TOMORROW NEVER KNOWS
ACT FOUR-THE CRUCIBLE
I. BRYAN HARTCLIFFE ON THE
EDGE
Earth-Idlewild
Space Naval Air Station
Tuesday,
December 1, 2201
0610
Hours-Spacetime
"Well,
it's the start of another training day...for me at least," chuckled Derek Wildstar
as he walked towards a hangar carrying a flight bag, with Nova following
nearby. They had changed their routine a little this morning and had met for
breakfast after PT and the requisite change from the sweats they wore while
working out with their squadrons to their uniforms.
"I'm
looking forward to today, Derek. You know why, don't you?"
"Let me
guess," he said. "First time behind the controls of
a Tiger?"
Nova nodded
once, with only her smile betraying her enthusiasm about the flight. "And,
because my test scores allowed me to qualify as Flight Leader of Alpha Flight,
I'll be the first one up with Hardy today."
"Congratulations,"
he said as he gave her an appreciative glance.
"Who are
you taking up first, today, Derek? Miss Hartmann?" she asked, referring to
the beautiful light-blond haired hotshot that she had met on the weekend and
begun to strike up a friendship with.
"No,"
said Wildstar. "It's Hartcliffe."
"Him?"
she asked, surprised.
"Yeah. He was number one in the class, as it turned out. I had to
give him the post."
"What's he
really like, Derek?"
"Nova...I'm
not sure you want to know. I'm..."
Then, as they
were approaching a Super Starfighter that was being prepped by a ground crew,
Wildstar and Nova turned their heads when they heard some loud and somewhat
raucous laughter.
"HEY!"
they both heard a person with a very nasal and prominent Angilan
accent call out. "Don't you groundbirds mess me
plane up, now...or you're gonna have royal 'ell to pay!"
"Oh, stop
it!" they heard an equally loud California-accented female voice respond.
Wildstar and Nova turned around to see
Bryan Hartcliffe and Angelique Burkhardt coming up with their flight bags.
"Mornin', sir," said Hartcliffe as he stopped to salute Wildstar and
Nova. Angie followed suit.
"Hartcliffe,
before we begin our pre-flight, I'd like to ask you something," said
Wildstar.
"And that
is, sir?"
"Have you
been carrying on with Miss Burkhardt during duty hours?" he demanded.
"Oh,
c'mon, sir," he said. "Duty begins when I report, and aren't you a
little like the pot callin' the kettle black, now?" he
Artwork:
"Welcome" (c) 1999 by Ken Mayes with touch-up by
asked, turning around with Angie to look at the sunrise.
"And what
do you mean by that?" asked Wildstar behind everyone as the cold breeze
blew through his hair for a moment.
"Well,
here we are, we're due to like, pre-flight at 0630 and take off at 0700, and
you've shown up, with all respect, sir, with your significant other, with whom,
I believe, you don't mess aroun' with on duty. If I'm
'ere with mine, and you're 'ere with yers, that must mean we're off duty,
right?"
"It
does," said Wildstar. "But, I'd advise some caution, Mister
Hartcliffe."
"Why?"
he asked.
"The base
has begun to talk!" chimed in Nova. "Really!
It has! You should hear some of the stories! You have a terrible reputation,
Bryan Hartcliffe! I ought to give a piece of my..."
"Nova,
easy," said Derek in a low voice while putting his hand on her shoulder.
"Let me do the talking. This isn't the Argo."
Nova nodded,
backing off.
"Okay,"
said Angie. "What is it you two want to say?"
Wildstar
cleared his throat. "What I'd like to ask is a little more discretion. I'm
not going to interfere with your private life...especially because I'm aware I
wouldn't like MY private life interfered with. What I'd like to remind you is
that, once we're ready to fly, you will have say your
farewells for the morning to Miss Burkhardt. Then, you will concentrate on the
task at hand, so you can learn how to fly that fighter safely, just as I will
have said my farewells for the morning to Miss Forrester so that I can
concentrate on teaching you, and so that she can concentrate on her lessons
today in her squadron, just as I'll expect you to leave Miss Burkhardt to her
lessons. Do I make myself clear, Mister Hartcliffe?"
"Aye, aye,
sir," he said respectfully.
"All right. You'll meet me on that tarmac in..."
Wildstar paused to check his watch "...eighteen minutes, ready for your
pre-flight checkout, and concentrating fully on the task at hand. I don't care
what you do with those eighteen minutes as long as you're ready to check that
fighter out and fly, Mister."
"Yessir!"
Hartcliffe
saluted and walked away, followed by Angie.
"My
hangar's that way, Derek," said Nova. "Want some juice or something
before we get going?"
"No...uhhmm...make that yes, if you can do me a favor?"
"Which
is?"
"Keep an
eye peeled for what those two are up to? With his record..."
"He could
get into a lot of trouble in eighteen minutes," said Nova. "I know.
Hardy told me. I'll see you in a minute with that juice and a report."
******
Five minutes
later, while Wildstar was looking over his flight plan, Nova came back with a
cup of juice. "Nothing to report," she said, "except a muttered
comment or two."
"Did they
see you?"
"No,"
said Nova. "I moved quickly."
"Okay,"
he said. "Wish me luck."
"Good
luck," said Nova softly.
"And good
luck to you, too," he said tenderly, looking into her eyes. "Get
yourself back on the ground in one piece."
"The same
goes for you, too, sir," said Nova softly. She looked around, saw no one,
and gave her fiancée a quick hug. He rapidly returned it and said, "Have a
good flight."
"Professionalism
and spirit, sir," smiled back Nova, repeating an old EDF motivational
slogan. "I'll try to see you at lunch if I can."
"Right,"
he said... nodding and smiling shyly as Nova picked up her bag and walked off.
Hope the
flight crew didn't see that, thought Wildstar as he walked up towards the Super Starfighter
that Hartcliffe would be flying that day. He hoped he wasn't blushing as he
looked professional and took the plane's maintenance log from a Corporal,
checking over all the items quickly as he gave the plane a walk-around. A
walk-around was a visual inspection of the plane and its parts. Hartcliffe, as
pilot, was supposed to do that, but Wildstar found it to be a good idea to
second-guess his students, just in case.
Also, to keep
his head up, thought Wildstar, he picked up a small piece of cotton waste lying
on the ground and left it dangling inconspicuously from the Super Starfighter's
port side forward intake. I'll leave this "gift". Just SOP, he
grinned slightly. Commodore Hoshiyama used to leave me "gifts"
like this all the time. I'm sure Nova'll find a few dangling from her Tiger,
too, if I know Hardy, he thought.
Finally, after
completed his walkaround, Wildstar stood waiting for
Hartcliffe, who came back around a moment later, jiggling his helmet and
muttering, "Shaggin', luv!" under his breath.
"Hartcliffe,
what's the big idea?," asked Wildstar.
"Sir?"
"You're
supposed to have the flight CO pad OUT and ready, and you're supposed to put
your helmet up in that front seat first thing! Go back and do that again!"
"Yessir,"
said Hartcliffe. A moment later, he came back and followed the procedure
properly, saluting and coming to attention with his flight pad open.
"Good,"
said Wildstar, as, off in the distance, he thought he heard Hardy screaming at
someone. The identity was confirmed when he dimly heard Nova crying out,
"Aye, aye, SIR! I won't do THAT again!"
"Well!," barked Wildstar. "Start at the nose and start
the checkout."
The checkout
went well. Hartcliffe spotted the junk, and duly logged it. The checkout of
their flight plan was also quite normal, and everything was going according to
plan. Finally, Wildstar and Hartcliffe boarded the plane while the ground crew
members completed their procedures.
Hartcliffe got
the Super Starfighter started flawlessly, and he soon had his faceplate down as
the cockpit sealed.
Hartcliffe
responded "Affirmative." to the ground controller's grant of
permission to taxi as the Astrofighter's wheels were unchocked and the plane began to roll forward, its burnt
orange and gold skin gleaming in the bright morning sun.
"Not bad,
so far, Hartcliffe," said Wildstar over the radio from the back seat of
the plane. "Remember, she's a thrust-heavy plane, so keep that power
throttled down until we need it."
"Right,"
said Hartcliffe urgently as the plane turned a corner onto the taxiway. The
suppressed but powerful roar of the single fusion engine resounded through the
astrofighter as it approached the runway, pausing at a traffic control light as
a lone Cosmo Tiger roared off into the sky. Wildstar could tell from the
plane's colors and configuration that it wasn't Nova's ship; the plane that had
taken off was a Cosmo Tiger II, Type 1 single-seater,
in the light blue and gold paint scheme that was the standard make-up job for
all planes assigned to other ships. Wildstar had heard that the new space
battleship Andromeda was close to completion, and that she would be
carrying a full complement of fighters when she went on station due to the
relative lack of carriers in the Fleet (even the two that had survived would need
a substantial amount of dockyard work before being spaceworthy
again) he guessed that the plane that had just taken off was probably bound for
the Andromeda and was just being flight-tested now.
Finally, a
voice came in their headsets. "Super Star One-Zero-One, you are cleared
for takeoff on Runway One-Three."
"Roger
that," said Hartcliffe as he swung onto the runway. Soon, under his
guidance, the plane began to accelerate, and he and Wildstar were pushed back
into their seats as the fighter roared down the runway.
A moment later,
the concrete disappeared under them as the plane became airborne. Hartcliffe
kept his climb angle strictly by the book as the plane ascended rapidly towards
its cruising altitude.
"Good
job," said Wildstar, who was expecting games from this pilot. "Now,
let's see you execute some turns."
Hartcliffe
began to go through the book; bank to port, bank to starboard. He repeated the
procedure again, and then returned quietly to level flight. "Tanks are
nominal; we're doin' great, sir. Airspeed and ground speed are within our
limits, altitude is normal cruise. Do you want the nominal atmospheric ceiling,
or are we taking 'er up to play around in orbit,
sir?"
"We're
staying in the atmosphere today, Hartcliffe. We'll go into space when you show
me you have all the rudiments of atmospheric flight in this bird down first.
Because of her small wing surfaces, the Super Starfighter is much harder to
control in an atmosphere than in space. However, there's no guarantee you'll
ever fight all your battles in space. I fought one of my first battles in this
type of astrofighter in the high-pressure environment of Jupiter's upper
atmosphere at the Gamilons' Floating Continent. You might have to fly this sort
of plane in a gas giant someday, too, Mister. Now, drop to eight thousand
meters and show me what you've learned in the simulator yesterday about
aerobatics."
"Yessir."
Hartcliffe
promptly performed a number of barrel rolls and other such maneuvers, all
competently, all with a remarkable amount of control. There was nothing sloppy
about the way this Brit flew.
Wildstar knew
that he was dealing with someone who had a fair idea of how to control
something as difficult to fly as a Super Starfighter, and he had to grant
Hartcliffe this much; he was a quick learner, regardless of his demonstrated
sordid morals and warped mind.
"How're we
doin?," he asked.
"Fair,"
said Wildstar. "But don't get cocky and think you know everything yet,
Mister. You've done all right with a lot of space between us and the ground.
Now, take us down to the deck."
With a smile,
Hartcliffe peered through his John Lennon-style spectacles and began to drop
the Super Star down towards the ground in a fairly controlled dive. Wildstar
made notes on his pad, thinking that maybe this would be an unexpectedly smooth
flight after all.
They descended
down towards the ocean and the base. Hartcliffe flew well with little
clearance, making turns and keeping under control in spite of the cold morning
sea breeze from the east and the fact that they weren't all that far from the
wave tops.
Finally,
Wildstar made a few more notes and said, "For your first flight, on your
first day, that wasn't bad, Mister Hartcliffe. Okay...take us back to
base."
"Yessir,"
said Hartcliffe as he requested an approach vector. he
received it and was told, "You're authorized to come in on this vector in
three minutes. Until then, orbit the base under your instructor's guidance at a
low altitude."
"Acknowledged,"
said Hartcliffe as they swept around the base, looking down at the hangars,
taxiways, and maintenance areas they had all seen this morning.
As they swung
towards a parking lot, Hartcliffe noticed something and had a sudden idea.
"Sir!" he asked.
"Yes,"
said Wildstar.
"May I
deviate a little from our course. I'd like to...just
get a look at something in that parking lot."
"What
is it?" asked Wildstar in a humorless tone.
"You'll
see, sir," said Hartcliffe as the plane's nose dipped a little under his
guidance. Then, the plane began to speed up.
"Hartcliffe,
NO. Return back to our orbiting vector," said Wildstar.
"This'll
take us all of thirty seconds, sir..."
"We don't
have that much time, and it's a matter of discipline. Hartcliffe, get us
back on course...."
"In a
second, sir..." said Hartcliffe as the plane sped up a little more.
"Hartcliffe...no. Get your nose UP!," barked Wildstar as,
too late, he saw what Hartcliffe was planning to do, and, guessing he had no
other choice, he began to manipulate his controls to regain control of the
ship.
But, even as
Wildstar flicked the switches to take the throttle, the plane roared down
towards the lot.
"Here's your daily personnel reports from Headquarters,
sir," said a pleasant young female Ensign in her typical short-skirted
Admin uniform.
"Thank
you," said Captain Priceman in a pleasant tone as he took the reports from
the young lady who waited near the Staff car that had brought her in from
Headquarters.
"Would you
sign here, please, sir? Hey, what's that plane doing?,"
she asked curiously.
"...What...?"
asked Priceman as he looked up. "That isn't the proper ceiling for parking
lots... is it?"
A second later,
the Super Starfighter buzzed the lot, with a loud roar, and an intimidating
whistle of wind that blew Priceman's report all over
the place. It also made the young Admin Ensign fall back towards the Captain
screaming with terror.
"Who is
that...that MANIAC?" yelled Priceman as he helped the trembling young lady
back to her feet.
"Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha HOOO!," whooped
Hartcliffe. "Man!!
Nicest bleedin' legs ah've laid eyes on in weeks! Can we do that
again...I...hey...where's me stick?" he asked, moving the control stick
without a response.
"I'm
flying this plane now, MISTER," barked Wildstar as he forced the ship back
up onto its proper vector. "And YOU'RE gonna have a lot of explaining to
do when we land, Hartcliffe. Thanks to you, we're BOTH in hot water, now!"
"Why?
They'll just yell at me, right, sir?"
"And ME for letting you DO it! If I had gotten those controls
back a second earlier, you stupid IDIOT, we wouldn't have gotten into this mess
you've put us in!"
"Super
Star One-Zero-One, are you reading us?" said a voice over the radio.
"Super
Star One-Zero-One, over and reading you," snapped Wildstar.
"Instructor performed regained control of ship after unauthorized
maneuver, over."
"I'm to
understand that maneuver was unauthorized?"
"Over, you
read me right," said Wildstar. "I never granted student clearance for
maneuver, over."
"Damn
good, because otherwise, you would've been down there with him cleaning
up my reports, Mister Wildstar!" snapped a cold voice over the radio.
"Sir,"
said Wildstar, who recognized Priceman's voice at
once. "It was my error. I didn't regain control quickly enough,
sir."
"I'm going
to have a good listen to your voice recorder when we land and see if it tells
me the same thing as these tapes we have here," said Priceman irritably.
"Get your tail on the ground now, Wildstar; I'm vectoring you in myself...
and bring your sorry excuse for a student in with you. Got that?"
"Yessir,"
said Wildstar grimly as he pulled up onto Priceman's
approach vector a moment later as he gave it in clipped fashion, over the
headset.
Wildstar felt even
more chagrined, as, in the distance, he saw a burnt-orange Type 2A Cosmo Tiger
orbiting around the base, and probably coming in right after him. Hardy and
Nova, he thought grimly. Please God, I hope Hardy had the decency NOT to
switch frequencies and let her hear THIS one. If not, I'll NEVER hear the end
of this story!
"Raight,
Jake," chuckled Hardy over the ship-to-ship interlink to another
instructor in another plane. "The instructor of that squadron was the one
that allowed that boner! Raight over Iceman, too! Ha, haaa...what
a riot! And ah caught it on my recon camera, too. Up nine meters! WHOA! Ah
ain't lettin' mah student see that one, either!"
"Hardy?"
asked Nova respectfully over her headset. "Why did you take control of my
recon camera? I didn't do anything wrong, did I?"
"Nope,
Miss Nova, yoah just fine!" said Hardy as he tried to regain his
composure. "Just keep on that vector, keep flyin' nice and straight, and maybe ah'll forget
you didn't spot that junk in the intake on the walkaround
today, all raight? Just keep her flying, nice and level, Nova...and let me keep
control on the downlink! I've got a...special download to take care of, that's
all. Just ignore me, ah'm just the instructor."
"Are you
all right? You were laughing pretty hard a minute ago, sir. I heard you even
WITH the intercom off."
"No, ah'm
fine, just faine," grinned Hardy as he ran the
close-up of Wildstar and Hartcliffe's mishap again. "Just don't worry. Over and out, Nova. Just listen to the tower. "
"Huh?"
she said innocently.
"Consider
it an advance solo since you was such a good student today, Miss
Forrester," chuckled Hardy, who emphatically
turned off the intercom, as he switched back to Jake. "Lookit this,
boy!" he chuckled. "That's great, Hardy," chuckled Jacob Strawfield, a smart young Afro-American pilot, and
instructor in charge of the Red Rippers, who had been a friend of Hardy's ever
since their cadet days. "Look, Johnson. Look at some of the stuff you can
do with a recon camera!" he chortled. "Who was the pilot nutty enough
to do this?"
"Bryan
Hartcliffe," chuckled Hardy. "He's one CRAZY dude, if what ah heah
about him is true!" said Hardy.
"Who was
the instructor? And is he gonna escape with his career intact?"
"Wildstar,"
chuckled Hardy.
"WILDSTAR?"
he said. "Are you SERIOUS, 'bro?"
"I am. All
Iceman's gonna do is yell at him, though. The BEST part's gonna be for
Hartcliffe, wooooEEEE! If he survives trainin' ah
think ah want to fly with the boy someday!"
"You
would, Hardy," said Strawman jovially. "What's
your pilot think of this?"
"Nuthin,"
whispered Hardy. "And she can't think nothin', either.
We gotta keep her in the DARK."
"Why?"
"She's
Wildstar's fiancé, that's why!" whooped Hardy.
"Oh,
shoot, we gotta do the mushroom treatment on that broad."
"Mushroom
treatment?" asked Hardy.
"Yeah. We gotta keep her in the dark and feed her crap!"
Hardy whooped
it up even louder; so loudly that Nova turned her head and asked, "Sir,
ARE you all right?"
"Just
fine, Miss Nova," laughed Hardy.
"Tiger
One-Zero-One, over...are you awake up there?" asked the controller.
"Yes...I
am," said Nova.
"Well,
trainee, we've been telling your instructor to order you in for the last
minute! Is he awake?"
"Yessir,
he is...We...were just discussing my flight, that's all," said Nova.
"Well,
since I see you have some mission recon experience, maybe you can try vectoring
her in on this course. Head to Mark...."
******
In Priceman's office, Hartcliffe and Wildstar stood before the
desk as Priceman coldly said, "Lieutenant Hartcliffe, do you realize how
important air safety IS?"
"Yessir,
ah do," he said in a chagrined voice, having heard a non-stop gripe-out
from Wildstar ever since their wheels touched the ground.
"And,
Wildstar, I see your report," said Priceman. "This is fine; insofar
as you attempted to keep your student from performing the maneuver. But, hell
is filled with attempts and good intentions, Commander. Even the best of us can
slip up. Once. I'll grant you once, in the serious
proscriptions of SOP rules. Even the best instructor can have an idiot in the
front seat, as you evidently did, Commander. But I don't want to see you do
this again, Wildstar, and especially not to me. I'd rather see you punch out
the sorry fool right in the cockpit like he went crazy and bring him in
unconscious than to do that. And if he tries something like that after he
solos, in formation, you have my permission to take any step, including
shooting him down like a rabid weasel, got that?"
"Yessir,"
said Wildstar.
"Oh. Your punishment's inadequate," said Priceman as he
balled up Wildstar's incident chit and threw it in the circular file.
"Don't ground him for one training day. Ground him for two,
understood?"
"Yessir."
"Now,
YOU," he said to Hartcliffe. "You get out there and do grounds maintenance with a bag around that lot until you
find me EVERY single piece of my report! And if some of them are torn up,
tough! Use adhesive tape to get them back together and in a readable form, son!
DO I make myself clear?"
"Aye, aye,
sir," said Hartcliffe, who was almost in tears.
"And when
you begin flying again, on Friday, YOU will be Wildstar's sole student. You
will then repeat the flight for ATD-1, and then take the flights for ATD's 2, 3, and 4 all in succession after Wildstar puts
everyone else through an early flight for ATD-4. You will then debrief and you
and Wildstar will have grades and a report on my desk by 2000 hours that
evening! If you have a social life planned for that night, son, tough cookies.
Same goes for your instructor."
And, if I see
you here before me for ANY reason, I won't be as nice to you as I was today.
All right?" said Priceman in a nice, level tone of voice.
"Yessir,"
said Hartcliffe in an almost inaudible tone.
"I'll take
that as a "yessir", even though you sounded like you were two years
old," said Priceman. "Wildstar, get him out of here. And better luck
on your other eleven flights, all right?"
"Yessir,"
said Wildstar in a quiet voice.
Both of them
saluted and left.
Wildstar
stopped Hartcliffe in the corridor as he began to walk off with his head down
and shoulders sagging.
"Hartcliffe,"
snapped Wildstar.
"Yessir?"
he asked.
"You
realized you could have avoided all of this if you had just found another way
to play a joke on someone?"
"Sir?"
"There are
the sorts of practical jokes that one can get away with, and the sort that one
can't get away with under any circumstances. Today, you just learned, as if you
didn't learn in combat, that flying isn't a funny business. I've been doing this
for longer than you, Mister, and I've seen others learn the same lesson, but
with an even harsher grade and result. Do you know how some pilots have left
this base after their jokes messed up? Do you?,"
asked Wildstar.
Hartcliffe
remained silent as Derek continued with his tirade. "For your information,
some pilots have left this airbase, and others throughout this planet and
throughout history, being carried out by six guys in a box because either God,
or the laws of physics, take your pick, didn't think their jokes were very
funny and made them pay for it. Your number didn't come up today, Hartcliffe,
so as a result, you're not a piece of burned meat lying up in a tree near that
parking lot, and, fortunately, neither am I. Luckily, the woman who is going to
be my wife in twenty-five days isn't sitting around somewhere crying her eyes
out because I'll never come back, and, luckily for you, your girlfriend isn't
doing the same thing, Mister. And would you like to know why I didn't punch you
out cold when we landed?"
"No?"
"It's
because despite the fact that ATD-1 was wiped out, you would've scored a first
day rating in the high nineties, Mister!" said Wildstar. "...IF you
hadn't messed up. Now, I want you to get out there and clean up that mess you
made. And remember this."
"Yes?"
"If you
pull something like that again, Mister, I WILL punch your lights out before I
turn you over to Priceman. Consider the punch you didn't earn today a suspended
sentence, Bryan Hartcliffe! And, be careful...I'll be watching your every
move!"
II. SETTING
UP HOUSEKEEPING
Earth
Federal
Megalopolis
Sands Point
Cove
Wednesday,
December 2, 2201
1700
Hours-Spacetime
The red
Cosmo-Mustang staff aircar wound up the road through the hills near the shoreline
on the outskirts of the Federal Megalopolis until it stopped at a set of
gateposts that would hold a pair of gates, which seemed to still be under
construction. The wall that the gate pierced was a modernistic concrete wall
whose bareness was hidden by a breed of crawling ivy that was already growing
on the wall and thriving.
"Are you
sure this is the place, Derek?" asked Nova as she looked quizzically at
her fiancée.
"This is
"But
where's the house?" asked Nova softly.
Derek shrugged,
and drove in, following the driveway up to a green hill, and then following it
around.
His eyes began
to go wide as he turned towards the south, and Nova began to smile. There, at a
location that showed a beautiful shoreline of the local sound, stood what was
obviously a house under construction; as the driveway curved one last time
towards the garage, it turned abruptly to dirt.
The house was
covered in something made to look like old-style wood siding (even though both
of them guessed that it wasn't actual wood), and was a pleasing light tan
color, with a dark red roof and white-painted window frames and doors.
"Well,
what do you think?" asked Wildstar as he got out, carrying the packet in
his hand.
"It's...beautiful!"
said Nova in awe. "Do you think we can look inside?"
"I don't
know if the inside's finished yet, Nova," said
Derek as he and Nova began to approach the outdoor staircase that led towards
the door, which was on the side of the house. It would give a wonderful view of
the rolling hill that led down towards the shoreline to the west.
"HEY!"
yelled a cross-looking man in work clothes with a hardhat and clipboard as he
abruptly burst out of the house. "What in blazes ya
doin' here? This here's private property, youse guys!"
Boy, he
sounds like Sergeant Knox, thought Wildstar as he looked irritably at the workman.
"I'm Lieutenant Commander Derek Wildstar, and the young lady here is my
fiancé, Lieutenant Nova Forrester. For your information, sir, we own this
property as a grant from the Federal Government of Earth, and you're standing
in the front door of our house."
"Well, why
didn't cha say so?" he chuckled. "Nah, you don't needs
to show me your deed. I recognize that packet."
"What do
you mean?" asked Nova.
"I was
working' on your buddy's house, guy named Sandor. You know, the other project,
off over there by Heroes' Hill?"
"Sandor's
all right?" asked Nova.
"Uh-huh.
He was just by his house, lookin' at it same as youse guys. Sorry I didn't
recognize ya."
"Is it
safe to go inside?," asked Nova.
"Yeah,
sure, if ya like bare walls and exposed plumbin',
that is. We just finished all the interior work today and hooked ya up to the
worldwide power transmission grid." The man abruptly shut the door behind
him. "It's locked. If ya got yer cardkey, let's just see if it works,
first," he said cheerfully.
Wildstar hunted
around in the portfolio for the cardkey to his house. Finally, he found it, and
handed it to Nova. "You do the honors, Mrs. Wildstar."
"But I'm
not that, yet."
"You soon
will be," he said patting her on the arm as the workman puffed irritably
on his cigar and thought, Lovebirds...yeeccch,
mush!
Nova shut her eyes
and put the cardkey in the lock for the first time. The unit read the code, and
quietly buzzed, unlocking the door.
Then, Derek
pushed the door open, and both of them stepped in after Derek took back the key
and put it away.
They walked
through a empty, high foyer with unfinished walls and walked into a living room
that looked very, very bare, with metal studs still showing in the walls and
exposed wires dangling from the ceiling two floors above them, because the
living room was vaulted, like the foyer. A messy pile of stone and brick lay in
one corner of the room, complete with bags of cement.
"That's
going to be the fireplace, isn't it?" asked Nova.
"Yep, dat's what it looks like," said the workman.
"That'll
be nice," said Wildstar.
"Now it's
a mess," laughed the foreman. "Lemme show ya the kitchen, or what's gonna be the kitchen..."
They walked
around until they entered a space with a bay window at their backs, and the
framework of a counter in the middle of the room in front of them. "That's
your table space, and along dese walls, where we have
dese lovely pipes now, will be your food processor,
sink, cabinets, et cetera. Up there's a stairway that leads to bedrooms number
3 and 2 in the upstairs a' the house; and, ya've got
that deck right here," he said, walking them through to the living room
and its conversation pit.
He shook his
head and continued. "Back this way, by the bay windows, is the door out to
the deck," he said, walking them outside again. "You've got a
stairway, going down to what'll be bushes, and dat dere
hole in da ground by those bushes the gardener left is gonna be your swimmin' pool, off in the trees," he said. "That
little shack there is gonna be your cabana, and we're even putting in a bar for
pool parties."
"Back
inside," he said as Nova stood there with wide eyes, having to be walked
along by Derek, "and I'll show ya the second floor a' this joint," he
chuckled.
After peeking
in the second bedroom at what would be a bathroom (while Nova whispered to
Derek that maybe someday that would be their daughter's room), the contractor
took them back to the foyer and let them go back downstairs, down a staircase
that curved a bit as it went up.
Nova wanted to
go upstairs to look at something, so they went up again. Upstairs, in a huge
lounge that seemed to take up most of the second floor, they had a view down
into the living room. A high wall and railing, covered incongruously with
ornamental plants someone had already put there in the otherwise unfinished
room, allowed one to peek back down into the living room, but didn't allow
those downstairs to look up.
Derek asked,
"And, what's this space below us?"
"Master
bedroom," said the contractor with a chuckle. He took them downstairs and
showed them what would be their bedroom. "That pile of rocks is gonna be
your second fireplace, and I already stuck a twelve-point buck head above it
for ya, see?" he said. Turning to Nova, he whispered, "Youse can tell
all your girlfriends HE got it. No one'll ever
know."
"That's...nice,"
said Nova. "But, maybe it'd be better downstairs?" she suggested.
"Neither of us are really big on hunting. Can you
get me some hanging plants to put up there when we move in, Derek?" she
asked.
"Sure.
Uhh...if you don't mind...I've got to talk to you for a minute...alone..."
"I'll
leave yas alone...sure," chuckled the
contractor. "Meet me outside, okay?"
At that, he
left.
"Yes,
Derek?" asked Nova as he looked around and led her to the only place they
could sit down; namely, an unfinished, but cushioned window seat by the row of
bedroom windows.
"Nova,
I've got some bad news about what happened yesterday at the base."
"What,
Derek?" asked Nova with concern.
"That
scrape Hartcliffe got us in...you heard about
it?"
"Yes, I
did," said Nova softly. "I didn't hear all the details, though."
"They're
putting a little of the blame on me for not having stopped him in time,"
said Wildstar. "As a result, I have to punish him on Friday by making him
repeat his first training day and putting him through all his training days in
one day after he finishes up a grounding he began serving yesterday. I probably
won't be done debriefing until nineteen or twenty hundred that night, at the
earliest."
"That
means we'll have to wait on that concert, won't we?" sighed Nova.
"I'm
afraid so, Nova. I'm really sorry. I don't like breaking dates with you, or
breaking promises," said Derek in a sad, gentle way.
"It's not
your fault," said Nova. "You're a commander, and you're responsible
for your subordinates, just like I'm responsible for mine in my squadron. And,
Lord, are THEY a handful! I'm disappointed, but I'm not mad. I forgive you,
Derek."
"Thanks,"
he said as they drew close and cuddled on the window seat for what would be the
first of many times.
"Derek?"
she asked timidly after they cuddled for a long moment.
"Yes?"
"If I got
into trouble, would you forgive me?" she asked.
"Why would
you ask something like that?" asked Wildstar. "You're one of the best
officers I know, and not just because I'm engaged to you, either."
"It could
happen to any of us. You know what subordinates can do," said Nova softly.
"Anyone can mess up and take the best of us down with them," she
said. "If it happened, would you be mad?"
"No,"
said Derek. "But it'll never happen to you. You're...too good."
"I hope
so...because being a student and being a leader all at once is a tough job, and
we both know that. But now, it seems tougher than ever," said Nova.
"I hope everything's going to be all right."
Little did Nova
know how right she was, or how soon this would prove to be true...
III.
CONSTRUCTION AND DESTRUCTION
Earth
Federal
Megalopolis
Undersea
Dock #2
Thursday,
December 10, 2201
1123
Hours-Spacetime
A few days
later, after training Hartcliffe and many others to hell and back again, and
after everyone had completed their solos, Derek Wildstar cut out of his
training routine for a while to take care of some other business at the
Yokosuka Space Naval Base.
There, he had
arranged to meet Sandor and Orion to, at last, discuss some of the details of
the battered Argo's refit, which, Sandor had informed him, was now in
progress.
After
descending into an office level underground, he met Sandor and warmly shook his
hand.
"You look
well," he said as he looked over the tall, imposing officer, who wore his
green coveralls over his blues with a white ascot. Sandor again looked just the
way he had in September before all of them had left.
"Thanks,"
he said.
"How's the
new leg?"
"Working
better than the old one," chuckled Sandor, who stopped to flex his bionic
leg. "Finally, at long last, they're beginning to get things moving down
here," he said.
"And it's
about time, too!" said Orion as he came out of an inner office.
"How are
you doing?" he asked.
"Pretty
well, considering' how old I am," said Orion. "But, I can still keep
up with all of you, so don't think of tryin'; anything funny," he said
with a smile. "If you'll come with me, I'll show you how the old girl
looks now. She's still convalescing, so, be warned, it's not gonna be a pretty
sight yet."
Wildstar,
Sandor and Orion went down another lift, and emerged in a vast room that looked
very familiar. Even though it was in a different location, it was an undersea
dry-dock that looked very similar to the one from which they had left in
September when they had stolen the Argo.
Wildstar
followed the two engineers, purposely keeping his eyes on the floor as they
said, "You see, the biggest problem is the adaptation of the new
technology to the old deckplan without compromising
either the original deckplan of the compartment or
compromising the efficiency of the new equipment," said Sandor.
"And
didn't we find that we can't fit in quite all that fancy pushbutton
maintenance, either?" said Orion.
"No...the existing conduits just aren't big enough down there, and
that's all there is to it, I'm afraid," said Sandor.
"What are
the two of you talking about?," asked Wildstar.
"The
rebuilding of the engine room," said Sandor. "Take a look, Wildstar. "We're here."
Derek Wildstar
walked a little ahead, and then he looked up, and his mouth fell open, since,
sitting there before him, sat the Argo, looking, from his vantage point,
shiny, new, and magnificently rebuilt. All of the structural damage around the
wave gun and the bow had been repaired, and the same went for what he could see
of the forward turrets, the red-painted bulbous bow, the forward pulse lasers,
and the bridge tower. He wasn't sure why, but the radar aerials seemed to look
just a little bigger; but since it had been almost a month since he had seen
the mighty ship last, he couldn't be sure.
He turned back
to Sandor and Orion and yelled, "This is great! When can we go out?"
"Not for a
while yet," said Sandor softly. "The minor work is done. The major
work is still in progress in the after part of the ship. As a matter of fact,
there, it's just beginning. Would you come with me, please?"
Wildstar
nodded, following Sandor and Orion around to the stern of the ship.
There, he saw a
different story. The stern of the Argo was more or less torn apart, and
there were many, many lifts present raising pieces of equipment up into the
bowels of the space battleship.
"Where's
the engines?" asked Wildstar.
"They're
being completely reconstructed and uprated," said Sandor. "After the
repair work, which was, in itself, extensive, this is
the major part of the refit, and the reason why we don't think the ship will be
ready until some time early next year," said Sandor.
"It's
quite a job, and we just got permission to do it, and to do it right, the way
that Captain Avatar and our dead comrades would want it," said Orion.
"Meaning?"
asked Wildstar.
"We
figured out how to give the Argo the speed and power of the Andromeda
without taking away her heart and lifeblood; the Star Force," said Sandor
as Wildstar looked on mystified. "This way; to the engine room...."
Wildstar and
the others entered, to find a compartment that looked about in the same sort of
state of construction as his house! Namely, structurally present (except for
the stern itself, which was just down to its plating and framework), but empty
of everything except a few supports, conduits, and pipe connections. To his
surprise, Wildstar saw the conduction pipe itself, which led forward to the
wave motion gun, connected to no power plant at all!
"Where's
the engine?" asked Wildstar in shock. "The energy
generator...the warp equipment?"
"Gone,"
said Sandor, "...in favor of new equipment they're shipping in now."
"Well?"
he demanded. "Where IS it?"
"In all
those crates, lad," said Orion. "Matter of fact, we're priority. They
just stopped work on Hull #039 in order to adapt its engine parts and ship the
whole kit an' caboodle of them here straight from the factories."
"You
mean?" asked Wildstar in shock.
"The Argo's
being rebuilt with an Andromeda-class power plant," said Sandor.
"But, don't lose your temper, Wildstar. We thought about what you said
that last time and I got the Defense Council to accept your arguments. The
Argo's being rebuilt with a smaller, lighter, and more powerful main energy
plant from an Andromeda-class space battleship, the engines destined for
the space battleship Aquarius, as a matter of fact. But, the engine's
being readapted for the Argo so that it can be controlled by our old
semi-automated systems, and not by the fully automated
systems constructed in the Andromeda class."
"But, what
about all that automated maintenance equipment you showed me?" asked
Wildstar.
"Only a
little of it's bein' installed," said Orion.
"And, this engine's bein' altered so we can have repair crews fix all of
it in case the automatic diagnostic unit fails. Also, unlike an Andromeda,
she's bein' designed so that the space warp mechanism can be fine-tuned by us
rather than havin' to depend on the computer
software. Since the Argo's hull weighs less than those on those flyin'
robots, anyhow, I think we'll break every speed record and power rating set by
the original in her provin' runs."
"The
Defense Council is going to be taking a good, hard look at how she performs
when we go out on the rebuilt ship's trials in a few weeks, Wildstar,"
said Sandor. "And, if these ideas work, maybe the Council will eventually
accept a few of my other ideas for improving the ship in a future refit down
the road."
"Those
are?" asked Wildstar.
"I can't
get into the specifics yet," said Sandor. "Some of those devices have
yet to be perfected on the drawing board, let alone even built. And, when we
get permission to put them in the Argo, someday, she'll be in refit for
months, possibly as long as a year, before we can get everything done. "
"So it
looks good," said Wildstar.
"That's
right," said Orion. "And soon, she'll look even better."
"I'm
glad," said Wildstar. "Even with my wedding to Nova coming up soon,
part of me can't wait to get out into space again in the new ship. Did you hear
anything about...?"
"Your new
rank?" asked Sandor. "They haven't told me anything about that, yet.
The Defense Council's still deliberating that one."
"Well, who
do they have listed as the Argo's skipper at the moment?," asked Wildstar.
"No
one," said Sandor. "Officially, the Captaincy of the Argo and
the Command of Star Force is now Vacant: Pending Command Review and Defense
Council Recommendation."
"Vacant?"
said Wildstar. "It hasn't been listed as that since..."
"Since
Captain Avatar was listed dead when we returned from Iscandar," said
Sandor. "As you know, you were then assigned as Acting Captain until
Commodore Managua assumed command of the Third Squadron for your tour. That
means they're mulling over who's going to be formally assigned as Skipper of
the ship now. We're all sure it'll be you, Wildstar. Take it easy."
"I heard
Vice-Admiral Wellington's being reassigned to something," said Wildstar
glumly. "Did you hear what, yet?"
"No,"
said Sandor. "But word has it that he's not being assigned to the Argo."
"Officially,"
said Wildstar quietly.
"C'mon,
Wildstar, it'll work out. And I told ye he'd like it this time," chuckled
Orion. Everyone laughed, but still, Wildstar couldn't help having a little bit
of unease lurking in his mind.
I'll have to
wait and see, that's all, he thought. When she's finished, we'll see how well all
of this new equipment works together. So much is changing in my life, now, and
so soon.
I wonder, he thought. Will I
still be in command of this new ship, or will they put someone else over my
head until I learn more about her? I hope not...I'm the one the Star Force has
come to respect...
*******
"I can't
believe you! YOU IDIOT!," barked Tatiana Lubyanska as she threw her helmet
down on a bench in the locker room at the Idlewild Fighter Base a little later
that afternoon.
"What do
you mean me?" cried Angelique Burkhardt. "Weren't YOU the one who
didn't hear my report about the hypothetical bogie we were tracking?"
"It was
nothing but a radar ghost!" hissed Tatiana as she threw her flight bag in
her locker, very hard.
"But it
was the one they wanted our flight to find!" she cried. "And because
we missed it, we lost a lot of points. You know...Nova tried to take the blame
for all of us..."
"What
makes her so good? A uniform? A reputation?"
hissed Tatiana. "She's a halfway good recon pilot, I'll admit that...but
she does NOT by any means have the fire in her eyes to be a fighter pilot!"
"Maybe
she's a flight leader because she studied and worked hard, harder than
us..."
"Bah,
these tests are child's play," hissed Tatiana. "You're nothing but an..."
"What do
you mean I'm an...?"
"Ladies,"
said Nova as she came in out of the showers wrapped in a towel, with wet hair.
"Please! None of us are doing particularly well today. Why do you two have
to stand there and take it out on each other? You know it's not good for our
morale!"
"Ma'am,
with all respect, I say, morale, shmorale,"
clucked Tatiana. "You're okay, although maybe a little too nice, but this
one," she said, pointing to Angie, "...is a fool who makes mistakes
in flying, and is interested only in parties, the boyfriend, and painting her
stupid toenails," she said. "You see?" she said, looking at
Angie after she removed a boot. "She even does them in different candy
colors, the fool mooshnika!"
"I beg
your pardon?" sneered Angie. "Are you some
kind of weirdo or something?"
"I'm not
some idiot who paints her nails weird colors," sneered Tatiana.
"Okay, as
long as we're discussing nails, you both know that polishing your nails on duty
is non-regulation," said Nova, putting a foot up on the bench. "But
that's beside the point for the moment, because it has nothing to do with our ability
as pilots. I've heard you people at each other since the beginning of training,
but this hits a new low for silliness! I haven't heard anything this
kooky since junior high, and I've been around for twenty-three years now. Can
you two cool it?"
"Da,"
said Tatiana angrily.
"I still
don't know what her problem is," muttered Angie.
"Okay,
okay," said Nova. "Whatever. Anything, so we can do this exercise
again as a group tomorrow, okay?," said Nova.
"Now, if you two can get into those showers and let me put on a nice,
fresh uniform, we can meet in an empty classroom or hangar and go over all this
again, without assigning blame on anyone, to see what you, Tatiana, you, Angie,
and myself, Nova Forrester, did wrong in our exercise as a flight today so we can
get back into Hardy's good graces tomorrow and beat Delta Flight, who isn't
even trying. Okay?"
Both of them
gave her disgusted looks and went back to getting undressed. Nova took a breath
and walked away. When she was out of sight of the others, she shook her head,
thinking, It's only gotten worse and worse between
those two as the weeks have gone by. What's it going to be next?
Then, as Nova
pulled off her towel and began to pull on her underthings,
she added to herself I'm not sure
I want to know what's going to be next! She dried her hair a bit more, and
then pulled on the lower half of a fresh set of blues, followed by the
skin-tight tunic that matched.
Nova had just
secured the fastener at the crotch of her tunic when she heard something
slamming down where Angie and Tatiana were arguing. She started, picking up one
of her boots.
A loud yell
came a minute later, and then Nova heard Angie screeching, "That battle
you were in wasn't my fault!" followed by more loud banging noises. At
that, Nova just dropped her boot and ran over barefoot to see what was going
on.
When she got
there, she was horrified to see Angie and Tatiana, with their tunics open,
grabbing and kicking at each other like maniacs. Tatiana threw a punch, which
Angie blocked while kicking at her. Then, Tatiana picked up a boot and tried to
bash Angie in the face with it, yelling, "You can go to the devil,
Burkhardt! You almost got me killed back there."
"Like hell
I did!" yelled Angie as she threw the boot out of Tatiana's hands and then
slapped her hard across the face.
"STOP
it!" barked Nova. "Stop it now!"
They refused to
stop. Nova ran past them, stuck her head out the door into the gym, and yelled
towards two young male Ensigns (namely, Wainwright and Mendelmann)
"Gentlemen! I need your help in here!"
"What's
goin' on?" asked Wainwright "Need help drying off?"
"Stop
being a joker and get in here!" snapped Nova.
"Hey, we
can't go in there! That's the ladies' locker room!" protested Mendelmann
"I'm
giving you a direct order to get in here!" snapped Nova. "There's a
disturbance in progress!"
"What?"
called Wainwright.
"A fight!"
yelled Nova. "I recognize you two; you're from Charlie Flight! Get IN
here!"
Nova kept one
ear cocked towards the fight as Wainwright ran in, while Mendelmann hesitated.
"Get IN
here!" snapped Nova with a tone that brooked no disobedience.
"Aye aye, Ma'am!" he cried, running in as Nova snapped,
"Get over to the office and call up the OG! You," she snapped at
Wainwright (who wasn't exactly small), "Help me break this up!"
Nova then ran
over and snapped "STOP it, you two!" in a commanding voice, backed up
by Wainwright, who stood off at a short distance.
Angie tried to
stop and back off, but Tatiana didn't let her. "Lubyanska!" snapped
Nova. "I said...STOP it!"
Tatiana glared
at Nova in mid-punch, gritted her teeth, and then bashed Angie in the mouth
full force. Blood spattered onto the floor.
Seeing that her
orders didn't seem to be affecting the maddened young woman, Nova ran over and
tried to stand between Tatiana and a stunned-looking Angie. "Lubyanska,
she doesn't want to fight anymore! I said..."
Then, before
Nova could react, a fist slammed into her shoulder, making her reel back
against the locker with a loud bang. Nova yelped as she hit the locker, but she
just managed to keep her balance since she was barefoot and had better footing
than her assailant, who still had one boot off and one boot on.
Nova parried
Tatiana's next punch with the palm of her hand and then used her knee to try to
push her assailant back and take advantage of her imbalance. However, Tatiana
threw in another punch that connected with Nova's solar plexus.
Nova fell down
gasping with a loud "Oomph!" as, behind her, Angie yelped, jumping on
her assailant's back like a wildcat. Angered again, Angie scratched at
Tatiana's face as they went down, and Tatiana turned her head and spat at
Angie, trying to bite her.
At that,
Wainwright ran up, followed, a moment later, by two enlisted men who burst in
from outside with drawn sidearms.
"You've
got to break this up!" yelled Mendelmann as the enlisted men holstered
their weapons and grabbed Angie and the wildly flailing Tatiana around their
waists, pulling them apart without any hesitation. Wainwright ran over to
Nova's side, carefully helping her to her feet as she gasped and coughed.
"Thanks,"
she gasped.
"Who's the
ranking officer here?" barked one of the enlisted men.
"I
am," coughed Nova.
"You tried
to stop it, ma'am?" asked the bigger enlisted man, who had Tatiana's hands
pinned.
"I did,
Corporal," said Nova, recognizing the enlisted man from another post on
the base.
"Good,"
he said as he snapped, "STOP it, you idiot!" at Lubyanska as she
struggled one more time, just for show.
"Okay,"
he snapped. "Now, what's your name?"
"Junior
Lieutenant Tatiana Lubyanska," she said.
"Lieutenant,
you and your friend will have to go see the Base Commander, along with these
two witnesses," he said, looking at Mendelmann and Wainwright, "and,
last but not least, the ranking officer. Get yourselves dressed, and then,
we'll have to go and take a little trip..."
******
"Now, out
with it," said Priceman in his deep voice as he carried out, in his
office, an Article Fourteen proceeding, or "Captain's Mast", against
Lubyanska and Burkhardt, accused of fighting, and of Mendelmann and Wainwright,
accused of dereliction of duty for having not done enough to stop the fight.
Nova and the two enlisted men were present as witnesses. Priceman took a breath
and said, "In case you didn't catch on, ladies, which one of you started
this fight?"
"I did,
sir, after she grabbed at me," snapped Lubyanska.
"No, she
tripped me first," protested Burkhardt.
Priceman
examined the two younger women, who were at attention before his desk, with the
air of a biologist examining a particularly interesting species of bacteria.
"Well, Forrester?" he snapped. "What really happened? Who
threw the first punch? None of these two know anything," he said,
motioning towards Wainwright and Mendelmann, who were at attention to the left
of the two females.
"Sir, all
I know is that I heard Miss Burkhardt scream while I was taking off my sweaty
uniform," said Nova. "When I turned around, they were at each other
like that," she said, snapping her fingers for emphasis. "I ordered
them to stop it, they refused, and I called for these two to lend their aid in
breaking it up."
"And, as
we know, they hesitated," said Priceman. "That hesitation is the
reason they're here. So, what did YOU do, then, Miss Forrester?"
"When
Mister Wainwright came in, I ordered both of them to stop it again. Miss
Burkhardt stopped, but Miss Lubyanska kept on attacking her."
"What
happened then?" asked Priceman.
"I tried
to peacefully step in between them, and Miss Lubyanska attacked. I parried her
punch, and tried to trip her with my knee..."
"STOP. Why did you attempt to trip her?"
"To throw her off-balance, sir. To
neutralize the threat."
"I believe
you've been instructed in Aikido?" asked Priceman.
"Yessir; I
have a high rating in the art, as a matter of fact," said Nova.
"Which made that action inexcusable. You could've used a hold
to neutralize Miss Lubyanska...or you could have ordered the two young Ensigns
here to help you. I'm sure you have an effective command voice, don't
you?"
"Yessir,
I..."
"STOP,"
barked Priceman. "You were the ranking officer, Miss Forrester. You
should've used that command authority and presence to stop this, rather than
having had to resort to acting like one of the Three Musketeers. Who was your
most recent commanding officer before being posted to this assignment?"
"Deputy
Captain Wildstar, sir. I..."
"Wildstar...has
a record, self-admitted, of getting himself involved in minor fracases aboard his
own ship. I take it the fruit doesn't fall far from the tree, so to speak,
Miss Forrester?" grinned Priceman with an evil
glare. "I regret being forced to take this action, but I'm also charging
you with dereliction of duty, for the reason of not having done enough to stop
the fight between Miss Burkhardt and Miss Lubyanska by more...pacific
means...before restoring to the use of your knees as offensive weapons. It's
only because you were trying to stop it that I'm not charging you with
fighting. Do you have a defense to proffer?"
"Only that
I was trying to do my duty, sir. In my judgment, Miss Lubyanska seemed to be
somewhat dangerous...and in dealing with disturbed persons as a counselor, I've
discovered that the first thing you should do with someone who's violent is stop
their violence firmly but gently. In my judgment...I thought I was doing the
best thing for both of them. If you don't respect that judgment, sir, I'll
accept whatever consequences you have in store for me," said Nova quietly,
bowing her head a little.
"In that
event, I find you guilty of dereliction of duty, by your own admission. Since
the others have not admitted to their offenses, I find the all of rest of you
guilty by the weight of the evidence presented before me," said Priceman
as he looked down the row of silent faces. "I sentence all of you to two
hours' worth of punitive extra duty in the form of physical training. Said
training, by virtue of the cooler weather, is to be conducted in the gym,
commencing at sixteen-hundred on the mark. Miss Forrester will act as ranking
officer and drillmaster while running through all maneuvers herself."
"She will
bring a report of the day's duty to me in this office at precisely eightteen hundred and fifteen hours by presenting a written
report in person along with her comrades. Is that understood?"
"Yessir,"
said everyone.
"Good.
Forrester, get to it. Your squad has...eight minutes to get to that gym, change
into gym clothes, and commence your punishment. Get going!"
"Yessir!"
said Nova as she saluted in unison with the others. Then, they about-faced, and
left the office as quickly as possible.
A few minutes
later, right on time, a few officers having a basketball game in the gym
noticed three females and two guys in just their skivvies (boxer shorts for the
males, bras and panties for the females) bursting out of the ladies' and men's
locker rooms. Without further ado, they began to jog around the track marked
around the outer part of the gym, stopping after four laps to begin some
stretching exercises in the middle of one of the basketball courts.
After doing
those preliminary exercises, Nova, oblivious to the stares of a few of the
others, began to lead her class in the usual Daily Dozen of push-ups, sit-ups,
squat-thrusts, and other such exercises.
The others
followed along, mostly refusing to look at each other as they performed their
exercises.
After close to
an hour's worth of such calisthenics, Nova had her charges stretch, stand back
up, and then (even though she was a little out of breath), she said,
"Okay, now, we've got to run a few kilos around the gym to carry on with
this punishment. I'll lead, and everyone else will follow. Ready?" huffed
Nova as she led the others onto the track. "Let's go!"
As Nova ran
around the track, she began to sing a song she had learned while she had been a
squad leader leading plebes in Beast Barracks in her RTC classes at The
University of Colorado. "I don't know but I've been told..."
she began to sing, as the others responded with the same line.
"...the
streets o' heaven are paved with gold..."
"...the
streets o' heaven are paved with gold!" sang back the others as they ran around,
oblivious to the surprised stares of Wildstar, Laurel Hartmann, Bryan
Hartcliffe, and Darryl Pulvan as they came into the gym carrying their flight
bags.
"What the
HELL is going on?" asked Wildstar as he noticed the weird procession at
the far end of the gym.
"They're
being punished, far as I heard, sir," said one of the guys playing
basketball as he caught his breath. "They are in their underwear, you
notice."
Another one
said, "I heard something about a fracas before in one of the other
buildings."
"...Aye...three
a' them are females..." said Hartcliffe.
"Stop
staring," snapped
"Why? They're
cute," he rejoined.
"Mister,
I'm going to have to be in gym shorts in about two minutes for punitive PT of
my own, and if you're going to ogle me like that, I don't want to be in the
same room with you!," shot back Laurel.
"Wow..."
said Pulvan.
"Stop
staring, all of you!" snapped Wildstar. "Would you like it if people
stared at you the same way while I led YOU through PT for screwing up your
maneuvers?"
"I
wouldn't mind if they were female, sir," said Hartcliffe. "And,
furthermore...I....wooooooooo!,"
he yelled.
"Look at
that! They're not just females. They're BABES! And one of them's
me Angie! AY! ANGELIQUE! Y' GOT a pair! Nice legs, too! And...an...aye Wildstar! Sir! GREAT TASTE, man! Your fiancée looks
great in her lingerie!"
"...no....no...it can't be," muttered Derek to himself as he noticed
Nova leading the group. "It can't be you!"
"She looks
good, sir," said Hartcliffe.
"You...just
SHUT up," whispered Wildstar fiercely through gritted teeth as he noticed
Nova glancing his way, and then, just as quickly,
glancing away.
Oh,
Derek...why'd you have to show up now to see us screwing up? she thought as she ran.
"Why the heck is Miss Forrester making them do that?" asked Pulvan,
oblivious to Wildstar's angry stare.
"I hear
they were ordered to do it," said another one of the guys.
“I hear they
really screwed up,” yelled another one.
“Screwups!”
yelled another pilot.
"Everyone...into
the locker rooms...NOW!" barked Wildstar to his charges. "And you
people, QUIT staring!" added Wildstar. "When I work you
people...you'll have no opportunity to stare!"
******
A while later,
Nova, as per her orders, double-timed her charges down a street to Priceman's office. They were all thanking God that the wind
wasn't blowing too hard against their sweaty bodies as they ran, finally
working as a team. Ignoring the stares of the new Admin officer as she
explained the reason for their appointment, Nova led the other officers right
back onto the carpet before Priceman. Then, she snapped to an attention that
was just as proud and rigid as it would've been if she had been fully dressed
in uniform, neat and clean, as opposed to being in sweaty PT clothes and dirty
sneakers.
"At ease,
everyone," said Priceman. "Your report?"
"Sir, this
report will detail everything we've done in the past two hours," said Nova
as she caught her breath. “We did a lot of calisthenics and then some..running.”
Priceman read
the sweat-stained flimsy and nodded. "Not bad," he said. "All right. All of you have completed your punishment.
Get back to the gym, get dressed, for God's sakes, and post back to your
quarters. I think you've had enough excitement for today, ladies and gentlemen.
Now you see the value of working together?"
"Yessir,"
all of them snapped.
"Great,"
said Priceman. "That'll be all. Dismissed."
******
"Well?"
asked Nova as they walked back towards the gym in the dark at a normal pace.
"Bozhe moi, I'm
tired," said Tatiana. "How'd you ever learn to run at that kind of
pace, ma'am?"
"You pick
up all sorts of things in the Star Force," sighed
Nova. "Although I must admit I never had all that many guys staring at me
like that at once…like that. God, it's freezing out here!" She
stopped for a moment to cross her arms over herself. She was trying to walk in
the grass, brown as it was and cold as it was, since it was a little easier on
her un-sneakered feet. She had taken off her shoes because her feet hurt so
much.
"Leave me
alone," said Angie softly.
"What's
wrong?" said Tatiana. "Surely you're not still angry?"
"No...I'm
not," said Angie listlessly. "It's just...well....it's nothing. Nothing about you, anyway. I'm just...alone...and
cold."
"We're not
that far from the gym," said Nova. "But, I know what you mean...all
my muscles are cramping up in this cold. When we get in, everyone can get a
nice, warm shower before we get dressed and go home. C'mon, Angie. It was
pretty humiliating, but he could've done much worse to all of us."
"Nova...mind
if I catch up in a minute?" asked Angie. "I...see a fountain over
there. I just want a drink."
"Okay,"
said Nova. "Meet us in the gym."
Nova led
everyone to the gym while Angie walked along slowly, kicking at pebbles. She
walked up to the outdoor pedestal fountain and took a drink, sobbing as she
stood there all alone in the cold. Then, hoping that the others were in the
gym, she took off, running her heart out as she just ran towards an empty
hangar that was illuminated by only a few dim lights.
******
Inside the
hangar, which had a modicum of warmth, Angie just sat down on the cold floor,
curled up in a fetal position, and began to weep. She wept for quite a while,
sitting there like that in just her underwear. She had irrationally stripped in
the hangar because her PT clothes stank.
"WHY?
WHY?" she whispered in the echoing, empty darkness. "Why
the hell were you just pointing at me like a piece of meat, Bryan Hartcliffe,
you dirtball? WHY?" she sobbed.
Angie said
nothing else as she continued to cry on and on. Finally, she heard a soft, but
firm voice echoing across the hangar a few minutes later. "Angie?"
called the female voice. "Burkhardt? Are you IN
here?"
Nova, you lucky stiff, thought Angie with angry, clenched fists. You're so lucky.
You're back in your own warm clothes again…and…At least HE had the good grace
to make them stop LOOKING at YOU and defended you! Your fiancée loves you! I
don't know if
"Angie?"
called out Nova in the near-darkness as the wind blew around her, making her
feel cold even in her fresh, clean uniform, flight jacket, and boots. Poor
Angie! She must be freezing in those wet and sweaty PT shorts and t-shirt, thought
Nova. "Burkhardt? Come OUT!"
"No...I
don't want to face you now...not now..." said Angie, as she got up and
tiptoed barefoot across the cement floor to another doorway. "So, I'll
just slip off to..."
Angie got out
and ran across the grass to another hangar. A loud din was coming from either
that hangar or another one not far away, but she was just oblivious as she ran
on, looking for a place to run, a place to hide.
Angie ran to
the side door of the next hangar, ignoring the sting of the gravelly walk
against the soles of her feet as she opened the door and ran in....
....to something that looked like pandemonium.
IV. HOUSE OF
THE RISING SUN
Earth
Federal
Megalopolis
Idlewild
Space Naval Air Station
Thursday,
December 10, 2201
1906
Hours-Spacetime
This hangar,
like the one that Angelique Burkhardt had just left, was almost empty, save for
the hulks of two Type 100's and two Cosmo Tigers in the process of being
refitted for some purpose or another. As such, they had been "hangar
queens" for quite some time, although Angie was mystified as to why one of
the Tigers seemed to be painted glossy black under an elaborate mask of some
type that was evidently being taped to the Astrofighter's
fuselage during the day by flight crews.
What really
surprised Angie was the source of the noise in the hangar.
Off at the other end, down near another set of doors, someone had pulled in a
portable PT stage and a pair of flashing strobe lights cannibalized off another
hangar queen somewhere.
On the stage,
performing under the strobe lights, was a rock band
that obviously didn't belong there.
The band
consisted of a three guitarists and a drummer, who sat behind a battered
blue-flecked drum set with a painted bass-drum skin that proclaimed that the
name of the band was
_____________ THE SCARABS ____________
with the name being written
in strange-looking "psychedelic" lettering similar to that used in
the 1960's.
The drummer was
a fat bearded fellow that Angie didn't recognize. Neither did she recognize the
electric bass player, who was a very tall, thin man with a mustache whose hair
looked blonde in the dim, flashing light. And, furthermore, Angie didn't
recognize the bearded man with black shades who compulsively plucked the
strings of a very-expensive looking electric guitar as he wailed harmony into a
microphone.
She did,
however, recognize the tall man with sandy blonde hair, thick mustache, and
distinctive little round John Lennon-style glasses who was either singing,
belching or screaming (she wasn't sure which) a rather twisted set of lyrics.
Angie guessed he was trying to sing the old twentieth-century blues piece
"House of the Rising Sun" as he strummed convulsively at a
black and white Rickenbacker 320 electric guitar.
Given her mood,
her introduction was not gentle. Angie simply ran up to a startled Bryan
Hartcliffe and slapped him across the face.
"Hey, why
the heck did y' ave to come 'ere and do THAT, Angie?,"
he snapped in protest as the band clanged to a halt.
"Why did
you have to point me out to everyone as a nice piece of MEAT while I was
running around almost half-naked in my skivvies as a punishment today,
"Well...why
the 'ell haven't ye put your clothes back on, ya dumb bird?" shot back
"I took
those sweaty things off because I was too upset, and because maybe I thought
your friends would like a better look since you were all ogling me in that
gym!" she sobbed. "Here,
Hartcliffe took
off his guitar and yelled, "Angie, STOP that! Mick! Gimme me jacket!"
"Uhh...sure..,"
said the drummer, who tossed Hartcliffe his flight jacket as the others stood
goggle-eyed. Hartcliffe set down his guitar with a loud wail of feedback and
forcefully, but gently, wrapped Angie up in his jacket, leaving him in his
blues.
"What are
you doing that for?" she asked.
"You'll
freeze your tail off running' round like that! Case y' haven't noticed, you can
like, see your breath in 'ere! And put your bloody shoes back on! Your feet'll freeze off!"
"Okay...you've
covered me up," sobbed Angie. "I don't have any shoes to put on,
"Where are
they?"
"I threw
them outside,
"Okay. Who
made you run around like that like an idiot? That stupid bird
Nova?"
"No, it
was Priceman, the base commander."
"WHO?"
said Hartcliffe dangerously.
"Commander
Priceman. He punished Tatiana and I for fighting, and
he punished Mendelmann, Wainwright, and Forrester for all letting us fight.
None of us liked being punished, but it’s par for the
course, I guess. But Nova’s fiancée couldn’t ogle her while we were running,
and, as I saw, he made you people go into the showers and then not look at us
because he couldn't bear seeing her humiliated like that, either! The man, you
note, is very chivalrous! I was wishing you would've done the same thing!"
"I made a
joke, but you know, deep down, I was burnin'
inside."
"Why?"
shot back Angie.
"Because,
I DO care about you, ya bleedin' bird! Haven't you
noticed...I've been tryin' to hang around with you a lot lately?"
"So, what
does that mean?"
"It means
I care for you, Angie. I do. Honest, luv," said Hartcliffe as a little of
his brogue faded away for a moment. "You guys, get outta 'ere!," he barked at the rest of the Scarabs. "We're reschedulin' rehearsal for Sunday night, y' idiots!"
"Yeah,
okay," said Mick.
"What
about our gig?," asked the bassist, who also
sounded Anglian.
"Rehearsin' for that hotel gig in
"Wedding? You mean you rejects actually got a real gig?"
giggled Angie.
"Yeah. For this society dame's weddin'
in
"Snooty,"
said Angie. "Mind if I sing along at the wedding if I can get leave?"
"Yeah, we
could use a bird doin' backup vocals," laughed
"What's
this?"
"Your fave rave drink, luv. Vodka. Chug
it oop."
Angie took a
long sip, feeling the unnatural warmth going down to her toes as she heard a
soft voice calling out, "ANGIE???"
"Oh,
shoot, man, they spotted the rehearsal spot."
"Not if we
can help it, Pat," said Hartcliffe. "You, and you, go out that way,
out back. Pat, you go that way, and tell the crazy bird there's no one in 'ere.
Me and you...Angie...we're makin' a break for the office. Up that flight o'
stairs, and oop we go..."
Angie and Bryan
fled up a flight of stairs in the dark, up to an office that was in an overhang
of the ceiling.
Inside the
small office, Hartcliffe rolled down some blinds and turned on a dim desk
light. He took a deep breath and sat down on a dropcloth
stretched out on the floor.
"Well...no
one'll find us 'ere...at least not for several
hours."
"Then,
shouldn't you take me home?" asked Angie.
"Yes, and
no," said Hartcliffe as he took another swig of vodka and then passed the
bottle to Angie, who was feeling lighter and more giggly
as the moments went by. "I'd say, yeah, except for one thing. I think
we're both gettin' close to the legal limit."
"Limit of
what?" asked Angie dreamily as she took some more vodka, this time on her
own, while cuddling against Hartcliffe, telling herself it was just to keep
warm.
"The
limit, luv, of legal intoxication," he purred while he found himself
stroking Angie's leg.
Angie noticed
the attention, and was unsure how to react. After a moment of looking at
"What?"
"Give a
nice, soft interview in a whisper," she said.
"About what, luv?"
"The personal
life of Bryan Hartcliffe," whispered Angie. "I think it's improving
far too quickly for him, and he's very, very surprised," said Angie as she
licked her lips....
V. ENTER THE
CAPTAIN
Earth
Federal
Megalopolis
Vicinity of
Idlewild Space Naval Air Station
Friday,
December 11, 2201
0406
Hours-Spacetime
"So, we're
up an hour early," said Wildstar as he drove towards the base in PT sweats
with Nova beside him in the aircar, also wearing her sweats. It had obviously
been too cold that morning to run PT in shorts and a t-shirt. "I have the
feeling this isn't so we both can work out a bit more, Nova."
"No, it's
not," said Nova. "Remember when I was telling you...about when we had
to endure that punishment yesterday?"
"Yeah. That Priceman went a little too far, I think, making all of
you run on and on for several hours. Like, almost two hours?"
"I sort of
agree with you, but, remember, it was still my duty," said Nova. "You
remember I told you that I got in so late because Burkhardt was missing?"
"Yes, I
remember that now. She still can't be missing, Nova. Someone's got to have
found her by now."
"I hope
so," said Nova in a worried tone that radiated her honest concern for her
friend and squadron mate.
It was rather
fortunate that Nova was unaware of Angie's current predicament.
******
"Hmmm..."
sighed Angie pleasantly as she woke up on her beau's chest on the desk.
"Mornin',
luv," muttered Hartcliffe.
"Good
morning,
"Ah...don't
worry, luv. You told me this hangar's not used all that mooch."
"You said
that," said Angie.
"No, you
did. Right when you were, you know..."
"What?"
asked Angie, who was trying, unsuccessfully, to unmuss
her hair.
"When you
were givin' me a very nice gift of yourself,
luv," said Hartcliffe impishly. "Hey, what'cha doing NOW?" he
asked.
"Guess,"
said Angie as she curled herself around Hartcliffe.
Angie sighed as
she began to kiss
"Hello?"
cried Nova as she ran into a hangar at the far end of the base. "Anyone in there?"
Silence was her
only answer. She looked in the hangar, and saw nothing but a few quiet hangar
queens.
Where could
they be?
she thought. Suddenly, an inspiration hit her. Maybe the hangar near the gym?
Knowing that
she'd have to tell Derek where she was going, and knowing that it would take
a while, Nova ran off towards the gym.
About half an
hour later, Nova came to the hangar she was interested in checking out. She
walked up, tapped at the door, and cried, "Hello? Angie? Are you in
there?"
"Oh,
no," muttered Angie from the other side of the door.
"...Nova..."
"Oh,
shoot, not another one!" mumbled Hartcliffe.
"Silence,
idiot!" snapped a deep voice that Nova didn't recognize. "Miss
Burkhardt is in here. Are you alone?"
"Yes;
Lieutenant Commander Wildstar's searching the adjacent building!"
"Then
enter! Let's say we have an emergency, and that we could use you for a
bit."
Nova opened the
door and snapped a salute as soon as she saw an older man in a Captain's
peacoat standing there near Angie Burkhardt...(who
seemed to have on nothing but Hartcliffe's flight jacket) and Bryan Hartcliffe.
The older man
briskly returned it and said, " It's refreshing
to know that some people in here have respect for senior officers. Good
morning, Miss Forrester. My name's Captain Joseph Burkhardt,
and the father of the young lady in this little tragedy. I'm the skipper of the
patrol cruiser
"The
"She's
fine...not too many casualties. Let's say that your uncle Hiram and I spent
some time talking as we aided in the repair of each other's ships. We were
about to head in sans wave-motion guns to tell the Earth Government and Zordar
what we thought of their surrender when you and your shipmates beat us to the
punch and did it first. When we heard everything, we stood down a bit and
decided to head for Ganymede under radio silence, while, of course, looking for
stragglers. Your reputation precedes you. Avatar did a darn good job teaching
you kids what to do when the chips were down and you've got everyone's
gratitude. Now, if you wouldn't mind doing me a favor and getting my daughter
some clothes, since she can't run around in just her dirty skivvies," said
Burkhardt as he held up Angie's undershorts and bra.
What the
heck is she doing undressed? thought Nova in a
befuddled fashion for a moment as it suddenly came to her what had happened. He
caught them up to something! Boy, I'll bet you two are in trouble now!
"I don't
have the combination for her locker, but I think I have a spare uniform or a
dress or something in mine," said Nova. "I'll be back in a moment.
What's going on?" gasped Nova as she caught a look at Hartcliffe's
bruised-up and bleeding face.
"Just a
family discussion," said Burkhardt blandly. "He was just caught in a
dumb brawl with some friends," lied Burkhardt as
he shocked Hartcliffe by winking in his direction. "If you wouldn't mind
getting someone to bring up a few supplies for his face, and getting someone
you trust to guard this door for a few minutes..."
"Are you
sure he's all right, Angie?" asked Nova.
"He's
fine...I think," said Angie uneasily.
I ain't
fine! thought Hartcliffe. Ah think a tooth's loose. Most
irate Daddy I ever met in me life...
Hartcliffe
himself lied, nodding as Nova stepped away.
"Again,
Miss Forrester, do get my daughter some clothes, "
growled Burkhardt. "I don't want her catching cold for what could soon be
the most important day of her life..."
"Right. Sure," said Nova as she walked out, unsure
of what to make of all this, although, granted, she was doing a good job of
adding up two and two even as she left the room, having been a counselor for
quite some time as a Living Officer.
If it's what
I think it is, thought Nova, I'd better cover for them and get them a good
"guard" right away...and I think I've got just the person around to
keep this quiet until Captain Burkhardt decides what to do...
At that,
Burkhardt said, "Now, back to where we left off, Hartcliffe, before I began
to use you as a punching bag..." He shocked the pilot by addressing by
name for the first time in this unpleasant conference. "What this boils
down to is this. There's a very good chance that you've gotten my daughter
pregnant. That may not be the case, but if it is, we must act
accordingly."
"I don't
want a formal inquiry, because this is never going to happen again, either
way," said Burkhardt bluntly. "Never. I
don't want my daughter's career ruined, nor that of
the father, or, rather, the potential father of her child. So.
You two have two choices, and only two, as I see it. You two will either do the right thing and get married, or you will stay
away from each other...forever."
"What if
she's preggers?" asked Hartcliffe.
"If she
is, than you have all the more incentive to marry her, because if you don't,
and I ever catch you sneaking around her again, I'll make sure you NEVER sneak
around another henhouse in your life, Mister! Do I make myself clear?"
"Yessir,"
said Hartcliffe.
"So, what
is it?" snapped Burkhardt.
"It's
this...but I've got to ask 'er, first," retorted
Hartcliffe.
Hartcliffe
turned away from her father and took Angie's hands. "Angie,
luv. Will you bleedin' marry me?"
The room fell
silent as Angie huddled in
"Thanks,"
said Hartcliffe as a heavy hand fell on his shoulder.
Hartcliffe
warily turned his head and noticed Captain Burkhardt smiling at him.
"Congratulations, you cretinous idiot," he
chuckled. "Welcome to the family, son. Now, if you can forget what
happened before, I'll forget what evidently happened last night, too."
"Agreed,
sir," said Hartcliffe.
"Great,"
said Burkhardt. "Now, if you two can get relieved from duty for part of
the day, we can take care of some things, such as preparing to get this over
with by tomorrow afternoon."
"TOMORROW
afternoon?" cried Hartcliffe.
"Yes,
tomorrow afternoon," chuckled Burkhardt. "Consider this a
twenty-third century shotgun wedding, you son-of-a-gun! I'm not gonna rest
until you two are legal. Then, I'm gonna take some of that Vodka from you, take
a big drink and let you two get back down to business."
"Daddy, I
don't...have any money for a dress," said Angie softly.
"Fine. What about you?" he snapped in Hartcliffe's direction.
"I'm broke
'til payday, sir."
"Fine. Get anything done right, you gotta do it yourself,"
snorted Burkhardt as he pulled a wad of credit notes out of his pocket. He
distractedly began to count them as he turned towards a wall, looking at a
blueprint of a plane.
A tap came at
the door. "Enter!" barked Burkhardt as Nova came in, carrying a dress
and her pink dress sandals along with a medkit.
"Good,
we've got medical help. Miss Forrester, would you tend to that benighted soul
after you hand my daughter some clothes?"
" Sure. They're mine, but I think they should more or less
fit," said Nova as she handed Angie the clothes. "I hope my shoes
will fit," she said as she opened the medkit to treat Hartcliffe.
"They're
fine," said Angie as she took the clothes from Nova. "Thanks. I think
they'll fit fine."
"They
will, luv," leered Hartcliffe. "Nice,
Nova. And yer perfume don't smell too bad, either, luv."
"Thanks.
But I didn't wear it for you, you understand." smiled Nova sweetly.
"Of course. Oh, yer hands are so soft." he whispered
as Nova began to treat his wounds.
"Sit
still," whispered Nova as she slapped him lightly. "And if you don't
stop the comments, I'll report you."
"To who?"
"To
Angie," she whispered sweetly.
"Oh,"
chuckled Hartcliffe.
"Did you
post a guard?" asked Burkhardt as Angie stepped into a closet to get
dressed.
"Uh-huh,"
said Nova as she rapidly finished treating Hartcliffe. I wish I could wash my
hands, and not just on account of the disinfectant spray! Mister Randy Tomcat
here should be fumigated! she thought.
"Derek's out there. He has NO idea what's going on, but as far as he's
concerned, Hartcliffe's on sick call for the day."
"Good.
What about my daughter?"
"I ran
into Hardy a minute ago, and it's the same for her. He excused me to look after
her for the day."
"Great,"
said Burkhardt. "What are you up to today?"
"Not much,
although since this training day was to let out early, my mother was going to
take me out looking at wedding dresses," blushed
Nova. "Sorry...but Derek and I are getting married in just fifteen
days...I've got to get something decent to make me look the part of a
bride."
"Great.
Take her with you and buy her a wedding dress with this," said Burkhardt
as he shoved the wad of bills at a surprised Nova. "Is anyone from her
squadron free tomorrow?"
"Why?"
asked Nova.
"Well,
they're getting married tomorrow, so, they'll need witnesses," snapped
Burkhardt.
"I can be
there," offered Nova.
"Really?"
cried Angie as she ran up, hugging Nova. "Thank you!"
"You're
welcome," said Nova softly. "You look very nice in that, by the
way," said Nova. "First time I've ever seen you in a dress! You
should wear one more often!"
"Thanks,"
blushed Angie.
"Good.
Take her out shopping," said Burkhardt.
"What are
you doing with Hartcliffe?" asked Nova.
"I'm
taking him with me on a few errands to get some papers and certificates. I'll
meet you two back at the Base CO's office at 1400,
and I'll bring Mister Hartcliffe, all right?"
"Fine,"
said Nova.
"Great.
Carry on, girls," said Burkhardt.
Nova and Angie
saluted and left. Outside, Burkhardt heard Wildstar's voice as he and Hardy
greeted Nova and Angie, and he smiled to himself as they left, especially as he
heard Nova airily saying, "...and I'm sorry, but we can't take you with us
later, Derek. It'd be bad luck for you to see my dress before the
ceremony!"
"Well,
they're gone," said Burkhardt. "Now, there's everything you and I
have to do."
"Papers
and certificates?" asked Hartcliffe.
"Darn
right, son," said Burkhardt. "You aren't getting out of my sight
today until you and my daughter get that license. By the way, don't I have to
take you back to your quarters for a proper dress coat? Those flight jackets
are all right, but I'd rather see you looking reputable when I introduce you to
your mother-in-law later today."
Crud, thought Hartcliffe. I'm
dead! He's bloody serious!
VI. HERE
COME THE BRIDES
Earth
Federal
Megalopolis
Conklin's
Bridal Gazebo
Friday,
December 11, 2201
1102
Hours-Spacetime
Angelique
Burkhardt, although she had come from middle-class surroundings, felt rather
uneasy in the rarefied atmosphere of Conklin's bridal department as she sat in
her borrowed dress in a thick white plush chair looking at a huge white bridal
catalog. Across the table from her, against a wall backdrop that looked like
the white wood-style latticework of a fancy garden gazebo, a young woman with
expensive wire-rimmed glasses sat with a filebox of
cards ready to tend to her needs.
"Just tell
me what you like," she said softly.
It's not
what I like: it's more like: what can I afford here, even with Daddy's money? thought Angie. "Well, my
fiancé's not too traditional."
"Then I
take it this will be informal?," asked the clerk,
who wore a small badge identifying her as a "Conklin's Bridal
Coordinator"
"Yes, I'm
afraid so."
"No need
to be afraid of anything," said the coordinator reassuringly. "I just
assumed that, perhaps, this was a double wedding since you came in with
Lieutenant Forrester."
"You knew
of her, then?"
"This was
her appointment day," she said softly. "Her mother's a regular
customer at our
"My
mother's in town, but she's not exactly well," said Angie. It's more
like she's in the hospital, and we're not sure if she'll make it, she
thought.
"I'm so
sorry. Well, it's just us, then. What do you like?"
Angie flipped a
page, and said, "cute", over one dress. She
nodded at another, and then, finally, her eyes lit up over another dress that
the coordinator was skipping over.
"That
one," she said eagerly.
"Are you
certain?" she asked. "That's a ...summer design."
"But my
fiancé' will love it! Do you have one in stock in my size?"
"I believe
I...do..." the coordinator said. "But, I'd
reconsider. It is somewhat cool out, and..."
"Please.
That's what I want."
"Of course. A bride can never be wrong," said the
coordinator softly, while the look in her eyes thought otherwise. "You
said this was your size on the registration form, Miss Burkhardt?," she asked.
"Yes."
"We have
one. Monique over there will assist you. Do you just want the dress, or would
you like to consider the whole ensemble?"
"I want
that veil, that garter, and the shoes that go with the one on the next page,
please," said Angie, pointing out a few details.
"Of course. Monique?" called the coordinator.
"Yes?"
"These are
Miss Burkhardt's selections. She's interested in a
Rivera Lace, with the Halston veil and garter and the
Allison's Breeze shoes with the lace-up ribbons, please. The numbers are on the
sheet."
"Of course. This way, please, and we'll try everything
on," said Monique.
"Sure."
The coordinator
shook her head quietly and then walked over around a corner to another table,
where she heard Nova talking with her mother.
"Mother,
it's sort of settled. I'd either like the Besame' or the
Diana gowns you picked out."
"But I
picked those two before I remembered you and Derek were going to
"You've
heard of heating and coats, I'm sure?" chuckled
Nova, who had stopped at home to change into a blue dress and boots for this
shopping trip. "And, besides, you know how funny
"How
warm?" asked the coordinator.
"Well, one
day, I ran around in shorts two days after Christmas."
"And I
almost killed you," said Teri. "Listen, Genine...I
can't let her get married in either of those. She'll get sick of cold
and..."
"Mrs.
Forrester, you can advise, but it's never wise to tell a bride no. She
obviously has her heart set on one of these two gowns and they both look regal.
Which one would you like first?"
"The Besame'," said Nova. "Even if I don't like it for
myself, I think something like that in pastel shades would be lovely for my
bridesmaids."
"Pastel?"
asked the coordinator.
"Pastels. I'd like all my bridesmaids to look like
a...sort of rainbow in that church."
"I think
that's beautiful," said the coordinator. "What about the
ensemble?"
"I've got
that set," said Nova. "Your old veil, Mom, but this Cloudsweep will look sort of like it. Along with it, I'd
like the Halston gloves and those Cindi's
shoes on the next page."
"The
Starlight Breeze sandals?" asked the coordinator.
Nova nodded and
smiled, while Teri said, "But your feet will freeze, too!"
"I don't
mind," said Nova.
"Now for
hose, we're a little limited, and..."
"That's
okay. I think those would look cuter without on me without hose."
"NOVA! You're crazy! This is NOT June!"
"Mother,
I'll be fine. I'm going to probably dance in bare feet anyway at the
reception..."
"No you
won't!"
"We'll
see, Mother," smiled Nova. "Here we go. Let's try it all on,
okay?" said Nova while the coordinator wrote in down.
"Of
course, Miss," said the coordinator. "Patricia!"
"Yes?"
"Assist
Miss Forrester with these, please."
"Of course."
Nova left while
Genine poured a nervous Teri some tea. "You look
terrible."
"She's my
baby, and I'm losing her," whispered Teri. "And she's SO
independent!"
"She's
wonderful," said Genine. "Who's the girl
she brought in with her?"
"A friend of
hers from flight training named Angelique. From what I understand, she and her
fiancée' decided to get married on the spur of the moment. Nova said something
about the fact that the father encouraged it."
"Who's she
marrying?"
"Another pilot."
"I see,"
said Genine as she thought. It's a cosmo-gun
wedding. It has to be. And she's probably pregnant! That's why she chose that
short thing! "I'm afraid that I met your sister the other day,"
said
Genine sadly.
"Which
one?" asked Teri.
"Yvona,"
she sniffed.
"Her?"
she cried.
"Her. She
tried to hand me a poorly printed tract. I took it anyway. Then, I read it. How
did she ever get that way? The church...she espouses, doesn't seem Catholic,
Protestant, Pagan, Jewish, Muslim, Buddhist, Shinto or anything I've heard of.
There was something on there about the "Christian Union", but there
seemed to be nothing remotely Christian about her church," said Genine in a whisper. "I'm a decent Baptist, and I
don't even mind baptisms in a stream, even though I think they're a
little...rustic...but "Baptisms in Blood, Ashes and Brimstone?" And "Avenging Black Angels and Torturers?" And "Sacrificing Holocausts of our Children?" And the "New Death?" Sure, I've heard of the
"New Birth", but...this...and she said she was the Prophetess of
Judgment?"
"My sister
Yvona is very ill," said Teri in a sad tone of voice. "And she's
gotten worse, ever since all those miscarriages...years ago..."
"Shouldn't
she be put away?"
"She was,
briefly. But, she was let go in a few weeks. She never actually seemed to be
dangerous to herself or others."
"But...she
was standing there in a...a...sackcloth dress! And she had on sandals made of
rope and old tires, and her hair looked like a witch's head of hair! And she
was screaming with her followers about "Your children are next! Your
children are NEXT!""
"When will
our children be next?"
"You
haven't seen her?"
"I haven't
heard her preach lately," said Teri. "I haven't...cared to."
"She
says..."Your children will be next...when the "Dark Lord"
comes."
"Oh, God. She's worshipping the devil now,"
whispered Teri.
"She
said..."when He came from above." I know the Bible says there'll be a
Last Judgment, but a Dark Lord? Who could that be?"
"She's
seriously ill. I have to talk to her husband," said Teri. "And that's
all I'll say about my sister Yvona for now, Genine,
if it's..."
"Excuse
me?" said Nova in a soft voice.
Teri and Genine turned to see Nova floating up in a veil, gloves,
and a classic, clean, trim long dress with a sort of low neckline that left her
shoulders bare. With each step, her bare toes peeked out in intricate white and
silver high-heeled sandals that were definitely made of neither rope nor old
tires.
"That's
beautiful on you!" said Teri. "Do you like it?" she asked as her
daughter gingerly stepped up onto a little platform before some mirrors.
"I
do...but, give me some time to think," said Nova softly as she smiled at
herself in the mirror, assisted by the other clerk.
A moment later,
Nova turned her head, just in time to see Angelique coming up behind her.
Angelique was
in white, with a veil and she wore dress sandals, too, but the resemblance
ended there. Where Nova's dress was ankle-length, heavy, and sleek, Angie's was
lacy, light, and mid-thigh length, showing off her beautiful bare legs to
perfect advantage. Her veil was longer than the dress, while Nova's was just
shoulder-length. Where Nova wore long gloves, Angie wore none. Nova's sandals
were trim things that covered nothing above the ankle, but Angie's had satin
straps that wound halfway up her calf, almost to her knee, making it look a
little like she was wearing airy open-toe boots rather than sandals.
Angie grinned
at herself in the mirror while Nova looked uneasily at her own dress in the
mirror and then at Angie, thinking, Cute shoes and veil, Angie...but where's
the GOWN? No...I'm being too cruel...it's cute...but, God,
is it short. And...my neckline covers enough...but is
it too high? How would the Diana look on me?
"Well?"
said Monique, Angie's salesperson.
"I'll take
it. Could you just wrap it up, please? He'll love it!"
"Of
course," she said as she and the coordinator disappeared with Angie to
begin consummating the purchase.
"Mom? What do YOU think?" asked Nova.
"It's darling, Nova...but..."
"Can you
bring me the book, please?" asked Nova.
"Sure."
The salesgirl
left, and Nova turned to her mother. "Angie doesn't have enough for her
dress. I can help a little...but..."
"Nova...are you asking me to help your friend?"
"Yes.
She's in love with that little dress."
"What's
her fiancée like?"
"Crazy,"
giggled Nova. "And he'll just love it."
"Well...I
can help..." said Teri, "But...you know we have to buy you your
things, and get your bridesmaids their gowns...and they'll have to chip in
something for them. If she can't chip in, I don't think she can be in the
bridal party, Nova."
"That's
okay," sighed Nova. "I'll put in a bit more
for her. She has to leave that store in that dress."
"And what about you? We have to have it selected by today so
we can get it to
"Just a
moment," said Nova as the other salesgirl came up. "I like this...but
I think this'll be a nice design for my bridesmaids. I want something
different, please. Something to set me apart.
Something my fiancée will love."
"The
Diana?" said the salesgirl as Teri's face dropped.
Nova nodded.
"Let's just see how I look in that, first, of course," said Nova
diplomatically with a glance towards her mother.
But, one look
at the dress in the book had made up Nova's mind. She would literally look like
a princess at her wedding, and she knew it.
VII. MR AND
MRS. HARTCLIFFE
Earth
Megalopolis
Idlewild
Space Naval Air Station Chapel
Saturday,
December 12, 2201
1136
Hours-Spacetime
"Hardy?"
murmured Derek Wildstar in the basement of the Base Chapel as the appointed
hour approached.
"Yeah?"
"How do we
ever get ourselves into these situations?"
"What
situations?" asked Hardy as he and Wildstar stood near a punch table in which
Nova, even in her pink knee-length dress, violet pumps, and corsage, was
sprucing up on a last-minute basis by adding a few banana slices to the punch.
"Getting
you, me, and Pulvan from our squadron to help out with Hartcliffe's
wedding," said Derek as he stood there adjusting the high red collar on
his short blue peacoat.
"Easy,"
said Hardy. "Nova asked you to accompany her as the Maid of Honor, which
meant you had to be Hartcliffe's Best Man."
"Yeah,"
said Wildstar, who didn't sound all that enthusiastic or quite buy this. Derek
thought, Why couldn't Hartcliffe get his own
best man?
"What's
wrong?" asked Nova as she pirouetted to face her fiancée in her heels.
"Nothing,"
smiled Derek sheepishly.
"I hope
not," smiled Nova. "Especially since you'd better be bright-eyed and
bushy-tailed at the next wedding you attend, in just two weeks, sir. "
"If you
think I'm not gonna be ready for that wedding, you, Miss Forrester, are dead
wrong," grinned back Derek.
"Okay. But
what's the problem here?" asked Nova.
"Well...it's
just so...sudden. And I don't believe it."
"I believe
it," said Nova. "And, well, they were in love, and they weren't going
to let anything stand in their way. And I don't want anything disappointing
Angie...like an inattentive honor guard," said Nova as she walked over to
Pulvan.
"How come
we didn't get swords?" he asked.
"It's not
a full-dress ceremony, that's why," said Nova. "There's something in
the regs that stipulates you have to have at least four groomsmen to have an
arch of swords."
"You're
just making that up, ma'am," said Pulvan.
"No, I'm
not," said Nova. "I'm..."
"Da...what is WITH you, ma'am?," asked Tatiana Lubyanska as
she walked in wearing a green dress and open-toe pumps.
"What're
YOU doing here?" asked Pulvan. "Hartcliffe tells me you HATE
Angie!"
"Not since
the other night. Working together reconciled us," said Tatiana. "Bozhe moi, it's chilly down
here!"
"You're in
pink. You're in green," said Hardy, who was relieved that Pulvan would be
standing next to Tatiana during the ceremony. "Someone's in blue. Who's
that?"
"Just me,
sir," said Kristin Pawlings, a young blonde girl
in a blue suit who was one of the pilot trainees in Wildstar's squadron.
"Oh.
You're cute!" said Hardy with a smile.
"Thanks,
but I'm taken," said Kristin as she twirled over, pointing out an
engagement ring. "Walt and I are doing ours in June after he finishes his
new tour of duty at Titan with the Green Hornets. Do you mind if I give you a
note from someone, though?"
"Who?"
"An old friend of mine from school. I met her at the new
Ministry of Science Survey School not long ago, and, well, she's heard all
about you."
"She has?
Who is she?"
"Can't
give away the secret, can I?" smiled Kris. "She wants to have a blind
date with you, next Wednesday night, at 1900. Meet her at these sealed
coordinates. And if you don't meet her, she will hunt you down and kill
you," grinned Kris.
"Okay,"
said Hardy. "I'll be theh." Even though I have no idea who she is
or what she looks like, he added to himself.
Before long,
everyone was in their places in the sanctuary before a small altar. The Base
Commander, Wildstar and Hardy's squadron, and one of Angie's uncles, along with
her father, were the only ones in attendance, although Hartcliffe's parents and
sister had sent their good wishes and some bouquets from
Nova and Derek
stood right behind Bryan and Angie as they said their vows before the Base
chaplain. As the ceremony went on, they found themselves holding hands
surreptitiously.
"Nova?"
whispered Derek.
"Yes?"
"You
know...it's going to be our turn next."
"I
know," whispered Nova, who went quiet as she heard
"Do you,
Angelique Burkhardt, take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have
and to hold, in sickness and in health, until death do
you part?"
"I
do," said Angie softly.
"Therefore,
by the powers vested in me, I pronounce you both husband and wife. Let no man
put asunder you, whom God hath put together. Mister Hartcliffe, you may now
kiss your bride."
Everyone
applauded as Hartcliffe winked lasciviously and planted his lips full on
Angie's mouth, dipping her down in his arms as they kissed. Even Angie's father
had a smile for the new couple then. That fool pilot may be trashy, but he's
certainly got some style about him, he thought as Bryan then gallantly
helped Angie back upright and yelled, "This is me missus now! Don't any o'
you ever forget it, GOT that?"
"We
won't," said Pulvan with a laugh as the sun came through a stained-glass
window and shone in his red hair.
During the
small reception in the basement, there was some partying and merriment with
punch and the like.
After having a
dance with Angie, as tradition required, Wildstar went
back to Nova and said, "There's one thing I've been wondering about,
Nova."
"And that
is?"
"I see
Angie's father here...but, where's her mother?"
"Her mum
was unable to come, sir," said Hartcliffe as he appeared behind them.
"Well,
where is she?"
"She's in
"I
see."
"We were
gonna go and see 'er after the reception,
y'know...right before we go off to our motel for the night. We 'ave to, to tell
'er we've been married. You two wanna come?"
"Sure,"
said Nova after she glanced at Derek, who nodded. "We'd be honored. Did
you tell your parents?"
"I did so
this mornin'. Unfortunately, they don't 'ave the money to show up. Someday, I'm
gonna take Angie back to
"That
sounds very nice," said Nova.
"Hey...we
have to do some things right," said Hartcliffe. "I'll see you in a
few minutes, when we toss the garter and bouquet and stuff, all right?"
"Right,"
said Wildstar, who nodded a farewell to the groom as he left.
"I don't
believe it," said Wildstar in a low voice as he shook his head. "He
has a decent side."
"Everyone
does, Derek," replied Nova softly in a gently chiding voice. "His was
just buried pretty deep, I guess. That's all. I think marriage will change
him...for the better."
"Could
be," said Wildstar. "But, remember, he's still a fighter pilot. You
know, pilots still have that edge, that drive..."
"And don't
I know that?," smiled Nova. "But, I've also
noticed that responsibility makes some pilots...especially some I know very
well, grow up quite a bit more."
"I
know," smiled Derek, as he and Nova held hands for a moment.
"What's
marriage going to do to this pilot?" whispered Nova in a soft voice.
"Well, I
think we'll find out in about two weeks..." smiled Wildstar; right before
they began to sneak a kiss.
"Scuse
me... Wildstah..." called out another voice behind them as someone tapped
them on the shoulder.
"Hardy! What's going on?" snapped Wildstar.
"Hey...you
two have two weeks to wait," he chuckled.
"Very funny, Hardy. What's up?" asked Derek after he broke
free from his clinch with Nova.
"It's
about time to toss Angie's garter, and then to toss her bouquet. You comin?"
"I'll be
on my way," said Wildstar.
A moment later,
a giggling Angie was seated in a chair with her shoes off. Hartcliffe smooched her leg repeatedly as he pulled down the garter
over her leg and foot, finally getting it off a moment later.
Wildstar,
Hardy, Pulvan, and the rest of the males from the two squadrons were gathered
together to attempt to catch it. Wildstar was embarrassed as he could possibly
be about this, since he knew that he'd have to put the garter up the leg of the
female who caught the bouquet if he got it. Nova had whispered to him that she
was not terribly anxious for him to catch it, and would not be terribly
thrilled if he caught it.
The garter was
tossed, and after a scuffle, Hardy emerged with the garter. He and Hartcliffe
embraced and laughed.
"You're
gonna have some fun with that in a few minutes, sir!" called out
Hartcliffe.
"Hope the
one ah'll put this one is pretty!" cried Hardy.
"I hope
it's not me!," cried an unidentified female voice
from Wildstar's squadron.
A minute or so
later, Angie, now garter-less, stood before a group of about nine other
females, ready to toss her bouquet. Hartcliffe spun her around a few times, and
then, leaving her thoroughly disoriented, turned his giggling, still-barefoot
bride around so that she wasn't even facing the laughing females in the other
group, all of whom had removed their shoes so they wouldn't slip in the
scuffle.
Angie whipped
the bouquet over her right shoulder, and another scuffle took place. When it
ended, a laughing and very embarrassed Nova emerged holding the bouquet.
"Congratulations!," called out Tatiana Lubyanska. "You'll be
getting married next."
"Yes, I
know," said Nova, who thought, right...as if everyone didn't know I'll
be marrying Derek soon. They set me up for this!
"C'mon,
Nova," smiled Hardy. "Time for me to do my
duty."
"Uh....couldn't
you just give that to me...or let Derek do it?" stammered Nova.
"Yeah...that
might be a good idea," said Wildstar.
"No...no way, sir," said Hartcliffe, who came up smiling with
Angie. "We've got to do this. Otherwise...her dad might kill me..."
"He
wouldn't!" cried Angie.
"Hey...how
do I know that?"
"All
right," said Nova primly. "I'll do it...but I'm keeping my eyes
closed the whole time!"
"Good.
That means ah can tickle you a little, Miss Forrester," chuckled Hardy.
"If you
do, I'll kick you," said Nova. "Even in stocking feet, it
won't feel nice."
"Let's
just do it, all raight?" said Hardy.
"All
right," scowled Wildstar. "That's provided you let me hold her hand
throughout," he said as he pulled up a chair for Nova.
"Derek...you're
not...going along with this...?"
"Nova, the
sooner we get it done, the sooner it'll be over with."
With her right
foot up on the chair, Hardy got the garter up Nova's leg a moment later as Nova
began to smile a little, thinking, Well, at least, in two weeks, Derek will
get to do this...to me...if I can't talk Mom out of it, that is....
As soon as the
garter went on, Nova got her foot back on the ground and into her shoe (with
Derek's help). Afterwards, Hartcliffe called out, "Well...we've done it!
Thank you, all, for your cooperation and attention! Now, if you'll let us
alone..."
At that, he
picked up Angie and kissed her like a maniac to a lot of cheers and applause as
they ran out.
A while later,
Angie and Bryan (still in their wedding clothes) were walking down a corridor
in
This isn't
far from Venture's room, thought Wildstar as they entered a small private room.
There, amongst
a few bouquets and many machines, lay a very thin, dark-haired woman who was
roughly middle-aged.
"Hello,
"Oh...hello,
Joseph," whispered the ill
A tear ran down
Angie's cheek as she looked on. "Mom?" she said softly. "I'm in
my wedding dress. How do you like it?"
"It's very
pretty," whispered
"I'm 'ere,
Mrs. Burkhardt," said Hartcliffe respectfully. "This
man over 'ere my flight instructor, Lieutenant Commander Derek Wildstar.
The young lady next to him is his fiancée and Angie's friend
, Lieutenant Nova Forrester."
"Weren't
you two with the Star Force?," whispered
"We
were," said Wildstar softly.
"I see.
Now, everyone," she said, looking around the room with her dark eyes,
"..Let's be honest. I've had the space radiation
sickness for a while, the same thing that your Captain Avatar had. I've been in
remission, but the way things are going, I think I'm going to be leaving you
and saying hello to your old Captain soon. I want you to swear to me that
you'll take good care of my Angelique,
"I
will," said Hartcliffe as a tear ran out of his eye.
"And will
you do a good job as the next Captain of the Argo, Wildstar?"
"I haven't
been formally appointed yet..."
"You will
be. Something inside is telling me you will be," said Victoria Burkhardt.
"You are to do everything that you can for us. And, Joseph...you know I'll
be leaving you soon. Don't sit around too long crying for me...any of you. Just
do your jobs. That's all I ask. Thanks for coming, Angie, Bryan, Derek...Nova.
Would you leave me alone with Joseph, please?"
"Of
course," said Derek softly as he nodded to Hartcliffe. Even though Nova's
cheeks were wet with tears, she gently put her arms around a stricken Angie's
waist, and gently turned her away from the bed.
"I
didn't...I didn't...know it was that bad," sobbed Angie as they came out
into the corridor. "I didn't know she was going to die, soon! I didn't!"
sobbed Angie.
"It's all
right," whispered
"But it's
my fault!" said Angie. "She wasn't that bad before we..."
"Are you
Miss Burkhardt?" asked a young woman in a long lab coat who came up.
"I
am," nodded Angie.
"I'm
Doctor Connelly," she said. "If I may speak to you and...your significant other privately, I'd like to let you know
the specifics of your mother's condition. As I was about to tell your father,
there's still a chance, if we operate aggressively and quickly...if you'd come
with me, we can discuss this further..."
After they left
Derek and Nova alone, Wildstar said, "Venture's still on this floor, isn't
he?"
"He
is," said Nova. "Or, at least, he was..." she said.
"Well...let's
go and see him."
"I'm not
sure that's a good idea, Derek. When I was last here, three days ago, he was
still in a coma. Doctor Sane said he might never come out of it!"
"Well...at
least we can say hello to him," said Wildstar.
******
The young
couple timidly stepped into Mark's semi-darkened room a few minutes later,
where they had one of the biggest shocks of their lives.
Most of the
machines that had been connected to Venture were gone now; there was only a
single IV. To their surprise, the bed rails were down, and Venture was sitting
up, quietly reading a book.
"MARK!"
cried Nova.
"Venture!"
called out Wildstar.
"I was
wondering when you guys would get here," said Venture in his clear,
unmistakable upper
"So you're
all right, then?" asked Nova.
"Except
for a few aches and pains...yes, my body's fine...but, deep within me, there's
a wound that I'm not sure will ever heal. Trelaina had so much power. Why
couldn't she have stayed?"
"She said
she couldn't stay," said Wildstar as Nova shut the door. "But, she
said a part of her would always be with all of us..."
"I know.
And that's what hurts so much," said Venture. "You see, part of me
can sense Trelaina. When I was in my trance...she told me, over and over again
that she would have to go. She said, and I can remember this, "Mark, I
must go. I wish I could remain, but I can't. Your friends will tell you why I
had to leave you, and why I had to go..."
"Derek,"
said Nova softly. "...The last thing Trelaina said...before she
left..."
"Tell
Mark how much I love him," whispered Wildstar as he remembered.
"Why did
she leave?" asked Venture. "I know she left me with you...but, what
happened after that?"
"She
sacrificed herself again, like at Telezart," said Derek as Nova began to
sob softly. "She did it to destroy a huge space battleship that emerged
from the ruins of the
"Desslok?"
muttered Venture. "The last I remember, Desslok and his forces were trying
to blow the Argo into scrap metal! What did that guy do?"
"The
battle ended when Desslok decided to make peace with us after I confronted him and
collapsed with only Nova to defend me. From what I've been told, Desslok just
stopped fighting when Nova confronted him."
"He
did," said Nova. "He said that his love for Gamilon wasn't all that
much unlike our love for Earth, and our love for each other. He said he was
fighting on after Gamilon had been lost because he felt he had to do everything
he could to defend Gamilon. He said that since he saw that we were of the same
sort, fighting for Earth after all seemed lost in the same way he fought on for
Gamilon after all seemed lost...and since Derek and I had and have a love for
each other that remained intact even while we fought for Earth, we were better
than he was, and he could've done things differently. I think he...had some
regret in his heart for continuing to go after us for revenge at that
point."
"Desslok
felt regret? That's a new one, Nova," said Venture.
"It's hard
to believe, but it happened," said Wildstar. " At
any rate, he said the war between Earth and Gamilon was over, and he made peace
with us, gave us some advice on how to defeat the Comet Empire city, and he
left us in peace and left with his entire space fleet."
"Later,"
continued Nova, " we that found his advice on how
to attack the Comet Empire, at its weak spot at the bottom, in the same way
that we attacked his weak spot on Gamilon, at the bottom of the volcanoes, was
correct. We did so, after we attacked the Comet Empire after it landed on
Earth, and Derek and the others boarded the Comet Empire at that weak spot, a
hatch it its bottom. Sergeant Knox then planted charges in the
"Then?"
"Then, we
attacked the
"That's
how she died; in a flash of light that took Zordar and his evil with her,"
sobbed Nova, who began to cry. Derek comforted her as Mark shut his eyes,
trying to hide the tears.
"Maybe she
didn't die..." suggested Venture.
"Maybe
yes, maybe no," said Wildstar. "She said, "It is time for me to
go...and she left."
"I thought
maybe...she couldn't die," said Venture, "...but, maybe she didn't.
Maybe...she left. I'm remembering, now," said Venture. "She said...I
cannot go with you, my darling, but our love will always be..." said
Venture in a choked-up voice.
"When
did...she tell you that...?" asked Nova.
"I'm not
sure...I think I dreamed it...or did I? I heard her say that to me...in a
state, and in a time, where I was between this life...and the next. After that,
we were together in body; I think, and then in spirit. Then, she told me, one
last time, she would have to go, and then, I found myself in this bed. I was
with her; we shared our love; but, she sent me back. Back to
Earth. Back to this. Back
to...being alone."
"Tell
me," asked Venture. "How long has it been?"
"The end
of Zordar was near noon on the fifteenth of November; it's now the twelfth of
December in the same year," said Derek.
"It's
been...twenty-seven days since then," said Nova. "Almost
a month."
"No, I
mean...how long has it been since I was...last with
you?"
"We made
our first warp to attack the
"It was
around then that I was shot," said Venture. "So I've been away from
you guys, and more or less with Trelaina for almost a
month. Or my mind's been with Trelaina. It was very hard to tell. Most of the
time, I was conscious of being with her, but sometimes I'd wake up and find
myself here, with a lot of machines around me. Then, I thought I was having
nightmares. Trelaina eventually told me otherwise. Almost a month, " said Venture sleepily. "What's happened to the
Star Force?"
"We've
been split up, but only temporarily," said Wildstar. "The Argo's
still in the repair dock, being rebuilt. Sergeant Knox and Corporal Cain died
in the boarding of the
"What does
Earth think of what we did?" asked Venture.
"Look on
your bedtable," said Nova. "They gave you
another Sunburst, and many other decorations. Also, you'll have a house waiting
for you when you come out, courtesy of the Earth Government. Your father has
the deed and the keys."
"Who else
got homes?" asked Venture.
"Us,
Sandor, Conroy, and Hardy," said Wildstar.
"Are you
in your homes yet?" asked Venture.
"Sandor just
moved into his place; they just finished it," said Nova. "Yours
should be ready in the week, and as for my place and Derek's it'll be done late
in the week, but we won't be moving in until after the wedding, of
course."
"When are
you getting married?"
"The day
after Christmas," said Wildstar. "It's a Saturday. I was wondering,
Mark. Would you be my best man?"
"Of
course, Wildstar," said Venture softly. "Nova, Derek, you know I
always wanted the best for you two. Congratulations. It's about time!"
"Thanks,"
said Wildstar and Nova softly blushed.
Nova turned her
head at the sound of the door opening. In walked Doctor Sane. "Wildstar,
Nova," he barked. "What are you doing disturbing my patient? He needs
rest!"
"We're
sorry, Doctor," said Derek.
"Doc, when
are you letting me out of here?" asked Venture.
"In two more days. I want to be sure you're not going to have a
relapse and that you're not going back to...wherever you just were."
"I won't
be going back there, at least not for a very long time," said Venture.
"Trelaina...told me that."
"She did,
hmmm?" asked Doctor Sane.
"She
did," said Venture.
"That's
good. IQ-9, bring me that thermometer now!" barked Doctor Sane through the
open door.
"Coming,"
said the robot's familiar high metallic voice from down the corridor.
"I've got it, I've got it...I've...Nova, I've got to ask you something,
before the wedding..."
"What?"
snapped Nova.
IQ whispered
something into Nova's ear as she bent down. Her face went white and she slapped
him hard before getting up.
"NO!
ABSOLUTELY NOT!" snapped Nova. "And, if either of you two laugh
again, you're both going to pay for it!" snapped Nova as she glared at
both Derek and Mark.
At that, they
looked at each other again, and then looked at Nova, and they just smirked.
Well, I
think things are almost back to normal again, thought Wildstar. Mark, it's great
to have you back....
VIII. THE
ENEMY REVEALED
Planet
Garalenda
The Edge of
the Milky Way
December 12,
2201
1310
Hours-Spacetime
"Sire,"
said Talan, who stood near Desslok at the entryway to a huge dock on the
Gamilon Base on Garalenda along with General Rikus
Krannen, who was a rather majestic-looking grey-bearded Gamilon officer with a
monocle, mustache, and small beard, and General Hairm Kelzart, a dark-haired,
mustachioed officer from one of the outer Territorial Fleets of the Empire who
had recently arrived here at Garalenda, "may we again present to you
Captain Vorkil and the Gamilstadt?"
Desslok
accepted the salute of the brown-armored Captain of his former flagship who had
served under both him and Talan. Then, he strode up to Desslok, and said,
"Sire, it is my pleasure to report to you that the Gamilstadt is
repaired. All of the engine damage has been repaired. She is again ready for
space trials, sir."
"I commend
you," said Desslok. "How were you able to repair her so
quickly?"
"Sire, we
found supplies here for four other vessels in various stages of construction.
We commandeered all of these supplies and we diverted them towards the refit of
your flagship. Incidentally, the static power-test readings indicate that we
have improved her speed by a factor of two space knots' increase, and that we
have increased the firing range of her Desslok Surge Cannon by a factor of a
five percent increase. The technicians and scientists here at Garalenda are
very dedicated, sir. They have not only repaired the work of our former allies,
the Cometines, they have in fact improved upon it, my Lord."
"Excellent,"
said Talan. "Leader Desslok, shall I conduct the trials?"
"No. I
shall. You will accompany me, Talan. Kelzart, you will assume command of the Eliasite,
my former flagship, and Krannen, you will assume command of the battleship Paravenia.
You will escort me along with twelve destroyers while we conduct this
exercise. General Felkner," said Desslok to
another officer who stood nearby, "you will assume command of the Base in
my absence. Keep all of the pickets in communication with my ship."
"Yessir,"
said Felkner. Desslok then nodded to Talan and began
to stride back aboard his flagship for the first time since his last battle
with the Star Force.
When entering
the ship, Desslok and his staff passed rank after rank of crewmen standing
along the passages chanting his name while they held salutes in the Gamilon
fashion. Desslok returned each salute with a nod, basking in the devotion of
his new crew as he walked back up to his bridge, which, like the rest of the
command cruiser, was now fully repaired.
Here, he thought, I plotted
the end of my revenge on the Star Force. And, here is where I saw that the need
for revenge had ended. Now, I embark upon a new journey, a new quest, possibly
even a new war against new foes. Who knows what the future will bring us? One
thing is certain, as long as I live, Gamilon lives on...
Behind Desslok
came Talan, Vorkil, and the other faithful members of
his Imperial flagship's staff who had survived their last battle with the Star
Force. Desslok was aware that some officers had died, but, as he had chosen
their replacements, he knew that the crew of his command ship would be just as
efficient and well-drilled as it had always been.
"We are
ready for launch, sir," said Vorkil in his
heavily accented but familiar voice.
Desslok nodded
once. That was all the go-ahead they needed. Still, as per form, Talan glanced
at Vorkil and said, "Leader Desslok has ordered
an immediate takeoff. You know what to do, Captain."
"Yessir. All hands, prepare for liftoff on my
mark," barked Vorkil into his communicator at
his station.
Life returned
to the Gamilstadt's engines a moment later as the ship thrust its way up
off the pad and accelerated off towards space, followed by the rest of the
Fleet that Desslok had dispatched.
In space,
around the vicinity of Garalenda, the fleet roared on in formation, with the
flagship in the lead, escorted by two destroyers on her aft flanks. Desslok
stood near the rebuilt controls of his Desslok cannon, smiling smugly as
routine reports came in from station after station on the rebuilt Imperial Flagship.
"It's
going well, Leader Desslok," said Talan with an equally pleased smile.
"Yes.
Perhaps this will be easier than I thought," said Desslok. "It will
take a while, but don't you think we can reassert ourselves over our old foes
in the Great Magellenic Cloud, if needed, with such a well-trained crew? It's
about time that we began to think of rebuilding our old domain, Talan. Our task
of finding a suitable permanent home will be much easier with a crew as
well-disciplined as this, won't it?"
"It will,
sir."
"If
only...I knew the precise nature of those Cometines who were bedeviling
us," said Desslok as he relaxed a little, sitting back down at his command
seat.
"Sir, we
have spotted eight objects approaching the fleet, at a distance of fifteen
hundred gerads."
"What is
it, Vorkil?" asked Desslok as he tensed at his
seat.
"We will
have a visual momentarily, sir, but they're..."
Suddenly, a
number of orange beams of energy whizzed past the Gamilstadt. Desslok
gritted his teeth as he caught a flash off the port side aft from a minor hit
against one of his destroyers, which was returning fire, along with its mate to
the starboard side.
Within moments,
the mid-range guns and missiles were firing on the Gamilstadt itself as
an image came up on the ship's screen; the eight vessels consisted of two
squadrons of Cometine battleships, each escorted by one destroyer. The
battleships, unlike those Desslok had seen before, were a light grey color, and
the destroyers were white on top and grey on the bottom, as opposed to the
white and green coloration standard to the Cometine ships of Zordar's house.
However, these
were Cometine vessels... that much was for certain.
"All
ships, meet their attack!" snapped Desslok. "Talan!
Order Kelzart to launch a squadron of precision bombers! I want one of those
ships disabled and captured! As for the rest...I don't want to see any more of
them!"
"Yessir,"
said Talan.
Soon, escorted
by its destroyers and the Paravenia, the Gamilstadt and the Paravenia
fired one after the other, blasting apart the destroyers and one of the
advancing Cometine space battleships. In the meantime, the Eliasite launched
its planes.
On the Gamilstadt,
Desslok watched on the large round deck-mounted tactical screen with grim
satisfaction as one of the attacking Cometine battleships fell back, apparently
lining up for a massive barrage.
"We'll hit
him with an attack from an unexpected corridor before he can fire, sir,"
said Talan as the Gamilstadt pulled back a little as the Gamilon
destroyers and the Paravenia made short work of the remaining Cometine
destroyer. "We're in position now, sir, and so are Kelzart's planes."
"Good,"
said Desslok. "Now. Activate SMITE!"
A mere moment
later, the SMITE projectors on both sides of the Gamilstadt's bow were
activated, and the Gamilons' ingenious Space Instantaneous Matter Transport
Equipment fields were dematerializing the squadron of precision bombers into
hyperspace, to reappear a moment later behind the sterns of two of the Cometine
space battleships.
An instant
later, the Gamilon planes were streaking down upon their surprised enemies, who
fired at them with everything they had. However, despite their best efforts,
several of the bombs and missiles got through, and one of the space battleships
was forced to reduce its speed as its destroyer escort was blown apart
relentlessly by the Gamilon pilots. The other, defended by its escort
destroyer, managed to evade the enemy fire unscathed, but it was soon surprised
by another wave of Gamilon planes that appeared right on top of it.
"Perdition
take them!" hissed the Cometine Fleet Commander as he stood watching the
carnage with his teeth gritted and his eyes screwed up into mere slits.
"How are those devils doing that?"
"The
Gamilon SMITE projectors, sir," said a blue-uniformed Cometine officer
near his grey-clad commanding officer. "We had researched them, General
Varlan, but we never expected that they would have their flagship..."
"Perdition
take your excuses, Janklin!
It is our sacred duty to damage those traitors before we retreat, or face
Gernitz's wrath. Order the Jelicron to
step up the attack while we retreat to a more tenable position."
"We aren't
attacking to the death, sir?" asked Janklin.
"No,
Captain. Gernitz's orders to me were merely to probe the Gamilons' defenses
here as a preliminary to our main attack, just as Naska will soon be doing near
Earth. We will put up a good fight and withdraw. Gernitz will need to send more
against this lot than we thought. Desslok is, as you can see, a most ruthless
and devious man. Had he not impugned his honor by turning against the hero
Zordar, he would serve as an excellent ally in our fight to gain the secrets of how the Earth was healed. Order the Marikon to cover our right flank,
and..."
A great flash
of light came through the bridge windows of Varlan's
flagship, the Jedigas, as the Paravenia's guns drilled a merciless barrage
into the Cometine battleship at the flagship's flank.
"Sir, the Marikon has just been destroyed!"
"Curse
this! Half my fleet gone, and we only got two of their
destroyers! Another moment, and you will order the Jelicron to guard our stern while we..."
A massive
explosion on Varlan's ship made his teeth rattle.
"Sir!"
cried another officer. "They've hit our escort destroyer!
"Those
planes will be after us! What should we do?"
"Break off
the attack! General withdrawal! This is enough! Warp back to location X-3 at
once!"
"Yessir,"
said another officer. "SIR!" barked the comm officer. "The Jelicron says it can't follow! Its engine has
been damaged and they're repelling boarders!"
"Order
them to fight on and destroy any and all information covering our advance, and
then to advance to death's embrace by engaging its self-destruct
mechanisms," said Varlan.
"Order transmitted...and
acknowledged," said the comm officer as more Gamilon planes appeared to
rake the main deck of the Cometine battleship.
"WARP!"
The Jedigas warped away, leaving the Jelicron
alone as the Gamilstadt roared up towards it.
On the Cometine
warship Jelicron, pandemonium reigned
as a third, and then a fourth boarding pod rammed in from the nearby Paravenia.
Gamilon troops swarmed aboard the battleship heralded by an evil haze of
greenish-purple radioactive gas recently formulated by Desslok so as to have an
especially debilitating and eventually lethal effect upon Cometines in
particular. It was a more devilish version of the same gas used by Desslok
against the Star Force in 2200 when he had first boarded the Argo.
Cometine
troops, when they weren't choking, were snarling with hate against their
enemies as pitched gun battles took place in passage after passage on the
embattled Jelicron. The Gamilons soon
noticed that the most relentless of the defenders were also armored, clad in
black battle armor trimmed with maroon of a type they had never seen before.
Those troopers were the ones who offered the most resistance against the
Gamilons as the grim, brown -armored invaders fought against their former
Cometine allies with a ferocity born out of the betrayal of their race and the
Leader under the scheming of Princess Invidia. The fact that her schemes had
not been stopped sooner by Zordar had tended to damn all Cometines in Gamilon
eyes, and now this renewed aggression only made it even worse.
On top of this,
many Gamilons looked beyond the bare fact that Desslok had ordered an end
against the war with Earth to realize that they now had a sneaking admiration
for their one-time Terran enemies for the mere fact that they had taught the
arrogant Cometines a thing or two on their own.
All of these
thoughts made the pitched battles between the Gamilons and Cometines especially
fierce, especially as it was now more evident than ever that Gamilon's alliance
with the Comet Empire was now just as dead as Prince Zordar.
A while later,
the surviving Cometines retreated towards the bridge, even as the bridge crew
was busy shooting out every console they could reach as they sought to carry
out Varlan's final orders.
"That's it
now," said Captain Velitz, the Jelicron's skipper. "Now, with this
charge, I'll kill myself a moment after I activate the sequence to destroy the
ship."
A number of
laser bolts blasted against the sealed hatchway, heating the hatch from the
other side for a bit before it blew in from a well-placed demolition charge.
A howl of anger
roared across the bridge as shot after shot came through the door. Gamilon
troops were running in through the smoke and gas, and, where they were missing,
the gas was taking its effect upon the bridge crew of the battleship before
they could seal their helmet faceplates.
"Stop! STOP!" snapped Velitz as he
stood with his hands on the controls as five Gamilons advanced upon him, with a
sixth, extremely tall Gamilon standing behind them. He wore an especially elaborate
black cloak, and his helmet had a high, shiny black crest on it.
"Why should we stop, I ask?" said a mellifluous, respectful
voice from behind the mask of the tall Gamilon's helmet.
"Because my hands are on the self-destruct device. When I activate this, I
could blow us all to the next world in moments! I'm not afraid to go, but I
don't know about you!"
"You're
confident, even though you sound like a fool since you evidently don't know
that my men have already delinked the self-destruct
circuits from your reactor. It's amusing, really, that we know more about your
ships than you do. Where's the Captain of this vessel?"
"Why do
you want the Captain? Is it important?"
"Yes it
is," said the tall Gamilon patiently through his mask. "I'd like to
receive his surrender," he sneered.
"Very
well...I'm...I'm Captain Velitz, commander of the
glorious Cometine Free House space battleship Jelicron.
I am just a small cog in the great machine under which our House will unite
and purge the whole Empire! Who are you, Gamilon?"
"Who are
you, Gamilon?" repeated the tall Gamilon mockingly. "Ah. I am Gamilon!"
At that, the leader of the boarding party lifted his visor and undid his mask.
"I am Desslok, supreme Leader of the Gamilons, and I think this conversation
has gone on quite long enough, Captain Velitz. You
have much to atone for!"
"Stay
back! I'll blow you up, Desslok! I'll...."
Desslok rapidly
drew his pistol and pumped three shots into Velitz's
shoulder.
As Velitz fell screaming to the deck, his men scattered, but
were subdued by the Gamilons and frog-marched off the bridge. Desslok stood
smiling as the smoke curled up from his weapon. "As you have just
observed, I always have the last laugh, Velitz. Your
surrender is graciously accepted. Talan, see to it that he's
taken back to the flagship for inventory, treatment, and interrogation."
"Yessir,"
said Talan as he clapped his hands once and two Gamilon troopers dragged Velitz away under his arms. "I presume you'll soon
follow?"
"I'll be
along shortly," said Desslok as he took off his helmet and set it on a
console as if he was sitting down in a lounge in his palace. "Post a
guard, if you please. I'd like to look into their communications records
personally and figure out whom they were calling last. As Zordar gave me many
of the Empire's most confidential codes, I'll find it simple to break into the
system so I can find out why these barbarians are attacking us. When we talk
with Velitz, I can ascertain the rest."
"Yessir,"
said Talan. "Troopers, guard Leader Desslok. Leave your posts only when
ordered."
"As you
command, sir," said one trooper as he ordered the others to stand near
their Leader with their weapons at the ready in the unlikely event there was
any more resistance.
Now, thought Desslok. Since
I know that these fanatics are claiming to be a House, let's see if their
records carry any sort of Imperial Warrant that may have created them as a
House after Zordar's death. Perhaps they are a House, but, perhaps they are
simply renegades. For the sake of our security, I'd better ascertain the
truth....
Later, Desslok
sat with Talan aboard the Gamilstadt. On one table, he had some of his
favorite wine, while on another table, he had a number
of datapacs copied from the communications computer
of the Cometine battleship, which had been taken back to Garalenda Base under
tow. The ship was now being examined by Gamilon technicians in the hope that
useful data or salvageable materials might be found.
"Sir, as you
requested, the ship is being analyzed."
"I thank
you, Talan. However, I believe that I have the most essential information right
here," said Desslok as he patted the datapacs.
"Leader
Desslok," called out an aide from outside.
"Enter."
The grey-uniformed
aide came in at Desslok's request, carrying a binder of information. "A hard-copy printout of those datapacs,
as requested, sir."
"Thank
you. This is satisfactory," said Desslok as he looked over the packet.
"You may leave."
"As you
wish, sir," said the aide as he saluted and left.
"What did
the information tell us, Leader Desslok?" asked Talan.
"I read
over much of this on the ship. This is for my personal records," said
Desslok. "According to this information, as we know, a General Gernitz was
banished from Zordar's main advance fleet command two Cometine years ago and
reassigned to the Betralnka quadrant of the Black Fox
Nebula, ostensibly to guard strategic resources, or so the official records
say. Zordar told me face to face that the reason he did it was to get rid of an
influence that was ruining the efficiency of his Fleet. Gernitz was an
effective commander, but he was also a bloodthirsty madman
who sought to torture and exterminate planetary populations that Zordar
found useful. For this breach, he was reassigned, but given occasional access
to the
"At about
the time I was found by Zordar's forces, and while I was reviving, I understand
you were summoned to my side."
"That's
right, Leader Desslok. Zordar summoned us with the news that you were alive. We
were overjoyed."
"You had
good reason to be, but this joy would have turned to sorrow if Gernitz's plot
had succeeded. It appears that Gernitz, or some of his followers, even Zordar's
secret police could never ascertain who, sought to have me dealt with while I
was recovering because they felt that I would serve as a useful source of
information for the secret of how Earth was healed in one year after we had
bombed it. The attempt was foiled in time. The fanatics themselves were quietly
executed by Dyre on Zordar's orders, while Zordar himself refused to touch
Gernitz, because he wanted to see if Gernitz's influence extended anywhere else
within his House. As he couldn't find anything, Gernitz was called to his court
and permanently banished from Gatlantis, forbidden ever to set foot in the City
again under pain of death for the crime, which Zordar learned, of exterminating
a planetary population of a low level because he wanted to wipe out a race that
had offended him, even at the expense of ruining the planet. However, Zordar
still found Gernitz useful. He assigned him again to the Alarandis
Corridor of the Black Fox Nebula like a chained hound and forgot about
him."
"But
now...?"
"Gernitz
has made sure he is not forgotten. He has petitioned the Emperor for the right
to have his sect recognized as a House. That warrant has been partly granted,
on the condition that he must swear fealty to any surviving appropriate titled
members of Zordar's House, if they still exist and can still be found."
"Are there
any?"
"No.
Zordar had many children. The only one with a legitimate title, however, was
Invidia. I think you know what happened to her. There was talk of an adoption
in my favor by Zordar, but he was never able to go through with it, and not
even I can fake a claim to his House, nor do I care to, since I am the absolute
ruler of our domains by natural right. "
"So, in
effect..."
"Gernitz
is now his own House, with the right to conquest of any one of Zordar's
domains. And, he must be stopped, as you know, before he goes on his quest to
discover how and why Earth was Terraformed so
quickly. And, you know where he will go to take that information."
"Earth,
sire," said Talan with a heavy heart. "Again, Earth," he sighed.
Must we involve themselves with Earth again?"
"Not
immediately. It is our task to rebuild. But, we must be vigilant, and not only
for sentimental reasons," said Desslok. "Have a look at this
graphic," said Desslok as he flicked on a screen. "This is our
position. If Earth were to be taken by Gernitz's House, it would be most likely
enslaved and then possibly sterilized, with all likelihood, because of its
current weakened state. Then, the location of Iscandar and the secrets of the
Cosmo-DNA machine fall into the hands of an utter maniac, and, even worse, we
would have a new Cometine stronghold at our backside like a dagger, just as we
are attempting to rebuild. I cannot permit this, Talan."
"Then
we're to head to Earth?"
"Not yet.
At this point the data became garbled, but I did ascertain that Gernitz is now
working out of one of the conquered Milky Way "X" series base worlds
taken by Zordar's advance forces. That means that substantial elements of the
enemy's forces are holed up either at Sirius or Procyon. Before sending any
type of warning to Earth, we must conduct reconnaissance sweeps to place our
probes at both Sirius and Procyon to monitor the enemy's activities, and we'll
also need more ships if we are to launch an expeditionary mission into the Sol
System to personally warn Earth of the threat. I'd send a transmission, but I'm
not sure they'd believe me, and I'm not entirely sure that our friends wouldn't
jam it, either."
Desslok sipped
at his wine for a moment before continuing. "For maximum effect, I'd
prefer to direct such a message to Wildstar. Talan, how quickly can you send
another general call to the
"As soon
as we're linked back into the surviving portions of the Far Territorial relay
satellite network, provided, of course, that the Cometines didn't rip it
down," said Talan.
"You will
do so quickly," said Desslok. "And, when we have enough forces, a
garrison fleet will be sent towards the Sanzar System...to keep tabs on Iscandar."
"You said
that you didn't think they'd be attacked, yet, sir," said Talan.
"Yes, but
I want to be prepared in the unlikely event that happens. As for Earth, I want
to be certain and ready before we head there. Is that understood, Talan?"
"Yessir,"
said Talan.
"Excellent.
Please see to it that my orders are carried out."
Talan stood,
saluted, and then walked away with a bow.
I have been
idle too long, thought Desslok. So this is what my quest for vengeance against
Wildstar earned me...a dagger in my back that I should have been watching for
all along. I can never let such mad quests for vengeance
cloud my judgment again! And to think I brought part of this danger on
myself by weakening the Star Force. Destiny has a rather interesting means of
teaching me lessons of this type! Now, to be safe, I must safeguard the world
and the people I once hated. But are we too late? Are we too late? I pray
not...yet I cannot be clouded by my emotions again, not when the destiny and
freedom of my people are at stake. Act too soon, and I
move before all the pieces are set. But, act too late, and I am blocked before
I can make my move. What a bitter irony this is....
IX.
EXERCISE: CODENAME VALIANT DEFENDER
Earth
Megalopolis
Idlewild
Space Naval Air Station
Rampway 502
Monday,
December 21, 2201
0830
Hours-Spacetime
"At
ease!" snapped Wildstar as he stood before the assembled members of the his training squadron as well as the one which Hardy had
been training. Hardy stood beside him to his right. "If you wonder why all
of you have been gathered here this morning, along with your gunners and RSO's
in the case of Hardy's squadron, we are here to inform you that it is to
complete the final exercise of your flight training. This is an exercise in
which the two of you will be acting in opposition to each other while flying
for one last time, under conditions as realistic as we can make them, as
squadron mates in an attack and defense situation."
"Here is
the tactical situation. Our squadron will fly from here to Lowry Defense Force
Base, near the Denver Megalopolis. You will have been ordered to fly there at
short notice to serve on a short-term assignment as interceptor pilots
protecting that base in a wartime situation. Recently, enemy fleets from space
from a rebel splinter element of the Defense Forces have been reconnoitering
the planet to gain information for an attack, and to also, incidentally,
perhaps pick off a few of you Super Starfighter pilots because they know that
we are flying the hottest bird around!"
At that, Laurel
Hartmann, Hartcliffe, Pulvan, and all of the other members of Wildstar's
squadron cheered, accompanied in counterpoint by boos and hisses
from Hardy's squadron. Wildstar gave Hardy a dirty look when he realized that
Jeff was encouraging some of the by-play by his silent grin.
"And, as
you know, that's the enemy!" snapped Wildstar. "It'll be your job to
keep as many as possible of those rebels away from Lowry Base so that they
don't get in there to snoop, cause collateral damage,
or even, God forbid, bomb
"YESSIR!"
they yelled.
"All
right, now, we'll stand back and let you hear the enemy."
As Wildstar's
squadron hissed, Hardy addressed his squadron. "Y' know, those all lies.
Nuthin' BUT lies! The so-called loyalists over theah are nuthin' but a bunch of
fanatics led by a curtain general who took over the Earth guv'mint
who shall remain nameless. This general wants to wipe out our spirit, and wipe
out our liberty! He's a scheming dictator who got ninety-nine point nine
percent of our forces on his side. But yew, mah comrades, yew are the true defenduhs of freedom. You'd be flyin' forth from the Argo
as brave members of the Star Force, if the Argo, that is, hadn't been
taken over by the loyalists. Instead, we've commandeered the new Andromeda and
we're flyin' forth from that ship to defend our cause. We know they've taken
over Lowry, and we're the vanguard of a force that's gonna take IT and
At that, a loud
cheer went up. Wildstar groaned to himself, aware that Nova was doing a very
good job of playing cheerleader along with Hardy. Well, she's doing what
she's supposed to be doing,. he
thought. Hardy's made her a flight leader and XO of the Squadron! Funny,
isn't it, when your own fiancée is on the wrong side again.
Where did Priceman get THIS idea from...including this joint pep talk?
"So, you
know what we've gotta do!" said Hardy. "We've gotta flush them rats
out! They've got people in
Then, Wildstar
shook his head with disbelief as Hardy led everyone in a Rebel Yell! To his
delight, at least his own squadron had the good grace to boo.
"So, we
know what we've gotta do..." said Hardy.
"And you
know what we've gotta do!" barked Wildstar.
"WIN!"
both of them yelled.
A loud and long
burst of applause went up.
"Well,
what do you think?" asked Hardy as he and Wildstar broke the formations up
so that everyone could man their planes.
"I think
that the idea of talking to both of them at once was nutty," said
Wildstar.
"Yeah, but
we got to brief 'em in private before we met for the big pow-wow," said
Hardy. "And, see how worked up they are? They're gonna win today. They've
all got that killer spirit we want to build up."
"Yeah, I
can see that," said Wildstar.
"But
what?" asked Hardy.
"I hope we
didn't work them up too much," said Wildstar. "If they're too worked
up, they could make mistakes..."
"Wildstar,
I don't believe this," said Hardy. "How many times have you stood
there and worked us up on the Argo, especially when it counted?"
"Well...lots
of times, but..."
"We need
that espirit, Wildstah! And we've got it. This
is the one time everyone here will be flying together as a squadron against an
enemy before we break them up into their permanent assignments."
"Yeah,"
sighed Wildstar. "That's nice...when they know
their permanent assignments."
"None of
'em do, Wildstah! You know that! C'mon...what's up? I'm gettin' worried about
you..."
"They
didn't tell me anything about my new assignment yet, Hardy. They didn't tell
any of us...."
"They probably
won't until this exercise is over. Or do ah have to give YEW the enemy pep
talk, Wildstar? You did a good job; you're a better leader than ah am! All right? Two o' my pilots, namely one of my girls and that
real dumb kid, washed out. Yew only lost one o' yours, Wildstah, and that means
you outnumber us by one already. C'mon now, Wildstah. You're good at this. Go
out there and kick some tail today!" said Hardy as he patted his
soon-to-be "enemy" on the back.
"I'll burn
you, Hardy," grinned Wildstar. "Even at low practice intensity, I'll
burn you!"
"That's
the spirit," laughed Hardy. "Good luck."
"Same to
you," said Wildstar. "And, to Nova."
"She'll do
fine, you know that!" laughed Hardy.
Yeah, I hope
so,
thought Wildstar. Especially since she's supposed to be my wife at the end
of the week...provided nothing happens....
A few hours
later, Wildstar's squadron, having simulated a ferry flight across the
continent, came in for routine landings at Lowry EDF Base near
On the tarmac,
Laurel Hartmann found Wildstar sipping on a bottle of water and staring out
into space as the other pilots made their landings.
"Sir, if I
can ask you what's up..."
"Nothing. I'm just...watching the landings before we
brief. Trying to grade everyone, that's all."
"Sir,
that's not it. What is it?"
"Nothing. I'm just thinking that our opponents are flying
aboard that battleship, even now. Those landings and takeoffs on those Andromedas
are pretty tricky."
"So, what
is it?" asked
"Do you
smell it?" asked Wildstar.
"Smell
what?" said
"No.
There's something in the air. It's funny. The last time I felt like this
was...right before the Comet Empire began to attack us. Something's not
right," said Wildstar, who strained to look at the sky. "We don't
have enough out there, and, even though we're training, and even though we have
to train, if any of those enemy forces are left..."
"You think
we could be attacked again?"
"Maybe,"
said Wildstar. "Or maybe I'm just jumping at shadows. But...that
something...I think we'd better be careful out there,
and not just of our supposed "enemy", either..."
******
Landing a
Tiger on an Andromeda class isn't just hard; it's just near impossible! thought Angie Hartcliffe in
frustration as she came in wrong and was "waved off" for the second
time by the position of the landing lights near the new Andromeda's lower
bay hatch.
Snarling a
little, she turned around, and made the approach again. She finally smiled when
the lights turned green, and the strangely reassuring computerized voice of the
new ship's automatic landing systems said, "Nominal landing angle
achieved. You are cleared for landing, Mrs. Hartcliffe."
"Thank you
very much," said Angie cheerfully as she slowed down and caught the open rampway, cutting the engines down just as she was caught by
the magnetic arresting field and slowed down enough to taxi in.
"Whew!"
she said. "Now, the takeoff!"
"Darn
straight," said Ensign Jack Redding, her RSO for this flight. Jack was a
Canadian, while her gunner, Marine Sergeant Felipe Lopez, was a Filipino who
was as tough as nails. He usually didn't talk much, but when he did, it was
usually something you'd be wise to hear; especially since he was the oldest
member of this Cosmo Tiger II's crew.
"All
right, let's get her around and get her into her hold. Your friend's coming in
next."
Angie taxied
the plane over to her slot, feeling it go up the elevator as usual as she
noticed Nova climbing out of her plane one cubbyhole below her.
"Well,
what do you think?" asked Angie as she climbed down out of the plane's
landing area and met Nova near a hatchway.
"I see
what Derek said," said Nova as she looked around at the new, spacious
hangar bay. "These ships are much bigger than the Argo. Pardon me
for looking around; this is the first time I've been aboard an Andromeda class."
"This is
the first time I've been aboard a battleship, period," laughed Angie.
Both of them were interrupted by a loud roar, screech, and bang on the rampway, similar to that on the Argo.
They looked
over in time to notice Tatiana's plane taxiing in, just as smooth as silk. She
gave a cocky smile as she slowed down.
"How long
do we have to our scheduled launch time?" asked Ensign Chen Hso, Nova's RSO. Her tail gunner, a young Space Marine
named Lance Corporal Dave Levinson hadn't said much either, partly because he
was the youngest in this crew and partly because he was too much in awe of his
bird's pilot to say any more than necessary.
"About
ninety minutes," said Nova, "...give or take a few.
"Remember, Hardy wants us back around here to brief in an hour, and
if the time of the attack changes, we might have to be in our cockpits in
fifteen minutes."
"Got
it," said Hso.
After Nova got
a little food and water (some salad and spring water) in the Andromeda's
messhall, she decided to request permission to visit the bridge. Because of her
status, another officer was easily able to arrange such a visit. So, it so happened that, fifteen minutes later, Nova was on the bridge
of the new flagship of the EDF along with her escort, a Junior Lieutenant
Palmer, who was, as it turned out, relieving the ship's comm officer.
"Sir,"
said Palmer, who turned to face Admiral Jeremy Falworth at his post, "As I
stated in my call to the XO, this is our visitor, Miss Forrester, from the
Recon squadron which is our guest today."
"I'm
pleased to meet you again," said Falworth in his rather deep, impressive
voice. "How'd you find your first "operational" landing on a
ship of this class?"
"Easier
than I expected, sir, although your lower hatchway seems to be a little tighter
than the Argo's main launch bay hatch."
"So I
see," said Falworth. "It's good practice for our crews. There's been
talk that they'll be putting regular pilots aboard this ship shortly. as it is, I think it's a little premature; since we're still
working all of the bugs out of the ship."
"Bugs or
none, sir, she looks magnificent," said Nova. But, not the same as our
ship, she added, being sure to keep that thought to herself.
Walking over
towards the main radar station, she glanced unobtrusively over the young female
officer's shoulder. The new twin-screen Cosmo-Radar console looked similar to
the one she regularly manned on the Argo, but Nova noticed at once that
a few of the usual controls weren't there.
"Miss, may
I ask where the calibration slide switch is?" asked Nova softly. "I'm
an officer visiting this ship."
"Oh, of
course, Ma'am," said the young radar officer respectfully. "I'm afraid
we don't have one of those on this ship."
"Why
not?" asked Nova.
"The
computer performs the calibration automatically according to an automatic
pre-set schedule. The regular old-fashioned acquisition adjustments to focus
the image are made as soon as an image is picked up to ensure maximum sharpness
on a normal bell-curve ratio, ma'am."
"I'm
sorry, but not everything is on a bell-curve ratio in real life, Miss.
Sometimes, enemy pilots and helmsmen are able to figure out when they're being
scanned, and they'll ginch to screw up your
image."
"Ginch?" said the young dark-haired woman with a
puzzled look on her face. "What's that?"
"That's
when they do a little maneuver to try to outsmart you. If you know what you're
doing, you can outsmart..."
Nova went quiet
before the radar officer did, because she suddenly heard a little Doppler shift
in the intensity of the cosmo-radar waves of the Andromeda's radar that
let her, as an experienced operator, know that the scanner had picked up an
object before it came up on the next scan. The radar officer stared at the
screen, puzzled, until she spotted an image on the radar.
"Captain!"
she sang out. "I've picked up an image!"
"Where,
Morrison?" asked Falworth.
"AT-304; range, 25,000 megameters. At the far range of our
scanners, sir. Speed, twenty-five space knots."
"Confirmed,"
said the Andromeda's radar system computer in a flat voice. "Object
acquired, range 24,939.20. Speed, twenty-four point niner-niner-two
space knots. Information being downloaded to target computer
as contingency. No threat pattern detected."
"I think
you should watch that," said Nova. "I would."
"Why?
There's no threat pattern. The computer said that," said Morrison.
"Vicki.
Forget the computer for once," said Falworth. "Trust the instincts of
our guest and of an old space sailor, okay? I'd keep an eye peeled on that
object." added Falworth.
"It could
be...space junk, sir. There's a lot of garbage floating around from the Comet
Empire," said Vicki.
"Yes, and
some of that garbage is giving me a very funny feeling," said Nova.
"Feeling?"
asked Morrison as she focused on the scope. "Do you always go on feelings,
ma'am?"
"When
you've been around space as long as I've been, sometimes you learn to trust
them," said Nova lightly. But, something out there is telling me that's
a rat! Oh, if only I was on the Argo and could get a look at it on a
calibration scan!
"Well?"
snapped the Admiral.
"Sir, it's
not doing anything...just drifting off," said Morrison nervously.
"All
right, then...guess it's not a threat. Still...keep your eyes open. Look for
any kind of changes you can detect. You were trained that way?"
"Yes, but
not so as to detect..."
"Well, you
picked up a tip from a Star Force member today for free," said Falworth. "A tip that could just well save your life someday; namely,
listen and look. Got that?"
"Yessir,"
said Morrison, who gave Nova a mildly dirty look.
"Thank
you, Miss Forrester," said Falworth as he got up to shake her hand. "You
taught all of us a valuable lesson today. I hope to see you again, someday,
maybe even as a TDY instructor on a ship of this class..."
"Thank
you, sir. I'd be honored."
At that, Nova
left, knowing she had been, however politely, dismissed. However, she still
felt uneasy.
What.., she thought as she went
down the lift, ...what WAS that blip? For a
minute, I could've sworn it left the same sort of signature as a Cometine
Scorpion...if only the computer would've let that officer override it to take a
look manually by playing around with the scan bandwidth! But
no...the computer doesn't LET them do that! I hope that sort of
thing doesn't cost them lives someday...
A while later, Wildstar had taken off with his squadron. They were maintaining a
Combat Air Patrol around Lowry Base, keeping an eye out for intruders.
Wildstar's two
wingmen were Pulvan and Sanjeeva Kayan. Both pilots were maintaining their
positions off his wings very well, and reporting in periodically as they were
supposed to.
Off behind him,
to his left, flew Laurel Hartmann, leading an element consisting of a male
known as Ensign Shin Takayama and a female known as
Ensign Kristina Barrington. To Wildstar's right flew an element led by a Senior
Lieutenant from the Afro States named Garrett Yonas.
His pilots were known as Ensign Domingo Sifontes and
Junior Lieutenant Samantha Halleck. Finally, bringing up the rear,
was Junior Lieutenant Bryan Hartcliffe, who had, to everyone's surprise
(including his own) become an Element leader, and second-best student, after
"All planes,"
snapped Wildstar. "Any contacts?"
Everyone
reported "Negative," until Nereus began to
say "Neg..", and then he said, "Sir,
belay that! I've just picked up a contact, at RP-245, at the edge of my scope
at 50,000 and descending!"
"All
planes," ordered Wildstar, "Follow my lead, and ascend to 50,000.
We're checking that out. Dragons, be ready to strike!"
The squadron
roared up higher to intercept.
******
"Contacts
spotted," said Angie Hartcliffe over her radio. "They're coming up from
45,000, coming fast. I think they've found us...."
"We're
gonna have a fight!" snapped Tatiana. "Great!"
"Hold off
on the chatter back there," snapped Nova. "Await the squadron
leader's signal..."
"We allow
them enough time to call for reinforcements!" ordered Hardy. "Red
Centaurs, attack!"
A moment later,
at low power, the two squadrons began to engage. Normally, the Super
Starfighters would've had the edge because of their speed, but the Tigers had a
slight edge because of a mild element of surprise.
The first
"kill" of the day, (with lasers at low power) came when Ari Nereus earned took out Ensign
Patricia Daniels from Hardy's squadron by coming up behind her and raking her
plane with streams of fire.
A moment later,
Yasuo Kirishima avenged the Red Centaurs by taking out Nereus.
Daniels and Nereus heard tones in their headsets that
indicated they were "dead" and out of the battle, so they broke
formation and began to head back after the "deaths" were acknowledged
by their squadron leaders.
"We've
lost one; they've lost one," said Wildstar. "Everyone, keep the
pressure on!"
"Right,
sir," said Hartcliffe, who was now busy coming up the tail of Colleen
Schaefer from the enemy squadron as the combatants soon forced the battle up
into atmosphere that was so thin it was beginning to turn into the deep indigo
of near-space. However, Hartcliffe regretted the move a half-minute later,
because Schaefer's tail gunner was awake and alert; raking Hartcliffe's Super
Starfighter with a bolt or two before Hartcliffe flipped over onto his backside
and roared under the Tiger to evade that aft turret.
Hartcliffe was
coming back up again when he spotted a bogie coming in hard and fast from a
higher altitude on his scope. Who's that? No one's up THAT high, are they?
he thought as he swung around again to meet Schaefer,
who had Senior Lieutenant Eric Wojenski lending
assistance a moment later.
As Wojenski fired, Schaefer roared up higher. Hartcliffe
evaded Wojenski's lasers and swung around to pursue
Schaefer; Wojenski was soon in pursuit.
Hartcliffe
noticed that they were up so high that stars were beginning to become visible.
He looked at his scope again, and noticed two more ships coming up on his tail
"Identify yourselves!" he barked.
"Hey, sir,
it's just us," said Nereus. "I've got Jock
with me. We've got two more of them on the run!"
"Great,"
said Hartcliffe as his fighter roared over onto its back. "Now, as for
these guys..."
"No,
SHOOT, NO!," they suddenly heard Wojenski yelling on their frequency. "Guys!
I've got that bogie on my back! He's not one of ours, repeat, he's
not...."
Then, they
heard a loud roar of static and looked up just in time to see full-intensity
laser beams drilling their way into Wojenski's Cosmo
Tiger! It went up in a ball of flame just an instant later.
Then, a moment
later, just as ugly as their worst nightmare, two Cometine Paranoia fighters
emerged through the ball of gas and flame that had been Wojenski's
Cosmo Tiger.
"Curse
it!" roared Jablonski.
"This
time, Ensign, DON'T cut the chatter!," said
Hartcliffe." You...uhhh...Centaurs out there, we're like on the same
side!"
"What?"
asked Wildstar as he flew on some distance away in his Super Starfighter.
Before he got an answer, an enemy Scorpion answered for him by rushing up on him
from port with all of its guns going.
Wildstar evaded
the enemy fire and began flicking switches with his other hand. I've got to
put a stop to this! thought Derek as he turned his
weapons up to "combat" intensity and snapped, over a command override
frequency that all of the friendly planes in the area would switch to when this
signal went out, "Everyone...in BOTH squadrons! This is Wildstar! Boost
weapons to combat intensity, and activate missiles! Repeat, combat intensity
weapons and missiles! We are under enemy attack from Comet Empire fighter
planes and space boats! The exercise is cancelled! All planes in the area, engage and destroy enemy planes!"
A moment later,
when the Scorpion came around for another pass, Wildstar fired, and all of his
plasma bolts hit, earning the first actual kill of the day for the Earth
forces.
"Wildstah!," said Hardy over his headset.
"What?"
"I've
ordered all mah element leaduhs to regroup! Nova's
told me that ten of those Scorpions just split off from the main group and are descending down towards
"SHOOT!"
snapped Wildstar. "Bombing raid!
Whoever's behind this set this attack up to divert the rest of us! Hardy,
order Nova and your other best element leader to break off and intercept those
Scorpions! Hartcliffe, when you can get away from them, take your element and
back them up!"
"Roger,
sir!" replied Hartcliffe. "Bravos, give me a hand!"
"Soon as I
get HIM," snapped Jock as he fired at a Paranoia fighter, which promptly
blew apart. "GOT 'im!"
"Ready?"
"Comin,
sir," whooped Jock as he and his crew held on while his Tiger met the
others.
"Wildstar!"
barked Priceman over his headset. "What the HELL is going on up there?
"This
isn't an exercise anymore, sir!" replied Wildstar as he strafed two more
Paranoia fighters. Off to his right, he winced as a Super Starfighter blew
apart, having been caught by two Paranoias.
"It's real
now! It's a Cometine raid. When can you get us backup?"
"A few
minutes...the ready squadron down here was on alert-fifteen. That's changing
right NOW," snapped Priceman as Wildstar suddenly heard sirens going off
in the background. "But you guys are gonna have to hold them for a few
minutes on your own. OVER."
"Acknowledged,"
said Wildstar. "I've just split them up. Some of the bogies are headed
your way; we've almost finished off their first wave of fighters now,"
commented Wildstar as he fired again while getting a look at the situation on
his scope and visually. "Everyone, head towards RP-532;
that's where they came from! I'm going to try raising the Andromeda now,
sir."
"Good
luck, Wildstar," said Priceman.
Wildstar nodded
once as he turned back towards his grim task.
******
Nova looked on
as the surface of Earth grew a little larger again in the deep night of space.
She was having to evade fire from the upper gun
emplacement of the Scorpion she was chasing while trying to get a missile lock
on it.
"We've got
it!" barked her RSO.
"Here we
go!" cried Nova as she let loose two missiles while a flash lit up
near-space behind her. They flew true, and soon, the Scorpion was history.
"Nova!"
cried Angie.
"What?"
"There's
one behind me! It got Colleen! My gunner's trying to get a bead on it!"
"Levinson!"
ordered Nova as the tail gunner tensed at his controls. "Give us some
fire!"
"Right!,"
snapped Levinson as he and Angie's tail gunner returned fire towards the fast
Scorpion, which was using its sheer power to try to evade, because for all
their speed, the relatively large boats weren't quite as maneuverable as an EDF
Astrofighter in the atmosphere. In space, it was a different story.
A moment later,
both of them got hits. The Scorpion broke off the attack and tried to escape,
but a missile whizzed in from above and blew it apart. Hartcliffe and his
pilots joined Nova and Gabe Jackson, who was leading his element of the Red
Centaurs.
"How bad
is it?" asked Hartcliffe.
"Got three
of them; they took out Schaefer," said
"The
others are still heading towards
"We'll go
a little ahead all o' you," volunteered Hartcliffe.
"Great.
We'll be right behind," said Nova.
"Good
luck," said
In her cockpit,
Nova frowned a little while Angie smiled for a second before switching her full
attention back towards her instruments and heads-up display. By then,
In the Denver
Megalopolis, pandemonium reigned as the first of the Scorpions won the race
and, with evilly smiling pilots, began a bombing run of the Western American
city and her suburbs. What had been a nice day turned into a lurid, hellish
scene. Buildings began to explode as the city was starkly illuminated by the
fire and flame caused by missiles from the enemy planes.
The horror of
the scene was only punctuated with screams until a few defense emplacements in
the city began to fire at the enemy planes. A moment later, the defending fighters
came right on their heels like hounds, with Tatiana getting the first one.
Angie and
Hartcliffe blew apart two of the enemy ships with missile barrages. Jablonski
took care of another one.
"Angie,
follow me!" cried Nova as two of the enemy bombers let loose two more
missiles and then streaked north, towards
In the streets
of
Nova gave Angie
a thumbs-up as she evaded the Scorpion's fire and managed to take care of it.
"Two down!
It's safe now!"
Nova nodded as
her plane roared back in towards the city of
Down below,
Teri Forrester just looked out her front door in shock as sirens continued to
go off, and smoke trailed up from the Flatirons towards the west.
"What's
going ON?" she cried as, unknown to her, Nova roared overhead in her
Tiger.
"Teri,
you'd better get back inside!" called Karl. "It's the Comet
Empire."
"The Comet Empire? They're still left? What about Nova and her
wedding?" cried Teri in panic. "How can they have one if the town's
bombed out?"
"Whew...everything's
fine," said Nova as she glanced down at the receding town of
"Ma'am,
what was that?," asked her RSO.
"Long
story," began Nova as her headset crackled. "Hello?" she said. "Hardy?"
"Forrester,
Jackson, get back up here with Hartcliffe," said Hardy. "We've just
found the carrier where these guys are comin' from. Wildstah and I are about to
hit it, but we could use some backup..."
"
"Hartcliffe
and I got them," he replied.
"Great!
Hardy, we'll meet you in a moment. What's your current vector?"
"RP-232."
"Roger,"
said Nova as she began to ascend again, followed by Angie, Hartcliffe, and the
others.
A minute later,
Wildstar and Laurel Hartmann caught a glimpse of the enemy carrier. They were
surprised to observe that it was only a single-deck carrier, but it was more
than dangerous enough, given that it was in the midst of launching more
Scorpions.
"Where's
her escorts?" asked
"I'm not
sure; maybe it's a raider," said one of
"Well,
whatever it is, it's not going to be around long enough to get to report back
about us to its command ship," said Wildstar in a grim and angry voice.
"We can't let it launch those boats, whatever we do! Everyone, follow me!
We're gonna hit the front of her flight deck!"
Wildstar's
nearest wingman, accompanied by
"Strange...weren't
Comet Empire ships green and white?" asked
"They
were," said Wildstar.
"Why's
this one grey and white?" she asked as she locked missiles on it.
Wildstar and
Laurel fired together, followed by their comrades.
The enemy ship
had spotted them...but too late to save itself. Even though
it began to fire at them, their missiles were already on the way in and they
were on their way out by the time any of the energy bolts got near the
position. A moment later, hot gas and flame began to boil up out of the hull of
the enemy carrier, and it exploded.
"Yeah!" whispered Wildstar, who allowed himself a
moment's worth of jubilation before turning back to scanning space.
"Scratch a
destroyah!" whooped Hardy below him as he and
his wingmen pumped missiles into the Cometine carrier's escort, causing a flash
of light below them. "And heah come all the others from
"Hartcliffe?"
asked Wildstar.
"We got
all of them, sir, with help from Jackson and Forrester."
"Forrester?"
said Derek, who was a little filled with disbelief. "Nova?"
"I'm
fine," she said over the radio. "I'm reading more blips,
though."
Derek looked at
his own radar. "You're right...but what is it?"
A minute later,
his question was answered as five blips poured out of one of the others.
"Damn!
They've got more carriers out there! And they just launched a second
wave!"
Ten more
Scorpions roared in, but Derek and his squadron evaded a wave of fire, and then
shot missiles at the enemy boats right before they began to break formation.
Three enemy planes went down.
"Two to
go," said Wildstar. "Hartmann, you take the left flank. "We'll get the one on the right."
"Roger,"
she said. They engaged the enemy planes with their forward cannons, and, a
moment later, the Cometine planes were history.
"Where's
the fleet now?" asked Hartmann.
"Right
ahead," said Wildstar, spotting a few blips. "Everyone, prepare
to..."
"All
planes, this is the Andromeda," said an unfamiliar voice from the
new flagship. "We have the enemy in range. Clear the area; we're going to
fire."
Wildstar nodded
once and snapped, "All planes, clear the firing
area! I think they're just about finished now," he said with a tight
smile.
All the
survivors of the battle grouped around Hardy and Wildstar and accelerated out
of the battle area. They were heading back towards Earth when the new Andromeda
majestically opened fire, testing her new guns in battle for the very first
time.
With barrage
after barrage, two more Cometine carriers blew apart, along with four
destroyers. A single battleship opened fire on the Andromeda for a
moment, but its attack barely nicked the new ship. About two minutes later, it
was history.
One carrier was
left, along with its escorts. "General Gernitz!" said the squadron's
commander, a General Paltris. "We've taken heavy damage! The Earthmen repelled
us! They must've built a new space battleship in the Argo's
absence!"
"Where is
it?" asked Gernitz's deep voice on the speakers.
"Approaching,
sir," gulped Paltris.
"Did your
planes attack Earth?'
"Yes, they
did..."
"Your
mission was a success. You caused a measure of chaos for the Earthmen and
probed their defenses. Return now and report."
"Thank
you, sir," said Paltris formally. He gulped as the Andromeda turned
towards his fleet. "All ships...WARP!"
The Cometine
ships warped out just as the Andromeda fired again. However, its main
guns hit nothing this time as the enemy ships faded away.
"Sir?"
asked Admiral Falworth's exec.
"Cease the
attack," ordered Falworth. "We did our job. We've scared them off,
for now, at any rate. Let's head for home."
X.
WILDSTAR'S ANSWER
Earth : The Federal Megalopolis
Earth
Defense Headquarters
Commanding
General Singleton's Office
Wednesday
December 23, 2201
1006
Hours-Spacetime
"At
ease," said the Commander as he stared at Wildstar.
"Thank you,
sir," said Derek as he stood there in the office, all alone.
"Do know
why you're here?" asked Singleton.
"No,
sir," said Wildstar.
"I've
received the report of the Denver Incident," said the Commander.
"Luckily, the damage to the city and the surrounding towns was rather
minimal, thanks to your leadership and the excellent flying of your students,
as well as yourself. You'll be receiving a Blue Max for this, as well as four
pilots from your squadron and six from Hardy's squadron. I'm privileged to tell
you that one of them is Laurel Hartmann, and another is named Bryan Hartcliffe.
You may also be pleased to hear that some of the others include Mister
Hartcliffe's new wife, her friend, Miss Lubyanska, and your own fiancée.
Finally, of course, one has been posthumously awarded to Colleen Schaefer. In
my opinion, she would have made an excellent Black Tiger, Wildstar."
"I think
the same could be said for everyone who died, sir."
Singleton just
nodded. "You're going to begin two weeks' worth of leave tomorrow before
your next assignment. Bear in mind, your performance as an instructor, in
helping to train such an excellent squadron and integrate them into our
rebuilding Defense Forces, has been instrumental in the Council's decision as
to your new assignment."
Wildstar
stiffened. The Defense Council? What would
they have to do with a new assignment, unless....?
"Sir?," asked Wildstar. "As to my new assignment, am I
being assigned back to the Fleet?"
"No,"
said Singleton. "However, I can take the liberty of informing you that
you've been standing here in an improper uniform for about...six minutes."
"Sir? Uh...what's wrong with this?" stammered Wildstar, who
looked at his immaculate blue peacoat and blues. He couldn't see anything wrong
with them. What was the problem?
"It's
simply the improper uniform for your new assignment, should you wish to accept
it, that is," said the Commander with a slow smile as he stood up, opened
a drawer behind his desk, and pulled out a cedar box and an envelope.
"We'll deal with this in a moment," said the Commander. "First, for the coat. She's currently not here, but I
was able to ask Miss Forrester something about your tastes a few weeks ago. She
was taken aback by the question, and had no idea why I was asking it, but she
volunteered some information that proved useful. As a result, this new uniform
coat has been ordered for you. It's yours, should you accept the assignment the
Defense Council is offering you."
Wildstar's
heart sped up as Singleton pushed the box towards him and opened it.
Inside was a
black peacoat with a red collar. The trim was gold, along with the epaulets,
which were the proper ones for a full Captain of the Earth Defense Forces. The
features that made it unique were a gold anchor on the right breast and three
stripes on each sleeve in scarlet. The stripes stood for "Freedom, Peace,
and Strength" and were currently unique to the uniform of the Star Force,
and no Captain had worn a peacoat with an anchor on the breast since Avatar's
death.
"Sir, you
mean...?"
"Now, your
orders, should you accept them," said Singleton, who closed the box and
took the envelope. He opened it and read over the orders in silence before
saying, "The substance of these orders details your permanent reassignment
to the new First Interstellar Special Missions Force, which just formally came
into permanent existence by decree of the Defense Council six minutes ago at
1000 hours as of this date. This decree ratifies and makes permanent the
emergency directive I passed in September that formally reunited the Star Force
under my ultimate command. Your role in the new Interstellar Special Missions
Force is as its commanding officer. Consummate with your appointment, you are
also hereby promoted to the rank of Captain in order that you may assume
command as Captain of the refitted Argo and commander of the Star Force.
After you complete the two weeks' worth of personal leave which you have been
granted, you will assume command of the Argo on January 8, 2202 for the purpose
of beginning a shakedown cruise of the rebuilt ship on the morning of January
9, 2202. It is now my duty to ask you if you accept this assignment."
Wildstar took a
deep breath and then said, "Sir, I accept this assignment, and my
promotion, with gratitude and honor. Thank you, sir."
"Congratulations,
Captain," said Singleton after Wildstar put on his new coat and its
matching white ascot for the first time. "I'm sure that my suspicions will
turn out to be correct."
"Sir...your suspicions?"
"Yes. I
always felt that you'd be a worthy heir to Captain Avatar. I am pleased to see
that, at last, my guess has turned out to be correct. Wear that coat with
honor, Captain."
"Sir, I
will. I most certainly will. And, thank you."
"My best to you, and to Nova. I'll see both of you at
your wedding on Saturday. And, last of all, happy holidays."
Wildstar
snapped a formal salute, and left.
When he stood
outside, he looked down at himself, and thought I don't know what'll happen
next. I never expected that we'd be attacked again...and so soon. What does it
mean? Is this the end of the war with the Comet Empire, or the beginning of a
new conflict?
I can't
believe it...thought Wildstar after he paused again. Just three months ago,
I was the leader of a band of mutineers, who had to leave his girlfriend
behind. Now, at last, I've formally become the new Captain of the Argo,
and I'll soon be marrying Nova. What a change. But, as it was said, tomorrow
never knows...what the next day will bring. Whatever happens...I'd better be
ready.
END.
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