Well, after much work, and WAAAY to much goofing around and just plain
staring at a half blank computer screen, I've finally completed chapter 3 of
book 2 of Tales of the Wanderer... And I am hearby submitting it to everyone
for their comments. PLEASE, Comment!!
--
Starrngr -- Ranger HQ
HTTP://home.talkcity.com/TheSanitarium/Da_Muck/
"You wear a Hawaiian shirt and bring your music on a RUN? No wonder they
call you Howling Mad..." -- Rabid the Pysad.
-- Attached file included as plaintext by Listar --
-- File: totw2_3f.txt
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 ignored. Previous
parts of this story can be found at: Ranger HQ:
HTTP://home.talkcity.com/TheSanitarium/Da_Muck/Libr/wndr/
----------------------------------------------------------------------
Tales of the Wanderer: Book 2: Wandering Ace Episode 3: Repercussions
Claudia Grant looked up as Roy Fokker stuck his head in the door.
"Hey there, good looking... got a moment?" He asked with that rakish
grin of his.
"Depends. Is this official or personal?" she countered with a
matching grin.
"A little of both. I need to track down Minmei."
"That had better be the official part," she growled playfully
and was rewarded with Roy's patented 'Would I do that?' looks.
"Yup. I have a friend who could use some cheering up; I need
to talk to her."
"Easy enough; she's making a movie. You can find her on the set
every day... aft end of town, just off the main road. Now, can we
get to the personal part, Commander Fokker?"
She was rewarded with a leer. "How personal d'ya wanna get?"
"Dinner tonight?" 'And although you may not know it, breakfast
tomorrow', she added to herself.
"Make your famous Pineapple salad and not even an enemy attack
could keep me away. Anything new with your 'special friend'?"
She shook her head. "Not yet. Lang is supposed to be up to
look him over in about an hour, and he's sending someone to look at
the car they found our friend in as well," she noted with a faint
expression of exasperation. "Which reminds me... I need to talk to
Misters Sterling and Dixon. Apparently, they were the ones who found
him."
"I'll send them up, and then I've got to run. Your place at
about 19?"(1)
"You know it, Flyboy."
* * * * * * * * *
FM2 (2) 'Rod' Fowler had a sour look on his face as LS3
Gottschalk finished taping the gap between his gloves and the rest
of the radiation suit. "Hey, Milo, did the LT say why we got stuck
with this scut detail?"
Outside the RCA, (Radiation Containment Area) PS1 Milo
Wassermann suppressed a chuckle. "Cause your just to darn Good to be
bothered with real work," he replied, before turning to where PS3
'Elvis' Bates manned the phones to engineering control. "Tell
Central we're ready to enter." The other PO acknowledged that with
a fairly decent impersonation of his namesake, then spoke into his
sound powered phone. A minute later Elvis gave Milo the high sign,
and Milo nodded to the entry team. Rod scowled and led his three-man
team through the hatch.
The sound of the hatch sliding open brought FRED out of standby
mode. The four people in radiation suits were clearly not 'Muck'
Thunders, which meant they were probably going to try and take him
apart and see what made him tick. Unfortunately, whoever had stuck
him in here for safekeeping had stuck him up on blocks, so he didn't
have many options for stopping them if they were determined about
it.
LS2 'Thumper' Chang set to work immediately, taking air samples
all around the vehicle as well as randomly through the rest of the
space, while EM2 'Shiner' Bowlegg did the same with a radiation
detector. "I have a low level count," Shiner reported over his suit
comm to Milo. "'Bout as hot as a Veritech plant on standby."
He swapped the radiation counter for an infrared unit, or 'nifty'.
"Same thing for heat. Whatever this thing is, looks like its powered
by a pocket fusion plant under the hood."
"Air's clean too," reported Thumper. "No contaminants,
can't say about bugs though."
"Sure looks like a Hummer, a Hard-back model. It's a classic;
they stopped making them at the start of the civil war in favor of
the more capable soft-top model," PS3 'Stick' Stave noted, walking
over to look through the back window. FRED promptly cranked the tint
current wide open, and all glass on the car darkened into opacity.
"What the hay?" Stick growled as he reached for the tailgate release
and FRED locked the doors with a thunk.
"Looks like it likes you about as much as I do," Rod snorted,
slowly walking around the vehicle. "Milo, are you sure someone's
not trying to pull a fast one on us?"
"Don't see any reason why they would. Why?"
"Cause what I'm seeing doesn't make sense. L.T. said this thing
crashed up on one of the hanger decks right?"
"Yeah."
"Well, except for a couple of broken lights and a missing wheel
this thing looks like it drove right off the assembly line. No
scratched paint or nothing. And the windows just darkened and the
doors locked all on their own."
"Maybe it thinks it's a vending machine," quipped Shiner.
Rod growled at Shiner, but Milo's voce cut off whatever it was
Rod was about to say. "Try and get the hood open then. IF there
really is a fusion plant in there, we should be able to tell who made
it pretty easy."
By this time, FRED had managed to find the frequency the team
was using and was silently eavesdropping. Hearing this, FRED figured
he had only a couple of tricks left, and doubted either of them would
be very effective. He still had to try, though, and switched on his
external speakers.
Rod tried to reach for the hood release and cursed. "Can't
reach the hood release with my suit on. Hand me that crowbar,
Stick." As the crowbar smacked into his palm, the intact headlight
flashed and the car announced "Alarm ARMED". Rod quirked an eyebrow,
and stuck the crowbar into the gap between the hood and the grill.
"Intrusion detected," Fred noted, doing his best to impersonate
an impersonal car alarm. "You are too close to this vehicle. Please
step away." Rod gave a derisive snort and prepared to put his weight
on the crowbar. Fred got ready to pump a wailing noise through
the speakers at max volume and hoped for a miracle.
At that moment, the SDF-1 went to general quarters. FRED would
have breathed a sigh of relief if he were human. Rod dropped the
crowbar and he and his team sprinted for the door and their
battlestations...
* * * * * * * * *
Micheal Thunders drifted in a warm black void. He wasn't really
sure how long he had been this way, but at the moment didn't really
care. To be frank, he would have been content to remain like this
a while longer, but his other half quietly intruded on his thoughts.
<<Operating system rebooted>>
<<Running Diagnostic mode... Complete>>
<<No faults detected>>
<<Are you all right? >>
>>G'way. 'm sleep. <<
<<I advise you wake up>>
>>Uh huh. Right. Five more minutes. <<
All thoughts of sleep suddenly vanished as the impossibility
of this conversation impacted on his consciousness. The CPU of the
probe he had accidentally merged with three years ago had always
been present in a back corner of his mind... but never like this!
Responding to something other than the basic command set? Using
correct English? It even 'felt' different... almost human, and yet
not.
>>Confirm mode! <<
<<Standby mode confirmed>>
>>What the deuce???<<
Micheal's eyes snapped open, and a wash of gray swamped his
vision before resolving into a standard acoustical tile ceiling.
He tried to sit up, only to find that he was restrained to the bed.
Still, looking down confirmed that he was in his human form... and
wearing one of those embarrassing hospital gowns. He also noted he
was restrained to the bed at writs and ankle, even as his other
'self' continued undaunted.
<<Context of statement unclear. However, I believe my enhanced
capabilities are a result of injuries sustained during our departure
from controlled travel>>
>>You mean the crash. <<
<<I believe that is what I said>>
>>Great. I get knocked upside the head and now I have Spock
living in my head. <<
<<Reference is undefined. Please clarify>>
>>Later. MUCH later. Now, why did you wake me up? <<
<<An audio evacuation warning was detected>>
>>Oh. <<
A quick experiment proved that while the restraints were
sufficient to hold his normal body, they were not strong enough to
contain his Star Ranger form. Unfortunately, neither was the bed,
which began to creak ominously under his transformed weight,
prompting him to climb off and return to his normal form. He then
realized that whatever else was true about this Fica, it adhered
to the fact that hospital floors were always linoleum, and cold! The
room had a cold sterility about it that was common of all hospitals
above a certain tech level, and was obviously a private one, for his
was the only bed in the room, and no indication that there were any
provisions for another. A quick search revealed a closet by the
lavatory, containing a set of hospital greens and a set of house
slippers, but no sign of his clothes. The unisex garments fit well
enough, but the slippers were a bit large. Micheal didn't mind,
though, as at least they were warmer than that accursed floor! The
door to the hallway was locked, but no real barrier to his strength
as Star Ranger. The outside corridor confirmed his initial theory
that he was in some sort of infirmary, but there was no one in
sight... so he picked a direction at random and began to walk,
looking for someone who could tell him where he should be evacuating
too. The floor was empty in this direction except for a slightly
built brunette (3) asleep in one of the rooms, so he decided against
waking her until he had a better idea of what was going on and
proceeded down the hall, which ended in a large solarium. The
solarium was occupied, but Micheal didn't notice at first as he
recognized the skyline outside the large windows... and realized
that he was in very deep trouble.
"Macross City..." he noted, not really realizing that he spoke
aloud. "And no one on the streets. This is not good."
"We'll be OK. Big Brother is out there. He'll keep the
Zentraedi out of the city proper!" assured a voice from his left,
startling Micheal, who recognized the dark haired speaker in similar
clothes.
"Hikaru Ichijyo..." Micheal murmured, his mind still reeling
from the realization of where he was.
"Huh? I think you have me confused with someone else. The
name's Hunter. Rick Hunter," the younger man replied, holding out
his hand. Before Micheal could take it, a growling, ripping noise
was heard through the large windows. Both men turned to see the
mecha of Quadrano ace Miriya drop through the EVA 'sky' and land in
the street in front of them in a shower of debris. Rick's heart sank
at the sight of an enemy mecha in the very heart of the ship, while
Micheal used the distraction to quickly organize his thoughts.
'Rick Hunter. That places me in either the McKinney or Harmony
Gold timelines. Americanized names. Veritechs, not Valkeries.
Ben Dixon, Max Sterling, Roy Fokker... SHIT! This is the Pineapple
Salad episode!' Micheal realized with another shock as Max Sterling's
blue trimmed VT dropped from above and chased the enemy mecha through
the streets of Macross. 'Tonight, at about 7:30, Roy Fokker, the
SDF-1's best pilot is going to die of his wounds. There must be
something I can do...' Beside him, Rick Hunter had also recognized
the blue trimmed VT and was cheering it on as Micheal's brain tried
to figure out a way to warn Claudia Grant that wouldn't get him
fitted for a nice coat that closed in the back.
Excusing himself, he found as he exited the solarium that
convincing Claudia Grant was going to be the least of his problems,
as he suddenly ran into two very large and very irate military
police types. And the fact that they had the business ends of their
weapons pointed in his direction certainly seemed a good indication
that he was the one they were looking for... He briefly considered
trying to escape, but quickly tossed the idea out the window. He was
certain that their weapons wouldn't be able to harm the metallic
hide of his Star Ranger persona, but being in a hospital made the
chances of endangering an innocent (Such as Rick, still in the
solarium) much to great to risk.
"Umm, I surrender?" he ventured, cautiously raising his hands
over his head, overriding his 'probe' side's desire to switch to
attack mode and 'explain' to these two why pointing a weapon in his
general direction was a VERY *BAD* idea.
"Wise decision, smartass," growled MP number one, his weapon
unwavering as the second circled around behind Micheal. "Just keep
your hands right where I can see them."
'What the hell?' he thought to himself as MP number two roughly
yanked his arms down and handcuffed him. "Um, I don't suppose you
two would mind telling me what is going on, would you?"
"What's going on is your going back to your room and wait for
Commander Grant. Then you can explain to her what you were doing
trying to escape, spy," MP#1 snorted in response, grabbing Micheal
roughly by the elbow and propelling him down the corridor.
'Oh, this is JUST great. They think I'm some sort of micronized
Zentraedi,' Micheal mused to himself as the two MP's escorted him
back to his room. 'I guess breaking the door-lock wasn't such a good
idea... But he did say Commander Grant. Its got be Claudia, I doubt
there could be two of them even on a ship this size. Maybe I still
have a chance here...' As he was lead through the door, he took in
the various looks on the hospital staff, which ranged from fear to
hatred. 'Then again, maybe not...'
"Go ahead and cuff him to that chair, Adam," MP number one,
Tybalt, according to his nametag, decided. "Then call the bridge
and let Commander Grant know he's awake. Then call HQ and have them
send a couple more men. We'll keep two in the room and two at the
door till the commander decides what to do with him." Micheal opened
his mouth, but was cut off before he could speak. "Not a word out of
you, brig bait. Save it for the commander."
* * * * * * * * *
"Right, I'll tell her," Comm Tech first class Vanessa Leeds
assured the agitated MP on the other end of the line, before clearing
the circuit. 'In the morning. From the sound of that pineapple
salad comment, Claudia has a date with Commander Fokker tonight.
At least one of us should get to have a chance at a decent love
life...'
* * * * * * * * *
Claudia Grant was definitely totally in love. Which, she
supposed, was why Roy irritated her so sometimes. Leading the
understrength Vermilion squadron into battle today was bad enough,
but at least she had known about it before hand. And now, he was
just sitting there strumming tunelessly on his guitar. Judging
by the look on his face, though, today's mission had been tougher
on her beloved than most. Right then and there she decided that Roy
was taking the day off tomorrow and rest, even if she had to tie him
to her bed to guarantee it.
"You know, Lisa admitted today that she likes Lt. Hunter. She
even went down and saw him in the Hospital today," she noted.
"Mr. Lingerie and the Old Sourpuss? That will be an interesting
romance to watch," Roy noted wryly.
"Oh, I dunno. I doubt it'll be more tempestuous than ours,"
Claudia joked lightly, before becoming somber again. "I'm just glad
that you told me you were taking over Vermilion this morning. It was
bad enough knowing you were going up; I don't know what I would have
done if I hadn't known. Sometimes it seems like you pilots treat
this like a giant game."
"It's never been a game, Claudia. Not for me, not ever," Roy
declared shortly. Somehow, he felt cold all over. He tried to turn
his attention back to his guitar, but his hands didn't want to
listen. 'Just a quick nap', he decided, as his eyelids descended
of their own volition.
He forced himself to open them again as someone called his name
from far away. He found himself wrapped in a brilliant white light
as Kramer walked up to him and tossed him his flight helmet. There
was one mission left to fly... THE mission. The mission that would
end war everywhere, and then there wouldn't be anything to take him
from her side again. After this he could turn in his flight helmet
for good, and Claudia wouldn't have to worry about him anymore.
He was sure she would understand. He didn't understand how Pop Hunter
had gotten tapped for this mission, but he was glad the old flyer
was there as well. He was surrounded by some of the best men he had
ever flown with, with the best fighters he had ever seen... far
sleeker and even more dazzling than a Veritech. They were climbing
now, up and up through the atmosphere, the sky growing strangely
brighter instead of the darkness of space; Roy grinned his rakish
grin as he led his squadron right into the center of the brilliant
white light.
* * * * * * * * *
Even before Dr. Hassan stepped out of the emergency room,
Claudia knew. Even as her head tried to remind her of how many times
these doctors had saved someone from certain death, deep in her heart
she knew. Roy Fokker, the man she loved more than anything, was
dead. Dr. Hassan's expression as he stepped into the waiting room
only confirmed what she already knew, even before he spoke the
dreaded words. She heard the stilted, formal phrases only faintly;
as if the entirety of reality had been pushed far away by the
emptiness swirling around her.
Then she was left alone, to look on the one face that meant more
to her than anything else for the last time. He had already been
cleaned up, and lying there with the sheet up to his chest all she
could remember was the wonder she had felt that first morning,
when she had woken up before him and sat for an hour just looking
at his face. As then, he looked so calm and relaxed, a far cry from
the focused leader of men he was inside the cockpit of a Veritech.
She had laid her hand on his chest feeling the warmth and its slow
rise and fall. But now the chest under her hand was still and cold,
and the moment of happy memory dissolved into cruel reality, and the
emptiness about her crystallized into soul crushing sorrow as she
threw herself across his chest and wept.
If asked later, Claudia could not have told anyone if that
timeless moment of sorrow was a minute, or an hour; checking a watch
or clock would only have cheapened her final moments with the man who
had meant more to her than life itself. Eventually, it passed,
as all moments must regardless of their length, and she stood on
unsteady legs. Still the emptiness of her loss swirled about her,
and eventually she found herself standing on the roof of Macross
General, with no real recollection of how she had gotten there.
Above her was a darkness that matched the darkness trying to seep
into every corner of her soul; below, a vista of lights like that of
their occasional trips up into the hills around Macross Island.
It was the occasion of their first trip into those hills that
she had made her pineapple salad for him the first time, and he had
never failed to show when she made it. Tonight, that had killed
him. Suddenly, her sorrow became guilt; had he not been so
determined to spend the evening with her he would not have died. It
was all her fault that the SDF-1 was without one of its best pilots!
For a moment she considered throwing herself off the roof in an
attempt to atone for her selfishness when someone below her slid open
a window. Drifting through the silent air of the giant hold came the
haunting lyrics of one of Roy's favorite tunes; the one he used to
calm her fears that she might die before he did.
"If you should get there before I do, please kindly wait for me.
I'll be with you when my chores are through. It won't be long 'til
I'm with you. Until then... Love, Me."
A warmth enveloped her, as if Roy had stepped out of nowhere
and wrapped his strong and loving arms around her. Roy Fokker may
have died, but he had died doing what he loved most. He had died
defending those who could not defend themselves, and he had kept his
promise to always come home to her. A peace settled over her,
banishing the guilt. It was as she said when she first met him...
he was at his best going Mach 2 with his pants on fire. "Yes, Roy
Fokker," she whispered into the silence. "I'll wait till my chores
are through. Until I am again with you, love... Me."
Claudia stepped out of the elevator and blinked for a moment
in confusion. She had intended to ride down to the lobby, but had
wound up on the floor Rick Hunter's room was on instead. She
considered breaking the news to him, but decided that it could wait
until morning. It would probably be better to allow someone else to
deliver the news as well. Colonel Maistroff's alleged spy was on
this floor as well, and the doctors thought he should be conscious
by now, so she turned in that direction instead.
The two MP's by the door came to attention as she approached,
and she returned their salute. "How is the prisoner, Sergeant
Jury?"
"Awake, Ma'am. He was making a ruckus about seeing you until
about 19:30 ma'am, then he just sort of clamed up."
"When did he come to?"
"During the attack ma'am." The sergeant flushed, but continued.
"He got out of his room for a moment while we were helping the staff
evacuate patients, but we found him before he got off this floor.
Sergeant Tybalt and Corporal Bailesu (4) are in with him now."
Claudia nodded understanding, and the corporal opened the door
for her. She couldn't help but note the damage to the doorjamb...
apparently; this person was much stronger than anyone had thought.
Which explained the two other MP's stationed in the room with the
prisoner, who was at present handcuffed to a chair with his back to
her, facing the window. She walked around it to face him before
speaking, while the MP's moved to stand on either side of her. "I'm
Lieutenant Commander Grant. I understand you wanted to speak with
me?"
"I'm... I'm sorry, Claudia. I tried to warn you..." the
prisoner murmured softly, looking up from his lap. Claudia noticed
that he had a downcast expression on his face, but his confusing
words only added to the barely controlled pain in her heart.
"What are you talking about?" she demanded.
"At 19:30 hours this evening, Commander Roy Fokker was
pronounced dead in the ER," Micheal replied softly. Claudia rocked
back on her heels, in shock, as that soft pronouncement tore open the
scab over her healing hurt. Catching everyone, including herself
by surprise, she snatched the weapon from one of the MP's and leveled
it at the prisoner.
"Who the hell are you and how did you know that?" she demanded.
Continued in Part 4: Response
++++
(1) This is a type of slang... Roy is referring to 1900 hours, or 7pm
to a civilian.
(2) These characters can be found in Jaime Wilde's story "Snipes
in Wonderland", and are used by permission. A quick translation
guide:
EM = Electrician's Mate
FM = Fusion Maintenance tech
LS = Life Support Systems tech
PS = Power Systems Tech
(3) Yes, it's Minmei. No, he didn't recognize her. Think about
it... He only sees her from behind, and he hasn't been constantly
exposed to her presence for the last two years the way everyone
aboard has. :)
(4) The names of the MP's are, indeed, list moderators for various
Mailing Lists I belong too. What can I say? It seemed apropriate...