ALTERNATE TALES OF THE STAR FORCE

STAR BLAZERS---TREACHERY

Being the second part of THE NEW COMET--- BY: Frederick P. Kopetz


This Act is being completed with the Cooperation and Assistance of Derek A.C. Wakefield (as usual)---Freddo


ACT SIX: A WATCHFUL PEACE


I. SEEKING A LITTLE CHANGE

Earth

The Great Megalopolis

Central Hospital: Doctor Sakezo Sane’s Office

Saturday, September 7, 2205

01000 Hours: Earth Time


Nova Wildstar sat naked on an examining table, wiggling her toes lazily with a note of irritation on her face as Doctor Sane prepared yet another scanner for yet another scan. Since the couple was still having a problem conceiving, Nova had recommended that they see Doctor Sane. After two hours’ worth of uncomfortable (and rather embarrassing) examinations for both of them, Nova was beginning to wonder if she was doing the right thing or not. “We’ll be done soon, Nova. Just one more scan of you, seated, please.”

“With another cold scanner, I bet, right?” said Nova as she sighed at put her arms above her head. Derek sat near her in a chair in his civilian outfit of a t-shirt, jeans, and flip-flops; he had just gotten dressed again after a similar (and for him, very embarrassing) exam of his own. “Isn’t the first lesson that you learn in medical school is make all of those instruments as cold as possible.”

“You’re being silly, Nova. You know better. You know it’s just the jelly that makes these things feel cold,” said Doctor Sane. “Now put your arms up and relax.”

“Come on,” said Nova’s friend Lieutenant Natalie Fisher. She was assisting Sane today at the office.

Nova did so, taking a deep, aggravated breath as Doctor Sane scanned her abdomen and lower back yet again. As he did so, he went “Hmm, hmm, hmm,” over a video screen.

“What are you seeing in there, Doc?” said Derek.

“This is interesting,” he said as he peered at the screen through his little round glasses. “Very interesting…”

“What’s in there, Doctor?” snapped Nova. “Is there a neon sign inside my uterus that says ‘Eat at Joe’s?’”

“Oh, aren’t we funny today?” laughed Fisher.

“You’re being ridiculous, Nova,” sniffed Sane.

“Well, the way you’re mumbling, you two must be finding something interesting in there,” she said.

“I’ll discuss that with you two in my office in a few minutes,” said Doctor Sane.


Time passed. About forty-five minutes later, Nova (now again fully dressed in the yellow backless sundress and backless sandals she had worn that day) sat with Derek in Doctor Sane’s office as he said, “This is a rather interesting case.”

“Okay, what’s interesting about it?” snapped Commodore Wildstar as he held Nova’s hand as they sat together on a couch in front of Doctor Sane‘s desk. “I mean, we’ve been trying, and trying to have children, and…”

“Well,” said Doctor Sane. “I’ve done the standard protocols for both of you; scans and physical examination of your reproductive tract, reproductive organs, sperm count, and prostate check for you, Commodore, and a Pap Smear, physical exam, and reproductive tract and ultrasound scans of your organs for you, Nova. What I find interesting about this is that both of you are in excellent physical condition, and everything is there inside both of you, and everything is working properly. And the blood tests show me you two are clean of the birth control drugs now.”

“So there’s no good physical reason that I’m not getting pregnant?” said Nova.

“No physical reason,” said Sane. “Now, at the rate you two have been, shall we say, trying to become parents, I would normally have expected you, Nova, to be carrying already. Of course, I know you’re not. So, leaving out any physical reasons, I have to conclude that it’s all in your heads.”

“All in our heads?” said Derek.

“That’s crazy,” muttered Nova. “You’re saying it’s…?”

“Psychological,” said Doctor Sane. “Sometimes, I have seen that when couples put pressure on themselves to have children, the blessed event doesn’t happen, maybe because of that pressure. It’s like a baseball player trying too hard at home plate to get a hit. When a player tries that hard, they’ll often end up in a slump. But, when the player relaxes, they can bat .350 or .400 and break that slump.”

“So, you’re advising us to..?” said Nova.

“Just take some time, take a deep breath, have some fun, and relax when you do the deed, maybe try a new position or two. I know you two well enough to know there is no problem with your technique, shall we say. Don’t get desperate, and don’t think so much about getting pregnant. You do that, I’ll bet you a hundred credits that I’ll be seeing the newest Wildstar in my scanners in a few weeks or months. Okay?”

“Well, that’s not quite what we expected,” said Derek. “But…”

Nova took a nice deep breath. “I think we can take a hint,” she said. “The next time…uh…we try it…”

“Good luck,” said Doctor Sane.

“Yeah, good luck,” said Natalie as she popped her head in. “I’m sure that you’ll need maternity clothes pretty damn soon, Nova.”

“Yeah,” she said with a blush as she picked up the woven white leather bag that matched her shoes.


II. YET MORE TRAINING…

Earth

The Great Megalopolis

The Space Fighters’ Training School

Thursday, September 26, 2205

1430 Hours: Earth Time


High over the EDF Academy, Deke Wakefield flew towards an “unfriendly” target in a Cosmo Tiger II. Both planes were in the ground-based maroon and gold colors, but Deke’s was more visible because it had a black and gold thunderbolt pattern painted on its body and rear vertical stabilizers. The other plane had skull-and-crossbones markings.

“Okay,” said Deke. “Going through the checklist again, sir. Missiles Check.”

“Missiles Check,” said a voice in his headset in a deep Georgia accent from the back seat of his fighter; Commander Jefferson Hardy himself was flying with Deke today as his instructor.

“Heads-up Display, Check,” said Wakefield.

“HUD Check,” repeated Hardy. “Remember. When you’re really flyin’, this has to be second nature, Wakefield.”

“Yessir,” said Deke. “Forward Guns, Check. Wing Cannon, Check.”

“You’ve got it,” said Hardy as he made sure that the light dummy missiles were ready and that all weapons were on practice intensity. “You should have that bogie on your scope now…”

“Check,” grinned Deke grimly. “Brew,” he said wickedly. “I’m gonna roast your six.”


In the meantime, in his plane, Jere “Brew” Marrable had just gone through a similar checklist in a Tiger II astrofighter with Bryan Hartcliffe as the instructor in his back seat.

“Now, remember, mate,” said Hartcliffe. “You’re a veteran. You’re hungry, man. You want this guy’s butt!”

“Roger that,” said Brew. “Sticks, you’re gonna pay for every time you’ve ever bugged me about Dawn,” said Marrable as he grinned wickedly. “Head-on, huh?”

Brew had to pull up like crazy when practice-intensity laser fire skipped all around him.

“Coming like a bull, huh, Wakefield?”

In his plane, Hardy banged at the back of Wakefield’s seat. “You’ve got him stunned! Now get on his six, Wakefield!”

“Roger that,” said Deke as he swung up and around Brew’s plane, grinning as he began to track him from behind at high speed.


Down below, on the ground, other midshipmen looked up in awe and applauded as the loud sound of the astrofighters’ jets reverberated over the distant reaches of the campus.

“Look at them, Petroksky!” laughed a female Midshipman named Ruth Brunner. “Those flyboys are nuts!”

Midshipman Sasha “Petrovsky” smiled as she looked up at the two knights of the air in their sleek fighters. “I wonder who that guy in the plane with the thunderbolt on it is?” she said. “He’s really good!”

“Thought you didn’t like guys that much,” said Ruth.

“Not quite to date, but pilots are neat,” said Sasha.

“How do you know?” said Ruth. “Fighter jocks are a stuck-up, arrogant bunch of…”

Sasha almost blurted out. No, my Uncle’s a great pilot and a cool guy, too… before she bit her tongue. She had two good reasons.

First, no one was supposed to know that she was half-Iscandarian and that Commodore Wildstar was her uncle.

Second, it wouldn’t be a good idea to be thinking about the slight crush she had on her uncle when she was about to meet her aunt (and her uncle’s wife!) in a class on Radar Ops in just a few minutes.

Part of me wishes I could end up with a pilot, Sasha thought. Part of me wonders if it’s worth the bother.

Sasha looked up at the “dog fighting” fighters for a moment later before she said, “C’mon Ruth…let’s get to class.”

“Okay, Sasha…”


In class, a while later, Sasha sat writing various formulae in her notebook as, down in the lower part of the small lecture amphitheatre, Nova Wildstar, in a red-and-white Academy professor’s blouse, skirt, and pumps, stood writing more problems on the blackboard.

“Okay,” said Nova as she stopped writing and then turned to face her class of second-year and third-year Midshipmen; depending upon scheduling vagarities, cadets would take the Radar Operations I Course at different points in their academic career. “This is the underlying math for a basic Extended Gaussian Model Adaptive Processing or EG-MAP clutter filter matrix. Who can tell me why it’s important to have a clutter filter matrix on raw data? Ah, Mister Caruthers?” said Nova as she pointed at a third-year cadet in blue and white who had his hand up.

“Ma’am, it’s easy; the clutter filter clears out extraneous data from the matrix of received information.”

“True,” said Lieutenant Commander Wildstar. “But, why is it important that extraneous data is separated out from the matrix as soon as possible?”

“Bandwidth, ma’am,” said Caruthers as he began to sweat. He hadn’t read the assignment for today.

“You’re closer, but why is extraneous data bandwidth a problem? Why do we need this complex equation taking up milliseconds of processing time at the start of each scan?” said Nova as she scanned the room; a few hands were up. She noticed Sasha in her yellow-and-white uniform and said, “Miss Petrovsky?”

“Damn teacher’s pet,” muttered Caruthers in a whisper to his seatmate as Sasha said, “Ma’am, we need that data separated out so that it doesn’t overwhelm the computer at the beginning of each processing cycle of the first-stage unit.”

“Correct,” said Nova. “Do we mean the ship’s or installation’s main computer, or the sub-processor in the radar desk?”

“Actually, we mean the cooled and driven sub-processor hooked right to the aerial array, ma’am,” said Sasha.

“Not bad,” said Nova as she began to draw a flowchart. “Data goes here, through the aerial array sub-processor first, to take care of the basic processing steps. Then, it passes through the main computer and then is uploaded to the desk sub-processor for final display on the screen before you. That takes just a few processing bursts, and…”

There was a good-sized sonic boom outside, and a roar as Deke and Brew flew past the building. A window in the classroom cracked slightly with a loud clink as it took the air blast from the nearby sonic boom and the classroom shook.

“Hold on!” snapped Nova as she ran over to the window while the class began to buzz. “Silence!” she snapped. She felt the window. Good, she thought. This one’s just cracked; not broken like the other day. I’ve gotta talk to those guys again about getting their students too close to the quad.

The phone at the front of the classroom on the desk began to go off; Nova recognized the incoming number at once as being from another lecture hall up on the third floor. “Hi, Derek,” she said softly. “No broken windows down here on this deck-just cracked. Did they break a window up there in your Basic Combat Tactics class? Yeah…we’ve gotta talk to those Flight professors…no, we’re not filing complaints…yet…Maintenance will probably do that. Yes,” she said as she sat on her desk jiggling her foot nervously; one of her pumps fell off. “Oh…darn” she whispered. “Lost my shoe again; if it stays hot, I’m gonna have to wear something that buckles on tomorrow. Stop laughing, sir,” whispered Nova in an annoyed voice.

“She cracks me up,” muttered Caruthers as he began drawing a sketch of his professor in a notebook.

“I don’t know who’s worse,” muttered his seatmate, who was named Perkins. “Her or the flying sophomore computer down there in row two.”

“Yeah, she’s cute,” said Perkins.

“Who?” said Caruthers. “The old lady or Miss Petrovsky?”

“Both of ‘em,” said Perkins. “You think they’re related?”

“Why do ya say that?” muttered Caruthers.

“The eyes,” said Perkins. “Both of them have those long eyelashes.”

“I’m asking Petrovsky out,” said Caruthers as Sasha played with her long hair for a moment. That’s it, she thought. I’m putting this in a ponytail next week; it’s going all over the place!

“Good luck,” said Perkins.

“Why?”

“I hear that Sasha doesn’t date,” whispered Perkins right as Wildstar finished up with her phone call and slipped her shoe back on.

“Scuttlebutt?”

Nova then turned back to her class. “I have been reminded,” she said. “That next class session, we’re meeting in Richardson Hall Five next Tuesday with some other classes. The reason why is that there’s going to be a joint presentation by myself, Professor Sandor, and Commodore Wildstar about some recent actions we experienced in the field over the summer. Yes, I fought in a battle,” she said as the classroom buzzed. “And that’s why this material is important,” she snapped. “If you are in battle and your radar goes down, you’re blind. Knowing why the radar goes dead and having some idea of what to do to fix it can save your life in combat aboard a vessel. This is no game, people. Owing to the fact that we are not meeting again until next Thursday, I have to assign more in the book. Thus, we’re doing two lessons; pages 180-225, and then pages 230-249. To make sure we know what we’re talking about, there is the possibility I’ll give an evaluation at that time. Do we have any further questions before I return back to our material?”


“Not bad,” said Jefferson Hardy a few minutes later as Deke came in for a landing; he had beaten Brew in their simulated dogfight. “Pretty good grasp of basic combat. Did you get to fly recon duhin’ the summer? You’re sharp!”

“Yessir, I flew some recon during my time on the Rio Grande,” said Wakefield, who didn’t want to get into the details of the real battle he had flown against the Josiahites during the summer.

“Keep this up, and you’ll be in great shape for your final ops cruise,” he said with a grin. “Of course, you know that a space battleship’s a lot harder to land on than a landin’ strip, and it’s not like getting picked up by a cruiser, either.”

“I know, sir,” said Wakefield. “You have that arresting field to contend with,” he said as they began to taxi towards a ramp after clearing the runway at the Academy airbase at the very edge of the sprawling campus.

“Yessuh,” said Hardy to someone on the other end of the line as he put up his hand to stop Wakefield from talking. “Yessuh. I know we cracked some windows on campus.”

“I messed up, huh?” said Wakefield.

“Shoot, you can’t make an omelet without breakin’ some eggs,” said Hardy. “Likewise, you can’t fight an enemy half the time worryin’ about sonic booms. I’ll clear it; I always manage to…”

“Gotcha,” said Wakefield with a thumbs-up.

“Oh, yeah,” said Hardy. “Don’t be here Tuesday. Be at Richardson Five.”

“Why’s that?”

“Big pow-wow next week with Commodore Wildstar and some other people. Seems we had a little action back in the summer, and they want all of yew to hear about it.”

“Shit, I’d rather be flying,” said Wakefield.

“Yeah, you and me both,” said Hardy. “You and me both. Hey.”

“Yes?”

“Got a girlfriend?” said Hardy.

Deke stood in silence. “Not for a while, sir. Been…busy with my studies.”

“I see,” said Hardy. “Well, the Fleet didn’t issue you a girlfriend, so I guess it’s best you keep yoah mind in that fighter and not on those skirts for a bit. This is gonna be a tough semester for yuh. Got it?”

“Yessir,”  said Deke with a slight smile.

I wonder, Deke thought as a wave of melancholy hit him again. I wonder what Dawn is up to at Pan-Am University? Hope she’s keeping her nose in the books…and why isn’t she answering my letters? I thought when we broke up we were at least friends…


After Nova’s class was over, the midshipmen filed out, gathering in the corridor as a group of other Midshipmen came in to meet with Nova for her next class, on Basic Xenobiology.

 

The next group was a group of plebes, and one of them, Midshipman Decker, was terrified of meeting Midshipman Caruthers again, remembering the special harassment that Caruthers had given him the other day.

 

His worst fears were realized when, while stumbling around, he ran right into Caruthers.

 

“What the hell?” muttered Caruthers as he felt someone running into him. Then, he noticed green and white and snapped, “Plebe! Shit, I’ve just been rammed into by a skuzzy, dirty, smelly Plebe!”

 

“Ask him what his excuse is,” sneered Caruthers’ partner in crime Perkins.

 

“I recognize you, shithead!” yelled Caruthers. “Pop off, Midshipman Decker! What is your excuse?”

 

“Sir, no excuse, SIR!” snapped Decker as he came to attention.

 

Some others stood to watch this barbaric game as Sasha “Petrovsky” overheard and immediately began to become disgusted by this harassment.

 

“I’d have you do pushups now,” said Caruthers. “Except that I can’t do them in the hall! So give me some plebe knowledge!” he yelled, about to make Decker recite some of the many things that first-year cadets were required to memorize and spout off letter-perfect to upperclassmen. “What is the Motto of the Defense Forces?”

 

“Peace, Freedom, and Strength, SIR!” barked Decker.

 

“How’s the cow?” sneered Caruthers.

 

“Sir, she walks, she talks, she’s full of chalk, the lacteal secretions of the female of the bovine species are prolific to the nth degree, SIR!”

 

“Name the current amount of capital ships in the active Fleet, by number and vessel type!” snapped Perkins.

 

“Sir! There are currently forty-five commissioned space battleships, ten commissioned spacecraft carriers, ten fleet cruisers, and eighty-three patrol cruisers in the Fleet for a total of one hundred and forty-eight capital ships of the Line in the Earth Defense Forces, SIR!”

 

“Wrong,” snapped Caruthers.

 

“Sir?”

 

“Two of those space battleships and one of those carriers are currently in refit at this time and they are inactive,” snapped Caruthers. “You piece of crap! You should know that! Now give me the Chain of Command, starting from the Federation President…”

 

“Sir,” said Sasha as she spoke up.

 

“What?” snapped Caruthers.

 

“You’re going to make him late for class!” cried Sasha. “Remember, the ninety-second rule! They’re all in there already with a minute before class! And don’t you guys have someplace to go?”

 

“Listen, second-classman,” snapped Perkins. “You didn’t sign your contract yet, so you have no idea of our duties with this cadet! Get going before I start asking you stuff!”

 

“Harrison Perkins,” snapped back Sasha. “When you recognized me last June, you told me that this would be the end of my being treated like a plebe.”

 

Suddenly, the classroom door opened, and Nova came out. She immediately spotted Decker, who had been late before for her class and earned two hours’ worth of punishment as a result. “Mister Decker,” she said. “You have thirty seconds to get in here or I’m going to have to write you another late slip.”

 

“Ma’am, I’m sorry, ma’am!” he snapped.

 

Nova’s eyes ran over Caruthers, Perkins, and “Petrovsky” and she said, “Were the three of you holding up this plebe? You know the rules!”

 

“We was having some fun, that’s all,” lied Caruthers.

 

“Yeah, ma’am, we weren’t planning to hold this little guy up,” said Perkins. “Just lost…track of time, ma’am.”

 

That first guy was lying, thought Nova quickly. But, that other guy…maybe they just didn’t know what time it was. These are stupid kids, so I guess they didn’t flat-out lie, so I don’t think I can Honor Chit them for this. But, I can’t let this go. Not now.

 

“What about you, Petrovsky?” snapped Nova. “Racking scared plebes doesn’t seem like your style, Miss.”

 

They were doing it, ma’am, “ said Sasha. “I wasn’t. I just happened to overhear them, ma’am. I was just…sort of stuck here. In fact, I was trying to stop it!”

 

“I see. Not bad. You know, you two,” said Nova. “The requirements of the plebe system prohibit you from keeping even a first-year underclassman from attending his required classes. Therefore, you two are to let Mister Decker enter his class at once; consider it a direct order!”

 

“Aye, aye, ma’am,” said Perkins and Caruthers together.

 

Nova took a pad from out of her skirt pocket and began to write furiously. “Six hours of punishment tours each, both of you,” snapped Nova as she handed Perkins and Caruthers punishment slips. “The offense is delaying an underclassman from attending a required class. Mister Decker, you are to see me after class in my office at sixteen-thirty. You too, Miss Petrovsky.”

 

Sasha looked startled at this. “Yes, ma’am,” said Sasha.

 

“Now post out of here, gentlemen,” snapped Nova.

 

“Ma’am, we get a warning,” said Caruthers.

 

Lieutenant Commander Wildstar glared at Caruthers and said, “I warned you about this at the beginning of the semester, Mister! And you can’t go and cover up your stupidity and abuse of the system any longer, Midshipman! Now go to your tactical officer and set up arrangements to march off your time! You are to begin tonight!”

 

“Aye, aye, ma’am,” snapped Caruthers as he came to attention. Then, he saluted. Nova returned the salute and said, “Mister Decker, get in there. I don’t want to have to write you up, too.”

 

“Aye, aye, ma’am!” he screamed. Then, he about-faced and ran into the classroom.

 

Nova shook her head in disgust and slammed the door of her classroom as she prepared to teach her Biology section.

 

“She looks pissed off,” said Perkins.

 

“She should be,” said Sasha. “You two guys know the regs by now about those poor plebes. They’re fair game up until ninety seconds before class. Then you have to let them enter their class. And you can’t cover up with excuses, either. That’ll lead to even worse things for you! They don’t tolerate these games around here, Caruthers! This isn’t your Junior Space Cadet Corps unit at your school, my friend! This is the real military! Do you wanna go up for an honor violation for lying to an officer? You’re just lucky that Wildstar was in a rush and she didn’t write you up a green Honor chit, too! You keep this up and they’ll catch you in something! Straighten up and fly right!”

 

“What?” said Caruthers. “Timing me with a stopwatch, Sasha?”

 

“Oh, we’re on a first-name basis now?” said Sasha in an amused tone of voice. “Why?”

 

“Would you like to go out with me to get some ice cream on the weekend?” said Caruthers as he bowed.

 

“You?” giggled Sasha. “I wouldn’t go out with you if you were the last man on Earth. Good day, gentlemen.”

 

Sasha walked off with her nose up in the air.

 

Good day, gentlemen,” mocked Perkins as soon as Sasha was out of earshot.

 

“Yeah,” sneered Caruthers. “Looks like she’s trying to imitate the famous Lieutenant Commander Wildstar herself. Damn little blonde science geek. She probably sleeps with her computer like our Prof does.”

 

Perkins snickered at that.

 


 

In San Diego, California, it was eight hours ahead, which meant it was close to midnight at Pan-Am University.

 

Dawn Westland sat in an upscale coffeehouse club in a nice, conservative blouse, mid-calf length skirt with a matching vest and dressy open-toe pumps (it was a warm night) with a young man she had decided to consent to a first date with.

 

“So, you’re in the Nursing program,” said the young man, who was named Peter Hunt, a fellow with red hair, freckles, and glasses. He had a rather cute, boyish face, Dawn thought.

 

“That’s right,” said Dawn with a smile as she stirred her coffee.

 

“You know, you look like you’re going for a job interview,” chuckled Peter.

 

“You don’t like my outfit?” said Dawn as she tossed some of her bleached blonde bangs out of her eyes.

 

“No, it’s not that at all…you just…”

 

“Don’t dress like the other girls,” said Dawn with a smile. “Right?”

 

“Yeah, you’re…different.”

 

“I have a reputation to uphold,” said Dawn as she thought. And I have another reputation to kill. I remember the way I was those first semesters…dressed like…that…when I knew that guy Stovall…after…after…him she thought as her eyes lit upon a girl in a barely-there halter top. That me is dead and in the grave. Just like the person I was in high school.

 

“You too,” she said as she studied Peter. He was in black slacks, a white shirt, tie, and a lab coat. “Pre-med, I take it?”

 

“Yeah,” said Peter. “What do you think of that Blavatsky’s Advanced Biochemistry class?”

 

“Piece of cake,” said Dawn with a smile. “Preparing any med school applications yet?”

 

“No, have to do my world service first,” said Peter. “I’m seeing the EDF Recruiter tomorrow. He says that I can go in as a Survey Officer, Life Sciences Officer, or Pharmacist’s Mate, and that with my grades, I’m a good shot to be able to get into Central Medical School after I do my initial MOS training and serve a year. Where are you doing your service?”

 

“World Health Organization Uniformed Corps,” said Dawn. “I’ve just signed up. Listen, why don’t you tell that EDF recruiter to take a hike? WHO needs good people, and you could probably get into med school faster that way, provided you have the cumulative grade point average. I’m afraid I don’t.”

 

“Why not? You’re bright. You could be a ship’s surgeon someday.”

 

“Like, I take it, you are hoping to be?”

 

“Uh-huh. Why not? Why not stand up there in formation with me at the end of the year in a blue uniform getting sworn in? EDF’s a great career, you know.”

 

“I partied too much my first year, had bad grades, and got thrown out of Sigma Alpha Gamma as a result. But that was then. This is now. Mind getting us some more lattes?”

 

“Okay,” said Peter with a mock salute. “Be back in a minute, milady.”

 

Dawn’s lip curled down as she looked at his receding back. He’s not Mister Right, and I can tell at once, she thought. Well, that’ll be another first date chocked off. Wonder what Mom sent me in the mail?

 

With Bach’s Canon in D playing in the background (as a piano solo), Dawn took a letter out of her purse. It was from her mother Lynn, whom lived here in San Diego. Dawn opened the letter from her mother Lynn and began to read, sighing as another envelope fell out onto her lap.

 

She read the following:

 

Dawn, Dearest:

 

How are you? You haven’t written or called since the beginning of the month? I hope you’re okay. I hope that you’re not doing anything that would make your Father ashamed of you again…

 

I’m fine, Mom, thought Dawn. I’ve just been busy, school and all…you worry too much. 

 

Dawn skipped down several lines in the letter after reading some general pleasantries to read,

 

Everyone in the old neighborhood is just fine. I’ve been thinking, Dawn, what a tragedy it is for you to throw away old friends…

 

Not this again, thought Dawn with some measure of irritation. I already know where this is going, Mom. I recognize his return address.

 

….aside from everything else, Dawn, I know and you know you haven’t hooked up with anyone there at Pan-Am even though I know you’ve been dating. I think you owe it to Deke to read this letter and answer it. I like him, too. I always have…

 

Dawn looked at the letter again, recognizing Deke’s return address. Before Peter could come back, she tore the letter quietly in half without opening it.

 

I’m sorry, Mom, thought Dawn. Deke was the past. I can’t go back there again. I’d need to find someone with even more charm and kindness than him to consider a second date, let alone getting married. And all Deke wanted was vengeance, vengeance, vengeance, even naming his gun after me and his mother…how freaky. I loved him, but sometimes, I have chills going down my back when I think of him, and…him and the EDF. If I were to date someone who was going to be an officer, let alone an officer, he’d have be a really great person, someone who could charm a mouse into jumping into a trap, and I don’t know any guy in the military who is like that. Sorry, Mom. Sorry, Deke. Much as I think about you at times, Deke, you were the past. That was then….

 

Dawn finished ripping up the letter from Deke and she wadded the pieces up into a ball. She thought, Deke, and this is now. I’m sorry. Dating just doesn’t do it with me right now, not you…not anyone… She decided she had to get out of here.

 

When Pete got back with the coffee, he found an empty chair, several credits on the table, and a short note that said, Sorry, Pete, I have to go. Don’t call me. I’ll call you. Dawn.

 

“Now, what the hell did I say that turned her off so much?” said Pete. He shrugged and said, “Oh, well, there’s that blonde in Hagerman’s class…”

 

Unknown to her, this would be the last date that Dawn Westland would be on until Friday, December 13, 2205.

 

Then, when that night rolled around, Dawn’s life would begin to change, forever.

 


III. MYSTERIES AND TALKS

Earth

The Great Megalopolis

The Space Fighters’ Training School

Thursday, September 26, 2205

1630 Hours: Earth Time


Time often creates funny coincidences.

It just so happened that while Dawn was ripping up her latest letter in San Diego at midnight, Deke Wakefield was sitting in the Student Union at the Space Fighters’ Training School going over his schedule. He had received an e-mail recently from another midshipman who was a friend of his. He was looking over the printout again. It stated, in part:

Hey, Dekesticks…

I’ve got this friend who is really smart in most things but sort of hopeless with an AK-01, even though she says she’s trying to improve her marksmanship. I’ve heard stories about you and DJ, so I bet you’re great at marksmanship. Please meet us on the range at 1730 today before dinner and give my friend some pointers?

Thanks,

Trish

In the meantime, the very Midshipman that Trish was referring to sat in a professor’s office with her arm around a crying Fourth Classman named Decker as he said, “That’s right, ma’am. Those guys….they’re always on my ass. I’ve been late to class three times in the past two weeks because they wait for me in the passages and they love to make me late with their plebe games.”

Nova Wildstar sighed and said, “Mister Decker, do you have a hard time with your Company Commander?”

“No, ma’am,” he sniffed. “Well, no worse than anyone else in our company or platoon, anyway. It’s just those guys. It started in Beast Barracks, and it’s been getting even worse. First week in Beast Barracks, they said they were going to run me out of here by Christmas!”

“Midshipman, I think you’ve learned enough to know by now that’s a standard line,” said Nova. “You don’t want to know how many times I had people saying they were going to run me out of the program during my first year’s ROTC summer training at the University of Colorado. I had a hellish first semester myself after that.”

“You’re telling me it’s all going to be like that?” sobbed Decker.

“Actually, right after holiday break, it begins to let up a little as these guys see you can do it and stick with the program. In other words, it gets better. It is not the end of the world. You’re a smart young man, Mister Decker. I think you can adapt and make it right through here to be recognized by those guys in June. Then, they’ll call you by your first name, and they’ll forget everything. It’s all like a big game.”

“Actually, ma’am, they won’t,” said Sasha.

“Excuse me?” said Nova.

“Permission to speak candidly, ma’am,” said Sasha as she stood in the office near the blue-striped partition in her gold second-year Midshipman’s uniform facing Nova.

Nova nodded.

“I pointed out the ninety-second rule to those two, and they said they were going to treat me like a plebe again,” said Sasha. “They also made some pretty sexist remarks. They knew what they were doing, I think. Playing games.”

“Now I see,” said Nova. “We might be able to get them on lying, or at least give them a good scare that’ll teach them a lesson. Do you wish to file harassment charges against those two and add that they were probably evading about their answer to a superior officer? It can be before the Honor Committee by tomorrow if you like. It’s a lot easier if another cadet initiates it, Miss Petrovsky. I have more channels to go through than you do on this, believe it or not.”

“Ma’am, it doesn’t go that far…not yet,” said Sasha. “Least I don’t think so. Maybe the punishment you gave them will give those jerks the hint.”

“I see,” said Nova. “Mister Decker,” she said as he wiped away his tears. “Would you like to swear before the Honor Committee? Those two are clearly covering something. That’s probably lying under the Code, like I said to Miss Petrovsky. And it’d look better if you spoke up.”

“No, ma’am!” he said.

Nova said, “The Code says that you can’t lie, cheat, or steal, or tolerate those who do.”

“I know! But, ma’am, I can’t be a barracks lawyer! Not in my first month! Company commander hears about this, and he’ll be racking my ass worse than ever!”

Nova shut her eyes and nodded. “It seems very difficult for you, Mister Decker. Have you thought about seeing the Chaplain about this?”

“I can’t turn in an upperclassman,” he snapped. “Scared.”

“Seeing the Chaplain isn’t turning anyone in,” said Nova. “It’s just talking…” she said as she thought, Maybe the Chaplain can make him see reason. I’m not going to push him right now because he is so upset, but he really should find an honor rep and start talking about those guys. Or maybe I should. I know…I’ll talk to a JAG about it. I’d have to, anyway, part of the procedure. He or she can tell me if we can make this stick or not.

“I can’t flunk out of here, or get kicked out on demerits or resign,” sobbed Decker. “Ma’am, if you turn in another chit on me, that’ll put me on the first step towards Aptitude Probation, and…”

“I’m not writing a chit on you today for being late,” said Nova. “Not as long as you make a bargain with me.”

“What?”

“If those guys ever start harassing you like that again, you are to post around here and see me about it. Get up and look around that divider, Mister Decker. Behind my desk. Whose desk is that?”

“Ma’am, Commodore Derek Wildstar’s desk! But…”

“I know. Scared to talk with a flag officer?”

“Ma’am, he’s…”

“He’s a nice person to talk to. You have an open door to my office, and if I’m not here, you have an open door to his office, too. If this garbage starts up again, you are to set up an appointment with the Chaplain and then see one of us about it. We’ll get it taken care of.”

“But, ma’am…the system…”

“Not even the plebe system allows upperclassmen to set you up repeatedly for offenses like that that will get you in trouble. Those midshipmen are abusing their authority, and the abuse of authority is something that makes me sick to my stomach, and also makes the Commodore sick to his stomach. Got that?”

“Yes, ma’am,” said Decker. “I couldn’t take it if I got thrown out of here,” said Decker. “My parents couldn’t tolerate it, either. Especially my father.”

“I’m sure you can make it,” said Sasha with a smile. “Buck up, Midshipman. I made it; so can you.”

“Thanks, ma’am,” said Decker.

“I’m not a ma’am,” said Sasha as she stood up.

“Ma’am?” said Decker as he looked at her in wonder and Nova looked a little wide-eyed. Then, she began to pointedly look at a memo on her desk, deliberately ignoring the midshipmen for a minute. While she knew what was going on, she knew that as an officer, she couldn’t accept this breach in Academy protocol, so she just decided to pretend nothing was going on.

“My name’s Sasha,” said Sasha as she extended her hand. “What’s your name?”

“Jim,” said Decker as he swallowed. “My name’s Jim.”

“Pleased to meet you, Jim,” said Sasha with a smile as she shook hands with him and informally recognized him. “If those jerks give you a hard time, come see me, too. I know some good men and women here. Not all of us upperclassmen are assholes like those guys. Of course, you know I can’t call you Jim out there. And don’t call me Sasha with them listening or they’ll make it harder for you. In fact, I may even be in trouble now for saying that.”

“Saying what?” said Nova. “I didn’t hear anything…mind’s drifting a bit.”

“Ma’am?” said Decker.

“I was just thinking about what I’m making the Commodore for dinner tonight,” laughed Nova. “Or maybe we’ll call out for pizza or something.”

“Ma’am, I didn’t know officers called out for pizza, ma’am!”

“We do,” said Nova. “And lighten up a bit! Okay?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Nova then sat up straight. “Okay, Mister. Dismissed.”

Decker and “Petrovsky” saluted and turned to go. But, as Decker left, Nova got up and said, “Miss Petrovsky, I did not dismiss you yet. Stay there.”

“Yes, ma’am,” said Sasha with a poker face. She was expecting her aunt to rip her a new one for ‘recognizing’ Decker.

Decker left, and Nova shut the door to the office. Then, she turned to Sasha. “Miss…Petrovsky...” she said with an unusual emphasis. “What you did was against regulations. As an officer, I have to admonish you to be more careful and circumspect about violating the plebe system.”

“Yes, ma’am,” said Sasha with downcast eyes.

“Sasha,” said Nova.

“Huh?”

“Stand up.”

Sasha stood.

“As your aunt, I’m proud of you,” said Nova as she hugged Sasha and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. “Sometimes, as a human being, you have to bend the rules a bit to help your subordinates. Between you and I, you did the right thing with that scared plebe. Just be careful, and don’t act like that in public, especially in front of a company commander or a tactical officer or, for that matter, most of the rest of the faculty. Although, granted, old Berinovsky would understand what you did,” said Nova, who was referring to Commodore Nikolai Berinovsky, the gruff old Dean of Midshipmen for the past two years. While he was in charge of discipline, had been known to pull strings for deserving midshipmen and would sometimes do whatever he could to make sure a promising midshipman didn’t get kicked out.

“Ma’am, the old man would understand?”

“He sure will,” said Nova. ”Especially after I get off the phone with him. We know it’s about time we pulled in some favors.”

“I see,” said Sasha. “Uh…as long as we’re not being formal…Aunt Nova?”

“Yes?”

“I have to go soon. I have to get into fatigues and go see this guy at the rifle range. I’ve got to get my marksmanship scores up.”

“Okay,” said Nova. “Do me a favor.”

“Yes?”

“Watch that Decker kid. I think he’s about to crack. I know all the signs.”

“I’ll do my best,” said Sasha. “Ma’am,” she added as she saluted.

Nova smiled and returned the salute. “Dismissed, Miss Petrovsky.”

“Thank you, ma’am,” said Sasha. She promptly left.


Later, Nova sat down for coffee with a JAG officer named Commander Shizuko Matsuhira.

Matsuhira said, “Interesting story, but it’s kind of close. But thanks for coming in anyway. I think you advised the cadets to do the right thing by getting them to consider speaking to their honor representative, Wildstar.”

“So, you don’t think I have grounds to go up before them myself?” said Nova.

“The Honor Code is supposed to be the Midshipmen’s department. I’ve done a few of these; they make officers presenting cases before them sit down with a JAG for advice and consent like we’re doing now and then a subcommittee first because they want to make sure the charges are going to be 100% ironclad when an officer presents it. Call it professional courtesy and deferring to higher rank, as it were. They don’t want some officer up there proffering charges that are flimsy. Looks too much like command influence on the Honor System, particularly when a professor is up there doing it. There have been cases where some professors, not you, but some in the past, have used this little mechanism to bounce cadets they didn’t like through a side door. That’s the job of the honor people, tactical officers, and the Dean of Students and Commandant. I’d say that you should get them to speak to an Honor Rep about it. Even if those guys are called before a subcommittee for consideration of a case, if a student offers what they think is a violation in good faith and it is turned down, it doesn’t look so bad for them. That is why I am denying your Advice and Consent for Requesting Mast as an Instructor before the Honor Subcommittee. Of course, we need to note this. You know, the paper trail,” said Matsuhira as he handed Nova a computerized padd.

Nova signed off after Matsuhira, and then she said, “Thanks for listening.”

“You’re welcome. Between you and me, just watch those guys. Idiots like that are going to try something again. And if they tell a really bald-faced lie to you or another officer, and those other two midshipmen don’t go into that walnut-paneled room to see the Honor people first, I think that I’ll probably see this case again, Lieutenant Commander.”

“Yeah, I was afraid of that, sir,” said Lieutenant Commander Wildstar.

“Hey, you did your duty. Have a nice weekend.”

“Thanks a lot,” said Nova as she saluted and left.


It took a considerable amount of bravery on Decker’s part, but he went to the Honor Committee offices in Frankfurter Hall a while later. He was now sitting down with two senior Honor Reps, a young woman named Naomi Clements and a young man named Kyle Lindenmuth. The near-empty simulated walnut-paneled subcommittee hearing room with its sky-blue carpeting looked very intimidating to Decker as he sat in a room alone with these two rather grim seniors telling the story of what had happened earlier.

“So, let’s get this straight,” said Clements as she ran a hand through her hair while the lights above gleamed off her mahogany-colored skin. “You’re saying that Mister Caruthers is guilty of lying because in response to Commander Wildstar’s question, namely, “Were the three of you holding up this plebe? You know the rules!”

Mister Caruthers said, “We was having some fun, that’s all.”

 

“Yes, ma’am,” said Decker.

 

“And then, what did Mister Perkins say?” said Lindenmuth in his most lawyerly tones. Lindenmuth had just received an early acceptance to Federal University Law School early that day, and he was flush with his authority, knowing that his time on the honor board had helped get him accepted to the planet’s top law school.

 

“He said,” gulped Decker. “He said, ‘Yeah, ma’am, we weren’t planning to hold this little guy up…Just lost…track of time, ma’am.’”

 

“I see,” said Lindenmuth. “Would you excuse me for a minute?” he said as the light gleamed off his blonde hair. He looked like some kind of cadet god in there to Decker, who felt like a grungy little plebe in his wrinkled uniform. He was surprised that these two midshipmen weren’t ranking him for his appearance, not knowing that military bearing didn’t count for much in this building on campus. Lindenmuth got up from his chair at what was normally a prosecutors’ table in the small courtroom to lean against the bench and huddle with Clements out of Decker’s hearing.

 

“Not an intentional lie,” said Clements. “They didn’t deny what they were doing, Kyle. They…you know…CYA…”

 

“Yeah. Think we should be sitting up here in these five seats doing this one next week?” said Lindenmuth as he looked up at the five-seat Subcommittee bench used for preliminary Honor Code hearings.

 

“Not enough evidence. We’ll open a file, but we need a witness.”

 

“We could subpoena Wildstar,” said Lindenmuth.

 

“You know professors don’t like that sort of thing,” said Clements. “And this is a tight one.”

 

“File 13 him, then?”

 

Clements nodded. “Get him out of here. Keep a case file open for fourteen days.”

 

Lindenmuth nodded.

 


 

A while later, Decker was walking to his dorm with his head down after having been refused and then calmly lectured to by Lindenmuth and Clements about while they were glad that he brought the case, that they could take no immediate action unless someone corroborated what he had said.

 

Going into his room, he found a blue chit sitting on his desk. It read:

 

QUARTERS INSPECTION ADVICE

 

On  26 September 2205

 

Midshipman Fourth Class Decker, James

 

Was cited for the following Inspection Irregularities.

 

Dusty Counter in quarters.

Books in disarray.

Improperly made Bunk.

 

For these irregularities, Midshipman Decker is assigned Four (4) Hours of Punishment Tours on the Central Quad under arms.

Commencing 1900 Hours this evening.

NOTE: You have Accumulated Twenty-Four (24) Demerits this month alone for various offenses.

This is to advise you that you may be called before the Dean of Students at any time for a Warning since you are less than five (5) demerits away from the twenty-eight (28) Demerits that can be accumulated for one quarter to retain a seventy (70) or above in Military Deportment, and Command may soon be required to place you on Military Aptitude Probation. YOU HAVE ACCUMULATED THESE DEMERITS IN THE FIRST MONTH OF FORMAL CLASSES. THIS IS UNACCEPTABLE, CADET! YOUR MILITARY ATTITUDE IS A DISGRACE TO THIS COMPANY, MISTER! START ACCUMULATING SOME MERITS TO OFFSET THIS!

Signed,

GK

Lieutenant George King, Tactical Officer, Company D.

Decker did the only thing he could when he saw the chit.

He put his head down on his desk and began to cry.


In the meantime, Deke Wakefield had arrived on the rifle range in his green fatigues.

His friend Trish escorted him to the firing line where he found a young woman sitting there adjusting her rifle. Her hair was tucked up inside her fatigue cap, and her eyes were partly hidden behind firing range goggles; he couldn’t quite tell what color they were. However, Deke thought she had an adorable face and winning smile. He vaguely wondered what color her hair was; he couldn’t see much of it.

“Hi,” she said with a little smile as Deke introduced himself. “I’m Midshipman Third Class Sasha Petrovsky”.

“Well, Miss Petrovsky,” he said softly, wondering what her build looked like inside the baggy fatigues. “The first thing we have to learn here is to be sure you’re caressing the trigger, not squeezing it real hard.”

“Yes,” said Sasha. “I have a relative in the Defense Forces; he keeps on telling me the same thing. Can you show me how you do it?”

“Well,” said Deke as he took her hands; which were hidden under thin riflemen’s gloves, “this is how you should place your hands…”


About an hour passed. Deke noticed that with someone guiding her, Midshipman Petrovsky’s shooting scores were beginning to increase dramatically. However, he wondered where she got a certain odd firing habit from; right before firing, her body and arms would sometimes twitch almost imperceptibly, as if she was spotting in on something that couldn’t be seen by anyone else. He noticed that after she sometimes did this, and then took and held a deep breath to improve her sight picture, she was almost always right on target. If she learns to become more consistent, he thought, then she’ll be hitting Expert after about one or two more sessions.

However, for Sasha, strange things sometimes came to mind when Deke touched her; precognitive visions of something; being with Deke on a beach, sometime in the future. She wasn’t sure in her head where the beach was; was it on Iscandar, or was it on Earth?  Sasha didn’t know for sure what it was.

Also, whenever she got one of these visions, a strange chill went through Deke. He didn’t know what it was, or why, but even though he barely knew this girl, he occasionally felt strange, strong protective feelings that hit him hard and then faded away like phantoms.

I don’t know what this is, or what is going on, thought Deke. It’s odd. Maybe I’m going crazy. I have no idea what is happening, but something is telling me to come back next week; she’ll need more lessons, and something is telling me to run like hell. What it is…I have no idea.

Finally, as if he was in a dream, Deke agreed to come by again next week, on the afternoon of October the third, to teach Sasha yet again. She gave him an amicable goodbye and he left.

As Deke was walking back to his billet, another thought hit him.

Now, this is really weird, he thought. I don’t know why, but when I was close to that girl…I wasn’t thinking about Dawn at all. That in itself is strange; I want to get back with Dawn; I want to meet with Dawn…we have to talk. But, around this Staci, Sava…what’s her name, oh…Sasha…that’s it…I…what…feel like I’ve known her since the day I was born? Now that’s a weird concept. I’ve grown up with Dawn. Yet I just met this girl today. And I don’t even know if she’s stocky, thin, what color her eyes are, what color her hair is, nothing. I don’t know if I’m attracted to her…or why…it’s more like…I’m being pulled toward her. But what? And how?

Deke, indeed, was beginning to experience something unique, and so was Sasha.

Sasha’s unique… ancestry had created a very interesting mix of genes and psionic abilities. Some abilities that were normal to Iscandarians were muted in Sasha, while other abilities that were almost long-lost in her race were again dominant.

Deke Wakefield didn’t know it yet, but he would be in for a very interesting roller-coaster ride over the next few months and, possibly, the next few years.   


Illustration Below: “Summer 2003” from the Japanese Yamato Fan Site LUCK@10 PARADISE” © 2005 by LUCK10 STRIPPER Used by Permission; not to be reproduced without the permission of the original site owner. Have a look at the site at: LUCK@10PARADISE #3

 

2003☆SUMMERLater that evening, at the Wildstar residence, as the sun began to set, Nova sat outside in the yard with Derek watching the sun going down.

“What a beautiful sunset,” she said as she reached into a pizza box for yet another slice.

“Yeah,” said Derek, who had changed out of his uniform into a white pullover, blue shorts, and brown loafers. “We haven’t seen them like that for a while.”

“It’s because it’s getting towards fall,” said Nova as she ate her pizza. She wore a white top of her own, against which the sun shone pink, and she also wore tan cropped slacks and brown clogs. “The sky always seems to look different around Indian summer.”

“Nova, is something bothering you?”

“Yes, Derek,” she replied after a long pause.

“Is it me?”

“No. Remember that plebe we saw being harassed the other day when we were at the Academy one evening?”

“Yeah?”

“That Caruthers guy is doing it again, and I don’t have a good feeling about it,” said Nova. Nova then went into a brief explanation of everything that had happened both inside and then outside her Radar and Xenobiology classes earlier that day, along with her visit to the JAG Office in Frankfurter Hall. “What do you think?” asked Nova when she was done with the story.

“I don’t believe that guy turned you down like that,” said Derek. “It sounds like the Honor Board should at least look into this. They should at least do an investigation and put the fear of authority into that damn cadet, if nothing else.”

Nova nodded. “I agree with you. But, as I’m finding out, they don’t do things at the Space Fighters’ Training School the same way they do them in our outfit.”

Derek grinned. “The Star Force, I take it.”

“Uh-huh. Sure, the EDF has a lot of…paperwork,” said Nova as she got up and kicked off her clogs. She got Derek to get up, and he figured out why she had removed her shoes when she began to walk him towards a seawall at the edge of their yard that overlooked their small bay beach. He knew that Nova liked to sit there and kick the sand around with her toes when she was thinking about something. “But the paperwork here…,” said Nova as she dangled her legs off the seawall, dug her feet into the sand and kicked some sand up quite a distance. “The stuff here is paperwork on top of paperwork. Procedure on top of procedure. I thought I’d look forward to teaching cadets, and I do…but so much of the Academy is filled with…bureaucratic BS.”

“Congratulations,” said Derek. “As an outsider, you found out one thing they teach at the space school; Thou Shalt Learn to deal With Chits.”

“We had chits in ROTC, Derek. But, here, everything seems ruled by paperwork; to the point where you exclude plain old common sense.”

“Another astute observation,” said Derek as he picked up a pebble and threw it towards the Bay. The setting sun was now reflecting off the water, and it looked gorgeous. Then, he said, “Changing the subject….”

“Yes, I’d like to try again today,” said Nova. “Operation Stork.”

“You have that holo-video series you like on tonight.”

“I can skip it for a week,” said Nova. “You don’t get sunsets like that every day.”

“Yeah, that’s a point,” said Derek. He smiled at her and said, “Let’s go in the house and open the blinds.”

Nova impishly got up. “Who said anything about the house?”

“Nova?”

“We do have a backyard, or we can do it here on the beach…” she said with a playful grin. “What do you say?”

Derek stood and scooped his young wife up off the ground, laughing as she squealed like a schoolgirl. “Sounds like a plan,” he said. He gave her a long kiss and said, “Let’s go…”

Nova smiled at him as she was swept off towards the beach; then she began to laugh as he sat down on the sand and Derek began to playfully undress her, laying her clothes out on the sand so she’d have something to lie on.

When Derek stripped, he came eagerly to his wife’s waiting arms. It felt so nice to be with her like this in the warm sunset…


IV. A SERIOUS MEETING…

Earth

The Great Megalopolis

Earth Defense Headquarters

The Chambers of the Earth Defense Council

Friday, September 27, 2205

1000 Hours: Earth Time


Commanding General Hiram Singleton looked out at the recently reconstituted Earth Defense Council, which now comprised seventeen members since a recent Act of Parliament had added the Surgeon General, who was also the Minister of Health, Education, and Welfare, and the Minister of Solar System Energy Transmission to the Council as full members. The Council now consisted of sixteen members, with Singleton present as presiding officer and tie-breaker if needed.

President James R. Mendellsohn, who would be up for re-election next year, had just yielded to public pressure in regards to the nagging and continuing Cometine threat and he had just recently ordered Prime Minister Dixon Gelder (who had recently taken office after new emergency elections) to form a new Government. Gelder had, therefore, just shifted around the Defense Council, and he was present to oversee this first meeting of his new Council with the President. General Singleton was still the Commanding General of the Earth Defense Forces, and General Stone was still his Chief of Staff, but a Doctor Harold Mattingly had just been chosen as head of the Xeno-Cultural Bureau; he was the fourth person to have held this post since Piper Sandberg had defected to the enemy back in 2202.

Doctor Mattingly nodded towards the other two alien Ambassadors who were present to hear the report of the newly styled Countess Inge Gernan, the recently chosen Gamilon-Garuman Captain that Desslok had appointed as his new Ambassador as Gernan cleared her throat and said, “To sum it up, they tried to assassinate Desslok. After I was cleared, I aided in the suppression of the rebellion on Ashura, and Leader Desslok decided to appoint me as the new envoy and Ambassador to your world. It is a world which is, I must inform you, in grave peril.”

“What does this mean for the Rikashan Federation?” asked Baron Hagil Cha’rif. The young Baron was a nephew of the Lord Cha’rif himself, and the young warrior had considered it a great honor to be named the envoy to Earth.

“Desslok has learned that R’Khell is also involved; they have signed a treaty with Princess Invidia herself,” said Gernan.

“R’Khell,” hissed Cha’rif. “My uncle will see to it that we begin to break them, and soon.”

“I thank you, sir,” said President Mendellsohn.

Baron Cha’rif nodded.

“The enemy’s actions are devilry,” said Lt. General Hidalgo Camacho, who was still the chief of Logistics. “We’ve had another submarine attack just this week that has held up supplies that we needed at Neptune.”

Surgeon General Patricia Llewellyn added, “That other attack this week held up medicines that the Mars Colony needed. How am I supposed to maintain public health on the colonies if you people can’t ship me the medicines that WHO and the EDF medical officers need?”

“We’re trying,” said General Stone. “But these attackers are popping up faster than we can get patrol cruisers and destroyers out there to intercept them.”

“I suggest you appoint some new officers to run some additional squadrons,” snorted Dr. Llewellyn. “I’m an old ship’s surgeon myself. You can’t operate on people without supplies, and you can’t interdict raiders without aggressive skippers out there. When those rotations come up in January, appoint some younger people to run some squadrons and to fill in on other ones. Be creative.”

“What are you finding out on your end?” asked Singleton as he turned to General Franz Kohler, the Intelligence Chief.

“There are still Josiahites out there, unfortunately,” said Kohler. “The battle that Commodore Wildstar was in back in the summer…well…they wiped out their most dangerous terrorist cell, but I have word that they are recruiting others.”

“Who is behind this?” asked General Ryu Higashikuni, the new Military Attaché to the Senate Armed Services Committee.

“We have intelligence,” said Astra of Iscandar, the Ambassador to Earth, as she stood up. “The intelligence states that there seems to be a mind behind this madness and hatred. We just don’t know who that mind is…yet…”

“I propose that we create six new Patrol Cruiser squadrons and deploy them by January,” said Singleton. “We’ll have to pull ships out of reserve, and build others, but…”

“Seconded,” said General Stone.

The President and Prime Minister nodded. “You should vote now,” said the President. “Commander?”

Singleton stood and said, “For the motion?”

Stone raised his hand, followed by Llewellyn, Kohler, Higashikuni, Camacho, followed by Samuel Plessis, the new Minister of Communications, followed by Daniel Margolis, the Member of Parliament present who was the Assembly Attaché to the Armed Services Committee. After a moment, Chinmaya Rajiv, the Minister of Commerce, voted “yea”, followed by Minister Hugo Utrecht, who was the Minister of Emergency Preparations, Defense Minister Neil Ainsley (who had taken the place of the Undersecretary of the Defense Minister on the reorganized Council), Minister of Science Brian Paulson, Operations Chief General Staci Willis, General Muhammad of the Spaceship Design Bureau, Minister of Interstellar Trade Deena Banks. Finally, John Bander, the Minister for the Space Colonies, voted “yea”, followed by Karl Michaelman, who was the new Minister for Solar System Energy Transmission. The motion passed, 16-0. Singleton did not have to vote.

“Now,” said the Commander. “On to other business….”


TO BE CONTINUED....

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