https://apod.nasa.gov/apod/ap031114.html
She strode the corridor and around the corner onto the ship's bridge. Most of the lights were dimmed and the sight outside the view screen filled the space - a gas giant, very close from orbit, the far horizon utterly flat and very high, the near horizon a maze of vast plumes and abysal troughs of many-colored gasses tossed up against the titanic gravity by the endless storms, each peak and trough accompanied by the navigation system's vector data, a wild tempest that offered fuel and threatened disaster. So many hues, this one was mostly blue. Even after three decades of this she slowed at the familiar sight of the new world, passing her eyes across the wide panorama, awestruck again at the beauty and hesitating again at the threat.
The Weapons, Flight Control, and Comms stations were not manned, but the other operators busily finished preparations. The Engineering Senior Chief was directing fuel transfer to distal tanks to minimize incoming fuel transit, the Damage Control Coordinator beside him was lining up teams to deal with any equipment failures. The Operations Chief was taking a large number of reports of stations securing. The Navigator was attempting to plot a safe course through the storm, a little overwhelmed, her eyes flying over the data streams presented by the ship's computer navigation systems and the vector plots of each peak and trough and wavefront, looking for the intuitively obvious path of least danger.
The Pilot glanced back at her, up and down, able to leave off his course track for just a moment, perhaps showing off. Gray eyes. Confident of himself, not sure of her but obviously thinking of a dinner date with her some time soon. Turning back to his course track he clearly saw it as a formidable challenge. Good attitude.
She stopped at the formal line. "Permission to enter the bridge."
The Captain glanced up at her from his incoming data streams. "Permission granted, welcome Lady Lora Lei and thank you again for making your experience available, I believe we're almost ready for this training qualification session." A pleasant and smiling farm boy who had risen to captain, he usually looked as if he were considering which herd needed culling first.
"Thank you Captain." Lora stood formally alongside him at his overlooking seat, gazing out the viewscreen at the thousands of miles of horizon and the ten thousand meter front elevations. "It makes you wonder what we are."
He smiled. "Well let's try not to be dead." Like he was talking about getting the harvest in.
After a second Lora smiled too. "Yes Captain. Permission to take the con."
"Engineering, DC, Ops, report." They all sang back ready. "Granted."
Lora stepped down into the bridge pit behind the Navigator. "Lieutenant Hanford, I'll be taking your station."
The Lieutenant looked back at her. "Lady. I'm afraid I don't have much for the run, I can't plot a course through all this."
Lora leaned over the panel to study the standing plot. She noticed the Pilot glancing at her outline, and could tell that Hanford was jealous of him over her. She ran her finger across the track. "The baseline is good, better than what I've sometimes seen, I can say it is acceptable."
"But it's not enough," Hanford added.
"That's how it goes sometimes, and it'll have to do, and you've done well," Lora said, smiling at Hanford and indicating the panel. Hanford unstrapped and slid out of the seat and Lora took her place, strapping in. "Computer, configure Navigation panel to Instructor Lora Lei."
The indicators slewed around. "Configured," the machine sang back.
"I have the panel."
"You have the panel." The Lieutenant moved back to a spare bridge seat and started strapping herself in, staring at the Pilot.
"Lieutenant Collins," Lora nodded to the Pilot. "Show me your intended flight path and all hull and intake pressures please."
"Lady." Collins tapped over the data. "Two minute validity."
"A lifetime. And just 'ma'am' for now, single syllable."
"Yes ma'am." She scanned the data for any obvious errors.
Lora pointed at a data confluence - two fronts approaching, pressures running high. "You have confidence in this?"
"Should I not?"
"Call."
"No I do not, but I don't have anything better ma'am."
"Good answer. If it fails?"
"Gain alt, or push through," he pointed, "here."
"Good answer, except see the top?" The front leaned forward rather than back, rising would double pressures.
He frowned. "Re-plot?"
"No, you'll do that all day long. Decel and bank."
He did the calcs in his head and nodded. "Understood, ma'am. But that's close." He was beginning to respect her.
"Begin when ready."
Collin's eyes ran over the data again. "Permission to commence run," he sang out.
"Commence run," the Captain sang back, and announced, "All hands, commencing fuel run."
Collins pitched the boat down, 5 degrees. Lora watched his body language, what little of it there was. Uncomfortable, professional, ready. Good. The horizon lifted, pulled in, washed over, viewscreen hazed out ....
A blindingly bright flash, not display but actual, lit up the entire viewscreen and bridge. Everyone jerked, the Senior Chief swore. He and the Damage Control Coordinator scanned their panels.
"Lightning. No issues."
... sensors blanked out. The pressure profiles displayed, green, rising, fading to yellow, the fuel intake data prominent. The viewscreen sparkled at the edges.
Collins was descending cautiously, and she could tell he was trying to watch all the data. "Sooner is better, focus on the bow and scan only for sanity, bring it to .9 for margin. If there's a problem DC will see it before you do."
"Copy." Collins took a few degrees to port to follow track and pitched the bow a half degree. The numbers climbed more rapidly than she anticipated and he slowly leveled. .88, on target, eased to .90, on spec, intake was at .80, on spec.
"Processing reports inflow," the Senior Chief reported.
"Very well," the Captain responded.
Collins pulled a few degrees to starboard to follow track, flying blind. Lora watched his body language - stable - and the track variance - .01.
"Max inflow," the Senior Chief reported.
"Very well."
The Senior Chief hesitated. The Captain looked at him. "Minor leak reported in starboard intake," the Senior Chief reported.
"Response team in place and acting," the Damage Control Coordinator reported.
"Very well. Senior Chief, what was the reason for your hesitation."
"I was waiting for a characterization of the leak sir."
"Understood. Do not delay a report again."
"Yes sir."
"Damage Control reports leak sealed, recirc recovery in effect, no hazard, no injuries," the Damage Control Coordinator said.
"Intake volume reduced by .05" the Senior Chief added.
"Very well."
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