Trial by Fire
By Nephedra

Part 2
 
It was late in the evening, almost time for lights out, and Mark was in the gym to let out some steam after another wonderful day in flight tactics class.  He had been there for over an hour taking full advantage of all the specialized equipment.  After nearly wearing himself out on the set of uneven bars that he had set a bit higher than normal so he would have more room for full rotations from bar to bar he turned his attention to the new boxing buddy.

"Hey man, if you keep at it all the wiring will be on the floor, "Tiny scolded jokingly as Mark rounded on the boxing buddy with one more kick.  The boxing buddy fell backwards to the ground beeping and flashing.

"Better this thing than the Colonel."  Mark grabbed the towel on the floor and dried the sweat from his face and bare chest.  
 
Tiny frowned.  "Maybe you should just go talk to him."  

"Tiny, I know you mean well, but come on.  He has a stick up his butt and it is so far up there no one will be able to pull it out."

He's not the only one, Tiny thought to himself rolling his eyes slightly.   "But it can't keep going like this.  He changes the courses on you at the last minute.  How can you be expected to succeed?  If he does that during the trials?I mean?" Tiny faltered.

"I'll say it for you.  I'll fail.  Just like I have failed everyday this week.  One giant crash and burn."  Mark moved his hand like a plane through the air accompanied by sound effects.  Mark snickered, "And this has all been simulation.  Imagine the skinning I would get if we were doing some of these courses for real."  

Tiny winced at the thought.  

---------------

To: JasonTheHellDriver@allaboutcars.net
From:  MarkTurner@academy.edu
Subject:  venting again
Date:  Thursday, October 24, 2118  23:15:22

Jason,

I am so angry I could spit nails.  And no that won't make it better, so don't even suggest it.  I would like to keep all of my teeth.  Two hours in the gym and I am still pissed.   If I hear that damn buzzer one more time I am gonna?well I don't know what, but I am sure something will come to me.   

-Mark

BTW, do you know how to fix a boxing buddy?

-------------------

To: MarkTurner@academy.edu
From: JasonTheHellDriver@allaboutcars.net Subject:  Re: venting again Date:  Thursday, October 24, 2118  23:25:45

Nails huh?  I wouldn't suggest nails either.  You need long ones to do any damage, but you loose accuracy due to the weight.  I would suggest dart shafts though.  They are lighter and sharper.  Maybe you can get some out of the common room for tomorrow?  It really does sound like a good idea to me.

You will have to ask Princess on how to fix the robot.  She has fixed ours a couple of times when I got a little carried away.

Hang in there.  Just remember tomorrow is Friday!

-J

 ----------------

To: JasonTheHellDriver@allaboutcars.net
From:  MarkTurner@academy.edu
Subject:  Re:  venting again
Date:  Thursday, October 24, 2018  23:31:01

>Nails huh?  I wouldn't suggest nails either.  You need long ones to do any damage, >but you loose accuracy due to the weight.  I would suggest dart shafts though.  They >are  lighter and sharper.  

I can't believe I am asking this question, but does this mean what I think it means?

-Mark

 -------------------

To: MarkTurner@academy.edu
From: JasonTheHellDriver@allaboutcars.net Subject:  Re: venting again Date:  Thursday, October 24, 2118  23:36:55

>Nails huh?  I wouldn't suggest nails either.  You need long ones to do any damage, >but you loose accuracy due to the weight.  I would suggest dart shafts though.  They >are lighter and sharper.  

>I can't believe I am asking this question, but does this mean what I think it means?

I can't believe you are asking either.

 -J

 --------------

When the car pulled up the circular drive at the big house at the end of the block early Friday evening Keyop was right there waiting for it.  Princess and Jason were sitting on the steps to the large wrap around porch.  As soon as Tiny stepped out of the car Keyop tackled the unsuspecting big guy sending his bag skittering across the lawn.  With a dour look on his face, Mark picked up Tiny's bag and headed in the house followed by Chief Anderson without saying a word to anyone.  Princess and Jason just looked at each other with concern.

Mark dropped the bags in the hall and trudged to Anderson's study in the basement.  He plunked himself down in the plush brown leather chair.  Anderson gave him a reprimanding look as he went to his desk in front of the floor to ceiling bookcases and took out a letter opener.  Anderson carefully read the letter Mark had given him in the car.  Then he reread it.

Tugging at his glasses he sat down, "Mark, care to explain this?"

Mark had his elbows on his knees and his fingers laced while staring at the floor tracing patterns in the multicolored antique Persian rug.  He said nothing.

"I would expect something like this from Jason, not you."

Mark looked up.  "You are so wrong about that.  I am just better at hiding it than he is."

"So what are you hiding?"

Mark sighed as he looked at his bandaged hand, the hand he had used to turn off the buzzer once and for all.  "I fought the flight simulator and it won."  

"You should have gone to the gym and use the proper equipment to vent your frustration."  Chief was starting to get angry at Mark's evasiveness.

"Couldn't do that.  I already deactivated the boxing buddy yesterday."

Concerned that this had been going on for a while an exasperated Anderson probed further, "Mark, you can tell me.  I am not going to punish you.  The Academy has done that for me by suspending you for two days and making you pay for the damages.  I will be taking that from your allowance, by the way."  

"Great.  So I will be paying for it until I am 40." Mark quipped. He brushed his hair to the side and continued a bit reluctantly, "Chief, I am not going to make it.  They might as well have sent the 'you failed' letter.  Col. Cronus has been riding me since day one.  Nothing I do is right.  He makes an example of me every chance he gets.  I adjust and then adjust again, but I can't seem to get it right. It's aggravating."

That's one way to describe him, thought Anderson as he leaned back in his chair and took off his glasses to rub the bridge of his nose.  "How are you really doing in your classes?  Is he justified?"

"No.  I am at the top of my class.  Well, in all except his.  In his class I get a different test so who knows what my standing is.  I sure don't.  His class is a good portion of the trials.  I will fail for sure and not because I couldn't actually pass, but because he can't stand me."  Mark stood up.  "I am sorry I let you down."

-----------------

Mark kept to himself Friday night after dinner and had shut himself in his room after an early breakfast Saturday.  He was lying on his bed staring at the two model planes suspended from the blue ceiling.  The Chief had been so calm about the whole thing yesterday.  Where was the yelling?
 He seemed ready to and then all of the sudden he didn't.  It was odd.  Things had to change and quickly.  Mark got up and started to rummage though his desk drawers and the boxes under the bed.

"Hey mopey, are you grounded or what?" Jason inquired as he pushed open Mark's bedroom door a few hours later.  

Mark was sitting at his desk surrounded by piles of left over parts from various model plane projects.  He was carefully attaching wires to a remote control circuit board. "Nope, but I'm busy," he replied without looking up as he soldered another wire into place hoping Jason would get the hint.

"I can see that," Jason drawled as he approached and took up a leaning position on the wall ignoring Mark's suggestion.  "So, what's up?"

Mark paused from his work, blinking as he tried to adjust his focus to Jason, "I have a plan.  If those two are going to fail me anyway I have nothing to loose."

"You still think the Chief knew about this all along?"

Mark gave Jason a look and replied, "Jason, when have you known the Chief *not* to be involved?"

"Hmm.  You gotta point there."

Mark returned to his soldering.  Jason picked up one of the circuit boards and Mark reached over and slapped Jason's hand.  "Touchy, touchy," Jason joked.  "There is one problem with your plan."

"Oh yeah?  What's that?"

"I don't see any glue." Jason smirked.

Mark laughed as he recalled the time he glued Jason to a chair to get him to leave him alone in one of the Chief's classes.  They had gotten their weapons earlier in the week and Mark had the cuts and bruises to prove it.   Jason was taking advantage of Mark's predicament by throwing anything and everything at Mark's bandaged arm whenever he had the chance.   Occasionally, when the Chief had his back turned, Jason would get up and give Mark a poke in the arm for good measure.  Frustrated and in pain, Mark took action during a break when Jason left the room.   Even the Chief thought it was funny, sort of.

--------------------------------
 
Mark strolled back into the dorm on Wednesday morning as if nothing had happened.  He had just finished putting away his clothes and was about to open a box on his desk chair when Pete and Tom showed up.

"Hey, you almost ready for class?  You wouldn't want to be late would you?"  Tom asked.

"Do you think I'm crazy?" Mark smiled a crooked smile.

"You don't really want us to answer that, right?"  Pete said.

Mark ignored Pete's attempt to rile him and asked, "Are we still going over Kentin tactics?"

"Yeah, unfortunately," Tom griped. "It never ends.  We might even have more combat games today."

"Perfect."  Mark grabbed two small metallic objects from the box and his notebook before heading out the door.

Tom groaned, "Uh oh.  That confirms it.  He is crazy."  Pete nodded in agreement.

---------------

Mark took his seat by the window and prepared himself mentally.  Pete and Tom took their seats in the row next to Mark. Usually Col. Cronus would be in class by this time taunting the students as they arrived, but today he was conspicuously absent.  The whole class was getting antsy.  Finally, ten minutes late, Col. Cronus strode into the room followed by a few of the other faculty including the Dean.  Pete and Tom looked nervously at Mark.  It was too similar to last Friday when Mark decided to vent his frustration on the flight simulator.  Mark ignored them.

The Dean addressed the class, "Students, due to circumstances beyond our control we will be starting the in-aircraft portions of trials today."  The students groaned.  "Now, now.  Col. Cronus assures me that you are all ready.  Consequently, there will be no classes today.  The list indicating your time slot is posted in the commons.  The first trials start this afternoon.  We wish you all the best of luck."

As soon as the professors were gone a barrage of books came flying in Mark's general direction.  "This is all your fault Turner!" many were yelling.  Mark deftly deflected the incoming ordinates.
 

"My fault?  I had nothing to do with this!" Mark protested, but no one heard him.

"Yeah right," one kid said.   "It's all because you and the Colonel have issues.  So now we all suffer."  The kid kicked Mark's chair and headed for the commons to learn his fate.

---------------

Mark spent the next hour combing the campus for Col. Cronus.  He finally caught up with him out by the old F-15s by landing strip Alpha12.  

"Colonel, sir, may I speak with you?"  Mark asked.  Cronus set down the wrench he was using to make adjustments to his plane and regarded Mark suspiciously.

"Don't you think you should be preparing for your trials?" Cronus looked at his watch.  "You only have an hour."
 
Not surprised Mark confidently replied, "I'm ready."  

Cronus raised an eyebrow and looked at Mark carefully. "We'll see about that," he said doubtfully.

Trying not to be rattled by Cronus again, Mark took a deep breath.  He was not going to back down.
 "May I speak candidly, sir?" Cronus nodded in reply.

"I am not going to take anymore of your crap.  I am ready for whatever you plan to dish out today.
 Just know that two can play this game." Mark's jaw was set.

After a few moments of silence Cronus inquired, "That's it?  That's all you have to say?"  
 
"Yes, sir."

"Very well then."  Cronus smiled as he retuned to making repairs on the plane.  Mark was smiling too.  This was going to be fun.

--------------

It was a beautiful afternoon.  It had rained the night before, a rarity in the desert, and the horizon was free of dust.  The sky was a brilliant blue with a few lingering clouds.   It was a good day for flying.  Tiny, Pete, and Tom were huddled around Mark and his F-15.

Tiny was nervous.  Trials had been no fun for him last year and the Colonel liked him.   He started pacing in front of Mark's plane.

"Tiny, for crying out loud, stop pacing!" Mark chided.  

Tiny stopped and ran his fingers through his hair, "Sorry, Mark.  I can't help it."

"You aren't nervous?" Tom asked looking at Mark.  "I'm nervous? for you?for me.  Especially for me.  Who does Cronus think he is kidding?  I am so not ready for this."  Tom took up the pacing where Tiny left off.  Pete grabbed his arm to stop him.

Letting go of Tom's arm Pete said, "Tom, you are always nervous.  In fact, you are the most nervous person I know."

"Am not!"  

"Are too!  Just look at your finger nails!"  Pete pointed and Tom quickly shoved his hands into his pockets.  

Mark just rolled his eyes.  "Guys, this isn't helping anybody."  After a few moments of silence Mark said in a serious authoritative tone, "We will all be going to the ceremony next spring.  All of us."  Pete and Tom nodded with a bit more confidence than before.

"Go get 'em, Mark," Tiny encouraged as he gave Mark a friendly slap on the shoulder.

Mark gave his friends a thumbs up as he climbed into the cock-pit and closed the hatch.  Tiny, Pete, and Tom headed towards the stands so they could watch.

"So I guess this means you have five months to find a date huh?"  Pete joked.  Tom responded by punching him in the arm.

 ----------------

Mark settled into the cock pit and made several last minute adjustments.  After checking all of the systems he removed the backing on the sticky tape on his new toy and stuck the metal board to the dash next to the altimeter.  He was ready.

The trials consisted of two parts, a timed course and a combat game.  The course, consisting of various altitude and direction changes, was marked with floaters.  The pilot had to pass each marker within a certain time.  If a floater was missed 10 points would be deducted from the total score of 100 points.  If the course was completed in more than five minutes an additional 10 points were deducted.   The combat game was simple, get tagged and loose 20 points.   Almost everyone gets tagged; so students had to be sure to keep the course run as clean as possible.  In all, a student needed 70 points to pass otherwise they packed their bags and headed home.

Cronus was in the tower with the rest of the faculty and Chief Anderson.  Anderson was slightly nervous though he did not show it.  This was an important test.

"Are you ready Mark?"  Cronus asked.  



"All right then, 3?.2?.1?time."  Mark had the throttle fully engaged and was on the course.  He passed by the first two markers without incident.  He could see the fourth marker ahead, it was at 8000 feet and he was only 1500.   The fifth floater was close to the fourth and back down at 1500 feet.   He had just passed the third floater when he pressed a button on his new gadget.  As he started to crest at the fourth marker he watched the fifth closely.  This was where Cronus liked to mix it up.  This is where Mark usually crashed in simulation.

"Let's see if you can make it this time," Cronus muttered as he changed the signal output to floater five.  Nothing happened.  The floater should have increased altitude and moved closer to floater four.  Instead, Mark cruised right by and was on his way to the seventh marker in record time.  Cronus smashed his fist on the console.  The other faculty stared at him.  

Anderson just smiled and said nothing.

"Humph."   Cronus flicked another switch to try to change the final marker.  By the time he could swear Mark had crossed over the finish line in 3:51 minutes, almost a new course record.  Cronus stormed out to his plane for the final phase of the trials.

The rules of the combat games were simple, either tag or get tagged without dropping below 1000 ft within the marked zone that is approximately 10 miles in diameter.  Mark was circling at the designated coordinates looking for the arrival of his hunter.  Mark caught a glimpse of him behind the mountain range and changed course.  He managed to get behind Cronus quickly and kept him there for a good five minutes but could not manage a lock.  Cronus was getting tired of this game so he banked left sharply close to perimeter and headed for the sun.

"Shit!"  Mark yelped as he tried to follow but could not turn hard enough and still stay in the zone.  He knew it was a matter of seconds before Cronus was on his tail unless he did something.  He rolled and turned in the opposite direction.

"What are you doing?" Cronus asked himself as he looked around and saw no sign of Mark.  He leveled off and turned as he came to the edge of the zone on the other side.  Mark had disappeared into the clouds.  "Okay, if that is how you are going to play ?" Cronus turned on the radar and headed straight for the center of the clouds.  The tracking system was not allowed in regular combat games or the trials, but the Colonel never played by the rules.

Mark noticed the orange light on his self-made monitor light up.  He smiled as he turned on his radar. "Come and get me."

"What the hell are they doing?"  Tom asked from his seat in the stands.  "We can't see a darn thing."

"Not to mention how incredibly dangerous it is to go into cloud cover in those old planes," Tiny said gritting his teeth.  "Why they let us fly those death traps I'll never know."

Cronus had entered the bank of clouds on a direct intercept course, and then he lost the signal. "Damn this thing!  Why can't I use my own plane?"  He grumbled.  He kept on his course but found nothing in his path.  He started to circle looking for his prey.   He was sure Mark was still in there somewhere.

"There he is!"  Pete shouted pointing as Mark popped out from the western edge of the clouds.  "Now where is the basta?Colonel?" Pete stuttered.  The physics professor standing near by gave Pete a reprimanding look.

Mark circled the clouds at a distance and pushed a button on his special monitor.  In seconds Cronus erupted into the open sky towards his newly acquired target.  Just as he did he saw his query facing him head on and heard the incessant beeping.  

Mark said over the communication channel.
 
The crowd below erupted in a cacophony of cheers.  

------------------

Cronus had already landed and was standing by his plane waiting for Mark.  Suppressing the urge to smile too broadly, Mark approached the Colonel.  

"Well done, Mark.  You pass."  Cronus said with a crooked smile as he reached out to shake Mark's hand.  Mark took the offered hand and then walked closer to the Colonel's plane.  He pulled a small metallic object from the underside near the cockpit.  He tossed it to Cronus with a smile.  

"Thanks.  I enjoyed the challenge."

The Colonel let out a hearty laugh as he examined the object.  "Very clever.  I ought to reprimand you for illegal equipment use during the trials, but I think I will pass on that for today."

Mark nodded as a mutual understanding had been established between the student and the teacher.  He started to walk towards the stands when he turned and said, "Oh yeah, say hi to Chief Anderson when you see him."  Cronus chuckled quietly to himself as he pocketed the beacon and headed in the opposite direction to the Tower.
 
---------------
 
At the end of the long day the faculty was gathered in the Admiral's Club, a lounge for the faculty, discussing the events of the day.  Unlike the lounge for the students, this lounge was well appointed with rich golden walls and deep wood tones, a leather couch and several club chairs.  This lounge also had a well stocked bar.  

"Well, are you satisfied?"  Chief Anderson asked his friend when they had a moment alone while handing him a glass of scotch.

"Are you?  You are the one who thinks he can lead your little group."  Cronus retorted trying to hide his real feelings as he took a sip of his drink.  Anderson gave him a stern look.  Cronus, not wanting to get into the usual conversation, relented, "He didn't react the way I would have, but he didn't roll over either.  He is also one hell of a pilot.  So yes, I am satisfied."

"Thank God he didn't react the way you would. If he did I am not sure the Academy would still be standing.  I am mostly pleased with how he handled this.  He has the traits and skills I need."
 
"Hopefully we won't need him at all.  I leave tomorrow to follow up on last week's lead."  

Anderson drained the last of his scotch. "We can always hope."  

 

***** The End *****