by C. R. Daems
"If you will follow me," one of the men said as he turned and walked to a closed door with a falcon on it. "That is your sub-house's identification, a Saker falcon," he said, as he touched a metal plate with his Sleeve and the door opened. "Your Sleeves have also been coded with the key to open this door. The tunnel led to a large open area with comfortable lounge chairs and couches along with a couple of tables with metal chairs. "This is a general meeting area." He proceeded to walk us through the various rooms: twenty four-person bedrooms, ten classrooms, two conference rooms, a dining hall which substituted for a meeting room, six simulator rooms, and several caverns, one with a cruiser and three with fighters. "For the next two days, you will be given three lectures outlying the police, Bridge, and fighter duties. Then you will be asked to select."
I noticed Todd had a smile on his face during the entire tour. After some negotiations, Hanna, Hyun, and I managed to get one of the four-person rooms. To my surprise, they did not insist the rooms have four since there were more rooms than candidates.
"What did you decide?" Hanna asked as we sat in our sleeping quarters at the end of the second day.
"Fighters," I said.
"Wow!" Hyun and Hanna exclaimed in unison.
"Sounds dangerous," Hanna said. I laughed.
"Girls, we volunteered for the House of War. That makes us crazier than the men because we should know better. Crazy or not, if something is worth doing like saving Anixia, I say we should do it to excess."
Hanna laughed. "You go kill the Tullizor, and we will keep the cruiser functional so you have transportation home."
"Deal," I said. Choosing fighters was crazy, but my intuition said they were the key, at least in the short term, to getting an edge over the Tullizor. I was committed to the Anixia and the Phoenix and wanted to be where I could make a difference.
"Look!" Hanna screamed, pointing to her Sleeve. The shiny steel surface now had an image of a Saker falcon. When I looked at mine, it had the same image. "I guess that makes it official. We are now members of the Saker House of War."
An hour later, my Sleeve vibrated. I clicked on the mail icon.
Kayla, your request to join the fighter unit has been approved. Report to the fighter cavern at seven hundred hours tomorrow for training. Administration.
When I looked up, Hyun and Hanna were smiling. Now all I have to do is pass fighter training, and I can't even drive a car, I mused.
Chapter 7
Training For War
I met Todd on the way to the fighter cavern.
"I should have guessed you would choose fighters with that grin you have been wearing for the past several days. Crazy jock," I said and smiled.
"You didn't!" he stopped abruptly, almost causing the man behind him to collide with him.
"Yes, I did," I said. "It's a test to see who is the craziest. You or me." I continued walking, following the other men into the cavern. A thin man who looked in his mid-twenties stood waiting, scanning each of us as we entered the room.
"Welcome to fighter training. My name is Bradley," he said, frowning as his eyes paused for a second on me. His face looked hard or maybe weary. "This is a pass or fail course. We don't need half-trained or incompetent fighter pilots. You either fit or you don't." He held up his Sleeve, which had an image of a Saker, and alongside of the image, a stylized black falcon with a yellow beak, wings, body, and yellow legs with talons. Above the black falcon were three silver stars, one above the other in a vertical line. "The stars indicate the equivalent of officer rank–one star a qualified fighter pilot, two a squad leader, and three a fighter wing leader. No stars, a fighter trainee. For cruisers, the same bird but it is gold with a red beak and talons. One star means someone qualified on the Bridge, two a senior member of the Bridge, and three the captain." He waved towards two rows of seats. "The first order of business is to acquaint you with our fighters and their controls. The picture on the monitor is our standard fighter. In the center is a circular cabin for the pilot. Only the trainers have two seats, one for an instructor. Two sections circle the cabin and look like wings. They wrap around the cabin and meet at the power compartment in the rear. These wrap-around sections contain a variety of missiles and counter measures." As he talked, the image on the screen showed the inside of each compartment. The last picture was the pilot's control panel. "Your first assignment is to learn the function of each button, switch, and gauge. Tomorrow's session, as well as many to follow, will be in a fighter simulator. You are dismissed for now; however, those that are interested are free to enter the black fighter over there. You enter from the top. Only one person at a time. Senior Pilot Simon will be there to answer any questions you have."
As I waited my turn, I noticed the man who claimed to be a transgender and the one who didn't want a Sleeve talking a few meters away.
"This is like Russia or Iran, Carl," he said. "If the Anixians don't like the way you are, they change your DNA. Then they say you have a choice of work. Bullshit. I asked for cruisers, and they put me in fighters. Some choice, you do what they say, or they will kick you out to die."
"I agree, Doug," Carl said. "You have more rights in prison. A lot of the others agree, but they are pussies and afraid to stand up for their basic rights…" Their voices faded as they drifted away.
When my turn came, I used a small ladder to climb onto the wing, crossed to the cabin module and lowered myself into the cockpit, and sat in the pilot's chair, which seemed to engulf me in welcome. I suddenly felt at peace and knew I had made the right decision.
We spent the next two weeks either in the simulator or examining every component of the fighter as it related to the control panel. Not that we could fix anything in flight, but so that if something malfunctioned, we would understand how it affected the fighter's performance and our options. As far as I was concerned, I had died for the second time and had gone to heaven. If I could have taken the fighter to bed with me, I would have.
"Kayla, how is fighter training going?" Hyun asked one evening several weeks later as we prepared to settle down to study.
"I'm in love," I said. "I can't wait to actually fly a fighter. The only minor problem is our instructor, Bradley. I get the impression he doesn't believe women should be fighter pilots."
"That's not good. He could make up some reason to fail you," Hanna said, looking worried. "You could join us if he does."
"His only chance will be when we get to fly the fighters because my simulator and test scores have been very good. Everything just feels right, like I'm a reincarnated fighter pilot." I laughed. The day finally came two weeks later.
"Today, each of you is going to get a ride in an Anixia fighter. Since there are ten of you and only two of us, it will take roughly five hours. I've sent the order and time you need to be back here to your Sleeve. Todd, Doug, you are up," Bradley said and began walking with Simon toward two fighters near the massive doors with Todd and Carl following.
I felt disappointed when I saw I was last and had four hours to wait. I idly wondered as to the purpose of the flight, whether I would get Simon or Bradley, and if it had already been predetermined. It did not matter, but Bradley did make me nervous.
At eleven forty-five, I reported to the fighter cavern. Ten minutes later, the two training fighters arrived. One of the two men that exited the fighter looked as pale as a dead fish. I stood so excited I was bouncing in place. Then I saw Bradley stick his head out of the pilot's hatch and wave for me to join him. I was too hyped to care who was my instructor for this ride. It felt like I had been waiting for this ride all of my life. I ran over to the ladder, climbed onto the wing, and dropped into the hatch, landing in the pilot's chair.
"I wouldn't recommend doing that," Bradley scowled. "You can't fly with a concussion or worse."
"Sorry," I mumbled as I pressed the button to engage the restrains. "The first time doing something new is always exciting."
"What about getting shot at with missiles and lasers?" He glared in my direc
tion.
"Yes, if you are there for the right reasons," I said, taking my eyes away from the pilot's control console.
"What would that be?" he asked, frowning.
"Defending my home," I said, anxious to get on with it. We were all here for that exact reason.
"All right, let's see how you feel after your first ride in an Anixia fighter.
I was tempted to say something but didn't need to antagonize Bradley any more than he already was. I nodded and turned back to the console.
"Normally, the cruiser pushes each fighter out of the bay doors before you start your engine," Bradley's voice took on a lecturing tone. "It's dangerous to start or run a fighter's engine inside the cruiser. Each fighter sits inside a track when ready for combat. For realism, we do the same here, except in space, there is no need to rush as there is nothing to run into. Here, gravity will pull the fighter to the ground within ten seconds as we are only a thousand meters above the ground. Since this is your first time, I'll do it since I'm not suicidal." Just then, I was pushed back against the seat as we were hurled out of the cavern's open door. I smiled, intently watching the gauges on the console as the engine came to life. The acceleration pushed me harder into the seat as the fighter began to increase to eight times the speed of sound–a snail's pace for a fighter but fast on a planet. Then suddenly, the fighter went through multiple rolls, loops, and up and down spins. It felt like a death-defying-roller-coaster ride on steroids. I loved it and couldn't keep an ear-to-ear grin off my face and had an urge to scream with joy. I was alive and free, and life was wonderful. That didn't appear to please Bradley. As I watched the fighter's hologram of the space around us, we were heading for a very large mountain at almost ten thousand kilometers per hour. I watched in fascination. I should have been afraid, but I was having far too much fun and subconsciously knew Bradley wasn't suicidal. Sure enough, the fighter banked one hundred eighty degrees, and we were flying through a narrow break in the mountain. Bradley slowed to just under Mach one while doing a series of twists, rolls, and turns.
"Kayla, are we upside down or right side up?" Bradley asked, surprising me. I checked the console, but it was no help. Up and down had no meaning in space.
"Can I have control, Bradley?" I asked. He gave me a hard stare before touching a switch, and my console lit. I eased the joystick gently forward, knowing if we were upside down, it would increase our elevation, and saw the altimeter increase. I then moved it back so we were flying parallel to the ground and then to the right cautiously as the fighter rolled. I went past one hundred eighty by over twenty degrees but slowly managed to get the fighter back to level. "We were upside down and now are right side up," I said, immensely pleased with myself. My panel went dark again. Bradley pressed the button, which rotated the pilot's module and opened a window to the outside world. He said nothing on the way back. At first, I was a bit anxious, but it dissipated quickly with the pure joy of soring over Anixia's mountainous terrain. All too soon, we were in the cavern.
"Kayla, you are now officially a fighter pilot in training." He hesitated for a full minute before speaking again, "That was good thinking and a fair maneuver for a first time at the controls." He ignored my "thanks" and exited the fighter without another word.
I skipped all the way back to my quarters. Hyun and Hanna arrived two hours later.
"She looks too damn pleased," Hanna said to Hyun. "You think Bradley said something nice to her?"
"He did," I said, sitting up. "I am now officially a fighter pilot trainee."
"I thought you were already a trainee," Hyun said, frowning.
"Apparently, Bradley or the Saker House doesn't consider you qualified to be a trainee until you can prove you can master the technical requirements and can handle a death-defying ride with twists, rolls, loops, and flying inside mountains at Mach 8." I pumped my right arm in triumph, raised my left arm, and turned my Sleeve to show my black falcon symbol.
Chapter 8
The Art Of War
"You nine are officially in training to be fighter pilots–"
"What have we been doing for the past several weeks?" Doug interrupted.
"Qualifying for fighter pilot training," Bradley said, not missing a beat by the interruption. "That doesn't mean you will qualify to be a Saker fighter pilot, only that you meet the minimum requirements."
"What if we don't qualify to be a Saker fighter pilot? Do we enter the cruiser training?" Carl asked.
"Not necessarily. It would depend on the reason you didn't qualify. You could be assigned to a different house. I don't know or care," Bradley said and continued without a pause. "I am only concerned with qualifying individuals who meet the Saker House's fighter-pilot standards. Those that don't would be a danger to themselves, their fellow pilots, and endanger the cruiser we depend on to get home." Bradley scanned the group, pausing at me again. "It is not enough to know how to fly an Anixia fighter; you must be able to operate it to its full potential. In addition, you must understand the Tullizor's tactics as well as our strategic operational plan. You are part of a team and not an independent hotshot pilot. So, for the next few weeks, we will discuss the Tullizor's attack tactics and get to practice fighting them in our simulators–"
"What about flying the fighters?" Doug interrupted, which earned him a scowl from Bradley.
"You will also be given flight instruction during this stage of your training. This stage is also pass or fail. This is not college where a 'B', 'C', or 'D' is a passing grade. You are training for War, and we can't afford anything but the best." This time his look fell on Carl and Doug. "You have been warned."
The first week, we concentrated on the Tullizor's fighters and their typical tactics. In general, I thought the Tullizor treated the Anixia like amateurs and attacked in formations like a disciplined Roman army using a Greek-style phalanx of four lines, with the least experienced in the first line, with the last line their best pilots. Originally, that had proved a disaster for the Anixia forces, which lost their fighters and eventually their cruiser. Over the last thirty years, with the addition of Earth's immigrants and improved fighters, Anixia still suffered more losses than the Tullizor but were closing the gap, which still meant heavy losses. The average fighter pilot's life expectancy was less than five encounters with a Tullizor cruiser. Even with the improved fighter performance, the cruiser life span was also five encounters.
I left class that day wondering if I had made the right choice. Given the Tullizor appeared several times a year, even with the four Houses of War rotating, life expectancy was less than five years. Grow up, Kayla. Your previous life expectancy was a month or two at most. You are enjoying life; that is enough. So don't fret about tomorrow, I chided myself and felt better.
"All right, Kayla. Today is your first time flying a fighter," Bradley said. "I will handle starting the engine, but after that, you will get to practice." As he finished, the fighter was accelerated forward, Bradley had the engine online in less than five seconds and quickly increased our elevation to ten kilometers. Then my console lit. "You now have control, Kayla."
Scanning the console, I noted our speed at Mach 2, elevation at ten kilometers, and all systems functional. Since Bradley hadn't given me any instructions, I decided I was free to experiment. I moved the acceleration to Mach 4, then back to Mach 2, moved the fighter to the right–a little too quickly–then back to the left, did a loop, and finally attempted a roll, which caused a spin instead. Instead of panicking, I giggled and pulled the joystick back, which resulted in a corkscrew motion. Finally, I eased the joystick back to center, and the roll stopped before Brad could comment. I pulled us into a reverse roll, tried pushing for a decrease in elevation, which also resulted in another corkscrew motion. When I had it straight again, I sighed.
"Happy?" Bradley asked.
"Ecstatic," I replied, smiling.
"Are you ever going to fly straight?" he said, with a hint of amusement.
"Why? Anyone can do that." I grinned. He
proceeded to coach me through basic defensive maneuvers, even a one hundred eighty-degree flight through the crack in the mountain he had done on my first introduction flight.
"That's enough, Kayla," he said, trying to look disgusted. "I guess I'm going to have to resign myself to you being a Saker fighter pilot. You are having far too much fun. You have learned what I plan to teach everyone over the next two to three weeks."
"How did the flight go, Kayla?" Todd asked later that day as he waited for his turn.
"Fantastic," I said with a happy smile and felt like dancing. I hope we each get our own fighter. I want to name mine and paint something on it…like the old spitfires."
"I assume that means your first flight went well? Todd said, smiling back. "Well then, you will be pleased to learn that each of us will be assigned a specific fighter. Anything I should know?"
"No. It's a get-acquainted date with your new best friend," I said, thinking he was as crazy as me. "Just have fun."
Hanna and Hyun were already in our room when I arrived back. "How is cruiser training?" I asked.
"We have another choice to make," Hyun said with some frustration. "There are four positions on the Bridge, excluding the captain: navigation, weapons, countermeasures or ECM, and pilot. Captains are actually made by the Anixia House of War. I'm getting a fried brain having to make all these decisions," she held her head with both hands, "and in the end, the Anixians can ignore my choices."
"Quit your whining," I said and grinned. "What did you pick?"
"Navigation," Hanna said. "I want to make sure we don't jump into the wrong universe."
"Countermeasures," Hyun said. "I want to make sure Hanna has a ship to get us home."
"That is an interesting question," I said. "How often do we leave this system, and from a fighter pilot's perspective, can a fighter pilot survive if the cruiser is destroyed in the Anixia system, i.e., does the fighter have the fuel and speed to make it back to Anixia?"
