Chapter Text
“Are you sure you want to do this, Strive?” Sung asked.
“Yes.” Strive nodded. His posture was tense, but his eyes shone with determination. “I’m sorry for the trouble but…I really need to know.” His ship sat behind him, balanced impossibly on its small keel, hovering there. Strive glanced back at it and bit his lip, then closed his eyes to take a deep breath.
“If you want us to give it a try-” Sung jabbed his thumb into his chest, “-We’re happy to help! But I doubt any of us will be able to fly it as well as you.” Strive managed a small smile and a nod.
“Thanks…” He wanted to believe Sung, but that nagging doubt was still hurting him. That question hovering in the back of his mind.
Did this ship really belong to Strive, or would it be better with someone else?
This is how the six of them ended up on a small uninhabited planet that the brigade often used for flight training. It was a dry desert climate, and the small mountains and rock formations cropping up here and there made for good obstacles. It was the perfect place to test out a new ship, or for a ship to test out a new pilot, perhaps.
“I’ll go first!” Sung announced. “I have to say I’m curious about how it works, myself!”
“Ok!” Strive motioned to the rest of them. “Um, can you guys wait out here, then?”
“Sure.” Phobos crossed his arms. “We’ll be watching from…a safe distance.”
“No need to worry!” Sung laughed. “I’m not planning to go full throttle. At worst, I’ll probably make it skitter into the ground.”
The rest of the group exchanged a look, then turned to start hurrying away from the ship. Strive’s eyebrows creased together in concern as he opened the door.
“It…shouldn’t be that bad?” Sung shrugged.
“I don’t know why they’re so concerned.” He beamed and clapped his hands together. “I’ll be a model student. Come now, show me the ropes!”
000
“Hm,” Sung peered down at the console. “What language is that?”
“It’s not a language,” Strive answered. “It’s just kind of…intuitive?” He pointed down at one of the glowing symbols on its surface. “This is us on the map.”
“I see…” Sung stared down at it. “Well, I’ll take your word for it.”
Strive glanced out the window and spotted the others. It seemed they had decided to back up a bit more, and were now watching from atop a hill. Meouch turned to Phobos and said something that earned him a sharp nudge in the arm.
“So-” Sung tapped experimentally at the display. “How does it work? Does it need to be turned on…?” Strive shook his head.
“Those are just some readings. Um, you use these.” He pointed at the two towers in the center. “Place your hands on them.”
“Ah, ok!” Sung planted both his hands on the nodes, and Strive felt the ship shudder, just faintly. Sung continued talking as if he hadn’t. “Now what?”
“Well, now you just…” Strive motioned to the landscape in front of them. “-go.”
“Yes but…” Sung glanced around. “Is there a thrust? Or some kind of startup sequence?”
“Nnno?” Strive motions to the columns again. “You just hold your hands up to these, and tell it to go.”
“Oh! Very well then!” Sung straightened and cleared his throat. “Um, go!”
The next second Strive found himself tossed to the back of the ship as it surged forward, then straight up, then careened in a truly erratic fashion across the planet’s sky as Sung shouted in alarm.
“No, no! Slow! Slow down! Stop! Stop!!”
The ship did stop, eventually, when it did a sick loop-de-loop before slamming straight into the ground. Strive groaned as he sat up, rubbing his head.
“Sung?” He called out. Sung was slumped down on one knee, hands still gripping the control points.
“Strive,” he answered, “door, please.”
“Huh?”
Sung’s voice was uncharacteristically high and strained as he repeated himself. “Make the door open.”
“O-Oh um-” Strive glanced over at the wall, and the panel slid open. Sung immediately got up and stumbled out.
“Yo!” Meouch called out as the group ran over to the crashed ship. They found Sung on his hands and knees, getting reacquainted with his lunch, while Strive stood awkwardly nearby.
Havve tilted his head to the side and made a beeping noise. Sung weakly waved a hand at him in response. Since it seemed like Sung was in no shape for translating, Havve pulled up a speech device on his arm to type out a message, which he showed to Strive.
No good?
“Well uh…” Strive shot a concerned look over at Sung. “We did…fly?”
“Sorry about your ship.” Meouch gave it a light kick. Strive shot him a confused look.
“Why?”
Meouch cocked an eyebrow at him in response. “It’s trashed, ain’t it?”
Strive glanced back at his ship. “It looks ok?” He offered. “Hang on.” He disappeared back inside the door. A second later the ship floated up out of the rut it had made to sit perfectly straight once more. Sung stumbled back to his feet to peer up at it with a newfound respect, and perhaps fear.
“Well then,” he propped his hands on his hips. “Anyone else want to try?”