It's A Deadly Job, But Somebody's Gotta Do It

Tempest continued to go, "Beep. Beep. Beep."

I took a slow, calming breath. "Why are you beeping?"

"The hangar doors are about to open."

"Then why didn't you just say the hangar doors were about to open?"

"Don't Badgers beep when the hangar doors are about to open?"

"Badgers don't have a sentient, language-capable AI on board!" I yelled. "And this isn't a Badger, it's a Fis-It's a Dragon!"

"I just wanted to make you feel at home," Tempest said dourly. In front of the ship, the hangar doors were opening. I grasped the flight controls and prepared for takeoff. "You might want to fasten your safety harness, Jon-Ah geez! If this subroutine's going to run every time you're about to do something stupid, this mission is going to be hell!"

I tightened my grip on the flight controls. "We agree on something else, Toolbox," I admitted. "This mission's gonna be hell!" I hit the accelerator without waiting for Tempest's sarcastic reply.

The fusion engines revved, and the ship shot out of the hangar. I was pressed against the seat, surprised by the thrust. I banked to the right as soon as we left the hangar, and again was astonished, this time by the Dragon's curve radius. "Yeeeehaaaa!" I yelled, forgetting for a moment the suicide mission on which I was being sent.

"We're not even going to make it to Braklarva III!" Tempest lamented.

I returned the flight controls to neutral and the Dragon came to an abrupt stop. I jerked forward in the seat, and my head hit the console. It would have hit a lot harder if not for my vice-like grip on the controls. "I told you to fasten your safety harness!" Tempest mocked.

"What happened?" I asked, a little dazed.

"You have the braking controls set to full stop! When you released the controls, the ship's engine compensated for our speed and brought us to a halt. If you want to coast, I suggest you flip the braking switch to neutral!"

Grumbling, I secured myself in the safety harness, flipped the braking switch, then rubbed the ache out of my head. I fooled around with the controls for a few minutes, playing with dials and switches. When I didn't know what something was, I asked Tempest.

His patience wore out quick. "Don't you want to get on with this?" he asked. "As much fun as I'm having, I'd rather get this mission done with so you can be on your way!"

"If you want even a minuscule chance of surviving," I told the computer, "I'm gonna need to know how to handle this ship. The controls are the same as a Badger, but she sure handles differently. Now shut up and let me fly!"

I hit the accelerator again, and the ship jumped into motion. I practiced doing some twists and turns, then aimed the Dragon at SO-3. I moved the throttle to full and the ship went screaming toward the station. At least, it would have been screaming if ships could talk and there were any sounds in space.

Tempest screamed on behalf of the ship, telling me that I was going to get us killed. I ignored the AI and kept the ship trained on the center of SO-3, until the station filled the cockpit's viewports.

When we were within five hundred meters of the ship, I pulled back on the flight controls. The Dragon responded effortlessly, and we flew past the station, missing the hull by a long seven meters.

I played around a little while longer, doing stunt flying and dangerous tricks. If Commander Fear was watching from his office, no doubt I'd get a reaming when . . . if . . . I returned. After a few minutes, Tempest's screams died to a pitiful whine.

Finally, I moved the Dragon out into space, a good two thousand kilometers from the nearest object. "Tempest, call up a chart for the Braklarva system."

It was on the vid-screen in an instant, and I studied it in silence. "Any suggestions?" I finally asked.