**
Why am I here?
I was meant to know how.
My negligence should have killed me.
Why am I here?
He trusted in my ability.
We’re only gonna die for our arrogance.
*I’m* only gonna die for my arrogance.
Why am I still here?
.
.
.
“Son, are you ready?” Dad says.
“Yeah, I guess?” I say.
“Okay,” he says, attempting to set all of the knobs and dials in their correct positions.
I sigh deeply and plop into the driver's seat of Pathfinder. I don’t know if I’m really ready to fly it, despite what I told Dad. But I know I must learn fast, and to do that I must learn by doing. Else I’ll be stuck on this trash planet until I die. I’m a little scared, but Dad is by my side, so he can help me if anything goes wrong.
“Alright, check systems,” Dad says.
I look at the displays and realize that I don’t know what half of them do. But I do know the important ones, like the engine speed, temperature, and speed dials.
“Err… systems nominal?” I say wearily.
“Okay,” he replies. “Hit the defroster.”
I eye all of the switches for a moment, deciding which one looks like the defrost switch. I decide to flick a faded blue switch toward the middle of the dashboard. I hover over it momentarily and look at Dad, waiting for approval. He peeks over and nods subtly, then quickly goes back to doing his pre-flight checks. For a minute, it is silent except for the flicking of some switches.
“Well, what are you waiting for?” he asks.
It takes a moment for me to realize that he meant I should start the engines. First, I turn off the defroster, then I double-check that the engines are set to VTOL. I push the throttles up.
The engines slowly ramp up and the craft begins to shudder. A subtle creaking is heard as the craft’s hull takes on the weight of itself.
“Keep her steady, now,” Dad says.
I think about telling him that I’m trying, but I keep it to myself; I need to focus, because I haven’t studied enough to be talking while I’m driving.
I hear the scraping of the skids on the concrete ground while they tilt backward as the ship lifts up. With us now in the air, I nudge the tilt levers for the engines, easing the craft forward. Dials {light strips?} move, and the ground moves away from us. My heart races as I try not to drive the ship into the ground. I move the tilt levers again, and the ship complies, although I hear some groaning within the vessel. The ship continues to climb.
“Take a slight left here, to heading 240,” Dad says.
I turn the yoke to the left, and the ship slowly changes direction. More creaking comes from behind me. I attempt to take the ship back to center.
“Bring her to center,” Dad says.
The ship will not roll back; in fact, the ship begins listing to the left.
“*Bring her to center,*” Dad reiterates.
“I’m trying,” I huff as I turn the yoke all the way to the right.
The ship is now rolled 30 degrees to the left.
“Start taking emergency procedures,” Dad says.
Except I don’t know what the emergency procedures are. I stand and hold myself with the left side of the dashboard, pressing many buttons in the process.
“What are you doing?” Dad asks in a crazed voice.
“Getting out?”
“Get the emergency pod ready first!” Dad yells over the many alarms that are now going off.
“Why don’t you?” I ask.
“You’re supposed to know that! I don’t have that button over here anyway!”
“Get over here then!”
“I can’t! I’ll break my ankle!”
There are a multitude of objects rolling around on the floor.
“Who cares! Come on now, a broken ankle is better than being dead!”
Dad attempts to make his way over here, but on his first step, he slips and falls into the captain’s (my) chair.
I pull him up from the floor that is now no more horizontal than it is vertical. The craft jolts up, sending both of us into the air. Dad, in trying to grab something, falls onto the center console, with the various switches poking his back.
“Dammit!”
I realize at this point that there is no way that we are going to salvage this. The ground is approaching ever fast, so I grab the rails that are behind the captain’s chair and yank myself up, rock-climbing style. As we face toward the ground more and more, I feel lighter and lighter, and so I am able to propel myself further and easier. I float through the landing pod door and the door closes. I then strap myse–
**