Chapter 1.1

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Jason Sietinen sped through the training course in his fighter with practiced precision, using the neural link to operate the spacecraft as an extension of himself. He couldn't help grinning; the idea to volunteer as a space combat instructor had been a stroke of genius to get him flying again without shirking his leadership responsibilities. Stars, I've missed this!

As he finished his demonstration run, he was about to address his students when a presence at the edge of his consciousness broke his euphoria.

Jason's sight narrowed and the jovial chatter on the comms faded to the background. Intense fear gripped him, despite his training. He'd experience the same foreboding sensation once before, though he'd never been sure if it was real—a prophesy or a waking nightmare. No, we beat them. They're gone. This can't be right.

The darkness pressed against his mind, closing in around him. Such immense power, sinister and all-consuming. Memories of the past vision rushed back and merged with his present perception. His surroundings melted away, leaving only his heartbeat pounding in his ears. He was alone in the void, trapped by the crushing force. Something was coming...

And then it vanished.

Jason drew a deep breath of the crisp, oxygen-rich air to steady himself. What was that?

His students were still joking with each other on the comms, oblivious to what he'd felt. He wanted to tell himself it was just a bizarre manifestation of stress, but he'd learned to trust his instincts more than that.

"CACI," he addressed the onboard AI, "are you picking up any unusual readings?"

"Nominal," the synthetic female voice replied. Sensor data scrolled across the head-up display on the windshield, casting a soft red and blue glow inside the cockpit.

He reviewed the information on the HUD, seeing nothing of note. "What about any recently filed incident reports?"

"Specify parameters."

Truthfully, Jason didn't know what he was asking. He glanced at the young pilots waiting to take their first run in real fighters. If there wasn't immediate danger in the vicinity, then anything else could wait.

"Disregard."

He tried to suppress the uneasy feeling and return his attention to the lesson at hand.

"So that's how it's done. Easy, right?" Jason asked his students in a more upbeat tone than he felt.

"This is nothing like the sims," muttered Bret Hamlin, one of the Initiates. It was unclear if he'd meant to broadcast the sentiment on an open channel, but Jason wasn't about to let it slip by.

"In fact, it's exactly like the flight simulators. Though it might not look it while you're parked out here watching me do all the work, give yourself a chance to get a feel for the controls. You'll be surprised." The sleek fighters, styled with tapered wings and rear fins suited for both spaceflight and in-atmosphere combat, were an ideal practice craft to help the pilots hone their skills.

"I think it's pretty spot on so far," Alisha Delroe chimed in, always the suck-up.

Her teacher-crush had been obvious to Jason from day one, but he'd made a point to not encourage her. Frankly, he didn't have the time or energy to deal with it.

"Sampsen, you're up. Just a maneuvering run, no targets. Don't be a showoff," Jason instructed. He'd learned that the best approach to keeping the lesson on track was to cut off the side chatter before it took hold. Let the students start a discussion on matters of opinion, and that would be all they'd talk about for the rest of the day.

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