BORN OF HEROES

— by Jeff Karamales

Chapter 3
 

 Cerise was true to her word and stopped by every day either before or after her work shift at the starport or spent all day with him when she wasn’t working. She often accompanied Elias to his rounds in therapy, offering encouragement to push himself in ways that the therapist couldn’t. Cerise also brought fresh flowers every three days, new reading material as he needed it or pushed him out to the rooftop garden for fresh air as he was confined to a wheelchair when not in physical rehabilitation. The friendship that was developing between them grew stronger each visit, and Elias did everything he was capable of to aid his own recovery, motivated by the knowledge that each little triumph pleased Cerise.

  And for some reason he really wanted to please her.

  It was approaching the end of Elias’s first month in the hospital, and he heard a commotion outside the door. Thinking it was Cerise, the fox sat up a little straighter and had a smile on his face. The smile faltered when a very tall lion whose shoulders were almost as wide as the doorway walked in wearing the Spatial Police Force dress gray uniform with crimson piping and broad blood stripes on the legs of his trousers. His rank tabs had colonel’s insignia on them, and the name tab over his left breast pocket read ‘Brees’.

  Elias swallowed hard, wondering what the SPF Special Operations Commander was doing in his room.

  The lion was followed by a female cheetah with major’s rank tabs.

  “’Morning, Chief,” the lion said in a deep rumbling voice. Without anything more forthcoming, Brees took the chair that Cerise normally sat in and dropped into it, the metal groaning with the unaccustomed mass. Once settled he looked at Elias with an appraising look and nodded at something. “Looks like you’re doing all right, here. Surprised that you aren’t going to be here longer if truth be told, son. Nasty crash you had there. This is one of the reasons that you are of special interest to me.” He leaned back in the chair, propping one leg over the other, his hands linking over his knee as he continued to regard the fox, his orange-gold eyes seeming to penetrate Elias all the way to his soul. “Now then, I know it’s still not easy for you to talk, so I just want you to nod yes or no to my questions, all right?”

  Elias nodded slowly, wondering what was going on, his pulse speeding up. For Colonel Sander Brees to come talk to him, he must have royally screwed up somewhere. Brees was the stuff of legends in the Spatial Police Force. He could make an individual’s career or end it spectacularly. He was best known for the latter as the lion didn’t tolerate fools. Elias felt suddenly very nauseous and hoped he didn’t throw up in front of the Colonel.

  “Now then, son, have you seen any of the videos of the crash or the rescue immediately following?” Elias nodded slowly, wondering what he’d done wrong for the SPF hatchet man to come see him personally. “There are a lot of people that think you are damn lucky, son. But what I saw wasn’t the result of luck alone. There was a substantial portion of skill involved as well. That’s the kind of skill that I have been looking for.”

  Elias wondered where this was going and watched with some curiosity overriding his initial trepidation as the lion took a DataPak from the cheetah and thumbed it to life before tapping a series of commands on it.

  “You served two years with the Alexandrian Navy before enlisting in the SPF, served a full tour on the Vanguard before passing your tests for flight officer training. You’ve been with us for what... almost seven years now? Commendation for Valor, citation for meritorious service, cross trained for zero-gee operations, ship to ship boarding…Son, you have way more than luck. You’re exactly the kind of individual I’ve been looking for! Now then,” the lion continued, turning his gaze back to Elias, “what I’m about to tell you is level Blue classification. Absolutely top secret. Do you understand?”

  Elias nodded. At this, the cheetah pulled a small device from her thin attaché case and pressed a button. A small LED on the side lit green and she looked at her superior and gave him a slight but firm nod. Elias recognized it as a debugger. It would scramble any listening device within fifty feet.

  “I have a project that has been in the works for several years now, and with the resulting problems of the Siilv War, the increase in pirate activity, I’ve finally been given the go ahead from the Planetary Alignment Council. Before I go into details, let me ask you this. Would you like to get a little payback on the ship that knocked you and yours out of the sky?”

  “Very much so, Sir,” Elias rasped with almost as much enthusiasm as he had when Cerise was near.

  “I told you not to talk, son, and I mean it. Don’t need you undoing all the progress that has been made in putting you back together so far,” Brees said looking up from the DataPak and at the fox and giving the vulpine a look that spoke more clearly than words could have.

  “The little project I have in the works is called Operation Sweeper. Essentially its entire purpose is to actively identify, hunt down, and neutralize any and all pirate activity. This includes smugglers and slavers as well. With the way things are in the PA at the moment, this operation would be more cost efficient than letting things sit. There aren’t a lot of freight haulers roaming around right now, and even a single pirate attack on a freighter is having serious, and at times disastrous, results on member worlds. Like it or not, the worlds of the Alignment are interdependent on each other. Just look at what happened with the exports from Nalirra when they were annexed. Four planets couldn’t get the basic materials they needed for products ranging from medical equipment to ship components. And that affects how many others in the long run? Jobs lost, commerce interrupted. Maybe we don’t get what we need for our people to do their job, or a little girl doesn’t get medication that she needs to live another day. All because these parasites are preying on honest freight movers.

  “A lot of the larger freight companies and a few of the smaller ones are arming their vessels with point defense weaponry, but rarely anything that can stand up to the kind of firepower the scavengers can muster. More importantly, most of those armed freighters don’t have access to the kind of training needed to defend them, so even the most lethal weaponry becomes ineffectual.”

  Brees sat back and looked at Elias and saw that he had the fox’s attention. “What I’m proposing is making a warship look like an average, everyday freighter, or pleasure yacht, or other desirable target that is anything but. Bait and trap all in one enticing package. And crewed by those who have the knowledge and experience to use that equipment. The problem is finding individuals that have the right qualities to do this job. I think you have what I’m looking for, son. Plain and simple.”

  Brees stood and regarded Elias. “I don’t want an answer yet. I want you to think about this. And think real hard. It won’t be easy. There won’t be a lot of glory. It will be nasty and you are going to see things that’ll turn your stomach. But the clincher, the point that needs to be made is that at the end of the day, you’ll know that you have made a difference. An important difference.”

  Elias looked at the lion with his one good eye. “What position, Sir?” he rasped, ignoring instructions not to talk.

  Brees turned and took a few steps to the room’s door. He looked back over his shoulder and gave the fox a lopsided grin as he put the stem of a tobacco pipe in the corner of his mouth. “The position I’m offering is Captain of our first pirate hunter, son. Think on it, will you?”

  And with that the lion and cheetah left.

  Elias did as suggested and thought long and hard on the Colonel’s proposal.

***

  “You seem rather pensive and distracted today,” Cerise commented as they sat in the roof top garden of the hospital looking at the clouds scudding by and casting splotchy shadows on the city around them. “Is everything all right?”

  Elias roused himself out of his reverie and nodded, giving the other fox a reassuring smile. “I had an interesting visitor yesterday, is all,” he said with his right hand pressed against the lingering soreness of his throat. Each day he could feel himself getting a little better, a little stronger, but his abused vocal chords and throat still weren’t healed to the point where he could talk for an extended amount of time.

  Cerise reached out and took his hand. “If there’s anything that I can do to make you feel better, just let me know.” She was pleased when he squeezed her hand and gave her a smile in response. “Though there is a surprise waiting for you in your room that might make you feel better,” she said looking at her wrist watch, which like the rest of her jewelry was silver. “C’mon. I think you’ll like this!”

  He watched as she stood up and admired her outfit of the day. She had a sapphire blue blouse that was tied in a knot at the front leaving her flat belly exposed and pulled tight against the swell of her modest breasts. Her skirt was black and rather abbreviated, exposing her lean legs and when she walked her tail swished back and forth enticingly. She wore simple sandals that laced up her calves. Elias was secretly pleased at the envious looks that were cast his way whenever Cerise was with him and also noted the looks that the vixen got from other females for being able to wear such clothing without a hint of self-consciousness. He wondered if she knew that she moved with a grace and pride that was hard to teach, but came with supreme comfort and confidence in her own femininity.

  She got behind the wheelchair and pushed the fox to the elevator, and Elias caught her scent as a breeze washed over Cerise and inhaled deeply. He was smiling as she took him back to his room, filling the short journey with the various goings-on in her life. One of the guards opened the door when the pair reached Elias’s room and gave both a smile and wave. “Doin’ all right today, Chief?” the Rottweiler asked casually as Cerise wheeled the fox inside.

  “Considering the company that I am blessed with, more than all right, Sergeant!” Elias husked with a grin.

  The guard chuckled as the door swung shut. Elias was distracted, however. From a covered tray that rested on the swivel table mounted on the side of his bed came the unmistakable aroma of meat. The fox turned his head to look at the vixen, surprise on his face.

  “It’s okay. I got permission from Doctor Cairns,” she said as she wheeled him to the bedside. Cerise was pleased to see that he was able to move better as Elias shifted himself from the wheelchair to the bed with more ease today than previously. He sat with his eyes closed and inhaled deeply.

  “This smells wonderful!” the fox rasped, opening his eyes and giving the vixen a look of extreme gratitude.

  “It tastes better than it smells. I guarantee you that!” she took the lid off of the dish, revealing a thick steak, perfectly seared, before setting a knife and fork next to the plate followed by a bottle of sparkling fruit juice. “Sorry. The Doctor said no wine yet.” She watched him intently and when he didn’t move, she chuckled, knowing why he hesitated. “Don’t worry. I had mine before I cooked yours!”

  Elias smiled. Taking the utensils in hand he cut into the meat which hardly offered any resistance. The meat was savory and tender and seasoned to perfection, and the pleasure of it was beyond description.

  When he was done eating, both of them sat next to each other and talking until well past the curfew for visitors had expired.

— NEXT CHAPTER —

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