In a message dated 5/23/2000 9:02:34 PM Pacific Daylight Time,
aerolbj@i-next.net writes:
Well, since I make a cameo appearance, I have to do some public C&C. ^_^
>-- Attached file included as plaintext by Listar --
>-- File: totw2_4f.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
^
Characters
Yeah, I know, nit-picking again. ^_^
Maybe it is, but its good to get rid of little things like that. Makes one's
work read so much better, don't you think?
<snip>
When in text mode, use text except if part of a name or a title. Change 3
to
three. And thanks for the cameo. And anti-Huk? I dunno what that means
except if you're referring to the fifties rebel group Hukbalahap. And
fascinating
thing you mentioned rebel, almost got into the NPA once during college.
Emphasis on the almost.
Heh, now that's going to go over well in my resume: Former communist
sympathizer. ^_^
Heh. I see your point, So I added a 'footnote' explaining a bit about the
Huk Rebelion.
Nice chapter! Well, except for the typos and some of my other comments,
it's pretty good. Keep up the good work!
And thank YOU for the C&C. I also now see why I didn't get any comments
earlier... I sent your pre-copy to the wrong domain: aerolbj@epic.net (Elsa
Bibat). I wonder if I'd get more C&C if I added more cameos... Na, doubt
it, as no one else from the FFML mentioned by pen name or otherwise has said
anything. I think I got everything you've mentioned, here is the revised
TotW 2-4
--
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..." -- Doc' (As Rabid).
-- Attached file included as plaintext by Listar --
-- File: totw2_4f.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 characters 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 4: Responses
"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.
"Freeze this." Lisa Hayes' voice cut through the darkened
briefing room. The image on the screen obligingly froze, and the
lights came up to about half brightness. Around the U-shaped
briefing table were most of the department heads aboard the SDF-1,
with Claudia Grant seated in the center of the room, the subject
of the inquiry. Lisa turned to her fellow bridge officer and friend,
trying her best to keep her voice cool and professional. "Lieutenant
Commander Grant, what exactly were you thinking about when you did
this?"
Claudia looked from the briefing room screen into her friends
eyes, and then to the assembled officers. Lisa recognized the
haunted look of loss there, one she herself had seen in the mirror
in the weeks following her confirmation of Karl Riber's death.
Claudia's voice was weak but unwavering as she directed her answer
to her fellow department heads. "To be honest, Commander, I wasn't
thinking at all at this point. Commander Fokker had... " Claudia's
voice broke for a moment, but she took a deep breath and continued
in a slightly stronger tone. "Commander Fokker had just been
declared dead about an hour before, and I had just come to terms with
the initial grief. Then the prisoner's statement sent me into a
total state of shock. There was no way he could have known what
happened, and yet he was apologizing for it. I would have to state
that I wasn't thinking at all, I just reacted." Claudia's eyes
dropped to the table she was seated at as she finished her statement.
"With this result," Lisa finished for Claudia, then turned her
attention to the young yeoman manning the playback controls. "Play
the next section at ten to one reduction, no sound."
The briefing room obligingly darkened again and the image on the
large screen behind Claudia again began to move. In response to the
sudden threat, the prisoner in hospital dress handcuffed to the chair
began to change. Even at a ten to one reduction in playback speed,
it lasted less than ten seconds. The prisoner pushed the chair
backwards, and his skin took on a silvery hue, starting from his
extremities and moving to the center of his body mass, absorbing
the clothes encountered on the way. The handcuff that secured the
prisoner to the chair popped open, its lock shattered. The prisoner
then leaped into a backward somersault, its form changing from that
of an almost human to another that was readily familiar to the
assembled officers. In less than a second of real time, the
'prisoner' had landed on its feet, but now looked almost exactly
like one of the SDF-1's Veritech fighters, complete to the gun held
in its hands and pointed at Lt. Cmdr. Grant.
"Freeze here," Lisa again ordered, but this time the briefing
room remained darkened. "As you all can see, at this point the
prisoner superficially resembles one of our own Veritech fighters.
There are however, several critical differences. First, none of our
fighter squadrons use this green on black color scheme. More
important are these back-mounted modules here, the underarm pods
here, and the leg pods here. Again, none of our Veritechs are
configured like this. Also, remember that even fully transformed,
this person stands approximately six feet tall, or 1/7th the size of
a Veritech." Lisa again turned to the video tech. "Play the rest."
As Captain Gloval watched the remaining seconds of video play
out, he was struck by two facts. The first was that it seemed like
while one hand was trying to point the... the... thing's weapon on
Claudia and the guards, the other was trying to point the gun AWAY
from them. The fact that this thing was pleading with Claudia to put
the gun down before something rash happened was co-incidental,
at best. That the prisoner returned to his human form and allowed
himself to be handcuffed after the MP regained control of his weapon
from Claudia was the second. He allowed his gaze to sweep over his
senior officers as the lighting in the briefing room returned too
normal. "Comments, Gentlemen?" He asked.
The briefing room erupted into a quiet rooba-rooba of subdued
conversation for a few seconds before Col. Maistroff spoke up. "Sir,
I think the video recording makes my case totally. Cmdr. Grant is
presently NOT fit either for duty or to head up this investigation
due to her feelings in regards to the loss of Cmdr. Fokker. In
addition, whatever that thing is could ONLY be some sort of enemy
spy, carefully crafted to try and infiltrate the SDF-1 without being
noticed. We're just lucky that they didn't get it right!"
"With all due respect," Dr Hassan countered from the other side
of the briefing table, "I have to disagree. Perhaps Cmdr. Grant's
actions were a bit out of hand, but given how close this incident
came after Cmdr. Fokker's death I believe it was a natural reaction,
and does not indicate that her loss WILL affect her ability to
perform her duties. As to our 'guest', if you had bothered to look
at the results of the tests we performed while he was unconscious,
you'd notice that he is well within human norms! Given that the
Zentraedi never even laid eyes on us until their fleet arrived here
at earth, your claims are unfounded at best!"
"HA!" the Major in charge of the Civil Defense teams snorted.
"How can you say that when we've never even captured an enemy soldier
to do any studies on?"
"That is enough," Gloval noted in his command tone, cutting
off Dr. Hassan's imminent reply. "I think that covers the territory
that is pertinent to this discussion. Dr. Lang, Do you have an
opinion on this matter?"
"Ja, Captain. I was able to take some readings while the
prisoner was still unconscious. Most of them did not indicate
anything out of the ordinary. However, the prisoner does seem to be
generating some sort of low-level field similar to that put out by
our space fold engines before they vanished. In addition, the
vehicle in which the prisoner was found also exhibits similar
readings, of a more residual level. If the prisoner was intended
to be some sort of spy, then the level of Robotechnology
that would have to have been used to create him is far beyond
anything that the Zentraedi have yet exhibited. In addition to this,
the lack of maintenance exhibited aboard the Zentraedi ships during
Cmdr. Hayes' captivity would only confirm this belief. Given these
facts, the only conclusion I can come to is that the prisoner is not
from anywhere in our universe."
Gloval steepled his fingers in thought as the shockwave of that
pronouncement silenced the entire room. For a long moment the hum of
the air circulation equipment was the only sound in the large room
as the assembled officers grappled with that impossibility.
Spying Maistroff about to say something, Gloval spoke up, cutting
the Colonel off. "Thank you, Dr. Lang. Given these facts, I can
only make one decision. Commander Grant, I find that your actions
were, in fact, a result of emotional distress caused by Cmdr.
Fokker's death. Because of this you will not be charged with any
wrongdoing. You will, however, be placed on three days leave in
order to allow you to come to terms with it. Because of this, I am
placing Dr. Lang in charge of the investigation of this whatever
it is. Col. Maistroff, you will remand this person into Dr. Lang's
custody at Dr. Lang's convenience. This meeting is hearby
adjourned."
* * * * * * * * *
There was no mistaking the person who waited for him in the
interview room of the brig. Although he could remember no scenes
with Dr. Emil Lang in the series, the unearthliness of those totally
black eyes clearly identified him. "Dr. Lang, I presume," Micheal
noted with his best British accent, trying to lighten the mood.
"It appears you have the better of me then sir, unless you
actually are Lt. Commander Micheal Thunders, USN," Lang countered
in a flat and expressionless voice. Micheal fought to keep his skin
from crawling at the alienness of it as he replied.
"So that's who I am here. No, Doctor, I am not. Where I come
from I was a Captain in the USAF before I retired."
"Where do you come from then?" Lang pressed.
"Earth, but not this earth. One which exists in a parallel
fica, or dimension. One where all this," Micheal waved his hands
in a sweeping gesture meant to include everything around him, "was
a cartoon for children about fifteen years ago. One in which there
is a very small percentage of the people who can do THIS." With
that, Micheal shimmered into his Star Ranger form, holding it for
about a moment before returning to his human one.
"I see." Even after the demonstration, neither Lang's voice
or his face showed any change of expression. "They can assume the
form of cartoon characters."
"No, they have abilities 'Far beyond those of normal men'"
Micheal replied. "Some of us use them to enrich themselves at others
expense, while the rest of us try to defend the helpless from them.
You know, like the old superman cartoons? Stopping villains,
saving people from natural disasters, those sort of things?"
"I see. And you've decided to just 'drop by' and help us with
the Zentraedi threat?"
"Nooooot exactly," Micheal admitted slowly.
"Then how is it you happen to be here?" Lang continued to press.
"Because I'm a perfect example of why you don't let people play
with teleporters." Lang did not reply, but his raised eyebrow
clearly indicated that an explanation was desired. "After I got out
of the Air Force, I went back to school. I was able to secure a
grant to study the effectiveness of teleportation as a way of moving
troops around. The problem was, I needed to prove my theory or loose
funding, so I stepped into the prototype and set the arrival
co-ordinates to that of my boss' lab. The problem was that I
'arrived' at the very spot that she was using to demonstrate
HER present research project, a robotic probe. As a result, I became
this;" once more Micheal shifted into his Star Ranger form. "And
once that happened, I was done in research. In fact, the only real
job opening for me after that was as a superhero. And that is how I
wound up trying to stop a mad scientist who was also using
teleportation to try and dominate the world. The problem is that in
stopping him, I damaged his equipment. The resulting explosion
blew me out of my home dimension, and I'm actually just trying to get
home." Micheal returned once more to his human form and sat down.
"So the explosion is what brought you here."
"Again, not exactly. I wound up in another Fica than this one.
They helped me build FRED, and since then we've been jumping from
dimension to dimension trying to get me back home."
"Fred would be the car you were discovered in?"
"Actually, Fred would be the AI that controls the car as well
as the portal sensors and generators mounted in it. Without him, I'm
going to be a permanent resident of Macross City."
* * * * * * * * *
Gloval sat back and busied himself with the ritual of filling
and lighting his pipe as the rest of the recording played out
un-noticed on his desktop terminal. He used the delay while he got
the pipe to draw smoothly to organize his thoughts before turning
back to face the SDF-1's chief engineer. "And you want to allow his
request for access to his vehicle, Lang?"
"Ja, Captain. I see no reason to believe Col. Maistroff's
allegations. If this person was a spy, I do not believe he would
claim that he was an accidental visitor from another dimension.
He in fact seems most interested in seeing if his vehicle is capable
of allowing him to leave here as soon as possible instead. A spy
would want to be trusted and allowed to snoop around gathering
whatever data his masters had sent him after, not to leave as soon
as possible."
"And you believe his claims that his information comes from
seeing a cartoon when he was a teen?" It was now Gloval's turn to
press; though Lang had never been known to lie or previcate since
the jolt he had taken in the first exploration of the SDF-1.
"Ja. He knows things that no spy, however carefully briefed,
could know. Things that even I didn't know until I asked Cmdr. Hayes
about them." (1)
Gloval did not reply, instead leaning back his chair and looking
at the overhead of his cabin as he smoked and thought. The pipe was
nearly finished by the time that Gloval again returned his gaze to
Lang, but the look in his eyes was one who had come to a decision.
"Very well, Lang. If our visitor is willing to let you and your
experts look under the hood and confirm that there is no Zentraedi
technology there, you can allow him access to his vehicle."
* * * * * * * * *
Micheal looked at the assembled members of Tiger Team 9 in their
protective suits and sighed. (2) Turning back to Lang, he asked,
"Do they really need all that gear? If Fred's damaged, either the
fail-safes kicked in or he would have blown sky high long ago.
According to what you've said, it's been almost a week since I
arrived." To emphasize the point, neither he nor Lang wore a similar
suit. Lang simply returned his gaze, neither replying nor ordering
TT9 out of their suits. It wasn't until Micheal sighed and looked
away in an obvious gesture of acceptance that Lang signaled for the
hatch to be opened. And it wasn't until Lang received the all clear
that he and Micheal entered.
"Damage report, Fred" Micheal asked as soon as he was through
the door. The only response was a single beep of the horn, and a
couple of members of TT9 snickered into their suit comms. Micheal
himself scowled, but addressed FRED again. "Fine, be that way.
Authentication code Klatu Vertu Est, you obstinate hunk of steel."
Behind Micheal, PS1 Milo Wassermann was about to start chewing
on someone's backside for breaking comm discipline when the sound
of unlocking doors turned his attention back to the car that had so
far resisted their attempts to enter. And he felt his own jaw drop
as the car ANSWERED the stranger who had addressed it. Granted,
machines that talked back were not exactly a novelty here on the
SDF-1, but most of them were idiots, capable of understanding
and responding only to a limited set of verbal cues... and not always
reliably at that. The voice that answered sounded every bit as human
as a fellow member of TT9, and seemed quite capable of understanding
complex statements!
"Of course I'm obstinate. I'm a machine... and there wasn't
any way for ME to know it was really you without the code, Muck.
Don't blame me, you're the one who implemented that security feature,
remember?"
"Later, Fred. Right now I need a damage report. And open the
hood, please."
As Fred's hood popped open without being touched, he continued
to report his ills in that same rich baritone. "CPU systems OK.
Reactor on-line and nominal. Portal generator nominal. Portal
sensors damaged, box A-31 is not answering to diagnostic queries.
Drive system damaged, Probable loss of right front wheel and drive
motor. Numerous personal effects containers out of position in the
load-bed."
After hearing the damage report, Micheal forgot about the others
in the compartment and was around in front of the vehicle in a flash.
"Front right wheel assembly is totally gone alright, FRED. I'm sure
we can fabricate a replacement out of local parts though." Micheal
stuck his head under the hood, not noticing as Lang and the members
of TT9 gathered around him and peered at the strange equipment
found there. A single look into Lang's normally inscrutable
face convinced PM1 Wassermann that even the ships robotechnology
miracle worker hadn't seen anything like this sort of gear before.
Under their scrutiny Micheal continued unfazed. Reaching
around the equipment, he wiggled something, then spoke again. "The
connector was knocked out in the crash. Try it now, FRED."
"I have telemetry from A-31 again, but I'm still getting
negative responses from cards A-31-22 and 23, Muck."
"Vas is this Muck?" Lang asked from next to Micheal, snapping
his attention back to who was there with him.
"It was my call sign back when I was a zoomie. I flew A-12
Thunderbolts; an upgrade of the A-10 Warthog. I was the best in my
wing at air to ground tactics, so was dubbed Muck cause I was the
best at getting down in the muck." Micheal straightened up and
looked around at the still suited members of TT9. "I need to get
that box open. Would someone hand me a number 1 Philips-head?"
"Just what are we looking at, Mr. Thunders?" Lang inquired
as the requested screwdriver was produced.
"That big black box along the back of the engine compartment
is Fred's CPU and primary storage. Forward of that is the main
reactor, and forward of that is the dimensional portal generator,
with the dimensional sensor clusters behind each headlight array,"
Micheal replied as he took the screwdriver and stuck his head back
down into the array of unusual equipment. A moment later he cursed
and spoke up. "A-22-C3 is blown out, and A-22-M1 and A-23-M9 are
shattered, Fred. Are those what I think they are?"
"Both M parts are red-flagged. We're not going anywhere till
you can find or make replacements."
Muck pulled himself out from under the hood, not noticing
that the members of TT9 moved in to fill the spot he had just
vacated. He slumped down to the deck, bracing his back against
the bulkhead. "Fred, we are in serious trouble..."
* * * * * * * * *
Gloval gazed across his desk at his chief engineer and the
redheaded stranger still in a prison coverall. Beside him, his pipe
still burned, ignored for the moment. "Absolutely not. This is a
warship, not a place for civilians. As much as I sympathize
with Mr. Thunders plight, he will be going ashore with the rest of
the inhabitants of Macross City once we find someplace that will take
them."
"It won't work, Captain," Micheal replied softly, stopping
Gloval's hand halfway to the pipe. "Ontario sector is going to
change it's mind." Unfazed by the icy glare he received from Gloval,
he continued undaunted. "As a result of a Zentraedi attack, a good
section of Ontario sector is going to be devastated and they will
rescind their invitation to accept the civilians of Macross."
"Because you saw that episode of the show," Gloval noted his
voice cold and hard. "Regardless of your supposed knowledge,
I am still the captain of this ship and responsible for the safety
of all aboard. My decision stands. Mr. Thunders, you will wait
outside while I discuss your disposition with Dr. Lang." Micheal
started to open his mouth to protest, but Gloval cut him off before
he could say a word. "This discussion is over. Say one more word
and I will have you returned to the brig in irons!"
Micheal slowly closed his mouth and departed the cabin without
another word. Once the door had closed behind Micheal, Gloval picked
up his pipe and took a long draw. As he exhaled, he returned his
gaze to his chief engineer. "You're certain about your findings?"
"Ja, Captain. All the components we have looked at are either
duplicates to our own, or nothing we have ever seen before.
Everything points to his being exactly what he claims."
Gloval pondered that as he finished his pipe. This stranger
was correct in frightening detail... He was in negotiations
with the Ontario sector and had just about reached an agreement
with them. But no one outside of his bridge crew even knew he had
been talking with the officials of Ontario, and here this person
had just said that they were doomed to fail. Still, it gave him a
way to prove or disprove this Micheal Thunders' claims. "Go ahead
and release him from custody, Lang. Get him quarters in the city,
but don't let him wander around alone. Assign someone as a guide...
and to make sure that he doesn't go poking around in things he
shouldn't."
"Ja, Captain. And his vehicle?"
"He can remove his personal effects, but other than that it
remains impounded until he goes ashore."
"Ja, Captain."
* * * * * * * * *
HM1 (3) Elsa Bibat stepped through the hatch as the MP waved
her through and stopped in amazement. As a member of the Civil
defense teams aboard the SDF-1, she had seen many things, but a grown
man guarded by an MP while crying over a broken coffeepot was a new
one to her. (4) Even her days as an anti-Huk rebel hadn't prepared
her for it. (5) The man in question was about a head taller than she
was, with red hair cropped short on top and a small collar length
ponytail in back. A loud floral print shirt and jeans covered his
frame, not allowing her to determine his build accurately. Still,
the image of this man in three quarters profile cradling a shattered
coffee carafe like it was a child brought giggles to her for years
to come, just as it had the first time she had seen him. At the
sound of her voice, he turned, revealing green eyes and a comical
red mustache. Fortunately, his gaze reminded her of exactly what her
assignment was, and she banished the giggles and squared herself
into attention. "Petty officer Bibat, sir. I'll be your guide
during your time in Macross City."
He gazed at her for a long second, and she knew he was examining
her. She wondered just what he thought of her warm brown eyes and
dark hair, along with her trim but still feminine form in its duty
jumpsuit. She had survived her years as a rebel by being able to
read the emotions in a man's eyes as he looked at her, yet she wasn't
able to read his. Elsa wasn't sure if this was a good or bad thing
when her charge sighed and broke eye contact, turning to drop the
remains of the coffeepot in a nearby wastebasket. "And I'm Micheal
Thunders. This is my other keeper, Og," he noted, inclining his head
to indicate the MP watching him with a level gaze.
"Corporal Bailesu (6) has a name, sir. Its right there on his
uniform," Elsa noted in an attempt to be polite.
"As does Corporal Hosmer outside the door, Petty officer Bibat.
But talking to them is like talking to a brick wall. Worst damn
conversationalists I've ever met." Micheal returned to the open back
of the Humvee in the compartment and removed two large black boxes
similar to the ammo cans Elsa used to hide for her fellow rebels.
He opened both and showed the contents to Corp. Bailesu who nodded
slightly, and Micheal added them to the small pile of similar
containers stacked outside the vehicle. "Well, that's the last of
it," he sighed. "Do you have a first name, Corpsman Bibat?"
"Elsa is fine, sir," she replied as he managed to pick up four
of the cases at once and looked at her expectantly.
"And please, drop the sir, Elsa. Just call me Muck," he replied
as Elsa grabbed two of the remaining cases and indicated for Corp.
Bailesu to grab the remaining case and the coffeemaker that no longer
had a carafe.
"All right, 'Muck'. I have a vehicle outside to take us to your
new quarters. If you'll come with me, please?"
To be continued...
--------------------
(1) If you're wondering,
he mentioned the 'Mr. Lingerie' incident as well as the real
motivation behind Lisa's actions at Mars Base.
(2) Once again, Tiger Team 9 is the property of Jamie Wilde, and
first appeared in his story "Snipes in Wonderland". They were
supposed to appear by permission, but when I sent their scenes to him
for comment, he never got back to me.
(3) Hospital Corpsman First Class, Also Elsa appears courtesy of
herself...
(4) See Tales of the Wanderer: Book 1 at my web-site to better
understand the Wanderer's travails when it comes to coffee makers.
(5) Excerpt from "Governments of the Global Civil War" Russo; 2010:
Huk Government: A band of military officers and pirates who formed
a coalition that overthrew the democratically elected government
of the Phillipines early in the Civil War. At first, they were
praised as saviors of the country, but later the government decended
into tyranny and petty despotism. Their first act of tyranny was the
summary arrest and execution of several members of a group of
activists who called for free elections. The surviving members
went underground and formed a rebel group dedicated to bringing
the government down and replacing it with a democratically
elected one. These rebels fought an uphill battle for the remainder
of the civil war; the Huk government was not toppled until shortly
after the crash of the SDF-1.
(6) Bailesu and J. Hosmer are both members in good standing of the
FFML... I couldn't resist the thought of using them as MP's ^_^