Free Ep.#5 - "Rise of the Corinari" by Ryk Brown Page A

and on for the last thirty years himself, until recent events had forced them all from their homes. “There is a flight suit in the locker on the back wall,” he told Josh. “It should fit you well enough.”
    “Great,” Josh exclaimed as he headed toward the back of the hangar. “I can’t wait to hit FTL for the first time.”
    Marcus waited until Josh was out of earshot before speaking. “You sure you want to let him fly this thing? He’s a bit of a wild stick, you know.”
    “Yes, I am well aware of his unorthodox piloting style,” Tug assured Marcus.
    “Don’t know that I’d rightly call it a ‘style’,” Marcus observed.
    “Well, perhaps I can smooth out some of the rough edges,” Tug said as he started up the boarding ladder.
    “Save yourself some time,” Marcus sneered. “Skip the smoothing and go straight for the cutting.”
    Tug smiled at Marcus’s remarks as he climbed into the rear seat of the cockpit. It had been over thirty years since he had sat in the rear seat. That had been when he trained his last wingman back in his days with the Palee militia. “I will keep that strategy in mind,” he promised as he strapped himself into his flight seat.
    Marcus turned around to see Josh coming toward him wearing a baggy black Corinari flight suit and carrying a flight helmet. “I do believe the previous owner of that suit stood a bit taller than you,” he teased. “Probably had more meat on him as well.”
    “What are you talking about?” Josh said. “It fits fine. A little loose, maybe.”
    “As long as it seals up properly it will serve its purpose,” Tug assured him.
    Josh bounded up the boarding ladder, noticing that Tug had taken the back seat in the cockpit as he crested the top of the ladder. “I’m sitting first seat?” he asked, stunned.
    “If you are to fly this ship, that is the seat to do it from.”
    “Oh hell yes,” Josh stated excitedly.
    “I will get us airborne first,” Tug warned. “For now, you become acclimated to the controls and the flight displays.”
    “No problem.”
    Tug looked to Marcus as he handed Tug his flight helmet. “How are you getting back to the ship?”
    “I’ll be catching a ride up with the captain later,” he told him.
    “Very well,” Tug said, extending his hand. “Thank you for looking after my ship, my friend. It was greatly appreciated.”
    Marcus took Tug’s hand, shaking it for the first time since they had met in the galley over a week ago. “You’re welcome,” Tug answered, feeling guilty that he had called him a terrorist during that first meeting. “Just don’t let junior crash it.”
    “I will make certain he does not,” Tug promised as he donned his helmet and sealed it against the collar of his flight suit.
    Marcus picked up Josh’s helmet from beside the front seat and plopped it down over Josh’s head, sealing it up as well. “Do what the old guy tells you, kid,” he instructed. “I have a feeling he knows a bit more about flying than you do.”
    “No worries, Pops,” Josh promised as he examined the displays on the console in front of him.
    Marcus climbed down off the boarding ladder, released its brakes, and rolled it back away from the wedge-shaped spacecraft. After a second, the interceptor’s two reactor plants lit up and hummed to life, her engines turning over moments later. He eyeballed the floor of the hangar around the small ship, checking for any obstacles. When he was satisfied it was clear, he gave a thumbs up signal to Tug.
    The interceptor’s engines began to increase their pitch slightly and the warning lights on her underside began to flash, telling anyone who might be around that the spacecraft was now under her own power and was about to roll out of the hangar.
    Marcus grabbed the ear muffs that were hanging around his neck and put them on to protect his ears from the sound of the spacecraft’s engines as their pitch and volume continued to increase. He looked up at the cockpit of