Knight Squadron - Dark Times

"Get out," Aiden ordered once more. "You may have given up on him, but I haven't."

Those words ignited a look of fury on Hanson's face that Aiden wasn't sure if he had ever seen before.

"Don't you dare put words in my mouth, Commander," Hanson responded quietly. "I will never..."

Before he could finish, Aiden reached back and landed a sharp right-hook squarely across Hanson's jaw. Just as he was about to raise an arm to strike again, Hanson countered. An excruciating sense of pain flooded through his own jaw, mouth, and face as Hanson struck back, clearly not attempting to withhold any strength. Aiden stumbled backwards, tripping over his chair and landing on the ground with a dull thud. His ears rang.

Looking up, he saw Hanson standing over him with a sorrowful expression, "He was my friend too."

Hanson took a seat on the ground in front him, staring at the broken model Valkyrie. Aiden looked away, his eyes locking on the holo-frame that would have been destroyed had his friend not intervened. Contained within it was a holo-photo of himself, Jarro, Hanson, and Ares. It was a candid still image of the four of them in their flight-suits, gathered around the forward landing strut of a starfighter. Jarro must have said something amusing just before it had been taken, for all of them had grins plastered on their faces.

Embarrassment and regret filled him. Aiden looked towards the man he had wronged and opened his mouth to speak, but before he could say anything Hanson waved a hand dismissively.

The crushing, awkward hush that ensued was a mutual apology.

***

Chorix

Ten months...

That still hadn't quite settled in. It had been ten months to the day that Ares had gone missing. Aiden was embarrassed to admit that had caught him off-guard. Had it really been that long? Wynter had been the one who had brought it up earlier in the day while they sat on a stage in the sweltering sun. For a brief moment he forgot about the annoyance he felt for being dragged out to another propaganda event. Aiden felt guilty for having forgotten the significance of the date.

Ares's disappearance had consumed him for the first seven or so months and it had taken a clear toll on his work. His friends and superiors had noticed. He had heard rumors that General Kless was getting ready to intervene, coming within moments of issuing mandatory shore leave with a psychologist to get his act together. It wasn't as if he wasn't aware that others were concerned. Aiden simply couldn't find it in himself to care.

It was the eighth month when things started to turn around for Aiden. Admiral Raeder arrived in his office to be the latest senior officer to chew him out for his sloppy work. Rarely did he leave the Hess. For Raeder to be paying a personal visit was either a very good sign or a harbinger of terrible things to come. It didn't surprise Aiden in the slightest when it turned out to be the latter of the two options.

The ultimatum was simple. If there wasn't a turnaround and quickly, he was going to discharge Aiden and send him packing. The rest of the meeting was brief. Aiden was given one chance to show he was still up to the job: he had to deliver the names of four dozen pilots suitable for reforming Knight Squadron.

He was suddenly terrified. Ten weeks was nowhere near enough time to do such a daunting task justice. Aiden pored over the Luftwaffe pilot registry, combing simulator scores, instructor comments, and conducting informal interviews. If he were to be honest, he wasn't sure if he was going to make it. It took numerous sleepless nights with a java maker to create the finalized list, but two hours before the deadline he managed to hand-deliver it to Admiral Raeder and General Kless.

That had been only a day earlier. He realized that devoting himself to that task had been just the distraction he needed to get his career - and life - back on track. Part of himself wondered if that had all been Raeder's plan all along. The Admiral was a decidedly cunning tactician in the battlefield. Perhaps some of that skill translated to wrangling his subordinates into place as well. Later Aiden confronted him and posed that question point-blank. The Admiral only offered a rough approximation of a grin before dismissing Aiden without an answer.

A chirping notification on his encrypted hotel room terminal jolted Aiden from his reverie. Blinking in surprise, he set down his fruit fizz on the desk and depressed a button on the keypad to activate the holo-comm link.

"This is Commander Hunt," he said.

He was greeted by the image of a young woman wearing what looked to be a Reich Republic medical officer's uniform

"Good evening Commander, I'm Lieutenant Dessner," she said. "I do hope I'm not interrupting anything."

"Not at all," Aiden replied honestly. "What can I do for you?"

"We've just had a patient admitted with no next of kin listed. He... seems like he could use some company right now."

He noticed that Dessner looked somewhat nervous. Why was he being told such a vague story?

"I appreciate the concern for your patient," Aiden said, "but as much as I'd like to greet every patient on board your ship I can't exactly drop what I'm doing to fly out there."

"I understand, Commander," Dessner said, "but please hear me out. I couldn't contact or locate any relatives, but his service record has you listed as his last commanding officer."

"Lieutenant, I..."

"Sir, I wouldn't ask unless I thought it was important."

Aiden could sense the sincerity in her voice. Sighing to himself, he chose to play along.

"Very well. It looks like you're only a few hours away so I'll see what I can do. No promises though, understood?"

"Yes, sir," the Lieutenant offered a weary smile. "Thank you."

With that the holo-comm call ended. The entire exchange had been confusing, but if anything it gave Aiden a reasonable excuse to get off-world for at least a few hours. Fishing his comm out of his pocket, he placed a call in to General Kless requesting permission to ship out to the Redemption. When pressed as for a reason, he responded honestly. There was someone on board he needed to see. Aiden could tell that Kless was reluctant to give the go-ahead. After a few minutes of arguing Aiden managed to secure clearance to leave.

The hyperspace jump was relatively brief. Aiden did his best not to get his hopes up for ten months was an awfully long time for a prisoner of war to turn up. Military or not, the longer someone was missing the less likely they would ever be found again. Still, as the medical frigate grew larger in his forward viewport he couldn't help but wonder. Could this really be it? One question seemed to spawn another.

If it was Ares, should he have talked to Wynter before leaving?

Should Jarro and Hanson know?

What would he say?

He shook his head and chastised himself for jumping so far ahead. Aiden had convinced himself that he was at peace with Ares's loss. Doubt began to form in his mind. Had he really come to terms with it, or had he just kept himself busy enough to keep from thinking of him? He did his best to push those thoughts out of his mind as he set down his Valkyrie on the Redemption's hangar floor. Tapping his fingers against his flightsuit, he waited several minutes for a deckhand to wheel a descent ladder to his ship. The moment he was on the ground he was greeted by the concerned Lieutenant who called him only hours earlier.

"I can't thank you enough for arriving so quickly," Dessner said, leading him out of the hangar and towards a repulsorlift.

"Don't mention it," Aiden said quietly as the lift descended towards a level he had never been on.

"Again I apologize for the lack of transparency," she continued. "I might be in some trouble for just contacting you, but..."

She trailed off as the lift opened. Aiden stepped into a hallway that was lined with armed guards, a pair standing outside each room. A sign above the hall indicated that they were in a secure wing. Now he wasn't sure what to think. This section of the frigate was reserved for criminals and prisoners that were in need of medical treatment. Who could he possibly know here? Lieutenant Dessner stopped in front of one of the rooms, flashing her identification credentials to the guards. Aiden did the same.

Dessner motioned for Aiden to enter. Nervously he looked from her to the door before finally gathering up the courage to key for it to open and step inside.

The patient wasn't in his bed. The blonde man was standing in the center of the room, staring at a cheap piece of art on the wall. The door sliding shut behind Aiden seemed to catch his attention. His gaze drifted away from the crudely painted image of a vase of flowers. Aiden suddenly realized that he really should have thought this through better.

He should have talked to Wynter before leaving.

He should have let Jarro and Hanson know.

He should have figured out what to say.

Aiden stared at the man for a long while. His mind and heart were at odds with each other. While his head insisted that, yes, he wasn't seeing things, his heart loudly proclaimed that this was some sort of sick, cruel, disgusting joke. Someone's going to jump out of that supply cabinet, Hunt.

"Aiden...?" the man asked quietly.

Ares was standing right in front of Aiden, clear as the twin Remus suns. He looked thin, ragged, and tired, but there was no mistaken identity this time. It was really him. Aiden walked forward on unsteady legs, silently looking over the son of Tarsus for a moment before carefully placing his hands on Ares's shoulders.

His mind filled with questions. What happened? Where had he been? Was he feeling well? Why were there guards outside his room? Aiden watched as a look of relief flooded his friend's entire being. Finally it hit him. Ares was okay, his best friend had made it back. He was alive. Aiden desperately wanted to talk to him, to say anything but the second he tried he felt his throat and chest tighten. At that moment, Aiden did something he had not done since he was seventeen: he cried.

What began as a few stray tears quickly gave way to uncontrolled sobs. He embraced Ares with all his strength, terrified that his friend would vanish into the unknown once again if he let go. Aiden wasn't sure how much time had passed before he realized that he wasn't going anywhere. It was then that ten months of heartache, fear, and anger were instantly replaced by overwhelming relief.

Ares was home.

***

The End...