Special Notes: This is an emotionally intense episode and can be disturbing to some people. If you are particularly sensitive to air disasters, do not read this episode. [The Lone Gunslinger, Chapter 19, Raptor] I crack my eyes open slightly; I'm lying on my side and can see the clear glowing teeth of the mechanical robot monster coming at me. The beast's gaping red maw is wide and open, ready to devour me, but I'm too tired and close my eyes… no, I must stay awake and open my eyes again. The robot is blurry now, is it retreating? I close my eyes again and then blink, the blur of the monster changes, becomes more focused, and I'm looking at the red dying glow of the embers inside the open face of the tent's warming stove. Memories flood back and I remember where I am. Nobody is going to wake me up, I must wake myself up. The other Raptors are stirring from their blankets, rising, pulling their boots on, and checking gear. The truck will probably already be outside waiting to take us to our posts. After I was released from the hospital a Raptor instructor picked me up and brought me here; the Raptor Training Camp. There is a permanent camp for the Raptors near the civilian airport, but I won't be going there yet, this is only the Pre-Raptor training course to weed out the applicants that don't have what it takes to join the Raptors. The others trainees are wandering outside now and I get up and follow them out to the truck and line up while an instructor checks each of us and then gives us the go ahead to load up. Being a Raptor is not what I thought it was, but I sure can see how this is going to teach me patience and self-control. The first day was harder than I could have imagined; I would rather face the Beastie-Cats than this. House Falcon runs major airports on nearly every planet in the Empire, and the Falcons aren't all pilots. The truck pulls out of the training camp and speeds around the long access road around the many runways towards the airport concourses. I can see fuel trucks moving to different aircraft, and baggage handlers, and mechanics, and food delivery vehicles, and cleaning crews, and aircraft crews, and many others; all of them Falcons. The truck zips past rows and rows of brightly painted aircraft with the words 'Falcon Airlines' or 'South Falcon Airlines' or 'Continental Falcon Airlines' or 'Falcon Airbus' or… yea, a lot of different branches of the Falcon Airlines; I'm sure I haven't seen them all yet. The truck dips into a tunnel that goes under the terminal, yellow lights flashing past us on the sides of the tunnel. The tunnel angles up and we merge out into the mainstream traffic. It's still dark, early morning, and the traffic is already crowding the roads around the terminal. Yellow and blue and green taxi cabs zip around us. I like the green ones that have 'Falcon Express Cab' printed on the sides with the motto 'Trust our wings to get you there' printed under that. Something about a Falcon taxi just cracks me up. The truck pulls up to the 'Falcon Airbus West' terminal, this is my stop, and I jump out; the truck pulls away and leaves me there. I'll be here for the next twelve hours before I get another four hour sleep shift. I push the Com-mic hanging over my shoulder and report in, "Raptor 337 on post." "Roger, Raptor 337, have a good day," replies the Raptor Command Center. The early morning travelers are already arriving and crowds of people are unloading and… sigh, it starts already. I see my first problem of the day and walk over to a man shutting the trunk of his car and starting to walk towards the terminal doors. "Sir, you can't leave your vehicle there." "I'll only be a moment." "I'm sorry, sir, this is a loading zone only, move the vehicle or I will have it towed." "Do you have any idea who I am? Touch that car and I'll sue you and your little tin-badge security company. Got it!" The man taps on my chest for emphasis before grabbing his suitcases and walking around me. I watch the man push through the crowd and disappear through the double-glass doors into the airport terminal. I would really like to just shoot the man, that would be the Gunslinger way, but it's not the Raptor way. We have to show control and restraint, and always weigh profit versus security versus… blah blah blah… I really want to shoot that guy. I hit the timer on my watch, the man gets three minutes to obey my order to move his vehicle, but he won't. I've been here a week now and I've learned they never obey. Everyone thinks they are above the rules. "This is Falcon 337, I need a tow at the Falcon Airbus West terminal curb-side." "This is Tow 25, on the way." I love this part of the job, it makes up for the four hours a day sleep they let the trainees have. The tow truck is the most awesome thing I've ever seen and walk around to the drivers door of the car I'm about to have towed. The tow truck driver must have been nearby and shows up at the one minute mark. "Hey Keal, watcha got for me?" shouts the tow truck driver. "Oh hi, Greal, isn't your shift over?" I shout back. "Doing a double," shouts Greal. I watch my timer and wait as the seconds tick down. Three minutes and still no sign of the aggravating man that thinks he's above the rules. "Okay Greal, take it away," I shout. I love to watch this and hit the timer on my watch. The tow truck is a flat bed truck with a type of fork lift thingies on the side. The truck drops two anchor posts to counter the weight of the vehicle it's about to pick up. The forks come out from under the truck, extend under the car and lifts in the air and then onto the flat-bed. And that's it--I check my watch; twelve seconds to lift the vehicle and then the truck pulls away with the offending vehicle. I just love that. I reset my watch and wait. The man appears from the terminal almost twenty minutes later, and instantly starts screaming. "I'll have your job for this," screams the man. "You can pick up your vehicle at the Raptor impound lot, its twelve-hundred a day storage fee," I hand the man a claim ticket. "We only accept Daraian Commonwealth currency. Have a nice flight, Sir." The man grabs the claim ticket and rips it up and throws it on the ground and then grabs my arm and starts shaking me. "Sir, you can remove your hand and go get your vehicle, or you can remove your hand and go get on your flight, or you can remove your hand and be arrested for assault on a Raptor, either way you are removing your hand." The man continues shaking me and screaming in my face. I smile politely and wait just a bit longer. Control…Control… Keep control, people are watching, the Raptor Command Center is probably watching on the security cameras, and no doubt people are filming this and it will show up on the Imperial Net within the hour… Show restraint Keal… Control… Okay enough is enough, now do it gentle. I grab the man's wrist and step around the side and bring his arm back into a lock. You'd think I was killing the man, his screams just rise in volume. I can't let the man on an aircraft, he's too upset and it would endanger the other passengers. I key the Com-mic hanging off my shoulder. "This is Raptor 337, request assistance." "I've got this Keal," says a Senior Raptor coming through the doors from the terminal. The Senior Raptor takes the man by the arm. "Sir, you are banned from the airport for twenty-four hours, if you return before that you will be arrested for trespassing." The Senior Raptor pushes the man out to the street and shoves him into one of the Green Falcon Cabs. Another Raptor comes out of the terminal and gets into the cab with the man and the cab pulls away. The Senior Raptor walks back over to me, there is a fairly large crowd watching. "Well done, Keal," says the Senior Raptor. "Is there anything you could have done to defuse the situation better?" "I don't think so, Sir," I reply. "Leaving the vehicle there could have been a ruse to leaving a car bomb and possibly killing everyone here, there was too great a risk to the other travelers." I notice the other travelers, who were murmuring angrily among themselves, are now nodding in agreement. "That is correct, trainee, the rules are in place to protect the other travelers," says the Senior Raptor. "Can you tell me why I chose to release him instead of arresting him?" The other travelers are watching, no doubt public opinion of whether the Raptors handled this correctly or not will hinge on my answer. I consider my answer for a moment before speaking. "There is no reason to ruin a man's life for a momentary lapse in judgment over a breech in rules," I reply. "He was probably over-whelmed with his travel plans, and the excitement and stress of travel contributed to his lack of judgment and possible endangerment of the other travelers." "Very good, Keal, keep up the good work." The Senior Raptor pats me on the shoulder and walks back into the terminal, to the clapping of the crowd. "Good job, Raptor 337," says a voice on my Com-link. "An ounce of prevention is better than a bucket of bad press later on Grackle News." I can see why Simon thought it was a good idea for me to train with the Raptors, this is really hard and the Raptors have the patience of a priestess. The next several hours are busy, but nothing too bad. I help people find their gate, or the correct check-in desk. A group of armed Gunslingers come through and are cooperative while I check their credentials to make sure they aren't imposters. A minor disagreement breaks out at the baggage claim and I have to go break that up, the claim check showed whose bag belonged to whom. And then a group of high school students comes through an hour later and that was a challenge trying to keep them behaved, they wanted to play on the escalator and I had to shoo them along. I take my lunch break in one of the cafeterias and a boy around Josh's age wants to touch my gunbelt. I can't let him, of course, but I give him one of the Junior Raptor badges we carry for such things, and that makes him happy. I enjoy this job, if I wasn't going to be a Lone Gunslinger, I could be happy doing this. "Raptor 337 report to Gate B12," the voice on the Com-link orders. "Roger, on my way," I reply. I wonder why I'm being called to a gate. The Raptor trainees work curb-side and never get called to a gate. I walk through the concourse, Raptors never run unless it's a life or death emergency, it would panic the travelers--we have to show calmness at all times. Like I said, this is hard. I arrive at the gate, the doors down the walkway are open and a gate attendant is waiting with the Senior Raptor Instructor. "Raptor 337 reporting, sir," I announce myself. "Keal, we have a problem," says the Senior Instructor. "Raunian Flu has hit the Senior Raptors pretty hard and we are short staffed, you're going to take this flight." "Me, but I'm just a trainee?" "You have a full year of Gunslinger training, you can handle this," explains the Senior Instructor. "This is just a small commuter flight, thirty minutes and the flight back, you'll be fine. The passengers are all loaded and waiting for you." "Umm… okay." "Now remember, you are the last line of defense for these people, their safety is in your hands," says the Senior Instructor. "Yes, Sir," I say. I follow the walkway down to the aircraft, and then down a flight of metal stairs. The aircraft is one of the smaller ones, this shouldn't be too bad. I can do this. The flight attendant is waiting for me and folds a chair down for me to sit in. I'll be facing the passengers so I can see everyone. "Captain, the Air Raptor is onboard," says the flight attendant. "Raptor 337, your I.D. is now Air Raptor 1443," says the voice on the Com-link. My Com-link changes frequency and I can hear the Captain speaking. "Tower, this is Commuter Falcon 1443, our Air Raptor is onboard, request gate departure," says the Captain. "Falcon 1443, you are clear to depart the gate, proceed to runway four west," says the Tower Controller. I only half pay attention to the rest of what the Captain and Tower say to each other, I have other things to do. The passengers are getting settled and the flight attendants are busy helping them. The little boy I gave a Junior Raptor Badge to in the cafeteria is sitting in the front row with a tag pinned to his chest that says 'Unaccompanied Minor'--I'll have to keep a close on him. A woman in the third row opposite the little boy is taking a pill from a medicine bottle and swallowing it--I'll have to watch her, possible medical condition. A man in the emergency exit row next to the wing is giving the flight attendant a hard time. The attendant looks at me and motions me to come over. The little boy smiles at me and I give him a salute as I walk past and down the aisle. I try to get a look at the older woman's medicine bottle but she's covering the label with her hand--I probably wouldn't know what the medicine is anyway, but I could call it in. I see the problem right away when I get to the emergency exit row. "Air Raptor, he can't sit in this row, he's been drinking," says the Flight Attendant. "I'm a paying customer and I'm not drunk," says the man. "I'm not moving." "Sir, have you had any alcohol today?" I ask. "I don't have to tell you," argues the man. Oh great, another one. I don't need this on my first flight. But, calm…stay calm… don't shoot him. Let's see… the only other open seat is up front with the little boy, but I'm not putting him next to the kid. I'll have to move another passenger. Oh, duh, what am I thinking, I'll just have them switch seats. This job is so much harder than it looks. "Attendant, go ask that man in the last row to move up front," I tell the Flight Attendant. "Sir, you need to move back here." "I'm not moving, you snot nosed kid," the drunk man sneers. "Does your mother know where you're at, or maybe not, your mother doesn't give a crap about you, I was with her last night, this is your daddy’s shirt." My fingers dig into the side of the chair and I can feel my hand twitching towards my gun. He hit a very sore nerve with me. My mother died of a disease so horrible it caused a mental illness that made her give her own baby into slavery. Calm, stay calm… control… I have to do this, everyone is counting on me. "Sir, if you move to this seat back here you will be closer to the galley and will be the first to get served when the Attendants serve refreshments." The man continues to glare at me. I could just throw him off the plane and be done with it. "I'll put all your drinks on the House," I add. That does it, the man stands up. "Well why didn't you just say that to begin with," says the man. I want to shoot him so bad. The man moves to the last row and switches with the man that was sitting there. I'm about to head back up front but another man puts his hand on my arm. "So, all I have to do is act like an ass and I can get free drinks?" asks the man. "Sir, I'm the one that's going to have to pay for his drinks, and I don't get paid very much," I reply. "I don't care, I want free drinks too," says the man. I sigh, there goes my weeks pay. "Yes Sir, drinks on me." The plane is moving and I hurry back to my seat, even the Air Raptor isn't really allowed to walk around when the plane is moving. The departure is fairly quick and there's no more trouble. The little boy has his face glued to the window and watches as we lift into the sky. I keep an eye on the passengers but everyone is behaving and the flight attendants start getting a little cart ready with a breakfast snack. Everything is going good for the next ten minutes or so and then the aircraft starts to shake a little bit. I listen to the Captain calling the Tower Control on the Com-link. "Tower, this Commuter Falcon 1443, we are experiencing some trouble with our number two engine." "Understood, Falcon 1443, are you declaring an emergency?" The shaking in the aircraft is getting worse and the fasten seatbelt sign comes on. The Flight Attendants start moving the cart back towards the Galley--I'm a little worried. The little boy looks scared and I smile at him to keep him calm. "Tower, Falcon 1443, hydraulics are getting slushy, I am declaring an emergency at this time, request vector back to airport." "Falcon 1443, we are clearing the sky for you, can you make it to the airport?" The plane starts to bank and then the oxygen masks drop down. I grab the portable tank and put the mask on and sling in across my back. The little boy can't reach his and I jump up and pull on the one above him, it should extend down to him but it doesn't. I pull my portable tank off and put my mask over his face. I know it's against the rules, but like Simon always says, I don't obey rules well. I leave my oxygen tank with the little boy and move to the aisle to help the Flight Attendants. We have to take the shoes from anyone wearing sharp heels. The aircraft is shaking horribly now and I'm getting really scared, but I can't show it--stay calm, stay in control. I smile and try to comfort passengers and shove belongings up into over-head compartments. One of the Flight Attendants is talking on the loud speaker telling passengers how to brace for impact when we land. "Tower, this is Falcon 1443, we have lost engine number two, hydraulics are gone, and engine number one is losing power--we are five minutes out from the airport, don't know if we will make it." "Understood, Falcon 1443, how many souls onboard?" "Five crew, total of one-hundred thirty-three souls onboard." I listen to the Captain talking with the Tower and when they asked how many souls on board I realize how serious the situation is, we are going to crash. I keep my expression calm and help check every passenger’s seatbelt. The older woman that was taking the medication is clutching her chest and I stop to check on her. There isn't much I can do, but I try to calm her. The passengers are eerily quiet, I would think there would screaming but they all seem calm enough, given the dire situation. One man is scribbling a note and I have to tell him to put the pen away. I smell smoke. This is really bad. "Tower, this is Falcon 1443, we have lost engine number one, we are going down." "Understood, Falcon 1443, may the Ancestors be with you." I look around at all the passengers, do they understand the danger? Do I understand?... their families, their futures... robbed of everything most dear to them. I can't protect them... what do I do? I feel a horrible sense of helplessness and panic starts to rise inside me. A passenger, a man, touches my arm. The contact with another living being is enough to bring me back. I remember that, touch is important, they said that in training. "Are you okay son?" asks the man. I look at the man, he's counting on me. "Yes Sir, we will be fine, the Captain is the best." The Captain switches to the intercom loud speakers. "Flight Attendants return to your seats." I rush back up the aisle, stopping just long enough to lay my hand on passengers and assure them everything will be okay, and then buckle myself in. "Prepare to brace for landing," announces the Captain. I watch the passengers to make sure they are assuming the correct position... oh ancestors!! The little boy has unbuckled his seatbelt. "BRACE... BRACE... BRACE..." shouts the Captain over the loudspeaker. I unbuckle my seatbelt and leap forward and grab the little boy's seat on both sides and press myself against him. I don't know how long I will be able to hold on, but I'll protect him as long as I can. The aircraft bounces slightly on the ground and I hear the screeching of tires and then the aircraft is slowing down rapidly. It's hard to hold on as the aircraft breaks, the boy’s weight is pushing against me, but I have a death grip on the sides of the seat as I cradle him between myself and the seat. Then the aircraft stops and I look up. The plane looks okay, but there is smoke coming from somewhere... ninety seconds!... I have ninety seconds to evacuate the aircraft. A plan can burn to the ground in ninety seconds. I jump up and pull at the door emergency release lever and pull it in and push it to side, the door opens and drops away. The emergency slide lever is on the side and I twist at it and a yellow slide inflates and drops down. I grab the little boy first and toss him out of the aircraft. I don't have time to watch if he rolls safely away, he's out of the plane and not my concern for the moment. I must get the rest of the passengers out in ninety seconds. "MOVE IT PEOPLE!" I shout. "Stay calm, keep order, cross your arms and keep your feet together, go, go, go." The passengers move to the exits and escape the aircraft, the pilot is the last one I help out of the aircraft; the Air Raptor is always last. I cross my arms and jump out and slide down the yellow escape chute. People are sitting and lying on the ground. "We have to move away from the aircraft," I shout. "Follow me." I look around for the emergency vehicles, but they aren't here yet. The Captain comes up to me and puts his hand up to stop me. "Okay, that's enough, it's over," says the Captain. "We have to get everyone away," I reply. The Captain takes my Com-mic and speaks into it, "This is Training Flight Falcon 1443, end scenario." "This is Raptor Control, roger, end scenario, congratulations Air Raptor." "Huh?" I'm confused. Then the Senior Raptor Instructor is there, where did he come from? What's going on? "Everyone here is a Raptor Instructor," says the Senior Instructor. "You have a year of Gunslinger training and we wanted to catch you up with the Second Year Raptors. This was the standard end of year test for First Year Raptors." "I don't understand... there's smoke, and the plane was shaking, and there was a little boy," I point at the smoke coming from the aircraft. "Just a smoke pellet," says the Senior Instructor. "This is a training aircraft, it's designed to shake on demand for training purposes." "The little boy is my son," adds the Captain. "He's done this many times." The Senior Raptor Instructors takes my lapel and pins a small badge on it. "Congratulations, you are the youngest Air Raptor in the history of House Falcon," says the Senior Instructor. "But don't let it go to your head, you have a lot of training to go before you can handle a jumbo jet." I bend over and throw up on the Senior Raptor Instructor's boots. "That's okay, get it out," says the Senior Instructor. "You're not the first Air Raptor to throw up on my boots after the Crash Test Scenario." I look up at the Senior Instructor. "This was my first time flying in a plane." "What!" shouts the Captain? "We gave the test to a first time flyer?" "I was not aware of this," says the Senior Instructor. "I would never have given the test to a first time flyer." "I don't think I like flying," I mumble. "I'm going home." I stand up straight and start walking away. "You're the best young Raptor I've ever seen," says the Senior Instructor. "Reconsider this." "No, I don't want to be a Falcon, or a Raptor, or a Raven... I'm a Lone Gunslinger... and maybe a Jackdaw, I'm leaving."