Alema Torr
SWRP Writer
- Joined
- Nov 20, 2019
- Messages
- 30
- Reaction score
- 11
Contruum 6
In the skies above Contruum 6, a storm was brewing. "Hang on back there, it's going to be a rough entry!" Alema called back into the passenger cabin of the shuttle. She had made their descent as straight as possible, avoiding the low-hanging storm for as long as she could, but it was time to punch through to the surface. The shuttlecraft shook as high winds buffeted them from side to side, and despite the lingering heat a constant spatter of snow and hail clattered and streaked across the forward viewport. The Mandalorian base was somewhere down there, bearing a few degrees off port if her nav-comp was right.
For the moment, she was flying on instruments only, relying on a suite of lasing and sensing devices to approximate the terrain around them. Luckily for her the base was out in the open, situated in a multi-level complex drilled into one of the planet's immense polar ice-sheets.
She glanced at the altimeter. 500... She punched in the docking codes before gripping the control stick firmly with both hands. 400... 300... With her left foot she pumped the air-brake clutch, closing slats on the planetary engines and directing their thrust forward for a 2-second burst. The ship jolted with the sudden deceleration and she pulled up sharply to level off. 250... 200... She reached up and flipped on the repulsors, then released the air-brake clutch and diverted sublight power to the repulsors. 150... 125... 100... She could make out the landing lights in the distance. They were coming in right on target. 50 meters, level off. She let the shuttle coast on repulsors until they were close enough, then angled the shuttle against the wind and diverted repulsor power to the forward thrusters, letting the rush of the storm slow them down as they came in. 20... 15... 10... She pulled the nose up and fired the repulsors again on full to brake, giving her a second for the landing gear to emerge before they started to descend to the surface. 9... 8... 7... 6... The ground warning alert beeped and a garbled vocoder began to count the numbers. Five. Four. Three. Two. CLANG!
The magnetic docking clamps stuck them firmly to the durasteel landing pad, and Alema sighed with relief. She hadn't noticed but her hands were gripping the stick tighter than ever before. These conditions were nothing like the simulator. No matter how many times she'd run the hurricane approach at the academy it couldn't compare to this. It was exhilarating and terrifying all rolled together.
She got up and headed to the passenger compartment as the landing pad retracted down into the bowels of the base, giving them cover from the snow that had already begun to pile up around the outside of the ship. The short transit down gave her the chance to reconnoiter with her compatriot and check over her gear. For this mission the Lieutenant had been authorized the use of a set of Imperial Covert Dress along with her standard loadout. With any luck, she could get one for her personal use if she earned her stripes here.
She stepped into the cramped troop compartment and gave Lt. Stoker a roguish smile. "Hope that landing woke you up, Lieutenant. We've got to meet our new allies."
@Tetsu @Faster Than Light @Nommie
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