemy as the Terran Empire.

“You look tired,” Nitella stated. Hodge winced at the words. Even the most harmless of gestures seemed condescending when coming from her fellow Avalon. “I hope the stresses of Captaining the Fleet are not getting to you, Hodge.”

Captain Hodge frowned, refusing to be pulled into an argument with her rival. “Unfortunately, Nitella, I can’t continue this conversation. I want to make sure the lines are clear in case a more important call comes through. I’ll talk to you later.”

Hodge ended the call before the other Avalon realized her backhanded insult. Rubbing the palm of her hand over her eyes, Captain Hodge realized that Nitella might have been right. She had been manning the helm on and off for days, anticipating a call that had yet to come. Yearning for a distraction, she turned to her Tactical Officer and second in command.

“Eminent Merric,” she said, “come and discuss the last training exercise with me.” She hoped that he had seen something she hadn’t; that maybe, somewhere in their failed venture, there had been salvageable piloting.

Merric walked quickly to her side. The tall Pilgrim had immaculately trimmed dark hair, offset by pale skin and a permanent frown. Always displeased, Merric was a stickler for regulations, often able to quote the most obscure Fleet rule when it suited him. Though Hodge found him abrasive, she also knew that the crew feared his almost weekly inspections, which allowed her to run the ship without fear of mechanical or technical failures.

“Yes, ma’am,” Merric said as he snapped to attention before her.

“Relax, Eminent Merric,” she said, though she saw only the slightest shift in his position. Shaking her head softly, she realized that he was relaxed. “I want to discuss the training exercise against the Defiant.”

If it were possible, Merric’s frown deepened. “It was a despicable display, ma’am.”

Captain Hodge tried not to shoot him a disapproving look that would have matched his expression. “I realize the failures of this ship and its crew. What I am looking for is anything positive that came from our exercise.”