by Jerry Aubin
“Good morning, cadets. I know many of you worried this day would never come, and for thirty of your classmates it never did. After thousands of hours in the simulator, this is finally the day. Today you will fly. In space. You have nearly reached what, for most of you, will be the absolute pinnacle of your career. We have spent the past month building the chairs you see in front of you. Your chair will be yours as long as you remain in this Academy, and if you graduate it will serve you as long as you remain alive. If you are ever killed in action, your chair will become your coffin when we honor your service and bury you in it. You will float in its embrace for eternity.”
Kalare’s heart quickened. She took repeated deep breaths in an effort to calm herself. The major continued.
“Today’s exercise is simple. All of you can do this with your eyes closed or you would already be gone. You’ll be flying solo. No WSOs since this is just a flight test with no weapons. Load up. Launch. Each squadron form up at your rally point, and then perform the maneuvers your instructors described yesterday while maintaining attack formation. Finally, return to the Ship. Are you ready?”
Seventy cadets unleashed full-throated roars. “Ma’am, yes, ma’am!”
Eryn smiled. “Good. Maverick—you have the honor of going first.”
At the major’s signal Kalare turned toward her chair. Most of her classmates were shocked that Kalare had held the Maverick call sign for almost the entirety of the year it was awarded. She often cared little about what happened in the classroom, so her Academy standings would fluctuate wildly depending on how interested she was in any given day’s topic. Operating a fighter, though, was her natural habitat. Almost since the moment she slipped into the cockpit of that mecha during training with Zax, Kalare knew her future lay at the controls of a war machine. Flying the simulator during her Academy training was amazing, but this would finally be the real deal. There was only one problem.
Kalare couldn’t breathe.
A technician stood next to her chair and gestured for Kalare to approach, but her feet were stuck to the deck and her mind flooded by a jumble of memories. Two girls floating in space outside a panorama. A beautiful young face frozen for eternity in a terrified scream. Warm urine washing over her legs.
Kalare once told Zax she never wanted to be a pilot because of the pain surrounding her experience with two fellow cadets who lost their lives in a hull breach years earlier. She had initially swallowed her terror and entered the Pilot Academy to stand by her friend as he sought information about Mikedo’s death. Her fears eventually receded, and Kalare ultimately stuck with the training because she developed a true fervor for it.
Why did Major Eryn have to make that comment about floating in space with your chair as a coffin? Kalare had experienced only passion for flying for months without a single twinge of apprehension. She stood on the precipice of true flight. Fear would not invalidate her accomplishments.
Kalare fought to breathe deeply.
Success!
Again…
Success again!
The first two deep breaths were followed by three more and then her muscles finally unlocked. Kalare worried that her internal drama had lasted for mins and was noticed by all, but it had actually taken mere secs and almost everyone around the compartment had noticed nothing amiss. Except for Major Eryn. The major appraised Kalare knowingly, but the Omega’s stoic look hid whatever feelings she might have. Kalare approached the technician.
“Cadet—please remove your clothes.”
Kalare removed her pants and shirt to reveal the flight suit she had received yesterday. The suit was another piece of customized gear that optimized the interface between her body and the chair. She pulled its hood over her head and it adjusted against her scalp. A series of metal contact points were studded from the top of her skull to the base of her spine. A slight squeeze by the suit aligned all of them properly and prepared them to mate with the corresponding sensors in the chair. She was ready. She could do this. She sat in her chair and took one last deep breath.
The next sensation was beyond anything Kalare might have imagined. They had repeatedly simulated the process of transferring one’s consciousness into a fighter during training, but the simulation was no substitute for the real thing. One moment Kalare was focused on the uncomfortable tightness of her flight suit around her neck, the next all traces of the suit had disappeared as if she was naked. The feeling was at once wildly disorienting and incredibly liberating. She somehow floated on air at the same time she was solidly grounded to the fighter which had sprung into existence beneath her.
A quick glance confirmed that everything was where she expected it to be in the cockpit, and she ran her preflight checklist. Her craft was green across the board. It was ready. She was ready. The voice of the Launch Controller broke the silence.
“Maverick—are you go for launch?”
Kalare replied, “Maverick is go for launch.”
On those words a deep hum rumbled beneath the fighter, and Kalare recognized the EMALS spooling up. In a few secs she would be part of an impossibly fast projectile as the system electromagnetically launched her craft into space. The noise was a perfect match for the simulator, but the vibration it created in her virtual belly was wonderfully new.
Three.
Two.
One.
The immense rush of the EMALS shook Kalare to her core. Her body wasn’t there, but nonetheless she experienced a sudden, intense acceleration that took her breath away. This is what it was like to be fired out the chamber of a gun! Starlight shone through the rapidly approaching launch portal ahead of her.
Now it was her turn.
Now she would fly.
15
Kalare's your friend, right?
Zax held his breath as the fighter shot out of the launch tube into space. His threat board labeled the craft with the pilot’s call sign—Maverick. Kalare’s call sign. Zax was both thrilled for his friend and wildly jealous that she got to experience the milestone first. The only positive aspect of being a year behind her at the Academy was they weren’t competing directly. The top spot was available to both of them at the same time. He was lost for a moment thinking about the exhilaration and excitement she must be feeling until the Boss’s voice dragged Zax back to Flight Ops.
“For those of you who might not be aware, Maverick today is none other than Cadet Kalare who runs Flight. I’ve worked with Kalare for the past year and it’s great to see her first launch today as Maverick for her class.”
The Boss cut in next over Zax’s Plug.
“I hear congratulations are in order for you today as well, Zax. Major Eryn was quite shocked when you beat out that boy she’s mentoring. Well done. There has never been any doubt you’d be great once you set your mind straight and got on the right path. You might be a little jealous that Kalare is out there first. Keep doing what you’re doing, don’t sabotage yourself again with anything silly, and it will be your turn soon enough.”
Zax churned through a million possible replies. He kept it simple.
“Thank you, sir.”
He began to stew over the Boss’s dismissive reference to what had transpired between them a year earlier, but a sec later Zax’s fuming was interrupted.
“Hey, cadet—why do I recognize the name Kalare?”
Was it really possible that Rege hadn’t recognized he was working alongside another cadet he terrorized during the Revolution? He had been with her briefly that fateful day, but she was just one of the dozens of Crew held hostage in Engineering. They never used proper names in Flight Ops, only station names, so this was the first time her name had been spoken aloud in his presence.
When the civilian gave the order to kill Kalare months earlier, he had only known who she was because of Zax’s reaction to hearing her name. He wouldn’t make the same mistake this time. He stared blankly at Rege and shrugged his shoulders.
Zax returned his attention to the threat board. The fighters ha
d launched, and the squadrons had dispersed to their separate rally points for their formation maneuvers. One of the pilots in Kalare’s squadron was having a tough time adjusting and proved unable to hold a straight line. How was it possible for someone who had spent so much time in a simulator to look so bad once they were on the stick of an actual craft? Was the experience really that different given the immersiveness of the simulators?
“Of course! How could I forget? Kalare’s your friend, right? The one I ordered killed right before the Boss handed everything over to us. She didn’t die? How did I miss out on that interesting nugget of information?”
Zax’s adrenalin spiked and he reacted on autopilot.
“Nope—she lived! Your goons did their best to kill a defenseless cadet, but they were unable to finish the job. What a shock considering the fine bunch of military geniuses you otherwise seemed to be!”
The insults hung between them. Rege stared at him impassively while Zax returned his gaze with defiance. He shouldn’t reward the civilian with the satisfaction of getting under his skin. He had meekly suffered the man’s barbs and insults for months and discretion suggested he should continue that approach. Screw that! Zax was forced to swallow whatever the Boss dished out, but there was no good reason for him to turn away from the greasy civilian’s abuse. He continued to stare the man down until an exclamation from Flight broke the spell.
“Boss—impact alert! Two birds collided at extreme velocity!”
A cloud of debris swirled on Zax’s board, and he marveled at how the fighters involved in the crash had disintegrated. There were two fewer transponders broadcasting and that further signaled a serious crash. Collisions happened frequently enough with new pilots, but they usually sent the spacecraft involved back to the hangar for some minor repairs. Zax had never seen damage serious enough to silence one transponder much less two during a training exercise.
Wait—this was Kalare’s squadron. One of the missing transponders was hers! Zax took a deep breath. He had to do his job.
“Boss—two transponders have gone dark.” Zax sent an additional communication over their private channel. ”Sir—one of them is Kalare’s.”
The Boss paused for a moment and then looked at Zax as he calmly spoke.
“OK, everyone. You know the drill. Get me a SAR bird out there ASAP. There’s no way those two fighters collided so hard they damaged their cores. Let’s get our pilots back safe and sound. Flight—while we wait for the search and rescue teams to retrieve the two cadets, please review what happened so we can figure out if one of them did something stupid enough to get dismissed from the Academy.”
Zax appreciated the Boss’s subtle reassurances about Kalare’s safety. It was true that a training accident had never resulted in the death of a pilot while Zax had been involved with Flight Ops, but it was also accurate that he had never seen such a violent collision produce such destructive results. His heartbeat continued to accelerate and even the launch of the search and rescue craft failed to calm Zax’s worries.
“Hey cadet—I know I’m still new to all of this complicated threat board stuff, and I’m sure no military genius, but I think I’ve managed to figure out which pilots were involved in that big old collision out there. One of them had the call sign Maverick. Isn’t that the same call sign the Boss mentioned a few mins ago was your friend? What’s her name again—Kalare?”
Rege stared at him with an expression which positively dripped malice. Zax struggled to retain his composure. The civilian would not get a rise out of him again. Zax turned away as Flight spoke to the compartment.
“Bad news, Boss. SAR found one of the cores and it was breached so we’ve got a KIA. Not sure which pilot it is yet. Stand by.”
“What does a core breach mean, cadet? Isn’t the core where the pilot’s consciousness is stored? I thought I read somewhere that it’s filled with some kind of biological material—like an artificial brain of some sort. Does a breach mean one of those pilots was killed in action and her brain is leaking out into space? That sure sounds horrible, don’t you think? Are you afraid it’s your friend, Kalare? You must be sick with worry thinking it’s your friend. Why are you turning red like that, cadet? Did I say something to make you upset? I’d hate if something I said made you upset.”
Zax flew out of his chair and pushed the civilian out of his seat onto the deck. He stood over the man with his fists balled in white-knuckled fury. Rege met his eyes with a grin and didn’t flinch as Zax raged at him over his Plug.
“I’m glad I killed your brother, you oxygen thief! That blade of yours was perfect for slipping into the back of his neck. You should have seen his eyes go wide as he clawed at his throat like there was something he could do to save himself!”
“Zax—stand down! You’re dismissed. Return to your quarters. Scan—move to the threat board. No way I’m betting our safety on a rookie civilian.”
Zax feared pressing his luck with the Boss yet again, but walking away was an admission of defeat. He continued to glare at Rege as the civilian’s eyes narrowed to slits and his smug expression transformed into something different. Something much, much darker. After a few beats, Zax turned and stormed out of the compartment.
Why did he let the civilian get the better of him? And why did he lie about killing the man’s brother? Zax had put himself directly into Rege’s crosshairs for no good reason. He was fifty paces down the passageway and still chiding himself when a message came in from the Boss.
“Zax—they found Kalare’s core. She’s fine. I don’t know what the hell that was between you and that civilian, but I’m disappointed you allowed him to get you worked up like that. Take the rest of the day to get your head straight and be certain you can prevent anything like that from ever happening again.”
He wanted to scream. He wanted to call out the Boss for assigning Rege to be his mini. But Zax was determined to learn from losing control of his emotions and paused instead. The Omega might not even be aware of the history with Rege. After all, the officer hadn’t been in the compartment when the civilian tormented Zax about the prospect of butchering Kalare. The man had no reason to know about Rege’s behavior, so he most likely didn’t. Zax took a final deep breath and replied as he prepared to enter the Tube.
“Yes, sir. My apologies for the inappropriate behavior, sir. It won’t happen again.”
16
I understand your predicament.
“Enter.”
Imair leaned back as the Boss came through the hatch. She gestured for him to take a seat and then closed her book and pushed it off to the side next to the half-eaten remains of her lunch and the bowl of fruit the stewards always kept full. He did a double-take when he noticed the book on the table and looked at her quizzically.
“What are you doing with that relic, ma’am?”
“I’m enjoying some ancient history.”
“I understand how a book works, Madam President, and what one does with it. I’m surprised to find you handling ancient dead trees instead of using a slate.”
“Interesting you should say that, Boss, as I’m surprised myself. I’m curious about what was happening back on Earth around the time the Ship was built. I’ve combed through our digital archives and can’t find anything at all from that period of history. There’s plenty of material that’s even more ancient, like from the early twenty-first century, and tons of stuff from a few hundred years after the Ship’s launch, but I can’t find anything electronic that covers the years closest to the Ship’s creation and the earliest parts of its journey. I had to have someone dig through the physical archives for the past couple of weeks just to find this one volume. It had been mis-shelved and was mixed in with a bunch of ancient religious texts.”
“Those were difficult years, I imagine. I’m guessing that keeping historical records wasn’t at the top of the priority list. At least, not quite as high priority as saving our species. Are you a big fan of studying history, ma’am?”
“I don’t
know if I’d call myself a fan, but I do believe you can learn an awful lot from what happened previously. My favorite quote is from one of Earth’s most effective and influential statesmen. Whoever wishes to foresee the future must consult the past. There’s a lot to be learned from that quote, Boss. Don’t you agree?”
“If you say so, ma’am. I’m more inclined to look at what’s happening around me rather than bury my nose in some musty old book.”
Imair paused for a few moments to decipher whether there was any deeper meaning in the Boss’s comment. She ultimately ignored it and instead segued into why she had summoned him.
“Speaking of seeing the future, Boss, I recall telling you months ago that making Rege work side-by-side with Zax was going to end poorly. I heard things got heated between them a few hours ago. Do you have any idea what happened? Can you help me understand once again what the hell you’re thinking with that pairing? I explained their whole backstory months ago, and you jammed them together anyway.”
The Boss took a deep breath. “Ma’am—my thinking was simple and I stand by it. There are two reasons for pushing Rege and Cadet Zax into such close proximity. The most important is that Rege is one of your most trusted lieutenants, and that’s why you assigned him to Flight Ops. With that being true, I wanted him exposed to one of the most important positions on the Ship—running the threat board.”
Imair wanted to grimace at the mention of Rege being a trusted lieutenant, but she tamped her emotions down and held her expression neutral. The young man had been a fantastic resource while they planned and executed the Revolution. Unfortunately, Rege’s usefulness had dwindled in the months since. His default mode was to complain and agitate about her decisions and the compromises she was forced to make. He had valid points, particularly about the issues around living conditions for those civilians who weren’t involved in leading and running the Ship, but his unwillingness to accept short-term tradeoffs for the sake of long-term success was infuriating. The Boss continued.