Star runners, p.27
Star Runners, page 27
“Trainee!”
Austin spun around. “Yes, sir.”
Rolling stepped forward as if he sized up a prized steed, his icy blue eyes surveying Austin. “You’ve now seen your competition. I expect you to do better.”
He tried to hide his confusion. “Yes, sir.”
He didn’t think the trainers for Rockshot cared how their pilots did, only that they finished safely.
“We need to get to preflight, but I wanted to talk with you first, see if you had any questions for me.”
Austin shook his head. “No, sir.”
“You understand what Rockshot is, then?”
“Sir, it’s a race against the clock through the asteroid field. I’m expected to avoid the ‘roids, as they say.”
Rolling cracked a smile. “Yes, avoid the ‘roids. They’re still saying that, huh? Well, yes, I would recommend not hitting any asteroids. Could ruin your day. I meant more along the lines of questions about procedures and that sort of thing? After all, we hail from the same stomping grounds. I wanted to offer help if you need it.”
Austin shuffled back a step. For the first time, he realized Rolling’s mouth matched the sounds of his voice. “You’re from Earth?”
“Closer than that, Rock. Grew up in Chattanooga and went to the Air Force Academy. I flew F-15s out of Andrews for a while before Nubern picked me up.”
“Nubern recruited you? But you’re—”
“Older.” Rolling nodded. “Yep. Sure was a surprise to me, I’ll tell you that. Said he needed a recruiter and flight instructor, so I jumped at the chance. Never thought I’d end up here, though.”
Austin gazed at the hangar deck. He knew other experts and talents had been recruited from Earth, but another pilot? Better than that, an instructor that was older than the students?
“I-I don’t know what to say, sir.”
“Nothing to say if you don’t have any questions. I’ve seen what you can do and heard twice as much through scuttlebutt. If you’re half that good, then you must be some sort of natural.”
He rubbed the back of his neck. “Not sure about that, sir. Any advice you can offer would be great.”
Rolling considered his request, rubbing at his shaved head. “Ah, well, don’t run into the ‘roids, keep your turns sharp and fluid, but for God’s sake, keep your eyes open. Don’t get fixated on the largest rock in front of you. Chances are one of the smaller ones is closing in on you from the side and will whack you! Remember, I can’t intervene unless there is an imminent danger and if I do, you’re toast. All power in the Trident will be diverted to the engines and shields just in case I miss something. I guess that’s it.”
“So, keep my eyes open and fly fluid...right.”
Rolling knocked him on the shoulder with his large fist. “You know how it is trying to give advice about flying to someone. You just know some things, right?”
For some reason, Austin knew what he meant. Flying either came easy or it didn’t. “I understand, sir. Let’s do this.”
“That’s the spirit,” he said and turned around toward the Trident.
It was a trainer model with the two canopies like he’d seen before. However, this one was far from new. Scorched black burn marks marked the wings and the tail. A charcoal burn moved across the trainer canopy like rough, half-tinted glass.
“What happened to this thing?” Austin asked.
Rolling grunted. “A Lobera trainee took it out earlier this morning. I think he was the first one of the day.”
“What’s with the burn marks? Looks like laser fire. These rocks don’t shoot at us, do they?”
“‘Course not. When a solid object strikes a shielded craft hard enough, the shields can overload when the energy tries to repel whatever it is that hit. Sometimes, it’s too severe like a ship collision. No amount of shielding in the world can protect you if you run this baby into a capital ship. But asteroids, the Trident can withstand most of the asteroids in this belt.”
“You seen any Legion capital ships up close?”
“Sure, once or twice. I’ve only been with the Legion for three years, and most of that’s been at the Junction, but I did see a Parazonium-class carrier task force come through here about a year back. They’re big, a lot bigger than you’d think.”
Austin leaned forward on the ladder as they both climbed into their cockpits. “Carrier task force? Out here? In class we learned Quadrant Eight is a backwater territory, and that Earth is really in the middle of nowhere in Legion space.”
“Yeah, that’s true. I didn’t stop’em and ask for details, you know?”
Austin plopped down into the cockpit and began his start-up procedure. He pushed away thoughts of the carrier task force and his imagination playing with the idea of Earth’s reaction to a Legion carrier force parked in orbit.
“Energy cells at maximum. Good, the grease monkeys hooked us up right. Shields at full power,” Rolling said. “We’ll engage them once we’re clear.”
Austin finished his checklist. “All set here, sir. Ready when you are.”
“Your show, Rock. Contact the tower. I’m buttoning up back here. Once that’s done, you’re on your own, clear?”
He swallowed. “Yes, sir.”
“Alrighty then, good luck.”
The canopy whined shut, blocking out the crowd still cheering for Skylar.
47.40.
Skylar’s time was so close to the record. All this pressure and excitement over something that lasted seconds. Reminded him of the guys obsessed with NASCAR back home, talking about lap times and such. Now, his points would be based on how well he could do against the clock. He exhaled and rolled his head around, trying to loosen his stiff muscles.
His eyes narrowed as he surveyed the controls and asked for clearance to take off.
“Rock, this is Tower,” his earpiece crackled. “You are clear for departure, hangar door two. Good luck.”
“Roger, Tower, on my way out.”
Austin eased power into his vertical thrusters; the engines rumbled. Off to his right, the crowd cheering Skylar’s return rippled away from the sudden engine blast. He took one glance, thought he saw Skylar in the crowd, and turned back to his controls. The Trident rocked as it lifted off the hangar deck above the other fighters. He swiveled on its axis, the hangar door in the distance revealing the purple nebula beyond. Easing his throttle forward, the Trident passed over the deck.
Within ten seconds, his Trident cleared the hangar doors and shot into open space.
“Tower, Rock, I am in the clear.”
“Roger, Rock. Razor is already at the rendezvous point awaiting the curve to the starting line.”
He tried to breathe normally, his pulse pounding in his ears. The artificial gravity left him, his stomach dropping as he adjusted to zero-G. Josh’s transponder pinged.
“Rock, Razor. What took you so long?”
“Greatness takes time.”
Josh snorted. “Right. Opening the curve to Point Rockshot.”
He acknowledged. Josh’s curvature drive would open to the starting line on the other side of the nebula. The emerald hue of the curve in space surrounded the Trident as it passed. The space flashed, and the ships were instantly transported to the edge of the Pany Asteroid Belt. Massive asteroids twirled around their craft. The alert fighters zipped by just outside of the belt, standing in silent vigil over the students.
“Why don’t you take this first, Rock?” Josh said.
Austin pulled his Trident next to Josh. He saw Josh’s helmet in the cockpit, but couldn’t see his face. “You sure, Razor? That’ll be a lot to live up to.”
“Be my guest.”
Okay, remember your training.
His HUD marked the track of navigation beacons with green squares, and he eased the fighter into the flight plan leading to the beginning of Rockshot.
One minute.
He sighed.
Two of the fighters flying patrol hovered far above him, flying a parallel course, their landing lights blinking in the darkness. He looked at them, wishing he were in their shoes. He imagined being a full-time Star Runner with his classes and instructors behind him and knew, somehow, that no one was never fully past homework and judgment.
His navigation computer pinged, and he adjusted his speed to shave off a few minutes. Passing through the final navigation beacon, he eased to a stop. He took in a long, deep breath of metallic air and surveyed the nebula, glowing like a jellyfish lit in the moonlight. Before him stretched the field of rocks standing between him and glory.
This is it.
“Loco...this is Rock...”
The fingers of his left hand rested on the flight stick. His right gripped the throttle. Engines and shields at full power. A chilly bead of sweat weaved through the hair at the back of his head like an insect before breaking through to his neck and trickling down. He closed his eyes and shivered.
“Start the clock.”
“Roger, Rock,” Rolling said from the trainer cockpit. “Clock will start on your verification.”
Austin sighed. “Verified.”
“Go!”
He pressed the throttle forward, remembering what Rolling said about being fluid. Keeping his right hand on the throttle, he eased into the asteroid field. The lower right of his HUD flashed, revealing his time clock, but Austin ignored it.
Two massive boulders tumbled above him as he brought the fighter into the field. He passed under without an issue. He needed more speed.
He pushed more power into the throttle, the asteroids coming faster now.
More spinning boulders materialized out of the black as if they cloned before his eyes. Asteroids of all sizes and shapes surrounded his canopy. He widened his eyes until they burned. His hands flew across the controls. He gripped the stick with both hands, yanking back only to dive beneath another stone.
The asteroids parted for a moment, and he exhaled, only then realizing he had been holding his breath. Risking a glance at the HUD: 32 seconds and counting.
He squinted at the navigation beacons. Move!
The rocks flurried around his canopy like snowflakes. He moved through the field like a dream, the fighter becoming an extension of his being. Sweat burned into his eyes, and he blinked it away. Almost there.
Up ahead like a tan cloud, a shower of tiny asteroids fluttered around larger, more dangerous asteroids. Without hesitating, he powered through the smaller rocks, a hundred tiny sparks glancing off his shields like fireflies. He winced as his shield power drained, but he powered through.
The final navigation beacon loomed, and he transferred all remaining shield power to the engines. Come on, baby, move it!
He leaned forward, willing the fighter to pass the finish line.
And then it was done, the line passing into his rear sensors.
He leaned back, placed his helmet onto the headrest and closed his eyes.
When he opened them, he saw the time and chuckled.
47.38.
“You tied it, Rock,” Josh said. “Nice job!”
“Thanks,” Austin said. “Now, you beat it.”
“Will do,” Josh said without a hint of nerves.
A minute later, Josh began his Rockshot. His Trident glided through the asteroids, never coming close with any of them. By the time thirty seconds had passed, Austin knew he witnessed perfection. When one small asteroid threatened the belly of his fighter, Josh rolled through, allowing the asteroid to pass beneath him without incident.
He crossed the finish line with a time of 46.98: a new record.
Austin imagined returning to Tarton’s Junction, listening to the cheers for his friend who had just shattered a record.
* * *
It was late, two hours past the middle of the final shift. Austin walked to the mess hall, feeling a sense of satisfaction in the silent corridors. A service robot wheeled past him, its servos whining softly. He nodded at the robot but smiled when he realized it wouldn’t respond. He slid his fingertips along the cool, smooth surfaces of the wall as he strolled. The past day had been an experience, full of different emotions from extreme joy to a sense of loss he couldn’t really explain. After earning the top time in Rockshot, Josh would be leaving. It felt like the end of high school all over again. But this time he had Skylar and Bear, and that counted for more than he could express.
Since Austin had tied the former record in Rockshot, he had earned a few nods, a couple of congratulatory slaps on the shoulder for a “job well done.” The finishing time would earn Austin a healthy extra ten points toward graduation. However, Josh had the best time and, justifiably, won the highest praise for the event. None of the other pilots had come close. Skylar had made a strong showing and enjoyed her moment in the spotlight. The other Tizona students had done well, none of them crashing into an asteroid or forcing their trainer to take over although some had their flight trainers wondering what the trainees were paying attention to out there. Ryker had seemed pleased with the latest batch of trainees at the end of the day, sitting at the edge of the mess hall during the celebration with a subtle smile on her face.
Nubern had rushed up to Austin at the end of the night, his face glowing with pride. “You tied the former record. Well done! I always knew you could do this.”
The words echoed in his mind as he strolled the hallways. The lingering doubt in his abilities faded. He was a Star Runner. No, he was a good Star Runner, one of the best. Regardless of the nagging voice inside his head berating him into believing he couldn’t do it, his Rockshot time proved otherwise. He had the ability. He needed to set aside his doubts and let himself go.
Let himself go.
How he wished his father could see him now.
He caught a glimpse of his reflection. A trim frame wrapped inside his Tizona blues stared back. Even though he had the reflection for confirmation, he couldn’t believe it. He really was a Star Runner.
He continued into the mess hall where the celebration had roared a few hours before. The deck glowed. The chairs were stacked on the tables leaving no trace of the songs and reveling. Placing his hands on a railing at the wall-sized view port, he gazed at the colors of the nebula amid the backdrop of the blackness of space. The peaceful scene hid the dangers of space beyond, the wild space, the space with pirates like Dax Rodon looking to leech off the powerful. This was the reason the Legion existed, and soon he would be an officer. He took a long, slow breath.
Two alert fighters moved overhead in a wide arch, their landing lights blinking as they moved like confident sentries over Tarton’s Junction, his home. A comfort washed over him like a warm blanket. He still had so much to learn, yet he finally felt at home for the first time in quite a while.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?”
Austin did not turn. “It is.”
Josh stepped next to him and leaned on the railing. “When I first got here, I called that nebula the ‘dark cloud.’ I was depressed, lonely, and missed home. I put all of those feelings into that cloud. Sometimes I could beat the sadness, sometimes I couldn’t. But what could I do but press on? I had already come so far. Quitting was never an option.”
Austin looked at his friend. With his hair freshly shaved down to his skull, and a data tablet tucked under his arm, Josh had the small twinkle of newly placed silver wings on his chest. He placed his hands on his hips and turned to face Austin.
“I guess this is it.”
“I know. Sorry,” he said and offered a mock salute, “I mean…I know, Lieutenant.”
“Right,” Josh said and gazed out of the view port.
His freighter, the Saber, bound for Earth, would be leaving within the hour.
“You were amazing today,” Josh said, staring down at the deck. “No new trainee has ever done so well in Rockshot.”
“I got lucky.”
“I don’t think it was luck, but whatever you have to tell yourself.”
Austin looked back to the nebula. “What’s next for you?”
Josh pulled out his tablet and glanced at the screen. “I’m heading home in forty-five minutes and will arrive in Atlantis at night. I’ve checked the calendar. I’ll be home in time for July Fourth weekend, and the Braves are in town. Might take Mom and Dad.” He snorted and gazed unfocused for a moment. “In three days, I’ll be going to a Braves game.”
Austin thought of baseball, of going to the movies on a hot Georgia summer day, of working at the fruit stand selling tomatoes and swatting insects off the exposed fruit, of meeting at the coffee shop after school. The memories flashed through his mind like hazy, blurred photographs.
“It seems like a dream, doesn’t it?”
Josh nodded slowly. “It really does.”
Austin swallowed. “I imagine this will be a burden.”
“What’s that?”
“Knowing about all of this.” He gestured with his hands at the mess hall and the nebula beyond. “We’re in on the biggest secret in Earth’s history, working right alongside the ‘dark cloud’ as you call it, and we can never tell anyone. We have to act as if we’ve been at school on a mission trip and our lives are the same as everyone else’s. That’s a hard pill to swallow. Kind of like none of it really happened.”
“But it did.” Josh pointed at his flight wings on his chest.
“You’re a lieutenant now. It’s hard to believe.”
“With your performance in the Rockshot, you’re not too far behind now. You’re ahead of where I was at the same time. What do you have now, sixty points?”
“Sixty-three, yeah.”
“Awesome.”
Austin looked at him. Josh’s features appeared older and wiser than the face he’d spoken to during Christmas nearly two years before. “I’m happy for you.”
“Thanks.”
Josh reached out and squeezed Austin’s hand hard, his eyes glassy. “I’m sorry we didn’t get to hang out more up here. Maybe back home, eh?”
Austin thought of the possibility of spending time with Josh at home, playing board games and staying up late. He knew somehow those days were gone and would never fully come back. He could have said all that, but instead offered, “That sounds great, buddy. Safe travels.”
