Far Horizon (Juggernaut #4)

Thirty Two

Ellie checked herself in the mirror, and was satisfied her flight suit was pristine. She had stayed up late to ensure she would look her best today. Today had to be perfect. Today the simulations were over. Today was their first time in a real Starling, and today Ellie would show them what she could do.

She was first at the mess hall and took only a light breakfast. Cadets weren't allowed to take food from the hall so she sat by the door and ate quickly. She cleaned away her plate and marched briskly to Fighter Bay Two.

Commander Archer was present for today's lesson, and he was already suited up in preparation for his own flight. Archer's helmet balanced between forearm and hip. His call sign 'Sniper' was painted on both sides of his helmet. Ellie knew it would be stencilled onto his fighter too, and looked forward to the day she would have earned her own call sign, and her own ship.

Lieutenant Awan was discussing final preparations with the ground crew. He acknowledged Ellie with a gesture and pointed to a bench nearby. She saluted them both and sat down to wait.

She wasn't alone for long. The rest of the class was eager for this day to begin too, and within ten minutes they were all assembled. The twins arrived and stood away from Ellie but she could feel them watching her. Dominique entered and stood near the back of the group. She winked at Ellie when they caught each other's eye. Aiden arrived last, and sat next to Ellie.

"Where were you?" she asked him.

"I stopped at your quarters. I thought we could have breakfast together. In case you were nervous."

"I don't get nervous about this," said Ellie. She quickly glanced at the twins, anyway.

Aiden noticed the quick look. "You don't have anything to prove."

"Yes, I do."

Awan dismissed the ground crew and approached the cadets while Archer looked on.

"Fall in, class. Today you will be taking your first real flights. The simulators are good, but they are not the real thing. Real is dangerous. Understand that from this moment on, there is no room for error. Today, failure to follow the correct procedures or obey an order can get you killed. A wrong move in the sims will cost you points. Our here, it could cost you everything. Each one of you is responsible for your own safety, and that of your team. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir," chorused the class.

"Very good. I will now hand you over to Commander Archer, who will take you through the outline of your day."

Archer stepped forward, thanked him, and addressed the class.

'We have eight Starlings available to us today, which means we can practice simultaneous launches from all four tubes. You will be divided into two groups of four. Group one will fly and follow the exercises while group two observes and critiques. You will then swap places and try this again. Understood? Good. We're also going to make the day more interesting. The Lieutenant and I know you have created a leader board for class. Don't act surprised, every class thinks they are innovators. We like to encourage healthy competition so today's training will conclude with a dogfight. The winning team of two will receive elevated dining privileges for the next week, plus, I assume, the undying respect of your squadron.'

Ellie's ears perked up at that news. Following instructions and rote drills was one thing, but if there was going to be a competition that was another story, one which always had a happy ending as far as she was concerned.

'Group one will consist of cadets; Aiden; Emerson; Tam, C; Young. Group two; Croft; Tam, A; Emerson; Howden. Group one, you're up first. Approach your launch bay and get into your ships. Take up position three clicks port and wait for me there.'

Ellie's heart pounded. She walked to her launch bay airlock, glad to have two friends in her group. Glad to only have one enemy. She pulled on her helmet as the door opened and latched it in place. The air pressure changed and her ears popped. She had forgotten about that.

The motion activated lights came on as Ellie entered the bay. It was an unimpressive room for such an exciting moment. On the far wall, behind heat shields, was an emergency tool kit and first aid kit. Above her, Ellie saw the lines where the ceiling would open to the landing bay above. That was where ships were prepared before being lowered into the launch bay by hydraulic lifts. Exposed pipework lined the walls, and ended in nozzles spaced around the room pointing at the ship; fire suppression. Angled maglev panels were spaced around the floor, also aimed at the ship. These would hold the Starling in place once the landing gear was retracted and give additional launch momentum. The launch bay doors in front of the Starling were closed. Beyond them was the launch tube with its own set of space doors at the far end. The length of the tunnel was lined with magnetic propulsion. Her engines would be on full burn too, by the time she excited that tunnel. The whole system was built around getting fighters away from the ship and into combat as soon as possible.

It wasn't lost on Ellie that the launch process was basically like firing a gun, except the bullet had a pilot.

In the middle of the launch bay sat her Starling. It was odd to see the complete ship after all the time they had spent climbing in and out half a cockpit. It was a stubby little thing, a bulbous arrow with wide spread wings and an elongated tail separating the two main thrusters, all of it in a dull gunmetal grey with the occasional accent colour in a military green. Twin gun ports were tucked high under the wing, close to the body, but they were fake, and housed only low-power simulated weapons. They were good enough to paint a target but not damage it. When the class was ready for live-fire exercises they would have to graduate to a new ship; the Sparrowhawk. Starlings were only designed for flight training and simulated combat.

Ellie pulled a lever on the side of the Starling and a short ladder unfolded from the body. She pulled herself up, released the cockpit, climbed in and sealed it shut. The ladder retracted automatically.

She powered on the ship and heard the sound of the comm channels opening, putting the four of them in direct communication.

"Who's excited?" said Aiden.

"Pipe down, cadet," warned the lieutenant. 'Keep this channel clear for flight comms only. Save your gossip for the dinner table."

"Yes, sir," said Aiden.

"Send them out Lieutenant," said Archer.

"Group one, initiate launch sequence and launch when ready."

Ellie ran through the final launch sequence without looking at the controls. She had practiced this in the simulator dozens of times, and replayed it in her imagination hundreds more. She activated controls one after the other, flipping switches, adjusting levers and pedals; eye balling readings for pressure, power flow, engine balance, life support and the rest.

She pressed four buttons in a row. The first triggered the atmospheric pump to suck the air from the room. The second opened the launch bay door. The doors folded away into the wall of the tunnel beyond. The tunnel was shaped like a triangle with the points filed away. Red and white lights, evenly spaced in bands throughout, lit the pathway. At the end of the tunnel she saw the stars. Ellie pressed a third button to engage the magnetic supports, and the fourth and final to retract the landing gear. The launch catapult had been calibrated well, and she hardly noticed the change from mechanical to magnetic support. The Starling floated in place, anticipating the transition from stillness to motion.

Ellie planted her feet against the pedals. She took hold of the control stick in a firm grip. She placed her left palm on the throttle and closed her fingers in a wave. Her left thumb flicked the final switch on the throttle column, signalling the engines to ignite.

The ship thrummed beneath her, a machine tensed and ready to leap.

She launched.