"All right, boys- you're up next!" Lieutenant Mitcham waved Starbuck and Apollo forward. The boys exchanged nervous glances..

"You ready for this?" Apollo asked his friend.

"I'd damn well better be, since we're about to take off." He swallowed and shot a dubious glance at the pilot of the atmospheric craft he was about to spend the next centare in. Jareth, an upperclassman who didn't like the "little street-brat," smiled with a predatory gleam in his eye. Starbuck shot Apollo another dubious look , then climbed into the gunner's seat of the fighter. Apollo waved at him encouragingly as he ascended the ramp into the plane he would be riding in.

"All right, you can do this," Starbuck muttered to himself as he fastened his safety harness. He was peripherally aware of the preflight preparations going on around him, but he was more concerned with the apprehension that drowned out any excitement he might have felt about this training excercize. He'd been very excited, until he'd found out who was piloting.

"Hang on, street-brat," Jareth's voice came over the intercom. Then the engines, idling until now, cut loose with a wild scream of pure power and the plane slipped smoothly forward.

Despite his concern, Starbuck felt a thrill as the scenery shot by increasingly fast. The speed of acceleration slammed him back into his seat and he felt the nose of the craft tilt upwards. Then, with a bump and a roar, the plane was airborne. Starbuck craned his neck to see the ground dwindling into nothingness far below. There had been a time when all pilots were restricted to craft like this, when space had been but a dream.

Then the plane reached the designated altitude and all hell broke loose.

Jareth sent the plane through a series of standard maneuvers at a speed which had Starbuck's flesh trying to become one with the leather seat. He caught glimpses flashing by nauseatingly fast of the ground, clouds, and the other plane with Apollo in it. Then the plane went into a series of disorienting lurches, jolts, and dips as the two pilots engaged in a mock dog-fight.

At first, Starbuck enjoyed the ride. It was exhilirating. The speed, the scream of the engines, the clouds zooming by- it was the most incredible thing he'd ever experienced. But then, after the recall from the tower came across the radio, his previous apprehension returned, and then some. Because Jareth ignored the recall. Instead, he opened the throttle up even further, and sent the little plane into a steep climb.

"You barfed yet, street-rat?" Jareth called over the intercom.

"No!" Starbuck called. He instantly regretted it when the plane went into a high-speed spiralling dive.

"Well, you're gonna! Little street-brat wants to be a pilot, he's gonna learn what it's really like!"

Oh shiiiiiiiiiitttt....

Rolls, flips, dives that had his stomach trying to squirt out his nose- apparent suicide runs against mountains, with a pull-up right at the critical point- only sheer, stubborn pride kept Starbuck from filling the barf bag. He could hear increasingly urgent orders coming through on the radio for Jareth to return the craft to the airfield immediately. But the wild ride continued, until two other craft pulled in tight and snug against the plane and prevented Jareth from any further aerobatic maneuvers. Starbuck's head was still doing flips, however. He fought urgently to keep control of his guts as the plane turned and flew sedately back to the airfield. The final lurch and jerk of the landing nearly did him in, but he managed to hold on. Then he was being helped down by concerned hands.

"Star? Star, you okay? When he wouldn't come back, we got real worried-" Apollo was all over him, trying to help him stand up straight, but the world continued spinning as he looked around frantically. Then he focused on one important thing that held steady- the sign proclaiming a turboflush. He forced his legs into obedience and ran for the 'flush, where he proceeded to lose lunch, breakfast, and then even the memory of food.

When Starbuck emerged from the 'flush, pale but composed, the fuss had died down somewhat. Apollo still awaited him, but the rest of their classmates had dispersed. The hangar personnel moved quietly about their tasks, restoring order to the hangar after the adventures of the students.

"You okay now, man?"

Starbuck smiled wanly at his friend's concern. "Yeah. Damn, that was fun- up until that asshole decided he had to make me puke."

"We thought he was going to kill you both, some of the shit he was pulling! You shoulda heard Mitcham- couldn't decide if he was impressed by the flying, or if he was going to dismember Jareth."

"I vote for dismemberment."

"Figured you would. C'mon, let's get back to the room."