2069: First Contact page 3-4

"A lot of it is classified, sir... but I can tell you some things about the launch system." Talon felt sheepish now.
"Ah, is it true that the Newhome Bound is using a completely new launch system?" Asked a bespectacled man in a suit, who Talon instantly identified as a politician. "You must tell us about it!"
"Yes it is." Talon waited a moment for the many other people in the room to pay attention to him. "The Newhome Bound is not launching from that exact position. Rather, it is going to be lowered deep down until much, if not all of the ship is underground. Utilising seismic force and the power of the atomic combustion engines, the Newhome Bound will be shot out of the underground tunnel much like a bullet from a high powered rifle."
"Amazing engineering. How fast does it go?" The same man asked.
"It will easily achieve double the minimum escape velocity. Escaping our world's atmosphere requires speeds of just over eleven kilometres per second. The Newhome Bound was built for extremely high speeds but also to be able to sustain them. Escape velocity is not one of the higher speeds the craft is capable of, but one of the most important benchmarks."
"What is the maximum speed of the Newhome Bound?" Another man in the crowd asked eagerly. Talon smiled at General Russell, who shrugged.
"Theoretically the ship is capable of leaving the Milky Way's gravity well, which requires intense speeds beyond the reckoning of any here. It is estimated it requires speeds of over five hundred kilometres per second. And to put it into perspective; a handgun round goes less than five hundred metres per second." Talon told them. "But it is unknown what effects it would have on the ship or its crew."
"Does the ship have any armaments?" Asked yet another man in the sea of men in suits, provoking a wave of muttering.
"That's classified." Talon said quickly, glancing at General Russell, who nodded as he cleared his throat loudly.
"That will be all for now, I think. The ship will be launching soon; we can't miss that at all." General Russell informed the crowd, who turned away and returned to their conversations. Frowning with disdain, Russell turned to Talon, holding out his hand. "I owe you one; those damn vultures have been on my back about the Newhome Bound all day."
"Why are you here, anyway? Colony Program's a joint Air-Force and Space Program venture; not Alliance Army." Talon shook General Russell's hand, squeezing tightly to counter the General's own tight grip.
"The... politicians wanted as many big names and decorated old dogs like me in on this as they could." Russell half-growled, half-laughed. "Plus, my son and nephew are on there, as well as some of the kids from the boys back in my special forces days."
"So the ship's dear to you too, huh?" Talon muttered as they crossed the room to the buffet table. The General shook his head.
"The ship I could care less about. It's the people on it."General Russell admitted quietly before glancing at Talon. "How're you taking it though?"
"What do you mean?" Talon said quickly, hoping to avoid this discussion with General Russell; who had been a close friend of his father's during the Atlantic-Pacific war.
"Losing the position of pilot on the Newhome Bound." General Russell smiled. "Boy, you may take for your father in some respects but when it comes to your ride you're as overprotective and clingy as Talon was."
"I was the one they spent two years and god knows how much money training. And I get passed over because some jackass shrink says I'm unbalanced?" Talon growled, picking up a bottle of light beer and squeezing tightly.
"They didn't know what to expect from you, Talon. You know that." Russell took a beer from the tray and opened it with his bare hands. "They didn't want absolutely any possibility that the mission could be endangered."


"If those shrinks actually looked at my profile they'd know I'd be good to be on the mission." There was a bitterness to Talon's words that unsettled Russell.
"It's not every day the pilot of the ship that is meant to be the future of humanity finds out his father was diagnosed with lung and heart cancer." Russell said to him, his tone stern. "Have you even been to see him yet?"
"Of course I have. I was there the minute I found out." Talon shot a dark look at General Russell. "What about you?"
"I've been busy with this... top-secret, won't-even-let me-off the-base work." He sighed. "Part of me doesn't want to see it. Your father was a great man, and I'm not young anymore, myself. Wasn't all too long ago it was our own parents getting sick, now it's us..."
"There's a group out there who wrote a book on the Newhome Bound project, who say that if we injected the money and resources into cancer research and environmental studies we wouldn't need to leave Earth." Talon said quietly, hoping to change the subject. General Russell nodded.
"That was talked about, and it's probably true. But this was the only thing we could be absolutely sure of." He told Talon, constantly peering about to make sure nobody could be eavesdropping. "You probably know this already, but the program was pushed forward as much as it could be without jeopardising it. We may not have as much time on Earth as people are being led to believe..."
"What do you mean?" Talon said quickly, in a hushed, but panicked voice. General Russell sighed tiredly, and for the first time, Talon saw the General's old age reflected in his features.
"Our best estimates have revealed that Earth will be mostly uninhabitable within a hundred years." The General had a melancholic greyness to his eyes.
"A century... you can't be serious." Talon gasped, but Russell shook his head.
"Think about it, kid. Wartime industry, the same old dirty practices and the Brazil Incident took more of a toll on the planet than we thought possible. She can't take much more." He told Talon. "It's why we rushed the program. It's why the brass took control of the Alliance and its industries. It's why the older generations hate us; they can't know the world is dying, but they do know that there's a lot less in the entertainment industry these days, and they're certain it's our fault."
"But surely-" Talon was interrupted by the crackle of speakers coming to life, and when he attempted to speak again, was interrupted by the voice of mission control's spokesman.
"And the crew of the Newhome Bound are finished boarding; and the ship is entering the final phase before being readied for launch. Anyone not currently in a bunker or designated safe-zone is required to make their way to one as soon as possible." The voice was shaky, as if the speaker was trying to suppress their excitement.
"But surely restoration is an option. We know what's wrong with the world, and if we dedicated as much to it as we did this, surely we could buy ourselves more time?" Talon asked. The General shrugged, a tired movement that revealed his true age.
"I told you, it wad discussed. But nobody is willing to risk the future of humanity on it. Nobody wants to leave Earth behind indefinitely, but we can study the world from orbit, away from the planet so we're not harming it in the process."
"Are you saying that the brass plans to take all of humanity to space? It can't be done in time." Talon hissed, trying to restrain himself.
"All of the Alliance. We don't know of the Federation's plans yet. There's been talks with them but there's a lot of tension in the diplomatic talks. Some of us aren't fond of leaving them behind on Earth without us there to watch them, either."
"I can see why. My father wouldn't be happy with that." Talon guessed, then, remembering something Russell said earlier, asked; "You said Talon was clingy, what did you mean?"
"Thought your dad would have told you about it." Russell smiled.
"Talon's a touchy subject. He doesn't like talking about some things, especially Talon and the war. Most of his stories tend to be ones from his off-duty time or the ones that have a lesson to them." Talon told him.
"I suppose it would be... you were named after him for a reason. Talon was probably your old man's only friend for those few years." General Russell smiled. "Talon was attached to his jets and rides. In the Battle of Brazil, a missile battery locked onto his craft, so he pulled rank and rerouted three commando squads before the Federation could restock the missiles. Almost cost us the mission, and he damn near lost his ass to the higher-ups, but your father pointed out that Talon's actions were necessary to save the dwindling air forces."
"Wow... I had no idea." Talon said in quiet reverence. "He doesn't say much about the war, or Talon. It'd be nice to know why I got his name."