Rescue Ops - Pleiades Sector IR-W d1-55 "Oracle Down"
16 Dec 2017Leon Falkner
Dec 16 3303 0513
"Flight Control Tower, this is Evac Zero-Nine-Four-One, Python requesting docking clearance." Leon spoke over the radio as the station turned slowly, trailing flames and debris, a perfect portrait of mayhem and chaos.
"Evac Zero-Nine-Fo--" Static cut the line. --One, this is Emergency Flight Control. You are clear to dock at pad Four Two. Debris is increasing Commander, be safe and don't stay longer than you have to. We're on borrowed time here."
"Roger, tower. Python inbound."
Leon edged the freighter class towards the station. He'd done this countless, countless times. He breathed in and out. He checked the radar screen for any outgoing vessels that were in a rush to exit the mailslot or any larger incoming ships. He was clear. The Percheron, a brand new Python class freighter, only recently painted a bright white for visibility, aligned with the docking airlock.
Inside, Leon instantly began to sweat. This was the second hardest part. A busy station was one thing, he could remember running into his fair share of Kruger liners blocking the box or just an Anaconda class who wasn't watching for his little Vulture fighter to be incoming, but this was something else. The interior of the station was hellish. There was no other word for it. He could feel the coolant systems strain the instant he crossed the barrier. He angled the ship around debris more than twice its size. Through the haze, he saw "DOCKING BAY 42, EMERGENCY LANDING ONLY".
The heating klaxon began to sound. Leon's hand hovered over a panel selection 'DEPLOY HEAT SINK' while angling his ship to gracefully lower onto the landing pad, while tapping another control to lower the landing struts. To a beginner, his hands were a blur, adjusting controls and tapping buttons, but this was any pilot's bread and butter. Just a normal landing procedure. In hell.
The heat indicator began to blare at him. 110 tolerance. He deployed the sink, right before touchdown. The cabin smelled of melting plastic.
CLUNK. CLUNK CLUNK. "Landing struts secured". Leon sighed. Immediate danger averted. He unstrapped from the flight chair as soon as he could, strapping on his Remlock helmet and rushing to the airlock.
Now was the hardest part, he thought, as he opened the airlock doors. A rush of sound and fury hit him, along with the scalding air barely kept at a tolerable level.
"This ship can transport one hundred refugees!" Leon shouted to the guards in body armor at the bottom of the loading dock.
"ONE HUNDRED, PLEASE HAVE YOUR ID'S READY!" A guard shouted to a group of people nearby. One by one, refugees from Aegis Research, the Alliance and Federation groups and various other corporate interests passed up the gangplank. At each one, Leon made sure to look right in their eyes. Many of them had blank vacant looks. Many were crying, in despair or relief he couldn't say.
Many of the corporate groups were checking in with decent credit amounts to compensate him for the trouble. Leon really wasn't looking at the contracts. He needed to fill his ship as soon as possible. He directed each passenger back towards the walkway that led to the make-shift passenger bays that were located where any normal Python would have their massive cargo bays and other equipment. Really, everything but the shield generators and minimal cargo space had been sacrificed to retrofit the freighter for refugee evacuation duty.
"Passengers: 96" His read-out said. He looked down the way. There was a mother, with three small children approaching quickly, the guards moved in to stop them. Leon held up a hand.
"Please, Commander! We don't have much but-" The woman shouted over the one guard's shoulder.
"Welcome aboard the Percheron, ma'am." Leon said, accepting the contract. The reward? 300 credits. Normally, the more fiscally minded Leon would've laughed his way to the bank on that one. But not today. Today, credits were not even a secondary concern. "Head up the ramp and down to bay 7. Please strap in as quickly as you can."
"Bless you Commander!" The mother said, ushering her children up the gangway. Leon nodded to the guards, who shrugged and moved everyone back to the edge of the landing bay.
Leon was barely strapped into the pilot's chair when he signalled the cabins. "Attention passengers, this is your captain. Please strap yourselves securely into the bays provided. This trip should take only about ten minutes depending on docking at the Rescue Frigate. Enjoy the flight." He pressed a few buttons, and over the ship's address system, ancient classic Earth music began to play over installed speakers. Leon smiled to himself as The Five Stairsteps began to play throughout the ship.
He completed the process in reverse, and after a swift supercruise, they were touching down at the Rescue Rangers vessel. Leon opened the airlock and allowed anyone needing medical attention off the ship first. Many thanked him in person, many of them had wry smiles or at least twinkles in their eyes. They were safe, for now. The mother gave him a hug, which he returned.
"Control, this is Percheron, Lima, Echo, Oscar. I'm going to need a refuel, resupply and repairs. I took some melting in that last run, my sink launcher is at 65%."
"Ack, Percheron. We'll have a repair crew down as soon as we can spare one. Standby."
"Standing."
"Percheron, we have logged this is your eighth run today, is that correct?"
"Affirmative, Control. There are still people at that station. I'll stop when my ship gives out, my body gives up or they're all safe."
"Bless you crazy bastards. Repair crew inbound. Control Out."
It was a long day. It was getting longer.