His quarters aboard the Imperial Class-II Frigate Fearless, were dim. The air cold and stale from the air filtration system. The kind of air reused, and recycled a thousand times a week. Eventually the strangeness that fresh air had to it was used up. It was sterile, full of the stuff that kept bodies going. Yet, tasted wrong. He ignored it, like he ignored most things in his life now.

Sitting on the edge of his bed he wanted to ignore the world. Everyday for him was hell, every night full of memories he tried to fight. They always found him though, in the dark recesses of his mind. Then her face would appear to him, comforting him. Then the screams would begin again.

He looked down at the pad in his hands, gripping the datapad hard enough to cause it to crack he angrily hurled it at a far wall. Watching it shatter into ten pieces did not bring him any joy, instead it brought only more fury. Shaking his head he wondered why the ship's command felt it necessary to deny him the opportunity to become certified to fly the Avenger. He should of already been certified to fly it, due to his time in Nazgul.

It was the forth time this had happened in the past month. He was of the proper rank finally, had enough experience, and they were currently between missions. From the reports he could get there was no one slated to train in the Avenger simulator for another month. So, to him there was no reason for them to deny him four times.

The air nearly crackled as his fury began to boil. This was just another setback in his life's long list of set backs. His wife's death three years ago was the first, after that things had gotten really bad for him. After he watched her burn alive, he decided joining the Empire might be a good choice. Being placed in Nazgul was not a bad choice, he would of rather joined Tinker in Viper.

He survived a few missions with them, then watched as more of his friends died. Finally having enough he left, spent the next two years trying to sort out his difficulties. Which, he did by trying to kill himself daily. It never worked, something always stopped him.

Looking up at the pipes crisscrossing his ceiling he felt a deep peaceful feeling come over him. He knew now coming back to the Navy had been a mistake, it was time to leave. Sending his resignation would be simple, just walk up to someone higher rank and punch them in the head. That would make sure he could never come back, maybe they would even execute him. If he tried to steal one of the TIEs perhaps, maybe one of the three Defender class they had in the port side hangar bay.

Standing up slowly he felt his muscles pop as he moved. He walked to the door with his hand out to hit the panel to open it when the buzzer sounded. Starring at the door, he considered ignoring it till whoever was on the other side went away. After a long ten seconds he slapped the panel, a moment later the door opened.

An older man stood there, his hands clasped behind his back. It was the same Second Lieutenant from his previous two simulator missions. Considering this was one of the few people in this life Scral respected he snapped a quick salute.

"Petty Officer Second Class Trimik Dyr'Jin." The man said with a strange look on his face. "I just received word about something that had been bugging me. It seems I should of delved deeper into your past, before placing judgement on you."

He considered speaking, but decided not to. A flippant remark here would be probably very bad, besides he wanted to be executed, not thrown in the brig.

"My name is Henrin Uirmn, I've been a pilot in the Imperial Navy since well before you were born. I've seen more things that most have dreamed about. That is why I am breaking protocol to take you flying right now." Turning around he began walking down the hallway after a moment he said over his shoulder "Meet me in the forward hangar bay two, in your flight suit in ten minutes."


Ten minutes later Scral walked into the hangar bay, ready to punch the man if he had any intention of making him re-certify to fly an Interceptor. Instead he looked up to see the man carefully looking over one of two Avengers sitting in the forward launching harnesses. Without looking over the man said "I keep hearing about this cocky pilot from a bunch of people, they say he thinks he is the gods gift to flight itself. Thinks he should skip all the steps, and move on to fly one of the Defenders, an option given only the the elite."

Scral stopped a few feet away and waited as the man finished his inspection of both fighters. "Thing is, being elite is not just about being the best pilot. Being elite means you are the best at everything, and that means your emotions too."

He looked over at Scral, trying carefully to keep his face in check while standing still. "Look, I know what happened. I finally dug deep enough to figure it out. We both know you could fly the Defender, and probably fly circles around a lot of people. However, there are rules to follow. Rules not even I can break for you. Climb into that one over there and begin pre-flight, let's go have a bit of fun."

Feeling a strange sense of new respect for the man Scral nodded once before walking over to the fighter. He ignored the feeling of eyes on his back as he did he own pre-flight check on the outside of the craft. Seeing something strange he dropped his helmet and examined it closer.

Swearing to himself he stood up but stopped as he saw technicians coming over with the proper tools to fix the busted conduit. "A test then, I see." He said slowly, looking over at the man as the technicians went to work.

"If you had simply gotten into the cockpit, trusting the word of a complete stranger I would of failed you on the spot, and had you kicked out of the navy for gross negligence." Seeing the techs complete their work Scral finished his examination and quickly climbed up the ladder to the walkway above the Avenger. Like all TIE models it was boarded from a hatch in the top.

Slipping on his helmet he worked his way down the short ladder. Stepping on the seat he reached up and hit three keys above him. He listened as the craft begun to come to life slowly. Turning around he sat down and hit six keys in rapid succession, trusting muscle memory to know what to do. Locking his harness in place he watched the instrument panel come alive as the fighter's systems fully powered up.

"Avenger Alpha 2438... err scratch that. Avenger Delta 452 ready." Scral said into the comlink. He forced the memories of his old fighter down before they became a problem. That fighter had been a good one, but like most things it ended in a fiery death years ago.

"Avengers 2438, and 5490 clearance granted." Flight control a few moments later.

Putting power into the repulsorlifts Scral eased her off the docking supports and towards the energy field outside. Easing the throttle back he shot through the field and into space. Keying the shields to full, he kept the weapons at standby as he fully opened her up.

Pulling back on the stick he hit two switches causing the fighter to flip nose to tail. Chopping the throttle he let inertia carry him in reverse as he watched the Lieutenants Avenger shoot through the field.

"Where to?" Scral said into the comlink a few moments later. Bringing his craft over and around he lined up in formation behind Uirmn.

Without saying a word Uirmn punched the throttle and pulled straight up. Following suit a heartbeat behind Scral felt nothing as the fighters quickly accelerated to top speed. Reaching under him he dialed down the inertial dampeners a few degrees.

"Glad you remembered that." Uirmn's voice said. "Not many people like to feel their fighters."

Chopping the throttle and hitting the reverse thrusters for a second Scral pulled the yoke to the left, while tapping the right rudder. He followed Uirmn through a strange series of maneuvers seemingly pulled out of thin air. Following the man in a tight arc he let the distance grow till his cross-hairs were lined up in a perfect firing solution without realizing it.

Seeing what was happening he increased throttle and rejoined formation a few seconds later. He breathed slowly in and out, looking back he even noticed his finger twitching over the firing stud built into the yoke. It was not the one for the lasers, instead it had been the one meant to fire the torpedoes.

"Battle trauma effects everyone eventually, you need to learn to control it now." Uirmn said as he suddenly chopped throttle to nothing, hit his thrusters reducing his forward momentum to zero in an instant. "Now though, let's see what you really got."

Hitting his throttle again Uirmn brought his weapons to full and began bracketing Scral in azure fire. Watching his rear shield percentage begin to fall, he eased back his throttle just a hair. Chopping his throttle to zero, he flipped his fighter nose to tail and fired at Uirmn from near point-blank range.

The two Avengers cleared each others panels with inches to spare as both pilots began a series of maneuvers to bring each other within a firing arc again. They kept at it for several long minutes, neither coming within range for more than a few brief moments.

Neither of them talked as the sought to destroy the enemy. He knew this game, they older navy would use it in lieu of simulators. It was still used to this day, since simulators could not truly teach someone how to fly and fight. They lacked something, they lacked the true feel of a fighter under your fingertips. This game would end when the other fighters shields were gone. Easy enough accomplished, if you could find your target that is.

Looking around him slowly, then flipping his Avenger upside down Scral looked around again trying to find Uirmn. Glancing at his sensor readouts showed nothing as well, it was like the man had simply vanished into thin air.

Keying the frequency over to flight control he opened his mouth to report a possible accident when his shields suddenly dropped to zero, he watched them flicker for a moment before vanishing.

He cut his throttle to nothing and proceeded to drift, just like normal debris in a battle. He closed his eyes as he realized he was in fact dead at this moment, because he became concerned about a stranger. He fell for a simple trick that had cost more than one pilot life.

"You are dead Scral." Uirmn's voice said softly as his Avenger pulled up next to him. "In the end all your training, your experience, your very will to be the best failed. Your emotions killed you because you became concerned over a stranger."

The words sank in slowly as he realized he had truly failed to pass this training class. For the first time in his life he had actually failed.

"Head back to the ship, I'll have the documents sent to you later." Uirmn said as he angled his Avenger around to head back towards the Fearless. "Before you do anything crazy, you passed. I don't need you to shoot down a hundred enemies, or even win a battle to prove to me you can be trusted in a fighter. Congratulations."

Feeling a new sense of accomplishment Scral brought his fighter around behind his instructor and pulled back on the throttle controls. He breathed a tiny bit easier as he realized even in failing you can still win.

OOC:

WC- 2061