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Authors: Mark G Brewer
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of their actual potential.
Now though, with the EFDF, he felt he had a fighter offering performance close to that of an Interceptor, a full flight of ten with more to come - and it felt good, really good. Entirely effectors driven their ability to displace rivaled the Pod’s performance, however they still had one glaring handicap in his eyes - given a gun they'd be perfect.
Handing over to his AI he monitored the performance of the pilots behind as they continued their dance around the pipe itself. The formation was tight, every craft on manual and no problems to show for it ; they were excellent. Three Americans, two Chinese, the Aussie, two South Koreans, an Israeli and a Brit, all seconded to Hillary and part of Regan's attempts to be all embracing. He hoped it would go well as working with this group would be rewarding, he was enjoying it.
Coming out of his spiral at the earthward end he led the flight in a tight turn to begin the approach to the flight decks. In the far distance a small flash of sunlight reflected off some shiny surface and caught his eye.
"Ham, are you there?"
"Not 'Piglet' this time?"
"I'm working on it Ham, and anyway, I'm talking to you this time, not one of your little friends."
"So what can I do for you, Rodney?"
"I saw a flash, earthward over Africa toward the Step, can't be more specific than that, I'm going for a look."
"Could it be space junk?"
"Rod . . . this is Hilary," She abruptly came on line and he smiled; as if there could be any doubt about who it was. The slightly cultured English voice had become more Kiwified over the past months but it still sounded incongruous out here in space.
She continued, "I haven't been able to pick up communications but I did track a Russian liftoff from Piesetsk Cosmodrome two hours ago, it's probably a warrior shuttle. If you saw a flash it's a long way from upper atmosphere so it's not out here to service the Russian Station."
"Let's take a look Rod," Ham suggested, "I'll ride with you."
"EFDF A Flight, fall in with me," Rod called to the flight, "we're going for a ride hunting Russkies."
The ten craft curled away from the station and accelerated away toward distant upper atmosphere and the Hillary Step.
They had no need to check in with the Step, Hilary as orbital AI also now monitored and provided central communication for all orbital traffic and only the Russians refused the service. Consequently, anyone who needed to know would be well informed about the incoming squadron. Flashing past they fanned out scanning the distance for whatever Rod had seen.
"I have it on sensors Rod," Ham's frustration was obvious, "It's not junk and it's moving fast, running for atmosphere I'd guess. They have a big leap on us; I don't think we'll get a look before they're into the cloud base."
"Well, let's see how fast this thing can go then, we may have to try it some time anyway." He made the call. "Touch screens for coordinate's people, maximum speed on my mark . . . Three . . . Two . . . One . . . and they appeared to disappear in a blink.
It was exhilarating, too fast to truly appreciate in real time but an adrenalin buzz like no other; to be in one place one moment, then in upper atmosphere the next. Rod quickly scanned the distance, still unable to pick up their quarry.
"I have visual Rod." Minjee's navigator buzzed through. "And . . . it's gone, down through the cloud."
The heavy cloud base, product of a massive bad weather system over Europe, made following probably fruitless and certainly foolhardy.
"A Flight, we're backing off, touch screens for coordinates; we'll cruise back now on piglet power, good work guys. Minjee, flick those visuals through please."
"I'm already looking at them Rod." Ham sounded troubled.
Rod's heads up display switched to the fuzzy distant visual and saw a silver blur disappearing into the clouds.
"Is that what I think it is?" He asked, shocked.
"I think it is Rod, I think it is . . ." Ham's voice
Now though, with the EFDF, he felt he had a fighter offering performance close to that of an Interceptor, a full flight of ten with more to come - and it felt good, really good. Entirely effectors driven their ability to displace rivaled the Pod’s performance, however they still had one glaring handicap in his eyes - given a gun they'd be perfect.
Handing over to his AI he monitored the performance of the pilots behind as they continued their dance around the pipe itself. The formation was tight, every craft on manual and no problems to show for it ; they were excellent. Three Americans, two Chinese, the Aussie, two South Koreans, an Israeli and a Brit, all seconded to Hillary and part of Regan's attempts to be all embracing. He hoped it would go well as working with this group would be rewarding, he was enjoying it.
Coming out of his spiral at the earthward end he led the flight in a tight turn to begin the approach to the flight decks. In the far distance a small flash of sunlight reflected off some shiny surface and caught his eye.
"Ham, are you there?"
"Not 'Piglet' this time?"
"I'm working on it Ham, and anyway, I'm talking to you this time, not one of your little friends."
"So what can I do for you, Rodney?"
"I saw a flash, earthward over Africa toward the Step, can't be more specific than that, I'm going for a look."
"Could it be space junk?"
"Rod . . . this is Hilary," She abruptly came on line and he smiled; as if there could be any doubt about who it was. The slightly cultured English voice had become more Kiwified over the past months but it still sounded incongruous out here in space.
She continued, "I haven't been able to pick up communications but I did track a Russian liftoff from Piesetsk Cosmodrome two hours ago, it's probably a warrior shuttle. If you saw a flash it's a long way from upper atmosphere so it's not out here to service the Russian Station."
"Let's take a look Rod," Ham suggested, "I'll ride with you."
"EFDF A Flight, fall in with me," Rod called to the flight, "we're going for a ride hunting Russkies."
The ten craft curled away from the station and accelerated away toward distant upper atmosphere and the Hillary Step.
They had no need to check in with the Step, Hilary as orbital AI also now monitored and provided central communication for all orbital traffic and only the Russians refused the service. Consequently, anyone who needed to know would be well informed about the incoming squadron. Flashing past they fanned out scanning the distance for whatever Rod had seen.
"I have it on sensors Rod," Ham's frustration was obvious, "It's not junk and it's moving fast, running for atmosphere I'd guess. They have a big leap on us; I don't think we'll get a look before they're into the cloud base."
"Well, let's see how fast this thing can go then, we may have to try it some time anyway." He made the call. "Touch screens for coordinate's people, maximum speed on my mark . . . Three . . . Two . . . One . . . and they appeared to disappear in a blink.
It was exhilarating, too fast to truly appreciate in real time but an adrenalin buzz like no other; to be in one place one moment, then in upper atmosphere the next. Rod quickly scanned the distance, still unable to pick up their quarry.
"I have visual Rod." Minjee's navigator buzzed through. "And . . . it's gone, down through the cloud."
The heavy cloud base, product of a massive bad weather system over Europe, made following probably fruitless and certainly foolhardy.
"A Flight, we're backing off, touch screens for coordinates; we'll cruise back now on piglet power, good work guys. Minjee, flick those visuals through please."
"I'm already looking at them Rod." Ham sounded troubled.
Rod's heads up display switched to the fuzzy distant visual and saw a silver blur disappearing into the clouds.
"Is that what I think it is?" He asked, shocked.
"I think it is Rod, I think it is . . ." Ham's voice
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