Norfolk, the place where the ships head out from gleaming, repaired and in full working order. When they return… well, the enemy doesn’t care that someone has to fix them do they?
The mechanics, technicians… hell whatever they are calling them this month in hope of fostering crew morale continuously work on repairing and retrofitting ships of all shapes and sizes.
That used to be my job, now I’m one of the brass. Sort of, one of the things about knowing how the ships work under the hood AND knowing how they should act in combat, you are always in demand to make sure the thing works properly.
The techs can dot every I and cross every T on that checklist but sometimes it takes a little bit of know-how from the pilots seat to double check that everything is up to snuff. I mean they can check everything matches the book but nothing beats a few high-G turns to make sure the old girl ain’t gonna fall apart on you the first time you clear the guns.
Let me tell you, you don’t want to be the one caught with your pants down flying into a battle and finding out someone ain’t removed the manual safety from the lasers. That doesn’t make for a fun… experience.
That’s where I come in I suppose. The usual test pilot suffered a blow to the head when he ran into a lucky rogue a little north of west point. So while the guy is resting up in med bay. Someone has to do it. One thing I always had said to myself if I ever made it to the lofty height of the brass, office chairs and coffee makers is that I’d never ask those I command to do something that I wasn’t willing to do myself.
So when the call came down the line I thought it was a good chance to put my credits where my mouth was. So here I am, flight testing some newly repaired guardians. The ‘enemy’ had sure done a number on them as usual.
After the fight on the battlefield there was always the fight behind the front lines. Ensuring that there was an actual ship for a pilot to fly into combat when the time came. Sure, you could just scrap the damaged birds and make new ones, but that would be a waste of resources so it was up to the mech… techs, I corrected myself mentally as I reviewed the paperwork to make sure that as many of the damaged birds were repaired and brought flight ready again. Any that couldn’t be were broken down for spare parts.
Walking through the flight deck I find the guardian with the correct tail number ‘45917’. You could tell where the armour plates had been replaced, shiny fresh plates contrasting against dented and worn dull ones. The engine grates although clean appearing almost black due to the constant flame they had controlled for years.
Not for the first time, I sigh to myself and say “Well Hopkins, you did say you’d help them out with this.” Already in my flight gear I enter the cockpit. Starting the pre-flight checks from memory and requesting launch clearance. All so routine I could do it in my sleep. Though there is one thing that will never get old. When that hangar door opens and I’m pushed back in to the seat by the G forces I feel like I’m home. May that never change.
The smoke burned my throat as the ship bucked and swayed. The automatic control computers trying to keep the bird straight and level. The noise of weapons fire hitting the hull dulled as the auto-depressurisation system kicked in, reducing the sound to a dull clatter. I feel the hits more through the vibrations of the ships hull now than hear them.
Status displays open rapidly in front of my eyes on my helmets HUD.
Shields down
Hull 70%
Breaches detected
Auto-Depress positive
RCS control quadrants 1, 7 and 12 offline
Weapons disconnect 1, 3
These and many more messages flit in front of my eyes. The messages immediately fade to almost ghostly grey as I look at the target.
ID – SABRE
Shields 35%
Hull 100%
I jab at the controls and ram the thruster to max, at the same time switching off the guided engine fire system putting the ship into ‘EK mode’. While in ‘EK mode’ the ship would let you play a little fast and loose with the flight envelope. Ya had to pay close attention to the hull stress though, many a rookie pilot had ripped a ship plain in two by demanding too much from a damaged bird.
I jam the ship into a hard right turn trying to keep the enemy vessel in the kill box. No joy, the ships RCS thrusters scream at the power demand, quickly switching tactic I ram the throttle to reverse sacrificing speed for turn rate. Slowly the target reticule lined up with my gun sights.
I fire, superheated plasma bursts from the ships guns impacting the shields. SABRE turns upwards to throw my shots off target. Its done its job though.
ID – SABRE
Shields 0%
Hull 95%
Suddenly, the ship drew my attention to a new ‘MASTER’ alarm I allowed the neural net to bring the alert to prominence.
Fuel Leak – Estimate 90s till bingo fuel
Reactor leak, effective weapons bank power reduced to 40%
I felt the ‘taste’ of the air change, it suddenly became more difficult to breathe. One final alert, the one I hated to see the most.
Life support failure, suit internal supplies only
If I wanted to win this one I’d need to pull a fast one. I brought the guns to bear again, weapons fire lancing towards the target and keeping their shields disrupted.
ID – SABRE
Shields 0%
Hull 65%
I only had one shot at this. As the enemy ship passed in front of me I hit the mine dropper and then jabbed the thruster to get clear. A quick roll later and a missile from the cruise disruption system detonated the mine and won the fight.
All of a sudden everything went black….
Simulation – SABRE Intermediate
Result Success
Rate 60/100
Retry Y/N?
Without giving myself a chance to recover I reboot the simulator again for another run. Sometimes the only way to learn is through trial and error and trust me.
You don’t want to be the first time you kick in the burn to be against an enemy in the real. The simulator is your friend… Even if its a little painful.