by SF Edwards
“You’ve seen other mediums. Have they told you the color of your aura?”
“No. Never.”
“That’s because they didn’t want to see it. It scared them. Your aura is the same color as mine.”
He moved in close, shrinking down to nearly her height, as if sharing a great secret. “Is that good?”
“Yes. Were you just an animal your aura would be colorless. Yours is colored the same color as mine. That color means you have a kind heart and an artist’s soul.”
“You’re an artist?”
“No, that’s not really what it means. I’ll explain later. Can you see the orbs, at all?”
“No.”
“But you can feel them. It doesn’t take much more to see them, to open your mind to them. I can teach you how. But you have to do something for me first.”
“What?” he asked with an eager hum.
“You have to fly. You have to fly and soar like I know you can.”
“Thank you. No one’s ever said that to me before.”
“Bichard, you wouldn’t be here, wouldn’t be doing all this, if you weren’t ready to give it your all and excel. You will soar next cycle and you will surpass all your doubts. You will fly as if those wings were your own.”
Her words soothed him so much he began to sway with them as they cut to the very core of his being. “I will soar,” he repeated.
“You will amaze us all.”
He smiled that horrid smile again and she did not recoil. “Thank you, Marda.”
“You show me you can fly. You spread your wings and I will teach you to see your friends here,” she said raising her hands to the two orbs.
He nodded again. “Thank you. I see now why he loves you.”
She took a step back. “What?”
He jumped back, alert again. “What? What? What? Uh, my language of Anulian is sometimes… I, I need to go!” He skittered down the hall faster than she dared try to follow.
She stared after him dumbfounded by the realization that slammed her with those words. “He loves me.”
UCSB DATE: 1000.204
Star System: Classified, UCSBA-13, Main Hangar
For two tridecs, all their training had led up to this moment, First Flight. Blazer stared out of the lift tube’s transparent walls as they rose towards the hangar and sighed. He had to calm his nerves. He’d flown before and looking about at the others he could see the anticipation in their eyes too; standing there in their flight suits, decorated helmets in hand. Blazer smiled and looked down at his own. A picture of him, in caricature, delivering an electric shock to a Galactic Federation Solaar fighter emblazoned on it behind the silicasteel visor. The only identification the artist used, the crudely scrawled signature, “Phantom Phunny.”
Blazer looked over at Datt and saw the latest Phantom Phunny post on his macomm’s holographic screen. “I didn’t know you posted it yet.”
Datt looked over and smiled. “Gokhead helped me weave it to an anonymous stitch before I left.”
Everyone pulled out their macomms in response. It was just what he wanted, a little stress relief for all of them through Datt’s unsigned comics. Suppressed laughter rang out through the platform when the others gazed upon the offering. The 3-D image featured a dozen cadets with authority sticks chasing the Command Sgt-Major.
“If he ever finds out I draw these he’ll kill me,” Datt remarked.
Blazer smiled at the cartoon. “You’ll be fine. Everyone who knows is keeping your identity secret, and I hear that Sergeant Major Mir found the last one of him funny. Did you get the helmets off OK?”
Datt nodded. “Treb dropped them off at the lost and found bin in the dorms before we left. I know a couple of them have first flight after us and I don’t want them to go out with borrowed lids.”
“Good to hear. Anyone see you, Treb?”
Treb shook his head. “I’ve been doing this going on a tridec. I know the security guards’ routines so I won’t get caught. I really loved that one from Chertsin’s squad. Think he’ll get the joke?”
Datt smiled. The subtle joke he inserted in the art was a direct jab at Chertsin. “I hope not. Oh, the drop point for this cycle is the equipment bin near drill field three. Can someone help us get them?”
Arion raised his hand before the hangar eclipsed the view outside the tube. “It’s my turn. I’ll grab them.”
Blazer’s anticipation peaked when the pad slowed to a stop on the first level of the hangar facility and the group jumped off. They headed over to join the rest of the squadron gathered near Joda along with another full squadron of cadets. Blazer and the others shuffled along to avoid launching off the deck in the lower gravity this close to centerline. Approaching, he took note of how Joda spoke to the other cadets with more animation than the Monstero Nach were used to seeing from their instructor.
Blazer found it odd that Joda barely acknowledged their squadron’s approach. When the last of them fell into rank, however, Joda spun about to look at them. He looked them up and down before motioning to the rows of cadets behind him. “The cadets behind me are senior level. They will act as your in-cockpit instructors for your lessons this cycle.”
Blazer and the others looked at the cadets arrayed before them. Though they were only a few annura older than him, he couldn’t believe the confidence they carried about themselves.
“If you look at your craft you will notice that each of them is a single-seat model. However, each is equipped with a RCOS unit. The RCOS will allow your instructors to take control of your craft in order to demonstrate a maneuver or to get you out of trouble should the need arise.”
Blazer stole a quick glance at the half cylinder antenna mounted behind the cockpit.
“For the past tridec you have been embroiled in theory and simulation with some of you having only just completed that coursework. Other squadrons have already been flying for half a decle.”
I wondered if he would bring that up. He glanced about and could see the guilt in the eyes of the handful that took longer to get the hang of things in the simulator. The shame in their eyes, that they had held the others back, all but radiated.
“You are, however, well in the average range in terms of making first flight. You have your fighter assignments. Now preflight your craft. Your instructors will accompany you to ensure you perform your checks properly before they proceed to their control pods. Dismissed!”
Blazer’s hearts leapt when the group turned about and broke formation to head to their craft. As he crossed paths with his friends, he gave them reassuring pats on the back and wished each of them good luck. One of the instructor cadets caught up to him by landing with practiced grace beside him in the low gravity.
“Are you Vaughnt?”
Blazer nodded and turned to his instructor.
“My name’s Temblin, of Temblor Squadron. We’re the best attack squadron here. Now let’s get on with the walk around and get you into the dark.”
Blazer couldn’t agree more. Reaching the trainer, Blazer pulled out his father’s old macomm and selected the preflight checklist. Anticipation filled him when his instructor stole a glance at the device asking, “Where did you get that old relic?”
Blazer sighed and made his way around the fighter. “Why does everyone ask me that? Look, I know it’s not as capable or as small or as advanced as the newer models we were issued but I just happen to like it more and I like how robust it is.”
His instructor laughed and palmed his own old-style macomm out. “I know what you mean. I have one that’s a generation after that model and I’m just surprised to see another one like it.”
Both Blazer and Temblin started at the nose of the fighter, inspecting the main sensor and thruster cluster. He made his way back to the reverse thrust exhaust in the leading edge of the wing. Blazer checked out the inactive clamshell doors. With the power off, he was able to pry them open to inspect the magnetic controls that vector the plasma exhaust. Above and below the reverse
thrusters, Blazer inspected the intake grilles for the stellar hydrogen scoops. They were cold now, but once he got the engines running they would also radiate away waste heat.
Satisfied, Blazer slid under the craft and inspected the main Plasma Laser cannon pack nestled against the fighter’s belly. Blazer scooted along the underside checking the landing gear, internal missile launcher hatch, and under wing hard points before sliding out and examining the Electron Particle Cannon embedded mid-wing. Standing, he checked off that each was safe, secured, and deactivated. Blazer and his instructor then made their way around the drooped wing tip. He examined the sensor pod and thrusters before checking the atmospheric control surfaces of the cranked arrow delta wing.
Good he’s not a big talker, Blazer considered and pushed himself up to examine the docking locks on the top of the engine. I just hope that means I’m doing it right. He looked into the locks and made sure they were free of debris. Turning around, he checked the vertical stabilizer and sensor pod before sliding back to the deck to check the engine exhaust and maneuvering ring. All but finished with the left side, he checked the maneuvering thrusters on the tail and closed an access hatch that had been left open. Then he repeated the process on the right side of the fighter to complete the inspection.
Blazer took one look at his instructor’s bored expression and decided he had to do something to impress the man. After he clicked off the last step on the checklist, he hopped off the deck. With the skill of a veteran EVA astronaut, he grabbed hold of the canopy frame of his cockpit and swung into his seat. Temblin let out a low whistle before he tossed Blazer his helmet. He motioned over his shoulder towards a row of offices along the inner wall of the hangar. “Nice move. I’m going to head over to the RCOS Control Center. Good luck!”
Blazer didn’t even have a chance to say thanks before his instructor vaulted backwards across the low gravity deck. He watched the man spin about in midflight and land with practiced ease before he bounded off towards his station. And I thought I was showing off.
Blazer slipped down into his seat and waited--his pulse racing. He twisted his helmet around in his hands, looking about at the other cadets around him. Several were finishing their own preflight checks while others waited in their cockpits. Blazer took a deep breath and pulled his helmet on. After locking it onto the sealing ring in his flight suit, he felt the air rush into the helmet from the fighter’s internal supply. He breathed again and sat back into his seat. Blazer felt his life support pack snap into the restraint plugs embedded in the seat behind him and leaned forward. The safety straps tugged at him but didn’t restrict his movement. Sitting back, he finished attaching the rest of his seat harness.
Blazer sighed when he connected the last buckle and found his instructor’s face on his screen. “OK, cadet. Let’s get onto the startup checklist and get you into the launch tube.”
Blazer nodded and the two of them worked their way through the list.
Blazer finished to the point of engine start and Joda’s helmeted face appeared on the main screen pushing Cadet Temblin’s aside. “All cadets, as you complete your initial checklists, check in with me and proceed to the launch tubes.”
“You heard the man,” Blazer’s instructor replied after Joda’s image disappeared.
“I’m on it,” Blazer responded keying the outside link button, Temblin staying on a hot mike the entire time. Blazer released the key and dropped his helmet into his hand. Oh frag, what’s Joda’s callsign this flight? After a moment, he perked up and rekeyed the link switch. “Monstero Nach Zero Zero. Monstero Nach Zero Three. How copy? Over.”
Joda’s face reappeared on the screen a moment later. “Nach Zero Three. Nach Zero Zero. I read you loud and clear. What is your status?”
“Nach Zero Zero. Nach Zero Three. Checklist is complete. Ready for taxi.”
“Copy Zero Three. Contact deck control for clearance.”
“Confirmed, sir. Zero Three out.” Blazer sighed and switched over to the deck control frequency as other cadets began to check in--their signals little more than background noise. “Launch Control, Nach Zero Three, requesting.”
“Nach Zero Three. Launch Control. Go ahead.”
“Requesting taxi clearance to launch tube three alph,” Blazer requested, checking his assignment.
“Copy, Nach Zero Three. You are cleared to taxi to launch tube three alph.”
Blazer felt a moment’s relief and looked forward to the launch tubes. They were arrayed three deep all along the circumference of the hangar floor with enough available to launch several squadrons at once.
Blazer’s hand tingled as he fingered a control on his throttle, pressing it forward a hair. The de-grav generators in the landing skids responded in kind and pushed the fighter up off the deck by half a metra. A moment later and their influence angled to guide the fighter forward. The de-grav generators did not give sufficient thrust to make a craft fly. They were essential for use in confined spaces; the plasma and ion exhausts of any fighter’s engines and maneuvering thrusters provided too great a risk.
Blazer looked on in confusion as he proceeded along the taxi lines towards the launch tubes. Why am I drifting? He almost halted his advance in response but seeing a smirk on his instructor’s face, realized his mistake. Gritting his teeth Blazer corrected for the spin of the academy around him. “Why don’t they just program the flight control computer to self-compensate,” Blazer muttered to himself.
“It’s to teach you,” Temblin replied. “Combat models do it automatically after analyzing the spin of a centrifugal gravity facility. But, you are required to learn how to do it manually just in case. Believe me, I hated it too, but you never know.”
Blazer shook his head. Unnecessary.
Blazer passed the first row of launch tubes and made his way toward his destination. Looking to the side, he watched others do the same. Feeling a little clever, Blazer did not even turn for the approach to his launch tube and side-slipped his fighter over. Using the holographic display in his cockpit, he lined up square with the closed hatch before settling his fighter back to the deck.
“Launch Control, Nach Zero Three, I am in position at Launch Tube Three Alph.”
“Nach Zero Three, Launch Control. We copy. Stand by.”
Blazer only had to wait for a moment before the hatch slid away revealing the dimly lit tunnel within. He almost leapt out of his skin when a skeletal metallic arm and claw emerged from the darkness and reached out towards him. The simulator version of the docking claw looked nothing like the actual unit with cables and lines hanging off like rotten veins and tendons. Blazer watched with trepidation as the claw reached over his head and descended. He jumped in his seat when the sound of the docking latches closing reverberated through the fighter. The claw lifted the fighter off the deck and pulled it back into the darkness.
Blazer swallowed hard as the walls of the launch tube closed in around him. Steeling his nerves, he reached up and tapped the control to retract his landing gear. With a soft whine, the three struts folded away and then the skids clicked into place closing off the skin of the fighter. The launch arm snapped into place in the tube, pointing the fighter down the length of the kilometras-long chute. Blazer wished he could rub his eyes when he stared down into the darkness. The faint amber lights of the tunnel were the only illumination after the hatch closed behind him.
He breathed in the darkness for a moment looking around and tried to get his bearings before a sigh and a tapping from his link drew him back to his main screen. His instructor and the next set of pre-launch checklists awaited him. Nodding, Blazer set back to work and completed the final checks. Setting his engines to standby, the Sensor Imaging System in his cockpit sprang to life. Every surface in the cockpit seemed to disappear with the activation of the holographic screens that offered him an unobstructed view in all directions. He suppressed the panic that bubbled up in response when the darkness closed in all around him and waited for launch.
The link cr
ackled back to life and the launch controller’s voice filled his cockpit. “Monstero Nach, Flight One. Prepare for launch.”
That’ll be Seri, Deniv and Datt. When did Joda say he would launch, or did he launch before the rest of us? He heard a loud thump as the first group launched. All three fighters propelled out of their tubes within a centipulse apart.
“Monstero Nach, Flight Two. Prepare for launch.”
That would be Trevis’ flight of three. He felt their launch much more than the first due to their set of tubes being located right next to his.
“Monstero Nach, Flight Three. Prepare to launch.”
That was his flight and Blazer steeled his nerves, flexing his hands on his controls and reading the launch countdown hovering in front of him.
Blazer licked his suddenly dry lips when the launch arm slid backwards, dragging the fighter back to the top of the tube. A new launch controller’s voice came over the link as the countdown approached zero.
“Launching in three, two, one, go!” At once, the brakes holding the launch arm disengaged and the catapult fired with two gs of force. The spin of the academy added to the acceleration as he sped down the tube. The lights zipped past, each one faster than the last. A light winked to life on Blazer’s console and he threw his throttle full forward in response. The engines flared behind, twin columns of plasma lighting up the tunnel behind him as the doors at the end of the tube snapped open. Blazer could just make out the hazy grey of the asteroid shell. A few lights and stars were visible amongst the cloud of rocks, dust and ice. Blazer felt more than heard the docking claws disengage before the launch arm fell behind.
UCSBA-13, Monstero Nach 03
A moment later, he was free in open space. The launch tube was a minor speck behind him as he sped away from the academy. He looked around and marveled at the view. It had been far too long since he’d seen naked space and looking back he watched the other two fighters in his flight join up with him. Arion pulled his fighter in below and to his right rear while Gokhead pulled in high and on his left rear in a standard, three-ship formation.
