sensed the ensuing dogfight over their craft. If they did not escape the confusion soon, they’d be caught in the crossfire.
Damn it, Trindel, give me an option!
Their target descended and almost collided with another drone. Byron exclaimed aloud as he was forced to take evasive action.
There’s too much confusion …
Trindel! Byron screamed.
His navigator hesitated for only a second before suggesting coordinates. Taking immediate action, Byron jumped the ship to the new position. They emerged on the edge of the fracas and discovered the drone bearing down on them. Byron fired a shot just as the drone opened fire. Without waiting for coordinates, he jumped the ship again.
Trindel gasped as they emerged just below the previous location. A flash of light informed Byron of the drone’s demise. It was closer than he preferred, but his team had completed their assignment.
Head on? he demanded.
You wanted options, his navigator offered.
“ 715T, retreat to a secure position and do not engage unless absolutely necessary,” Officer Rellen’s voice echoed from the com.
“ Yes, sir!” Byron replied, veering the ship away from the fight.
As their ship circled the perimeter, another drone exploded. The men did not get to blow up drones often due to the cost, but it provided a greater sense of accomplishment when they were permitted that luxury. It was far more satisfying than mere laser tagging. Considering the live occupant of the drone, this particular exercise seemed hollow, but Byron felt no regret. Oddly enough, he felt neither remorse nor elation over his first live kill.
When the final drone was destroyed, the fighters resumed formation and returned to base. Byron sensed Trindel’s heavy mood and did not converse with his navigator as they taxied into the hanger. If the situation bothered Trindel, then there was little Byron could say to ease his friend’s mind.
The flight apparently weighed heavy on everyone’s thoughts, as little was said in the changing room. The overall mood was somber. Byron wondered if any of the teams had failed their objective, but he did not ponder long on that thought. He and Trindel had succeeded, and that was all that mattered.
As they crossed the hanger to the briefing room, Byron glanced in the direction of the visiting transport. The security officers were in evidence and speaking with two hanger crew personnel. They appeared relaxed and he thought he detected laughter drifting across the hanger.
The young men filed into the room and took their seats in silence. Trindel dropped like a stone into the chair beside Byron, his expression solemn. Frowning at his navigator’s demeanor, Byron was about to speak when Bassa called for attention.
“ Men, this will be brief,” he announced. “With the exception of team 143T, who is to remain here, you are to return to your quarters. Team 479T, you are to report to my office immediately.”
Byron glanced at Surren and noticed his cocky smile was absent. He and his navigator were slumped in their seats, faces drawn and complexions ashen. They failed, Byron thought.
“ If anyone else now realizes he doesn’t have what it takes to fulfill his role as a pilot or navigator, he is to see me in my office before the midday meal,” Bassa instructed. He scanned the faces of those present, his eyes briefly pausing on Byron’s team.
“ This exercise separates the men from the boys. Be damned sure of your decision!”
A couple young men fidgeted, but no one spoke. Bassa simply nodded.
“ After the midday meal, each team will receive a debriefing in my office. Until then, you are dismissed!”
The instructors exited the room right away, but the trainees moved slower in their departure. Byron followed Trindel into the hallway and caught his navigator’s elbow.
You okay? he asked, concerned by his friend’s despondency.
Trindel nodded,
Damn it, Trindel, give me an option!
Their target descended and almost collided with another drone. Byron exclaimed aloud as he was forced to take evasive action.
There’s too much confusion …
Trindel! Byron screamed.
His navigator hesitated for only a second before suggesting coordinates. Taking immediate action, Byron jumped the ship to the new position. They emerged on the edge of the fracas and discovered the drone bearing down on them. Byron fired a shot just as the drone opened fire. Without waiting for coordinates, he jumped the ship again.
Trindel gasped as they emerged just below the previous location. A flash of light informed Byron of the drone’s demise. It was closer than he preferred, but his team had completed their assignment.
Head on? he demanded.
You wanted options, his navigator offered.
“ 715T, retreat to a secure position and do not engage unless absolutely necessary,” Officer Rellen’s voice echoed from the com.
“ Yes, sir!” Byron replied, veering the ship away from the fight.
As their ship circled the perimeter, another drone exploded. The men did not get to blow up drones often due to the cost, but it provided a greater sense of accomplishment when they were permitted that luxury. It was far more satisfying than mere laser tagging. Considering the live occupant of the drone, this particular exercise seemed hollow, but Byron felt no regret. Oddly enough, he felt neither remorse nor elation over his first live kill.
When the final drone was destroyed, the fighters resumed formation and returned to base. Byron sensed Trindel’s heavy mood and did not converse with his navigator as they taxied into the hanger. If the situation bothered Trindel, then there was little Byron could say to ease his friend’s mind.
The flight apparently weighed heavy on everyone’s thoughts, as little was said in the changing room. The overall mood was somber. Byron wondered if any of the teams had failed their objective, but he did not ponder long on that thought. He and Trindel had succeeded, and that was all that mattered.
As they crossed the hanger to the briefing room, Byron glanced in the direction of the visiting transport. The security officers were in evidence and speaking with two hanger crew personnel. They appeared relaxed and he thought he detected laughter drifting across the hanger.
The young men filed into the room and took their seats in silence. Trindel dropped like a stone into the chair beside Byron, his expression solemn. Frowning at his navigator’s demeanor, Byron was about to speak when Bassa called for attention.
“ Men, this will be brief,” he announced. “With the exception of team 143T, who is to remain here, you are to return to your quarters. Team 479T, you are to report to my office immediately.”
Byron glanced at Surren and noticed his cocky smile was absent. He and his navigator were slumped in their seats, faces drawn and complexions ashen. They failed, Byron thought.
“ If anyone else now realizes he doesn’t have what it takes to fulfill his role as a pilot or navigator, he is to see me in my office before the midday meal,” Bassa instructed. He scanned the faces of those present, his eyes briefly pausing on Byron’s team.
“ This exercise separates the men from the boys. Be damned sure of your decision!”
A couple young men fidgeted, but no one spoke. Bassa simply nodded.
“ After the midday meal, each team will receive a debriefing in my office. Until then, you are dismissed!”
The instructors exited the room right away, but the trainees moved slower in their departure. Byron followed Trindel into the hallway and caught his navigator’s elbow.
You okay? he asked, concerned by his friend’s despondency.
Trindel nodded,
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