Prudhoe, Part 1

“...all pilots to their ships...Bounty Hunters...five minutes out...”

Jordan Hartfield slowly rolled over in his bed, groaning as the overhead lights in his quarters turned on, blinding him. For a moment he lay still with his eyes closed, trying to make sense of the intercom message that he had just heard in his semi-conscious state. Some kind of alert about incoming Bounty Hunters...

His eyes snapped open as he realized what the message had been. He jumped out of bed and ran to throw on his flight suit. His roommate, Matthew Anderson, was doing the same. Both of them knew that there was little chance that they would be needed in the upcoming battle; after all, they were still in training, and the other Rogues at Alcatraz were more than capable of destroying a Bounty Hunter patrol. Still, Jordan and Matthew both lived by the saying “be prepared”, and so, in accordance with this motto, they ensured that they were fully dressed for combat before leaving their room in search of their training officer, Captain Bromison.

As Jordan and Matthew ran through the corridors of the training barracks, they were joined by many of their peers from the Rogue flight training program. However, none of the other trainees had prepared for combat, and many of them were complaining about the sleep that they were losing because of “this stupid alert”, as one recruit put it. Jordan shook his head at this. “It’s as if they don’t care about getting combat experience or even graduating from training and becoming a full-fledged Rogue,” he murmured to Matthew as they ran into the docking bay.

“Yeah, well, you can’t really blame them,” replied Matthew as they slowed to a walk, searching for Bromison. “After all, it is early, and besides...do you really care that much about being an official Liberty Rogue? I mean, we are a, uh...minor crime group.”

Jordan glanced at Matthew, shocked that he would say such things. “Of course I want to be a Rogue. We aren’t a minor crime group; on the contrary, we’re freedom fighters striving to end Liberty’s mistreatment of the lower class. Are you saying that you aren’t interested in that?” he replied in an accusatory tone.

Matthew gave Jordan an amused glance for a moment, and then looked away with a slight smile on his face, searching for the captain. Jordan also looked away, a bit miffed that his roommate had such treasonous feelings. He wanted to confront him about his words, but then he realized that Matthew was probably just surly from lack of sleep and looking for an excuse to complain.

Jordan quickly forgot about their argument when he spotted Bromison. “Captain!” he exclaimed as he fought his way through the crowds of people in the docking bay. Matthew, hearing Jordan’s yell, followed close behind. “Trainee Anderson and I are prepared to assist in the defense of the base if we are needed.”

On any other day, Captain Bromison would have laughed at Jordan’s enthusiasm, and then sent him and Matthew back to their quarters to get some sleep. Today, however, the Rogues needed every pilot they could get, and so he merely nodded and outlined the situation for them. “There are about fifteen Bounty Hunters out there, all of them good pilots. They’ve already taken out six or seven of our men, so be careful. Whatever happens, if you see any fleeing, destroy them. If any of them escape, they might tell other people the location of the base, and if that happens...well, just make sure none of them get away.”

Jordan felt a surge of adrenaline shoot through him as he raced to his ship. Today was the day that he would finally show everyone that he was a capable pilot, ready to officially join the ranks of the Liberty Rogues. He couldn’t wait to lift off and blast every Bounty Hunter that got in his way...

His excitement ebbed as he reached his fighter. He had momentarily forgotten that he would be flying the 20-year-old Bloodhound that he had been given at the start of his training. It had been in bad shape when they gave it to him; now, after becoming even more damaged from several mishaps during his training, it was a hunk of junk that was just waiting to fall apart. It bothered Jordan that at any moment a major ship system could fail, destroying the ship and him with it; however, he lacked the money to repair it, and so was forced to live with the knowledge that he could die at any moment during a flight. His fellow recruits had not been helpful in reassuring him; instead, they had only made things worse, mocking him with false cheers whenever he took off, as if it was a major accomplishment that he could get off the ground. Some had even gone so far as to make bets on how many more flights the ship would survive, with the general consensus being four.

As long as it survives one more, Jordan thought as he powered up the ship. He performed a quick system check, ensuring that everything was in order, and then he blasted (or rather, limped) out of the docking bay right behind Matthew, who was also flying a training Bloodhound, albeit one in much better condition.

As Jordan cleared the docking bay, he surveyed his surroundings. There were still eleven Bounty Hunters, and they showed no signs of giving up. In the few seconds that Jordan had been flying, three Rogue ships had been destroyed, and another was extremely damaged, its hull leaking smoke and flame. As Jordan swung his ship into position behind the Bounty Hunter chasing the damaged ship, he noticed with shock that it was Captain Bromison’s. This is serious, thought Jordan worriedly. If an experienced pilot like Captain Bromison has almost been destroyed, then what’s to stop the Bounty Hunters from shooting down a rookie pilot like me?

This thought occupied Jordan’s mind for a moment, until his reverie was broken by a short message over his communications: “What are you doing, Hartfield? Shoot that b*stard down or I will personally ensure that you are executed in the most painful fashion possible!” roared Captain Bromison into Jordan’s ear.

Shaken from his daze, Jordan forced himself to concentrate on the task at hand. He fired off a few quick bursts from his Azrael laser cannons, but was dismayed to see the beams shoot off in several directions without hitting the Bounty Hunter. Damn, she can’t even shoot straight, he thought, lamenting his misfortune to fly such an awful ship. Still, he knew that he had to keep trying to protect his captain, and so he doggedly forced himself to stay behind the Bounty Hunter, ignoring the shudders that flowed through the ship every time he increased his speed or turned.

Finally, the Bounty Hunter made a mistake and stopped flying evasively. “Gotcha!” Jordan yelled, squeezing down the trigger.

Jordan was blinded by the brightness of the explosion in front of his ship. At first he was thrilled that he had gotten his first kill and been able to protect his captain. Once his eyes cleared, however, he became confused: not only was the Bounty Hunter still flying in front of him, but Captain Bromison seemed to have disappeared...

“Nice shot, squirt,” said a woman in a sarcastic voice over the intercom. “Way to go, killing your comrade like that. Seriously, I really appreciated it. I’ll keep you in mind the next time the Bounty Hunters need help.”

Laughing to herself, the woman who Jordan assumed was the Bounty Hunter cut the communication and flew off.

For a few seconds, Jordan sat numbly at the helm of his ship. He had killed, not just a Rogue, but his own superior. It was an accident, he told himself. Not my fault...I wanted to hit the Bounty Hunter, my guns just happened to malfunction...nothing I could have done. Even after reassuring himself that he was not to blame, Jordan still felt the guilt churning in his stomach.

Only one thing to do, he decided. Got to get back at the Bounty Hunters...take out as many as possible, help defend the base, just like the captain would have wanted me to.

With this decision, Jordan turned his ship around, and headed back into the battle, this time thinking, not of promotion, but of revenge.

Edited by - njhockeyboy on 5/8/2005 1:35:44 AM

cool i wana hear more.

_____________________________
Monky see, Monky Shoot

Edited by - =-EAGLE_1-= on 5/8/2005 8:46:48 AM

man when the chapeter ended i was only a inch and a half away from my nose touching the screen lol this is a awsome story


No Guts
---------------
No Glory

Glad you guys like it! I hope to have the next part out by the end of the week, but no guarantees, I'm a pretty slow writer.

Thanks for the comments.

Woot. Good work

Keep on writing! You really know how to get people hooked! Great story!

"If at first you don't succeed, then destroy all evidence that you tried"
"If at first you do succeed, then don't look to surprised"

Prudhoe, Part 2

“Somebody get this guy off me...shields are down, taking hull damage...oh sh—”

Jordan shivered as he listened to the cries of a comrade and the accompanying crackling of static over his radio. It was the fourth time in less than a minute that he had heard those horrific sounds. The Rogues were being massacred: less than twenty of them remained, and even though they still had far more men than their foes, the Bounty Hunters’ superior ships, guns, and piloting skills would soon put the Rogues on the losing side of the battle. Jordan had no idea whether or not Matthew was still alive. All he knew was that Rogues were dying, and it was his fault.

If I hadn’t lost focus and drifted away from the battle, I might have been able to save all of those pilots, thought Jordan regretfully. More deaths that are my fault...just like Captain Bromison...of course, he’s dead now...I killed him...my fault...I’m a murderer...

Jordan shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. If I keep blaming myself, I won’t be able to focus enough to kill the Hunters, and I won’t be able to avenge the captain...who I killed...he was my teacher, and I murdered him...my fault...

“Focus!” Jordan shouted to himself, smacking the control panel in frustration. While this was certainly not good for his ship, the pain in his hand was more than enough to take his mind off of Bromison, bringing him back into reality and allowing him to concentrate on the battle.

As Jordan gradually regained control of his thoughts, he noticed that his shields were losing power. A quick glance in his rear camera confirmed his suspicions: he was under attack! “I need some help here!” he said into the intercom as he took his ship into a tight turn, trying to lose his pursuer.

Jordan’s ship shook as laser beams from the Bounty Hunter broke through its shield and began eating away at the armor. I could die here, he realized for the first time. This could be the end for me...I’m going to die...no one will remember anything about me...I’ll just be...dead...

Jordan swallowed hard, trying to stop himself from vomiting in fear. His eyes watered, blurring his view. As he broke into a cold sweat, he could feel himself slipping into an anxiety-induced unconsciousness...

“You owe me one, Jordan,” muttered Matthew over the radio as he fired a stream of laser fire at Jordan’s pursuer.

Matthew’s words were like a ray of sunshine on a foggy day: they pierced the layers of fear in Jordan’s mind and reinvigorated him. As the Bounty Hunter exploded, Jordan could feel his anxiety waning, leaving in its place the desire for vengeance. His bloodlust rising, he increased the power to his engines and shot back towards the heart of the battle. This is it, he thought grimly. Time to make these Hunters pay for coming here...they think th—

“Rogues, this is Base Commander Lawrence. My ship is severely damaged, and I have two Bounty Hunters on my tail. Can somebody take them?”

Perfect, Jordan thought eagerly. A chance to make up for killing Captain Bromison...if I can save the commander, I won’t have to feel guilty for my past failures.

As he spotted the commander’s Wolfhound struggling to evade fire from the two Bounty Hunters, he said aloud, “This is Trainee Anderson. Moving into position behind the Hunters.”

While Jordan was lining up his shot, he noticed that Matthew had pulled up alongside him and was doing the same. “Can’t let you have all the glory, now can I?” said Matthew with a laugh in his voice.

Jordan just smiled, happy to know that he would have a friend to back him up. He aimed for the leftmost Bounty Hunter, keeping in mind that his guns wouldn’t shoot straight. Please don’t let me hit the commander, he prayed as he pressed down the trigger.

The laser beams scattered as they had earlier, missing the target, but luckily, rather than hitting Commander Lawrence, they hit the other Bounty Hunter. At the same time, Matthew fired. The blasts disabled the Hunter’s controls, so when the commander turned, the Hunter was unable to follow. It continued in a straight line until it crashed into an ice asteroid.

The other Bounty Hunter was still chasing the commander, but a few shots from Jordan followed by a blast from Matthew destroyed it. “Yeah!” shouted Jordan with excitement.

“Nice shooting, recruits. Keep up the good work,” said Commander Lawrence.

The Bounty Hunters now found themselves losing men rapidly. While Jordan and Matthew had been destroying the ships chasing the commander, the rest of the Rogues had gained the upper hand, eliminating most of their enemies. Soon only one Hunter was left. It activated its cruise engines and fled deeper into the field.

“Gold Wing, chase that Bounty Hunter. Make sure it doesn’t escape. Everyone else, dock with Alcatraz,” said the commander wearily.

As Jordan docked his ship, he couldn’t help but feel proud of himself. Only fourteen Rogues had survived the battle, and he, a novice pilot, had been one of them. Not only that, but he had assisted in the destruction of two enemy fighters while protecting his base commander. Of course, I also killed one of my own people...

Jordan pushed that thought aside. It’s time for me to forget about it, he decided. From now on, I won’t think about it or even talk about it with anyone. It’ll be like it never happened.

Once all of the Rogues had landed, Commander Lawrence took a roll call to see who had been lost. When Captain Bromison was called, Jordan stiffened and his face turned bright-red, but he said nothing. What is there to say?, he wondered, trying to maintain his self-delusion. There’s nothing I can say that would be helpful. The commander doesn’t need to know how Bromison died.

As soon as he finished the roll call, Commander Lawrence thanked the surviving men. “I can’t tell you how proud I am of you all. We fought a tough battle today. No other Rogue base has ever faced an enemy with as many ships or as much power as the Bounty Hunters had, but we still won. You should all be very pleased with yourselves.”

“You will be happy to know that we have transmitted news of the attack to all other Rogue bases, and they have agreed to send supplies soon. We will also get reinforcements from Montezuma in a couple of days, but until then, you are all that we have in the way of protection. Now, I realize that your ships are in pretty sorry shape, so 15000 credits have been transferred to each of your accounts to help pay for repairs.”

There was much whispering amongst the Rogues at this. “15000 credits? With that much money, I could ditch that piece-of-sh*t Bloodhound, buy a new ship, and leave this dump-of-a-base forever,” murmured Matthew excitedly.

Jordan gave his friend a hard look. Is he seriously thinking about abandoning his home during its time of need, simply for his own personal gain?, Jordan thought with disgust. He considered challenging Matthew’s devotion to the Liberty Rogue cause, but the commander was continuing his speech, so he resolved to bring it up later.

“For the time being, I doubt that the Bounty Hunters or anyone else will be back. The asteroids’ damaging effect on long-range ship-based communications prevented the Hunters from alerting the authorities of our presence here. The Hunter that escaped is being pursued by Gold Wing, so as long as they prevent it from radioing ahead, we will remain undetected. Therefore, I recommend that, after repairing your ships, you all continue about your business as usual, keeping in mind that you may be required to defend the base in the event that we are attacked.”

“Once again, I’d like to congratulate and thank you all. Now get some rest; you deserve it.”

With that, Commander Lawrence dismissed the men. Before Jordan and Matthew could leave, however, the commander approached them. “Are you the two that took out those Bounty Hunters on my tail?” he asked.

They nodded, glad that he realized who his saviors were. “Well, I really appreciate it. My ship probably would have been destroyed in a few more seconds if you hadn’t taken them out. So, in return for saving my life, I thought I’d help you guys out a bit. As of now, you have both graduated from training. A memo recognizing your graduation and the help you gave me has been sent to all other Rogue bases.”

“In addition,” Commander Lawrence said, nodding at Matthew, “news of your graduation will be sent to your mother on Padua in Galileo. She will certainly be proud, as would your father, if he was alive.” Then, looking at Jordan, he said, “I’m sure that your parents would also be proud if they were alive.” A somber silence followed this statement.

After a moment, the commander continued. “Congratulations to both of you. You are now official Liberty Rogues, so I’m counting on you to help us if the base is ever attacked as it was today. I’m sure that Captain Bromison, if he was still alive, would feel the same way, and would wholeheartedly support your graduation.”

At these words, Jordan looked away. I’ve looked forward to graduating for all these years, and now that it’s happened, I’m reminded, once again, of the captain, he thought, frustrated. It annoyed him that, after he had made a deal with himself to forget about what happened, the captain seemed to keep coming back to haunt him. At the same time, however, he felt that he deserved it. After all, I did kill him...it’s only right that I should have a hard time forgetting about it...

The commander interrupted his thoughts, saying in a lighter tone, “On a slightly less depressing note, just between you and me, I took a little extra money from the base coffers and put it into your accounts, so you should find a nice surprise along with the 15000. I felt that you deserved it for, uh, your services.” He smiled at them and winked conspiratorially.

Jordan was torn between his delight that the commander was so grateful to them and his unhappiness that in accepting the extra credits, he would be part of a corruption scheme. He knew that the money in the base coffers should have been spent on helping the Liberty Rogues as a whole faction, but now it seemed as though the commander was using it to repay only those who helped him. Giving 15000 credits to all the men was okay: it would ensure that they were all battle-ready with suitable equipment, able to protect the base. Additional money, though...that went over the top.

Jordan wanted to refuse the money, but as he opened his mouth to say this, Matthew spoke up. “Thank you very much, sir. We pledge that we will spend this money in a manner that will ultimately benefit the base and the Liberty Rogues. Hopefully, we can be of service to you in the future.” With these words, Matthew saluted. The commander, with a flattered expression on his face, returned the salute, and then walked away.

As soon as Commander Lawrence left, Matthew turned to Jordan and exclaimed, “Dude, this is incredible! Not only are we out of training, but we’re also rich!”

Matthew’s words reminded Jordan of his friend’s willingness to put himself over his people. “Yeah, now that we have money to spend, we might as well just get some equipment and then leave. Just forget about Alcatraz and the rest of the Rogues, right? Isn’t that what you think we should do, Matthew?” Jordan accused, his voice growing louder with anger each second. “After all, who cares what happens to them as long as we’re rich and powerful?”

Matthew rolled his eyes, implying that he thought his friend was overreacting, but Jordan was having none of it. “Don’t roll your eyes at me, you traitorous *sshole. That’s exactly what you said. How can you feel that way? Don’t you care about what us Rogues are working towards? Don’t you want to force Liberty to stop abusing the working-class men and women of this House?”

Matthew opened his mouth as if to argue, but apparently decided that he was in the wrong, for he immediately closed it. For a moment, neither of them spoke. Then Matthew let out a deep breath and, with downcast eyes, said, “I’m, uh, sorry. It was wrong of me to say that I wanted to ditch the base. I guess I just got a little ahead of myself, what with all the excitement about the money that we received. That was wrong...I’m sorry.” Jordan said nothing, prompting Matthew to continue. He said, “Look at it this way if you want...if we spend the money to get better equipment and stuff like that, we’ll be more powerful and more able to fight Liberty, helping the Rogues.”

Jordan noticed that Matthew hadn’t actually said that he did care for the Rogue cause; instead, he’d only given an excuse that would allow him to spend on himself without Jordan labeling him as a “traitor”. However, he seemed apologetic, and besides, before Jordan could say anymore, Matthew looked up at him and, with a questioning expression on his face, said, “Now that we’ve gotten past all that...tell me, why is it that every time someone mentions Captain Bromison, you become so nervous? I mean, when Lawrence called Bromison in the roll call, you looked like you were having a mild heart attack. What happened?”

“Uh...nothing, nothing important...it’s a long story...I’d prefer not to talk about it,” muttered Jordan.

Matthew looked at his friend with a slight smile, and said sarcastically, “Oh come on, pique my curiosity a little more, why don’t you? Seriously...you expect me to drop it, knowing that you obviously think it is important but don’t want to talk about it? Come on...I’m going to go buy a new ship. Walk with me and tell me what happened.”

Jordan sighed and, as they walked to the ship dealer, told his story. Matthew listened with a blank expression on his face, putting Jordan off-balance even more than he already was, as he had no idea what his friend was thinking. By the time they stopped walking, Jordan had finished explaining what had happened to Captain Bromison, and they had been silent for several minutes.

Jordan was confused: Matthew didn’t seem to have reacted at all to the story of their mentor’s death. Even now, he was talking with Henry, the ship dealer, about the Mule freighter on display in the hanger. It must just be too upsetting for him, so he’s making himself forget it by continuing his life as if nothing happened, reasoned Jordan. I could certainly learn from that...

“Thank you very much, young man,” said Henry to Matthew, waking Jordan from his thoughts. “Stop by in the morning and we’ll complete the transaction. Right now I need to prepare the ship...you know, outfit it with some decent equipment, make sure that the systems are running properly...gotta make sure you’re all set to fly, right?” said Henry, chuckling.

Matthew thanked Henry and then turned to Jordan. “What about you, you ready to ditch that bucket-of-bolts?” he asked with a grin on his face.

“I’ll pass,” said Jordan coolly. “Besides, how do you expect to be able to fight in a Mule? Can that thing even turn?”

Before Matthew could respond, Henry spoke up. “It most certainly can turn, and with the extra armament and cargo space, it’s a much better ship than that fighter of yours ,” spat Henry contemptuously, defending his product.

Jordan was unconvinced, but rather than starting an argument on whether freighters or fighters were better, he said, “Henry, nothing will make me buy a Mule, but you can still make some money off me. I’m really eager to be able to fly a ship without worrying about it blowing up every time I take off, so I’ll make you a deal...you fix up my ship before everyone else’s, and load it up with some good guns and the like, and I’ll give you, say, 6000 credits? What do you think?”

“Done,” replied Henry, beaming. “Come back in the morning with your friend here and I’ll have it ready. Yours is the one that looked like it was falling apart even before it took off, right?”

Jordan nodded, chuckling, before he bade Henry farewell and walked with Matthew back to their quarters. Exhausted from the day’s excitement, they both wordlessly collapsed into bed.

From his bed, Matthew murmured, “This is so exciting. We’ve both got great ships and lots of money. We’re graduated and can do whatever we want. Life is great. I still can’t figure out why you don’t want a Mule, though.”

“I still can’t figure out why you want one,” retorted Jordan. “Don’t you think you’ll be able to fight better in a fighter?”

“Maybe...but the Mule is pretty well-armed. Besides, I’m buying it more for its cargo space than its fighting ability...think about all the stuff that I can smuggle around Liberty.”

“Oh yeah, I forgot. Making money for yourself is all you care about,” said Jordan, threatening to restart their earlier argument.

“Hey, we’ve already been through this...that money will help me fight Liberty, which helps the Rogues. Don’t start this again,” Matthew said angrily.

Jordan said nothing and rolled onto his stomach, closing his eyes. The heat from his blankets engulfed him, relaxing him after the long day. So much has happened, he thought sleepily. Sure wouldn’t have expected this when I woke up this morning...graduated from training, new ship...my roommate’s insatiable greed...Captain Bromison...

Jordan stopped his negative thinking. Instead, he focused on his accomplishments. As he felt sleep approaching, he smiled, thinking about the beautiful ship that would be waiting for him when he awoke, and then his weariness put him out for the night.

Edited by - njhockeyboy on 5/17/2005 4:29:36 PM

found myself doing my normal leaning into the screen another awsome story.

A 8 man team cant defeat a science research center filled with who knows what that have already killed 500 people....

If your biggest gun doesnt work first then drop it and run like heck.....