ALTERNATE TALES OF THE STAR FORCE

STAR BLAZERS---TREACHERY

Being the second part of THE NEW COMET--- BY: Frederick P. Kopetz


This Act is being completed with the Cooperation and Assistance of Derek A.C. Wakefield (as usual)---Freddo


ACT EIGHT: A WINTER OF DISCONTENT


I. FIRST DATE (kind of…)

Earth

The Vicinity of the Space Fighters’ Training School

Greatland’s Coffee Shop: Kawaguchi

Friday, October 4, 2205

1900 Hours: Earth Time


Deke Wakefield entered the Greatland’s Coffee Shop alone (it was part of a planet-wide chain), not quite knowing what to expect.

Well, I’m here, he thought. But where’s Sasha? She said she’d be in blue, and…

Deke’s thoughts, heart, and soul came to a screeching stop when he first spotted Sasha sipping decorously at a cup of coffee. She wore a white turtleneck, blue jacket and skirt, and charcoal-colored boots that matched her belt. But, it wasn’t quite her apparel that made his heart stop.

 

It was her face. Never had he known that Sasha was hiding a gorgeous blonde mane of hair quite like hers, nor had he known how attractive her rounded face was.

 

What’s this? Deke thought. She’s gorgeous, and, shit, I don’t even like blondes! But…what a blonde! Ghod! I thought Mrs. Wildstar was attractive! But her? She makes the great heroine Nova look like a dog by comparison! WOW!

 

Sasha looked up from her coffee just long enough to smile and call Deke over with two fingers that were up in a playful “come-thee-hither” gesture.

 

Deke came over and sat down.

 

However, unknown to him, off in a corner of the coffee shop, Brew was sitting with some of his homework. His eyes nearly popped out when he saw Deke sitting down with Sasha.

 

What? Brew thought. Deke’s with a girl? And she’s a blonde? Sticks doesn’t have a thing for blondes! What’s goin’ on here, bro? Woo, this is some crazy shit!

 

“What do you want?” he asked.

 

“I’m treating,” Sasha replied in a quiet voice.

 

“But…”

 

“I’ve got more than enough money,” replied Sasha. For her, that was indeed the case; after all, she owned a good part of the wealth of Iscandar, and her family made sure that she had ample credits in the bank here on Earth. “Now, would you put your tongue back in your face and sit down, Deke?”

 

“Uh…sure.”

 

The waitress came over a moment later and handed Deke a menu. He ordered a latte and a pastry, determined that he’d at least help Sasha with the tip.

 

“Did you hear about Hartcliffe the other night in the Rat?” began Deke.

 

Sasha giggled at that. “I’ve heard. News gets around fast about that character. Is he really that bad?”

 

“Yes, he is,” said Deke, who almost regretted bringing up the subject. “And he thought it was funny to pinch his wife’s butt in public on the way out. He got Nova once, too.”

 

“My God,” said Sasha as a blush came to her face. “He’s like a human IQ-9 or something.”

 

Deke was puzzled for a moment until several of Nova’s passages in her book about the perverted “genius robot” came to his mind all at once. “You mean that Ninth Class robot?”

 

“No, she means me,” said a little red tin can that zipped up on its tracks.

 

Sasha put a hand over Deke’s wrist and smiled, as if she was teasingly saying, “Please protect me from the tinwit!”  Deke not only didn’t object, he also smiled back.

 

This be crazy, thought Brew as he watched Deke and Sasha over his book. He’s not only forgotten about his squirrel, he’s letting this second-year babe touch his hand and he’s smilin! What’s wrong with you, Deke? Get that gloomy crap taken outta yo’ head at last?

 

Deke couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing as he looked at the robot. “So you’re the famous IQ-9?”

 

“Yes, I am a certified genius. I’m here with Doctor Sane.”

 

“I hear you’re a certified lunatic” said Sasha with a smile. She winked at Deke and said, “Are you gonna try to lift my skirt, IQ?”

 

“NO” said Deke as Sasha laughed softly. “Don’t encourage him, Sasha. He’ll…”

 

“Don’t worry,” said IQ-9. “I only do that to her Au….I mean, function call messed up…I mean, I only do that to Nova!”

 

“Get over here, you!” yelled a little fireplug of a man who seemed to be adding something from a bottle to his espresso. “Nova’s not here tonight, IQ-9!”

 

“Yeah, we know that!” called out Sasha, who immediately put her hands over her mouth and grinned at Deke.

 

“You’re encouraging him,” said Deke.

 

“Teasing him,” repeated Sasha.

 

“Same thing,” said Deke.

 

“I like being a tease,” said Sasha as she smiled at Deke again. The spell of her sparkling, happy eyes was something new for Deke; he vaguely remembered only how serious Dawn was all the time, having forgotten the good times they had once shared.

 

He again found himself holding hands with Sasha as he smiled back at her “tease” comment.

 

Brew couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Now he’s smiling at her like an idiot, he thought. I think the world’s about to end. Deke actually looks happy. Deke’s actually scoring with a chick. Shit. Holeeee shit.

 

Brew looked at another cadet sitting there. “Dude, I’m gonna have to buy me a jacket?”

 

“Why,. Brew?” asked this cadet, who vaguely knew him.

 

“Because, my friend, Hell is about to freeze over.” He just pointed towards Wakefield, and his friend nodded.

 

“Function call negatory,” said IQ-9. “She sort of looks like Nova and sort of smells like Nova, but she is not Nova. Of course, the explanation is simple, because…”

 

“Well, don’t let the whole damn world know it!” yelled Doctor Sane. “Get over here!”

 

“Bye, lovebirds” said IQ-9 as his dome flashed.

 

“Lovebirds?” said Deke.

 

“Well, you are holding my hand,” said Sasha. She laughed again. “That robot is a real nutcase.”

 

“So, where are you from?” asked Deke.

 

“Someplace,” said Sasha softly as she smiled at him and looked into his eyes.

 

Damn, those eyes, he thought. Why are they so beautiful?

 

“Where’s someplace?” asked Deke.

 

“Someplace far away,” said Sasha, as she thought, Let’s be cagey here…I think that’ll get him more interested…“My dad’s a military officer and my mom’s kind of a scholarly type. Mom doesn’t get out very much. Dad and I have always tried to get her to see more of the world, but she likes her books and staring at the ocean too much.”

 

“So you’re from somewhere around the coast?” asked Deke.

 

“You could say that,” said Sasha. “Where are you from?”

 

San Diego.”

 

“Neat, we’re both from the coast.”

 

“Like to surf by any chance?”

 

“I like the water,” said Sasha. “What’s surfing?”

 

What’s surfing?” repeated Deke. “You’re from around the shore in California someplace and you don’t know what surfing is?”

 

Sasha laughed. “Okay, I’ve seen one of my brothers doing it; I think. Is that where you put your bare feet on a board and try and ride a wave?” She knew about the concept of surfing, but because she had experienced it only on Iscandar, she didn’t know the Terran English word for it!

 

“Bingo,” said Deke. “I’m not half bad at it. I used to surf before the bombings…”

 

“The terrible planet bombings,” sighed Sasha. She shut her eyes and wiped at a tear a moment later, knowing from her unique perspective (since she had not been on earth during the bombings) that it wasn’t wise to say much more about something she had not lived through. But she had plenty of opinions about it that she kept to herself as she bit her lip and tried to hold back tears. Mother, she thought. I can’t understand your logic. Why couldn’t you have done more? People were dying. Why did you have to make the fate of Earth some kind of abstract case? I would never have done that…if I were on the throne. I….me…on the throne? Sure, like that’ll ever happen. I’m like the Princess everyone in the family forgot.

 

“Did you lose someone close to you in the war, Sasha?”

 

“Yes,” she said. “A dear aunt of mine.”

 

“I’m sorry,” said Deke.

 

A dear Aunt I never even met, Sasha thought. “Who did you lose in the war?” she said in a small voice that sounded as if she was on the verge of crying. Deke didn’t feel comfortable pushing her much further, but he knew her question deserved an answer. After a moment, he said, “I lost both of my parents and my sister…damn those Gamilons!”

 

“Gamilon has always been like that,” said Sasha. “They were supposed to be so advanced, they should damn well know better! I could never figure out from my readings why such an advanced race could be so morally barbaric. Again…they should know better!”

 

“Yeah, they should,” said Deke. “And Iscandar should have done more, too.”

 

“Explain your logic?” said Sasha in a quiet voice as she dabbed at her tears. “So we don’t get upset at each other, let’s consider this like a class exercise.”

 

“Okay,” said Deke. “Queen Starsha, she knew we were dying, right?”

 

“Right.”

 

“And she knew she had a cure for our situation on her planet, right?”

 

“Right.”

 

“Why did she not send Astra here years before, before millions, no…billions, were killed by the planet bombs? And then, why did she insist that we had to come get the Cosmo-DNA like a few gross tons of Chinese take-out with our own ship? And why did she not Goddamn tell us that Iscandar was smack next to Gamilon?”

 

“The texts said she wanted to test the mettle of the people of Earth,” said Sasha. “The texts and the stories and press releases we’ve read. And the Star Force went right along with it.”

 

“Do you agree with that?”

 

“Hell no,” snapped Sasha. And that is the big difference between Mother and I, she thought. “When a baby needs a vaccine, do you see how loudly he can cry, first?” said Sasha. “No. You give him the vaccine and see to the rest later. In some ways, Starsha was almost as bad as Desslok in his inhumanity.”

 

“Bingo,” said Deke. “You know, most people don’t think that way. They think Starsha was all-wise, like some goddess or something.”

 

“She is not and was not all-wise,” said Sasha with some vehemence.

 

“This is interesting,” said Deke. “How do you know that?”

 

Well, I can’t tell you Mom and I had a big argument over the wave motion communicator the other day, thought Sasha, so…have to improvise again…”Well,” said Sasha. “Would you agree with the basic notion that all people are fallible?”

 

“Yes, I damn well do.”

 

“Queen Starsha, despite her ‘I see all and know all’ bit, is just as fallible as you and I, Deke,” said Sasha, ignoring some of the dirty looks that were being shot in her direction from throughout the coffee shop.

 

From his place, Brew was actually surprised that Deke had not only apparently snagged a blonde, but one with brains and strong moral principles, to boot. Again, this is just crazy, he thought. Almost wanna go over and talk with her, but…no…don’t wanna spoil the moment.

 

From her place at the table, Sasha continued, saying, “About Starsha. She’s just human. She can screw up. And with the matter of Earth, I think she did screw up. I agree with you. She could have saved us years before she really did.”

 

“Match and set,” said Deke. “I haven’t met a lot of people who think that way, Sasha…”

 

“Well, you haven’t met me,” said Sasha. “Oh. My full name is Sasha Petrovsky. Yours is Deke Wakefield, if I remember correctly.”

 

“You do.”

 

From his post at the table, Doctor Sane breathed a sigh of relief. Not bad, he thought. She didn’t spill the beans. I can report to Nova later on that Sasha can go on a date and provide wonderful conversation that doesn’t provide a clue to who she really is.

 

“I wish Nova and Wildstar would hurry up and get here,” said Doctor Sane.

 

“I hope Nova has a skirt on,” said IQ-9, who was thinking, Logic dictates: Sasha needs to be distracted so she will not give away her identity here. Logic dictates: Nova’s behind is adorable. Logic Dictates: I LOVE Nova. Logic Dictates: I must tease Nova when she comes in here to distract Mister Wakefield from asking Sasha too many questions. QED.

 

“You would,” said Doctor Sane.

 

The little bell above the door dinged, and Commodore Derek Wildstar walked in his black peacoat and Academy whites, followed by Nova, who wore her Academy whites, a flight jacket, sandals, and…of course…

 

…a skirt.

 

IQ-9’s sensors lit up like crazy at that.

 

“Where were you two?” yelled Doctor Sane. “You’re late again! BOTH of you!”

 

Ooo, Nova’s here, thought Brew from behind his book. And so’s the tinwit. This is gonna get good. Almost as good as Deke and Mystery Lady over there.

 

“Checking out the ship after class,” said Derek as Nova stretched and yawned.

 

At their table, Deke and Sasha ignored the Wildstars for the moment as Deke’s coffee came. He drank some of it as Sasha asked him, “So, what’s your major?”

 

“Flight operations, specifically, being a fighter pilot. I know you don’t have a major yet being in second year, but, what are you interested in?”

 

“Navigation. Radar Ops. I like working with numbers and things. I’m pretty good with integral calculus, applied calculus, et cetera…”

 

“Good,” said Deke. “I was fairly good at that, but I have an applied math test coming up soon for one of my classes…couldja look at these equations?”

 

“Sure,” said Sasha as she took Deke’s notebook as he took it out of his gear bag. “Hmm,” said Sasha. “These are tricky equations you have here.”

 

Are you familiar with them?” he asked.

 

“Please don’t be so condescending,” said Sasha with a minor look of annoyance on her face. “I’m familiar with Belkamp’s Theorem; but there’s at least five ways you can calculate this set of terms and this navigational curve. This is for flying a fighter, right?”

 

“Right. Suborbital approach on a moving target. This is for sketching out the basic curve pre-flight in case your computer fails.”

 

“Well,” said Sasha. “You’d start it like this…”

 

At their table, Doctor Sane asked, “So how was your day, Nova?”

 

“Did so much walking around today my feet hurt. It’s been a long day,” said Nova as she stood on tiptoes. “Hi, IQ. What’s up?”

 

“Look down,” piped IQ-9.

 

Nova did, and she saw that IQ-9 had raised her skirt…in “stealth” mode. She turned red and outraged as she realized that her half-slip, bare legs (one playfully clad with a trick garter for Derek’s eyes only later that night for Operation Stork), and silken panties were on display for the entire clientele of the coffee shop. Some people began to applaud and clap.

 

At his table, Brew ducked down further behind his book, trying to make sure that Deke did not see him there. Still, he couldn’t resist the temptation to steal a glance at Nova from over his book. He did notice from his perspective that in her partially pulled-up skirt and slip, her panties clothed a very nice-looking behind. He licked his lips before he hid his face again.

 

“What’s going on?” said Deke as he looked up from the math that Sasha was writing.

 

“Look to the right, Deke!” whispered Sasha, who did NOT want to be overheard. “Nova and IQ-9! They’re so funny!”

 

Deke looked; then, he sat there with his eyes popping out of his head just before Sasha looked over again, blushed, and began to giggle her head off softly.

 

From his perch, Brew had put down his book, and he was clapping and laughing along with all of the other males in the place. Some of the waitresses (who looked fairly cute in their uniforms, which included ruffled blouses, skirts, and white nurses’ sandals similar to the sort Nova had on) looked rather annoyed at the lunacy that was going on in the shop all of a sudden.

 

After the hubbub faded a little bit, Brew’s friend told him, “Hey, Marrable.”

 

“What?”

 

“Don’t you have to go see Hartcliffe tonight in his office about that flight schedule tomorrow? The guy’s keeping late hours tonight.”

 

“Right,” said Brew. “Hey, Redland, we gotta go. Although the timin’ sucks,” he said. “And I gotta change my uniform before that damn Hartcliffe gigs me for these here coffee stains.” So, Brew and Redland left together a moment later.

 

“What a nut, Deke!” cried Sasha. “And we were actually here to see it! Nova looks so funny when she gets mad!”

 

“Don’t look too much,” said Deke.

 

“Isn’t it funny?” said Sasha.

 

“Yes, but she might give us boo-koo demerits for it,” said Deke.

 

“You have a point there, Deke,” said Sasha with a smile.

 

Stop that!” snapped Commodore Wildstar at the little robot.

 

“YEAH! PUT DOWN YOUR DAMN HAND, TINWIT!” cried Nova.

 

“Yes, your underwear matches your toenails, just wanted to check,” said IQ-9.

 

Nova grabbed Doctor Sane’s sake bottle, stood back, and popped the cork. Then, she poured as much as she could over IQ-9’s dome.

 

“What are you doing? WHAT are you doing?”

 

“Giving you hiccups,” snapped Nova as she slammed the bottle of sake back down on the table and smoothed down her skirt. “Sorry, Doctor,” said Nova. “I’ll reimburse you later. Maybe this’ll help reprogram him!”

 

“You’d better reimburse me for that; that was good sake,” said Sane with a growl.

 

“You’re a vet, Doc,” said Nova. “You’d better get the soldering iron and help me get him neutered!”

 

“Won’t work,” piped IQ.

 

“Not necessarily,” said Nova. “I’ve tried…”

 

“You’re crap with working with integrated circuits, Nova,” said IQ, with all of the social grace of a bratty four-year old (and one with a potty mouth; Nova had just learned that he now thought it was “cute” to curse)

 

“I’m getting better at it,” grinned Nova wickedly. “I did reprogram you so you wouldn’t look in the shower at me.”

 

“Too bad,” said IQ.

 

“Why?” said Dr. Sane.

 

“You know that Nova is a work of art when she’s naked,” piped up IQ.

 

Nova blushed strongly at that as she thought Not everyone here needs to know that!  She wondered what IQ would think of what she sometimes wore to sunbathe in her yard (nothing) and then thought I don’t need to encourage him!

 

“Nova, let’s go get our coffee,” said Derek. “You look….”

 

“Embarrassed,” she said in a small voice.

 

“They have waitresses here, sir!” called out Sasha, hoping that her uncle wouldn’t make sure she was wearing her guts for garters later on.

 

“No they don’t,” growled Commodore Wildstar.

 

“She’s right, they do have waitress service here,” said Nova as she sat down, and pointedly put her purse on her skirt under the table. “C’mon, IQ,” said Nova. “Sit, boy!”

 

“Sure, Nova,” said IQ-9, who let an extendo-hand slip between the back of Nova’s chair and the seat of her chair as he zipped past.

 

Oooooooooooo” hissed Nova as she felt a hand on her tush.

 

“And that’s the end of that first proof,” said Sasha, who looked up and began to laugh again.

 

“What?” said Deke.

 

Sasha mouthed “look” as Deke looked over to see Nova looking very uncomfortable, and then relaxing as IQ-9 withdrew his hand.

 

“Remind me to keep him away from the graduation party,” said Deke.

 

“Why?” laughed Sasha. “He’s a riot. And he only picks on Nova.”

 

“How do you know that?”

 

“Scuttlebutt,” said Sasha. “Now, let me show you proof #2, the Campbellian Method of solving this nav-curve.”

 

In the meantime, at their table, Nova was kicking IQ-9’s treads; in her sandals, she could feel him gently trying to play footsie against her toes under the table, and it was driving her nuts. IQ, what the hell did you put in your batteries this morning? Nova thought in a very irritated fashion. She and Derek had had a very rough day, and she was in no mood for Tinwit’s games this evening.

 

“What’s wrong, Nova?” asked Derek, who looked very indignant at this game.

 

“I should have brought my guitar tonight, Derek,” hissed Nova. “The solid-body Fender, preferably.”

 

“Why?” said IQ-9.

 

So….I…can…brain you with…it!” hissed Nova as she made a pair of fists.

 

“IQ, stop it,” said Commodore Wildstar flatly.

 

“Do I have to?”

 

“It’s an order,” hissed Derek. A moment later, his conversation with Nova, Doctor Sane, and IQ-9 just faded into the general hubbub of the place below the soft pop music piped in over the speakers, and Deke and Sasha heard no more of it.

 

At their table, Deke asked, “I wonder how often that happens? With Mrs. Wildstar, I mean? That robot is a class-A pervert!”

 

“More often than you think,” said Sasha. “I’ve talked to her a bit about it.”

 

“And?”

 

“Well, she’s trying to come up with some measure to stop him…but I don’t know if she’ll ever succeed or not.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Let’s say a little bird told me,” said Sasha sweetly. She checked her watch and said, “It’s almost twenty hundred. Before I have to hit my quarters, I have to show you those other three proofs.”

 

“Okay, wanna stay here?”

 

“No, let’s go to your room and finish this stuff.”

 

“My room? Uh, why?”

 

“Don’t you have reference books and a computer there? Also, I’m just curious. Never seen a pilot’s room before,” shrugged Sasha, who was again subtly lying; she had seen the master bedroom her aunt and uncle shared quite a few times in the past.

 

Strangely enough, Deke couldn’t find any reason not to go along with Sasha’s logic on this one. So, after she paid their check and he left the tip, they left.

 


 

A few minutes later, Deke and Sasha arrived back at the dorm where Deke and Brew dwelt.

 

As Sasha and Deke went down the hall on their floor, Sasha said, “So this is your dorm?”

 

“Uh-huh.”

 

“It’s a little bigger than mine,” said Sasha, who stepped through the door as Deke opened it.

 

They were quite surprised as they strode into Deke and Brew’s room. In the middle of the room stood Brew, who stood there naked as a jaybird, amidst a pile of clothing and various whatnots, holding his empty sea chest over his head and shaking it to see if anything else would fall out.

 

“What?” said Deke.

 

“Yo, man, what’d you do with my other belt buckle?” yelled Brew as he looked at Deke. But then, when he noticed Sasha standing there looking at his nudity, Brew howled “Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaargggghhhhh!!” in panic as he dropped his sea chest down to cover himself.

 

“Ohhhh NO!” Sasha screamed as she quickly stepped back out and slammed the door.

 

At that, Deke just died laughing.

 

“GODDAMNMUTHERFUHSONUFABITCH!!!” Brewski rattled off angrily as he looked for a towel. “Deke, what lousy timing, bringing a girl up to our room!”

 

“I’m sorry, Brew…I didn’t know!” Sasha called out from the other side of the door.

 

“Now you do!” Deke yelled laughing. “Brewski’s secret’s out. News at ten, film at eleven. Erection results as they happen.”

 

“SCREW YOU MAN, GO TO HELL, DEKESTICKS!!” Brew spat as the adrenaline pumped through his body waking him up good. Once he caught his breath, he said in a calm, even tone, “Sasha? You can come back in now.”

 

“Yes?” she said uneasily.

 

“Do ya need something, Miss?” Brewski asked in a cordial tone, still holding his sea chest over his midsection.

 

“Uh…uh…damn. Oh yes! Deke and I were planning to study up here tonight. Could you please make yourself at least minimally decent? I wonder why he was like that, Deke? I mean, stark…”

 

“Oh, you know, Sasha. Brewski has to do his daily sea chest shuffle,” Wakefield said, still red faced from laughing. “Brew, meet Midshipman Sasha Petrovsky. Sasha, meet Jere “Brew” Marrable, my roommate and best friend.”

 

“Pleased to make your acquaintance,” smiled Sasha. She noticed that Brew was still holding his sea chest, and she said, “I’d offer my hand, except that I’m not sure what part of your anatomy I should shake. Both your hands…and…other parts of you…are pretty…uh…big.”

 

Deke sat down on his bunk and began laughing like a maniac again while punching his mattress.

 

“You know, Deke,” said Brew as Sasha walked around and sat down beside Deke on the bunk. “I’ll have to pay you back for this, you rotten, lousy, stinkin’…”

 

“Watch the language, Brew. There’s a lady present.”

 

“And plenty of rear ends,” said Sasha. “Both on the wall and in front of me,” she said as she pointed at Brew’s hentai collection of wall posters and then gestured towards Brew’s own dark bottom. “Mister Marrable, why do you have all of these pictures of ladies’ behinds on your bulkheads? Is he running some kind of house of ill repute in here, Deke?”

 

“Why do you say that?” said Brew. “Deke, I need a mother…”

 

“What do you need?” said Deke.

 

“A towel, man, a towel! Get that first!”

 

“Shut your eyes, Miss Petrovsky,” said Deke with a smile as he gave her a peck on the forehead. Sasha shut them with a little smile on her face as Deke helped Brew cover himself with a towel. Then, Deke said, “Brew, why’d you have to make this joint look like some kind of disaster area?”

 

“Lookin’ for my other belt buckle, man. I gotta see Hartcliffe in…thirty minutes in his office, and my uniform’s messed up as shit.”

 

“So’s this room,” said Deke. “I swear, if some officer pulled a surprise inspection now, we’d have all of our asses in such a sling that we’d…”

 

A moment later, a bang came on the hatch outside. Three bangs, authoritative and hard.

 

The usual signal that an officer was about to enter the room.

 

“Oh….” Deke said.

 

“Holy motherofgod…” said Brew.

 

“..shit,” said Sasha.

 

Sasha was the only one who had enough presence of mind to yell out, “ROOM, TENSHUN!” as the door burst open…

 

…and her aunt and uncle came together into the room.

 

Sasha was at attention.

 

So was Deke.

 

Brew had been obliged to set down the sea chest. But, when he came to attention, his towel had fallen off and was puddled in folds of cloth around his toes.

 

As a result, when Nova Wildstar scanned the room, the first thing she happened to observe was…

 

…Brew’s anatomy hanging out in the open.

 

Commodore Wildstar looked like he was about to yell, but Nova just shushed him and said, “Toad, I think it’s getting a little cold in here, isn’t it?”

 

“Ma’am?” he said.

 

“Looks like someone’s let the air out of your little friend,” she said as she gestured at the appropriate body part with a pen. She then gingerly kicked aside an abandoned rank pin with her sandaled foot (being very careful not to get the pin caught in her big toe) and said, “Mister Wakefield, were we having a scavenger hunt in here?”

 

“No…no excuse, ma’am,” he said with a gulp.

 

“Definitely no excuse, sir…” said Sasha, who immediately regretted opening her mouth.

 

“Damn straight there isn’t,” said Derek Wildstar with an evil glare. “I believe you midshipmen are aware of the regulations regarding how one is to keep their quarters?”

 

“Yessir,” they all said in unison.

 

“And, Mister Marrable, I believe one is supposed to be in uniform…especially with visitors present in one’s room?”

 

“Sir, I can explain,” began Sasha.

 

“I was not speaking to you, Miss Petrovsky; you will let me carry on this conversation with these two other midshipmen!” snapped Derek.

 

“But, sir,” she said.

 

“Let’s begin with her. Nova, write her up for disobedience of a direct order: ten and five,” said Wildstar as he tossed Nova a demerit pad. “Oh, write up the other two for poor maintenance of quarters, make those two fifteen hours’ each, too.”

 

“Yessir,” said Nova as she took the pad while Deke and Brew’s faces dropped.

 

“SIR!” said Sasha.

 

“Miss Petrovsky, don’t make it worse. I was speaking to Mister Marrable? Mister Marrable, is there a good reason why you have your sea chest upside down on the deck, your clothing scattered all over the place, and why you are here stark naked with a lady present?”

 

“Two ladies,” added Nova. “Even though I have seen everything Mister Marrable has to offer already. It’s just the usual.”

 

“Ma’am, you’re not remembering that time back in Boulder when…”

 

“I am,” grinned Nova. “Derek, at home in Boulder, I once found this young man in my room stripping off a wet swimsuit when he wasn’t supposed to go swimming that day. I hid the evidence and sent him out of the room with a pair of my shorts covering up his aft portion.”

 

“Ma’am, not that story,” said Brew.

 

Nova smiled. “No impropriety here, Derek. I think. Even though I remember he looked VERY cute in my pink shorts.”

 

“So, how did you come to be bare in this room, in front of the current company?”

 

“Here’s his pen, Derek,” said Nova.

 

“How’d you find it?”

 

“Got caught in my sandal between my heel and the bottom,” she said dryly.

 

“Well?” said Derek.

 

“Sir, I was lookin’ through my shi…I mean…stuff…for a clean uniform because I have to see Hartcliffe in fifteen minutes. Then, these two just walked right in on me, and gave me very little warnin’! I got a towel on, but it fell off. You know the rest…”

 

“He still has an obsession with ladies’ behinds,” said Nova with a sense of awe on her face as she wrote like crazy on her pad while looking at his poster collection on the bulkheads. She reached down and handed him a towel. “Put it on, Mister.”

 

“At attention, ma’am?” he said.

 

“Oh,” she said. “Commodore?”

 

Derek nodded. “At ease, people.”

 

They went to at-ease.

 

“I’ll tell you what,” said Derek as he looked at Nova’s pad and stopped her pen. “I’ll just give you the fifteen hours each and nothing more that Mrs. Wildstar has already gigged you three for if you three can make this room shipshape in…oh…fifteen minutes. I could do more, but if this place looks decent, we’ll go with that.”

 

“And that includes dressing Mister Marrable,” said Nova with a wink.

 

“Sir, I’ll be late for my appointment,” said Brew.

 

“You’ll be in much worse trouble if this place doesn’t transform itself from a shithole into a proper set of cadets’ quarters in fourteen minutes,” said Derek.
“Nova, let’s go down to the lounge and get some coffee out of a machine while they work.”

 

“Sure,” said Nova in a soft voice. Then she said, “You people got that?”

 

“Aye, aye,” said Deke.

 

“MOVE IT, THEN!” yelled Nova as she slammed the hatch with an evil smile on her face.

 

“Well?” said Sasha.

 

“You heard the lady,” said Deke.

 

“Please help us clean up,” said Brew.

 

“All right…but you two WILL owe me,” sang Sasha as she joined the two midshipmen on their knees cleaning the mess up.

 

While they cleaned up the mess, Sasha noticed a picture of a very attractive young woman on Deke’s desk. “Who is she? Is she a relative?”

 

“Nope, she’s his squirrel,” said Brew.

 

“Squirrel?” said Sasha, who was totally puzzled.

 

“She has a fuzzy tail,” said Brew.

 

“Brew, shut up,” said Deke.

 

“Fuzzy tail?” said Sasha.

 

“It’s a long story, Sasha, trust me,” said Deke as he picked more stuff up.

 

“You’re blushing,” said Brew.

 

“Why are you blushing?” said Sasha.

 

“Think of the implications of….a fuzzy…,” said Brew.

 

“Fuzzy what?” said Sasha in all innocence.

 

Then, Sasha just happened to pick up a magazine that belonged to Brew. “What kind of book is this? I…”

 

Then, something fell open. It was the centerfold. Miss November was on it.

 

“Fuzzy tail; squirrel,” said Brew as he pointed at the proper portion of the centerfold model’s anatomy while Deke and Sasha turned red.

 

“That’s a squirrel,” muttered Deke. “He insists on calling Dawn that.”

 

“Who’s Dawn?”

 

“Old friend,” said Brew while Deke slammed the magazine shut.

 

“I can’t believe how crude you are,” said Sasha in an indignant little voice. “Brew, you have this thing for…”

 

“Squirrel. Now do you understand the concept of ‘squirrel, Sasha?’”

 

“I think I want to just die,” said Sasha in a tiny little voice.

 

“That makes two of us,” said Deke.

 


 

Two days later, Deke encountered Sasha again on the Central Area while he was marching off some of his demerit slip in the rain. As with West Point, Annapolis, and other service academies, the EDF Academy maintained the old tradition of requiring a cadet to spend their free time marching with a rifle as punishment when necessary.

 

Like Deke, Sasha was in her midshipmens’ uniform, with a raincoat on over her uniform and a plastic cover over her cap as she marched with her AK-01 astro-rifle.

 

“Where’s Brew?” she whispered sidelong as she marched past Deke.

 

“He skipped church to march off what he had to do today,” said Deke in a sidelong whisper as they passed.

 

“I’ll be here next Saturday, too, to finish my last five hours,” said Sasha as she passed Deke again. “All because I had to open my mouth to a Commodore.”

 

“Hey, it could’ve been worse,” said Deke. “Guy could have had you up on charges.”

 

Or my uncle could have told Nova to spank me again, thought Sasha miserably as she remembered a punishment Nova had imposed when she had been much smaller, and not all that long ago, either, thank to the growth rate of Iscandarians such as herself.

 

Sasha felt miserable as she continued to march off her last hour of this particular five-hour stretch on the Area.

 

“I have a question for you,” said Sasha as she marched past Deke.

 

“Shoot.”

 

“Is this our second date?” she whispered.

 

“You could say that,” said Deke with a grin.

 

“Hey!” yelled an Anglian voice over a bullhorn. Drop dead, Hartcliffe, thought Deke irritably as he looked up at the officer who had pulled the duty of manning Central Area tonight as their Warden. “Yer gonna keep marchin’, Wakefield, or is this some new definition of walkin’ off yer punishment?”

 

“Keep marching,” whispered Sasha.

 

Deke nodded and sped up.

 

As he continued to march, he noticed another figure among the five or six others who were forced to march tonight. It was a rather thin plebe who looked utterly miserable.

 

Deke recognized the face at once. Decker, he thought. I wonder what he did?

 

“What brings you here?” whispered Deke as he marched past Decker.

 

“Caruthers,” whispered Decker. “My room was OK when I left last week, but when I came in, he was in there with the Tac officer and it was a mess. I think he went in there on a contraband hunt and decided to pull a ten-and-five on me for fun.”

 

“That’s illegal,” said Deke.

 

“It’s the second time this semester,” whispered Decker as Deke passed him again. “I can’t stand that guy and his games.”

 

“Talk to someone,” said Deke.

 

“What good does it do?” whispered Decker in a depressed voice. “I’m probably gonna be out of here soon, anyway, the rate this is going.”

 

“Don’t give up,” whispered Sasha as she marched past.

 

“Easy for you to say when you’re being punished, too,” said Decker. He said nothing else to any other cadet for the rest of his punishment tour of five hours that night. Given his other offenses since midterms, he knew now that with ten more demerits, he would be out of the Academy.

 

Decker was not in a good frame of mind that night. Neither were Deke or Sasha.

 


II. BALKAL’S WAR

 

Between the Milky Way and

 

The Andromeda Galaxy

 

Planet Rotella

 

November 5, 2205

 


 

Planet Rotella was again under heavy attack from the Comet Empire.

 

The capital city of Serdana was currently being bombed by several squadrons of Cometine fighter/bombers as the Cometines had decided to conquer Rotella by wiping out the population of Serdana and decapitate the planet’s military command.

 

The flagship of the Cometine forces was a single-deck carrier known as the Matushka.

 

The commander of the Cometine forces was a man with a thin dark-greenish beard known as Balkal. Field Marshal Balkal liked to wear a mostly black uniform, and he enjoyed destruction.

 

“So how goes the bombing raid?” he asked as images of the burning capital city of Serdana filled his main screen.

 

A helmeted pilot appeared on screen. “Sir, we have the SKERLATS missile array ready. We are ready to launch twice against Serdana, sir. It would be wise to call in the fighters. Nothing much will survive this.”

 

“Survive what, sir?” asked a Lieutenant who came in and saluted General Balkal.

 

“Our thermonuclear missiles,” said Balkal. “We could use antimatter missiles, granted, but I prefer nuclear weapons in a case like this.”

 

“Why? They’re so inefficient, sir.”

 

“Yes, but this will leave their capital uninhabitable for the next one hundred years,” said Balkal as he laughed. “You recall that these are especially dirty warheads, of

course. I want the Rotellans to never dare raise their damned heads again!”

A moment later, the pilot said, “Sir, we have the city center in our sights now. Are the fighters out of the way?”

 

“They are, Denlitz,” said the Lieutenant.

 

“Now, it’s just you and your wingman, Denlitz,” said Balkal. “Fire those missiles and then clear the accursed area! I want to see the damned fireworks!”

 

Balkal then laughed, caring nothing at all for the approximately four million Rotellan lives he was about to wipe out in a moment.

 

“Discharging missiles, sir,” said Sub-Lieutenant Denlitz with an evil sneer. “Here they go!”

 

He fired, followed by his wingman.

 

Both Scorpion fighter-bombers then roared out of the area as their missiles roared down, skimmed the ground, and then slammed straight into the Rotellan seat of government.

 

There was a great and morbid nuclear explosion as the two hydrogen warheads went off and filled the city area with light and radiation. Denlitz and his wingman just barely escaped the holocaust as the city of Serdana was blasted into nothingness.

 

A moment later, where there had been millions of men, women and children, there was now burning corpses and bubbling, steaming molten rock and glass. By nightfall, the area was a glass-covered radioactive desert.

 

“Well, sir?” said Denlitz over his link to Field Marshal Balkal.

 

“Nice job,” laughed Balkal. “Very, very nice job. We should be receiving the surrender of whatever Rotellan forces are left within about a day or two. They’d never dare resist us after a show like that.”

 

“And if they continue, sir?” said Denlitz.

 

“That is why we have the antimatter missile ships,” said Balkal.

 

“Sir,” said the lieutenant on the Matushka’s bridge. “Princess Invidia’s orders were that the planet was to remain intact. Well, mostly intact, at any rate.”

 

“Oh, those,” grumbled Balkal. “Very well, Gegen. Well, let’s see what else we can do to terrorize this lot, hmm? Any other cities within range?”

 


 

Three days later, a report came in to Invidia and her staff aboard the Eritz Gatlantis city-ship, which was now cruising near the edge of the Andromeda Galaxy.

Dyre and his men stood looking at a familiar galactic region map as Balkal’s voice droned on, saying, Reports are that the Rotellan city regions of Serdana, Povlitz, and Orgeral are now essentially decimated. Estimated casualties are fifteen to twenty million. The resistance has slowed down to a halt as the Rotellans try to relieve the cities we destroyed. The capitulation of the planet is now almost a mere formality.

 

“Fine news,” said Dyre as he looked up towards Invidia on her throne. “The Tenth Region is almost subjugated.”

 

“I grow weary of this,” said Invidia. “I wish we were closer to Earth.”

 

“You know that the other Houses want us to secure your father’s old domains first before trying again for Earth.”

 

“The day we will be on the other side of that map back in the Milky Way will not come too soon,” snapped Invidia. “I want you to recall Balkal and decorate him; to encourage him, of course. Then, I want that planet back in our hands. And we had better not delay too long. I don’t want them laughing at us.”

 

“Of course, Princess,” said Dyre. “Anything…anything to please you,” he said as he drew close to the throne. “I hope you remember that…and our old relationship.”

 

“You will not come to my apartments tonight, Dyre,” hissed Invidia.

 

“Why not, Princess?”

 

“I have other business to tend to,” she said as she quietly grasped his hand. “Now, go. Go before I lose my patience and think about putting your head on the wall in my quarters along with the others.”

 

“Of course,” said Dyre, who turned a sickly shade of green reminiscent of rotting pea soup at that hissed comment from his Princess…and his lover.

 


III. DECKER’S GREAT LEAP

Earth

Derek and Nova Wildstar’s Home

Friday, November 8, 2205

2018 Hours: Earth Time


Nova Wildstar sat in her living room, slowly playing Bach’s Piano Concerto in A Minor while Derek sat in a chair, looking over a notebook he had brought home that day from Earth Defense Headquarters. He didn’t look happy.

 

“What’s wrong, Derek?”

 

He didn’t answer. Nova shut her eyes and played on a bit more; the solemn music matching her mood as a fire roared in their fireplace.

 

I wish I knew what was wrong, Nova thought. He’s barely talked since he came home today. Derek, why won’t you open up and tell me what’s in that notebook?

 

Nova had a clue a moment later as he stood up, shook his head, and threw the notebook at the floor with a snapped curse. Then, he glared in Nova’s direction and shut his eyes.

 

“That was uncalled for,” said Nova in a low voice as she stopped playing.


“Damnit, I know,” said Derek.

 

“What’s in that notebook? Or are you forgetting we have the same military clearance, Commodore, sir?

 

“You know those things you’ve been buying?”

 

“What things?” Nova snapped, her denim skirt flipping around her legs as she walked towards her husband.

 

“The things for the spare room. The room I’ve seen you looking at for the past few days.” 

 

“The things for the baby?” she said.

 

“You mean…you’re…”

 

“Not yet,” said Nova both dolefully and angrily as she stared down at her toes.

 

“I see. Why am I both sad and relieved at the same time?”

 

“The sad part I get, Derek. Why are you relieved?”

 

“The notebook. Okay. I didn’t want to tell you, but it’s a digest of all of the wave motion radio traffic our patrol ships have been picking up…in just the past week on the old Cometine 756 Gigahertz band. And they’re barely encoding it. It’s almost like they want us to pick it up.”

 

“What’s the news?”

 

“Well, Invidia’s back in power again. Intelligence has confirmed that. And they’re after Zordar’s old realms again…in a very systematic manner…like they’re getting closer; planet by planet…world by world.”

 

“Derek…does that mean we might have to…?”

 

“Possibly. They’re saying it could be weeks…months…years…no one knows. And the Gamilons and Rikashans are getting the same traffic; but their embassies aren’t reporting any more in the way of concrete intelligence than we have. Cha’rif’s sent a report through his ambassador. As for Desslok…no one can get hold of him.”

 

“So, what do we do? Can we have a child right now, in this uncertain world?”

 

“I…I don’t know, Nova,” said Derek as his eyes filled with tears. “That’s why I wasn’t talking. I had no idea how to tell you.”

 

Nova nodded dolefully. “I still have the contraceptive ampoule in the cabinet. The shot doesn’t hurt me that much. I’ve gotten good at it, even though I hate needles.”

 

“You’re a nurse, and you hate needles?”

 

“Yes, when they go in me, that is.”

 

“Hold off on it for tonight, Nova……I…I…”

 

“What?” said Nova as she hugged her husband. “You don’t want me tonight?”

 

“I do…but…I don’t know if we should have a baby…now.””

 

“Yes. We’d better hold off on that…for now…,” said Nova as she began to unwrap her pre-loaded contraceptive syringe. “I can always get the shot neutralized, you know, if…things look better.”

 

Derek nodded. He did not look happy.

 

“Well, so much for Operation Stork,” he said.

 

“For now,” Nova said softly. “Just for now…”

 

At that, Derek hugged his wife…and they shared a deep, doleful, sad, but very sweet kiss.

 


 

Later that evening, around 2230 Hours (it was, after all, a Friday night) Sasha came by Deke and Brew’s room again. In the past few weeks, she had been there quite a bit, although she had learned to ignore Brew’s posters. It wasn’t that they mattered much, anyway.

 

Deke was somewhat more interesting to her than the posters.

 

“So, do you have that concept down?” said Sasha quietly as she and Deke worked together on their navigation homework.

 

“Sure do,” said Deke. “Sasha, why are you looking at me like that?”

 

“I have some great news,” she said. “I’m going to do something interesting on Monday. My aunt talked me into it, of all things.”

 

“What could be so interesting that your Aunt would have to talk you into it?” said Deke.

 

“Yeah, she’s probably ninety years old and has a zillion warts, hon,” said Brew as he sat at his desk writing out a pilot’s attack scenario bit by bit on his computer as part of an assignment.

 

“Brew, my Aunt happens to be very attractive,” said Sasha with a sniff. “And she’s younger than you think.”

 

“Introduce me to her, then,” said Brew.

 

Sasha made a pair of fists and sighed. “My Uncle wouldn’t like that much.”

 

“Which Uncle?” said Brew.

 

“The one her aunt’s married to, ya stupid porcupine,” said Deke.

 

“Hey, I resemble that remark!” said Brew.

 

“You sure do,” said Sasha with a grin.

 

“Are you making fun of my elegant Nubian looks, Miss Sasha?”

 

“No.”

 

“What’s the big news?” asked Deke as he sipped at his soda.

 

“I’m going out for the cheerleading squad!” said Sasha. “First-round tryouts are Monday!”

 

Deke’s reaction shocked Sasha. He started and spat his soda out on the floor as he gasped.

 

“Deke!” said Sasha. “Are you aware you just coughed soda into my lap? What’s wrong with you? You look like you’ve just seen a ghost!

 

“I think he just has,” said Brew in a serious tone of voice as he looked towards Deke’s desk at Dawn’s picture.

 

“Deke, why do you look that sick?” said Sasha. “And why are you looking at your old girlfriend’s picture?”

 

“Sasha…Dawn….Dawn was a cheerleader.”

 

“Did something happen to her when she was on the squad?” asked Sasha as she came up behind Deke and hugged him. This was behavior that Brew had been seeing a lot of lately, and he was not particularly unhappy with it.

 

“Nope…that’s when the whole thing began to go sour…when she was a cheerleader. We started getting a bit distant about then. It was a slow, creeping process, but…”

 

“Deke, I won’t get like that…”

 

“But there’s the practices…and…you…in that short little skirt, and….”

 

“So? I dance in less in PT class.”

 

“Not with half the Corps of cadets leering at you, Sasha…”

 

“Deke, I think you’re getting jealous,” said Sasha.

 

“Jealous?” said Brew. “Hey, this is cool shit…”

 

“Brew, leave it,” said Deke.

 

“Leave what?”

 

“You know….I don’t want to talk about it,” said Deke as he grabbed Dawn’s picture and threw it into his desk drawer. Then, for good measure, he locked the desk drawer.

 

“Why’d you do that?” said Sasha. “She was pretty.”

 

“Was,” said Deke. “I stress the word was. And I don’t wanna talk about it, okay? Have fun on the cheerleading squad! Sis, boom bah, rah, rah, RAH!” yelled Deke. He glared at Sasha and stalked out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

 

“What’s his problem?” said Sasha.

 

“You just touched a nerve,” said Brew. “He’s still very touchy about Dawn. He…”

 

At that, someone started banging at the door.

 

“What’s going on?” said Sasha.

 

“Hey!” yelled Brew. “Deke, you lock yourself out? What’s the problem? Deke?”

 

Brew opened the door, only to find a sophomore in white and yellow breathing hard as he looked in at Brew and Sasha.

 

“What’s going on?” said Brew. “Hey, Rusk, what’s with you? Out runnin’ PT in your dress uniform?”

 

“Sir, I just got back in from a dance. Fifth floor’s going nuts. Wakefield’s already on his way up with a crowbar.”

 

“Crowbar? Fifth floor?”

 

“Sir, you’ve gotta get the tac officer on duty tonight. I mean the duty officer. That’d be Hemsford tonight; the big dude.”

 

“What’s wrong?” yelled Brew.

 

“It’s a shitstorm, sir, it’s…”

 

“What’s wrong?” yelled Brew as Sasha shut her eyes.

 

“Decker,” he said. “That stupid-ass plebe Decker got called up to Caruthers’ room on the fifth deck. You know, the asshole guy. They were making him do pushups for the past hour.”

 

“Hazing crap,” said Brew. “Study time starts at twenty-two hundred; even crappy-ass plebes have to be allowed to study. What happened?”

 

“There was a fight. Decker…”

 

“He barricaded himself into his room,” said Sasha. “And…he’s having horrible thoughts!”

 

“How’d you know that?” said Rusk. “That’s exactly what is going on. There was a fistfight, and Decker got written up, and he’s going nuts.”

 

“Just trust me,” snapped Sasha. “I know. Would you two leave the room, please? You have to get Hemsford, anyway. I need to make a phone call.”

 

“Phones are shut off at 2230,” said Brew.

 

“I’ll get it kept on,” snapped Sasha, as she remembered a code she had only had to use once before here at the Academy. She would need it for the operator. “Please go. NOW!”

 

Brew and Rusk left the room as Sasha picked up the phone and dialed “0-9” for an outside line.

 

An operator came on and said, “I see you’re calling from a midshipman’s room. Outside calls are against regulations after 2300…”

 

“This is an emergency, ma’am!” Sasha said breathlessly.

 

“Miss, I’m a duty officer, and you’re going to be getting Midshipman Marrable in a lot of trouble if…”

 

“I’m also a midshipman, ma’am,” said Sasha.

 

“You know better. What’s your service number?”

 

“2129692042. But, if you pull up that code, you will see a notation on there for “Code Sapphire”. This is a Code Sapphire emergency call, and you have orders to let me through at any time when I invoke this code. There’s a profile on me…on the lower part of the screen it….”

 

“Do I, now…I’ve had enough of this cadet crap, I…”

 

The Lieutenant pulled up Sasha’s number and saw a small notation that read “Sapphire-Special Medical Profile”. Curious, she hit the small radio button on the PC screen with her mouse, and a strange message appeared on her computer screen. It read:

 

SAPPHIRE CODE INVOKED

This Midshipman allowed special comm-net access in emergency at any time

MOST CONFIDENTIAL

BY ORDER COMMANDANT’S OFFICE

Which Comm Node Desired by cadet?

 

* Watchtower

* Shuri Castle

* Small Diamond

* Great Diamond

 

Ask cadet her wish then connect.

 

“Okay,” said the Lieutenant, thinking that this midshipman had some physical problem; a very few she knew of had such arrangements; she had never known this cadet had such an arrangement before because she’d never accessed her PC Personnel File. “What is your wish?”

 

“Watchtower,” said Sasha.

 

The Lieutenant nodded, and hit the cursor prompt near “Watchtower.”

 

The screen then went blank and the duty officer lost the call as a brief message “CALL OVERRIDEN AND SCRAMBLED” flashed across the screen and then disappeared along with Sasha Petrovsky’s Midshipman File.

 

Another call came in for the Lieutenant a moment later, and then she spent most of the night busy getting emergency personnel as the beginning of what would become known as The Decker Incident flashed across the consciousness of the staff of the Space Fighters’ Training School.

 

But, in the meantime, Sasha was calling somewhere else. Disguised under a so called “medical profile” was a secret system that was basically a panic button for a Princess. It was there on the insistence, not of the Princess, but of her mother, Queen Starsha.

 

While Sasha had other means of communicating with her mother that did not involve a telephone, they were chancy, so she also had alternate means to reach her or others in her life when she truly needed help.

 

Right now, she had to share her psionic impressions AT ONCE with her Uncle and Aunt…

 

…so she could save a life. She just had to.

 


 

 

In their bedroom in the Great Megalopolis, Derek Wildstar lay in his bed half-asleep and skin-to-skin with his wife as she cuddled naked and innocent in his arms, musky with the scent of recent romance. She was also almost asleep, and was slowly kissing her husband’s chest when the phone rang.

 

DAMNIT!” yelled Commodore Wildstar as the ringing visiphone hammered into his consciousness like a jackhammer. “Who the Goddamn hell is that?”

 

“It’s almost midnight,” said Nova in a slurred voice as she pushed herself up off Derek’s chest, giving a certain part of his anatomy an affectionate little tweak as she grabbed for the phone. “You get it.”

 

“You.”

 

“No, you, silly,” said Nova. “C’mon….could be….”

 

Derek nodded and took it. “Hello? SASHA?”

 

“Sasha!?” cried Nova. She grabbed the receiver from her husband. “Honey, what’s wrong?”

 

“Nova, I need you and Uncle Derek right away! Just had this awful impression! You know Cadet Decker?”

 

“Yes,” said Derek as he grabbed the handset out of his wife’s hands. Nova kissed him and got out of bed, flying like a bird to grab the gauze East-Indian style nightgown that was discarded near the foot of their bed.

 

“He had a fight with Caruthers, and he’s just earned enough demerits for expulsion! He’s barricaded himself into his room and wants to kill himself!”

 

“Isn’t Hemsford on it, yet?”

 

Sasha said, just as another midshipman yelled into the room what was going on (she knew it first because of her Iscandarian clairvoyance) “He’s refusing to talk to anyone! He wants you or Nova! You’re the only ones he’ll talk to!”

 

“Where is he?” cried Nova as she pulled on her flimsy garment and threw a set of pajama bottoms at her husband.

 

Another midshipman yelled, “Holy shit, the plebe’s up on the balcony and he’s gonna jump!

 

“Up on the balcony, fifth deck…going to jump…”

 

Derek nodded. “Hit two for Shuri Castle, Sasha. Get us flight clearance ASAP from HQ; we’re using our personal Jet Recon Boat. We’ll be there in ten minutes.”

 

“Understood,” said Sasha. She then jiggled the phone button once as she reached EDF Headquarters to put events into motion.

 


 

At the doorway to Decker’s room, everything was pandemonium.

 

Wakefield had arrived about three minutes before Sasha. There was a crowd near the room, and Marine Lieutenant Hemsford, late of the Star Force, was already there, barking in a stentorian voice, “What is this shit, Midshipman?”  Hemsford was holding the crowbar that Wakefield had provided.

 

“Sir, Caruthers and his bunch made me do pushups until I shit my pants!” screamed Decker in a wild, high, crazy voice. “Then I hit them, and they wrote me up!”

 

“Mister Decker, we don’t need this. You know the regs,” said Hemsford. “You’re under hack as of now, and you’ll most likely be a civilian again first thing in the morning, son. Let us get you some help in the meantime. Nuthin’ like this is worth losing your damn life for. Let us in. NOW.”

 

“Screw you! I wanna die and that’s it! I wanna let Wildstar know why I wanna die, him or Nova. Then I wanna die! If I can’t be a midshipman, Dad doesn’t want me in the house again!”

 

Another cadet used the crowbar on the door. “Sir, he’s got some kind of weight against it. I can only get this door to budge a little.”

 

“It’s his desk,” said Sasha as she came up.

 

“You’re sure?” said Wakefield as he looked at Sasha.

 

“Look through the peephole; you’ll see it,” said Sasha, not wanting to give away how she knew it was the desk. “Logic dictates only his desk would be heavy enough to block that door, Wakefield.”

 

Then, he whispered to her, “I’m sorry. About…you know…”

 

“We’ll discuss it later, Deke,” she said with a small smile. Then, Sasha cried, “Decker, hold on before you do anything rash. I’ve called Commodore Wildstar and Lieutenant Commander Wildstar! They’re on their way.”

 

“You’d better be right! I’m on the balcony! I’m gonna jump if anyone tries any crap!” screamed Decker. Then, in the background, Hemsford and Wakefield heard voices chanting, “JUMP, Decker! JUMP! JUMP! JUMP! JUMP! No one cares about you, ya damn lousy piece of shit plebe!”

 

“Who the hell is that?” barked Hemsford.

 

“Caruthers,” hissed Wakefield as Marrable ran up with Rusk. “Those guys are in another room someplace; probably on another balcony facing the quad.”

 

“Mister Marrable, Mister Rusk, Mister Chen,” barked Hemsford. “Spread out and find Mister Caruthers and his asshole buddies Mister Perkins and Mister Smith! Then inform them they’re under arrest and are to report to their quarters until I get there; or until the Commodore shows up!”

 

“Aye, aye, sir!” snapped the three midshipmen. They saluted and left. 

 

“If you break down that door, I’m gonna jump!” yelled Decker.

 

“How can Wildstar or Nova get in to see ya if you won’t let anyone in?” yelled Hemsford. Another officer, named King, ran in and said, “Mister Decker, you’re under arrest! Don’t make us come in and get you!”

 

“I know I’m out! Don’t rush me ya jackass, or I’ll JUMP!” screamed Decker.

 

A moment later, Marrable showed up leading Perkins by one wrist. “I got him, sir, but he won’t tell us where his buddies are.”

 

“Midshipman Perkins, I give you a direct order to tell us where Midshipmen Caruthers and Smith are,” yelled King.

 

“I ain’t tellin no one, sir,” said Perkins, who sounded belligerent and drunk. “I invoke my right o’ silence.”

 

“You don’t have one,” said Hemsford. “As of now, you’re suspended,” he said as two more cadets on the Provost Marshal’s detachment grabbed him by the arms. “Take that guy right to Boarder’s Ward. He’ll have his trial in the morning.”

 

Perkins glared at everyone as he was frog-marched out of the barracks.

 

A moment later, Commodore Wildstar and Lieutenant Commander Wildstar ran up the steps. “What’s going on here?” demanded Derek as he helped Nova through the press of officers and cadets. The two higher-ranking officers were quite a sight; Derek wore his pajama bottoms and an old Academy sweatshirt and went barefoot; his hair was very mussed up and he was unshaven. Nova wore her short nightgown and flip-flops with a flight jacket over everything; Sasha saw hints of dark circles of sleeplessness under her eyes.

 

King saluted Commodore Wildstar and said, “Sir, we have an unbalanced plebe accused of fighting with three of his superiors. He’s barricaded himself in his room and is making suicidal gestures on top of his balcony and has refused several direct orders from officers to stand down. He was demanding you and the Lieutenant Commander, sir. I’m not sure why.”

 

“I’m one of his professors,” said Nova. “He trusts me. Mister Decker!” cried Nova. “This is Lieutenant Commander Wildstar. I’m here to talk. Do you want to get down from there so we can talk?”

 

“You can talk to me from out here!” screamed Decker. “You won’t get near me, any one you! They’ve got guard dogs, I know it! I can hear them out there! Caruthers said they’d feed me to the attack dogs, and you’ve got them! I’d rather die this way than be eaten by your dogs!”

 

“This is Commodore Wildstar,” yelled Derek. “Decker, I swear to you, there are no dogs. No one here feeds midshipmen to dogs!”

 

“Caruthers says so!”

 

“Mister Caruthers is full of shit!” yelled Wakefield. “You know that!”

 

“Hey, steady,” snapped Wildstar as he looked at Deke.

 

“Sir, just trying to help…” whispered Deke.

 

“You can best help by getting us in there,” said Wildstar in a low voice. “Hemsford, you, Wakefield and Marrable are to break open that door after Nova and I talk him down from the balcony. Then we’ll get him.”

 

Rusk showed up dragging Smith a moment later. Smith looked at Wildstar and said, “Sir, Caruthers is on the third deck. I confess to having helped them haze Decker. Please take that into consideration.”

 

“Thanks. Now get the hell out of my sight. Take this cadet to Boarders’ Ward, Rusk. He’s under hack.”

 

“Yessir,” said Rusk, a large blond cadet who was on the Academy’s football team as a tackle.

 

In the meantime, inside the room, Decker yelled “I wanna see Nova or Wildstar! Now!”

 

“How can we get in?” said Wildstar. “You have the door barricaded. Clear the barricade and then sit down.”

 

“I’ll clear the barricade, but no one had better try to get me, because I’ll be right back on the balcony again!” said Decker. He jumped down, and Wildstar, Nova, Wakefield, and Marrable heard the desk being moved. Hemsford and King prepared to back them up as they then began to kick at the door.

 

“I’m back up on the balcony!” yelled Decker after the first or second kick at the door. Hemsford kicked again, and the door opened.

 

All of them saw that Decker had opened the window in his part of the room he shared with a chair, and that he was on the edge of the balcony.

 

“Get down from there, son,” said King.

 

“I’ll jump! I mean it!” yelled Decker. “Lieutenant Commander Wildstar! I’ll talk with you!”

 

“We’ll talk if you sit down,” said Nova.

 

“I’m not getting off of here,” screamed Decker.

 

“You can sit on the edge of the balcony,” said Nova. “I’ll…sit with you.”

 

Derek looked at his wife, but Nova just nodded. Then, she whispered, “Derek, you and the others hang back by the bed. I’ll try to calm him down first.”

 

“Okay,” whispered Derek.

 

“Hurry up!” yelled Decker as he stood on the balcony’s edge and raised one foot.

 

“You have to sit down,” said Nova as she kicked off her sandals to walk over. The hem of her thin nightgown blew in the cold November breeze below her coat.

 

“Damn,” whispered Brew in Deke’s ear.

 

“What?” asked Deke.

 

“Look at that view,” whispered Marrable. “She’s got a BUTT, my friend. And…she’s…God…I don’t know what she has on under that…maybe…”

 

“She just got out of bed,” said Deke irritably.

 

“Yeah, she sure looks it…”

 

“Brew, stop it,” whispered Sasha as she blushed. She glanced at her aunt, and saw that a good deal of her aunt’s thighs and bottom were showing as she stood on the balcony’s edge near Decker. Nova grabbed a hand and slowly coaxed Decker into sitting on the balcony’s edge right near her.

 

“Tell me,” said Nova as the atmosphere remained tense. “Why do you want to die?”

 

“I’m being thrown out of here,” said Decker through a sob. “Caruthers and his bunch won. They harassed me, made me do push-ups until I crapped myself and wet myself; then I lost it and hit them.”

 

“They were your superior officers,” said Nova. “But they will be punished for what they’ve done. We’ll see to it.”

 

“They were assholes. And you can’t undo the regulations for me, can you?”

 

“No. There’s not much we can do to save you now…but…”

 

“That’s why I want to die. My father…my parents…my father….told me not to come home if I didn’t survive plebe year. Since I can’t go home, where can I go when I’m out of here? Heaven, maybe. Hell…most likely. And they have dogs ready to eat me if I come down from here.”

 

”There are no dogs,” said Nova. “And there are places to go if you leave here. You can get a recommendation to any civilian college on the planet; Derek and I will see to it. We can also get you exempted from your military service requirement on the grounds you couldn’t take military life.”

 

“It’s a disgrace. I’d be in DISGRACE!”

 

“It’s no disgrace if you can’t handle it,” said Nova as she held Decker for a moment. “Let us help you. We can even find you a place to live…a job…a…”

 

Commodore Wildstar and the others moved in a little closer. Nova began to help Decker off the balcony, when he happened to see the others. Sasha looked at Nova and shook her head, hard. But, Decker said, “Nova, I see the Commodore…”

 

“Yes, he’s here…to help you…”

 

“And Wakefield, and Marrable, and Hemsford, and Miss Sasha Petrovsky and…and….King and all the others,” said Decker. “And a stretcher in the hall…and…..and…”

 

Decker came to his feet again, dragging Nova up with him.

 

“Don’t come one step closer!” he screamed. “You’re not gonna take me away like some loony! I’m gonna jump, and I MEAN IT!”

 

“Decker, no,” said Nova as she grabbed his hands.

 

Decker howled and hit her even as Wildstar, Wakefield, and Hemsford rushed in, followed by Sasha. Nova tried to hold the struggling cadet, but he was too wild, and was too much for her.

 

While holding her hands and being held by her, Decker almost toppled over and took Nova with him over the edge. But, then, the cadet struck Nova again, broke free from her embrace with a crazed strength, and before Wildstar and Hemsford could get to him, he jumped.

 

Decker went down like a stone, falling five stories down to the quad. His head made a sickening noise like an exploding melon when it hit the concrete and shattered in a bloody mess.

 

When everything settled, Decker lay there face-up in a pool of his own expanding blood with a look of wonder and fright in his now-vacant eyes.

 

Decker had finally gotten his wish.

 

He was dead.

 


 

Later, as the ambulance crew cleaned up the mess below, Nova held on to Decker’s desk. She had stepped off the balcony and had immediately started crying. Sasha had cried with her, and it had taken Wildstar and Wakefield working together to get the two horrified young women calmed down. Nova was still sobbing slightly, but she looked out at the quad and said, “Derek, they had better not let me see Caruthers tomorrow morning when they expel him! I might just claw his Goddamned eyes out for this!”

 

“That was bloody gruesome,” said Wakefield, who had looked down at the horror in the quad, and had almost thrown up. He still couldn’t look.

 

King had just finished taking a statement from the cadets and officers present for the Academy records when the phone rang.

 

“Commodore, sir,” said King. “It’s the Commandant.”

 

“Good evening, sir,” said Derek.

 

“Commodore, I’ve just gotten word that Decker’s parents, who were in town for Homecoming Formation, have come by to identify the cadet’s remains. We can’t release them yet since he needs to be given to a Medical Examiner for an inquest, even though it was pretty obvious how he died. The parents want to talk to someone who was there. Would you mind, Wildstar?”

 

“I can come, and so can Nova. Just give us some time to get sort of decent, sir. We arrived here in our nightclothes.”

 

“I have some things in my quarters that’d fit you, sir,” said King in the background. Sasha then spoke up and said, “Ma’am, I have some things you can wear with your flight jacket.”

 

“Thanks,” said Nova. “Tell the Commandant we’ll be there in a few minutes. Where are they, Derek?”

 

Commodore Wildstar spoke to the Commandant, who said, “They’re at the infirmary. The body’s there under guard.”

 

“Sir, I need to speak to the Commandant,” said Hemsford.

 

Derek nodded and left with King after kissing Nova quickly on the cheek. Hemsford took the phone and said, “Sir, we need details to get these damn midshipmen to bed. I see cadets squeezing up to the crime scene tapes for a look.”

 

“Order a formation on Central Area, and have an officer announce the death and then order all midshipmen back to their quarters.”

 

“Yessir,” said Hemsford. He looked at Marrable and Wakefield and said, “You two men are excepted from the order to hit the rack for now; betcha can’t sleep.”

 

“That’s an understatement, sir,” said Wakefield.

 

“I know about what you guys did in the summer for Wildstar with those Josiahites. I’ll bet this is worse.”

 

“It is worse, sir,” said Brew.

 

“Hell of a lot more senseless,” said Wakefield.

 

“There’s coffee up here,” said Hemsford, who had brewed some coffee in Decker’s small pot when it was determined there was no evidence on his bedside table that had to be secured. “Want some while we shoot the shit?”

 

“Yeah, thanks,” said Wakefield. “What time is it, now, sir?”

 

“0300,” said Hemsford as he poured the coffee. “Now, as a Marine, I’ve seen people get killed every which way short of I dunno what in the Gamilon War, the fracas with the Cometines, and the business with the Rikashans and Technomugar. But this, people, this tops the list for senseless and sick.”

 

“He couldn’t take the hazing, sir,” said Brew as he was handed some coffee.

 

“I know that,” said Hemsford as the late-night light from outside shone against his shiny chocolate-colored bald pate as Academy officers and cadet officers yelled out commands outside as they began to gather the Corps of Midshipmen on Central Area. “The thing is, who tried to stop it?”

 

“I did,” said Nova as she abruptly entered the room with Sasha in tow. The cadets saluted her, but then she just laughed and said, “Even though I have  something on with my flight jacket over it, I still look like a fright.”

 

“You look fine, ma’am,” said Hemsford as he looked Nova over from her still somewhat-mussed up hair to her flight jacket, with a blue blouse and skirt of Sasha’s on under it along with the white thongs she had worn here. “So, what’s this about that you tried to stop it?”

 

“I reported it to some other Academy officers weeks ago,” said Nova. “That was after I talked with Decker about the hazing, which was pretty bad, even then. I plan to let the Commandant know everything tonight before I go to bed. They really should take this more seriously.”

 

“Fine line, ma’am, between training and harassment,” said Hemsford. “One is honorable, the other is…”

 

“I know the difference,” said Nova. “Oh, Deke, can I have that baseball bat over there by you? Is it part of evidence, Hemsford?”

 

“Nope.”

 

“Ma’am, it’s not Decker’s,” said Deke as he handed Nova the bat. Someone left it here. Why, ma’am, would you need a baseball bat at 0300 on the Academy campus? You’re safe here.”

 

“Not from IQ-9 if he shows up,” said Nova. “He has this weird thing for me whenever I have a skirt on…too bad your pants weren’t clean, Sasha.”

 

“Sorry, ma’am,” said Sasha with a blush as Nova toted the bat. “See you later.”

 

“Later,” said Nova after she took some coffee and drank it. “Darn, this coffee’s weak,” she muttered as she drank and then left.

 

“I feel sick,” said Sasha. “We shouldn’t have seen that tonight.”

 

“A-men,” said Brew.

 

“Sasha…sorry about the argument before,” said Deke. “Hope you…have fun when you go out for cheerleading.” Although I hope you don’t make it, he thought to himself.  This is reminding me too much of Dawn. Waaay too much of Dawn for comfort.  

 

“It’s okay,” said Sasha. “Seeing what we saw…well, I’m not much interested in talking about pom-poms tonight.”

 

“Understood,” said Deke. He looked out in the distance and said, “It looks like they’re all in Central Area, people, all in uniform, too. I think the message is about to come out.”

 

Finally, the speaker system across the campus came to life. “Ladies and Gentlemen of the Corps of Midshipmen,” said the voice of the Commandant over all of the speakers. “You may have heard rumors; and I regret to inform you that Midshipman Fourth Class James Reginald Decker, Class of 2209, died tonight in a tragic suicide caused by personal problems. These problems were caused by hazing in the training process, hazing which is forbidden by regulations. Those responsible for driving Mister Decker to this point will be standing trial in my office by first light tomorrow morning.  The Training Cadre and the Corps of Midshipmen will join together momentarily in a moment of silence in memory of Mister Decker when “Taps” is played. Unfortunately, this is the second time we have gathered together like this during this semester; the first time was when Midshipman First Class Michelle Connolly died in that tragic flight training accident at the beginning of the semester. Let us pray that we have no more deaths here on campus this semester as we pray for the eternal rest of these cadets. Order, Ten-SHUN!”

 

The Corps of Cadets snapped as one to attention; in Decker’s room, even Deke, Brew, Sasha, and Hemsford snapped to as a bugler began to blow “Taps.” Second damn time this damn semester, thought Deke as he stood in silence. Things were never this weird around here until now…except when they almost threw me out of here over Dawn, that is. I wonder where else this is gonna lead? When is it gonna end? When is the bad karma gonna end?

 


 

In the meantime, in the infirmary, Decker’s mother Phyllis was crying and coughing as she tried to get the last image of her son’s ruined face out of her mind. The body bag had to be opened, just slightly, if only for a moment, so that Decker’s father Aaron could identify the remains along with his wife.

 

“I’m so sorry,” said Nova as she patted Phyllis Decker on the shoulder. “That’s all you have to see of him for tonight….until he’s cleaned up and put back together…that is,” said Nova, who had viewed the entire body and guessed that restoring his remains for a viewing would be impossible. “Then, you can decide…”

 

“I’ve already decided,” snapped Aaron Decker as he lit a cigarette with a harsh, angry gesture. Commodore Wildstar couldn’t help noticing that even at 0320 in the morning, the thin, arrogant looking North Carolinian had on a three-piece suit. “I’ve decided I want no part of this. Phyllis, he was your son. You raised him to be a baby. I tried to toughen him up, but it didn’t work. So, people, I am refusing to accept the body, and I am refusing to arrange a funeral.”

 

What?” hissed Phyllis in shock.

 

“I don’t believe it,” said Commodore Wildstar.

 

“Sir, I know you’re in shock,” said Nova. “But…he was your son…”

 

“I stress…he was my son. I believe in God, Christ, and in the fact that a man must die and face the Judgment. He has been judged, and he is burnin’ in Hell now for killing himself. Saul was sent to Hell for suicide. So was Judas. Phyllis, you know Pastor Michelson will want no part of a suicide. This boy is as lost as anyone can be. And, I am washing my hands of him. Let’s go home. We have no reason for being here.”

 

“Sir, what about his funeral arrangements?” said Nova.

 

“Let him belong to the state. You can cremate him or something,” snapped Aaron. “Or you can give him to science. Looks like he’s already half apart as it is!”

 

At that, Phyllis began to cry and keen, looking very lost in her dress and grey pumps.

 

“Would you like some tea?” said Nova as she took the crying woman by one hand.

 

Aaron Decker grabbed his wife’s hand out of Nova’s hand and said, “I’ve seen you damn people on the news! If you Star Force people are really this damn sentimental a bunch, it’s a wonder you ever became warriors…like…like HE should have been,” he snapped as he gestured to the body bag.

 

“Listen, you don’t know a Goddamned thing about the Star Force!” yelled Derek as he rushed forward. Only Nova kept him from punching out Aaron Decker as she stood between the two men.

 

“You don’t know about nothin,” said Aaron Decker as he turned to leave. “Phyllis, let’s go! I need a drink!”

 

At that, Aaron dragged his wife away, slamming the infirmary door behind him.

 

“So what do we do?” asked the nurse.

 

Nova angrily wiped her eyes and looked at Derek. “What a cold-hearted man he was! Derek, let’s see to it James here receives a decent funeral. I….I’ll handle all the arrangements.”

 

Derek nodded, and then hugged his wife as she turned to him and again began to weep in his arms. “His mother should be here to cry for him,” said Nova in a broken, sad voice. “At least I can do it!”

 

“At least we can do it, Nova,” said Derek Wildstar as he shut his eyes and rocked his wife, not even trying to hide his tears for the fallen cadet.

 


 

The next morning, Caruthers, Perkins, and Smith stood at attention in the Commandant’s office before his desk as Commodore Derek Wildstar, Lieutenant Commander Nova Wildstar, Hemsford, King, Wakefield, Marrable, and Sasha all stood near a wall of the office in uniform with the chaplain after having been called to give their testimony to the Commandant. The Commandant stood and said to the miscreant midshipmen. “Well, people, I have heard from seven witnesses most of what happened to Mister Decker. I had you leave the office while I decided your case.”

 

“I have decided you will not stand trial before an Honor Board. There is no need to consider your honor, for the three of you have broken regulations that were written in black and white in the Midshipmens’ Bluejackets’ Manual from day one of your time here. As such, then, this is a strict disciplinary matter. For the hazing that led to Mister Decker’s disgrace and suicide, I am, by my authority, about to sign the papers ordering your expulsion in disgrace. Have any of you anything to add in your defense?”

 

“No, sir,” said the three cadets in unison as they glared at their shoes.

 

“Have you any comments at all?”

 

“Sir, why the hell are you still referring to Decker as “Mister” Decker?” snapped Caruthers. “Boy lost his rank and status as a cadet soon as he hit me,” he said while he massaged his black eye.

 

The Commandant then paused to scrawl his signature across the first of the letters on his notepad. He then handed it to Caruthers. “Mister Decker was troubled and he never came to trial, granted, but he was still a midshipman when he died, Private Caruthers. This school will remember him as such, unlike you, Private.”

 

“Private?” sneered Caruthers.

 

“Read your expulsion letter, Recruit Private,” said the Commandant in an even tone of voice. “You signed a military contract and are still in the Earth Defense Forces, son. You leave today to enter basic training as a Space Marine at Parris Island, South Carolina. Your friends will join you there,” said the Commandant as he signed the other two letters and handed them to a shocked Perkins and Smith. Then, the Commandant reached out to tear the gold rank pins off the collars of the three former cadets. He then threw them on his desk and said, “Now snap the officers and midshipmen present a proper salute; then get the hell out of my sight, RECRUITS!”

 

“Yessir!” said the three Marine Privates in low voices. They saluted, and then did an about-face and left as two MP’s stood waiting for them outside the office door. They would process out that day under guard, and they would stay under guard until they were escorted onto a military transport plane and off Great Island in Marine fatigues later that afternoon. They would hit the rack at Parris Island that night as part of a platoon of raw Space Marine candidates. It would not be pleasant for them, since a phone call from Hemsford later that day to their soon-to-be Drill Instructor assured that they would spend twelve weeks receiving the same sort of hazing and hell that they had handed out to others.

 


 

IV. THE BEGINNING OF A WINTER OF DISCONTENT

Earth

Shinobayara Cemetery

Tuesday November 12, 2205

1030 Hours: Earth Time


I am the Resurrection and the Life”, said Father Likanski in a solemn voice as a slow but steady cold rain fell on the darn green tent that covered Midshipman Fourth Class James Reginald Decker’s grave. Raindrops glistened sadly off the gunmetal grey metal casket as Likanski continued to read from his Bible, saying, “he that believeth in Me, though he were dead, yet shall he live. And whosoever liveth and believeth in Me shall never die. Believest thou this? She saith unto Him, Yea, Lord; I believe that thou art the Christ, the Son of God, which should come into the world.

 

A moment later, the casket began to descend silently into its grave.

 

A woman with graying blond hair, who wore a black dress, stockings, and heels with a formal hat with a mourning veil that hid her face wept quietly as she threw some dirt onto the casket. “It’s all right,” said another woman in black, much younger, as she hugged Phyllis Decker, who was here to mourn her son…alone. The woman was Nova Wildstar, who had had to comfort Phyllis Decker both emotionally and physically in the past few days. Phyllis’ face was badly bruised and some dried blood still showed under her nose. This was the remains of a beating she had received on Friday night, courtesy of her soon-to-be-ex husband, Aaron Decker, who was now in jail for spousal abuse.

 

James Decker lay in his casket, with his remains fixed up as best as the undertaker could do. He wore a grey civilian suit that Commodore Derek Wildstar had bought him. He and Nova were paying for the private funeral and burial themselves. Even though Decker was still technically a cadet when he had died, he had not been entitled to a military funeral. Still, oddly enough, all of Decker’s pallbearers were military men in uniform; namely, Commodore Derek Wildstar, Lieutenant Patrick Hemsford, Lieutenant Keeshawn King, and Lieutenant Bryan Hartcliffe, along with Midshipmen Deke Wakefield and Jere Marrable. The Commandant of the Space Fighters’ Training School had also shown up, along with Nova and Sasha. Sasha stood beside Deke as Father Likanski intoned Scripture about “For dust thou art, and unto dust shalt thou return. Let us pray.  The pastor then began to intone a final prayer over the grave.

 

Sasha, who was wearing a black dress and boots for the first time in her life, looked at Deke and whispered, “I don’t like funerals.”

 

“Me neither. I was at too many of them; saw my father, my mother, my sister all being remembered for the last time. Too damn many people close to me have died. I can’t take it.”

 

“Let me help,” whispered Sasha.

 

“I’ll try,” said Deke as he squeezed Sasha’s hand wanly and then looked, not at her eyes, but at the casket in its grave.

 

Nova then helped Phyllis cast a lily into the grave. It missed, bouncing off Nova’s wet and muddy black boot instead. Nova then gently picked up the lily and tossed it for Phyllis, shutting her eyes under the black beret she wore as tears ran down her cheeks. Derek then cast a lily into the grave, followed by Hemsford, King, Bryan Hartcliffe, Angie Hartcliffe (who shivered in a thin black dress under her black coat; Phyllis thought that Angie looked a little undignified in heels and black net hose, but she didn’t dare say much), and then all of the other mourners cast flowers into the grave. Deke was the last one, and he shook his head and stared at the casket for a minute as Sasha got him to turn away from the grave.

 

Deke walked like a living ghost beside Sasha to one of the funeral air-limos (also in black). He shut his eyes and sat in a funk for most of the drive to the Wildstar house, where Nova had prepared a buffet for the mourners.

 


 

Later that day, Deke still sat in silence beside Sasha on a love seat in the Wildstars’ fine living room while Nova, with her wet boots, coat and hat off, sat in stockinged feet curled up beside her husband with some white wine in her hand. “So tell us how you two met,” said Nova in a soft voice while Father Likanski sat nearby in an armchair, trying to quietly counsel the grieving Phyllis Decker, who had refused to eat any of the food Nova had made up for the funeral party.

 

“It’s sort of funny,” said Sasha in a quiet, gentle voice.

 

“I don’t feel like discussing anything right now,” said Deke in a low voice. “Sasha, I’m tired.”

 

“How could you be tired?” asked Sasha with concern in her eyes.

 

“This whole day…everything…I’m just down. Nova, I don’t mean any disrespect; how can you even be halfway pleasant today?”

 

“Sometimes when you give to those who are mourning and try to make them feel a little better….well…sometimes, it helps. It’s usual in my family to have a dinner for those who’ve been left behind after a funeral. I’m sorry that Phyllis couldn’t have arranged it for herself, but…”

 

“I couldn’t even put my dress on right today,” said Phyllis Decker in a very depressed voice. “I can’t believe Aaron could be so callous!”

 

“If ya want, luv, I’ll go to jail and kick his arse for ya,” said Bryan Hartcliffe in what was meant to be a helpful voice.

 

“That wouldn’t help,” said Phyllis. “It sure wouldn’t help bring Jimmy back.”

 

“No, it wouldn’t,” said Father Likanski as he sipped at some club soda. “You know that God said that vengeance was His.”

 

“I hope He makes Aaron suffer in that jail,” sniffed Phyllis. “And I hope that He makes those awful cadets suffer for what they did to him!” She then looked straight at Brew with accusing eyes. “If I knew you midshipmen were like this; I never would have let Jimmy go to that damned disgusting school!”

 

“We aren’t all like that,” said Brew in a solemn voice. “Most of us aren’t like that at all, matter of fact. They drummed those guys right out of there.”

 

“That’s right,” said the Commandant in a low voice. “Those boys are still in the military, but we’re making sure they pay for what they did to your son, Mrs. Decker. I’m so sorry.”

 

“I hope you are,” said Mrs. Decker in a low voice. “I really hope you are.”

 

“We’re as sorry as any of us can be,” said Commodore Wildstar. Then, the phone rang.

 

Nova got up and padded away to answer it. A moment later, she called Derek to the phone.

 

“Hello?” said Commodore Wildstar.

 

“Wildstar,” said the unmistakable voice of Commanding General Singleton. “We’ve just received bad news.”

 

“What, sir?”

 

“Are there people there?”

 

“Well, yes…mostly military…sir…we’re holding a funeral luncheon for that midshipman who died the other day at the Academy. What’s up?”

 

“Is the Commandant there?”

 

“Yessir, he is. There’s only one civilian here, as a matter of fact; the cadet’s mother. What is it, sir?” said Wildstar as Nova looked over with some interest.

 

“The Argo may have to take off again before Christmas.”

 

“She’s still in refit; but we can speed it up, I’d guess. What happened to the Arizona? Captain Venture was on patrol.”

 

“That’s the bad news. We received a transmission from the Arizona this morning from out near Barnard’s Star. It was fragmentary, then it went silent. The Arizona was under attack.”

 

“From whom, sir?”

 

“The Cometines. A General of theirs known as Balkal was behind the attack. Captain Venture relayed a message before we lost contact.”

 

“What was the message?”

 

“Princess Invidia has formally declared war on Earth, which they desire to reclaim. The Arizona was to be the first target; they want to destroy the Argo next.”

 

“They do?”

 

“They challenged you to meet them at Barnard’s Star in eight of our weeks for another round. Balkal says they will beat you. And to make matters worse; the Gamilon Embassy still has no idea what has become of Desslok, Astrena, Dellar, or Talan. It looks like we’re being beaten all around.”

 

“Sir, that’s not likely. We’ll…..sir…is the Arizona?”

 

“Missing…presumed lost. Venture said there were over a hundred ships and their wave motion gun was damaged. They were trying to warp out…when…when…we lost contact.”

 

Derek’s eyes shut; tears ran out as he thought of the dire possibility that his best friend, Mark Venture, might now be dead.

 

“Sir, “ said Wildstar. “They won’t beat us. I’ll make sure of it.”

 

“That’s what I wanted to hear,” said Singleton. “Good luck.”

 

“Thanks.”

 


 

END OF BOOK TWO “TREACHERY”

 

TO BE CONTINUED WITH BOOK THREE  -- “A ROOT OF BITTERNESS”

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