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About time I got to this too. Only over a month overdue:
Okay, I think I've figured out what's wrong. File size problem.
I'll try again in two parts.
I changed some of the background details in this episode to
better conform to the chronology that I'll post later. Seems
that Col Stuart has been in the service for 23 years instead of
20. Oh, and Leonard is not yet Supreme Commander. He's
just the Commander of the ASC. I'll retrofit the earlier chapters
to reflect this.
Yep. One of the trials and tribulations of a work in progress. Did the same
thing in one of mine and had to adjust the timeline as appropriate.
- Greg
(BTW, Merry Christmas)
Heh. Back at you, even if it is late.
Colonel Stuart was surprised to see lights on in his
headquarters office when he arrived at 0700.
Oh? I wouldn't think its all that early.
Pulling into his
marked parking place, he squinted at the windows of the building
in hopes of detecting just who was in his headquarters.
He waited several seconds, until certain there was no
movement inside,
That part seem awkward. 'until he was certain' perhaps?
before cautiously exiting his rover and
approaching the steps. Every fibre of his body was alert and
prepared for an ambush. This was wrong. No one was supposed to
be in the building.
Creeping up the steps, he detected the faint sound of music
playing inside. Music? Could someone have left a radio playing
all night?
Could be the party is still going on.
His hand gripped the door knob. a
A
gentle test confirmed it
was unlocked and turned freely. With a frown, he pushed open the
door, expecting an attack at any moment.
Really? Why? Whoever the intruder is they sure aren't making any attempt at
hiding their presense. Not that he should not be on guard, just that an
attack seems unlikely.
Cautiously, he stepped inside, his eyes taking in every
detail in the room. The hissing sound of water running in the
bathroom was odd. Perhaps someone was taking a shower.
With a sigh, he shook his head. That was silly. Why would
anyone break into his headquarters to use a shower?
Because they were dirty and didn't have one of their own? ^_^
To his surprise, the door to the office along the back wall
closest to him swung open and Ona Parino stepped out wearing a
towel that barely covered her body, her long legs drawing most of
his attention.
"Morning, sir," she said as if walking through the building
wearing only a towel that barely covered her body was a normal,
everyday occurrence.
And if it wasn't, by god, Jeff would pass down an order to make it so.
"Left the water running at just the right temperature," she
chirped. Ona nodded and went inside the bath, closing the door
behind her. Cindy noticed the Colonel and smiled. "A water main
broke last night and the barracks was without water this morning.
We thought we'd just come in early and see if the water was on
here. Looks like we were lucky. Good thing we're so far out
from the rest of the base, huh?"
Guess he can expect more company later then.
Jeff smiled incredulously and nodded, noting that she was
dripping on his formerly spotless floor. He also noticed that
her bath towel covered a lot more of her anatomy than did Ona's.
Well, she has a lot less anatomy to cover.
"Oh, that," Cindy answered with a giggle. "Gloria's
roommate is General Emerson's secretary. She got one for us. We
figured that since we're usually here before you, there's no
reason for us to stand in the parking lot." She added a frown
before noting: "It's not safe for two women to be standing alone
in the darkness."
Not safe for anyone harrassing them, she means, since one is a Zentraedi. :)
Jeff resisted making a face. He couldn't imagine in a more
being in
He'd just begun going over his schedule for the day in his
head when Cindy called in an off-hand manner: "Your first
appointment is 0800."
Right. Like an hour is all she'll need to put make-up on maker herself
'presentable'. She's a woman, after all. Two at the minimum.
He nodded and continued walking.
"It's with Lt Cook-Lynn, sir."
That caused him to stop and look her way. "Who --?"
"You remember, Maj Vera's girlfriend."
"Oh, yes, of course."
"I slept with her once," Jeff recalled.
"Your signature stamp won't be here until next week."
"Meaning?"
"You'll have to continue signing everything by hand."
"Damn."
The most important piece of equipment any CO needs and they still don't
have it. :)
The sound of someone slamming open the front door caused him
to pause, looking over his shoulder.
"You!" an attractive, dark-haired young lady dressed in a
rumpled version of a cowgirl outfit growled at him. "Are you in
charge of this band of pirates?"
I really hope for her sake she's not military or outranks him.
Jeff felt the urge to toss this interloper out the front
door and try to forget this happened but his sense of command
dignity precluded such physical responses - but just barely.
"The water is off at Grant Barracks."
"I wouldn't know," the woman snarled. "I slept in the back
seat of a car."
Jeff: Obviously you haven't been given the proper training in what you use
the backseat of a car for. Hint: sleep is not it.
"And you obviously woke up crabby." He gestured towards his
office. "Why don't we finish this discussion in my little garage
over here."
here?" (Unless he's making it an order)
With another glance at Cindy, the newcomer stomped past Jeff
and into his office. Cindy scowled at the woman with all the
dignity a person wearing a towel in the middle of an office could
muster. Jeff took a deep breath and turned to follow. It was
entirely too early for this crap.
When is it ever a good time for crap such as this?
Liz blinked a couple of times before frowning at the desk.
"I remember a fight in The Big MAC, then I was running. There
were sirens. a
A
"So now you want to back out," Jeff said with a sly grin.
Well, she was tricked into signing them, though I think it's a safe
assumption she won't want out in another minute.
Liz's face twitched again, her hand slowly recovering from
the phone. "I'm... just... a little overdue."
I should say so.
Crazy - Sgt Turner, my wingman
Heh. Such cute nicknames people earn. I remember such fun ones from people I
knew in my academy days. Lawdog. Rainman. Wingnut (The most appropriate,
should have seen the ears that stuck out from his bald head) Shiny. Bitch.
Zit. etc I don't know as anyone had a real name by the end of things. ^_^
"I tried to warn Crazy to follow me out but the first volley
of missiles..." She paused again, her head tilting forward until
it came to rest against the glass window. Her voice dropped to
barely a whisper. "He just blew up."
Jeff closed his eyes imagining what it must have been like.
He'd lost wingmen himself, many he had come to like very much.
Many? Well now that's reassuring. :)
contradictions. There were none he could see. Just a dedicated
flight leader hung out to twist in the wind by her despicable CO.
CO obviously has leadership potential in ASC written all overhim. :)
"Like Captain Fox?"
"She's the Executive Officer."
"And the others?"
"Young, inexperienced, and... female." The last word stuck
in his throat like a dagger. He still was having trouble
accepting the fact that the RDF was down to their last option;
women pilots.
More like all women pilots.
"I'm sure you'd feel more comfortable."
Liz took a deep breath and sighed heavily. "I just don't
know if I can do it anymore. After what happened..."
"I'll never abandon you, Captain," was all he said. The way
he said it caused her to gaze hopefully into his eyes.
Methinks there will come a point where this will come up.
"Oh, and Captain Lynn is giving the Rehab Detachment hell
over the delay in delivery of our Veritechs. They said something
about a small change in plans but Gail.. I mean, Captain Lynn
says it's just a minor detail."
She just needs to come onto a few of the officers to get them to roll over
for her.
As one of the last graduates of both the RDF Academy and the
Veritech Flight School, she was the embodiment of the desperation
the service had come to. Her record was undistinguished with
only acceptable ratings all the way back to flight school. There
was a brief list of operational mission hours and no mention of
combat training or even flights in a combat zone. In fact,
despite her five years of service, she appeared to have about as
much real Veritech flying experience as he'd expect a raw
recruit.
Unusual.
He fought a pang of guilt over his previous thoughts
concerning women pilots. a few weeks ago, under the same
conditions, he might have done exactly the same thing as
Vermillion Squadron's CO.
He was that bad, eh?
Outside, the entire squadron watched in excited little knots
as a small convoy of aircraft tugs pulled a line of six Veritechs
towards the squadron's flight line. Excited voices exchanged
hushed conversations as the convoy drew nearer. Those
conversations died off completely when they got a better look at
what was being delivered.
Stunned silence greeted the tugs as they pulled each fighter
into its parking place. The last hobbled in on a flat nose wheel
tire.
Now that's bad.
Gail stared at the papers, her control slipping with every
heartbeat. "Honey, I'm not signing for these... these... rejects
from a junkyard."
The lieutenant just shrugged and looked past her. "Okay,
where's your CO?"
"He's not signing for them either." Gail gave every
indication of her intent to beat six new fighters out of the
unshakeable lieutenant.
Methinks she's going to lose this one.
Inside, he paused. Taking in every detail of the empty main
room, he felt himself give in to his depression. This wasn't
right. He'd always gotten the best material support when he took
over a squadron. Sure, he'd often had to do with less than he
felt the job required but he never got the feeling that he was
fighting both the enemy *and* the RDF. Something had changed.
Something he couldn't identify.
He's being screwed over?
Jeff stared at the phone. "Gone? Why?"
"Not sure, sir. But the rumor is that the General Council
of the United World Government is going to appoint General
Leonard as supreme commander."
I see. This is what you needed the change for.
"Those the ASC will take," Jeff corrected. He knew what
this meant. Leonard was making his move, consolidating his
power. He must have the necessary council votes to have the ASC
declared the sole military arm of the new government. That would
only escalate the animosity of the various city-states in this
sector. None felt comfortable with the overly-aggressive
newcomers who used a heavy hand when dealing with dissent. It
might even spur the EBSIS and Chinese to unite. This was not
good.
Nope. Not at all.
"You think we've been sabotaged?" she gasped, her eyes
reflecting the betrayal she felt.
Jeff shrugged. Taking a deep breath, he exhaled hard.
"Directly? No. I don't believe in conspiracies."
An unhealthy attitude. There are such things, but thankfully they are very
rare.
"What about General Emerson? Surely *he* knows what's going
on."
Jeff shook his head. "He got called to Monument City.
Rumor is they're going to promote Leonard to Supreme Commander."
"That toad?" Gail snarled. "His solution to everything is
to kill them all and let God sort it out. He makes Khyron look
reasonable."
No. Nothing makes Khyron look reasonable. :)
"I know," Jeff said with a sigh. "I've been afraid of this
for some time. Leonard, whatever we may think of him, is a good
politician.
Yes. As I recall it was him and some other politician who took the reins of
power with the absence of the REF.
"The girls?" Gail chided as she followed.
"Okay, the rest of the squadron," Jeff corrected.
"That's better."
"That are composed solely of girls," he threw in.
They made their way back out to the hangar. All the way,
Gail kept mumbling
Just used 'way,' in the previous sentence. perhaps, 'During the entire time
Gail kept...' or something.
Jeff knew they were behind schedule for just about everything;
especially the training of new pilots. But he also knew that the
key to getting back on schedule was getting flyable Veritechs.
Those are useful when composing flying squadrons.
He paused to gauge their reaction. Despite the few who
looked angry, they appeared to be receptive to his declaration of
continued effort. In fact, they appeared down right
downright ( I think it's one word)
"But sir, what about the one with the flat tire?"
"Improvise," Jeff growled, a little stronger than he meant.
Chastising himself for being so hard on 'girls',
Nah. They're soldiers and will go through worse than that and need to take
it.
to himself. She was growing into the Executive Officer position
quite well. Learning how to lead takes time. Some never get it
right. Katherine, however, appeared to take to the role with
ease.
Had a feeling she would.
They were halfway across base in Jeff's rover before Gail
rolled her head his way and asked: "Just what do you hope to
accomplish at the Rehab Detachment?"
"Steve Friedman is an old friend of mine. We taught at the
academy together. If anyone knows what's going on, it'll be
him."
Gail eyed Jeff critically. "Can you trust him?"
Jeff gave her a sly wink. "I should hope so. I've slept with him on numerous
occasions."
The Rehab Detachment was located on an even more remote part
of the base than 13 Squadron. If it wasn't for the faded signs
pointing the way, they might have missed it altogether.
Turning onto a well-used gravel road flanked by tall weeds,
they soon came upon what would in better times have been called a
junk yard.
junkyard
"If those six rolling pieces of junk you had delivered are
your idea of a joke, I'll reconsider but only after you give me
the six I was promised." Jeff stepped a little closer and was
rewarded by Steve's backward retreat.
"You gotta let me explain," Steve said waving his hands back
and forth in front of him.
That's a bad sign. Still making excuses.
"Better make it fast. You're running out of room." Jeff
walked a little faster, like he was actually going to attack his
old friend. The two mechanics dropped the parts they were
working on and backed away.
Heh. Obviously if they were loyal they would have picked up big tools and
drawn nearer.
"Okay, you had to fill an emergency request," Jeff said with
a shrug. "Where's mine?"
In Austrailia. :)
With a heavy sigh, he slumped back into his chair. "Good.
Now we can talk freely."
Gail eyed the box with its sequencing lights. "What is that
thing?"
Obviously a bit slow on the uptake.
"A scrambler. It detects the frequencies of a bug and
matches its exact frequency sequence, rendering the device
useless," Steve answered with a tired smile. "Five thousand
credits on the black market."
"You've been dealing on the black market?" Gail gasped.
"Honey, I am the black market," Steve assured her.
"Curious thing about that. After they took off, we tracked
them." Steve said leaning over the desk to look Jeff in the eyes.
"They flew north."
"Funny way to get to Australia."
Nah. It just takes longer that way. :)
"I'll say." Steve rocked back in his massive seat. "What's
even more interesting is the request didn't come through normal
channels."
"Then where did it come from?"
Steve chuckled. "I had Tommy trace all the network jumps
Line break there for some odd reason.
Jeff rocked back in his seat and rubbed his face. "And I
thought all we'd have to deal with was the militant Yorkies,
renegade Zentraedi, and the odd high-tech bandit."
That just means it makes things fun.
Casting an unsure glance at Gail, Jeff cleared his throat
and asked: "Are they flyable?"
"Flyable? Jeff old buddy, they're better than new. Plus, I
dropped in a few modifications of my own.
Heh. Get a good mechanic that knows how to modifiy properly, and you can get
a better than new line model all right.
Nothing special, just
targeting computers intended for the new VF-4 that got shipped
here by mistake
Good man. Keep all the shipping mistakes and complain when they don't give
you waht you ordered.
Jeff's low whistle caused the Rehab Detachment master to bob
his eyebrows. "That would make it possible to stop in mid-flight
and turn on a dime."
"And give you a nickel change," Steve added with a satisfied
look.
Saw that line coming.
"Why are you doing this?" Gail asked suspiciously.
"Simple. I don't like what's happening to the RDF, I know
your Colonel will make good use of them, and..." He paused to
take a deep breath. "I've got a feeling we're not going to be
around much longer. I don't fly Veritechs and I certainly don't
want the ASC to get their hands on them."
Besides, Leonard will want all new designs for military vehicles to show
he's in charge of the 'new' military.
"What about serial numbers? I have to account where I got
them from," Jeff asked.
"Why do you think I sent those wrecks over this morning?
Just take the numbers off of four of them and paint 'em on the
four from Lone Rock and leave the wrecks behind in your hangar
when you move.
Heh. Very nice.
"Naw, they're too comfortable working for me," Steve
answered before his face lit up with a big smile. "Hey, are you
still looking for pilots?"
Heh. And thus he'll get another.
"Now, I know you probably don't want a girl pilot in your
squadron
I think having Jeff glare it him here would be appropriate.
"I can handle that," Jeff answered with a look towards Gail.
"There's also one other little thing," Steve said, leaning
in closer and looking around like he didn't exactly want to be
overheard. "Now, you know I'm not into all this 'ethnicity'
business. Heck, who am I to judge. I've got a Jewish father and
an African mother.
Both of which were born in Antarctica.
But I gotta warn you she's one of them native
girls from out east."
"East?" Gail asked.
"Yeah. Far East. I'm taking about China here." Steve clarified.
Steve was certainly correct when he called her young. She
looked like a pre-war junior high school student. Wearing a
flight suit two sizes too large for her slender body, she clomped
towards them in boots that made her feet look big. Her dark
hair, streaked dirty blonde, was restrained in a pony tail and
further bound by a soiled white headband. a set of headphones
connected to a new-looking CD player hugged her ears. As she
walked, her head bobbed in time to the music coming from a CD
player connected to her flightsuit webbing and her jaw worked an
oversized wad of gum.
Methinks she needs broken in a bit more.
The girl, still mulling over what all this meant, shrugged
without looking up. "'Kay." Slipping the headphones back on her
head, she slowly slid between Steve and the others, heading
towards the Rehab Detachment's locker room; her head bobbing with
every step.
"Interesting girl," Jeff said, once the shock had worn off
at seeing such a non-military person in uniform. She was even
worse than Gloria.
"Yeah, I know. She's not very regulation," Steve said
apologetically.
"She's not even 'optional issue',"
Heh. Good line.
"She was kinda like a prize in a box of Cracker Jacks,"
Steve said, rubbing the back of his head. "A couple of years
ago, we picked up an old abandoned MAC II up north. When we
cracked open the crew compartment, there she was. As near as we
could tell, she'd been living in it."
I see.
"So why is she still here?" Gail asked.
"That's even a stranger story. At first, I was just going
to toss her off base. You know, unauthorized civilian and all
that. Well, she begged to stay, saying she had nowhere else to
go. Made it real convincing. Since it was the dead of winter.
What could I do?"
Oh dear.
"How long did that last?" Jeff asked.
"Till someone from HQ caught wind of it. He turned out to
be a good guy, though. Had her enlist as a Corporal - you know,
under those old RDF field enlistment rules." Steve beamed.
Heh. Clever.
"Well, that explains the mini-CD player," Jeff said with a
sigh. "How did she learn to fly?"
"That was the easy part," Steve replied. "You remember ole'
Earl 'Tex' Boyd?"
Oh. A 'Tex'. Those are always bad news. :)
"Yeah, he was a flight leader in Gold Squadron up in the
Yukon somewhere." Jeff got a warm feeling hearing the late
Texan's name. They had more than a few rowdy nights together in
local bars when they both flew for Tiger Squadron. The man was a
rare combination of brains and brawn marred only by a hair
trigger to insults about his part of the country. Drinking only
made him more volatile.
Well it rarely makes a person more stable.
The man flew in cowboy boots and kept a
Stetson in the cockpit to wear while taxing in from a mission. a
A
I don't think you capitalized a single 'A' at the start of a sentence in
this fic.
real character.
You got that right, pahdner :)
Jeff looked at Gail before asking what it was but their
chubby little host had already disappeared into one of the
massive hangars.
"What do you suppose he's up to?" Gail asked, squinting into
the hangar's interior.
"Who knows?" Jeff answered with a shrug. "He's always
finding odd little trinkets and stuff. Three years ago, he found
Jennifer's flight helmet in a box of stuff they were going to
recycle. Gave it to me for Christmas."
Heh
"Quite a guy," Gail said softly.
"His whole life is the RDF. If they shut him down..." Jeff
took a deep breath and shuddered to think of what would become of
the his friend should the RDF decide he wasn't needed anymore.
Probably go completely black market.
"That was twenty years ago," Jeff said, more to himself than
the others. He couldn't believe it survived all these years.
"Yeah, well, I guess they forgot to tell you how that
particular fighter was rebuilt and used by the Civil Defense
Flying Corps. The guy who had the bird last musta liked that
picture because they didn't paint over it."
Jeff just stared at the nose art that once adorned his last
fighter in the Global Civil War.
Well now that's a trip in the Way-back machine there.
"Hey, it's not that bad," Gail said, leaning in close enough
so he could smell her perfume. He made a note to remind her
about regulations on fragrances.
Jeff: All military personnel will smell like three day old sweatsocks and
that's an order.
"Ready to go?" Jeff called.
I thought she was reporting tomorrow.
Will try to get to the next part soon. This one was good and flowed very
well. Eager to get to the other half.
D.B. Sommer