Low Pass
Posted on Tue Jul 28th, 2020 @ 9:52am by Lieutenant Colonel Shaun Bradley
Edited on on Tue Aug 4th, 2020 @ 8:18pm
1,141 words; about a 6 minute read
Mission:
Equivalent Exchange
Location: Above Haumean
Timeline: Thirty minutes prior to "MEETING"
You couldn't deny there was a very different feel to the inside of the fighter than there was to a regular shuttle. First of all, it hugged you, keeping you tight to your seat, surrounding you with information. Second, there weren't the traditional LCARS displays, no everything here was tactile and more accurate. Two forward displays, one display left, one display right, and physical buttons and switches. Nothing could be left to chance, you have to be able to hit the right sequences at the right time, every time, which meant tactile feedback. It even had a throttle and control column assembly, physical tools, that were easily swapped for creature comfort of the pilot.
The new Valkyries flew better than they used to, Shaun had to admit. Since the Raptor project had been rolled into the new Gryphon, he'd been worried about the Valkyrie MkII and its systems overhaul, especially in his experience with the stealth variant of the Raptor. But this flew wonderfully and manoeuvred just as well, easily carving through the skies over Haumea in the late afternoon sun. His Valkyrie, painted in the black that he'd become accustomed to, and as such had a certain feel to it through the air. Sitting in his front seat, the rear unoccupied, he turned his head to get a better view of the mountains in the distance, and smiled to himself, perhaps he'd have to set down over there in the future. As if to encourage him, the heads-up display pulled system data from the satellites in orbit, and fed it back to him, allowing him to see that the mountains were still cool, but warmed to the point they were comfortable. Maybe it was time for a camping trip?
His helmet chirped, and a familiar tone came through his comms. "Starfleet Fighter Charlie-Foxtrot-Zero-Wun-Zero-Wun, this is Haumea Control, we have you on approach, what're your intentions, over?" Local Control always had a tone, a cool crisp air of authority, with a light friendliness that barely extended past their words.
"Haumea Control, this is Charlie-Foxtrot-Zero-Wun-Zero-Wun, callsign 'Spectre', I'm on a low pass approach for Haumea Spaceport, soft landing, and a meeting with Captain Luka Mahone. Estimated approach time is two minutes, with an expected departure tomorrow morning, over." There was a pause as the colony's control systems pulled up his flight plan and confirmed it was in line with his reported lines.
"Affirmative Spectre, we have you on approach for Haumea Spaceport. This is a non-military outpost, you are requested to lock your weapons and send system feedback to Control to ensure civilian safety, over." Shaun had expected nothing less, fighter craft made civies a little uncomfortable, always had, and they were likely going to want to ensure he didn't have an accidental discharge. Reaching over he keyed his weapons systems from STDBY to OFF on the threeway toggle that existed. Tapping his keys on the display to his left, he transmitted the lock command. There was another pause, followed by " Spectre we have confirmed weapons as offline and without power. Civilian leadership though has one further request, over."
Shaun's eyebrow raised a little, the Lieutenant Colonel had expected him to have to fully power off his weapon systems, that was fairly standard for civilian ports, but it was more rare to have something else asked of him. "Go ahead Control," he said back, listening to his engines as he throttled back a little to slow his approach. He could see the spaceport, but was worried they were going as ask him to go around.
"Spectre, most of these people have never seen a fighter flyby, at least not in a positive light. Do you, uhhh, do you suppose you could give us a low pass at one hundred feet above building level with a verticle climb to five-thousand immediately after? Put on a show? Over." The Marine's lips curled upwards into a grin. Of course they wanted a show, it was likely that Haumea wouldn't get a full formal air show anytime soon, so they wanted to make it exciting. Laughing as he called back, he was happy to give it to them.
"Haumea Control, Spectre to buzz the treetops, keep it tight to the line, climb immediately to five thousand for acrobatics, and then descend to spaceport. Should I expect children for autographs too?"
"Negative on the autographs, we're sure you're busy Spectre. Cleared for western approach and ascent directly over central. Read-back correct, pop it if you got it, Haumea Control Out." Another laugh filled the helmet, and he banked hard to the right, screaming towards a vector that would give him a Western approach and give him some room to show off a little, and likely to give Haumea Control a chance to blast out a notice to the civilian population about the impromptu airshow. Flipping a couple of switches he primed his rear nitrogen-based RCS systems. Out of atmosphere they were great for micro-manoeuvres, but in atmosphere all they would do is leave a trail of water vapour behind him, water vapour that would look like smoke. Next he gave his countermeasures a prime, re-toggling them to his missile system. The small charges would go off with a light bang, looking like fireworks. As he approached the settlement for the second time, he rotated around his longitudinal axis, so he was looking up through his cockpit at the city.
Firewalling the throttle, he fired off the RCS system, and in the late afternoon sun the trail of suddenly cooled water looked like the aircraft was trailing a large fluffy cloud, coming in so low to the buildings it almost felt like he could touch them. In his ear his anti-collision system was screaming, begging him to rotate back to normal and pull up. He ignored it. As the town centre came into view, he punched the control stick forward, slamming the nose straight up into the air, and forcing his anti-G suit and inertial dampeners to scream at him, unable to fully negate the forces acting on him and his body, as he leveled the stick back to centre. Only to throw it to the left and slam to right rudder pedal to perform an upward climbing barrel roll, passing through the five-thousand feet mark, before pulling back on this engine to find himself hovering in the ass-out roll he was performing before throwing off the flares in a small finale. The whom performance lasted less than thirty seconds, before he flipped the craft back to normal and nosed for the spaceport.
"Haumea Control, how was that?" He asked, panting a little as he found it easier to breathe again.
"Beautiful Spectre, we thank you. You have clearance for landing pad Bravo-four. Welcome to Haumea."
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