and a handful of large industrial and commercial orbiting platforms.
Jason engaged the ship’s autopilot once he confirmed their position, leaving the manual flight controls in their stowed positions. Eshquaria’s traffic controllers were notoriously insistent on accurate approaches to their planet since the space traffic was normally quite heavy. He didn’t feel they’d appreciate him practicing on the new flight control system in their clogged shipping lanes, so he sat back and simply monitored their progress instead. “Twingo,” he called out, “are we running with clean codes?”
“Of course we are. I’ve got us covered, Captain,” Twingo said casually from one of the bridge stations. They’d spent an incredible amount of money to refit the Phoenix with a set of switchable transponders, complete with all new registry codes from various worlds around the galaxy. After some of their more memorable missions, they had been pursued heavily by law enforcement agencies from half a dozen different planets. They’d had to adopt the old smugglers’ trick of rotating transponders in order to stay a step ahead. There was one transponder which they kept “clean” that identified the Phoenix as a light courier freighter.
The DL7 slipped easily into their designated approach lane which would put them on an orbital insertion vector that bypassed most of the holding and transfer orbits. This would queue them up for a quick atmospheric entry. Jason was happy about the clout their employer seemed to have on the surface; while he didn’t mind cooling his heels above a planet, the longer they were airborne the more likely it was that someone would get a good visual of the Phoenix and realize she wasn’t just some light freighter and raise an alarm.
Luck stayed on their side and they passed unseen, and largely ignored, through the Eshquarian traffic and began their descent. Like their approach, entry was rigidly controlled and they were ordered into a tight, spiraling descent through the atmosphere that was almost directly over their intended landing zone: a small, commercial spaceport near the coast of the southern continent. This maneuver would be impossible without a gravimetric drive to control their speed and angle of attack, but even with it, there was still considerable friction heating over the hull. They continued down in the lazy, eighty-mile wide spiral as the thickening atmosphere began to buffet the gunship slightly.
With the ship's computer actually doing his job, Jason was free to enjoy the view of the planet as they descended. Eshquaria was very much like the other Earth-type planets he had visited since he started working in space. It had brilliant blue oceans and rolling green landmasses, just like his home. The more of them he saw, the more he realized Earth wasn't really all that unique. Instead of being upset at that, he found it oddly comforting that humans fit snugly into a "norm", albeit many, many years behind technologically.
"Heads up, Captain. We're approaching the handoff," Kage said.
"I've got it," he said testily. The handoff was when the autopilot would kick off since it wouldn't be receiving instructions from ground control on their final approach.
"Really? It looked like you were daydreaming."
"That's what humans look like when we’re anticipating something," Jason replied. Both Doc and Twingo gave him a look that clearly showed how much they disbelieved that statement. Jason ignored them as the flight controls extended up from the console and the floor in preparation of the transition to manual flight.
The computer passed control of the gunship over to him and the nav system began feeding him
Jason engaged the ship’s autopilot once he confirmed their position, leaving the manual flight controls in their stowed positions. Eshquaria’s traffic controllers were notoriously insistent on accurate approaches to their planet since the space traffic was normally quite heavy. He didn’t feel they’d appreciate him practicing on the new flight control system in their clogged shipping lanes, so he sat back and simply monitored their progress instead. “Twingo,” he called out, “are we running with clean codes?”
“Of course we are. I’ve got us covered, Captain,” Twingo said casually from one of the bridge stations. They’d spent an incredible amount of money to refit the Phoenix with a set of switchable transponders, complete with all new registry codes from various worlds around the galaxy. After some of their more memorable missions, they had been pursued heavily by law enforcement agencies from half a dozen different planets. They’d had to adopt the old smugglers’ trick of rotating transponders in order to stay a step ahead. There was one transponder which they kept “clean” that identified the Phoenix as a light courier freighter.
The DL7 slipped easily into their designated approach lane which would put them on an orbital insertion vector that bypassed most of the holding and transfer orbits. This would queue them up for a quick atmospheric entry. Jason was happy about the clout their employer seemed to have on the surface; while he didn’t mind cooling his heels above a planet, the longer they were airborne the more likely it was that someone would get a good visual of the Phoenix and realize she wasn’t just some light freighter and raise an alarm.
Luck stayed on their side and they passed unseen, and largely ignored, through the Eshquarian traffic and began their descent. Like their approach, entry was rigidly controlled and they were ordered into a tight, spiraling descent through the atmosphere that was almost directly over their intended landing zone: a small, commercial spaceport near the coast of the southern continent. This maneuver would be impossible without a gravimetric drive to control their speed and angle of attack, but even with it, there was still considerable friction heating over the hull. They continued down in the lazy, eighty-mile wide spiral as the thickening atmosphere began to buffet the gunship slightly.
With the ship's computer actually doing his job, Jason was free to enjoy the view of the planet as they descended. Eshquaria was very much like the other Earth-type planets he had visited since he started working in space. It had brilliant blue oceans and rolling green landmasses, just like his home. The more of them he saw, the more he realized Earth wasn't really all that unique. Instead of being upset at that, he found it oddly comforting that humans fit snugly into a "norm", albeit many, many years behind technologically.
"Heads up, Captain. We're approaching the handoff," Kage said.
"I've got it," he said testily. The handoff was when the autopilot would kick off since it wouldn't be receiving instructions from ground control on their final approach.
"Really? It looked like you were daydreaming."
"That's what humans look like when we’re anticipating something," Jason replied. Both Doc and Twingo gave him a look that clearly showed how much they disbelieved that statement. Jason ignored them as the flight controls extended up from the console and the floor in preparation of the transition to manual flight.
The computer passed control of the gunship over to him and the nav system began feeding him
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