A Shot into the Darkness
200KM Due East of New Sadira Island, 12:00 PM Local Time
SRAS Exploration
The ocean from horizon to horizon was empty of any vessel except for the small fleet of Republic destroyers that surrounded the purpose-built Exploration. Exploration was 300 meters in length and 20 meters at the beam. At the Beam was a 15-meter diameter hole the stretched all the way down through the ship to the water. The sides of the cylinder was plated in heat harden armor 3 feet thick. Exploration was a veteran of test launches, having been used to test every one of the sub-orbital rockets that had laid the groundwork for this launch.
The communication network linked to every vessel in the small flotilla activated the loud speakers aboard ship, announcing the countdown: “T-minus Five, Four,…”
Exploration was all but abandoned, save for a short colonel, Lt. Col. David Rico, Commander of the Space Science Wing of the Air Combat Corps, and his small staff of launch experts. Exploration’s launch cavity was more than adequate for the five meter diameter fireball of the Skyward II’s, to say little of the two meter I’s, but the III’s were a magnitude higher in projected power and Rico would be damned if he’d sacrifice half of the ACC’s, and the military-at-large’s, space trained manpower on account of his own hubris.
“Three,” Came the clam, monotone voice of count down. The rocket’s main engine came on line, its 15 meter fireball licking at the armored cylinder walls.
“Two,” Exploration began to visibly sink in the water as the force of the rocket launch was translated, even through the metal skeleton of a launch platform into the ship’s hull, adding to its apparent weight.
“One,” Rico held his breath.
“Liftoff!” the voice actually seemed to express it’s first emotion. The bright noonday Sun seemed instantly dim to everyone witnessing from Exploration’s command deck, and the flotilla that sat out one km away, as the bright Engines of the Skyward III rocket ignited with full force, thrusting the small, 25kg Explore I satellite into the sky.
The rocket appeared to veer slightly to the left and then to the right, but it always kept its upwardly direction. The first stage jettisoned, falling for one minute before launching it’s parachute. The second stage ignited just as the first stage fell off, redoubling the acceleration. The first stage fell into the ocean, activating it’s recovery flotation, allowing it to remain at the surface to be recovered for later use. The second stage was barely a pinprick in the sky when it fell away, though without a recovery chute, it was to burn away before it hit the water. The final stage vanished into space, and Rico nodded to Captain Rosemary Lincoln at the radar console to begin tracking, waiting for a beep.
Seconds ticked by. Rico held his expression neutral, but read almost concealed despondency among the gather staff. He looked to a small lieutenant who stood nervously at the hatch.
“Lt. Scott, inspect the launch deck and the armored wall.”
“Sir!” Scott said after a pause, his face flushed with relief at finding something to do then ponder success. The opened the hatch and bolted down the stairway to the launch deck.
They watched as the lieutenant walked carefully along the edge of the launch cylinder, carefully inspecting the steel skeleton and launch tower and the cylinder’s harden plating.
Scott’s eyes had just connected with Rico’s when the command deck, silent as a vacuum was pierced with the rhythmic “Beep…Beep…Beep…” The command deck was quiet for seconds after the sound poured in, each member of the team shaking with delight. The eight men and women in the command deck begin shouting and hugging each other in joy, and very much outside of military protocol, but Rico didn’t care. He stepped out of the command deck and shouted, “Lieutenant! Success!”
Scott Cheered and began running towards the Command deck.
When he stepped back in, the cheering had taken on a dire turn. The faces of his staff became sullen, and all of them were beginning to sweat, despite the climate control in the deck. He looked at his radar operator, whose face was red and his collar soaked, he appeared to be on the verge of tears. Lt. Col. David Rico could only think of one reason.
“Shit.” He said barely above a whisper, but it resounded in the empty room. “Where’s it going down?”
“The Queen Charlotte Islands.” The Lincoln said in voice of lower volume, “it never made orbit, it’s careening towards Asrius Eram…”
Rico took a deep breath and sighed, “Get me President Hayden.” He said, his voice picking up, “Now!”
