ALTERNATE
TALES OF THE STAR FORCE
STAR BLAZERS---A STRANGE INTERLUDE…
Being the fifth 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. DEPARTURES
Deep Space
Ten Thousand Lightyears
away from
The Melezart System
Monday, October 20, 2206
1000 Hours: Earthtime
The
battered remnants of the Gamilon, Rikashan, and Earth fleets warped away from
the Melezart System about a day after making repairs and burying their dead in
space.
The
ships had warped together until they were sure they were out of the vicinity of
Melezart, which they estimated would remain a molten mass for at least several
weeks to months. It was now a dead planet, so it didn’t matter much.
Finally,
Desslok was set to leave. He hadn’t spoken to Commodore Wildstar for several
days…until now.
Both
men faced each other across space…they were standing on the decks of the Argo and the Farushar. Desslok was protected under his ship’s shield, and went
unhelmeted, while Wildstar wore a spacesuit set. They were both very subdued.
“Desslok,”
said Commodore Wildstar. “Where are you going, now?”
“Back to Gamilon. We have
much that we must rebuild. We have much to consider again. This battle cost us
both very much, Wildstar. I must leave now because life support in many of my
ships was damaged in the battle, and our time is limited without shipyard work.
That includes my own carrier. I have left a liasion officer aboard the
Derek
nodded his helmeted head and went quiet.
“Wildstar…I
am so sorry about what happened on that planet. Nova was very brave and
kind…her actions took me by surprise. I never expected she could make such a
sacrifice for me. She is a very dear friend. How is she?”
“Her
life was, and is, in danger, Desslok.
She is currently…in cryogenic freeze until we can return to Earth to have her
treated and operated on.”
“I…see,”
said Desslok quietly. “You know that I tried to save her…with the help of your
young pilot,
“He
will be…Desslok.”
“I
will be in touch. When we rebuild our forces, that evil has to be both defeated
and eradicated. I cannot tolerate Invidia’s further existence in the universe.
It is a curse to me to know that she has lived. I swear that I will not rest,
Wildstar, until we are avenged.”
“Thank
you, Desslok…”
Desslok
raised his hand. “Farewell, Commodore Wildstar. We will meet again…soon…” Then,
with a snap of his cape, he turned and went into his ship.
Wildstar
saluted and held the salute until what remained of the Gamilon-Garuman fleet
pulled away and then executed a space warp as they headed for home.
“Farewell,
Desslok. Good sailing,” said Derek as he blinked back tears.
On
the
“You
can’t be serious,” said the Commander as he looked at Cha’rif.
“I
am,” said the Rikashan lord. “Ekogaru was there during the fracas in the Great
Hall of the People.”
“But
he’s dead!” said Derek.
“If
he is, he makes a very healthy spectre,” snapped Cha’rif. “I did battle with
him myself, Derek Wildstar. I have no idea how, but the man lives.”
“How
did you see him?” said Venture.
“He
came in a different guise than we are used to,” said Cha’rif as a strange image
of a pyramid in the jungle somewhere and a spectral form rising from a Sphere
came to Derek Wildstar’s mind. He had no idea what that particular vision, one
of many visions that went through his head in the next minute or so, meant.
“Yet, the man lives.”
“Was
he embodied?” said the Commander.
“He
was linked to the body of some person there in that hall,” said Cha’rif. “Which
body and which person, I know not. I didn’t have time to probe more deeply as I
had to fight for my phsyical and psychic life against him. But he lives.”
“Some
weird memory is coming to my mind,” said Derek, as if half in a dream. “El
Tigre. A pyramid. Ekogaru rising. A race team called Go Team. The Doctor.”
“The
Doctor?” said General Singleton. “Doctor? Doctor Who?”
Then,
they heard a commotion outside. “No!” yelled a Marine guard. “I have no idea
who you are! There is a Command Meeting taking place in that compartment! I
have no idea where you and that blue
phone booth came from, but…”
The
door whizzed open, to reveal a strange scene.
A
Space Marine with his blaster rifle raised was snapping at a tall man with
tousled dark brown hair and horn-rimmed glasses on a deceptively young-looking
face. He wore a wrinkled brown pinstriped suit, rumpled fawn-looking topcoat,
and white sneakers.
“It’s
not a phone booth,” snapped the
newcomer in a peeved British accent. “It’s called a TARDIS! And this
certificate indicates I have a perfect right to see your Commanding General!
And now! This certificate is my warrant from Torchwood Unit Six!” he snapped as
he held up a black folder. It was a plain folder, but the Doctor now had a new
power, thanks to a link with his TARDIS, that could make an observer believe
they were seeing any sort of document, pass or license in any alien langauage
the Doctor wished the viewer to see it in. The Time Lord found this very useful
for getting into places he would not have otherwise been admitted to.
“Uhhmm…who
are you?” said Singleton.
The
man turned about, walked up, and pumped Singleton’s hand. “I’m the Doctor, of course. You mean you’ve never
heard of me? You must not get out very much, sir!”
“You’re
not the Doctor!” snapped Derek. “He’s a man with curly hair and a twelve-meter
long goofy scarf, or does he have white hair and a cape?”
“Those
were earlier incarnations of me,” said the Doctor.
“Ah…the
man with Ten Faces,” said Cha’rif.
“Ten
Faces?” said a thoroughly confused Venture.
“Yes,”
replied Cha’rif. “He has ten faces because he is of a race that can regenerate
their bodies and change their outward appearances and personality in that
rejuvenation. This man has regenerated nine times, and thus, he has Ten Faces,”
said Cha’rif. “He is hundreds, perhaps thousands of years old. Doctor. We meet
at last. I thought you were a legend. Do you not always show up on the Wings of
Death?”
“Bad
wolf,” smiled the Doctor as he nodded at Cha’rif. “Let’s see. You’ve got the
Time War, you’ve got Cybermen, you’ve got the bloody Daleks,” said the Doctor
as he waved his hands around as if he had ingested twelve cups of coffee,
“And…you’ve got…Ekogaru. Ekogaru. Nasty stuff. Bad juju, And he’s the reason
I’m here.”
“He’s..the
reason you are here?” said the Commander.
“I
would have sent Melvin but he’s on a three-day drunk somewhere in a gutter on
Gamma Vega Twelve. Nasty skid row there; the old goon loves it.”
“Your
people died in the Time War,” said Cha’rif baldly. “Time War. Legend of ours.
But, apparently, on this ship, legends walk in from out of the bulkheads. But
he is authentic. No one else has two heartbeats I can pick up.”
“Not
him. And he’s not entirely one of my people,” said the Doctor.
“So,
why are you here, Doctor?” asked Veyzor of Gamilon. “We look askance upon you
every time you enter the Empire. You are a busy-body, a troublemaker, and a
weirdo. You also insulted Leader Desslok once.”
“Come
now, I rather thought that picture of Desslok would look better with a
moustache on it! I am here to tell you Ekogaru’s not dead,” said the Doctor.
“Wildstar, years ago, you and Nova met one of my earlier incarnations in the
late twentieth century to stop a plot by the R’Khells to destroy Earth by
ruining it in the past. You worked with some race car drivers and agents of
Interpol to stop this invasion. You may not remember it. I believe the memories
were deliberately suppressed. In this invasion, one of my people, known as The
Master, went mad and found a Sphere that held Ekogaru’s essence. He almost took
over Earth and the universe with it, but the Sphere passed through a time warp
to your time. It has been found, and Ekogaru has been exerting his influence
through someone else whom he has possessed.”
“Do
you know who it is?” sighed Cha’rif.
“No.
That’s….the bad part,” sighed the Doctor. “But I sense he is aboard this ship.”
“A
search might be in order?” asked Venture.
The
Doctor nodded. “But do not have it performed by myself or by Lord Cha’rif. Have
it performed by a member of your Fleet who is psi-capable…”
“Aliscea
Rosstowski,” said The Commander.
“Bingo!”
said the Doctor. “Have her brought here, and I will brief her before I leave.”
“You
must leave already?” said Veyzor.
“I
must be running soon. Trouble on Beta Sigma Twelve, and Rose is getting cooped
up back in my TARDIS.”
“Who’s
Rose?” said Venture.
“Travelling
companion,” said the Doctor as he ran his sonic screwdriver over a suspicious
Veyzor for a moment. “Bad filling in your tooth, General. I was just adjusting
it. No charge for my services…this time.”
Half
an hour later, Aliscea, having been briefed by the Doctor, sat in meditation,
preparing to probe for Ekogaru’s presence while Singleton and Captain Walsh
mustered the entire crew of the
“YESSIR!”
yelled the crew while, at the back of the ranks, Stovall began to sweat.
“We’ll
be found,” he muttered. “They’ll find you, and then, it’s all over for us, when
they put me against the wall and shoot…”
“Patience,”
said Ekogaru in his mind. “Have I not prepared for this possibility? I will
leave you and I can temporarily take the Sphere with me into subspace for a
short time. I will return to you later,” he whispered in Stovall’s mind.
“Lordship,
I…” muttered Stovall.
“Hey,
Marine, what are you mumbling about?” barked another Space Marine next to him.
“You wacko in the head, Stovall?”
“Nothing,”
he said as he put his hands in his pockets. He touched the Sphere just as it,
and the presence of the Dark Lord, temporarily faded away. He smiled, looking
as innocent as a lamb as the search party gradually came up to him.
Finally,
Aliscea herself stood before him. “Well, Corporal. What are we grinning about?”
“It’s
a good day, ma’am. Great day to be alive in the Fleet.”
“I
don’t trust you,” she whispered. “I must probe your mind…”
“What?”
“I
sense something,” whispered Aliscea as she put her hand on Stovall’s forehead.
“A presence I have not sensed since…”
Stovall
breathed hard and sweated and trembled as he felt Aliscea rutting through his
mind. Wildstar looked on and said, “Aliscea?”
“Something
odd here,” she said. “Commander…?”
“Mrs
Rosstowski?” said Singleton.
Aliscea
broke the contact slowly, looking very disappointed. “Nothing here, after all…”
she said slowly. “Nothing but deep psionic B.O. and everyday, garden-variety
human evil in deep measure…” Then, she pulled back from Stovall and slapped him
across the face. “AND HOW DARE YOU THINK THAT ABOUT ME?” she snapped. “I AM A
MARRIED WOMAN, YOU PERVERT!”
“You’re
right pretty, ma’am!” said Stovall.
“Stow
it, Corporal!” snapped Commanding General Singleton. “One more crack like that
and you’ll be on report! Check the next man, Aliscea.”
“Aye,
sir,” said Aliscea as she looked daggers at Stovall before going on.
TWO HOURS LATER…
The
Doctor left a short time later. In the meantime, the crew of the
With
a lot of grumbling, the crew of the
“The
old legends about Ekogaru state he had many strange powers when he was
alive…powers far beyond that of a normal R’jhkarraz psionic of our culture,”
said Cha’rif as the leader and Rikashan mystic played with his long brown hair.
“We will be on the watch for him. We even have agents in the R’Khell Union who
shall be on the watch now. And, someday, I will defeat that rebel band of our
people and reunite our Federation. Until then, we have much to fear from those
fanatics who still believe Ekogaru is, or was, some kind of god.”
“How
long will your fleet remain with us, Cha’rif?” said the Commander.
“For
three days, until we reach the edge of our galaxy. Then, we must part ways, for
now. Be assured that Rikasha remains faithful to the
“As
does Gamilon,” said Veyzor. “We feel shame that we could not escort you home,
but…”
“That
is all right,” said Singleton. “We understand the reports that Desslok and
Talan sent about the damage in their fleet. In a sense, you lost the most in
that battle at Melezart.”
“No,”
hissed Veyzor. “The Cometines lost more than we did. And we were so close to
destroying them, too. If only that proton missile hadn’t merely grazed the Eritz Gatlantis rather than hitting her
point-blank…”
“Still,
we did stop their progress,” said Singleton.
“For
only a while,” said Wildstar. “They’ll be back….if Invidia is still alive, that
is.”
II. INVIDIA’S DISGRACE
Cometine Space
The Vicinity of Planet
Petronia
Thursday, October 23,
2206
1715 Hours: Earthtime
In
spite of Ekogaru’s dark “resurrection” of her, Princess Invidia’s realm was
still, in effect, limited to a hospital room in the badly damaged Eritz Gatlantis.
The
doctors and nurses handled her very gingerly and said as little as
possible—especially since Invidia had sucessfully ordered the execution of
every doctor and nurse who had worked on her as she lay dying many days ago in
the battle. Some of their severed heads were posted on poles around various
parts of the city-ship.
Invidia
had also had three thousand officers and men executed in what she called a
“purge” in order to root out those whom she felt were disloyal, in order to make
examples of them and to bind the rest of the House together in loyalty to her
out of fear.
However,
fear did not automatically guarantee obedience.
Dyre
and Gorse came in together to visit Invidia as she lay in her bed of pain.
“How
goes the war?” she hissed as her generals came in.
“Right
now, it is not going anywhere, save from some small attacks we have started
again at our former worlds at Sirius and Procyon,” said Dyre. “We are getting
back into a position to harry the Earthlings again. Soon, we will start afresh
with the Gamilons.”
“How
many ships have we left in the Fleet?” yelled Invidia.
“Two
hundred with us,” said Gorse. “Others are being levied from our base worlds. We
are cutting back on defenses, Princess, per your orders in order to build up
decent patrol and offensive forces.”
“What
about the shipyards?” she snapped.
“We
are in the process of capturing and training more slaves and forcing the slaves
we have to build planes and new warships more quickly,” said Gorse. “At most,
we may have fifty or sixty new ships of the line ready for trials by the end of
this Imperial Year.”
“Not
good,” snapped Invidia. “Make them work harder!”
“We
have been using the stick, so long, Princess, that it is starting to lose its
utility,” said Dyre. “We are facing strikes and work stoppages on two worlds
because the slaves want more rations.”
“Well,
kill some of them!” raged Invidia. “Make examples of them! When has the Comet
Empire ever treated people with kindness? Enough coddling! Make them like
children under the whip, not like babies at the mother’s damned breast! We have
to win this war! And I still want Desslok tortured to death! How dare he say he
rules over US?”
“He
commands loyalty,” said Dyre in a nervous tone. “Why, Intelligence even says
that Desslok is convincing his allies to begin building ships for him and his
“Who?
Where?” hissed Invidia.
“It
is some plan they have called ‘Neo-Lend-Lease’ in Terran,” said Dyre. “Members
of their
Invidia
snarled as Dyre said, “It is true. They are working together to begin building
an Empire to challenge us and the R’Khells. It would seem our latest attacks
have only stiffened their resolve to fight.”
“Yes,”
said Gorse. “That is why we need to win this war, and soon…”
“Gorse,
I must say that I agree with you,” said Invidia. “If we do not win this war by
the end of the next Imperial Year, it may be too late.”
In
the meantime, deep in the Eritz Gatlantis,
“So
it is that bad?” said Radnar.
“Yes.
Invidia is showing herself to be a thorough atheist. A hundred priests were
slaughtered in the past few days alone in part of her purge. It is only by
acting innocuous that I have managed to escape death, sir.”
“Still
I appreciated the report you sent yesterday. And you uploaded a holo-clip
today?”
“Yes.
A declaration of Zordar’s you may find useful…we…”
“We
have it already. In fact, I have seen to it that it was transmitted to
“An
Inquest?” said
“It
may. I have heard rumor that the Throne may be asking for an Inquest on the war
itself. I know that they are not happy with how it is proceeding, and you know
Invidia has been ordered to stop. The Empire’s loss at Melezart has begun to
convince people, I am told, that Invidia may be a threat to our future rule of
the universe rather than a help to it. I will find out what happens when I
reach
“Of
course.”
In
the meantime, Dyre and Gorse were called to their own audience with the
holographic image of the Grand Emperor later that day on the Eritz Gatlantis. They were not looking
forward to this.
“Over
three months ago,” boomed the voice of the mysterious Grand Emperor to a
kneeling Dyre and Gorse while the eerie glowing red eyes leered at them from
out of the darkness. “I believe I ordered you and Invidia to negotiate an
Armistice with the enemy in the Southern Territories to grant you and Us Time
to ensure our conquests in the Southern Regions did not slip from Our Grasp and
to ensure us ease in a future strike south.”
“We
negotiated, Sire,” said Dyre as he sweated. “But, sir, the enemy did not
negotiate in good faith. They attacked us at the very table of negotiations.
They…”
“Silence.
I did not look much upon the typical propaganda video you edited to make them
look like the barbarians. I had sources in your House who are true patriots to
the Throne and our glorious cause who have sent me raw video of what truly
happened. I am convinced you are lying, and that you caused the disaster at
Melezart yourselves. In fact, I begin to become convinced our enemies have more
honor than you led me to believe.”
“Sir,
we stand up against those charges!” snapped Gorse as he stood. “I would plead
against them in appeal before your face!”
“Did
I give you leave to get up?” roared the Grand Emperor.
“NO,
but…”
“THEN
DOWN ON YOUR FACE!” roared the Emperor. “You will have a chance, Gorse, to speak before me. In person. I command you to
bring a Fleet to
“She
is, sire,” said Dyre.
“Then,
I will grant her time to recover,” said the Grand Emperor as he narrowed his
red eyes. “By the time she is recovered, Gorse, I will send you back to the Eritz Gatlantis with the results of the
Inquest. You will then have time to take action, before…”
“Before
what?” snapped Dyre.
“Before
events tumble out of your control,”
hissed the Grand Emperor as he slowly faded from view. “Remember, Dyre, Our
Patience is not infinite…and remember, Prince Fallen of House Kolog has a long
feud with House Gatlantis that goes back to the days when Zordar’s grandsire
still ruled, when you were young. I pray we do not have to remind old Prince
Fallen of his dislike of your clan. He is insulted enough already ever since
Invidia dared to plead with him for troops and ships. I hope that he does not
grow further insulted with your House and how you stood in his way with his own
plan for a Strike South…”
At
that, the Grand Emperor faded away.
“Prince
Fallen is an old enemy,” said Gorse. “Almost as fanatical and vicious as his
friend Radnar.”
“One
reason Zordar exiled Radnar was that he suspected that Radnar and Fallen were
plotting some kind of game at long distance,” said Dyre. “House Kolog is one of
the oldest and most respected Houses. It was second only to us in the glory and
esteem of the Imperial House. I don’t like the idea that the Emperor might be
turning him against us…”
“If
that is so,” said Gorse. “None of our heads are safe.”
“No,”
said the Grand Emperor as Savela brought him a drink. “Their heads are not
safe.”
“Lord?”
“We
accepted Radnar’s request for an Inquest on Invidia’s future rule because of
what happened at Melezart. The glorious Empire took a great loss from the
“Are
we giving up with them? Letting them insult us?”
“No,
trying to stop this. If we stop Invidia, and if we can lull our enemies to
sleep….you know we can attack again someday at a more opportune time. And if
this mad declaration of Zordar’s ever comes true and we have Desslok in our
pocket…so goes the rest of the
“And
then?”
“Then,
our will can be exerted, and we can draw them, slowly, so slowly, into our net.
But Invidia must be stopped first. Somehow. She is far too dangerous to Us to
be allowed to live.”
III. NEW ATTACKS
The Earth Fleet
The Edge of the Milky
Way Galaxy
Friday, October 24, 2206
1100 Hours: Earthtime
Commanding
General Hiram Singleton was sitting in the communications room on the
“Parliament
just finished debate on the no-confidence vote today,” he said. “The final vote
just came down. Kopechne has been voted out; he leaves office as Prime Minister
on the 31st. I have already met with the new Prime Minister they appointed
and I have asked him to form a new government.”
“And
they appointed…?”
“Hiram,
they appointed Doctor Gonjin as the new Prime Minister, as we expected.
However, we are slowly releasing news of the Battle of Melezart to the public.
It is possible that I might just survive re-election because of the valor of
both of our Star Force units.”
“Second
Fleet fought hard, too,” said Singleton as he gritted his teeth. “They took
many losses. I am bringing them back decimated, sir.”
“We
have also received word that the Wars of Unification have started again,” said
the President.
“What?” snapped Singleton.
The
Commander sat in angry disbelief as the President told him about the
Josiahites, the destruction of cities in
Finally,
Singleton took a deep breath and said, “How
did they get their hands on atomic weapons?”
“We
are still trying to find out. Stone has units working on…”
“Damn
Stone,” snapped Singleton. “I’ve been away too long. I need to get home ASAP.
We need to find their units and bases and attack them from orbit. I may have to
assume personal command of the attack fleet.”
“Just
like the Battle of Lake Victoria?” said the President.
“Yes,”
sighed Singleton.
“Also,
there is other bad news. Our patrol fleets at Sirius and Procyon have been
attacked again in the past day. It is the Comet Empire…striking back.”
Singleton
took a deep breath. “The Argo and the
“That
is, if I am even re-elected, General. The opposition candidates have been
talking about changes at the top in the Defense Council and the EDF.”
The
Commander sighed. “I’ve been thinking about that, sir. I don’t like the idea of
being relieved in the middle of a war…”
“Yet,
who knows what the new people at the top might do…if I lose?”
“Yes,
who knows?”
Later
on, Singleton sat on the bridge of the Westphalia
at a vacant position with his eyes closed and his mind deep in thought as he
thought hard, and remembered a time when he had been in actual command of a
space warship…dark times…times when he had been younger…much younger, and war
had raged again on Earth….
THE PAST…
THE
(The
Friday, July 16, 2179….
Captain Hiram
Singleton had been twenty-eight years old in this battle, along with his old
Academy classmate and First Officer, Lieutenant Commander Abraham Avatar, who
was at Weapons Control in his helmet and United Nations Space Defense Forces
uniform. Avatar, at this time, was just beginning to grow his famous beard,
which was black in those days. Another Academy classmate, a JAG officer named
Lieutenant Karl Forrester, had been called up and was serving as Communications
Officer and translator on this new space battleship. Singleton and Avatar were
both twenty-eight, while Forrester was just twenty-seven.
From
engineering, the ship’s thirty-six year old engineer, Lieutenant Commander
Patrick J. Orion, said, “Captain, the reactor is functioning well. Fusion power
is up to the max of what I can give ‘ye.”
“Good job,
Orion,” said Singleton as the
“Report
indicates no alien vessels,” said Lieutenant Daniel Parker, the ship’s radar
officer, after he adjusted his helmet.
“Good. We
don’t need trouble from those Gamilons out at the edge of the solar system
today,” said Captain Singleton. “We’re having enough trouble from our own race
from those rebel Tanzanians. Radar! Distance to that enemy base we will be
bombarding from orbit!”
“Altitude,
two hundred kilometers, actual distance, five hundred kilometers as the crow
flies,” said Parker. “Our other two battleships and ten missile ships are
behind us.”
“Helm, hold
course,” said Singleton as the bridge lights dimmed and a few blinking lights
lit up his navy blue peacoat while he adjusted his naval cap.
“Helm steady
as she goes, aye, sir,” said Lieutenant Hiroshi Ooka, the ship’s Navigation
officer.
“Message
detected from the enemy!” said Forrester.
“Translate
it,” snapped Avatar in his rough voice.
“Working on
AI translation now; it is in Tanazaian,” said Forrester as he stroked his
mustache. “It says the following: Totalitarian
servants of the running dogs of the West! How dare you descend from orbit to
crush those of us who are poor native indigenous peoples? Even if you win
today, we swear that, someday, someday soon, we shall have our vengeance on you
capitalists and your masters of the bourgeosie. Signed, Praxis the First, Chief
Commissar of the Revolution! What do we send back, sir?”
“Tell them
they’re idiots,” snapped Singleton.
“Sir?” said
Forrester.
“I said,
IDIOTS!” barked back Singleton.
I like that, thought Avatar as he smiled to himself.
I’ll have to remember that someday, sir.
Damn these neo-Communists. This is the worst they’ve ever been.
A moment
later, while Forrester sent their response, Parker yelled, “Missiles
approaching! Range, four hundred kilometers, speed, twelve space knots….impact
in twenty seconds…”
“Fleet, take
evasive action!” barked Singleton. “Then, bombard location missiles launched
from!”
The missiles
sped in, impacting upon and blowing up the missile ships Samurai and Mau Mau. The
other missile ships retaliated, firing missiles towards the Separatist base in
Nansio in
A moment
later, as the fleet cruised in over
“Launch
planes!” barked Singleton. “They have to be stopped!”
“Preparing to
launch fighters,” replied Avatar.
The United
Nations Space Defense fighters roared out of the bays of the three space
battleships as an enemy plane broke course, and kamikazed right into the keel
of the space battleship
“One
battleship lost,” snapped Parker in an emotionless voice.
“Range to
Nansio, sixty kilometers,” said Avatar. “They’re in our sights!”
“Lock on
turrets and return fire!”
“Turrets
locking onto target, the main fighter base,” said Avatar. “Power to turrets
ready.”
“Open fire,”
said Singleton.
“FIRE!”
barked Avatar. He squeezed his firing pickle as the battleship’s turrets went
off, blasting deadly white energy into the city of
And, so, the
battle went, thought Singleton as he opened his eyes. We sent in twelve ships. Only three got out
of there. But we finally got the enemy, even though the survivors spent the
next five years accusing us of genocide. And no one knows whatever became of
that Praxis…but, at least, that day, it was the decisive battle of the war…our
war…the last war between nations fought on Earth…until now. My God, what is
happening to us?
On
Earth, in the nearly abandoned city of Phongsali, in the jungles of Laos, a
very old mahogany-skinned man with white dreadlocks sat across a battered desk
from a younger white man.
“Brother
Samuel,” said the old man. “I have been with you for years. Amazing that your
cult accepted my surviving Separatists, given your old beliefs…”
“Brother
Praxis, we can change and adapt, just like a virus,” said Brother Samuel. “I
never thought I would have accepted my mad mother’s beliefs, but now, at last,
I have finally seen she was a Prophetess. And word has it she still lives, in
some form.”
“That
is why I think,” said the old African, who was really known as Mgumbe Mlowo,
“that you should take over my post, Brother Josiah. Long it has been since you
defected from the EDF….”
“I
never really defected. When my term of enlistment ran out, I just never
re-enlisted. Wildstar tried to talk me into re-upping, along with that
Southerner American Hardy and even my cousin Nova pleaded with me to stay. I
gave them lame excuses for wanting to leave. How could I have told them that I
was concluding that maybe my dead mother was right? That maybe she abused me
for a good reason? That reason being to teach me the true ways of
righteousness?”
“Experience
is a hard teacher,” said Praxis as he tossed Josiah an automatic pistol. “Now,
kill me, Josiah.”
“You?”
said Samuel.
“The
only way you will become the next Praxis is by shedding my blood, just like I
did with my predecessor when he was wounded at
Samuel
nodded, stood, released the safety on the Smith and Wesson automatic, and aimed
it at Praxis as the old man shut his eyes.
Samuel
Josiah fired, one, two, three times….
Little
flowers of blood appeared at the chest of the white daishiki that old Mlowo had
been wearing. “Thank you, Praxis the Third,” said the old man as he smiled, and
then died.
“Now,
I have much to do,” said Samuel as men ran in and saluted him as their new
Leader. “And I have to plan our vengeance…I have plans in mind…great plans…”
Later on that
day, Singleton sent orders to the Argo
and the
“Commodore
Wildstar, Captain Venture,” he said as he addressed the gathered bridge crews of
both ships, who were on their First Bridges looking at him on their main video
panels as his voice was transmitted throughout their ships through the
intership intercom systems. “I have told both of you about the new attacks at
Sirius and Procyon. Since your vessels are still deployed, I am, therefore,
ordering the Argo to Procyon to
resume patrol duties there, and I am also ordering the
“No, sir,” said Wildstar and Venture
together as one aboard their respective commands.
“Very
well,” said Singleton. “It is now eighteen hundred hours. You will part ways at
twenty hundred hours when my fleet leaves. Good luck to both of you in your
tasks.”
Singleton’s
image disappeared a moment later. “All right, everyone,” said Wildstar aboard
his ship. “We have a job to do, and you know what we have to do to make it
happen. I want every station checked and rechecked. I want this ship ready for
a space warp at twenty hundred. Sandor, you have the conn. I have some work to
do before we leave.”
“Yessir,”
said Sandor as he saluted and Derek returned the salute.
In
the Argo’s VIP quarters, after
getting his peacoat and ascot from his cabin, Wildstar went down to visit Astra
of Iscandar, who was packing to leave at last.
She
greeted him with a formal hug and said, “I’m so sorry that the negotiations
didn’t go better, Derek Wildstar.”
“They
weren’t here to negotiate in good faith, Astra. I think you know that by now.”
“Yes,”
she said with a sad nod. “I called you down here to say that I am sorry that I
let my wishes for peace overwhelm my good judgment. Something didn’t feel right
about this all along. And I’m so sorry about Nova,” she said with a sniff. “I
was just down to visit with her in the long-term sleep room. She seems to be
sleeping very peacefully in her tube.”
“Yes…she
is,” sighed Derek. “This deployment will bother her the
least of all of us….and we will do our best to keep her and our children safe.
By the way, how are Conor and Jonathan?”
“My
husband is fine, even though he has sent to me that he is a bit bored back on
Earth in the Embassy,” smiled Astra. “Jonathan, our son, and your godchild, is
doing well enough. He’s thirteen now, and getting more interested in girls,”
she said with a smile. “He wants to go to the
“What
do you think of the idea?”
“Derek,
Conor loves the idea. I…am opposed to it,” she sighed. “For now, we are taking
our time on the decision.” Then, as an afterthought, Astra remembered something
and opened a small bag. “The…Gamilons…gave these to me before they left,” she
said as she fingered two small dark green boxes with the Gamilon seal stamped
on the top in gold leaf. “The one on top is for Nova. The second one is for a
Mister Deke Wakefield, Lieutenant,” she said. “They’re from Desslok. Brrr….he still gives me the
creeps.”
“Why
did you delay with these?” said Derek. “Nova might have liked to see what Desslok
gave her before she passed into sleep.”
“I
am sorry,” she said. “The Gamilons only gave me these after Nova had already
passed into her sleep. At least hers will be something that Nova can wake up
to. As for
“I’ll
have to summon him to the ship. Aliscea also wanted to see me before they left.
I’ll see them both. Also, your father sends his love and wishes you good luck
on your cruise back home to Earth. It is still dangerous out there, Astra.”
“I…I
am sure I will be well-protected,” said the young half-Iscandarian as she
hugged Wildstar again. “I will also want to see Sasha again at the Embassy. Do
you have any letters to give her?”
Derek
nodded and pulled an envelope out from the inner pocket of his peacoat. It was
addressed to “Sasha Petrovsky” in his handwriting in case anyone saw it but it
was sealed with both wax seals as well as with the normal glue on the
envelope’s flap. “I wrote her this just last night. Please tell her that our
e-mail will be a bit restricted for a while because of the deployment. She’ll
understand.”
Astra
nodded. Then, she quietly said, “Goodbye, Commodore Wildstar,” and then turned
away with an elegant sweep of her dress as Derek left.
They
would not see each other again for a long time.
A
while later, as Deke Wakefield flew his fighter in his uniform and flight
jacket in a short hop towards the Argo, he spoke with Aliscea Rosstowski, who was in the
second place of his plane behind him in the cockpit. “I wonder what Wildstar
wants,” he said.
“I
have no idea why he needs to speak to you, but I know why I must speak with
him,” said the young Pellian as she sat there in her uniform and helmet
watching the necessary screens as she acted as his temporary RSO. “I owe him an
explanation and an apology for why I could not heal Nova and the children that
day. I want to tell him this before we part ways.”
“You’ve
told me already,” said Deke with a sigh. “You said you were protecting all of
us from that damn ghost of Ekogaru and your powers were drained doing that.
He’ll understand. I’m the one who messed up and let it happen.”
“Are
you still blaming yourself?” snapped Aliscea. “She told you not to. I told you not to.”
“I
can’t help doing it,” sighed
Aliscea
sat in silence. Then, Mrs Rosstowski said, “Maybe talking with Wildstar will
help you?”
“Maybe
it will,” sighed Deke.
A
short while later, after landing back on the Argo,
“Aliscea, you told me this yourself the same
day after it happened,” said Wildstar as he raised his head. “There’s no need
to torture yourself with guilt over this. It
just…happened..” he sighed. “Nova is in good hands
now, and she is perfectly safe until we get home. I miss her, but this is the
best thing for right now. Go with a clear heart.”
“Thank
you, sir,” said Aliscea with a quiet smile.
“
“The
Gamilons, sir?” said Deke.
“Yes.
They said something about it the day everything happened. However, the battle
and everything that happened with Nova made me a bit…muddled…shall we say? You
remember that day I was saying that was the worst day for me since my brother
Alex died? I meant to say ‘that was the worst day for me ever since I learned
that I thought Alex had died’…that was when Nova and I found Alex’s astro-automatic
and the wreck of the Paladin on
Saturn-Titan. But…anyway…open that.”
Deke
did so. He was shocked to find a Gamilon medal in the box, made of some silver
metal, lying on its black and scarlet ribbon on a dark green velvet-like
background. In the lid of the presentation box was a piece of fine, creamy
paper. “There’s a note in there, sir…probably in Gamilon, if it can be
translated….”
“Open
the note,” said Aliscea. “You might be surprised. My senses tell me it is a
note to you from Leader Desslok.”
“Desslok?”
said
“The
man has changed somewhat over the years,” said Wildstar. “Read the note out
loud,
“Yessir,”
said
“To Lieutenant
Deke Wakefield of the Crew of the Earth Space Battleship
From the
Gamilon Throne,
Mister
Wakefield:
I write in
haste, hoping I could have presented this to you in person. Sadly, this was not
possible, owing to damage that my flagship suffered in the recent battle we
have all been through at Melezart.
I write to
tell you that your actions in helping me save the life of your injured comrade,
Nova Wildstar, and in protecting her and getting her safely back to your ship
have earned you an honored place in the memory of the Empire. I awarded her a
decoration for saving my life. I cannot do any less for you. Therefore, please
accept this medal, the Gamilon “Liebstandart”, or “Life Standard” in your
tongue, in memory of your bravery that day as a Hero of the Empire. Even though
we were once enemies, I have seen to it that your name and Nova’s have both
been inscribed in the book of honor we keep of all Gamilons and outlanders who
have rendered faithful service to me and to the Empire.
You are an
outstanding young man, and I pray that you have further success in your
military career.
With fond
wishes,
DESSLOK,
Leader of the Gamilons, Emperor of the Garuman People, Prince-Consort of the
Pellians, Protector of Baldonia, Ally of Earth, etc.”
“What
do you think?” said Aliscea.
“Damn…I
don’t know what to say,” said Deke, whose heart was full of emotions. I don’t know what Mom and Dad would think of
this…getting decorated by the same man who killed them… he thought. I guess this makes me some kind of high
mucky-muck amongst the Gamilons or something like that…weird as hell.
“It’s
hard to figure out, isn’t it?” said Wildstar, as if he knew what Deke was
thinking as he looked over the medal. “Honor from the same people who were once
trying to wipe us out.”
“Sir?”
“They
decorated me twice, too. It’s an
honor. You can wear the campaign ribbon right along with your normal EDF ones
on your dress coat,
“Who else?”
“Myself, Nova, Venture, and Paul
Rosstowski, and Captain Avatar, posthumously, of course, for the old Captain. If it helps,
Desslok has promised us our names will be inscribed on a plaque somewhere in
his capital someday.”
“Nice
note,” said Deke. “If he really wrote it…”
Wildstar
looked at it. “It’s authentic. I recognize the man’s handwriting. Your note
alone must be worth at least one hundred thousand credits in itself to a
collector…Desslok’s an interesting but very strange man. He was even sending us
notes of congratulations when he was trying to blow us up back in 2199.”
Then,
Aliscea turned to him and said, “I’ve heard far worse about him. Even I don’t
know what to make of him at times, even though he is one of my liege-lords and my stepfather. I’d rather call him ‘father’ than that damned Gralnacz
who turned to Ekogaru, that is for sure. Remember that
my own father defected and turned evil before he died. But Desslok is a very
unusual man. And it’s a good thing he’s on our
side now.”
“Yeah,”
said Deke. “It is.”
Later
on, aboard the
“What
did the Gamilons give ya that medal for, Sticks?”
“Helping Desslok save Nova. The same sort
of thing I’m suppposed to be getting that Navy Cross for once it clears the
bureaucracy at Headquarters.”
“Pretty
slick, man,” said Brew as he looked at the medal in its box as
“Yeah. More months of fighting ahead. You think the Comet Empire
might have gotten the idea to give up after Melezart, but…”
“ATTENTION,
ALL HANDS!” said Venture’s voice over the intercom. “We are set to warp to our
new station at Sirius in fifteen minutes at twenty hundred sharp. All hands
make preparations for a space warp and then head to your warp stations! This
will involve continuous warp conditions, and it will be a long one.”
“Well,
so ends another chapter of our lives,” said Brew as he and
They
arrived on time, and, soon, they were strapped into their assigned seats with
the rest of the squadron, with Conroy nodding at their preparations in their
seats as the sounds of the ship preparing itself to
warp resounded all around them.
Soon,
the final countdown came, and Deke and Brew tensed up for the space warp. When
Holly Venture counted down “ZERO!” on the intercom, the
The
Argo warped out a moment later as the
Commander stood on the bridge of the
“Yessir,”
said Walsh.
“And,
so it ends,” said Singleton to himself as the rest of Second Fleet prepared to
leave. “We are going home…”
IV. INQUEST!
The Andromeda Galaxy
Imperial Center/Great
Andromeda
Friday, November 7, 2206
1400 Hours: Earthtime
The
Great Homeworld of the Comet Empire was an incredibly bleak place.
There
was no greenery of any sort left on Great Andromeda, except for a few small
domed parks accessible only by the nobles. There were no wild animals, and
there were no forests, oceans, or deserts left. The entire surface of the
Earth-sized world was covered with one vast artificial city, a city with both high towers and deep underground passages, caverns, and
dungeons. The light of the world’s sun was seldom seen since both climate and
the pollution of the Empire’s many slave-run factories, shipyards, smelters,
and mines created a gloomy, almost perpetual pall of slate-grey clouds and fog
that blew over the city-world’s surface.
The
whole planet looked like a Cometine city-ship, and, in fact, it was slowly
being turned into one. It was hoped that in the future that the very energies
of the planet’s volcanic cores could be tapped and harnessed to turn this
mutating obscenity of a world into a spacegoing fortress itself that would
traverse the territories of the Empire and its conquests much like Ekogaru’s
Fortress had done, with this difference; the scientists of the Empire were
developing a mad plan to cover this planet with a truly colossal Comet Field, a
field that would be strong enough to devour stars in a few minutes. They had
heard of Ekogaru’s legendary Grand Fortress and came up with the idea that,
someday, the Cometines would do far better than even that mad engineer had
done.
It
was felt that the launching of the Great Comet would take place in maybe a
hundred Imperial Years. Until then, the Emperor was plotting to secure the many
conquests of his Princes, Princesses, and other nobles and to build the Empire
into a force that would act as second to none in controlling the whole
universe.
General
Gorse found himself very humbled by this might as his
small-looking fleet of ten ships went into orbit around Great Andromeda. Even
some minor Prince’s Dreadnought, lifting off at high speed on an errand for the
Emperor, looked very small as it ascended from the planet and roared off into
orbit.
“Gatlantean
House Fleet,” said an officious-sounding controller on the bridge speakers of
Gorse’s flagship, the Cometine space battleship Vygas. “Hold to your pre-arranged course and make landing at the
docks connected to your House Castle Complex near the equator. You will not deviate from your approved course,
General Gorse.”
“Understood,”
said Gorse as he nodded, watching as a cloud of Scorpion gunboats in navy blue
and white surrounded his fleet. “Helm, hold to our course.”
“Yes,
sire,” said Gorse’s helmsman as Gorse stood with his arms crossed over his
chest.
The
city-world grew larger in their windows as Gorse wondered what would happen
today.
A
few hours later, Gorse felt very small as he stood in a vast, almost dark
courtroom in the huge
An
elderly bearded judge sat behind a high bench, while, in the darkness behind
him, the Grand Emperor himself sat watching the proceedings on a high throne on
a very high dais.
Behind
a table stood General Radnar, who looked and sounded utterly fanatical as he
snapped, “And what were Invidia’s
reasons, Gorse, for committing lese
majeste against the Throne?”
“We
did not do so on purpose, Radnar,” replied Gorse as he looked to his left to
the usual defendant’s cage; the glassteel booth stood signficantly empty, but
he knew that if Invidia had been able to travel, she would have been the one
sitting in the clear cage. “The Emperor was not there to analyze the full
situation. Not even he could predict that the Gamilons would have attacked us
and that the Terran woman Nova Wildstar would have tried to kill the Princess
herself by throwing a dagger at her. What a barbarian!”
“Actually,
the woman’s deed sounds almost admirable,” said Radnar with an evil grin as he
stroked his beard and smiled at the fat, bald figure of Prince Fallen, who sat
grinning next to him at the curved prosecution table. “The video that you have
shown me proved that she was a very resourceful little barbarian. And it is
amazing that the Gamilons and Earthlings have conspired to keep her alive. Such
feats on the part of the Earthers are why Zordar wanted them to become a jewel
in the Empire’s crown to begin with.”
“The
Earthlings deserve nothing but extermination for their rebellion!” snapped
Gorse.
“Maybe
they deserve to live,” purred Radnar. “They could still be useful. Especially since they have managed to resist us for so long.
Now, let me go over Desslok’s claim to the Throne of House Gatlantis…”