Part 2: Start at the Beginning He Said
13 Dec 2020Seajays
I tentatively reached out, took the data core between my fingers as if to examine it, cradled it in the palm of my hand, all the while my mind was racing. This could be it. The break I needed – finally something good happening to me… I froze as that thought collided with the words I’d just heard uttered.
My father was dead. It had been fifteen years since I last saw him in person. Six years since the final fateful message that had started my mother on her self-destructive spiral. A cold ember of hate stirred – the heat of anger long since extinguished, it still called out to me to throw this back at this stranger, to refuse anything that had come from him. To spit in the face of a dead man.
But what good would that do? I looked at the commander opposite me. “How did you find me?”, I asked.
“Oh he knew where you were”, he said, waving his hand dismissively, “or at least he knew which stations you’d passed through. He’d ask around from time to time when we were in the sector – we’d have to stop off somewhere to see if anyone had heard anything. Once he got word of you, that would satisfy him enough.”
Again, the ember stirred, threatening to burst back into flames. So he was satisfied. No thought for me. No thought for mother. Just himself. It’s all he ever did. Was I supposed to feel grateful somehow, that he bothered to check up on me? Was that supposed to mean something? Was I supposed to get some glimmer of insight into his tortured soul? I pushed the thoughts away – this wasn’t going to get me anywhere.
“You’ve done the flight sims?”, he said looking at me again.
Sure. Everyone had done the sims. Those flight training programmes designed to identify the best pilots. Those that passed with flying colours would be funded right through the Pilots Federation training. They’d never look back. It was the golden ticket – no one passed up the opportunity to try out. So, I’d taken the training, done the tests, and passed – as a competent pilot. Competent. Not great, not some stellar hot shot. Certainly not good enough to have the red carpet rolled out for me straight into the Pilots Federation. Sure I could have put myself through the full training – but that takes credits – and lots of them. Credits I didn’t have. Until now.
“Yeah I did the sims”, I said, “passed OK”.
He shrugged. “There you go then. Nothing to worry about. Now’s your chance to go to the next stage. Seize it boy, life doesn’t often throw you second chances.”, and with that he started to rise, “Anyway, I’ve done what I promised I would. What you do now is up to you.”
“I don’t even know your name?”, I said, suddenly back into that whirlwind of confused emotion, stalling, trying to buy time.
“Commander Jace”, he paused, “but I don’t think we’ll meet again. Well, not if you choose a better path than you father did anyway. You know he’d tell some stories of the things that had happened when he’d been with you. You should write them down. You never know, if you ever make it big time, people will pay good money for that stuff”.
I let out a snort of laughter. “I wouldn’t know where to start.”, I said, as I rolled my eyes at the thought.
He fixed me with one last stare. “Start at the beginning”, he said, and with that he walked out of the bar, leaving me with quite a few decisions to make.
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❰❰❰ Part 1: Just a Better Dressed Rat ❰❰❰
