CassaStar

by Cavanaugh, Alex J.

  Bassa was still staring at the screen, and Byron found his gaze wandering to the walls. The numerous plaques of recognition reflected Bassa’s status as one of the best navigators ever to serve the fleet. The awards were many and Byron absently wondered why he would give it all up to be an instructor.

  His eyes dropped to the desk. Byron noticed the picture frame, turned just enough for viewing, and frowned at the image. The young man in the photo could have been his twin. The eyes were closer together, but the shape of his face resembled his own, as did the jet black hair. The similarity was uncanny and Byron fidgeted in his seat. His movement caught Bassa’s attention.

  “So, you do not agree with my assessment of your flight today?” the senior officer inquired, leaning away from his desk.

  Byron suspected the question to be a test, and his future on Guaard might depend on his answer. However, tact was not his strong suit. He was not about to back down from his convictions now.

  “No, sir, I do not,” he replied.

  Cocking one eyebrow, Bassa regarded the young pilot with interest. “Elaborate.”

  “I was within regulation distance, sir,” Byron stated with force. “At no time was either ship in danger. We relayed our intentions, performed the maneuver, and neutralized both targets!”

  Bassa did not give any indication of his thoughts on the matter. Sensing he’d probably crossed the line, Byron prepared for the rebuttal.

  Bassa raised one eyebrow. “Your past history,” he said slowly, “indicates you have a problem with authority.”

  Clamping his jaws tight, lest he say something inappropriate, Byron struggled to shield his resentful thoughts. He was tired of his less-than-perfect record being thrust in his face. He managed to control his tongue and thoughts, but unfortunately he was not so quick to conceal his expression. Belatedly, Byron realized he was viewing the senior officer through slitted eyes.

  “Well, that ends right here,” Bassa proclaimed, his deep voice loud in the confines of the room. “Right now!”

  Byron did not visibly flinch, but he knew that tone of voice all too well. He now stood at the brink, staring over the edge of a very deep chasm. One more step and he would cross the point of no return. Despite the anger coursing through his body, Byron did not want to lose his only opportunity.

  “Yes, sir,” he replied, conceding to the senior officer’s authority.

  Bassa stared hard at the young pilot, as if judging his sincerity. “Unless you want your records made public,” he countered.

  Byron’s eyes widened in horror. Bassa possessed the authority, but he wouldn’t dare throw open Byron’s records for the entire world to view. Judging from the senior officer’s stern expression, though, it was far from an empty threat.

  “No, sir,” Byron responded, his shoulders slumping in defeat.

  Bassa took a deep breath and leaned back even further in his chair. “I expect total compliance and obedience from those residing here on Guaard. And I expect even more from you!”

  Puzzled, Byron forced his gaze to remain steady. Bassa paused and cocked his head.

  “Do you know why, Byron?”

  “No, sir,” Byron answered, confused.

  “Because your skills in the cockpit far exceed that of the other pilots’ abilities.”

  Byron paused. That was the last answer he expected to hear.

  “I have two objectives with your training,” continued Bassa. “First, to make sure you possess the necessary discipline to master and control those skills. Second, to prevent the other pilots from attempting maneuvers of which they do not possess the necessary skills to achieve.”

  Byron could scarcely believe his ears. “Yes, sir,” he stammered.

  “My comments today were meant to discourage the other pilots from trying your trick, as they would only meet with failure.”

  Nodding, Byron took a deep breath. “So, my maneuver was not wrong, sir?”

  Bassa’s eyes narrowed. “No.”

  His mind reeling, Byron grasped at the senior officer’s assessment.

  “I have seen many exceptional pilots come through Guaard. If we can properly develop your skills, you have the potential to be one of the best. However, I will not pass an undisciplined pilot. Understood?”

  “Yes, sir!” Byron answered.

  “Now, this conversation remains here, understood?”

  “Yes, sir!”

  Bassa leaned forward in his chair. “You are dismissed.”

  Byron leapt to his feet, eager to depart. A thought occurred to him.

  “Sir?” he inquired. “How will I know when I make a real mistake?”

  The senior officer met his eyes and Byron detected the fainted trace of a smile on his lips.

  “You’ll either be dead or on your way home!”

  Chapter Four

  Byron leaned away from his computer screen, pleased by the assessment of his previous day’s flight. He and Trindel had performed well and without errors, and he looked forward to their afternoon session.

  As ordered, Byron never mentioned the discussion in Bassa’s office, not even to his navigator. He’d received several reprimands since that time, but not one resulted in a mark on his record. However, he’d endured numerous condemning comments and taunts from the other trainees. Byron had bit his tongue, fearful of Bassa’s retribution should he reveal their conversation. Byron longed to tell the truth, as it would provide an opportunity to rub his superiority in their faces.

  He suited up with the other trainees that afternoon and sensed the excitement in the room. Today’s exercise involved an all-out dogfight that would require every ship to participate. After almost four months of training and individual encounters, they would at last face a real battle.

  Trindel’s enthusiasm was obvious, and Byron hoped he could control his navigator’s nervous energy once they engaged the drones. Suppressing his own zeal, he kept his team in line during the basic maneuvers and necessary pre-encounter drills. Fortunately, they did not have long to wait.

  “Incoming!” Officer Char’s voice boomed over the com.

  A large mass of drones appeared on the radar. Byron made visual contact with the approaching ships and realized they were a far greater force than the squadron. He felt his pulse quicken as they prepared to engage.

  The instructor relayed orders and Byron turned his attention to their first target. Rolling to the right, he turned to face the enemy. The approaching drones opened fire at once and the squadron split as pilots took evasive action.

  Dodging the incoming fire, Byron dove and then immediately climbed to meet his intended target. The drone banked to the left, and he pursued with earnest, surprised the ship would take the defensive position. The triumph was short-lived, though. Trindel announced that another drone approached from the rear.

  Without hesitation, Byron halted their forward progress. He swung their Cosbolt around to face the attacker. Simulated laser blasts flew over their ship as the drone opened fire. Adjusting his sights, Byron returned the gesture. His second shot struck the drone and neutralized the ship.

  There was no time to gloat. Trindel updated him on their current situation. Their original target had circled and was preparing to engage. Byron turned his attention to the incoming drone and calculated their best plan of attack. Loath to take the defensive position, he flew straight at the ship and opened fire. Their target took evasive action and Byron throttled forward in pursuit.

  Their quarry led the team on a wild chase. Byron’s navigator kept him informed of the position of the other ships, lest a new drone engage in the chase. All fighters and enemy ships appeared occupied at the moment, though. Byron remained focused on their target, unwilling to be so easily shaken.

  The drone pulled to the right as if to skirt around an incapacitated ship. The movement seemed wrong to Byron, though. Rather than follow the drone, he pulled back and sent their Cosbolt on a steep climb. He sensed Trindel’s mental exclamation, although he uttered not a sound. Abrup
tly, he forced the ship to dive. Trindel flashed him the location of the drone and Byron grasped the throttle in anticipation.

  Their target emerged from underneath the lifeless Cosbolt, angled to climb. Before the drone had an opportunity, Byron released one single shot. Without the need to fire another, he neutralized their target.

  Damn good! Trindel’s exuberant thought echoed in his mind.

  Byron allowed himself a brief smile of satisfaction. Get me back in the action!

  Trindel guided him toward the heat of the battle. They noted several disabled drones, and a couple Cosbolts dotted the battlefield as well. Seeking another target, Byron had no time to contemplate the fate of those who’d failed so quickly today. Trindel scanned for the next drone and he indicated a possible opportunity to his pilot. Byron noted the Cosbolt approaching at a dangerous speed, a drone following close on its tail. An idea struck him.

  Tell them when to yield, Byron instructed, flying the ship directly at their incoming comrades.

  Trindel seemed to grasp the plan and relayed the information to the other ship’s navigator. Byron throttled forward at top speed. The fleeing Cosbolt approached and collision appeared imminent. Byron held his breath, waiting for just the precise moment.

  The incoming ship veered, providing Byron a clean shot. He fired, the blast neutralizing the drone, and initiated a jump at once to avoid impact with the disabled target. As he teleported, Trindel informed him of another drone in pursuit of a training vessel.

  Their ship emerged on the fringes of the battle, and Byron felt relief that his navigator’s sense of placement in space was so accurate. He did not pause to relish their success. Catching sight of Vitar’s ship, his attention shifted to the drone on his tail. Byron at once set off in pursuit.

  It’s not giving us a clear shot, Trindel thought as they chased the vessels.

  No, it’s not, Byron replied, swinging wide. Their angle still did not provide a safe opportunity for engaging the drone, as it was too close to the Cosbolt.

  Damn! he exclaimed. Give me coordinates to jump in from the side.

  Can you do it?

  Yes.

  Trindel relayed the information. Byron acted upon it without hesitation. The teleporter vibrated in response and the view outside the cockpit altered. The drone ship was about to cross their path and Byron prepared to fire.

  Another Cosbolt appeared just off their nose. The occupants of the ship echoed panic as they attempted evasive actions. Byron realized their forward progress meant that a collision was inevitable.

  Without consulting Trindel, he jumped the ship. They reappeared a short distance away and facing the depths of space. His navigator expressed shock and Byron had to admit the abrupt jump surprised him as well. Gathering his wits, he requested their present location as he spun around the ship. Trindel’s response was shaky but prompt.

  Vitar and his pursuer are coming straight at us, he indicated.

  Byron observed their comrade’s ship and decided to follow through with his original intentions. Tell them to yield at the last moment as well, he ordered, throttling forward.

  Holding his breath, Byron flew at Vitar’s ship. He sensed Trindel’s rising concern of a close encounter. Byron assured his navigator of their success, though.

  Vitar exhibited nerves of steel and waited until the last possible moment to pull left. Receiving a clear shot, Byron fired at the drone. His aim was perfect, but their close proximity provided no opportunity for evasive action. Within that split moment, Byron made a decision. Before Trindel could respond, he teleported the ship.

  Emerging at their previous jump location, Byron breathed a sigh of relief. His team had neutralized four targets today with no sustained damage. As the ship spun around, he realized that would be their final count. The battle was almost over and the last drone faced annihilation. After the intensity of the fight, Byron hoped his team had scored the most kills.

  How did you do that? exclaimed Trindel in amazement.

  Do what? The jump? Byron asked, contemplating the question. His answer was cut short, though.

  “715T, return to formation at once!”

  The voice over the com was Bassa’s and he sounded furious. Byron felt his stomach sink. What had they done wrong now?

  That didn’t sound encouraging, Trindel noted, his solemn thought tinged with concern.

  Irritation rising in his chest, Byron clenched his fists. “Damn!” he muttered under his breath.

  Spirits dampened, his team returned to the squadron. The remaining drone was neutralized and the trainees assumed formation. Facing the scene of the battle, Byron noted three Cosbolts drifting among the lifeless drones. After a moment, power returned to the ships. The downed teams slowly joined the squadron while the drones proceeded toward the base. Byron hoped the three ships who’d failed to evade the drones would receive the brunt of Bassa’s wrath. He still had no idea what error he and Trindel had committed.

  Too many jumps? Trindel offered as they returned to base.

  They were all successful, though!

  Trindel said no more. Byron’s irritation continued to grow as they proceeded to land and taxi into the hanger. A couple of the men commented on his team’s kills, but Byron’s sullen mood discouraged further conversation. Retreating to the debriefing room, he dropped into his chair with incredible force and fumed in silence as the others joined him.

  The officers did not enter until all of the trainees were present. One look at Bassa’s angry expression and Byron’s defenses rose in anticipation. This session would not be pleasant.

  Officer Rellen gestured to Morden, and the instructor stepped forward. He glanced at his computer pad before scanning the room.

  “Your first major battle was not without mistakes,” began Morden, his tone grim, “including three downed ships. Fortunately, all drones were neutralized within an acceptable period of time. Several teams had multiple kills, and Byron and Trindel possessed the highest total with four …”

  “With a matching four jumps,” interjected Bassa, his loud voice commanding everyone’s attention. “And that is unacceptable!”

  Byron felt his face flush with anger and embarrassment. “All four jumps were successful, sir,” he protested.

  “You were damned lucky!” the senior officer retorted. “We’ve repeatedly informed you of the dangers of multiple jumps, as your teleporter will fail with such misuse. Two successive jumps drain the element. You failed to give the teleporter time to recharge before jumping again. Those last two jumps were pure luck, and you never rely on luck!”

  His words vibrated the walls of the room, punctuated by the fury emanating from the senior officer. Byron’s jaw was tight as he held back the ugly words that rose to his lips. He could not lose his temper now. Beside him, Trindel shifted in his seat.

  “Sir, if I may?” Byron’s navigator offered.

  “I don’t want to hear it!” exclaimed Bassa, effectively silencing Trindel. “You are to report to my office the moment we finish here.”

  Consumed with fury, Byron paid little notice to the remainder of the debriefing. He had no doubt his team would receive their first mark today. While the successive jumps pushed the limit, not one had met with failure. It angered Byron that they would be punished despite their success. It annoyed him even more that their perfect record would now be tainted.

  His attention returned when the instructor covered the incident that led to their third jump. It was but a small consolation that Byron and Trindel were not at fault, as Kernse’s team was responsible for the ill-timed jump that placed both ships in danger. While this removed some of the blame for their third teleporting attempt, it did not excuse the fourth jump. The ensuing lecture from Officer Morden irritated Byron further, although it would pale in comparison to what awaited his team in Bassa’s office.

  The senior officer’s gaze only strayed from the pair when he berated the three failed teams. His senses were not required to detect the growing fury in Byron,
as the boy’s expression revealed his emotions without question. Bassa did not allow the young man’s resentment to alter his judgment, though. The pair would receive a berating that would occupy their thoughts for a long time.

  When the debriefing drew to an end, Bassa exited without reiterating his instructions. Still furious with Byron’s team for their blatant disregard for protocol and safety, he retreated to his office to await the young men. He’d been patient with Byron thus far, going out of his way to ensure the boy’s skills were properly developed while ignoring his more daring antics. However, today’s reckless stunt would not go unpunished.

  When the chime announced his visitors, Bassa bellowed for Byron and Trindel to enter. The young men complied, and he noted their expressions at once. Trindel appeared pale, his eyes filled with apprehension, but Byron’s face revealed indignation and defiance. This did not settle well with the senior officer and his fury was renewed.