Snippet #2770119

“All right little nuggets,” Aiden said as he climbed onto the short rolling ladder used to ferry pilots up to the cockpit of the Chiron-class fighters and other crafts that were launched out of the bay, helmet dangling from his left hand while the other extended over the crowd of young pilots, “gather round. Time for a quick little story.”

“This one is a happy little tale,” he said, knowing that his helmet transmitter was switched “ON” and would continue to broadcast constantly to Lucy and whoever else would be listening back in Command Control. His voice, however, quickly changed to an angry bark from his pedestal, “it about the nugget that got himself killed because he didn’t know the frakking difference between vertical and horizontal stabilizers. Stay sharp out there, boys and girls. For some of you, this will be your first time in a real Chiron-class fighter.

“I know that some of you are already certified to pilot the Galen-class utility crafts, but being a Chiron jockey is a completely different story. Galens are the cattle of the Fleet,” he said, drawing a few chuckles from the older pilots and those that weren’t completely shocked to see the sudden and drastic change from a class clown to a hardened leader in the form of Aiden Morrow, “but Chirons are the wolves.”

A few flight deck technicians offered a handful of signals, after which each of the pilots were escorted to their respective fighters. Although Chiron fighters were capable of using their vertical thrusters for standard takeoffs, the preferred method of launching the fast-attack and patrol crafts was to launch them out of tubes that rifled the fighters like bullets into space. The first time that Aiden had been in such a launch, he’d vomited all over the control panel of his Chiron.

Pulling the flight helmet over his head, he clicked over the com to burst transmission and selected the frequency for the station that had been assigned to Lucy Caspian for the exercise.

“Didn’t scare ‘em too bad, did I?” He asked with a grin behind the plated mask that sealed into his flight suit with a suction and clasp.

“Okay, we are all yours, Specialist,” Aiden finished before finishing his last pre-flight check and settling into the cramped cockpit of the Chiron as the canopy sealed around him. Immediately, the man was at peace – born to fly.

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“No, no! Throw into the frakking turn! I swear I’d think you’ve never driven anything other than a tractor,” Aiden growled into his helmet’s comlink at one of the newer pilots that missed another run at the target. The drill called for hit the afterburners and then throw the fighter into a complete 180 to attack the drone from behind. No live ammunition was being used on the drill, just targeting “painting” lasers that the computer drones would record the accuracy from each of the ships.

Aiden was obviously irritated, more so than normal for his personality on any given day. Reaching up, his hand tapped against the glass of the restrictive flight helmet, unable to wipe away some of the sweat from his face. Higher temperatures were nothing inside the flight suits of the flying rockets that were Chiron fighters, but it was definitely getting to Morrow more than usual.

“You alright, man?” One of the voices spoke into his ear. Aiden wasn’t even sure who was speaking.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. Let’s get back to this,” he said, leaning his own Chiron into a slow looping turning before tapping up the display on his own targeting computer.

“This is Echo One, beginning Maneuver Pattern Omaha, starting…” he stopped, voice trailing off for a moment as the young man squinted to make out the coordinates on the HUD projected before him, “…Vector 9.8…4. Let’s just get this done, guys.”