9: Sky Riders
The Calsharan colony world of Tornya was one of the oldest of the major colonies, and the most populous. Tornya had, for centuries, been a major economic superpower within the Calsharan Systems Union. Now it served as the industrial backbone of the new Calsharan Alliance of Free Systems, its orbital shipyards being some of the most efficient in all of Calsharan territory. Ships were needed, just as much as able-bodied soldiers, and it was on a remote desert military base where a specific kind of soldier was being produced.
Toron had arrived on Tornya two days previously. He had been prioritised through the colony's strict customs system, received a copy of his orders and had been given a reasonable amount of the local currency to get him settled comfortably. Now he went to report for his next assignment, and that would be at the Larkon Creek Proving Grounds situated amidst a vast, barren desert far from any population centre. There was a small town along the highway, nestled amongst the mountainous, sandy landscape, a town that existed purely to service the needs of the soldiers stationed at the Proving Grounds. The necessities were offered within the base, yet like most things Calsharan there were no additional embellishments; there was nothing there that did not need to be there.
Toron, riding along on a four-wheeled all-terrain scout car, came upon the runways and hangars of the Proving Grounds minutes after being cleared at the main gate. In the scorching heat of the midday sun, Toron felt a thrill as he tore the quadbike down the main road whilst a Calsharan ground attack plane roared along the nearby runway. It raced in the opposite direction, a sleek chevron-shaped craft with a gleaming grey metal fuselage. The engines whined loudly as they idled, and as Toron watched it rapidly picked up speed before the nose of the craft dipped slightly and suddenly it was rising, up and up and speeding further. Within seconds it was fading into the cloudless blue sky, little more than a faint shining speck. The whine of the engines dissipated and Toron, who had spent far too long away from a fighter craft of any kind, managed a wide beaming smile as he tore along on his quadbike.
It was a refreshing change to be back on solid ground again. He had spent months at a time on board starships, yet after a while one could not help but feel a longing for genuine ground to be underfoot again. He had never been to Tornya before, so his time here based on that alone would be filled with new discoveries, new adventures even. It was the change he needed, and it was here on these Proving Grounds that he hoped to make a difference again. He had done as much on Vargania when this war had started; now he would do it again with the so-called 'Sky Riders' and the proposed attack on Jur's Anvil.
The base's administration building was a broad, rectangular structure towards the middle of the vast compound. Personnel of various branches milled about on their duties, and as Toron brought his quadbike to a halt outside of the building he sighted a squad of pilots-in-training, ten of them jogging along the edge of the parking area. Seeing them reminded him of his own days at that level, pushed to his limits again and again, all to be able to master one of the many combat aircraft within the Union's arsenal. It felt like a lifetime ago, and the thought that he might now be able to put that training to proper use again filled him with a renewed sense of purpose. He had spent too long sitting comfortably on the Lance of Might, and although he had worked to keep fit, the environment on board that cruiser had felt stifling. Hero of Vargania or not, he needed to do something, certainly more than he had been on board that ship.
He was dressed in an unassuming black vest over a drab set of grey fatigues that were otherwise bare, save for the rank insignia embroidered at their shoulders. His new uniform would be issued once he had settled in here; first thing he had to do was report to the base commander.
Switching off his quad-bike's engine, he climbed off and started for the admin building's entrance. Glass doors slid aside to allow access to a well air-conditioned and spacious reception area adorned with flags and crests of the various organizations these Proving Grounds were utilised by. This included the overall government of Tornya, or rather the 'Colonial Authority of the Colony of Tornya'. The emblem of the Calsharan Systems Union, that of the seven-pointed star that represented Calshae Prime and the six major colonies, had been removed from its place on the wall above the desk. A very stark outline remained, for that crest had been in place for a very long time. And even that same crest had been set into the tiles underfoot; someone had simply covered it with a drab green rug.
The reception staff pointed him the right way and called the commander ahead of his arrival. Toron climbed up a set of stairs to the third and upper-most level, passed through two more security checkpoints and finally came upon the office of the base commander himself. As soon as he knocked upon the old-fashioned wooden door, a gruff voice called from beyond it: "Come in, Captain."
Toron pushed it open and stepped inside. The office was spacious, more so than most offices Toron had seen before. A few old energy weapons were situated upon a plaque at one wall, and a handful of holographic images were being projected at the other wall. The blinds were drawn at the rear of the figure seated behind the desk, and as Toron entered the base commander rose to his feet and approached the young Captain.
"Punctual, that's good." The base commander was a tall, ageing male with deep black, weathered scales. Pale yellow eyes stood out starkly amongst them. His uniform denoted him as a General, although the Union emblems had been visibly taken off of the uniform's shoulders. "Although, I must say Captain, it is unusual for a pilot to volunteer for the Sky Riders."
Volk Durren was the commander of the Proving Grounds, and from what Toron understood he had a reputation for being a firm taskmaster. He had a long and illustrious career behind him, one that had seen him rise through the ranks in the infantry before finally settling on a more comfortable command position here. No doubt he had his scars to prove his veteran status, much like Toron had a fair few of his own. Nonetheless, here and now General Durren seemed amiable and welcoming. Toron had been expecting something a little more severe. Then again, he only knew of the man from the few reports concerning him he had read, as well as hearsay amongst some of the officers on board the Lance of Might.
"Then again, it is unusual for anyone to volunteer for the Sky Riders," Durren added, and his mouth formed into a small grin. "So, either you are very brave, and your record suggests as much, or you are very stupid. Maybe you have a death wish?" He quirked a brow-ridge then, eyeing Toron with further curiosity. Toron was not sure if he was supposed to answer that question or not, so for the moment he remained quiet.
"Your record is impeccable," Durren continued, once he could tell that Toron did not intend to answer his question. "Your scores at the Academy on the home world were well within the top percentile. You're an able and conscientious officer. If anything, you should be fighting on the side of the Union, loyal to the High Protector. But fate went ahead and put you on Vargania when the war started. And there, you led a disparate rebel force to victory in the streets of that colony's capital. Any General would want you at his disposal, so it's no wonder Commodore Varga put you on his staff. And yet, here you are, apparently eager to throw yourself into the most hazardous role we can possibly give you."
Toron said nothing and simply stood his ground underneath the General's increasingly withering gaze. It was the kind of look that might make a recruit anxious, but to Toron he was more than used to measuring up before a firm commanding officer.
"Whatever talent you have, it would appear your brother did not inherit the same thing. Valkas Kavellan was, by all appearances, an underachiever who cared little for the service. Do you know what happened to him?"
Toron frowned. He had not expected this line of questioning. Durren, who had been watching him with a curious eye, simply smiled.
"I mean nothing by it, Captain. I'm simply curious. Forgive this ageing soldier his curiosity."
"My brother ran off with some humans from Earth, sir." Toron spoke in a level tone, rattling off the facts as he knew them. "He is currently missing in action, from what I learned." He decided not to tell the General what he had learned from those at Stargate Command, concerning his brother and his human lover, Captain Joanne Bowers. That was a whole other matter in itself, one that even Toron had trouble believing. He somehow doubted General Durren would believe it either, if he were told that Visala, founder of modern Calsharan civilisation, had in fact started as a human woman and Valkas as her husband.
"Probably for the best," the General remarked. "He can avoid this wretched war, wherever he is."
Toron nodded. Again, it seemed prudent to keep quiet on the fact that his brother had assisted Visala in her war effort little over one-thousand years ago. Any official records pertaining to these events had been destroyed or buried by the new High Protector, Tarva Garall, who had purged the Vigilants of Varondaar, the organization who had protected this ancient knowledge. Somehow, Toron got the impression that the destruction of such knowledge would come back to bite them later.
"Captain, you wish to volunteer for work that no one, not I nor the Commodore, would ask of you. The proposed mission is suicidal, at least in the eyes of many. I do believe it is possible, but as for the survival rate of those involved…" He trailed off, the implication clear. "Unfortunately, we need something to break the stalemate this civil war of ours has become. Neither side is willing to lay waste to population centres, not where they can help it. There are too many people out there undecided on what side they should support, and committing atrocities would only drive those people to one side or the other. Nonetheless, strategic targets often result in collateral damage. I suspect the High Protector and his Generals have less care for such a thing than we do."
Neither side, be it the Union or the Alliance, had used any so-called 'weapons of mass destruction' thus far in the war. There had been strategic fusion bomb strikes, but those had always been well away from any major population centre and had targeted the likes of military bases and weapons facilities. Both sides played it safe, almost 'conventional'. Because of this, neither side made any real progress in terms of winning the war. It was odd, or so Toron thought, but it was understandable. Indeed, the term 'civil war' seemed more apt than ever.
"What do you know of Jur's Anvil?" The General asked him, interrupting Toron's train of thought.
"It's a gas giant, sir. Located in a star system about fifteen light years from the home world system."
"Yes, and it's a gas giant surrounded by an asteroid belt. A dangerous asteroid field at that, which has made it the perfect place for one of the Union's more critical research facilities to be located. They're making new prototype fighter craft there, and they've accelerated these projects since the war started. If they can get an edge in terms of fighter craft, then they may turn this war in their favour." The General scratched at the pair of stubby horns protruding from his chin, an absent gesture on his part whilst he pondered the matter at hand further. "The place is heavily guarded, by both automated systems and manned patrol craft. It is also close enough to the home system that any full-scale incursion will likely be detected well before it can near the Jur system."
"So, we use a stealth ship."
"Exactly." General Durren nodded his head. "A single stealth craft, and thereby too small to carry any sizeable fighter complement. It will need to get in close enough for the modified transports on board to be able to infiltrate the asteroid field. From there, a contingent of Special Environment Shock Troopers will deploy." 'Special Environment Shock Trooper' was essentially the official term for the 'Sky Riders', although the more colloquial name was one even the commanders in charge used.
"The field is mined and patrolled. It is unlikely the full contingent of troopers will make it to the facility. And getting there is the easy part." Durren sighed, as if even he could not believe what was being asked of the Sky Riders. "There are certain ways into the facility according to our Union records, exhaust vents for the main power core. Even those are not without an element of risk. And once inside, explosives must be placed in certain areas to maximise the effect of the detonation. Information about the prototype fighters should also be acquired, although that is listed as a 'secondary objective' on the documents I have received."
"You don't think it can be done, sir?" Toron asked him. Hearing it all laid out in such simple terms, even Toron had his doubts. It would be the most daring raid in Calsharan history, at least since the great war one-thousand years before.
"It can be done, Captain," Durren replied, and his voice hardened. "It is the cost at which that success will come. With you here, then our chances are improved slightly. The first problem, before we can even get close to carrying out this mission, is the fact that many of the Sky Riders are no longer present. Some deserted when the war began, taking themselves and their skills to the Union. Most of those who remain have no field experience outside of training exercises." He met Toron's eyes, and the younger male could see they were filled with a deep concern. "And you, Captain, are no Sky Rider. You're a pilot, so you'll need to become well-acquainted with the equipment of an S-E Trooper."
Toron had known this before coming here and had told himself he would undergo whatever training necessary. Of course, he would have only a small window in which to train. The mission had to be carried out soon, to better increase the odds of putting a stop to the special projects at the facility before any of the prototypes were transferred elsewhere.
"Some would say you were mad for choosing this assignment," the General added.
"Maybe, sir, but someone has to do it."
General Durren frowned slightly when he heard this remark.
"You think you're the one to do it?" He asked.
"With help, sir."
"Yes, of course, with the help of an entire team of certified Sky Riders at your disposal. I wouldn't expect you to carry this out on your own, even though I get the impression you would volunteer for that as well." He paused, and it appeared that another pressing thought occurred to him in that instant: "Something happened, didn't it, Captain?"
"What do you mean, sir?" Toron was not sure what the General was getting at. He suspected it was something personal.
"Something happened that made you want to volunteer for the most dangerous assignment you could find," the General added. "Did someone close to you die? Is that it?" When Toron did not reply, the General's pale blue eyes narrowed further: "I've seen it before, Captain, you can't fool me. You lost someone and suddenly you don't care about yourself anymore. You just want to lash out, and maybe while doing so you get yourself killed and all your problems disappear."
Toron remained silent. The General continued, having figured that he was on the right track:
"Your own personal death wish is one thing, Captain, but remember: out there, you'll have others relying on you. People you need to look out for. If, at any time, I suspect you're acting out of your own recklessness instead of for the betterment of the mission, I'll ground you. Simple as that. No flying, be it in a fighter's cockpit or in a thruster pack. Is that clear?"
The question was delivered in as stern a voice as the veteran General could muster. His eyes locked with Toron's own, and they appeared far more piercing than they had before. Gone was the gentle weariness Toron had noticed in them earlier. After a moment, Toron nodded in the affirmative.
"Perfectly clear, sir," he replied.
"Good." The General's expression relaxed, and he smiled again. The tension evaporated almost as quickly as it had come between them. "Now, you'll want to meet the others. They're probably not the kind of soldiers you're used to working with."
There was a fresh-faced young Lieutenant waiting for Toron downstairs. He was even younger than when Toron had first been promoted to the rank. Sark Varsla had only just received his rank, and the first thing he did as soon as Toron found him was proclaim, in a hurried voice, how much he admired Toron and that he himself hoped to live up to his expectations. As for Toron's expectations, he had no idea what they were regarding the Lieutenant for the simple fact that he hardly even knew the young male.
"I watched every recording made of the battle of Vargania, sir," Sark continued, as they emerged from the administration building and began to take the lengthy walk towards the assigned barracks for the Sky Riders. "Every piece of footage made, be it official broadcasts or private recordings. I saw you there, right in the thick of it."
"So, you probably saw all those people dying around me?" Toron asked, already feeling as if he had stumbled into a 'babysitting' assignment. Sark wore the uniform of a Tornyan fleet officer, yet his shoulders were adorned with the white wings logo of the Sky Riders. Creator only knew how Sark had landed a position with them. Toron suspected nepotism.
"Yes, well, it's war, isn't it?" Sark had been caught off-guard by this question, but otherwise maintained his upbeat demeanour. Emerald green eyes looked expectantly to Toron as the pair walked under the heat of the midday sun, a warm breeze billowing down the runway ahead of them. Sark's blue-tinged scales practically gleamed in the light.
"And you're from Tornya?"
"Yes, sir. Been here all my life." He certainly had the accent, so Toron simply nodded in acknowledgment. They came upon a small, rectangular and somewhat ramshackle building situated behind a pair of hangars. This was the Sky Riders' barracks, although the sign over the front door had been scribbled over in rather crude handwriting. Where 'Special Environment Shock Troopers 1st Division' had been printed, someone had painted over it with the words 'Insane Asylum'. Back on the home-world, in all the various bases and installations Toron had been to, such a break in protocol would have been corrected (graffiti was hardly proper etiquette). Here, however, the Sky Riders had been allowed some level of freedom unheard of back on Calshae Prime.
"So, what?" He turned to the Lieutenant, the pair stopping before the door. "You're on the team?"
"I'm to be your second-in-command, sir." Sark sounded pleased with himself. Toron, who had hardly been looking forward to training up what few Sky Riders remained, now realised he would have more than a bunch of rowdy shock troopers to contend with. On top of that, he had a rookie officer as his right-hand man.
"You volunteered?"
"Same as you, sir. Once I heard you would be coming, I put in my request. The Hero of Vargania, here, and with the Sky Riders?" Sark smiled broadly. "How could I let this opportunity slip by?"
Toron sighed. He could see there would be problems already, beyond the obvious difficulty of the mission. He reached for the control pad by the door, only to realise there was not actually a keypad there. Rather, the door was an old-fashioned manual one, and his fingers instead found the small notch at one side and pulled. The door slid along an ageing housing, grinding audibly as it did so. Beyond was a simple barracks, rowed with mostly vacant bunks wherein many of the blinds had been drawn over the windows. There was the odd computer terminal, some footlockers and a bathroom accessible through a door down the end of the hall. The room itself was cast in the subdued shafts of light where the blinds had been left open.
There had to be thirty beds in here, maybe a few more. At least fifteen were in use, judging from the presences of ruffled sheets, or jackets hanging by them or personal effects such as data-pads and holographic emitters situated on the nightstands between each set of bunks. There were six of the base's resident Sky Riders present, most gathered around the seats and tables down by the door into the barracks' restroom. Three of them sat about a table playing some form of game involving dice and the exchange of money, and as soon as the door slid open they scrambled quickly to hide their activities. One sat off to the side, engrossed in a data-pad. This one hardly looked up as the Captain and his aide walked inside.
One of the Sky Riders was seated at a small table, caught up in his work in disassembling a standard-issue plasma rifle. He was a visibly older one than the others, a broad-shouldered male with a stern countenance and deep grey skin. He hardly looked up at the two new arrivals, so immersed he was in his work.
Another of the group was a young female, and she was resting sprawled on her bunk, her light green scales glinting under the light that cut in through the window next to her. She sat up as Toron and Sark approached, and she was quick to motion to the others.
"All right, everybody, stand to attention!" She slid off of her bunk, her uniform creased and untidy, and she promptly stood up straight and saluted. The others did so at varying levels of urgency, with the three who had been gambling doing so frantically and messily, enough for one of them to knock over the deck of cards they had attempted to hide. The whole lot of them spilled onto the floor, and they in turn knocked over a small flask of what was no doubt liquor that in turn clattered to the floor amongst the cards. Its brown-tinged liquid contents spilled across the floorboards.
The male reading the data-pad rose to his feet slowly. The older male working on the rifle set the receiver back into place, carefully laid the weapon down upon the table before him and then stood up straight. He set his eyes upon Toron, sighting the rank insignia upon him. His blue eyes narrowed but otherwise he said nothing, he simply stood to attention.
"Is this all of you?" Toron asked. He approached the disparate group slowly, eyes surveying each member in turn.
"This is first squad, sir," the female Private replied. She turned to him, standing stiffly to attention. "Second squad is on leave until tomorrow."
"Leave?" Toron narrowed his eyes. All of these squad members looked his way expectantly, each gaze filled with varying measures of judgment. They were trying to work him out, this newcomer of sufficient rank. He did not wear their uniform but he was certainly part of the service. The older male, a Corporal from what Toron could tell, was watching him with more scrutiny than the rest.
"Exactly what have they been doing that warrants them being permitted leave?" Toron asked. If he was going to lead this group, then he had to exert his dominance fast. His question caught him a scowl from the older male.
"With all due respect, Captain, but that is hardly your concern." The older Corporal remained at attention, yet this did little to distract from the disdainful look he was directing to Toron. "You are not part of this team, sir."
"That is where you're wrong, Corporal." Toron took a few steps towards the older male. They stood at about the same height, so there was no opportunity here for one to look down upon the other. "I am your new commanding officer. That includes both first squad and second squad." He gestured to the young Lieutenant standing a few paces to his right. "This is Lieutenant Sark Varsla. You will grant him the same level of respect as you will to me."
There followed a short pause as the Corporal eyed Toron, and then directed another suspicious gaze towards Sark. Toron knew then that this Corporal was the one who more or less 'lead' the group, more so than whatever officer in charge did. It was that natural affinity for leadership at work here, bolstered by the Corporal's age and, from that, his perceived level of experience. He had to be well into his thirties, a little old for a Corporal. There was likely a long story behind that.
"Who are you, Corporal?" Toron asked. The Corporal fixed Toron's gaze with his own.
"Corporal Ral Norvak," the Corporal replied. His accent was a thick Tornyan one, making his place of birth and his true loyalties all too obvious. "I've heard of you, Captain Kavellan. Everyone here has. You were on Vargania when this war started."
"That's right, Corporal." Toron paused briefly, before he offered the Corporal a slightly quirked eyebrow ridge, a questioning gesture. "You do seem a little old for that rank, Norvak."
"I was a Sergeant until recently," Corporal Norvak stated. "I upset the wrong officer and found myself on the wrong end of his pettiness."
"You've been in the Sky Riders for long?"
"Nearly ten years now, sir." Norvak smiled. "What about you, Captain? You don't look the type I'd expect to see here."
Toron did not reply. Rather, he looked about the rest of the group, all still standing to attention.
"All right, at ease," he declared, and immediately the group relaxed. He turned to the female Private. She was of somewhat shorter stature than the males here, and perhaps even smaller than most females Toron had met. And yet, somehow she had ended up in the Sky Riders.
"And you, Private? What's your name?"
"Leva Pelinos, sir." She offered the Captain a smile. "I saw you on the news, months ago. The 'Hero of Vargania'. Captain Toron Kavellan, isn't it?"
Toron nodded his head in confirmation. Few around here had missed those broadcasts, especially as they had been part of the beginning of the civil war that had now divided the Union.
"Have you been in the Sky Riders for long, Private Pelinos?"
"Nearly a year now, sir."
"And your former commanding officer, what was he like?"
"A loyalist scumbag," Corporal Norvak interjected. Toron turned to him, once more locking eyes with the stern and slightly older male Calsharan. "As soon as the war started, he packed his things and left. Took some of our own with him, other home-worlders such as yourself. Now there are about thirteen of us."
"That's more than enough to make a difference, Corporal," Toron countered. "What about the others? What about you?" He turned to the Private who had been reading from the data-pad. This one looked to be about the same age as Toron, with a similar build but with skin tinted a deep red.
"Private Jaron Korvka," the Private replied. "I'm a new transfer, sir."
"And you three?" He motioned to the mismatched trio who had been gambling. Each of them were new transfers as well. Volunteers, of course, but somehow Toron doubted that they had had much other choice than to volunteer for the Sky Riders.
"You volunteered, Corporal?" He shifted his attention to Corporal Norvak again. The older male nodded his head.
"Of course, sir."
"And you, Private Pelinos?" Now he turned to the female. She gave him an uncertain glance, eyes darting about a little sheepishly. Toron noticed Norvak and her exchange glances then, and the older male seemed to give her a nod. This was all the confirmation Toron needed to know that, regardless of rank here, Norvak was the 'leader' of this group. Any commanding officer would have to work with him, and it was critical that Toron bring Norvak onto his side. That did not strike Toron as easily done, and he suspected that of all the Sky Riders before him, Norvak would be the one to give him trouble.
"I've been here six months, sir," Pelinos said. She gave Toron a small, anxious smile. "I did volunteer, like everyone else."
"Except she did not have much of a choice, Captain," Norvak interjected. "It was either the Sky Riders or prison."
"What did you do?" Now Toron was curious, and he watched Pelinos expectantly. She seemed anxious to give an answer, but again Norvak gave her his silent consent to respond.
"I tried to kill a man, sir."
"What for?"
"He forced himself on my sister. He was also a prominent colonial official." She sounded uncomfortable, her voice wavering slightly. "The Sky Riders or prison, that was my offer."
"Did you succeed?"
"Succeed in what, sir?"
"In killing him?"
Private Pelinos appeared surprised by the question. Toron was simply curious, and he figured there was no better way to determine who he was dealing with regarding the young Private than through her answer to this question.
"No, sir. But he is short an eye."
Toron smirked. Sure, the girl had broken the law but there was something admirable to be found in her attempt at revenge. He did not ask for further details, they were irrelevant now. Instead, he let out a short chuckle, and he noticed some of the other Sky Riders here watch him with a mix of surprise and amusement.
"He was a loyalist, one of the Tornyan Governor's associates," Norvak explained. "And, like so many of the loyalists, he ran off back to the home world when the war started."
"And you're still here, Private?" Toron kept his attention on Pelinos, who seemed a little more relaxed now that she had gotten that small piece of personal information off of his chest.
"No one's offered me a spot anywhere else, sir," Pelinos answered.
"Good. Because we need everyone we can get." He turned to regard the squad as a whole. "We have three weeks to get ourselves ready for a dangerous mission. I need every one of you on your best."
This would have been news to the group as a whole. Looks were exchanged, even a few whispered remarks were made. Toron had no idea what to make of the squad; the new transfers were questionable, yet with that in mind he had to admit that he himself was a new transfer. He had a background being a combat pilot, but as a Sky Rider? That was something a little different. Some of the younger faces here looked fresh out of recruit training, and likely very much were.
"It's a dangerous mission, and you and second squad will be properly briefed on it tomorrow," Toron added. "In the meantime, I suggest you all smarten up. That is, make yourselves tidy and presentable. Don't gamble, don't drink and at least try to be soldiers." He did not speak harshly, and as he gave his instructions he walked by the Corporal and towards the table where the three Privates had been playing their card game. He bent down, picked up the dropped flask and took a sniff at the open top.
"My father used to drink this stuff," he said, and he picked up the fallen cap and screwed it back upon the flask. All eyes in the room were locked upon him. Norvak wore a frown, whereas the others seemed even a little amused. "It's foul, never got a taste for it myself." He tucked the flask into a pocket on his jacket. "I need this mess cleaned up. Let's make that the first official duty of the squad under its new command." He eyed the trio of Privates, making it clear that they should get started on cleaning up the spill. They moved quickly, scrambling for a towel or mop or anything that might soak up the rank liquor that was slowly seeping into the floorboards.
"Lieutenant Varsla," Toron announced, and the young Lieutenant sprang towards him.
"Sir?"
"Go ahead and check the officer's quarters. Something tells me they're in poor shape."
"Right away, sir." The Lieutenant strode on down the nearby hallway, headed for the officer's rooms at the far end of the building. As soon as he was gone, Norvak turned to Toron, once again wielding a look of grim displeasure.
"They gave you that for a second-in-command, sir?"
"He volunteered, Corporal," Toron said. "I think he deserves a chance to prove himself, what about you?"
"I think he has all the chance of getting us killed, sir." Norvak turned around to face Toron front-on. The Corporal was well-built, even more so than Toron was. This was a Corporal who had done nothing but soldiering for years, whereas even Toron would admit he had gone soft the past few months in his comfortable assignment on board the Lance of Might.
"With all due respect, sir, but I don't think your chances are much better," Norvak said. At least he was honest, and Toron could respect honesty. "You're a pilot, but that isn't the same as what we do."
"If our superiors did not deem me as a suitable candidate to take charge of this team, then they would not have accepted my request," Toron said. "My background and experience was deemed suitable enough for the Sky Riders."
"Have you ever operated a thruster pack in a zero gravity vacuum, sir?"
"No." Toron had to be honest himself, and he met Norvak's scrutinising gaze in turn. Privates Jaron and Pelino loitered nearby, watching the exchange closely. "But I can learn, and I can learn fast if I must. I am no infantryman, yet I fought on the ground at Vargania and came out victorious."
"That isn't the same, sir."
"It's combat, Corporal, and it involves fighting and killing. And dying, if you drop your guard or prove unlucky. When you boil it down, it's all the same, the same fight for survival. When was the last time you saw a fight?"
Norvak had no doubt anticipated this question. He narrowed his eyes, his tone level as he answered:
"Six months ago, over on B3R-X2." The designation was a computer-assigned one, and in this case 'B3R-X2' referred to an outpost world with little enough importance that no one had bothered to give it an official name. "Not long after this war started."
"And that was the last time the Sky Riders saw action?"
"That it was, sir."
Toron nodded his head. He could not argue with that, and he made a mental note to read up on the battle.
"So, you know what I mean, then. Be it in vacuum or on the ground, it's the same kind of thing. And that's where we're going to leave the matter, Corporal. I don't want any of this arguing over who's more of a soldier. We're all on the same side here, and we need to work together. None of this posturing."
Norvak did not reply. After a moment, he gave the Captain a small nod but little else. He wanted to say more, Toron could see this.
"May I go, sir?" Norvak asked, having figured to drop the topic as directed.
"Of course, Corporal." Toron had forgotten what it was like to be a squad leader, for he had spent much of the past several months directing reports and orders. He had been little more than a middleman on the Lance of Might. He had forgotten how troublesome being a squad leader could be.
Norvak headed on out of the barracks, presumably for some time alone. Private Pelinos followed him, and he could hear their hushed tones for a moment as they headed outside together. Toron could only wonder how long it would be before he and the Corporal truly came to blows.