OTF's Blue Publication June 2011
Chapter One - Escape!: Part 2
"Keenest Flyer, you are cleared for departure." Even as Tess pronounced the words, Seb gripped the throttle, his knuckles white. He leaned forward and peered out for one last look. His stress-reddened, grey-brown eyes surveyed the planet beneath him. He was struck by how serene it looked - the deep, crystal blue oceanic expanse, the mottled, green-brown landscape, even the gray-white mass of storm clouds over the tropical, coconut palmed islands. How serene...how ironically serene!
He looked straight ahead, braced himself against his seat, and jammed the throttle forward. Seb was soon in the blackness of space, stars dotting the sky all around him, his own planet's parent star, Canaris, no longer the only object visible. Then the realization hit him...he had engaged his throttle too abruptly and was accelerating far too rapidly! He was already much farther ahead of his escort than prudence dictated! "Damn it!" he yelled aloud. "How the could I make such a stupid mistake!?"
Seb had to compensate and he had to work quickly. He couldn't just fire his braking thrusters, lest he undo a hepter's preparation. He had to fire his port braking thrusters only while simultaneously firing the proper combination of his lateral steering thrusters in order to slow his ship, maintain its path and maintain its forward orientation. As his heart reached his throat and his forehead went fluid, he initiated the maneuver and his ship began decelerating toward the prescribed velocity, albeit less quickly than he would have liked, but he attained the stability he needed. Then, he saw it - a pulsar cannon shot across and just ahead of his bow.
Seb then heard in his comset. "Not a good way to start the dero, wouldn't you say?" Seb's escort revealed nothing in his tone.
His ship now under control, Seb replied somewhat nervously, "Sticky throttle. Thought I’d it fixed, but I guess I didn’t do a very good job." Then he spoke matter of factly. "You didn't have to shoot, ya know. You could catch me in no time, even if I were in max hyper drive."
"I know. That was just a gentle reminder." Still, he revealed nothing.
"I'll make an entry in my log so I don't forget." The sarcasm in his reply was only thinly disguised.
Seb didn't know what to make of this Bendavi. He didn't have the slightest clue. Was he a gung-ho starfighter pilot hungry for a medal? Was he really trigger happy. Or was he one of those pilots with a "sense of humor?" Was he the easy going type? He seemed all business, but that wasn't necessarily his true nature. Then again, it could just well be. One thing was certain - Bendavi was not one to be underestimated.
Seb wanted to engage him in conversation, but this was one of those rare times when he just didn't know how to start. He began to weigh several alternatives. He could try a straight forward introduction, an indirect approach involving sports, women, or his and Bendavi’s respective exploits as pilots (He knew instinctively to stay away from politics due to the present situation, and religion simply never entered his mind). Perhaps a confrontation, a direct challenge might spur his companion to respond. Bendavi's aloof coolness, though, caused Seb to doubt that he would be conversant at all. All Seb could do for now was to wait and hope for an opening, so wait he did, his mind absorbed in thought. He wouldn't have to wait long.