Part of Starbase Bravo: 2401: Mission 2

A Modern-Day Memphis Belle, Part 4: Afterburn

Golf-One-Cyan
April 2401
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The Apsara-class bomber dropped out of warp on final approach to Starbase Bravo. Dawa was piloting still; their simple training exercise had become much more than they had bargained for, and she wanted to give the ensign time to decompress on their way home.

Well, that was part of it. The truth was that she was frazzled as well, and she needed the pilot’s seat to re-center herself. When it came right down to it, being a pilot–even in the depths of a gas giant’s atmosphere–was easy. Being a superior officer and mentor was far more difficult.

Commander Vlček, B728 is cleared for docking in Golf-One-Cyan 330-Gamma.

Copy that,” said Dawa, and though she was meticulous and careful as ever in the maneuver, she was still able to keep one eye on Cam as they returned to the hangar.

Cam’s eyes remained fixed on the ever-shifting panorama beyond the canopy. Minutes stretched into an eternity as he contemplated the day’s events. The vivid memories played out before him like a movie, each frame etching itself into his consciousness with remarkable clarity.

Flying again had been a euphoric rush. The thrill of piloting the spacecraft, the sensation of freedom had flooded his senses. With every maneuver, he felt the adrenaline surge through his veins, coursing with precision during the intense target practice that followed.

Later, the mood darkened like a storm cloud. Moments after they saved the cadets one of them had died before Cam’s disbelieving eyes. The memory of that lifeless figure haunted him, its haunting presence lingering in the depths of his mind. Helplessness and despair had gripped him tightly, squeezing the breath from his chest. It was a moment that already etched itself into his soul, a moment where hope seemed all but lost.

Against the odds, Stinsfor had appeared on the horizon like a beacon of salvation. Swift, unwavering efforts from the medical team had resuscitated the fallen cadet, defying the grim specter of death. In that stark contrast between despair and hope, Cam found himself forever changed, hardened.

This day would not fade easily from Cam’s memory. He would relive it in his dreams and his waking hours. He couldn’t wait to share this extraordinary tale with Ozzy, his younger brother who, in his childhood, had endlessly bored Cam with his scientific obsessions. He chuckled as he imagined Ozzy’s eyes widening in amazement at the story he would recount.

Suddenly, Cam snapped back to the present as the landscape outside shifted once more. They were on the cusp of returning home, greeted by the familiar hanger doors and the cold hues of the force field. Despite the day’s turbulent events, Cam felt a sense of disappointment as it drew to a close. The tranquility that now enveloped them was a stark departure from the day’s chaos, but deep down, he found himself reluctant for it to end. He knew that he would soon return to the routine of air traffic duty, a prospect that didn’t quite match the exhilaration he had experienced today.

Cam’s shoulders slumped, his breath escaping in a long, heavy sigh that seemed to carry the weight of his soul, conveying the depth of his emotions without words.

Dawa covertly noted the roller-coaster of emotions playing through Cam’s body language, but she remained silent as she landed and powered down the bomber. When she did turn to face him, she merely gestured towards the hatch and waited until he was halfway down the ladder to follow him out.

Finally, when they were both on the hangar floor, Dawa reached over and gave Cam a gentle pat on the back. “Well, Cam, I’m sorry our training session got so out of hand, but you handled yourself exceptionally well today. I think tradition says I owe you a drink the next time we’re both off duty.”

“Another thing,” she said more quietly. “It’s bad form to poach another department’s crew their first week on the job, but I’ve got my eyes on you, so you keep your nose to the grindstone and your record clean. You copy?”

A faint, conspiratorial smile crept onto Cam’s lips as he raised his hand in a sharp salute to Dawa. He held the Commander’s gaze for a moment before punctuating the salute with a subtle but playful wink.

“Well, Commander, as of this moment, I’m officially off duty. Maybe we can delve into the finer points of how I can continue to keep my record spotless?” Cam’s tone suggested a willingness to engage in a subtle dance of negotiation.

Dawa nodded, broadly and theatrically. “I think now would be a perfect time to uphold tradition, then!”

“Follow me, though,” she added, as she led them towards the turbolift. “You haven’t been here long enough to know where the good bars are at.”