“Refill the tanks.” Marlon yelled as we lost altitude.

After completely purging the tanks to reach the balloon, we ran empty. So, we had no way of bracing ourselves from becoming a crater. And refilling our tanks would take hours to even have one minute of fuel. I stuttered as my body felt the acceleration. “We won’t do it in time.” I calculated our approximate impact. “Two minutes, then we are dead.” I tapped for the eject button beneath the seat. “We should eject.” But that meant failing our test. Even if it wasn’t stated anywhere, I was sure of it. Once we lose our Terran we’d fail. No Terran to deliver the flag and another busted machine. It would be two on our list.

I swiftly went to the system control on my display and started the recharge process. There was no chance in heaven for me to fail this test without dragging down my entire family. My mother’s disappointment would grow and probably dishonor me. My brother would have his chances of recovery reduced and my father – He would move on and find a way to get us by gardening.

The fuel bar barely showed one pixel. “0,1%.” I muttered while my hands returned to the eject lever. The trembling wouldn’t stop, neither wouldn’t my imagination stop running rampage. I already saw it in front of my eyes. Fury twisted my mother’s face while dad wept for me at the hospital’s bed. I probably wouldn’t feel anything.

Cold sweat ran down my temples, my limbs felt cold as the trembling worsened. It pained me to stay still. I hated it. I didn’t think Marlon emptied our tanks to have us refill one second for him to brace our impact. But if he braced us one second too late, we’d become part of a crater that teachers used as a counter argument why you should not do this maneuver.

He grunted while moving our arms to brace ourselves from the impact and started to count down the timer.

Just as the ground came in closer, the image of my hospital stay became more vivid.

Then he purged. I gasped for air as the sudden brace ragdolled us into the seat again. Everything hurt, it was like hitting a brick wall while we went at full speed. Which was close to it.

I groaned while I grabbed my neck to disperse the soreness. I wouldn’t want to repeat this ever again. But we made it through.

“Let’s get back to base.” Marlon said.

I zapped him the coordinates and direction, and he followed along.

We didn’t speak the entire ride back to home. There was nothing to say. Or so I thought, I wanted to scold him for not leaving enough fuel to brace, but as I ran through the calculations of what happened. We wouldn’t have retrieved the flag. I leaned back into my seat as I checked our status. Marlon was no ordinary pilot for sure. He should be in pain and we didn’t get any combat serum to kill our pain and enhance our senses. The entire status of Marlon blinked red and yellow. While I was spared with a few yellows, mostly my head and back.

Once we reached the base, the guards instructed us to return the Terran back into its harbor. And once in a stand-by position, or just standing in the middle of a hall I’d say, the mechanics came rolling the stairs and a pair of paramedics rushed up. One of them helped me get off the Terran and led me down the stairs. When I looked over my shoulder to get a glimpse of Marlon, I saw the other medic inject him with what I’d assume were painkillers.

I was led to face the commander, instructor and my mother. All three of them had a satisfied expression. A rare case for my mother. It took us more than one hour to finish the test. Unlike a mock battle which would go in five rounds, each with a fifteen minute break in between.

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

I saluted and continued to follow the paramedic back to the infirmary. It used to be smaller back when I was stationed here for my loss of control. A small room at most with ten beds, one scanner and two nurses who cared for the injured. The large hall replaced the small storage room of another hangar. A good choice, especially with the growth of this base. As it was one of the very few remaining stations that had the resources to fight off the Monoceros and train new pilots.

After laying down on a bed, a nurse put up a crown scanner for my head and several other buttons that stuck to my skin. She didn’t close the curtain. Knowing the procedure of everything drained my fear. They would check my activation chance, my health and how much stress it gave me. Yet, my fear didn’t dissipate completely. I saw the expressions of anyone who passed by my bed. Anger, fear, disgust, some even smiled which even disturbed me.

The instructor who was with the commander and my mother during the testing, walked up to my bed and sat down on a stool. He pulled over the table with computers that connected to me.

He seemed young, not too much older than my brother who already reached mid twenties. But with his hair already graying, from stress probably, he looked a few years older than he seemed to be. Then he checked the computer’s display and said. “I didn’t think you would get the machine moving. Well, Marlon can activate it himself, but even then he would’ve complained at least once that he was doing everything himself. Did he behave?”

“Hardly.” I sat up, my toes touched the ground. “Why did we get a search and retrieve mission, instructor –” I had a hard time knowing who he was. He didn’t even wear his name.

“Call me Ashford.” He mused. “Tactician Ironblood suggested testing you for certain missions.”

I laughed at the idea of planning cadets to mission while we thought we could fail at the last minute. They severely lacked pilots, soldiers and overall people. Well, of course. It was Ironblood herself who let pilots drop like flies. It was never stated on any tactic’s report, but it was evident from facts, strategy and resources, that Ironblood excused the loss of Terran’s and pilots for our greater good. She never lost many, but enough for us to lose in the long run if we didn’t change our tactic. And the sole reason for her to uphold her position was her fast reaction to change in losses. While we lost soldiers, they always lost more in her command at the end.

“Why would she plan test pilots for her future strategies?” I asked.

Instructor Ashford blinked at me, then blinked back to the computer. “You don’t need to know. Anyway, your activation chance is raised to the lowest threshold with 51%. That is enough to get you back as a pilot.”

Damn, I was happy. Maybe now I could redeem myself and make my mother happy again. But then I saw Marlon pass by, setting himself to the bed next to mine while the nurse closed the curtain between us.

This time I didn’t go berserk and destroy everything. But how would they react if it happened again? I clenched my thighs and my jaw again. “But should I be a pilot?”

He stared blankly, taking his time to think and probably come up with a proper answer for me. “We assume your loss of control will only happen as a heart pilot.”

If I’d be a pilot, then they let me be the mind pilot. I said. “Who would even pilot with me? Marlon?” No one else dared to pilot with me. It posed too much of a danger, even when they’d promise to ensure my partner’s safety. Again, what would they do once I’d lose control again? Turn our comrades on us? Shoot us down? No, all of those things would take way too long to stop me. “How sure are you even? What if I lose control and force full control of the Terran?” I spat. Ensure safety for the others.

“I don’t trust Tactician Ironblood’s choice to let you pilot again. But she convinced our commander to have you seat in the mind pilot.” Instructor Ashford answered. “And yes, Marlon will be your pilot. You will start your training starting tomorrow. Once Marlon has rested, he will show you your room.”

“I know my way to my room.” I said.

“Fine. Don’t be too late. 0500 in front of the T-Hangar.” Ashford turned his back to me. “And Marlon, this is your last chance.” He said before leaving us alone with the nurses.