"Planet I'm from, couldn't see a one of 'em, pollution's so thick. Sometimes I think I entered flight school just to see what the hell everyone was talking about." - WASH

-

Wash pushed aside the glass of the mirror and withdrew his shaving foam, kicking his roommate's cot with the heel of one boot. "Come on! I ain't gettin' docked my time just because I'm bunked with a lazy fay-fay duh pee-yen."

The other man rolled over, covering his head with his pillow. Wash sighed and applied the foam to his cheeks, deftly cutting away the whiskers that had grown in the night. He grinned brightly at himself, the mustache still hanging hairily on his upper lip. "Dashing, dashing, if I do say so myself."

He fitted the oxygen mask over the lower half of his face, pulling on his goggles and striding out of his bunk. Better to arrive without his roommate than to arrive late. The smog was terrible in the morning, usually thinning out around noon and thickening once more for nightfall.

Wash straightened his flight school tunic and did his best to look presentable. He could clown with the best of them; often did. But there was a time and a place for that. Examinations, lectures, those were prime for cutting up. But an actual test flight? Now that was special. That deserved respect.

He approached the launch pad confidently, head held high, smiling behind his mask. The instructor was standing in front of the group, tapping his clipboard against his thigh. As Wash approached, the instructor looked at his watch and said, "Hoban Washburn. You are very nearly late."

"Sorry, sir. I'll try harder next time. I know 'very nearly' does not count in this course."

'Well,' Wash thought. 'So much for respect.'

One by one, the cadets began climbing into the pilot seat of the small, rickety spacecraft. They had been working towards this for months... it was hard to believe the moment was finally here. They flew a grand total of a hundred feet up, circled the testing grounds and came back to land safely on the platf