ALTERNATE TALES OF THE STAR FORCE

STAR BLAZERS---THE ROAD TO PELLIAS

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

ACT ONE--THE JOURNEY CONTINUES

I. YET MORE MEMORIES

The Dalkrandia System

Space Battleship Argo

Aft Observation Deck

Tuesday, January 12, 2202

1902 Hours-space-time

Commander Mark Venture stood alone on the aft observation deck, his mind lost in the past.

Trelaina, he thought. It must be my unique accursed destiny. Why must so much of this journey remind me of you?

He closed his eyes again. "It seems like yesterday, really. There we were, together, and then you sent me back to my duties. Twice, you did that to me. Now, someone else is calling to Paul Rosstowski. She says she loves him. Should I be happy for him, or should I warn him away?"

"And what about me?" he said out loud. "Should I remember you forever, or should I move on? How should I handle this?"

Mark, said a quiet voice in his mind. Mark!

Venture looked up, and looked out at the stars.

Then, his eyes widened as an outline began to appear.

"Trelaina!" he said in awe.

"Yes, Mark," replied the ghostly vision. "I can be here for you, but not for long. I have watched over you, but it has been decreed that I must pass on and embrace the destiny that awaits me."

"Then…you have?"

"As you know it, Mark, I have passed on, yes," she said sadly. "I can be with you for a short time. I told Nova and Derek that a part of me would remain with you, them, and with Earth. As I must pass on, that part of me must be memories…and the example I left."

"I thought you loved me," sobbed Mark.

"Oh, I do, my darling. No one can have a greater love than to lay down his life for his friends…or for hers. Had I not given my life, you would not now be alive, nor would your Earth be free."

"Trelaina," he said with closed eyes.

"Do you remember the night you met your friend at Heroes' Hill…when you were thinking of me? My voice was the one which told you to look at her, and to look on."

"Why?"

"Because we cannot be together again for a long, long time. You have your destiny; I have mine. And she is beginning to care for you, Mark."

"Holly?" he asked.

Trelaina smiled softly and nodded.

"It's not…well…decent. Not so soon, Trelaina."

"Take as much time as you need. Nova and Derek took time. But please don't take forever. Neither of you have that long. And, Mark..."

"Yes?"

"Do not begrudge Paul and Aliscea their destiny. They must walk a different path than we did. In some ways, it will be a harder path. But, she does not mean to hurt him, as I did not mean to hurt you. You must be strong, Mark. For yourself. For Earth. For Holly, and for Captain Wildstar."

"Derek?"

"Derek will soon pass through a painful test of his own. You will have to be there for him. I cannot say more."

"Thank you, Trelaina," said Mark. He looked hard at her and sighed. "So…this is?"

"Goodbye, Mark. At least for now. At least…for what you call this life."

He shut his eyes again. "Goodbye…Trelaina," he said in a deep voice that was about to crack.

"Mark, please do not mourn forever," said Trelaina's soft voice. "That is my final request to you. Look on…and live. Farewell, Mark. I do love you."

Venture stood there for a long time with his eyes closed. When he opened them again, space was empty. She was gone.

Venture bowed his head and saluted. "Goodbye, Trelaina. He looked out at the stars for a moment and then said, "Wherever she has gone, please care for her. And, please grant me strength. I'm going to need it…to live with this."

Everything was silent for a time. Then, the doors whizzed open.

"Holly…uh...how are you?" smiled Venture.

"Fine. Are you all right, Mark?"

"I'm fine."

"Good. I was sent to look for you. Some people are worried."

"Like whom?'

"Like…Nova…and like me."

"Well, I'm quite all right," he smiled. "I was up here watching the stars; a little after-dinner treat."

"The noodles were horrible today; weren't they?"

"Yeah. I could use some good Italian food, Holly. I miss it. What do you think of those stars?"

"It looks like we're on the edge of a nebula."

"We are. It could make navigation difficult."

"But it is pretty to look at; isn't it?"

"It is, Holly. It sure is."

"Mind if I watch with you for a while?"

"No, not at all. I think I'd rather like it," smiled Mark.

Holly stood beside him. "That Lieutenant Tyson was quite a tease back there on Triton; wasn't she? Quite a kidder?"

"She sure was," said Mark.

"Do you think…?"

"Think what?" smiled Mark.

Holly blushed. "She said…we made a lovely couple. Isn't that…silly?"

"Well," said Venture during a long pause. "Maybe…maybe, it's not quite as…"

The klaxons suddenly began to go off. "All hands to battle stations! All hands to battle stations! Unknown vessel approaching! Approaching at high…"

Mark and Holly looked at each other and then stood aghast as a three blinding blue energy blasts whizzed in past the yardarm, missing the Argo by just a few meters.

"Damn!" snapped Venture. "Those look like beams from an Earth vessel!"

"I think we're about to meet some so-called friends," replied Holly.

Together, they ran off.

As they ran on and on towards the bridge, the enemy vessel fired again. This time, the shots came in closer…but they were still misses.

However, they were near misses.

Near misses that were far too close for comfort.

II. A HIT-AND-RUN RAID

The Dalkrandia System

Space Battleship Potemkin

First Bridge

January 12, 2202

1936 Hours-space-time

"We've got her on radar, Prophetess," said a young, scarred man in rags at the cosmo-radar of the otherwise new space battleship Potemkin. The battleship, like the rebuilds and new construction of her mates of the Jamaica class, now had a full set of bridge stations and controls like those of the Andromeda class.

"What is her speed?" asked Yvona Josiah, who as leader of her cult, had taken for herself the torn jacket, belt, and cap of Captain Ivan Petronovich, the commander of the Potemkin. Her cultists had killed him at his desk while he had been doing paperwork aboard his new command.

"Twenty-four," said the radar officer, who was named Dan Conklin. At least he had been in his previous life. He now called himself Caleb.

"What is her maximum speed now, Jared?" demanded Yvona of her second-in-command of the cult.

"You mean her possible maximum speed, Prophetess?" asked the former EDF officer, who now wore fatigues.

"Yes, the speed of the Argo. The speed of the ship we just fired upon, you idiot!" she snapped.

"You know, ma'am, we've just declared war on Earth for sure with this move," said the ship's XO, a religious fanatic named Rey Haverford who shared some of the cult's aims. Although not a cult member, he had allowed a few separatists within his ship's crew to help him and Yvona's cult gain control of the ship. "This isn't wise. Chicago was a good move, but we should be looking for a new planet to set up our perfect society on, not tweaking the nose of the greatest battleship that Earth has."

"I want a provocation!" snapped Yvona. "I want a battle, and I want my niece killed! She's on that ship, the little trollop!"

"Is this a reason for an attack? This ship had an honorable name once-named after a famed space battleship lost in 2193…"

"Ma'am, the Argo's coming about," said Caleb. "Speed…twenty-five."

"I've heard she might have been refitted with an Andromeda-class engine. We're outgunned, and she can outrun us, and she has planes," said Haverford. "You had Joshua fire the guns twice to harass her. We've made our point, Prophetess! I advise you to withdraw. I said this ship had an honorable name, once. Well, we've disgraced that name forever, now. Stop this!"

A moment later, three beams roared in towards the stolen battleship.

"Evasive!" snapped Haverford. The Potemkin rolled over to avoid the first barrage from the Argo.

"They're launching planes," said a young woman with the cult name of Naomi who was now the ship's tactical radar officer. She had an EDF officer who had resigned her commission six months ago under questionable circumstances; the reason for her resignation lay crying on her knee as she worked and tried to nurse the child through the tattered macramé' vest she wore above her tattered skirt. "Looks like there's one squadron coming at us from RGH-123…and I have six more blips coming in from RGI-103."

"Fire one more barrage, Joshua!" snapped Yvona. "Then, warp us out of here, Haverford!"

"Fire main guns!" ordered Joshua, who was the ship's new combat group leader. He was the officer who had gotten Naomi pregnant and he had resigned under threat of a court-martial, as had Naomi.

The Potemkin's guns fired again. The bridge crew cheered as a close-up picture on the quad screen showed a rosette of fire blowing out of the Argo's port side above the third bridge.

A moment later, the Potemkin herself shook from a hit. A member of Hardy's squadron had just pumped a missile into the ship.

"Ma'am, our port side launch tube's been hit," said Noah, the ship's Mechanical Group Leader. He was an old EDF man who had been cashiered in 2198 for insanity during the Gamilon War. The ship shook again. "The wave gun director's been hit."

"Yeah," said Bryan Hartcliffe outside in his Tiger as he flew over the ship's bow. "Got ya where it hurts, mate!"

"Haverford, get us out of here," said Yvona.

"Main engine, power up to 120%," said Haverford. "Release the overrides again…we can risk it" snapped the officer as he sat down at the helm. "All hands, prepare for warp in sixty seconds."

On the Argo, Captain Wildstar said, "Dash, call in the Black Tigers. Orion, stop all engines. I'm ending this game fast, and I'm ending it now."

"Yessir," said Orion. "Stop all engines."

The Argo's engines stopped.

"Orion, transfer all energy to the wave motion gun."

"Aye," said Orion.

"Forty-five seconds to warp," said Haverford. "All hands, secure for warp!"

"Yes, we're getting away," smiled Yvona. "Nova, I hope you're dead. I hope you were in the part of the ship we hit. I hope you're frozen meat in space, you little creep."

"Course and speed unchanged," said Nova from her post. "She's still coming right for us."

"Dash, release the safety lock," said Derek over the increasing whine of the wave motion gun.

"Releasing safety lock," said Dash.

"Energy level is at sixty percent," said Orion. "Sixty-five percent!"

"Twenty seconds to warp," said Haverford. "Yvona, strap yourself in, for God's sake!"

"God will protect me," smiled Yvona from her seat. Beneath their view, she tied herself down with a hank of rope.

"Power level is at eighty percent," said Orion.

"All hands, ready anti-flash goggles," said Captain Wildstar as he pulled his own goggles on.

"We'll be ready to fire in twenty seconds," said Dash.

"three…two…one," said Haverford. "Just in time...warp!"

The Potemkin faded away in a blast of multicolored light.

"Power level is at ninety percent!" said Orion.

"What?" cried Nova. She stared hard at her radar through her goggles. "Derek! They're off my scope! They've warped!"

"What? Dash! Orion! Abort firing sequence!"

The roar of the Argo's wave gun suddenly went silent.

"Warp completed," said Haverford as the Potemkin faded back into existence near Barnard's Star. "Prophetess! What's the big…"

"Silence!" screamed Yvona as she began to beat their ship's helmsman with her staff. "I didn't give you the order to warp us out of there! You do that again, and I'll have you crucified, you fool! IDIOT! Blasphemer! Scum! You are all scum!" screamed Yvona. "SCUM!"

The scuttlebutt I heard is right! thought Haverford. She is crazy. Ungrateful witch! I just saved our lives!

"No sign of the Potemkin," said Nova few minutes later. "Captain, they're out of the sector altogether. They're gone."

"We almost had them," snapped Derek. "Damn!" he said as he banged his console with both fists.

"Well, now I know one thing," said Dash.

"What's that?" asked Venture.

"Now I think I know how Desslok felt all those times he didn't get us," said Dash as he took off his goggles.

"Speaking of him," said Wildstar. "Homer, did you ever have any success raising him?"

"No, sir. All the Gamilon frequencies are quiet."

"Hmm," said Nova. "I'm picking up something floating towards us. Switching to video panel."

The panel switched, and the crew stared open-mouthed at the wreckage. "Gamilon destroyers!" said Venture.

Wildstar shut his eyes and then studied the wreckage. "Three of them. Nova, scan the area for anything larger."

"Yessir," she said.

"Maybe if we send someone out to recover their flight recorders we could find out what happened," said Sandor. "We did it once before on the way to Iscandar, remember?'

"Yes, when we wanted to confirm that our delayed action rockets got the tanker on Beemira," recalled Wildstar. "It was one heck of a job translating their technical data, but…"

"There's no other wrecks in the area," said Nova.

"Dash, send out an assault boat escorted by two fighters," said Captain Wildstar. "Sandor, get IQ-9 up here. We need him to scan for one of those Gamilon black boxes."

"Yessir," said both men.

A while later, IQ-9 was at the Analysis station, scanning space near the wreckage. "One flight recorder found at RPG-231," he said.

"Homer, tell the boat to head towards RPG-231," said Derek.

"Roger," said Homer. He transmitted the order, and the boat went out and made its pickup.

"Captain, they're on their way back," said Homer a few minutes later.

"Good."

"Wildstar, it's going to take us a while to analyze the results from that black box," said Sandor. "As a matter of fact, we may not have results until tomorrow evening."

"If I can ask, why would it take so long?" asked Rosstowski.

"Well, it's because the data contained in that recorder is going to be in the Gamilon language," said Sandor. "What's more, it'll also be coded so that random parties can't just read their data and learn about their fleet units. Luckily, we do have experience in decoding Gamilon ciphers and codes from the war, and we have a program which can decode their language. But, this'll take some time. Hence, it probably won't be ready until tomorrow."

"Tomorrow," said Dash. "How close are we going to be to Pellias tomorrow?"

"If all goes well, about another one hundred and fifty lightyears closer," said Venture.

"Then we'll be halfway to that planet," mused Derek. "I wonder what we'll find then?"

"Can't we discuss this over dinner tomorrow night?" suggested Nova. "Derek, we haven't had a Captain's table discussion yet on this voyage."

"It's been so short, Nova," said Derek. "And the last time we had such a discussion, we were halfway to Telezart."

"You'll pardon me, sir, I'm a little lost," said Rosstowski.

"Me, too," said Parsons. "I haven't been on the bridge on this mission…I've heard those dinners are for the top officers? And what do you do?"

"It's a tradition Captain Avatar started on the cruise to Iscandar," explained Derek. "We had our first one in 2200 when we were almost at Balan, our halfway point to Iscandar. I had another one in October of last year when we were halfway to Telezart. At that sort of dinner, we eat together, and it's sort of a round-table discussion. The usual bridge crew is invited, along with Doctor Sane, the Chaplain, the Flight Group Leader, and any other Group Leaders. Of course, Hemsford would be there, too."

The bridge doors whizzed open and Doctor Sane came in. "I overheard the conversation. I believe we're having a Captain's Table tomorrow night?"

"Yes, provided we don't have any more battles," said Captain Wildstar. "Of course, we can break out whatever vintage of wine you've got stored up. For medicinal purposes, of course."

"Yes, for medicinal purposes," smiled Sane.

"I'll see to the preparations," said Nova.

III. AT THE CAPTAIN'S TABLE

System XL-5

Space Battleship Argo

Aft Observation Deck

Wednesday, January 13, 2202

1934 Hours-space-time

"Well, we're all here," said Derek the next evening as he sat at the head of a long table in the Argo's main messhall. The table was covered with white linen, and a mess steward was pouring him a glass of wine. Venture sat at his right, while Nova sat at his left. Captain Wildstar looked a little uncomfortable; he had remembered tradition and was sitting at the table with his cap on, for once. Nova smiled at him as the steward poured her wine. Now you really look like the Captain that you are, Derek! she thought.

Derek smiled and said, "Everyone…I'd say that, given the past twenty-four hours, that's something of an accomplishment that we're all still here."

"Was there really a sub around at 1300?" asked Conroy, who had reassumed command of the Flight Group this morning.

"The time radar said so," said Nova. "But by the time we came to stations, it was gone."

"Was it R'Khell?" asked Hemsford.

Captain Wildstar nodded.

"Told you we could never trust those suckers, sir," said the big Marine. He reached up to his knitted head covering for a moment.

Conroy looked on with some interest. "If I can ask, what's that?'

"My head covering," said Hemsford. "I don't wear it all the time, just now and then for these formal things. It's a Muslim thing, you see."

"Okay…thanks," smiled Conroy.

"Don't be embarrassed, son," said Rabbi Greenberg, the ship's Chaplain. "I'm sure you've probably had questions about this thing on my head," he said, pointing at his yarmulke.

"Well, I know it's a yarmulke," said Conroy.

"Where's yours?" whispered Dash to Homer with a good-natured elbow.

"I only pull mine out during High Holy Days," said Homer with a smile.

"You know, that almost sounds perverse," said Dash.

"What?" asked Homer.

"Just the way you said it," chuckled Dash.

"Isn't anything sacred to you?" demanded Homer.

"Hey, I don't take this so seriously," said Dash. "I left my faith back in the underground cities when the bombs started to fall, hating to sound cynical, of course."

"So what did you get raised as when you were a child?" asked Rosstowski.

"Don't want to get into it," shrugged Dash. "I mean, didn't half of our problems in the past few days come from religion in some form or another? And shouldn’t we cut this out?"

"Right," said Rabbi Greenberg. "Now, I'm sure no one here believes in forcing someone to convert to his or her beliefs by force, or in killing in the name of their beliefs. We know Yvona and her cult hates everyone who is not a White Anglo-Saxon Protestant of their belief system, which is a warped form of Christianity."

"A strange, sick form of Christianity where Yvona is the new herald of the Messiah, or so they believe," said Nova.

"Just let me finish making this point, sir," said Greenberg. "They consider the rest of us to be heretics, heretics worthy of death, both because of our beliefs and because Earth took aid from aliens like Starsha, Trelaina, and Desslok. Likewise, the R'Khells surely believe in killing in their name of their faith, which seems to be some polytheistic worship of some war god. Captain Wildstar, don't the Rikashans believe in the same thing?"

"Yes, but I'm not sure that Cha'rif is as fanatical as the others…yet. At any rate, I don't think his truce is holding out. It could be that the R'Khells were after us again. The Time Radar transmission showed that they fired a big spread of torpedoes…"

"But was it at us?" asked Sandor.

"You've got a point," said Wildstar.

"And surely Yvona and the R'Khells can't be working together," said Venture. "Their beliefs seem to be diametrically opposed to each other."

"It's been quiet for the past day," said Derek. "We'll keep our eyes open, but shouldn't we drink a toast for a peaceful trip to Pellias?"

Everyone nodded. Their glasses went up. Nova reached over and clinked glasses with Derek.

Everyone called out, "A toast to a successful mission!" and then drank.

A moment later, Royster and IQ-9 came in.

"Yes?" asked Derek as he turned around.

"Sir, Sandor…we've finished analyzing the Gamilon flight recorder. Would you follow us?"

"Thanks, Sergeant. Good food," said Derek with an apologetic glance at the steward. "All right, dinner's over, everyone. Sandor, Venture, Conroy, Nova, follow us. The rest of you, return to your posts and relieve the duty crews. Rosstowski, you're the Officer of the Deck for tonight. Get some coffee and take your post now."

"Yessir," he said with a confident salute.

"Nova," said IQ-9 as he trundled up.

"Yes?" she asked.

"Too bad you didn't wear that dress to dinner. It looked really nice on you."

"Is this supposed to be a compliment?" she asked.

"Well, your legs are gorgeous."

"Uhmm…yeah," said Nova with a deep blush, wishing for a moment that she had on a pair of bellbottoms. Preferably very loose ones. "Don't we have somewhere to go?"

"I'll go through those doors for you and open them."

"I think that's the Captain's job," replied Nova as she pointedly took Derek's arm. "Come on…"

"Party-pooper," said IQ-9 in his tinny voice.

"You mind cooling it?" snapped Derek. "Sheeesh!" he said as he and Nova walked out the automatic door together.

TO BE CONTINUED WITH ACT TWO: The Fate of the Gamilons?

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