The Secret to Flying - An MCYT Cyberpunk/Dystopian AU

3: Scar

I like this book :>

'...Officer Biffa crashed in Allium Square, in 2094, they created the Blink initiative, where all damage done had to be repaired within a week of a crash, or...'

'We're here!'

'Wait... shoot, we're here?!' I'd been so distracted by Hawk facts, I barely noticed me and Bdubs reaching the golden gates to the Hawk base, early in the morning of my first day as a Hawk. My excitement flips to trepidation, my hands shaking as I show the two All-Protecting guards the acceptance letter on my holo-screen. My heart races as they read through. What if I got the wrong day? Or it was a scam? It all looks official, right? It's all...

'Name?'

'Scar Goodtimes.'

'Date of birth?'

I answer the questions, barely believing this is real to the point of getting a couple questions wrong at first. But in the end, the guards unlock the gates.

'And... you?'

'Oh, I'm just his brother,' Bdubs replies. 'I'm not... a Hawk.'

'Then get back to your home. Scar Goodtimes, follow us.'

I do, waving Bdubs goodbye. The gates close behind him, and I hurry to catch up with the guard, while trying to take in everything here. The fact I'M here, staring at GenerikB's plane. (An HC_1) on the roof of the reception building. The first Hawk leader.

'Scar Goodtimes, right?'

I blink back to attention, the small Hawk Officer next to me.

'Uhh- yes! Hello!' I take in his blond-brown hair, the prosthetic eye and burn scars across his face, wondering what crazy mission he got those in.

'Hey, Scar. I'm Officer Grian.' We shake hands. Grian gives a nod and a 'Thanks, Wels.' to the guard before leading me inside. 'I'll be your mentor until you become a fighter.'

'Fledglings have mentors?!' I reply.

'Yeah. Come on we need to get your equipment.'

'I get uniform and stuff now?'

'We don't want anyone panicking about an intruder.'

'So, so I'll have my own flight suit? And, am I right in thinking they have a system to put on all your uniform for you? And doesn't everyone have a special number? And their own plane? Can I have my own plane?!' As Grian crosses his arms I fall silent, turning red. 'Sorry... I'm... very excited about being a Hawk. I've applied 154 times...'

'It's alright... Everything's through here.'

Grian leads me through a door off the side of the room, to what appears to be some kind of dressing room.

'Right, from now on you'll need to remember your number... you're number 188. All of your stuff will be marked with 'SG_188. Not your name, SG_188. This is the code you'll need to access all your records, and your new account on the system.'

'Ok!' 

'Now, talking of your stuff...' Grian hands over a box. 'All your uniform is in there. You need to wear that every day, and for any flying, you have your flight suit. That'll be kept here. There's a changing room there to see if it all fits.'

I nod, and enter the changing room. My heart's racing again I pull out all my new stuff, laying it to the side... Shirts, blazers, fancy shoes. Then under all that, my flight suit. Armour, personalised just like in the films, a bomber jacket, boots and gloves. Everything. Official. Mine.

There's another smaller box at the bottom. I carefully pick it up, opening to reveal a shining gold and purple pin. The Hawk symbol. The true identifier of a Hawk, the prized possession of any of them. I hold it carefully, tears in my eyes.

I'm a Hawk.

I'm actually a Hawk.

'Scar, are you alright in there?'

'Yeah, I'm just- looking at everything... This is real, right? I'm- I'm not dreaming?'

'You're not dreaming. Just get into your stuff so we can see if it fits.'

I do. It doesn't feel any more real in my flight suit, or my uniform. There's a mirror in the room and I just keep staring at the smartly dressed, excited Hawk Fledgling on the other side. Outside, Grian gives me the last and best piece of Hawk equipment. A helmet, designed specifically for me, linked to my Hawk account, which Grian helps me sign into on my holo-screen. Then there's a couple pictures to be taken for my account, before we start on the tour. 

'So, this is reception. Every morning you'll sign in here on your holo screen, before heading to breakfast. Though only Fledglings actually eat in there. The food's disgusting.'

'But it's full of healthy stuff to make us better fliers...'

'Believe me, the best fliers here are the ones who spend time in the air instead of being out sick for 3 weeks after vomiting in the corridor... and talking of vomiting in the corridor, look who's late again.'

'Ohh... give over, Grian. What are you doing here?' A blond in the same Fledgling uniform as me enters reception, followed by another Fledgling with a green streak in his hair.

'I'm giving Scar a tour. He's new... Scar, meet my pals Tim.'

'It's Jimmy.'

'And Joel.'

'Yeah, I'm Joel. I'm the big sexy one, if you hadn't already noticed.'

'They're Fledglings like you. So you'll be training with them.'

'Well hello there Tim-Jimmy and Joel!' I shake their hands. 'I'm Scar! Grian's gonna give me a tour. Wait, Grian, can they come too? Surely it'd be good for me to get to know my fellow Fledglings. Teamwork's very important for Hawks,' I add. I need to start finding friends, people I can trust 500 feet in the air, co-pilots I trust. This is a perfect chance.

'Please Grian, if we don't have a good excuse for being late, we'll be put on cleaning duty again.' Jimmy begged. 'And it's game-night as well with Martyn and Oli.'

'Fine. Hopefully I have enough authority to make you skive Hawk training.'

'Why would you want to skive Hawk training? You get to fly planes!'

'Flying planes is not the only part of being a Hawk, Scar.'

'We don't even get to be in real planes until we graduate to fighters,' Tim-Jimmy adds.

'Which is good, considering the number of times Tim's crashed and ended up with fatal injuries in the simulations...'

'Canary curse...' Joel whispers with a grin. Jimmy shoves him.

'I'm not cursed!' he insists.

'...Canary?'

'He's always first to die,' Grian explains. 'Anyway, now Tim's general incompetence has been explained, let's continue the tour.'

Bad boys bad boys bad boyssss