Flight Training can be fun

Posted on 11 Aug 2020 @ 6:00am by Lieutenant Mitchell Graham

Mission: Mission 4 - Race against the machine
Location: Holo deck
Timeline: MD 7 1900
1806 words - 3.6 OF Standard Post Measure

Michael closed the program he had been using to update his skills in Astrogation. It was always good to refresh skills which may be needed in the near or far future. He needed to get familiar with the planets in this sector. Michael stretched back in his seat, giving a bit of a yawn. He really needed to do something to wake himself up. Glancing over his self imposed list of educational skills he was brushing up on, Michael smiled. Piloting, that will be a fun one to polish up a little bit. He knew whom he could possibly ask for tips and such, and that would be Graham.

Hawkins sent off a message to Graham.

"Hope you aren't too busy, I need to polish up my skills in piloting, care to help out? Meet me at the holodeck."

The reply came back over the comm immediately. "On my way," Graham said in his usual, cheerful tone.

A few minutes later the helmsman arrived at the holodeck. The large doors opened with their distinctive mechanical whir. They were standing on the empty grid, however, as no program had been loaded yet. "So what are we doing?" Graham asked, looking around the room.

"Well... I've got a few programs that are supposed to help me up my game with piloting. There was one that a marine captain had worked up, she and I did some dog fights against each other. Another one piloting different space craft. There was also one that I would team up with someone to take on enemy spacecraft. I also have one that features WW2 aircraft. Or even one that just tests the skills doing an obstacle course." he looked at Graham with a grin. "Since you have more experience than I do, I'd like to see what you would choose and hear of suggestions you might have. And have a little bit of fun. You get to set a scenario if you would like."

"Hmm," Graham said as he thought about it. As he did so he looked down at the deck and absent-mindedly scratched the back of his head. "Well, if you've done basic combat maneuvering in high-performance craft then I'd say you're pretty well advanced. And the old-time stuff is fun but we've both probably done that lots of times." Then the corner of his lip twisted into a grin and he raised his index finger. He had just remembered a program that he hadn't used in a few years. "But if you're really looking for a challenge..."

Graham looked up at the ceiling as if speaking to a higher power. "Computer, search my personal library for 'Saturn Orbital Freefall and Windglider.' I hope it's still there." Then to Hawkins he explained, "An angry ex-girlfriend erased-"

"Program complete," the computer interrupted .

"Great!" Graham said, clasping his hands together. "It's a good one. Wanna give it a go?" He said to Hawkins.


Hawkins gave a small grimace at the angry ex-girlfriend comment, then an answering smile at Graham's suggestion.

"Oh yeah! That sounds great, I would love to give it a go. Instructions if you please!" his eyes gleaming with anticipation and feeling the great sense of adventure. He could feel the adrenaline start coursing through his veins, Michael wasn't above adding to his knowledge and skills.

Graham brought his hand down and gave him a clap on the shoulder. "Alright! You're gonna love this. Computer, run program, and give us environmentally appropriate gear to wear."

The holo-grid vanished, giving way to simulated space. The two men were now standing on a flat platform. It was about big enough to land a shuttle on it. They were wearing spacesuits. A vastness of stars surrounded them. Directly over their heads, thousands of kilometers distant, were the rings of Saturn, brilliantly reflecting the sun. From this angle, however, they looked more like a giant arch. Below their feet, underneath the platform, was the planet Saturn itself.

Graham led Hawkins to the edge of the platform. The gravity here was set at a normal 1G, so walking felt natural, if a bit cumbersome in a spacesuit. Cautiously they peered over the edge. A current of pale, yellowish clouds moved by. They looked deceptively serene.

"We're right on the edge of Saturn's atmosphere," Graham explained. "It's space here, but those cloud tops are only 25 kilometers below us. Once you fall in there, it's calm at first, but you don't have to sink far before you hit winds moving at up to 1700 kph. About two hundred years ago someone actually did fall in there. Some engineers were building a platform kind of like this one. The idea was to drop probes to study the atmosphere, or something like that. Anyway, one guy lost his grip, the planet's gravity pulled him down. Goner, right? I mean, how could you possibly rescue someone from a gigantic sea of ammonia clouds?
You can fit over 700 Earths inside there! To find one man..." He shook his head.

The two men stepped away from the edge as Graham told the rest of the story. "But they did rescue him. The orbital platform they were building had a navigational reference beacon built into it. That way, the probes they dropped would know where they were relative to the platform. This guy used his spacesuit's computer to get a fix on that beacon. Here's where it gets really wild. When this guy fell, he had been installing Mylar sheets. They used it for electrical insulation. One of them got fouled in his comms antennas and was flapping in the breeze behind him while the winds of Saturn were tossing him around." He grinned. "Somehow, this guy managed to pull the corners together to create a makeshift parasol. He used it to ride the wind currents. He then spent the next TWENTY-TWO HOURS making his way back up to a higher altitude. High enough that a rescue ship was able to get a clear fix on his transponder. They beamed him out. The guy lived, and he had a great story to tell. Many years later someone else thought, 'I wonder if people would do that for fun?'" He grinned at Hawkins and looked him in the eye to gauge his reaction.

Michael was impressed by the story,he loved tales of people beating the odds. He was impressed by the program that Graham had created. He's jumped out of a restored C-47 Skytrain, it was a thrilling experience. This seemed even more on the edge. Oh yeah, he definitely wanted to give this a try.

"Sounds like paragliding on steroids!" Michael exclaimed. "Let's do this!"

That earned a thumbs-up from Graham. "All right! Well, the good news is, we have much safer equipment to use. Here, let me give you the brief." He patted himself on the back, not to self congratulate, but to draw attention to his hard-shelled backpack. "This is your sail back here. With your hand controls you can extend the flight surfaces to varying areas of coverage. Watch this..."

Graham took three steps back and, with a bit of flair, extended his arms. A pair of blue neon-like wings erupted from his pack. They spanned a good twenty meters on either side, casting a warm blue glow over the entire drop platform. Graham flexed his fingers inward, which reduced the span. "It's based on tractor beam technology. Feel free to play with it. The controls are dirt simple. With a larger span you'll have lift for miles. If you reduce the span you'll lose lift, but you can pick up some amazing speed. Especially if you bring the sails all the way in and sweep them behind you. Then you can manage some fantastic dives into the lower cloud layers." He grinned through his visor.

Michael's eyes widened, his jaw dropping. Oh he was extremely impressed. Closing his mouth, he tried out his own equipment, his own wings fanning out then he practiced pulling them in the same way as Graham did. Mitchell certainly had more practice in this sort of sports, but it was certainly something Michael was wanting to learn. He stayed silent, just getting feel of the wings, he then exclaimed, "Let's get to the next part!"

Graham stepped towards the edge of the platform. "Right then. No better way to learn than to dive right in. Ready?" He peered over the edge, his toes right on the edge of the platform, which was marked with a safety band of alternating black and yellow lines. One step beyond that, and Saturn's gravity would pull him down into its vast and turbulent sea of clouds.

Graham took a deep breath and exhaled sharply. "No problem," he mumbled to himself. After all, this was only a simulation, right? Doing it for real was scary, because you couldn't simply stop the program if things got dangerous. Of course, the real thing involved hours of instruction, and on jump days the platform was packed with safety personnel, plus a couple of shuttles buzzing around, ready to rescue anyone who got in trouble. It was comforting. "Hey, Hawkins. If it gets too intense, feel free to end the program. Okay?"

Michael nodded, feeling the buzz of adrenaline kicking into high gear. He took several deep breaths to calm his nerves. "Not a problem." he answered, giving a thumbs up and flashing an elated grin.

Graham clapped his gloved hands together, which made no sound in space, of course. "You know what? We need a crowd. Computer, add an audience. How about the annual Saturn Jumpfest Competition? The one from a few years ago that set an attendance record?"

The computer chirped and complied. Suddenly they were joined by dozens of jumpers on the platform. Many of them wore flamboyant multicolored suits. There were also judges and safety personnel. The space above them was full of yachts and cruise ships. The comm channel was full of chatter.

An announcer's voice cut in above everyone. "Now standing at the jump point, representing Starfleet, Ensign Michael Hawkins and Lieutenant Mitchell Graham."

The other competitors on the platform flashed their safety strobes. It was how they applauded here. Then they stood back to give the two Starfleet officers their space.

Graham offered Hawkins one last piece of instruction. "Just like stepping off the curb, brother!" With that he fell forward and nose dived toward the gas giant, picking up speed as he went. Just before he disappeared into the top layer his wings unfurled, casting their blue glow. Spectators cheered over the comm.

Michael leaned forward to watch Graham's initial dive, thinking he looked like a winged god. It wasn't long after when he soon joined Graham, his own wings spreading wide, giving way to the sheer exhilaration of flying with a comrade.