Conflagration

Built With Pride

The Noémie hardpointer, tail number 788NC, was once again flying towards the nearest star. This time, she wouldn't be flying out.

Lyssa stood in the hardpointer's engine room and rested her hand on the brave plane's No. 2 engine. She was wearing an EVA suit, as the doors were open and the entire plane was exposed to the vacuum of space. Also, she needed the EVA suit's radiation protection. The plane hadn't been de-radiated after all. The bean counters at Noémie had decided it would be too expensive to de-radiate the whole plane. She was old, well past her prime, and ready to be scrapped. Better to just go ahead and write her off as a loss now than dump more money into her.

Still, as Lyssa stood in the engine room of the plane which had seen them through such trials, she couldn't help but feel like she was losing another friend. Through the EVA suit's thick glove, Lyssa could feel the engine's smooth vibration. Lyssa knew engines and these were good engines. Even after all they'd been through, even after all that had been asked of them, these engines still hummed along like a chorus of three.

"Such a fuckin' waste," Lyssa said aloud, forgetting that she was on an intercom channel with Erin.

"I know," Erin said from up in the cockpit. "This is still a good plane. I don't care what that Ivka woman from the Dispatch Office says about it."

"It would cost a fortune to get this bird de-radiated and spaceworthy again. They're not wrong about that."

It had been some snotty, corporate bitch named Ivka Stoya from the Dispatch Office who'd called them and told them of the company's decision to write off 788NC. At first, neither Erin nor herself had been able to believe what they were hearing. They both held this plane in such high regard that it took them a day or so to see the financial side of the equation.

It was the radiation that ultimately sealed the hardpointer's fate. It would be cost prohibitive to de-radiate the old hardpointer. Because of the radiation, Noémie couldn't even sell it off for scrap. All they could do was drop her into the nearest star and collect whatever insurance and/or tax write-offs they could get for her.

Erin held the throttles at 75% thrust as 788NC flew tail-first in high orbit around Promisedland's sun. This would be the hardpointer's final deorbit burn. Once Erin slowed the plane to below the star's escape velocity, it would enter a degrading orbit until it ultimately fell into the star.

Erin hated flying in an EVA suit. It made everything much harder, especially with the suit's thick gloves. But it couldn't be helped. She didn't want to go through de-radiating again and she definitely didn't want that handsome nurse to "clean and change" her again. She shifted in her seat.

Erin reached behind her and pulled the circuit breaker for the CVR. It was doubtful that anybody would ever download the CVR recordings from this plane again, but Erin wasn't taking any chances. "Hey, Lyssa," she said, "how did it go with that Gonaways police inspector?"

"It went okay," Lyssa said. "Hey, do me a favor and check that CVR breaker and make sure it didn't fault out on us again." This was Lyssa's discreet way of asking if their conversation was being recorded.

"It's okay. I pulled the breaker. I don't think that inspector believed us about you marrying Matty."

"No, I don't think he did either. But fuck that oinker. What's he gonna do, go all the way to Sanctuary and ask the villagers if a couple of outsiders were married in their church?"

"I doubt it. It would cost the Gonaways tax payers a fortune and there's nothing to be gained from it."

"Exactly. As long as you stick to your story that you witnessed the ceremony, we're okay on that. And as his widow, I can insist that Matty be buried with the honors of an Estrellan oinker."