Launching Again
10 Jun 2016TheDarkLord
Leesti.October 3296.
I head back in to Bay 33, with my worldly goods in a new holdall. I’ve got my ID and credit chip, a datapad, couple of changes of clothes, and some toiletries. I left most of the documentation that the staff at Pollux gave me, but I am keeping hold of the dossier Nerina compiled. Also in there is Ashley’s letter. I had a good long think about dumping that too, but I can’t quite bring myself to do it.
“Papa’s got a brand new bag!” Persephone drawls as she sees me walking towards her, extending the ‘new’ to make it rhyme with ‘zoo.’ The pallets and pallets of cargo canisters are gone. Now Persephone is perched on a crew ascension ladder that has dropped from just behind the cockpit of the Type-7.
“Mmm,” I mumble in assent. I consider telling her that this is all I have, then think better of it. At this stage, it feels better to wait until we get into deep space before having any more detailed conversations. “Ready for the off?” She seems not to hear me.
“Right, let’s get out of here,” she blurts, as if a switch has closed in her head. She stands slowly, then springs mountain goat-like up the ladder. I follow cautiously.
“Right, you check the cargo racks, ensure all the canister locator pins are secured. Don’t want this stuff moving around in-flight. Can you find your way?”
“I’m sure I can figure it out,” I say, whilst looking around blankly.
“Over there.”
I make my way back to the cargo hold. It looks massive. Rack after rack is installed, and each rack is filled with cargo canisters. There must be two hundred of them. I drop my holdall on the floor at the cargo hold entrance and start inspecting each rack.
The loading pallets are different to what my old Cobra used to have. In that, the cargo canisters mounted to the racks directly, but in this Type-7, the pallets sit on the racks, and the canisters stay in their pallets. I make my way through the racks, checking pallets and canisters. As I reach the back end of the hold, where the smaller racks are, I hear the drives spool up.
Damnit, I really wanted to have an external view for this, my first conscious foray back into space for such a long time. This ship isn’t exactly a tourist vessel though, and its slab-sided hull doesn’t have many portholes. This is a launch I’m going to have to miss, but there will be others I’m sure.
With the secure loading of the cargo verified, I head forward, grabbing my bag on the way. I’m thinking of heading to the cockpit, to see if I can get a view out. Hopefully Persephone won’t be too irritated to have me staring.
The docking bay grapples clank, and the whine of the drives increases. I feel the ship shaking as it breaks away from the landing pad. More clanking as the landing gear stows, and then we thrust forward. Suddenly, I’m aware that I’m probably the only thing that’s not properly stowed in this vessel. Unsighted, I cannot steady myself against Persephone’s control inputs, and I lurch around, lucky not to crash into anything. This isn’t helped by the steady decline of gravity as we climb away from the rotating inner surface of the docking bay, and Persephone matches rotation with the mailslot. I decide to stay where I am, hooking my foot through a companionway step, and holding on to the handrail. I feel the movement of the ship through my arm and leg. As we pass through the docking bay force field the big transport shudders, then everything goes still. After a few seconds with absolutely no apparent motion, Persephone switches on the artificial gravity. My holdall, which had been floating freely, crashes back on to the deck.
As I make my way forward to the cockpit, I can hear the ship’s controls making lots of little audio feedback noises. Persephone is silent. The cockpit is dimly bathed in an orange glow, partly from the low-temperature filament lighting, and partly from the holoscreens that are providing Persephone with the status readouts that she needs.
I see her sitting in the pilot’s seat, alone on the bridge. Even in the dimness, her hair has found some light source to reflect. In front of her, the instruments, the canopy, then the stars.
They are so beautiful, so plentiful. So many of them, with so much opportunity and potential. It’s overwhelming, and I feel my knees weaken against the Lakon arti-grav. I stagger forward and drop into the copilot’s seat.
“Better buckle up if you’re sittin’ there,” Persephone says laconically. She finishes laying in our course, and orients the ship against the jump compass target. As the ship swings towards the hyperspace jump vector, I see our galaxy rotate across the canopy. If I wasn’t already strapped in, I’d have fainted, I’m sure. It is a truly awe-inspiring sight. No wonder I used to live my life out here. Persephone presses some more buttons on the panel in front of her.
“Frame Shift Drive charging,” announces the ship’s computer, before commencing the countdown. The big transport has a feel of a giant machine winding itself up, and as the counter reaches zero, it opens a portal into witch space.