"To all of you assembled here today," The Lieutenant Colonel, a living legend, an icon of the Oceanian War and the Federation's victory in it, adjusted his reading glasses as the glare from the spotlight seared itself into his retina. "You are our future. And what a beautiful future I see for our Federation." He hesitated, opting to take the glasses off his face. He wouldn't need them.
"I am proud of all of you. This class is such a wonderfully talented group of pilots." That warm, fatherly smile spread from cheek to cheek. "As the Chairman of this class' selection committee, I pronounce you all graduates of the Federation Advanced Fighter Tactics School. Now, there is another, far more prestigious title for all those who have survived the grueling gauntlet that you have faced down and overcome without fear. I am proud," The faint sheen of a tear seemed to ripple across the old man's eye. "I am proud to call you all Peacekeepers." The other officers seated behind him started to clap, and Lieutenant Colonel Privalov did the same.
I… made it, she thought to herself. She didn't let herself break out in cheers like she so desperately wanted to do. The pilots standing beside her seemed to be forcing back celebration just the same as she was. On stage, the pilot who had tested her skill and swept her background check's issues under the rug called up pilots to pose for photos with their new squadmates, and she couldn't help but feel like she didn't belong here.
Don't ever talk to me again. That's what he had said to her, when she had signed up for this.
"They're never going to send me to fight!" She banged on the door of the apartment. "Please, just hear me out!"
There was no response.
"It's only for five years. Five years and then I'm right back here on the East Coast, teaching nuggets how to fly! Then I can retire!" She shouted at the thick door of the apartment. "Then I can retire and join their space program. The Feds' space program doesn't kill anybody!"
More silence.
"C'mon, Uncle B, this isn't like back when you were a merc! The world's stable. Nothing is going to happen! What's the worst thing they make me do, fight some pirates?"
She gave up, and slumped to the ground, her back up against the door, sobbing.
"I thought… I thought you wanted me to chase my dreams, Uncle Brian…"
She heard her name called, and walked up to the stage. Six other pilots joined her, and they all shook the Lieutenant Colonel's hand in order.
"Last, but not least," The old man gestured to the pilots onstage. "As you all may be aware, we have an entirely new squadron forming. This is the first graduating class of the Advanced Fighter Tactics School to include foreign pilots, through the new International Peacekeeper Exchange Program." Many of the Federation-born pilots, with their squadron jackets adorning them in the colors of their new squadrons, grumbled. The Lieutenant Colonel glared at the audience, disappointed in their discontent. "This initiative will help further the Federation's goal of world peace and goodwill among nations by allowing talented pilots from around the globe to serve with the Federation…" Privalov looked back at the seven, assembled on the stage. "And these graduates will form its first squadron. Meet the pilots of Peacekeeper Black Squadron." He grinned, and broke into applause.
Hesitantly, the rest of the room followed his lead.
"Additionally," Privalov leaned into the microphone. "I will be retiring from the Advanced Fighter Tactics School's selection committee to take up command of this squadron."
The audience fell silent, unsure of how to respond before deciding upon another, uneasy round of applause.
This is it, she told herself. The first day of the rest of my life.
She stared up at the ceiling of the tiny duplex off the outskirts of the base in Magadan, lying on the bed. Dad's proud. Mom's proud. Who cares if Brian is just… coming to terms with it? She forced herself to smile. That's all. He'll come around.
You're under my wing now, the Lieutenant Colonel had told her. I don't know if you understand how many strings I had to pull to get that problem to go away. She stared at the sleek, weatherproof jacket on the chair across the room, a deep grey with black accenting, just like the plane they had assigned her. The Federation's star sat stitched into its left shoulder, the Black Squadron emblem on the right.
Why? She had asked him.
I did it because I haven't seen talent like yours in a long time.
It couldn't have been that simple. It just simply couldn't. But the old man had said it with such dripping sincerity, such clear-cut authenticity that it had to have been true.
Brian will come around. The forced smile wore at her mind until it started to become true. What was that he always said? That kinda funny expression… oh, yeah— 'she'll be right.' Well… he'll be right. He'll come around, eventually. The smile had morphed into a confident smirk. One day, I think he's gonna be damn proud of me.