ALTERNATE TALES OF THE STAR FORCE

STAR BLAZERS---THE POTEMKIN VILLAGE

Being the sixth part of THE RIKASHA INCIDENT--- BY: Frederick P. Kopetz


ACT FIVE--SIGNIFICANT CONVERSATIONS


I. NOT A NICE LUNCH

Planet Earth

New York Megalopolis

Tuesday, January 19, 2202

1248 Hours Spacetime


"A toast…to myself," murmured Lieutenant Denise Carroway to herself with a smile. "And my success in being appointed as the Captain of the new Valkyrie."

Denise smiled, and drank her cup of coffee…alone. A second cup sat across the table from her, untouched. Jeff's late again, thought Carroway in a mood that suddenly turned irritable. She stirred her coffee again, and sat looking around the Starlight Café, one of the nicer places in the Megalopolis. It was a popular hangout for young couples, and even with the Star Force in space, the paparazzi kept the place staked out through contacts because it was known to be one of the Wildstars' favorite lunch spots.

However, Carroway was getting a few looks of her own. Not many people had seen a woman in both a navy blue peacoat and white ascot before; these were the traditional accoutrements of an EDF Captain.

"Congratulations, Captain!" someone called out. "We heard the story on the news this morning."

"Thank you!" said Carroway, who raised her cup of coffee to the anonymous male in salute. "At least someone is celebrating!"

Finally, after a long wait, her boyfriend Jeff Sohn arrived, wearing a white turtleneck, dark pants, and Cuban-style boots.

"Nice outfit," he said to Denise. "Got a skirt on?"

"Bellbottoms," snapped Denise. "Standard EDF uniform slacks. You know."

"Aren't those guys' pants? Don't you women wear those tight things?"

"I don't; not now," said Carroway. "Do you think I'd be respected on my bridge wearing one of those leotards? Maybe some females could get away with it, but I can't see myself commanding a ship of this Fleet in a bloody Danskin. How would my crew respect me in the getup they make us wear? It's just my personal choice. Rank hath its privileges."

"Ship of the Fleet…don't you only have a patrol boat?"

"Jeff, it's a ship that I happen to be very happy about," snapped Denise. "I have a crew, and I'm the Captain, even though I only have the rank of Lieutenant."

"That's a good one…how'd you manage that?"

"I was given this command by the Commanding General," said Carroway hotly. "Anyone commanding a ship, no matter what their actual rank, is considered the Captain, Skipper, or Old Man of their vessel."

"I don't see you as being either old or a man," teased Jeff. "Where's your bushy beard?"

"Jeff, please…you're acting like a child," snapped Denise. "This is serious. Show me some respect, or I'll eat lunch and celebrate by myself."

"Yes, ma'am," he said with a grin. "You know, you do look cute in that coat."

"I'm not supposed to look cute, I'm supposed to look authoritative," said Denise. "Now, what do you want for lunch? If you can bear to sit with me and act like an adult, that is."

"Uhh," said Jeff as he scanned the menu. "French dip beef sandwich and fries. What about you?"

"Teriyaki salmon and rice, my usual…" she said. "And more coffee for both of us." The waitress came a moment later and took their orders. Carroway made sure she asked for chopsticks to go with her Japanese lunch.

Jeff looked around conspiratorially. "I've got something to show you, Denise. Would you like to see it?"

"What is it?" joked Denise. "A can with a furry spring-loaded snake in it? Please," she said with a smile. "I don't know why you guys think it's funny to scare your significant others like that."

"No, it's something better," said Jeff. "Even though with the way you're sounding today, it might just scare you."

"Okay, let's see it," sighed Denise.

"Thought this would give us something else to celebrate today," said Jeff. He pulled a small box out of his pocket and left it on the table. "Open it."

Denise held it up to her ear. "It's not ticking, so it's not a miniature bomb. I hear nothing alive in there, so it's not some small animal, like a mouse."

Carroway shut her eyes and opened the box. A welter of emotions ran across her face as she looked at what was inside; a small, but exquisite, diamond ring.

Their lunch came a moment later. Jeff just watched her, smiling softly. "Does this mean…what I think it means?" asked Carroway.

Jeff nodded. He asked, "Denise…would you marry me?"

Denise looked at the ring. I have a career, she thought. Being married and having an EDF career are not mutually exclusive. Famous people seem to get away with it. But, Jeff's not Fleet. I don't know if he'd understand…I'll be away a lot…there'll be separations…and I'm really devoted to my job…and I'm not quite ready to commit to anyone, yet, let alone Jeff.

"Jeff…I…I…" she said, with her eyes welling up a little. "I'm not sure…"

"You're not sure?"

"I'm not," she said. She bit her lip and said. "We ship out on Friday. If I take this…well…it looks like we might be getting involved in a war soon," she said, with her voice dropping down to a whisper. "Didn't you hear about the attacks on Earth shipping? Didn't you hear about Chicago being wave-gunned?"

"You're not saying no…?"

"I'll say yes, to your ring; you mean well," sighed Denise as Jeff then put the ring on her finger. "But, please understand…I can't commit to a wedding date…not yet, Jeff. Also, if we go through with this…"

"If?"

"Jeff, things…well…things could change…you'll have to understand…you'll be sharing me with a spouse named Valkyrie. I'm very happy, you see, that my potential is being used. We will have to remember that I have a career, Jeff. Please remember that when I come home, when we do get married, I won't be retiring to wear an apron and go barefoot and pregnant for you at the drop of a hat. I still have four years left on my hitch, anyway. Do you understand that?"

"Yes…I do," he said as he ate. "But please, Denise…remember my feelings?"

"I do, silly. Remember, I have a job, and so do you."

"My job's on Earth. Yours could be, too."

Denise glared at Jeff. "Jeff, you and I will spend all of our time together at your place during leave. I'll gladly cook and 'keep house' when I'm home from work, if your seeing me with a vacuum cleaner and a frilly white apron turns you on. But the rest of the time, you do your job; I'll do mine. I'll be in the solar system, so I can call you every damn week if you like."

"But, Denise…I want it different!" he yelled, banging his fist on the table to punctuate his point. Several patrons looked over at them; some even glared at Jeff. With his longish, ponytailed hair, he looked a little deranged. "After this tour…why can't you take a desk job?"

"Jeff, if you want things to be like that, maybe you'd better find someone else to share your life with." Denise then paused and took her ring off and carefully put it back in the box before a shocked Jeff Sohn's eyes. "One of the shortest engagements in history…about…two minutes, I think. I'm sorry, Jeff. I can't go through with this. Not the way you are now. Maybe things can be different if you grow up while I'm away…we can put the relationship on hold until after I'm back." She tossed several credits on the table to cover her bill and the tip. "You pay the bill, Jeff, give the waitress the rest. I'm very sorry, but I have to leave now. I'll try to write you a letter soon. I'll keep in touch."

"Not even a kiss for your Jeffster?" murmured Jeff.

Denise shook her head. "No, Jeff. And I'm sorry. And you can return your data capsule of Baby's Day Out 2200 to the video store, too. I don't want to come over to your place to watch it with you. It sounds like a juvenile movie, anyway."

"Then it's over, isn't it?" he said.

"No. I said it's on hold," replied Denise. "I need time to think. I'll go buy a hoagie at a convenience store. You can have both of our lunches. Good afternoon. "

At that, Denise got up, pushed in her chair, and left Jeff and his engagement ring behind.

He's a child, thought Denise. That's all there is to it; he's a child! Him and his saying my t-shirts and jeans are juvenile… What does he want…someone who wears a miniskirt all the time, 24-7?


"Baron Gernitz, we have just arrived in the Nereid System. Planet Rotella is fifty thousand gerad off the fleet's port bow."

"Excellent, Captain Palsand" said Gernitz. "Days upon days of wasted travel. Insignificant battles with rebels. What, is the whole Comet Empire going crazy? No glory for us, even though we bring over three hundred ships as we resupplied our fleet at our Cometine bases on the way back here. At least the base network still operates. I could have had the objective Zordar built those bases for, if only the Viceroy hadn't cheated me."

"Yes…we could have had Earth."

"Earth, Desslok's head, and scrap metal and slaves from the Argo to present before the Grand Emperor's Viceroy back in Andromeda," said the Cometine commander in a morose voice. "Instead, we were ordered to break off the battle in the early stages, in the midst of giving Earth a new set of trials and tribulations. And, we had to come here…to deal with a foolish rebellion. So ended the second Cometine attempt to take Earth and our effort to avenge Prince Zordar…a stillborn effort. We couldn't even pay respects to our great hero and kinsman Zordar in Earth orbit where he died."

"A grand tragedy, sir," said Palsand.

"Yes. A tragedy," hissed Gernitz.

An anonymous officer knelt before Gernitz. "Lord, a communication from the Forty-Seventh Black Fox Nebula Patrol Fleet flagship Pleades. It seems to be approaching for a rendezvous."

"Who's sending the communication?" demanded Gernitz.

"Major-General Deda, sir."

"Deda? Ahhh…we were once antagonists when Zordar invaded the Black Nebula years ago. After we convinced the Black Nebulans to sign a treaty of friendship and concordance with the Empire, they have been a loyal bunch, for the most part. Deda helped me out back at Petronia, remember, Palsand? Merciless bunch of cyborgs, his people. We could have used them when we attacked Earth. Since the Black Nebula Galactic Group is considered a separate House, albeit a subject one, they could have stayed behind when I was summoned back. Put Deda on, Major."

"Yessir," said another officer.

A bald, blue face with weird blue-on-blue eyes above a white uniform appeared on the main screen of Gernitz's Black Dreadnought. A deep, rough voice said, "It's been a long while, Baron. How goes your leadership of House Gatlantis, the people who convinced us to sign a non-aggression pact between our glorious Empires?"

"It goes well. It could be better, Deda. How goes it with you? What news have you heard lately from Dezarium?'

"None. That leaves me wondering, Gernitz. They have been out of touch for days upon days. Last word said something about a gravitational disturbance rolling through both galactic disks of the Black Nebula; both the Black One and the Galaxy of Light. I was to escort a mining expedition some weeks ago, but we were recalled at the last minute."

"Mining expedition? That sounds like poor duty for you, Deda."

"Our scout ships in the Magellenic Cloud had just discovered two planets in a star system near the edge of the Great Magellenic Cloud. The scout squadron had left, but they told us we could exploit those planets for rare radioactive resources for our energy transmission units. Weird planets, too. Binary planetary group; one orbiting around the other. No one there worth fighting; com-scan said there was a dead military civilization on the bigger world, or its ruins, anyhow, and a few refugees hiding out on the smaller world. We were about to do Baron Meldazz's bidding to take those resources when we received a blip of a communication from him to head back to the Black Nebula. Then, there was silence from the Black Nebula. No answer to any of our hails. Then, the Viceroy called us and ordered us to come here. She refused to tell us what had become of the Black Nebula, or of Dezarium. She said we were to consider our fleet under your provisional command until communications were restored with Lord Skaldart. Did you hear anything?"

"No," said Gernitz thoughtfully. "We have been monitoring the communications of a minor rebel whose race had joined forces with Zordar and then broke the alliance by deciding to become a turncoat and aid Earth."

"Who is this rebel? Have I heard of him?"

"He is named Desslok of Gamilon, Deda. A grand bounty is on his head throughout the whole Empire."

"Ahh…the Gamilon Empire," said Deda with contempt. He laughed as if he knew some secret that Gernitz was unaware of. "You'd love to know what became of them, I'm sure. Or, rather, their homeworld?" Deda laughed again. "I'll tell you some other time. How goes it around Rotella?"

"I have been told the rebels just wiped out a cruiser squadron. I could put my Siege Cannon to good use on the Rotellan Capital today."

"Did the Viceroy give your permission from the Emperor?" asked Deda.

"No, I will therefore exterminate a few million people today anyway," said Gernitz. Both warriors laughed across their comlink.

"You were always good at extermination, Gernitz," said Deda. "Why not bring up an antimatter missile squadron and terminate the planet? Or why not ask for a Gorba Squadron? We'd be happy to kill for you."

"We need the resources the planet provides," said Gernitz. "You will support the rear of my fleet, Deda. Guard it against enemy forces; the rebels got some of our ships. The very ships Zordar left there for their protection."

"I understand, Gernitz. I would love to learn, though, what became of our people."

"I am sure you will learn. In due time. Remember, you serve us."

"Yes," said Deda as dark thoughts ran through his brain. His circuits burned with a bit of rage as he remembered that, as free as they seemed to be, the Black Nebula Empire was still a confederate…and protectorate…of the Grand Cometine Empire.


II. A BULL SESSION

Space Battleship Argo

Aft Observation Deck

Wednesday, January 20, 2202

0427 Hours Spacetime


Commander Mark Venture stood on the Argo's Aft Observation deck at this ungodly hour with his elbows on the simulated wood railing that ran around the inside of the large bubble. He stood there with his chin propped on his hands, watching the stars and the distant Milky Way Galaxy far aft of the Argo. The mighty ship was now 35,000 lightyears out from Earth, and was now closer than ever before to the Octopus Star Group and the nebulae that surrounded it.

By the end of the week, thought Mark, we should be able to get a scan with enough resolution to tell us what's going on around the Octopus Group…and to tell us if we can warp around the black cloud of gas, pass through the channel we used before, or have to explore the whole mess all over again. All this with enemies out there, too; we don’t know if we finished off the Potemkin or not, and we don't know if the Rikashans are after us. Seems familiar, doesn't it? Our journey to Iscandar two years ago…

Behind Venture, the automatic hatch whirred open. He stood to attention when he recognized Wildstar's reflection in the techtite done of the observation deck.

"Hanging out, huh?" said Derek in a smart-alecky voice that didn't match his hangdog expression; in his peacoat, with his hands in his pockets and (uncharacteristically) his Captain's cap on his head, Derek looked about ten years older than his true age.

"Yeah," said Venture with a smirk. "What's it to you, Derek?"

"Aren’t you supposed to be on the bridge? If you break regs, I'll have to have you before me tomorrow morning for Mast like I did with Hartcliffe a day after Paul and Aliscea's wedding. And the guy's still serving his extra duty shifts."

"Oh, yeah?" said Venture. "You'll bust me because I'm up here relaxing. Really."

"I might…unless you wanna fight about it," said Derek. The polished black brim of his hat was down, so Mark couldn't see the twinkle in his eyes.

"All right, let's go…whenever you're game, that is," said Venture. "When are you gonna be man enough to try slugging me again?"

Mark looked at Wildstar. The Captain stood there, as cool as a cucumber, fishing around for something in his pocket.

Venture looked mystified…until he saw the object was a soda can. Derek pushed up his hat and grinned.

"I know you’re not on duty, Mark. I was just kidding around."

Venture laughed. "Hey, Derek, you do look like a Captain with that hat on your head."

"When I was on the bridge before, manning the watch so we could have a little break in the Officer of the Deck schedule, I just put it on while looking back at the plaque. Funny, I feel a bit closer to him tonight, Mark. I could use his advice about now."

"About what?"

"Lots of things," sighed Derek as he exhaled again. Both Derek and Mark leaned on the deck rail, not far from the empty chair which sat there.

"Okay…let me help, Wildstar. What's on your mind?"

"Where's that damn battleship?" he muttered. "We're still repairing that aft turret, even though we do have communications back. Communications that we'll lose in a day once we get out beyond 38,000 lightyears, the maximum range of our subspace communications equipment."

"Wish I knew," said Mark as he looked at his watch. "0435," murmured Venture. "The Colorado Express is late tonight."

"Colorado Express?" said Derek. "We don't have a damn railroad line on this ship, Mark."

"The Express runs at odd hours of the night, Wildstar, and not every night. For the past few nights, here and there, she's been making that run again."

"Who? What?" said Derek.

Venture just chuckled. A moment later, the hatch whirred open again. Light footsteps hit the deck.

Derek looked over his shoulder and turned a little pale. His suspicions were right. Nova was standing there in her gold and black uniform, stifling a yawn. "Good evening, gentlemen," she said.

"The Colorado Express has arrived," smirked Venture.

"Good, Mark…you explained it to him," said Nova with a smile. "Sorry about the occasional wandering, Derek dearest," said Nova. "Just trouble sleeping again. “

"When did you first start doing this?" asked a concerned Derek.

"Night before last," said Nova. "I was wandering around again after I crawled over you that night to take care of some things. Couldn't get back to sleep, and I didn't want to wake you up, so I got dressed and came down here. Thank God, there's Mark. Nice to have someone to talk to when you have insomnia and your husband is asleep."

"Nova, why don't you wake me up when you get like that?" asked Derek.

"Because I know you need your sleep, dear," said Nova as she affectionately patted her husband's cheek.

"The chair, milady," said Mark with a gallant gesture.

"Thanks," said Nova. “Now, let's talk. What's bothering you guys?"

"Almost two years ago, Homer freaked out when his father died before him on the view screen," said Derek. "Remember…he tried to swim home??"

"How can I forget that night??" said Nova with a blush.

At that, Mark raised an eyebrow. He asked, "Nova…were you guys up to something you never told anyone about?"

"No, silly. He…he saw me in a nightgown for the first time that night. And so did you. Remember? " said Nova as her blush deepened.

"Which one…uh…oh…that nightgown?" said Mark. "Derek, wasn't that a beautiful sight?"

Derek nodded and smiled. "Yes…it was."

"Yes…that gown it…it was a bit revealing," said Nova with her eyes turned demurely down towards the deck as she remembered just how revealing it was. "I remember that all too well…you guys looked so shocked," said Nova as she remembered and began smiling a little. "Didn’t you ever see what a woman looked like before?"

Venture just stammered. "Uhhhmmmuhmmm…"

"Nova, you know I did, but…I don't want to talk about it."

"Henson?" asked Venture. "At the space school?"

Derek just nodded glumly. Nova gently put a hand on his cheek and began to caress it. "Uh…I hope I looked better …the first time you ever saw me in…that little."

"Definitely," said Derek. "At least you had some things covered up. Diane, on the other hand…"

The door whizzed open, startling them. They looked around and noticed Diane Henson coming in with some papers. When she noticed who was there, her face immediately twisted into a smirk.

"Well, well, well," she said. "It looks like the Captain opened up a lounge up here. Can I join in?"

"No," said Nova flatly.

"I wasn't asking you," sneered Diane. "I was asking the Captain, hon?" added Henson in a very sarcastic voice.

"Miss Henson," said Derek. "We were discussing ship's business. You don't have a security clearance to hear all of this, so could you please leave before I have to make it an official order?"

"I was listening through the hatch," said Diane. "I believe, sir, you were comparing my lingerie to the lingerie of Miss Forrester?"

"That's Mrs. Wildstar, to you," said Nova. "If you need to see my marriage certificate to call me by my legal name, I'll gladly go up to our cabin and get it for you," she huffed.

"No, stay here," whispered Derek in Nova's ear.

"Hmh?" whispered Nova.

"If she's going to razz you, she's going to razz me, too." said Derek. "We're in this together. We're a family now."

Nova just nodded. She quickly wiped away the tears welling at her eyes before Henson could see them. Then,  she grabbed Derek's hands and made sure they were both facing Henson.

"Go away, Lieutenant Henson," said Nova. "With that look on your face, I'm about a second away from ordering you to get out of here. "

"Let's see you try it!" snapped Diane.

"Henson, I do outrank you, as a Senior Grade Lieutenant and a Group Leader," said Nova quickly before Derek could interject anything.

"Oh, too bad, honey. We could have had a great discussion about sleepwear," said Diane in a sarcastically sweet voice. "Commander Venture, sir…would you like to have some late-night space java with me?" said Diane as she sidled up to Venture and affectionately brushed his cheek. "We can leave this deck to our teenage newlyweds."

"No!" snapped Mark. "I wouldn't go out with you if you were the only woman on this ship!"

"Henson, because you aren't showing your fellow officers any respect, you're under orders to leave this space," snapped Derek. "Now."

She just glared at Derek for a moment. Then, she turned to Venture. "Too bad what marriage does to some people," she snorted. "Especially when they marry the little old flat-chested girl next door type." Before Derek or Nova could react, Diane sidled over to the hatch and began to step out. "Bye, Captain!" she sang. "I hope I'm in your dreams tonight!"

"Henson," snapped Derek. "If you're not out of here in ten seconds, you're on report!"

Nova thought, strictly to herself, Diane, if you're not out of here in ten seconds and keep up those comments, I just might belt you!

"Aye, aye, sir!" Diane blew Derek a kiss.

"Henson, you're on report," snapped Wildstar. "Get up to my cabin at 0930 tomorrow morning. Got it?"

"Yessir," she said with a grin. Then she stepped backwards through the hatch with a smart salute to her chest. She was gone a moment later.

"Flat-chested," said Nova in a shaky voice. "I'll show her flat-chested," she said peevishly. "Horrible smell in here. Does she practice regular feminine hygiene?"

Both Derek and Mark broke out laughing like crazy. "That's a good one, Nova!" snorted Derek through loud chuckles. "You did it again! All you've been doing the past few days is cracking me up!"

"I think we have someone here for stand-up comics' night!" snorted Mark. "Nova, I thought you were so nice."

"Oh, I am. With people who don't deliberately insult me, that is," said Nova. She puffed out her chest a little and looked down at it. "Uhh…guys…I never asked you this before…but, I guess…we're all close enough to discuss this…uhh…do I really look too small?"

"Nova…you look just right," said Derek. "Doesn't she, Mark?"

Venture just smiled and nodded. "You don't look half bad in that bodice, tights and boots. In fact…you…uh…you look great. You wear that uniform well, Nova."

"Thanks," she snorted with a little smile. "Least it's good for something," she said with a smile as she leaned back on the rail and put a leg out.

Mark added, "Guys, can I make a comment without being disrespectful? It's meant to be between us."

"Go ahead," said Derek. "Between the three of us, of course."

Mark sighed and said, "This'll sound terrible, but…didn't you two ever notice that, topside, uhh..," said Mark pointing to his chest.

"Henson sort of looks like she was blown up with an air pump?" said Nova. "Derek, I'm not sure what you ever saw in her."

"I'm not sure, either," he mused. "She's got a cute face, but…"

"An ugly soul," added Nova.

"Nova, you look waaaay better than she does," said Derek, sidling up to her and winking.

"I may look mundane compared to her, but…"

Mark smiled and said, "And, as…uh…the Captain can surely attest…you look even better in whatever kind of negligee you're in…or whatever you wore on your wedding night with Derek," said Venture with a deep blush of his own. "Hope I'm not getting too personal…Was it that one, Nova?"

"No…it…wasn't that particular negligee," said Nova. "It was too…warm…for it on the island that night. I'm sure you can guess what I mean, and…that's all I'm going to say about what I wore on my wedding night. Mark. I…oh, why am I even telling you this?"

"Funny things can happen during breaks," smiled Derek.

"Stop calling me that, I've never liked that name they pinned on me on the way to Iscandar." muttered Nova. She looked over and saw Mark smiling. "Are you laughing at me, Amsterdam?"

"No, Boulder, I'm just smiling," said Venture. Sometimes they called themselves by the names of the birth cities as nicknames of a sort.

"You and Space Cowboy here had better stop it, or I'll bop both of you," teased Nova as she shook a fist.

"Wildstar, turn your head," said Mark.

"Why?"

"I want to say something to your spouse," said Mark.

"Yes, Mark?" sang Nova.

"Just a compliment," said Venture. He whispered, in a sing-song voice, "You look cute in a negligee."

Nova blushed again. Then, she playfully punched Mark in the forearm.

"Ow!" said Mark. "That hurt!"

"Good," said Nova. "Now I've hit both of you delinquents up here." she said with a giggle.

Venture looked at Wildstar with a look as if to say, What the hell is she talking about?

"Mark…don't ask," said Derek. "It was when we were near Iscandar…"

"Our first date," said Nova. "It was cute but don't ask."

"Huh?"

"He got a bit too frisky," said Nova with a smile. "Enough said."

"Funny how cycles go," mused Derek. "On our way to Iscandar again. Too bad we aren't on Iscandar, yet, Mark," said Derek with a smirk.

"Yeah…too bad we aren't around that hill beyond the 'cats'," added Mark.

"You guys are not going to waylay me there behind a gravestone and tickle me half to death like you did halfway through that month on Iscandar," said Nova.

"What's to stop us? We're way bigger than you," teased Derek.

"You know, Derek. That aikido and judo practice you've been putting me through. If anyone tries kidnapping me again, they'll regret it. Heeeyahhh!" cried Nova as she kicked the rail hard.

Both Derek and Mark jumped. Nova giggled at their reaction behind her free hand as she stabilized her chair again on two legs while she leaned back, with her feet locked against the railing by her boot heels. "Good. I woke you up," she said. "Good thing…so far from home. How far again, Mark?"

"Thirty-five thousand lightyears as of tonight. We’ve been warping kind of carefully ever since that battle the other night; and Aliscea's warning."

"Aliscea," said Derek as he put his hand on Nova's shoulder. "Odd…she's like you…but weird."

"That must mean I'm normal," teased Nova. "Funny…you told me I was weird two nights ago."

"Every smart person on this ship is sorta weird," said Venture. "You, Sandor, Doctor Sane, and Royster. All smart…all weird."

"Is that an insult or a compliment?" said Nova slowly while she put down her feet and let the chair sit on all of its four tripod-style legs again. Derek and Mark took the cue and knelt down together on the deck to continue their conversation at close range, with Derek at his wife's left and Mark at Nova's right. Nova looked at Mark with a quizzical expression, and he just shrugged.

"Derek, I give you permission to beat him up," teased Nova.

"Not now…not someone who loans me pens and stuff," said Derek as he grabbed Mark's hand over Nova's lap.

"And not someone who loaned me five credits the other day," said Venture as he clasped Derek's hand.

"Okay…two guys who'll sit with a weird blond flat-chested…"

"Nova, don't say that!" cried Derek.

"…insomniac at nearly 0500 aren't bad," yawned Nova as she clasped both of their hands with her left hand. "Derek, you…in one way as the only true love of my life…Mark, you in another, as a dear friend…like the brother I never had… I love both you guys," said Nova affectionately.

"Thanks for the compliment," smiled Derek as he cuddled his head in close to Nova's neck and left shoulder. Nova kissed him softly, and pulled Mark into their hug with her right hand. Nova didn't kiss Mark, but, instead, affectionately mussed up some of the dark hair at the top of his head.

Then, the three of them went quiet and unselfconsciously snuggled as they watched the stars. Only among these three close friends did the contact not seem strange.

"So, what do we have to do to commemorate this night?" asked Mark.

"Become blood brothers and …sisters?" teased Derek.

"Silly…we already are," said Nova.

They again went silent. For a long time, they just remained there like that, watching the stars, and occasionally glancing at each other. For a moment, they felt perfectly safe; the cares of the mission and of shipboard life with people they didn't like but had to share the Argo with had passed them by, dissolved by their mutual love and friendship…


"You smug idiots," hissed the Dark Lord as, in his darkened audience chamber, Ekogaru sat looking at the three friends cuddled in their hug on the Argo while the scene remained on his screen. His fist clenched. "If I were there now, I'd spit on you. I have subordinates. I have worshippers. I have slaves. But a God has no friends. No peers. How can it be that one such as I would have peers? I sit on the throne by myself, indivisible. Friendship has passed me by; and for me, love is a joke. I am now closer to you than before. Merely six hundred and fifty thousand lightyears separate me from you…and from Aliscea. Aliscea. I long for her…so I can drain her power and enslave her to my purposes. Derek…Nova…Mark…wouldn't the three of you look adorable chained up together in a labor camp? I might just grant you the joy of living so I can see the sight. Perhaps…and…perhaps, I can think of something better and more fitting for you scum. Perhaps. Yes…if I let you live."

The three friends had, in their embrace, unselfconsciously dozed off together. Ekogaru smiled darkly at the sight of Derek's, Nova's and Mark's faces in sleep. "Captain Wildstar…yes…I've watched you rut with your mate…and then sleep. Like baby animals. But, aren’t the three of you the cutest babies of all?" said Ekogaru in a voice dripping with sarcasm. "Babies in their twenties. Daring to oppose the will of a God who has lived for over three thousand years! What cheek you have! And just wait until you see the punishment I will have in store for you!"

At that, Ekogaru laughed a low, hissing laugh. The laugh didn't sound remotely human. Instead, it bore a great resemblance to the hissing of a serpent.


III. VALKYRIE TAKES FLIGHT

Space Patrol Ship Valkyrie's Dock

Wednesday, January 20, 2202

0845 Hours Spacetime


It was near the appointed hour: 0845 on January the 20th. At 0900, the Valkyrie's new skipper would assume command of her vessel.

At that moment, Lieutenant Denise Carroway, having read her dossier on the Valkyrie's crew, stood before her ten-person crew on the small quay next to the ship herself. The crew stood at attention, in two ranks of five each. "At ease," snapped Carroway. Immediately, the crew snapped to an "at-ease" posture with their hands behind their backs.

The Valkyrie herself, all 800 metric tons of her, sat gleaming in the water nearby looking factory-fresh, which she was.

Carroway stood there in her blue peacoat with a white anchor on one breast, light standard blue bellbottoms, and brown boots. She carried her cap in one hand, and her ascot was tucked into her jacket at the collar to keep the January wind out of her coat.

"First of all," she said. "In accordance with my orders, at 0900 hours, I, Lieutenant Denise Carroway, will hereby officially assume command of this vessel. Since we have a small crew, I'd like each one of you to step forward, sound off, and give your rank, name, position, and a brief description of your last assignment, and we can talk a little. Let's start with you, XO."

The somewhat chubby young man in a peacoat and bellbottoms, sans ascot and hat, saluted and stepped forward. "Aye, aye, ma'am. Mah name is Lieutenant Christopher Eager, the new Deputy Captain an' Navigator-pilot of the Valkyrie. Mah last assignment was servin' as tactical radar officer and Assistant pilot of a ship a hell of a lot bigger than this one."

"Mister Eager," said Carroway. "Are you making fun of your new assignment?'

"No, ma'am!" said Eager. "Just that…well…this girl should be easier to steer, that's all!"

"Good. You'll have plenty of opportunity to fly her, since we're going on a two-week test run before we go out with the Twentieth Interplanetary Defense Squadron in mid-February."

"The Twentieth, ma'am?" said an enlisted man near Eager. "How are we gonna fit in with those Sun Htsu class frigates?"

"Tech Sergeant…?"

"Tyrone Garland, ma'am," said the tall, bearded man standing next to Eager. "Combat/Gunnery Specialist on your second bridge."

"Explain your question, Sergeant," said Carroway, eyeing up the tall chocolate-skinned man.

"Well, ma'am…what I mean is that we previously had eight frigates to an escort squadron; running in two flotillas of four each. How does a new ship like this fit in? It is smaller than a frigate."

"Sergeant," said Carroway. "Command expects this ship to take the place of a frigate for escort duties. She's more than adequately armed, she's faster, she's more maneuverable, and cheaper to build and takes less people to man. The Sun Htsu's were originally designed as small battleships with emphasis on heavy armament, high speed and maneuverability, and a moderate armor belt. Problem is, for escort, light patrol, and courier purposes they're a little like killing a fly with a wave motion gun. So, this class was designed to take the place of those old patrol boats…those inadequate little aerospace planes they put on patrol and light escort duty. This was done to give us something adequate and fast for protection of shipping, general patrol duties, quick recon runs, even courier duties. I was told in a command briefing that these ships could even possibly be used to run either important information back and forth, or to run vaccine out to a colony or ship if we ever had an outbreak. The officer who told me about that idea said that they could possibly see an MD in short-term command of one of these ships in the future."

"Why, ma'am?" said Eager. "Who'd stick a doctor in command of a ship?" The image that came to Eager's mind was ludicrous; he was picturing Doctor Sane, with bottle of "spring water", syringe, glasses, Mimi the cat and everything else...sitting there commanding a ship like this.

"Well, they said they made these ships simple enough so they could stick anyone with minimal fighter or recon pilot training in command of such a ship. They said there are a few EDF MD's who have piloting experience, believe it or not. Although, between you and me, I think the possibility of some sawbones commanding a warship is crazy. They're all drunks; I've never seen a doctor with the build to fit in a pilot's seat, they all freak out at explosions, and I doubt you'd ever find an MD or potential MD, man or woman, in this Fleet with piloting experience, a kill record, and the requisite degree and medical experience. If I ever meet someone like that and see them assuming command of one of these, I think I’ll eat my cap," said Carroway with a grin. "Sorry about the diversion. Let’s get back to the task at hand. Chief Engineer?" said Carroway, turning to Garland's right.

A youngish man with a blond crewcut stepped up and saluted. "Ma'am, my name is Lieutenant Junior Grade Neil Callaghan. I've been the assistant engineer on two other ships but never moved up to the Chief's slot before. Looks like I'm the chief."

"Good. Glad to hear you're alert," said Carroway as the wind blew through her hair. "Next?" said Carroway, walking further down her first row. "Sound off, miss."

Then, a slightly chubby woman with light brown hair and glasses spoke up. "Gunnery Sergeant Nicole Harrison, ma'am. I've been in combat, edge of Saturn-Titan on the frigate Davy Crockett. Looks like we hit our Alamo out there…hope we never get in that kind of spot again."

"We might, Harrison," said Carroway sadly. "Scuttlebutt says there's some nasty stuff going on out there. I'll tell you guys later. Next to you, end of the line, our radar specialist?"

"Ma'am, I'm Sergeant Ichiro Miyagawa. Served only planetside on Great Island. Never got aboard a ship until now. It'll be an honor, ma'am."

"And, you, now, leading off the next line," said Carroway, walking around to the first person in the second rank.

"Technical Sergeant Amid Hassain, ma'am. Communications specialist," said a somewhat mustachioed Arabic-looking man. "I was with Eager in the hospital. We were both on the Argo beforehand, twice."

"Then I take it you know Lieutenant Homer Glitchman?" asked Carroway.

"Yes, ma'am. Served under him heading to Iscandar and Telezart. Reason I'm not on the Argo is because I was near Eager and his friends when that bombing raid took place. Nice guy, that Homer, but he's still crazy. I hear he still likes to swim in space," he said with a grin. The crew laughed for a moment.

"Hopefully, in a proper spacesuit," said Carroway with a smile. "Next?'

"Ma'am, Tech Sergeant Viktor Eisenhart. Mechanical Specialist on this ship. Specialty is robotics and robo-servos. Served in Berlin, ma'am. If I may say so, I also make a mean knockwurst mit kraut."

"Nice, you can help the cook in the galley when you don't have grease on your hands. Engine Control Specialist One?"

"Ma'am, Corporal Trisha Jaffee," said a dark-skinned girl whose hair was in cornrows. "I helped set this engine board up on the testbed in Fleet Construction. Took a lot of work to fit the controls of a wave motion engine in such a small space."

"Good job," said Carroway. "Next?"

"Sergeant Bob Llwelyn, ma'am. Just got finished studying this ship's tech manual. Quite a change from the cruiser I was on."

"And, last but not least, our Living Specialist, also known as our 'Chief Cook, Bottle Washer, and Pharmacist's Mate'," said Carroway with a laugh. "Name, please?"

"Corporal Cyndi Harvey, ma'am!" piped up the young blond, who looked to be no more than nineteen.

"First cruise?"

"Aye, ma'am!" she said. "Served on a small base beforehand, ma'am. Supply specialist!"

"Corporal, why are you screaming?" smiled Carroway.

"Habit I got in boot camp, ma'am, and Advanced Individual Training! Forty-six weeks of learning how to run a ship, perform first aid, and run a gunhouse! I can also cook, clean, wash, and make a mean coffee, ma'am!" she piped up as several people snickered.

"Good," said Carroway. "Want a battleship of your own?"

"Uhhhmmm…err…uhh…ehh…no, ma'am," said Harvey with downcast eyes.

"Don't worry; we'll show you the ropes, kiddo," said Carroway as she put an arm around Harvey. "All right, it's oh-nine hundred! I now hereby assume command of this vessel…let's get this show on the road! We're off to outer space, people!"

Everyone snapped to, saluted, and then began to follow Carroway up the gangplank with their suitcases and seabags.

Soon, the Valkyrie was cruising away from her dock at slow speed. Her next destination was to be the Sea of Stars.


TO BE CONTINUED WITH ACT SIX-"Yvona's Dark Apotheosis"


THERE ARE NOW 125 DAYS TO THE ARRIVAL OF EKOGARU IN EARTH'S SOLAR SYSTEM


To return to the Introduction to the Rikasha Incident please click here