1808/AC02-03CRYO ENTRY

Ω CHAPTER THREE: DUTY BOUND

“-Protesters returned fire on police last night before OSFC intervened with the deployment of the battlecruiser HF Niladnes early this morning.” The news report began. The two spacers glanced at one another, the situation was all too familiar.

“This scene of insurrection quickly became a reminder of the protective power of the Outer Space Fleet Command. Summary executions were dealt to all individuals for disturbances to civil peace, only after Exped packs dealt a similar punishment to their relatives-”

“And people wonder why I wanted to join the COBRA.” Skip smirked at the thought. He leaned back against the cold metal wall behind him, his mind was still clouded from several consecutive rounds of alcohol. His officer coughed with laughter. "Same shiv happening back then and all."

“At Least you had the option.” French smirked, he flexed his knuckles. Skip let out a small snort, both men reminisced for a moment. “Best thing about being an engineer is machines don’t fight ye’ when ye’ try and help ‘em.”

“Thought you were a mechanic?” Skip took another mouthful of his chosen beverage. French gave him a long lingering look.

“I am whatever I want to be… As long as it involves a fusion torch and the occasional power wrench I’m happy.” French’s smirk faded slowly as his eye’s clouded over. He should’ve been something more. ‘Duty’ had taken it away too. The good memories fed drip by drip into the hidden cruelty of their lives. It was a sacrifice forced, yet in hindsight, it was a welcome one. Their smiles still faded into frowns. Duty was calling. “Prokhyon is it?”

“Monta read that to you?” Skip quirked an eyebrow, his friend flashed a brief blush, before hastily nodding. “Yeah, long and short is; one year of flight, four years patroling the rim-ward quarter of the system, work our way spinward from Hodge’s Moon finishing up at Dagnir. Bit of a loafwalk compared to our previous. There is a known pirate group flying under the flag of BSR that operate near Widow’s Run, so there will be a bit of wake-time before we break orbit and enter IP-Space. Maybe even combat if we find ‘em.”

French nodded much slower. “Should be... quiet?”

Skip remained completely deadpan for a moment, cursing how much time he’d wasted in his life in such a situation. “Busy then quiet. Throw in a bit of asskicking aswell.”

“Grand, can work on the compression coil for the single burn motors, bloody things given us more difficu-” Skip was thankful when the engineer’s ramblings were cut off by the ding of an announcement. The small bar immediately silenced, fellow spacers and ignored scrubbers all awaited the inbound roll call with bated breath.

“Crew of Home Fleet; DSPG gunboat SX05A Phoenix please report to launch gantry zero-eight for immediate departure.”

“To the star’s Skip?” French asked, his smile returned. He quickly began chugging the last of his beverage. His captain looked back at him, a look of determination on his face.

“To the stars French.” They toasted the outbound journey, polishing off their drinks with haste.

“Just don’t go fraggin’ up the launch this time.” French scooped up his bags as a pair of scrubbers, quickly and quietly scurried away with their glasses. Skip pulled out two small pills from his pocket, flicking one over at the hulking man. “I hate these things.”

“Ahh grow up you big baby.” The captain teased, their stumbled steps leading them on a winding path to the spaceport’s egress routes. As they wobbled homeward, their intoxicated minds faded back to sobriety, albeit through painful stabs through their heads and stomachs. Amongst the common colonist’s they kept their heads low, side stepping any whom their paths crossed, not daring to make eye contact with any of them.

Until they saw her hanging ready…

Then they held their heads high.

It took not too long to reach the launch gantry. Even with the sprawl of the complex, many a journey's beginning had cemented the first steps to memory. They handed off their planet passes as they left, handing away their right to walk on dirt for the duration of their mission.

At that point they became Spacers.

The space between the dirt was their home.

Haunting as it were, when they had the stale air hit their faces it held a haunted goodbye. French and Skip came beside their fellow crew members, looking out down at the mess of metal cylinders and glass domes that made up their ‘home’.

"Farewell Colony Alpha." Jax muttered, looking satisfied, she took one last draw on a cigarette and flicked it down to the habitats below.

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"Leave the light on for us." KT said with a voice clean of emotion. French sent her a quizzical glance.

"Come off it KT, the bastards wouldn’t even leave the door open if we were behind them." At his musing the ever-recognisable sounds of grinding gears and whirring motors sounded out from beneath them. The gantry slowly transformed beneath the catwalk, the load bearing scaffolding was replaced with a large decoupler. On one end it’s clamps locked onto the Phoenix’s hardpoints, on the other it connected to one of many gargantuan launch catapults.

They all glanced back at the large launch control tower, the technicians inside visibly and impatiently waving them onwards.

The crew filtered into the waiting airlock of the Phoenix. French took the time to look over the gunboat's ventral surface. He frowned at every scratch, dent and scuff, yet smiled at the fresh coat of paint that adorned her gunmetal hull with matte black stripes and chevrons, dark like the void of space was painted upon her. Puffs of vapour rolled out of vents, the Phoenix purged her systems before the time came for their thunderous lift off.

Skip was the last one inside. Before crossing the threshold to the stars he opened a small flap. The compartment contained the airlock’s override controls, yet after a tug on his finger it too carried his wedding wing. A married man planet side, a free man as a spacer.

He could hear the crew’s banterous bickering even over the song-like hiss of the shutting airlock. The entire ship lurched as the walkway twisted away, and the Phoenix herself was drawn in close to the gantry's massive acceleration rails. He climbed the ladder embedded in what was normally their deck, the handles concealed beneath flaps in need of oiling.

"Tower control reporting green light for launch procedure, as soon as launch checks are cleared." KT announced as their pilot ascended into the cockpit. She giggled profusely as he batted French's hat off his head. Never did it cease to amuse the lot of them, even if it’d been done countless times before. The tirade of curses and insults that followed made them all smile.

The excitement drew out every second into a minute. The mood was jovial.

It was now, as it should always be...

"Copy. Ladies do your business." Skip ordered as he scrambled into his seat. The three comrades all worked their consoles as he engaged his own. The displays flickered into life, the Phoenix greeted him with a long scroll of system checks. With a whine his seat rotated backwards, the view of the red sky now Infront of him was always stunning. His console bleeped that it was ready for them to rise...

"Nav, course control and comms all clear." KT read from the various displays and flashing lights around her. “Ascent pattern clear straight to the fuel depot.”

"Weapons, gantry and bulkheads all in launch positions." Jax said, sparking a fresh cigarette. She glanced over at French. The man was looking blankly at his console. “You ok there big man?”

"What's it say Jax?" He asked, pointing at a flashing display. She sighed at him gently, yet like a teacher to a student she had all the patience needed.

“Try using your words, break it down.” She instructed, her voice was softer than normal. “You can do it, take it slow.”

“Posh… Posa…” The man shrugged, his face almost contorted in pain. His eyes begged for help. Jax nodded, leaning over to see as best she could.

"Positive fluctuations in starboard drive coils." She read, raising an eyebrow. French waved it off, closing the alert.

"All clear on engineering Skipper." Disappointment was thick in his voice, yet he hid it well.

"Problems French?" He turned back to his engineer. The bulky man shrugged back, bracing himself for launch.

"Just that bastard compression coil in the single burn motors. Full burn will cook the shiv back out of it."

Skip nodded. Waiting a beat before slapping his comm. "SX05A Phoenix actual, on gantry and ready for launch."

As he waited for them to respond Skip slipped his arms into a pair of mechanised gauntlets, powering them up he tested his reach across the controls. Every action was well rehearsed, and absolutely perfected. Behind him French gripped his seat straps ever harder, Jax flopped back fully into her seat completely unphased for the coming launch. At the navigation console, KT reached out for a small photograph tucked just out of her view.

“Cleared for launch, gantry controls set to your helm. Goodluck Spacers, keep our worlds safe.”

“Will do LC. See you in five years.” Skip closed the channel, the mechanical exoskeleton whirred as he moved. He pushed the throttle far forward. “Hold on guys, Frenchie you ready?”

“Ah shiv. Yes boss.” With far less finasse than his captain, the hulking engineer hastily brought their launch to standby. The clock ticked down in all their heads. It was now showtime.

Their stomachs all learched as safety clamps unlocked with an audible clunk, leaving the Phoenix suspended by only the two, rather spindly connectors to her hardpoints. An electronic whirring sounded out, the only warning of what's to come.

"Brace for acceleration!"

In a shower of sparks and the whipping roar of wind the gantry catapulted into the sky, riding its glowing rails and gaining speed faster and faster. The Phoenix rode the ride into the sky, until their lights went green.

“Engines igniting!” French barked as he hit the big, inviting switch…

...And the Phoenix, obliged...

The shaking was unbelievable, but it eased to nothing but sheer G forces in a split second. Like an explosion it echoed, well beyond Colony Alpha. Joined with the bright flash of nuclear fire, they were pushed into their seats as her engines ignited. The hull became wreathed in jets of flame from her idling thrusters, becoming like a fireball, riding up the cloud-cutting catapult with reckless abandon. The Phoenix still rode those rails, yet with a thunderous roar of an awakened beast she was propelled by plumes of fire. A column of fire and fury that had hues of all colours. The fire reached down to the colony, only deflected at the tower's base to emerge from concealed launch tubes embedded into a distant cliff.

The noise was wild. The grind of the gantry, the rattling of the hull, and the booming shock as mach cones covered their surfaces. It was a symphony of almost chaotic forces, but all of them were drowned out by the overwhelming roar of her engines.

The Phoenix cleared the last half of the skyscraping launch tower in very little time. With a final shower of sparks the couplings slammed into the endcap, the decouplers released her hardpoints with an audible clunk...

...and then, finally free, they took to the stars….

She had, gracefully, returned to her realm…

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