Day 1

Spay knows a member of mission control, a young Asian woman who handles orbital calculations, and makes sure to pay her a visit to ask about any programs that might be similar to BLACKSAT. She explains first that BLACKSAT is a deniable anti-satellite weapon platform. If the Russians or the Chinese put anything unacceptable into orbit, BLACKSAT can degrade its functionality, interfere with its communications, and gradually decay its orbit until it goes offline. It is not dangerous to human beings, nor to anything flying under its own power with a human at the stick.

As for similar programs, she mentions the BLACKSTAR space-plane and the MISTY imaging satellites, but can’t really help, because all that information is need-to-know. Even the people who put the stuff up don’t really know how it operates, or even, sometimes, what it is.

Hamlet smiles at the joke he's heard his entire life. Everybody made it, and everyone assumed they were the first to make it. He gives O'Neil a firm handshake. "Glad to hear it. It's not about fitness," it is "or age" it is "or familiarity with the equipment." it most certainly is "What you've got between your ears and under your hair counts for 99% of it." A modification of a line a remedial math teacher gave him in second grade. Hamlet didn't believe it then and certainly doesn't believe it now. "Let's hit the gym for some range of motion and stretching, get warmed up and limber." Hamlet nods towards a locker with O'Neil's nameplate on it and disrobes changing into athletic gear his dog tags clinking as he pulls on the form fitting black t-shirt.

"Whereabouts do you call home O'Neil?" Start with small talk, work your way inside his defenses. No chance this guy has undergone even half the shit Hamlet put up with in SERE training. Time to put some of it to use.

"Oh! Well congratulations Bruce. That's wonderful."

She deliberately uses his first name to establish some intimacy which she should have done from the start. Nevermind that she was possibly sending him to his death.

"Tell me Bruce. What excited you about it other than being the first. We can also talk about what terrifies you if it will help. You know having a friend in me and O'Neil is a great thing."

"Thanks. I can always count on you for a good chat. Remember...the offer always stands. Give a me a call sometime, we'll go get a drink when you need a break from your non-stop working." With that, Spay decides to go see if he can rest his own mind some with a drink.

"Space Euphoria? They must have skipped that in my psych rotation. Tell me about it." She could tell the man's nervousness was easing with their conversation. They could address the very typical fear of space once he became more comfortable.

"Well, Bruce, the literature says that a feeling of agoraphobia is very common, expected even, so you aren't alone. Allow yourself to feel that emotion, don't fight it and then tuck it away somewhere. You could try putting it in an imaginary box and putting that box under your bunk. It actually works, believe it or not. Perhaps some people feel happy, but personally I've never felt that way."

A forced smile forms on her lips as she adds, "You'll be fine, Bruce. What you are experiencing is entirely normal."

Hamlet clocks the scarring on O'Neil. He thinks about mentioning it, but thinks better of it.

"Butler, Purdue, Notre Dame?"
"I'm not going to bullshit you. It's going to be tough, but we don't really have a choice about it do we? So it's best we don't focus on what we wish we had and focus instead on what we do have. You do a lot of camping out in the Cowboy State?" Hamlet starts walking with O'Neil, leading him toward the weight room to do some stretches.

"Thanks, doc. I'll keep that in mind. Well, let's go be unsung heroes." He gives a smile that has a tint of sadness to it. Weintraub leaves the examination room and heads toward the training pool to meet up with Belton. He says, "Normally, the physical exam would be the worst part of my day. I have a feeling this will be much worse."

"Just a bit when I was a Boy Scout." O'Neil does surprisingly well in the training. He complains about problems breathing and that his "lungs ain't what they used to be" and how the suit is "stiffer than my high school erections." He fails on the first attempt and barely passes on the second. Still, everyone had secretly expected worse. After the training he is physically exhausted and leaves the pool to take a much needed nap.

Belton greets Weintraub with a smile and a handshake. "So, we have our work cut out for us. You can call me Luke by the way... you not being military means we can shelve the customs and courtesies. Shitcan the formalities, and work together without all the stress that can come with the typical "yes sir, no sir" act. Sound good? We'll get through this together."

Belton will start walking with the young man to the weight room, intending to stretch as a warm up. "We're going to take this down to brass tacks. We focus on the essentials. Fundamentals will carry you further than you think."

As they stretch, Belton will talk with Weintraub -- partly to keep his mind engaged and not let him stew on how much this sucks, and partly to see if he can get any information about the repairs in question. "Look... I know you can't go into details about what you know and what your job is. But tell me this much... can you talk someone through the repairs if needed? Things are complicated, but if you think you can guide me step by step, we might have a plan c. Thoughts?"

After the fitting and the pool, Belton will have Weintraub wear the gloves from the training suit the rest of the day so he can get a bit more comfortable with fine motor skills in those oversized, clunky gauntlets.

"Damn. I really hate not having a back-up for my back-up, y'know? That's alright though," Luke says, offering a reassuring smile. "The biggest challenge to the suit is how bulky it is. Obviously its weight is only a factor in atmosphere. You get comfortable with those gauntlets, and you've overcome arguably the biggest hurdle we're facing. Do everything in them. Eat, type, play video games, read a book, play darts... really work on compensating for manual dexterity. Sound good?"

Dirk sits in the Sim and successfully completes another run. He was just going through the motions has he talked with Sim handler through his mic.

"So what are you hearing about this mission? I only got scraps. Not that I'm complaining, I don't need a good reason to take the shuttle out for a joy ride. Still, the timing is odd. What are they telling you guys about this?"

"Easy, easy... you got this, man. Tell me about your thesis."

The Lieutenant Commander stays calm, urging Weintraub to talk about something else to curb his panic. Belton steps in to physically assist the civilian in maneuvering the suit, drawing on his own expertise to serve as an example.

Luke smiles. "Don't be sorry. You stuck it out and kept practicing. That's a win in my book. I mean that. You have a little homework -- keep the gaunlets. Do everything in them. Seriously... eat dinner, type, write, read a book, play a game, whatever. Do any of it and all of it. We'll pick up tomorrow morning. And hey -- if you have questions or feel like you're ready for round 2... call me. I got you."

Belton seems completely unphased by Weintraub throwing up. He'd seen it plenty of times in the Navy. People push themselves so hard their own body revolts. Usually it's for the PFT run, but some cross country unit runs can go on for 6, 7, 12 miles. People dropping like flies.

The fact the kid had stuck it out until his own body gave up on him was respectable.