Ben Chaney - Son of Sedonia

“Never gets old,” said Shima, watching the live feed from the aft prisoner compartments. He released the seal on his oxygen mask with a smirk and unbuckled his flight harness. They had removed his Augs to clean, dose, and re-bandage his wounded leg. He might walk with a limp for a few days, they told him, but on the way to the Themis Colony, no walking would be required. It felt good to have a break from gravity tugging on the recombining flesh and muscle.

“Hehe, yeah. Bunch of tough little shits ’til you shoot ’em into orbit!” The pilot chuckled.

“Fuck ’em.” Shima said. The pilot started to laugh again, but saw Shima’s stone expression. Shima took one last look out of the cockpit canopy. The details of the lunar surface grew bigger and sharper with each passing minute. They would soon enter the outermost ring of orbiting satellites, meaning three hours or so before touchdown at Themis. Three hours to just float and think. He couldn’t take it. Shima pulled himself up over the co-pilot’s seat and pushed off to the squad compartment.

The bitter reminder greeted him as he passed through the hatch. Vaughn, the rookie, was the only familiar face. The rest were replacements fresh out of Red Gate… some looked young enough to be freshmen. Vaughn sat in the rear left hand corner of the compartment, strapped snugly in his harness and typing on a virtual keypad in his Neural. Shima drifted over.

“You know, kid… typing the After-Action is the ranking officer’s job. My job—eh?”

The weak-chinned replacement in the seat next to Vaughn sneezed, sending tiny particles jetting through the air. Shima dodged most of them.

“Listen, numbnuts, go… secure the lavatory or something, grown folks are talking.”

“But sir, I was just in there, and it’s fi—”

“Now,” Shima said. The replacement paled and fiddled with the harness. Shima punched the center of it, released the shoulder bars, picked the boy up, and floated him gently down the aisle. Vaughn ignored them, rubbing at his lower lip and staring intently at the Neural display. Shima pulled himself down into the replacement’s seat. As he leaned over to speak, Vaughn started typing again.

“You know my old man was an asshole?” Shima said. Vaughn furrowed his brow and shot Shima a confused look.

“Oh yeah! Total asshole. Though knowing me, that might not’ve surprised you.” Shima grinned. Vaughn allowed a small snort of amusement. Shima gave him a brief stare-down before continuing.

“He’d come home and find me and my brothers neck deep in some kind of bullshit around the apartment or on the Beck’s Run Skywalk outside and he’d just lay into us, screamin’ his ass off about this and that and ‘why the fuck can’t you shitheads just come home from school and keep quiet?’ And when I was younger, I’d get scared of him right away, I mean my old man could be like a pissed off Rottweiler when he got back from a fourteen-hour double in the Outer Ring. But if we didn’t do shit that day, he’d just grumble, fall into his chair in front of the screen, and drink wine coolers till he passed out. Never understood the wine cooler thing, myself.” Shima got a laugh out of Vaughn with that one.

“Right? I mean, what kind of working class hard ass chugs box-wine? Whatever, I digress. So anyway, Mom had left years earlier for some Mesa hotshot she’d met at the skin bar where she worked, so the old man was all we had left… and he got to where he didn’t sweat the small shit anymore. Me and my brothers had to get creative ,” Shima tapped at the side of his head, “We’d steal chemicals from school to start fires on the Skywalk, or break all the dishes in the auto-door to our unit. One time we decided to ambush Dad in the elevators from inside the emergency hatch. I was the youngest and the only one small enough to get in there quick enough, so Hashimé helped me up into the shaft and Kaneda kept lookout to radio up when Dad got in on the commuter level. The signal came and up I went… and let me tell you, if you think those things are fast when you’re in ’em, try riding on one. I heard the doors open and everyone file in… scared shitless. But something snapped and I flipped open the latch and dropped in on like twelve dirty, sweaty teamsters. Before I could shake it off, I felt the hand grip the back of my neck and stand me up. Nobody said a word for thirty floors. The beating didn’t come until we got to the unit. Dad pushed me through the front door and gave me a good one right in the gut. I deserved it. Knew that. But I got up and just fuckin’ charged full force . First I kicked his knee the way it wasn’t supposed to go and heard a snap. Then when he went down I started in on his ribs. Then his head. The cops found me sitting on the bloody floor next to the old man. Shipped my brothers off to social services and me to Juvi. Best thing that ever happened to me.”

Vaughn’s attempt to hide disgust failed. The replacements had dropped all eavesdropping pretenses and leaned in to listen. Shima, punchline in his back pocket, smiled.

“Oh yeah! Turns out all I needed was structure. Discipline. I ate it up, morning, noon, and night. The drills, the PT, the chores…hell, I even liked the classes! A model inmate, all the way. So much so that by the time I came of age, some of the Ex-Mil CO’s recommended me for this new special program for young adults just like me…” Shima paused and looked around the room.

“Red Gate?” One of the replacements ventured.

“Give the noob a prize!” Shima said. Vaughn had returned his attention to the report. Shima stared at him a moment.

“You did good today, kid. But don’t let it go to your head, ‘cuz things are just getting started. Oh I know we’ve ‘decapitated the leadership’ and all that, but do any of you kids really think that’s it? Everybody retire and go home?”

No one answered.

“Believe you me, there will be more T99s and Right Hand Guards and Kangal Armies… and they won’t forget what happened today,” Shima projected his voice for the whole compartment to hear, “A raid like this might make everybody feel good in the short term, but the war isn’t over. It’ll go on. And on. And on. And on. Until somebody either gives up or gets wiped off the planet. And those who’se job it is to fight have to embrace it. Love it. I know what you’re thinking, but loving it’s different than wishing for it. I dread every single fight. I shake like a full blown Sway addict every time I step in that dropship, but just like when my old man’s fist rammed into my gut, after the first bullet flies, everying changes. I love it. Every minute of it, even though at the same time I can’t wait for it to be over! I love it because I’m a warrior. You guys need to make up your minds what you are. Wind up in the middle and you wind up dead.” Shima pushed up out of the seat and drifted down the aisle for his dramatic exit.

“What about Mason? Dreivan? Babb? All the others… EXOs, T99s, average dwellers? Did they all have as much fun as you? Or were they all just in the middle?” Vaughn asked. Shima spun around and pushed off toward Vaughn. He grabbed the rookie’s harness and cocked a fist back. It both felt and looked less threatening in Zero-G. As they stared at one another, the fire in Shima’s face receded. The sharp features somehow looked childish… sad. Shima lowered his fist and released the harness.

“Things are just getting started, boys. Stay alert, do your jobs, and mark my fucking words.” With an ounce of his recovered bravado, Shima turned to go. He bumped his leg in the maneuver, sending a knife of pain up and down his right-hand side. The offending seat paid for it with a punch to the cushion. He pushed off faster toward the cockpit.