Star Runners (28 page)

"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."

Austin tried to hide his confusion. "Yes, sir."

He didn't think the trainers for Rockshot cared how their pilot 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 slightly. "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 blinked. 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?"

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."

Blood rushed to his face. "Not sure about that, sir. Any advice you can offer would be great."

Rolling considered his request, rubbed 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 eminent danger and if I do, your 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 describe advice about flying to someone. You just know some things, right?"

For some reason, Austin knew what he meant. Flying either comes easy or it doesn'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 black burn moved across the trainer canopy like rough, half-tinted glass.

"What happened to this thing?" Austin asked without thinking.

Rolling grunted. "A Lobera trainee took it out earlier this morning. I think he was the first one of the day."

"What's all 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 carrier task force come through here about a year back. They’re big, 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've learned this Quadrant Eight is a backwater quadrant 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 if a Legion carrier force parked in orbit.

"Energy packs 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 check list. "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 lasts 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 would do against the clock. He exhaled and rolled his head around, trying to loosen his stiff muscles.

His eyes widened as he surveyed the controls.

"Rock, this is tower," his ear piece 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. Austin 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 and into the air above the line of fighters. He swiveled the fighter on its axis, the hangar door in the distance revealing the purple nebulae beyond. Easing his throttle forward, the Trident passed over the other fighters.

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."

Austin acknowledged. Josh's curvature drive would open to the starting line on the other side of the nebulae. The emerald hue of the curve in space surrounded the Trident as it passed through. 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 in a parallel course, their landing lights blinking in the darkness. He looked at them, wishing he were in their shoes and forego being a trainee. He imagined being a fighter pilot full time with the classes and the instructors in the past and knew, somehow, that no one is 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 oxygen, and surveyed the nebulae, glowing like a jellyfish lit in 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 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 issue. He needed more speed.

He pushed more power into the throttle, the asteroids coming faster now.

More asteroids 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 asteroid.

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 asteroids flurried around his canopy like brown 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, plopped his helmet into 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, buddy."

"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 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 wished he was back on Tarton's Junction, listening to the cheers for his friend who shattered a record.

*****

It was late, two hours past the middle of the final shift. Austin walked to the mess hall, feeling a satisfaction in the silent corridors. A service robot wheeled past him, its servos whining softly. Austin 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 now he had Skylar and Bear, and that counted for more than he could express.

The fact Austin had tied the former record in Rockshot earned him 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 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 the trainer to take over although some had their flight trainers wondering what the trainees were paying attention to out there. Scorpion 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."