12 Years Earlier

"GET UP YOU WORTHLESS FREAKS! MOVE , MOVE MOVE!"

Twenty feet hit the deck, men and women scrambling to pull on well-worn PT uniforms as MTI Kimball stood in the doorway, his face screwed up like he smelled something particularly ripe. All around him the young men and women, now sixteen in most cases, were well versed in getting a move on quickly and efficiently from a dead sleep.

All except for.....

One

Two lines of perfectly spaced men and women stood at attention faces forward unexpressive, looking perfectly ready for a mug shot or a photo taken at the DMV.

Again

All except for one.

Staff Sergeant Kimball clasped his hands behind his back walking very slowly up the line towards the last scrambling recruit, who, unlike his companions, had not made it into line fast enough. He took a deep breath screwing up his face in preparation for an insult that was yet to come. He hadn't seen these particular recruits in a while. He had been held back to meet their next class of trainees, but as their second year instructor had retired, he had been sent back to meet with the first class.

He was not surprised to see the recruit still struggling.

He WAS surprised to see the recruit had made it through his first year.

He stopped standing with feet planted at shoulder width before the young man's eyes watching as he struggled to pull on his navy blue shorts, but making no headway.

"Give up recruit, that operation seems beyond your capabilities." He said mildly, "Now stand up for Jupiter's sake."

The young man paused, and then stood, but as he stood, when Sgt Kimball expected him to stop, he just kept rising, and rising, and rising. By the time he was fully standing Sgt. Kimball was staring at the young man's chest rather than where he had expected his face to be. Slowly he tilted his head back and craned his neck to look up, into the grimacing and apologetic face of a young man that, Sgt. Kimball barely recognized.

Sometime in the past six months of his absence had risen well over six feet in height, lost ninety percent of the baby fat from his cheeks and chin, and put on enough muscle to give him a considerable chest measurement.

He did not know how to wear it, all awkward and tall, ducking like he thought he was going to run his head into something.

"Holy fuck recruit, did Willy Wonka send you to the taffy puller?"

Recruit Vir smiled before realizing he wasn't supposed to find than funny, grimacing instead. Sgt Kimball looked him over very slowly, noting from toe to head, the overly tight socks, the discarded shorts that, wouldn't have gotten on with a prayer and gods own blessing, the shirt that, had the boy raised his arms would have become a belly shirt, and finally the apologetic face, which at this point must have been so used to embarrassment, that he didn't even bother to flush red.

"Sweet Mother, get out of my sight, and to the requisitions office and get yourself a pair of pants that fit. Holy shit, I didn't know we had upgraded to extra jumbo sizes, go go go, get moving before I have to see another moment of your tighty whities."

It was the relief on the young man's face that struck him the most as he jogged out of the room in his too tight socks and in his underwear, not seeming to care who was going to see him on his way over. Sgt. Kimball almost forgot where he was for a moment, making a face, "What the fuck have they been feeding that kid human growth hormone?"

"Lard."

He turned on his spot eyeing the recruits, who still stood straight and eyes facing forward.

"One of you thinks they are smart don't they, well show me how smart you are and less see if you know how to count to 100. GET ON OUR FACES."

***

Recruit Adam Vir had not worn a pair of pants that fit him since the second week of training. At first it was his thighs, which started to grow as a result of all the workouts and runs they did, and then his feet grew about two sizes, making his socks uncomfortable, and then it was the painful growth spurt that he had had sometime around march, which took him from one of the shortest people in his class, to the tallest.

And during that time, he had been subjected to all manner of humiliation.

It was too the point where it didn't really phase him anymore.

Besides, he had recently found that his ability to make MTI's laugh had a way of getting his platoon out of trouble, and that in turn made him surprisingly popular among his peers. The attention he would have hated in school had turned him into soemthing of a hero among the others, which had then turned into a natural, if not awkward, ability to get people to like him.

The short story.

He was actually, kind of popular?

He jogged back to barracks wearing a new pair of socks and a new pair of pants which weren't endangering the health of his..... more unmentionable areas, skidding to a halt in formation as Sgt Kimball walked up and down their lines.

"Who's your squad leader?'"

Adam straightened himself, "I AM SIR."

Sgt Kimball frowned, "You, I asked for the squad leader now class clown."

Adam stifled an apologetic look, and Sgt Kimball looked him over before sighing, "I'd question your decision making, but today is an especially important day for the group of you. Today is the first day of your actual flight training . The past half year and a month or so, we have spent time making you physically and mentally able to preform the tasks we are asking, and today we are going to put that into practice. The group of them would have exchanged a look if it were not for their training, remaining completely still.

"Squad leader, on me."

Adam straightened up even tighter eager to impress the Staff Sgt, forming his group into two neat rows, "Right FACE! Forward March!" They jogged alongside the Sgt towards the main base, skirting around the edge of the landing field, which took the on a jaunty two miles before actually reaching the main compound. The group of them were wide eyed and open mouthed as they watched the jets take off and land o the runway, listening to the screaming of the engines, and watching the men and women on the ground flagging waving to each other and motioning jets into position.

The main compound house training facilities on the first floor, and administration buildings on the top few floors. Big glass windows marked out where the brass had their offices. The group of them marched up to the front doors where another one of their MTIs was standing.

She was tall, statuesque, and the focus of many young man's fantasy. Up until the point she was in their faces beautiful face split into an expression of pure evil, screaming at the top of her lungs and coming up with insults so creative she might have been able to rival Shakespeare .

She was a redhead.

No one was surprised.

"Well if it isn't my favorite class of cherubs, but, awkward and." She looked at Adam, "Big...." She looked him over, "Did you grow another inch this week recruit?"

He sighed, "Probably Ma'am."

"Hm. Regardless of Recruit Vir's sudden transformation from hobbit to half giant . I am more than pleased to welcome you to the recently constructed TSACA advanced training center where it is going to be our job to see how many times you throw up." From behind her back she produced a mobile white board and marker with all of their names neatly written on it in surprisingly girlish handwriting, "I have all your names written right here, and at the end of this year we are going to be giving out prizes for the most suffering ."

The group snickered slightly.

"if you will follow this way please."

The group of them did as told jogging into the hallway and down the wide concrete floor seeing only a few figures at the end of hallways, but otherwise finding themselves surprisingly alone. They were lead down the hallways, until eventually finding themselves in front of a set of double doors, which opened onto a catwalk over a very large room. At the center of this room sat a massive contraption bracketed to the central axis and with two rotating arms on either side holding some sort of capsule at the end.

Adam stepped forward boot clanking on the floor, "No way."

"Recruit Vir, why don't you explain to the rest of the class what this fine piece of machinery does, before you pee yourself with excitement."

He wasn't even embarrassed because they were right, at any other time he might have peed a little, "It's a "human centrifuge" Sir, its used to simulate the G forces pilots experience for training purposes."

"Very good, and how many Gs can the average person handle."

"Four to five sir, depending on genetic tolerance."

"And how many Gs can a trained pilot handle>"

"Nine Gs prolonged sir, but 12 Is possible if you know what you're doing 46.2 gs on a bad eject but that's for a very very short time, sir."

Sgt Kimball frowned, "Is there anything about flying you don't know recruit?"

"Uh..... the actual flying part sir."

"At least he's honest. Now over the next few months we are going to be training you I the proper techniques for surviving the G forces you will be experiencing during flight. Now, luckily for you, and as a great honor we have a special guest who is here to oversee your training as she has a vested interest in how well this program goes. May we introduce Captain Tala Kelly."

Adam spun sharply on his heel and nearly fell over the catwalk railing. Sgt Kimball had to grab him by the arm to steady him as an unobtrusive figure slipped in from behind the rest of the group,. She was wearing the light tan ACUs expected at the facility and wouldn't have stood out if it was not for, what Adam Vir would have called, her iconic face he had seen in so many books and documentaries by this point it was seared onto his visual cortex .

Tala Kelly was not a woman who stood out for her looks, she demanded attention by the way she walked, the way she spoke, and the way she remined silent. The expression on her face was one of such extreme focus that she could have lit inanimate objects on fire if the laws of the universe allowed it, and it was probably only by gods own intervention that she could not do it anyway. Descended from ancestors in the Philippines and Samoa, she wasn't very tall but she had all the stage presence of one of her Islander ancestors.

Adam was star struck, unable to take his eyes off her as she scanned the room. They had learned almost exclusively off training videos based on footage that had been taken of her. She was the worlds most accomplished pilot, and she was soon to lead them into a new age of space exploration.

"Get any more excited recruit, and I'd half expect you to start hugging her leg." Sgt Kimball whispered in his ear.

This time he did turn red, looking down at his feet though stealing glances at her on occasion.

Did she notice him?

What did she think.

Was she disappointed?

Impressed?

Did she like what she saw?

"Thank you for the introduction Sgt. Kimball. I'm not one for speeches, so I'll get straight to the point. One or more of you are going to be invited to join the crew of the Enterprise on her maiden voyage. With your flight training, it is also likely that one of you will take over rom me when I retire, or even be given ships of your own if space exploration pans out like we hope it will."

Adam's head was swimming.

His own ship.

To think

If that ever happened he would eat his gym shorts.

He would do anything to make that a reality.

If that meant kissing Sgt. Kimball on the lips he probably would have seriously considered it.

"It might also mean that one of you I will have the privilege of flying the ship when I cannot, or even piloting the shuttle to the surface of Proxima B barring any of that."

He wanted it so bad he could taste it.

"So you can see why it is in my interest to make sure that all of you are properly schooled for such situations. Before we do any of that however, I need you to understand the power you are up against. I want all of you to experience a turn or two inside that machine with no G suit and no training. I want you to feel the kind of monster you are up against."

The class shifted nervously.

Adam danced from one foot to the other in excitement.

"Who would like to go first."

Adam's hand shot up so fast he almost clobbered Sgt Kimball in the head, and had to be grabbed by the collar so he wouldn't pitch over backwards. As captain Kelly's eyes scanned over them, their gazes finally met.

He was bouncing up and down in his boots eyes wide.

No one else had raised their hand.

She raised an eyebrow, and looked him over slowly, "You sure this one will fit in a cockpit?"

"Just barely ma'am." Sgt Kimball muttered pressing his hand into Adam's shoulder to keep him glued to the floor.

She tilted her head, "Well might as well let him go first, he seems ready to take off either way."

Adam felt his stomach tingle as he was lead down the stairs and into the large centrifuge. He stepped inside and was locked into the five-point harness watching as the door shut closed. After a moment, the arm began to spin slowly.

"Operator ready?

"Ready."

"Alright, this is how its going to work , relax breathe normally, and when you are ready go ahead and pull back on that stick."

The voice was mechanical, surrounding him on all sides

"Okay."

"Final ready."

"Ready."

He reached forward hand squeezing around the fake joystick, pulling back on it with one hand. As soon as he did, he could feel himself speeding up. Outside the room began to flash by with increasing urgency with every second.

He took a deep breath.

"Keep your head back, breath normally."

The speed continued to increase.

He felt the blood rushing away from his head.

It all happened so fast, one moment he was reaching speed, the next his vision had gone grey,. There was a massive force pressing him back into his seat, his vision went completely black around the edges, he felt like he was being crushed from above, like shooting up after diving down on a roller coaster , he lost feeling in his arms, and his vision went completely black.

"You alright,"

"How are you feeling?"

"Can you hear us."

His head jerked upright, and he looked around in confusion staring blearily at his hands which were no longer on the joystick but dangling in front of him. For a second, he didn't remember where he was

"You doing ok?"

It was coming back to him now quickly, vision suddenly bursting with color, the blackness gone.

"you feeling alright."

"Woah...."

"How are you feeling?"

"Uh, kind of like I got hit by a truck.... an awesome truck but still a truck " he heard snickering in the background, "Can I.... go again."

"leave some of that enthusiasm for everyone else."

He felt the machine pull to a stop, and he was met by a few of the technicians that helped him step out, wobbly but otherwise ok, ready to get back in if they asked.

Over the next month they were right, the recruits would learn the proper technique for withstanding high Gs. This did include a G suit, but mostly involved the flexing of muscles in the legs butt chest back and stomach in order to force blood into the head. They would also have the unfortunate experience of rewatching their training sessions, and coming to learn what everyone's G face looked like.

The face being what they made as they were trying not to pass out, straining all of their muscles to keep conscious.

One of the recruits looked as if his eyes were going to bug out of his head, another poor recruit looked as if she was straining to take the world's most massive dump, and Adam, to his chagrin, learned that he made a rather horrible duck face when applying the correct breathing technique. He had tried getting rid of that habit but had ended up passing out instead, and was forced to face the fact that he was just going to have to look dumb.

He consoled himself with the fact he would be wearing a visor and oxygen mask during that time, and that would make him look cool again.

A few of his friends pointed out that he already looked dumb so that didn't matter so much.

All the while Captain Kelly was watching.

She did a demonstration, and somehow just managed to look angry rather than stupid reaching 12 gs very quickly before being allowed back down.

Adam was awestruck the entire time.

He wanted so badly to be like her he could taste it.

Wanted to impress her

Wanted her to remember him.

If anyone was getting on that ridge, it was going to be him