Nathan controlled his surprise on seeing Worsfold’s lazy smile.
“Not this time, hotshot,” Worsfold said. “But I advise you to keep a check on your temper. It is unbecoming to an officer in the Corps, and will be a definite impediment to gaining your own command one day.”
“I’ll remember that, Skipper.”
“See that you do,” the commander said, with false gruffness. He shook his head again. “I have been training pilots for five years, and never in that time, never, has a trainee pilot tried something so — how did you put it — innovative.” He scratched the back of his head. “They don’t teach those sorts of maneuvers at the academy these days, do they?”
“It seemed like a good idea at the time.”
Worsfold failed to respond to his attempted witticism.
“It was … instinctual. I guess it comes from all the time I spent in the sims at the academy. I started in my first year, and I suppose the training has stuck.”
“First year?” His eyebrows arched curiously, a smile pinching the corners of his mouth. “Since when are plebes allowed simulation time?”
Nathan attempted to force a wry smile, but the effect felt self-consciously deformed.
CHAPTER 2
Body and spirit I surrendered whole to harsh instructors — and received a soul. Rudyard Kipling, ‘The Wonder’, Epitaphs , 1919 AD.
Date: 8 th September, 321 ASC.
Position: Monitor Corps Fighter Training School, Minos, planet Crete, Athenian core systems.
Status: Metier Training. Downtime.
Nathan stepped from the simulator training building into bright afternoon sunshine. The early spring breeze carried a biting edge common for the planet’s southern hemisphere at this time of the year. The blue sky was clear except for the occasional high-altitude vapor trail from a training flight. Taking a sharp left turn at the administration building set him on a course for the junior officers’ quarters.
The day after graduation he and Livy, now free of academy restrictions, had married. Nathan had been deeply touched that the one hundred and twenty Kendo team members had delayed their furloughs by a day to form an enormous arch of raised swords to greet the newly married couple as they exited the chapel.
His nine months at Minos had rushed by with unnerving pace. Every year, the school accepted a mere one hundred and ten of the academy’s best into their advanced training course, Metier. Officially attached to Training Command’s Flight Training Center, Metier compressed a two-year flight training schedule into a highly intensive twelve months.
On the morning of his first day on Minos, he reported to the base infirmary for his communication implants.
Moe had needed to restrain him when one of the quacks said the words guaranteed to boil his blood.
“Don’t worry, this won’t hurt a bit.”
Quick and painless, the quacks said. A week after the “painless” procedure, all of the trainees were having difficulty swallowing and some continued to suffer from ringing in the ears. The experience did nothing to lessen Nathan’s hatred of medicos.
At the base administration building, he was assigned to a training flight. Fortunately, Monitor Corps believed in keeping a working team together. Nathan and three of his teammates who had distinguished themselves while serving aboard the monitor Truculent were assigned to Epsilon Flight. The rest of the team comprised star students from the academy’s Kendo teams, all of them known to him.
Initially, the Epsilon students did cartwheels when they heard Commander Henry Worsfold, call sign “Skipper”, had been appointed as their senior training officer. Athletically lean and slightly taller than Nathan, with gold wings on his flight suit, he was a giant in the trainees’ eyes. The commander had once skippered a monitor. Nathan could not help wondering what could possibly have induced a man like Worsfold to relinquish command of his own boat for the mundane duties of
“Not this time, hotshot,” Worsfold said. “But I advise you to keep a check on your temper. It is unbecoming to an officer in the Corps, and will be a definite impediment to gaining your own command one day.”
“I’ll remember that, Skipper.”
“See that you do,” the commander said, with false gruffness. He shook his head again. “I have been training pilots for five years, and never in that time, never, has a trainee pilot tried something so — how did you put it — innovative.” He scratched the back of his head. “They don’t teach those sorts of maneuvers at the academy these days, do they?”
“It seemed like a good idea at the time.”
Worsfold failed to respond to his attempted witticism.
“It was … instinctual. I guess it comes from all the time I spent in the sims at the academy. I started in my first year, and I suppose the training has stuck.”
“First year?” His eyebrows arched curiously, a smile pinching the corners of his mouth. “Since when are plebes allowed simulation time?”
Nathan attempted to force a wry smile, but the effect felt self-consciously deformed.
CHAPTER 2
Body and spirit I surrendered whole to harsh instructors — and received a soul. Rudyard Kipling, ‘The Wonder’, Epitaphs , 1919 AD.
Date: 8 th September, 321 ASC.
Position: Monitor Corps Fighter Training School, Minos, planet Crete, Athenian core systems.
Status: Metier Training. Downtime.
Nathan stepped from the simulator training building into bright afternoon sunshine. The early spring breeze carried a biting edge common for the planet’s southern hemisphere at this time of the year. The blue sky was clear except for the occasional high-altitude vapor trail from a training flight. Taking a sharp left turn at the administration building set him on a course for the junior officers’ quarters.
The day after graduation he and Livy, now free of academy restrictions, had married. Nathan had been deeply touched that the one hundred and twenty Kendo team members had delayed their furloughs by a day to form an enormous arch of raised swords to greet the newly married couple as they exited the chapel.
His nine months at Minos had rushed by with unnerving pace. Every year, the school accepted a mere one hundred and ten of the academy’s best into their advanced training course, Metier. Officially attached to Training Command’s Flight Training Center, Metier compressed a two-year flight training schedule into a highly intensive twelve months.
On the morning of his first day on Minos, he reported to the base infirmary for his communication implants.
Moe had needed to restrain him when one of the quacks said the words guaranteed to boil his blood.
“Don’t worry, this won’t hurt a bit.”
Quick and painless, the quacks said. A week after the “painless” procedure, all of the trainees were having difficulty swallowing and some continued to suffer from ringing in the ears. The experience did nothing to lessen Nathan’s hatred of medicos.
At the base administration building, he was assigned to a training flight. Fortunately, Monitor Corps believed in keeping a working team together. Nathan and three of his teammates who had distinguished themselves while serving aboard the monitor Truculent were assigned to Epsilon Flight. The rest of the team comprised star students from the academy’s Kendo teams, all of them known to him.
Initially, the Epsilon students did cartwheels when they heard Commander Henry Worsfold, call sign “Skipper”, had been appointed as their senior training officer. Athletically lean and slightly taller than Nathan, with gold wings on his flight suit, he was a giant in the trainees’ eyes. The commander had once skippered a monitor. Nathan could not help wondering what could possibly have induced a man like Worsfold to relinquish command of his own boat for the mundane duties of
Similar Books
Dispatches From a Dilettante
Paul Rowson
Why the Devil Chose New England for His Work
Jason Brown
Center Field
Robert Lipsyte
The Cutting Season
Attica Locke
Praxis
Fay Weldon
Cinder X (Death Collectors, #2)
Jessica Sorensen
07. Ghost of the Well of Souls
Jack L. Chalker
A Mother's Guide to Raising Healthy Children--Naturally
Sue Frederick