To Boldly Go Ch. 01

Yep, I'm back. Updates on my profile for the burning question I'm sure everyone has.

This story takes place in an alternate world, much like ours. The time period and technology are roughly equivalent to the late 1970's, and as was the case in our reality, the big story of the times was the space race. The United Republic of Federated States has triumphed in the race to the moon, and is now in the process of developing their first space plane. What takes place in this story is actually based somewhat in fact, as it deals with a question that had to be answered in our own reality as the space shuttle program became more inclusive. The real life scenario was of course dealt with in a far more discretionary and professional manner than this story does! It does strongly feature a watersports kink/fetish that may not be to everyone's taste, so reader discretion is advised.

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"Senator John Campbell. I understand. It's a great step forward for the space plane program, and for the URFS space mission as a whole." Frank Richards steepled his fingers on his desk in front of him. He had started the day off in a very good mood. Funding for FAST had just been approved by the congressional house, and the space plane program was secure for the foreseeable future. But now he found one of the funding bill supporters in his office, saying that FAST had not understood some of the implications of the first crewed mission.

"I know that the Federal Administration for Space Technology was remiss in not diversifying our initial astronaut cohorts. The fact that Rustotzkya had not only the first man, but also the first woman in space was a national embarrassment. But we quickly caught up, planted our flag on the moon, and now we're ahead in development of a reusable spacecraft that can stay in space twice as long as the Helios capsule, with twice the crew, and a significant increase in crew space and cargo capacity."

He leaned back in his office chair and regarded the Senator with a questioning look.

"We are now prepared to send up a diverse seven-astronaut crew of multiple ethnic backgrounds, three of which are women, on the first mission of the space plane. So while it does not entirely make up for errors of the past, I assure you we are being very proactive now. That's been one of my focuses ever since being granted the title of Administrator"

"Mr Richards, I certainly appreciate the magnitude of what you're doing here." the gray haired senator tugged at his collar nervously. "But there's a crew issue you're not accounting for, specifically regarding the women. Something that....well, lets just say that it's difficult to bring up in polite conversation"

Frank's brow furrowed, then his expression darkened. "John. I hope you are not implying that these crew members are going to be limited in ability simply on account of their gender. I honestly didn't expect to hear this kind of thing from you"

"Heavens no, Frank! It's...damn it, this is awkward" the senator shook his head. "Maybe it's better I just show you."

From the inside pocket of his suit jacket, he pulled out a folded piece of shiny paper, one edge clearly jagged from being torn. A fragment from a magazine of some kind.

"This is a page from a tabloid. One I normally wouldn't take seriously, with awfully outdated views you know. It came into my possession from one of my aides who specializes in investigative journalism. Specifically focusing on topics regarding civil rights. You know that even as women and minorities have secured rights long withheld from them, there are groups that just don't want to move past the previous centuries ways of thinking, right? Well, they have publications, and they can sometimes be a valuable resource in counter-terrorism, predicting what these hate groups will do next. She was browsing this particular one a few days ago, and this article caught her eye."

Frank nodded. "Okay. I see. Do you think there's a threat to the crew then, from one of these groups?"

The senator shook his head. "Thankfully no. But you know how sometimes, things get missed not because they're obscure or unknown, but rather because they're so obvious, no one actually thinks of them?"

"You mean like the one time they put the rocket on the launch pad with the hatch facing away from the boarding gantry, because no one had bothered to make sure it couldn't happen?" Frank shook his head bemusedly. "I still can't believe it was the locomotive driver that spotted the issue. A team of dozens of college educated engineers, and they didn't notice it. Thank heavens we were able re-orient the rocket before launch day without it becoming public knowledge"

Senator Campbell nodded. "Yes, exactly that sort of thing. This article is an awfully rude satire, but it identifies a problem with the design of the space plane, in regards to the crew facilities. Something that I know we all know about, but after reviewing the design paperwork of the space plane....well, let's just say it will be far more embarrassing than a rocket turned the wrong way around, if the problem isn't addressed immediately"

He held out the folded magazine page, then withdrew it slightly outside of Frank's reach in hesitation when he stood to take it. "I should warn you, the picture on it is quite....crude"

Frank rolled his eyes as he took the paper and unfolded it. "John, we're adults here. If the problem is serious as you say it is then I'm sure that...." he trailed off as he caught sight of the picture and its caption.

The setting was a comic drawn facsimile of a spacecraft cockpit. Clearly designed in the style of the black and white sci-fi "Dash Norman" movies, with consoles full of blinking lights, dials, vacuum tubes, along with a sweeping panorama view of the earth, moon and stars out of an unrealistically sized glass windshield. Two astronauts floated in zero gravity, a man and a woman, and a gaudy overly retro robot stood next to the main console.

All of the above would have been fine and appropriate in humor, if not for the state of the female astronaut. Floating mid air in a shameless attempted squatting position, the lower half of her spacesuit was pulled down around her ankles. While her mid-air pose faced away from the viewer, preventing the image from becoming pornographic, her bare posterior drew immediate attention to the problem at hand. A powerful stream of urine sprayed from between her legs, completely missing the plastic bag labeled "space whiz" she was attempting to hold in position. The exaggerated torrent drenched the main console and flight controls, resulting in a cascade of sparks and arcing electricity from both. The male astronaut was in a state of panic, shielding his helmeted face from both the energy and liquid threats, and upon closer examination, the robot was proffering a roll of toilet paper to the both of them. The caption of this image simply said "Oops, I missed!" Of far grimmer concern was the small second panel in the lower corner, showing a caricature of a FAST rocket crashing directly adjacent to a landing pad, captioned "Better aim next time! ".

Frank scrunched up the paper in his hand. He didn't need to read the article below, as he was certain it was full of misogynistic views regarding the unsuitability of women in space. But the problem it presented...

"Senator. I believe I see the point you're trying to make. I haven't been directly involved in the development of the space plane, nor any of its individual systems. Are you telling me that the space plane hasn't been engineered to uh, avoid this particular situation?"

John shook his head. "I can't say for sure, but you remember when the space plane program was authorized, the only approved crew was veterans from the Helios program, all of whom were male? It's only recently that the diversified crew initiative was started, and the new crew selection came almost immediately afterwards. You know I'm on one of the committees that handles budgeting for the space plane. Since then, I haven't seen any paperwork crossing my desk for approval of funding to redesign the lavatory, and you know ANY changes made to a program of this magnitude will cost money. So I highly suspect that this is a PR disaster waiting to happen if it's not ready in time for our intrepid ladies"

Frank gave an exasperated sigh. "Well. The space plane is already under construction, the crews are about to start training, and we need to make sure the redesign happens fast. Can you imagine the headlines if we had to delay the launch because we didn't attend to the basic needs of the crew?"

Senator Campbell shuddered. "Let's not allow that to happen. Can your engineers get it done? This is going to require a rush job, but also needs to be done correctly. They're running low on time here."

Frank shrugged. "They're smart. I'm sure they'll come up with something. I mean, the alternative..." he balled up the magazine page and tossed it at the wastepaper basket a few feet from his desk. It landed ineffectively short and he shook his head. "We can't afford to miss"

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Alan Bell pushed his wireframes glasses up his forehead, rubbing his eyes as the break room coffee maker hissed to life. Normally he'd be annoyed at having to make a new pot this early in the day, but honestly the headache he sported was totally worth it. The retirement party for Mr. Jenkins the previous night had been...nice, but the celebration after the man had left was one to be remembered. He'd stayed up later than he probably should have, and okay...maybe he shouldn't have had so much champagne. But the office was in good spirits. He'd had multiple people approach him on his impending promotion, and while he had to remind them that it wasn't yet official, it was true that he'd effectively taken over many of the duties already. And most people were happy with that fact; While Mr. Jenkins had been a skilled enough engineer, he was a product of the previous generation, rarely thought outside the box, and had quietly grumbled about the increasing diversity of the office when he thought no one was in earshot. Alan on the other hand was younger, barely pushing 30, more open minded, and people seemed genuinely happier to have him in the supervisory role.

Hatchstone Standard was one of many engineering contractors working with FAST to create the new spacecraft, and the business relationship had been very successful. Their area of expertise was interior human systems, those that kept the crew happy, healthy, and comfortable. They'd designed the interior of almost every manned spacecraft leading up to the Helios capsule, making sure that the astronauts could breathe, eat, sleep, and live comfortably in space. This meant that unlike many contractors, they often had a personal working relationship with the astronauts themselves, getting a first hand account of everything experienced and expected. It was one of the most interesting parts of the job.

Now, they were once again entrusted with the space plane, their biggest project yet. While the designs for everything were in their final stages, the contract was far from over. Every system manufactured had to be inspected, approved, installed, then inspected again before testing to make sure nothing could go wrong after launch. It was exciting work, and Alan was eager to dive back in after the previous night's festivities.

"I see I'm not the only one needing a boost to get going" a lightly accented voice said behind him.

Alan chuckled as he poured himself a cup of coffee before turning to the speaker, a woman with frizzly long red hair pulled back into a rough ponytail, wearing an ink-smudged drafting jacket.

"Amelia, just how in the world are you vertical right now? You drank twice as much as I did last night. Are you even going to be able to draw a straight line when you could barely walk one at the party?"

"Are you kidding me?" she laughed, green eyes full of mirth. "That was not drinking. That was a light celebration, if we'd had some proper highland whisky on the other hand..."

"Then no one on my team would be able to get work done today OR tomorrow" Alan shook his head. "I don't know who's bright idea it was to put a retirement sendoff on a Wednesday night. Regardless" he stepped aside and gestured to the carafe. "Fresh pot, I just made it myself."

"Yer a saint" Amelia laughed, purposefully exaggerating her accent. "Though, I should warn you. Old Dan came in just a few minutes ago and he looked so panicked you'd think a drafting table had caught fire. That usually means he'd have something urgent for Jenkins to look at, but seeing as you're the new assistant chief...."

Alan shook his head. "I told you all, I'm not assistant chief yet..."

"Bell! Has anyone seen Mr. Bell?!" a clearly stressed voice emanated from the hallway. "Dammit... I mean, darn it, I need to see him now!"

Amelia raised an eyebrow. "Yet... here we are. Go on, see what he wants before he knocks something over" she waved him away playfully.

Alan wryly raised his coffee cup in farewell and moved past her to see what their manager wanted. True to Amelia's prediction, he spotted Daniel Jones right as he spun around, his elbow accidentally knocking a tray of drafting tools off a drawing board, scattering the contents across the floor. Muttering a quick apology to the flustered occupant of the desk, he caught sight of Alan. "There you are! I need you in my office right now!"

"Is there a problem, sir?"

"Yes!" Daniel exclaimed before catching himself. "I mean...look, not a problem with you, but a problem that I need you on right away!" He turned and walked rapidly in the direction of his office, the implication clear.

Alan shrugged and gave an apologetic look at the engineer currently gathering up his tools from the floor before following.

"Close the door Alan. This is a very...sensitive matter" his boss said as Alan entered, taking a seat at his desk..

Alan complied, sitting down as his boss gestured to the chair opposite his. "Okay, so what is the issue at hand, Mr. Jones?"

"This just showed up." Mr. Jones pushed an opened manilla envelope labeled URGENT in bold red letters across the top of his desk. "This was hand delivered by a courier from the capitol. They took the red-eye flight to get it here. It's a problem with the space plane. One that if we don't fix fast, is going to be big trouble for the mission, and by extension, big trouble for us"

Alan raised a questioning eyebrow as he pulled the stack of documents out of the envelope. Catching sight of the first page, a blueprint, he frowned. "The zero-g toilet. That was one of Mr. Jenkin's designs."

"Yes, it was. And you helped him out extensively with it didn't you?"

Alan nodded. "Yes sir. I remember when it was assigned to our group people joked it was the shi...I mean, crappiest job we'd ever gotten. But it was important for the space plane, since it would be unbearable to spend two weeks or more using fecal waste pouches and condom catheters in space. I believe the final design was approved about 3 years ago, testing went well, and the final build that will be installed on the actual space plane is about to go into production."

"Yes, in about 2 months." Mr Jones nodded. "And now we have a big problem. Take a look at the next sheet."

Alan undid the paperclip holding another page to the blueprint. It was a photo of the crew for SPS-1, the first manned space plane launch.

"The first crew." Alan stated the obvious.

The seven astronauts were posed in front of an inspired backdrop, a silhouette of the space plane launching into the stars. Front and center, the mission commander, Kingston Heidemann, was the last person to set foot on the moon, now the first person to command the newest space vehicle. Pilot Titus Walezak stood to his immediate left, and to his right was the payload commander, Jen Akamine. Behind them stood Flight Engineer Tyler Hochadel, Payload Specialist Mable Harris, and mission specialists Lily Nicholson and Zach Hoskins. The faces of Jen, Mable, and Lily were circled, and the question "What do you expect them to do?" was written in the margin.

"Right. They were selected one year ago." Mr Jones grimaced. "Now....what was that you said about condom catheters being unbearable? How about unusable? And thus, by convention, anything of a similar form and function would be unusable?"

"Unusable..." Alan trailed off, then flipped back to the blueprint so fast the page nearly tore as he realized what his boss was getting at. "Oh shit!" he exclaimed as he saw that indeed, the current design slated for production was intended for astronauts with external waste fluid aiming anatomy.

"More like 'oh piss'" Mr Jones replied grimly. "Female crew members weren't on the radar when this design was approved. Sounds really stupid to say it now, and we're going to feel just as stupid if this isn't fixed. I'm sorry I didn't listen to some of the concerns about Jenkins, but he had such a long tenure it was almost impossible to get rid of him. The public will be furious as well; we've only JUST gotten work culture reforms to avoid harassment and reduce incidents of inequality in the workplace. And I don't want to have to tell Jen, Mable, and Lily that we completely forgot about them!"

Alan cringed. One last legacy of Mr. Jenkins to deal with. "Right. I don't either. So then, we're going to need to do a redesign of the urine collection system."

"Correct," Mr. Jones replied. "Just remember that we've got to keep it within approximately the same mass and size constraints as the original. It's also got to be universal for the entire crew; goes without saying that there's no space for separate mens and ladies rooms on board. This job is your top priority until it's resolved, Mr. Bell"

Alan blinked. "Mine? Pardon the question sir but..." he paused as he felt heat under his collar. "Wouldn't it be better to assign this to someone with personal experience with um, female plumbing, in order to do this correctly. This is also going to be an incredibly sensitive topic, especially when it comes to speaking to the crew about it. I know there's at least two women here that are competent enough to lead this"

Mr. Jones shook his head. "With Jenkins gone, you're the expert on this system. As quick as we need this done, I can't afford to put someone fresh in the lead. A major change like this to a system is also going to require a sign-off from someone of assistant chief or higher when it comes to submitting the work for production. And you know I'm not going to ask you to sign off work you haven't reviewed personally. Now as far as...plumbing experience, you have my authority to create a tiger team from whoever you think is going to be most capable in assisting you with modifying the design. Get me the names and I'll make sure their work is otherwise taken care of."

Alan nodded. "I can tell you I'm going to need Amelia McNeil and Lucille Delgada, the rest I'll know by this afternoon."

Seeing his boss nod in dismissal, he departed to his own newly appointed office. Once there he shut the door and spread out blueprints for the existing design. Unlike earthbound commodes, the zero-g toilet handled liquid waste separately from solid waste. This was due to the fact that urine could be purified and recycled into water that was perfectly safe for washing, drinking, and other uses during the mission. His attention focused on the design problem at hand; The urine collection system was a simple vacuum hose with a narrow funnel attached to the end. Easy enough to use even in zero gravity, provided one had the means to aim their stream. It was honestly the simplest part of the system, until now. And suddenly, he found himself pondering a question about female biology that he'd honestly never thought much about. While he was no virgin and knew the basics of female anatomy, that particular aspect of it...how exactly did that work?