Post by sean on Oct 28, 2009 11:15:00 GMT -5
Present Time, UC 0079, SIDE 7[/u]
They were on the last leg now, Side 7 was all around. Issa's shuttle, the simply titled Power, looked like a flatbed truck with a large cabin in the front. Power was as stealth a design as could be asked for, a powder grey paintjob designed to absorb light, super low frequency HF/VHF systems, and subdued engine blocks. The ship was angular, and other than the large flat cargo block on the rear, was an obvious quick redesign. The ship used various colored
light signals to communicate without emission with the colony
controllers, they were cleared for departure.
Exiting the colony after a short fuel stop, the machine was launched with pressurized air into space before firing its 6 huge detachable rocket motors. Issa found himself tucked into a corner seat, comfortably entrenched into one of his final paper writing opportunities. He ran his hand through his black hair, sighing at it
all. The cabin was darkened to minimize the presence of the ship in
space, only the occasional outside light passed over him, and only the faint green ambient lights illuminated his corner. The cabin was
a bare bones operation. 70 seats built into rows, and 10 cargo pallet locations of which all were filled. The cabin was bare metal, ducts, wiring and minimal insulation. The rear hatch was unpressurized and contained three ball pods and the main cargo item. This was truly a military cargo-ship. Not built for comfort, or pleasure. Issa tried to focus on his paper, A Treatise on Scattering free space communication in a battlefield environment,[/u] It was coming along, slowly.
Issa was more concerned with immediate future events, his new assignment, and probable combat. His ability to protect himself, others and the equipment he had been charged with were all pressing on his mind. It certainly did not help did not help that there was a battalion of federation marines on board, sleeping, drinking or doing whatever else they saw fit. Issa was also tasked with the defense of the ship. Should it come to it, he would go out in the ships trio of Ball pods and fight a moving retreat. The war was suddenly on, though tensions had been the undercurrent for weeks, the combat was finally real. The very ship he had been assigned to had seen its first row, and came out on top.
Intercom: Standby.
Booster ignition in...3
2...
... and 1. Check.
The pilot, a bald man, probably 45 years old and chomping lazily on a
cigar reached for the control panel in the cramped cockpit, he flipped
the control cover, pressed and held casually the red switch. There
was utter quiet for a moment, only broken by a sudden high pitched
whine as the bleed air systems fed directly into the motors.
Everyone was still, staring intently forward, white knuckle grip on their seat arms. Issaput his small computer down and braced
himself, closing his eyes. The relatively small ships interior turned an unearthly blue glow, and everyone was almost violently pushed back into their seats with massive acceleration. The ship rocketed out of Side 7 space, moving from 2,500 km/h to nearly 33,000km/h. After the acceleration leveled out, the blue glow dimmed and the cabin eventually returned to the green in ship light systems. The orange droppable rockets separated with a jolt and the ship
moved off in course towards the Earth.
After the ships deceleration, Issa stood and moved forward and up the stairs into the flight deck, just above the passenger cabin.
"Ensign Roe, sir?" Issa asked, "Can you send a communication to the Lion, I am on time, on schedule, and the cargo is secure. Thank you." He smiled.
"Roger Doc."
((OOC It looks odd, but whatever, don't care.))
They were on the last leg now, Side 7 was all around. Issa's shuttle, the simply titled Power, looked like a flatbed truck with a large cabin in the front. Power was as stealth a design as could be asked for, a powder grey paintjob designed to absorb light, super low frequency HF/VHF systems, and subdued engine blocks. The ship was angular, and other than the large flat cargo block on the rear, was an obvious quick redesign. The ship used various colored
light signals to communicate without emission with the colony
controllers, they were cleared for departure.
Exiting the colony after a short fuel stop, the machine was launched with pressurized air into space before firing its 6 huge detachable rocket motors. Issa found himself tucked into a corner seat, comfortably entrenched into one of his final paper writing opportunities. He ran his hand through his black hair, sighing at it
all. The cabin was darkened to minimize the presence of the ship in
space, only the occasional outside light passed over him, and only the faint green ambient lights illuminated his corner. The cabin was
a bare bones operation. 70 seats built into rows, and 10 cargo pallet locations of which all were filled. The cabin was bare metal, ducts, wiring and minimal insulation. The rear hatch was unpressurized and contained three ball pods and the main cargo item. This was truly a military cargo-ship. Not built for comfort, or pleasure. Issa tried to focus on his paper, A Treatise on Scattering free space communication in a battlefield environment,[/u] It was coming along, slowly.
Issa was more concerned with immediate future events, his new assignment, and probable combat. His ability to protect himself, others and the equipment he had been charged with were all pressing on his mind. It certainly did not help did not help that there was a battalion of federation marines on board, sleeping, drinking or doing whatever else they saw fit. Issa was also tasked with the defense of the ship. Should it come to it, he would go out in the ships trio of Ball pods and fight a moving retreat. The war was suddenly on, though tensions had been the undercurrent for weeks, the combat was finally real. The very ship he had been assigned to had seen its first row, and came out on top.
Intercom: Standby.
Booster ignition in...3
2...
... and 1. Check.
The pilot, a bald man, probably 45 years old and chomping lazily on a
cigar reached for the control panel in the cramped cockpit, he flipped
the control cover, pressed and held casually the red switch. There
was utter quiet for a moment, only broken by a sudden high pitched
whine as the bleed air systems fed directly into the motors.
Everyone was still, staring intently forward, white knuckle grip on their seat arms. Issaput his small computer down and braced
himself, closing his eyes. The relatively small ships interior turned an unearthly blue glow, and everyone was almost violently pushed back into their seats with massive acceleration. The ship rocketed out of Side 7 space, moving from 2,500 km/h to nearly 33,000km/h. After the acceleration leveled out, the blue glow dimmed and the cabin eventually returned to the green in ship light systems. The orange droppable rockets separated with a jolt and the ship
moved off in course towards the Earth.
After the ships deceleration, Issa stood and moved forward and up the stairs into the flight deck, just above the passenger cabin.
"Ensign Roe, sir?" Issa asked, "Can you send a communication to the Lion, I am on time, on schedule, and the cargo is secure. Thank you." He smiled.
"Roger Doc."
((OOC It looks odd, but whatever, don't care.))
