Trial by Fire: The Coy Method pt II
Posted on Wed Sep 3rd, 2025 @ 4:55pm by Commander Rosa Coy
618 words; about a 3 minute read
Mission:
Character Development
Location: USS Sunfire
0730 Hours
The interior of the runabout was quiet save for the low hum of the environmental systems. Rosa stood at the head of the compartment, waiting just long enough for the six cadets to file in, fumble at their restraints, and settle. Her silence stretched, coiling tension around them like a tether.
When she finally spoke, her voice was clipped, each word deliberate. “Listen closely. This will be the only time I explain this in plain terms.”
Her eyes swept over them one by one, gauging who could meet her stare and who flinched away.
“You are here to fly. Not to impress. Not to show off for one another. Certainly not to build reputations before you’ve earned them.” She let that land on Arven, whose shoulders twitched under her gaze. “Skill without discipline is nothing but a death sentence.”
"Ouch. You cut deep," Coy purred in her mind. "Bet that one’s picturing how he’d look in your rear-view already. Or seeing naked you from the rear. Either way you know he’ll try something flashy just to spite you."
Rosa didn’t so much as blink.
“Roles,” she continued. “Each of you will rotate. Helm, nav, tactical, systems, comms, and command. You will learn the duties of all stations, because a pilot who cannot think beyond the stick is a liability in the field. You will succeed as a flight, or you will fail as one. There is no glory in individual survival.”
Her gaze moved to Threx, who leaned forward as though daring her. “There is no winning. There is only completion of mission parameters. Anything else is indulgence.”
"She’s itching to duel you," Coy whispered with a grin in his voice. "Let her off the leash and she’ll burn half the training program just to see if you can keep up. Wouldn’t that be fun?"
Rosa pressed her hands behind her back, refusing to fold.
Her attention shifted to Jeyna Rel. “Precision matters. But perfection is a lie. The moment you freeze to avoid error, you fail your crew. Better an imperfect correction than none at all.”
To Dalkor: “Argue with me once. You’ll learn quick it'll be the last mistake you make. Argue with me twice, and you’ll find yourself cleaning conduits instead of flying.”
To Veylin: “Logic will not save you when your body is shaking and your vision narrows to a tunnel. Accept it now, or the stars will teach you the hard way.”
Finally, her eyes rested on Sira Lenar. For a heartbeat, Rosa nearly softened. Nearly. “Faith is not a flight plan. Hope is not a shield. You will earn survival through skill and teamwork. Nothing else.”
"Careful, Rosa," Coy’s voice dipped low, amused. "You sound like you almost care about that one. You know how dangerous that gets. No attachments."
Rosa’s nostrils flared once before she drew a breath.
“Ground rules,” she said, voice sharpening to flint. “One: You will address me as Commander or Ma’am, never by name. Two: You do not speak unless spoken to during a flight exercise. Three: You will keep your egos strapped down tighter than your harnesses. Break those rules, and I will have you washing shuttles until your reflection shines.”
Her hands fell to her sides, posture easing only slightly. “Questions?”
The silence that followed was taut, heavy. Even Dalkor kept his mouth shut.
"Damn. A dominatrix with a riding crop could not have done better. Color me impressed." Coy said proudly.
Rosa gave a curt nod. “Good. Let the training session begin. Your rides await.”
TBC
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