Flight Training

Posted on Wed Nov 18th, 2020 @ 5:38pm by Captain Luka Mahone & Lieutenant Colonel Shaun Bradley
Edited on on Wed Nov 18th, 2020 @ 5:39pm

3,335 words; about a 17 minute read

Mission: Equivalent Exchange
Location: Space Port
Timeline: MD 13 :: 1243 Hrs

Pulling the last of the big red REMOVE BEFORE FLIGHT tags from his craft, the Marine completed the last of his visual inspection of the Valkyrie MKII on the pad. The stunning little fight, contrasted to it's kin in a deep black with subdued grey markings, Lieutenant Colonel Shaun Bradley was rather fond of the plane. He'd not expected much from it, having come up in the Raptor, and having always thought the Valkyrie was a little sluggish. He enjoyed though that this one had been improved, it handled like a fighter should now.

Picking the PaDD up off the wing, he reviewed the flight plan quick, and slapped the unit to his knee, which stuck in place. He unzipped one of his shoulder zippers, pulling a paint pen free, and marked two ticks on the nose of the plane, and replaced the pen. Not kill marks (those were ticks on the other side and represented by images of the craft splashed), but to mark the people he had swinging by for flight checks. Most had asked for a basic flight certification flight, but Shaun thought shuttles were boring, even if he was a certified check pilot for them as well. This was a lot more fun.

When Luka had requested the Lieutenant Colonel certify him for flight, the Captain had implied it would have been a boring as hell re-certification of a shuttle. Shuttles were safe and less likely to be crashed into something. Well, so long as the right pilot was behind the wheel.

But when he was informed he should wear a flight jumpsuit, the thought never occurred to Luka that he would be leaping into the cockpit of anything other than a boring, boring shuttle. "Lieutenant Colonel, hello!" And his obliviousness would remain, as he approached the Marine, who looked hard at work. "Thank you for agreeing to this. We have flight controllers on Colony, but I thought I'd take the opportunity to keep my certifications up to date while I had free time."

Turning from his work, the Colonel waved at the Captain. "I am flattered you asked," replied Shaun with a smile. "It has been a while since I have had a chance to do a check flight for anything but my own currency rating for the position. So I am more than happy to help." Licking his thumb, he wiped one tick of white paint off the nose, and pressed the cockpit control. A pair of stairs folded neatly from the side of the craft as the cockpit glass slid back to reveal the seats. "Your shuttles are busy with runners' errands, and are going to be indisposed. As such, we're going to be doing some slow and easy flying in the Valkyrie today. Controls are slightly different, but overall should be enough for you to get the gist, and will keep you current as well."

"Oh." And it took Luka another few moments before he realized what that would mean. "... I hope you're not married to the blond in your hair, because I have a talent for developing early grays in flight instructors. Or uh, so I'm told." He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, eyes on the path to the cockpit. With a reluctance, he slowly moved his way up the stairs. "And I have to admit, I've never seen one of these in person let alone been in the cockpit of one."

Shaun pulled his flight gloves on as he popped up the ladder behind the Captain and into the rear seat. Pulling his helmet over this head, he flipped up the visor. "Don't fret too much about it. If you want I can do the take off run, show you the controls quick, and let you get a feel before you do the check," offered the Marine as he watched Luka get settled. "Sealing cockpit," he said, methodical as he flipped the controls to have the transparent aluminum slide shut around them. "Make sure you put on your helmet, we'll use internal comms for ease here," he said as he slipped his visor down and locked it in place.

Helmet? Already, Luka was apprehensive of the idea of piloting something with name such as Valkyrie, but the idea of needing safety gear was, in it's own twisted manner, startling. "Oh, okay," he stated neutrally, helmet going on his head and following Shaun's motions. He took a moment to sit in the cockpit seat, surveying the various buttons and switches around him. There were a fair number more than he expected.

Flipping through the start up sequence slowly, the Colonel called out what he was doing. "Everything is manual buttons, switches, levers and yoke. It's designed so we don't mistakes, but I won't lie, I find it real satisfying to push on physical controls. We're going to flip on main power, the switch on the left board there above the throttle. Once we have power, we prime the engines and ignite the thrusters," the fighter screamed to life, before the noise subsided. "Last we are going to double check all our magnetic locks are secure and fire up the warp core, this will give use maximum power. Vertical and strafe thrusters are on you yoke, the flight stick, hold it in your right hand, and that little high-hat on it your thumb wants to rest on. Thrust and reverse are your throttle where your left hand wants to sit, pitch and roll are controlled with the yoke, and yaw is the rudder pedals at your feet. Everything make sense so far?"

For a doctor who prided himself on paying attention to every little detail, Luka found himself beyond lost. As instructed, his hands cautiously taking grasp of the yoke in front of him. After surveying every button and trigger he could have pressed (and potentially caused accidents due to), he tilted his head to look underneath the yoke, as if trying to find the easily-accessible foot pedals that his feet were rather close to. "... Mostly."

Shaun laughed in his set as he flipped the last of his checks. "Okay, two last things. One, if you do vomit in my fighter, tradition dictates you clean it," the Marine said with another laugh, "and two, I need you to reach down between your legs, see that handle that is red and white, I want you to go ahead and pull up on that as hard as you can a couple times, get a good feel for it."

"I... don't expect I'll vomit." Luka mused aloud, as if he knew what was about to occur. With a blank expression, he he reached down to pull the rather vibrantly-colored handle, half-absent as he kept his mind forefront for what Shaun decided to keep telling him.

"That's your emergency eject," said the pilot, flipping a switch to arm it. "And hopefully that is the last time you'll ever touch it, that'll toss the entire cockpit from the fighter and some SAR boys and girls will get a good laugh." With that done, he shifted to settle into the seat he rarely sat in and get his bearings, there was an extra screen as part of the Weapons Officer role that could be slotted back here, with access to the full suite of sensors the fighter had, instead of the old Raptors which relied on an AWACS to process the sensor data and relay it back. "I'm going to do the take off run, which means you have to land us after to complete testing. I'll take us up to one thousand feet over the forests, level off and let you play around, and then we'll begin the check, sound good?"

With Luka's hands fully off the eject lever and on the yoke as if he were holding on for dear life, the Captain let out a weak, nervous laugh. His brow furrowed, eyes on the controls to see if he could figure out which one to press to start a take off. Not that he would touch anything, not after what had occurred, but he was curious enough to keep eyes out for it. "That does. Is landing easier than taking off?"

Shaun laughed, "I mean, getting on the ground is easier most of the time, one way or another. But in seriousness, yes, engines are warm and steady." Flipping to the Station Control, the Colonel called out. //"Haumea Control, this is Spectre Plus One, we're going to be heading out of colony airspace and move for maneuvers forests."\\ A quick confirmation came through, and the pilot gently nudged the craft into the air, as it lightly rocked side to side, it's preferred motion being the forward kind. Once the small craft was above the building line, he eased the throttle forward and retracted the landing gear and encouraged the craft towards the edge of the city.

As the moved to a clear open space, he gently swept the flight towards the forest itself, further away. "So Doctor, using the pedals at your feet, we can sweep the nose left and right. Stick left, we roll left, stick right, we roll right, up and down," he said as he showed off the moves. "Throttle responds quick," he pushed it to half and the craft jumped forward, and he eased the throttle back. "Weapons are offline and locked to my control, so don't worry about them. I'm going to give you control, and I'll be hands off marking. If you feel you're losing it, let me know and I'll take it back," he flicked his PaDD on. "You have control."

"Oh I don't think I'd know how to use the weapons even if you let me have the controls over them," Luka mused in an odd sarcastic quip as he slowly got himself a feel for the controls. He fell silent for a long moment, as if expecting the whole craft to take a nose dive the moment he was given control. But it felt freeing once he realized that it was not, indeed, as difficult as he thought. "... Not a whole lot of Starfleet Captains asking for flight lessons, huh?"

"Nope," replied the Colonel, turning to look out the side of the cockpit. "Truth be told, most Captain's will only maintain their currency when someone reminds them, and even then, I have seen some go to great lengths to avoid a Marine Check Officer." He smiled and looked back to the front. "Bank left, take us a little further out," he said, maintaining his training check at the same time. "It does mean though that I get the pleasure of putting more hot shot pilots in their place though," he said with a chuckle.

Luka couldn't help but smile at this. "I don't exactly see a whole lot of Captains eager to get in the cockpit of one of these, though I suppose there a few that are all too eager." He fell silent, brow furrowing as he concentrated all too hard on one simple motion to take them out further as instructed. "Though I will say, this is surprisingly less... horrifying than I personally thought it would be. Not... that I'm about to get all gung ho on a squadron, but I can see the appeal. It's much easier to pilot when you can feel what you're doing, so to speak."

"Species customizable controls, fully contained propulsion system, and that view," replied the Colonel, pointing out into the horizon. "I know a lot of people who say the best view in the world is from the Captain's ready room, but I don't know about that. I think the single view from the front seat of one of these, that gives you a sight you can't get anywhere else." The man paused and smiled, and then laughed. "When I retire, I hope they'll gut one of these of it's weapons and let me keep it. It'll be a cold day on Qo'noS before you get me to give up flying."

"That... will probably be the same day that they clear me for regular use of these fighters." Luka added in a deadpan. His hands firmly on the yoke, the Captain managed to tear his eyes from the controls to allow his gaze to wander out the viewport. "I can't disagree that this is a beautiful view... but I don't know if I'd compare them. You're doing completely different things in both. Here, the view is fantastic, but you see it from any angle you want. You're in control of where you're going. Sure, I suppose the same could be said for a Captain in their ready room, but most of those vessels aren't built for that sort of thing. You get one view, a handful of scans, and whatever everyone else tells you. Really, how much control does a Captain have over the whole situation, least of all the view from their ready room."

A silence fell between the two as the Colonel thought over his own words, before he finally decided what to say. "I don't think you give yourself enough credit. You go over your crew, your people, you get to know them. You learn to trust them. In any exact moment, you might now know what you are specifically doing, but you have someone you can trust to make the decision. You are putting a lot of weight on your shoulders, expecting to know answers to questions you have never asked." The man smiled, wrapping his hands around the controls firmly, and yanked back on the control column, pulling it free of the Captain's grasp with ease.

The fighter rocketed into a steep climb, and the Marine firewalled the throttle, accelerating quickly through MACH 3, a boom that shook the snow free of the trees below, and the craft climbed rapidly towards the upper atmosphere, reaching within a minute, regardless of any protest that might happen, the edge of where space met the planet's boundary. Reaching forward he killed main power, leaving the system in a brief bit of limbo, before the nose of the craft fell forward and gravity and air resistance were the only bits in control of the craft.

"Okay Captain, recover."

Luka's hands relaxed as Shaun took control; clearly the Lieutenant Colonel had a plan. For a moment, the Captain mulled over the man's words. Perhaps what he said was too harsh, as he relied perhaps too much on the actions of others around him. Already, he was leaning too far into the words of the man who took control, but it was definitely something for him to think about.

He made a noise when the Valkyrie shot through the air, upwards to the stars, mind pushing back to center and to the lesson at hand. Some part of him wanted to simply take the view in from their angle. There was something to be said about what the could see from the cockpit...

But then, the whole ship lurched downward. Luka's hands instinctively clasped onto the yoke, thoughts scattered in a panic. Was this part of the lesson? Surely the Lieutenant Colonel had given him all the information he needed to complete the task in front of him. But, with the power cut off, Luka wasn't sure how he could have done so. Or was he overthinking it, and if he yanked on the yoke it would be all fine But wasn't yanking the yoke upwards and hoping for the best simply... unwise?

Oh yes, he was overthinking the whole situation.

After a beat, and letting the ship pick up speed as they were at the mercy of Xaeprea's gravity, Luka managed to squeak out one word; "How?"

"Left hand, red button, push and hold for three second," replied the Colonel, quickly calling out commands. "Purge the intake, sudden shut down causes them to stall," he watched as his orders were hurriedly followed. "Next, toggle directly below that, flip down then back up," he called again, the lights going dark into the cockpit, then flicking back on. "Throttle back to twenty-five percent, hold the throttle and push the same red button we pushed first again." There was a whine as the craft began sucking air into the system again, a compressor kicked in and it began to filter. "We're going to be reaching dynamic pressure quick. Right hand, there are four buttons in a row, push all four, that is going to allow the secondary systems to push into the shields and weapons, good. Pull gently back on the yoke, we're going to level out into a glide, good Captain, keep it steady," cooed the Colonel as the craft levelled off into a steady path. It wiggled, no stabilization system, only mechanical control surfaces keeping the system steady.

"Okay, left hand again, keep the right firmly on the yoke, just above the throttle is a pair of toggles, flip them down and then back up, left side past the throttle, pull back on toggle and hold until you hear the engines engage." There was a hum engines came to life, and he nodded. "Last but not least, engage main power by pushing the yellow button by your left hand, the engine will take over from the batteries." The lights flickered for a second and in his back console, the displays snapped to life, their secondary purpose now allowed. A few moments of steady flight passed, and finally the Colonel spoke through a smile. "Now you know how to recover from a power stall in atmosphere of a Valkyrie MkII Fighter. Tell me, do you ever plan to use that information again?"

As their flight pattern steadied, Luka's white-knuckle grip on the controls relaxed slowly. He could hear his heart beating in his ears as the moment settled. "... I..."

He knew the answer to that, and he was a dip of turbulence away from whirling around and glaring. Not out of a sense of dignity and 'Starfleet Captain' isms. "No, but only because if I find myself behind one of these again, the situation better be an emergency, or I'd be sitting having pissed myself," he deadpanned. The humor of the situation was not lost on him, and despite his annoyance, he found himself also somewhat amused.

"But I get your point," he continued. He gave pause, mulling his words. "The crew is a machine - a machine full of people who's lives need to be valued - but one nonetheless. The issue being is that, when the machine breaks because of an unknown fault, how does someone just keep going with the parts they have, knowing full well that the fault could come up again?"

"I'm... being dramatic," Luka stated, cheeks turning a twinge pink. There was no illusion that he had given away a little more than he intended, and there was little room for recovery. "I've never really been good with ... flying. Heights? Fine. Actual flight? Not... my strongpoint."

Shaun laughed. "You never know how things are going to be. You can never predict what the person in the here an now is going to do, it's the fun in dog fighting. You try and anticipate, and move so that you have the upper hand, but at the end of the day, someone else always has a say in the events as they unfold too. Do not try and control them, lest you lose control yourself," he said, quoting his old flight instructor. "As for flying, that's an easy fix. Always watch the horizon, and you'll always know where you are. Everything else from there comes down to familiarity." Another small gap of silence and the Colonel nodded. "I think that's enough lessons for now though, take us back to Haumea Captain, I think I've seen all I need to give you a pass."

 

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