Long Live Khan Alan!
Low Earth Orbit
The roar of the Lucrelance's final stage engine died down suddendly, and at the exact same moment, explosive bolts ejected the spaceship from its safe stowage position. Boost protective covers split away like flower petals, flying away into space.
"MECO!", Maurizio Cheli reported from his right-hand seat within the Selene capsule, "All systems green"
"Velocity matches the mission plan perfectly,
komandir", Svetlana added.
Alan scanned his set of instruments. He was used to the control panels, which to anyone untrained would look like a completely incomprehensible array of lights, MFDs and analog gauges. Satisfied with the result, he clicked on his radio.
"Jerusalem, this is Three. Orbital insertion complete."
"Copy you on orbital insertion, Three. Standby for orbit confirmation."
"And that, people, is how we do that", Cheli commented and grinned, "Damn, that was one hell of a ride."
"Uh, you're still on vox, Three.", the radio squawked.
Alan smiled, seeing Maurizio's expression, "Roger that, Jerusalem."
"Damn!"
Jerusalem confirmed the orbit only a few minutes later, and Selene 3's crew went to work. While the mission would seem to be only a short jaunt into orbit, the capsule was in fact in need of testing: it was much larger than the Soyuz, and while based on proven technology, incorporated many entirely new systems necessary to accomplish a succesful Moon mission.
Camp Kittyhawk Rocketfields, T-2 hours
The rocket's body passed slowly in front of the cage elevator, partially obscured by various cables, inspection bridges and other arcane instrumentation. None of the passengers save perhaps for Miranda were used to the sights, and couldn't help but gawk.
A young pad technician was very helpful in explaining the details and procedures involved in launch preparations, and three out of four passengers listened quite intently. Miranda didn't: not only did she already know most of those things, she felt uncomfortable. The
item was rubbing the sides of her colon and causing no small amount of discomfort.
Fortunately, it wasn't found. The folding axe blade taped to her back wasn't found either - and that meant that she'd have her revenge quite soon.
She laughed. Oh, how she laughed.
Camp Kittyhawk Launch Control Center, T-1 hour 30 minutes
The FASTA liaison stared at the Chief Launch Controller with murder in his eyes. Miranda's laughter could be heard across the cabin's comms channels.
"Why did you let her on board again?"
"Relax. She can't harm anybody this time."
The liaison snorted in contempt. Most FASTA technicians resented Miranda fiercely: her "LSD caper" made the space agency a butt of countless jokes throughout the last year.
"Shall we? Timing is key", the launch controller finally said, motioning to the huge screen showing a video feed of the launch pad.
"Yes", the liaison officer said after some brief hesitattion.
Low Earth Orbit
"We have crossed the terminator. Fifty minutes to rendezvous point."
Selene 3 speeded across the heavens. They whizzed above the Old Continent, shining brightly in reflected sun, and screamed down south. Their trajectory would take them close to Antarctica and north again, over Frequesque.
Half a world away, a rocket's engines ignited and carried the Silver Streak orbiter towards space, on top of a thundering pillar of fire. Selene 3's crew would soon witness the spectacle from orbit through their powerful onboard optics, and would of course listen to the radio chatter, both the calm and collected Jerusalem control crew and slightly more excited pilots.
"Staging complete. All systems nominal."
"This is Bellerophon, the ride's getting a little bumpy."
"Copy that Bellerophon. Stand by."
Maurizio snapped photo after photo of the ascending rocket, which looked no bigger than a little spark at the distances in play. Selene quickly overtook the Silver Streak before it managed to reach orbit - all according to plan, of course.
"Bellerophon, this is Jerusalem. Reduce thrust of the main motor by 10% and see if the vibration ceases."
"Uh...copy that Jerusalem. Request adjusted burn time."
"Roger...MECO at T+793 seconds"
"I guess we had our glitch for this mission...", muttered the Silver Streak's pilot.
The mission clock reached the mark suprisingly quickly, and the engines fell silent. The sudden serenity was an incredible contrast to shaky acceleration.
"Folks, this is the captain speaking", Jefferson Clay, Bellerophon's command pilot, adressed his passengers over the intercom, "We have reached stable orbit. At the moment, we are travelling lower than Selene-3 and should catch up to them within less than thirty minutes. The outside temprature is a comfortable -150 degrees celsius, no wind, clear sky. Enjoy your ride!"
Jerusalem Mission Control centre
"Looking good so far.", the Pegasus executive observed from the viewing gallery in the rear of the cavernous control room. He checked his watch, "An hour from now and it will all be over."
"Yeah. Thank God she's not flying the damn thing", Damian Kaklamanis agreed. The orbital tracks of both spacecraft were displayed clearly on the huge central screen, along with estimated rendezvous time.
"Sweet Lady, will you stop talking about the damn Moonbeam girl?"
"I nearly had my agency shut down because of her. I'll stop worrying when she's back in San Dorado."
The executive just shook his head. The director impressed him as a calm and collected man before - the obsession about Miranda he was displaying wasn't healthy. But, perhaps a succesful mission would cure him...
Sudden commotion inside the control room snapped him out of it. Bellerophon's flight surgeon was signalling something to the Director of Flight Operations.
"Uh, Damian? What's going on?"
Kaklamanis walked up to the viewing window, took one look and immediately turned on the intercom. A flood of half-panicked status reports flooded the quiet viewing gallery.
"...heart rate is spiking! I have no idea what's going on!", the flight surgeon was shouting from her station, gesticulating wildly.
"Bellerophon, Bellerophon, do you read me, over?", Dale Gardner, CAPCOM for the mission, tried calling up the orbiter. A response came soon, a garbled, incomprehensible mixture of voices and shouts.
"AGH! They're walking all over me! They're all over me! Help!"
"Hold him down! A little help here! Come on!"
"I can feel the colors! I can feel them!!!"
"Oh my God...it's full of stars!"
Kaklamanis listened to the chaos for a few seconds before slamming his fist into the armored glass.
"GODDAMMIT!"