Fictional Life

A TALE OF BROTHERS

— by Jeff Karamales

Chapter 3

A knock on Elias door caused the fox to look up from where he was reading one of the historical articles that had been assigned by their Instructor in Cultural Ethics, one of the last classes while the group of cadets neared the end of their four month Basic Training period. A grinning Alistair stood in the doorway, the expression slightly infectious and Elias couldn’t help the way his mouth twitched in response. He might have caused his share of trouble, but Alistair wasn’t a bad sort and often helped the others in their group cope with the stress of training.

“You look far too smug,” he told the human that had become a good friend in the past month and found that he liked the other cadet’s burgeoning competitive nature. Once one got past the human’s joking, something that the fox had learned was a defensive reaction when Alistair was nervous or frightened, he was actually a rather bright individual.

“They jus’ posted the scores fer pilot training,” Alistair informed the white fox.

“And?”

“We both made top scores! Well, yer a few points ahead o’ me…” Alistair took the chair at the small desk that was part of the room’s furnishings. “I s’pose tha’ means we’ll both be goin’ ta flight school.”

“Isn’t that what you wanted?”

“Aye. It is. But…Elias, I couldn’ nae done it without yer help. Math’s never been me strong suit, ye know?” He fidgeted slightly. “I jus’ wanted ta say, er, thanks an’ all.”

“You’d have made it without my help. You’re a natural, Alistair. A little work in the numbers department didn’t hurt, but you passed the tests all on your own.” Elias tried to return to the article but his friend wouldn’t let him.

“Mebbe. All I know is I’m feelin’ I owe ye one, ‘Lias. So, as a way of showin’ me appreciation and undyin’ gratitude, I brought ye a few gifts!” The gift wrapped package was relatively thin and the man must have had the package stuffed up the back of his uniform tunic to keep it out of sight. “Ye enjoy them, Toddy-boy!”

Alistair tossed the package so that it landed on the fox’s stomach and departed with a last grin thrown at his friend. Elias couldn’t imagine what the human could have gotten that he would feel was an appropriate gift that wouldn’t be considered contraband, and thus trouble. With a frown he tore the paper off before looking at the thin book with solid purple cover, not realizing that it was one of those magazines until it fell open along with a thin, flat, foil packet of whiskey that was popular on some of the less expensive cruise liners. Granted, the Pomeranian lass that graced the centerfold pages of the ‘Galaxy Girls’ quarterly with all of her feminine glory exposed for the world to see was rather cute, and Elias looked at her appreciatively until someone chuckled deep in their throat from his doorway.

With the insides of his ears growing hot in embarrassment, Elias lowered the magazine as the Senior Instructor leered at him with malevolent glee. “Well, Cadet Tivnan, having a little party?” the raccoon asked in a patently false sultry tone, Sergeant Halley far too thrilled at having caught him with contraband. “Isuppose this is a bad time for a surprise inspection?”

***

Elias finished scrubbing the last of the latrine floor with the small brush that was meant for cleaning nails and claws, his knees and back protesting at the work that had taken hours. The fact that Alistair wasn’t in much better shape and perspiring heavily mollified him somewhat, though he was still a bit miffed that the so called ‘gifts’ had landed him in trouble.

“Do me a favor and don’t give me anymore gifts, alright?” the fox grumbled as he sat up, wincing when his spine and the muscles around it protested painfully.

“I swear, Elias, I didnae know tha’ ol’ Halley was gonna be doin’ an inspection! ‘Course it didnae help she found even more reason tae bust me on demerits…” He sighed and looked at his shriveled finger tips. “Tha’ raccoon just hates me.”

“You are her favorite to pick on,” the fox conceded with a wince as he sat up straight. “I had a drill instructor when I joined the Alexandrian Navy that did that to the recruits he saw with the most promise, but I think that Halley really might not like you.” Elias snorted in dark humor. “Of course, being your friend means that she probably doesn’t like me either.”

***

The weeks passed fairly quickly for the recruits as they were sped through Basic Training and a small graduation ceremony saw the entire cadet cycle being allowed to the commercial section of Joplin for a full eight hours before returning to their barracks. The next day was a mad dash of packing and relocation to different sectors of the base for the training in the cadets’ different fields. Most went on to either mechanical training, space-borne operations, a few to the immersion courses on field investigation work. Alistair, Elias and a few more were part of a far more exclusive group and reported to a small subsection that pilot trainees were stationed to almost a hundred miles from the main section of SPF Headquarters.

Unlike their previous instructors, the veteran pilots that ran the Spatial Police Force’s flight program were more interested in ensuring that the cadets knew every possible aspect of space and atmospheric flight that was possible. The months blurred as each pilot candidate was drilled in navigation, mathematics and tactics that had been developed from every space going culture in the Planetary Alignment. Only when the Instructors were satisfied that all of the cadets had mastered the basics was the announcement made that solo flights would commence.

***

Elias rolled his shoulders to better settle the environmental suit before Alistair and another of their flight class lowered his helmet and began to engage the seals. The human gave him a grin and thumbs-up before stepping back while the other cadet smiled warmly. “You got this, Elias,” Ilsa Pritchard said just loud enough for the helmet’s external microphones to pick up before placing her thin, foxen lips on the reflective faceplate in a good luck kiss. She stepped back not seeing the smile on the white male’s muzzle.

“Alright, Cadet Tivnan,” the Senior Flight Instructor, a graying human with bright hazel eyes, said. “Time starts once you enter the airlock. Good luck.”

Elias moved to the airlock, stepping in and waiting for the opposite hatch to open before exiting into the hard vacuum of the hangar. The purpose of the exercise was to treat the fox’s solo flight as a hot launch in less than ideal conditions. He would board the craft, an older StarShark gunboat, fly ten minutes to the course that would test his reflexes and understanding of Three-Dimensional Spatial maneuvering, then to the range that had a series of space and ground-borne targets before returning.

Bringing up the engines even as he strapped in, Elias realized that having the highest marks so far was a bit of a detriment as he had to cold-start the reactors that powered both the propulsion systems and the various subsystems of the small ship. Going further down the twelve person line-up would have allowed him to enter a properly warmed up ship. As it was, the fox thoroughly expected the ship to act sluggishly and protest to some of the more strenuous portions of the course. It would make achieving a good enough time that he would be able to claim the reward of going into the commercial sector of the SPF facility much more of a challenge.

Because this was the solo test for all Spatial Police Force pilots, the course was set on the far western portion of the barren planet, well away from the higher traffic areas of the main port, though not so far away that help was unavailable should something go wrong. “Training flight 0115, ready for launch,” Elias said into the helmet’s communication system, linked to the gunboat’s by the oxygen and power umbilical on the chest of the suit.

“Affirmative O115. You are clear for launch,” the flight control officer on the other end said, most likely Ilsa as all of the pilot candidates would also function as flight control for each other and she was the only female in their group that had such a soft, wonderful sounding voice.

“Copy. Launching,” Elias said as he added small increments of power to the thrusters that controlled pitch, yaw and roll and fine maneuvering.

With deft touches to the controls he aligned the gunboat with the hangar’s opening before pushing the mains to a quarter of their power, then shoving the throttle controls all the way to their gates once clear of the cavity that had been cut from solid rock. The coordinates were set and the fox took that moment to suck in a deep breath, hold it, then let it out in a slow, measured manner that dissipated some of the tension in his gut. It hardly seemed like enough time had passed before the heads-up-display was illuminated with the wireframe mock-up of the course he was supposed to fly.

There were well over two hundred courses that the computer on the gunboat would cycle through for the pilot cadets so none of them knew what kind of course they would be flying and reminded Elias of some ancient video games that he had seen as a kit back on Alexandrius. It was a little disorienting to see the planet and stars past the HUD, but it was something all of them had had to acclimate to. The frame began to blink and turned from green to blue, informing the fox that the course had started in earnest. The computer onboard the gunboat would be in constant communications with the flight instructor’s terminal, and Elias’ progress would be displayed for the rest of his class to see, but all of that was moot as the fox focused on the instruments.

***

Alistair and Ilsa watched as their friend entered the first section of the course, a series of turns that a professional skier would have had trouble with, and both held their breath as the white fox slewed the heavy, less than agile ship through the linked banks and turns, kicking the aft of the gunboat out on the slalom in a slide to maximize the use of his engines.

“He.. he cut the power tae his mains!” the human gasped as his best mate barreled to a point of the course where he would have to pull up sharply and change course by a precise 105 degrees.

Ilsa swore heatedly, her claws digging into the armrests of the chair she sat in. Both watched as Elias almost casually flipped the ship so that the nose was pointed in the direction of the course change while still traveling in the same direction. Just as he neared the point where he’d need the power from his primary engines, the white fox triggered the maneuvering thrusters to full while his engines flared to life. He made the change with meters to spare but didn’t cross the invisible boundary of the course.

The copper colored vixen and human looked to their Senior Instructor, Chief Warrant Officer One Danes only nodding in approval with a slight smile on his face. Unlike their Basic Training Instructor, Sergeant Halley, Danes wanted his pupils to succeed and was almost fatherly to the young individuals that he taught. “C’mon, Elias,” the man muttered, his eyes riveted to the display, “you can do this.”

The rest of the squadron cheered when Elias exited the end of the course, his flying of the computer generated maze almost flawless and Instructor Danes signaled to Ilsa to send the white fox on to the next part of the solo test. The vixen nodded and toggled her comm set. “Flight 0115, you are clear to head to the range. Coordinates are being sent now. Well done and good luck.”

“Copy, control. I have the coordinates and am proceeding,” Elias’ voice came back, despite the flat tone from the signal, Ilsa could tell the other fox was grinning widely. “0115 out.”

***

Elias ran through the targets of the range with blinding, vicious speed. Most gunboats that patrolled the different worlds of the PA carried weapons that ranged from pulse cannon and lasers to missiles and railguns. The training gunboat was only equipped with lasers, however, though the different systems were meant to simulate other armaments. Despite Joplin being a lifeless rock, there was more than enough spatial traffic that having the debris in the form of shrapnel, missile hulls and the tungsten and steel rounds from railgun units would pose too great a threat to incoming and outgoing vessels. Likewise, there was a finite number of hulks and objects that could be set up for range targets, and were often reused for other training missions.

Sensors on the hulls or other target masses registered the hits and from what simulated weapon, the information again being relayed to the Senior Instructor’s console. Chief Danes watched as the white fox avoided the ‘return fire’ from some of the targets, the manner in which Elias used what others would see as shortcomings from his craft to his advantage and couldn’t help but grin. Elias was, by far, one of the most promising pilots he’d had the pleasure of teaching, and the man was sure that the young fox would go far.

When Elias landed, the docking of the gunboat just as precise and efficient as the fox’s departure and course run had been, Danes nodded to his cadet in approval as the trainee was helped out of his environment suit and given a drink of an electrolyte infused solution. “Well done, Tivnan. Take a seat in the debriefing room.” The man then looked at Alistair. “Gordon. You’re up. Let’s see how you do.”

With a nod following a hard swallow, Alistair stepped over to the wall of lockers and began to put on the different parts of his own suit, taking comfort in the grin and thumbs-up gesture that he got from his friend as the white fox began to remove portions of his vac-suit.

***

All fourteen flight cadets sat in the padded chairs that were designed to comfortably accommodate all member species of the Planetary Alignment and watched avidly as Chief Warrant Officer Danes went over each of their performances. While three of the class had slightly lower than average marks, no one had failed, something that had never happened with a group that the man had taught. The veteran Warrant Officer had saved the top four scoring runs for last, though.

“Cadet Nardal, overall score was 381 points with a time of 42 minutes, 18 seconds. Not bad, son. That last gun emplacement in crater 453 is a tricky one. Cadet Pritchard, overall score was 394 with a course time of 39 minutes, 3 seconds. That’s a very good showing, Ilsa. Now then, for our top two pilot trainees. As these are the best scores that we’ve seen in some time, with one of them actually being a few points shy of the Academy record, the one with top marks will be granted an additional twenty six hours of recreational time. The second best was 401 points over all, with a run time of 37 minutes, 2 seconds. The top score, though, was a total score of 411 points, just six shy of the record, and a run time of 29 minutes, 33 seconds. The Academy record held by Rovi Tambor was 28 minutes, 9 seconds.”

Chief Danes looked at Elias and Alistair, both sitting with mouths agape at the phenomenal times as the mean average for the obstacle course and range run was 48 minutes. One of them had almost cut the average time by half. The man stepped up to where the pair sat, Ilsa on the other side of Elias, and extended his hand to the white fox.

“Congratulations, Cadet Tivnan. Enjoy your downtime. I’d like to see you in my office after debriefing.” The man returned to his podium and tapped out the command that put all of the scores in descending order on the large screen behind him. “As for the rest of you, I want your papers on the basic physics of super-luminal travel on my desk by 0900 tomorrow morning before you enjoy your passes. And remember, not everything we do in the SPF is a combat mission. Our primary role is law enforcement and rescue. As such next week will see you beginning your training phase in docking and boarding operations, field triage in Z-G, and you’ll be spending time in the docks to assist with ship maintenance and repair. Dismissed.”

The cadets leapt to their feet and snapped off salutes, Elias only basking in the congratulations of his fellow cadets for a moment before hustling himself to the Chief’s office. “You wanted to see me, Sir?”

The man looked up for a moment as he loosened the collar of his duty uniform tunic. “I did, Elias. I spoke with your commanding officer from the Alexandrian Navy. Why didn’t you mention that you already had some flight experience prior to submitting your papers to the SPF?”

The white fox gulped audibly. “Ah…Sir, I…I didn’t think it was appropriate. The, um, incident you are referring to was an unauthorized action where I took control of a small ship-to-ship transport when an accident rendered the pilot and copilot unconscious, Sir.”

Chief Danes gave the fox a hard look before waving his hand in a dismissive gesture. “Drop the cadet garbage, Elias. You have what the SPF is looking for, or you wouldn’t have made it this far. As it is, I’d like you to forego the paper that’s due tomorrow morning and give me two pages describing the incident, what happened, and how you think you did. No filling it with scat, either. I want the truth of it and your honest assessment of your performance.”

Elias nodded and sketched a quick salute before turning for the door before he was stopped.

“Oh, and inform Cadet Pritchard that she has my permission to accompany you on your pass into the commercial section,” Chief Danes commented without looking up to see the startled look on his student’s face. “Carry on, Elias.”

“Sir, yes, Sir!” the fox replied, unable to keep his tail from wagging happily as he spun and headed back to the debriefing room.

***

“Yer one lucky fox, tha’s fer sure, Toddy-boy,” Alistair said with a grin as he watched his friend put the final touches on his cadet’s dress uniform. “Then again, I’m surprised I did as well as I did on the course!” He saw his friend’s smug expression in the mirror and grinned. “I’ll be beatin’ ye one o’ these days, ya smarmy fox! Not tae mention ye also get a few days wi’ the lovely Miss Pritchard!”

“You’re just jealous that Ilsa hasn’t fallen for you like every other female you’ve taken a fancy to,” Elias quipped. “Just because I don’t leave a string of females in my wake…”

“Feh! Yebe full of yerself, tha’s fer sure. An’ jus’ ‘cause I don’ fall in line with all yer romantic foolery ye wanna go an’ take the mickey outta me.” Alistair threw a pillow at the fox from where he lounged on his bunk, chuckling when the fox easily dodged the impromptu projectile.

Elias finished up and nodded at his reflection. Then his look fell slightly and he turned and stepped to the chair nearest the bunk the young human reclined on. “Alistair? Do you…do you think you could give me some advice?”

“What abou’? You ha’ nae been needin’ my advice on anything, so o’course ya have my curiosity up!” When the man noticed his friend’s pinched expression he dropped the banter. “Hey now, Elias. It cannae be tha’ serious, now, can it?”

The fox nodded. “It is. I…I think I’m really falling for Ilsa.”

Alistair grinned widely. “Ya know, it’s nae as bad as yer thinkin’ it be. Love is bein’ a grand thing an’ I fall in it ‘bout nine times a day!”

The white fox sighed and hung his head, his ears folding back. “I’ve never felt like this, Alistair. It…it’s incredible and scary all at the same time! I mean, there were girls in school that I liked, and a couple that I served with in the Navy that were okay to hang out with, but not like this. I feel like I do when I’m flying one moment, then I get nervous and want to throw up the next and when she smiles at me it’s like standing in the sun on a summer morning…I’m not going crazy am I?”

Alistair sat up, his earlier mirth vanishing, and put a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Nae crazier than any other person tha’s fallen in love the firs’ time o’ their life.” The human chuckled without humor. “I been there a time or two meself,” the human admitted with a melancholy sigh. “Believe it or nae, yer not the first, an’ ye sure not to be the last, Toddy-boy. Jus’ remember tae go slow with Ilsa. Ya know she weren’ havin’ the best of things back home. Jus’ go slow.”

Elias nodded but the despondent look didn’t live his face. “I think…I think she has plans as well.”

“Whaddya mean? Wha’ kinda plans?”

“Um…something, well…er, romantic.”

Alistair’s grin reappeared. “So? Enjoy the lass’s affections, laddy-o! I know there’s bein’ no few o’ us tha’ wisht she’d be lookin’ at us the way she does ye!”

The fox swallowed hard. “Yeah, but…by the Maker this is embarrassing…I’ve never, well, um…done it. You know?”

“Yer a virgin?” the human asked straight faced watching as Elias eventually nodded. “So? It’s nae a big thing. It’s jus’ the way things are. If tha’s the direction she wishes tae take with ye, then go with it. Jus’ do wha’ feels natural and be happy, bu’ be honest wi’ her. She’ll understand.” Alistair clapped his friend on the back and pushed him off his bunk into a standing position. “Jus’ don’ be tryin’ none o’ tha’ stuff ye seen in them naughty movies I know ye been watchin’! Tha’s all fer show an’ nae how you woo a woman!”

Alistair resumed his reclining position on the bunk as he returned to the paper that he was supposed to be writing.

“Now, get on wi’ ye. It don’ do to keep a lady-fair awaitin’ on ye!”

— NEXT CHAPTER —