"Roger roll, Discovery,” CAPCOM said through the tinny little receiver. My hands shook as I guided the spacecraft in response to this instruction.

    As Discovery slowly began to move into its correct position, I heaved a gentle sigh of relief, the pressure on my chest relenting for just a little while. “Pitching,” I said through the transmitter, not daring to take my eyes off for even the slightest of moments.

      “Good roll. Go with throttle up.”

***

           Just a little cold wind. That’s all it took.

          "Roger roll, Challenger,” I conveyed, sneaking a look at Gregory, who had his eyes glued onto the screen with the trajectory. A small part of me wondered whether or not his eyes would pop out of his head before Challenger dropped off the Spartan Halley spacecraft later today.

             Challenger rolled to align with the proper trajectory, functioning as it had been designed to.

Pitch… yaw… 

          "Challenger, go at throttle up," I said, mind far away, admittedly wondering what I’d have for lunch. All systems were a go. No cause for worry there. 

            In hindsight, I wish that I’d said something else. Then again, if I’d known, I would have stopped them. Stopped this. All of us in that room that day watching the sky would have stopped this.

          Too busy flipping through my papers, I barely registered the “Uh-oh” that came from Smith.

Barely registered the fact that the spacecraft, now just a million pieces streaking toward the Atlantic,

was no longer in one piece on the screen.

***

               “It’s getting awfully warm in here, Covey,” Hauck said to me. 

                 I looked at the controls. There, plain as the eye could see, the Flash Evaporator System had

iced up and shut down, and now we were sitting ducks in a cabin that was getting hotter and hotter by

the second. 

                  I closed my eyes.

***

           "One minute 15 seconds. Velocity 2,900 feet per second (1,977 mph). Altitude nine nautical miles. Downrange distance seven nautical miles,” Nesbitt said as the entire world watched in abject horror. Then, loud static. 

          Wait. It wasn’t in one piece at all. No, this couldn’t be happening.

          I stared at the screen.

          This would all be okay tomorrow. Just a nightmare is all… No, I’d be nestled in my warm nightclothes in my soft, comforting bed. I tried to pry my eyes open, as if I were nothing but a school boy. But no relief came.

          “This is mission control, Houston.”

***

         I carefully peeked out from behind my eyelids. Wait. I was still alive. My hands grasped the controls so tightly that I thought I might break.

         With the other hand, I touched my face. Still my face. As reality sunk in, I took in a shuddering breath and slowly let it out. I glanced down at the rest of me. I had lobbied for the suits to be changed to a bright orange, and there it was. Everything was just as it should be.

           I looked over to Nelson who was blinking, almost unable to believe that we were all still there and not incinerated. Luck had been on our side. 

          We were safe. 

           I looked out of the window as my breath caught with the beauty of it. From far away, my world would seem to just be a small marble– a tiny speck in the grand scheme of things. Someday, we will touch the stars, and I am content to know that I will be a stepping stone in the right direction.

          And then, just like that, all of my worries were left on a round blue sphere, slowly growing farther, and farther away.