ALTERNATE
TALES OF THE STAR FORCE
STAR BLAZERS—RADNAR’S
GAME
Being the sixth 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 FIVE: NEW LIVES AND
STRANGE PLOTS
I.
ANOTHER MEETING
Planet
Earth
The
Thursday:
April 30, 2207
1130
Hours: Local Time
Karl Forrester was back in the
He and Teri and their youngest children were waiting for two
passengers to debark from a plane at Gate Number 25.
Finally, after the jetway from the sub-orbital jumpjet transport
was opened, Teri’s eyes lit up as she saw a young couple emerging from the
crowd.
The young man had a tangled mop of dark brown hair, and he wore an
EDF flight jacket, white pullover sweatshirt, jeans, and boots. The young,
pregnant woman whom he was holding hands with wore a cute, short maternity
minidress, white straw hat, and matching woven straw sandals.
“Nova!” cried Teri as she ran up to her oldest daughter and hugged
her. She gave her a kiss, and then kissed Commodore Derek Wildstar on the
cheek, making him blush. Karl came up, gave his eldest daughter a kiss, and
then shook hands with Derek as David and Aurora ran up to their sister and
hugged her.
“Nova, are the babies ready to come out yet?” said
“No, honey, they aren’t,” laughed Nova as she tousled her young
sister’s hair.
“Not now and not here!”
laughed Nova as she accepted another hug from her little brother, who had on a
little-boy style suit with shorts.
“Are we all here yet?” said Karl.
“Not yet,” said another somewhat older boy in a suit as he came off
the plane.
Teri’s eyebrows went up as she said, “Nova, who’s this?”
“Oh, yes…he came to stay with us last night, and his mother, a
friend of ours from the Iscandarian Embassy staff, gave him permission to
travel with us for a few days,” said Nova. “Mom, Dad, this is Johanthan
Hartnell-Iiyama….a very dear friend of ours. He just turned fourteen. His
birthday was January the 11th… off when we were in space.”
“My mom and dad had a nice birthday for me, nothing like my ninth
birthday, thank heavens,” said Jonathan.
“Why?” asked Teri.
Jonathan began to sniff and said, “Around the time of my ninth
birthday, my parents took my sister and I with them on a cruise on the
spaceliner
“That’s terrible!” cried Teri as she hugged him.
“I was eventually rescued, and I ended up on Iscandar. There,
Conor and Astra…Astra is the Crown Princess and now the Earth Ambassador to
Iscandar…they became my parents. Mister and Mrs. Wildstar are my godparents.”
“You sound like you’ve been through a lot,” said Karl as they
walked along.
“Believe me, I have been,” said Jonathan. “I have been…”
At the same time, in the Tokyo Megalopolis (where it was the First
of May already thanks to the International Date Line), Conor of Iscandar was
sitting on the bridge of a spacecraft carrier in an underground dock.. He had,
as a symbol of Pellian-Iscandarian unity, been “adopted” by Astrena recently,
and he thus now had the “surname” of D’Shal.
The carrier was the former EDF Yorktown-class
spacecraft carrier Implacable. She had
taken heavy damage in a battle near Pluto with the R’Khells in February of this
year, and her place in Fifth Fleet was already taken by the new spacecraft
carrier Ranger, which had gone on
station in late March. She had been under consideration for repair as a
training ship when the Earth Defense Council had offered her to Alex Wildstar
and the Iscandarian Government in April. Queen Starsha had not wanted to accept
a wave-motion gun equipped large capital ship like this until Alex had
convinced her it was for the good of Iscandar.
Now, the newly-promoted Fleet Captain Conor D’Shal of Iscandar was
watching as work continued on “his” carrier, which would leave Earth in a few
weeks for Iscandar escorted by two EDF fleet cruisers and some newly built
Iscandarian Corvettes to be the nucleus of the new Royal Iscandarian Defense
Fleet. While Conor was the Captain of the new ship, it would eventually be
Prince Consort Alex Wilsdtar’s flagship when the entire RIDF was in action. The
ship already had a new name; the Princess
Astra, and a new pennant number; ISCV-1. Its gold EDF markings and anchor
marks were being painted out and replaced with the purple markings and
eight-pointed star of Iscandar.
Conor sat in thought behind the Captain’s station on the carrier, pulling
up status screens on the computer, He was lost in thought until he felt a
strong hand coming down on his shoulder. He looked over and smiled as he said,
“Alex!”
“How’s work going on our flagship, Conor?”
“They just finished repairing her main guns today, and they’re
still working on her wave engine. They’ve been switching people back and forth
between this ship and that new Earth space battlship they’re building…what is
she called?”
“The Nagato, Conor.
She’s due to be launched in a public ceremony in just a few days. I don’t think
we’ll have the same opportunity here on Earth. We’re supposed to get this ship
home and get ready for wargames with the Gamilons in a few weeks.”
“So you think you’ll be taking her home?”
Alex nodded. “We’re supposed to have a full crew by then; roughly
one-third Iscandarians, one-third Terrans, and one-third Pellians. Everyone’s
being issued EDF Standard Duty Blues with different recognition markers;
anchors for the Earth people, stars for our own, and the emblem of the dagger
for the Pellians.”
“I’ve been working with the Pellians,” said Conor as he got up,
brushing his beard. “They’re really tough, a really mean bunch. They’re even
impressing the EDF officers and men assigned to this command.”
“Good,” said Alex. “Starsha and Astra won’t agree, but the
tougher, the better. I have the feeling this war is not going to end up in a
pretty fashion…”
“I have the same feeling,” said Conor.
II.
SASHA’S REVELATIONS
Planet
Earth
The
Space Fighters’ Training School
Friday:
May 1, 2207
1530
Hours: Local Time
Later
that day, Sasha was back at the Space Fighters’ Training School in a very
melancholy mood. She had been back to class, but wasn’t showing much interest
in anything.
She had talked with her roommate for a while, but they hadn’t made
good conversation, so she sat alone in her blue and white Midshipman’s uniform
for a while before deciding to get something out of her locker.
She finally opened the window, letting the warm spring breeze blow
her hair around before she began to concentrate and thought of herself in some
neverland, a time and space where, to her, her room was a vast space filled
with stars, nebulae, and the blackness of space. The furniture of her room was still
there, but the bulkheads, deck, hatch that led to the passage, and windows had
disappeared.
Sasha continued to look in her locker as the space she was in,
half in, and half out of This World, continued to blow with a lonely breeze.
She was looking in her locker for something. She had a bit of a time finding
it, and she hoped she had remembered to bring it from Derek and Nova’s, where
she had had it sitting in a closet, but she finally dragged out a blue and
white gig bag with a shoulder strap on it.
Sasha opened the bag, and she then opened the inner case; a case
that held an alto saxophone in brass.
Sasha sat on her bunk, put a fresh reed in the instrument, and got
it nice and wet.
She hadn’t played for several months, but she was glad that Aunt Nova
had taught her how to play when she had been younger. Her Aunt wasn’t a
virtuoso with the sax, but their joint playing sessions had always brought a
smile to her face, especially at times when her growing pains had given her bad
fevers and had kept her in bed. There were times Sasha thought she might have
lost her mind if Auntie hadn’t been around to help her by getting her to come
out of her shell by playing a duet.
Sasha got the new reed in successfully and blew a honk or two on
the mouthpiece. Then, she cleaned the cork at the top of her instrument and set
everything up, putting the cord around her neck as she took a few breaths,
getting her fingers on the proper keys.
At first, Sasha just played a few scales, wincing a little at her
sour notes, that made weird honking noises (similar to the sort her Auntie made
on her sax or clarinet when she hadn’t played in several weeks.) Then, Sasha
began to tap her foot and play a slow blues piece as she ignored the tears
running down her cheeks.
She stopped as a few weird notes that she didn’t play came out of
the sax.
I
didn’t play those, she thought. Who did?
Sasha got the urge to play again. To her horror and surprise, her
fingers were playing a melody she didn’t recognize…playing in a weird blues
fashion. She realized after a few notes that something…or someone…was leading
her to play a Bach fugue on the sax.
Why
the hell am I suddenly playing the Passicaglia and Fugue in C Minor?
Sasha thought. I don’t even like the damn
song!
Then, something that looked like a ghost with red eyes showed up
in this strange Neverland as the stars began to fade and everything went almost
black.
“Welcome to my Neverland, Little Princess,” said a deep, mocking
voice from beneath the black cowl the ghost was wearing. “Do you like it here?”
Sasha pulled her lips away from the sax and glared at the weird
spectre. “No, I don’t like it here. I
was trying to make this astral space nice when you had to show up. Who are you,
anyway? Something left over from last Halloween?”
The Entity laughed. “We
have not been properly introduced,
Midshipman Second Class Sasha Wakefield.”
“How did you know that? It’s a secret!”
“I was there when you
married him, there when your aunt and uncle rutted like animals in the shower
that evening, and there to watch you and him
rutting, screwing, and doing bizarre things like animals that night as the Dawn
came on little claw-like cat’s feet. You were very entertaining, Sasha.”
“I take it I know your name, you sick piece of filth?”
“Say it,” chuckled the Ghost.
“You’re the legendary Ekogaru, aren’t you? I will not do you any
sort of honor by giving you any of your so-called titles,” snapped Sasha. “By
all that is right and true, you should be dead and in some dark dimension someplace
eating at yourself alone like a virus.”
Ekogaru laughed. “I have learned how to transcend Death, Sasha. I will live forever. You and Deke will not.
Unless you join Me.”
“If you think I’ll join you like Yvona Josiah, you need your head
examined. Or whatever is left of it,” snapped Sasha. “You look like something
that should have been decently buried in a grave about fifty years ago. You’re dead!”
Ekogaru laughed and said, “Join me, my dear, or you might just die
in childbirth. Along with your Auntie Nova. I intend to be there the night her
children are born to take her life. You
will be the next to go.”
Sasha just glared at him and screamed into his face in rage. She
wanted to strike him, but he disappeared with an acid laugh as everything went
black.
Suddenly, the whole strange astral landscape vanished, and Sasha
was back in her room. Did I really
experience that? Did I really see him? Sasha thought in despair.
He
lives, unfortunately, came the voice of her mother in her mind. Forgive me. I have been trying to protect
you from him over the past few weeks. This time, it did not work…
“Why
are you hiding him from us?” screamed Sasha.
“What he is is a dark spirit of hatred trying to take shape again
in the body of an unfortunate petty-minded Earthling he has possessed,” said
Starsha as everything went dim and her spirit appeared before her daughter
before the sunset that had suddenly appeared in a new, much more tranquil,
astral space where Starsha had transported Sasha to so they could talk in
peace. “He is causing much hatred and
trouble. His greatest power is in terror and phantasms. He has other powers I
don’t even care to think of because they are so twisted and morbid…”
“What is his thing with twisting life, Mother?”
“He, Sasha, has fathered a boy, a twisted version of you, that he
created by twisting the genetic structure of a human child conceived by a clone
of Yvona Josiah and the body he has possessed.”
“Who has he possessed?”
“Why, Sasha?”
“I’d love to find him and break his neck. That would solve a lot of problems.”
“I wish I knew,” said Starsha sadly. “He does a very good job of
keeping the face of the Earthling he has possessed obscured. Also, the
Earthling is slowly dying as Ekogaru grows stronger. Eventually, given enough
years, there will be nothing left of the poor Earthling but a husk. Even I pity
him. And Ekogaru will again possess a body to do his sick work.”
“We have to find him, Mother! He threatened me and Aunt Nova
with….”
“The loss of your children?”
Sasha nodded. “Am I carrying Deke’s child yet?”
“No, but you will…when the right time comes. Do not forbid him his
martial perogatives when you two are reunited. It would be interference with
Destiny.”
“When will Destiny quit screwing
around with me and my head and my LIFE, Mother? When will I live a normal life
someplace?”
“Much has to happen,” said Starsha. “Oh, you are so much like my
late sister at times…and there is so much I wish I could show you…”
“Then why don’t you reveal it and save us all a metric shitload of
trouble?” snapped Sasha.
“I dare not. The future is not clear to see at all times. You know
that. Even as I slowly increase my powers by way of my greater practice and
meditation, I see how much I do NOT know and cannot control. The wiser I grow,
I find that I know less. I don’t even know if I have interfered enough…or too
much for everyone’s good, Sasha.”
“Mother, one can’t help interfereing.
It’s part of living. And if you had interfered sooner, Desslok would have been
defeated earlier than he was. Deke would still have his family. Uncle would
still have his parents. And maybe Aunt Nova’s Aunt Yvona would have remained
sane and been able to live out her life as a normal person.”
“If only you knew, Child,” sighed Starsha. “Rest in peace tonight.
You will be troubled no more. I can at least tell you that…”
“Thanks,” said Sasha as she shut her eyes and turned away from her
Mother.
Sasha came out of her astral landscape and began to play her
saxophone again. This time, she consoled herself by playing Moonlight Serenade. It sounded
beautiful, and it calmed her mind a great deal.
Sasha was beginning to play a second time as she began to get a major
headache. It was something that occassionally happened when she stretched her
powers too far. She realized then that she had been stretching her powers to
their limit to keep her sanity in the sick astral presence of Ekogaru a few
minutes ago…or was it a few hours ago?
She looked at the chrono on her desk. The time was now 1630. I was only floating around in and out for an
hour? Sasha thought. It felt like
years? Gets like that when I leave this plane…gets weird…
Then, a moment later, a knock came at the door.
Sasha came to attention and yelled “Officer on the deck!
ATTENTION!”
Instead, someone opened the door, and a young woman in a black
dress and unusual anklewrap sandals came in.
“Nova?” she said as she looked at the young face. “I thought you
were in
“I’m not Nova,” the woman replied in a lilting, strangely-accented
voice that sounded a little like her mother’s. “For one thing, the hair is a
bit longer,” she said as she did a pirouette on her toes that made her
hip-length honey-blonde hair whip around. “For another thing, I wasn’t even
born on Earth.”
“Who are you?”
“Think of your Recent Military History course, Sasha of Iscandar,”
she whispered. As Sasha’s eyes went wide, the young woman shut the door and
said, “I know they call you “Petrovsky”, but I know you are someone else. I can
see things that no one else can. And your mother just asked me to stop in and
comfort you. I was watching my husband do some guest-lecturing today in a
Gunnery Class, so I’ve been walking around the campus all day. My name is
Aliscea Rosstowski, late of Pellias. I can teach you things your mother
wouldn’t want you to know. Like this,” said Aliscea as she looked around. Then,
she opened her purse and pulled out a small ashtray and pack of cigarettes. Aliscea
said, “Pardon me. Filthy habit I picked up from Paul. Good old Reom 120’s.
Nothing to relax you like tobacco when you need it.”
Aliscea then put a cigarette in her mouth, puffed, and, to Sasha’s
surprise, Aliscea put up an index finger, shut her eyes, and made fire wink
from the tip of her finger. She used it to light the cigarette, and took a deep
drag. “Want some? It is relaxing.”
“You will give yourself cancer with that dried weed. I’ve talked
with Deke about that habit to no avail, so I live with it,” snapped Sasha. “And
if the tac officer smells that smoke in here, I’ll be marching with a rifle
again this weekend.”
“We all have vices, dear. And I will make sure no one smells a
thing. I have that power. What about you and your candy?”
“Oh, that…why are you here?”
“To show you how to keep Ekogaru out of your head…with some rather
unorthodox methods. And to tell you how to let us know if he shows up again. We
have to find where he is so we can kill his host dead, dead, DEAD.”
“Amen to that,” said Sasha as she smiled at Aliscea. “You don’t
take any crap from anyone, do you?”
“Hell no,” said the Pellian.
“Good, I like that,” said Sasha. “Teach me.”
Aliscea nodded. “It goes like this, Sasha…shut your eyes…”
And, at that, Aliscea began to teach Sasha the rudiments of mental
disciplines she had never even dreamed of. Disciplines that were definitely not the current pacifistic disciplines
of the Iscandarians…
III.
DIFFICULTIES FOR
The
Vicinity of Tethys
The
Moons of Saturn
Friday:
May 1, 2207
1615
Hours: Local Time
“People, that last run wasn’t anywhere near good enough!” yelled Deke Wakefield irritably into his lip
mike as the Trojans flew manuevers off the Wasp
over the frozen surface of Tethys near Saturn. “We’re doing it again! NOW!”
“Gotcha,” said Brew irritably. “Second squadron, let’s do that
again.”
“Is he getting better or worse?” asked “Bangs” Capistrano.
“Worse,” said Brew.
“He needs something,” said Capistrano.
“I’m tracking the radio traffic!” snapped Deke. “Cut the chatter,
squadron! We’re flying that again until we get that right! Got it?”
“Roger,” said Brew, all procedure now.
“Roger that, sir,” said
Capistrano.
At that, they flew their manuevers again.
An
hour later, the exhausted Trojans landed on the aft deck of the spacecraft
carrier Wasp (SCV-4) as she took on
the Trojans and one of her other Flight Groups, a Group called the Blue Devils.
A few minutes later, Deke came out of his plane and went to his office to begin
furiously writing up a report while someone banged at the hatch.
Finally, Deke thumbed the control and let the hatch slide open and
snapped, “YES?”
A large, tall, hefty man in a Space Marine uniform was looking at
him. “Mister Wakefield, I’m Master Sergeant Bianca, Chief Master of Arms on
this vessel. I see you have an unauthorized weapon on this command?”
“Oh, this,” said
“I haven’t been able to find you for the past two damn days and
had to report it to the Skipper,” snapped Bianca. “And now you owe him one hell
of an explanation. Take that thing and get your ass out of this office NOW, Mister. You’re coming with me to see the
Captain.”
“I’m busy, Sergeant, and I need a damn cup of coffee,” snapped
Deke. “MAKE me…”
Bianca grabbed up DJ with one hand and gave
Deke snarled at Bianca, but he thought, I have Sasha to think about. I can’t screw my career up now, as much as
I want to have this jackass run his face into my fist. Deke sighed and said,
“Let’s go up to Officers’ Country and work this out with the Skipper, Sergeant. I have a damn good explanation
for carrying that weapon.”
Bianca nodded. “I thought
you’d see reason sooner or later, sir. I know this cruise began to suck from
Day One. Follow me…”
A while later, Wakefield was standing at attention before the XO
of the Wasp, the Mechanical Group
Leader, a nasty-looking man with a sharp nose named Commander Max Dettweiler,
and the ship’s skipper, a shorter African-American man with dark hair in a
short natural cut named Captain Jacob Jackson.
Bianca finished reporting to the XO, stating, “And, to sum it up,
I’ve seen this new officer carrying that old Shetland relic everywhere. It
looks like he has ammo for it, and he never checked it into the armory or
filled out a 6-295 Form for it as we require in the few cases when we have
officers bringing non-standard personal sidearms with them aboard a command,
like, as the scuttlebutt says, Commodore Wildstar does with his brother’s old
Astro-Automatic. His only explanation is this letter, which he neglected to
show us when he piped on…”
“Let me look at zat,” said Dettweiler, who grabbed the letter from
Deke’s hand. “He forged this, sir,” said the nasty Mechanical Group Leader a
moment later. “My recommendation is; let’s dismiss him and leave him at the
brig at Saturn-Titan for a special court-martial…there is no excuse for this
sort of flagrant breach of…”
“Wait, Commander,” snapped Captain Jackson in a deep, but almost
good-natured voice. “
“But…?” said Dettweiler.
“Let me at least see the
letter,” said
“Shall I record it?” said Dettweiler as Deke gave him a black
look.
“You will do no such thing, Mister,” snapped
Both men saluted and left Deke alone with the Captain.
A moment later,
“Sir?” said Deke.
“You are dedicated,
son,” said
“And?”
“I know that you are a newlywed, I know who the girl is, and I
know the circumstances. I know you cannot discuss them, and that those circumstanves
will never leave this office. Given what has happened, and given how you were
torn away from her, I can understand how you may have forgotten to check in
your weapon. Is that the reason?”
“Yessir,” said Deke as he morosely sipped at his drink. “Sasha…I
wish I could have smuggled her aboard this ship in a seabag, sir. Or something.
I finally get married to her, and they rip me away from her the next morning
after we consumate our marriage, and…”
“Say no more,” said
Deke nodded.
“Yessir,” said
“Good luck to you,” said
“Thanks, sir,” said Deke. “I’ll need it…”
IV.
LYNN, DAWN, AND JEFF…
Lynn
Westland’s Apartment
Saturday:
May 2, 2207
1416
Hours: Local Time
To say that Lynn Westland was shocked when Dawn brought Jefferson Hardy
into their apartment and introduced him to her mother as her “husband” was a
major understatement.
“What?” said
“Mom, I said, this is Lieutenant Commander Jefferson Hardy, my new
husband…”
Hardy said, “Pleased to make your acquaintaince, Mrs. Westland…”
“I’m
not!” snapped
“Excuse me, ma’am?” said Hardy.
“It’s not you,
Jefferson,” said
“I had a good reason, Mom,” said Dawn as tears formed in her eyes.
“We came home together from a long mission, and you know the way this war has
been going…I had no idea when we’d be together again, so I thought we’d elope…”
“And hide it from the whole world? That was a class act, Dawn!
Okay. How did you meet this young man? How and where?”
“Ma’am, I’ve known yoah daughter for quite a while. I met her at a
World Services Organization canteen some years back before she graduated from
college. We started talking there, and swore to keep in touch. We wrote, and
then we met up again on the Argo last
year…”
“The Argo?” cried
“Special mission we couldn’t and still can’t discuss,” interjected
Dawn. “We met again on that mission and gradually decided we had to get
married…we just had to…”
Dawn and Lynn looked at each other for a long while. Finally,
“Why?” said Dawn.
“We’re going to Campobello’s, that’s why. My treat,” said
Jeff smiled at Dawn, and she smiled at her mother. “Sounds like a
plan…”
That afternoon, the three of them took a nice walk on the nearby
beach, watching the surf, the gulls, a few surfers, kids flying kites, and
smiling at a few sunbathers in passing, some of whom were topless or in nothing
at all (the beach was clothes-optional starting around the apartment complex).
Later, at dinner, (during which Dawn had changed into a long skirt
she had in her bags along with a pair of open springtime heels), Lynn was quite
impressed at Jeff’s gallantry as he pulled out chairs for both Lynn and Dawn
and made sure they were both comfortable.
At dinner,
After dinner, they returned to
Before they turned in,
“Thanks, Mother,” said Dawn.
“But, I wonder,” said
Dawn fiddled with the small star, but remained silent.
Dawn shook her head no.
“You never told him?”
“Mom, Jeff has been through some painful times, and so have I…”
Dawn then traced a crack in the cement nervously with the open toe of her pump,
with the bit of light visible that night glinting off her mother-of-pearl
polished toenails as she did so. “We..Jeff and I….agreed it was best to leave
the past in the past…”
“I’m not happy, Dawn,” said
“I’m confused, Mother…”
“So am I,” said
“It’s not quite that…it’s…Well, Mother….every time that we…Jeff
and I…started to discuss our past relationships, we realized they were just too
painful to recall….”
“I can’t understand that…”
“It’s us…you don’t have to understand, Mom…”
“Okay…I won’t,” sighed Lynn Westland. “However, I do not think
it's right for you, Dawn to continue wearing Deke’s pendant now you are married
to Jeff. That star belonged to Jess, Deke’s mother, and Deke gave it to you as
a symbol of his love for you. To continue wearing it now that you are married
to another man is a slap in Deke’s face.”
“No it’s not!”
Dawn banged down her drink angrily. “Mom….Well…that's obviously *not*
going to happen now, is it? I can't help what Deke’s been hoping for. He blew
it when he left for the space school. It is his own damned fault!”
Dawn kicked a small pebble off the balcony as she said “Mom, it is
because a little part of me still loves Deke, okay, and that part of me still
needs and wants to remember him, okay?
Jeff knows it was given to me by an ex, and he's accepted my need to continue
wearing it in spite of the fact we're now married. Maybe you don't approve, but
please, don't ask me to give this up, okay?”
“I’ll get that,” said
“I’d better go see if it woke up Jeff…”
“Good idea,” said
At his end, from the Saturn-Titan space station (where he had
liberty) Deke Wakefield was about to give up in his attempt to call
“
“No, not at all,” said
“That’s good,” said Deke. “I owe you an apology,
“Why not?” said
Deke sighed, “
“That sounds great? Where are you going?”
“I can’t say; except that it’s somewhere outside of the solar
system…”
Dawn tiptoed out of the bedroom on bare feet after kissing Jeff
softly. She shut the bedroom door and tiptoed down the hall, with her heart
nearly kicking its way out of her chest when she recognized the voice at the
other end of the visiphone. Deke?
Dawn thought. Why the hell are you
calling up?
Dawn came into the kitchen and spotted her mother on the
visiphone.
Dawn gasped, and had just enough presence of mind to get her hands
behind her back (explaining her new wedding band now might be awkward), but she
could not hide the incriminating star pendant, nice and exposed above her bare
collarbone.
“Dawn?” said Deke.
“Yes,” she said uncomfortably with a dry throat. “It’s me.”
“Funny, there’s someone in our squadron who looks just like
you…she’s named Capistrano…she has hair like yours…we call her “Bangs” but her
first name is Gabrielle. She made me think it was you when I piped aboard…my
new command.”
“Were you disappointed that it wasn’t?”
“No,” said Deke after a long moment. “I wasn’t.”
“Why not?” challenged Dawn with a flutter of her eyelids that
almost made her mother want to slap her across the face.
“You were haunting my dreams, Dawn.”
“Really?”
“No more,” said Deke in a dry voice. “Dawn, Lynn…the best way I
can say this…” he said slowly as he realized he could not spill the beans about
Sasha and his recent secret marriage. “Is…that I am involved with someone. This girl…”
“I hope it’s a girl,
Deke,” snapped Dawn as
“Lynn…Dawn…I’ll write both of you a letter. To explain. I’ve
changed a lot…in the past few years. You know that,
“Yeah…I…”
“Dawn, I’m sorry…but life goes on,” sighed Deke. “Why are you
still wearing my star pendant?” he asked in a quiet voice.
“I…I can’t explain it…but, Deke,” said Dawn. “You are not the only
one that life has ‘gone on’ for. It’s ‘gone on’ for me, too. Good night, Deke.”
Before
“Good,” said
“You don’t approve of me? Good. I’ve grown up, Mother. And I won’t
stop wearing this pendant. It reminds me of good times…good memories. Okay?”
“Okay,” said Dawn as she looked at her feet. “I’m going to bed,
Mother. Good night.”
“Good night, Dawn,” said
“Yes?”
“I think it’d be better if you and Jeff left in the morning. You
can come by another time.”
Dawn nodded.
Dawn nodded, tiptoeing back to the bedroom.
Dawn changed into her nightclothes (she was not going to sleep in her
skin with Jeff tonight in her own old house) but found she couldn’t sleep.
She threw on a robe and tiptoed out into the hall, peeking around
the corner as her mother sat talking to some unaccountably young woman on the
visiphone.
Dawn couldn’t hear that well, but a sight of the girl’s face made
her blood run cold for some reason.
The young woman had long blond hair, an innocent face, beautiful
burgundy-brown eyes, and she wore a set of striped pajamas that somehow looked
strangely familiar to Dawn. It looked as if she was sitting inside a very
elegant, expensive-looking house with simulated walnut-panelled walls.
Something about her face made Dawn almost instinctively jump up to
try to scratch the girl’s eyes out.
“It’s a little surprising that I got you, Miss,” said
“My name…is Miss Petrovsky,” said the young woman. “I’m on leave
from the Academy this weekend. I’m sorry, ma’am. Mrs. Wildstar isn’t home right
now. I’m house-sitting for her and Commodore Wildstar. I’m a student they
taught at the Space Fighters’ Training School. We have one other house guest,
but he’s not home right now.”
“If I may ask, where is Nova staying?”
“In the Denver Megalopolis at her parents’ house with the Commodore,
Ma’am,” said Sasha in a perfectly charming voice that somehow made Dawn look as
if she wanted to climb the walls. Dawn kept her face hidden in her hands,
somehow dreading the sight of the girl
catcing a glimpse of her face.
Somehow…Dawn both feared and hated the girl on sight, and she barely knew who she was! She couldn’t
figure out what was going on.
Nor did she want to.
Dawn was relieved when her mother terminated the call and called
Nova at the Forresters’ house. She went back to bed while
In Boulder, before going to church the next morning, indeed,
before breakfast, a happier scene was taking place while Derek stood holding
Nova, who wore pajamas in the spare bedroom as her mother Teri took some tender
pictures of her young pregnant daughter and her stomach as Derek protectively
stood with his hands around his wife’s bared stomach as she stood in her shorty
pajamas with her top half-open.
Then, as Derek kissed the back of her head, Nova asked, “Mother,
are we done yet?”
“Almost, dear,” said Teri. “I’d like to photograph you in a little
surprise outfit I prepared,” said Teri as she opened a box.
Nova blushed. “Isn’t that what you wore after you had David and
Aurora and Dad took those pictures of you feeding them? There’s hardly anything
there to wear!”
“Yes, dear, I was hoping you’d wear this in the delivery room in
the hospital…”
Nova smiled and blushed as she slipped out of her pajamas and
slipped into what was basicially a filmy, very short blouse-like nightie in
translucent white that left her bottomless. As her mother began to photograph
her again in Derek’s arms, she put a leg out and stood on tiptoe so not too
much of her lower form would be showing. Then, at Teri’s direction, Derek
gradually untied the gown, exposing a little more of Nova’s stomach and then
breasts with each shot until she stood almost naked in her open nightie. Then,
as he held her close, Derek tenderly stripped her of the nightie, where the
last few shots of her now healthy pregnant form were taken of her in the nude
in shots that made her look almost angelic. Teri almost cried when she took the
last picture, which was a spontaneous shot of Derek gently kissing Nova’s naked
tummy.
Then, a blushing Nova threw on a robe and said, “Okay if I take a
shower now, Mom?”
Teri nodded as Derek and Nova left the room.
Then, Teri sat down on the bed and began to cry. “Oh, God, my
baby’s grown up! Please, Heavens, let her have a safe delivery and give me
grandchildren!”
In the shower, as she showered, Nova herself wept as she washed
her stomach and felt her children waking up and kicking playfully within her.
Her emotions were like a rollercoaster as Derek came in afterwards with a towel
to dry her.
“Look at me,” said Nova. “One minute, I think I’m gorgeous, next
minute, I realize how damn fat I am. This is driving me crazy. My back hurts,
my feet are swelling up so much today I can barely even get my shoes on, and I
don’t know how I’m going to feel on that plane flight back home…”
Derek knew better than to say she soon wouldn’t be able to fly on
a commercial aircraft once she reached her third trimester after their trip to
Europe soon (although she could, of course, travel on a large spacecraft).
Instead, he just held Nova and said, “I don’t find you ugly. Your parents
don’t. No one does. You’re worth protecting right now…”
“I must sound really stupid,” sniffed Nova as she wiped her nose
on her forearm. Then, she got some bath tissue and blew her nose. Derek smiled
at her and continued holding her.
At
roughly the same time elsewhere in
One
of them was an old man with dirty, matted greyish-white long hair and a matted
beard in a battered, torn, and dirty ancient Naval enlisted men’s peacoat in
dark blue. The old man also wore fingerless gloves, filthy sneakers, a torn
scarf, and a black derby. He was snarling and humming to himself as he sat
drinking some booze from a dirty, chipped bottle.
The
other man looked even more eccentric. He was clothed in what looked like a very
dirty monk’s cowl in brown, and sat leaning on a rough staff. Dusty, sandalled
feet showed beneath the hem of his cowl, and a little of his sharp, pointed
nose and a forked beard showed from beneath his hood; which hid the rest of his
face. Police looked at him suspiciously because he looked a little like some
mad Josiahite, but he had none of the aggressiveness of one. In fact, in his
quiet, unostentatious way, he was known for doing kindnesses here and there for
people, and inexplicable things seemed to happen in his wake. Yet, he gave off
a definite, strange aura as someone who had a background deeper than that of a
mere wandering monk. He seemed to have an aura of being without father or
mother, and of being very mysterious. No one knew who he was, or where he came
from or dwelt.
“You
know, Boss,” said the old man in his weird, growling voice. “We’re gonna get
rousted from this spot sooner or later by the cops. Why are we hangin’ out
here, anyway?”
“Relax,
Seadragon,” said the younger man. “We have our purposes. You get around. So do
I.”
“Sayin’
you’ve been around the block, Buddy, is a major friggin’ understatement.”
The
man in the monk’s cowl nodded and he said, “You need to keep watch. There is
more going on here than even you are aware of.”
“Like
what?”
“Threads
upon threads are tying together, even now. Earth is going to be going through a
tough time soon, so do what you can, Melvin, to be able to help if you have to.
Of course, I have my own business. You know what it is and where it is.”
At
that, the two wanderers left.
The
next day, on Monday, May 3rd, back at the Space Fighters’ Training
School, Sasha prepared for the approximately two-week period of Exam Break, where
her class and the graduating Class of 2207 had two weeks’ worth of leave,
during which they would study for their exams at the end of the month.
Sasha
looked over her course schedule, making sure she had her books and notes ready
since she would soon be heading back to the Wildstar residence the next day to
begin a vacation with the family in
Sasha
looked at her Academy schedule again, which read as follows:
Recent
Military History 355 (3 credits)
Advanced Wave Motion Physics 360 (4
credits)
Intermediate Vector Analysis 375 (3
credits)
Intermediate Survey Methods and Pattern
Analysis 380 (3 credits)
Advanced Military Leadership 342 (2
credits)
Total Course Load: 15 Credits
I have a lot
of books to take, thought Sasha. Well,
at least many of these courses will have practical exams on the simulators here
at the Academy. I wonder what ship I’m going to take my summer cruise on?
Sasha
was also reading over her latest letter from Deke, which had just arrived. Part
of it read as follows:
Well, Sasha,
we’ve just arrived at Alpha Centauri today. Tomorrow, we’ll be warping on to
the area around the Voton Stars. You know, the places
where the Argo made history eight years ago now? It’s hard to beleve that
those events are so far in the past now.
I’ve also been
having bad dreams again. Horrible nightmares, really…I don’t know if I can talk
about them. Part of them are about Sasha Morningstar, that innocent woman I
told you about…the one I killed by mistake years ago in a food riot in the
underground city near San Diego? These dreams are horrible. They include Nova
and they include you, too. Just..awful…
Sasha’s
eyes begaqn to mist over as she skipped on and read; I miss you worse than ever. One night was’t enough for us. Damnit, we should have had an
entire month together, or two months…or more.
I also want to
confess to you that when I called up my old “foster mother” Lynn Westland the
other day, I got to talk to my old fiancee’ for a moment. Dawn. I told you
about her earlier in the letter and told you how we were friends in school and
how we split up. I was hoping maybe Dawn and I could at least be friends. Just friends. Not bloody likely now. We had words on the
visiphone, and not nice ones. I would rather have been talking to you…
Sasha
smiled a little through her tears as she scribbled a note on the letter that
would go into her reply. Okay, funny,
Deke. Lynn called me the other night,
wanting to talk with Nova. She got me instead because Derek and Nova, are, as we speak, on their fight back from
Sasha
smiled again as she read Deke’s unwitting reply a few lines down. It read: Sasha, I didn’t destroy Dawn’s picture, but
after that, I shoved it way down in my seabag. I don’t want to destroy it, but
I want her out of sight and out of mind….
Good Deekee, thought
Sasha with a smile.
I’ve got a lot
to do now, Sasha, said Deke in conclusion. So much with this squadron, so many flights
and patrols. I’m almost
beginning to f’ing hate the cockpit of my plane now. Take care, and I love you
and miss you, and…
Deeekkeee, thought Sasha
as she hugged the letter and began to cry. Damn,
I have to attend this live-fire demonstration later on near the firing range.
We’re supposed to be seeing this bunch of Marines that just came back from
V.
OUT OF
The
Monday:
May 4, 2207
1126
Hours: Local Time
Just
off the plane from
The
base and villages no longer existed. The 255th, in particular, had
done a very effective job of decimating the village (after losing more than
half of its men) under the twisted leadership of Lieutenant Gary Maples and
Sergeant Mick Stovall (Stovall had become the XO of what remained of the bitter
platoon). They claimed the village was a nest of Josiahites and that even the
sackcloth-clad dead women and the raggedly clad or naked children found dead in
the village were all Josiahites. Maples and Stovall had done a great job covering
up the fact that they had attacked first after a few women and children had
thrown grenades at them while they were pillaging the village and the hooches
for evidence and weapons after the battle.
“Good
job, guys,” said Maples as he addressed the eleven remaining survivors of the
255th as they stood at attention in their dirty uniforms before the
Company Area in front of their barracks. “We all got friggin’ decorated, and we
all got friggin’ leave…”
“We’re
gonna be back together again at the end of the month,” said Stovall as he
strutted around with a heavy Laser AK-160 Automatic Gun on his shoulders. “We
have this bullshit duty later today, assholes, before we get leave, though! We
have to go to the firing range at the Space Fighters’ Training School and do a fuckin’ live fire demonstration so we can make the
midshipmen in their pretty colorful little Goddamn uniforms piss their pants! You guys salty enough to make the cadets afraid of us?”
“YESSIR!”
yelled the 255th.
“I
can’t hear YOU!” yelled Stovall.
The
platoon again screamed, “YESSIR!” as some anonymous Marine from Headquarters
Company ran by in a clean uniform. He stopped and stared at the dirty combat
veterans as if he was looking at some new kind of bacteria.
“What
the Christ on a Crutch are you lookin’
at?” sneered Maples as Stovall grinned and fingered the Sphere in his pocket.
Stovall felt the familiar presence of his Dark Lord as he whispered in his
mind, “Feel no guilt, Stovall. Those were
unworthy and usless servants of Mine you greased in
“Uh…nothing,
sir,” said the HQ kid.
“You
queer for us?” said Stovall as he undid his heavy weapon. “We killed three
hundred Josiahites in
“No…Sarge..it…”
“THEM
GET THE HELL OUTTA MY SIGHT!” roared Stovall as the others clapped and jeered.
The HQ kid saluted and ran off.
“Scared
of us,” said one Private.
“He
thinks we be fucked up,” said another one.
“He
right, bro,” said a third one as they laughed and clapped.
“Guys,
there’s only one thing sweeter than the smell of bodies burning at night,”
sneered Stovall.
“What,
Sarge?” said another Marine.
“The smell of pussy, Masterson. Let’s see if
we can get some pussy at the Academy today!”
The
platoon then began to whoop and chant, “KILL, KILL, KILL, KILL, KILL!”
And,
not far away, Ekogaru was pleased. Nice
job, Stovall, he thought. Lurking in
the shadows was great for a time. Now, we will start forming our “new breed”—in
the ranks of the Earth Defense Forces ourselves! Give us time, and we can make
a fit new seat of my Empire out of this stinking little planet. The Cometines
are failing me. Invidia is losing. We need new blood. Yes, new…blood….
VI.
A
A
Far Edge of the Great Magellenic Cloud
The
Geratz System
The
Vicinity of Planet Geratz VIII
Monday:
May 4, 2207
1300
Hours: Standard Earth Space-Time
Garuman-Gamilon
General Dagon’s forces were in heavy battle with a large Cometine fleet that
was trying to penetrate through to a Gamilon base world called Geratz VII that
guarded the approaches to the Gamilon factory planet and commercial center of
Peralta, a major planet in this part of the Great Magellenic Cloud. Dagon had
drawn up his lines near Geratz VIII, a world that Desslok and Talan had told
him was expendable, so far as they were now concerned. The eighth planet was
worthless. They wanted to keep the seventh.
On
the bridge of his new flagship, the Garuman-designed space battleship Vatranka, Dagon was in a good mood.
We are not
doing too badly, so far, thought Dagon. We
have defeated them at Pogi. Of course, they regrouped and came here. Today,
they shall truly feel Gamilon’s wrath yet again as we prepare a second test of
Desslok’s great new weapons…a test that Desslok says must not fail, this time…
“Sir!” said an
officer on Dagon’s flagship as he stood near the General’s command seat. “Enemy Fleet approaching at full battle speed! Twenty space
destroyers, ten space battleships, ten missile ships, and five spacecraft
carriers. Fleet identified as Cometine, sir.”
“Course
of action, General?” said a staff officer in grey who snapped a salute.
“Order
the cruisers and destroyers to throw up a screen; prepare carriers to launch
fighters to intercept any planes from the enemy fleet. Lure them into orbit of
Geratz VIII. Keep back our second element until we are sure they have taken our
bait,” said Dagon with a smile.
“Yessir!”
snapped the Gamilon staff officer with a hearty salute.
“General,
enemy fleet commander is calling us,” said Dagon’s comm officer.
“Put
the idiot on the screen and let’s see what he wants,” yawned Dagon.
The
comm officer nodded.
Five
of the space battleships with the Cometine fleet were black, shiny, and
nasty-looking. The fleet commander was a Black Nebulan commander named Admiral
Vilzer, a bald, scornful sort whom Invidia had talked into service as Gernitz’s
right-hand man and hatchet man. His flagship, the Black Nebulan space
battleship Helandes, was the largest
ship in the squadron. It was from his bridge that he sent a scornful message to
Dagon’s flagship.
“So, you are the great General Dagon?” hissed
Vilzer in a venomous voice.
“I
am,” said Dagon. “And what is it to you?”
“Long
have I been waiting to speak to you,” said Vilzer. “The Princess calls on my
people in her hour of need and we gladly answer the call, having signed a
treaty of friendship with her race some time ago. I am Admiral Vilzer, late of
the Black Nebula. Many of my people suffered genocide in a great accident right
before we were able to carry out our long-range plans for Gamilon, Iscandar,
and Earth, plans that Zordar and Invidia had approved in conference with our
Great Leader; with the plans for Earth to go on only if Zordar’s efforts
failed. Gamilon was to have been mined. Iscandar was to have been captured and
pillaged. And the Terran Race on Earth was to have their brain matter destroyed
by a Hyperon Bomb so that we could take over their growing, fecund little
bodies. We never got to carry out the Master Plan, sadly. It would have been
great. But your death shall serve as a nice consolation prize for the honor of
the Black Nebulan People and the Greater Cometine Empire House of Gatlantis and
the Greater Empire. How do you want to die, Dagon?”
“I
don’t intend to die at all,” replied Dagon.
“I
thought not,” sniffed Vilzer. “You look like a very obstinate sort. Well, makes
things better when we go to battle, hm? Like right now?”
Dagon’s screen
went black as the heavy battleship Helandes
immediately opened up with all of her turrets.
The
fire was heavy and devastating, and it roared into the Gamilon ranks without
mercy.
Destroyers
and cruisers were hit and blown to bits as the energy ripped through them.
“Fleet
hard about!” yelled Dagon. “Return fire in Formation Vaga! Get those heavy
enemy units!”
At
the same time, the pure Cometine ships opened up with their heavy shock
cannons, with their beams surrounding several Gamilon battleships in deadly
cyclones, crushing them before they could bring their weapons to bear.
“Launch
attack boats from the carriers!” snapped Vilzer. “I want their carriers turned
into space trash! And assume orbit about the planet!”
“Yessir,”
said Vilzer’s exec with a snappy salute. “Launching fighter
craft! Preparing second salvo at enemy battleships!”
Vilzer
nodded as the Helandes fired again.
More
Gamilons died.
It
did not look good for Dagon.
“The battle is
not going well, General!” said one of Dagon’s staff officers as his flagship
was battered about by near-misses.
Still,
the mighty Gamilon space battleship Vetranka
cruised on, the ship and crew confident in their ability to take damage and
keep on fighting.
“How
bad is it?” said Dagon as he finished a drink.
“We
have lost about fifty percent of the fleet, sir. It will be hard to take them
ship by ship. Hard but not impossible.”
“Only
if we have to,” said Dagon as he lowered his glass.
“So
what do we do?” said the XO.
“Well,
then,” said Dagon. “Strategic retreat, evacuate the area! Order
second element to take position and to prepare to fire spread of three proton
missiles at my mark in eighty seconds. Have them hold our fourth one in
reserve in case we need it.”
“Yessir,”
said Dagon’s XO. He stepped away from his command seat, picked up a mike, and
said, “All Gamilon-Garuman units, first element, strategic retreat seven
hundred gerad distance,
ready warp! Second element, bring first three proton missiles to bear, hold
fourth for other use. Targets, equator and northern
hemisphere of planet. Backlash of planetary destruction should eliminate
enemy fleet!”
“Helm,
adjusting fifty degrees port!” snapped one officer.
“Locking
down main guns and closing offensive systems,” said another officer in his
helmet.
“Changing
energy pathways,” said the engineer.
“Send
final codes to fleet, intership,” snapped Dagon.
“Yessir,”
said the XO. “Communications, relay orders to the fleet! Send them under
ciphers!”
“Orders
acknowledged,” said the helmeted Garuman officer. “Transmitting
codes to all elements of fleet under Cipher V-625!”
“Very well,”
said another officer.
A
moment later, as it was preparing to warp, Dagon’s flagship took a direct hit.
“Damnit!” yelled Dagon as fire and arcs
blew about his bridge.
“Still
able to warp but we took damage, sir!” said his XO.
“Warp
us out of here then! NOW!” yelled Dagon.
“It’ll
look like we’re fleeing,” said the XO.
“I’m
not worried about that now!” snapped Dagon. “I want to be there at the end when
we get them! That is the whole damned point of this battle, rubbing my boot in
their faces as those inferior green goblins and plastic machine people all die
before the might of our Empire!”
“Yessir,”
said Dagon’s XO.
“Admiral! They’re
warping!” said a staff officer of Vilzer’s.
“They’re
up to some sort of game! Warp us out on the same course,
leave the battle to General Haga on the Cometine flagship in second squadron. I
want the Gamilon snake to die under my own guns so I can bear the tale to
Invidia,” said Vilzer. “The reat of them….oh…Gernitz will soon be here with a
surprise for them, yes. Ready warp,
ten seconds…”
The
orders went out to the Cometines, who responded as Vilzer and his staff began
to ready their space warps…
A
moment later, Vilzer and his group went into warp…
“All
surving ships of first element now clear of battle area!” snapped Dagon’s XO as
his flagship came out of warp behind his proton missile ships.
Dagon nodded.
“Proton missiles, fire!”
Soon,
the ships of Dagon’s fleet fired with a deadly efficiency as three of the
massive projectiles roared towards Geratz VIII while Vilzer’s group had just
gone into hyperspace nearby. The fourth Garuman ship holding a proton missile
slowed down and held back, holding its missile for any backup actions that
would be needed.
The
Cometines looked shocked as their deaths approached in big, black, and deadly
fashiom, the missiles squashing some of their ships as they roared relentlessly
into the rocky, abandoned planet and impacted into it.
A
moment later, space nearby went very bright as the planet blew apart in a
wonderfully deadly fashion.
The
whole Cometine fleet went with it…except for Vilzer’s battleship squadron.
Vilzer
and his men gasped as hyperspace, distorted by the sudden loss of the nearby
gravity well of Geratz VIII, turned mad and almost sucked his fleet into
nothingness before some other force spat his ships out somewhere in some
unknown location they couldn’t map, with many of the Black Nebulans’ computer
systems on fire.
One
way or another, Vilzer was out of the battle and the war…at least for the time
being.
And
he was not happy about it.
Gernitz
and the Devastation and her fifty
escorts warped in to the vicinity of Geratz VII to discover the fading
explosion of what had been Geratz VIII.
A
moment later, his fleet was surrounded by a bunch of very angry Gamilons over
the Garuman-Gamilon base world of Geratz VII as Dagon and the surviving elements
of his fleet warped in quite suddenly.
Gernitz
laughed. “This is amusing! Comm officer, connect me to their commander!”
“Yessir,”
said the comm officer.
A
moment later, Dagon’s XO, who was named Gelantz, said, “General
Dagon…sir…they’re calling from that…uh…big…black…ugly…thing…”
“Do
not worry, Gelantz! I have no fear of
them! We fight for Leader Desslok to the end! Open the channel!”
“Opening
channel,” said the comm officer in a shaking voice.
Gernitz’s
elegant bald, demonic-looking, bearded visage came on Dagon’s main screen a
moment later. He was transmitting from the smaller
“Dagon,
Gernitz. You were at Melezart, I recall. We nearly got you then. You are very
persistent. Care to try again?”
“Ahh…you puny idiots. You think you
can finish me off with those
antiques?”
“I
have something left up my sleeve you may not like,” said Dagon with a confident
smile. “And I am done talking with you.”
Dagon
made a slashing motion and said, “Gelantz?”
“Yessir.”
“We
need hold the fort for only a short time. Good thing I had foresight. Order our
fourth proton missile to come to bear and fire at my mark…target…that
thing.”
“Yessir,”
said Gelantz with a salute as his arm came up…”
Then,
all around them, space turned into a blasting hell as the Cometine Dreadnought Devastation let loose a deranged salvo
into their midst.
“First
salvo completed!” barked an officer on his
“Second set of
turrets on aft portion of ship ready to bear!” snapped another officer.
“Fire!”
barked Gernitz.
“Firing!”
said another one of his men.
“Damage
from first salvo: destroyed eight Gamilon destroyers, four missile cruisers,
two heavy cruisers, one battleship.”
“Small
ship manuvering at rear of fleet,” said another officer.
“Get
it,” said Gernitz with a wicked smile.
“Bringing
guns to bear…”
“Sir!”
said another officer. “Heavy fleet appeared behind Gamilon fleet.
Identification, Cometine by their IFF signals!”
Gernitz
laughed. “Have them sandwich their fleet, and have them…”
“Yessir,”
said the comm officer. Then, he began to sweat. “Cometine
fleet refusing to acknowledge our hails, sir.”
“What?”
said Gernitz.
“Refusing
all signals, refusing all orders, but, sir, voice message coming in. In code.”
“What
is it?” said Gernitz in annoyance.
“Decoding
now…I…”
“Sir!”
said the radar officer. “Fleet identified! Forty space battleships, twenty
missile ships, four carriers, one Dreadnought. Color scheme,
Blue XP-25. Not vessels from House Gatlantis, sir…”
“Playing
message,” said the sweating comm officer.
A
low, amused laugh filled the bridge. “Gernitz. I am
sure you remember me. You spat on me when Zordar expelled me from his ranks?”
“Ra..Radnar?” said
Gernitz. “You come to join me?”
“No,
heretic,” said Radnar as, too late, an image of the main siege cannon on his Dreadnought, the Purification, came on the battle bridge
of the Devastation. “I come to bury you, Gernitz. The Grand Emperor has
had quite enough of the Leadership of House Gatlantis. He has empowered me to
make some changes. Invidia will soon follow you into perdition, Friend Gernitz.
I hope you have a wonderfully slow
death, heretic and atheist! Good-Bye!”
On
the main bridge of his Dreadnought, being careful not to hit a single Gamilon
ship, Radnar nodded and whispered “FIRE!”
Flaming death
roared out of his siege cannon at
only a few megameters’ range in just one shot.
Before
Gernitz could react, the energy surge blasted efficiently right into the very
midsection of the Devastation.
A
great flower of energy and fire formed, blasting out of the guts of the dying
Dreadnought before a startled Dagon’s eyes as the blast roared up into the ship
and outwards to Gernitz’s fleet.
Desytroyers,
mssile ships, battleships, carriers, all of them died as Gernitz trembled as
his arrogant black ship began to, at last, come apart.
At
last, at long last, this vile servant of Invidia’s was finally defeated.
“Hold
us together!” Gernitz yelled as he struck one of his officers.
“Nothing
we can do, sir, I…AAAAAAAAAAA!” roared an officer as the bridge began to
explode.
Radnar’s
Dreadnought fired again at the dying Gatantean fleet, making sure that nothing was
left of it but wreckage as the remaining magna-energy surge blasted into a cold
area on Planet Geratz VII. Luckily, for the Gamilons, their base was not
affected.
But, Gernitz’s
ship certainly was.
Gernitz
went blind as magna-energy finally filled his bridge, burning him mortally
through his uniform as he turned into a human torch.
Not
that it mattered much.
Finally,
Gernitz screamed and roared helplessly as his ship turned into a boiling hell
around him.
Then, he and his ship dissloved into
nothing.
Invidia’s
vile henchman and long-time executioner and mass murderer was
finally dead.
“Not
bad,” said Tendor on the Purifcation.
“All
destroyed?” asked Radnar.
“Yessir,”
said Tendor.
“Perfect hit. Arishna has
blessed us! My Dreadnought has finally beaten that atheist’s Dreadnought!”
Radndar smiled. “Now, open a channel to that Gamilon fleet. I wonder if they
have wet themselves in this display of the spirit of Arishna?
Well, no problem, I must reassure them I mean them no harm. I want a conference
with Desslok, you see.”
“Sir,”
said Gelantz aboard Dagon’s flagship. “The Proton Missile ship Harag begs, for the fifth time,
permission to fire at that second
Cometine Dreadnought!”
Dagon
shook his head. “Hard to believe, they got their own ship. But
why.”
“Then
let’s finish them, sir!” said Gelantz.
“Not
until I figure out what is going on,” said Dagon. “Listen. A second fleet
emerged from warp-space, we prepared to attack both fleets in what would have been
one last glorious fight, but, instead, second fleet fires at Gernitz’s fleet
and ignores us. They also have a
different paint scheme than the others. All those ships are light blue. Why?
And why are the Cometines suddenly fighting each other? I’d love to…”
“General,”
said Dagon’s comm officer. “The surviving Dreadnought is hailing us.”
“Good.
Open the channel,” replied Dagon.
Graphic: Radnar. From the First Comico Star
Blazers Comic © 1987 by Doug Rice
A moment
later, an old, white-bearded green face came up on the main screen of Dagon’s
battleship. “Greetings, Gamilon General. Your name, please?”
“Dagon.
What is your name and whom do you serve? Explain promptly. We have
little time for this. Your gun has set fire to a forest on that world below us.”
“Not
the atheist Invidia,” replied Radnar in his deep voice. “I have been sent by
the Cometine Grand Emperor as a result of Desslok’s declaration at the Melezart
peace conference a few weeks ago. As simply as I can put it in haste, Princess
Invidia is no longer in favor in the higher ranks of our people’s nation in
Andromeda. Desslok unearthed news that Zordar had prounounced him Heir of House
Gatlantis before he died? And not Invidia. Invidia was
thus ordered to abdicate to allow your Leader Desslok to assume his new station
in our ranks as the new Prince of Gatlantis and an allied leader. Invidia
refused. We were ordered, this, to go to war with her. You might call it a
civil war in our ranks. But we will eventually win. As I have accepted this and
have sworn to the Emperor to serve whom we recognize as the new Prince Desslok
in the Andromeda regions as his Regent over Gatlantis, we now, basicially, are
on the same side and serve the same Leader. I propose a truce and alliance to
finish off Invidia. We’ve a good idea of her plans, you see. I have spies in
her ranks under her nose that report to me. As part of my good faith, I have
technical readouts of the Eritz Gatlantis to offer to Desslok. When can he and I get together to speak, Dagon?”
“I
cannot grant this myself. You will have to speak to Leader Desslok. However, we
don’t trust you at all after Melezart. Not as far as we could throw you.”
“Then,
I pray, give me the frequency to contact him on Gamilon, or contact his
flagship.”
“His
flagship is in the general area. I would never
tell you where Gamilon is,” huffed Dagon. “We will send you the frequency to
contact his flagship, if you stand down and remain in orbit here under my guns.
Take a single aggressive action and we finish
you, green Cometine monster.”
Radndar
gritted his teeth at the insults, but he said, “As you wish, Dagon, it shall
be. Please send us that frequency.”
Dagon
nodded. “All right…we are sending it…”
“Thank
you,” said Radnar.
VII.
RADNAR’S GAME CONTINUES
A Far
Edge of the Great Magellenic Cloud
The
Geratz System
The
Vicinity of Planet Geratz VIII
Monday:
May 4, 2207
1800
Hours: Standard Earth Space-Time
Leader Desslok
was in space, a few hundred lightyears away, conducting trials of his massive
new flagship Excelsior with his fleet
when the message from Dagon came in.
“Dagon?”
said Desslok. “What do you have to report from Geratz?”
“Success,
Leader Desslok. Even though I had to destroy Geratz VIII with some proton
missiles, at long last, we have won a major victory here. I drove off a Black
Nebulan commander named Vilzer in defeat and disgrace and we destroyed most of
his fleet. Also, we defeated Gernitz and his Dreadnought at long last, with
some…ahh…rather unexpected help.”
“Unexpected?”
replied Desslok.
“Yes.
We received…aid…from another Cometine general. A man with a
beard and long hair by the name of Radnar, sir.”
“Radnar?”
chuckled Desslok. “We have heard rumor that the
Cometines have been fighting each other…but Radnar was cast out long ago by
Zordar. He must surely be dead.”
“I
spoke with him, sir,” said dagon. “In fact, his
Dreadnought finished off Gernitz’s own Dreadnought.”
“Why?”
said Desslok.
“He
said, sir, that Invidia has fallen into disfavor. He said
that his superiors in Andromeda have decided to recognize you as the new
commander of House Gatlantis. Invidia’s own people, it seems, want her to stop
her war. They want her dead. Radnar asked for the Command Frequency, and said
he will contact you, and…”
Desslok
began to laugh. Then, he said, “Dagon, have you been drinking?”
“No,
sir…I have not been…”
Desslok
raised his hand. “Let us see what Radnar has to say to us. I will await his
message.”
Dagon
saluted, and the transmission ended.
Strange, thought
Desslok.
Let us see if this will truly lead to
anything. I will not meet face-to-face with him, though. Not yet. Not after
Melezart.
END.
TO BE
CONTINUED WITH BOOK SEVEN: “The Princess And the
Surfer”
To Return to the Introduction to The New Comet, click here