SECOND DRAFT: Hard Bank Left

42

Celeste sat in her harness, awaiting further instructions. Krys had been gone longer that she had initially anticipated, long enough to make Celeste worry. She was about to get up and activate the coms when the door to the pilotry slid open and Krys burst through.

"Cese, come on. It's showtime."

"What already?" she protested, in spite of already having unstrapped her harness.

"Already."

"But they said." Celeste was already half up the ladder.

"Forget what they said, if you don't go now we're not going to get another window."

"Alright." She paused, taking in Krys's general appearance. "You weren't wearing that a minute ago. Krys why are you carrying a gun?"

"No time to explain. We need to get you geared up, which means you need the strip gear I have packed away." Krys escorted her out of the pilotry, ordered Jarreth to take Celeste's forward position. In Krys's room, she threw a skin-tight set of clothing at her, a plain tee shirt and leggings. "Get these on. It'll come in handy when you get through the tower."

"How will clothes come in handy?"

Krys shrugged, cocked her head in exasperation. "Just put them on."

Celeste obeyed, dressing as quickly as possible. She found the shirt to be more restrictive than she anticipated, and the pants less restrictive. Krys cleared her throat as Celeste tested out her mobility, though Celeste couldn't tell if it was out of annoyance or if she genuinely had something stuck in her throat. Once satisfied that the clothing would do, Celeste followed Krys to the hold where she watched politely as Krys started opening and closing lockers one at a time, presumably looking for her flight suit.

"Do you remember the plan?" Krys opened the a locker door and pulled out her flight suit, as predicted.

Celeste nodded. The plan was simple enough, something she could probably manage in her sleep. Her only worry was that she would let them down, that she'd screw up and let everyone down. In this case, letting people down meant letting them die. As if her basic fear of failure wasn't enough.

Handing Celeste the flight suit, Krys looked at her questioningly. "So you've got this?"

Celeste took the flight suit and set to work pulling the taught fabric over her form fitting clothes. "Yes. I have this."

"Are you sure?" Krys helped her adjust the band around Celeste's hips so that the wings didn't get caught.

"I'm sure, Kryseis." She was not sure.

Their meeting with Alasier had done nothing to assure her that she was capable of accomplishing the task at hand. Sure, she had the technical skills, but it wasn't the same as being capable of doing the things required of her. As she had stood around the table on the bridge of the Polaris, Celeste got the distinct feeling that she didn't belong. There was little she could do about that. Being the only artificial creature in a room full of fleshy beings tended to have that effect on her. If it wasn't for Krys pulling her closer to the table she would have wandered off to the edge of the room and avoided being involved altogether. As it was, most of the plan hinged on her being capable of doing what they asked of her.

"Cese," someone had said, commanding her attention. "We're going to need you to take a flight suit and land on the top of Constantine tower. From there you're going to need to get down to the docking platforms and clear it for the Polaris to land."

"The Polaris?" she asked.

"This ship," Alasier explained. "She'll be waiting for your signal."