Austin couldn't quite form words as multiple responses flew through his mind. Eventually he managed a somewhat strained.
"Really?" It wasn't a hopeful response as much as a shocked and somewhat confused one.
Iverson grunted. "That's what I said."
"I-I mean," he struggled to properly put his feelings into words. "They know why I got kicked out of the air force… right?"
"Of course they do. I reminded them personally."
"So they MUST know I can't fly right?"
"They aren't asking you fly anything Austin."
That gave him pause to think. "Then… what do they want me for?"
"Well the official reason is your experience and expertise in piloting many different types of aircraft, the fact that your flying record still stands, as well as your apparent proficiency in reading star maps and your general knowledge in astronomy." Iverson listed off the accomplishments in a voice of mock awe. "But the REAL reason is the notoriety."
"I don't-"
"Oh YES. You accomplished a lot in your flying career. Nevermind that you threw it all out the window and destroyed two fucking lives, including your own. On paper you're still the airforces golden boy and that's all my superiors care about. All the young space explorers will be clamoring to be in the same breathing space as Austin Kogane, the world's biggest fuck up."
The bulging vein on Iverson's neck, the reddened face, and the beads of sweat that dripped from his brow as he spoke gave Austin a reason to pause and reflect on how he would respond. This visit was dragging up sore memories, and if he wasn't careful, the former ace pilot just might end up flat on his back with his former best friends hands around his throat.
And so Austin retreated to what he thought was a relatively safe subject.
"So the uh, the job? What kind of a position is it? Janitorial staff?"
Iverson shifted a dangerous eye towards Austin.
"J-Just a joke… y'know the mysterious wise old janitor guy. Kind of a staple in some old movies and tv shows." When this failed to garner a positive response he moved on. "I, uh, I just think I need a better idea of what they want me for. Sides, I don't think either of us are really enjoying this little get together so let's just get it over with yeah?"
Austin gave a hopeful smile.
Iverson shifted his glare back onto the landscape.
"They're modeling many of the spacecraft to be used in future explorations off of the basic setup of aircraft and would like people with a lot of experience in that area around to teach the cadets how to properly handle the interface." The commander's eyes twinkled as he saw the struggling look of comprehension cross Austin's brow. "Or to put it into words you can understand, they want you to be a flight instructor. Under me, of course."
"Wait wait wait, y'all want me to be a teacher?" He asked somewhat horrified.
"Essentially."
"But like… it's all scientists and such right?"
Iverson shrugged. "Not necessarily. The program is meant to indoctrinate potential pilots and engineers at a young age. Find the talent while it's fresh."
"Like teenagers?"
The commander raised an eyebrow. "Is that going to be a problem?"
Austin didn't respond.
He sighed. "They're just kids. Not monsters from the darkest abyss. Jesus, what is with everyone and the teenagers thing? You'd think I'd told you we were training babies or something."
"Well it's not like I have any experience with kids."
"Neither do I. But ya don't see me quaking in my boots."
"Yeah you also don't have any kids." Austin paused before asking. "Do you?"
Iverson tried and failed suppress a smirk. "Do I look like a castrated steer?"
"C'mon gimme a break here. We haven't seen each other in three years. The least I should be allowed to do is ask about the love life of the guy who used to be the most desired bachelor on base."
"Says the man who flirts with every pretty girl he comes across. Including that little lady at the gas station."
"Hey, it's all in good fun! Cassandra knows it's-" He paused as the flow of conversation caught up with him. "-not… not serious."
"Hmph, oh I'm sure you think that."
Austin stared at Iverson, something quietly working out behind his eyes. But the unsuspecting commander just carried on his train of thought.
"Honestly y'know, it bugs the hell out of me when I remember how you flirted with all those girls. Sure, MOST of them didn't take you seriously, but a few did. You were a real heartless shit back in the day Austin, not gonna lie." Bumping the stiff man with his elbow Iverson added. "Even when you weren't flirting the girls were all over you. I dunno if it was the flying, but they treated you like one of those adventure movie stars when you weren't around."
Narrowing his eyes, Austin asked, "How do you know?"
"Because I was there." He sighed. "Whenever you walked out of the room the gals would sigh and blink dreamily. Could never figure out what it was they saw in you."
"That's not what I meant Iverson."
The sudden stiff and cold tone drew the commander's attention. Prompting him to turn and look into the now narrowed and suspicious gray eyes of Austin.
"How did you know about Cassandra?"
Iverson's face froze and he averted his eyes. "I… I mean… y-you mentioned-"
"I did NOT mention her!" Austin's voice shifted from cold to hot in a moment. "And don't try to say you stopped in and she mentioned me. That girls worked at that gas station ever since I moved out here and never once has she ever gossiped about other customers. Unless of course she were asked."
The commander's face hardened and returned to the stone it had been when he'd first arrived.
"Well, what of it? Am I not supposed to ask about potential candidates for open positions?"
"No, but you ARE supposed to talk to them first!" Austin stood up and glared down at him. "Just-What the HELL Iverson?! We've known each other for years, but yer acting like I'm a complete nobody to you!"
Iverson stood as well and returned Austin's glare with triple the force.
"Because officially you ARE nothing to me, Kogane. As a commanding officer I have the right to vet potential candidates as I see fit! To make sure there are no… discrepancies."
"Right, discrepancies. I'm sure that's what you tell your superiors. But you can't fool me." He jabbed his finger into the commander's chest. "I know you, Iverson. You've got some crazy idea in your head, and I wanna know what it is."
Iverson glanced down at the finger, and then back at Austin's face,
It all happened in a matter of moments.
One minute Austin was standing upright. But the next…
"AH AH AH," He squealed like a schoolyard boy as Iverson grabbed and twisted his arm around behind his back and pulled hard on the other. "DAMMIT IVERSON."
The commander sneered at the sight. "Yer outta practice Kogane. But then again, you never were great at close quarters combat. Always skipping out on practice to go on joyrides."
He released his grip and shoved Austin hard. Causing him to stumble, nursing his sore shoulder painfully as he glared back at his old friend. "Jerk."
"Fine. I'll stop beating around the bush then. I asked around about you because I heard some disturbing rumors."
"Rumors?"
"Yes rumors." Iverson leaned towards Austin and asked. "How long have you been taking drugs?"
"We are lost."
Kalthara growled at the comment. "We are NOT lost. We are merely displaced."
"Same thing really."
She didn't reply, thinking it better to focus on her navigation readings rather than have a debate over semantics with her brother.
Kalthara supposed that getting lost had been somewhat predictable. Considering how hard just finding the colony had been, it was surprising they even knew what sector of the solar system they were in, let alone how to get back to the outpost.
Having some huge hunk of junk weighting them down didn't help matters.
Navigation had never been her strong suit. She could get by alright if it was a simple matter of flying from point A to point B. But the moment she was expected to determine her location based on nothing but relative star placement Kalthara was stuck.
That was likely how they'd gotten lost in the first place. With Kolivan towing the altean artifact, that left Kalthara to navigate their way back to the base. A position she had been all too confident about at first. Up until they passed the same moon for the third time in a row.
Things were starting to look grim.
If they didn't get back on track soon, they risked attracting the worst kind of attention. This part of the system was notorious for being inhabited by weblums, asteroid fields, and-
A sudden force rocked the ship, tossing Kalthara to the side. Only the magnetic implants in her suit kept her from slamming against the side of the cockpit. Glaring down at the console two dots blinked back at the marmoran as they approached fast from the starboard side.
-pirate. Of course it was pirates. Just a natural next step in this infuriating quiznaking day.
"Sister." Kolivan's voice crackled over the comm gravely."We have company."
"Thank you for informing me. That was not immediately apparent."
Kalthara hated pirates. Not quite as much as she hated her brother being leader, but it was damn close.
PIrate's were the worse kind of parasite. They rode around the universe leeching off of the resources of others. The empire leeched off of other planets as well, but at least those resources went to expanding their power. Pirates just existed with no other purpose but to continue existing.
It wasn't a struggle for survival.
They frequently made use of the weapons they stole to be more powerful than most other lifeforms. They had no dedication to honor, duty, or family. They weren't even ambitious.
Just an amalgamation of bloodthirst and greed who made an already difficult existence even more difficult for everyone else.
Needless to say, Kalthara didn't hesitate to fire back.
Sadly her aim was about as good as her navigation skills as the laser shot missed the pirate's wings by several meters.
Thankfully her piloting skills were slightly better than her aim, otherwise she wouldn't have managed to dodge the onslaught of return fire by mere inches.
This was bad.
Between the two of them Kolivan was the better fighter pilot. If they had been on the ground, or in close personal quarters things would have been different. No one could beat Kalthara in close quarters combat. But that skillset was useless where she was now.
"Pull back Kalthara!" Kolivan's voice crackled over the comm as another laser blast passed by the cockpit window.
Kalthara bit her tongue and hesitated.
"Sister!" Her brother's voice was shrill.
"If we retreat now we'll expose our flank!"
"And if we stay, we risk being completely destroyed. Retreat Kalthara." He then added. "That is an order."
Clenching her teeth, Kalthara turned her ship and followed after her leader doing her absolute best to ignore their quickly advancing pursuers.
"How do you plan to escape?" she asked, doing her best to hide her resentment at being ordered around like some grunt. "If we don't lose them they will simply follow us back to the base."
"The Arkaryan Belt is nearby. If we fly through it we should lose them."
"Whilst being smashed by asteroids."
"Do you have a better plan?"
Kalthara didn't reply and instead focused on not getting hit by the pursuing pirates as she followed after her brother across open space and into the Arkaryan Belt.
The asteroid belt had claimed many a life of hapless space explorers. Or idiots as Kalthara liked to call them. Though seeing how she was now riding into the asteroid field herself she was hesitant to keep up that association of words.
As predicted, the pirates didn't follow them.
Parasites though they were, they had at least the passable shadow of a preservation instinct.
And long distance weapons.
It all seemed to happen in a blur.
A streak of blue shooting through space.
Kolivan's rear getting hit.
Another, this time finishing shot, honing in.
Kalthara's hands turned the controls on their own. Diverting her course.
The vessel rocked. Her ship collided with something metallic.
And then the whole of space turned blue.
Iverson's stare was like that of medusa. Except instead of turning to stone should they make eye contact, Austin was sure he'd be dead if he even so much averted his gaze. One glance at his truck and it would all be over.
It was a battle of wills at this point.
"Ya don't seriously believe that garbage do ya?" He asked with a half-joking wave of the hand. "I mean is the desert really the BEST place to grow a marijuana patch?"
The cold one-eyed gaze didn't waver from Austin's face.
"I never said anything about marijuana."
He shrugged. "I assumed."
"Don't play games with me, Kogane." Iverson's tone had now reached a depth so low he could mine dinosaurs. "The townspeople have seen you on your little drug trips."
Austin prayed that the sweat that dripped from his brow could be passed off as part of the heat.
He had doubts to the statement's truthfulness. He'd never chewed in or around the town, and deliberately hid his keys to keep himself from wandering around in his psychedelic stupor.
However… there was always the chance that some random hiker could have spied him sitting in the back of his truck and-
"Ya want me to piss in a cup right now I will." Breaking eye contact, Austin averted his gaze to the base of his porch. To the small spot next to the steps. Where a round indentation in the dirt stared traitorously back at him. "If it'll convince ya not to listen to bored townsfolk."
Glancing back at him, Austin was horrified to find Iverson's eye's drifting into the complete opposite direction. Right at his truck.
His mouth went dry.
"Besides," he couldn't hide the slight shake in his voice. "I told you a long time ago that I don't take that shit."
"Yes. You did. I remember. You said it would 'ruin the feel of the plane'."
"There ya see?"
Iverson gave Austin a cold stare before wandering over to his truck.
"There's a problem with that argument though."
Following after him, Austin couldn't help but ask desperately. "Yeah? And what'd that be?"
Kicking the rusted metal of the wheel, Iverson replied. "You don't fly planes anymore."
Austin's heart leapt into his throat as the commander ripped the tarp off the back of the truck and peered inside. He stared into the back and scanned the contents.
A minutes passed.
And another.
Austin risked scooting over beside the hardened soldier and glancing at his expression.
It was blank before morphing into something like embarrassment.
"Uh… very… nice equipment." he struggled as he stared at the telescope.
Austin allowed his reply to sink in before it clicked. He risked only a slight glance at the potted cactus that sat in the corner of the truck unnoticed before replying with a newfound confidence.
"Thanks. I like to get the best, most versatile field equipment available. Can't track the stars with a regular old pair of binoculars." The incoming coolness of the night air and the swiftly dimming sky gave Austin his out. "Speaking of which, I have a very important star rotation to observe tonight, so are we done here?"
Iverson glared at Austin before giving a forced. "You're free to go."
"Geez, ya make it sound like I'm in custody."
"If you aren't careful, you will be." As an afterthought, the commander added. "And your decision? As to the position?"
Austin stopped on his way to the drivers side seat. He paused for a moment before giving a very noncommittal, "I'll think about it."
Climbing behind the wheel, he revved the clunky old engined and drove off. Catching only the slightest of glances at his former friend in the rear view window before driving into the night.
Iverson waited until after the truck disappeared into the distance to throw his hat to the ground and kick at the dirt in frustration.
He'd been so sure. So confident of his theory. Hell, he was still confident. But his actions had made him look like some kind of idiot. A part of him was happy none of his co-workers had been there to see the disgraceful display, while another part of him found it bad enough that Austin of all people had seen it.
Partially because while he hated being wrong, he also didn't want to be right.
The evidence wasn't steep per say but it was still fairly dire. Austin HAD been seen in what could only be described in some form of drug high by multiple individuals on a camping trip. They even had recorded video evidence.
It had taken Iverson using his ever persuasive army man voice to kindly suggest that the group NOT post the feed on the internet and make it viral. They had consented most peacefully after that.
And the townspeople were rather suspicious of him. There wasn't any real malice or hate to the way they talked about the former fighter pilot, but the overall tone was similar to the way people would talk about a "highly suspicious character".
Austin didn't go out of his way to socialize much with the other people in the area. A fact that had surprised Iverson when he'd first heard it. The Austin Kogane he had known in the air force was a social butterfly. The kind of guy who could sit down at any random table in a restaurant and instantly strike up a friendly conversation with the other clientele.
But now? Now Austin had garnered a reputation as a shut in. He smiled, he complimented the young ladies, wasn't too impolite, and only showed up in town once a month to pick up supplies.
Everyone KNEW he lived out here, but no one visited him. His paper mail was kept in a lockbox at the post office. It was that bad.
HIs old friend had become the man every father warned their daughters about. The guy parents instructed their children to avoid. A man little old ladies would walk through heavy traffic just to avoid.
Not a criminal, but a social outcast.
It was a disturbing change that shook Iverson to the core.
The only person who didn't seem to hold any kind of negative opinion of Austin was his doctor who thought he was a good humored and regularly attentive patient. A patient the doctor didn't have to worry about being strict with. A patient he could see himself going out and having a quick beer with.
A patient the doctor was quite confident would randomly drop dead any year now.
The heart defect hadn't worsened. But it hadn't gotten any better.
As things stood for Austin now things were stable. If his health kept up that way he could continue living the majority of his adult life normally. And if he accepted the job at the garrison a whole new avenue could open up for him.
The health insurance the facility provided was lucrative, the pay was more than enough to support oneself with, and the work was interesting. Iverson felt sure Austin would very much enjoy a life there.
But all of that would go down the drain if he was found to be doing drugs.
The garrison was an open facility but not a particularly forgiving one. Things like hard drug use were career killers, and a criminal record involving violent crimes or narcotics of any kind often times led to whole resumes being tossed into the trash.
Iverson was all too aware that the job at the garrison had the potential to completely turn around Austin's life. Maybe even save it. Yet it could all be lost because the idiot decided to play around with psychedelic leaves or something.
Retrieving his beret, he dusted off the dirt before placing it back onto his head in what was his most formal soldierly manner. Even if it had been a moment of anger he couldn't truly excuse defacing his uniform in such a way. Austin would have called the display stingy, but recalling what his private quarters typically looked like Iverson decided that his former best friends hypothetical opinion was inconsequential.
With that thought the commander glanced at the decrepit old shack Austin called a home. It was a sorry looking structure. Something straight out of a B-list horror flick that got knocked down less than a week after filming.
Iverson hesitated for only a moment before stepping onto the creaky porch and testing the handle. The door clicked open.
The commander froze, having reached a moment that required significant contemplation. When he'd grabbed the knob he was expecting to find it locked, and for his curiosity to be halted in its tracks. Not for some new temptation to stare right at him.
What the hell was Austin doing?!
Leaving his door unlocked for any passing robber. Far from town. In the middle of the desert.
Looking guiltily back at the desert, Iverson took a deep breath and stepped through the door.
He wasn't sure what he'd been expecting.
For years he and Austin had lived together as roommates. It had always seemed simpler to share a place with someone you knew rather than leave your personal affairs alone for months at a time.
Back then Austin had been the epitome of the sloven roommate. Clothes on the furniture, dishes in the sink, and a policy of passing out on the couch piss drunk. He'd been a young Iverson's worst nightmare.
And yet… when he'd met Austin it felt as though the universe was issuing Iverson a personal challenge. There before him was the most unorganized, untidy, annoyingly undisciplined young soldier imaginable. Who also happened to be ten times the pilot he could ever hope to be. Worse, they were the same rank.
Austin's existence offended everything Iverson had accepted to be true.
Undisciplined, disorganized, unserious, men and women were not meant to be great. Natural skill was supposed to fall to the wayside when faced with the unbridled grit of hard work. Men like Austin Kogane were there to take up space until the really serious people stepped up to the plate.
That was likely why he'd put up with him for so long in the beginning. There had been a part of his young self who thought that the natural order would assert itself and he'd be rid of his roommate forever.
But he'd failed to account for two things.
That sheer passion could supplement hard work.
And just what a sheerly LIKABLE son of a bitch his roommate was.
Austin was a fantastic pilot. He had a natural skill for it. But he also utterly adored it.
The man's mind hadn't been designed for memorizing the many mechanical parts of a machine. Austin was much better at understanding things approximately and reacting accordingly to it. Yet if anyone asked him to point out every part of an airplane's console, Austin could do it. Aerodynamics were one of the few sciences, outside of astrology, that genuinely interested him. So he'd become somewhat adept at that as well.
Over time Iverson was forced to confront the fact that a person, while not fundamentally hardworking in all things, COULD excel if given something they could truly find meaningful. It was a truth he wasn't able to deny given that it was the only real explanation for his roommates success.
Then their was Austin's likability. The friendly nature that was practically second nature to the man.
That was not at all to say he was a pushover. Oh no.
The number of absolutely avoidable brawls that had taken place over the course of both their careers because some drunken fool sitting at a bar said the wrong thing to Austin at exactly the wrong time, were too numerous to count. The man could and would stand up for himself and others if pushed too far. Honestly, the only reason Iverson hadn't reported the man was because half of those brawls had been started in his defense.
It was difficult not to like a man who'd punch a six foot biker in the face because he talked shit about his roommate.
Given this history, Iverson had expected to find a living space similar to what their old apartment would look like after he'd left Austin alone for a few months. A smelly trash heap filled with dirty laundry.
But what he found instead was rather unexpected.
It wasn't neat per say, but tidied up. The room looked lived in, but not as though it never got cleaned. There were no dishes sitting in the open, nor any laundry tossed on the floor save for a jacket that had been left forgotten over the arm of a couch. For all intents and purposes it was a normal adult living space.
Iverson sighed and sunk into one of the couch cushions.
Why was he even surprised? Of course Austin wouldn't carry on with the same sloven lifestyle after all this time. Of course he'd learn to live on his own with no support.
So why did it all make Iverson feel so much pity for the man?
Even the drug thing. Why was he so desperate to prove himself wrong? To prove that that video was some kind of freak thing?
He shouldn't care. He didn't have a reason to care.
If it hadn't been for Austin's selfishness his life would have been far better. Hell, Austin's life would be far better. Or not.
The heart defect would have reared its ugly head eventually. It could have been anywhere at any time. It COULD have been picked up before the test flight, but it was just slightly possible it might not have been.
Iverson supposed that was what bugged him about all this. This visit had incited feelings of uncertainty in him. About his own position in life, about Austin's position, and about how he felt about his best frie- former. Former best friend.
Glancing down at the coffee table, he spotted a book on the corner and picked it up. He needed to take his mind off of things. Reading had always helped to readjust his mind in the past. Didn't matter what it was, so long as it was words.
He read the title, opened the book to the bookmarked page and read.
An hour later Iverson was in his car driving across the night time desert landscape back to his barrack at the garrison. His temporary feelings of camaraderie stifled, as he angrily tried to concentrate on the terrain in front of him and not on what he'd do to Austin the next time they saw one another.
Back at the shack, the book lay open on the floor where it had been thrown. It's pages naturally lying in alignment with the most viewed page where a pictures of a cactus with a pink flower lay in full view on the sheet with the caption;
Peyote; a small spineless cactus native to mexico and southwestern texas known for its psychoactive alkaloids and hallucinogenic effects.
The stars were marvelous. Blinking down at him almost in their own sort of curiosity.
But for once Austin wasn't looking at the stars. He was staring down at the small potted cactus in his hands. Rolling the pot in his fingers contemplatively, Austin considered his position.
Iverson's drug suspicions COULD have arisen as a result of his dislike but Austin worried that this wasn't the case. He had never been the kind of person who jumped on people he hated with false accusations.
No. That wasn't his way.
Iverson was the picture of the ever dutiful and honorable soldier. Loyal and truthful to an absolute fault. He wouldn't make up a drug scandal just to ruin Austin's chance of a job at the garrison. It didn't fit his character.
So the only other option was that he had somehow caught wind of his… experiments.
For the life of him, Austin couldn't see what the big deal was. It wasn't like he was dealing hard cocains or smuggling heroin. It was just a matter of experimenting with a few natural remedies. Anything to make things a little more bearable.
He had heard peyote had been used as a reliever of ailments ranging from toothache all the way to pain in childbirth. It was a long shot but Austin had hoped the drug would have made some of the things about his condition a bit more bearable. If only to relieve the mental stress of the whole thing.
Austin had only really freaked out once. But that had been in the middle of nowhere where no one could see him. Otherwise his experiments had been, if not fruitful, at least somewhat enjoyable.
But if Iverson was going to be riding his ass on the issue, then the cactus would probably cause more stress than it relieved. Just talking together had made him feel a bit more on edge than usual. Not that he hadn't enjoyed the change in pace. Or the offer.
His mind drifted to the job at the garrison Iverson had mentioned.
It was a tempting offer.
The money he obtained from the garrison would be enough to set himself up in a better situation. No more drafty shack in the middle of the desert. The medical insurance would be a relief considering his condition. He wouldn't have to live alone, and the townsfolk would likely stop talking in hushed whispers behind his back.
Yet this news didn't make him happy. In fact the disruption rather upset him.
Certainly the money, insurance, and change of workspace was tempting. But what good would it do? He was bound to die eventually anyway, so what was the point of prolonging the inevitable. Besides, what was there to live for?
Astrology was great. Beautiful even. But it wasn't… it wasn't flying.
The feeling of being lighter than air. The sheer joy and passion it had brought him. There was no feeling in the world that could ever compare to it. And he'd been permanently cut off from it.
Leaning against the side of the truck, Austin looked out at the stars and came to a decision.
He would drive back to his house, wait until the next morning, make a quick call to the garrison (he'd get the number somehow), and tell them to take their job and shove it up all their asses.
Three years. Three goddamn years wasting away out here.
And Iverson only visited NOW?!
Austin didn't have any close family members, he'd lost all his comrades to that stupid accident, he lost the ability to FLY.
But only NOW did his so-called best friend come see him. Only when his superiors twisted his arm and forced him to come out to pick up their showcase candidate. And what the actually hell was up with that reasoning?!
Why hello there! We're making a school that could permanently influence future generations! Who should we hire as one of our instructors? I know! Why not that ace pilot we kicked out a few years ago? He's not good for anything else RIGHT?!
Austin punched the metal of his truck before immediately regretting the action as he hissed in pain and tried to shake off the pain. The pain dissipated along with most of his anger.
Looking at the peyote in his hand, Austin moved to place the plant back in his truck. Once he turned down the job, Iverson would have no pretense to see him anymore. Not like there was anything he could do about his herb hobby anyway.
A flash of light appeared at the corner of Austin's vision.
He blinked and shifted his gaze to its source, half expecting Iverson's jeep speeding towards him.
The source of the light was a rather bright star.
Blinking, Austin scanned the horizon until he found polaris and then shifted his gaze back at the star.
"You're not supposed to be there."
The star was so bright that he would have observed it at some point previously. Stars like THAT didn't just APPEAR in the night sky on its own.
As he narrowed his eyes on the offensive little speck it became obvious that the speck… was moving.
A plane? No not likely.
It must have been some kind of debris breaking up in the atmosphere. A large meteorite of some kind likely.
His mind drifted back to that old superstition about wishing upon a shooting star.
Austin scoffed at the idea but nonetheless couldn't help but speak the rather ridiculous rhyme he'd learned as a child.
Closing his eyes he muttered under his breath,"Starlight, star bright, first star I see tonight: I wish I may, I wish I might, have this wish I wish tonight."
He chuckled as he opened his eyes and thought to himself, I wish I could get that feeling back.
The star shone brighter as this thought.
And then brighter.
And brighter.
And then the 'star' flew across Austin's vision and crashed with a bright flash behind a distant rock formation.
The former ace pilot stared as the flash dimmed but a newly, vaguely blue, luminescence filled the air. His jaw dropped in shock.
And the potted cactus crashed to the ground.