ALTERNATE TALES OF THE STAR FORCE

STAR BLAZERS—THE PRINCESS AND THE SURFER

Being the seventh 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 ONE: MILITARY INTELLIGENCE AND A CHRISTENING


 

I. LIVE-FIRE EXERCISE

 

Planet Earth

 

Vicinity of The Tokyo Megalopolis

 

The Space Fighters’ Training School

 

Monday: May 4, 2207

 

1830 Hours: Local Time

 


 

It was now late afternoon at the Space Fighters’ Training School.

 

Most of the Classes of 2207 and 2208 sat in their red-and-white and blue-and-white Midshipman uniforms in bleachers on a hillside near a bleak spot of bare, battered ground that still bore traces of craters from planet-bomb hits back during the Gamilon War.

 

This looks like a part of Earth that the Cosmo-DNA never healed, thought Sasha in a depressed fashion as she sat next to her roommate, ready to watch the show as a Space Marine Armored Personnel Carrier manuevered down around a crater below in this nasty spot not far from the firing range.

 

Then, the Midshipmen gasped when two or three Bopper Gun rounds slammed against the APC. They had been activated by remote control.

 

The APC’s rear hatch flew open, and the 255th Platoon flew out, grunting and cursing as they took positions by the edge of a crater.

 

A moment later, practice-intensity laser rounds fell about them as they returned fire to a bleak spot with their weapons; lasers and Bopper Gun rounds went off like mad.

 

Then, some mines went off. The platoon hid behind their APC, and a gunner got up onto the APC’s upper deck and let loose with its laser machine gun.

 

The cadets were awed for about an hour or two as the messy, explosive display continued.

 


 

Later on, when they got back to the main part of the SFTS, Lt. Maples looked disdainfully at the shocked Class of 2208 as they stood in formation in their blue-and-white midshipman uniforms and thought, You people must have been losin’ it…bunch o’ sheltered damn kids. Too damn stupid to be officers, I…

 

Then, Maples nudged Stovall in the arm with his elbow and said, “Hey, Stovall!”

 

“What?”

 

“See that girl over there? The one with the weird long blonde hair? I recognize her. I used to torture her durin’ her plebe year here at the Academy. Almost got her thrown out.”

 

“What’s ‘er name?” whispered Stovall.

 

“Sasha Petrovsky,” said Maples. “Little creep…”

 

“Sir, I heard she’s really rich,” said Lance Corporal Nevland, one of Stovall’s ‘boys’. “Heard she’s some kinda rich bitch distant relative of the Wildstars or somethin’. She practically got her graduation purchased for her, damn snot.”

 

“Where’d ya hear that?” said Maples, who was smiling.

 

“Scuttlebutt.”

 

“You said her name was ‘Petrovsky?’” asked Stovall.

 

“Yeah, I did,” said Maples.

 

“When I was on the Westphalia a few months back,” said Stovall with slow relish. “She was some kind of important bitch. There were some secret communications about her between the Commander and President and Wildstar I overheard on the Westphalia in the fall that I didn’t quite make out.”

 

“So?” said Maples.

 

“She’s important to Commodore Wildstar,” said Stovall. “Like a long-lost cousin, maybe. We screw her up, we screw Wildstar up.”

 

“Yeah, she’s gotta be more important than she is,” said Maples.

 

“I wanna get Wildstar for that bad performance report he gave me back in October 2206,” muttered Stovall. Then, a flash of knowledge came to him from the Dark Lord. “She’s under some assumed name and she’s someone else. Oh…man, I wanna hurt her and Wildstar SO BAD.”

 

“How?” said Maples.

 

“Attack her,” hissed Stovall. “Leave her cryin’ in an alley someplace….maybe even kill the little snitch.”

 

“And lose your stripes?” snapped Maples as a shap pain hit Stovall’s head, making him aware Ekogaru didn’t like this plan, either.

 

“So, what do you suggest, SIR?” whispered Stovall.

 

“You said she’s under an assumed name?” said Maples.

 

Stovall nodded.

 

“Well, let’s find out who she is. They keep medical records in Blackwell Hall, where the infirmary is, and I know they don’t guard it much at night,” said Maples. “Stovall, you guys up to a little bit o’ midnight requisitioning?”

 

Stovall nodded as Lance Corporal Nevland said, “Sir, that’s breaking and entering…”

 

“”That I know, boss,” whispered Maples. He leered at Sasha’s shapely bottom from afar as the cadet formation broke up. “Let’s do it tonight. Twenty-three hundred; Blackwell Hall.”

 

The other Marines nodded. They liked the idea.

 


 

2300 Hours….

Blackwell Hall

 

Maples, Stovall, Nevland, and one other Marine had stolen into Blackwell Hall and past the minimal Midshipman guard like ghosts.

 

Following Maples’ directions, they ignored the infirmary and exam rooms and easily managed to break into a small file room that held the medical records of various Midshipmen.

 

They found the filing cabinet that held the “P’s” and found a thin file reading “Petrovsky, S”

 

“What’s here?” whispered Stovall.

 

“Not much. Your girl’s a healthy one,” muttered Maples as he read the file by penlight. “She hasn’t been here much, and…wait, man. Last page of the file! “See 225 file in Profile room for more info…”

 

“Where’s the Profile room?” said Nevland.

 

“The room where they hide shit,” muttered Stovall. “That little closet here. I was here before years ago.”

 

“When?” said Maples.

 

“I was finding confidential stuff on a cadet named Wakefield,” said Stovall. “Crud to torture him with when the little creep was one o’ my plebes. Break open that closet, Nevland. Quietly.”

 

Nevland stole over to the small closet door and rifled open two locks with his bayonet. The door creaked open.

 

The Marines were soon inside, breaking open two locked filing cabinets.

 

Wakefield,” muttered Stovall. He grabbed Deke’s old personal profile folder for sheer vindictiveness and then he found another folder. It read “Wildstar(-P) S.”

 

“Lookit this, sir,” he said as he pulled out a very thick file. He opened it, and Sasha’s picture appeared at the upper left hand corner of the inside of the file. The name below it read, “Wildstar (aka Petrovsky), Sasha, Princess of Iscandar CONFIDENTIAL MEDICAL FILE: CLASSIFIED: FOR EYES ONLY”

 

“Holleee shit, she ain’t even human!” muttered Nevland.

 

“Shh…you want the whole place to hear us?” said Stovall as he got out a portable digital spy cam. “Guard the door, Nevland. You hear ANYONE comin’, either strangle ‘em or shoot em with your silenced Astro-Automatic. What’s our escape route, sir?”

 

“Out the window,” said Maples as he got out his own spy cam. “I’ll image the legit file and Wakefield’s old file with mine, you do the real file of our Princess,” muttered Maples.

 

Stovall nodded as they got to work.

 


 

II. REPORTERS

 

Planet Earth

 

The Tokyo Megalopolis

 

Newsroom of the Great Megalopolis Times and Reporter

 

Tuesday: May 5, 2207

 

0200 Hours: Local Time

 


 

The Newsroom of the Great Megalopolis Times and Reporter was filled with hard-bitten reporters at this early hour of the morning as gaggles of mean-spirited, cynical men and women, many of whom still smoked archaic cigarettes and cigars, worked feverishly to finish their articles and file them for the morning deadlines of the Print and Web editions of their newspaper.

 

Phones rang, people slammed on computer keyboards, people muttered, yelled and cursed; this room of nasty, cynical reporters was no place for someone with a sensitive stomach.

 

In a small office, the Military Affairs editor picked up one of three ringing phones and yelled, “Who the hell in the Great Casesar’s Ghost are you, buddy? We got a morning edition to

finish!”

 

“Hiroshi,” said Maples in a honey-filled voice. “Ya mean you done forgot me already?”

 

“Maples, you fool!” laughed Hiroshi Kamayama, an old platoon mate of his. “Okay. I got time for ya. Make it five minutes, buddy,” said Kamayama as he belted down a drink of whiskey, hard and straight. “What is it?”

 

“A scoop for tomorrow’s edition,” said Maples. “We got an alien livin’ right here in the Megalopolis, at the Space Fighters’ Training School, and I got proof. Medical files, psych profiles, reports on her psi-abilities, where she came from, even printouts of the dame stark nekkid under a medical scanner.”

 

“Okay, I’ll give ya ten minutes,” said Kamayama. “What’s her name?”

 

“Sasha,” purred Maples. “And the little slut is half-Iscandarian and is the niece of Derek and Nova Wildstar and the daughter of Starsha of Iscandar and Alex Wildstar, and she’s married IN SECRET to this guy named Deke Wakefield.”

 

Stovall laughed his butt off at that one. “Wakefield’s newest piece of tail!” he said. “Maybe I can get her drunk, too!”

 

“SHUT UP!” snapped Maples. “Hiroshi, they had her covered up good at the Academy. Ya want the files, it’ll cost ya,” said Maples as he talked from a pay phone near a diner off-campus; he and his unsavory squad had gotten digital images and had stolen the paper files as well, leaving everything locked and secured behind them. “I got three guys here. Each of us wants a hundred thousand credits for his share. Four Hundred Thousand Credits, bud. Take it or leave it.”

 

“That’s robbery!” yelled Kamayama.

 

“Take it or leave it,” purred Maples. “I got a card for someone at Asahi Shimbum to talk to next, my friend. Wanna lose the scoop of the century? If not, pay up. Have checks ready for us when we get there…”

 

Kamayama sighed. “It’ll be cash money, bud. I know where we can get it. My editor has this little safe, and…”

 

“Well get him to open it,” said Maples. “Deal?”

 

“Deal,” said Kamayama. “Meet me here at the paper at 4 AM. I’ll have everything you want.”

 

“Nice,” said Maples. “Bye now.”

 

He hung up, and the Marines whooped and hollered as they prepared to give their stolen booty to the Press.

 

Like it or not, Sasha’s secret was about to come out.

 


 

The drop happened on time and Sasha’s life story was sold to the Press while she slept. Kamayama got the files by 0430 Hours and began to call in some old favors, calling up EDF officers and former EDF officers he knew in the middle of the night. He called ten of them; only two talked, and the confirmation he got of the story cost him and his own pissed-off editor in chief another three hundred thousand credits in bribes and favors.

 

Finally, Kamayama was given a “go” to begin writing his rough-draft story at 0600 Hours while his editor, Jenkins, made some calls to their video subsidiary to get a camera crew to the Wildstars’ later that day. Soon, leaks of the info were boiling out (for more bribes) to CNN, Federation News, NBC (in its Washington, DC main office), MoskvaNet, the BBC, DeutscheTelefunken, Reuters, Cosmo News, Al Jazeera, 23rd Century Fox News, name the news branch, it went out. A stringer from the State-Controlled GamilNet was even getting wind of the story at the Gamilon Embassy by 0700 and was calling his Propaganda Minister on Gamilon for permission to run with the story. The Propaganda Minister he was talking with would only have about another day and a half to live (he would be called in for a ‘conference’ with Leader Desslok about this in a while…a conference he’d be carried out of with several mortal blaster wounds) but he gave the nod for the story to be released.

 

The story went out on the World Press wire as a brief squib at 0730 Hours Tokyo Megalopolis time while the Wildstars were washing up. None of them turned on the news, so they didn’t catch the first announcement in the Megalopolis at 0750 Hours local time on a small video station, but Al Jazeera and Action News 6 in Philadelphia formally broke the stories as soon as they got them in their local time zones, at 6PM the previous day in Philadelphia, and 1AM the same day, Riyadh time, in the Arabic countries. By 0800 Hours local time in the Tokyo Megalopolis, insomniac news hounds in Arabia and the Afro States knew the basics of the story in the middle of the night with disclaimers that it was “unconfirmed.”

 

Other news outlets in the Tokyo Megalopolis held the story until they got confirmation. As a result, many outlets didn’t break with the story until later in the afternoon in the Megalopolis.

 


 

Nothing much was happening at the Wildstars’ house because Derek, Nova, Alex, and Sasha were getting ready to go to a stadium near the Kure Space Naval Shipyards.

 

That day, by request, Nova would be christening the new EDF space battleship Nagato before the ship took off on her test run.

 

The Nagato, SBB-9, was an Arizona-class space battleship that had been authorized under a Parliamentary Emergency Fleet Building Program of August 2206. Her SBB-9 registry number was authorized on the motion of Senator Hiroshi Miyama of Great Island in memory of the previous EDF SBB-9 Nagato, lost in action against the Comet Empire in November of 2201. However, the previous Nagato was a Jamaica-class Main Space Battleship. Her name was chosen because the name Yamato (for “Japan”) was actually taken and subsequently foreclosed upon when the original ship renovated as Yamato, SBB-1, was renamed the Argo by Admiral Abraham Avatar in October 2199 prior to her departure to Iscandar. In her renaming request was a request by Avatar that no other EDF ship was ever to be named Yamato again (since SBB-1 actually fought her very first battle in 2199 against a Gamilon disc carrier when she was still named Yamato). 

 

So, upon Senator Miyama’s request, Nagato was first chosen in 2201 as the name of the SBB representing Japan/Great Island in the EDF, and the second Nagato was named in memory of that ship, which had been credited with the kills of six Cometine space battleships and five destroyers at Saturn-Titan before her loss in the coma of the White Comet, where she was destroyed with all hands lost. Lost with her was her Captain, Captain Jonathan Miyama-Parkersburg, a distant relative (cousin four times removed) of Commander Derek Wildstar and Admiral Alex Wildstar. The fact that Nova was thus a distant relative of the first Nagato’s Captain by marriage is what had led to her being invited to launch the new ship.

 

The new ship had been under construction for several months, ever since September of 2206, to be exact. She had taken the Earth Government seven months and nearly a billion credits to complete.

 

So, while the news media was mulling over Sasha’s story, the Wildstars were driving in an aircar towards Kure. Derek, Alex and Sasha wore their usual uniforms, while Nova wore pumps and a white and pink dress and carried a bottle of champagne in a bag.

 

They got to the ship, resting in the middle of Memorial Stadium, at 1100 Hours that morning. They got there just as President Mendellsohn was concluding a speech about the Nagato and her crew as 50,000 members of the populace of the city admired the brand-new two-toned blue space battleship as she glistened in the sun.

 

“At this time,” said the President. “Earth is still caught in a great war. The Comet Empire, the R’Khells, and the separatists on Earth are still endangering our way of life and our peace. I wish we could stop building warships, stop fighting, and concentrate on rebuilding. We cannot do so. Our enemies are not permitting us to do so, and we must fight on. Perhaps, this time, we can stop the Comet Empire. I pray we can do so. Today, we launch Nagato into our fleet in the hope that we can win, this time. In the hope that we can finally stop this enemy, we bid the crew of this new ship Godspeed with our other warriors…”

 

Then, as the crowd cheered, Mendellsohn bowed and stepped off the podium.

 


 

A moment later, on a platform near the Nagato’s bow, a Shinto priest, Buddhist priest, Catholic priest, a Protestant minister, a Jewish rabbi, and a Muslim imam came up to the ship and began offering prayers and blessings in their traditional fashions while Derek Wildstar, Alex Wildstar, Sasha, and Nova got onto a lift to ride up to the platform. While the Imam was concluding his blessings on the Nagato, Nova handed over her champagne bottle to a waiting enlisted man from the Nagato’s new crew, who tied the champagne bottle into a ribbon-type holder.

 

Then, a staff officer introduced Nova after she kissed Derek on the cheek. She came up to the edge of the rail with many cheers, grasping the champagne bottle as she took the microphone.

 

Then, she said, “To protect the peace of Earth, I now christen thee Nagato! Good luck!”

 

Nova then stood up on tiptoe and swung the bottle as hard as she could.

 

The bottle smashed against the new ship’s bow below the wave motion gun, and the military band played a loud flourish as confetti and streamers blew all over the place. The crowd cheered as the Wildstars then bowed, and then they ran towards the lift to board the ship as the building roar of her main engine’s energy buildup blew over the crowd.

Before long, the Wildstars and Sasha were aboard the Nagato, and they were ushered up to the Captain’s Quarters.

 


 

The takeoff only took a few minutes, but Sasha’s legs shook as she sat behind a table in the Captain’s Quarters of the Nagato. I can’t believe this, she thought as a steward began serving them lunch. I’m getting spacesick!

 

“Admiral Wildstar,” said Sasha as she looked at her father, being careful to hide her true relationship to Alex (or, for that matter, Derek or Nova…). “I’m not feeling well, sir…”

 

Alex looked at her with concern as Nova opened her purse. “Just some spacesickness…the Midshipman doesn’t have her space legs, yet,” said Nova as she dug in a pillbox for something.. “Sasha, take this with the juice. It’ll help you.”

 

Sasha nodded weakly as she tried to keep from throwing up her breakfast. “I feel terrible…”

 

“Take the pill,” said Nova. “It’ll pass…”

 

Captain Jan Vanderveer, the elderly skipper of the Nagato, walked in a moment later. “Good afternoon, Admiral, Commodore..,” he said as he shook the hands of the Wildstar brothers. “I don’t have a lot of time to be here with you…I hope you’re enjoying the ride?”

 

“The Midshipman is getting a little spacesick,” said Derek. “But, I’ve been aboard ships on trials before…we’re fine…”

 

“She has a nice ride,” said Nova as she got up to look at the stars as they began coming out as the space battleship reached the edge of the atmosphere. Then, the ship trembled under her, and she screamed and held onto the edge of the table to keep her stomach from slamming into it.

 

“What the heck?” muttered Captain Vanderveer as his hat flew off. The klaxons immediately came on as the lighting in the Captain’s quarters went red.

 

“Commander Mizuki, what in blazes is going on down there?” snapped Vanderveer as he stumbled over to his communications unit.

 

“This is the first bridge…we’re under attack! Comet Empire planes just pounced on us as we went through main engine cutoff!” snapped the ship’s first officer. “Bridge tower took an indirect hit…helm’s damaged, cosmo-radar’s damaged…the officers at those posts are wounded…”

 

“Are the Red Centaurs aboard us yet?” snapped Vanderveer.

 

“Not yet, sir. They’re fighting through flak, sir! We have two Superstars on board, Kamisama knows who the heck on this ship can fly them…”

 

“You’ve got a qualified pilot on this ship,” snapped Derek Wildstar as he threw off his peacoat, ascot, and hat.

 

“Derek!” cried Nova.

 

“Thanks for the concern, but I need a helmet and space gear,” said Derek.

 

“I’ll fly as your Radar Intercept Officer,” snapped Nova.

 

“Nova, with all respect, like hell you will,” said Derek. “You can’t get into a fighter with that,” he whispered as he pulled her close and patted her stomach.

 

“Oh,” she said as tears formed in her eyes. “Right. Well, be careful…you can’t go out there alone, Derek!”

 

“He won’t be alone,” said Alex Wildstar as he threw off his cap.

 

“Sir?” said Vanderveer.

 

“You have two fighters, you have two qualified pilots to form a screen until your Tigers show up,” said Alex as he shrugged off his coat as Sasha’s eyes went wide. “I know, Sasha…it’s going to piss off your mother…but no one attacks a ship I’m on board without me doing something about it,” he snapped. “Derek, it’ll be great flying with you at long last, little brother.”

 

“You remember how to fly a Superstar?” said Derek as he looked at his brother with wonder in his eyes.

 

“It’s like riding a bike,” laughed Alex. “You know it. You never get that plane out of your blood once you’ve flown a mission in her. C’mon, Derek…let’s go…”

 

Derek and Alex nodded at each other, and then at Nova and Sasha, as they left.

 

“Where does this leave us?” said Nova.

 

Vanderveer bit his lip. “Mrs. Wildstar, I’m heading to the bridge. Take Miss Petrovsky with you below to stores and draw proper space uniforms. Meet us on the first bridge ASAP. I’ve got some work in mind for you two, based on what I know of your records.”

 

“Yessir,” said Nova as she saluted. “C’mon, Sasha. Try to hold it in..”

 

Sasha nodded. “I’ll try…”

 


 

Before long, Derek Wildstar, in his Star Force whites and helmet and gloves, was flying a Superstar out of one of the Nagato’s aft launch tubes, and Alex Wildstar, in a helmet, gloves, and his Iscandarian Defense Forces uniform in blue, white and black, flew one out of the other launch tube.

 

They had more than enough work to do. They could see a space battle raging with a number of Tigers and Scorpions and Paranoias off in the distance as the Nagato’s Flight Group tried to make it past the enemy to the ship.

 

However, four Scorpions were flying around, using the Nagato as a target for their guns. A few pulse lasers were going off on the new ship, but it looked to Derek as if either the gunners were really green, or that maybe they were not all fitted out yet.

 

Derek gritted his teeth and flew his Super Starfighter down along the Nagato’s hull, snap-rolling and popping up just in enough time to blast a Scorpion into the next life.

 

Then, he flew over the deck and noticed his heart jumping into his throat as his brother, just having brought down one Scorpion gunboat, flew along with another one right on his tail. “Alex!” he bellowed. “Watch your six, damnit!”

 

“You don’t need to tell me twice, Derek!” snapped Alex as he made a hard roll and turn, flying about to come almost wingtip to wingtip with his brother before the Scorpion completed its roll.

 

Derek and Alex looked at each other through their cockpits and nodded, both of them firing at once into the Scorpion.

 

“Nice job, Derek,” snapped Alex.

 

“Thanks…”

 

Alex then spotted a Paranoia fighter coming up on Derek’s tail.

 

“Derek!” he snapped. “Watch your six!”

 

“Huh?” said Derek. Then, he caught a glimpse of the enemy bird as his plane took a hit and his arm got wounded when a panel blew up. “Damnit!”

 

“What happened, Derek?”

 

“My plane’s FUBARED and my arm’s hurt!” snapped Derek.

 

“Don’t worry, I’ve got your back,” snapped Alex. “Just like in the neighborhood with those damned Miyagi boys,” he muttered as he remembered a group of bullies who had enjoyed picking on his then-peaceful little brother…a group of bullies who had stopped when confronted one day by the very big and angry UN Space Defense Force Midshipman he had been then, that is.

 

“Thanks,” said Derek as he held his arm and tried to manuever as Alex swooped up behind him and took aim on the enemy pilot.

 

“What do you think you are doing, Earthling scum?” said the Cometine pilot in regard to Derek’s plane as he manuevered the fighter from the strange prone position he was lying in. “I…” Then, his heart stopped as he caught one other angry pilot on his own six. “Oh, Arishna take you, you damn…”

 

Then, Alex fired, and the Paranoia pilot was blown to bits.

 

Derek breathed a sigh of relief. “Thanks, Alex…”

 

“Don’t mention it,” said Alex. “Keep your head up…a second wave is coming!”

 

Great,” said Derek as he ground his teeth in pain.

 


 

Sasha and Nova ran as fast as they could onto the Nagato’s bridge. Sasha had changed into a blue uniform she had found that looked a little like a Midshipman’s uniform in two-tone blue but which contained a full collar. Nova had squeezed into a female space uniform and boots, and she also wore a blue and red peacoat over it to help to protect her stomach, and she had also found an ascot somewhere. She had also asked a Space Marine to be sure she had a weapon in case they were boarded; he had obliged with an astro-automatic.

 

At the Captain’s station, Vanderveer spotted them and snapped, “Midshipman Petrovsky, take over the cosmo-radar from Miss Fey. Mrs. Wildstar, since you’re a qualified navigator, take the helm from Mister Manglin. Mister Manglin, go to the battle radar; Miss Fey, take over at Analysis.”

 

“Yessir,” said all four officers as they switched places. Nova carefully bucked on her harness and made sure her chair was locked in its track as she took the helm. “Helm’s a little sluggish, sir,” she said as she looked at Commander Mizuki, the ship’s First Officer, who was running Combat in the white gloves and blue and gold peacoat he had been wearing earlier during the ceremonies.

 

“I know,” he said. “Half the ship’s not working right. They were going to fix it in the shakedown, they said. Yeah, right,” he said as he pushed his long hair out of his eyes. Then, he looked at Nova. “You know what you’re doing?”

 

“I was skipper of a cruiser once, and stood some watches at the helm of my ship, as well as on the Argo,” said Nova. “If this thing will let me compensate for these screwed-up thrusters, we’ll be good….”

 

“My stomach,” gasped Sasha.

 

“Spacesickness bag is over there in the port drawer,” said Nova in a monotone.

 

A few other members of the bridge crew held back snickers as Sasha used the spacesickness bag. She got rid of the mess and then noticed blips on the radar. “Oh! Enemy fleet approaching! Four Cometine space battleships and eight destroyers at RX-235, speed, eighteen space knots, range, fifteen megameters. Just getting into their own effective firing range!”

 

“Sure you know what you’re doing?” smirked Ensign Manglin, a young blond man with a bit of a smirk on his face.

 

“Affirmative, sir,” snapped Sasha. “I just don’t have my space legs yet! I haven’t been on a ship for years…”

 

“Helm, hard about, port, fifteen degrees,” said Vanderveer. “We need to intercept that lot.”

 

Nova nodded from her post. “Helm, hard about, fifteen degrees, bringing up speed to twenty-two space knots to intercept the enemy fleet in one hundred seconds.”

 

Vanderveer snapped, “Mizuki, Hamlin, open main guns!”

 

“Turret number two will be running four seconds behind, power level’s down,” said Miss Kira Hamlin, the ship’s female artillery officer, from her post.

 

“Well, compensate for the dratted thing, Kira!” snapped Mizuki. He looked over and saw that Nova had the ship right on course. “Not bad,” he muttered.

 

“There was one little action we had in the Rikashan war once late at night,” said Nova. “I was at the helm, Derek was pointing those guns. We got them then, we’ll do it now…”

 

Nova then gasped as the enemy fleet fired. Two shots hit the Nagato’s bow.

 

She tilted the bow downwards to evade the fire, and then she picked up speed another 0.5 space knots.

 

“Engine room,” she said into the comm tube. “Can you give us more power?”

 

“I’ll do our best,” said the officer on duty below. “This is a real test, ma’am!”

 

“Well, this is a real battle, thank you,” Nova retorted. Sasha grinned a little from her post. She thought… That’s good, give ‘em hell, Auntie!

 

“Radar operator! Range to the enemy fleet!” snapped Vanderveer.

 

“They’re at five degrees to port, RZ-240, speed twenty knots, range, ten point two-two megameters,” said Sasha as sweat ran down her face. This is harder than I thought, she thought to herself. Especially when the ship is moving and you’re getting shot at. No way is this an Academy simulator..this is real!

 

“Mizuki, give us your best,” said Vanderveer.

 

Mizuki nodded, “Kira, fire main guns!”

 

“Acknowledged!” said the young African-American officer. “Main guns, FIRE!”

 

At that, the Nagato’s forward main guns spoke in anger for the first time. One Cometine space battleship and two destroyers blew apart.

 

Not bad, thought Nova as she squinted at the explosions outside. A destroyer came up at them very fast, and, she cried, “HOLD ON!” and did a hard roll that caused something in the Nagato’s superstructure to groan a little in protest as she avoided the enemy fire quite well.

 

Sasha’s stomach rebelled at that manuever. She began to think, Auntie, but bit off the words as she stammered, “Mrs….Wildstar…please remember this isn’t the space coaster on the moon, ma’am!”

 

“I’m doing my best!” snapped back Nova as she braced her booted feet hard against the deckplates as she began a turn to evade the ruins of a newly destroyed battle satellite that the Cometines had just blown up. Of course, the battle satellite had fired at the enemy ships and had done nothing at all.

 

The Nagato fired again, and then again, blowing up two more ships in the process.

 

However, the battle still raged on…

 


 

III. THE STORY OF DANA HALL

 

San Diego: The Rio Amarillo Apartments

 

Dana Hall’s Apartment

 

Monday: May 4, 2207

 

2130 Hours: Local Time

 


 

The space battle had continued, with the ships involved passing the International Date Line into the previous day over Earth, and also, incidentially, passing over the terminator into Earth’s night side over the other side of the Pacific Ocean, aka The Great Easten Sea.

 

In the Rio Amarillo apartment complex, a young raven-haired woman in a gauzy white dress stood in her bare feet in the grass behind her large condominium, trying to take her mind off the sadness that had perfused it lately by watching the stars that night through the macrobinoculars her late husband had left her.

 

The woman was named Dana Hall. Her husband, Lieutenant Alan Hall, had been a member of the EDF up until February. He had been serving on the spacecraft carrier Wasp then, as a member of the Red Vipers flight group.

 

He had never gotten home. There had been a skirmish with the damned Comet Empire near Uranus in early February. The Wasp, near the end of her patrol then, had launched planes to protect a freighter. Dana’s husband, Alan, had been one of the pilots who had met the Cometines. Two Paranoia fighters, they said, had taken him away from her forever in that battle and had brought two years’ worth of marriage to an untimely end.

 

Some of the units here in this complex had been sold as condominiums the previous year, while others were still rental properties.

 

Tears ran down Dana’s face as she thought, It was about a year ago, now. Alan and I bought this unit with such high hopes for our future last April. He said he’d serve two more tours in space and could then put in for reassignment to serve with the Military Science Professors’ Staff at the ROTC unit at Pan-Am University. I had just gotten into Medical School here in San Diego at San Diego Central Hospital. I completed my first semester of med school last year with high grades. Then, I got the news in mid-February when I came home from class on that cold and rainy day. Then, there was the funeral. No one was surprised when I took leave from medical school. Everyone knows a young widow needs time alone to mourn….

 

Dana sighed as she scanned space with the binoculars her husband had left her. He loved these so much…almost hate to use them…I…

 

She stopped, dug her toes into the grass and gasped as she saw bright flashes.

 

“Something’s going on,” she said to herself in a low voice as she looked on, and then she turned her head to notice that her neighbor, Lynn Westland, was in the yard.

 

“Checking on me again?” she said with a half-rueful smile.

 

“You could say that,” said Lynn. “I was trying to call you for the past two days to meet my daughter. She was home for one of her rare visits.”

 

“Oh?” said Dana. “You mean the flight nurse?”

 

“Yes, her. She brought home someone.”

 

“Who? A puppy? A kitten?” said Dana.

 

“No, Dana, a husband. I know it’s a bit of a sore topic for you, but…”

 

“Yeah, life goes on,” sighed Dana. “What’s his name?”

 

“He’s a charming young man, and a great hero, too. His name is Jefferson Davis Hardy.”

 

“Uh…repeat that name again?”

“Jefferson Davis Hardy…he was with the First Star Force.”

 

Dana whistled. “Your daughter has quite a catch. You know, Alan put his name in the hat twice for the Star Force. Twice, he got turned down.”

 

“I’m sorry…Sorry to bring in these reminders of…”

 

“That’s okay. I can’t get away from it in these times,” said Dana. She handed Lynn the binoculars. “Look up there near Polaris. There’s lots of bright flashes at close range, maybe a few hundred megameters up.”

 

Lynn looked. “There’s another one. And another. Dana, what does this mean?”

 

“The air raid sirens might be going off soon,” said Dana with a shrug.

 

“You’d better get ready to run to the shelter, then!” cried Lynn.

 

“Nothing doing,” said Dana as she took back the binoculars. “Looks like one of our space battleships up there with a lot of planes around it fighting some kind of enemy fleet. They’re going awful fast, heading east, too. Soon, they’ll be out of our sight.”

 

“But what if we get hit?” said Lynn.

 

“Won’t matter much to me,” said Dana. “Then I can go home to be with Alan. He’s still out there, you know, out by Uranus, floating dead and frozen in his cockpit,” she said as tears ran down her face. “They told me they couldn’t retrieve him-the wreckage is adrift someplace. Maybe it’s better that way. At least the worms will never get to him way out there in space.”

 

“I told you not to talk like that,” said Lynn.

 

Lynn, thanks. But it doesn’t matter much.”

 

“Why?”

 

“I’m just…passing the time. Marking time, rather. I won’t be around in a few months…”

 

“Stop talking like that, Dana,” said Lynn with concern in her voice.

 

Dana just sighed and turned away. Lynn left her alone. She had come over frequently to check on the depressed young widow, but she knew when Mrs. Hall needed her space.

 

A few minutes later, after Dana got tired of watching the battle, she went back into her three-bedroom condomium after looking around her yard. There was a high fence around the small back yard, and she and Alan used to like the privacy, and she had used to enjoy sunbathing and gardening there. Now, she did little with the garden except pick the peas and beans that were still growing on their vines with little attention from her. She had let everything else, like the other vegetables and the flowers, go to waste.

 

A good gardener could fix this place up, she thought in despair. With those dreams I’ve been having, I think one will be here in a few months…

 

Dana then went into her living room after basicially ignoring the kitchen. She put some soft, soothing piano-based jazz on her stereo and threw herself into her favorite black plush beanbag chair to relax.

 

Dana shut her eyes, and thought of the times she and Alan had enjoyed here; times when they had been happy together; times when they had been so much in love…

 

She looked around again as tears flooded her eyes. She looked at the white plush rug in the middle of the living room, and blushed, remembering that she and Alan had so often made love on that rug. She had wanted so badly for him to make her pregnant that it hurt remembering it.

 

It had never happened, of course. There had been one little “scare” dating back from October, when they had last been together. She had missed a period, written him letters, and thought she was…

 

I did a stupid thing then, so stupid, she thought sadly as she went into what had been the first spare bedroom. They had left the second one for guests.

 

Dana tried to keep from crying as she looked at how she had redone the room. She had painted the walls in cheery stripes in blue and pink, had laid down a white rug, and had purchased two cribs. One was trimmed with blue, the other with pink. A blue mobile suitable for a boy, decorated with little Superstar fighters and Cosmo Tigers in blue, hung over one of the cribs. A pink mobile, decorated with angels and flowers hung over the other one. A window was slightly open, and the mobiles turned slowly in the night breeze of San Diego.

 

There were also baby blankets, a changing table stocked with baby oil, powder, and safety pins for diapers. She opened the drawers and found baby clothes that she had purchased that she now knew she’d never use, because she’d never have any children of her own. Yet, Dana refused to disturb them.