The practice cockpits, in T-Hangar, had been egg shaped tents for us to sit in and we were tasked to come with uniforms that they stored for us in our lockers. We lined up. Marlon stood at the other end of the line.

Instructor Ashford walked up to me and carefully spied on me, then as he moved to the next one his gaze moved on as well. Each step was accurate and each stare between blinks precise. I wondered how much the practices changed before I stopped piloting. I knew of two others who had at least one mock battle in a true Terran. And one of them had real experiences on top of it.

“You will practice in these.” He pointed at the mechanical tents. Instructor pushed a button next to the door and it moved upwards, revealing a very similar seat to the Terran from yesterday’s test. “And you are an even number of pilots, if there isn’t an equal number of mind and heart pilots then I will pick out unlucky birds.”

Everyone looked at their neighbors before the Instructor shooed them to get moving. This changed. The decision on who would be the mind and heart pilot. The instructor used to choose one dependent on their ability to react or compute data better. But he left us with a choice. Maybe they noticed that people who were forced to pair up would be less likely to work well together. Well, this was war. And we had to survive. Now with a proper defense, they seemed to give us more liberty.

Marlon walked up to me. “Let’s go.” He went to the first pair of practice tents. “We better start this early, so we get to the front line sooner.”

I watched the others slowly pair up while Dianeira was left alone with the last one to pair up with her.

Then I followed Marlon to the cockpit. “You better follow my suggestions then.”

“But they are just that, suggestions. I don’t have to follow them.”

“Then you waste our time and we won’t be deployed.”

Marlon turned around and grabbed me by my collar. “Listen, you might as well just sit in the backseat and enjoy the ride. I don’t want you, but I need another pilot to sit and behave.”

I got my face closer as my face was set aflame with irritation. “I could tell you the same. Don’t get in my way. I’d rather live than die with you.” I whispered. “I will give you data and you will listen to me.”

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

He pushed me back, wrinkled his nose and then slid into his seat without fighting back.

I felt my hands tremble again, and I hoped he didn’t notice it. He was just another pilot for me to survive in the frontlines. Pilots eventually changed their partners as either of them retired, moved base or died. I hopped into the other cockpit. I didn’t have any signs of losing control. I was sure of it. But not confident enough. It scratched at the back of my head, soft and creepy. I shook my head off to get rid of the feeling and put on the glove to activate my simulation. The display lit up and sent us to a Terran, standing outside the hangars. I activated the communications and transmitter. After that, I heard Instructor Ashford humm, while one Terran unit after another appeared on the comms list. Our unit was T-2 out of, at least, six.

“Cadets, you are tasked to defend the base while holding the following formation.” Instructor Ashford ordered. “The Monoceros are coming through the sky fifty kilometers north from your position. Shoot down as many and fight, as pairs, the remaining or any who try to run.”

Marlon moaned in disapproval. “Are they for real? Why are we tasked with this boring shit?”

I ignored his remarks and started processing the position and sent it over to Marlon’s map. Then as I peered over to the unused gauntlet on my other rest. Mind pilots only needed to operate with one gauntlet, regardless which side. The second one was necessary in emergencies, but even then, only with the approval from the commander and if the heart pilot was out of commission.

“We will move in V-formation.” A boy’s voice said from T-1.

T-1 until T-6 started moving in formation. Marlon hesitated. I looked down, while we were behind. He might’ve been from another base, but that didn’t excuse him to act out of formation. After all, we were an army and not independent fighters that could fight in a battle royal. Or at least, that was what I read from very few reports.

I signaled him to move. But he kept waiting.

“This is pointless.” He said.

I breathed out and explained. “This is how we do things here, tacticians present a mission plan or defense, and the commander decides which will be executed.”

“T-2, please move into formation.” T-1’s mind pilot said.

Marlon hit his rest, then moved us into formation to leave for our next target. Fifty kilometers north from here was over the seas between our island and the mainland. There was finesse with how we flew without any turbulence. T-3 kept wobbling. T-4 kept speeding. And the T-5 stuttered its arms too many times. T-1 and T-6 had experienced pilots. At least Dianeira should be in T-6, as she was the last to get a co-pilot.

After thirty minutes of flying, we reached our destination. I set the timer and spoke through the comms. “T minus five.” I had time to read our task. And from reading the location, time, formation and defense tactics were from Ironblood. Six units defended against ten Monoceros two years ago.

And the formation for six units was the clock.

Marlon, and any other heart pilot, hovered their Terrans just above the surface, with their backs down. While we, the mind pilots, had to target any descending Monocero, our counterpart had to shoot at once. Both had to be in sync.