Wings of Honor by Craig Andrews (black authors fiction .TXT) 📗

“For the last two weeks, you and every member of this squad have been familiarizing yourself with the inner workings of the X-23 Nighthawk. Look around. The pilots you see here are the pilots who passed.”

“How many are left, sir?”

“Eighty-seven.”

Eighty-seven, Coda repeated in his head. Thirteen percent of their total number had already been removed from the program. The commander had said competition was fierce, but Coda hadn’t expected it to be this intense.

“FAM Phase is meant to separate the mentally strong from the weak,” Commander Coleman continued. “Every pilot who sits with you tonight has displayed the mental fortitude required to pilot an X-23. Like you, they deserve to be congratulated.”

Polite applause filled the room, followed by half-hearted hoots of excitement.

“Congratulations,” Commander Coleman said without a hint of pride in his voice, “you have completed FAM Phase. Tomorrow, you’ll begin to truly understand what it means to fly an X-23 Nighthawk.”

13

Simulator, SAS Jamestown

Alpha Centauri System, Proxima B, High Orbit

The operational flight trainer was one of the most beautifully intimidating pieces of equipment Coda had ever seen. Mounted in the center of a gyroscope was an exact working replica of the cockpit of an X-23 Nighthawk, its insides already alive with multicolored lights, screens displaying simulated flight data, gauges, switches, knobs, dials, and more.

Commander Coleman stood in front of it like a proud parent. “Welcome, nuggets, to the simulator.”

A wave of awe swept through the pilots, and Coda heard more than a few hushed whispers. Smiling, Coda looked at his friends standing beside him. Squawks and Noodle were smiling too—the kind of smile that was so wide, it had to hurt. Uno, however, looked as though he was going to lose his stomach. His already-pale face had turned a sickly green color.

“Once upon a time,” Commander Coleman said, “pilots trained in primitive versions of what you see in front of you. They were static, didn’t move, and focused more on training pilots to understand the cockpit than the sensation of flying. That’s not the case here, ladies and gentlemen.”

Commander Coleman took hold of one of the outer tubes of the gyroscope and gave it a hard push. The various tubes making up the frame of the simulator began to move, and when they did, the cockpit spun with it.

“The Simulator will spin you. It’ll twist you. It’ll hum, throb, and shake you. And when you crash, it’ll hurt. It’s not flying, but it’s damn close.”

Coda was smiling again—he couldn’t help it. The commander saw it too.

“What are you smiling at, Coda?” he barked.

“Just excited to get started, sir.”

“Good,” Commander Coleman said. “That’s good. But the pilot with the honor of giving it its first spin is the pilot who completed their CAI first.”

“Oh no,” Uno whispered.

“Lieutenant Hernandez.”

“No, no, no, no, no,” Uno continued to whisper. His eyes took on a wild look, as if he were a spooked animal about to flee.

“Uno!” Commander Coleman snapped. “Get up here.”

Uno suddenly pitched forward and lost his stomach on the dull-gray deck. The pilots standing in formation around him shied away, giving him a wide berth as he vomited again. Coda looked on in confusion, unsure of whether to laugh or console the friend who had gotten him through the computer-aided training.

Moscow’s shrill laugh cut through the sound of Uno’s retching.

“Knock it off!” Coda shouted, pointing a finger at Moscow, then was at Uno’s side. “You all right?”

Uno turned away.

The sound of heavy bootsteps caught Coda and Uno’s attention, and they looked up to find Commander Coleman making his way toward them. Uno sprang to his feet, snapping once again to attention as Commander Coleman stopped.

“Sir,” Uno said. “I…”

“Don’t just stand there!” Commander Coleman shouted. “Find a mop and clean it up.”

“Yes, sir,” Uno said.

“And while you’re at it, scrub the entire deck. I can’t have my Simulation Room smelling like vomit.”

“Yes, sir,” Uno said then, his face red and eyes bloodshot, darted out of the room.

Commander Coleman watched him leave, shaking his head. “At least he didn’t piss himself.”

The jibe stoked Coda’s anger, but when nobody else, not even Moscow, said anything more, Coda realized what the commander had done. By speaking up first, he’d taken the opportunity away from everyone else and effectively neutralized their response. Despite his previous criticisms of the commander, Coda was growing to respect the man more and more every day.

“Coda!” Commander Coleman said. “Get up here. It looks like you get your chance after all.”

“Yes, sir!” Coda said.

“Lucky bastard,” Squawks mumbled as Coda left him behind.

Commander Coleman grabbed one of the still-spinning arms of the gyroscope, bringing it to a halt when the cockpit was positioned right-side up. He locked it in place by yanking a nearby lever then looked expectantly at Coda.

“Well? Climb in.”

Coda looked at the cockpit, his excitement beginning to give way to nervousness. The gyroscope was nearly twice his height and, since it was spherical in design, just as deep. That meant the cockpit was well off the ground, more or less at Coda’s eye level. Surely, he wasn’t supposed to climb the arms of the gyroscope to get in, was he?

Commander Coleman cleared his throat, and Coda looked at him then followed his eyes to a ladder set off to the side of the simulator.

Right. Of course.

He fetched the ladder and climbed into the cockpit. It was exactly as he’d expected it to be, a complete working replica of the same X-23 cockpit he’d sat in during their first day of FAM Phase. However, resting on the seat was a VR helmet similar to the one he’d worn back at the academy.

Commander Coleman stepped through the labyrinth of arms of the gyroscope, settling in next to the cockpit. “Know what you’re doing?” he asked quietly.

“I think so, sir.”

“Good. Take it easy. Uno isn’t the only nugget I’ve seen empty his stomach, though they usually wait until after they’ve flown the simulator.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Fire it up.”

Coda reached for the switch that would ignite the X-23’s thrusters then paused. He looked to the