Chapter Twelve: Racing Oblivion

"The dragon breaks the temple wall
The flood will drown our gods
Break down the temple wall
And let another kingdom rise

The castle of Olympia
Is shaken by the storm
The king lost his crown
And now the wall is tumbling down"

--Therion - Typhon

Adrian awoke with all his clothes on, lying across the foot of his bed. He groaned and sat up, his back and legs stiff from his sleeping across his bed instead of in it. He rubbed his eyes and looked around the room, which was lit only by a few night-light strips that gave off a faint bluish glow. The clock on his bedside read 9:36 AM, the red numbers glowing brightly in the darkness. He climbed out of bed, a spasm wracking his back as he stood up straight. He ran through the events of the previous day, including his drinking session with Rex and falling asleep in his friend's arms. He sighed as he realized he had made an ass of himself yet again. Not again, he thought. At this rate I might as well have "FAG" tattooed on my chest.

He flicked the light on, blinking a few times as he adjusted to the brightness. He longed for a window with sunlight streaming in and a blue sky outside. He had many fond childhood memories of being woken by the first rays of light streaming in through the window and striking his face on a summer morning. Here there was only the cold darkness of space outside, bleak and foreboding. He wished to be back on Mobius and feel the grass in his backyard under his bare feet as he soaked up the sun to get rid of the pasty complexion that came from months spent in space.

He stretched a bit and walked into the bathroom. The station's water rations were now being rotated daily to save, with some rooms being allowed more water on certain days. His room would have a large water allotment today, so he decided to take advantage by having a bath instead of a shower.

Adrian stripped off his clothes and turned on the taps of the bathtub, waiting until it was two thirds full. He put his hand into the water to test the temperature. Just right. He got into the bathtub, closing his eyes as the hot water relaxed his muscles. The pain in his back faded as he sank almost up to his shoulders into the water. He soaked in the hot water for several minutes, allowing himself to relax completely. He began to shampoo the spines on his head as he heard the doorbell ring. He pressed a button on the wall that activated the room's intercom system.

"Hey," said Rex over the intercom link. "It's me, Rex. Can I come in?"

"I'm taking a bath right now. You can come in if you must, just don't open the bathroom door."

"I think I'll just wait outside. I don't want to impose on you. Tell me when you're finished."

"Sure."

After he finished bathing, he put on a bathrobe, wrapped a washcloth around his soggy spines, and let Rex into the room.

"So how are you?" said Rex as he walked in.

"I'm OK. I would feel better if I hadn't been laid across my bed like a piece of laundry. You wouldn't have had anything to do with that, would you, Rex?"

"Riptos did that. I had fallen asleep on the couch with you and Riptos came in, put you there, and woke me up."

"Tell him he gave me a wicked backache."

"I'm sure he would sympathize with you, since he's been having backaches himself recently," said Rex as he sat down and took off the sandals he wore with his civilian clothes. "He's currently taking medication and receiving physiotherapy during the evening to help keep the pain under control. I don't think he'll be able to fly much longer though. He's had a long career, and his age is catching up to him."

"How old is he anyway?"

"Forty-three."

"That's real old for a fighter pilot."

"Yeah. He probably won't retire unless his superiors drag him kicking and screaming on the shuttle home."

"Dedicated to his work, huh?"

"Hell yes. He's never known any other life, really, and I can tell he's afraid of having to find a new direction in life. This job gives him stability and lets him direct his energies outwards to other people. He likes caring for people and hates being dependent himself.

'Hmmmm," said Adrian. He couldn't find words for a reply so he just turned what Rex said over and over in his head.

"He's like a father to me, and he's been mentoring me since I graduated from OCS. He keeps some aspects of our friendship secret from the other members of the squadron to give the appearance that he's not giving me special treatment. I know him well enough to get a glimpse of the side of him that he keeps hidden from other people, and I sense that he's starting to burn out emotionally as well as physically. He doesn't talk or act the same way he used to--it's like a vague aura of gloom follows him everywhere. He thinks he can handle everything himself, but I don't think he can anymore. I'm worried about him, Adrian."

"Have you tried talking it over with him?"

"Yes, but he doesn't listen. He has serious problems that he refuses to acknowledge, and I think the other members of my squadron realize that just as much as I do, but they're afraid to tell him."

Don't you think it would be a good idea to get your comrades together and bring it up in a manner so that he can't just brush it off?"

"That would likely just alienate him, and we would be disrespecting his authority. We could relieve him of his command, but there are three problems with that: first, I am next on the chain of command, and I don't feel like I'm ready to step in to replace him yet. Second, we would have to justify our actions before a military tribunal, and I don't think we could do it. Third, Riptos would feel extremely upset and betrayed. How would you feel if you were a leader and the subordinates you had trusted for years suddenly took away your command against your will?"

"But surely there must be something you can do."

"I can only help him if he wants help. If he refuses to open up, than we will just have to stand by and let his life go wherever it will go."

"I feel sorry for you. I wish there were a way for me to help you."

"You have enough of your own problems. Try to get your own life straightened out before you start trying to fix other people's lives."

"How long have you been in the navy?"

"Five years. This is the first war I've fought in. Riptos became a pilot on the tail end of the War of the Three Powers, and even was injured during one battle. He still has the scar on his chest. He is the only one of us who had seen real combat before this war. That would probably be twenty years ago now. He's also the only one without a college degree because you didn't need one to become an officer back then."

"I've been working on freighters for three seasons now. Each year they give you three months on and nine off, because the work conditions are too hostile for a person to do year-round. Even a three-month season can work hell on your muscles and bones, and I'm currently missing seven teeth due to my work. I couldn't brush them so they became decayed and had to be extracted."

"With all the dirt and grime on those ships, don't you get sick a lot?"

"Hell yes. I spent much of the last season with some illness or another and just worked through it, except for one week where I had a terrible chest infection that made me too sick to work. I get sick frequently even on leave nowadays."

"Does anyone ever die on those ships?"

"Very rarely, but it does happen. People make them out to be death traps, but that's not really true. The usual cause of death is from a bacterial disease epidemic on a ship that runs out of antibiotics."

"So what do you do when you go back home?"

"I mostly just relax and have fun. I spend a lot of the first few weeks after returning at beaches or hot springs so I can get a decent complexion back. The hot water also helps relieve the muscle aches caused by the rehabilitation therapy. Oh jeez, now my back's killing me again."

"Just wait there, I'll get a heating pad from Riptos' room. I don't think he'll mind me borrowing one for a few hours while he's out in combat." Rex put his shoes back on and left the room.

Adrian walked over to his dresser and pulled out some clothes. He quickly removed his bathrobe and got dressed, leaving his shirt unbuttoned so he could slip the heating pad in when Rex came back. He lay down on his bed, trying to draw his mind away from the pain in his back.

--

Fiz effortlessly slaughtered three soldiers who rounded the corner with a telepathic attack as she ran. Her ship had been hounded more or less constantly by pirates for the last day. Now one ship had managed to teleport boarders in. They weren't just raiding to steal something of value, they had come to kill her.

She plunged a knife into the back of a pirate who was trading fire with one of the crewmen and bounded past the startled crewman before crushing another attacker's head with a roundhouse kick. She turned the corner to see Abbadon dismembering a pirate with his mechanical arm and shooting at another with a gun held in the hand of his organic arm.

Fiz came over to Abbadon. "This is fucking nuts!" she yelled over the din of gunfire.

"My sentiments exactly." Abbadon extended a blade from his mechanical arm and decapitated another pirate.

"Where's Dynamo?"

"He's running all around the ship killing people."

Fiz's ears perked up as she heard a voice like Dynamo's let out a bloodcurdling scream. "Fuck!" she yelled. She broke into a run yet again, Abbadon close behind her.

Fiz came to the engine room and found Dynamo lying face-down on the floor, whimpering and bleeding from his shoulder, which was impaled with a metal pole. A cybernetically enhanced human stood over the wounded hedgehog, watching Dynamo trying to get up. The man kicked Dynamo over as soon as the hedgehog had gotten up on his knees. Fiz pounced on the man and punched him in the chest with all of her strength. The human staggered back for a few seconds but then grabbed Fiz's wrist as she launched another post and flung her against the wall.

Abbadon raised his gun but was suddenly overcome by overpowering nausea. He fell to his knees and vomited on the floor, his guts churning. He immediately put up a telepathic block, straining to keep the human from invading his mind. The human clutched his head and howled in pain as Fiz unleashed her own psychic attack. Abbadon fired a burst at the human's chest, but the bullets bounced off the man's subdermal armor. The human retaliated with a sharp kick to the stomach, sending Abbadon across the room. Fiz jammed a knife in between two of the human's armor plates, temporarily incapacitatin him. She lashed out telepathically, frying thousands of neurons and synapes in his head before being blocked out. The man ripped a metal beam out of the ceiling and swung it at her, knocking her out.

Unbeknownst to any of them, Dynamo had risen to his feet and staggered over towards the three combatants. With a cry of fury and rage, he sank his hand-blades into his back and blasted electricity through them. The human let out a strangled cry and toppled over, smoke rising from his body. Abbadon kicked him to make sure she was dead. Dynamo staggered over towards Fiz, sorrow evident on his face. Abbadon put an arm around his torso to keep him from falling.

"She'll be all right. She just got knocked out. I think you're the one in worse shape."

Fiz groaned, opened her eyes, and sat up. "Ow, my fucking head," she said. She stood up and walked over to Abbadon and Dynamo. "Is the party over?" she said.

"Yeah," said Abbadon. Metal-head down there is dead, and I don't hear any gunfire. Looks like we got out of another sticky situation."

"Yeah, but probably not for long. What the fuck kind of pirate group can get ahold of a telepath?"

"I think whoever was running that station really wants us dead."

"Well no shit. We snuck onto the station, killed a whole fuckload of people, hijacked the computer systems, mindfucked and murdered the station commander, and made off with a bunch of documents. The real surprise is that they managed to get on our trail. But I think we should make patching up Dynamo our first priority right now."

Abbadon walked behind Fiz towards the infirmary, helping Dynamo steady himself. They still had a long way to go, and Dynamo would not be fit to fight for quite a while. Now they were down to two, and they had a long and difficult fight ahead of them.

--

"Lieutenant Wishmaster, can you hear me?"

"Uggggghhhhh."

Deathwish opened his eyes and saw a clean white tiled ceiling above him, His leg felt as if it were on fire. Each breath brought a burst of pain. A medic was standing over him, writing something on a clipboard. "Where the hell am I?" he wheezed.

"You're on a medical frigate. Your ship was destroyed by a cluster missile attack. You managed to eject, but not quick enough, it seems. Do you remember what happened?"

"No. Yes. Fuck." He remembered strafing an Earth bomber, the bomber firing a cluster missile, and ejecting as the bomblets tore apart his ship. And Skitz's ship. And Riptos's ship. He suddenly felt a horrible sinking feeling deep in his guts. "Where are Riptos and Skitz?"

"They're also on this ship. They fared better than you. Skitz is just fine and Riptos has a few bruises, but nothing serious enough to keep him out of action. You are not so lucky. Your right leg is broken in four places and three of your ribs are cracked."

"So that's why it hurts to breathe. Fucking Christ piss. Four of us shot down in two days. What wonderful fucking luck."

"Your squadron's losses are nothing exceptional. We've had terrible attrition rates recently. Ships like these are filled near capacity with the dead, dying, and wounded."

"So how is everyone else in the squadron?"

"They're still fighting. Lieutenant Nilman is commanding them."

"Pinky? The fucking poofterhog? Fuck you. I'd rather eat my own shit than see fagboy leading the squadron."

"Well, he is next on the chain of command. Right now, I think you should worry about your own problems and leave the war up to your comrades."

"Whatever. We're all going to hell in a handbasket anyway."

"Now if you'll excuse me, I have some more patients to attend. I'll see you later."

Deathwish watched him leave, feeling pathetic lying in a bed with a shattered leg. Was there any hope for Mobius? Probably not. The Mobian Federation was on its last legs, with Wolf 359 having sold out to Earth. But damned if they wouldn't keep trying.

--

Riptos reclined in an armchair in the room he had been given on the medical frigate, lying on his right side in the chair so his bruises didn't come in contact with anything. His left shoulder and arm, left hip, and tail were badly bruised, and anything that touched them caused considerable pain. His ears twitched as he heard the door opening.

"Hey, boss," said Skitz. "How are you feeling?"

"Like I got run by a bus, and then the bus backed up and ran over me again. Since I don't have any broken bones like Deathwish or head injuries like Rex, they want me to return to combat tomorrow. I'll probably be able to do it, but it's going to hurt like all hell. Riptos winced as Skitz gently prodded one of the purple splotches on his arm. "Ow! Don't do that!"

"Sorry. That looks like a pretty bad bruise. Would you like me to get you an ice pack to put there?"

"Sure, thanks."

"No problem." Skitz took a Ziploc bag from the kitchen cabinet and filled it full of ice from the freezer, then placed it over the bruise on Riptos' upper arm and shoulder. Riptos grimaced as the cold ice touched his bare skin. He had taken his shirt off earlier to keep the fabric from chafing on the tender skin. He relaxed a little as the cold numbed his skin. "Is that better?" said Skitz.

"Yeah. How goes the battle?"

"We're losing yet again. The Earthers have already taken the system's kuiper belt and are closing in on its outer planets. Junior Lieutenant Kravitz bought it while escorting a Mobian cruiser during the retreat from the kuiper belt."

Riptos's expression changed into one of sorrow. Kravitz was one of the newest members of the squadron, a quiet but energetic young man. He had been only twenty-one years old. "Should I notify the family now?"

"Captain Parks will do it. You need to rest right now. Skitz gently brushed his fingers through the fur on Riptos's back.

"Please stop doing that," said Riptos. "I don't need you to comfort me."

"Sorry about that. I didn't mean to make you mad."

"You didn't make me angry. Just...uncomfortable. I know you meant well. So what's Deathwish been doing?"

"The usual shit he does when something he doesn't like happens to him. Cursing, yelling at people, throwing a tantrum, pulling IVs out of his veins until they strapped him to the bed. Will he ever grow up?"

"Maybe. Maybe not. He and Pinky deserve each other."

"Indeed. If you locked them in an elevator, what do you think would happen?"

"I wouldn't want to be the guy who has to fix that elevator." Riptos yawned. "Can you come by some other time? I want to take a nap right now."

"That will be fine," said Skitz as he stood up from his chair and walked towards the door while Riptos lay down on the bed. "Bye, Riptos."

"See you later, Skitz." Riptos tucked his head against his chest. The next day would be the same old routine, and it would repeat over and over until either the Mobians were defeated or he could fight no longer. He closed his eyes and thought of how lucky he, Deathwish, Skitz, and Rex were to have survived being shot down, and of the huge number of pilots who did not have such luck. C'est la guerre, he thought.