Fallen Angel

“Driv'n headlong from the Pitch of Heaven, down into this Deep…”
- Milton

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The I.A.V. Wu Qi was the Tohoku-class cruiser deployed to the outer regions of the Mu Draconis system.  With long, narrow towers, each one tapering towards the top and bound by a common base, the Wu Qi was a massive craft capable of housing a large number of personnel serving in both a military and scientific capacity. 



It was in this latter function that the crew of the Wu Qi prepared to discharge the final probes towards the twin suns of Mu Draco in our extended study of gravitic eddies.  



As the ship positioned itself on the far side of Mu Draco B, I walked to the ready room, my boots making a firm, confident sound on the metal deck. After much consultation with the experts and careful consideration, it had been decided that my return journey to Araxes would consist of a three phase, low tech approach in order to defeat the sensors of the Navigators’ Corpus. 



As a secondary objective, it had been determined that my landing zone would be south of the Wadi Emet.  Forensics from the vandalism of the Magistrate’s office by the Jade Revolution had revealed traces of sand from Azaadi.  Once I had made landfall I would begin a search of this area.

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A woman’s voice called over the intercom: “Probes Five Hundred Thirty-One and Five Hundred Thirty-Two launched on schedule. Standing by, awaiting clearance for Probe Five Hundred Thirty-Three to be launched.”

I checked the straps of my specially designed jump suit, and then put on my helmet. 



We were checking my equipment when the voice called out again: “Engineering has finished final checks for Probe Five Hundred Thirty-Three.  Ready to launch at prearranged window."

That was my ride.



Class 8 Science Probe, rated for 18 hours.  We substituted most of the normal probe sensors for life-support and one passenger.  Eighteen hours in a shipping crate. Minimal sensors and some minimal manual control for emergencies.

I headed down the corridor to the launch bay.



Eighteen hours.  Shame I can’t bring along a book.

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The Wu Qi began accelerating to maximize launch acceleration assist.



Probe Five Hundred Thirty-Three launched.

I am away.

The Official Log Entry will read: “We are receiving no sensor telemetry from Probe Five Hundred Thirty-Three. Five Hundred Thirty-Three probes, one was bound to malfunction. Continue to monitor trajectory as best we can…”

No matter what they tell you about Inertial Dampening, it is in no way responsive enough to dampen all of the gee force from being launched from a probe launcher. Of course, they are not designed for transport. My ears are still ringing.

Phase One.

Space is not a vacuum. It is a bubble.

The heliosphere is a bubble produced by the solar wind pushing aside the interstellar medium. The solar wind is solar particles which stream away from the Sun at over a million miles per hour.  Electrically neutral atoms from interstellar space penetrate this bubble, but by polarizing the hull of the probe, I use it to surf it in perfect stealth using the sun itself to shield me from view.




The polarity of the Sun's magnetic field changes from north to south, extending throughout the Sun's equatorial plane in the heliosphere. The shape of the current sheet results from the influence of the Sun's rotating magnetic field on the plasma in the solar wind. A small electrical current flows within the sheet and is about 10,000 km thick. The underlying solar magnetic field and electric current resulting from the heliospheric current circuit means that sensors can't scan the probe.

I charge the sun.  The probe begins to vibrate, slightly at first, then with more vigor. Instinctively, I tighten my grip.

The probe starts shuddering violently. My jaw shakes. Tears force themselves to my eyes. The lights inside the probe blur.



Solar particle interference escalates to a deafening static based roar.  I thunder around Mu Draconis B and slingshot around Mu Draconis A to exit out at the spot best blinded by the Araxes' moon. 

How long it takes I cannot tell. They call this surfing, but it is more like bobsled or luge.

Phase Two.

On the other side of the sun, the ride becomes smooth once again.  I deploy the solar sail. Nonmetallic carbon buckyfiber thinner than the eye can see and only 100 square meters in area, held by four tethers. It grabs the solar wind and I am whisked off at 618,000 meters per second.

I take the time to run a check on critical systems. 



I wonder what Ceasar is doing right now. What would he say if he knew the risk I was taking?

Don’t go there, Pepper.

Two hours from target and with a switch I begin to breathe pure oxygen to purge the nitrogen out of my blood to prevent decompression sickness.

My skin crawling tells me I am hitting the outer part of the Araxes' Van Allen Radiation Belt.  I disconnect the solar sail. I adjust my trajectory to a shallow angle, and coast in like a meteor.  I begin my final equipment check as I orbit the planet several times, approaching the upper stratosphere.

I activate my global positioning system and calibrate the altimeter. I verify targets and check my equipment. Altimeter, barometer, automatic parachute activation device, compass, knife, helmet, gloves, pressure suit, military free-fall boots  with extra ankle support, oxygen bottle and mask and ALICE (All-purpose Lightweight Individual Carrying Equipment) pack with combat gear and some mission related gear.

Phase Three.

In the mid-twentieth century, US Air Force Captain Joseph Kittinger stepped out of the gondola of a helium filled balloon at an altitude of 31 km and fell into the history books. His record stood for another fifty years, when it was pushed upwards to 39 km and from then on higher and higher still.

Now at a comparable distance above the surface of another world so far away, with final checks complete, I press the correct sequence of buttons.  The hatch opens and I exit the probe.



I pause.

Here the sky is black.

It is not duty that brings me here, nor my belief in the aims and goals of our Great Alliance. It is by my will alone that I set this into motion.

I drop like a stone.



The atmosphere is thin. There is no wind resistance here, no points of reference.  I come in at a long shallow dive, to drop in over the horizon and under their ground based monitors.  High speed downwards, minimal metal, and no power source, nothing for sensors to grab onto.

At 2000 meters altitude, I change from head first to prone to slow to 80 meters per second.  The atmosphere is thicker now and assists in the braking.



At 1000 meters altitude I am cruising at 50 meters per second, I open my chute.  I lurch back hard.




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June 18 - Araxes

The southern desert pan was vast and empty.  The wind brushed the surface layer of sand making it ripple like water. It was a great sea of sand.  I had come to rest upon a great sea of sand.

Landing had brought with it a sense of euphoria.  I paused to drink in this sensation, to appreciate the majesty of my surroundings and the glory of being alive.



It is all so beautiful. 

Slowly, I gathered up my parachute.  I took my bearings, and then began walking towards the rocks at the southern edge of the Wadi Emet.






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((OOC - My thanks to Serendipity Undercroft for the use of her rendering of Araxes in space, and to LilyBell Snoodle for the use of her Alliance cruiser to stand in for the Wu Qi.

A special thank you to Jai Raghilda who brought the science, and helped me write this post. It was Jai who, in June of this year, came up with the detailed answer to the question: how do we get Pepper back on Araxes, past the Navigators using only Firefly level technology? Hers is also the voice of the crew of the Wu Qi.))