Trial by Fire: The Coy Method pt III

Posted on Thu Sep 4th, 2025 @ 6:23pm by Commander Rosa Coy

612 words; about a 3 minute read

The shuttlebay doors peeled open with a hiss, revealing the curve of space beyond. Six Peregrine-class fighters gleamed under the deck lights, lean and hungry silhouettes. The cadets stood in a line before them, the hum of preflight checks filling the bay.

Rosa paced before them, hands clasped behind her back. The quiet authority of her stride demanded their attention.

“You’ve all logged simulator hours,” she said, voice carrying over the bay with sharp resonance. “That means absolutely nothing to me. This is where you prove whether those reflexes translate outside a holo-grid.”

She stopped dead center, turning slowly. Her eyes swept them again, the way a hawk weighs prey.

“You will launch in pairs. Wingman assignments are as follows: Arven with Threx. Jeyna with Dalkor. Veylin with Lenar.” She let the pairs sink in, the ambitious with the reckless, the precise with the argumentative, the logical with the faithful. Deliberately unbalanced.

“Your first objective is simple: formation flying. Maintain tight cohesion across a three-dimensional battlespace. Break cohesion once, and you’ll be ordered to return and observe the remainder of the exercise from the deck.”

"Now that’s cruel," Coy chuckled in her ear. "Pairing the hotheads, the perfectionist with the loudmouth, and the stoic with the dreamer? You’re just begging for sparks to fly. I like it."

Rosa’s lips pressed into a thin line. “Your secondary objective is survivability. You’ll be entering a mock combat scenario against automated drones. They will be programmed to hunt your weaknesses. The only way to survive is to cover each other’s blind spots.”

She stepped closer to Arven, the boy nearly vibrating with contained energy. “If you break formation to play hero, you’ll find yourself dead faster than you can blink.” She turned to Threx, whose grin promised mischief. “And you’ll take your wingman with you.”

"Oh, you wound them before they’ve even flown," Coy drawled. "Sharp teeth, Rosa. Very sharp."

She ignored him, pivoting back toward the fighters. “Strap in. Launch sequence begins in five.”

Launch

The bay erupted in motion. Cadets scrambled to their fighters, the sharp hiss of canopies closing echoing through the chamber. Rosa climbed into her own fighter at the head of the line, hands moving with practiced precision across the console. Systems purred awake beneath her touch, much like Powder did the night before.

The cadets’ comms lit up in her ear. Nervous breathing, clipped acknowledgments.

“This is Eagle One,” Rosa said, using the formal call sign reserved for instructors. “Cadet wings, report.”

“Eagle Two, ready.” Arven’s voice cracked slightly.
“Eagle Three, standing by.” Threx sounded like he was grinning.
“Eagle Four, online.” Jeyna’s tone was all business.
“Eagle Five, good to go,” Dalkor said, with just enough swagger to grate.
“Eagle Six, systems green,” Veylin reported, smooth and calm.
“Eagle Seven,” Lenar said softly, almost reverently, “ready.”

"You should give them proper call signs," Coy teased. "Something embarrassing, so it sticks when they screw up. Isn’t that what flight leaders do? Besides how else are you going to know who they are when they're groveling under your boots?"

She breathed in slowly, exhaled, then said over comms: “All flights, launch.”

The deck shuddered as the magnetic clamps released. One by one, the fighters glided through the shimmering blue veil of the forcefield and into the void. The black expanse swallowed them whole, stars burning like scattered embers.

Formation tightened, six fighters snapping into a V behind her. Rosa allowed herself the smallest nod of approval. “Stay sharp,” she ordered. “Drones inbound.”

TBC

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