Not So EZ

The Ataraxia bucked and shivered. Klaxons and buzzers rang, the ship’s warning system interrupting itself with each new malfunction. The Asp’s heat indicator read 95% and was climbing. Solar winds and radiation buffeted the ship as her captain, Manny Stardancer pushed her nose deeper into the solar exclusion zone. His hand hovered over the heat sink launcher, trying not to punch the button until it was absolutely necessary.  He’d need at least one to make the jump away from the star, as long as he didn’t cook on the way in. If he launched one on the way in, it had to take as much heat with it as possible. Whatever heat that built up after that could not be vented until he dropped from supercruise. He feathered the throttle, trying to find an equilibrium between making progress toward his target, and keeping the heat levels down. Dispatch came over the comm channel, “CMDR Stardancer, what’s your status?” “Little busy!” He punched into the dispatch channel. The ship’s heat levels climbed to 99% and a bulb in the control panel popped, showering him with sparks. His flight suit’s cooling system had already been overwhelmed, and he had it unzipped to his sternum. Losing cabin pressure now would mean death. His eyes locked onto the rendezvous calculations, his speed was good, but he still had two million kilometers to close before he could drop. 

“CMDR Stardancer, what’s taking so long? A TFP shouldn’t take so long. Either you see the client, or you try again.” “TFP? What is that,” he thought to himself. To Dispatch, he replied, “almost there!” CMDR Stardancer was a relatively new Fuel Rat, and his experience with exclusion zone rescues was zero. He was too embarrassed to admit that he didn't know what he was doing and was probably in over his head. His helmet floated somewhere behind him, the smells of melting console began to make him dizzy. Heat levels reached 110% and the Asp Explorer fought even harder to pull itself out of the kamikaze dive into the star’s corona. Finally the Destination Lock indicator turned blue, and Manny slapped the Frameshift Drive button. The buffeting changed from the angry hectic jerking of punching into the solar winds to the almost smooth rocking of dropping from supercruise. After a few seconds, Manny felt the deceleration against his harness, and the Ataraxia was in normal flight. He set his throttle to zero and shut down each non-essential system in an effort to bring the heat level down into an acceptable range. At about 80% he activated his systems and located the client. A Sidewinder! Several jumps outside the bubble of civilization? This Commander was bold, Manny thought, as he wiped the rivulets of sweat from his face. Manny hailed the stranded pilot while selecting his fuel limpet launcher and targeting the little ship. “Out of gas?” he joked, as he launched the first ton of fuel towards the client. “I don’t know why,” the other pilot said, “I’ve got a fuel scoop, but when I get close enough to scoop, I get a warning and the computer drops me out of supercruise.” 

“You can’t scoop a Brown Dwarf, and the exclusion zone is further out than you’d expect,” Manny replied, “hang tight and I’ll get you fueled up and on your way.” 

While the little limpets crossed the distance between the ships, transferring a ton of fuel per trip, Manny reported in to dispatch, “Fuel plus!” 

“Roger, CMDR Stardancer. Good work. Debrief and RTB.”

Manny gave the new pilot a brief rundown on fuel scooping, star classes, and course plotting. He flipped through the status of his modules and reset the breakers on any of the systems that had tripped. He checked the status of his heat sinks, two still ready for the heat build-up he would face trying to depart the star. Manny radioed the Sidewinder’s pilot one last time. “You’re all set, then? Got enough to make it to the next scoopable star?”

“Looks like…”

“Alright, fly safe, Commander!”

“Fly safe!”

The Sidey’s thrusters flared briefly as it spun around to face its destination. The heat vents glowed a deep red, then the ship vanished in a blue streak. As Manny maneuvered the nose of the Asp away from the star, he sent a message to the pilot of the Sidewinder. “Did you get out alright without too much heat?” “Yeah, wasn’t a problem, why?” Manny scratched his head at that. Was the Sidewinder that much cooler running than his Asp? He’d have to talk to some engineers about the Ataraxia’s heat build-up. Putting the star directly to his aft, Manny throttled up, and cruised in normal space for a good long while working up the nerve to activate his Frameshift drive. He unbuckled while the ship cruised away, retrieved his Remlok helmet, closed the zipper on his pressure suit, and returned to his seat. All strapped in, he activated the jump drive, and the heat levels climbed back up to 80% almost immediately. “Damn!” he thought, and readied a heat sink. The Frameshift Drive charged, and the heat levels crept up to 90%. The drive was nearly charged...At 95% he hit the sink launcher, the heat levels dropped instantly to 30%, just as the ship computer started the countdown to jump. “5….4...3...2...1…” The Ataraxia jumped clear of the exclusion zone, and into the next star system. Manny sagged in his crash couch, and mopped his brow.