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

the front, and now he was… what? He had no idea what the future held in store now.

“I know your family name doesn’t have the best… reputation,” Buster continued, “and Moscow can be a royal ass. But you can’t go around hitting everyone who insults your family’s honor.”

“You don’t understand—”

“No, Coda. I do. Your father disgraced himself and everyone he’s ever known. And you’ve taken it upon yourself to undo that.”

Coda opened his mouth to speak, but the words died on his tongue.

“You see,” Buster said. “I understand more than you think, and I respect the hell out of you for it. But you’re not going to do any good if you’re kicked out of the academy.”

Coda found the edge of his bed and took a seat. He ran a hand over his closely cropped hair. “You don’t think it’ll come to that, do you?”

“You beat him pretty bloody.” Buster crossed the small room, grabbed the only other seat, and dragged it in front of Coda. “But no, I don’t think they’ll kick you out. You’re too damn good. Besides, what do they think will happen when they put five hundred soldiers together in a metal container floating through space and tell them to battle one another? And it wasn’t like Andrei didn’t deserve it. He had you up against the wall. Had his boys with him. What you did to him was self-defense.”

Buster’s version of the story wasn’t entirely accurate, but it was close enough to the truth that it gave Coda hope.

“Thank you,” Coda said.

“No problem.”

“No. I mean it.”

Coda had spent so much time planning for his future that he hadn’t thought about who would be in it, and for the first time, he realized Buster probably wouldn’t be a part of it. Meeting his friend’s gaze, he saw that Buster had come to the same conclusion a long time ago.

No wonder he’s so angry. I took away what was supposed to be his final happy moments with his squad mates.

“Go on back,” Coda said. “Find the guys. Celebrate. Tell them I’ll join them when I can.”

“I’m not leaving you here, Coda.”

“I’ll be fine. They’ll be worried, and I don’t want to ruin their night. Please, go.”

“You sure?”

But Coda didn’t get a chance to answer. There was a knock at his door. Then a moment later, it opened, and two officers stepped inside.

“Ensign O’Neil,” the first officer said, “come with us. Captain Hughes demands your presence.”

The cold hands of despair strangled Coda’s remaining hope. If Captain Hughes, Commander of the Terran Fleet Academy, wanted to see him, he was in more trouble than he’d realized.

4

Captain Hughes’s Office, Terran Fleet Academy

Sol System, Earth, High Orbit

“Tell me, Ensign,” Captain Gary Hughes said, “do you consider yourself a special kind of stupid?”

If Coda hadn't been standing at attention, his eyes on the wall behind his commanding officer, he might have stirred under the weight of Captain Hughes’s gaze. Even sitting behind his desk, he was nearly as tall as Coda.

“No, sir.”

“No?” Captain Hughes feigned surprise. “Then tell me how someone can be dumb enough to beat up one of their fellow students on the same day they were supposed to graduate.”

“It was a temporary lapse in judgment, sir.”

“A temporary lapse in judgment.” Captain Hughes chewed on the words. He stood from behind his desk, his broad, two-meter frame towering over Coda. Space stations weren't built for men like Captain Hughes, whose clean-shaven head nearly touched the stainless-steel ceiling. Combine that with his square face, and he looked every bit like the career military man he was. “A temporary lapse in judgment.”

The amusement in his voice terrified Coda more than anything else about the situation. Good things rarely followed a superior’s laughter.

Captain Hughes rounded the desk and took a seat on its edge, crossing his arms. His cold eyes didn’t match the amusement in his voice. “Tell me, Ensign, do you consider yourself an honest man?”

“Yes, sir.”

“How about someone who takes responsibility for their mistakes?”

“I… I think so, sir.”

“Then I’m confused, Ensign. Because from my perspective, striking Ensign Krylov once, maybe even twice, would have constituted a ‘temporary lapse in judgment.’ But three times? Four? Having to be dragged away by your fellow wingmen? That doesn't strike me as temporary. So either you’re lying to me, or you’re refusing to accept responsibility for your actions. So which is it? Are you lying or acting like a child?”

“Sir?”

“I asked if you're dishonest or immature.”

“It was a mistake, sir. One I was goaded into.”

“Ah, so it’s the latter.”

“Excuse me, sir?”

“I said it's the latter,” Captain Hughes repeated. “Actions of a boy. An inability to accept responsibility. Not too surprising, given your family situation.”

Coda’s eyes slipped from the rear wall, finding Captain Hughes’s.

“You have a weak spot, Ensign. One your enemies will exploit if you don't take better care of hiding it.”

“With all due respect, sir, I don't see how I can hide my family situation. Our name is known throughout the galaxy, and it isn't thought of kindly.”

“No, it's not, but that doesn't mean you have to wear it as a badge of shame. It drives you, Ensign. I can see that. But it also holds you back. Three times, you've been in this office, and all for the same reason: because you can't keep your anger in check. All because you thought defending your family honor was more important than defending the human race.”

“Sir, that's not—”

“Another lapse in judgment?” Captain Hughes asked, raising any eyebrow. “Arguing with your commanding officer?”

“I'm sorry, sir.”

“You're a damn fine pilot, son—nobody will debate that. Squadron Leader of the Ace Squadron of your graduating class, you should have your pick of commissions. Unfortunately, I can't recommend you for deployment. Not until you've learned to control your anger.”

Coda’s head spun. This can't be happening. It was his worst nightmare—beyond his worst nightmare.

“Permission to speak freely, sir?”

“Granted.”

“You're making a mistake, sir.” Coda kept his voice cool, devoid of all emotion. If getting angry had jeopardized everything he'd worked for, he wasn't about to make that mistake again. “I am a very good pilot, one of the best in my class, and from what I understand, there's a