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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2303224-Orbit-One
Rated: E · Short Story · Other · #2303224
A short story set in space. Feedback appreciated.
Orbit One



The Earth had never looked as beautiful. John paused and watched as the eastern seaboard of The United States of America came into view. The turquoise waters and white sand beaches of Chesapeake Bay were a stark contrast to the rich ocean blue of the North Atlantic. Swirls of light clouds floated above the water; the eastern states were waking to a fine day.

His thoughts turned to that of his wife and 10-year-old daughter. Jess would be getting Ellie ready for school, brushing out the tangles in her long blonde hair. God, she hates her mother doing that. ‘Ouch! You’re being too rough. Dad brushes it nicely.’ Her voice echoed through his mind as tears began to pool around his eyes, blurring his vision. John gently shook his head and watched as the droplets dispersed, floating around his helmet like tiny shimmering crystals. He closed his eyes briefly, took a deep breath to compose himself, and then turned to face the shuttle. He had a job to do.

Three days had passed since the crew of Orbit One had eaten a decent meal. Rations were running low, but food and water were not the most pressing issue.

Their mission was routine maintenance and scheduled as a short flight: Dock at the satellite station, update the system's hardware, and return to the Earth. The shuttle carried enough food and water for 14 days and oxygen for another four. A mission of this sort should take around 7. The crew of Orbit One had now been in space for 15 days.

John made his way to the shuttle’s nose, always keeping one hand firmly on the ship. One false move here, one accidental slip and John would be sent drifting off into the emptiness of space with no way back.

Once at the nose, he made the climb to the cockpit window. Sitting alone in the pilot’s seat, her head in her hands, was the shuttle’s second in command. John turned on his radio and called out to her. “Lacey? Are you ready to go?” She raised her head and looked around. He could see that she had been crying; her eyes were red and puffy, and her sleeves were damp with tears. “Lacey?” This time, she noticed him at the window and put on the headset.

The radio crackled briefly, and then came her voice. “Please, John,” the words seemed to catch in her throat, “I... I can’t do this.” She began to sob quietly.

“You can, and you will. That’s why you’re my second. You must stay strong now, Lacey; you have to stay strong for the others. Call them; it’s time.”

“Yes, Captain.” The radio crackled once more as she switched channels. A short while after, the other crew members entered the cockpit.

Jessie, the youngest crew member at only 26, reached his seat and strapped in. He saw John at the window but kept his head low, avoiding eye contact. Jessie was the joker of the group, always clowning around and pulling pranks, but right now, he was a shadow of that man. With his straps secured, he sat motionless, staring at the floor.

The final crew member, a tough old ex-marine from Fort Lauderdale, glanced at John through the glass as he marched over to Lacey. He gave her shoulder a comforting squeeze, spoke reassuringly, and then gently removed the headset from her head and placed it on his own. “Hey, Cap,” the veteran nodded in John’s direction.

“Daryl.” John returned the gesture.

“You know you don’t have to do this; we came here as….”

“You know I do.” John cut him off before he could say another word. He turned to look at the Earth once more. Sunrise was slowly creeping across the Gulf of Mexico, and to the north, he could see the Great Lakes, Michigan, Huron, Ontario, Eerie, and Superior, all bathed in the morning light. We’re running out of time.

“It has been an honour,” John said, still gazing at the world's beauty. “There are over 7 billion people down there, and yet, there is not a single one that I would pick above any of you.” He turned back to the cockpit window and asked to speak with Lacey. “They are your crew now and couldn’t ask for a finer captain. Take them home, Lacey. Keep them safe.”

“I will, John… I promise.” She dropped the headset onto the console and began to weep. Daryl stood motionless, his eyes fixed upon his captain, his friend. Jessie looked up. His eyes were full of tears.

John was not the type for long goodbyes, and with one last glance at each of the crew, he pressed an open hand against the glass and then headed for the docking station.


A chill washed over him as he studied the manual override panel. This was it, the only way for the shuttle to depart.

The crew had spent the best part of ten days trying to fix the station’s command unit to no avail. Jessie had tried every trick in the book but couldn’t find the problem. Upon docking at the station, he checked the system and updated it with the new software. Everything was going to plan until they tried to leave.

“There must be a malfunction with the new hardware,” Jessie told them when the shuttle wouldn’t detach from the docking station. “It’s locked me out of the system and locked the docking bay doors.” Try as he might, he couldn’t get back in. After many attempts from both the shuttle’s computers and those at Mission Control, the reality of their situation was clear: somebody would have to override the docking bay locks manually.

To access the manual override console, John had to exit the shuttle via the emergency hatch and reach the corresponding hatch on the satellite station's docking bay. Once inside, a code only produced by Mission Control must be input into the console in the correct order. This process would unlock the docking bay’s blast doors and free the shuttle for departure. The shuttle would, in turn, thrust away from the station to avoid a collision.

“Mission Control, this is Captain John Morgan of Orbit One. I am in position and ready to initiate departure. Requesting manual override code.” The radio crackled for a moment and then came the reply.

"This is Mission Control; we hear you loud and clear, Captain. Downloading the sequence now. Stand by.”

John felt his heart beating out of his chest as he input the numbers one at a time. “Three,” came the voice through the radio. “Six. Eight. One. One.” The sequence seemed to go on forever until the final number came. “Five.” His hand was trembling as he punched in the last digit.

“Mission Control, manual override complete.” John pressed enter to initiate the override. He lifted the glass box that covered the red ‘emergency unlock’ button and steadied himself against the wall, gripping the guide rail between his fingers. The last voice that he heard through the radio was Lacey’s.

“Mission Control, this is Captain Lacy Dupree of Orbit One. Ready for departure.” Everything fell silent. Even through the radio, John could hear the pain in her voice. Take them home, Lacey. And with that thought, John slammed his hand into the red button.

The station shook violently as the shuttle’s thrusters fired up, and the bay doors started to unlock. The sound was like that of a tornado passing overhead. John gripped the rail tight, now using both hands and thought of his wife and daughter back home. The air grew hotter, and tiny cracks began to creep across the glass in his helmet. Without warning, the bay doors gave way to an eruption of flames, and the chamber was engulfed.

Orbit One was headed home.


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