Axel Ford had been waiting for this day for what felt like eternity. He watched the clock and eagerly waited for the bell to ring. It was just his luck the day had been extended by an extra hour due to the upcoming meeting of the Galactic Council.
His teacher, Commander Brixton, was a stern Vaxorian. His pencil-thin figure tucked tight in a grey tunic and puffy black trousers. Medals adorned his chest. His black moustache twitched and his serious eyes glared at them. Vaxorians looked similar to humans. It was only their multi-coloured fins in place of ears which allowed you to tell them apart. Brixton tapped the large screen projected before him. "This will be your quarters for the night. Lights out at ten. If I hear one of you up and about, the whole squad will miss out on the event. Any questions?"
No-one spoke a word. There were six of them. Over the last five years, they'd had to get to know each other pretty well. As a group of human slaves, each of them had chosen to go into the military to join the defence group of Valaxoria. None of them wanted boring jobs working for their snobbish Vaxorian Masters.
Nitwit, a sandy haired boy with a sarcastic smile shot up his hand. "Will we have to share bathrooms or do we get an ensuite and the ritz treatment?"
They all smirked. There was a reason Nitwit had earned his name.
Brixton rolled his eyes. "Any sensible questions?"
"Will we get a bathroom break during the day?" asked Scout. Always the prim and proper one, sensibility was Scout's middle name. She had a round boisterous face. Always eager to learn, she often asked the questions Axel didn't think of.
"The meeting will have two intervals," replied Brixton. "Remember, this is an annual event and all of the best pilot squadrons have attended over the years. By allowing you see the inner workings of the Valaxoria/ Ivarozza government, it is our hope you can do your bit to ensure the peace treaty remains."
It was a secret to no-one that, for the last twenty years, the Vaxorians and Ivarozzans had brought their Eternal Wars to an end. The Galactic Council was there to make sure things stayed that way.
Rolly, a scrawny seventeen year old with the face of a rat, scoffed. "What's the point in having a military if we never intend to use it?"
Brixton's face turned red. "You think it's good to fight, do you boy?"
Rolly blushed. "I just meant the Valaxoria government spends a lot of money on the program for us to sit around and do nothing the rest of our lives."
"Don't be a donut, Rolly," snapped Striker. The nineteen year old sat next to Axel was the oldest in the team and also the best friend he’d ever had. Sadly, he had failed the final exam twice. He was amazing at the practical but the written test always let him down. He looked at Rolly, his eyes filled with glee. "We both know you'd be barrel rolling out of all the fights anyway."
The entire class snickered. They all remembered early in their training when Rolly had lost control of his Viper-Storm VI a little too often. If they failed any of the early simulations, it could usually be put down to Rolly spinning his ship the wrong way. Quite like Nitwit, he'd earned his name.
Brixton nodded towards Striker. "Mr. Thomas makes a good point. And would you rather be out there killing the children of other people's families?" snapped Brixton. "Because that's what war is about. Many innocent people fighting and dying for a cause they might never see come about. Your ancestors would be ashamed of that kind of attitude."
While he would never admit it, Axel understood where Rolly was coming from. The amount of time and effort the Vaxorian's put into training them seemed like a waste of time. Considering the fact they were no longer at war.
Still Axel's father had told him the stories. The horrors they witnessed. It was much better to be on the same side as the Ivarozzans than against them. The only reason Axel signed on for the military scheme was to become a pilot like his father. If ever the time came that the peace treaty was over he wanted to do his bit too.
The bell finally rang. Axel collected his stuff together in his bag and swung it over his shoulder.
Striker slapped him on the back. "The big day is it, mate?"
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Axel grinned.
"You mean you're finally gonna stop going on about it?" Striker teased.
"I don't mention it that much," Axel protested.
"Only about five times an hour for the last three years," Striker quipped as Scout caught up to them.
"Great to hear about your Dad, Axel," she said.
"Careful mate," Striker mocked. "She's just looking for information about that top secret mission he went on."
Scout blushed. "Shut up, no I'm not. I just think it's nice they can finally see each other again is all."
Axel agreed with her. The last three years had been both painfully slow and strangely quick. His training had intensified so that kept him pretty busy. But in those dark moments in the night he felt as if the day his Dad returned would never come.
He said goodbye to his friends and made his way down the street. A bright yellow hover car sat waiting. He dropped into the passenger seat and Wizan, a big burly Vaxorian with deep blue fins and laughter lines, shot him a grin. "Brixton been talking your ear off again?"
"As usual," Axel laughed and Wizan joined him. They'd been close ever since he could remember. "Did Dad get back yet?"
Wizan shook his head. "Activity in the asteroid belt. His craft has been slowed down. We should just about make it before it pulls into the port."
Axel's heart leapt.
His father, Quentin Ford, wasn't just his hero. He was known in Valaxoria as the person who helped them form a peace treaty with the Ivarozzan attackers. Wizan put the hover car into gear and pulled onto the road. Axel watched as the city soared by them. Displinica was a beautiful sprawling planet lit up by its gorgeous orange sun. The city was split into several districts. Axel spent most of his time in the Learning District, a place where human students went to study. Despite his training, he still had duties to perform for Wizan. Unlike most humans, his Vaxorian Master was also his friend.
Wizan owed his father, Quentin had saved his family during the Eternal Wars and, ever since, he'd agreed to give the Fords a good home. Axel's mother died before he got to know her. Wizan had always tried to maintain a good home life for him.
They'd been hyped up about his father's return since the day he left. Axel had been keeping a count of the remaining days on the wall in his bedroom. The previous night he'd scratched off the last.
As one of the best pilots Valaxoria had ever known, Axel's father was often sent on undercover missions. This one had been the longest yet. He remembered the day it had been announced. It was the day of Axel's fourteenth birthday. His father had held onto the information until the night fell.
Then he'd taken Axel out to his Viper-Storm and the two had flown into space. It was the only time he'd ever been there. They'd whooped and cheered as Quentin showed off. They'd gone up to the asteroid belt and he'd allowed Axel to try shooting some debris. It had been the best day of his life. Then his father broke the news.
Axel remembered the wet salty tears that ran down his cheek, the prospect of three years without his father seemed impossible.
"By the time I return, you'll almost be a fully qualified pilot," his father had said. "Next time we come up here son, we'll be together again. We might even work together."
Those were the words which had spurred him on. The time he had caused the entire squad to be benched (he’d accidentally overshot their simulated landing) when everyone had been frustrated. Wizan had reminded him of his father's words. Those same words helped him to survive the three year wait and finally his father was coming home.
A red light flashed up on Wizan's hover monitor. It revealed that Cryztal, his wife, was calling. He shot Axel a 'let me get this' look and clicked the button to receive it. A holographic image of her slender form crackled on.
"Have you picked him up yet?" asked Cryztal. "Dinner's been ready for about an hour."
Wizan gave her his most charming smile. "My darling, don't you remember. Axel's class overran today."
Cryztal's usually light blue fins shone red. "You must have forgotten to mention."
"We won't be long," he said. "We're just pulling into the station now."
Cryztal rolled her eyes. "Fine, but don't be much longer."
She hung up on them. Wizan had told her about the class overrunning. He had been there. She just didn't approve of Wizan going out of his way to help a human out.
Wizan shot him an awkward smile. He stayed silent. Something he had learned was the best thing to do when Wizan and his wife had an argument.
The hover car came to a stop and Axel threw his bag over his back. It wasn't until they walked up the stone steps to the entrance of the space port that Axel noticed anything strange.
The tangle of voices up ahead. There was a collection of people all shouting at each other. Mostly Vaxorians, but some humans were in the mix too. Axel recognised some of them from the day he had waved his father off.
Wizan walked over to one of them. "What's going on?"
"Discovery craft Nine Two Zero," said the Vaxorian. "It's vanished."
Axel's heart sank. That was the craft his father was on.
Wizan frowned. "What do you mean vanished?"
"They've lost the track on it," said the Vaxorian. "It was supposed to arrive a few hours ago."
"I know, but there was activity on the asteroid belt," said Wizan.
The Vaxorian shook his head. "No activity that we've logged."
Axel couldn't believe what he was hearing. He tried to choke back the rising panic. "But it can't have just disappeared. Surely it is just running late."
"We've never lost a tracker before," said the Vaxorian. "Whatever happened, we know that craft isn't coming back."
Axel dropped to the floor. This couldn't be happening. His father had promised. He looked at Wizan, who shot him an apologetic look. There was nothing that was going to change this. His father was lost, possibly for good.