The TIE Fighter flitted in front of his viewport. The HUD blinked green for a second and then changed back to its standard state of blue as his firing solution appeared and then vanished. With a sigh, he continued to fiddle with the yoke, struggling to make his Interceptor turn and get behind the enemy craft. All of a sudden he heard lasers firing behind him. His craft shook and then everything went black. He slumped forward. The door out of the simulator opened slowly, far too slowly for his liking. He wanted out and away from this simulator already. It was always the same. As he walked through the crowded room he was careful not to make contact with anybody. He knew that while they never said anything they must have all been thinking the same thing. How could they not be? He had arrived here almost a year ago with high hopes of becoming one of those cool guys that were starfighter pilots. His reflexes just never seemed fast enough no matter how hard he tried. Now, after washing out of the program two times, he knew this was his last chance. Then a thought occurred to him. His family, while never rich, did have connections. So off he went to the communications room onboard the Century. There he started to compose a message for home. * * * * * His excitement was almost unbridled. It was time for his training to begin! He had finally made it through the simulator runs well enough to qualify himself for actual starfighter training in real ships. What nobody else in the Academy knew was the lethal amounts of drugs he was taking to make his reaction time fast enough to stay alive. He barely slept at night. Instead, he was taking other drugs to make him sleep occasionally and even more to keep his jitters down. It was only a matter of time before it would catch up to him, he knew. That didn't matter. He was going to become a real pilot first! As he sat in his cockpit listening to the instructor drone on about various items like inertial damping his mind kept wandering back to his imagined future. He would become one of the most feared pilots that the New Republic had ever seen. His future was boundless. * * * * * He proudly stood at attention as Commander Thuku walked down the row of newly graduated Lieutenants and awarded them their medals. Then the green Rodian stopped in front of him and gazed for a second. "We all know how hard you've worked these past months to pass and it pleases me to no end to see you graduate at the top of your class. As such, you will be given the privilege of flying with our fleet's Commanding Officer, Brigadier General Adam Fene on our next mission. Congratulations!" Unable to control himself, he reached out and hugged the Rodian. Surprised, Thuku returned the embrace for a second and then stepped back. The rest of the ceremony seemed to last for an eternity, but then it was over. He was so glad. He needed to get back to his cabin. The jitters were starting to come back, and worse than before. Starting to walk away, suddenly he found himself facing two smiling officers. They introduced themselves as Brian Neithen and Adam Fene. Stunned at hearing the second name, he did a double take. So this was the man who he would be flying with soon. "Hey there. Congratulations on a fine job in the academy!" The first man spoke. Of above average height with black hair, he seemed to have a perpetual smile and wore his rank well. Then the General spoke. All thoughts of Brian Neithen were quickly swept away as he started fantasizing how he would show everybody how good a pilot he was. "Why are you shaking?" The question jolted him back to reality. He was shaking very noticeably now. "It's okay sir. I just need to get back to my room and take some medication for it. It's nothing to worry about. Nothing at all." Surprised, they let him go. Almost running, he made it back to his quarters. His datapad was blinking. Somebody must have left him a message while he was out. He hurriedly hit buttons, but the shaking continued to get worse. He tried to ignore it as he read who had sent the message. It was the General! His first mission would be in twenty minutes! Excited, he left the datapad on his bed and ran to his drawers. In twenty minutes he would be flying and killing as many Imperial bastards as he could find. His hand shaking so badly he could barely grab the medicine bottle. He tried to open it. It wouldn't open. Frowning, he tried harder. He had to get some medicine so he could fly. Finally the bottle opened. He would undoubtedly be spending a lot of time away, so he emptied the entire bottle. His hand shaking, he crammed most of the pills into his mouth, with several falling onto the floor instead. Hopefully the extra pills would keep the shakes away longer. * * * * * As he stepped out of the shuttle and onto the deck of the Idiot's Array he felt as clear-headed as he ever had. Yet there was a strange pain in his chest. It wasn't bad at all, but it bothered him. He followed the General over to a nearby TIE Interceptor. Barely listening, he nodded occasionally and then climbed in. His first mission! Switches were flipped almost of their own accord. Then he was signaled that it was okay to leave the hanger. Easing forward on the throttle as he had been taught, the squint rose and slowly exited the hanger. * * * * * The Corvette! It was launching TIE Bombers! This seemed almost surreal, too similar to what he had seen in the simulators. Toggling his weapons over to torpedoes, he launched six. Spiraling his craft away, he looked back just as the final two torpedoes rammed the bridge of the Corvette and exploded, shredding the entire ship. He had gotten a kill! Then he noticed the Interceptors and Fighters that the enemy Frigate was launching. That moment it felt like his chest had collapsed. Hunching over, he made an almost inhuman sound. He reached up with one hand and twisted the piloting yoke, at the last minute sending the agile Interceptor into a tumble that utterly confused the enemy pilots. * * * * * On the bridge of the Idiot's Array Brian and Adam looked at each other in disbelief. The new pilot was doing well, but seemed to be having trouble somehow. "Sir! His lifesigns are going crazy! We don't know what's going on!" Quickly Wildcard Squadron was scrambled to save the IA and also to save their lone Interceptor. * * * * * His chest felt like it had exploded. Gasping, he wrenched his hand away from his chest and pushed himself into an upright position. Glancing at the scanners he saw only friendly signals. Turning on his comm. system he radioed the IA. "Sirs! Please......help me!" * * * * * The TIE Interceptor slowly turned and started accelerating. Adam shouted out an order. "Get a lock on that ship! Tractor it in NOW!" The TIE Interceptor was going so fast that the tractor beam almost didn't catch it. With its engines still going at full throttle, the best that could be done was to help it into a controlled crash. As soon as the ship was no longer viewable from the bridge Brian rushed down towards the hanger. When he arrived on the hanger deck all that was left was a crumpled mess with a body laying quite still. Running over, he didn't even get out the question. "He was dead when we got him out. His body just quit working." Shocked, Brian just stood there. How could this have happened? * * * * * Several weeks later the inquiry was over. The death had been ruled an accident caused by a massive drug overdose. Rather than disgrace his reputation, the decision was that they would keep this quiet and instead bury him with full military honors. As the casket slowly wound its way through the mass of people, Brian fought to keep from collapsing in tears. This boy had only wanted to be a pilot, and he had wanted it so much that he had killed himself. As the casket flew away from the RSSD Prometheus towards a nearby star, Brian turned to walk away. He slowly shook his head and vowed never to forget how much this chance of his meant to some people. He only wished that lives were valued this highly.