Noah - 24. Chapter 24

Date: 6th April 2395
Location: New Moscow Academy

The last rays of the sun were just sinking below the trees as I sequenced myself a sandwich. I had just woken up and didn’t feel like anything too heavy; it wouldn’t be long until I took Aiden up to practice fighting, and eating anything more would likely result in time spent cleaning out the cockpit later.

Propping the pillow up into the corner, I sat on my bed and pulled the sheets back over my legs. The sandwich was, as all were, thanks to the sequencer, perfectly fresh, as was the ham filling. While eating, I contemplated how I was going to lead my wing of cadets in a few weeks’ time. I was completely confident in my abilities to fly and fight, but had never really taught anyone anything. The cadets coming here would be competent pilots, so shouldn’t need much in terms of the basics, but combat was barely touched upon in schools; they would be clean slates.

Back when I was just learning to fight, my father would fly us to an isolated region, then deploy several special drones from the ship’s cargo hold. He would never tell me where he got the drones’ design from, nor was I ever allowed to speak of them to anyone else. Upon leaving the ship, they would fly a short distance away, then take on the form of various fighter craft from all three corporations, including their weapons load outs and flight characteristics. They could be programmed to act as both wingmen and adversaries, providing a far more realistic fighting experience than the small target drones used by schools, which had very limited manoeuvring and evasion abilities, providing little more than moving target practice. Several times after restoring an old fighter when I reached my teenage years, we would both fly out, loaded with drones, and partake in large simulated battles. I had never seen anything that came close to the drones’ abilities anywhere else. I made a mental note to contact him soon and, if possible, get the schematics.

Finishing my sandwich, I recycled the plate and headed out of our room, across to the ablutions. Stripping off my underwear, I entered one of the cubicles and relaxed as the gravity changed, leaving me floating as the device began its cleansing cycle. I stretched and closed my eyes as the static charge moved through my body, causing every cell to tingle.

While I was enjoying the zero gravity, I heard the door slide open and the padding of bare feet on the rubber-like floor. Spinning myself around, I saw Aiden stripping off and entering the cubicle next to me, the slight high-pitched whine of the cleanser beginning a moment later.

“I can’t ever make up my mind which I prefer; the pool or this,” I said, closing my eyes again and allowing myself to rotate and move freely.

“Definitely the pool.” He replied quickly, then paused, “Though this surely has its pluses.”

We remained silent for a few minutes more before the whine from Aiden’s cubicle ceased and I heard the sound of his feet hitting the ground. With a little reluctance, I shut down my cubicle.

“Might as well get straight into a flight suit.” I said, removing one myself from the sequencer. Unlike the small cuboid sequencer in our room, the ones in the ablutions were slightly shorter and wider, and also had limited database access; only being able to produce clothing. “Do you mind if we head to Sol? There’s something that I think my dad might be able to help us out with there.”

“Sure, I’ve never been to Sol.” Aiden replied, stepping into the neck of his suit. “What’s he got there?”

“I don’t think I can really talk about them yet. I want to make sure it’s OK with him first.” I shrugged after a moment’s hesitation.

“Ooookay...” Aiden looked confused. “You going to take lead?”

“I can do if you like, I don’t mind.” I stepped into my suit, activated its inbuilt mechanisms and exhaled as it snapped to my body.

“Well, you know where you’re going in Sol, so it’s probably best.”

I nodded my acceptance, and after quickly checking the time of the next communications relay, sent a passage request to the waypoint station.

“The next relay’s in about twenty minutes. It’ll take us a while to get to the station; unless you’ve got anything to do here, we might as well head up now.”

Aiden nodded his agreement and we left the ablutions, heading towards the hangar.

The sun had completely set when we got outside, but still the rain persisted. The calls of many different animals sounded out over the patter of the rain, causing me to feel slightly apprehensive, even though the compound itself was secure. Spotlights from the accommodations building were set up, casting ample light along the path and attracting a large number of flying insects, fruitlessly circling and flying into them.

I noticed the shining, spotless hull of Mjolnir when I jumped up onto the wing to perform my pre-flight checks. The ground crew, grouchy as they were, were still perfectionists. I first walked over the hull, making sure no panels were loose or missing, then checked that the upper missile bay covers were secure, before hopping off of the nose and checking the cannon sheaths. When weapons were charged, the three plates which currently sat closed, protecting the cannons and increasing aerodynamics, would retract into the wings, as would the missile bay covers. I mirrored the checks along the underside, adding a quick check of the landing gear mechanisms for loose wiring and hydraulics (and stowaways such as Lark tinkering away), before finally checking that the engines were clear of debris.

Happy that everything was in order, I jumped up to the cockpit and into the seat. A horseshoe-shaped collar appeared in my lap as soon as I closed the canopy, which formed an airtight seal between the flight suit and helmet, and also contained the suit’s atmospheric recycling system. When placed around my neck, the collar attached to the suit and closed into a ring. Sequencing and putting on my helmet, I looked over to Aiden, who had just done the same. Giving me the thumbs up, I initiated the ship’s systems and prepared to move off.

I keyed my radio as the thrusters kicked in and the landing gear retracted. A ground crewman rushed over and checked that all legs were fully retracted and locked before giving me a go signal and clearing the area.

“Academy Command; Wing Leader Thor requesting clearance for launch, count two craft for Waypoint Station Sol.”

“Roger Thor, you are cleared for unrestricted taxi and launch; zero local traffic.” The controller replied a moment later.

Slowly I edged Mjolnir from the landing pad, over the apron and onto the runway. A glance behind me confirmed that Aiden was a few metres behind. It only took a moment to get up to atmospheric flight speed and we quickly climbed through the atmosphere. As we cleared the planet’s stratosphere, I switched the ship into space flight mode. The engines reconfigured themselves and the thrusters shut down. Angling the nose vertically, I pushed the throttle forwards, rapidly propelling the ship to over 1,000 km/s. Once we were completely clear of the planet’s gravity, I set course for the wormhole and increased speed. Travelling at 125,000 km/s, given New Moscow’s orbital position, the trip would take around half an hour. Checking that all readouts were normal, I kicked back and, browsing through the library I had copied to the ship’s memory, selected a few tracks of music.

“Sol Waypoint, Wing Leader Thor requesting wormhole transit.” I radioed as we approached the station. Though there was relatively little space traffic requiring passage through the wormhole, it was still tightly controlled. The waypoint stations would send communications drones through the wormhole at set times every three hours, delivering both personal mail and any time slots booked for passage. The system prevented a collision between ships travelling in opposite directions through the wormhole; an event that could be catastrophic. Typically, a wormhole would rotate between unscheduled inbound and outbound traffic every ten minutes.

“Thor, move to holding buoy Alpha and hold position.” The controller quickly ordered. The appropriate position appeared highlighted on both the ship’s HUD and on my neural link. Upon reaching the buoy, we waited just a couple of minutes before being directed to the approach pattern by control.

Passing through the swirling yellow corridor, I noticed far fewer eddies today than my first passage. We still had to make a few course changes to avoid some, but it was a much calmer ride than before.

“Rossiya Waypoint, Wing Leader Thor confirming arrival,” I radioed after we were ejected from the wormhole.

“Roger Thor, arrival logged. There are currently no system alerts in effect.”

“That’s a lot smoother then the Yaponiya wormhole,” Aiden commented as I set our course for Europa and throttled up.

“This time it was,” I replied. “The first time I passed through, two eddies formed at the nexus. Guess it’s just a temperamental wormhole.”

“I guess. How long is it gonna take us to get to Europa?”

“A good couple of hours. It’ll be worth it though, if we get what we’re here for,” I assured him. If my father let us use the drones, it would be a huge help to both Aiden and my cadets later on.

“Still can’t tell me what that is?”

“Nope. Trust me, if my dad OK’s it, you’ll like it,” I replied, matching my ship’s speed to Aiden’s maximum. Since Lark had tinkered with Mjolnir, it was able to outrun pretty much any known ship, so I couldn’t simply max it out when flying in formation with someone else.

“Alright,” he begrudgingly accepted. “So what is there around here?”

“Here? Not a lot. Cast an eye over your scanner every once in a while; there are a few roaming pirates, but they’re hardly a threat.”

I neglected to mention the Cannelli fighter wings that had mysteriously appeared of late. They were the other side of the solar system to my knowledge, so there was no need to worry him, and any known hostile activity anywhere near would have been cause for a system alert.

“Can we go and see Earth later on?” He asked curiously, “I’d like to see what the home world looks like.”

“A big ball of uninhabitable charred rock. I suppose we could go take a look, it all depends on how relations are with Argus at the minute. I don’t think Command would be very happy with us if we sparked a war off for the sake of a bit of sightseeing.”

“Are things really that bad? I thought it was pretty peaceful nowadays.”

“We’re at peace. Everyone still takes the odd pot shot at each other from time to time, though. I don’t think there’s anyone in either fleet who doesn’t hold a grudge against the other for whatever reason.”

“Oh.” His voice held a little nervousness. With the wormholes being guarded at both ends, Rossiya and Yaponiya were both secure systems. The only thing you had to be worried of on patrol there was dying of boredom. In comparison, Sol was a lawless system; pirates in outdated, scavenged vessels occasionally reared their heads, and near the borders, small skirmishes often flared up. I could swear that his ship found a couple of thousand more kmps from somewhere.

“We’re fine though, this area’s all secure and there are pretty frequent patrols. Just sit back and relax, we’ll be there in no time.”

“If you say so.” He still seemed hesitant.

“You got your guitar with you? Try to do something to take your mind off it.” I suggested.

“No, but I’ve got the schematics in my database somewhere.” He replied. Looking over to his fighter I saw a blue glow as he sequenced an instrument.

“Pipe it over, I’ve not heard you play yet.”

“I, uh, don’t really play to other people. I normally only play when I’m on my own.”

“I’m bored over here.” I laughed, “You’ve gotta be better than any attempt I could make at playing anything.”

“Well, I suppose.” He reluctantly agreed, “Hang on a second.”

The radio clicked off as he set up his comm. system to broadcast constantly. A few moments later every sound from his cockpit was transmitted.

“Is that working?” He asked.

“A little tinny, but all clear.” I replied.

“OK, um, here goes.” He said before the sound of an acoustic guitar began. After a few moments playing basic chords he broke into a tune.

For about twenty minutes he played through various tunes before he seemed comfortable and began singing along with one of the songs. When speaking, his voice was a little higher than most people our age, but when he sang, it was much lower and quite melodic.

A blip appeared on my scanner as we passed the halfway mark between the wormhole and Europa. A few seconds later, it registered as a patrol approaching its final waypoint before returning home. As there was nothing out of the ordinary, I ignored them and continued on our way, enjoying the now enthusiastic music coming from Aiden’s ship. Glancing across, it was quite clear that he was well into the music now, bopping around in his cockpit as he played.

“Hey, Thor, that music coming from your wing?” An unknown voice unexpectedly chirped over the radio.

“What?” I exclaimed, not realising that Aiden had been broadcasting on an open frequency. Switching to a private channel to Aiden, I quickly told him to stop for a moment, causing him to suddenly remember he had been rather enthusiastically playing and singing with someone else listening, before switching back to the frequency the patrol leader had called on.

“Uh, yes. Sorry…” I checked the scanner for the patrol leader’s call sign, “Fox, I didn’t realise we were on an open freak.”

“No need to stop. We’ll be passing you in about ten minutes, then following you back to Europa. Any chance you can slow down a bit? These guys are about as entertaining to fly with as a group of drunken kids; it’d be nice to stay in range.”

“No problem. We’ll drop down to half speed, you should stay in range until you get to your waypoint then.”

“Nice one, Thor, We’ll catch up with you soon. Fox out.”

“I must have set it up wrong.” Aiden meekly apologised over a private channel. “Were they upset?”

“Nope, they want more. Drop to half speed, fire up the channel and play away.”

“What do you mean?”

“They liked the music, they wanted to ask us to slow down so we didn’t go out of radio range.”

“They liked it?” He seemed amazed.

“Yeah, you’re good and they want to hear more of you.”

“You’re sure?”

“Wasn’t much room for interpretation. They like you.”

“Well, what should I play? I’ve never had an audience before.”

“Whatever you like, you were doing well before.”

“Um, alright then.” He seemed quite nervous. He must have completely lost himself in the music before and only realised I was still listening when I told him to stop.

The radio went dead for a moment before returning on the open frequency. After a nervous cough he began to cautiously play again. After a few basic tunes, he seemed to relax again a little and began to play more interesting songs.

Half an hour later, the patrol was closing on our tail after completing their course, and rather than hold position behind us, they instead took up positions and joined formation with us.

“You’re the lead now, Thor. Take us home.” Fox’s said over a private channel as his fighter took up position to my 8 o’clock.

“Are you sure about that? I’m not exactly fully qualified yet to lead a patrol.”

“I’ve had a look at your record. I’d say you’re more than qualified to lead a group of misfits like these back home. Just don’t talk in words of more than one syllable and you’ll be fine. Oh, and you might want to lose the music before we get in range of the bases. Some of the commanders can be a bit tetchy.”

“Alright,” I agreed, I had led wings before, but they were always just groups of other students at school, or Griff; never a full patrol of qualified pilots. To avoid interrupting Aiden’s playing again, since he had again settled in and was comfortable, I opened a private channel to every other fighter in the wing at once. I took a moment to practice what I was going to say and how I was going to say it, before authoritatively ordering them where I wanted them; “OK guys, flat delta on me, 4 and 8, thirty metres, form up.”

I watched on my scanner as the ships formed up into a wide echelon, each ship placed at the preceding ship’s 4 or 8 o’clock position with a space of thirty metres between them. Once in position, each pilot sent a roger blip over the channel.

“125 thousand kmps, heading 225 by 103, maintain formation.” I throttled my ship up to 125,000 km/s and resumed our course towards Europa. Without losing so much as a metre, the rest of the ships matched speed and course. Unbeknownst to the others, I had accessed Aiden’s flight controls and adjusted his speed and course while he played.

With the wing in order and our course set, I gradually settled in and enjoyed Aiden’s music while we made our way to the planet.

“Hey, Aiden, take a look at that.” I called out after an hour had passed. From the cockpit, Jupiter was just beginning to grow. Currently, it was an orange ball, about the size of a thumbnail dead ahead of us. “Home.”

The music ceased as he snapped back to reality and focused on the blob. Every few seconds it seemed to grow ever so slightly, just enough to see.

“Looks small,” he commented, not realising how far away we still were.

“Give it a few more minutes and it’ll be a whole lot bigger.” Fox chuckled. “Guessing you aren’t from around these parts, music man?”

“What? Who’s that?” Aiden asked, shocked by the unknown voice and the ‘sudden’ appearance of a wing of extra ships in formation with us.

“Commander Harry Fogg, and I’m the one about sixty metres to your left.” He laughed. Looking behind and to my left, I saw Fox playfully waving over to Aiden.

“Um, no sir.” Aiden replied officially after a few moments. “I’m from Yaponiya, never been this far from home.”

“Ahh, a Yap eh? Not been there for a good few years, how’s New Yokohama faring these days?” Fox ignored the ‘sir’, apparently he ran a slightly tighter wing than Griff, and telling Aiden to drop the title would encourage his wing to do the same.

“Still growing, sir. A second port’s just been finished, so it’ll grow even more soon.” Aiden seemed to be shocked and a little uncomfortable to be casually speaking with a commander.

“I’ll have to drop in some time. I’ll look up your folks when I’m there; tell ‘em they’ve raised a good little musician.”

“Thank you, sir.” Aiden clearly couldn’t think of anything at the moment.

Even now, Jupiter had grown to the size of a tennis ball, and was still going.

“Fox, what’s the Argus situation like now? Would it be safe enough to go take a look at Earth?” I asked after a few moments of silence.

“I doubt it.” He replied with a negative tone, “There’ve been a few skirmishes in the belt the last few days, no doubt a few Gussies down there out for blood. Add in the extra ships we’ve both got at the Cannelli wormhole and you’re asking for trouble.”

“Shame, Aiden wanted to see the home world. What’s this about extra ships?”

“Yeah, since we lost the Tallinn and Jõhvi and the Gussies lost a couple of their frigates we’ve both reinforced the wormhole. Don’t see what good it’s gonna do us though. Those Cannelli ships didn’t come through there in the first place; it’s just pissing off both sides down there.”

“I can imagine,” There was a lot of bad blood on both sides, and there were many pilots who would risk anything to avenge a couple of friends by blasting some of the other sides’ ships out of the air, regardless of the diplomatic situation. “You guys going to follow us in to land? We’re heading to the Northeast sector, planet side.” I asked, unsure of how Fox was planning to file the end of his patrol.

“We’re all done for the day after we get back, so sure. I could do with some fresh air.” He replied for his wing. “I’ll let the station know we’re back, no problems there.”

“Roger that.” I sat back again before opening a private channel to Aiden. “We’ll be approaching comms range with Europa soon. They’ll probably get a bit pissy if you’re playing to them. Controllers have no sense of humour, or music.”

“Alright. Guess we won’t be going to Earth then?” he asked, while the whine of his guitar being recycled held the channel open.

“I don’t think so. Sounds pretty hostile at the moment.”

“Another time?”

“Hopefully, who knows though, with the politics.”

“OK,” He accepted, “We’re nearly there then?”

“Yup, should be getting contacted by contro…” I began, but was cut off by a hail.

“Unidentified patrol, this is Europa Control. State your identity and destination.” A rather bored sounding controller asked.

“Cadet 2^nd Class Thor Jones, Cadet 2^nd Class Energy Marshall and Fox wing. Destination Europa Northeast.”

“Roger, Thor,” the controller replied, “You are cleared to enter Europa airspace. Enter orbit and await further instructions.” The channel closed without waiting for confirmation. Being much busier than New Moscow, Europa’s airspace was much more tightly controlled, requiring designated flight paths for each craft in flight, while at the Academy you could simply drop in whenever and wherever you liked.

From entering communications range, it only took a couple of minutes to approach the colony. From the angle we were approaching, the white ball of Europa contrasted amazingly against the orange clouds of Jupiter beyond. Decelerating to planetary velocity of just a few hundred km/h, a marker appeared on my cockpit, indicating the holding location we had been assigned.

“Europa Control, Thor wing requesting entry path to Northeast port.” I called on an open frequency as we entered orbit.

A moment later, a sequence of waypoints appeared, guiding us to our destination. Configuring the engines for atmospheric flight, we dropped vertically towards the moon’s surface, minimising time spent in the extreme heat of re-entry. After a few seconds, we pulled up and headed for the next waypoint. Behind me, Fox’s wing automatically moved into a more closed formation, reducing the amount of airspace we were using.

Less than a minute later, we were flying above the City. It felt slightly odd seeing home again; it had only been a few days, but already, I had gotten used to New Moscow.

“Northeast Control, Thor wing requesting approach and landing clearance.” I requested as we entered the sector’s airspace.

“Roger Thor, clearance granted. No weather alerts.” The controller replied. It was a beautiful, clear evening. The sun was approaching the horizon and would soon be setting. No fog, wind or snow; it was currently perfect flying weather.

“Not bad,” Fox said while offering his hand after we had set down. His red hair with white-highlights made the origin of his call sign clear.

“Thanks, it’s the first time I’ve led a wing; well, a proper wing,” I replied, shaking his hand.

“You did well. A little tip to remember though, controllers will love you if you close up your formation when in atmosphere. Never underestimate the advantages of having controllers like you.” He offered as he checked out my fighter.

“Thanks, I’ll remember that.”

“You do, and you’ll never have to wait for clearance again. Nice flying with you, see you around.” He said, walking back towards his group of pilots.

“I think you made a friend there,” Aiden joked as I walked over to his fighter. His breathing was fast and deep, not used to the thinner atmosphere. I noticed that I was breathing similarly myself. Breathing on New Moscow was like trying to breathe water; here, it was far easier but you needed more. “Where now?”

“I don’t think my dad is on duty at the moment,” I replied, checking his roster. Sending out a ping, his neural link reported him as being in the apartment. “This way.” I indicated, pointing over to the changing room. After hours in the cockpit, I think we both needed cleansing and a fresh uniform.

Once through the door, the temperature increased dramatically. With the bay being open ended, the temperature was only a little warmer than outside, currently at minus ten and falling. Inside, the standard 22 degrees prevailed, soon penetrating our skin and feeling far hotter.

Stripping off, we each took a cleanser and left feeling far fresher. Our clean uniforms were a great relief after the hours we had been wearing a tight-fitting flight suit. As comfortable as they were, they still felt restricting, and it was always a good feeling to get out of one.

“I think we’d be better off going underground.” I suggested as we stood at the surface entrance to the port. All over the door, frost patterns had thickened into ice and snow currently looked shin deep. Though I had walked through it when it was far colder, I decided that for Aiden’s sake, it would be better taking the slightly longer, but much warmer route.

Taking the stairs to our left, we headed down into the sub-terrene and to the City’s mass transit system.