Side by side they ran, each long powerful stride kicking up a wave of sand behind them. One the inside was a white winged craft, sleek and agile. The craft on the outside was larger, bulging with powerful muscles that extended well past her black wings. They were nose to nose, nothing between them. They made the turn, leaning to the inside as each attempted to cut the corner a little more than the other. As they came around, the white winged craft poked her nose in front as centrifugal force carried her opponent wide. But the effect was sort lived. The black winged craft extended her stride, head lowering as she picked up speed. She came back inside with a half length advantage. To her inside she could hear her sister huff as her smaller body worked to regain the ground that she lost. But it was no good as Columbia outran Discovery across the finish.
Both shuttles immediately slowed, checking their stride into a gentle taxi trot. Both were panting, hulls glistening with sweat. The desert environment was hot and the sand itched in their landing gear bays. But the strength gained over a good workout was worth the minor discomforts. "What do I have to do to beat you?" Discovery asked when they could speak again. "Grow a new body." Columbia replied. Discovery snorted, shoving her big sister good naturedly as the pair made their way to the washdown. Columbia nipped her tailfin in reply.
The cold water felt wonderful as it ran across their hot bodies. Their solid carbon coats made for great insulation up in space but down here they were more of a burden. Columbia, being bigger and carrying more black on her than Discovery, was more susceptible to the heat so she relished the cold shower even more. "That new jet's supposed to take off today." Columbia said. "Is that the one that can go hypersonic?" Discovery asked as Columbia moved directly underneath the faucet. She quivered in delight as the cold water ran down her back. "Yeah, it's called Starflight. Supposed to get ya from Florida to Sydney in 90 minutes." Columbia answered. "Huh, well there goes our careers." Discovery muttered. "Starflight may be a high altitude plane but she ain't a spacecraft." Columbia reassured her. "Good for us, bad for Concorde." Columbia shrugged. "Progress dear sister, progress."
Stepping out of the shower the two shuttles were met by Thornwell. Seeing the look on his face, Columbia could tell her day was far from over. "What's the problem?" She asked. "Very observant Columbia." Thornwell answered. "The problem is Starflight." "What's happened?" Discovery asked. "A Delta rocket launched from Australia without NASA's authorization failed to enter 3rd stage. They had to destroy it and the debris cut Starflight's engine controls." "So they can't stop?" Columbia asked. "It's worse than that I'm afraid. Starflight's engines have burned out but only after using all their fuel and since the last command they received was to go into optimum climb..." "They're in orbit." Thorwell nodded. "Shit!" Columbia thought. "What's their flight path?" She asked, listening carefully to Thornwell's answer. The calculations were complex and Columbia quickly worked them through her head. With no fuel left to refire them and no means to control the engines if they did start, Starflight's orbit would degenerate after just 50 hours. She'd assume the worst and guess their air supply would run out before that. There was only one option. She straightened. "Mr. Thornwell, request permission to get the crawler going and to prep the pad for immediate launch." "Granted. Get your tail over to the OPF." Columbia nodded and practically sprinted off in that direction. Already, her head was swimming with numbers. Launch vectors, orbital positioning, everything a shuttle needed to function in space. It was a lot to consider and normally, she'd have weeks to prepare. She had 12 hours.