1. Dust and Rust

Morgan West’s footsteps echoed down the empty halls of SKV’s headquarters as he walked from the hanger. Lights flickered causing shadows to dance on the floor and walls. Most of SKV’s pilots were on deep cover operations and unable to make contact, if they were still alive to do so. The maintenance teams had been dismissed until further notice and the base had fallen into a state of disrepair. Running on minimal power, the station had primary systems operating, however the fact that Morgan could see his breath was a testament that even those had been turned down. It had been awhile since Morgan himself had been here and wondered if it had really been so long since this place was buzzing with activity.

He turned right stood at the briefing room door and announced to the voice lock, “Morgan West, call sign Hawk, ID 0914, requesting permission to enter.” What would normally follow would be a soft beep and the doors would part however there was no response.

A voice came from inside, “Just push it open.”

Morgan noticed that the doors were not completely sealed leaving enough room to slip his fingers in-between and slide the doors open. The circular briefing room was cold and dark like the rest of the HQ. The only illumination provided was the blue glow cast from the main holographic computer in the center of the room. The slender silhouette of Lieutenant Ghost could be seen standing over the readout.

“I have it set on manual override,” Ghost said half-heartedly.

A pilot of the finest caliber, Lieutenant Ghost had trained many Itani fighters including Morgan. His exploits had become legendary and his name renowned. Morgan recalled com chatter before going into large furballs in gray. Many times an Itani pilot could be heard saying, “If only Ghost were here.” Even some Serco com chatter would be hushed when Ghost jumped into the sector. He had become just what his call sign was, a ghost, a phantom, someone who could not be killed. Just having this one man on your wing could tip the favor of a battle. However, Ghost never really saw it that way. He would shout commands over the com listing targets to attack while watching his wing mates, warning them of incoming fire. Had he been in the regular Itani Navy he would be a Captain or Admiral by now in command of his own Teradon or carrier. SKV was where he chose to stay and fly with some of the best pilots to ever grace the stars.

“Just returning from gray space, little to no Serco activity to report sir. Tending the lighthouse I see?”

“Yeah, the border’s quiet, like everything else around here.”

Morgan walked up to the holograph looking at the star charts and information scrolling by on various Itani convoys. “Looks like our sensor buoys are still working.”

Ghost sighed, “For the moment.”

“Any word on the rest of the squadron?” Morgan asked without much hope of good news.

“No, still no contact with any of them.” Ghost said with a grim look on his face.

“How long has it been since last contact with Bojan?”

“Too long.”

Bojan, the commander of SKV had personally gone out to gray space on a deep cover mission some time ago saying the mission was far too important to hand off. The mission he undertook was to uncover more information on some mysterious reports of strange Serco activity in the Edras system. The last report had enclosed information about meeting a contact somewhere in gray. This contact had agreed to trade a flight recorder recovered from a derelict Itani convoy escort fighter for a rather generous sum of credits. Bojan had agreed to the price in exchange for the recorder and the strictest of secrecy. It was not said what the flight recorder contained, only that it should be kept top secret.

Morgan crossed his arms, “So, what’s our next move?”

“We go to Odia and try to find Bojan’s contact. See if he can tell us anything about Bojan’s whereabouts.” Ghost turned and faced Morgan. “But first, when’s the last time you’ve been in a fight?”

“I’ve had some one on one’s in Sedina.”

“No, I mean hand to hand. How long has it been for you?”

“A while, last time was that little scuffle in the hanger at Bractus Watch when we were running cargo escort to Divinia.”

“I see, then it has been some time for you.”

Morgan uncrossed his arms, “What are you getting at here?”

“I don’t know what were going to run into out there so I think we should both be sharp in all aspects of combat. Come with me, I have power turned on in the sparing room.”
Great. Morgan thought to himself as they walked out of the briefing room and down the hall. The one place that has power is the room where I’m about to get my ass kicked. Morgan West had always been a fine pilot and a generally well-rounded fighter but when facing Ghost, victories were always few and far between. However, losses can be just as valuable as victories if you take some knowledge away from them. Morgan just didn’t feel like landing on his back repeatedly today.
Ghost opened the doors to the sparing chamber revealing a warm, well-lit, large, square room. The room was designed and decorated much like the ancient Chinese culture of old earth. Stepping into this room was much like going back thousands of years to a time and place long forgot. Morgan’s echoing boot steps were exchanged for the dull thud of hard wood. Along the walls were all manner of hand-to-hand weapons, targets, and sparing dummies.
“Go ahead and get changed,” Ghost said with a smile as he walked to one of the other changing rooms. “Let’s see how much rust we need to knock off.”

Nice mental images. I liked it.

2. The Duel

The smooth, dark wood was warm under Morgan’s feet as he walked to the mat. He fastened the five white frog buttons up to his neck on his dark blue Kung Fu uniform and began to go through a stretch routine. Ghost entered from the opposite side dressed in his white uniform of similar style with silver trim. Ghost entered a trance like state as he went through his exercises, bending and moving slowly. Morgan dropped to the mat and went through some quick leg stretches followed by a swift kick back up to he feet. He stared at his mentor and opponent studying his motions. Ghost opened his ice blue eyes and locked Morgan’s stare from across the mat. They both walked to opposite black lines about 6 meters apart.

“Ready?” Ghost asked in a low calm voice. Morgan responded with a slow nod and raised his arms to an attack posture while dropping his right leg back, leaving his left at the line. Ghost extended his left arm toward Morgan with an open palm up. “Begin.”

Immediately after the word left Ghost’s lips Morgan unleashed a fury of lighting fast blows followed by roundhouse kicks. A normal man would have had a hard time tracking Morgan’s rapid volley of fists and feet, which to the untrained eye looked like a blur of motion. This was the trademark of an expert in the Itani martial arts. Ghost gave ground but had no trouble blocking the blows away. Ghost then countered moving in on Morgan with blistering speed yet in total control of his strikes. Morgan wheeled and again he was the aggressor delivering rapid attacks.

The fight went back and forth across the sparing mat for about 15 minuets with no hits being scored by either duelist. Morgan let loose a powerful backhand strike that he was sure would land a hit, however, Ghost met the attack with his wrist. The two fighters paused for a moment locked wrist to wrist. Ghost lowered his head ever so slightly and started in with a potent offensive. Ghost fired rapid strikes that even the finest fighter would have great difficulty in defending. Morgan backpedaled, giving up ground to his advancing opponent. It took every bit of strength and control that Morgan had to fend off the blistering fast attack. After blocking a salvo of punches Morgan saw a sidekick coming in for his ribs. He dropped low and made a successful block but Morgan could tell he already lost this round by the rush of wind that blew his hair back. Looking up Morgan saw Ghost’s fist stopped only centimeters from his forehead.

“Very good,” Ghost said in a calm voice.

“Nice to see you didn’t follow through with that punch,” Morgan said sarcastically knowing full well had that strike landed it would have likely ended him.

Ghost cracked a small smile, “The problem is not your form or technique. You’re over thinking the situation. When entering a fight you’ve gotta be calm. Only with your mind clear can you see all the options of attack and defense. You’ll be able to feel your opponents attack before he moves to attack you.” Ghost extended his hand to Morgan and pulled him back to his feet. “I want to show you something.”

Morgan followed Ghost back to the black starting lines in the center of the center of the mat. Morgan prepared for another intense battle but stopped in confusion when he saw Ghost standing with his arms at his side and his back to him.

“This is something I’ve been working on for some time now,” Ghost said in a distant voice almost as if he was sleep talking. “Attack me with your strongest blow and don’t hold back.”

“What?!”

Ghost repeated, “I want you to land a killing blow. Trust me, I’ll be fine.”

“No, I…”

Ghost cut him off and with no inflection in his voice said, “Just trust me. Attack.”

Morgan reluctantly returned to his attack stance studying his mentor. He was just standing there behind the black line with his back turned making no attempt to stop Morgan’s killing blow. Ghost was fast, but he would not be able to defend against such a powerful attack with his back turned.

Morgan sighted his target, Ghost’s spinal cord just above the small of his back, and took three steps back from his line. He paused again trying to see what Ghost was going to do but, without seeing what attack Morgan was about to do, he had no chance of survival. Morgan then did as he was asked and launched into the air with a powerful jump kick. He was on target and although he was moving through the air at speeds that would have made him a blur to an onlooker, to Morgan it seemed like an eternity until he reached his destination.

Morgan anticipated the feeling of bone being shattered as he reached his target, but instead of smashing through Ghost’s spine a blinding blue flash filled the room. Morgan was propelled backward with a greater amount of force then what he had used in his initial attack! He landed on the edge of the mat, slid across the wood floor and came to an abrupt stop at the wall. Morgan lifted his head up in a daze, not quite sure of what had just happened. Ghost was still standing with his back to Morgan but something was different. A translucent, blue, oval bubble surrounded his form, pulsing and rippling like a smooth body of water that just had a stone cast into it. It was only visible for a moment then faded from sight.

“You’ve learned how to use shield meditation!”

“Not completely,” Ghost said, slowly slumping forward. “At first I could only form the force field around small objects. Now I’m to the point where I can protect a human form.” Ghost turned toward Morgan but with his first step he dropped to his knee. “However,” Ghost paused to take a series of deep breaths, “The meditation is very draining for a beginner, as you can see.”

Morgan staggered to his feet and grunted, “I’d say it’s fairly draining to the attacker as well.”

“Sorry about that,” Ghost said as Morgan gave him a hand up, “It appears that kinetic force is reflected with a great deal of power. I’ve only tested the reaction to energy weapons like neutron blasts which are simply absorbed.”

“Well, glad I could be you’re test pilot for that,” Morgan said as he tilted from side to side favoring his aching back. “I assume we are done now?”

“Yes, get some rest,” Ghost said as they walked out of the sparing chamber. “Tomorrow we leave for gray.”

3. In The Shadow of Malice

Edras is an unclaimed binary star system that at one point was shared by both UIT and Itani governments. Like other binary star systems, Edras has spikes of gravity generated from the two stars pulling on each other that distort scanners and make navigation more difficult. Although the system has been somewhat explored, there have been rumors about hidden wormholes that are possibly in use by the Akanese extremists. The sudden sighting of these strange ships only gives rise to these rumors.

Morgan toggled the com on his x-1 Valkyrie prototype fighter. “Final jump point reached at Edras Command.”

Ghost pulled his white x-1 fighter along side Morgan’s and replied, “Copy that. There’s a used Trident light frigate, which I have... ‘obtained’ that we’ll be using as our base in gray.”

The area around Edras command was busy for this part of space. Behemoths and mineral Marauders waited in lines to dock and unload their cargo of raw ore. The x-1's maneuvered through the moored ships and rounded the far side of the station where a rather lackluster Trident was waiting. The frigate’s hull was littered with dents and pockmarks from small debris strikes common with heavy mining use. The port engine unit was missing some panels exposing the inner workings of the thruster and the nose section looked as if it had suffered a rather hard head on collision with a large object.

Morgan toggled his com, “Great, they’ll never see us coming in this.”

Ghost replied, “That’s the idea.”

A hail from the light frigate crackled through the group com, “Everything is as you requested buyer, strict secrecy has been kept regarding the sale. We are just awaiting the credit transfer.”

Ghost replied, “Roger, it's coming to you now.”

Shortly after Ghost sent the funds an EC class ship launched from the rear underside hanger. “She's all yours, Mr...?”

Ghost cut the com without responding then swung his fighter around behind the Trident and lining up with the docking bay. Morgan followed on his wing.

“Albatross.”

Ghost replied, “What?”

Morgan turned on his forward floodlights illuminating the rear of the ship. A thick layer of brown space dust covered the entire ship, however raised letters could be made out running along the aft section just above the hanger.

“The ship’s name is The Albatross,” Morgan clarified.

The pilots extended their landing gear and set down inside the hanger. The Tunguska variant of the Trident had a much larger cargo bay and landing area than standard models to accommodate inherently larger mining craft and transport ships. Like the exterior of the ship, the hanger bay showed signs of heavy use.

Morgan popped his canopy open and warm, moist air rushed into the small cockpit of his x-1. 'That's different,' Morgan thought. Instead of the cool, dry, recycled air on most ships, mining ships heavily humidify the air in order to keep the dust down that was generated from handling raw ore. He then hopped out of his cockpit and onto the flight deck but instead of the clunk of his boots meeting the Xi-rite floor it sounded more like a thud. The humidifying process had done its job causing the dust to solidify into a layer of gritty mud that covered the hanger bay floor.

“Well, you sure can pick em Ghost,” Morgan said as he surveyed the hanger. “Never figured you for a miner though.”

“Neither will anyone else,” Ghost said as he jumped onto the dirt covered flight deck. “This Trident may not look like much but it's still a Tunguska variant which means we have a lot of extra armor plating and stronger thrusters.”

Morgan and Ghost walked across the mud-covered flight deck and exited into a small room that looked like a strange air lock chamber with a closed door in front of them. There were small nozzles lining the ceiling and walls in rows with a large grate under their feet. On the right wall was a large, palm sized button that looked like it was red at one point in time, but most of the color had worn off from heavy use. Morgan inspected the button and noticed that just above the device were the raised letters 'S.H.O.W.E.R.'

“We're in a shower?”

“Well kinda, it's a Super High Output Wind Environment Regulator, or 'Shower'. When the button is pressed a large burst of air knocks all the raw ore off the deck hands and through the grate below us, adding it to the main load and keeping the interior of the ship clean.”

A confused look crept across Morgan’s face. “How do you know all-” He turned to look at Ghost. He was busy tapping away on his data pad. He tipped it up to reveal a newly downloaded manual on Trident light frigates, Tunguska class. “Right.”

Morgan flipped the small toggle switch on the access pad next to the door in front of them causing it to slide open revealing a long hall with pipes running the length of it. There were doors on the left, right and one thick blast door at the end of the hall. The smaller doors were crew quarters or storage rooms. Behind the blast door was the cargo hold. There was also a thin ladder next to the blast doors running up to a hatch that lead to the forward turret. On the immediate right were two steep staircases, one of which lead down to the lower deck were the engine room and underside gun turrets were. The two pilots climbed the other which took them to the top deck where the bridge and top aft turret were located.

Morgan and Ghost walked through a large trapezoidal door and entered the bridge, which was located near the aft of the ship just above the rearward-facing hanger. The bridge was a rectangle shape with a long window running the length giving a nice wide view of the body and bow of the ship. There were three control stations with the front two being slightly lower then the rear center one. The left station was a chair bolted to the floor surrounded by half oval console with 3 screens meant for gunnery control and navigation course plotting. The right station had a similar setup with a pilot yoke in the center and pedals on the floor devoted to flight. The center rear station, setup like the other two, seemed to be the captains console.

Morgan seated himself at the pilot console and began running a pre-flight check list, flipping switches and dialing knobs. “Energy levels coming up, maneuvering thrusters, check, artificial gravity generators are functioning normally, main thrusters are coming online.” The ship began to hum with electric life.

Ghost sat at the navigation and gunnery station and plotted a course to the Odia system, home to the lawless and ungoverned. “Take us out to jumping distance.”

Morgan grabbed the yoke and swung the bow away from the station, “Not bad maneuvering ability for a ship this size.” Morgan dialed up the power to the thrusters. “We are now at full ahead and on course,” then he flipped up a yellow and black striped cover over a switch, “Engaging turbo.” Upon flipping the switch the two twin main thrusters roared to life sending the ship lurching forward. After a few moments Morgan reported, “We are at jump distance.”

Ghost replied, “Jumping now.”

The Trident plunged into the wormhole Ghost had opened and only a moment later, exited in Edras sector H-15.

“Jump complete, checking for-,” Ghost stopped in mid sentence and sat forward in his chair. “Strange, I had a contact on the scanners as soon as we jumped in but it's gone now.”

“A ship jumping?” Morgan suggested

“No, we would have seen a jump signature, the target was right on top of us. One moment it was there and now it's not.”

“Detecting any jamming?”

“None, scanners are fully functional,” Ghost paused for a moment looking out the forward window at the collage stars and sharp chunks of ice, “Keep heading to the Pelatus worm hole, we can't stay here for long.”

“Getting a little jumpy Ghost?” Morgan asked with a chuckle.

“Maybe, I just... I could’ve sworn I saw something.”

“Relax, we'll be in Odia soon enough, then we'll have real problems to worry about.”

Ghost slumped back into his chair and made preparations for the crossing to the Pelatus system. He stopped again looking out the forward window seeing only empty space and stars.

The Trident once again slipped into the blue glow of the wormhole and vanished from the Edras system. No sooner then the wormhole dissipated, a small craft milted out from the black of space. Inside a lone pilot toggled his com.

“Targets sighted, they are on their way.”

“Roger that Black Dragon one, mission successful. Return to base.”

“Complying.”

The fighter turned and as quickly as it had appeared, vanished back into the cold blackness of space.

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