[CENTER][sup][h1][center][img]https://qph.cf2.quoracdn.net/main-qimg-098ff22137b2a99d5e61436a13887ae7-pjlq[/img][/center][b][center][color=green] T H E   L A N T E R N S[/color]
[color=yellow]T H E   L A N T E R N S[/color][/center]
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[color=silver][sup][i]"NO MAN ESCAPES THE MANHUNTERS! Part 4"[/i][/sup][/color][/CENTER]

It had been a fairly uneventful day for Carol Ferris. Plenty of weird things had happened in these last few weeks, meteors in Metropolis, lost a multi-million dollar plane to what some government agent had said was "A Freak Weather Event" and now all sorts of weirdo's with capes and costumes were crawling out of the woodworks. Now Ferris Industries were facing a combination of good and bad. Good in that the US government was increasing their defense spending like no man's business to reassure the public that they would be prepared for anything. But, on the other hand, if all humans would soon be able to fly... Then why would they they need planes. Well, hopefully that was a few generations down the line's problem.

As she sat down at her desk for stamping a few more approval forms before going home, then suddenly, the phone began ringing. She rolled her eyes before looking at her phone. Caller ID: Flyboy Dumbass. She stared at it for a solid minute, deciding whether she wanted to be hit on by the guy who lawndarted her plane, before finally deciding that his desperate attempts to pick her up would be a nice amusing distraction before getting back to work. She picked up and pressed accept. [color=f49ac2]"Would you kindly remind me remind me why i agreed to give you this number?"[/color] She asked.

[color=8dc73f]"Ok, normally, i'd say something charming, but right now, i REALLY need your help."[/color] He said to her.

[color=f49ac2]"Yeah, and i needed some dumb flyboy to not lawndart my prototype into the desert, but you decided that was too big an ask, so would you like to explain to me why i shouldn't hang up on you right now?"[/color] She asked.

[color=8dc73f]"Because i'm out in space and require the assistance of an expert in space travel."[/color] He replied. She took a few seconds think.

[color=f49ac2]"Well..."[/color] She scratched the back of her head. [color=f49ac2]"I'll admit, i've never heard of that one before. 10/10 for originality, minus several million points for plausibility."[/color] She groaned.

[color=8dc73f]"Ok, what if i were to tell you what REALLY happened on that night?"[/color] Hal asked.

[color=f49ac2]"I'd say, don't you dare. TSA are no doubt listening to this conversation and we are both being thrown into a hole and then they throw away the hole."[/color] She replied dryly. Frankly, this was only half kidding. But in any case, if he was mixed up in some Government Cover-Up BS, then she ABSOLUTELY didn't want to know.

[color=8dc73f]"Oh, don't worry, we are WAY above TSA's paygrade. If anything, whoever's listening is the one getting thrown in the hole."[/color] He laughed, before there was a loud bang in the background.

[color=f49ac2]"Are you being shot at?"[/color] She asked.

[color=8dc73f]"Was, but he's dead now, don't worry. Point is, i need to know how to safely de-orbit a space-ship and you're the only person i have the number for that might know how to do that."[/color] He replied, tapping buttons on the control panel and trying to make anything in English happen.

[color=f49ac2]"I am the president of an Aerospace engineering corporation. Why do you think i know that?"[/color] She asked.

[color=8dc73f]"Because you're smart and are the head of an aerospace engineering corporation. You should know this.[/color] He demanded.

[color=f49ac2]"Well, it's your lucky day, flyboy, because i do."[/color] She rubbed her brow in mild frustration. [color=f49ac2]"Alright, give me the specifications of the craft."[/color] She brought up a calculator and note-pad to do some quick calculations on her computer.

[color=8dc73f]"Ummm... I mean, it's big... Probably about 5 times the size of the old Shuttles."[/color] He said.

[color=f49ac2]"Probably or actually? This is Rocket Science, it is an exact science. One KG off is the difference between you landing safely in the Gulf of Mexico and you plowing into a tree in Siberia."[/color] She scolded. There was more button presses.

[color=8dc73f]"Ok, so, according to this, the ship is... 12,000 Velvoodles in weight... Whatever the hell a Velvoodle is."[/color] At this point, Carol was more humouring him than taking him seriously.

[color=f49ac2]"Alright. Let's make the assumption that a Velvoodle is a Ton, so, yeah, about 5ish times the size of a Space Shuttle... Wait, why didn't you phone your ground crew, they would actually know this stuff?"[/color] She asked.

[color=8dc73f]"I barely tollerate these people, socially, let alone have them on speed dial. The only one i do have... Well, she may know, but she may also just break my thumbs."[/color] Carol shook her head.

[color=f49ac2]"Alright, fuel, what do we have?"[/color] She asked. There was more tapping.

[color=8dc73f]"Ok, don't hate me, but 14,000 Subnaks in combustible fuel and 10,000,000 wills of electricity- Oh for crying out loud. DEXTER SHUT UP! THERE'S NO POWER TO THE DOOR, I CAN'T LET YOU IN!!!"[/color]

[color=ed1c24]"An interesting smell is coming from the room, cultist. Investigation is required."[/color] the dark, forboding voice came through the phone.

[color=8dc73f]"IT'S A SEALED AND PREASSURIZED BULKHEAD! SMELL LITERALLY CANNOT GO THROUGH IT!"[/color]

[color=ed1c24]"Do not toy with me, human. I require access."[/color] The rhythmic scratching continued.

[color=8dc73f]IF THAT DOOR OPENS, I WILL DIE OF VIOLENT DECOMPRESSION!"[/color]

[color=ed1c24]"Sacrifices must be made, cultist..."[/color]

[color=f49ac2]"Alright, i'm guessing this is being recorded for America's Dumbest Pranks, so i'm hanging up now."[/color] She replied.

[color=8dc73f]NONONONONONO! Please, i need your help to not die. Please..."[/color] She could hear the growing desperation in his voice. She quickly did the maths in her head.

[color=f49ac2]"Fine, but if i end up on TV, please note that i'm suing you for that jet you killed. Legal told me to. I have every right."[/color] She quickly checked the maths on the calculator. [color=f49ac2]Alright, making some educated guesses, i'm thinking you have about 1000 m/s of Delta-V. That's good, that's way more than you need to de-orbit a ship and land safely. Right, do you know how far you are from your Apoapsis?[/color] She asked.

[color=8dc73f]"Ummm..."[/color] He pressed several buttons. [color=8dc73f]"I'm working on it... While i do, care to tell me what any of that means?"[/color] He asked. Carol rubbed her brow in frustration.

[color=f49ac2]"Wow, NASA really is sending any old idiot to space these days."[/color] She grunted. [color=f49ac2]"Ok, crash course in how to de-orbit a vehicle and i will use simple terms your monkey brain can understand. You are in Orbit. This means that you are falling sideways faster than earths gravity is pulling you down, so you never actually hit it. Your orbit is registered in speed which denotes how far about the Earths surface you are. You have what's called an Apoapsis and a Periapsis. Your Apoapsis is when your ship is at its slowest, this is when it is furthest away from Earth. Your Periapsis is when your ship is at its fastest, that's when it's closest to Earth."[/color]

[color=8dc73f]"Can't i just point the nose at Earth and fly towards it?"[/color] He asked.

[color=f49ac2]"If you want to die horrifically, then absolutely. You have about enough Delta-V to hard burn into Earths Atmosphere, where your shuttle will be torn to pieces."[/color]

[color=8dc73f]"Alright, bad plan."[/color] Hal replied.

[color=f49ac2]"Look, your not just sat there still and Earth is also sat there still. You need to compete with the fact that, literally, everything is moving. Now, the easiest way to de-orbit is, when you reach your Apoapsis, you perform a retrograde burn that... When you are at the furthest point, you turn the ship around and point the engines AGAINST your velocity. You then perform a burn that is enough to drop you just into Earth's Atmosphere."[/color]

[color=8dc73f]"But won't that get me ripped apart?"[/color] He asked.

[color=f49ac2]"So long as the ship is in good condition, no. The atmosphere will absorb a considerable chunk of your speed, but you don't want to be too far into it, just on the outskirts. It'll take a few passes, but eventually your ship will lose so much speed that your orbit will decay and you'll no longer escape the atmosphere. Space Travel isn't like it is in the movies, it's actually a lot of waiting around for perfect conditions."[/color] Hal pressed a bunch of buttons, trying to figure out exactly how to translate this into english. He then remembered his resident alien sidekick and pressed the earpiece. [color=8dc73f]"Sinestro? You there?"[/color] He asked. Nothing. Alright, he was on his own with a woman who didn't believe him and a at who didn't care. All things considered, not his most promising hour. He finally punched the console in frustration. A flash of green from his ring zapped the console and suddenly everything was readable.

[color=8dc73f]"Oh... I did it. Alright, Apoapsis is 1231km, Periapsis is 400km. Current velocity is 7.11km/s[/color] He replied. Carol quickly went to work on the calculator.

[color=f49ac2]"Is your velocity increasing or decreasing?"[/color] She asked. Hal looked at the number, watching the margins slowly counting down.

[color=8dc73f]"Decreasing."[/color] He replied, before waiting for her to calculate the answer.

[color=f49ac2]"Ok, that's good. You're approaching Apoapsis. Your job now is to orient the ship with your propulsion to make a retrograde burn."[/color] She said, before remembering Hal was an idiot. [color=f49ac2]"Uuuuuugh... Turn the ship so the propulsion is alligned against your velocity."[/color] Hal went to use the engines. [color=8dc73f]"Ok, so that will be... Reaction Thrusters offline. Dammit..."[/color] He groaned, before suddenly remembering the scratching at the door. [color=8dc73f]"Dex!"[/color] He cried, running to the door. [color=8dc73f]"Dex, i need your help to save us!"[/color]

[color=ed1c24]"And i need to investigate the smell, we cannot all get as we wish, cultist."[/color] The cat replied.

[color=8dc73f]"No, but if you were to turn the ship around so it's pointing back to front from where it currently is... I'll... I'll investigate the smell for you?"[/color] He asked, trying to think what this stubborn animal might reasonably want.

[color=ed1c24]"Insufficient. Your feeble human nose cannot comprehend the complexities of an investigation of this kind."[/color] The cat replied.

[color=8dc73f]"I'll... Get you some halibut from that place your Cultist usually gets it for you."[/color]

[color=ed1c24]"AND YOU WILL ADD EXACTLY 250 GRAMS OF KIBBLE TO IT. NO MORE, NO LESS! FOR EVERY GRAM OVER OR UNDER, I SHALL REND YOUR FLESH FROM YOUR BONES, AND IF YOU ARE LUCKY, I MAY DEEM TO KILL YOU FIRST!!!"[/color] It roared. Hal sighed as he was reminded of the looney land he was living in.

[color=8dc73f]"Yeah sure, bud."[/color]

[color=ed1c24]"THE EXACT MEET TO KIBBLE RATIO IS AN IMPORTANT BALANCE!"[/color] He then heard him scurry off.

[color=8dc73f]"Alright, i've got someone working on that."[/color] Hal replied, going back to the phone.

[color=f49ac2]"Well, nothing to do now but wait."[/color] Carol replied. It was true, with everything Sinestro had told him, there was a good chance S.W.O.R.D. wouldn't approach in case there was more Manhunters aboard. And even if they could, they weren't getting through the shielding. His only option now was to land this thing on Earth and hope that the re-entry proceedure bled enough power off that the shields collapsed... No, wait. He ran over to the console, it was in English now, he could actually use stuff. Ok, communications still down, his headset still not working. He could lower the shields if he wanted... Why was the phone to Carol the only thing working?

[color=8dc73f]"This doesn't make any sense."[/color] He said to the phone.

[color=f49ac2]"You're telling me."[/color] Carol replied. [color=f49ac2]"So, Spaceman, how is space?"[/color] She asked.

[color=8dc73f]"Well, we have artificial gravity, so i am NOT floating in a most peculiar way."[/color] He replied.

[color=f49ac2]"I love Bowie's music."[/color] She replied.

[color=8dc73f]"Who doesn't?"[/color]

The pair quickly devolved into a conversation of their history with music and favourites. Heated discussions of preferences. It looked as if their date was now happening over the phone, one in a multi-billion dollar office, the other in an ancient alien craft.