plasma deep into his lungs. Then he swallowed large mouthfuls of the gel, filling his stomach. The drugs in the plasma immediately began to take effect ; suddenly all his senses were sharper and more focused.
The Raptors had been nicknamed "mother tears" when they were first produced, because so many new pilots had died trying to learn to fly them. They had caused a flood of mother's tears over the years. Given the dangers involved in flying the ships, Legionnaires began to have a black tear tattooed at the corner of their eye when they qualified as a pilot. For each combat patrol a blue tear was added to your service cascade of tattoos. They were a visible reminder of just how much it took each time you climbed into a ship. A red tattoo was rare now because they were only awarded for combat operations. Aijuba was the only one in the platoon with red tears in her service cascade.
The Lyre's main computers finished downloading the patrol briefing into Dasan's ship. Dasan saw the 3D maps of the patrol route on his situation display. He saw the planet and a 3D blueprint of the refinery and the crew quarters. He felt the settings for each of the waypoints for the patrol. He would sense these settings in flight, making it easy to navigate through the vast expanses of space.
The ground crew was double-checking his armament; he had a full load of torpedoes on board. His other weapons banks were being charged from the Lyre's main power banks.
"Sand ready," Dasan said.
"Aijuba ready. We lost Ohadia to flight status. That puts us at eighteen with three sections of six. I moved Betak to section leader."
"Very good." Betak always performed better if he was placed in charge. This would be a good test to see if he was ready for his next stripe.
The rest of the platoon quickly followed as they finished their mount ups. It was time to launch.
"Gaxola II patrol to Flight."
"This is Flight."
"Gaxola II patrol request permission to launch."
"Roger that Gaxola II. Standby for launch."
Red lights and strobes began to flash as the audible launch alarms sounded in the hanger bay. Crew chiefs and technicians pushed off and entered their launch stations through hatches along the Hanger's bulkhead. The patrol's ships were left alone in the Hanger, floating in the zero-g. Slowly, the huge launch doors began to slide open revealing the cold black space beyond. A hurricane of air rushed past Dasan's ship as the atmosphere in the hanger bay was sucked into the emptiness of space. Dasan saw a torque wrench flash by, narrowly missing his ship.
"Gaxola II to Flight. Be advised I came within six inches of being a no-go because of a loose tool."
"Goddamnit. Sorry Lieutenant, I will have someone's ass over that one."
"Check."
"Gaxola II patrol you are cleared to launch."
"Gaxola II to patrol we are a go. On my mark launch."
Dasan hesitated then said,
"Gaxola II launch."
"Lyre to Gaxola II patrol good hunting. To the glory of the Legion."
The Legion song " I Regret Nothing " began to play over the comm. It had become a tradition to play the ancient ballad by Charles Dumont for each launch.
No! Absolutely nothing...
No! I regret nothing
Neither the good that I've done nor the bad
All this is much the same to me!
No! Absolutely nothing...
No! I regret nothing...
It is paid, swept away, forgotten
I don't care about the past!
With my souvenirs
I lit a fire
Dasan eased his ship forward. It felt very much like he had just stood up and begun to walk; it seemed to take the same effort. Once he cleared the ship he increased his speed until he felt as if he were trotting. He glanced at the icons of the platoon on his virtual screen, they were tucking into formation like the professionals they were.
PATROL AREA BRAVO
GAXOLA II PATROL
SOL STANDARD 11/09
1435 HOURS
Dasan was watching his displays. He glanced at his bearing and heading readout; he tried not
The Raptors had been nicknamed "mother tears" when they were first produced, because so many new pilots had died trying to learn to fly them. They had caused a flood of mother's tears over the years. Given the dangers involved in flying the ships, Legionnaires began to have a black tear tattooed at the corner of their eye when they qualified as a pilot. For each combat patrol a blue tear was added to your service cascade of tattoos. They were a visible reminder of just how much it took each time you climbed into a ship. A red tattoo was rare now because they were only awarded for combat operations. Aijuba was the only one in the platoon with red tears in her service cascade.
The Lyre's main computers finished downloading the patrol briefing into Dasan's ship. Dasan saw the 3D maps of the patrol route on his situation display. He saw the planet and a 3D blueprint of the refinery and the crew quarters. He felt the settings for each of the waypoints for the patrol. He would sense these settings in flight, making it easy to navigate through the vast expanses of space.
The ground crew was double-checking his armament; he had a full load of torpedoes on board. His other weapons banks were being charged from the Lyre's main power banks.
"Sand ready," Dasan said.
"Aijuba ready. We lost Ohadia to flight status. That puts us at eighteen with three sections of six. I moved Betak to section leader."
"Very good." Betak always performed better if he was placed in charge. This would be a good test to see if he was ready for his next stripe.
The rest of the platoon quickly followed as they finished their mount ups. It was time to launch.
"Gaxola II patrol to Flight."
"This is Flight."
"Gaxola II patrol request permission to launch."
"Roger that Gaxola II. Standby for launch."
Red lights and strobes began to flash as the audible launch alarms sounded in the hanger bay. Crew chiefs and technicians pushed off and entered their launch stations through hatches along the Hanger's bulkhead. The patrol's ships were left alone in the Hanger, floating in the zero-g. Slowly, the huge launch doors began to slide open revealing the cold black space beyond. A hurricane of air rushed past Dasan's ship as the atmosphere in the hanger bay was sucked into the emptiness of space. Dasan saw a torque wrench flash by, narrowly missing his ship.
"Gaxola II to Flight. Be advised I came within six inches of being a no-go because of a loose tool."
"Goddamnit. Sorry Lieutenant, I will have someone's ass over that one."
"Check."
"Gaxola II patrol you are cleared to launch."
"Gaxola II to patrol we are a go. On my mark launch."
Dasan hesitated then said,
"Gaxola II launch."
"Lyre to Gaxola II patrol good hunting. To the glory of the Legion."
The Legion song " I Regret Nothing " began to play over the comm. It had become a tradition to play the ancient ballad by Charles Dumont for each launch.
No! Absolutely nothing...
No! I regret nothing
Neither the good that I've done nor the bad
All this is much the same to me!
No! Absolutely nothing...
No! I regret nothing...
It is paid, swept away, forgotten
I don't care about the past!
With my souvenirs
I lit a fire
Dasan eased his ship forward. It felt very much like he had just stood up and begun to walk; it seemed to take the same effort. Once he cleared the ship he increased his speed until he felt as if he were trotting. He glanced at the icons of the platoon on his virtual screen, they were tucking into formation like the professionals they were.
PATROL AREA BRAVO
GAXOLA II PATROL
SOL STANDARD 11/09
1435 HOURS
Dasan was watching his displays. He glanced at his bearing and heading readout; he tried not
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