Cam Solari’s boots echoed on the hangar floor, a sharp counterpoint to the hum of idling engines and the occasional clang of maintenance. He glanced at the PADD once, checking the rookie’s file, though he didn’t need it. White Squadron didn’t trust reports. Cam trusted what he saw.

There. Straight-backed, uniform crisp, hands still at his sides. A carved wooden medallion peeked from beneath the collar, Echo’s only personal touch. Cam noted the posture, the quiet steadiness, the controlled rhythm of his breathing. Promising. Maybe too promising.

Cam felt that old itch stir—the mix of nerves and anticipation he’d carried on his first day here. He remembered standing in this hangar, wondering if he measured up, wondering if he’d make it through without screwing up. Funny how the memory felt like yesterday and a lifetime ago at once.

He stepped closer, boots crunching on the floor. “Your first day starts now. Don’t screw it up, Echo.”

“Copy that, sir,” Aaron replied. His voice was soft but steady, filled with a confidence that held no trace of arrogance. He had spent the last four years preparing for this moment, and countless civilian hours before that.

He shot a glance up and down, taking in the Lieutenant Junior Grade’s appearance. He was taller by an inch or two, and he had a curious sparkle in his eye. His leg seemed to be vibrating slightly, giving off an energy as if he were ready for anything, a coiled spring ready for release.

He held out a hand. “Ensign Aaron Maskosis, Sir. I know you’ve read my file, but my grandfather always taught me to shake a man’s hand when I meet him.”

Cam took the offered hand with a firm and steady grip. Maskosis’s handshake wasn’t for show; it had weight behind it.

“Your gramps sounds like a wise man, Officer,” he said, giving a small nod. Then he released the hand and stepped past him, with a smooth and deliberate motion.

He gestured toward the Apsara-class bomber waiting a few meters away, its silver hull catching the hangar lights. The word Sunshine was stencilled in bold lettering beneath the cockpit.

“Shall we?”

He didn’t wait for an answer, just started walking.

“On you, Lieutenant,” Aaron said, falling in behind Solari as he headed for the bomber.

It was certainly an imposing craft, and though it was not the first time Aaron had seen one, this would be his first time operating a real one. He had trained with simulators in the academy, as everyone does, and with Sparrow fighters, but as he followed Cam up the ramp and into the cockpit, he couldn’t help but be slightly in awe.

He pulled himself into the co-pilot’s seat and strapped in. Once the Lieutenant was settled, Aaron turned to him. “Alright, sir. What’s the game plan?”

Cam ran a hand over the console, checking displays with practised ease. The hum of the systems vibrated through the cockpit, and he felt that familiar pull, the quiet rush at the start of each flight. His leg bounced almost imperceptibly against the floor, a habit he couldn’t fully hide when excitement got the better of him.

He glanced at the rookie in the co-pilot seat. Eyes sharp. Not overthinking, not panicking. Good.

“Game plan?” Cam’s voice was steady, “We taxi, run through systems, then take her up. Watch your instruments, listen, and follow my lead. Sunshine responds to careful hands. She’ll tell you what she wants if you pay attention.”

Cam leaned back slightly, and he tapped the controls lightly while he kept bouncing his leg under the console. This was the part he lived for, the first moments of a flight, when the craft and the pilot were just starting to align.

“Strap in. I think you’ll be impressed by what she can do,” he said, with the faintest twitch at the corner of his mouth.

Aaron pulled the harness over his shoulders and snapped shut the clasp at his waist. The Apsara-Class bomber began to move out of its berth, vibrating gently under him. With practised hands, he pulled up the readouts on his console, and his view was filled with columns of numbers and gauges.

“Impulse engines, good,” he stated, running through his pre-flight checklist, “Thrusters, good. Deflector, good. Shields, good. Weapons systems online, but cold. Warp core primed and ready.”

He turned to look at Cam, who had an undeniable look of excitement on his face. Aaron couldn’t help but feel excited as well. “Everything is five by five, Lieutenant. And… there is the green light from Hangar Control. They have approved our flight plan. We are good to go.”

He reached down and took the Loon pendant in his hand, whispering a silent prayer to his grandfather for luck, as he had before every flight he had taken, then tucked it inside his tunic and pressed himself into his seat, ready for takeoff.

Cam smiled, “Take her away Echo, show us what you’ve got.”