Spektr

3 Days, 13 Hours, 54 minutes, 28 Seconds ago...

"A successful launch," Farax sighed in relief, "don't have to worry about us losing our shit..." The launch crew cheered as the third stage of their newest all weather global surveying satellite was successfully placed into the medium Equis orbit; Cosmos 22A7, the most technological advanced product CNSA had placed into orbit yet, after the first signal sent back from the satellite the entire control center went wild. The first success since the failure of the Spektr test flight, Farax and his team faced the threat of losing their career or even death sentence as their punishment, and this brought their racing hearts to the decrease in beating rate.

Far out in outer space, 20,200 kilometers above ground, the Cosmos 22A7 swings by in the speed of 3.9km per second, the solar panels are angled towards the sun, as the RCS slowly positioning the satellite to the best angle calculated. The four high precision ground scanning cameras would cover up the entire equator in 12 hours, for it to cover up the globe it would approximately take about a week to do so; as the Cosmos 22A7 takes 14 orbits around Equis, with each completed orbit the RCS would re-position into a steeper angle orbit, with that the Cosmos 22A7 is capable of global-surveying.

"Antennas green."

"Guidance and stabilization systems are online."

"Solar panels are extended and is catching heat."

"Cameras are positive."

"Thermal Control's working well."

"Battery running."

"Data transmission is functional."

"All systems are green, Cosmos 22A7 is officially operational and online running."

With that been said the entire control center erupted in cheers, some of them immediately took out their Whisky and poured on each others' heads, everything seems to be receiving a quite loud ending. Farax, that mission commander from the beginning, had a small smile on his face that never appeared since the Spektr incident. Just as everyone was partying, far at the corner sat the radar tracking officer, his expression is the opposite of the others.

Ever since the first artificial satellite entering the orbit, countries with advanced space technologies began to pour pounds and pounds of satellites into the orbit, the most crowded of all being the LEO. Since radio were most commonly used in these days, communication satellite were the protagonists of the LEO, as time flies, some of them are beginning to die out and malfunctioning. And the radar tracking officer's duty is to observe the malfunctioned satellite; or known as the 'debris' and their orbits. There little bad boys are traveling about seven times faster than a fired bullet, one hit scored meant the end of some unlucky space program's project.

Farax felt a nudge on his foreleg, he turned to see the radar tracking officer, "Farax, you may want to see this..." He then pulled Farax over to the radar screen.

Farax lost his smile, "My Faust..." he muttered, "Shit tons are approaching at this particular moment? Sure these aren't missile?"

"There's no missile exists that travels 15 kilometers a second," the radar tracking officer's face went pale.

"Well, HURRY UP AND STEER THE GODDAMN SATELLITE!!!" Farax screamed at the confused crowd, "GET THOSE BUCKING FLANKS BACK TO YOUR POSTS!!!"

He then spranted to the Satellite controller, who's scrambling on the keyboard, sending messages with drops of sweats rushing down his forehead like the Neighgara Fall, "Quick! Sent those RCS flying! We gotta get the hell outta there right now!"

"I'm trying!" The Satellite controller cried.

While they were scrambling for action, a party of scraps had just begun in outer space; from the frontal view of the lonely Cosmos 22A7, some small sparks of 'particles' can be seen out on the edge of the atmosphere, each reflecting sunlight like the stars. However, after one of them zoomed passed Cosmos 22A7, it has officially marked the beginning of a disaster.

Shards of shards were scrambling through the vacuum of space, with no air to decrease their speed, they are extremely destructive to any orbital devices; Cosmos 22A7 is slowly running out of luck; as one of the shards aimed directly at the core center of the satellite, Cosmos 22A7 is becoming one of them. However, dramatically, right before the deadly impact, another shard of debris ran into the incoming shard, shattering it into smaller pieces. And that one piece went ahead and tore off one of Cosmos 22A7's antennas, with the second piece of debris scratching through the surface, which ripped out the internal power line.

With the final piece of shard ran off, Cosmos 22A7 is left to die.

The green signal lights began its corruption into blood red, and without electricity, the RCS gave up thrusting, the solar panels stopped correcting its angle towards the sun, and with the last bits of electricity in its battery died, Cosmos 22A7 had completely lost contact with CNSA. (They lost connection with the satellite, but the radar is still tracking.)

"Commander! We... Lost all connection with Cosmos 22A7." The entire control center died right after the announcement was made.

Farax lost his focus, "We're bucked."

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1 Day, 8 Hours, 55 minutes, 37 seconds before Nork's Release...

"So you want us to sent a stallion up there, exposed to those little literal pieces of shit, and repair the Cosmos 22A7?" Farax facedhooved, looking at Thorax, who was the first in control sent by Chrysalis after she fired the main control, "Look, we just lost a satellite, we can suffer another loss of stallion. This is nuts. And plus, the only manned spacecraft that's capable of catching up and survive for 72 hours is the Spektr, you know what happened to that guy."

"And that's why I'm agreeing on this mission," Thorax said, handing Farax the report of the Spektr Incident, "Lieutenant Nork Clickbug has been proven innocent and is not related to the failure of project Spektr, plus we had one more replica of the Spektr and the Soyuz; not many of our men are experienced enough to fly the Spektr, the only stallion who actually went in the Spektr is Nork."

"Her majesty agreed on this?" Farax sighed.

"Confirmed."

"You better know what you're doing."

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Present Time

"I'm going straight up? No simulation training?" Nork asked.

"Not yet, you already knew the launch procedure, the only section that worries me the most is the docking procedure; you see," Farax then showed him the scratch paper with calculations and markings of the areas Cosmos 22A7 might be in, "after Cosmos 22A7 was hit, the RCS stopped working, which send the satellite into spinning, the docking compartment located on Cosmos 22A7 are in angle for docking every 20 seconds, and the Spektr can store plenty of fuel and RCS for that, but remember, you only got three shots; if all three chances goes negative we have no choice but to self-destruct the satellite, you clear?"

"Who the buck came up with this idea?" Nork sighed, silently agreeing.

"Thorax."

"That flankhole."