Captain Scarlett Saves Mars!

© 2024 Duleigh Lawrence-Townshend. All rights reserved. The author asserts the right to be identified as the author of this story for all portions. All characters are original. Any resemblance to anyone living or dead is purely coincidental. This story or any part thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the expressed written permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a review or commentary.

This story was written for the 2024 Geek Pride Event. My previous Geek Pride entries are

The Gate

, an Anime Fanfiction, and

Enchantress

, an homage to Sir Terry Pratchett and his marvelous discworld.

This time I'm sharing my first love - Classic Science Fiction. You know the stuff, not the Star Wars or Star Trek fairy tales, but science fiction, with genuine science built in. It's a space opera written in the form of those great science fiction stories we got in pulp magazines and radio dramas in the 40s and 50s. This is the stuff I grew up on. I suppose this would be called retro-future fiction.

Captain Scarlett Saves Mars!

The Asimov Plan

Will the Asimov Plan save the Martian colonies?

February 12, 2156

TO:

Ray Clark, President of Mars

SUBJECT:

Jezero Crater

I've been following the water problems on Mars, and I have an idea that

will

work. I know it's been years since I lived on Mars, but it's still home to me, and you are family. The attached document lays out the detailed plan, and I've attached the chief engineer's comments. Please let me do this, Uncle Ray. I have the equipment and the people, and the funding is rolling in. I can't stand by and watch every colony on Mars shut down because of this water shortage. All I need from you is a place to work, and Jezero Crater would be perfect.

Signed:

Alan Scarlett

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

February 27, 2156

TO:

Alan B. Scarlett, Captain, Western Alliance Navy

SUBJECT:

Jezero Crater

Your plan is audacious and terrifying at the same time. It's crazy, but I think if anyone can pull it off, it would be you. I ran it through the political meat grinder, and everyone agrees, it's a million to one shot. No one has ever done anything like your plan describes and three quarters of the Martian senate says it's impossible. But as everyone knows, a million to one shot pays off nine times out of ten. Let's do it. At this point, Mars has nothing to lose and everything to gain. I'll be on Earth for colonial conferences from June first to the fifteenth. Let's get together and get the ball rolling on the Jezero Lake Project. (You name for the plan, The Azimov Plan, doesn't score well in marketing groups)

Can't wait to see you Al, it's been far too long. Will Pandora be there?

Signed: Ray Clark, President of Mars

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

NSS Glenn September 30, 2156

Equatorial Atlantic Ocean

Lieutenant Scott Anders, call sign Fleagle, was late to his pre-flight. The mission briefing for a simple hop to Armstrong Station at Lunar Lagrange point One went on longer than normal. The Navy wanted to ensure that Fleagle got his VIP, Very Important Passenger, to Armstrong safe and on time. After suiting up in Life Support section, Fleagle stepped out onto the deck of the NSS Glenn, the first (and finest) Western Alliance Navy spacecraft carrier.

The launch window was an hour wide, and didn't open for another 30 minutes, giving him plenty of time to do a preflight inspection on his U-700 series lunar shuttle. Along with his flight engineer Master Chief Petty Officer Carl White, Scott Anders, and Spacecraft Boatswain's Mate (Launch) AB3, Sandra Magnus started the preflight check on the Air/Space craft before his VIP arrived and got in his way.

Landing gear, wings, fins, stabs, heat shields, solar panels all check good. Access panels closed, fuel probes removed, oxygen is being loaded, the exterior is ready. He noticed some red shirt "Ordies" up on the backbone. As far as Scott knows, the U-700 doesn't have a weapons system, so why were ordnance men up on the backbone? He entered the access hatch way down almost under the plane and climbed the ladder behind the engineer's and navigator's positions to the upper deck, where he closed the ladder hatch.

The ladder came up in the kitchen area and he made sure there were rations for three and coffee for six (that's how it usually works out on shuttle flights) then worked his way forward. The U-700 had eight seats on the upper deck, six passengers, pilot, and co-pilot. On this hop, there was no co-pilot or navigator on the schedule which cut down on weight.

He moved forward, then realized there was someone in the co-pilot seat. He looked and Lieutenant Anders saw his VIP sitting in the right-hand seat waiting for him.

Jet black hair with a touch of gray at the temples, steel hard square jaw, straight nose, black eyepatch on the right eye, bright, piercing blue left eye. There was a scar that ran down his forehead, under his patch, and continued to his cheek. The savior of the Luna 03 colony, commander of the outnumbered but victorious Western Alliance Space Forces in the battle of Lagrange 4, first Mars born colonist to rise to the command ranks in the Western Alliance Navy, first pilot to make the Terra-Luna run in under 24 hours, first spaceman to land on all four inner planets... the list of Captain Alan Scarlett's accomplishments along with those of his squadron, the Strike Force Berserkers, the best pilots in the solar system, was unfathomable.

Captain Scarlett looked up from his reading and said, "Permission to come aboard, sir?" His baritone voice was strong but just loud enough to be heard above the shrieking support equipment as oxygen was pumped aboard the U-700.

"P-p-permission granted," said Anders, then he climbed into the pilot's seat.

"I hope this isn't inconvenient for you," said Captain Scarlett, regarding his sitting in the co-pilot seat. "The boys who helped me aboard said it wouldn't be a bother." It would be more accurate to say that Captain Scarlett was carried and lifted aboard rather than helped aboard. He was sure he would be ok when he got to the weightlessness of space.

"No, that's fine, sir. Wherever you are more comfortable."

As Lieutenant Anders went over the pre-flight check of the instruments, a ground troop climbed the ladder to the right side cockpit and placed a helmet on Captain Scarlett and connected his suit to life support. A click of a switch and the magnetic latches built into Captain Scarlett's space suit locked onto the ejection seat of the U-700. Western Alliance Navy space suits had built-in seat belts. As all of this happened, Captain Scarlett calmly read his classified mission brief,

The Asimov Plan

. He liked that name better than the Jezero Lake Project, but Uncle Ray gets what Mars wants.

Now the pre-launch checks began. Out on the deck, the plane captain read off the engine start checklist, and Lieutenant Anders verified the switch positions.

"Primary Solar Panels stowed and locked..."

"Stowed... locked..."

"ACG off."

"ACG to... off."

"VHF antenna retracted and locked..."

"Retracted... locked."

"C and D Actuator safe and sealed..."

"C and D... C and D..." Lieutenant Anders looked around for the nob, lever, dial, or switch for the C and D Actuator. He knew where it was, but he didn't know what it was for. He was always told, "it's for future use." Scott Anders checked that switch a hundred times, but for some reason today he's unable to find it. Without looking up from his mission brief, Captain Scarlett reached out with his left hand and pointed to a three-position switch on the pilot's lower right-hand console. The switch had a safety cover and today the cover was sealed with wire and sealed closed with a crimped lead seal. The lieutenant had never seen that before. "C and D Actuator safe and sealed," said Lieutenant Anders.

"That does it, we're ready to go. Coming aboard," said the plane captain and flight engineer, Master Chief Petty Officer Carl White. He crawled into the lower access hatch, sealed the hatch, then took his seat in the lower engineering compartment. Chief White has a doctorate in Spacecraft Engineering and Propulsion from the prestigious Belgian Institute of Technology, but has turned down every commission he was offered. He wanted to "keep his hands dirty" by working directly on the spacecraft. Captain Scarlett wants him on the team. He squeezed into the engineer's seat, put on his helmet and locked his suit in place, then rotated around to view his control board. "Greyhound Zero One is configured for flight, Lieutenant."

"Thank you master chief," said Lieutenant Anders, then he got on the radio. "NSS Glenn Space Boss, this is Greyhound Zero One. Pre-flight checks are complete, we are ready whenever you are."

"Roger Greyhound Zero One, stand by." A moment later a small truck and several sailors ducked under the nose of the U-700 and connected a towbar to the nose wheel and the little truck pulled the orbital shuttle forward, centering the spacecraft on the flight deck, then it pushed it back until the six-wheel trucks of the main landing gear were at the very edge of the deck and between the clamps. Those clamps grabbed the landing gear, holding the U-700 steady. The flight deck team made one last inspection of the underside of Greyhound Zero One, then disconnected the tow bar and headed back to the Island. The flight deck supervisor gave Lieutenant Anders a sharp salute, then pointed to the bow and dashed off.

As the push truck and the sailors dashed into a garage at the base of the island tower, alarm horns began blaring. Water in the ballast tanks began shifting aft in the enormous ship. The main aft ballast tanks began sucking in hundreds of gallons of sea water and slowly, as the alarms blared, the bow of the massive NSS Glenn rose into the sky. Deliberately, the stern of the massive flat top lowered until the flight deck was just a meter above the roiling surface of the ocean. The flight deck was now sitting at an angle, pointing upward at 35 degrees. "Greyhound Zero One, the deck is clear. You are go for engine start."

"Roger Glenn space boss. Starting engines one through four now," answered Lieutenant Anders. Then to the plane captain down in engineering he said, "Let's wake 'em up master chief."

"Aye aye sir. Here comes number one." Lieutenant Anders watched as, one by one, the gauges on his instrument panel showed the engines coming online. When each of the most powerful atmosphere rated spacecraft engines ever built came online, the noise and shaking quadrupled. The only clue that Captain Scarlett was aware of what was going on was that he put the mission folder in the map slot next to him and rested his hands on the handgrips.

The U-700 began shaking as it strained against the magnetic clamps that held it in place. It gave a banshee howl that was the calling card of the feisty orbital shuttle. The shaking was so bad that Lt. Anders could barely read his instruments. "NSS Glenn space boss, this is Greyhound Zero One." Anders shouted so he could hear himself over the noise. "All engines are at one hundred percent. We are A-OK for launch. I repeat, A-OK for launch."

Behind the NSS Glenn, the four air-breathing engines of the U-700 were churning and boiling the ocean, steam and sprayed water shot high into the sky. The massive United Reaction series J-74 engines were powerful enough to push the NSS Glenn forward. To counter that, the ship's six turboshaft driven screws were spinning in full reverse to hold the NSS Glenn in position for launch.

Captain Bluford, the space boss, also known as the supervisor of flying, answered the Lieutenant. "Greyhound Zero One, you are number one on the runway. Have a pleasant flight."

"Roger Glenn." Lieutenant Anders gave his instruments one last check, then said, "head, hands, and feet." Magnetic clamps locked onto the steel pieces in the three men's helmets, gloves, and boots, holding them secure so they don't accidentally hit or kick a switch or lever during the launch. Lieutenant Anders' only free appendage was his right thumb. He flicked up a switch cover at the end of his magnetic hand grip and pushed down a button. As he did that, the magnetic catapult grabbed the U-700 and the wheel locks released. They were suddenly pulling eight G's rocketing skyward as the catapult slung them off the ship.

"Ok, let's level her up," said Captain Bluford as Greyhound Zero One roared away into the cloudless sky. Ballast tanks in the stern of the NSS Glenn blew water out and transfer water to the bow ballast tanks. Soon, the bow of the ship settled down into the ocean and the flight deck returned to level. "Ok, let's get Greyhound zero four up on deck, it launches in two hours."

On the rapidly climbing Greyhound zero one, as soon as the stubby wings stopped producing lift, they were retracted, and the nose came up. The magnetic holds released, and the occupant's hands were freed, and Captain Scarlett opened the mission brief again. The noise was tremendous from those four United Reaction series J-74 engines. At forty miles up they hit Max Q, and it felt like a dog had grabbed the ship and was shaking it like a rat, but that abated after a few moments. As the atmosphere thinned, the main booster engine, a United Reactions series N-50, lit with a bang and Master Chief White throttled up the engine to 110% while the air breathing J-74 engines shut down and closed their intakes.

Four minutes after launch and one thousand miles up, the main engine shutdown. The release of G forces almost felt like crashing into a brick wall, but in a moment they were weightless. Lieutenant Anders extended the VHF antenna and made a call. "Navy control, this is Greyhound Zero One. All indications are nominal. We have reached planned altitude."

"Roger Greyhound Zero One, you are go for two orbits before Trans Lagrange Interface. Millenium hand and Shrimp. Navy Out."

"Crap," muttered Lt. Anders. Millenium hand was a coded order to secure all conversations, give nothing away about the mission. Shrimp was the code word for SSM, Surface to Space Missiles. And that wasn't all. "We were scheduled for four orbits, can you get this thing ready to go in two orbits, Master Chief White?" asked Lieutenant Anders. After launch, the navigational equipment is double and triple checked, then the mission parameters are programmed into the navigation computer.

"Not a problem sir, let's not top off the batteries as planned until we break orbit. Extending the solar panels increases our radar cross section two hundred percent."

Anders glanced over at Captain Scarlett, who didn't look up from his mission brief. "The Eastern Bloc. They don't want us up here," said Alan Scarlett as he turned a page.

"Why not?" asked Anders.

The answer to that question is classified, so Scarlett said. "I don't know, it must have been something you said to your Hawaiian girlfriend last week."

"Wait, what? How do you know about her...?" Lanh couldn't be an Eastern Block spy, could she? But Captain Scarlett answered with a raised finger as he went back to reading.

Soon they were passing over the southern portion of the Eastern Bloc. The Electronic counter measure equipment lit up, long range radar waves washed over Greyhound zero one. "They're painting us sir," said Chief White.

Captain Scarlett looked up from his reading and pointed to a switch. "Hit that."

"That just calibrates our cameras, sir," said Lt. Anders.

"Yep, if they're listening to us It will make us look like a weather satellite," said Master Chief White. "Will it fool them?"

"It can't hurt to try," said Captain Scarlett. "It won't cost us anything either."

Lieutenant Anders calibrated the U-700's landing camera system and the radar probing eventually stopped. "It worked once, will it work again?" asked Chief White.

"Probably not," said Scarlett, and he turned back to his mission data. "We're on an equatorial Low Earth Orbit, there's no satellites on this route." He casually put his mission outline back in the map pocket. "We have ninety minutes."

Time passed as Chief White and Lieutenant Anders verified systems and configured the ship for space flight. Captain Scarlett released his magnetic seat restraints and floated up and then headed aft through the upper cockpit. It felt so good to be away from the gravity well of Earth. He loves the place, so much water! But his new joints ache in 1 G or higher gravity. He drifted back and saw that five of the passenger seats were filled with cargo. He drifted back to the galley; it was merely a small oven and coffeemaker, it also had toilet facilities and a fold-down seat for an extra passenger. But the floor of the galley slid to the side, revealing a hatch allowing him to drop to the engineers' and navigator's stations. On these short hop shuttles, the navigating was done by the pilot working with the navigator. The co-navigator's seat was normally empty, but occasionally a passenger would ride here. There was also a seat for an instructor navigator allowing the U-700 to carry up to ten passengers.

Alan Scarlett started mirroring Chief White's actions on a secondary, older style navigation system in the co-navigator's section. "We're not going to use that system, sir," said Master Chief White.

"Aww come on, humor me Chief. I used to navigate on an old U-562 series tramp shuttle. I like to stay in practice."

"No problem sir," chuckled the old engineer, and he let Captain Scarlett have his fun. Chief White took the classified data drive from the safe and plugged it into the navigation computer and uploaded the mission data. When he was done, Captain Scarlett took the hard drive and plugged it into the secondary navigation system, and started loading data.

Soon they were passing over the Eastern Bloc territory again, coming up on Riau Island. In 2095, the Eastern Bloc evacuated all three million residents of the Riau Islands, then sterilized the islands with nerve gas to insure no one remained behind. There, the Eastern Bloc set up their primary starbase, Dendam, which means "Revenge." It's their primary launching sites for manned spacecraft, satellites, and Surface to Space Missiles.

"They're painting us again," said Chief White. "I see a launch. Crap! I see an SSM-127 rising. Time to contact three minutes."

As Captain Scarlett reviewed the radar scope, Lieutenant Anders called out, "I'm open to any suggestions you may have, Captain." Anders's options were tiny. Regardless of what they say in a thousand pulp magazines and ten thousand Saturday morning videos, you don't maneuver in orbit. If you slow down, you drop to your death. If you speed up, you are cast out into open space with little hope of finding your way home.

"C and D actuator to C" said Captain Scarlett as he continued his navigational calculations.

"Aye aye sir!" Lieutenant Anders broke the seal on the switch cover and moved the three-position switch to C, and his multifunctional display showed: "CHAFF ROCKETS LAUNCHED."

From somewhere between the huge United Reaction series J-74 booster engines, four small rockets shot out, traveling straight back where they exploded in a cloud of tiny aluminum strips that reflected the SSM-127's search radar back to the seeker head, confusing the surface to space missile momentarily.