Malcolm had a secret. It wasn’t a big secret as secrets go but it was one he kept fastidiously from Rey, the coffee girl and in fact everybody at the office – that is, if you could call the little cubicle at the Border Watch an office. If you had asked why he did it he would not have been able to answer other than to say “It keeps me from going apeshit.”

Walking to the fighter that looked more like something Antoni Gaudi could have put together than anything that could actually fly, never-mind fight, he reflected on the Mission Statement and how what he was doing could seriously jeopardise his promotion options.

The adrenalin started pumping as the platform rose and deposited him neatly in the cockpit. The harness fastened itself and the visor and helmet adjusted to his face. Neural connectors plugged themselves in and the instructors voice boomed in his head. “We’ll be flying a spin today!”

Stuff homogeneity thought Malcolm I’m addicted to this!

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