Breaking Through Limits (Larry Stylinson)

Chapter 3

"So you want to be a gunner." Tomlinson's voice was cool as he watched Harry put his personal items in his side of the narrow plasti-wood dresser. All his civilian clothes had been taken away and he had only been issued one uniform so far so it didn't take long.

"I was born to be a gunner. I've got a natural sight and my hand-eye coordination is off the charts." Harry lifted his chin defiantly, looking over his shoulder at his new partner who was lounging on the bed in a relaxed posture. The fact that there was only one bed, and not a very wide one at that, was a little disturbing, but he figured that either there was another bed that folded out or maybe a cot somewhere he could use. Tomlinson was frightening, irritating and fascinating, and Harry had no desire to sleep in such close proximity to him as the single bed afforded.

High on one of the gray metal walls was a small silver disk that looked like some kind of alarm or detector. Tomlinson had told him that it would go off in the event of another Saudeber invasion so Harry felt fairly confident he would never see it in action. The rest of the room was decorated with holo posters of Annihilation, a group Harry's parents hated. Rebel that Tomlinson obviously was, Annihilation still wasn't what Harry would have guessed he listened to. He wondered if the posters were left over from Tomlinson's last partner and suppressed a shiver.

"Well, well, a natural gunner." Tomlinson gave him a gentle smile. "And I see you still have your pretty curls too. The two might not mix, you know, Green Eyes. Did Marten tell you that?"

Harry swallowed a lump of resentment and finished putting his things away. "Colonel Marten said that you would decide if my hair bothered you while we were flying." He scowled. "I don't see what my hair has to do with your ability to pilot though."

Tomlinson rolled over on one side and frowned at him, the scar on the right side of his face very white against his gold tan skin. "It has to do with whether I can see over your ridiculous mop to fly or not, Newbie. We'll both have on flight masks but if your hair gets in the way... Look, do you even know what the inside of a Needle looks like? Or the outside for that matter? Of course you don't," he answered his own question before Harry could open his mouth. "It's classified information. All you know is that it's silver and sleek - the fastest machine ever created by man with enough firepower to take out a small city. Am I right?"

Harry shrugged uneasily. "It is classified, like you said," he pointed out, hating to admit his ignorance.

Tomlinson shook his head and let out a short laugh. "Yeah, the Needle is the Fleet's secret weapon, all right. And the way you fly one is the Fleet's biggest secret."

"What do you mean?" Harry frowned at him, crossing his arms over his chest. 

"You'll find out. Come on." Tomlinson was off the bed in one fluid movement and headed for the door.

"Where are we going?" Harry hated to trail after the older cadet like a lost puppy but Colonel Marten had told him to stick close to his new partner, so he didn't feel like he had a choice.

"To the target range," Tomlinson said over his shoulder. "You're about to learn some hard truths, Green Eyes. And we'll see if you can keep your pretty hair."