Free Fringe Runner (Fringe Series Book 1) by Rachel Aukes

helped her learn faster, and a habit she’d never given up. Thankfully, she no longer voiced each and every keystroke that she used to be so keen on doing.
    “Jump shields are active at one hundred percent,” she said before adding, “Bring on the rocks.”
    The Space Coast filled the view screen, a majestic expanse that was both awe striking and ominous. Reyne found it surreal—a three-dimensional black beach of rocks, some large enough to hold the entire CUF fleet, while others were small pebbles. The belt moved slowly. One would have to watch the asteroids for some time to discern any hint of movement. However, the devils would sneak up on a pilot if he weren’t paying attention.
    The Space Coast was a dangerous beauty.
    It’d been too long since he’d been out there. When he returned from CUF service, he practically lived on the Coast. He honed his skills on the Coast, constantly pushing himself to fly faster and turn harder as he made the annual Coastal Run. He never won, but he always placed in the top ten, and—more importantly—he always survived.
    Seeing the Coast made Reyne regret that he’d been too protective of Throttle. She would love flying the Coastal Run, and, unlike him, she’d win.
    An alarm beeped, warning them they’d broken the Space Coast barrier. Autopilot would no longer be available, because the Coastal grid was constantly changing, not that Throttle would ever dream of using autopilot out here.
    “Looks like I’m just in time.”
    Reyne turned around to see Sixx take a seat and strap in. “Damn, the Coast sure is a sight. It’s been too long.”
    “Yeah.” Reyne’s nostalgia disappeared when the Gryphon veered a hard left. With his attention back on the view panel, he watched as Throttle maneuvered around a cluster of mid-sized rocks, making sharp turns…on purpose.
    His eyes widened as a brown rock became a bull’s-eye on the view panel. “Throttle, I assume you see the ship-killer at our twelve o’clock.”
    “Relax, I’ve got it,” she said before banking right and narrowly missing the boulder.
    “Cutting it a little close, are we?” Sixx asked.
    Throttle grinned.
    The rocks became fewer and larger, and Reyne relaxed in his seat and began to zoom in on the larger asteroids.
    “Hm,” Throttle said.
    Reyne looked up. “What’s wrong?”
    “This is nothing compared to outrunning a star swarm,” she replied.
    “Think of it this way,” Sixx began. “The life expectancy of a pilot in a swarm is roughly eight point two seconds. Then, compare that to the Coast where people choose to live out nice, semi-long lives. So yeah, the two are nothing alike.”
    Her shoulders slumped. “I know, but I didn’t expect flying the Coast to be so boring .”
    “Boring is good when it comes to flying,” Reyne said. “It’s the high-adrenaline moments when a pilot has to worry.”
    She straightened. “Ooh, I have an idea. Can we try out the phase cannon on a few rocks?”
    “I think firing the phase cannon is a great idea,” Sixx added.
    “No,” Reyne answered.
    “How about the photon guns?” she asked.
    “I think firing the photon guns is a great idea,” Sixx tacked on.
    “No.” Reyne pointed at Sixx. “And you’re not helping.”
    “Old guy’s a real party pooper,” Sixx grumbled.
    “I’m not old,” Reyne defended.
    Throttle chortled. “You’re old. You even walk like an old guy.”
    “It’s called arthritis. You’d better be careful. Young space jockeys can get it, too.”
    Sixx joined in. “Keep telling yourself that, old guy.”
    As Sixx and Throttle continued bantering at Reyne’s expense, he focused on his panel. His eyes narrowed on a large rock in their path. He zoomed in as far as the camera would go, to where the image became pixelated. The rock was dark, nearly pure black, with specks of brown pockmarking its surface. At its edge, something the color of dark gray peeked out.
    The color of rilon.
    “Throttle, you might get that excitement