CassaSeries

Chapter Sixteen-2

The rockets flew from his Darten. Striking the orb, the disrupter core imploded, and the metal structure around the sphere crumpled from the blast. In a blinding flash, the force within the structure exploded, sending a wall of blue flame racing toward Byron’s ship. The flames licked his canopy, the heat penetrating his mind as he visualized the coordinates.

Jump!

A faint voice echoed in his head, penetrating the darkness.

I’m here because I care about a young man named Byron.

I love you, little brother.

Byron, pull up!

Byron!

Gasping for breath, he opened his eyes. The darkness remained, though. Blinking to adjust his vision, Byron struggled to focus on his surroundings.

After a moment, he noticed stars. They glowed brighter as his eyes grew accustomed to the faint light. The view beyond the canopy grew clear and Byron became aware of his ship. He felt the seat below him, its shape contoured to his inert body. The cockpit remained dark, save for one blinking light. The voice in his mind vanished, leaving cold, empty silence. If not for the pain in his head, Byron wondered if he still lived.

His head listed to one side, but he was reluctant to move just yet. Scanning the stars, he searched for a familiar object. One star appeared brighter than the others, its rays reaching out into space. He frowned, trying to understand the meaning behind the bright light. The blast of the disrupter core flashed in his mind, and he wondered if he bore witness to the explosion of the Vindicarn ship.

Did I do it? he thought.

His eyelids grew heavy. Succumbing to the weight, Byron returned to the darkness. He needed to test the ship’s engines, or at the very least try the com. He lacked the energy to raise his hands, though. His body as lifeless as the Darten, he wanted nothing more than to return to the black void.

Something prompted Byron to open his eyes. At first, he thought he was seeing things. He blinked, but the view beyond his cockpit remained the same. Two Cosbolts were hovering in front of his craft.

His muscles protested, but Byron forced his limp arm to rise. Fumbling with the controls, his fingers brushed the com button. At once, a loud voice filled the cockpit.

“Byron! Can you hear me?”

Forcing his brain to work, Byron realized that he recognized the speaker. “Ernx?” he said in a weak voice, channeling all of his energy into his friend’s name.

“He’s alive!” said Ernx.

Something struck his ship and a metallic sound reverberated up his spine. Rolling his head to the left, he noticed a recovery vessel beside his Darten. He heard a ratcheting sound and his little ship shuddered.

“Officer Byron, we’re going to side-tow your ship into the hangar,” a new voice informed him over the com.

“Hang on!” implored Ernx.

Closing his eyes, Byron listened to the sounds of the recovery vessel securing his Darten. His mind returned to the bright star he’d seen earlier.

“Did I do it?” he said, unsure if his voice would be heard.

“Did you?” said Ernx, emitting a bark of laughter. “Byron, the explosion was huge! You didn’t just destroy the disrupter ship. You took out the smaller escort vessels and almost every enemy fighter as well. You took them all out!”

Byron’s lips curled into a faint smile. “For you, Bassa,” he whispered, his eyes still closed.

“What was that?” said Ernx. “Byron, just hang on. We’ll have you back in the hangar in a minute.”

Byron’s eyes remained closed until the jolt of the landing vibrated through his spine. The recovery vessel guided his ship to the hangar door before releasing the tiny Darten. Once in position, Byron’s ship taxied into the hangar. His eyes widened at the scene awaiting him.

The hangar sat packed to capacity with ships and bodies. He assumed with so many squadrons landing at once, there’d not been time to wheel all of the Cosbolts out of the way. What stunned Byron though was the sheer amount of men present in the hangar. They couldn’t all be awaiting his return.

His ship came to a halt. Spurred by the crowd, Byron managed to release the canopy. He fumbled with his helmet a moment before it lifted from his head. The anxious face of a medical officer came into view and the man unfastened the harness. He assisted Byron with his gloves and grabbed his hand, pulling Byron from the cockpit. A second technician helped him extract his legs and Byron swung his feet over the edge of the ship.

Applause and cheers erupted across the hangar. Raising his head, Byron stared in surprise as the crowd surged forward. He’d not anticipated the eager welcome. Flashing a hesitant smile to those gathered, he allowed his body to slide from the ship to the top step of the ladder. The medics held on to his arms and lowered Byron down the steps.

Clinging to the handrail, his foot missed the last step. Strong hands gripped him before Byron slid to the floor. Raising his gaze to the man’s face, he was surprised to discover the commander assisting him. He returned the grasp with hesitation, afraid his actions would seem inappropriate, but Kernen smiled with pride.

“You did it, son,” he exclaimed above the commotion. The noise from the crowd had not lessened in its intensity.

A hand pressed against his back, and Larnth steadied the shaken pilot. Together the two men led Byron to the gurney. Kernen gave orders for everyone to stand back and give Byron some room. The crowd stepped back although the noise from the men did not subside. Byron’s head began to pound again and he willingly stretched out on the gurney. The medics joined them and worked to secure his body before moving toward the exit.

Byron closed his eyes, his energy spent. He could still feel the heat of the blast. His mind didn’t feel on fire as before, but his head throbbed from exposure to the disrupter.

He heard those around him offering words of congratulations and encouragement, and hands patted his arms as the gurney moved across the hangar. The noise was a distant roar in his ears, but one voice rose above the others.

“Let us through!”

A hand grasped his shoulder and another gripped his fingers. When neither relinquished their hold, he opened his eyes. Ernx and Nintal’s grinning faces greeted him. His friends’ presence a comfort, he made a feeble attempt to return their smiles. The men remained with him until they entered the medical facility. When no longer felt their hands, Byron surrendered to his exhaustion.

When he awoke, Byron discovered himself alone in a dark room. Sounds drifted in from further down the hall, but outside of the ship’s gentle hum, it was quiet. His head no longer hurt and after the intense heat of the disrupter, the cool sheets a comfort on his body. The monitor over his head was still, and he realized no wires or tubes were attached to his skin, either.

Stretching his arms, Byron discovered his muscles had regained their strength. He pulled his body upright, grateful the confining cockpit of the Darten no longer restrained his movement. Free of the pounding headache, he tested his mental abilities. Reaching beyond his room, Byron heard the internal voices of two nearby medical personnel and the man in the room next door. His senses appeared none the worse from exposure to the disrupter core. With his mind intact and body no longer exhausted, Byron felt whole again.

A peace settled over him and he closed his eyes. He’d destroyed the Vindicarn ship and returned alive. It was more than just the success of his mission or the elimination of a great threat to the fleet, though. Byron experienced a sense of vindication and closure. His status left in question by Bassa’s death, Byron still managed to fulfill his obligations as an officer and a pilot. Most on the Sorenthia doubted the young and inexperienced rookie, but he’d proven his worth. Bassa always saw greatness in his pilot, and Byron wished his friend could’ve shared the moment. Recalling the voice in his head, he realized Bassa’s physical presence might be lacking, but not his spirit. The greatest navigator in the fleet would live on in Byron’s mind.

He arose and moved on hesitant legs toward the bathroom. When he emerged, a medical technician was waiting.

“My apologies, Officer Byron,” he said, moving to the pilot’s side.

Byron protested the assistance “I’m fine now. When can I return to my quarters?”

The man gestured for him to get into bed. “Have your senses returned yet?” he said, glancing at the monitor.

Yes.

The technician flashed him a brief smile. “It’s early, but let me see if I can locate one of the senior officers. Are you hungry? You’ve had nothing but water since your arrival.”

“I’d rather eat in my quarters,” Byron said. His stomach rumbled in protest, but he wanted to leave more than he wanted to eat.

“I will return soon,” the man promised as he departed. “Glad to see you’re awake now.”

Guess I’ve been asleep the whole time, he thought to himself.

A fresh glass of water resided by his bed and Byron quenched his thirst. Returning the glass to the stand, he ran fingers through his hair. He’d emerged from the Darten drenched in sweat from head to toe. Byron expected his hair to feel nasty, but the short strands were clean. His skin no longer felt sticky, either.

Did I sleep through a bath as well?

The senior medical officer arrived a few minutes later. He greeted Byron with a smile.

“You’re much more alert now,” he observed, tipping Byron’s chin back to look into his eyes.

“Did I sleep through it all?” he said. “I don’t remember anything after landing.”

The officer turned to the monitor. “You roused several times, but between exposure to the disrupter and the heat, your mind and body shut down while you healed.”

“Oh. I feel better now, though. I’d really like to return to my quarters.”

The officer smiled again and Byron realized words amused the man. However, the senior officer performed a full assessment of Byron’s condition, including his senses. Eager to depart, he didn’t even resist when the man tested his mind. When told he could leave, Byron sighed.

“It appears your senses have fully recovered,” the medical officer announced, “but you’ll be on injured reserve for another day or two.”

Byron brushed aside his hair. “Don’t think I could jump right now anyway.”

“That won’t be required anytime soon,” a new voice stated with authority.

Looking up, Byron realized the commander had slipped into the room. He sat up straighter, affecting a respectful pose, but Kernen smiled and nodded. The medical officer repeated his assessment of Byron’s physical and mental state in the commander’s presence. Satisfied with the report, Kernen dismissed the man.

“It appears your mission was a success on every level, Officer Byron,” he said with a wry grin.

“I didn’t intend to fail, sir,” said Byron, grasping the edge of bed sheets. “I hope taking out that disrupter ship made a difference, sir.”

Placing his hands behind his back, Kernen straightened his shoulders. “From the reports pouring in from the rest of the fleet, the Vindicarn are retreating from all sectors. We just turned the tide in this war, Byron, and we have you to thank.”

Byron just shook his head. He didn’t want the glory. “I did what was needed, sir.”

The commander’s smile grew, deepening the lines around his mouth. “You did well, son,” Kernen told him, patting Byron’s shoulder. “Bassa would’ve been proud of your accomplishment.”

The sound of his navigator’s name tugged at his heart, but Byron managed a weak smile. “Thank you, sir.”

“I will leave you to get dressed,” the commander said, turning to depart. “And I believe you will have an escort to your quarters.”

“An escort, sir?”

The commander paused in the doorway. “Several,” he said with a wink.

Byron dressed in haste. The thought of what awaited him once he stepped through those double doors caused him concern though. Perhaps it was only Ernx and Nintal, and maybe Hannar and Deacer, in the waiting room.

The doors slid open and Byron pulled up short. The room was filled to capacity. Every member of his squadron seemed to be present. The men began to applaud and Byron’s eyes widened. Before he could move or retreat, someone gave him a rough hug.

“Byron!” Ernx cried in his ear, thumping his back.

He heard several others call his name. Ernx released Byron and before he could respond, someone else grabbed his arm and patted his shoulders. Nintal appeared on the other side, eager to greet his friend. Overwhelmed, Byron backed away from the crowd and pressed his back against the wall.

Everyone settle down!

Hannar’s thoughts brought order to the chaos. The men kept their distance, although they continued to grin at Byron. Bassa’s friend turned to face him and patted his shoulder.

“Sorry, we’re just excited to see you,” he explained. “We thought we’d lost you, Byron.”

Feeling his confidence return, Byron stood up to his full height. “Thought I’d lost me, too.”

His comment sent a wave of laughter across the room. Byron smiled as well and realized it felt good. He’d not smiled in so long.

“You did it, Byron!” someone called from the back of the room.

Byron shrugged. “I just did what was necessary…”

Hannar’s eyes narrowed. “Byron, it may well end this damn war!”

“None of us could’ve done it,” Nintal exclaimed in exasperation.

“Makes you one of the best damn pilots in the fleet.”

Byron met Larnth’s eyes and realized his squadron leader meant it, and the sentiment seconded by everyone in the room. Byron tried to hide his incredulous expression, but his open thoughts gave away his stunned disbelief. Embarrassed and humbled, he lowered his chin.

Ernx placed his hand on his shoulder in reassurance. The pilot’s fingers tightened.

Damn, you’re shaking.

Byron glanced at his hands and saw that he indeed trembled. Last time I ate was before the mission, he thought, grateful for a legitimate excuse.

“You haven’t eaten since yesterday morning?” Ernx exclaimed.

“Damn, let’s get you some food,” said Hannar, gesturing for the others to clear a path to the door.

Byron had hoped for a quiet meal in his quarters, but the men held other ideas. They marched him down to the dining hall, still voicing disbelief he’d not eaten for an entire day. The morning meal was just now being served and everyone grabbed a plate of food. Byron discovered an enormous amount of food on his plate when he cleared the line, courtesy of Hannar and Deacer. The dining hall buzzed with conversation as the crowd gazed at the young pilot. Ernx guided him to an open table and Byron’s squadron gathered protectively around him. Seated at last, he attacked his food with relish.

His comrades talked among themselves while he ate. Once his hunger was sated, the men began asking questions. A small crowd gathered as he spoke, eager to hear his account of the disrupter core’s destruction. When he asked about the explosion, several officers described the scene in detail. Byron promised he would watch the Sorenthia’s recording of the blast later that day. Shame the heat melted his ship’s recording, as that view would’ve been incredible.

Detecting his growing fatigue, Ernx insisted Byron retire to his quarters. Escort in tow, he reached the safety of his room without further delay. Alone at last, he sought the solace of sleep.