CassaStar (6 page)

“
Once Bassa sees your team’s reckless antics, I’m sure he’ll have plenty to criticize,” growled Surren, his lips pulled back in a malicious smile. “I bet you’re the first one to go!”

Feeling his defenses rise, Byron returned the pilot’s threatening scowl. “Maybe you should go home before you embarrass yourself further, Surren.”

“
Don’t worry about me, hot shot!” Surren announced with a laugh, rising to his feet. “Your first crazy jump will be your last.”

“
Maybe I’ll just jump up your ass!”

Surren scoffed at Byron’s rebuttal and departed with his tray. Irritated, Byron shoved aside the remainder of his meal and leaned back in his seat. He would not be sent home early, regardless of what Surren believed. Failure was not an option at this point.

“
I’m not jumping up anyone’s ass,” Trindel murmured to no one in particular.

After three weeks of actual flight time, which involved formations and basic drills, Byron was pleased to hear the men would begin target practice next.

Despite Surren’s prediction, Byron and Trindel’s performance was flawless so far. They could hardly deviate from pre-planned flight patterns, though. Byron took pride in his perfectionist nature and was determined to prove his wasn’t as reckless as his record suggested.

There was no time off on Guaard and the men began target practice the day after the announcement. The flight patterns were pre-assigned, but Byron did not mind. The simulators recreated true flight but not without omissions in experience. The knowledge that one’s life hung on the brink of every maneuver made for a unique experience. Byron appreciated the opportunity to acclimate to the sensation and he was able to focus on his aim. His shots were precise and on target.

They advanced from one target to multiples while still following flight patterns. The last run of multiples, the teams were given free rein to select their own approach. The targets were set equal distance apart in a triangular form. The young men would be judged on their precision of flight as well as accuracy.

Slated to go last, Byron watched the other ships with interest as he and Trindel awaited their turn. The pilots varied in their course of attacking the targets from above or below, but every ship ran a zigzag course. There were a few notable maneuvers, but no performance stood out from the others. Never one to conform to standards, Byron opted to try something entirely different.

What’s our approach?
asked Trindel.

Byron smiled, sensing his navigator’s adventurous spirit.
Out and back
, he replied, visualizing the projected path.

Sounds good to me!

Trindel plotted their course and they waited for the signal.

“
715T, commence your run!” commanded Officer Jarth.

Byron throttled forward, aiming for the nearest target. The metallic orb glimmered enticingly in the darkness of space and he set his sights on the object. The moment they were in range, he fired on the orb. A laser of light struck the middle of the glowing sphere. A green light blinked, signifying a direct hit.

Continuing in a straight line, Byron aimed for the second target. Pivoting ninety degrees, he fired at the orb without a moment’s hesitation. The green light flashed and he pursued the final target. Byron angled their Cosbolt just enough to avoid firing directly at the squadron and hit the third target with ease. Adjusting their trajectory, he and Trindel rejoined the other ships and fell into formation.

“
Interesting approach,” Jarth commented over the com. “All ships, return to base. We’ll reconvene in the debriefing room.”

Maybe we should’ve tried something else?
offered Trindel.

I had a reason for that approach
, Byron stated, prepared to defend their course of action.

Good, because I have a feeling Bassa will want to hear it!

Once they’d landed, the young men gathered in the debriefing room. Trindel preferred to sit up front, but he remained by his pilot when Byron selected the back row. Wishing to avoid scrutiny, Byron always selected a position that would provide a view of the room. He and Trindel settled in their seats and waited.

The officers’ ships were equipped with recording devices that captured the performances of the teams in training. These images flashed on the screen as Officer Rellen discussed each team. No team had missed their mark, although one team was reprimanded for a yellow light, which signified they’d barely grazed the target. No one received a glowing report, as perfection was expected at their level. Byron had learned to adjust his expectations accordingly and was not surprised.

However, the last drill was discussed in depth. Each team’s run was displayed on the large screen, and Officer Jarth suggested corrections for every approach. When Byron and Trindel’s performance was exhibited, Jarth paused.

“
Team 715T tackled the targets with an entirely different approach,” he stated, his tone neutral. “Your maneuver around the second target was acceptable, but it forced you to adjust for the last target. Time was not a factor in this drill, but that adjustment might cost you at a later time.”

Several heads turned in his direction, but Byron kept his eyes on the screen. “I felt a direct shot placed the other ships in the line of fire, sir,” he explained.

“
That is true,” Jarth conceded. “The safety of your comrades is a priority, but never anticipate a miss.”

He managed a curt nod, but inside Byron seethed. He never expected to miss his targets.

“
The other pilots elected to hit the targets in order,” observed Bassa from the corner of the room.

Every head turned to face the senior officer as he stepped closer. Bassa stared hard at Byron.

“
What made you select that particular route?”

The room’s attention shifted to Byron. He gathered his thoughts and projected what he hoped was a calm demeanor.

“
Sir, a direct course placed our ship further from the base and exposed,” he explained. “By shooting the far target second instead of last, I placed our ship on a return course to the base and within safe proximity of the squadron.”

Bassa nodded, contemplating Byron’s response. “A logical approach,” he conceded, addressing the men as a whole. “You must learn to think through every decision. The drills are repetitive for a reason. Learn the basics now so that when the time comes, you can make these decisions quickly and accurately.”

He surveyed the room, his expression serious. Turning to Jarth, Bassa nodded.

“
You are dismissed!” Officer Jarth announced.

There was a great deal of shuffling as the young men rose to their feet. Bassa watched Byron shoot his navigator a triumphant smile. Trindel did not speak, but his smug expression indicated private thoughts were exchanged. Bassa observed the pair with interest as they departed.

Rellen approached Bassa as the room emptied. “Think you may have boosted his ego to new levels,” he declared.

“
Jarth had already pointed out the only error in his approach,” Bassa replied. “Overall, he did select the most logical approach.”

Crossing his arms, Rellen regarded Bassa with skepticism. “Thought you wanted to keep him under control?”

“
Considering he deviated from the others at the first opportunity, I’m sure Byron will provide ample occasions for rebuke.”

Rellen nodded in agreement and departed. Bassa remained, still pondering Byron’s actions and explanation. He would indeed require close observation!

Chapter Three

Moving targets provided a new challenge for the men. All had scored well during simulator training, but real targets proved more difficult. Blatant misses received sharp disciplinary words from the instructors and resulted in additional practice for the offending teams. The days grew longer as the men logged more time in space than during previous exercises.

Byron and Trindel didn’t miss a single target, and their maneuvers were quicker and tighter than the other teams. None of the pilots were as adept at sharp turns or exhibited such precise movements. However, Byron’s flying carried with it a dangerous edge. Bassa was concerned the others would attempt to emulate his tactics and was forced to point out the misjudgment of Byron’s strategy on more than one occasion. He sensed resentment, although the young man was wise enough to avoid a verbal confrontation, but the last thing Bassa needed was a squadron of reckless pilots.

Small drones were employed for the next phase of training. The devices were programmed not only to evade the trainees but to pursue as well. This added a new dimension to the exercises and the teams were forced to adjust their plan of attack. The first day with the drones resulted in two teams failing the exercise entirely. This was not acceptable to Bassa and he voiced his displeasure at the debriefing.

“
The first time this squadron faces an attacker and two teams are neutralized!” he exclaimed, fury enveloping every syllable. “That is totally unacceptable. Did you forget every shred of simulator training? If you can’t avoid a drone then you don’t stand a chance in real combat.”

Bassa glared at the young men. The trainees appeared uncomfortable and the offending teams visibly sank in their seats. Officer Jarth had gone over the day’s exercise, chastising the unsuccessful teams, but Bassa wanted to ensure they understood this outcome would not be tolerated. Often one ship would miss its mark the first time out with the drones, but never two.

“
We will repeat this exercise again tomorrow with no errors, understood? Bassa proclaimed.

The young men signified their compliance with a loud ‘Yes, sir!’ Bassa scanned the room, his deep scowl reflecting disgust with the sloppy flying he’d witnessed today. His gaze fell on Byron, who appeared unperturbed. The pilot had performed his drills without errors, although his flying still bordered on reckless. Bassa opted to save that observation for another time and not detract from today’s issue.

“
Teams 512T and 639T, report to my office,” Bassa ordered. “Dismissed!”

On the heels of that order, Bassa exited through the side door. Byron rose to his feet and his gaze fell on Trindel’s wide-eyed face. Unconcerned with the fate of the errant teams, he gestured for his navigator to proceed him out of the room. Trindel was silent as they returned to their quarters, for which Byron felt grateful. He did ponder Bassa’s words while he showered, though. Perhaps the first team would go home tomorrow.

He’d just slipped on a shirt when a persistent beeping signified a visitor.

Byron?

Trindel’s tentative inquiry echoed in his head. Not surprised to hear his partner’s thoughts, Byron instructed his door to open. Trindel’s forlorn expression greeted him and Byron invited him to enter.

“
I’ll be ready in a moment,” he said, dropping into his chair and reaching for his boots.

Trindel nodded and shifted his stance. “What do you think is going to happen to Forcance and the others?” he implored.

Byron shrugged with indifference. “I don’t know. It’s Ganst and Forcance’s second error.”

“
Do you think they’ll be sent home?”

Pulling on his second boot, Byron glanced up at his navigator and sighed. Trindel possessed such a tender heart. He hated to see any man fail. However, the fate of the two teams was beyond their control, and Byron was far more concerned with his own team’s performance to care.

“
Trindel, we can’t worry about them,” he said, raising his voice to emphasize his point. “Just focus on our team.”

“
You don’t care what happens to the others?” Trindel asked in astonishment.

“
Not really.”

His navigator’s eyes widened even further. Byron could sense his answer bothered Trindel. Rising to his feet, he approached his friend and clasped him on the shoulder.

“
Trindel, my primary focus is our team. My obligations are to you, my navigator. I can’t control what happens to the others, so I’m just concentrating on our performance, all right?”

Squeezing Trindel’s shoulder in emphasis, Byron anxiously watched for his navigator’s reaction. He did not want to alienate Trindel. Few claimed friendship with Byron and it was imperative that he protect his relationship with this young man.