From: Robotech_Master Organization: Team M.E.C.H.A. Secret Headquarters Subject: UF: The Universe According to Chris, Part I [FanFic] Newsgroups: rec.arts.anime.stories,rec.arts.prose,alt.prose Approved: megazone@wpi.wpi.edu PROLOGUE "There's a starman waiting in the sky; he'd like to come and visit us, but he thinks he'd blow our minds..." --David Bowie, "Starman" <<>> SEPTEMBER 18TH, 1993 (20 minutes into the future...) In orbit around the planet Earth, a space shuttle hung "upside-down," its dorsal side facing the planet. This shuttle strongly resembled those owned by NASA, save that it was a bit slimmer, a bit sleeker, and also had the GENOM corporate logo all over it. The bay doors slowly slid open, and something slowly deployed outward. It was not the mechanical arm that these shuttles also carried; rather, it resembled some kind of giant laser gun. In the flight deck of the shuttle, four gleaming metallic figures sat and worked the controls. Or, more correctly, they were PLUGGED INTO the controls, via organic-metal tendrils that extended from arms and chest. There was also a human on board, a young man in a lab coat, wearing a light communication headset with a dark visor and strapped into a seat at a console facing backward, into the bay. He was busily typing instructions into computer keyboards, and pressing buttons and adjusting slide controls. A mechanical-sounding voice rasped in his headset. It was the metallic figure at the pilot station. "Systems are go. Shuttle is stable. Stand by to energize." "Roger that," the technician replied. Part of the control panel slid open, and the tech placed a little metal block inside with a "G" stamped on it. The block slid away, the panel closed, and some lights that had not previously been on lit up. "Ready for activation," he said smoothly. "Request control interlock for automatic Buma targeting assist." "Confirmed," the Buma replied. More tendrils extended from all four of the Bumas and plugged into their respective control consoles. "Control interlock achieved...targeting..." On a screen in front of the technician, a glowing circle and other computer data junk appeared superimposed over part of the Nevada desert. It zoomed in to a small platform set up, with a few old BU-55 Bumas standing on it. "We have target lock." The human technician was half-grinning now. All those years at MIT and then GENOM's training facilities were about to pay off. If this worked, he was certain to be promoted. Perhaps he'd even get his own department! He reached out, snapped some more switches, raised a red safety cover, and placed his index finger on the redly-glowing button underneath it. "Ready for transmission." "You are go to start the countdown," the Buma rasped. "Authorization received and acknowledged," the technician replied, pressing the red button. There was a hum, and the tech felt the vibrations through the deck as the device powered up. He read the countdown off the screen, even though it wasn't necessary since the Bumas were receiving the data directly. "Ten...nine...eight..." His excitement rose as the numbers decreased. Lightning started to play around the glass cylinder that was the tip of the deployed device. Then something went wrong. The Buma copilot sparked, sizzled, and shorted out, electricity arcing between it and its console. Red lights started going on all over the tech's control board. "Abort! Abort!" he yelled, pressing buttons frantically. But the countdown continued, inexorably. And in the cargo bay, the raygun-like device shifted slightly, almost imperceptibly. 3...2...1...activation. The cannon tip glowed brilliantly, and then projected the lighting in a blue beam that lanced down, down, through the atmosphere, but not into Nevada. Instead, the focus of the beam was in Southwestern Missouri... THE UNIVERSE ACCORDING TO CHRIS PART 1 (Hey, it looks like a good title to me...doesn't it?) Starring: Chris/Mako Chris Meadows Joe Joe Moore Temper Katie Tanner GENOM Bumas in J. Random Slightly Space Shuttle Defective BU-55/c Bumas X-man J. Random Fighter Pilot Extra Eyeball Michael Rossen Planetfall Carl Ellin Zenith Larry Forbes Scalpel Janet Walker Retractor Jay Walker Expo Amy Nihuan Lord Fahrvergnugen Baron Lord Wolfgang Amadeus Fahrvergnugen Gryphon Ben Hutchins MegaZone Brian Bikowicz ReRob Robert Mandeville Kei Kei Morgan Yuri Yuri Daniels Deedlit Deedlit Satori PCHammer Martin F. Rose pfloyd Adam Johnson Cameos By: Aaron Aaron Meadows Alex Alex Meadows Macquivr, q John Todd Noriko Noriko Takaya Based on characters and situations created by MegaZone, Gryphon, ReRob, Reality, PCHammer, et al An Overworked, Underslept Student Production Special Effects by Academic Gloom and Mundanity, Inc. Music by Box of Tapes, Inc. Catering by Sack Lunches R Us Anything Else by Whoever Thought of it at the Time Original Mecha Designs by Chris Meadows, Dave Deitrich, and Friends DEDICATIONS: For my parents (of course). For all my friends, in both physical and virtual proximity For the whole gang from the Worst Place Imaginable, plus PCHammer, for the best anime fanfic epic EVER--you know the one I mean (ESPECIALLY for Gryphon, whom I drove crazy.) For Dave Deitrich and Jason Juta, my collaborators on the Robotech Post-Invid RPG supplement which is mentioned herein and may soon be available for anonymous FTP For Kei and Yuri, just because For Larry Niven, for the Kzin, and Origin Games, for the Kilrathi For Isaac and Janet Asimov, for Norby (You'll be missed, Isaac) For Gene Roddenberry, for obvious reasons (You too will be missed) For Rose Estes, for the Greyhawk Adventures trilogy that was the reason I didn't get any sleep at all last night For the fine folks at TSR, Palladium, R. Talsorian Games, West End Games, FASA, Steve Jackson Games, West End Games, and any other gaming company I might have left out For Carl Macek, because nobody else would And also... For Katie Tanner CHAPTER 1 "Transition...transmission..." --David Bowie, "TVC 15" "Hey, this IS good," Chris Meadows said, finishing the Mushroom and Swiss burger. Aaron and Alex Meadows, his 3-years-younger brothers, nodded. "And look here, with these points, I can get a free sheet of football cards. Whoop-de-do." Joe Moore, at 16 one year younger than Aaron and Alex, nodded. "'shrooms are great!" he said. "Well, I have to get back to work now..." He got up and walked back over behind the counter. Chris waved to him as he went. It was actually a pretty slow day in the McDonald's on East Battlefield, Springfield, Missouri. Chris, Aaron, and Alex were the only customers in it at the moment, and in fact, Joe was the only person in the back. Everyone else had gone on break and left Joe to watch the grill (not quite in keeping with regulations, but...) Chris yawned, and said, "I guess we'd better get going. Let's head on over to Aladdin's Castle and get some tokens." Aaron had just opened his mouth to agree to that, when everything went blue. As the beam completed its work, the technician tried frantically to correct the problem. He'd put out the electrical fire caused by the defective Buma with a nearby extinguisher, and was pounding commands into the keyboard to try and steady the ship so he could refire the beam and put back whatever it had dematerialized. If he could just undo the damage the beam had done before anybody noticed, he MIGHT be able to keep his head. But the copilot had been tied into the shuttle's maneuvering guidance system when it had shorted out, and now the shuttle was moving unpredictably. And the beam projector was still operating according to the preprogrammed sequence. So, just as one of the shuttle's maneuvering verniers fired, rolling the shuttle over and causing the cannon to face outward, the beam refired, sending a long stream of coherent energy somewhere out into the cosmos. Shortly after the beam had completed firing, the whole apparatus exploded in the cargo bay, cracking but not quite puncturing the glassite windows looking back into the bay. And the technician knew that Largo was not going to be happy about this... OCTOBER 27, 1993 (39 Days Later...) I must be unconscious. That was Chris's first thought. Then: But waitaminnit...if I'm unconscious, why did everything go BLUE instead of BLACK? That's NOT the way it works... It wasn't a bad blue, though. Kind of a pretty color, actually. Lotta fluctuations (looked like fractal designs, kinda like in SCORCHED EARTH 1.2) and stuff to keep it interesting. And then it faded away, and everything inside the McDonald's returned to normal. Sort of. "What WAS that?" Joe asked. "Sunstroke?" "You felt it too?" Chris asked. "Me, too," Aaron said. "That was weird." "I think that you'll find this is weirder yet," Alex said. "Look!" He was standing by the window, and pointing out. The others took a look. And goggled. "I don't think we're in Springfield anymore, Toto..." Chris said slowly. And indeed, they didn't seem to be. Instead of a parking lot and a busy street, the vista that met their eyes was of ancient-seeming structures, somehow graceful and advanced at the same time. They...radiated extreme age somehow. The style reminded Chris of ancient Greece or Rome...or perhaps Tirol? Off in the distance, there was a gleaming tower that went higher and higher into the golden sky until...until it vanished from sight. Closer were coloseum-like buildings, and perhaps theatres, and monuments...and other structures that looked like nothing Chris could remember. They all stood there in shock for perhaps ten minutes, wondering where they were, what had happened, had that blue beam had anything to do with it, if they would ever see home again, was anybody out there, what they would eat, was Elvis really dead, and other things. Then Joe realized, "Well, at least we won't have to worry about what to eat..." Chris looked, around him, chuckled, and then laughed. They all laughed, for it was true. They were in a MCDONALD'S, for Pete's sake. Though it might not be very palatable, at least they had food for the duration. They all stopped laughing when they realized they were becoming a bit hysterical, and tried to calm down. "I think the first thing we need to do is get some stuff together," Chris said, taking charge. "Food, and anything handy we can find around here. Maybe even weapons, if we have them." "All right," Aaron said. "I'll look around in the kitchen and Alex can check the janitor's closet. Joe can wrap up a few burgers, to go." Oddly enough, the electricity was still on, though they couldn't tell where it was coming from, so Joe didn't have any problems cooking the burgers, the fries, or whatever. After putting sixteen Big Macs in sacks, he put them in his school knapsack (leaving the notebooks and textbooks behind), and went to join Aaron in his kitchen search. Chris looked around under the counter for whatever he could find. After they all finished, Aaron walked back over to the table they'd been sitting at and picked up the camouflage shirt/jackets they'd gotten at army surplus stores, and picked up their web belts. With combat knife sheathes on them. "Hey, you brought those?" Chris asked. "Never without them." He grinned. The belts had pouches on them containing various "survival equipment"--compasses, first-aid stuff, and the like--that they'd bought from army surplus stores or ordered through the mail. And they had knife sheathes. Aaron's knife was a "USMC combat knife" (Chris wasn't sure whether or not it was the actual model the USMC used for combat, probably not since the handle was plastic, but it was styled after the K-BAR). Alex's was a 5 1/2" bladed Yugoslavian 440C Bratstvo-Ohrid survival/combat knife, with saw teeth across the back and a hollow, machine-milled handle (which currently had nothing in it). Alex also had a 5 1/2" double-edged boot knife, the kind with the wooden handle that is balanced for throwing. It had originally been Chris's, but Alex had permanently "borrowed" it. Aaron also had a machete, in a leather sheath he'd made himself that fit across his back. He grinned, strapped it on. Now, they were just about ready. Chris stopped them when he saw them dragging the can of kerosene out of the janitor's closet. "What is THAT for?" he asked. "Uh, removing bubble gum from tables?" Alex tried innocently. "We're exploring, not looking to start a war," Chris said. "Oh, all right," Alex said. "Darn it." He put the kerosene back, and pulled out a wooden-handled mop. He carefully unscrewed the head and tossed it aside. "There." He now held a staff in his hands. "Can I at least take this?" he asked. "All right," Chris decided. He guessed it would make them feel better. Even though they didn't have any real experience fighting with either knife or staff, they had spent a lot of time stick-fighting in the back yard when they were younger so they could probably do okay with the weapons. "But I don't want you getting violent if we meet anybody. For all we know, they could be friendly." They also found a butcher knife, which Joe took, and a meat cleaver for Chris. And a couple of flashlights in the closet. It wasn't much, but at least it was something. "Are we ready to go?" Joe asked, shouldering his backpack. "Yeah, sure," Chris decided. He shouldered his own pack, and they walked out through the doors. CHAPTER 2 "And you might find yourself in another part of the world..." --Talking Heads, "Once in a Lifetime" The foursome walked across the stone-cobbled square, out away from the McDonald's. Looking back, the Golden Arches really looked garish and out of place here in this land of smooth, sculptured stone arches. The place stuck out like a sore thumb. Alex had his compass out. "It seems to work...or, at least, it's pointing in one direction." "Okay, we'll call that north, then," Chris decided. "Come on, let's head this way." "Aren't we going to go into any of the buildings?" Joe asked. Chris shook his head. "I don't think so. There's no one around, but all the same, it feels like we're trespassing. What we want, I think, is that." He pointed at the tower that reached farther up into the sky than he could see. "I think we'll find the answer there." Alex started to open his mouth. "Don't ask me how I know, just trust me." Alex shrugged, and closed his mouth. <<>> So, they hiked. They didn't say much to each other during the hike--what was there to say? Aaron and Alex grumbled about having to wait for Chris, who was not a fast walker; Joe grumbled about the love of his life, his 1968 Dodge Dart, which had been left behind in the parking lot; and Chris just grumbled. But they were all looking ahead to the tower, which grew larger and larger as they approached, but continued to be quite far away. As they hiked, they saw not a single living soul. Or a dead soul. Or any soul, for that matter. (What the heck does a soul look like, anyway?) They did see lots of buildings, and aquaducts, and other architectural features, like fountains. Most of the fountains were still running, a tribute to the ingenuity of their designers, perhaps. Chris found it a trifle spooky, and took to looking over his shoulder a lot. Chris also snapped pictures. He had about 17 shots remaining on his roll, and there was another one in his pocket. He didn't miss Aaron and Alex's exchanged glances and screw-loose signs. He KNEW that there was probably no place to get them developed, but he preferred to think of it as a gesture of optimism. And habit--Chris was an unrepentant amateur shutterbug. The tower was a long way off...they hiked for hours to get there, stopping once to eat on the way. As they approached the tower, Chris gawked. He blinked. Then gawked again. "PLEASE tell me you don't see what I'm seeing right now. And PLEASE tell me that sign doesn't say what I think it does." The "tower" was wide at the base, narrowing as it got higher. A glass or glassite tube rose out of the top, stretching away into infinity. And there was a large rectangular sign on it that said KONICA. There were four widely open mouths at this point. At last, it was Joe who spoke first. "A beanpole elevator! Just like in Project EDEN!" "This is absolutely completely TOO WEIRD," Chris said, looking around as if he expected "Mystery Zone" to start playing at any second. "Okay, okay. We've died and gone to Japan. What next?" Aaron shrugged. "What indeed?" he said. "Might as well go up. Maybe there'll be some people there or something." So they walked on, into the tower. Chris had half-expected there to be guards or something at the base (and so had Aaron and Alex, who readied their knives), but there was no one. It was eerie. The elevator car was highly luxurious, featuring couches, table, balcony, panoramic windows, etc. "Wow!" Joe said. "This is just like--" "Don't say it," Chris said. "Just don't say it." Looking around, he managed to locate the controls. They were actually pretty simple--two triangular buttons, one pointing up, one down. There was also a viewscreen and some controls which Chris assumed to be for communication, but he left them alone for now and poised his finger over the UP button. <<>> "Get ready, everyone." Chris pressed it. For a moment, nothing happened. Then, with barely any sound at all, the room began to move upward, rising up, up, up. As the room got higher, they were treated to a panoramic view of the area, and could see that the city went on for miles and miles and miles. Chris didn't look very much, as he really, REALLY hated heights. But he did snap a few pictures, and he tried to spot where their McDonald's had landed. He thought he saw it. And there were a couple of airplanes in the air over it, fighter planes. They looked like...they looked like...oh no. He turned away as they started to slow down, because if they were what he thought they were, he definitely did NOT want to see it. He didn't think he could handle this yet. They got higher and higher (not from chemicals, but over the planet), and the sky darkened and the world began to curve underneath them. They could see the continents, landmasses. Whatever this planet was, it was NOT Earth (as if they needed a clue, duh). Chris nervously looked around, keeping an eye out for any orange and white starships with red crosses on them or cute yellow space shuttles. To his relief, none seemed to be in any danger of showing up. "Hey, look!" Joe pointed up. Chris looked, and swore. It was a space station encircling the planet, just as in EDEN. But wait...it wasn't like Project EDEN's station. Where EDEN's had been a neat, smooth curve encircling the globe, this one was more rough, a mass of girders stretching out across the sky. Chris sighed in relief. Something DIFFERENT. "I think it's going to be a while until we get there," Joe said. "Chris, do you still have that deck of cards with you?" "Huh? Oh, yeah." Chris always carried at least one deck of cards with him. Nothing like a game of Klondike solitaire to beat boredom. He actually collected decks of cards when he could...they were all different, and he liked the feel of them. So the four of them played Pitch (Chris and Joe against Aaron and Alex; Chris and Joe won) for a while. Then Chris noticed that they weren't all that far away now and put the cards up. They approached closer and closer, and Chris got a crick in his neck from looking up at the thing as it drew nearer. At last they passed among several girders, then more and more flashed by. And then, finally, the elevator docked. "Okay," Chris said. "Great. We're here. Okay, I guess we're not living Project EDEN after all. We didn't run into--" And then the elevator door slid open, and there were two figures in the doorway, wearing really black CVR-3 female armor with red hearts on the shoulders and carrying electromag pistols. The helmets were off, and their faces were plainly visible as they stepped out of the shadows of the corridor and into the light. One had short red hair, one had long black. They wore triangular earrings. Behind them were about six other people carring pistols or rifles. Chris swallowed hard and finished his statement in a small voice. "Kei and Yuri?" CHAPTER 3 "I'm on a spaceship full of college students." --Martin Rose Kei spoke. "Don't move. Drop your weapons." Her gun muzzle swept back and forth, indicating that she meant business. Chris laid the meat cleaver on the floor and stepped back from it. "Sure, sure. You won't get any trouble from us." Joe did likewise. Aaron and Alex gently put their knives and machete on the floor, Alex with a sullen, "We'd better get these back." As a couple of the other troopers collected the knives and staff, Kei asked, "Who are you? Where did you come from?" "I'm Chris Meadows, these are my brothers Aaron and Alex, and this is my friend Joe Moore," Chris said, pointing, careful not to make any sudden moves since the muzzle of the gun was still pointing right at him. "And believe it or not, we came from McDonald's." "What?!" "It's true!" Joe reaffirmed. "We were in a McDonald's, when suddenly everything went blue, and the whole McDonald's was transported down there. We walked to the elevator, and here we are." Kei and Yuri traded glances, then looked back. "He IS wearing a McDonald's uniform," Yuri pointed out. "It could be a trick by GENOM," Kei insisted. "They could be Bumas." "GENOM? Bumas?" Chris asked, not liking it all that much when people talked about him as if he wasn't there. He HAD heard something about a GENOM corporation back on Earth, but had dismissed it largely as a practical joke by anime fans. "We are NOT Bumas," Joe said. "If you have medical personnel around here, we will gladly submit to a full examination. Surely with all this advanced tech, you have scanners that can conclusively tell human from Buma?" "And I saw some, um, fighters flying around near where our McDonald's arrived," Chris added. "Surely that ought to be proof enough for you?" "That's a good idea," Yuri said. "Come with us, please. If you are who you say you are, Lord Fahrvergnugen will want to talk with you. In fact, he will probably want to talk to you anyway." Kei watched the foursome nervously as they walked, sizing them up in her mind. They didn't LOOK dangerous--but then, it was always the harmless-looking ones, wasn't it? The one who called himself Chris Meadows looked about 20, was 6'2" tall and had short dark hair, hazel eyes behind UV-sensitive, plastic-framed prescription eyeglasses, and major five o'clock shadow (had this guy not heard of a razor or something?). He was wearing a Palladium Books 10th-year anniversary T-shirt with the Kevin Long illustration on the front, and also blue jeans, and there was a 35mm camera around his neck. Nothing fancy, just the kind of thing you could get for $40 at Wal-Mart. Aaron and Alex, apparently his younger brothers, had blond hair and blue eyes, and were an inch or so taller than he was. They were half-identical twins, which meant they would probably be difficult to tell apart if you didn't know them. Alex currently had a scraggly mustache and beard, though. They wore blue jeans and T-shirts too. Joe Moore was around the same height, with brown hair, and he also wore glasses. He currently had on the uniform that McDonald's makes its cash-register clerks wear, cap and all. Kei shook her head. She sure got the odd ones, didn't she? They were taken to an impressive sickbay, where a woman named Jenna gave them all a thorough examination and pronounced them all completely human. "Thanks, Doctor," Chris said. "All my life, I've wondered what Aaron and Alex were..." Whereupon Aaron and Alex promptly hit him. Next, they were brought to a large conference room, and seated around a long table. Kei and Yuri excused themselves and left, leaving two other armored guards outside the door. "They still don't trust us yet," Chris remarked. Aaron opened his mouth to make some sort of wisecrack, but he paused, comment forgotten, mouth still open, as the man swept into the room. Three other mouths joined Aaron's in this state of openness. He looked eight feet tall if he was an inch, and he had the build to match. He had flowing red hair, mustache, and beard, and wore gleaming black armor with a black cape attached, and a huge sword in a crossdraw position on his right side. Hey, he must be left-handed just like I am, Chris thought. He strode up to the table and took his seat at its head. He spoke. "I am Baron Lord Wolfgang Amadeus Fahrvergnugen," he said in a deep, booming voice that went with his huge stature. "I am told that you have...just arrived?" Since the others were still in a state of awe, Chris decided he'd better answer. "It is an, er, honor to meet you, Baron Fahrvergnugen," he said. "Yes, that's right, sir, we just got here...wherever here is. We were on Earth, and--" "Yes, I was briefed as you underwent your examinations. So, now that you are here, what do you wish to do?" "We, um, have a few questions, Your Lordship," Joe Moore spoke up. Lord Fahrvergnugen laughed. "Indeed I would think so! Ask your questions, and I will answer them if I am able." The four of them looked at each other, not knowing where to start. Finally, Chris spoke up. "Sir...where is this? And how did we get here?" "Ah, no one has told you?" At their nods, Lord Fahrvergnugen stood, strode to the end of the conference room, where he did something that made metal panels slide away to reveal outer space, and a network of girders and things. "Then welcome! Welcome to Utopia Planitia Shipyards!" Joe blinked. "Isn't that where the ENTERPRISE--?" Chris cut him off. "You build starships here?" Fahrvergnugen nodded, moving back to the table. "The best. This is where the SDF-17 WAYWARD SON was fabricated." At the blank looks on their faces, he added, "Ah, I forgot that you would not have heard of it." "Do you have any idea how we got here?" Chris asked. Lord Fahrvergnugen shook his head. "I am afraid not. However, our sensors did detect some sort of unusual subspace energy pulse at what was probably your time of arrival. We will determine the cause sooner or later, never fear." Alex wondered, "Is there any way we can get back home? We were supposed to be back by five. And how far away FROM home are we?" Fahrvergnugen shook his head and looked down. "As for how far, I am afraid that the answer is light years. Weeks of travel at warp speeds. In fact, if you were transmitted here by that subspace pulse as we suspect, you may have been gone from Earth for six weeks already." "Oh, great," Chris muttered. "Mom and Dad are going to kill me." "They may think you are already dead," Lord Fahrvergnugen said. It was a sobering thought. "Um, uh, sir?" Aaron asked. "Why are Kei and Yuri, um, alive? I thought they were cartoon characters." The Baron smiled. "Ah, the question I was waiting for. Yes, I shall explain how they came to be, and about the birth of the Wedge Defense Force itself. After that, you shall have the opportunity to join. I hope you shall--bright young people such as yourselves are always welcome in the WDF." They sat back in their chairs, relaxed, and listened to Lord Fahrvergnugen's tale of the foundations and formation of the WDF, and its battles to date. After the tale was done, Lord Fahrvergnugen asked one last time, "Now, are there any more questions?" There was a minute of confused silence in which the four new arrivals met each others' gazes nervously. At last, seeing that no one else was going to speak, Chris held up his 35mm camera. "Is there anywhere I can get this film developed?" <<>> Dawn the next day found Chris sitting in an observation deck he'd somehow found, staring out and watching the sun (Cygnus Beta) rise over the edge of the planet. In other circumstances, Chris would have found this to be a very beautiful scene. Right now, though, he was somewhat depressed. From what he'd been told last night, there was not much chance of him seeing Earth again. At least, not in the conceivable future. This should have depressed him, but it didn't, which was why he was depressed. (Funny, huh?) Didn't he love his parents? Didn't he want to see them again? Didn't he want to finish college, to see all his friends? Well, yes, some...but he also wanted to get his hands on the mecha, live the adventure. Was that more important? Chris thought about this for a long time. More important? No. More accessible? Yes. Going home just wasn't likely to happen, no matter how homesick he got about it, so there was just no use in pining for it. Chris had wanted to go into the armed forces back on Earth, but he had known that he couldn't. He was an utter and absolute wimp, no WAY could he stand the physical training. And the Air Force wouldn't let him fly with his vision problems. But here, Omega-2 reorganized your body and mind, made it possible for you to get stronger faster. Here were VERITECHS, something anyone would give his right arm to fly (though how one would fly a Veritech without a right arm is anybody's guess). Here was the kind of adventure he'd written stories in college hoping to find. He was going to do it. "I'll do it!" he said aloud, smacking his right palm with his left fist. "I'll join up right away." "Glad to hear it." Chris jumped. The voice came from behind him, from the big guy dressed mostly in black, with the SR-71 Blackbird shirt on. "Uh, hello," Chris said, holding out his hand. The man took it. "I'm MegaZone," he said. "I haven't seen you around." "Oh, I'm new here. My name's Chris Meadows. Lord Fahrvergnugen told me all about you." "Ah, then he told me about you, too," Zoner said. "So you plan to join up, then?" Chris nodded. "I like Robotech, I like anime, I like mecha in general, yeah. I think I'd like to learn how to put 'em together. I've never been very mechanically-inclined, actually, but I figure it's about time I learned. And with Omega-2, I'll have all the time in the world to pick up the skills, right?" Zoner grinned. "Yeah. So, let's talk about your qualifications..." Chris met Joe, Aaron, and Alex for lunch, resplendant in the new Cadet's uniform he'd been issued. He noticed that they were wearing similar uniforms. "So, you guys signed up too, eh?" Joe nodded. "Beats hanging around doing nothing." "And we'll get to fly Veritechs!" Aaron added. Alex nodded. "I'm going to become a Valk pilot. And who knows, there may even be a place for me in the Hammers." Chris chuckled, holding up the last page of the WDF Handbook he'd just printed out. "Well, good luck. Fifty kilometers in twenty hours, geez, whoa." Alex shrugged. "Okay, so I'll have to build up my endurance. Big deal. I have my whole life ahead of me." He grinned. "You only get five tries..." "Then I'll just have to do my best every time, won't I?" "I don't know just what I'll do yet," Aaron said. "There are a lot of choices open to me." "Hey, Chris, what do YOU plan to do?" Joe asked. "I'm going into mecha design and construction," Chris said. "Oh, I'll qualify to pilot everything first, but then I plan to find out what makes them tick, and make a few myself. Maybe the VR-hundreds Dave Deitrich and I designed." "Cool," Joe said. "I'm going to become a doctor--the WDF can always use medics. And I want a Cyclone, too. And maybe I'll go into psychic research after I get my doctorate." "Yeah, that sounds about like you, Joe." Joe threw his fork at Chris. CHAPTER 4 "Gonna take it right into the Danger Zone..." --Kenny Loggins, "Danger Zone" Chris got through "spasic training" all right, picked up some martial arts and weapons skills, and then went on to officer candidacy school (because of his high scores on the exams, he qualified instantly) and mecha qualification. He saw Aaron, Alex, and Joe frequently during basic training, less so during mecha qualification, and not much at all after that. Chris qualified in every Veritech and non-transformable aerospace fighter in current service with the WDF. He was nothing special, nowhere near being the next Gryphon or MegaZone, but his abilities were "adequate" (in the words of one of his instructors). Although he was sometimes berated for wasting ammunition. Even though he was now a graduate of military training, Chris was still the same person--just a little more refined. He was still a frenetic reader, often walking down the halls with a book or handcomp in his hands, not watching where he was going. He was something of an introvert, but he did try to get out and meet new people (whose names he usually did not remember at all). Everyone was assigned to different ships. Chris was fortunate enough to be assigned to the Salusian AVC-07 TIGER'S CLAW, a new spacecraft carrier just off the assembly lines and ready for experimental testing. The first of a new class, the ship was crewed by a joint human-Salusian crew as part of a WDF-Royal Salusian Navy exchange program. There were a few obvious differences from the WING COMMANDER game, of course. The most obvious being that this ship was not a Bengal class vessel but a "Tiger's Claw"-class, instead. It still greatly resembled the Bengal-class TIGER'S CLAW, with the forward landing bay, the two outrigger gun emplacements, the whole deal. But it was actually slightly smaller than the given stats for the original CLAW, and half of the crew had fur and/or extra ears. The name had originally been something Salusian and unpronounceable which translated (roughly) to "Mighty Galactic Vessel Commissioned and Empowered to Carry Numerous Space Attack Fighters, Destined to Remove the Claw of the Kilrathi Tiger, to Destroy It and Prevent It From Bringing Harm To Salusia or its Allies Ever Again." (Actually, "Tiger" isn't the literal translation; it's really a feline Salusian beast somewhat similar to a tiger.) Understandably, the human crew immediately shortened the name to the TIGER'S CLAW, and Queen Asrial found this human simplification of the name so novel that she decreed it to be the new official name of the ship, and of the class itself. Chris had hoped for Veritech duty, but for the shakedown cruise, they put Chris in the Hornet light fighters, flying wing with Spirit, and he later moved up to the Scimitar, with Iceman. After Chris made First Lieutenant on board the CLAW, though, he was transferred to planetside duty on a small, remote planet called Trinalt, to his perpetual annoyance (he wasn't annoyed that the planet was called Trinalt; he was annoyed at being stationed there). The Trinalt planetary government had requested WDF assistance, so they stationed a few "advisors" on the planet. He'd just gotten used to flying space missions, and now they were sticking him in a do-nothing squadron on some out-of-the-way dirtball? And when Chris saw the fighters he would be flying, he nearly lost his temper. Z-95 Headhunters, where in the hell did they dig up THOSE antiques?! The WDF didn't even USE them! And to make matters worse, half of them didn't even have functional combat computers. The Incom/Subpro Z-95 Headhunter starfighter rather resembled a Terran F-14, except that it was a one-man bird and its armament consisted of two linked triple blasters in the wings, and concussion missiles. It also mounted light deflector shields and engines capable of driving it into space. And it was at least a hundred years out of date. To add insult to injury, they put him in command of a squadron of them, with green pilots who probably hadn't flown anything more complicated than an airspeeder in their entire lives. It was here that, out of necessity, Chris learned his first few lessons in rewiring fightercraft flight computers. And in the realities of command. The first six months were given Chris on a platter--all he had to do was make his fighters work, fly patrols, and get his squadron into shape. That was the EASY part (although he didn't think so at the time). Six months into the planetside duty, Chris was leading his eight-man squadron on a training flight. They were patrolling over the ocean, a high-atmosphere flight at 140,000 feet. Then Chris's radar display began lighting up. "What in the heck...?" "Planetfall to Mako, Planetfall to Mako." Mako was the handle Chris was currently using. It had been the name of a character he'd written about in alt.pub.havens-rest back on Earth, and also the handle he'd played WING COMMANDER under. Planetfall was Chris's XO, a native 2nd Lieutenant, the leader of the other four-man flight in his squadron. "I'm reading some blips, reentry, 30 nautical miles, 167 degrees from present heading. Transat control says no reentries are planned for this sector at this time." "Planetfall, I'm reading the same blips, confirm speed and number." "Reading barely subsonic, approximately four. Wait...they've disappeared." They vanished from Chris's screen at the same time. "All right, let's check them out. Attention Zebra Flight. Come around to 167 degrees relative. Activate shields, weapons off safe. This is not a drill. Arm all weapons." He was being a little paranoid, Chris thought, but what the hell? If it was a problem, great. If it was just a false alarm, so much the better, his men would still be better for the experience. Chris looked on in satisfaction as, almost as one, the seven other shield, gun, and missile indicator lights on his squadron command board lit up, almost as one. The FIRST time he'd tried that drill, lights came on haphazardly, some went off, others came on, and finally one of the fighters' flight computers apparently couldn't take the strain and jettisoned the pilot in mid-flight. Fortunately, they HAD improved since then... The two sections formed up in standard cruise formation, two diamonds, side by side, the left diamond (Chris's) slightly forward. Chris engaged the private commline to one of his men. "Eyeball, engage your sensors. See if you can get a look ahead at what it is, if anything. Probably just some civilian cycroders out for a joyhop." Eyeball was their recon specialist, largely due to necessity. He'd been the last to sign up, and by some error, his assigned fighter happened to be a Z-95RC recon fighter. Its armament was limited to blasters, but it mounted an advanced sensor pod that enabled it to look far ahead of the average units. Chris estimated that the RC had the most advanced avionics "to be found on this whole damn planet. No offense." "None taken." It was probably meant for some forward ob squadron, but a bookkeeping error had assigned it to his squad. (Personally, he thought the Z-95 ITSELF was a bookkeeping error, but...) "I'm locking in on something," Eyeball reported a few seconds later. "Seems to have some kind of stealth system." "Can you get an ID?" "Negative...the image is too fuzzy." In the cockpit of another of the fighters, a helmeted pilot grimaced, and whammed his control panel with the heel of his hand. The screen lost vertical hold for a second or two, then cleared. "Okay, I think I've got something. They're some kind of fighter...three two-man elements." "Roger. Give me a course-correct..." "Seven degrees starboard, twelve degrees down." "Roger. Attention Zebra flight. Correct course seven degrees starboard, twelve degrees down. Shields double front, I repeat, shields DOUBLE FRONT. Arm targeting and stand by to fire." The targeting system began to lock in on something, far ahead. And then warning tones sounded. "Oh, shit! Break and evade, break and evade!" A flurry of laser and neutron fire ripped through the squadron. "My shield's overloaded, I can't--AAAAAAAAAUGH!!!!!!!" X-man's Headhunter went up in a ball of fire. "Shit on a stick!" Chris muttered. "Jalthi! Six of 'em!" In a split-second, Chris reviewed what he knew about the Jalthi. Armed with three neutron cannons, three lasers, two friend-or-foes, one heat-seeker. Pretty slow, sluggish maneuverability, fairly light armor, especially on the backside. The problem was getting to it. "Zebra-flight, break into two-man elements. Zenith, stick with me and Eyeball." Zenith had been X-man's wingman. "Now listen to me." He dodged more laser blasts. "These guys are built for space combat, but we're the better aerofighters. So we lead 'em down and into the goo, and lock horns with them there." As he spoke, Chris was leading by example, ducking, dodging, and diving, switching his shields to double-rear as he plunged. 100,000 feet...80,000 feet...60,000...The others followed suit, and evaded, Chris was pleased to see, with every trick Chris had tried to teach them. They'd gotten better, and he'd learned a few tricks from them himself. "Now listen to me, and listen good. Our shields are inferior, our weapons not quite as good as what they've got. The trick is to take them from behind. Don't even try to go head-to-head with them, it's suicide. Just don't let 'em hit you, and try every trick in the book to get behind them. Now let's turn and burn, and remember to stick with your wingman!" Above them, the Jalthi were splitting up and diving in. Four were coming at them; the others were breaking. "Smart, cats, verrry smart. Keep us occupied while those two get to the objective." He tagged Eyeball's line. "Can you get a message through to transat command? On any channel?" The Z-95RC had the best commo gear in the squadron, too, and it was customary to use Eyeball's ship for a relay. "Negative, boss, they're throwing out some heavy jamming." "Damn. Eyeball, Zenith, I want you to go take those guys. Whatever their mission is, it can't be good." "But sir, that'll leave you without a wingman!" Zenith protested. "I can handle myself, Corporal. The mission is more important. Go get them." "Roger and out." Privately, Chris was a little doubtful about his ability to take the Kilrathi. The odds were a little more even now, but they were still outnumbered, four fighters to five. Oh, well. Chris punched in the HUD, set the swingwings for maximum mobility, and went to work. <<>> Fortunately, the lessons Chris had learned on board the TIGER'S CLAW came back easily, and he soon found himself staring into the two huge jet exhausts, sort of like twin bullseyes, on one of the Jalthi. Now he hammered away at it with blasterfire. His scanners showed its shields going down. It kicked in the afterburners and began to pull away, but Chris did likewise, keeping it in his sights and holding the trigger down. The shields collapsed. Chris closed to 1500 meters (damn this metric-system aircraft...) as his hud indicated a missile lock. Of course, concussion missiles were little more than glorified dumbfires--odds were you wouldn't hit your target if it was smaller than a freighter. But Chris was feeling lucky today, what the hell. He punched the fire key and let 'er go. The missile streaked forward, forward...right up the Jalthi's left exhaust. KERBLAMMO! Chris dodged the explosion, and then dodged something else. One of the Jalthi's friend-or-foe missiles, looked like. And it was on his tail. Damn. Bloody friggin damn. That thing wouldn't let up until it had him. And the Illudium warhead would seriously damage his fighter, even with double shields on. Chris reached over to the comm board. "Lessee if I can't confuse this thing. I know what the recognition signal is, I just need the frequency...There, that's the standard one they taught in flight training..." All this with his left hand as his right moved the stick around, ducking and dodging. "Shit! Still not taking the bait...wait a minute, I just remembered an alternate frequency...There." The missile suddenly veered off, and Chris got it with his blasters before it could hit any of his men. By now, two more Jalthi had gone down, but so had one Headhunter. They were down to four now--Chris, Planetfall, and two others. Planetfall was currently without a wingmate, so Chris slid into the slot. Chris got on the commline and instructed the other element to go on the offensive--take out the single fighter while he and Planetfall aced the remaining two-fighter element. They could do it, he knew...he and Planetfall were the better pilots. "Planetfall, you draw them out...I'll shut 'em down." "That's a roger, Mako. I'm on him." As Planetfall played "bait," Chris got in behind the first one and sent concussion missiles up his tailpipe. Most missed, but one got through and knocked his shields down, setting Chris up to plink away at it with the triple blasters until it atomized into O-rings. But then he caught a neutron blast from its wingmate. "I will feast upon your offspring!" came a feline growl over his headset. Fortunately, it was only a glancing blow, but it overloaded his shields in a shower of sparks. Smoke filled the cockpit. Chris turned on the ventilation and it was gone seconds later. But during those seconds, Chris didn't know where his enemy was, and he could only jink blindly, hoping he wasn't a promising target. "I've got no shields, Planetfall," Chris announced. "Let's wrap this up ASAP." "Crossfire?" "Yep." "I like the way you think, boss. Let's do it." Chris threw his fighter into a barrel roll as more laser blasts shot from behind him. He feinted left, then did a quick Immelman to shake the enemy off his tail. Then, coming around, his and Planetfall's blasters caught the Kilrathi in a crossfire. Caught between two opposing forces, the Kilrathi's shields vanished, its components went to red on the schematic, it started smoking, and finally blew. "All right! All units, form up, right echelon formation. Kick in full burners and keep 'em there, lock wings to rearward position for supersonic travel. Come around onto heading 87 degrees relative." The four remaining fighters blasted southeast, on afterburner trails half as long as they were. "Sir, are you sure this is wise?" Planetfall asked. "I mean, the engines--" "To hell with the engines," Chris said. "We have to catch up to Eyeball and Zenith--" Then, speak of the devil, the communicator beeped and it was them. "Eyeball to Mako. Zenith and I downed the two Jalthi. Zenith's fighter was destroyed, but he ejected in time." "Great!" Chris replied. "But I thought the Kilrathi empire was broken. What the hell are they doing on this planet?" "I couldn't say about the Kilrathi as a whole, sir, but as for those Jalthi, they were on a course that would have led them right into the capital city." "If they'd taken out the capital, this whole planet would be ripe for invasion," Chris thought aloud. "Yessir," Eyeball replied. "It is a lonely little planet, true, way out on the edge of nowhere...but it is a convenient jumping-off point for an invasion into civilized space." "You've got that right." Chris slowed his flight down to normal speeds, and punched up an air-to-ground commline. A few seconds later, he told the squadron, "Zebra flight, we will divert to Frenharkis Air-Space Defense Base, eighty miles to the southwest. We'll talk further after landing. Mako out." CHAPTER 5 "We can be heroes...just for one day." --David Bowie, "'Heroes'" The first thing Chris did after getting back was punch for a subspace commline straight to the WAYWARD SON, under full emergency authorization. "Trinalt Military to WAYWARD SON, do you read?" The screen blanked, fuzzed, cleared, and then the ONE MOMENT PLEASE... logo flashed. After a few seconds, it cleared, and a man in WDF uniform behind a console appeared. "Like, WAYWARD SON here, Trinalt Military. Like, what is the nature of this call?" Chris saluted. "Lieutenant Chris Meadows, Wedge Defense Force, on assignment to Trinalt. Is Captain MegaZone there?" The view shifted to encompass the whole WAYWARD SON bridge; MegaZone was there in the command chair. "This is MegaZone," 'Zoner said. "Go ahead, Chris." "Sir, my Headhunter squadron just engaged and took down six Jalthi in the upper atmosphere." "Pirates using salvaged mecha?" Zoner postulated. "Nosir. At least one of them was piloted by a genuine Kilrathi, voiceprint analysis from my flight recorder reveals that." "But that planet's way out in the middle of nowhere? Why would they want it? And don't call me sir." Gryphon, at his console at MegaZone's right hand, suggested, "Maybe because, since it's in the MIDDLE, they could use it as a staging base to attack the planets on this side." MegaZone nodded. "I see your point. All right. We'll execute a fold jump and be there within the hour to make sure the Kilrathi don't get the Trinalt system. q, tell ReRob to get ready to fold." "Like, you got it." Macquivr pressed some keys on his console. Zoner directed his attention back to Chris. "Now, you say you took down six Jalthi with Z-95s?" "Yessi--I mean, yes, Zoner." MegaZone gave a low whistle. "Wow, what were your losses?" "Out of eight, three down, one man dead." "Too bad about the dead one. Okay, we'll be there soon. Oh, and one more thing. Once we do get there, I want to talk to you, you AND your men, that is. I think we might just find a place for a squadron that could do what yours just did." When word got out about his squadron's "heroic defense of Trinalt from Kilrathi hordes," Chris Meadows and his men were the heroes of the day. There were long speeches, tickertape parades, all that sort of thing. There was also a promotion for all his men, and for him, too (from the WDF). He was now a Captain, rank O-3. Chris grimaced; he hated being paraded through the streets like some kind of idol, he ESPECIALLY hated being bored through five continuous hours of long-winded speakers. Even the WDF Silver Star award for bravery in the face of of overwhelming opposition was just some new tinsel for his uniform, as far as he was concerned. But Chris's little talk with Zoner had made it all worthwhile... Chris had called the squadron together a couple of hours after returning from the communication center, and they'd met in a borrowed ready room for what Chris described as a very important meeting. On the right (Chris's left) was Michael "Eyeball" Rossen, a tall young man with hair halfway between brown and blonde, and brown eyes. Next to him was Carl "Planetfall" Ellin, dark-skinned, dark-haired, with eyes of such a deep brown that they almost looked completely black. And that wide grin of his that he'd been wearing ever since getting onto this ship. Next to them was Janet "Scalpel" Walker, the small, dark-haired girl who could barely see out the cockpit of her fighter over the dashboard but was a pretty good pilot all the same. Accurate with weapons fire, too, hence her callsign. Sitting close to Scalpel, with his right arm around her, was her husband and wingmate, Jay "Retractor" Walker. (Yes, his callsign was a little joke between himself and his wife.) He was about six feet tall, the same as Chris, with blonde hair and hazel eyes. Retractor was the other pilot who'd been shot down by Jalthi, but he'd managed to eject before his fighter exploded. He was taking a lot of ribbing for it, especially from Scalpel, but he was pretty good-natured about it. He'd survived being shot down; he could afford to be. The other two pilots were Larry "Zenith" Forbes, 6'6", with red hair, olive eyes, pale complexion, and a love for flying somewhat similar to Rick Hunter's; and Amy "Expo" Nihuan, 5'3", with brown hair, piercing grey eyes, and a very good figure. Chris had often wondered why these pilots from an alien planet would look quite human, and have very human names. Maybe Lord Fahrvergnugen knew something about it. He would have to ask him sometime. They were all sitting around, waiting for Chris to explain. "What's going on, Chris?" asked Zenith. Chris's wristcomm beeped softly, and he glanced at the message being printed on the display in LCD letters. "You should find out any minute now..." Chris remarked, noting the standard Wedge designation for Megazone's Daytona from Hell and the code for landing accomplished. "I'll be right back, guys," Chris said. "Don't go anywhere." Chris ran out onto the airbase landing strip, finding a group of puzzled noncoms clustered around the strange vehicle that had just landed. "It's all right, guys, I'll take it from here." "Sir." They saluted and left, as Zoner climbed out of the Daytona from Hell in his CVR armor. "Hello, Mako," Zoner said. "You did a great job up there." "The credit really belongs to my men, not me," Chris said. "They're the ones who deserve all the glory." He thought of X-man, blown away before he even had a chance to see what hit him, and his vision clouded for a moment. Zoner could tell from the look in Chris's eyes what he was thinking of. "I know, it's really rough to lose a man," he said, his own eyes misting over. He was undoubtedly recalling their first battle, over Neo-Worcester, in which Fritz had sacrificed himself to save the WAYWARD SON from the devastating power of Sol. "But you're good, there's no doubting that." Chris shook his head. "I'm just an 'adequate' pilot, remember? I'll never be as good as you--or as good as Gryphon, for that matter, sir." "Chris, two things," MegaZone said. "First of all, don't try to flatter me, it won't work." He grinned. "And the second is don't call me sir, or Captain, or salute, or anything like that. I run a pretty informal ship--the only time I'm superior to you is when I give an order." "All right, uh, Zoner." Chris relaxed in his seat. Zoner nodded. "All right. Here's the deal. I want you, all eigh--er, seven of you. We'll give you a month to retrain, and you can select an eighth man from the reserves on board, or from the planet if you like. We'll be stationing some Salusian Rapier squadrons planetside, on permanent loan, so you don't need to worry about the planet suffering from your loss. What do you say?" "I'd have to say...you got it!" They shook hands, and Chris was grinning like a maniac. Actually Maniac did grin quite a bit like that, Chris recalled from the TIGER'S CLAW. Together, Chris and MegaZone returned to the borrowed ready room, to break the news to his men. Their first reaction was disbelief. Then came the cheering. "I can't believe it--we're actually getting to join the legendary WDF!" Zenith said. "Us, who fly Z-95s! Now we're going to get to fly some REAL machines!" So, Chris and his men moved aboard the WAYWARD SON. The Trinalt government was quite upset--here they just HAD these heroes, and now the WDF was taking them away. But the assignment of the Rapier squadrons seemed to calm them down a little. The other members of Zebra Flight were still quite excited; after all, they'd heard stories about the Wedge Defense Force, legends, but now they were JOINING it. It was enough to shock even the most gregarious member of Zebra Flight into silence, which is why there was hardly any conversation on the shuttle that was taking them up. "Hey, look guys!" Chris pointed out the window. "There she is." Eyeball eyeballed it. "Wow. What a beauty..." Chris nodded. "That's the WAYWARD SON." "No, I was talking about that fighter flying escort." He pointed at the plane, a sleek, trim Super Valkyrie Veritech Fighter cruising alongside the shuttle. "Looks kinda like one of our Headhunters on steroids." Chris grinned. "Enjoy the view," he said. "We're going to be flying fighters much like that one." "Wow!" And then Eyeball was nearly trampled by the rest of the squadron trying to see just what kind of fighter Chris was talking about. There was a lot more silence after that, until they reached the ship. CHAPTER 6 "[insert quote here]" --[insert source here] While his pilots were busy gawking at the fighters, Chris did a bit of gawking of his own at the SDF-17 WAYWARD SON. Wow. Wow, wow, and WOW! This was the first time he'd ever actually seen the ship. Oh, yeah, sure, he'd seen holos, read about it, even seen some parts of its plans and schematics in the design and engineering textbooks he read whenever he got the chance. But none of it compared to seeing the actual ship. It was...it was a piece of history, and a work of art. Once the shuttle landed, minor functionaries showed up and told Chris and the rest of Zebra Flight where their quarters were. Chris didn't care about that; there was one place that he just had to see... A few moments later, he emerged onto the turbolift to find a small lounge-like room with some booths with tables, and a couple of computer terminals and some snack machines. Someone more cynical might have dismissed this room as just another lounge, but Chris knew about its history. This was the Wedge, originally a building on a small college campus in Worcester, Massachusetts and now all that remained of that campus and indeed that town. It was, Chris knew, capable of functioning as a starship in its own right, and once, he had heard, it had actually transformed into a robot, if that could be believed... "Hello, Captain." Chris turned. It was a woman, blonde, about 5' 9". She was wearing a WDF pilot's uniform--leather jacket with RDF insignia, unit flashes, etc.; loose pants with a transparent pocket on the thigh for a map (the map pocket was actually a holdover for WDF antiquarians, since Veritech flight computers were normally used for map display); beat-up running shoes. "Uh, hi, uh, Lieutenant." She wore the insignia of the WDF space-defense Veritech wing. "You're a pilot?" She nodded. "Valks. Ya gotta love 'em. Oh, my name's Katie Tanner, callsign Temper." "Chris Meadows, Mako. Nice to meet you, Temper." Chris gestured toward a booth. "Shall we sit down?" "Don't see why not. Hey, wait a minute." She ran over to the snack machines. "What's your pleasure?" Chris reached for his wallet. "Hey, hold on, I'm buying--" "Oh no, mister. I was here first." She pulled out her own WDF ID card and slotted it into one of the machines (Lord F's men had modified them to interconnect to the onboard computer that kept track of WedgeRat financial accounts). "Now what'll it be?" Chris acquiesced, resolving that he would spring for the food next time. "Get me a cup of cappuccino, and, oh...one of those red and yellow rectangular cherry pastries, whatever they're called." "Got your pastry...but we don't have a cappuccino machine." Chris sighed. "Oh, great...Okay, I'll settle for a Dew, or an A&W Root Beer if they're out of that." "Coming up." Katie made her own purchases, then got a tray from somewhere and carried the assorted comestibles over to their table. "So," she said, sitting down. "What do you think?" Chris popped the tab on the Dew. "I think it's going to be great serving on board this ship." He took a long pull at the drink. "Aaah. You know, this is the first time I've had Earth-type snacks since I left basic training? For the last six months, I've been stationed on Trinalt, and they don't even make good COFFEE there." He made a face. "Oooh, poor man," Katie said sarcastically, sipping at a Crystal Pepsi. "All the trials and tribulations you've had to go through..." "Hey, don't laugh--it was hard, especially when the highest-tech fighter on the entire planet is the Z-95 Headhunter." "You're kidding." Katie accused. "I read about those in a historical aviation magazine. They fly like--" "Oh, they fly okay," Chris said. "But then, so do some Terran World War II fighters. Now, I think the P-38J Lightning is the coolest fighter they ever made--but I don't think I'd want to take one up against, say, a Jalthi..." "Is that what you did?" Katie asked. "Took out Jalthi with Z-95s?" "It was either that or the planetary government went pif. We lost one of our men, though, and three of our fighters." "That must have been hard on you--losing a man." The sarcasm was absent this time. Chris nodded, taking another pull at his Dew and opening the pastry. "It's never happened to me before--I mean, that was my first command. I didn't even lose a wingman on the TIGER'S CLAW. Not even Maniac, and that's saying a LOT! But this..." "How do you feel about it?" Chris shook his head. "Awful. I keep thinking that it was my fault, that I screwed up and X-man got it because of me. Dammit, I should never have engaged. We didn't even know what those blips were, but we went to check them out. I told them, shields double front, and they did, but the Jalthi blast went right through X-man before any of us knew what we were facing. He never knew what hit him. Dammit, it IS my fault. We should just have reported it in and went on our way." "Yeah, and then blame yourself for the rest of your life after those Jalthi took out the government," another voice said. Chris looked up, and gasped. He'd never met the man personally, but he'd seen enough pictures to recognize the short, heavyset man with the ponytail and glasses. "Gryphon!" Gryphon nodded, and stopped to stand at the side of the table for a moment. "Don't start blaming yourself over what happened, it just leads to angst. Zoner does that from time to time, annoys the hell out of the rest of us. We all get enough of that anyway from things we CAN change without having to worry about what we can't." "I'll keep that in mind." Chris barely stopped himself from adding "sir" to the end of that statement. He also barely kept his self-control. What was it about superior officers that made him lose his cool like that? Perhaps it was the feeling that he wasn't supposed to be here, that he really didn't belong... Shut up, he told his inner voice of doubt. You're here now, and Zoner himself has told you that he wants you on his ship. Besides, this is just the kind of thing that Gryphon just told you NOT to worry about. Chris looked up from his internal dialogue to notice Gryphon was now exchanging pleasantries with Lieutenant Tanner. "So, have you found another Valkyrie squadron that will take you?" Katie shook her head. "The reorganization's left me without a home. I'd rather not fall back on reserve status, but then again, I'd much rather fly a Valk than have to sign with a Legios squadron." Gryphon nodded. "I understand the feeling. Say, wait a minute..." He turned to Chris. "Mako, is it? You're the leader of that new squadron...Aren't you heading up a Valkyrie flight? And aren't you short one pilot?" "Hey, yeah, that's right," Chris said. And then, "Ah, I see where you're coming from. Yeah...I think that I could probably use another Lieutenant in my squad. Especially one with, what...four years of Valkyrie experience?" Katie nodded. "I can handle a Valkyrie of any type at any time. I can fly anything from a Legios to a Logan, actually, but the Valks are my one true passion." "All right, it's settled," Gryphon said, pulling out a memo pad and making a note. "I'll get the paperwork done for the transfer, and set it up." "I feel I should warn you, I feel it is my responsibility to try out all new recruits to the squadron personally, both in simulator combat and as a wingmate," Chris said. "However, since I only flew Valks during orientation, and that was a year and a half ago, I think we'll let the simulations slide for now." "Hmm, might just be that I'LL have to retrain YOU..." Katie countered." They both grinned, as did Gryphon. "I can see I'm interrupting, so I'll just move on. I've got to meet Kei in, what, five minutes now?" He checked his watch. "Yep." "Hey, when you see her, tell her one of the guys from the McDonald's says hi, okay?" Gryphon looked a little puzzled, but said, "All right, I'll tell her." He walked out of the room, still looking a little curious. "What was that about?" Katie wondered. "Oh. Well, you know how all the animals went onto Noah's Ark in pairs, except the worms, which went in apples?" Katie groaned. "Augh, not puns! I get enough of that from Hammer!" "Well, it seems that most of the WedgeRats went to Utopia Planitia in the Wedge. But I went in a McDonald's." "?!?" said Katie. "Is this some kind of obscure joke?" "No, seriously...listen..." Chris went into the tale of his arrival at UP, somewhat embellished, with appropriate hand gestures to match. "...And then the elevator doors opened and there they were, pointing their guns right at us..." Chris made a partial fist with thumb and forefinger extended in the traditional "pistol" gesture and pointed at Katie for emphasis. "I think they thought we were Bumas or something." He went on and described their eventual meeting with Wolfgang, and how he'd joined up with the WDF, and then his previous postings. Katie Tanner listened patiently, and after Chris was finished, said, "That is the craziest story I've ever heard. The McDonald's part, I mean. Either that story's true, or you're the best damn liar I've ever seen." "Well, I'm a really lousy liar," Chris said. "Oh, REALLY?" They sat there talking for several hours. Chris didn't know why, but it seemed like something had clicked between himself and Katie. It suprised Chris, and disturbed him a little--he wasn't accustomed to making friends that fast. But on the other hand, he certainly didn't mind having friends--he'd had so many acquaintances and so few true friends back on Earth that the opportunity to have friends here was something he wanted to take advantage of to the fullest. Valkyrie retraining was fun. None of Chris's pilots except Katie knew what the Valk could do, especially where modular transformation was concerned. It took a lot of training to get them accustomed to operating Battroids, but once they did, the payoff was worth it. Of course, now Chris had to drill them in 8-man infantry tactics, but that was just another part of the fun. Katie Tanner was a big help in this area. Cyclone training was also a blast. Chris dearly loved the Cyc-bike, and insisted that all members of his squadron be fully proficient in its use. Though they were at first a little doubtful about getting in armor and climbing on motorcycles (most of them had never SEEN, much less ridden motorcycles before), once the mecha transformed around them, they were hooked. During this time, Chris got the opportunity to work with ReRob on designing a sensor upgrade for the Valkyrie, designed to utilize several new detection components R&D had come up with. These same new compoments were later to be used in the prototypes of the TR-580 handheld scanning devices, which would eventually become standard-issue for WDF Science teams. It was Chris's first experiment in mecha engineering. He learned a lot through the attempt, and through the help ReRob provided in designing and constructing the system. After it went through testing, Zebra Flight became the first squadron to use this system, which was soon adopted for all Veritechs of the WDF. One day, while Chris was in the middle of training his men, a familiar figure walked into the launch bay where they were practicing Battroid maneuvering. "Hey, guys, take five," Chris said, zooming the camera in on this new arrival. "There's someone here I need to talk to." Chris collapsed his Veritech from Battroid to Gerwalk, and hopped out of the cockpit, the nose now angled downward nearly to the ground. "Hey, Joe!" Joe Moore grinned. "Chris, hi! I'd heard you were on board, and I came down to see how you were doing." "Hey, let me look at you!" Chris grinned. "Hey, you're in a Wedge Medical uniform..." Joe nodded. "Yep. Medical Cadet, actually. I'm still studying. It'll just be a couple more years until I get my doctorate." "But we've only been here for about a year, and you hadn't even finished high school back on Earth," Chris pointed out. "I know, isn't it great? That Omega-2 stuff reorganized my mind, made me smarter or something. I can learn better. Anyway, I've been studying at the medical institutions of several different planets. I'm currently taking a Wedge course in cellular microbiology, and then it's on to Utopia Planitia for some more study there." Chris shook his head. "Good to see that you're keeping busy. Me, I'm being KEPT busy. But hey--I want to show you something. Come with me." Joe shrugged. "Why not? I've got the time." He followed Chris to a turbolift, and Chris rode it down to one of the other launchbays. As the car came to a stop and the doors opened, Chris told Joe, "I'm going to show you something that I thought I would never, ever see." "What's that?" And then Joe stepped out, and came face to face with ReRob's Kilroy the Thundergod in all its, ahem, glory. It left him speechless for a few moments. "Something even uglier than your '68 Dodge Dart. Barely," Chris said. "I never thought I'd see the day..." Joe swung around. "Chris, I'm going to KILL you!" CHAPTER 7 "Life is full of a number of things." --Blurb from MACROSCOPE by Piers Anthony For the next two years, Zebra Flight flew standard Valkyrie fighters, and did so with a pretty good record. Chris became known around the ship by his callsign, Mako. At first he protested--if he were going to have a nickname, Mako was not the one he would probably have chosen. It was just something he'd come up with on the spur of the moment when making up nicknames for a story he was writing, then used later on in WING COMMANDER. But then Chris figured that Mako was probably as good a name as any other he could have come up with anyway and just said the hell with it. While Chris was still a mediocre pilot by himself, he seemed to fly better with a team for some reason. They covered his inadequacies and enabled him to fly better. Which isn't to say that he hung back and let the others do all the work. It was just that he synchronized his maneuvers with the rest of his men so that they all benefited from it. During the time Chris was stationed on the WAYWARD SON, he began to pick up the mecha maintenance techniques that he'd been hoping to learn. He certainly didn't plan on staying in the WDF's flight wing forever. Katie found Chris sitting in the observation deck staring out the window. He'd been there more and more over the last couple of days, as the WAYWARD SON made its way toward Utopia Planitia for a minor refit to its sensors. Katie sat down beside Chris. "What's wrong?" she asked. "Huh? Oh, nothing, nothing..." "Don't give me that line of bull, I've served with you AND been your friend for two years, I can tell when something's wrong." "Do you have a family back on Earth?" Chris asked, continuing to stare out the window. Katie shook her head. "Orphan, didn't I tell you? Guess not." Seeing this was apparently what bothered Chris, she asked, "You have a family?" "Parents," Chris said. "My brothers are WDF." He sighed. "I haven't seen home in three years. They probably think I'm dead." Chris reached into a cooler under the seat, brought out a Budweiser. "Want one?" "This is no time to get morbid," Katie replied. "Or drunk either, for that matter. We've just been assigned a new mission; here's the briefing data." She held up a floptical disk. Chris dropped the beer back in the cooler. "You're right. Beer doesn't really taste all that great anyway. I suppose my parents can wait until later..." The job was simple--some Kilrathi privateers were holed up in the star system, but the WDF didn't know exactly where. They'd been raiding the entire sector, and were a definite annoyance to the Wedge Defense Force. Zebra Flight's job was to scout the asteroid belt and pinpoint the Kilrathi base, and then ReRob and Co.'s Kilroy would come through and take it out. For this mission, Zebra Flight was temporarily assigned Super Valkyries. Chris had been hoping for the Hyper model, but there weren't very many of those around, so he made do with what he could get. For this assignment, Katie Tanner was flying as Chris's wingmate. They launched together from the PROMETHEUS and headed into the belt. Just for the hell of it, they practiced precision flying, maintaining inverted positions relative to each other, only ten feet apart. "This kind of precision flying is possible ONLY through the new Robotechnology," he quoted over the radio, and they both broke up laughing. But it wasn't until Chris pulled out his Polaroid that they REALLY cracked up (laughing, that is, not running into some solid object). As they approached the asteroid belt, the radar grid began to light up. "Looks like we've got some company...probably Salthi from the size of 'em." "Shall we take 'em?" Temper asked on his starboard comscreen. "I dunno...you think?" Chris thumbed his weapons systems to "ONLINE," but then thought better of it. "I always ignored these guys in the game when my mission was more important. Just kick in the burners, and you'll leave 'em in your dust." "Yeah, I suppose..." "Come on, let's get to Nav Point 2 and do some recon." He made a course correction to keep them out of range of the Kilrathis' radar, and punched the dorsally-mounted boosters. "Hey, you, wait for me!" It was just their luck that THEY happened upon the base instead of the other members of their squadron. They were flying through the asteroid field on afterburners, following Chris's motto: "250 kps is for wimps." But Chris nearly did crash into an asteroid when he couldn't stop laughing after Katie said in a particularly Lisa Hayes-esque voice, "Look around you, hotshot, you're the only one out there flying dangerously!" And then, suddenly, there it was. A great big round Kilrathi satellite base, like the one at the end of the WING COMMANDER game. "Whoa, there it is...Temper, see if you can get a commline through to ReRob. We have the coordinates." "I'm getting heavy jamming, and can't get a laser line through because of all the rocks in the way," Katie responded. "And--uh-oh. Reading six bogeys, big ones." Chris's target computer brought up a lock. "LOCKED TARGET--GRATHA," it read. Katie got the same lock. "No problem, these guys are wusses." She engaged burner, and zoomed in. "Katie, no!" But it was too late. Temper tended to be somewhat impulsive at times, and now she released clouds of medium-range missiles from her booster launch pods, to strike at oncoming Gratha. Then she rolled hard right and came around in a split-S to rake GU-11 fire across another one. But two more of them came in from behind her and started pummelling her with laser cannons and mass drivers. "Son of a BITCH!" she yelled, as some of her fighter systems began to overheat. Chris was already on his way. "Dammit, Temper, how am I supposed to keep a full squadron if you keep rushing into things trying to get killed!" He got positive locks on three Gratha and dispatched some medrange rockets to make life hard for them. With a Super Valk, hosement was easy--in fact, it came standard in the armament. As they scorched the last of the Gratha, the radar sounded an alert--more of them on their way, launching from the station. "Temper, we aren't staying around for this. We've got the coordinates, let's get out of here." "Roger, Mako." She sounded properly chastened--or maybe she was just satisfied with the death-and-destruction she and he had wrought upon those six Gratha. Regardless of the reason, they both punched full burners and rocketed away. Once they broke clear of the asteroid belt, Chris was able to open a laser commo link to Kilroy, which was orbiting nearby. "Mako to ReRob, Mako to ReRob. We have the coordinates, and are relaying them now." "This is ReRob. Roger on those coordinates, we're on our way. See you back at the ship." "I read you, ReRob. Later. Mako out." He watched the Kludge from Hell pass by overhead, and then returned with Katie Tanner to the ship. It wasn't long after this that Chris was promoted to Major, and his squad was upgraded to Super Veritechs. They flew a couple of missions against renegade Kilrathi fighters, but nothing of any urgency. Chris was really proud of his Super Valkyrie, especially when he learned that it was permanently assigned to him. That meant he could customize it! At last, a fighter of his own... Now, as any good fighter jock knows, a plane has to have a name, whether it's as simple as "Eight-ball One" or more abstract, like the ENOLA GAY. Chris's plane was known as Zebra One, but that wasn't enough. As far as Chris was concerned, there could be only one name worthy of his fighter. He'd used this name for a starship in alt.pub.havens-rest, but there was nothing wrong with using it again here. Named after his favorite song by TMBG, Chris's fighter became the CONSTELLATION. One of the most important (to Chris's mind) customizations he made to the ship was the addition of a floptical disk reader to the underside of the instrument panel, and quadrophonic plasma speakers at strategic points around the cockpit. Flopticals were great. They had an immense storage capacity, so much that one could keep his entire music collection on one disk and still have room left over for a library of thousands of hardcover and paperback books. And Chris kept his library with him wherever he went. After all, if he was going to listen to a little music to help him relax before combat, or catch up on his reading during a particularly boring 5-hour patrol, who was to know? Or care? Of course, he needed PCHammer's help to make the system work; the floptical-to-Veritech connection required an interface program for reading the data from the disk. As it happened, PCHammer was more than happy to whip one up for Chris. And so it went... CHAPTER 8 "Homeward bound...I wish I was homeward bound." --Simon and Garfunkel, "Homeward Bound" <<>> It was a month or so later. The SON was preparing to fold to Utopia Planitia, and Chris was once again in the observation lounge staring at the stars. The whole universe was there, spread out before him, and it made him feel small. Would he ever go back home? Would his parents still be there when he did? What would they say? What did they think? To them, he was probably dead. Perhaps he should stay that way...not go home, not face his parents, let himself remain dead. They had probably gotten used to the loss after all, and to see him again would only be a further shock. Besides, he had no way to GET there. Katie walked in. "Thinking about your family again?" "Yeah...Dammit, I know they're out there, I just want to see them again." Katie shook her head. "No, you don't. Oh, yeah, you think it would be great to see them again, to go home again. But your home is HERE now, and you've just got to accept it." Chris shook his head. "No...no, it's not that _I_ want to see THEM again--it's that THEY probably want to see ME. They're probably worried sick about my brothers and me, and have been worrying ever since that McDonald's vanished with us in it." He shook his head. "There were these three girls who vanished from the town where I live a few years ago. By the time I vanished, it was two years later, and they still hadn't turned up. Their mother was going on TV, begging, pleading with anyone who knew anything about the disappearance to come forward. So far as I know, no one did. I really hate to think of my mother like that. Dammit, if I could just get a message through, tell her I'm all right..." Katie looked at her feet. "I know how you feel..." "How CAN you? You don't even HAVE parents?" Chris snapped, and was instantly sorry for it. "No, but I have friends." Katie got up and left the lounge. "Hey, Katie--wait..." Chris ran after her, caught her shoulder. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean...I didn't think about--" She turned, and half-smiled. "Apology accepted. I'm the one who should apologize--I thought that--" Chris nodded. "I know. Look, just come on back to the lounge and let's sit through the fold together." Katie grinned. "All right. It does help to have a hand to hold onto through the distortions." The SDF-17 was now safely in her drydock, and the technicians swarmed like maddened ants over her hull and through her corridors, patching the multitude of micrometeoroid dents, replacing circuitry, and generally being everywhere. Most of those on board the SON moved into the temporary quarters made available on the Utopia Planitia station, to be out of the way of the workers. Chris was no exception. For the next two months, he was on shore leave, and he intended to make the most of it. There had been quite a few changes to Utopia Planitia in the days since Chris had last been here. One of these, Chris discovered, was that the same McDonald's in which Joe, Chris, Aaron, and Alex had arrived on the surface of Planitia had been transplanted up to the shipyards, much the same way castles and bridges have been known to be transplanted from Europe to America (though the McDonald's was transplanted without disassembling it first) and now resided in one of the "malls" (the park-like areas with grass, blue sky, and buildings that were designed to simulate being on a planet). Chris ate at the McDonald's once in a while out of nostalgia (if they ever started giving free refills on their drinks he'd eat there more often). He saw other WedgeRats eating there, too, but not many. Mostly it was technicians. He guessed it was because they hadn't ever been to Earth to eat at Burger King and know what fast-food hamburgers were SUPPOSED to be like. But all the same, sometimes he and Katie stopped in at the same time as PCHammer and Noriko, and all four of them got together and talked. Chris and PCHammer seemed to have similar tastes--for example, they both seemed to enjoy the same kind of music, and they both possessed slightly odd senses of humor. Also, they were both conservatives (though Chris's father had been much more conservative than Chris was). Another thing they had in common was that they had both arrived at Planitia in unorthodox fashions. PCHammer (aka Martin Rose) had accidentally stowed away aboard the SDF-17 as it was repairing damage after devastating Neo-Worcester. It was from PCHammer that Chris learned about a way to resolve the pesky problem that had been plaguing him for the last few months. They had just finished their Big Macs and were trying to resolve the problem of who would pay. Every time they met, each of them tried to pick up the other's tab. Chris idly wondered how they would settle the question this time. Last time they'd had a riddling contest which had started as a Tolkienian challenge but ended in an outrageous pun-off which soon had everyone in the restaurant collectively laughing and/or groaning. Chris was considering suggesting that the fairest way would be for each person to pay what the other bought. Maybe that would be a suitable compromise. But Martin surprised him by saying instead, "Did you hear about pfloyd?" "No, what about him?" pfloyd was one of the original WedgeRats, and the commander of the ultra-elite Hammers (which Alex had been hoping to join after having enlisted). "He's going back to Earth." "What?!" "It's true, I heard it from MegaZone himself. He's going to be leaving in a few days, and they're throwing a party for him." "Wow..." To go back to Earth...that was what he'd wanted to do for SO LONG... "How's he managing that?" "He got Lord F to have his men fix up a starship for him. The CRAZY DIAMOND, I think it's called. He can't take anyone with him, but he has offered to pick up a few things for people. I asked him to get me the the lastest CDs by TMBG and Weird Al." "I want copies," Chris said. "Okay." "Hey...do you think he could do something for me?" Chris asked. "As long as it's not something too big," PCHammer replied. "Wow..." Chris was lost in thought for the rest of the evening--he even let PCHammer pay the tab without noticing it. A few days later, Chris walked toward the shipyards, pausing to tab one of the computer comm panels and ask, "Computer, locate pfloyd." "Major Adam Johnson is on board the WDF CRAZY DIAMOND," the computer replied calmly. "Can you patch me through?" "Working..." BEEP. A male voice with a British accent spoke. However, only Holly's balding, middle aged face appeard, his lips unmoving, as if it was only a photo still. "Emergency. Emergency. There's an emergency going on. Still going on. No, just kidding. This is Holly speaking. I'm afraid no one on board is available to take your call at the moment. Please leave your name and a message after the beep." Chris opened his mouth, but no words came out. He closed it again. "Uh, hi, Holly. Um, could you tell him that I called? I'm Mako, that is--Major Meadows. Uh--" He stopped, before he got any more tongue-tied. "Oh, um--I just want pfloyd to do something for me when he goes to Earth. Nothing fancy or anything, I just want him to drop off a pack--" Chris broke off, for someone had just appeared in the hall next to him. The man who just appeared was dressed rather casually... a white kekogi jacket and dark navy blue hakama covered his body. The shoulders of the kekogi were tied back. Held in the obi around his waist was a standard Hammers issue monokatana; in his left hand, held as if it was a live blade in a scabbard, was a rock maple bokken. The man moved with grace and fluidity, qualities gained from a long life of training. He wore no rank insignia, no standard uniform. His hair was tied back into a tail, and his trademark silver feather earring was not present. Chris recognized him, of course--he'd even met him a few times, though he was just an acquaintance. It was pfloyd. "Hel--hello. Wow." "Hi, Major. You said you wanted me to drop off something?" "Huh? Oh, yes. Here it is." Chris pulled out a small mailer, with stamps Lord Fahrvergnugen's techs had fabricated for him and an address on it. "If it's not too much trouble, when you get to Earth I'd appreciate it if you'd drop this in a convenient mailbox for me." pfloyd took it, glanced at the address, looked back up at Chris. "To your parents?" "Yes." Chris sighed. "I really miss them." pfloyd stared off into infinity for a moment, then said, "I have someone on Earth I really miss, too. That's part of why I'm going back, in fact." He was silent for another moment and said, "How would you like a tour of my ship?" "Wow, would I?" "Just a moment." He took out a small headset, unfolded it and put it on. "Holly, bodyslide two to the bridge, please." Chris had just enough time to understand what this meant, and then he was there. After Chris recovered from the transport, he looked around and gasped in awe. pfloyd grinned at Chris's discomfiture, and then started showing him all around the ship. Holodecks, launch bays, etc. "What were you doing when you showed up, pf?" Chris asked. "Just...training. Been slacking off in swordwork and Aikido...thought it could come in handy when I went back." Chris nodded. He had heard that pfloyd had been immersing much of his free time into developing his skills in three martial arts: Aikido, Hwarang Do and a peculiar Japanese sword style, Musashi Ryu. After the tour was complete, Chris said, "This is amazing. You sure have a nice setup here. It's a little unfair, you know." "What is?" "You're a major and you have this handy little ship, plus command of an elite fifty-man unit. I'm a major, but what do I have? Just eight Super Valkyrie fighters." "Well, Super Valkyries are nothing to sneer at," pfloyd said. "But if you're dissatisfied with just the eight, why don't you request that more pilots be assigned to you?" Chris thought about that, then shook his head. "No...it was a rhetorical remark, really. I don't actually WANT command of a huge squadron like that. In a few years, I'm planning to go into design and engineering, and I don't need the inertia of a great big squad holding me back." "Ah, I understand. Well, thanks for stopping by. Any particular spot on UP you want to be returned to?" "How about the Planitia McDonald's?" "Okay. Holly?" "Right. One to slide..." Chris was suddenly Not There, and was just as suddenly in the McDonald's, where he stepped up to the counter and ordered breakfast from a surprised cashier. At the sendoff party, Chris was one of only a few people who didn't get blotto (another was, of course, Vaughn). Chris really didn't feel like drinking all that much--beer didn't taste all that good to him at the time. He drank perhaps half a beer before saying the hell with it and grabbing a creme soda instead. He and Vaughn worked as a team, conveniently arranging to be behind and to either side of each person who was about to pass out, catching said person, and getting said person safely to his or her quarters. Chris didn't know how Vaughn could tell exactly which people were in danger of hitting the floor in time to be beside them exactly the second they collapsed, but he did seem to have a knack for it. They made a great team, but there was only one problem--Chris's drinks kept disappearing. "Vaughn?" "Yes?" "Would you please pay attention to my creme sodas? It's annoying when they vanish like that." "Oh, sorry. I'll try to keep it in mind." And so went the night. CHAPTER 9 "Hello Mudder...Hello Fodder...Greetings from Camp...Hiawatha" --(who sang this song and what was it called?) The next day, pfloyd's ship left the launch bay, not to return for two years according to its pilot/commander. Chris watched it go, not a little envious. To spend two years back on Earth...with friends and family. Two years. As pfloyd left, Chris thought that maybe he should have asked pfloyd to hand-deliver it (after all, it wouldn't be too much trouble to get to southwest Missouri with that bodyslider thing). And that way his parents could have written an answer. But Chris knew that pfloyd had better things to do than be his messenger boy. Besides, Chris could imagine that his parents wouldn't be too coherent after they watched the tape. Chris was glad he'd thought of a videotape. His parents would be relieved to know that their progeny were still alive (and would stay alive for a long, long time), even if they might never see each other again, and it would do them good to see him alive, moving, and talking. It hadn't been too hard for the technicians to patch together a VHS deck to transfer the laserdisc recording to, and then get it all set up for mailing. When his parents played the tape, they would see him, in his quarters, wearing his WDF flight suit and Major's badge proudly. He would smile at the camera, and then begin to speak. "Hi, Mom, hi Dad. Surprise." He paused, clasped his hands together. "I guess that's the understatement of the century. Trust me, this letter is not a prank and it is not a hoax. It's really me. I'm not under any duress whatsoever, and I'm happy here. I heard that a friend of mine would be heading back to Earth, and so I'm making this video letter." Pause. "I'm really sorry I couldn't get in touch with you sooner. If I had my way, I would have gotten in touch the instant I arrived here, to let you know I was all right. Aaron and Alex, too. But I just couldn't. "Let me start at the beginning. We were in McDonald's, with Joe, and then..." He ran through the story, and described what he'd done with himself. "So I've been a fighter pilot the last year or so. I finally got transferred to the WAYWARD SON, and was able to get back here. Aaron, Alex, and Joe are all right, too, by the way...they aren't here right now, but I'm appending the video letters I last received from them, later on. "You'll be relieved to know that I don't plan on being a fighter pilot the rest of my life. Come to think of it, I'm going to have a rather long life, so I'm probably going to be quite a few things during it. I plan to become a design engineer in the next few decades, and who knows what, after that?" Chris talked for a while, then went on about shipboard life and the WDF as a whole. He appended training films, combat footage, segments from recruitment tapes, and anything he could think of to fill six hours. He did a capsule history of the WDF, including the TRUE story about what had happened in Worcester and Neo-Worcester (with appropriate camera footage). He appended letters from Aaron, Alex, and Joe, telling what they'd been up to, and finally ended the letter standing in full dress uniform, the various medals and decorations he'd won standing out proudly on his chest. "Goodbye, Mom, Dad. I'm really sorry that I can't come back...that I'll probably never see you again..." His voice broke, and a tear came unbidden to the corner of one of his eyes. "I'll try to get another letter to you, somehow, but I may not be able to...I love you, and I know you love me too." He turned away, then turned back and snapped a stiff salute. "Goodbye." "Hey, you look like you could use some cheering up." PCHammer stopped next to the bench Chris was sitting on in the WAYWARD SON observation deck, and sat down next to him, unbidden. Chris didn't say anything, and they both sat there in silence for a while. Then Martin said, "Come on, it can't be that bad. You look like your dog just died." "Oh, just thinking of home, and the people I left behind..." PCHammer nodded. "I come here to do that sometimes, myself." He looked out into space. "You know, this is a very special spot for me." "Yeah?" "It's where I was when the SDF-17 took off from Neo-Worcester. One of the Air Force's missiles hit right on the glass. Scared the living daylights out of me. I had to go around for days without any living daylights in me, you know how hard that is on a person?" Chris had to chuckle in spite of himself. "That must have been startling." "Oh, yeah." Chris sighed. "Well, look. I know what'll cheer you up," PCHammer suggested. "The Clay Pigeons are performing tonight, and you're invited. Here, here's a backstage pass." Chris took it. "I don't know...I think I should be a little suspicious of a ticket that's written in crayon..." "Hey, it'll do you good," PCHammer said. "Look, here's one for Temper, too." "Okay, I'll come." "Good. We'll be expecting you--and I'll send Noriko after you if you don't come." He grinned, and Chris winced. He'd once made the mistake, in combat practice, of thinking her a pushover because of her small size. It was an error which she corrected with consummate ease, and now ribbed Chris about quite frequently. The "backstage ticket," it turned out, was actually an "onstage ticket." Chris and Katie were included in the show. At first Chris groaned, but it was hard to remain in a funk after Katie hit him in the face with a lemon merengue pie. "Those crazy guys..." Chris said after showering. "If that's what all their shows are like, remind me to wear old clothes next time." Katie snickered. "That was fun, though. We have to go to more of them." CHAPTER 10 "So long, saddle pals, it's been so good to see you...Farewell, saddle pals, we really hate to leave you..." --Riders in the Sky, from the song they always sing at the end of their National Public Radio radio show The WAYWARD SON was soon finished with her refitting, and moved away from Utopia Planitia under full steam. Chris Meadows and Katie Tanner went back to work with Zebra Flight. Ten happy years passed, with Chris leading Zebra Flight to victory time and time again. Though far from elite, they did maintain a pretty good record of wins vs. defeats, and also a good ammo-expended-to-kill ratio. Zebra Flight had no NCOs by now--they were an all-brass squadron, and many of its pilots were qualified to lead their own flight groups. Even though Chris didn't want to expand, he didn't want to hold back the careers of those under his command. And he figured it was about time he moved on, anyway. Engineering school at Utopia Planitia was calling to him. So, citing his own wish to retire from cockpit duty for a while and go on to Bigger and Better Things, Chris officially dissolved Zebra Flight, and recommended to MegaZone that each of those pilots who had served under him be assigned to command of his own squadron. He announced that he would be returning to Planitia to study design and engineering there. Chris offered now-Captain Katie Tanner the chance to form a new Zebra Flight, using the name and unit insignia (on an upside-down black triangle, in white, a Valkyrie cockpit, from the right side, with an anthropomorphic zebra at the controls), but she declined. So the honor passed to Planetfall, who promised to do a good job of it, to "make Mako proud." On the day Chris was to leave, Katie met him at the docking bay. He was returning to Planitia in style--after the ten years and change of sterling service he'd rendered to the SDF-17, Kei and Yuri themselves were going to drop him off at UP. Well, actually they'd been going that way anyway on the way to Meizuri, but Chris preferred to flatter himself. Katie handed him his duffle bag, and then, to his surprise, hugged him and kissed him on the cheek. "What was that for?" he asked. "It's funny, the things a person does," Katie said. "You want to do something, but you keep putting it off, and putting it off, thinking that you'll get around to it later." "Huh?" Chris was really lost now. "Dammit, we've been friends for ten years," Katie said, the temper which was the source of her callsign flaring up slightly. "I wanted us to be more than that, but neither of us ever made the moves. And now it's too late." "It's never too late," Chris said to prevent an awkward silence, hugging her back. "You'll just have to wait a little bit longer, that's all." "I can't wait forever," Katie said. "Dammit, why did I wait so long to begin with?" "Hey, Mako!" Kei shouted from the LOVELY ANGEL's boarding ramp. "Hurry up, we're ready to go." "Just a minute!" Chris replied. "I'll be right there!" Katie continued holding onto him, not wanting to let him go. "Hey, Katie," Chris said. "I really have to go." He gently unclasped her arms from around him. "Look, it's not the end of the world..." To Chris's surprise and embarrassment, Katie started sobbing softly. "I--I'll be waiting for you." "Hey, could you please hurry?" Kei called. "We're holding up the other launches!" Chris began to feel like he was living in a Big Red chewing gum commercial. "Okay, I'm coming!" Chris grabbed his duffel bag, said one last goodbye to Katie, and ran for the launch ramp. Standing at the top, he looked out, and saw Katie waving to him, until the rising ramp blocked out the view. Then he found something to hold onto in a hurry as the LOVELY ANGEL blasted away at maximum impulse. The trip to Planitia was uneventful, and boringly so. He did take fifty credits off of Kei in pennyante poker (yes, he still carried a deck of playing cards with him), but you can't play poker all the time. He started to compose a letter to Katie, but deleted the file after he'd put down only a few words. Who'd have thought it, all this time she was in love with him and he hadn't even noticed? At last the ship dropped out of warp, and docked with Utopia Planitia. Kei and Yuri dropped him off, they said their goodbyes, and the LOVELY ANGEL raced on to Meizuri. The WWWA was busy these days, even more so than the WDF. Chris stood and watched them go, watched the bright flash of their warpdrive engaging, and then stood there for a few minutes after they were gone. It was only when he heard someone clearing his throat behind him that Chris turned, to see Lord Fahrvergnugen waiting for him. "Oh, hello," Chris said. "You have arrived," Lord Fahrvergnugen proclaimed. "Are you looking forward to commencing your studies?" Chris nodded. "Very much," he said. "I'd like to get right to work as soon as possible." "Very well," Lord Fahrvergnugen replied. "Come with me, I will show you to your quarters." Chris shrugged. "Sure thing." And Lord Fahrvergnugen swept out of the room, with Chris following close behind. Thus began four years of intensive study, experimental design, and fellowship with other bright engineering students from all across the quadrant. Chris studied mecha and starship construction and engineering. Mecha layout, engine design and maintenance, weapons adjustment, electronics, the works. He learned fast, and hardly even noticed the passing time. Chris wrote to Katie often, and she wrote back, and he got some letters from some of the other former members of his squadron about how things were going, too. Katie had actually become a member of the prestigious Eight-Ball squadron! Eyeball was now in charge of a Valkyrie recon squadron, and the new Zebra Flight under Planetfall was also doing well. They'd gotten upgraded Super Valk fighters, now, and were even occasionally using Hyper Valkyries (well, they had used them ONCE, on a special mission in conjunction with Eight-Ball where warpdrive was necessary; Katie, in Eight-Ball, used them all the time). Chris did a stint as one of those faceless technicians who worked to retrofit and repair ships like the WAYWARD SON whenever they werein dock. To his surprise and amusement, he worked on the LOVELY ANGEL twice, and both times, Kei and Yuri didn't even notice him until he called their attention to who he was. The second time they docked, they brought a guest. It was Katie Tanner, resplendant in her new rank of Major and her Eight-Ball flight suit. She was on a 10-day pass from her WAYWARD SON duty. "Wow!" Chris said, when he saw her walking down the ramp. "You look great! And you've been promoted!" She kissed him on the cheek. "Yeah. You'd better get back into the loop, or I'm going to outpace you." "Look at me," Chris said. "I'm a Repair Technician, 2nd Class." "I thought you were a Major," Katie remarked. "Hey, this means I DO outrank you..." "Not really," Chris explained. "I'm still a Major in the WDF, but I'm temporarily on 'reserve' status. Your WDF rank doesn't count for much here--it's a different system." "I guess I'd better let you get back to your work," Katie said. "I get off in two hours," Chris replied. "Meet me here, and we'll go out." "It's a deal," Katie said, grinning. "Where will we go?" "It's a special place. See you later." "Bye." Chris went back to work, helping remove the starboard fusion reactor from the ANGEL for replacement with a more powerful version. One facet of the job that Chris thought was neat was how you got to know familiar ships from the inside out, find out how they worked, what made them tick. He certainly wasn't going to take their inner workings for granted any longer, no indeed. They went, of course, to the McDonald's. "I mighta known," Katie remarked, grinning. As they took a seat at the very same table Chris, Aaron, and Alex had occupied when the transition had occurred, a familiar figure walked up. "May I take your order?" Chris looked up. It was Joe Moore! "Joe, sit down, sit down! I see you've gone up in the world!" He was wearing the insignia of a Captain, and the Medical Corps badge. "And I see you've gone down," Joe shot back. "Repair Technician, 2nd Class? Geez..." "Oh, it's only a temporary rank," Chris replied. "When I graduate, I get my old job back--WDF Major." "Major, coolie. Guess I should be calling you sir, then." "You call me 'sir,' Joe, and I'll bean you," Chris said, and they all had a good laugh. "So, what have you been doing with your life?" Chris asked, after he filled Joe in on the seven years that had gone by since they'd last seen each other. "Being a doctor, mostly," Joe said. "I've served all over the place, even on the TIGER'S CLAW." "Hey, my old haunt!" Chris said. "Yeah, I know. They all liked you there, even Maniac. Though he did complain that you didn't let him kill anything." Chris snorted. "Hmp, didn't let anything kill HIM, he means." "May I take your order?" the waiter asked. "You know, I used to work in this place," Joe Moore told him. "When it was back on EARTH." The waiter remained unimpressed, but he did take down their orders, and brought everything back promptly. "You know, this place has improved since we last ate here," Chris remarked. "They give you free refills on drinks now." At last it was nearing midnight, and it was time for Katie to go. "I used up four days of my ten day pass just getting here," she explained. "It'll take the other six to get back. But it was worth it." She gave him one last kiss on the cheek and waved goodbye, then turned. "Hey, why don't you come on board the ANGEL--Kei says we could fly once around the solar system, and she could drop you off before 0100." Chris considered. It was tempting, especially considering the person who was doing the asking. "All right...as long as you have me back by one..." Kei and Yuri looked at each other and giggled, then closed the ramp behind them. It soon became apparent that going back was not something that the Lovely Angels had in mind. It became VERY apparent when the ship jumped to warpdrive just a few thousand kilometers away from UP. "Hey, what's going on?" Chris asked. "We have to go back there! I have to finish my classes!" "Oh? Take a look at this." Katie Tanner grinned, and held up a rolled-up piece of parchment. Chris took it. "'This diploma certifies that Chris Meadows has graduated from the Utopia Planitia Shipyards Comprehensive Technical Training Course,' signed Wolfgang Amadeus Fahrvergnugen..." he read, then looked up. "How in space did you wangle this?!" "It was Lord Fahrvergnugen's idea," Katie said. "He thought you'd like the surprise. Do you?" "Like it? I LOVE it!" Chris rolled the diploma back up. "So we're going back? To the WAYWARD SON?" Katie nodded. "We'll be rendezvousing in just under four days." "Great! Let's go to the observation deck and watch the stars zip by," Chris suggested. "Sounds like an idea to me." So, they sat and talked in the small observation lounge on board the LOVELY ANGEL for many hours, just holding hands. With eternity ahead of them, after all, they could afford to take it slowly. THE END (OF PART I) Produced and Directed by Chris Meadows Technical Advisors: Gryphon, MegaZone, PCHammer, pfloyd Continuity Checking: MegaZone, Gryphon Animation Studios: Tokyo Movie Shinsha Toei Spectrum Special Effects: Academic Gloom and Mundanity Editor: Qedit v2.15 (available at better shareware BBSes everywhere Special Thanks To: The Bettman Archive The Smithsonian Institute Casio Watches Utopia Planitia Film Cybertron Film Commission Commission Palladium Books Wedge Defense Force Semware Historical Archive ---APPENDIX--- Okay. I guess you're confused. Well, I'll try to explain all the obscure references in here that are mine originally. However, I won't mention those that come from other Undocumented Features stories. I would advise you read Undocumented Features 1, 2, and the first part of 3, as well as One Vision and Hammer Time. They should explain a lot. (Heck, I'd recommend you read ALL of UF, but the above are the only ones with a direct bearing on this part of the story.) So here, in order of their appearance in the story, are most of the obscure references, anime and otherwise, that I've used. SCORCHED EARTH 1.2: A really neat tank/artillery game, shareware. You have to take into account wind direction and terrain, then choose angle and power for firing your shot. Some of the explosions are created with fractals, which are really neat. SENTINELS, Jack McKinney: The Robotech novels based on the Robotech sequel series that never got made. Younger brothers with combat knives: They actually DO have the knives I described. The survival equipment, too. And Aaron even made a knife himself--has about a 12" blade; he calls it "Junior". Beanpole elevator: A proposed device to eliminate expensive space launches--an elevator from the planet's surface up to orbit. Read THE BARSOOM PROJECT, by Larry Niven and Steven Barnes. Beanpole elevator with KONICA sign on it: From the opening gambit of DIRTY PAIR: PROJECT EDEN (one of my favorite movies). Orange and white ship; yellow shuttle: From the opening gambit of PROJECT EDEN. They dock with the elevator, and then...Just see it for yourself. VR-hundred series Cyclones: Dave Deitrich and I are making a Robotech Post-Invid RPG supplement. For said supplement, Dave designed a new series of Cyclones, the VR-hundred series, developed quite independantly of (and quite differently from) the VR-hundreds mentioned in the WDF Technical Readout. For the purposes of avoiding confusion, these will be referred to in my stories as DVR-hundred series Cyclones. The TIGER'S CLAW, Hornets, Scimitars, Spirit, Iceman: From the computer game WING COMMANDER, by Origin Systems. Play it or die. Incom/Subpro Z-95 Headhunters: From HAN SOLO AT STAR'S END by Brian Daley, and subsequently the STAR WARS SOURCEBOOK from West End Games. An old, outdated, but still damned good combat fighter (rather like the old F-4 Phantom is today). In the right hands, deadly. Cycroder: The small spacecraft Kimball Kinnison flew at the beginning of LENSMAN (English dub). Jalthi, Kilrathi: From WING COMMANDER, see above. Silver Star Award: From WING COMMANDER, see above. All the pilots of Zebra Flight: Made up out of whole cloth. No intentional in-jokes or references. Maniac: From WING COMMANDER, see above. Katie Tanner: From nowhere except my own subconscious mind. I couldn't think of an anime female who hadn't been used already and I wanted my character to fall in love with, so I just made someone up. So sue me. :) P-38J Lightning: The star of the arcade/Nintendo games 1942 and 1943, and the coolest WWII plane ever to see the air. Twin turboprops, did 450 mph easy, over 600 in a dive. Cyclone ejector system: Actually something I came up with for the Robotech RPG supplement Dave Deitrich and I have been working on. Joe Moore's 1968 Dodge Dart: The "Kilroy the Thundergod" of automobiles. UUUUUgly. But a neat car anyway (I have to say that; Joe's listening, you see). Gratha: From WING COMMANDER, see above. "Emergency. Emergency." etc.: One of my favorite lines from RED DWARF. Watch it or die. Ticket written in crayon: Actually a hal