Wings of Honor by Craig Andrews

Author:Craig Andrews [Andrews, Craig]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: My Story Productions
Published: 2021-03-18T22:00:00+00:00

23

Cockpit, Nighthawk

Alpha Centauri System, Proxima B

Coda’s heart was in his throat. Adrenaline coursed through his veins, making his hands tremble, his movements sharp. The Jamestown was little more than a shadow against the orange glow of Proxima B, but its subtle shifting out his starboard window, coupled with the null gravity, was more than enough to send his body into a panic.

Up became down and down became sideways as he fought to find some semblance of gravity. In that terrible moment, he realized that regardless of how realistic the simulator was, nothing could ever truly replicate the experience of spaceflight.

“Breathe,” said a calming voice on his radio. Who? Who was talking to him? “Breathe, Coda.” Commander Coleman’s X-23 appeared at Coda’s wing, close enough that Coda could see the other man seated inside the cockpit. “Just follow the blues of my thrusters. Acknowledge?”

“Acknowledged,” Coda said, forcing the words through the lump in his throat.

Commander Coleman’s fighter moved ahead of Coda’s effortlessly. Coda took a deep breath then pushed the throttle forward with his left hand, increasing speed, and formed up behind Commander Coleman’s left wing in the dash-two position, using the blue of his Shaw Drive thrusters as much as the navigational path that had popped up on his HUD. They followed the path for several minutes, leaving the various orbits of fleet ships and satellites behind.

“All right, Coda. Just like we practiced in the simulator. Stay with me.”

Commander Coleman’s fighter rocketed forward, quickly leaving Coda behind. With the aid of his computer, Coda initiated his main thrusters and matched speed. One second, he was moving at a comfortable five kilometers per second; the next, he was moving at more than twice that. Thrown back in his seat, with what felt like the weight of the world on his chest, he finally understood what five G’s truly felt like, and along with the sensation came something else: true, unbridled joy.

Letting out a long yell, Coda fell in behind Commander Coleman, but because the commander had launched forward before him, the blue of his thrusters appeared as little more than a pair of blue stars shining in the distance. Coda brought up his targeting computer, identified Commander Coleman’s ship, and locked on. No sooner had he done so than the commander strafed right, turning forty-five degrees.

Coda followed, and the G’s increased. If he hadn’t been harnessed in so tightly, he would have been thrown against the left side of his cockpit. As it was, his body cried out against the restraints, and he could feel the blood inside his body forced from his extremities. The flight suit tightened, compensating for the movement, keeping the blood where it belonged and preventing him from blacking out.

Before he’d fully adjusted to the sensation, the commander turned again, bringing his fighter around ninety degrees to the left. Coda followed again, and again, the harness and flight suit adjusted for the increased g-forces. Coda still felt his vision grow fuzzy.

This is going to take a lot of getting used to.

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