xp_logs | Thirteen Days: Like Eagles (Reply)

Getting into space is actually the easy part.

It wasn't like any kind of flying he'd ever done. Not even the hang-gliding he'd done one summer years ago. Scott had gotten some sense of just how different it would be in the simulator, but there was too much that couldn't be similar.

He'd know it would be difficult. And it was, but it was something else, too. He had to remind himself to breathe regularly as he guided the glider on its path upward. The Earth was below them, bigger than he could have imagined. He'd spared it only a single glance - there wasn't time for gawking at the view - but he could feel it there, even though he wasn't looking.

He wasn't Ororo, but he'd always had a sense of the atmosphere around him, and a sure hand on the stick in even the worst turbulence. There was no real atmosphere here as they knew it - they were in the thermosphere now, and he could feel that, too, like the skin of the glider was his own skin.

Two hundred kilometers above the earth and climbing. I'm an astronaut, Dad.

There was something ahead of them, a glow where there shouldn't have been a glow, like a cloud bank of light directly in their path. He heard a soft indrawn breath from the navigator's seat beside him. "Aurora," he murmured, almost inaudibly. "Keep an eye on the instruments."

It was difficult to remember just how fast they were going, where it all felt so strange, but they were there at the leading edge of the aurora almost before anyone else in the glider even began to react. Inside, it was almost indescribable. Light danced around them, gleaming ribbons of green and yellow and orange that made the sky above look red. It wasn't harmful, Scott knew; his contact at NASA had said this might happen, given their flight path. The radiation was minimal, and wouldn't affect the glider's systems.

It was one of the most beautiful things he'd ever seen.

They were through, back into the starry black, in under ten minutes. Scott let his gaze move to the console for a moment, checking their trajectory. Right on, still. He made a tiny adjustment, letting himself slide back fully into that state of total focus.

--

Nathan knew he ought to be focusing on what lay ahead - going over Scott's plan, calming his mind so that he and Jean could link and work in absolute concert. But Nathan's seat was beside one of the small porthole-type windows in the glider, and he'd been absolutely captured by the curve of the Earth beneath them. He'd seen pictures and video taken from orbit, of course, but images on a flat screen didn't prepare you for the immensity of it.

Flying through the aurora had only heightened the urge to find some way to grapple with the impact of it all. He'd fallen back on his old standby, although the images of what they'd seen so far were burned into his mind and would stay there for as long as he lived.

He'd have to share them with Rachel.

Angelo was sitting next to him, trying not to fidget and not having a great deal of success with it. He kept craning over to look out of Nathan's window, then moving back when it got uncomfortable.

Nathan didn't appear to notice. His expression was getting more and more distant, and his lips were moving, as if talking silently to himself. Every so often, as the glider continued on its careful path towards the Russian space station, he'd stop, frowning slightly. After a moment, his lips would start moving again.

Angelo looked at him sideways on noticing this, not sure if breaking his concentration would be a Bad Thing or not. You never could tell.

Nathan stopped again, the frown deepening. He looked away from the window, over the X-Men gathered in the glider, all of them gripped in the same tense silence. Then he noticed Angelo looking at him, and raised an eyebrow.

"You were talkin' to yourself", Angelo told him helpfully in an undertone. "On an' off."

#I wasn't talking to myself.# There was a touch of amusement in Nathan's mental voice, even under these circumstance. #I was... composing.#

...composin' what? It was a little late to be doing anything involving wills or last letters, so it couldn't be that.

Nathan's faint smile still managed to have a degree of warmth to it. #What do you think? Although with my luck, I'll come out of this with a concussion and not remember any of it.# The last couple of lines of the poem were still eluding him, yet somehow he was unsurprised by that. Too much yet to come, today.

Could tell me, Angelo suggested, more out of tradition than any real hope Nathan would give in. Then it'd be more likely one of us'd remember.

#I could, but it's not finished.# The traditional answer, too. Nathan shrugged, the slight smile coming back. #It's not any good. Put anyone even remotely inclined towards poetry into space and I think this is what you get.#

Says you. If it wasn't any good, you wouldn't still be workin' on it past gettin' the first two lines right.

The glider rocked violently to the right, and they heard Scott's soft curse from the pilot's seat. Nathan closed his eyes for a moment, waiting for the turbulence - if that was what it was - to pass. #I'll make you a deal. When we're both back on terra firma and I've got a chance to finish it, I"ll give you a copy.#

That got another quick sidelong glance - Angelo could guess perfectly well at what was really behind that particular deal - but he nodded. You're on.

--

"I think this is as good as we can do," Scott said, his voice tight. They were at least within sight of the station and moving in the same direction, which was better than he'd thought he'd be able to pull off five minutes ago. "Cain, time to head outside."

Cain just gave a grumble of assent over the headset, locking the collar of the helmet into place. It didn't seem right to him - normally his X-Men uniform was lightweight and unarmored, what with it being redundant to layer more armor on the already-invulnerable Juggernaut. But this suit was full-coverage, and felt as confining as wearing a sleeping bag.

Wordlessly, Cain wriggled into the harness they'd designed for him, prepared to play anchor for the ship. When all was done, he gave a thumbs-up to the front of the ship, face tight and impassive behind the visor of the helmet. There was a job to be done, and banter wasn't a part of it this time.

Scott caught the thumbs-up. "I'll give you a minute to get situated outside once I clear the airlock," he said. Another contact at NASA had confirmed that actual EVA was liable to be disorienting the first time out.

Cain fumbled the small hatch closed above him, then made certain he was strapped into the harness before hitting the button to cycle the airlock. In an eyeblink, the air in the small compartment vented out into vacuum and the outer hatch irised open, letting Cain float down and out of the glider.

The metal of the glider's hull filled his vision, sliding slowly to the side as his momentum kept him slowly rotating. The blackness of space, dotted by stars, looked really no different than any night sky. Just clearer, really.

Then he turned and saw the blue and green of the Earth below him, stretching out to a curved horizon. Vertigo set in, and he thrashed his arms and legs about, drumming against the hull of the ship before he composed himself.

"...holy shit," he breathed over the communicator. "I'm in space. I'm in outer goddamn space."

"Congrats, Cain," Scott murmured, unable to help a very slight, momentary smile. Despite where they were, and what they were about to do, a very tiny part of him couldn't help but take a moment to be envious. "I think you're officially the biggest astronaut to go EVA in history. Clarice, time to get up here so that you can see where you're sending him." Scott wasn't sure why he wasn't using codenames. Maybe because they weren't there just yet.

"Aw maaaan..." Cain moaned, squinting his eyes closed and trying to breathe deeply. The air supply in his helmet made everything too dry and sterile, adding to the unfamiliar sensations and disorientation. Just keep reminding yourself it ain't any different than the Danger Room... he thought, taking another breath and unclipping the coil of anchor line from his harness. One end was secured to the glider. The other was attached to a glowing beacon. All he had to do was throw it out there, then push off. Clarice would blink him right to it, and let his momentum carry him to the station. Land, tie in, and reel in the glider like a fish. Easy as falling off a log.

A log almost four hundred miles above the Earth with nothing but empty vaccum ahead of him if he missed, of course.

If there was one thing Clarice was good at, other than completely distorting physics and giving physicists conniptions, it was hitting her mark. Lives depended on it and she wasn't going to screw up now. "Hot damn," she breathed, moving up to join Cyclops. Her hair was braided back tight against her head and her bangs held down by a cap. She understood why most astronauts had the most atrocious haircuts now. "He's in the black."

"All right, Clarice," Scott said softly. He wasn't sure why he had the urge to speak so softly, or why everyone in the glider was so dead silent. It wasn't as if they had to be quiet or Magneto would hear them. Just a response to their surroundings, probably... this hardly felt real. "You know the drill. Cain, on my mark - go."

Cain flung the beacon out towards the station, watching the dull glow blink on and off as it floated away. Bracing himself against the hull of the glider, he took a few deep breaths. Hail Mary, full of grace... he whispered quietly to himself as he pushed off, aiming for the flashing beacon silhouetted against the station and waiting for the telltale flash of purple light that would launch him forward.

"...the lord is with thee," Clarice joined in as Cain's voice whispered over the comms. She was a much-lapsed Catholic, but now was a good time to think about taking it back up. As they continued the prayer, she opened up her disc, sending Cain out into what may as well have been the nether-regions of space. That they could still see him, albeit much smaller, on the screen didn't alleviate her fear.

Scott's eyes were locked on Cain, like the floating X-Man was the only thing in the world. But despite what seemed to be absolute concentration, he was still hyper-aware of the mission, of the other people in the glider with him. Two in particular.

"Jean, Nathan - stand by in case he misses."

Cain's hand closed around the cable as soon as he appeared out of the flash of purple light. He felt the slack under his hand, affixing it to his harness and looking straight ahead. He was the anchor, and he needed to hit his target or... well, he wasn't going to think about the 'or'.

Before him, the space station hung in orbit, looking exactly as it had during the Danger Room mockup. And just like in the training, the red Cyrillic characters on the hull were visible from a distance, marking the auxiliary airlock. The spacecraft that the Brotherhood had used was attached to the other side of the station. All he had to do was not miss.

All his worrying ceased the moment his feet brushed the metal of the hull and he bent double, his hands skimming over the metal to gain purchase. In the dark, Cain let out a breath he felt like he'd been holding for ten minutes, hooked one leg around a pipe, and began the slow process of hauling the glider into the station.

Scott closed his eyes for a moment, his exhalation very slightly shaky. "Good job, both of you," he said very softly over the coms. He opened his eyes, took a deep breath, and started to unstrap himself from the pilot's seat. "All right, everyone. Take your positions. Remember - hard and fast. We don't have time for anything else."