by Unknown
"Roland," Oswald addressed the crew after a moment. His voice was solemn, but not as grim as he felt "I am not being dramatic when I say that we've never been on a mission like this before. For those of you who have always dreamed about saving the world, this is your time to shine." He paused but no one dared even a polite chuckle given his demeanor.
"We will be going somewhere where none of us have been, including Charger and Triumph. As usual, full briefings will be given after departure. But I must tell you now that the flight package and many mission parameters are on a strict need to know basis.
"Also as usual, I know you will be stars. We've drilled and run the simulations together on this all too short leave and I know what you are capable of." He motioned behind the formation towards the Rangers formed up behind the crew. A slight murmur rolled through the formation.
"As a hint of how different it is going to be, these are Rangers from the Earth Force Special Service. They have a very important mission and our very important mission is to make sure that they succeed. But take heart knowing that everyone in Earth Force really, really wants us to make it back this time."
A chuckle rose from the crew and Oswald grinned back before turning to McFarran. "Aux, make the crew ready for orbital transfer. Roland, dismissed. Give your sweeties one last smoochie and board the shuttles. See you in space."
Roland's children snapped to attention and fell out of formation. Oswald made his way to the nearby park and flopped his flight pack onto the grass next to the bench where his family waited. The park was verdantly green and immaculately manicured, a beautiful contrast to the surrounding landscape of steel and plasticrete.
It was a perk of the flight commander to man the last shuttle and it would take at least five to get all three crews to orbit. He sat next to his wife, Misty, and laced his fingers between hers.
"Hey there, sailor," she said gently, sharing a sad smile and kissing his hand. "Congratulations, Colonel."
"Congratulations Colonel Daddy!" Mara said and hugged him.
"Way to go, Dad!" Mary added.
His two girls were really young ladies, each off in college, but he always insisted they make it to his lift-offs when able. This time Earth Force had paid for their visit, and that of Brent, Mary's longtime boyfriend. He suspected Anahita was to thank for that and he was grateful.
"That's great, Pierce."
"Thanks, Brent." Oswald hugged them all tightly in turn.
"I heard your speech, dear. Is it really that big?"
"Very big," Oswald sighed. "Too big to tell anyone, but..."
"You're bursting too?" Misty smiled and patted his hand. "You know we understand. So a big mission, a big promotion," she gave him her sly sidelong glance that simultaneously made him wary and excited. "Are you ready for more big?"
"Not really," he laughed. "But lay it on me."
"Pierce," Brent was suddenly red-faced with beads of sweat appearing on his forehead. "Uh, Mr. Oswald. I'd, well that is... we would..." Brent lost his nerve completely as Oswald inhaled sharply.
"Spit it out!" Mary whispered through clenched teeth. She was as red as Brent.
"We'd like to get married, sir."
Oswald stared at them both, his smile frozen and his head starting to ache. He liked Brent a lot. The boy was a student of geothermal engineering at Caltech and had grown up with Mary. He was also pretty funny when he wasn't stuttering in awe of his girlfriend's war-hero father.
"Ha!" Mara exclaimed with spiteful glee. "I bet she's pregnant! You're pregnant, aren't you?"
"Don't be ridiculous, Mara," her mother scowled. "Of course she isn't. Are you, Mary?" Misty put a hand to her mouth when she saw the hateful glare Mary was giving her sister. Brent looked like he couldn't decide if he should run or puke.
"I knew it!" Mara cried triumphantly.
"Stop it," Misty hissed.
They all looked at Oswald. He looked back at them with the same frozen smile, his head hurting a bit more. He had thought his ability to process information had been maxed out, but he was wrong.
"That's a lot of big," Oswald said finally, as he slowly got to his feet. Brent stood up and faced his future father-in-law, trying very hard to keep his calm. Brent held the view, despite Oswald's best efforts, that his war record made him some sort of commando instead of a welldressed mathematician. The boy could probably take him if he really wanted to.
"That's great, guys." Oswald reached out and hugged Mary and her fiancé. Relieved laughter rippled through the family and hugs were exchanged—except between Mary and Mara. Mara's jaw dropped and she shot her dad a playful, accusatory look. Oswald was glad that he wasn't going to be on Earth for a while.
"That is wonderful," Misty smiled, kissing Brent on the cheek, then Mary. "So, you are pregnant?"
Mary shot Mara another dirty look. "Yes, Mom."
"Look, guys." The pleading tone in Oswald's voice got everyone's attention. "I can understand if you don't want to wait. But there'll be no shame in having the baby before a wedding..."
"That shame is already passed," Mara muttered. She looked as if to say more until she saw Misty's withering glare.
"Anyway." Oswald gave Mara his own sharp look until she raised her hands in surrender. "I'm not sure how long I'll be. I'm in the dark on a few things too. But please wait until I get back. I want to be there. I want to give my little girl away."
"Of course, Daddy." Mary said, wiping tears from her eyes. Brent nodded in agreement, wiping his own tears. He put his arm around Mary and gave her a tight squeeze.
Oswald walked over to Mara and gave her a big hug, playfully tugging on her hair; it brought back memories of the very first time he'd done it in her crib, her fine baby hair almost too short to even pinch. She hugged him back. "I love you, little girl. Be well. I'll be back soon."
"I love you too, Colonel Daddy." She wiped a tear with her sleeve and walked towards an arrangement of bushy pine trees. Mary walked up next, pulling Brent along behind her, and began sobbing as her father swallowed her up with his embrace. Oswald tugged her hair, going back in time once again to her fuzzy head. He went there often.
"I love you, little girl. Be well." Then he put his mouth close to Mary's belly. "And you too, little one." The pregnancy didn't show at all yet, but he patted her belly gently. He turned to Brent and gave him a big hug. Their usual reserved hug was replaced with the embrace given to the girls.
"Don't worry, son. I'm not going to play with your hair." They laughed and Oswald shook Brent's hand—he had a good, firm handshake. Oswald liked that. "You take care of yourself and my little girl and my little-little one."
"I will, Pierce." Mary gently took Brent's hand and led him away from her parents—and away from her sister.
Oswald sat on the bench and pulled his wife of twenty years onto his lap. "I'm getting too old for this."
"You've been saying that for twenty years."
"And it's been true the whole time." Oswald laughed. They had been afforded the time for a nice dinner and romance the night before launch, but that hadn't always been the case. R.H.I.P.; rank hath its privileges. His wife had aged much better than he had and Oswald counted himself lucky for that. They always tried to spend the night before a launch together alone, staring off into the distant stars, smoking cigars and sipping the finest affordable spirits available.
"Space is much prettier from down here than from up there," he often said.
"I wouldn't know," was Misty's usual merry reply. She had never been in any space program, nor had she ever shown a great interest in it, but there was always an unmistakable hint of jealousy in her voice when discussion turned to Oswald going to space. Even with Earth Force's endless recruitment drives, going to space was a rare thing.
"A big, big, big, day." Oswald sighed after a while.
"I'll say."
"Mary got you too, eh?" He laughed.
"Or Mara did," Misty huffed. "That girl needs a good slapping."
"I'll leave that to
you then, Misty. I want to leave on good terms in case I get blown up." He had meant it to be funny, but after he said it, he couldn't even smile at his own joke.
"Stop it."
"Sorry." He took a deep breath and let out a quavering sigh. "Just too much today. Too big." He rubbed Misty's leg, going up the thigh until she playfully slapped his hand away.
"No public display of affection," she chided. "Even for colonels."
"Misty, I love you."
"I love you too."
They sat and watched in silence as the first three shuttles were lifted vertically on their launch rails and roared into the sky. Three more shuttles were slowly taxied into launch positions. Still they said nothing, merely holding hands and watching the ground crews and passengers fading in and out of clouds of steam. The line of crewmen filing into the last shuttle began to dwindle and Misty pulled herself from her husband's lap.
"Time to go, dear."
Oswald sighed and rose to his feet. Misty tugged on the front of his flight suit and brushed non-existent detritus from his shoulder then reached down and helped him with his flight pack.
"These things seem to get smaller every year," she whispered into his ear from behind.
"Because this keeps getting bigger," Oswald smiled and patted his stomach. It was an old joke, as his belly was quite trim. Weight was a valuable resource in space and being over the weight standards was a sure way to get kicked from space duty. If anything else couldn't fit in the small Earth Force issue flight pack, it wasn't going. The flight commander's bag, and belly, was as small as everyone else's.
"Just makes it easier to pack." He gave her a big hug, ran his fingers through her hair, and kissed her deeply. "I love you, Misty."
"I love you too, Pierce." She rubbed his cheek. "Come back soon, hero."
Oswald looked into her eyes a final time, turned, and walked slowly towards the shuttles. Mara, Mary, and Brent emerged from the park and held hands as Oswald faded into the crowd of blue and gold.
Oswald never looked back at his family as he boarded his shuttle. He stepped on the scale and the steward logged his name and mass into his flight tablet. Oswald had enjoyed his leave enough to put on a kilo or two, despite the brevity and training schedule. As he was about to climb the boarding ladder, Anahita tapped him gently on the shoulder.
"General."
"Colonel." She smiled and handed him a small bag. "A gift."
He gently shook it feeling and hearing the liquid inside. He sniffed the bag and smiled. "Delamain."
"Take it, Pierce. You'll need it."
He glanced quickly back at his distant family and nodded faintly. "Thank you, Anahita. I'm going to be a grand-pa."
"Oh!" Anahita put both hands to her mouth and girlishly hopped twice. "That is wonderful, Pierce! Colonel grand-daddy!"
He groaned softly. "I know."
"Come back, Pierce." Anahita's smile was severe but genuine. "Earth needs you to pull this off. I need you to pull this off."
"I will do my best, General."
"Please step on the scale again, sir."
Oswald stepped on the scale again and the steward logged the new boarding mass before climbing the boarding ladder. A moment later his face reappeared, obscured partly by his flight helmet.
"Whenever you are ready, sir. You're the last. All others are accounted and weighed."
Oswald stuffed the bottle into his uniform and started up the ladder.
"Can you give them a tour of the MCC?" Oswald tipped his head towards his distant, watching family.
"We don't usually, but I think I can make an exception."
Oswald finished the climb and looked out at her from the hatch. "Thanks. There are a lot of people counting on you, Anahita. Bring us home."
"Your safety is my top priority, Pierce." She snapped a quick salute as the shuttle hatch closed. Anahita searched the crowd of family members watching the final shuttle as it was lifted to the sky. She saw Pierce's family and made her way over and stood at a respectable distance and they all watched the shuttle roar out of the blue and into the black.
Chapter 4 Oswald found the transition from atmosphere to vacuum metaphorical; the air was noisy, violent, and alive. Space was silent, calm, and lifeless. One could look out on the sky and see the beauty, feel the warmth on one's face. Space was also beautiful after its own icy fashion, but not in a way man could see or feel on his own—it was only beautiful as a star rise or a starry night as seen through the living atmosphere. Everything in space had to be filtered through the glass of portals, visors, or monitors.
The shuttle's observation ports opened after breaking atmosphere and filling the compartment with silence. Earth shone magnificently through the thick glass that separated them from the death of the void. Even in space, it was life that was the most beautiful. There were many exciting things out there, many amazing deep space photographs of colorful mysteries, but to Oswald, none matched Terra in her glory. The tiny people living below were why this crew was putting itself in harm's way.
From his seat Oswald couldn't see the Roland getting closer. The Charger and Triumph were too far away to be seen with the unaided eye. That was fine with him; he'd be seeing enough of those craft as it was.
"And just because she looks so much prettier on the outside than the inside," the pilot announced over the intercom, "let's take a quick peek."
Earth slid out of sight through the view port and was slowly replaced with the Roland and the small station it was docked to. The pilot would likely get spoken to for making the maneuver but Oswald was glad he did.
Roland was long and sleek, her age apparent in that it harkened back to a time where resources still allowed for a little bit of style to be worked into the frame. Somewhere Oswald had an old EF pamphlet that featured a rocket that looked almost as cool as his.
This model was tough, surviving three battles that her crew had not. The skin was perfectly airtight but showed the scars of combat and countless micro meteor strikes. He could make out the hatches that would open to reveal the two laser arrays, the missile bays, and the point defense grid. A long red shark with a nasty grin had been freshly painted down the side.
Four sleek fins extended from the frame near the tail. They held the Roland's heat radiators and skin folded over them to give the rocket minimal streamlining to assist with planetary landings if needed. Newer craft were tailored to the current ebbs of the war which had little call for atmospheric entry.
A single large nozzle protruded from the very rear of the rocket. The Roland used thermonuclear propulsion, ejecting propellant into the reactor and ejected out to provide thrust. The injection of liquid oxygen into the system allowed the craft to vary its thrust output. It was called a LOX-Augmented Nuclear Thermal Rocket; aka the LANTRn. The landing boosters, large conventional chemical rockets, had been affixed between the rocket's fins. Another booster rocket, the tug, was affixed to Roland's nose ready to provide the initial burn and separate for later recovery and reuse.
The shuttle finished its slow spin and the Earth came back into view. Oswald was glad to have seen the Roland this way. His war weariness tended to make him skeptical of all aspects of the war, even while understanding the need. Seeing his spacecraft this way reminded him that it had a history, too. A life of its own if he wanted to wax romantic. It was a battle rocket and had an undeniable predatory beauty of its own. This would be the crew's third deployment on Roland.
Oswald was the last off the shuttle and made sure the airlock confirmed a positive seal before making his way to stow his gear and change.
There was no room for even the flight commander to have his own quarters in a rocket. Everyone slept in small hexagonal tubes that were entered from the end and closed with a thick zippered curtain. There was just enough room to slip in and read a tablet; one couldn't even change clothes inside. The tubes, known by crews as the beehive, were set perpendicular to the long axis of the craft to allow sleeping flight crew the benefit of enjoying any
g's generated by the engine's burn. Given that most notable burns only happened at departure or during combat, the opportunity was usually lost. Many people had trouble sleeping in zero-G, even with the sleep net that kept them snug against the thin mattress. Each tube had a small sub-sonic somnolence generator to aid in the crew getting much needed sleep.
Most of the crew had already changed into their flight uniform, which was a loose fitting one piece jumpsuit. Soft, thick socks with grip enhancing soles called TackySocks (tm) were worn on the feet to help movement in micro-gravity. They also helped reduce injury from those accidental face kicks from nearby crew and reducing the not so insignificant problem of foot odor. When Oswald was finished he pulled himself into the main passage.
The main passage ran between the outer frame and the core, divided into nose-ward and tail-ward directions. For the sake of crew morale, Roland's cramped interior was kept bright and cheery by the Life Support department. Dark and dingy interiors had deleterious effects on crews cramped in such small spaces on extended flights.
Everything possible that was mission critical was in the core section, an armored tube buried lengthwise within the rocket's center to offer the most protection against battle damage and the many other hazards of space. Within the core the primary crew stations were further set in armored pods. Oswald pulled himself along the passage until he came to the hatch to the primary flight control pod and slipped in head first.
The control stations were thickly padded couches with dummy terminals that could access any of Roland's operations programs, if the user had permissions, and project it to the integral monitor, a tablet, or a visor; it was the software defined operation system. Heavily armored combat vacc-suits were stowed behind each station.
Three crewmen were already strapped in with their duty software loaded on the screen before them. They were chatting and laughing, giddy with the upcoming mission and launch into space. Laughter would soon become a rare commodity on Roland.
"Flight Commander on station," Lieutenant Chan Yun called from the pilot's station. Lieutenant Darren Kirsk was continually flipping through the navigator's plot screen, which was full of vector tracks of all the nearby space hazards. He was laughing loudly at something Flight Sergeant Lisa Norris had just said. She turned as best she could from her navigator's assistant screens and gave Oswald a friendly wave over her shoulder.
