Well, Not much re-wrting, but I combined what was the original prologue with
the original chapter 1. Doesnt really need a "pure" prolouge per se anyways.
Book one (Wandering Moon) is basicly the prolouge!
(Note: I had to break it into two segments and post tehm separatly because of
the length of the finsished piece... AOL has a hard limit of 32k for a
e-mail message.)
Even though these things give you about as much legal coverage
as a G-string on a stripper, I am going to include it anyways.
Most of the charecters in this story are the property of Harmony
Gold, and a whole lot of other companies who's names escape me at the
moment, and are used without their permission. However, since this
is a not for profit undertaking, I dont think its neccecary to worry
about it. At any rate, I'm so broke suing would be a waste of time.
The few original charecters in here are mine, so please ask before
using them in a fic of your own.
Comments and Criticisms welcome: E-Mail Starrngr@aol.com.
Flames will be promptly filed in file 13 and
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Tales of the wanderer: Wandering Ace: Episode 1: Insertion!
Micheal Thunders looked at the receding Tokyo skyline in his
rear-view mirror and sighed. He had promised to leave, but he really
didn't want to. I will come back to you, Patricia. That I promise,
he vowed to himself, as a soft sigh escaped his lips.
"You're going to miss her, aren't you," FRED, the artificial
intelligence that was his one constant in his travels, noted.
Without him, though, Micheal could never have found Patricia,
as it was Fred who made creating a stable portal possible.
"More than you know, FRED. More than you know." The unexpected
had happened when he had been brought to this fica. He had fallen
in love with one of the residents, a teacher by the name of Patricia
Haruna. But the local guardian of time and destiny had forced him to
move on, noting that his presence would disrupt things that were yet
to come. So, once again he found himself leaving friends behind
to face the unknown.
"But what about Jedi? I thought the whole reason behind this
quest was to get back to her. I mean, are we still trying to get
back to where you started from or what?" Fred continued.
"Yes, and no, FRED. We are going to find our way back, but only
to make sure Jedi is OK. Then we make our way back here, got it?"
Micheal had been thrown from his home fica by and exploding piece
of teleportation equipment gone awry. Jedi was a young female
superhero from his home fica for whom he had cared a great deal,
though he had found true love in Patricia Haruna. Since he could
not remain with Patricia for some time yet, he had decided to
continue his self appointed quest to find his way back and check on
Jedi.
"Riiiight." Fred's tone conveyed a distinct lack of conviction.
"Anyway, I'm still getting a bit of interference on some of the
portal sensors. Probably an after effect of blowing up Tinkerer's
toys. I should be able to compensate for them by the time we're
ready to jump, though. By the way, we want this next exit."
The large Black High Mobility Multi Wheeled Vehicle, commonly
known as a Hummer, braked stiffly and then slid through a gap barely
longer than itself and over onto the off-ramp. "A little more
warning next time would be nice, FRED," Micheal growled, then
suddenly cut off as he tried in vain to get a second look at a
roadside sign. "Wait a sec... I thought that sign said something
about a Self Defense Force airbase!"
"Probably, cause that's where we're headed," FRED replied
nonchalantly.
"ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR METALLIC MIND???" Micheal shouted in
astonishment, slamming on the brakes and pulling off onto the
shoulder. "What sort of weird logic makes you think that's the place
to stage a portal run, Baka???"
"Its the closest place with a large flat paved area one can be
reasonably sure will be clear. We blow through the checkpoint,
get on a taxiway, and are up to 88 and gone before they figure out
what happened. Trust me on this." Their arrival in this fica had
occurred on a busy highway, and the blinding light that was a side
effect of the portal equipment had caused a major accident. Micheal
had decided that he didn't want a repeat of such an incident when
they left. In addition to this was the fact that most of the roads
were either too crowded or too filled with turns to allow the vehicle
to get up to the minimum speed to penetrate the portal before it
collapsed.
"Riiiight." This time it was Micheal's turn to sound
unconvinced.
* * * * * * * * *
"Mother, Vermilion 23, flight of two. Sweep complete,
requesting RTB," Maximillian Sterling reported into his radio after
giving the sky one last visual sweep. Like his flying, Max's
official radio discipline was perfect, giving just the pertinent
information: who he was calling, who he was, and what he had to say.
"Vermilion 23, Mother. Affirmative on the RTB. Steer heading
165 degrees and descend to Angels 20. Be advised you have inbound
traffic at your 1 o clock, 20 miles, angels 15, 200 knots." the air
traffic controller on the SDF-1 replied.
"Vermilion 23, leaving angels 25 for angels 20," Max
acknowledged, easing his Veritech into a slow descending turn to keep
things simple for his wingman, Ben Dixon. "Mother, Vermilion
23, Radar contact on the traffic. Angels 15, 1 o clock, 15 miles.
Requesting permission to join up for visual inspection," he reported
as the pair of transforming fighters rolled out onto their new
heading and their radar acquired the inbound traffic.
The flight controller chuckled into her microphone at the
request. During their long fight back to earth, visual inspection
of contacts was unnecessary. If it wasn't a Veritech, it was the
enemy. Still, the request was within Max's responsibilities
as a patrol leader. "Roger, Vermilion 23. Traffic is on button
two, call sign Minmei Special, Join up visually." she replied.
"Vermilion 23, Leaving angels 20 for angels 15, off frequency
for button two," Max replied in his calm unruffled voice as the two
fighters continued to descend. The two fighters entered a second
slow turn that brought them around behind the contact and then
extended their airbrakes to slow down for rendezvous. The contact
was a small red turboprop with yellow trim and a cowled rear pusher
fan. Remembering the day's duty roster, Max realized who the pilot
was. Instead of calling on the radio, Max flashed the running lights
of his Veritech and the two fighters separated and slid up one on
each side until the three planes were only about 20 feet from each
other. The practical joking side of Max's personality was trying
to best decide how to let his boss know he had snuck up on him when
Ben broke radio silence, and the surprise.
"Veritech Patrol to Minmei Special. Hey, Lieutenant! It's Ben
and Max!" the burly wingman called over the radio.
"Huh?" came the confused reply from their boss, Lieutenant
Rick Hunter. Max saw him turn his head towards him and gave his team
leader a jaunty wave.
"We hear you have a VIP aboard," Ben continued good-naturedly.
"Some guys have all the luck," Max added, not being able to pass
up the chance to give his boss a good-natured ribbing before
switching back to the main controller channel. "Mother, Vermilion
23. Contact checks out. Returning to base course."
"We're returning to base; have a nice date!" Ben suggested
good naturedly as he followed Max up and out of formation with the
fan liner and into a turn to take them back to the SDF-1.
"So long, wise guys," their boss responded as the fan liner
disappeared into the distance behind them. "See ya later."
"Back to button one, Ben" Max informed his wingman. "Let's
get these birds back on the boat."
* * * * * * * * * *
Emergency sirens blew and red rotating lights flashed all over
the alerted base as the black Hummer skidded around the corner
between the two hangers and fishtailed slightly as it screamed
down the flight line. Right behind it, two olive drab jeeps skidded
around the same corner in hot pursuit; the MP's in the back holding
on during the turn. Once the concern of being thrown from the back
was past, they again opened fire on the black intruder. Their M-16's
gave off strings of short pops, causing sparks to fly from the
pavement near the Humvee's tires.
Micheal swore out loud and started swerving the vehicle back and
forth to try and present a harder target to hit. "FRED, we need to
get out of here... NOW!!!"
"Umm... I'm still having problems with the distortions...
I can't get a clean fix. I have three possibles, but I can't be
certain of them." Fred replied in a timid tone.
"AWW CRUD!!! You said we would be in and gone before anyone
noticed! News flash... THE'VE NOTICED! Just pick one, we need to
jump right now!" Micheal retorted angrily.
Ahead of them, a M2A2 Bradley armored personnel carrier pulled
out from between two buildings, its 25mm cannon training in their
direction. Micheal skidded the Hummer through a tight left turn,
while the whine of the ricochets caused base personell to dive for
solid cover as the vehicles tore by.
"We're going parallel to the flight line now, Boss. If we take a
left at the end of this road, we'll have the whole length of the
flight line to run up to speed," Fred Reported.
"Right. Lock in whatever co-ords you have and get ready to spin up
the portal generator as soon as we straighten out."
Ahead of them, a duce and a half truck appeared from behind a hanger
and screeched to a stop, MP's jumping out even before the truck had
finished braking. Micheal took one look at the narrow gap between
the rear of the truck and the building and stomped heavily on the
brakes. MP's scattered like leaves on a windy day as the Hummer
decelerated violently, then slid smoothly through the gap between
truck and building thanks to its lower speed. This allowed the two
jeeps in pursuit to close the distance between them before they too
were forced to slow down to shoot the gap.
The Hummer skidded around the corner onto the flight line, hitting
a patch of grease and fishtailing wildly, loosing precious speed as
Micheal struggled to keep from loosing control and get the big black
beast pointing down the flight line.
"Portal Generator coming on line," FRED reported, and Micheal
stopped swerving back and forth and accelerated up to 88.
Flight-line personell stopped what they were doing and watched the
scene unfolding before them. Up ahead, the Bradley AFV pulled out
from between two planes and stopped right in their path. Micheal
gauged the distance between them and hoped it would be enough. The
rear doors opened on the APC and solders scrambled out, thinking
a collision was eminent, but the vehicle commander remained aboard
and the turreted 25mm cannon began tracking the approaching
intruder.
Behind them, the two jeeps full of MP's swerved aside, braking wildly
to keep from becoming part of said collision. The 25mm cannon on the
APC never opened fire, as the black HMMWV ran into it broadsides
and everything was obscured in a flash of brilliant white light.
When the light died and everyone was able to see again, there was no
sign of the intruder, and the APC was missing most of the barrel
of its cannon.
* * * * * * * * *
Max goosed the throttles gently and followed the plane handler's
directions as he taxied off the elevator into the hanger deck of
Prometheus. The large enclosed space was a hive of purposeful
chaos, as the maintenance crews took advantage of the respite form
combat the return to earth had given them to get the Veritechs
back into top condition. A bright flash to his right prompted
him to slam on his brakes.
"HEY! Watch it!" Ben complained as he too stopped short to keep
the two planes from colliding. "Holy..." his complaints suddenly
stopped as he caught sight of the cause of the problem. From the
white flash a large black vehicle of a strange design had emerged,
traveling at a high speed. Max's reaction in stopping short had been
the correct one, as the vehicle swerved slightly and flashed by the
nose of his Veritech with scant inches of clearance. Aircrewmen
dove for cover as the strange vehicle screamed down the bay, swerving
to try and avoid assorted obstacles and fishtailing wildly. An
abandoned tow cart proved to be too much, as the strange vehicle
was unable to get around it, its right front tire striking the
trailing tow bar and vaulting it into the air. The airborne vehicle
pinwheeled wildly before slamming back down on the deck and sliding
a few more meters to a stop with a metallic screech. "Hey! Wait up,
Max!" the burly pilot shouted, realizing that his flight leader had
abandoned his plane and was running across the now eerily silent
hanger deck towards the wreck. Ben too abandoned his Veritech
where it sat and followed his compatriot down the length of the
hanger deck.
Ben grabbed a fire extinguisher bottle from the tow cart as he
passed, and trotted up to the wreck. The black vehicle had come to
rest on its left side, but the force of the collision had spun the
vehicle around so that it was pointed aft, at the corridor that lead
to Macross city. Aware of the fire risk, he gave the underside
of the wreck a once over for leaking fuel. Most of the underbody
was covered in a black metallic sheet, with only the drive shafts
and suspension visible. Despite the violence of the collision,
the only visible damage was the missing right front wheel, which had
been torn completely from the vehicle. Max was already up on the top
of the wreck, struggling with the right side door.
"Someone get the medics," Max shouted as Ben put down the fire
extinguisher and climbed up to help. "We have a wounded man in here!
Ben, hold this door open, willya?" As the larger of the pair held
the door open against the pull of gravity, Max dropped down into the
wreck, landing behind the injured driver on what would be the back
seat window if the wreck was right side up. The clear material
bonged at the impact, but did not break. The driver lay limply on
his side, against the driver's side door and now even Ben could see
the small pool of blood forming next to the unconscious man's head.
Max gave the stranger a quick once over. Whoever this driver
was seemed human, and had been thrown against the driver's side door
by the crash despite his seat belts. The stranger was unconscious,
with red hair about the same length as his own and a very full red
mustache. He wore a blue nylon shirt with large red flowers on it
and black slacks. Over it all was a long black coat similar to the
raincoats that were uniform issue for the RDF, not that one needed
to worry about rain inside the massive SDF-1. Red blood dampened
the hair on the left side of the stranger's head and was starting
to pool. Hearing the sirens of the Crash response teams approaching,
he wisely decided to let the professionals move the victim. Ben
reached down and took Max's outstretched hand and lifted him out of
the interior of the wreck.
"Your patient is in there," Max informed the head paramedic
as the two pilots jumped down off the wreck. "Caucasian male, age 21
plus. Looks like he was slammed against the driver's side door
during the crash. Definite head wound, so I didn't try and move him
to check for anything else."
"Uhuh. Right, sure," the head paramedic observed, unconvinced.
"Murphy, Jones, check these two out and make sure their ok. Davies,
Biabat, lets see if there are any other victims."
By the time Max and Ben had convinced the paramedics that they
weren't hurt a jeep full of Military Police had arrived. Suddenly
the crowd that had started to gather around the wreck dispersed,
going back to their tasks rather than wishing to deal with them. The
MP's set up a cordon around the wreck, and the sergeant in charge
of the unit walked over to Ben and Max.
"I take it you two saw what happened?" the burly MP inquired.
The two pilots nodded in silent acknowledgment. "You two come with
me then, and lets get your statements taken down," the MP declared,
indicating his jeep with a jerk of his head.
"So much for lunch," Ben sighed wistfully, as the fact that the
questions would probably go on for quite some time sunk in.
"Think of it as a favor," the MP replied with a wicked smile
as the two pilots climbed into the jeep. "The commissary is serving
SOS. Again."
"But I like chipped beef!" Ben replied innocently, causing
the MP to shudder at that thought before starting the jeep.
* * * * * * * * *
Ben Dixon sighed and shifted in his chair impatiently as the two
pilots waited for the return of the accident investigator.
He eyed the half a sandwich sitting on Max's plate and elbowed his
fellow pilot gently. "Hey Max, you gonna finish that sandwich?"
Max didn't answer, only pushed the plate in question over to Ben
absentmindedly. Ben devoured the sandwich half in three largish
bites before realizing that something was amiss. He looked over at
Max, who was peering off into space in what pilots called the
thousand-yard stare. Ben had to resort to snapping his fingers
in front of his friends eyes a couple of times to get his attention.
"Hey Max! You OK?"
Max blinked for a moment before looking over at Ben. "Yeah.
It's just this whole thing has been so weird. One minute the MP's
are acting like we're responsible, and the next they're falling
all over us to be nice. That car that wrecked on the hanger deck
looked military, but it wasnt anything I've seen before. And the guy
in it wasnt wearing a uniform either."
"That's enough speculation, flyboy," noted the MP, who had
returned to the interrogation room unnoticed. "I've just gotten
word from on high. You two are free to go. In fact, you've been
removed from the duty roster for the rest of the day." The MP held
up a hand in warning as he continued. "However, this whole incident
has now been classified most secret. If anyone asks, you two didn't
see ANYTHING. Period. You two talk about this to ANYONE and your
gonna be enjoying an extended vacation in the brig. Got it?"
"Yessir!" the two pilot chorused as they made their way to the
door.
"Don't call me sir! I work for a living!" the MP snarled the
traditional response to the pilot's retreating backs.
* * * * * * * * *