by M. Alan Marr
“Stand easy,” the lead instructor orders. The group relaxes their stance, but only just.
The center of the bay that usually houses the training ship is empty. With all eyes on the instructor, she looks to the ceiling and orders, “Proceed.”
The wedges in the center of the bay floor open, and a berth rises containing a new and larger training ship. This ship looks like it is built for keeps. It has two engines, larger cannons, and looks like it can actually hold its own in combat.
“Behold, Candidates, your advanced flight trainer. This is a dual-engine trans-atmospheric ship, capable of high-speed flight within a planetary system.”
The level of excitement within the pilots ranks is evident. Even Chaz is excited to fly this ship again, as it is the same type of trainer he wowed the Admiralty in on his first visit to Trieste.
The lead instructor continues. “We will utilize the advanced trainers to teach orbital launch and recovery, planetary system navigation, and variable gravity operations; meaning flights in and out of the atmosphere, as well as heavy gravity landings. This is also the ship in which you will partake in the formal gunnery course. It has two high energy particle cannons; each cannon is twice as powerful than the one you fired in the basic trainer, giving you four times the firepower. This ship is considered live combat-capable; in other words, if fighters are unavailable, these ships can fill the gap. It is in this ship you will begin the transition to live flights.”
A detailed dissertation and preflight is conducted with the entire group. New parts are explained, like radiation shields, solar collection grids, and reentry skin.
The instructor becomes a little uncomfortable. “On Flight Commander Dev’s authority, we will spend this morning in flight simulation to acquaint you with the basic operation of the advanced trainer, and then”—she pauses—“proceed to the astroport and begin live flight training.”
Upon hearing live flight training there is a mix of excitement and nervousness.
“Your pads have been loaded with preflight data. Your instructors will be along in thirty minutes. I suggest you take those thirty minutes to familiarize yourselves with the advanced trainers in your individual simulation bays. Carry on.”
They watch the lead instructor leave the sim.
“I don’t think she’s happy about this,” Matt says.
“Guys,” Chaz interjects, “I’ve flown this model. Piece of cake. If we’re going live, they’re not going to let us do anything crazy over populated land.”
“Why the change in pace?” Steve wonders.
“Dev wants us to get as much exposure to the real thing as possible. He knows what he’s doing.”
“I get the distinct impression he stepped on the Lead’s toes,” Jen comments.
“Dev’s a Commander,” Chaz says. “She’s a Lieutenant. It’s just business.”
“Permission to carry on, sir,” Steve says.
“Go ahead. Thirty minutes to learn the preflight and orient yourselves with the cockpits. The controls are going to be more sensitive, but it will feel better than the basic trainer. Go.”
***
The midday meal is not enjoyable for anyone. Steve, Harrison, Jen, and Matt are frantically trying to scarf down some food while studying their pads. When the Candidates were dismissed at the zenith, they were among the first ones to enter the officers mess. They sat together at a smaller round table.
Other flight candidates and officers meander in as usual. One of the familiar Midshipmen, Treg, approaches with his group. “Ahoy there, Oasis.”
Steve looks up from his pad. “Treg.”
“What’s this? You all are studying at a ferocious pace.”
“We’re going live today.”
“Live? Live flight?”
“Yes, sir.”
Barnes looks at his comrades, then at Steve’s pad. “You’ve entered Advanced already?”
“Yeah. We’re kind of freaking out a little.”
“Freaking… out?”
“Insanely nervous, Treg.”
“Right. Well, we won’t distract you. Best of luck to you, sirs, ma’am.”
“Thanks, Treg.”
PORT ADMIRALTY
SOUTHEAST TRAINING TARMAC
A group of five advanced TransAt trainers are parked on the tarmac facing the ocean. Support crews standing ready to assist salute each Flight Mid as they approach their assigned ships. It’s nice for someone to be saluting them for a change. Chaz returns the salute of his aircraft crew in the manner of the US Navy.
The previous non-military comportment of the Oasis candidates is improving greatly, though they are still a bit too familiar and casual with their commanding officers and flight instructors. But as the instructors have gotten to know the candidates better, they realize the candidates are in a class by themselves, bringing aeronautical experience to the table like no one else on Trieste has to offer. As such, the Oasis pilots have gained the respect of both their peers and instructors.
Four armed instructors arrive and take positions facing the nose of each ship, beginning at the number two ship, Steve’s. Chaz wonders where his instructor is. Not missing a beat, the students smartly approach their instructors, salute, and hand them their training dockets. Each instructor reads the docket and then salutes in return. Dev arrives in a separate vehicle, wearing his flight suit, and he is also armed, but with two weapons, one on each side of his belt. All officers, candidates, and enlisted personnel present stand at attention.
Dev purposely walks to a center position. As Dev turns to face the group, everyone salutes. Dev returns the courtesy and addresses the group. “Commander Chaz, Oasis Flight Midshipmen, today we fly.”
The pilots have trouble containing their excitement at the thought of flying the actual machines behind them. No simulation this time.
Dev continues. “Commander Chaz.”
Chaz marches forward and turns smartly to join Dev’s side. Dev detaches his second weapons holster and hands it to Chaz. “As you can see, your instructors are all armed. This is standard practice. Commander Chaz is familiar with our weapons, but you are not. In atmospheric combat, Yeti have a history of disabling our ships and following them down. You will not survive hand-to-hand combat with a Yeti. But you haven’t received sidearm weapons training yet. Each ship has two weapons stored in external compartments. If you encounter a Yeti and are forced down, access the weapons and protect yourself. Normally, sidearm training would be done before live flight exercises, however, as you know, our syllabus is somewhat fluid right now. We will get you slated for training with the armorer as soon as possible. Candidates, Instructors, man your ships.”
As the group goes to work, Chaz leans in toward Dev.
“My instructor didn’t show up.”
“I’m your instructor.”
“What about that appearance of favoritism thing?”
Dev winks. “Privilege of rank.”
For Chaz, sitting in the real machine is quite different. The cockpit is the same as the one in the simulator; the controls are the same, the sounds are even the same. But this is the real deal, and it is completely different. Every pilot knows this.
Chaz and Dev sit in the cockpit together in Trainer 01.
“What is it you guys say?” Dev asks while buckling in. “About going to something?”
“Going to the show,” Chaz replies.
“That’s it. You guys are going to the show today.”
“This is awesome.” Chaz smiles. “We’re really going to do this.”
“Hang on, I have to act official,” Dev says, keying the comm line. “This is Trainer Lead Dev. Initiate engine start and report ready.”
Dev motions for Chaz to do his thing. Without a word, Chaz begins the preflight of the cockpit, closes the canopies, and initiates startup sequence of both engines.
All along the row of trainers the engines start winding up in jet-like fashion, until the high notes surge in a downward sounding crescendo sounding
a bit like the inertial starters of old World War II aircraft. The main engines come fully to life and stabilize at idle power.
Chaz looks over all systems and verifies his board is green. “Trainer One, Lieutenant Commander Chaz, ready.”
Steve keys his comm line. “Trainer Two, Flight Midshipman Steve, ready.”
Harrison finishes and keys his comm line. “Trainer Three, Flight Midshipman Harrison, ready.”
Dev and Chaz hear a very seductive voice over the radio. “Trainer Four, Flight Midshipman Jen is reeeady.”
“Trainer Five, Flight Midshipman Mattsy is so ready.”
Dev shakes his head and looks at Chaz. “Keep it professional, Midshipmen, or you can go back to simulation.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Sorry, sir.”
Chaz mouths the words ‘I’ll talk to them.’
Dev nods and continues on with the briefing. “Oasis Trainers, Training Lead Dev, standby. We’re going to lift off and head out, ahead slow, over the water.” Dev keys the radio. “Port Control, Oasis Trainer Lead, flight of five, trans-orbital training flight plan 42697. Request oceanic departure.”
“Oasis Trainer Lead, Port Control. Flight of five oceanic clearance granted. Northern departure route; equatorial climb. Trans-orbit operations authorized. You are cleared for launch.”
Dev keys the inter-ship switch. “All right, guys.”
“And girl,” Jen says.
“Just like you did in the sim. Only this time, it’s the real thing. Just fly the airplane. Watch your crewmen’s signals, and don’t run into each other. Commander Chaz has the lead.” Dev looks at Chaz and nods. “Lift off.”
Chaz sees his ground crew salute and point ahead to their left, indicating the conclusion of ground support. Chaz takes the controls and rolls the throttle grips easy and lifts the ship off the skids and gently rises above the landing pad. He adds a little throttle and eases the ship out over the water.
One by one the line of ships begin to lift off. Most are stable, but still a little shaky side on the vertical clearance, lifting up perhaps a little higher than normal to ensure ground clearance. The five ships are airborne, but not in solid formation, but will come in time.
Each pilot feels varying degrees of wind resistance and outside environmental factors. This is not a simulator.
Dev looks over his right shoulder and sees the ships are all pretty much in a line. He keys the intercom. “Trainer Lead Dev to all ships. Once clear of Port Admiralty we are going to take up a standard oceanic departure course and then head north to the equatorial divide then bank right, taking up course zero nine zero for an easy climb to orbit.”
He banks his ship gently left and adds a tiny bit of power to air taxi down the center line of the taxiway between rows of ships. The rest of the trainers follow in a very slow and ungainly progression. The instructors are watching everything. Somewhat haphazardly, the trainers make their way out over the water.
Dev checks the detection grid and sees four Oasis targets behind him. “All right, Chaz, lead ship sets the pace. Easy climb, straight ahead over the ocean.”
“Here we go.” Chaz advances throttles, climbs and accelerates, taking up a course over the water. “Altitude?” Chaz asks.
“Climb to standard ten thousand feet before turning toward the equator.”
The line of ships follow Chaz and climb before making the turn north toward the equator. The navigation display shows the loose formation on course. A few minutes later the computer signals the approach of the next turning point. Chaz completes the easterly turn and, on Dev’s orders, climbs the ship on speed until the atmosphere becomes thin and dark, and as if penetrating a thin fog layer, they soar above it . . . and there it is . . . zero gravity. They are in orbit. All of the previously green engine atmospheric indications switch to blue, meaning they are in space.
“Mmmm.” Chaz says, “After the heavier gravity down there, the zero-g feels kind of good.”
One by one the advanced trainers enter orbit. The individual instructors are advising their candidates about reducing power slightly. Chaz knows to powers back on the throttles to maintain orbital speed, since without the atmospheric friction any ship still at climb power would continue to accelerate. Harrison’s ship nudges ahead of the pack slightly, prompting the instructor in Jen’s ship to make comment.
“Watch your spacing Trainer Three.”
“Sorry, sir,” Harrison says. His own instructor is now giving him additional instructions to to maintain formation.
“Trainer Lead Dev to all ships, increase lateral spacing.”
All of the pilots look at Trieste with amazement. No more computer-generated grid lines, no simulator idiosyncrasies. This is real life. Chaz is doing the same thing, causing Dev (and the instructors) to smile. They know seeing this view for the first time is an amazing, once-in-a-lifetime experience.
As the ships soar above Trieste, Dev finally issues orders.
“Prepare for atmospheric reentry. I realize we are jumping ahead in the syllabus, but I want you all to experience reentry from the pilot perspective. Having your head filled with figures and procedures will diminish the experience. I want you to get the feel of this. Although you’re going to lock in your secondary landing sites for the purposes of the maneuver, we won’t be landing. We’re going to reenter the atmosphere, establish a descent profile, stabilize, reconfigure, then climb back up and do it again.”
Chaz locks in their de-orbit course toward their secondary landing zone. He nods at Dev, who issues the order. “Trainer Lead Dev, report ready for reentry.”
In each ship, the candidates prepares for the maneuver. Jen has a momentary issue locking in the course to the landing site, but quickly corrects her mistake and is the last to report ready.
“Trainer One, here we go.”
Chaz noses the ship slightly downward toward the night side of the planet and closes the distance between them and the atmosphere. The uppermost tendrils of Trieste’s atmosphere become visible as they lick at the bottom of the ships. Chaz gives a quick couple of bursts from the reversers, and gravity grabs the ship and starts her down. The other trainers easily see his vapor trail and follow. In a matter of seconds, five reentry trails are descending over Trieste’s Eastern Inhabitance at dusk, a large continent across the vast ocean from where they started their flight. The reentry turbulence is dealt with by the pilots just as any turbulence would be. Their instructors are impressed with how steady their students are, particularly having never done this before.
One by one the trainees are cued when to open their engine vents and establish a stable powered atmospheric descent. A large target is plotted on Chaz’s navigation and detection grid.
Dev keys the intercom. “Eyes out, guys. We have commercial traffic ahead along our course. We’ll be flying into night here pretty soon. Offset one mile starboard, single file follow. Instructors, transmit standard passing protocol.”
The course change is made. The instructors transmit the passing protocol, to let the students concentrate on the actual flying. One by one, the trainers fall into a single sequential line and descend past a large cargo transporter. Although a mile away, and slow in comparison, the enormity of the commercial vessel makes it seem right next door to them.
“Jesus, that thing is bigger than four A-380s,” Steve says.
“Talk about a heavy jet,” Harrison says, looking at the giant as he passes.
Dev knows they are impressed. “That is a cargo galleon.” He checks the readout. “Just arrived from one of our agro worlds on Eridanus loaded with produce.”
The trainer’s engine displays indicate engine temps are all nominal and the ship can easily climb back into orbit. But Dev has Chaz descend down to ten thousand feet.
“Trainer Lead Dev to all Oasis ships. Resume standard formation. Rig for orbital ops. Full throttle launch on my mark. Report ready.”
One by one they are all ready.
“Countdown in three, two, one.
Launch.”
Each pilot jams their throttles forward, and their engines fire, sending their ships rocketing upward in an eighty-degree climb. This time, they leave the atmosphere and take up an accelerated orbital course much higher than last time.
“Orbit level ten,” Dev orders.
The ships continue upward along a steady trajectory until they level out at the tenth orbital, a high orbit restricted to military traffic. Established in orbit, Trieste passes swiftly below. Night and day happens every twenty minutes at this speed.
“Trainer Lead Dev to Instructor Pilots. Breakout for independent instruction. At least five TransAt circuits; quarter orbit stagger.”
“What’s that about?” Chaz asks discreetly.
“They don’t need to follow us around all day.”
Cleared to maneuver, the instructors and their pilot trainees conduct their prescribed operations. As one ship disappears down into the atmosphere, approximately one-quarter orbit later, the next ship goes in. Within twenty minutes all ships are operating independently.
***
Over the next three weeks, the extra-orbital flights are routine, despite various simulated systems failures and unanticipated inconveniences to test the readiness of the pilots. Many of the failures would normally be conducted in the safety of the simulation bay, but given the urgency of accruing actual flight experience, the instructors have had fun shutting power to various systems, making the consequences a little more real as well.
Several days of sidearm training is completed by the candidates, including Chaz. They are all now fully authorized to carry, and if necessary, use their sidearms.
In just three weeks’ time, the Oasis Flight Candidates are flying their instructors out to Dué, Triton, Penthar, and back without getting lost. To their own surprise, departing Trieste to fly to another planet now seems as routine as flying to LAX.
Today, they nervously orbit the gas giant, Triton on approach to Bellerophon, a Triton moon where the Crown’s military Citadel is located. Bellerophon’s gravity is heavier than that on Trieste, and more than two and a half times heavier than Earth’s. Preparation is key. Chaz has been there; the others have not. No briefing can substitute for the real thing. All the Oasis candidates are wearing oxygen breather masks as they approach Bellerophon’s atmosphere. All seems normal until the crushing gravity hits them suddenly, and severely. The instructors are backing up the candidates on the flight controls to prevent the ships from suddenly diving.