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MidReal Story
Mission Crash
Scenario:Tense final days as a 1 mile asteroid makes a close approach to earth.
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Alex Chen
He is a Ph.D. student studying astrophysics at Harvard. He is intelligent, anxious, and determined. As a child, Alex was captivated by space exploration, inspired by his father. During his Ph.D., he focused on asteroid defense. As a 1mile asteroid approaches Earth, Alex's knowledge is put to the test. He tries to grasp the enormity of the situation while dealing with personal losses, including his father's passing.
1mile asteroid
It is a large object from space heading towards Earth. It is massive, mysterious, and threatening. The asteroid's origin and composition are unknown, fueling widespread concern as it enters Earth's orbit. Its projected path suggests it could hit the planet or burn up in the atmosphere, leaving humanity in suspense about its fate and the potential consequences for humanity.
Astrid
She is Alex Chen's girlfriend and a graduate student studying psychology at Harvard. She is supportive, empathetic, and levelheaded. Astrid provides emotional support for Alex during his stressful times, especially as the 1mile asteroid approaches Earth. They share moments of relief and concern but are ultimately prepared for the worst as they face their uncertain future together amidst the global panic.
It was supposed to be a normal day.
The first day of the semester, actually.
But it wasn’t normal.
Not at all.
I stared at my phone in horror.
The top story was about an asteroid.
A 1mile asteroid, to be exact, was heading straight for earth.
The scientists at NASA weren’t sure where it came from or what it was made of, but they were sure of one thing: it would hit us in three days.
There was nothing they could do to stop it.
I felt like I was going to throw up.
This was the reason I was here at Harvard getting my Ph.D. in astrophysics.
Asteroid defense was my focus, my passion.
And now…there was nothing I could do.
I thought back to when I was a kid, watching the moon landing with my dad.
He had been a huge space buff and he’d gotten me interested as well.
I thought about all the times we’d go out stargazing together, looking at the constellations and talking about what it would be like to explore them.
And then Ryker and I had joined the U.S. Air Force together, becoming fighter pilots.
We had been part of an elite group, flying F-15s, and it had been exhilarating, but also terrifying at times.
I was sitting in my dorm room, surrounded by stacks of books and papers about asteroid defense systems.
My phone buzzed again.
I looked down at the screen and saw a text from Astrid, my girlfriend.
"Hey, babe. Just wanted to check in and see how your first day is going."
I picked up the phone, my fingers hovering over the keyboard.
How could I tell her that the world was probably going to end in three days?
I typed out a few responses, but then deleted them.
This wasn’t something you could tell someone over text message.
But what else could I do?
I couldn’t just ignore her.
Finally, I settled on a simple response: "Have you seen the news?"
I hit send and waited for those three little dots to appear, indicating that she was typing out a response.
"Yeah, I saw it," Astrid replied, her voice shaky over the phone.
"Do you think there's anything you can do with all your research?" she asked, a hint of desperation in her tone.
I hesitated, then said, "There's one idea, but it's risky and I need Ryker's help."
I pulled up the research data I had been working on for months and shared my screen with Astrid over video chat.
She leaned forward, her eyes wide with concern as I walked her through the simulation models from my thesis.
The diagrams showed concentric circles of destruction: a 50-mile crater at ground zero, devastating shockwaves extending hundreds of miles, and potentially tsunamis if it hit the ocean.
"Can you explain that in simpler terms?"
Astrid asked, her brow furrowed.
I took a deep breath and tried to simplify it.
"If this thing hits land, we're talking massive destruction. The impact would create a crater that's roughly 50 miles wide and deep. The shockwave would travel hundreds of miles, leveling everything in its path. And if it hits the ocean, we're talking tsunamis that could wipe out coastal cities."
Astrid's face paled.
"And what about global effects? Would this be like a nuclear winter or something?"
I shook my head.
"No, not quite. The asteroid isn't big enough to cause an extinction-level event. But millions of people could die depending on where it hits."
My hands were shaking as I dialed Ryker's number.
My plan could either save an entire region or doom it.
I paced my dorm room as I explained the plan to Ryker.
"We could modify an F-15's targeting system to deliver a precise nuclear strike at the asteroid's weakest point. If we can get the calculations just right, we might be able to nudge it off course."
Ryker was quiet for a moment, then asked, "How do you plan on doing that?"
I pulled up the classified schematics from my Air Force days and walked him through it on my laptop screen.
The modifications would require overriding several safety protocols - technically illegal, but necessary in this situation.
Ryker interrupted with questions about payload specifications and approach vectors.
I explained how we'd need to use a combination of GPS and manual targeting to ensure accuracy.
Finally, I mentioned the 30% chance that the blast would fragment the asteroid into multiple pieces, potentially causing even more destruction.
There was a long silence on the other end of the line.
"Are you still there?"
I asked, wondering if we'd lost connection.
"Yeah," Ryker replied, his voice strained.
"Do you have access to the base's security codes?"
I opened my drawer and pulled out my old security badge.
"Yeah, I still have my badge, but it's risky," I said, glancing nervously at the door.
Ryker sighed heavily, "We don't have much choice; if we don't try, we're done for anyway."
Astrid chimed in, her voice steadying, "Then let's do it—I'll help coordinate from here and keep an eye on any updates."
I packed my laptop with the targeting system modifications and double-checked the USB drive containing the override codes.
Astrid helped me gather printouts of the asteroid's projected path, which I stuffed into my backpack.
Through the dorm window, I saw Ryker's black pickup truck pull into the parking lot.
My hands were still shaking as I loaded the equipment into his truck.
I knew the security protocols at the airbase were strict, but we had to try.
Ryker sat silently behind the wheel, his jaw clenched as he navigated through the crowded streets.
The drive took us past crowds of people boarding up windows, loading supplies, and some even praying on the sidewalk.
At a red light, Ryker finally spoke up, "Are you sure about these calculations?"
I pulled up the latest asteroid tracking data on my laptop, showing him the adjustments I made for the object's speed and rotation.
"The targeting system will account for wind resistance and trajectory. It's the best we can do with what we have," I explained.
The base's chain-link fence came into view as we turned onto the access road.
I rehearsed our cover story in my head: we were here for a routine systems check.
My hands still shook as I sorted through the forged maintenance orders I had created last night.
Ryker parked near the hangar, grabbed his duffel bag filled with tools and his flight suit, and looked at me one last time.
"Are you absolutely certain about these calculations?" he asked, his voice low and urgent.
I swallowed hard, feeling the weight of millions of lives on my shoulders.
"I've run them a hundred times," I said, my voice barely above a whisper.
"It's the only chance we have."
As we approached the security checkpoint, I gripped my old badge tightly in my hand, the edges digging into my palm.
I could feel the weight of the USB drive in my pocket, its contents potentially holding the fate of millions.
I rehearsed our cover story in my head one last time: we were here for a routine systems check, nothing out of the ordinary.
The guard eyed us warily as we approached, his hand resting on his holstered gun.
"Identification," he barked, his tone firm and unyielding.
I held up my badge, trying to keep my hand steady as he scrutinized it under the harsh light of the checkpoint.
It felt like an eternity before he finally handed it back to me, his gaze lingering on me a moment too long.
"Expired," he grunted, his voice dripping with suspicion.
My heart sank as he reached for his radio, calling for his supervisor.
I could feel Ryker's eyes on me, but I kept my gaze fixed on the ground, reciting orbital calculations in my head to keep myself calm. The minutes ticked by at a glacial pace as we waited for the supervisor to arrive.
I could feel the tension building in my chest, threatening to spill over into panic.
Finally, a tall man with a stern expression and a clipboard appeared at our side.
"What's the issue here?" he demanded, eyeing us both with suspicion.
Ryker stepped forward smoothly, extending a hand and greeting him by name.
"We're here for some urgent maintenance on the targeting systems," he explained, gesturing to the duffel bag slung over his shoulder.
The supervisor raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced.
"I wasn't notified of any scheduled maintenance," he said gruffly.
Ryker smiled easily, pulling out our forged paperwork and handing it over to him.
"Must have been an oversight. We're just here to make sure everything is functioning properly."
The supervisor scanned the paperwork carefully, his eyes narrowing as he compared it to something on his computer screen.
My heart pounded in my chest as I watched him work, willing myself not to look at Ryker or give anything away. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he looked up and waved us through with a curt nod.
"You're clear," he said gruffly.
"But next time make sure you get approval from command first."
I followed Ryker across the tarmac, my boots clicking against the concrete as we made our way to Hangar 7.
The late afternoon sun glinted off the metal doors, casting a golden glow over the entire scene.
Ryker swiped his keycard at the side entrance, and we slipped inside just as the sound of an incoming jet echoed through the air.
The F-15 sat in shadow, its sleek form familiar from my days as a pilot.
While Ryker did a walkaround inspection, I unzipped my backpack and pulled out my laptop, connecting it to the diagnostic port beneath the cockpit.
The targeting system interface flickered to life on my screen, rows of code and menus stretching out before me.
"Do you think they'll notice the changes once we're done?" Ryker asked, glancing over his shoulder.
"Not until it's too late," I replied, fingers flying over the keyboard.
He nodded, a hint of a smile playing at his lips.
I watch the progress bar inch forward on my laptop screen as the modified targeting software uploads to the F-15's systems.
Ryker leans over my shoulder, his breathing steady while mine comes in short bursts.
The hangar feels impossibly quiet except for the soft whir of cooling fans and the distant hum of aircraft.
A red warning message flashes on the screen: system authentication required.
My fingers fly across the keyboard, entering the override sequence I memorized from my research deep into the base's security protocols.
The targeting computer processes for several agonizing seconds, and then a clear tone sounds.
Green text flashes on the screen: "Upload Complete."
The system is ours.
I disconnect my laptop from the F-15's diagnostic port and carefully pack it away in my backpack.
Ryker does a final walk-around inspection of the jet, checking every panel and seal.
The only sound is the click of my equipment case closing and the distant rumble of aircraft taking off from another part of the base.
Through the hangar's windows, I notice that the sky has taken on an unusual orange tint - the asteroid is now visible even in daylight, a constant reminder of what's at stake.
Ryker returns from his inspection, gives me a confident thumbs-up, and climbs into the cockpit.
I hand him the USB drive containing the targeting coordinates, watching as he tucks it securely into his flight suit pocket.
We both know what's about to happen.
I stand back as Ryker begins his pre-flight checklist, methodically flipping switches in the cockpit.
The F-15's systems spring to life one by one - the soft glow of instrument lights, the hum of the hydraulic pumps, and the steady beep of the radar system.
Through the open hangar doors, I see base personnel turn their heads as the jet engines start spinning up with a high-pitched whine.
I grip my laptop case tighter, knowing we only have minutes before someone realizes this takeoff isn't authorized.
The roar builds to a deafening level as Ryker signals through the canopy for me to clear the area.
As I back away from the F-15, heavy footsteps echo through the hangar.
Colonel Richards, the base commander, strides toward us with two armed MPs at his side.
My heart races as I clutch my laptop case tightly to my chest.
We've been caught.
The MPs halt a few feet away, their guns drawn and trained on me.
Colonel Richards steps forward, his eyes fixed on the F-15 as it taxis out of the hangar.
"Colonel, you can't let this happen," one of the MPs says urgently.
Richards turns to them, his expression unreadable.
"Stand down," he orders, his voice firm but controlled.
The MPs lower their weapons hesitantly, confusion evident on their faces.
Richards pulls a folder from under his arm and opens it, revealing a stack of papers.
"We've been monitoring your movements since you arrived," he explains, his voice low and even.
"I have to admit, I'm impressed. You two are resourceful."
My mind races as I try to process what's happening.
Why isn't he stopping us?
What does he want?
Ryker's voice crackles over the intercom, cutting through the tension in the hangar.
"Clearance code required for takeoff."
Richards glances at me before turning back to Ryker.
He pulls out a pen and signs each of the papers in front of him before handing them to me.
"Here's your clearance code," he says calmly.
I take the papers from him, my hands shaking slightly as I read through them. It's an official authorization for a high-priority mission, signed by Colonel Richards himself.
But that's not all - there are also documents detailing full mission support from the base, including refueling and emergency backup systems.
And then there's a page that makes my blood run cold: authorization for a nuclear payload from their arsenal.
"What is this?"
I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.
Richards meets my gaze steadily.
"We've seen the same simulation data you have," he explains calmly.
"We know what's at stake."
"But... why?"
I stammer, trying to make sense of what's happening.
"Why are you helping us?"
Ryker leans out of the cockpit window, his eyes fixed intently on Richards.
"What happens if we fail?"
Richards' expression remains unreadable as he looks at Ryker.
"If you fail, we all do," Richards replies, his voice carrying a weight that silences the hangar.
Ryker nods slowly, understanding the gravity of the situation.
"Then let's make sure we don't," he says, determination hardening his voice.
I nod at Ryker, climb into the cockpit, and take the helmet from him.
He hands it to me, his eyes locked on mine with a silent understanding.
I strap myself in, feeling the weight of our mission settle on my shoulders.
Ryker starts the pre-flight checklist, methodically going through each system.
The engines roar louder, vibrating through the aircraft as I adjust the controls.
Colonel Richards watches from the hangar entrance, his expression unreadable.
As I finish the checklist, I glance up at the sky through the canopy.
The asteroid is visible even in daylight now - a glowing red dot hanging ominously above us.
Ryker gives me a final thumbs-up before stepping back from the jet.
I radio for clearance, my voice steady despite the tension in my chest.
"Clearance code received," comes the response from air traffic control.
Colonel Richards steps closer, his voice barely audible over the engine noise.
"We've got one shot at this," he says, his eyes locked on mine.
"Make it count."
I push the throttle forward, feeling the F-15 surge down the runway.
The engines roar louder, and I grip the controls tightly as the jet gains speed.
Colonel Richards and Ryker watch from the hangar entrance, their faces tense with anticipation.
The asteroid looms larger in the sky, its red glow intensifying as we lift off.
I keep my eyes on the instruments, adjusting course as the jet climbs higher into the sky.
The airbase falls away behind us, and I feel a rush of adrenaline mixed with fear as we head toward our destination.
I radio Ryker one last time to confirm everything is in place.
"Targeting system online," he responds, his voice steady over the comms system.
"Payload ready."
I take a deep breath, mentally preparing myself for what's to come.
"Roger that," I reply, my voice firm despite the nerves knotting in my stomach.
The world holds its breath as we ascend into the unknown.
I level the F-15 at cruising altitude, the asteroid looming larger in the sky.
I activate the targeting system, watching the screen as it searches for the asteroid's core.
The cursor blinks, seeking a lock.
My hands tremble on the controls, but I focus on the task at hand.
The system beeps, indicating a partial lock.
I adjust the settings, fine-tuning the aim.
Ryker's voice crackles over the radio, his words steady despite the tension in his voice.
"Stay steady," he urges.
I take a deep breath, my eyes fixed on the screen.
The cursor finally locks onto the asteroid's core with a solid tone.
"Lock confirmed," I say, my voice steady despite my racing heart.
"Engaging payload sequence."
"Wait," Ryker's voice cuts through, urgency lacing his words.
I hesitate, my finger hovering over the button.
"There's something you need to know," he continues, his tone grave.
