14:00 January 11th, 1648 AC Batavian Standard Meridian Date TimeHMCS Bonaventure (DSC 013), Departing from Crestfall
Cassandra passed through the corridors of Bonaventure with a light jog, going past sailors from all parts of the ship as they went to their duty stations as the entire carrier prepared to depart. While she could have taken one of the lifts or internal rails aboard the ship, there was something reassuring about making the trip to the bridge on foot, especially as the ship hummed with life.
It took a tremendous amount of effort to prepare a deep space carrier such as Bonaventure for deployment. Supplies had to be stored, ordnance brought aboard, equipment tested, readied, and personnel assigned and prepared for the trip. With over 3,000 people aboard a deep space carrier, it felt more like a city in space than a spacefaring vessel. Even for a veteran spacer like Cassandra, the amount of people aboard was much higher than what she had been used to aboard Starlight.
The bridge itself spanned over multiple floors, with ferric metal alloy catwalks and stairs connecting the separated layers of the bridge together. It was a dimly lit space, with the few recessed amber lights providing just enough light to prevent people from bumping their shins against consoles. Most of the space was illuminated by the ambient glow of displays and consoles, lighting up their operators in colours ranging from cool blue, faint jade green, and muted white, broken occasionally by the amber of warning light tests and alerts. .
At its heart, right behind the seat of the captain, was a table with a holoprojector displaying the proximity of the ship to the surrounding traffic. The holotable was a masterpiece of sensor and information fusion, and the deceptively simple display was, in truth, the product of a small army of sensors and officers whose job was solely to track and update everything that fed into the display.
The display twinkled with the icons of hundreds of civilian ships and the dozens of patrol vessels and fighters that defended Corlain and Wijtschate. The stations of the bridge were arranged around it, further bathing the room in its gentle blue glow. There was also a clear hierarchy of information that went into the layout of the duty stations within the bridge, with the spaces in front of the captain reserved for the most important and mission-critical systems, with the rest located above and behind on the upper galley, arranged around the rotunda to provide ease of access when the officers present on the bridge monitored the situation.
All of this so that the combined might of the bridge and CIC could reduce war to symbols and lines, which the commanding staff would translate into action.
Cassandra moved across the bridge, walking over to one of the observer seats present on the bridge. She silently sat down and accepted an offered cup of coffee from one of the junior officers on the bridge. Linking her Ghost into the bridge’s network, she took a brief moment to take in the focused and determined energy of the crew as they went through the final checks before departure.
Captain Boudewijn Kruger, calmly standing in front of his seat, also with a cup of coffee in his hand, was looking through one of the many simulations of windows on the bridge., The large screens he was looking at went from the top to the bottom of the entire bridge, simulating the windows favored by naval officers of old terrestrial navies.
After all, some things never changed, no matter the centuries of innovation between them.
“Crew accounted for?” the Captain asked, looking over to the officer manning the tactical station.
“Conn, TAO. All stations report ready.”
With her Shine, Cassandra could see a smile on the older officer’s face.
“Good. Prepare for departure.”
A faint vibration rolled through the hull as the ship’s fusion reactors increased their output, preparing the massive form of Bonaventure for her trip across the void outside. Cassie could see some of the passive system readouts on the walls of the bridge automatically switching to provide information on the massive fusion torches that were roaring to life behind them. Temperature readouts of C1 and C2, flow percentage…
“Nav, release anchorage and prepare to maneuver,” the Captain ordered. A couple seconds later, the Nav officer, a younger brown haired man, immediately reported—.
“Conn, Nav. Anchorage released, we are ready to depart.”
“Very well. Take us out at port speed, and then accelerate to one third cruise speed,” Captain Kruger said calmly. A chorus of confirmations rang out as the bridge truly came alive around him.
The surface of the black life giving liquid inside of Cassandra’s cup shuddered as the ship’s fusion torches thundered with energy.
“Comms, notify Wijtschate control we are underway.”
“Conn, Comms. Wijtschate control acknowledges. The departure corridor is clear.”
In Cassandra’s opinion, it was always exciting to watch a ship depart from her mooring from the bridge. In this case Cassandra was also quite pleased that Reese didn’t want her reservists to fly anywhere near the station during their departure, which presented her with the unique opportunity to observe the bridge like this.
“Conn, Nav. The ship is clear of the anchorage perimeter. Course set for Vidar.”
Captain Kruger sat down quietly, and she could see him taking a sip from his coffee cup before continuing.
“Nav, bring us to standard cruise.”
“Standard cruise, aye.”
There was no change in the pitch and tone of Bonaventure’s engines as the ship began to smoothly accelerate towards its cruise speed. In the early days of manned exploration from Old Earth, starships had to take care to limit how fast they got up to speed, lest gravity render their fragile cargo of human lives into paste. Nowadays, these forces, which would normally squash humans into paste, were easily bypassed by the mass manipulators of the ship, keeping the entire starship at the cozy 1 Gee which humans appreciated so much.
“Conn, TAO. Departure complete. We’ll be at cruise speed in five minutes. Engineering reports all systems working without issues.”
“Excellent. Inform CAG to launch our CAP once we clear 100 milliseconds away from the station.”
Finally after so much work, Bonaventure was underway.
15:00 January 11th, 1648 AC Batavian Standard Meridian Date TimeHMCS Bonaventure (DSC 013), Green Squadron ready room
Cassandra took a moment to look at the pilots entering the meeting room from her position inf front of the holographic projector—currently displaying a simulation of the flight path that Bonaventure was taking to the rendezvous point. The Green Squadron pilots were much faster to settle this time around; no one was cracking jokes, yet she could tell that they weren’t tense and anxious, either. Everyone was attentive and alert as they took their seats. While the incident in Wijtschate ultimately resulted in no harm done to any of the personnel aboard Bonaventure, the atmosphere aboard the carrier was noticeably more subdued than before.Even those who have been riding the waves of victory felt the need to focus now.
“Alright everyone,” Cassandra said, causing the smattering of conversation within the room to quiet down. “You are all now Sage Flight. We don’t have everyone ready, so the pressure is on you.”
Cassandra crossed her arms as she looked all of the gathered pilots in the eyes. “To the CAG, you are pretty much the only useful part of Green Squadron. That means all eyes are on us. But I’ve seen how you’ve all improved, and I know we can do this.”
While she didn’t like the fact she had to put every single experienced pilot into Sage for this part of their journey, the accelerated timeline meant that she didn’t have much of a choice. This was also their first chance to really prove that the Greens were every bit Navy as the rest of the jockeys aboard the ship. Her eyes fell upon Lorelai, who, surprisingly enough, seemed to be a combination of excitement, anxiety, determination and panic at the same time. That girl is expressive, Cassandra thought.
“We have completed the first part of the trip. With Bonaventure underway, Jesters are taking primary CAP. We are now on standby. I want you ready, alert, caffeinated, focused, and not lollygagging around. That means you will be here in the ready room. Eat all the croissants you want, drink a gallon of coffee, but I want you ready.”
The pilots nodded. Some faces were familiar by now. Aside from Lorelai, of course, there was also Salad, his WSO Wojak—a woman with sharp cut features, ginger hair and pale skin. There was the troublemaking duo of Static and Java, who were already huddling together and talking about some sort of inane conversation, though when Cassandra’s eyes caught on Java, the man looked up and gave her a sheepish but alert smile. There was Wednesday, with her smooth black hair in a braid, Judge with his blocky build, Taser and Tassels in the back of the room in their usual spot, and Teflon, whose name came from the AWACS assigned to them, was playing with his little lucky charm shaped like an old Terran firearm, one that Cassandra recognised as a design which inspired many of the modern PDWs in use with the Commonwealth today.
They weren’t as ready as she wanted them to be, but they were the best that Green Squadron had.
“In Phase Two we are playing ball with Sulfur Sounds. Good news? It’s going to be pretty damn quiet. Bad news? We’ll have to be constantly fighting off our biggest enemy: exhaustion. It’s going to be the night part of the ship’s duty cycle, and for many of you this is going to be your first time you’re forced to fly tired.”
Cassandra gave a slight smile to the pilots, and she noticed how some of them relaxed as she continued in a softer tone.“It’s going to be alright. You know the material and you know how to fight. All I ask is that you keep up your great work. If you suspect any trouble, use your Ghost to give yourself stims and overclock. Treat every sortie like the combat sims we did,” she said, but the smile slipped off her face as she continued her briefing. “I don’t care if you feel this is paranoid in our home system, but you know what happened in Wijtschate. You never know what is waiting around the corner. I’ll take the worst shift myself.”
The assignment list for all of the pilots appeared on the hologram.
“In Phase Three we’re taking a bigger portion of the load. There’s going to be longer slots as we get closer to Vidar. It’s going to be more dangerous here; they might want us to fuck up to prove their point.” Cassandra grinned. “We won’t. Finally, I’ll have Salad take flight. I’ll be on backup with Lorelai myself in case it is necessary.” Flying like this would take a toll,, but they simply didn’t have any other options.
“It’s not the best nor the most glamorous job, I know. CAG is keeping us away from the public eye and making us pull the cart. But we’ll do it. We need those flight hours and we need to prove ourselves. Make no mistakes, ask questions as you need and Liner will be on standby to rotate out anyone who has trouble. If you have questions… Ask Liner.”
While she wanted Liner in the air instead of the less experienced pilots, she knew it would be for best if she was on standby. After all, she needed someone she could put up in the air if the need arose. She straightened her posture and made a gesture over the holographic projection, zooming in on Phase One of the trip.
“Our job begins at 1600 hours. I want alert crews—that means you Static and Java—in your place by 1545e. For the rest, get rest. If you need to, use your Ghost to put you to sleep, even if it means we will all feel knackered afterwards.”
She felt a note of pride in her chest as the pilots—her pilots—all gave her determined looks. This time, though she wanted to remain stern, she couldn’t conceal the proud grin that appeared on her face.
“Green Squadron,dismissed!”
15:24 January 11th, 1648 AC Batavian Standard Meridian Date TimeHMCS Bonaventure (DSC 013), Somewhere in the ship
Lorelai felt as if she was about to pass out. She was being dragged along by her commanding officer aboard a Deep Space Carrier, into a hangar, to look at a fighter which would inevitably have her callsign on it.
It felt wrong. Surreal. Absurd. When she was in flight school, she heard that only the best got to fly from the deck of a deep space carrier.
And now she was here.
Alongside a squadron commander.
My stomach hurts, she thought in a rueful and small voice. Her Shine sent a beep as a yellow pop-up appeared in the corner of her eyes, warning her about her elevated heart rate, lower-than-normal blood pressure, and an offer to inject her with stimulants due to extreme stress. Thanks Ghost, but this is just the norm for me, she thought as she dismissed the alert.
She barely registered the unfamiliar corridors. The trip to Hangar was an absolute blur of people and colours. All she could feel was the way her hand had fit into Cassandra’s, which seemed like an island of stability and hope in this entire stressful mess.
Oh Stars and Tides, I am so out of place they must think I am some arrogant child that got into the Starfighter Corps because of a rich family. They might bully me, but I don’t have a dime to give them!
I just wanted tuition!
Uuuuuuuuuuuu…..
If this was a comedy skit, her legs would probably be in the air, her body flailing up and down behind Cassandra, but unfortunately, this was real life.. She was stumbling, tripping, bumping into bulkheads and just in general—confused.
And then, there it was. The hangar.
It was a massive open space, made of the same type of metal as the ship’s armour, albeit in a thinner layer. Lorelai focused on it as she tried to steady her shaking nerves. She had some surface knowledge of how ship construction was done in the Republic and the Commonwealth. It was actually quite fascinating…
The base component before it was properly refined was De-oxidised Titanium-50 Grade 38 Alpha-Beta Phase Alloy, made in orbital foundries. They were age-hardened under gravitic conditions, using industrial-sized artificial-gravity generators to subject the material to extreme gravity treatment and internal tension treatment, which… ah… the numbers…
They were so beautiful…
When she looked at the alloy, which to other eyes, was a simple surface used in ablative panelling, she thought the world made sense again.
And then there it was.
“Hey, Lorelai? Siren? Look at this,” she heard the gentle voice of her leader. As far as Lorelai was concerned, this was the only reason why she was where she is.
Cassandra. Seraph. The only ace in the reserve service.
“A-Ah yes. I was just thinking… uhh… Technology really is amazing,”she said. She barely managed to get rid of her habit of poking her fingers together.
“I know right?” Cassandra said.
As a seasoned officer Cassandra knew the beauty of starship hull plating?! Lorelai’s eyes widened as she began to wonder why the Reservist Ace would know how beautiful the proc—
Oh. That is a starfighter.
… That is beautiful too—but before Lorelai could get lost in her thoughts again, she forced herself to register the starfighter in front of her. They were amazing things, really. Even in her little world she could understand the beauty others saw in it.
There was a proud expression on Cassandra’s face as she looked upon the sleek machine. “She doesn’t belong here in the hangar. She longs for space. Among the stars.”
Her eyes seemed to glow as she fell quiet, and it only took Lorelai a moment for her brain to really register why she was looking at the machine with such a reverent expression on her face—this was going to be their starfighter.
The realization made her stomach cramp up with a strange, odd feeling in her chest. Was it pride? She wasn’t sure. It was all so scary. She tried to push that fear aside as her eyes roamed over the angles and curves of the lethal machine before her.
It was about double the size of atmospheric warbirds. Dark paint coated the entirety of the spacecraft, so similar yet so different from the stealth paints once used on Old Earth. Stealth was difficult in the void of space. Sure, it existed, and numerous forms of stealth coatings and technologies existed, but they were both expensive and just not feasible on the scale of a frontline fighter.
It was a bit over thirty meters long, but from where she stood, Lorelai wasn’t sure how much the wingspan was. Her Shine interacted with the strike craft that was hers, and she felt her Shine and the fighter perform checkmarks in the back of her mind. Her Shine eagerly informed her that the grey paint that covered the majority of the fight was calledDeep Starforce Grey. There were other colours on the fighter, though; there was a dark red, almost maroon swathe of paint on the left wing.
She had to catch herself and remind herself that was the port side of the strike craft. Aside from the le—port side of the starfighter, the same crimson paint covered the canards, and some strips in decorative patterns. Over the crimson, on the port wing, the national symbol of the Commonwealth was proudly emblazoned in white—the Compass Star in all its glory. The history of the symbol was long and storied, her encyclopaedic mind helpfully supplied her: it was ultimately adopted as a symbol to commemorate the system that the Queen’s great-great-great (great?)-ancestor had brought the first settlers of the Commonwealth to. She was a very magnificent woman, but she mentally shook her head as she forced her eyes away from the symbol.. They drifted towards the kettle containing the cockpit: the protective, armoured, shielded portion of the canopy hiding their own fragile forms. It was located in the front of the starfighter, in the same position that cockpits used to in the atmospheric fighters she loved reading about in her youth.
She blinked. She almost didn’t realize that there was writing underneath the access canopy. Her name was on it. And a callsign. She never had a callsign!
Breathe! Breathe Lorelai!
She caught herself falling into a panic attack.
“We are flying 0200 to 0400 hours and then on standby at the very end of the trip. I know it will be rough… but you’ll be with me, right?” Cassandra said.
Lorelai gulped and prayed to the depths that it wasn’t audible. Yes, she would be with the most capable pilot of Green Squadron. But could she really do it? What if she failed? What if Cassandra would die? She would let everyone down and…
“W-We… Uh… W-We! W-We will manage!” she managed to push out. It felt more real when she forced it out and she calmed down a little.
Her Shine showed her a wireframe schematic of the fighter, , helpfully distracting her from her own fear and anxiety.
It looked like a jagged anchor flying in space, with the place where a chain might attach sharpened with the opposite end bearing the fusion thrusters the fighter used.
S-She could do this!
“Calm down Siren. Everyone is rooting for you,” Cassandra said.
E-Everyone?
Lorelai whipped her head around. The ground crews were giving them thumbs up and waves.
I can’t mess this up. Aaa… My stomach hurts.
The callsign did give her a bit of confidence though.