Aerodynamics. The basis of movement. The study of how air interacted with objects moving through it. Every pilot knew them inside and out.
Lift and control. The types of drag. Power distribution. Air density. Thrust.
In space most of them didn't matter, unless you were entering an atmosphere of some kind. Sky Colony was the only human made object that had its own atmosphere, due to the oxygen leaking from its generators and it was one of the most difficult dockings to make.
Most of the space docks were only safe due to the lack of atmosphere in space and many of them bared any approach or launch during solar storms or periods of increased radiation pressure. Maneuvering ships in enclosed spaces was inherently dangerous. Computer programs and autopilot control systems made it safer and pilots under a thousand hours weren't even allowed to attempt a docking by wire. Pilots that damaged ships and berths were automatically knocked down a grade and had to undergo retraining before they were allowed to attempt it again.
The Walker Hospital docks were split in two, one stretch at the top of the colony, the other at the bottom. With the size of the colony, they were far enough apart that four ships could do simultaneously without crossing paths.
Berth 44 was on the top dock, and they had a beautiful view of Saturn as they approached.
Beau's gaze moved back and forth between the view and the heading compass and the VSI that depicted the Loss's CGI and orientation. With ships the size of the Loss it was important for pilots to be able to understand where every part of the ship was at all times. Pilots who couldn't visualize accurately struggled to fly the larger ships, but Beau had always been blessed with an overactive imagination that made it easy once he got to know the ship.
He pulled back on the thrusters, slowing the Loss as the berth appeared in front of them. A notification pinged on his autopilot screen, identifying the berth in front of them as 44.
"Loss, confirm approach to berth 44."
He taped his radio. "This is the Loss, 44 confirmed."
"Reduce speed to ten knots. Call boundary."
"Ten knots, acknowledged."
He pulled back on the thrust even further as the berth grew bigger and bigger until it took up the entire view and they were staring at nothing but a large empty bay. Everyone on the Command Deck put away what they were working on to watch the final approach and as they started across the threshold Beau called, "Boundary."
"Acknowledged. Call Touchdown."
It only took another two minutes for the Loss to come to a complete stop in the middle of the bay and for Beau to set the electromagnetic brakes that would hold her in place.
Some docks had ships actually land, but Walker Hospitals were a bit more advanced due to medical aircraft that often performed quick drop offs without even shutting down their engines. The electromagnetic brakes had the ship in a stasis position, almost like a tractor beam that didn't pull.
The locks turned green on his screen one by one. "Touchdown."
"Acknowledged. Welcome to the Walker Hospital Loss."
"Thanks for the assistance." Beau had learned early in his career to always be polite to the tower personnel. They were uniquely qualified to be a pain in the ass by putting asshole pilots in the farthest berths, dropping them to the bottom of the resupply and refuel lists. Some of these docks could take hours to traverse from one end to the other and dropping to the bottom of those lists could end up adding days to a stop.
"Engines powering down."
"Copy that, Cowboy." The soldiers that worked in the engine room were always on alert for all startups and shutdowns.
Beau started the shutdown sequence, watching the numbers start to fall as power and fuel cells shut down one by one. Everything was falling smoothly, a steady fall that didn't jump around or stop and start, both of which indicated a issue with the shutdown.
When everything was finally at zero, he flipped the remaining systems over to battery power and turned to Finley. "Engines are offline. All systems on battery power."
She could read the same information on her tablet if she wanted to, but she hadn't picked it up once during the approach. Beau had had a few captains that watched the readouts obsessively during every start up and shut down, usually because they had one bad experience, and others who only wanted to hear it from the pilot.
Finley smiled. "Well done."
Littlefoot climbed to her feet and stretched. The dog seemed to be incredibly well trained since she hadn't moved at all once, they'd started the approach.
Landings and takeoffs were the most dangerous parts of a flight inside an atmosphere, and it remained the same in space. Crews were trained to avoid the Command Deck and Engine Rooms while they were happening and unless it was actively war time, all weapons systems were shut down before the approach started and until after the take-off was complete. Ship wide communications were silence during both, except for the emergency medical channels that weren't routed to the Command Deck during those periods.
Beau stood and took his own turn stretching. The pilot's seat was comfortable, designed for long hours of flying, but it still felt good to move and get the blood flowing again. Littlefoot came over, stubby tail wagging as he crouched down to give her some attention. He was sure how old Finley's dog was, but she was clearly used to life on a ship. Some animals struggled with it, with the constant noise and movement, but like humans, they'd begun to adjust as time went on.
The Dorian Gray had had a huge aquarium that ran the length of its hydroponics lab. Filled with hundreds of kids of fish and other ocean creatures. It had been relaxing in a way, but Beau had always wondered what would happen to them if something happened to the ship.
It was a lot easier to grab Littlefoot and make it to an escape pod than an aquarium full of fish.
~ tbc