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Starfall: Chapter 1: One Small Step For Mammal Kind

"Experimental space craft-113, this is Joseph at Anamilia Space command, over." A small white glove of a space suit with blue highlights over the fingers reaches out, toggling a switch on a cockpit dashboard. It's purpose Indistinguishable from the many other switches, buttons and nobs to the untrained eye. All nestled in between video screens of various sizes. Each one showing digitized flight gauges, scrolling text from sensors, and for the largest one, just a blank screen with a couple tiny points of dim light.

"Experimental space craft-113 here, Lieutenant Usako speaking. Is there anything you need since the last check in about..." Turning her head to the side, only resulting in a slight movement of her helmet she's wearing from the camera's point of view.

'God damn I'll be glad to get out of this suit. This is the only time I'm not proud of being an arctic fox. They're lucky it's summer, I wouldn't have fit in this suit if I had my winter coat. The next version will hopefully fit a bit better.' Usako mentally mumbles to herself.

"Ten minutes ago? Over." Waiting for their reply, she goes back to paying attention to the text filled screen while flipping various switches and turning nobs to their 'test' setting, then back to on or off, which ever they need to be in right now.

"Yes, a few of us here at mission control would like to know the reason you're going through the system's checklist for" The sound of papers being moved about fills the line for a moment. "The fifth time, Over." Usako twitches her ears and rolls her eyes at their annoyance about her cautionary attitude.

As a test pilot it's her prerogative to be like this. Considering she's sitting in a rather cramped cockpit, in earth orbit, inside the first faster than light space-craft, attached to the inter-national space station. All in all, if something goes wrong she's on her own.

So there's a good reason she's got a bad case of 'something doesn't feel right' and she can't put a paw on what. Yet, every system so far comes up completely and utterly fine, no errors.

"Mission control, I'm just making sure everything will be in working order once the camera's start rolling. Over." The readout screen stops scrolling, completing the test routine while she speaks. Showing all systems are nominal.

'In less than an hour, I'll be the first mammal, and the first fox, to go faster than the speed of light. Putting the stars within reach. That will show him!' Usako sighs and shakes her head within the helmet.

'Stop it! Focus, this isn't flying some new jet fighter. I can't just eject the moment something goes wrong... Granted the cockpit has an ejection seat just in case.' Running a gloved hand over the lever that activates it and the pull bars she's supposed to use first to open the canopy. 'Maybe it's there for me to eject if I can get this craft back into the earth's atmosphere. A rather big assumption considering how far I'm going out.' A click draws her attention back to the radio.

"I'm sure everything will work as intended. Its only been twenty minutes since your initial diagnostic run. Over." The transmission ends with two soft clicks, the traditional sign to go from public radio to private so what's said won't be recorded.

Usako reaches back over and nudges the radio switch further up into a third, unmarked position. Ever since the first mission to the moon, the private radio setting's left unmarked.

"Luetenint Chaosfito, talk to me here. Are you having that gut feeling of yours? We've still got two more windows to do this considering the orbits of Earth, Jupiter, and the old probe. If you want, between this window and the next one we can have them dig a bit deeper into the ship. Your gut's been right before on these matters according to your record." Usako sighs. Yes, it has.

She made a name for herself fresh out of the academy, albeit belatedly due to that stupid Night-Howler scare. Her first task as a newly minted pilot wanting to be a test pilot was to try out a new fighter for the Anamilia Air force. Upon entering the cockpit and starting the engine, something just didn't feel right to her, and she couldn't put a paw on it. Just like now.

It took an hour of arguing with her commanding officer AND the tower for them to allow her to cancel the test flight and taxi it back to the hanger. Whereupon after a full body tear down in the following week as she was on administrative leave, found an improperly attached engine. Too few bolts on the engine and the wrong kind of bolt to boot.

If she had ignored her gut, and taken off, the engine would've sheered its mountings the second she pulled any high speed maneuver in the air.

The following incident report said that she'd sensed the subtle vibrations the improper mounting caused, even though said mountings wouldn't have caused it.

'God damn it Karma... I should follow my gut feeling here, yet if I do that I'll be handing this historic moment over to that fucking pretentious ferret. I can just see the headlines! Cowardly untrustworthy fox chickens out on a historic test flight, proving some of their species do live up to their stereotype, why couldn't she have been like HIM.' Narrowing her eyes, Usako looks over all the gauges and system readouts.

If they say everything's fine, she'll just go with that then.

"Thanks for the offer Joseph, but no. Everything checks out up here, I guess it's just a case of bad nerves. After all, in a few minutes nearly every mammal on earth will be watching me. Only this won't be as easy as taking the first step on the moon." The helmet thankfully hides most of her facial features that would cue those in mission control to her lie.

It also gives her a secondary atmosphere, just in case the one in the cockpit fails.

"To be honest, I'd be worried if you weren't nervous Usako, I kinda worry about Fredrick's mental state. Anyway, we're about five minutes before the camera's start rolling, so no pressure right?." Joseph nervously chuckles as he slides his earphones down to his shoulders, glancing about mission control.

Not as big as the old moonshot days, due to computer programs handling many of the positions mammals did back then, but it is not a small space either. In the back of the room, giving them a wide view of the big display on the front wall are fewer television station news crews than he had hoped would show up for such a historic event.

ZNN is the main one Joseph recognizes, If the skunk with one of their promo hat's is to be believed. Their distant second in ratings rival, ZNA stands right next to them. Other than that, a couple single state only stations, and to keep up with the times, two of the most influential science and technology Pawtube streamers came to watch the launch as well.

No one had to say it when they were handed a memo that instead of a live broadcast, they'd be recorded and time-shifted an hour. Everyone in the mission control knew to keep their mouth's shut and not tell Usako that the horde of reporters she'd been dreaming about since winning the coin toss to be the first pilot, was actually a pawful, if that.

This was one of the personality quirks everyone here had to learn about, and learn how to manage to make a functioning team between the pilot and mission control. Like Fredrick the ferret, he liked to be flattered about every accomplishment and not talked down too.

Maybe he has a napoleon complex?

Usako on the other paw hated, absolutely hated, not having her accomplishments duly recognized, no matter how small. Saying nothing would set off her temper to the point everyone who deals with her has learned to at least give minor congratulations when she does something good. Personally, he just thought Usako has an inferiority complex, centered around that celebrity fox that's been in the news for the past three years.

A view that was cemented for Joseph last month when one of the radio techs here mentioned Nicholas Wilde while Usako's radio was on as they were going through a dry run in the hanger.

Still, her military flight record is beyond reproach, giving her some leeway in the behavior department. Her several minute long rant following it would've otherwise canned her from the program.

God help us if they invite him and Judy Hopps to congratulate Usako upon her return. Considering they're now considered Anamilia's poster mammal cops.

Similarly, everyone in the room has been sworn to secrecy against telling her the fact the originally planned 'live' broadcast, has been shifted back an hour. No network wanted to postpone their prime time programs like Anamilia's Got Talent.

Joseph's put his name down in the informal betting pool, that if Usako does find out, she'll drop the test craft AND the International Space Station down onto the studio.

Personally he'd find it amusing to watch, still, everyone figured it'd be easier to lie to Usako until after the flight. Then let her bask in all the attention she'll get afterwards, it'll keep her focused on the mission. Easier to ask for forgiveness than permission and all that.

It's a shame watching a mammal make history seems to not be much of a ratings draw compared to the moon landing, which happened well before Joseph born. Yet, these same networks will be all over her and us after the fact, acting like they were watching every step of the way he sourly laments. Damn parasites.

Sighing he puts his earphones over his ears again, then does the traditional single soft click to signal Usako to switch back to the normal radio channel.

Her gloved paw dutifully reaches over and moves the radio switch down one notch to its normal and official setting.

"Mission control, this is the International Space Station, over." Both Usako and Joseph put on their professional faces as the high-pitched and squeaky voice of a small bunny joins the radio chatter.

'After this, they'll have to allow mammals larger than rabbits into space... I mean, I understand logistically why they, mice and gerbils were the first. You have to carry EVERYTHING up with you, so if you're already small with minuscule needs, then that makes it simpler to do so.' Musing over this as she glances back over to the entrance hatch and the few hours she spent in that cramped station stinking of lapine.

"This is Mission Control, we read you International Space Station, over." Usako and Joseph both know what's scripted to happen next. As the clock approaches one minute they go through the official motions of separation, even though they tested all the systems before this and found them working. Finding no reason to call off the mission.

It's all show for the camera's, in the theatrical sense and the official record sense too.

"We are one minute from separation of the Experimental Space-Craft 113 and mission start." The International Space Station announces over the line. Usako and Joseph glance at their respective clocks. With the seconds counting down, all the three run down their respective checklists officially.

T-minus fifteen seconds. Usako finishes hers but stays quiet until Mission Control speaks per protocol.

"This is mission control, we are a go for separation." T-minus ten seconds. As scripted, Mission control goes first, Usako muses.

"This is the Experimental Space-Craft-113, confirming your status. We are a go for separation." Tightly griping the flight stick, the gloves of Usako's space suit make odd creaking noises against the plastic handle.

"Five, Four, Three, Two, One. Go for separation." Joseph calls out the last few seconds as he keeps his eyes glued to the all the various readouts and data streams coming from the experimental craft, displayed on the big screen.

The sounds of tubes and various things detaching including clamps for the craft echo through Usako's and the International Space Station's radio.

Even the video feed shakes a little, none of them are alarmed at it though. This was expected as the procedure ends at T-Plus twenty seconds.

"Experimental Space Craft-113 here, separation is successful, she's now under her own power. All systems are green." Glancing back at their small media audience Joseph flicks an ear. He can tell they've started recording, everything from here on will be shown to the world.

Usako meanwhile is fighting the confines of her space suit to allow her tail to wag from her excitement of the whole situation.

'Yes! Here we go. I'm about to make history.' Only most of her grin's hidden from the camera's view by her helmet.

"Experimental Space-Craft-113 come in. This is International Space Station, uh, please maneuver to our six-o'clock, so we can start the final visual inspection, over." That annoying high-pitched bunny voice pulls Usako from her moment of self celebration, causing her to sigh.

Before she can go through the faster than light attempt proper, they have to double check nothing went wrong during detachment. Understandable because computers and the various sensors on the craft can't pick everything up.

A bit of a rubber seal, part of a hose, or even denting of an exterior panel by the dock clamps themselves could force her to abort this attempt, giving the glory to the ferret.

As much as she would hate it, the former could dislodge and damage the ship as she accelerates the craft. The latter could cause part of the ship to come off, doing pretty much the same thing. Not to mention she has no desire to go through those scenarios she went through many times in the simulator.

Not all of them ended with her 'alive' after all. She does take pride that her death count was lower than Fredrick's.

'If they just set up a bunch of external cameras rather than this single viewport one, I could do this myself.' Usako mentally grumbles to herself while maneuvering craft by instruments alone to the desired location.

"This is Experimental Space-Craft-113, approaching your six-o'clock International Space Station as requested. How does she look? Over." For a few tense moments both Joseph and Usako hold their breath. It's all up to the International Space Station to either give them a green light or cost Usako her spot of fame for being the first mammal to go faster than light.

Not to mention it will also cost the Anamilia Space Agency at least eight figures for a scrubbed Faster Than Light attempt.

'I'm going to personally strangle that rabbit if he scrubs this for no reason. Sure it will get me kicked out of the service, but it might be worth it.' Usako's hands tighten on the control stick at the thought of this as she waits for them to reply.

"Experimental Space-Craft-113 and Mission control. She's as clean as a bunny kit's behind. You're clear for the test flight Usako. May serendipity and the other gods be with you, over." Usako and Jospeh both let out the breath they were holding.

It's now T-Plus Five minutes and counting.

"Experimental Space-Craft-113, acknowledged. Connecting to the radiological thermal reactor, starting up the ion engines, Over." Usako's takes one hand and hovers a finger over the related controls.

"Mission Control here, I have a go for the reactor and engine start, over." Flipping the switches with ease that only comes from hours of practice in a simulator. Usako activates the connection to the radiological thermal generator, as you can't technically turn one off once built. The ship then directs the power to the Ion engines.

"Moving to the designated safe minimum distance, mission control, over." What's not picked up by Usako's mic is the hum of the capacitors and coil whine of the electronics connecting the two systems.

As her hand returns to the flight stick, whatever power isn't sent to the Ion Engines, internal batteries, and instruments, is sent to a completely separate set of high capacity and high voltage capacitors. Each one in each of the craft's four wings.

It makes the craft look like a giant lawn dart with the wings in the back, the long cylindrical fuselage, and the tapered point front where the cockpit is. Since the surface's made out of air-craft aluminum, it's also has a silvery shine.

'A giant, flying silver dart,' Usako mentally sighs. 'At least it looks better than the kitty-hawk airplane.' She turns her attention back to the task at hand.

With a few silent puffs of the small gas maneuvering thrusters, Usako backs the craft away from the International Space Station and rotates it so the nose points in the direction of Jupitor. Her limited view of everything made and housing mammal kind and what little of it she's been able to see via the monitor, is replaced again by inky blackness.

All because the camera it's using has an aperture too small to catch all the faint star-light that she knows is out there.

The same fact of physics doing this has fueled conspiracies that the moon landing never happened.

'I hope the manufacturer gets fined for not having the canopy ready as they promised. It's supposed to be transparent aluminum, but no they promised more than they could deliver, and the ship had to have a steel and aluminum canopy hastily attached. To make it so that I could see out, they also attached a camera connected to a spare desktop monitor. I'll be the first mammal to go faster than light and I won't be able to see it with my own eyes.' Huffing once as Usako waits for the Ion Engines to complete their job.

As the mission clock hits T-plus Fifteen minutes, Usako reaches up, flips a switch to deactivate the Ion-Engines. With them off, Usako uses the chemical thrusters to flip the craft over and point back to the earth. Hitting the timer button she then turns the Ion-Engines back on to work on slowing the craft down. All the while she can't look away from the monitor in front of her.

'Not quite at the faint blue dot point, but it's just damn beautiful. All mammal kind, on that single blue, green, and white sphere. They better appreciate the trail I'm about to blaze.' With nothing else to do while she waits. Usako just watches as the sphere slowly stops getting smaller, till it becomes roughly the size of a marble on her screen.

A beep of the timer alerts her and Usako reaches up to quickly shut off the Ion-Engines, having done their job at countering their earlier thrust and stopping the craft at the desired point in space.

T-Plus twenty Five minutes and counting.

"Mission control, this is Lieutenant Usako. I've reached the minimum safe distance, and I will be flipping the craft towards the target, over." Usako takes a few breaths as she stares at the marble sized earth on the screen, then uses the chemical thrusters to point the craft at Jupiter.

"This is Mission Control, we read you Experimental Space-Craft-113. Acknowledged and waiting for status of your systems." Joseph's watches the readout's on the giant screen. Gauges tick higher as the craft's radiological thermal generator continues to fill the super-capacitors.

It feels like an eternity for Usako, but only a short few minutes later, four green lights blink on. Each one indicating one of the banks of super-capacitors are fully charged and are ready to be used.

"Mission Control, Lieutenant Usako here. Super-Capacitors charged at." Uako looks at the mission clock on the instrument panel. "T-Plus twenty-five minutes, over." Joseph takes a step back with his headphones still on, sparing a glance at their media presence as the ZNN skunk moves closer to the big screen.

'Point of no return, here we go.' Looking around, Joseph makes eye contact at each mammal at each control station. It's an unofficial check before he verbally starts the official one, and each have given a thumb or hoof up.

T-Plus Twenty-Seven minutes.

"This is Joseph, Director for mission control. Are go or no go for engine ignition?" Joseph looks at each station again as they verbally confirm for the official record what they non-verbally did a moment ago.

This time each one naming their name, position, and station.

"Lieutenant Usako, this is Mission control, we are a go for engine start." Usako had already flipped open the red and white striped cover for the five most important switches in the ship before they even finished doing the official check.

T-Plus Thirty minutes.

Four to close the four mechanical electrical lines between the super-capacitors and the Faster Than Light engine. Up to this point only tested on un-mammaled probes.

The final one, and the largest. Will dump all that current into a spec of a newly discovered exotic mineral.

'I'd feel better if I knew what exactly was going to happen, that's above my pay-grade. Last time I tried to read the papers describing the why and how this works, I almost got a headache. I just hope they're right and I don't end up inside a black hole.' One hand hovers over the first four switches, the other keys in the mic.

T-Plus Thirty-one minutes.

"Mission Control, this is Lieutenant Usako in the experimental Space-Craft-113, acknowledged. Flipping the first four switches." Each one she flips causes a dull clunk to resonate through the ship. Servo-motors, active and fighting against compression of the cabling between the Super-Capacitors and the engine shut off. The sound resulting from the now free cable connecting and completing the potential circuit.

A red flashing led turns on just below the fifth switch, Usako's hand hovering over it.

T-Plus Thirty-one minutes and thirty seconds.

"Lieutenant Usako to mission control..." Usako pauses...

'What am I going to say? What should I say? I don't want to showboat and do a grand speech like Fredrick had planned. It should be something simple like lance Hopstrong.' Then smiles when she decides on it.

"I'll see you on the other side Mission Control." Taking a breath, Usako flips the final switch.

T-Plus Thirty-two minutes.

The ship, does just as it was designed to do, the moment Usako flipped the switch. All four Super-Capacitors dumped every amp of electricity they'd stored into a mineral sphere no larger than a pea. Multiplying it, along with the mass of the ship to the point space-time bent.

In a controlled way mind you by microsecond or shorter adjustments to the electrical current, so that the bending of space-time would slip them into a region just outside of reality. Where distance and acceleration worked differently.

Usako and the ship disappear from all video screens in mission control with a flash of light.

'May Serendipity look over you Usako.' Joseph mentally prays, turning his attention from the now dead sensor readings to the mission clock, counting down the seconds.

'Eight minutes, That's all the time it will take for Usako to get there. A trip that took just over two years for that old probe using inertia and chemical propellant. Then it was six months for a later probe heading to the kipper belt to reach the same point using the then new Ion-Engines. Of course, we'll have to wait another forty-eight minutes for the probe's radio signal to reach us.' Sitting down and taking off his headphones, Joseph taps one hoof on the table while he rests his head in between his antlers with his three digit hand.

Looking around the room as the clock strikes the eight-minute mark at the T-Plus Forty minutes. The ZNN skunk is interviewing the life support director over the difficulties of keeping an atmosphere for a mammal as large as a fox, as the ZNA crew gossip with the video bloggers.

Eventually, even the ZNN reporter decides to spend the time browsing his phone as the minutes tick by.

'God Dammit, why did my wife convince me to quit smoking? I could use a pack or two right about now to calm my nerves... The next thing those physicists that came up with the FTL drive can do is make a faster way to communicate, the wait is killing me and I have at least one more flight to go through as that ferret uses the drive to go to Saturn.' Lamenting to himself as he sits there, tapping his hoof tip.

At T-Plus Eighty-Seven minutes, Joseph stands and puts his headphones back on. Signaling everyone to go back into their professional mode, even the reporters.

When the mission clock ticks over to T-Plus Eighty-Eight minutes, Joseph points to the comm station. Signaling him to turn on the feed from the old probe up to the front screen. It flicks over to a black and white view of Jupiter from a long range orbit.

Only, nothing, other than the slow swirling of the gas giant's clouds. Joseph waits, standing there for something to appear. Only for a sinking feeling in his belly to form.

T-Plus Ninety-Six minutes.

'I am SO screwed....' With shaking hoofs Joseph lowers his headphones. Ears and face pale under his fur, then raises the mic to his mouth to say the most dreaded words a director can say.

"This is Joseph, Director of Mission Control. Lock the doors, get the media out of here!" Joseph just hopes he still has a job after the inquiry's done with him.

As for Usako, unlike Joseph, she didn't have to wait nearly an hour for things to go sideways. It happened the instant she flipped the last switch and entered FTL space.

'God Damn Karma. The one thing, the ONE THING we were never trained for just HAD to happen. Come on WORK!' In the colorful swirl of FTL space looms a giant dull brown multi segmented ship. Completely alien to Usako as she tries desperately to get her ship's chemical thrusters, and Ion Engines to work.

With each segment a rounded rectangle dozens of feet across, each one connected by wide cylinders, almost the same diameter as the segments. Bulges, or indents seem peppered randomly over the hull of each segment, along with some antenna and other things she can't visually recognize. It's obvious whatever it is and whomever is piloting it, the ship wasn't designed to leave the confines of space.

What's worse though is she's on a collision course for it!

As for said alien craft, they too never trained for the event of running into, literally, an alien craft. The shinning dart causing alarms to ring though the bridge with the captain ordering evasive maneuvers.

Him ordering the pilots to fire the maneuvering engines ends up being mute as the pilots, out of muscle memory, have already fired them. All for naught though, the alien ship is moving too fast for them to get out of the way in time.

All they change is the point of impact, from the captains quarters bellow the bridge, to the bridge itself. A couple of the less senior officers try and fail to make a run for it. Barely even making it half-way to the bridge exit.

The lower fin of Usako's craft piercing both the real-space bubble around the ship, and the roof of the bridge. Exposing all inside to the paradox that is FTL space while the bulkheads slam shut in an attempt to save the rest of the ship.

FTL space is airless and a vacuum like real space, so while the crew of the bridge instantly suffocate. They're also both instantaneously deep-fried like being dropped into plasma, and flash frozen like being exposed to deep space far from any star. At least death was instantaneous, so they felt no pain in this split second.

Even to the human civilization this crew belongs to, this fact of FTL space is still a scientific puzzle.

Alarms blare in both the Human craft, and Usako's ship. The impact leaves the former effectively decapitated, without computer control. As Usako still tries to regain control of her craft while silencing alarms.

The impact having dramatically slowed her craft down and sending it into an end over end tumble. As far as Usako can tell, the collision's ripped off the lower fin, taking the super-capacitor bank with it and exposing part of the engine and the radiothermal generator. Her ship floats listlessly and too close for comfort to the Human craft.

Which she gets an eye full every few seconds when the nose points at it along with the debris of metal and now unidentifiable figures from the bridge crew.

'Normally the ship would've ejected me with the cockpit section. Except I was told it wouldn't if anything happened in FTL space as the engine is keeping me here. That way when the engine returns to real-space, I'll return with it.' Usako muses as she finally manages to silence the alarms telling her the obvious damage, considering she can see the missing parts on the view-screen.

What Usako doesn't know is that almost everything except the absolute largest pieces will return to real-space eventually, with the large pieces being more violently thrust back than smaller ones. For the Human ship in front of her, it means the giant craft will be torn apart as only parts of it will return to real-space.

The Human engineers, knowing this, designed the ship with escape pods. Barely larger than an average person while containing all the needed supplies for several days of survival in space.

Or a longer time if they manage to make it to a livable planet.

'What are those?' Usako pauses as the alien ship comes into view, watching as just under a dozen escape pods jettison from the craft and spend a portion of their FTL-space capable thrusters to get as far away from the ship as possible. Least they're torn apart by its violent return to real-space.

Usako's curiosity turns to horror, just as her ship starts to rotate out of view, she sees one of them on a direct course for her ship. Shortly after the alien ship is out of view Usako's helmet hits the view-screen. Knocking it slightly out of place due to the momentum of the escape pod slamming into the belly of her craft.

Unknown to both Usako, nor the humans. Such a collision of two almost equally massed objects in FTL space with weak real-space bubbles around them, causes said bubbles to act kinda like soap bubbles.

Merging, mixing and exchanging their contents. For a moment Usako thinks she's woozy due to the hit to head, but it's the human's real-space bubble swapping mostly with hers. Then the thrusters on the escape pod fire again. Programmed to get the pod away from any debris.

Slamming Usako back into her seat as they launch the two craft apart at high speed. Only for the bubbles to collapse moments later, sending all but the largest chunks of the alien ship back into real-space with a bright flash of light.

The uncontrolled drop back into real-space acts like if one would belly flop hard onto a body of water. Passing through Usako's padding and personal protection. Knocking her unconscious and bruising her entire body.