ALTERNATE TALES OF THE
STAR FORCE
STAR BLAZERS—THE BATTLES
OF THE MAGELLENIC AND THE MILKY WAY
Being the eighth 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)
Major Thanks to Michael C. Crump (aka “Max Damage”) for artwork contributed to this
chapter.
This
chapter contains some mature content, and a short scene some might find
disturbing…
ACT FOUR: DÉJÀ VU….
I.
TAKING STOCK
Space
Battleship Argo
Space,
Near Iscandar
Thursday,
July 2, 2207: 1442 Hours Earth Space-Time
On the Argo, a
briefing was taking place in the Central Strategy Room after the Star Force’s
second major battle while the ship underwent some minor repairs. Among them, as
Wildstar had noticed, the ship was being stripped for more combat by having the
anchors on her bow and sides and gun-barrel stripes painted out. The mighty old
ship now looked a bit more like she had back in 2200.
While Meldazz had been defeated, they knew that a a fleet was regrouping around Skaldart’s ship; a fleet
that they thought would turn on Gamilon next. But, they were confident that
Desslok would be able to take care of that fleet…or so they hoped.
However, relieving Iscandar was Commodore Wildstar’s
immediate concern as he listened to Nova giving a report of what they had
picked up from their Eye in the Sky scanning satellites over Iscandar from both
their units and some units recently launched by the Gamilons.
“So, they’re in the process of taking
Nova nodded. “By this analysis,” she said as IQ-9 made a
complex computer graphic appear on the deck screen, “eighty-five percent of the
Joint Base is now in enemy hands. Maybe eighty-nine percent of
“Resistance there?” asked Derek.
“Mostly fighter planes of many types,” said Eager. “They
have about forty landing ships over Iscandar and maybe fifteen or twenty Black
Nebulan warships guarding their landing ships.”
Wildstar looked over at Captain Venture and Commodore Raful
from the Shiryu, who was accompanied
by his brother Alex from the Princess
Astra. The Argo, Arizona, Shiryu, and Princess Astra
had all taken damage, but all four of these heavy space warships could still
throw two hundred and fifty planes into an attack to break the occupation of
Iscandar. Also counting the recon planes they had available from some of the
patrol cruisers that could act as attack fighters in a pinch, they had two
hundred and fifty-eight planes they could strike back with. “We have the
planes,” said Admiral Alex Wildstar. “The problem is missiles. All told, on all
four of our ships, we have just enough missiles to provide for two more deck
plane sorties; then we are out of ammo.”
“So, in order for this to work,” said Derek. “We have only
one chance to hit them, and to hit them hard. If we win, we have Iscandar
liberated, at least from landing ships and planes. We would then have to send
Marines down there to mop up the enemy ground forces.”
“With the Shiryu
repaired, more or less, I have a lot of Mud Marines embarked who are waiting
for some action,” said Commodore Raful.
“And I have Iscandarian and Pellian troopers ready to back
us up,” said Alex.
“And I’m also ready to go in there with my platoon and kick
some butt,” added Hemsford.
“Finally,” said a tall Gamilon who was standing off to one
side; a distinguished-looking semi-bald officer with a moustache named General
Egon Von Rhys. “I also have troopers waiting aboard several of my own ships.
Desslok has given them to me specifcally for mop-up on Iscandar. And Leader
Desslok has also said that he will come to Iscandar with his own fleet once the
danger to Gamilon is fought off…”
Derek nodded. “It sounds as if we are in good shape. Hardy,
when will our plames be re-fueled, re-armed and ready for another mission?”
“Fifteen-thirty, sir.”
“Would the rest of you be ready then?” said Derek.
The other commanders nodded.
“Very well, then,” said Derek. “We will make preparations for the retaking of
Iscandar. At fifteen-thirty, we will begin our advance. At fifteen-forty-five,
we launch. Our first target is
“Commodore,” said Raful. “As well as my Marines, I have a
group of EDF Seabees aboard my spacecraft carrier. They can be landed to repair
any needed runways with their equipment as soon as we have something secured.
Those men and women can help us fight, too, if needed.”
“Reminiscent of some old battles once fought on Earth, huh?”
said Derek.
“Yeah!” yelled Deke. “
“Which one?” said Wildstar. “The 1942 World War II operation
or the 2036 Unification Wars operation?”
“Both, sir,” said
“Good comparison,” said Commodore Wildstar. “Okay, people,
you know your jobs; Dismissed!”
At that, the briefing broke up.
On the Eritz Gatlantis,
Ekogaru stood behind Invidia’s throne. He was clad all in black, and he
whispered, “Invidia, encourage them…”
“Yessir,” she said. “To all
forces! We have four major fleets remaining at our beck and call! I will
strip our territories, for the most part, of our Territorial Fleets in the next
few days! But now, I speak to you,” she said as she addressed her four major
commanders on a split screen. “Skaldart and Sarda,” she said as she addressed
the remaining Black Nebulan commanders, who commanded Skaladart’s Command
Gorba, two other Gorbas, and sixty-five ships “and…Menklen, Timmalz, and
Dalphal,” she said as Gorse stood there with her. “We do not have much now.
However, we have our Terriitorial Fleets of two hundred more vessels, and I
have concluded new alliances with Baron Vilzal of what remains of House
Pangarda…”
“Wait?” said Gorse. “Invidia, you have made a deal with a
Discommended House?”
“You forget we are
also Discommended as far as the Grand
Emperor goes!” snapped Invidia. “I will make common cause with Vilzal if it
earns us four hundred more ships, three more base planets, and two hundred
thousand more troops as well as safe haven by Planet Comlassi. And the R’Khells
are sending us two hundred more vessels. Some were captured from the Rikashans,
some from a race under their sway called the Bolar Federation. They are winning
a war against that race, winning rapidly. Six hundred more ships. We can
control three planets with those ships and more!”
“We can,” said Skaldart. “I accept your offer to serve as
Governor-General over the Gamilon Empire and Gamilon, Princess.”
“You said you have a little plan for Gamilon,” said Invidia.
“What is that plan?”
“It involves two pieces of technology now being tested by
us,” said Skaldart with an evil grin. “We intend to deploy them…tomorrow…”
“Excellent!” laughed Invidia. “Menklen!” said Invidia as the
dark-haired green Cometine general bowed. “I charge you with a task!”
“Yes, Princess?” he said.
“Get between Iscandar and the Earth Task Force,” Invidia ordered. “Then use
your heavy battleships to destroy the Star Force!”
“I shall do so…with…pleasure,”
laughed Menklen as he faded out.
Some time later, on the Argo,
Nova looked at Derek, put her hands on her hips, and said, “You’re doing what?”
“Leading the Tigers and Trojans into combat from my Super
Star,” he replied.
“I thought we discussed this before, and that we agreed this
was not a good idea!” said Nova with
angry and downcast eyes before a shocked bridge crew. “I thought you said you
were going to try to avoid this…”
“Nova, I should be back aboard the ship in an hour or two,”
he replied as he put a supportive hand under her chin. She was looking at him
with tear-filled eyes. “I’ll come back safely. I promise. I order you to help
Sandor command the ship while I’m gone. This’ll be over soon.”
“It had better
be…you said the same thing when you flew off the Nagato with your brother,” snapped Nova as she hugged Derek
fiercely. Then, Nova said, “We’ve been over this before; I don’t want to have
to show our children pictures of
their father because he got killed in some mission in his fighter! I want you
there to help raise our children, damnit!” Then, they kissed quickly before she
stepped back, saluted, and said, “Returning to my post. Come back soon…sir.”
“I will,” he said. Sandor turned to yell “Wildstar!” as
Derek turned and ran off the bridge.
“Too late to stop him,” said Sandor as he looked at Nova.
“Steve, would you like to try?” said Nova.
“It might be a good idea,” said Sandor. “But….he is in
command. He gave us his orders,” sighed Sandor.
Soon,
a pensive Wildstar was back in space in the cockpit of his Super Star fighter, nodding
at the bridge as he manuevered his plane over the weather deck while he flew
off to lead the Tigers and the Trojans into combat.
“Ah heahd you and Nova had a little discussion on board
ship,” said Hardy.
“I don’t want to discuss it, Hardy,” said Derek. “Our job is
getting those guys off Iscandar. We have one chance to do it, and we’re going
in fast.”
“Just launched from the
“Reporting in, Fighter Captain,” said Flash Contrail from
his cockpit with the Sun Tigers.
“First squadron of Trojans reporting in,” said Deke
Wakefield from his cockpit, as, behind him, Sasha gave him a thumbs-up from her
place as radar intercept officer in the Diamond
Girl.
“Second squadron checking in,” said Brew from his cockpit.
“Second bloody Tiger Squadron reportin’ in, mate,” said
Hartcliffe as he flew into combat with Eric Clapton’s Layla playing very loudly in his headset.
Several other squadron commanders reported in from the Green
Hornets and the other Groups from the Shiryu
and the Princess Astra as Wildstar
nodded. Then, he barked, “All planes, begin re-entry into Iscandar’s atmosphere
and power dive! Our first target is
The
planes blasted down in an imposing group as Wildstar led them into combat.
It took only a few minutes, but, soon, they were in the sky
over Iscandar, roaring down as
Wildstar then ordered, “Sun Tigers, Green Hornets, Black
Aces, Blue Diamonds! You begin liberating the southern part of the island under
Conroy’s command! The rest of us will work on the northern part of the island.
Find Black Nebulans…fire at will! GO!”
The two groups of planes flew in together, and then split
up. One hundred and thirty-four planes followed Conroy; the other one hundred
and twenty-four birds followed Wildstar.
Derek smiled grimly to himself as he swooped in over the
runway at the edge of the fighter base and began to plaster a knot of Black
Nebulan tripod tanks with missiles. Soon, there were no longer any tripod tanks
guarding the runway. Derek gritted his teeth and then went down to treetop
level, strafing enemy troops as he roared in. There were many screams, and much
scattering of blood, brain matter, plastiflesh, and various cyborg parts as
Wildstar and Hardy began to strafe enemy troops and enemy planes that were
still on the ground.
You
thought you guys could take Iscandar? Derek thought. Now, it’s payback time, you crappy machines!
A few minutes later on Iscandar, a General Mekein of the
Black Nebulan forces was now grandly calling himself “The Occupation Commander
of Iscandar.” As of yet, he was
oblivious to the fact that Commodore Wildstar was now in the process of
breaking his occupation to pieces.
The bald Black Nebulan grinned as he sat at what had been
Commodore Priceman’s desk at the fighter base. He finished working on
Priceman’s computer and was delighted at the notice he had made.
“The first order of the Occupation,” he said proudly to an
underling as he ran off several copies of Proclamation Number One. “Advar, see
to it that two hundred copies are made of this handbill. I want it posted in
the city post-haste!”
“Yessir!” said Advar. “What of the latest round of slaves we
captured?”
“Separate the women and children from the men, and make
certain some of the children are separated from their mothers by force so as to
serve as examples. Some of the children shall get the whip. You can kill a few
to terrorize the others,” said Mekein as he opened some of Priceman’s wine and
began to drink it from a souvenier Black Tigers mug. “Ship the men off to Work
Planet Twelve before the day is out. I want some of them experimented on with
the hyperon beams to see if this plan of Skaldart’s to kill them and then put
our minds in their bodies shall work. If it does, maybe we should negotiate
with Invidia for Earth. Give some of the women to Invidia as slaves for her
draft; send the most attractive ones to the Joy Units where they will earn
their living comforting our men…”
Advar nodded eagerly. “May I have first pick?”
“Yes, except for three of them once we complete the
occupation,” said Mekein as he looked at a picture on Priceman’s desk. “Her
Highness, of course, goes back to Invidia. I’m having some trouble deciding
whether I want the golden-blond one or the honey-blond one in my bed after we
slaughter their husbands in front of them. Maybe both. Wouldn’t these two
beside the Queen look cute chained up?” said Mekein as he smiled.
The picture he turned towards Advar was a picture of Queen
Starsha, flanked by Sasha, and by Nova.
The Black Nebulans laughed until another aide ran into the
room.
“Sirs!” he said. “Large wave of enemy planes spotted in the
ionosphere of Iscandar! They’re heading right for this station! I…”
Then, a moment later, there was an explosion outside.
“They’re here!” yelled the aide.
“Damned nuisance,” said Mekein. “All right, let us resist!
Standard measures!”
“Remember!”
snapped Cory Conroy as he and the Sun Tigers broke off from the main body of
the fighters over Iscandar and dived towards the base. “We want Black Nebulans
dead! We are to only damage our own equipment if it is being used against us!”
“Roger that,” said Flash Contrail from his plane.
They dropped down towards the runways, and began to strafe
any Black Nebulans they saw running for their planes. They weren’t picky. They
went after the planes, too, and they also had a great time shooting down any
Cometines they saw working with the blue-grey cyborgs.
The planes then began to climb again as a few enemy troop
carrier ships were spotted.
They went after them with gusto.
Conroy whooped as his flight blew two apart in a minute.
So far, the battle was going well…very well.
Up in the sky, in the meantime, Commodore Derek Wildstar was
still flying along, personally leading the Black Tigers and the Trojans in to
attack from the cockpit of his Super Star fighter.
Deke
A few Black Nebulan pilots launched from one of the runways,
but Sasha tapped Deke on the shoulder and said, “They’re heading to port,
Deekee!”
“Roger that,” snapped Deke. “Heading off for
“Will they succeed?” said Sasha.
“Not if I can help it!” replied Deke as he shot missiles
into three Black Nebulan fighters. A few fired back at him, but he took them
out.
Brew flew up, with Bangs beside him and said, “My opinion
is, these guys suck!”
“Agreed!” snapped Deke. “There’s our old headquarters!” said
Deke. “Look at all of those Black Nebulans running outside!”
“I don’t think they like the sight of us!” sang Bangs over
her mike.
“You know what to do, guys!” snapped Deke.
“SPINDLETOP TIME!” yelled Brew. “Let’s strafe those idiots!”
Brew was the first one to begin strafing the group of
stunned Black Nebulans. Deke followed, and Bangs was the last one to fire.
Deke blew Advar in half. Bangs shot off a shocked General
Mekein’s head as Brew shot the rest of him into pieces of mechanical junk and
red jelly.
Two minutes later, there were no Black Nebulans left outside
the old EDF Base Headquarters.
“How’s the situation?” said Wildstar in
“We’re taking out some vehicles near the north end of the
runway, sir!” said
“Give it thirty more seconds, then we’ll let Conroy mop up!
Prepare to break off and meet me; we’re going to
“Yessir!” said Hardy.
Soon, a minute later, Wildstar’s group broke off, noticing
that the Black Nebulan presence on
Wildstar nodded as his group flew over the sacred beach,
heading north to free
On Iscandar, at least, the Black Nebulan occupation was
finally beginning to break…
II.
THE FOG OF WAR…
Space
Battleship Argo
Orbiting
Iscandar
Thursday,
July 2, 2207: 1602 Hours Earth Space-Time
Lt. Cmdr. Nova Wildstar had calmed down somewhat, thinking, I guess this is war, and Derek feels he
has to lead his pilots in a crucial operation…but I wish he would have listened
and commanded this operation from the bridge, where he belongs! I think he’ll
be okay, but why do I have the feeling that he’s going to pay for this somehow?
Not that I’d do it, but more like Karma will pay him back for this? Karma?
Destiny?
Nova sighed and sat at her radar holding a microphone on a
coiled cord. The mike connected to a jack on her board that patched through to
Communications. For the moment, since Sandor was working on some battle damage
to one of the auxilary engines that the ship had taken a few minutes ago thanks
to some Black Nebulan planes, she was in command of the Argo as Officer of the Deck, and since she had on a headset that
patched right through to Derek’s plane through another cord, she was his
representative as commanding officer of the Task Force.
War.
It can always be a confusing situation, Nova thought. I was just reading this book from Captain
Avatar’s old library in our cabin the other day; a book on the
As she watched her radar and conditions around her, part of
Nova’s mind drifted back two hundred and sixty-three years, back to October
1944, back to what she had read about the battle at sea in a historical novel
that Derek had read over and over again, highlighted in several places, and had
finally gotten her to read….back in the past, the situation was similar to what
was going on now in this wide-ranging battle…
A
Selection From: The Lost Battleship
Yamato: A Retrospective, A Novel by Warren Hirsch, © 2189, Hyperion Press.
Web and Print Publishers, Ltd.
October 25, 1944
Imperial Navy Battleship Yamato
Vicinity of the
0658 Hours, Local Time….
“Teki da!” (“It’s the Enemy”!) screamed a
lookout on the Yamato’s bridge.
From his command
seat on the Yamato’s bridge, Admiral
Kurita, commander of the Task Force, nodded with a samurai’s grunt as he
watched a number of dots converging on his ship. It was a few brave pilots from
Taffy Three, a nearby American task group consisting of a few light carriers, a
few destroyers, a few destroyer escorts. Through a number of miscalculations
and historical accidents, this small task group was all that was between
Kurita’s fleet and an American landing force in Leyte Gulf at the moment; a few
ships literally “In Harm’s Way” against an overwhelming but somewhat confused
Japanese fleet.
“General
Attack!” snapped Kurita. “Every ship for itself! No delay!”
As the
bugler nodded and got onto the Intership PA to blow the proper signals, a voice
came from the aft part of the bridge. “We should coordinate this attack!”
barked back Kurita’s deputy, Admiral Ugaki. “I want those gaijin wiped out like the cockroaches they are!”
“Those
are brave men, coming like that, Ugaki-kun,”
said Kurita as he watched the few American planes coming on like juggernauts
through the black clouds of flak his fleet was putting up. “I have the
impression we are fighting a foe who is tougher than we think. We need to show
him respect. We have little air cover. We have to open the main guns now and
fire.”
Soon, the
Yamato’s guns fired. They fired
incendiary rounds called sen-shiki-dan—nasty
bomblets inside the ship’s 46-centimeter shells meant to bring down planes.
They were
only partly successful. Some of the planes from the smallish American “jeep”
carrier
Some
pilots had torpedoes. Others had bombs. Some just strafed the ships as they
passed. A few observers on Yamato’s
open bridge were decapitated by a combination of bullets and shrapnel as the
Americans braved the super-battleship’s bullets to perform their assigned
tasks.
One
pilot, an American named Lt. (j.g.) Frederick Rosstowski, is said to have
thrown a Coke bottle at the Yamato’s
bridge when he ran out of bullets. He is said to have survived, and it is
thought that his descendants have lived on to our time in the twenty-second
century…
The bleeping of the radar jerked Nova’s mind out of 1944 and
back into 2207 as she looked at her screen.
“Enemy force approaching!” cried Nova. “They just warped in!
Domon! Ship identification-Cometine! Four space battleships and twelve space
destroyers! Range, eight megameters off port bow! They’re trying to get between
us and Iscandar!”
One of the enemy ships fired its shock cannon at an EDF
patrol cruiser just as Nova cried those words. It hit and destroyed the patrol
cruiser
Kitano began to turn with a nod at Nova’s order as Nova
realized the rest of the fleet was following her orders.
On the enemy flagship, the Cometine space battleship Destrava, General Menklen sat grinning
as an officer reported to him. “General! Squadron attack commenced! The Argo has taken damage!”
“Wonderful,” said Menklen. “Viscont Tre’ger..” he purred.
A minor R’Khell R’Jkharraz
in red and black who wore something that looked like a white khaffiyeh headscarf on his head bowed to
Menklen and said. “Star Force is scattered. The dread Commodore Wildstar is off
flying a mission, and his executive officer repairs damage.”
“Who commands the Argo then?” said
Menklen.
“A mere girl, I sense…” chuckled Tre’ger after he closed his
eyes and scanned the Argo with his
powers.. “I am not an adept, and they are too far away for me to attack
psychically so I can strangle the enemy commander. She is Wildstar’s little concubine. She has
no experience to speak of that I am aware of, and…”
“Enemy fleet forning main battle line!” barked a radar
officer. “They may be more effective than we thought!”
“Main shock cannons ready!”
yelled a bearded Cometine officer on the Destrava’s
bridge.
“All right, young lady concubine,” sneered Menklen. “Let’s
see how long we can play this out. It might be fun tormenting you before we
kill you along with your ship. And won’t your paramour be disappointed?”
Menklen laughed like a maniac at that.
Menklen didn’t know Nova very well, of course…
They’re
moving fast, thought Nova as she watched the
enemy fleet herself. But I think I’ve got
the drop on you, enemy commander. Don’t underestimate me….I’m here to defend
innocent lives; not to play your cruel games! Then, Nova got a hard look in
her eyes that Derek would have been very proud of if he had been there to see
it.
A second later, Domon and Nishina were already computing a
firing solution as they said, “Main guns, train to forty-five degrees port;
elevation plus twelve degrees!”
Nova then heard Homer yelling, “Ma’am, on the
“Go for it!” snapped Nova as sweat ran down her back while
three beams of energy slammed into the Argo’s
port side. At that, the
“Minor damage taken!” yelled a voice on the PA.
“Hold course, Kitano! Domon, how long?” snapped Nova.
“Five more seconds!”
“Enemy destroyer overhead!” yelled Eager.
“Mister Nishina! Smokestack
missiles!” snapped Nova.
“Aye!” he barked back from Artillery.
“Domon, where are those main guns?” cried Nova.
“Ma’am, the crews are doing the best that they can!” retorted Domon.
The Argo’s
smokestack missiles went off and got the Cometine destroyer just as she was
diving to try to both shoot up and ram the Argo.
“
Homer yelled, “Venture reports the Fleet is ready!”
“We’ve crossed their “T”!” snapped Nova. “FIRE!”
The Argo fired her
guns to port, followed by the
One Cometine battleship fired its shock cannon vortex beams
right at the Argo as it got on her
six in a crazed turn that tore bulkheads and damaged systems in the ship; which
was almost suicidal in its determination to get the mighty Earth space
battleship, its guns blasting apart the EDF destroyers Burke and Adley as they
tried to ram the enemy ship in this mad, close-quarters battle.
Artwork: “Broadside” © 2008 by M.C. Crump (“Max Damage”)
Used By Permission
Over Iscandar, Derek looked up as some almost-dissipated shock
cannon beams bored into the atmosphere and hit the far-off ocean like ghosts.
“There’s somethin’ nasty goin’ on up theah, Wildstah!” said
Hardy.
“Damnit, they’re jumping Nova and Venture!” snapped Derek.
“Nova!” he snapped on the frequency. “What the frack is going on up there?”
“Cometine bandits!” said Nova, who sounded very out of
breath. “Sandor’s still down below in the auxilary engine room; port side. We
have it shut down-power’s reduced! I counterattacked with the fleet; took out
two-thirds of the enemy fleet, and…”
“..and what?”
“Enemy Cometine battlewagon is on our stern! It’s trying to
use those vortex shock gun things on us!”
“I’m coming back up there!” snapped Derek. “You need our
help! Tigers…regroup and…”
Derek then heard the sound of the Argo’s main guns going off from inside the ship over the circuit.
His heart went sick when he heard static, and then cheering….
On the Destrava,
which had taken damage, Menklen sat there with his mouth open on a smoking
bridge as most of his fleet was turned to space trash, and his own crew tried
to begin repairing battle damage caused by the Argo herself. Nova was much
smaller in person than the 6’ 9” tall Cometine general, but the young woman, he
had found, had teeth, claws, and 46 centimeter main guns.
“We have just four ships left!” said his radar officer. “Our
flagship, one battleship with heavy damage, two destroyers!”
“Recommend we ram them!” said Tre’ger, who stood shaking his fist.
“Arishna has abandoned us!” muttered Menklen. “I lost my
first battle.”
“Their guns are training on us!” yelled Menklen’s radar
officer as the Argo’s guns locked
dead onto his ship.
“Warp us out of here!” yelled Menklen. “Maximum power!”
Derek Wildstar was only hearing static for the moment as he
flew along and yelled, “Nova! NOVA!”
I
killed her by leaving the ship, he thought. Her and our children…this is all my fault!
On the Argo, Nova
smiled when Domon said, “Ready to fire, ma’am,” with a crazy grin.
“You know what to do,” said Nova as she looked at her screen
and then pounded the board in frustration. “FUDGE!” she cried. “UH…” she added.
“These guys just warped out! Homer, get me back on the horn with Derek! Darn
static…”
“Aye, aye, ma’am…” he said.
Sandor came on the bridge and said, “Nova, are you all
right?”
“Tired…we got most of them-the rest ran; probably a bunch of
dishonorable cowards. If I were in their shoes, I would have rammed and sent
Marines to board,” she said as she caught her breath.
“We have an uplink with the Commodore’s plane!”
Nova tapped her mike and said, “Derek!”
“Nova!” he yelled back in his cockpit. “Are you all right?”
He had his breath taken away for a moment as he heard her voice again. Thank You, God, he thought. He breathed
again when Nova said, “Yes…we’re done, sir! Cometine battleship destroyed-enemy
fleet scattering and warping out. Sandor’s back on the bridge, too! I brought
down twelve out of sixteen ships…was that okay?”
“It sure was,” said Derek as tears of gratitude ran down his
cheeks. “Tell Sandor to take command; good job in a lousy situation, Nova.”
“Thanks,” gasped Nova as she gave Sandor the microphone and
headset and the conn. Derek then said, “Steve?”
“We’re fine, but your Lieutenant Commander is sweating
buckets and her pulse rate is way out there,” said Sandor as he felt the pulse
on Nova’s neck against her protests. “Relieve her?”
“Nova, before you take off that headset, great job! You’re relieved! I should be
back on the ship in thirty minutes or less. Go take a nap, Mrs. Wildstar,” said
Derek, momentarily a worried husband rather than a commander.
“You’re worrying about me?”
said Nova. “I’m worrying about you,
Cowboy!”
“Go to sleep, Peppermint. I’ll wake you up,” said Derek.
“Stop calling me that,” said Nova as an Ensign took her
post. She stood up, stretched, and looked lost. Sandor turned around and said,
“Nova, you’ve been relieved. Get off this bridge and catch some sleep.”
“I can do another watch,” she said defiantly. “As long as he’s out there, I’m on duty. I’ll crash
when he’s back on this ship.”
Sandor reluctantly stood. “Nova. You’ve been like a little
sister to me; the kid sister I never had. You have a crazy man out there who
loves you to death and he told me that it rips his heart out every time he has
to get into that cockpit and fly and leave his pregnant wife on this ship
“biting her nails and cursing me out in her head” as I quote. But, you know
we’re not in a good situation. You’ve barely slept in two days. You’re over
seven months pregnant. You pulled off a new one today. You must be the first
pregnant woman in the history of the Fleet to have won a Navy Cross conning a
ship in combat in your delicate condition.”
Nova nodded dully. “Thanks.”
Sandor then said to her in a low voice as he put his
friendly cyborg hands on her shoulders. “Now, please go up there and get some
rest before you pass out and we have to carry you off this bridge. When I get a
minute, I’ll send some orderly up there with food for you. You need it. You
look as white as a sheet. Get up there and get out of that uniform, get a
shower, and get into a robe before I carry you up there and do it myself with
you punching my lights out.”
“You wouldn’t,” said Nova.
“Nova, who do you think carried you out of the Cosmo-DNA
working compartment after you went unconscious on us and we couldn’t find your
pulse? Derek was just holding your body and going psychotic….”
“Point taken, Steve…” she muttered. “I stand relieved.” She
saluted and then yawned. IQ-9 came over and helped her walk off the bridge.
Yamazaki shook his head sadly as they left. “That poor kid’s
really pushing herself.”
“Think she’d make a good Captain?” said Nishina. “That quick
thinking saved our asses.”
“She already is, actually,” said Sandor. “But it’s not what she
wants out of life. She wants to be a doctor and a mother in that order. God
bless that girl. She will be both soon if we survive this war.”
“If,” said Homer. He looked really worried.
“What’s wrong?” said Sandor as he came over.
“Communications dispatch I got on the wire,” Homer said.
“The R’Khells showed up near Earth; minor bombing raid near
Sandor just nodded and wnt “hmmmm…I know what you mean…”
“What is it?” said Domon. “What does
“His fiancee’, Wendy Singleton, is on TDY there at SouthCal
Command Heaquarters.”
“And I can’t stand
it!” sobbed Homer as he held his head and cried.
“It’s going to be all right, son,” said Yamazaki as he got
up, went over to Homer’s post and put a comforting arm around his shoulder.
“Things like that have a way of working out.”
“I’m depressed as hell this cruise,” said Eager.
“I think that goes for all of us,” said Sandor.
III.
SURVIVAL…
Derek
Wildstar’s Super Star Fighter
Over
Iscandar
Thursday,
July 2, 2207: 1638 Hours Earth Space-Time
Wildstar’s planes met some stubborn resistance over the sea
near
A few Black Nebulans and a knot of Cometine planes and boats
were there to oppose them as they swooped in over the embattled city.
Wildstar could see the towers of
C’mon,
he thought as he flew his plane hard and jinked hard to evade some missiles
fired ftrom a Scorpion boat. Just a few
more of them! Let’s just shoot down these enemy jokers so we can give the next
set of Marines a clear landing zone. Then I wanna get home. Nova’s probably
having kittens right about now!
As if in answer to his thoughts, Nova’s somewhat crackly
voice came over his headset. “Derek! Are you all right out there? Over!”
Maybe
she’s a little psychic, he smiled to himself as he
answered back, “Are you blocking Fleet Communications just to call me?” he said
as he got a bead on the Scorpion boat and shot at it. “OVER!”
“No, I’m up in our cabin resting with a headset on.” Nova
had the privacy cover up; from their quarters, she could look down on Iscandar
and could actually just make out little flashes of light coming from the
continents every now and then; the lights of the distant battle. I can access things from up here, though. I’m
using the sideband frequency we always used when we flew together!” said Nova
through the static and the slight whine. “I’m in just in my robe right now…took
a shower a minute ago…”
“Okay! Are you mad at me?”
“Mostly no,” she said with a slight smile. “I think you can
fix the rest if you treat me very nicely when you come home,” she purred
impishly as she closed up a bottle of nail polish.
“Good. I’ll be back soon. Keep dinner waiting, or at least
some tea…I…CRAP!”
“DEREK!” cried Nova from her bed with her headset on.
She heard blasting and slamming noises and chewed her nails
with anxiety. Why isn’t he reporting?
Nova thought as she clenched the blanket on the bunk with her fingers and toes
in frustration. Nova hoped she didn’t wreck her recent handiwork. She had been
polishing her toenails with clear polish right before she got the implusive
urge to tap in on Derek. Using her woman’s intuition, she had then plugged in
to make sure he was all right. Is he
fighting? Or did he..?
In combat, Wildstar saw a Tiger near him shot down in a ball
of flame. He looked back. The culprit was a Scorpion boat.
Derek did a flip to get the enemy boat off his six, and he
did a frontal attack as he multiplexed up another frequency. “Hardy! We’ve got
a knot of crap here!” he barked, knowing that Nova was hearing him. “Get some
boys over here to seven klicks off the beach of the Great Continent. I’m not
far from the cove where
“Gotcha!” he said.
Derek fired a missile. The Scorpion was hit, and it fired a
final burst into Derek’s left wing a moment later.
“CRAP!” yelled Derek. “Damnit!” he yelled as he saw lights
going off all over the place on his dashboard. “The left ram’s been hit!”
“DEREK!” cried Nova as she thought, I distracted him, it’s all my fault, it’s all my fault! How could you
have so stupid, woman! Calling him up to chatter like a housewife when he’s in
combat! If he dies because of this, I’m shooting myself!
“Hardy, Nova! Hardy, you and
Wildstar pulled the plane’s nose up hard as he pulled out
and began to throttle down for a moment. His engine sounded very sick, and the
plane was vibrating like crazy. He was unhurt himself, but his Super Star was
trailing smoke. He looked back. “Damnit, the fire’s not going out!”
Derek flipped the channel back to just Nova again. “Nova!
I’m five klicks…six klicks…away from the battle! Coordinates! RP-45 by JAZ 242!
Middle of the block! Keeping my helmet transponder on!”
“What are you doing?” cried Nova.
“Punching out. This thing is toast!”
Nova heard loud blasting noises and then static as Derek
pulled his ejection handle and the ejection seat blasted him up out of his
Super Star at maybe 4,000 meters altitude. “Derek!” she screamed. “Derek!”
Then, closing her eyes, she heard a splash and vaguely made
out an explosion. Then, Derek came on line and said, over the wound of
whistling wind, “Well, that’s the end of that bit of the taxpayers’ money…oh
well…”
“You’re alive!” she cried.
“Yeah, but banged up a little,” said Derek as he balanced on
the survival chute that was part of the ejection seat’s survival gear. He moved
his hips, and the part of his harness that held a life vest and survival
supplies tore away from the rest of the seat cushion after he undid a pull
cord. He reached down and got rid of his flight boots, knowing he’d be in the
water soon. It would be easier to just swim barefoot. “Well, at least we know
the water’s warm on Iscandar,” he said. “Just pray that the enemy doesn’t show
up and start strafing at my head while I’m in the drink…”
“I’m coming for you!” said Nova with a new urgency as she
got up and tore off her robe. Naked, she dug in her locker for the upper half
of her wetsuit and her helmet. She slid into her yellow wetsuit, ignoring the
bottoms (she liked it better bare-legged, especially in very warm water) as she
strapped the single wide strap over her crotch to hold down the jacket and for
some very minimal covering over her lower pregnant tummy and crotch
area…although, in her state of anxious desperation right now, she would have
swam in the nude to rescue him if she had to and had no water gear around.
Nova added to herself, Of
course, if I wasn’t pregnant, I would have been in that plane with him right
now…and we’d both be in the water now…funny…
Nova pulled on a helmet, scribbled down his coordinates on a
waterproof diving notepad and zipped up her wetsuit jacket. She said, “I’m
coming for you with Dawn in a medical boat! If we have to, we’ll rescue other
pilots! Hang tight! I’ll be there soon!”