The 15 year old, rusty Covenant was falling blindly through space, facing what seemed like the

void itself. Just behind the aircraft lay the remains of Ironia, the planet of factories. All of Ironia was now burning relentlessly, slowly converting all the houses, industries and factories left into ashes. An entire civilization was erased in the blink of an eye. Nobody even knew how it happened. It was just another great morning, when most houses and factories blew up, for no apparent reason. No signs of short circuits in any building, or any explosive device were spotted the night before. Somehow almost every house and industry in every side of the planet was turned into a bomb. Metal parts of machines and robots, hurled into Area-21NU by the explosion, flew slowly around the Covenant. Inside its cockpit, lying almost asleep in the comfortable pilot seat, is the A-Class Skydiver Raynold Fates, eating chips and carrying Vincent, his eagle, on his shoulder. The destruction of his home planet didnt seem to bother him. Not that he cared for anything else in his life Its been three days since Ray last bathed, so his wild blonde hair is even wilder than normal. It usually stands firm on his head, being medium sized, falling only behind his ears. Now, small bangs fly towards every direction, resulting in a complete mess. His blue eyes sparkled in the half-dark cockpit, being a little watered because of all his yawning in the past 15 minutes. He had to shave. His mustache started appearing again, and his beard grew on his cheeks once again. He wears his favorite short sleeved shirt, although it is kind of worn out. It used to be light blue when he bought it one year ago, but after almost 300 days of wearing it, it has turned to absolute white. Well, you couldnt expect much from a 5 dollar shirt made in Ironia. His planet was the best in production of electronics and metal. They shouldnt have even tried their luck in clothing. It only ended up in a complete failure. Waste of budget. Still, Ironian clothes worked wonders for keeping you warm, even if they were so light. Rays jeans were also Ironian, but he managed to keep them in an acceptable condition. Vincent, the wild eagle Ray found and tamed in the flatlands of Zikane back when he was 16, was also asleep, sitting on Rays shoulder. It seemed to have adopted Rays way of life. It has been three weeks since he left. Three weeks without any incoming transmissions. No commands for him. Well, there actually wasnt anyone left to command him. In these past 21 days, Ray had drifted through most of Area-21NU. He didnt even bother raising the throttle. Thank Newton and his inertia, Ray thought as he chowed down another potato chip. He took out a Karl cigarette and lit it. As he took a puff, Vincent squealed. Oops, sorry, my friend, said Ray, putting out his cigarette. I got carried away and forgot you hate to watch me smoking. He petted the eagle. You think its killing me, dont you? Oh, Vince you shouldnt care that much for me. The best thing about having no-one to command you is that there are absolutely no annoying sounds. Nothing to break your state of relaxation. Ray hated the loud bleep heard from the console when there was a message from him. It always meant work. He was probably the only pilot in his planet that couldnt stand being a pilot. Being a pilot required devotion to the job. All the other folks in the fleet dreamed of being an aircrusher in their childhood. They started training even before puberty. Mark, for example, started driving at the age of 10. He piloted his dads U-

Gram on his 16th birthday and entered the army when he was 18. After three years of immense training, he became a skydiver. Ray on the other hand had no intention of joining the army. He hated it. He had been told by his brother, Clyde, that soldiers have lots of responsibilities. He was a marine, back in the beginning of the revolution. Although his brother loved to serve the planet, Ray was the kind of guy that would rather chill out while all hell breaks loose around him. Well, not that hes doing something else right now In his childhood, Ray was a real menace. Ever since he got struck by puberty, he loved anything that could fly. He would often take a hover pod and simply fly away, go to the small canyon near the city, to practice stunts, or go through the Shallow Caves, far to the flatlands of Zikane, to try to break his own high speed record. He would often lose control and fall harshly on the ground, since hover pods have really low stability, especially while flying with the speed of 180 kilometers per hour. Although his injuries should have kept him in bed for a month, most of the times he was up and running after 3 days. What he really loved to do was to sneak into his fathers garage and steal an aircraft. His favorite was the Covenant, mostly because of its torque. The Covenant had the best torque for about eight years after its public release. Thats because twelve years ago, when a new company, that new company, Airbank, developed such technology that allowed aircrafts to perform flawless U turns while having the speed of 200 MACH. The U-Grams. Even though they took over the market, public or not, Rays family didnt buy a single U-Gram. Not even any other aircraft in the U series. Rays father believed the Covenants and generally the 3G Aircrafts were much more cost-effective and that with some practice, they would be able to perform the same maneuvers as the U ones. Ray had destroyed almost ten planes by the age of 16 but not a single one of them was a Covenant. The only thing that interested him was flying. Ray was half asleep, almost dreaming of his childhood, when he first stole that old, rusty, dirty aircraft. Was it a 2G Z-Fire? Well, whatever it might have been, it was lost somewhere in the Shallow Caves. Theres a reason theyre called Shallow. Nothing bigger that an escape shuttle could fit through there. That is, if youre anyone except Raynold Fates. He still remembers how the whole shuttle was shaking as he shifted it in any direction he could, avoiding the caves walls as much as he could. Well, he didnt succeed. The aircraft stalled and young Ray was unable to regain control over it. Just before it hit the ground, he ejected, so he wouldnt hit the ceiling. The Z-Fire or whatever was it- drifted through the cave and fell into a pit about 200 meters away. Ray landed on a relatively smooth part of the ground, but he still got pretty damaged. He could still walk, although limply. He still remembers the sweet mix of emotions he felt at the time. The acute pain plus the satisfaction of having accomplished what noones ever done before was a pretty dazing combination. It felt great. I did it. I drove a whole aircraft into the Shallow Caves!, he thought, filled with excitement. But what about the aircraft itself? Is it okay? Just when young Ray was reaching to see down the pit, from where a strange light was emitted, the actual, big old lazy Ray woke up abruptly.

It was the ships siren that woke him up. Still drooling, Ray glanced at the radar. Excitement filled him as he saw an unknown ship approaching him. Contrary to most pilots, he was always happy to hear the siren. All the pilots from his fleet have admitted that the sound of the siren gives them a slight stomachache. The siren meant danger. Ray loved danger. And, since a spacecraft was approaching him, danger meant a dogfight. Ray felt his adrenaline filling him with impatience. The ship was now 100 km away, so the Covenants sensors could recognize its model. Identify, said Ray. As the aircrafts processor scanned the image, he took the tray with the nachos and the cheese and began eating them. After five and a half nachos, the identifying was completed. Took you too long, said Ray as he swallowed the sixth nacho. He glanced at the HUD, where the answer was displayed. A single word was projected on the screen. Unrecognized. Ray slowly grinned as he put away the tray. This makes things a lot more interesting! He grabbed the throttle and pushed it slightly, until he reached 100 km/h. The console beeped loudly. Request for video-link received said the cold, metallic, robot voice coming from the consoles speakers. Decline, replied Ray immediately. Ill get in trouble if they get my face. Request for an audio-link instead. He turned towards Vincent. Hey, Vince. Come here boy. Wanna talk to someone with me? The eagle flew silently across the cockpit and landed on Rays shoulder. Request accepted, came the metal voice once again. After a few seconds of noise, the link was established. Hey there, Mr. Mysterious-Guy-With-Modified-Aircraft. Hows life? I see youre all on your own here, at the edge of Area-21NU. Whats your purpose? I am not obliged to answer that question, came the reply from the ships pilot. His voice was a relatively high-pitched voice of a male in his middle thirties. The accent was a weird German-Portuguese one. That was common only in Loantis. Identify yourself, pilot. Woah, chill, man I know you Loantisians have a pretty low temper, but it would be poli- Who are you? I need a name, he interrupted him. Be quick, I dont have all day. You dont really need a name, Ray said as he leaned back a bit and stretched his back. All you need is a reason. Refusal of identification is considered a hostile action, came the reply from the com-link. You are viewed as a Nakkor. Prepare to die. There youve got it. You people can find excuses for a battle anywhere. Ray fired up the engines and grabbed the HOTAS, increasing the throttle to about 40%. That should be about right. Dont complain afterwards. You started it. The modified vessel also started accelerating and performed a turn to get right behind the Covenant. The Loantisian pilot activated the ships machine gun and started firing at Ray. Pff. That wont accomplish a thing. You know, even if my ships old, it was the best model for quite some time.