by M. Alan Marr
Dev surveys the faces in the room. “Very well. Leftenant Steve has command.”
Steve is surprised at this. “Sir?”
“Commander Chaz and I will meet you there.”
“Yes sir.”
“Pilots, you’re required to carry your sidearms. Preflight, and head up to Bellerophon and report to the training base Commander. And remember, if any Yeti show up, you are to hightail it out of there and head to the nearest Crown station. Do not engage. Dismissed.”
***
The Oasis flight of four training ships is en route to Bellerophon. Steve flies alone.
Harrison flies with Annette. Jen’s got Milo. Matt has Franz.
Jen eases her ship up to see Harrison’s canopy. “Hey, Annette, keep your hands where we can see them.”
“Yeah, Harr, no million-mile-high club,” Steve says with a smile.
“I’m shocked you would think we would do that.”
It was a good-natured joke, received well by all.
“What in gay hell are we in for?” Matt says to Franz, who is sitting in the front right seat of the trainer. “Have you been there?”
“Yes, sir,” Franz says. “For about an hour during a training mission. It was awful. The gravity is so heavy.”
“Tell me about it.”
“Do you know where we’re going?” Annette asks Harrison, then smiles. “Sir?”
“Some training base on the other side of Bellerophon. All I know, is we’re to report to the commanding officer after we land.”
All ships hear Steve’s voice over the radio. “Bellerophon Control, Oasis flight of four, request approach clearance.”
Bellerophon Control clears the flight of four training ships to enter the airspace. One by one, they enter the dark atmosphere and immediately feel the crushing strain of the heavy gravity. Everyone puts on their O2 masks.
“Oasis flight of four, Bellerophon Control, transmitting approach course to Western Training Base. Assume equatorial descent profile.”
Steve strains to respond against the gravity. “Oasis lead . . . copy . . . equatorial . . . descent.” He keys the ship-to-ship intercom and addresses his team. “Okay, guys . . . long way . . . around . . . Western descent. Be . . . careful.”
As the ships descend lower into the atmosphere, the gravity seems to get heavier and heavier.
Harrison sees Annette is straining for breath. “You . . . all right?”
Annette refuses to complain. She manages a smile. “Fa-abulous.”
The engine displays in Steve’s trainer indicates trouble. His number two engine readings go into the red, and the engine starts trailing fire.
Harrison sees the flash. “Steve?”
“Hey . . . ” Steve says, seeing the fire alert. “Hey . . . I’ve got . . . trouble here.”
“You’re . . . on fire,” Harrison reports.
“What?” Jen asks, and then looks up and sees the plume of fire. “Sh-shit.”
Steve brings the number two throttle to idle. The fire in Steve’s starboard engine sputters and goes out.
“How’s . . . it look?” Steve says, breathing hard and cross-controlling to keep his ship in the right altitude. The others power way back so they don’t leave Steve behind.
“Fire looks . . . out, Steve.”
Matt’s ship, last in the formation, registers a proximity alert on his detection grid. “I’ve got inbound . . . Yeti!”
Harrison looks at his grid. “I have them . . . six . . . targets.”
“Four . . . against . . . six,” Jen says, her own breathing strained.
“Three,” Harrison says. “Steve . . . can’t fight . . . on one engine!”
An urgent communique comes in over the speakers. “Oasis flight of four, you are ordered to land. Land immediately. Land immediately. Inbound Brigands. Land immediately. Land immediately. Confirm.”
“Oasis Lead,” Steve says. “Understood.”
Harrison speaks up. “Steve?”
Steve considers for a moment turning to face the approaching Brigands, but his orders are clear. He’s also one engine down, and is responsible for the safety of his teammates. His breathing steadies. “Land,” Steve orders. “Before they . . . see us.” He takes a deep breath and dives toward the surface. His ship begins to suffer more problems. “I’m losing life support.”
“Steve, get on the ground!” Jen yells in one breath.
Steve looks at his status screen and sees he has about five minutes of oxygen left.
“Can you . . . make it . . . to the base?” Matt asks.
Steve looks at their course and the location of the base on the opposite hemisphere, as well as the inbound Yeti targets. “No way . . . it’s now . . . or never.”
Harrison keys his mic. “I say . . . we all land. Maybe Annette can . . . fix your busted ship.”
“Yeah . . . let’s land,” Jen says as she noses her fighter over toward the surface.
Matt looks at his detection grid. “Those Brigands are closing!”
The pilots each wrestle their ships against the pull of the moon’s gravity. Their breathing is labored and heavy. The engine systems of their ships strain, and the pilots have to work very hard to maintain control. Inside Steve’s cockpit, the systems are all in various states of distress. Alarms are sounding. His navigation plotter fails, and he’s down to basic instrumentation.
“Just lost . . . navigation,” Steve says, struggling. “Need . . . some help here.”
Harrison muscles his ship up slightly to fly cover. “Got you . . . covered, Boss. Jen . . . find a place . . . to land. Matt . . . keep track . . . of the Yeti.”
Jen fights the heavy gravity and quickly programs her detection grid. A course appears to a suitable landing site. “Got one.” She adds power and moves ahead of the group to lead them down. “Follow me.”
Matt tracks the Yeti on his detection grid. Six targets turning toward them. “I think . . . they see us!” Matt labors to say. “They’re . . . turning… to intercept.”
Jen keys her mic. “Oasis . . . flight of four . . . Request immediate . . . assistance.”
“Oasis flight, you are ordered to land. Land immediately, respond.”
“Control . . . Oasis . . . flight . . . come in.”
“Oasis flight, respond! Respond!”
Matt stays in formation with Jen, while simultaneously keeping an eye on the detection grid and on Harrison’s nearby formation with Steve’s damaged ship. Franz turns and sees six shiny targets. The hairs bristle on his neck when he sees a flash. “They’re firing!”
A blast of light illuminates the entire sky, wreaking havoc on all ships. Navigation and electrical systems begin malfunctioning and going dark. Communications fail completely in all four ships. It is night, they are off course, far from base, under enemy attack, and they are going down blind.
END OF BOOK II
The Oasis adventure continues in Book III of the Stars Fell series:
Stars Fell on Seattle
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
The author would like to acknowledge the following people, media, and companies that have made this story part of the real world.
Songs:
Andy Grammer
“Keep Your Head Up”
Hot Chelle Rae
“Downtown Girl”
Kirsty MacColl
“In These Shoes?”
Bruno Mars
“Sunday Morning”
Toto
“Africa”
Harry Connick, Jr.
“Stars Fell on Alabama”
Cascada
“Evacuate the Dance Floor”
Eddie und Freunde
Oktoberfest
“Clarinet Polka”
American Express, with whom I have a long history and appreciation.
Boeing Aircraft Company, and their excellent aircraft I command every time I go to work. If it’s not Boeing, I most definitely won’t be going.
Apple, whose electronics are
part of my daily existence and I could not do without.
Starbucks Coffee, which is an essential part of existence.
To the W Hotels Group and The Four Seasons hotels for their excellent properties throughout the world.
To De Havilland Aircraft, Citation Aircraft, and Airbus Industries, for their contribution to this story.
To Porsche Motorcars for their exceptional vehicles, and one of the finest automobiles I have ever owned.
To Land Rover, and Ford Motor Companies for their contribution to the story.
To Zeeks Pizza and El Gaucho restaurants in Seattle. Fabulous.
To Project Runway and Tim Gunn. Just like the character Steve, I got hooked.
To the universes of Star Wars, and Star Trek, both of which made an impression.
To MSNBC and Fox News Corp for their left yin and right yang, respectively.
To Dr. Rachel Maddow for her wit, detail, complexity of reporting, and her incredible brain.
To Noey DiBiase for her amazing cover art.
To my copy editor, Melissa Gray, for her amazing job correcting my many, many mistakes.
And to my friends and test readers for their willingness to pore through the early drafts and countless changes. Their candid opinions, support, and encouragement were stellar.
Also, to even my most right-wing friends, for keeping good spirits even as they read the parts in this book that made their blood boil.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
M. Alan Marr is a senior Boeing 737 Captain for a major international US Airline.
Captain Marr’s aviation career spans 28 years and over 21,000 hours of flight time, including both narrow-body and heavy jet transports, helicopters, gliders, and general aviation aircraft. He is Captain qualified in the following aircraft: Boeing 737-200, 737-300, 737-500, 737-700, 737-800, Boeing MD-11, Boeing MD-11F, ATR-42, ATR-72, and EMB-120 RT Brasilia.
As a flight instructor, M. Alan instructed primary students in the Cessna-152, Cessna-172, Cessna-172RG, Cessna-182, Cessna-P210. He’s flown multi engine Cessna models 310, 402, and 421. He has experience in the Aerospatiale Tobago, Piper Sundowner, Beechcraft King Air A-90 and F-90, Piper Cheyenne I and II, and the British Aerospace BAE J-31 Jetstream.
M. Alan also received training in helicopters, flying the Robinson R-22 and Hughes TH-55 Osage in the 1990s.
Captain Marr’s travels have taken him all over the world. He has personally flown aircraft into Japan, China, South Korea, the Philippines, Taiwan, Singapore, Malaysia, Argentina, South Africa, Senegal, the UAE, the United Kingdom, Germany, Belgium, Holland, Guam, Australia, Thailand, Indonesia, and the Dominican Republic. In addition, his leisure travels have taken him to Mexico, France, Italy, Spain, Germany, the UK, Switzerland, Canada, Portugal, Hawaii, Australia, New Zealand, Japan, Argentina, Bermuda, and numerous islands in the Caribbean.
Captain Marr has two French Chartreuse cats, Kaz and Vivi. It breaks his heart every time he has to leave them. He enjoys travel by both air and sea. He is a self-described foodie, loves to cook, ski, write, and most of all, fly.
M. Alan Marr has degrees in Professional Aeronautics from Embry-Riddle Aeronautical University in Daytona Beach, Florida. He has served two committee posts for his airline’s pilot union as Vice Chairman of Security, and later Chairman of Communications, and has been based in California, Arizona, Illinois, Maryland, and Nevada.
The inspiration for the Stars Fell series of books came while flying over Alabama one late summer evening, when, from his flight deck windscreen, he watched a meteorite streak across the night sky.
Stars Fell on Trieste
Book 2 of the Stars Fell Series
Copyright © 2017
All Rights Reserved
Look for Book III of the Stars Fell series:
Stars Fell on Seattle
Landing soon
Published by Vector 270, LLC
[email protected]