Icarus

The ship vibrated as it began to climb. Bolts rattled, shrugging off their rust, and metal groaned as the sleeping goliath began to wake, and the cruiser prepared to punch through the atmosphere and into the vacuum of space. The air began to thin. The oxygen reserves struggled before, finally, kicking in. For a brief moment, Rico thought that the air had been stolen straight out of his lungs. But then the room flooded with oxygen - and he could finally relax.

The thrusters kicked on. As the cruiser punched forward gravity threw them back into the cheap leather of the cockpit seats. They, too, possessed the inescapable smell of oil. Shakk’s seat belt felt as if it was trying to burn itself through his armor and into his skin. Rico forced air through his teeth in what would have constituted a groan in a better gravity environment. His skin felt thin. Stretched across his skull like a cheap rubber mask. Shakk hated flying. It felt like fucking a new partner for the first time. Bursting through the atmosphere made him feel vulnerable. Naked. But at this point in his life, it wasn’t coupled with the thrill of a new lover. Space was space.

Unchanging. Unforgiving.

Soon everything was still. No sound. Silence. Light bore through the cockpit as the ship leveled out and settled into a middling cruising speed. It was unlike any light Rico or Jon had seen. The moons and all their splendor were this close. Lunar light glowed and the moons looked like polished bowls, fat crystal balls spinning indifferently in the vast inkwell of the universe. The cruiser picked up speed. The views outside the window began to streak as they passed by. Centrallica had a neon aura - whatever glow it had naturally had long been buried under smog and neon and filth. They passed it and it streaked a sickly green and pink as they tore past it.

“Centrallica even glows in heaven, huh?” Jon said. His voice was deadpan - even as he gazed out into the wild unknown of God’s strangest creation.

He hated Centrallica. But, it was still where he had grown. And this was his first journey off world. He felt small. Weak. He scraped his hand through his hair with a rough jerk and turned away from the window. Too much. It’s all too much. He felt his heart start to thud.

Ba dum, ba dum, ba dum.

It felt like the pistons of the engine. Also, like the bounce of the ship, as it hurtled through the unknown.

Ba dum, ba dum, ba dum -

There was nothing out there.

Just the big wide empty.

The Vaccum.

Void.

Jon closed his eyes and stared at the darkness behind the shutters of his eyelids. He could still feel the light pull of momentum - the physical reminder that he was soaring far away from the place he’d once called home. His stomach churned. His breath quickened.

Too much…. Too much!

The air felt… still. Artificial. It didn’t move like air did out in the world. Jon figured that the air of their ship must be the same air that comes in tuna cans and chip bags. Trapped. Docile. Then he felt it - and the black of his eyelids turned red. His skin felt warm. He opened his eyes and saw it - They were rounding Centrallica’s sun. He had never felt direct sun - only the people in the upper quarters knew what it looked like. All he’d known, until that very moment, was the rain.

It rained too much in Centrallica.

Jon reached his hand towards the sun.

“Ever worry about it? Crashing and burning? I mean, what if the Nav systems in this bitch go out?” Jon asked with a grin on his face.

“I think you might, but I don't plan on burning with you.”

“I don't think you have much of a choice,” Jon said. Shakk glared back - but didn’t say anything.

“Terminal - put us on course for The Fourlan system,” Rico said. He pushed his chair back and let out a sigh.

“Command Acknowledged,” The terminal responded.

The ship started coasting east. The ship’s wings unfolded - stretching out like a bird getting ready to fly. Cabin lights started blinking. Indicators going through the routine processes.

“Engaging jump drive.”

The engine raged - thrashing about as the booster output increased. It sounded like storm waves hitting concrete.

“Here we go,” said Rico. He reached over to check the terminal and dash. Red banners popped all over the cockpit - they looked like glaring, angry billboards. They spread like herpes. One console to the next all over the ship.

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“The fuck is going on Rico? Fix it!” Jon said.

“I’M TRYING!” Rico shouted back.

Shakk leaned over and read the warnings as they popped up and closed cyclically. One warning would vanish and another would arise. Rico’s fingers mashed on the terminal keyboard with reckless abandon. He typed - warnings disappeared. Warnings came back - the typing got more furious.

“They’re fighting”, Shakk thought to himself. It wasn’t much different than combat - there just weren’t any guns.

“TARGET SENSOR LOCK.” A bead of sweat ran down Shakk’s face. He sprinted towards the pilot’s seat and grabbed Rico. Rico yelped as Shakk grabbed him by the shoulders and threw him to the floor.

The ship rocked violently.

Storage cases fell from their shelves in the cargo hold - it sounded like small bombs going off under their feet. Beeping - warning signals. Never faltering.

“Rico - we’re being targeted. Get us into jump. I don't care where but we can’t stay here! Find me the main guns. Jon, make sure there isn’t any hull damage.”

Shakk barked orders. This wasn’t his first ship battle and it wouldn’t be his last. First thing was first - a response was necessary. Naval combat, whether at sea or in space, was like a conversation.

Nobody likes talking to a mute.

Jon took off down the atrium towards the engine room.

“The main guns are on the lower deck, below the bridge!” Rico shouted. Shakk pulled his vest tight.

“Rico, get me a ship ID - who are we dealing with?” Rico’s mind was racing.

His fingers hit every key imaginable on his terminal as he fought a war on two fronts quashing warning signals and running the ID. The ship began to shift sideways, pulling about in space like driftwood in an ocean. Four crafts crept into view. Rico wrenched the terminal free from its warning programs. He started tagging the ships so Shakk could see them on the gun display. Shakk dashed to the service ladder and began to descend. The holo display of the cabin kicked on. A voice crackled out from the shadows of space-time.

“Private vessel - power down and cease all operations. Turnover the mercenary Shakk of Vizslas to us. The vessel and its crew will remain unharmed. You have five minutes to respond and failure to do so will result in immediate termination.”

The line clicked dead.

Shakk stood at the bottom of the ladder. Jon had his hands on his hips, his eyes searching the walls for signs of damage. He had heard the conversation through the ducts. Jon grabbed his holo and dialed Rico.

“Patch me over the coms,” Jon said to Rico. The air began to heat. Then it began to hum as vapor shook the ship ducts. Rico silently said his prayers. Rico clicked the comms and patched in Jon’s holo. Shakk took his spot at the gun station and waited. Jon wiggled his eyebrows and grinned.

“Go to hell.”

Shakk stared at the speaker above in disbelief.

Then cracked a smile.

Shakk leaned back in the gunner's chair and racked the main gun. It was a long, lean beast of a cannon. It looked like an oversized rifle. He gripped both handles of it and fired. Rico saw the beam as it streaked through space and made contact with one of the enemy vessels.

Boom.

Rico threw the thrusters forward. The sound of mortar fire filled the atrium and Jon’s ears screamed for mercy. Shakk racked another shell and took aim again. The glass of his display shook each time he pulled the trigger. For the first time since he got to Centrallica, he felt good.

He felt at home.

In the shit. The thick of it. The goosebumps made him smile to himself. Jon pushed further into the bowels of the ship until he reached the very bottom of the cargo hold. There was a small breach, about the size of a hoverbike. Jon let out a small sigh and hit the emergency shutter switch. The gates came down over the breach, sealing it. Jon caught his own reflection in the chrome of the ship's metal. There was a layer of soot and dust caked on his skin. In the main cabin, Rico grabbed the flight controls.

“Terminal, get us out of here. Whatever star system is closest to us should work.” “Acknowledged.”

The terminal responded as it began clicking over to star maps. The algorithm danced on the screen. It was now or never. Rico launched the throttle forward.

“HOLD ON!” Rico screamed.

Space began to distort as the slip space drive engaged The fabric of time growing thinner and thinner. Shakk buckled himself into his harness in the gun chamber.

“Jumping to faster than light,” the terminal announced.

The crew stared out the window as distant stars disappeared. The sun slowly faded as they rounded it.

“I wonder if this is the view Icarus had before he burned,” Jon mumbled to himself. Explosions sounded off as the engine caught fire.

“Pull us out Rico, the ship is going to come apart!” Shakk screamed over the comms.

Rico yanked back on the throttle. The inertia threw them off the flight path. The cabin lights pulled in and sirens rang out in the cabin.

“Abandon ship protocol in effect,” the terminal warned.

“What do we do?” Rico asked shakily.

“The fuck are you standing around for? Get to the fucking pods,” Shakk said through his holo as he climbed the ladder.

Rico grabbed his bag and terminal, Jon grabbed a bag full of rations, and Shakk grabbed an extra ammo kit and rations as he ran by the med bay. Shakk hit the pods, pulling the lever down as the door lifted open. Smoke filled the room as the pod released. It smelled like old leather and hot air. Shakk dove into the pod. He could see the bright red flame of the engine through the window, as it combusted in on itself over and over again. Jon pulled the lever down to his pod. Rico arrived shortly after trying to pull down his lever. Rico jumped in the pilot's seat. Hitting the eject button, the pods fell from the ship as it exploded.

Boom.

The fuel lines were visible - the aurora of bright red flames filled the galaxy. The men kept watching from their pod's windows as their plan A went up in flames. Some stray debris collided with Shakk’s pod. He pulled hard on the flight controls to try to correct his flight path but to no avail. He looked out the window and made eye contact with Rico as his pod drifted further away from theirs. Deeper and deeper into dark space.

Shakk watched their pod fall into the orbit of a giant planet. It looked like a colossal green marble. Shakk cut power to all systems that didn’t support critical life support functions. He leaned back in the pilot's chair. Once again, there was darkness. He could finally clear his mind.

He felt his pod sinking. He didn’t understand - he was in deep space. There was no up and down. The pod was being pulled downwards towards something.

“It is what it is,” he thought. He closed his eyes.

He could smell burning. Even through the thick rubber of his combat boots, he could feel the pod’s metal starting to heat. Memories flashed through his mind. Childhood. Lovers. Good times. Bad.

Mostly bad..

Now he knew for sure he was being burned. There was no tale of Icarus - he was Icarus himself. The pod slammed against solid ground. His brain snapped off like a television screen. No static to be heard, just the sound of waves