by Ryk Brown
Nathan looked over the training schedule on the data pad as the admiral walked away. “Pretty aggressive schedule.”
“Don’t blame me,” Cameron defended. “Kovacic made the schedule.”
“You let someone else make a schedule?” Nathan teased.
Cameron flashed a half-hearted smile. “Would you like to watch the launch?”
“Sure.”
“This way,” Cameron said, turning and heading toward the hatch on the other side of the new forward elevator pad.
“I notice A-shift is putting in the most hours,” Nathan commented as they walked.
“They are your primary shift, and they’ll be the ones on duty during general quarters,” Cameron explained. “The commander figured they needed to have the most training in the beginning. The other shifts pick up the pace later, after A-shift is good to go. Besides, you don’t even have the personnel to complete all four shifts yet.”
“That’s because I gave half my crew to you, remember?”
Cameron pulled the hatch open and entered the corridor. Nathan followed her in, pulling the hatch closed behind him, causing the noise from the flight deck to all but disappear. He followed her through the next hatch to the right, stepping into the port launch tube control room. Two men sat on either side of the room, watching their consoles. A third man, the launch controller, sat between them, his chair standing a bit taller so he could see over his console and out into the port launch tube through the large window in front of him.
“A direct window into the launch tube?” Nathan commented, seeming surprised.
“Some sort of alloy the Takarans invented. As clear as glass and as strong as steel. I don’t remember the name.”
“Corobal,” the launch tube controller provided.
“We decided to eschew the cameras in place of this window,” Cameron told him. “Less complicated.”
“What if it’s damaged?” Nathan wondered.
“This compartment can be sealed, and the corridor can be used as a transfer airlock,” Cameron explained. “All the controls can be operated while wearing pressure suits. During general quarters, they’d all be wearing them, just in case. There’s also a pressure door that will automatically drop, sealing this compartment off from the launch tube, in case of sudden decompression.”
“My personal favorite feature,” the launch controller added.
Nathan nodded as he watched the admiral’s shuttle pull into the launch bay on the other side of the window. “Why the center catapult?” he asked, noticing that the shuttle was pulling up to the center track.
“Standard shuttles can launch on any of the three tracks, as can Falcons and Eagles,” Cameron told him. “Anything larger, like cargo shuttles, must launch on the center catapult track.”
“We use the center track for personnel shuttles whenever possible, sir,” the launch controller explained. “It’s thirty percent longer, so we can get them up to minimum launch speed a little more gently. It’s easier on the passengers.”
“Makes sense.” Nathan continued watching as ground crew wearing helmets, comm-gear, and specialized vests walked alongside the shuttle. A man in a pressure suit stood a few meters forward of the beginning of the center catapult, straddling the track. He watched carefully as the shuttle came to a stop, and the catapult’s grappling arm rose up from the carriage and magnetically attached itself to the underside of the shuttle.
“Main door, coming down,” the tech on the right announced.
The man in the pressure suit pointed at each of the other two men on either side, waiting for them to indicate that their respective sides of the ship were ready for launch. After returning the okay sign to the man in the pressure suit, they both headed quickly aft, ducking under the main door. The man in the pressure suit moved out of the way toward the far bulkhead.
“Shuttle Three Two, ready for launch,” the copilot’s voice called over the launch control room’s speakers.
“Green light on ground. Crews are clear,” the tech on the right reported. “Main door is sealed.”
“Depress,” the launch controller ordered.
“Depress, aye,” the tech on the right replied.
“Shuttle Three Two, Port Cat-Con. Launch in thirty.”
“Shuttle Three Two, aye.”
“Port Lead, secure,” the voice of the man in the pressure suit reported as he stepped behind his protective barrier.
“Depress complete,” the tech on the right reported.
“Open inner doors,” the launch controller ordered.
“Opening inner doors.”
“Echo check is good. Tube is clear,” the tech on the left reported. “Cat two is charged and ready.”
“Open outer doors,” the launch controller ordered as he glanced up at the launch clock.
Nathan also glanced at the clock. It read fifteen seconds and was counting down.
“Outer doors are open. Tunnel is clear. Cat is green. We’re good to launch on cat two.”
“Flight ops, Port Cat-Con, Launching Shuttle Three Two in ten,” the launch controller announced.
“Green light from flight ops,” the tech on the left reported.
“Shuttle Three Two, Port Cat-Con. Launch check.”
“Shuttle Three Two, ready to launch.”
“Drop the grav,” the launch controller ordered.
“Gravity dropping to ten percent,” the tech on the left replied.
“Launching Three Two in three……two……one……”
Nathan watched as the admiral’s shuttle suddenly accelerated down the launch tube. He turned his head to the left, straining to see the ship as it disappeared from his view. He looked up at the overhead view screen displaying the launch tube camera, just in time to see the shuttle shoot out of the end of the tube and pull away from the Celestia’s bow.
“Shuttle Three Two, away,” the copilot’s voice reported.
“Close her up,” the launch controller ordered his men.
Nathan turned to Cameron. “Nice.”
“Speeds up launch operations quite a bit,” she replied.
“A little unnerving for the passengers, I bet.”
“You’ll find out in a few minutes,” Cameron replied. “Your shuttle is launching next.”
Nathan smiled. “You forget, I qualified in Eagles. I’ve been shot out of a launch tube before.”
* * *
Captain Roselle sat in the command chair at the center of the Jar-Benakh’s command center, watching the status displays lined up on the overhead just forward of his command platform.
“We’re clear of the platform,” his helmsman announced.
“Departure reports we are free and clear to maneuver,” the communications officer reported.
“Tactical?” Commander Ellison queried as he paced the lower command level, directly in front of his captain. “The threat board is clear, Commander,” the tactical officer replied. “The only traffic in the area is what’s coming and going between the shipyard and the surface.”
Commander Ellison turned around to face the captain. “This ship is ready to maneuver, sir.”
“Helm, steer course one four five, up ten relative,” Captain Roselle ordered. “Give us a one-minute burn at twenty percent forward thrust.”
“Course one four five, up ten. One minute at twenty percent on the mains, aye,” the helmsman answered.
Captain Roselle continued to watch the status screens as the ship changed course. He glanced at the larger screen on the forward bulkhead that displayed the forward camera view, as the two distant dots of light that were Kohara and Stennis slid to the right of the screen and down into its lower corner.
“Mains burning at twenty percent,” the helmsman reported.
“Stand by on the pre-jump recon drone,” the captain ordered.
“PJRD is loaded and ready for launch,” the tactical officer reported.
“Engineering reports perfect burn on the mains, Captain,” the systems officer a
nnounced from behind the captain and to his right.
“Very well.”
“Thirty seconds to end of burn,” the helmsman reported.
Commander Ellison stepped up onto the main command platform, coming to stand to the captain’s right.
“Please tell me it’s not always going to be this complicated,” the captain said under his breath.
“I expect we’ll get the hang of it after a while, sir.”
“End of burn,” the helmsman reported. “Standard departure speed attained.”
“Launch the PJRD,” Captain Roselle ordered.
“Launching drone.”
Captain Roselle watched the forward view screen as the recon drone sped away from the ship and disappeared in a flash of blue-white light.
“PJRD is away,” the tactical officer announced.
“Mas, alert Tau Ceti system control that we will be jumping out of the system in approximately one minute.”
“Aye, sir,” the Jar-Benakh’s communications officer replied.
“Jump Control, XO,” Commander Ellison called over his comm-set. “Final check.”
“All jump systems show charged and ready, Commander. We are ready to jump.”
“Navigator?” the commander called.
“Jump to waypoint Alpha Seven, plotted and locked,” the navigator reported.
“Sensor contact,” Ensign Marka reported from the sensor station. “Jump flash. It’s the recon drone. Receiving data stream now.”
“Recover the drone,” Commander Ellison ordered.
“PJRD data shows the arrival area to be clear,” the sensor operator reported.
“Drone is coming in now,” the tactical officer reported. “Secure in ten seconds.”
Commander Ellison looked at his captain again.
Captain Roselle took a deep breath. “Ensign Noray, jump us to waypoint Alpha Seven.”
“Jumping to waypoint Alpha Seven, in five…”
“All hands, prepare to jump,” the communications officer announced over the ship’s intercoms.
“Three…”
“Here we go, Marty,” the captain muttered.
“Two……one…”
On the main view screen, pale blue light began to spill out from the emitters, engulfing the Jar-Benakh’s hull like a runaway flood.
“Jumping…”
Once completely covered, the coating of pale blue light quickly intensified, turning a brilliant white that flashed and filled the screen, gently illuminating the interior of the command center for a split second before disappearing.
“Jump complete,” the navigator announced.
“Verifying position,” the sensor operator added.
The seconds ticked by. Captain Roselle realized he was holding his breath.
“Position verified,” Ensign Marka reported triumphantly. “We are at waypoint Alpha Seven.”
Cheers broke out amongst the skeleton crew manning the Jar-Benakh’s command center.
Commander Ellison reached out to shake his captain’s hand. “Looks like the Alliance finally has a third, jump-capable warship in her fleet.”
“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, Commander,” Captain Roselle warned. “We may be able to jump, and we may have a few weapons working, but we’re a long way from being ready to jump into battle.”
“Yeah, but at least now we’re no longer sitting ducks.”
“You got that right,” the captain agreed. “Mister Sahbu, put us on course for the next test-jump waypoint.”
“Aye, sir,” the helmsman replied.
* * *
“The doors are opening now,” the reporter announced.
Nathan and Vladimir watched the view screen on the wall as the hangar doors parted, revealing the first ship to roll off line one at the Super Eagle production facility on Earth.
“I can’t believe it only takes them two weeks to build one of those things,” Nathan exclaimed as the door buzzer sounded.
“They started fabricating parts months ago,” Vladimir said. “They had enough to build at least thirty ships before the plant even opened.”
“But the first test flight was only a month ago,” Nathan said as he opened the door. “Hey, Jess.”
“Did it roll out yet?” she asked as she walked past Nathan and headed for the couch.
“The doors are just opening,” he replied, closing the door behind her and returning to his chair.
“I like the new tail,” Jessica commented as she sat down next to Vladimir. “Makes it look meaner.”
“I don’t think that was the intent,” Nathan commented.
“Where’s the food?” Jessica asked.
Vladimir passed her a bowl of chips.
“Are they going to fly it?” she asked.
“They’re supposed to.”
“Even in the rain?”
“It’s a fighter, Jess,” Nathan replied. “It can handle a little rain. Hell, I used to fly my grandfather’s old biplane in worse than that.”
“Your grandfather had a biplane?” Jessica wondered, surprised.
“Yeah, that’s where I first learned to fly. He started teaching me as soon as I could see over the console. Hell of a lot different than flying an Eagle, though. Real stick and rudder flying. No automation. Not even an auto-leveler.”
“I heard the Super Eagles are highly automated,” Vladimir commented. “They even have combat maneuvers preprogrammed into them. Auto-chase, auto-land… I heard you can just get in, push a few buttons, and wait for it to take you to the engagement area. You might even be able to fly an entire mission without ever having to touch the flight control stick.”
“It’ll never happen,” Nathan said doubtfully.
“Why not?” Jessica asked.
“No pilot is going to turn his fate over to an auto-flight system,” Nathan explained. “I don’t care how good it is.”
“Even if it’s better than the actual pilot?” Vladimir asked.
“If it’s better than the actual pilot, then that pilot doesn’t belong in the cockpit.”
“What if the pilot is injured?” Jessica wondered. “Wouldn’t you let the auto-flight take over for you then?”
“Okay, that’s the exception.”
“I don’t get it,” Vladimir said, shaking his head. “I would think a pilot would appreciate the speed at which the computers could perform the maneuvers. If used in combination with the pilot’s instincts, it seems like…”
“If you were a pilot, you’d understand.”
“Are you saying you never used the auto-flight systems during your Eagle training?” Jessica challenged.
“Oh, I used it all the time,” Nathan said. “Just never in combat situations.”
“You never flew in combat,” Vladimir sneered.
“I meant combat simulations.”
“I don’t know, I think I’m with Vlad on this one. It seems like just another tool in the pilot’s arsenal, if you ask me.”
“Perhaps,” Nathan agreed. “Maybe someday it will become more accepted and commonplace.”
“Josh is climbing into the cockpit,” Vladimir said, pointing at the view screen.
“The Super Eagle represents hope,” the reporter said. “Hope for the recovery of Earth, hope for our very survival. At a production rate of one Super Eagle every three days, this plant, and the other two currently under construction, will turn out thousands of fighters over the next few years. The Super Eagles will operate from ground bases on Earth and other Alliance worlds, as well as on Alliance ships and the Karuzara asteroid base in orbit around our world. Combined with the Cobra gunships being assembled on Tanna, they will provide a fast, agile, and potent defensive shield for Alliance worlds.”
“He’s starting up,” Nathan said as he watched the canopy close on the Super Eagle.
“The test pilot, Ensign Joshua Hayes, appears to have started his engine. Any minute now, he will be rolling out across the tarmac to the runway for the first flight of Super Eagle
Zero One.”
“Must be a slow news day,” Nathan commented. “She’s really trying to make this as dramatic as possible.”
The camera followed the fighter as it pulled out onto the runway. It paused briefly, wiggling its control surfaces and running up its engine for a few seconds before taking off. Finally, its engine spun up to takeoff power, and the Super Eagle rolled down the runway, accelerating at an incredible rate. Within seconds, its nose pitched up ever so slightly, and the fighter lifted off the runway. After its landing gear swung upward into its body, the fighter pitched straight up as its engine went to full power. It rode a tail of bright, yellow-orange thrust as it climbed, then it disappeared in a flash of blue-white light.
“Super Falcon Zero One has just successfully taken off and jumped away. Right now, it is well beyond Earth’s orbit, and is turning around to jump back to us.” There was a flash of blue-white light that lit up the airfield, followed by a deafening crack of thunder and a triple sonic boom as the Super Falcon reappeared and streaked over the airfield at three times the speed of sound. The reporter cringed, ducking instinctively to avoid the passing fighter. Her lips were moving as if she were talking to the camera, but the roar of the Super Falcon’s engine, as it went vertical again, made it impossible for them to hear her.
“I guess Josh is putting on a show, huh?” Jessica commented, smiling.
“I’m sure Prechitt will have something to say about his theatrics,” Nathan said with a grin.
* * *
Lieutenant Tillardi entered the newly created jump missile conversion facility, within the Karuzara asteroid base, for the first time since his jump missile prototype had been successfully tested. Excavation of the cavern itself had been completed long ago, in anticipation of future needed space for base expansion. They had only recently prepared the chamber for its first task.
Before him were four assembly lines, each with six stations. Technicians all stood at the ready, waiting for his arrival and inspection before beginning the conversion process. Behind them, along the far wall of the cavern, were rows of Jung missiles, two hundred of them from what he understood, all taken from the Jar-Benakh only days ago.
“What’s wrong?” the shift supervisor, Mister Daviore asked, noticing the lieutenant’s pale skin color as he approached.