CassaFire Read Free Page A

finish your training so quickly and acquire this assignment.”
    Mevine nodded, his wide eyes fixed on Byron. “You were young when you began active duty, sir.,” he observed. “I understand you were one of the best pilots to train on Guaard.”
    “ I suppose.”
    “ Is that why you were assigned to the flagship Sorenthia?”
    Byron shoved the last bite of food into his mouth. “One of the reasons,” he said, swallowing without chewing. He sensed the conversation’s direction. Byron wanted to escape before it drifted too far.
    “ Wasn’t your navigator accomplished as well? I forget his name…”
    The boy’s question, while innocent enough, sparked anger in Byron. He’d grown accustomed to deflecting questions regarding his involvement in the Vindicarn War, but inquiries involving his navigator cut deep. That Mevine couldn’t even recall the man’s name was an affront to the senior officer’s memory.
    “ Bassa was the most decorated navigator in the fleet and a true legend,” he replied, rising quickly to his feet. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to get out of this flight suit.”
    Mevine leaned away from the table, mouth open in surprise. Byron nodded at Garnce and exited the dining hall, his mental shields secure. He slipped into the first available telepod. Envisioning his destination, he transferred to the officers’ level.
    He began yanking off his flight suit the moment he entered his quarters. The fabric felt melded to his muscles as he peeled it from his body. Dropping into the room’s only chair, he removed his boots, allowing the air to circulate around his warm feet. Byron dumped his suit into a bin located within the wall and retreated to the bathing room for a much-needed shower.
    Dressed, refreshed, and hunger sated, Byron pulled the chair closer to his workstation. He updated the logs for both spacecraft, reviewing each one’s flight recordings in detail. Neither revealed numbers outside of the safety parameters, although the shuttle’s rapid acceleration had pushed the limits of the vessel’s capabilities. Scanning the passenger list once more, Byron glanced at his personal record. Despite Vorsan’s threat, no complaints were listed regarding today’s flight. Byron smiled as he recalled the man’s request for a smooth ride. Those words had almost demanded a response, and his fighter pilot instincts were too strong to pass up the opportunity.
    Shifting his weight, he leaned back in his chair. Byron’s gaze traveled to a photo resting beside his console. The dark metal frame showed signs of wear around the edges despite the durability of the alloy. Fortunately, the picture within was untouched by time. Over twenty years old, it was a memento of his days as Cosbolt pilot. His image revealed a much younger man, but Byron did not linger on that thought. It was the other man in the photo who held his attention.
    You would’ve advised against my stunt today, he thought, recalling his navigator’s views on discipline and proper procedures. However, Bassa had never denied his pilot the pleasure of an outlandish maneuver.
    But, it would’ve amused you, Byron concluded, a smile tugging at his lips.
    Mevine’s comment returned to his thoughts. The boy had meant no disrespect. However, it annoyed Byron that the young man knew so much of his past accolades while Bassa’s accomplishments were lost to memory. At one time, every man in the fleet knew the navigator’s name and regarded Bassa as a living legend. Byron could not think of another man he’d admired more. He would always consider Bassa his closest friend and brother in spirit.
    He reached for the photo, his hand lifting it with care into his lap. Byron stared at the figures leaning against the Cosbolt and felt a pang of regret. If only Bassa were alive to experience the life of exploration they’d planned. Byron had continued the course, but it was not the same without his friend and navigator.
    Grasping his computer pad,