Second submission for round 4.

VX2

By Hazen Wardle

Thankfully this barren rock has a breathable atmosphere. My life pack only contained a very limited
amount of clean air. The oxygen-converter in my suit could have supplied me with air for years, but it
was damaged when I got hit. Additionally, food will be a problem in a few hours.

I shouldn’t have even been here. Though the VX2 is a new ship and I have only logged a few quick
simulator hours, I am a veteran pilot. I can fly anything. Give me a barn, and I’ll fly it. I’m that good.

But this isn’t about me. It’s about the idiots in my squad. We were on a scouting mission, primarily. This
system consists of only five planets orbiting star HD45634 in the constellation Canis Major. We are on
our way through the area and decided to stop in for a look. It had been known for centuries this star
had at least two planets, and our own deep space scans revealed three additional planets, one in the
habitable zone.

“We’re half a light year from the SSS Nosugref. Admiral Meeker won’t know a thing.” That was the only
thing Downie had to say—the other two guys in the squad follow him like lemmings; I don’t even know if
they can talk! (But that is another story in itself)

None of the planets were worth much, and this is the only one with any sort of worthwhile atmosphere
to speak of—I suppose we could send in a team of mining engineers, but we all know it would end up
being run by poor people forced into slavery by some big power-hungry multi-national conglomerate.

Anyway, Downie and the guys decided it would be fun to see if their VX2’s could reach light-speed while
in orbit. Well, ok, maybe I’m exaggerating a little here. But they did want to race around this rock at top
speed. “Look at me! Look at me! Right turns only!” Downie yelled as he laid down the laps between the
planet and its asteroid of a moon.

So I’m holding orbit at 250k watching the idiots make fools of themselves. The three of them were
making me dizzy, but that’s not the reason why I’m stuck here. Yeah, yeah. I’m getting to it.

The guys got tired after something like a fifty or a hundred laps so they get this bright idea to buzz me.
They get into the classical delta formation and zoom right past me. The problem is, they seem to have
forgotten we were in space. Yeah, shock-waves and the like don’t form in a vacuum, so, like the moron’s
they are, they simply sped right past me.

Their trajectory was alarmingly close to the upper atmosphere, and they were nowhere ready to
land. All three of them actually dipped into the mesosphere, and I could see the plasma trails burning
behind them as they arced over the planet, disappearing from sight as they curved down and around the
backside.

I waited only just a few moments before I moved from my orbit, only then because they did not return.
They were on a very steep decent and it is very likely they were all caught in the planets gravity well.
Additionally, I could not raise them on the comm.

Time to go to rescue.

I eased on around the planet, sensors in all spectrums sweeping back and forth. I broke a sweat, and
that’s not typical of me. Believe me, on any other day I could care less if these idiots offed themselves
with one of their stunts. But in this current situation I needed them as much as they needed me. We
were a team, at least until we return to the SSS Nosugref—at which time I am seriously considering
asking for a transfer. I need to get with a squad that I matter to, a squad that cares more about the job
at hand than about horsing around.

As I am working my way around the planet I listen for any distress signals on the comm, but I hear
nothing. I scan the whole band and—

—an eye-searing flash of light and I suddenly find myself falling toward the planet. Something has hit
me, but I don’t have time to think about what. I’m in a flat spin and my controls only partially respond.
My reactions are automatic—as I said before, I’ve spent many hours in the sims, for this and other craft.
I manage to reduce the spin but I know I’m going down, that can’t be helped at this point. I launch a
distress probe at the last minute and ride it out as long as I dare. There is no way this bird will ever land
safely, so my only option is to eject.

At ten-thousand feet I pull the handle. The canopy ejects—two hundred years since the first jet
airplanes and they are still using ejection seats and detachable canopies—I can’t do anything about that
right now, but believe me, I do have some ideas on improvement.

The chute pops and I am jerked up and away from the derelict craft. I reach for the control handles and
angle toward the falling VX2. I am able to see the extent of the damage now. One wing is completely
missing and the other has a nice, round hole in the middle of it. It drops away and crashes, a smoky,
billowing cloud blooms a mile below me. I angle away from it knowing there would be nothing
salvageable.

I survey the landscape as I glide down, and I see no sign of the others. I am on my own.

Once I have landed all I can do now is wait. Hopefully my probe reaches the ship soon; I’d rather not be
stranded here any longer than necessary, and with those holes in what was my wings— something put
them there. This planet was presumed uninhabited, so I hope I am found by my people and not by the
natives. This whole situation could have been avoided.

So here I sit, waiting on someone.

I hear the comm in my helmet, and before I can pick it up I hear a ship descending in the background. I
look and realize today is not my lucky day. We were supposed to be alone out here in this sector. Turns
out we were wrong.

That is not an SSS Ship.

That’s the Telsnerians; the most fearsome race in the galaxy.