Pursue the Past: Samair in Argos: Book 1 by Michael Kotcher Page B

in the fighter’s cockpit for thirty-six hours, nowhere near close, she had no desire to be caught outside the Grania Estelle without a skinsuit, which would provide its own life support should there be a serious issue with the fighter.  “I had it get started before I came down here, so it should be done in a few minutes.”
                  A few minutes later, she got herself into her suit and climbed into the cockpit.  Sealing her helmet, she brought the canopy down, which also sealed.  “Comm check,” Tamara said.
                  “Reading you clear,” the ops officer replied.  “Sounds good.”
                  “All right, I’m beginning power up procedures.”  Pressing a few buttons, she noticed that all the computer systems on board booted up properly and the readouts were all green.  “I’m in the green.  All set for launch.”
                  “All right, Moxie,” the captain’s voice came over the line.  “The cargo bay is depressurized and we’re opening up the door.”
                  “Right,” Tamara said, as she felt all those old feelings started flooding back.  It had been years (not counting the long sleep) since she’d flown a fighter, ever since she’d gotten out of the Starfighter Corps.  She very much enjoyed being an engineer, but there was nothing like that old feeling of flying, of being in the cockpit.  While the design and building of things, great and small, was probably a more fulfilling sensation in the long run, there was very little that could match the sheer adrenaline rush of a combat flight in a proper starfighter. 
                  This, of course, was only a test flight, to break all the gear in, to fine tune some things, but still, it felt the same.  The great cargo doors began to open, sliding inexorably upward until they disappeared in the upper section of the bay. 
                  “All right,” she said, as she hit the repulsors and the tiny ship rose up a meter from the deck.  She smiled mockingly.  “This is Moxie One, heading out.”  There was a chuckle over the comm.  Pressing the throttle levers gently, moving on maneuvering jets only, the Perdition fighter slid easily out of the bay and into the black.
     

Chapter 3
     
                  From of the bridge of the Grania Estelle , the captain and the rest of his bridge crew were watching the flight test while still keeping an eye on the ship’s systems.  The freighter was about ten light minutes from the hyper limit, beyond which the gravity well from the system’s star was weak enough that a ship could jump into hyperspace and fly away, faster than light.  And at the speed in which the Grania Estelle was currently wallowing through space at, they had another twenty-seven hours before they could jump. 
                  Which gives Moxie more than enough time for her test flight , the Captain marveled.  He was watching her, and her ship.  The fighter was moving around the Grania Estelle , clearly Moxie was using the freighter as a stable platform for her to perform her maneuvers.   The Perdition was twisting and turning, performing barrel rolls, looping around and over the freighter.  He could hear her whooping in delight on the radio, though he was sure she didn’t mean to be celebrating over the radio.  So far, he had to admit, he was impressed.  That pile of junk had been sitting in his cargo bay for a long time, just taking up space.  He’d had people look at it, but no one had wanted to do anything more with it than sell it for scrap.  He’d kept it as an oddity, a reminder of when the Republic was in better times, though he hadn’t been alive to see those times.  He’d never known himself to be nostalgic with anything other than the Grania Estelle .  The fighter had been in the cargo bay so long, he’d nearly forgotten about it.