Keltie Proves a Chauvinistic Pig that Women Rock
The airlocks on the Sun Deck opened, and the corsairs dipped out into space.
In the lighted cockpit of Keltie’s ship, all the buttons glowed blood red as shadows fell over them.
Keltie placed one hand on the control joystick covered in blue buttons and another on a small panel with a few buttons and a radar screen. She trained her gaze ahead, all her years of flight training transforming her instantly.
In a rearview camera on the corsair’s tail, she saw the luxury cruiser inch further and further away.
Keltie leaned down as the weightlessness began. She wore a reddish-orange astronaut suit that was slimmed down to conform to her body, and a helmet with a polycarbonate, dome-like face. She hated the reddish-orange color. Even though it was supposed to help make you easier to spot during a rescue mission, she always pushed the company to provide options. The color made her feel like a bloated orange star. Gray or blue would have been much better.
Charsworth and Alistair wore suits, too. In her camera view of the ship’s salon, the rest of the passengers also wore spacesuits, strapped into seat belts. They looked out the long, rectangular windows on the corsair’s side in wonder.
“We’re in space,” Keltie said into her communicator headset.
The six other corsair pilots confirmed.
“You’re all clear,” Emina said from the bridge. “You can activate your power now. Maintain a good distance apart. Proceed with your gravity rings.”
Keltie pressed a yellow button marked with the image of a spaceship with a ring around it.
The ship hummed as a mechanical sound activated behind them, around the middle of the ship. Then, a whirring sound and a loud motor.
The golden ring was working, rotating around the ship’s front, middle and rear to create centrifugal force. Flights without gravity were so… two thousand years ago.
Gravity returned quickly. She landed in her chair and the seat belt automatically tightened around her.
“Hold on,” Keltie said, grinning.
She pulled up on the joystick and pressed the acceleration button. Then she tilted the stick, throwing the corsair into a roll. Kepler spun in front of them.
“Whoa!” Charsworth said.
Keltie pulled out of the roll and accelerated even more. The force pushed her back into the seat like an invisible wind. Kepler passed beneath them in a bluish-brown blur.
Charsworth held onto the seat handles, smiling the whole time.
Alistair looked like he was going to be sick.
Keltie rolled again, ending upright in Kepler’s orbit.
She backed off the accelerator and the corsair slowed; the engine died down to a gentle purr.
“You really know how to pilot this thing,” Charsworth said. “That was one hell of a roll.”
Keltie smirked. “I don’t fly too much like a girl, do I?”
“Talk to me after re-entry,” Charsworth said.
“Talk to me after I vomit all over the place,” Alistair said. He opened his helmet and popped a pill.
Keltie’s communicator beeped. “Geez, Keltie—would you mind slowing down?”
It was Kamala.
“Would you mind keeping up?” Keltie asked. “We’ve got a planet to show.”
***
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