Timeline Taxi: chapter 4
My initial plan is to refuel in Lunar orbit at one of the Gateway stations. With fully loaded engine injectors, we’ll be able to make the one lightyear journey just fine. The distance doesn’t matter all that much: as soon as the ship is traveling at near-lightspeed, it only requires a marginal amount of energy to keep its momentum. It’s the speeding up and slowing down to and from near-lightspeed that requires most fuel. For our journey, we’ll have to do the procedure twice: once traveling to the coordinates specified by the doctor, and once traveling back to Earth. Most taxis aren’t equipped with enough fuel capacity to do two consecutive full powerups and slowdowns, which is one of the reasons the doctor is so keen on traveling with me specifically.
Unfortunately, my initial plan won’t work. If Earth spaceports are already aware of my “wanted” status, it means there’s no chance we can dock at any official Lunar Gateway station. Luckily, there are the unofficial Lunar stations, run by individual companies. Oftentimes they are involved in shady business. They now seem to be our only chance of obtaining a full refuelment. It will cost a buttload of money, and I’m not even sure we’ll be able to dock anywhere. But, we’ll have to figure it out in Lunar orbit, because right now I need to focus on docking the shuttle to my ship and prepare for powerup.
We’re currently half an hour away from our rendez-vous point, and another problem already poses itself. Several problems, actually, if you count each of them individually: three shuttles launched 10 minutes after our takeoff, and they left little doubt as to their intentions:
“Taxi LT-22 Shuttle, this is UNJ-6, we urge you to stop your ascent and return to Earth immediately. Your ship wasn’t authorized to launch, and the pilot is to be apprehended immediately. Return to Earth, or offensive measures will be taken.”
I don’t worry — at least not more than I already did — it isn’t a lost cause yet. These shuttles can only be class-B patrol shuttles, given how fast they were launched after our departure. At full acceleration, they can’t keep up with us. However, they might be able to intercept us when we’re docking, which takes about 15 minutes, 10 if I’m pressured on time; and believe me, I am. Still, 10 minutes might be just enough for them to reach an acceptable interception range, which means they could fire at us at will. I’m unsure what kind of weapons these patrol shuttles are equipped with specifically. We might be able to take a couple of hits, but I would rather not put that to the test.
So, time is of essence. If we can dock, powerup, and leave within 10 minutes, we’re good. At least until we arrive in Lunar orbit. I drive the shuttle to max speed, nearing the limit of what’s safe this close to Earth, but maybe I can gain another minute or two.
The doctor knows exactly what to do in a tense situation such as this one: to say nothing. He doesn’t even look at me, and I’m thankful for that; we’re coming in on the ship, I have a visual, and I need to concentrate. It has a pretty unique design: two outriggers extend from the main ship, the outriggers house the engines and fuel injections, while the main part has the cockpit and cargo hold. It also has two docking ports: one up front, and one at the back. We’re coming from behind, so we’ll dock with the rear port, making sure I’m perfectly centered between the outriggers so that I don’t damage them. The question is: how much do I slow down before docking — or, in other words: can I find the balance between “a bumpy, yet successful dock”, or “slamming into my spaceship and die”. I rather have the first option, so I err on the side of safety, albeit by a slim margin.
Our relative velocity is still pretty fast: 5 meters per second, but I might be able to make it work. I keep half an eye on the clock as I’m using the sticks to guide the shuttle not-so-gently towards its goal.
“Remote connection established” comes up on the shuttle’s main dashboard. I tap the screen three times in the right places without even looking at it. It makes the ship start the powerup procedure remotely. That’ll save us two more minutes. I slow down to 3 meters per second because this is just way too fast. I notice a slight twitch in my hands as I grab the sticks again, a side effect of the adrenaline surging through my veins. We’re 15 meters out. 12. 9. 7. 5. 4. 3. 2. 1.
A huge tremor. In a reflex, the doctor startles and swings his arms trying to grab hold of something. Luckily he’s strapped in tight. We didn’t dock, but bumped. Distance is 2 meters. 3. 4. I give some more power. 4. 4. 3. 2. 1. Another bump, less powerful this time.
“Docking success” I feel another surge of adrenaline as I see that message pop up on the dashboard. Good, but there’s no time to celebrate. I leave the doctor strapped in, and launch myself towards the airlock beneath the shuttle’s control panel. It opens and I make way into the ship. I can navigate my ship blindly, so I make it through the cargo bay to the cockpit in no time. “Powerup 89%” the dashboard shows. Just enough time to set the right course.
“Of course it couldn’t have been that easy,” I mumble as I check available orbital maneuvers for the Moon. The closest window requires an almost full additional orbit around Earth, which is more than enough time for the shuttles to intercept us. That won’t work. Venus would be ideal: there’s a huge community of smugglers there — Venus is a Space Pirate haven. But it’s too far. We don’t have enough fuel to make it. Mars is within reach. But Mars… I don’t want to go to Mars. There’s so much risk of getting caught by officials in Martian orbit — the United Space Nations headquarters is on Mars. There is very little room for missteps there.
“98%”
It's our only chance. Mars it is. I set the course, just in time for powerup to complete. This isn’t a full powerup, mind you. A full powerup is required for near-lightspeed travel, but we don’t need near-lightspeed to get to Mars.
“Autopilot engaged”
We’re off. Our velocity is increasing and for a moment I feel the g-forces pressuring me in my seat. It doesn’t take long before the g-shields kick in, and pressure is back to normal. We’ve escaped. Just like that. I smile, big time. I did it. At least, the first step. I look at Earth’s projection on the dashboard and can’t help but feel that familiar feeling whenever I set out on a new trip. Earth is home, but it also isn’t. From Earth’s perspective, I’ve spent way more time on this ship than over there. But from my point of view, even though she changes with every trip, and even though it’s hard to resettle time and time again; she is home.
“See you soon”, I say to myself as the globe grows smaller and smaller. I startle from my thoughts as I remember: I need to get the doctor.