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Sorry if this turns out to be a re-post, but I have every reason to believe
that the previous post was turned away by the anti-spam software....
Anyway, submmitted for consideraton: Tales of the Wanderer, Book 2: Wandering
Aces, Chapter 13: Hammer Time. This is also the last chapter in Book 2.
--
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 Ecartis --
-- File: totw2_13f.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/
AND at Sofaspud's Couch HTTP://www.sofaspud.org/
----------------------------------------------------------------------
Tales of the Wanderer: Book 2: Wandering Ace Chapter 13: "Hammer
Time"
The word had been passed; deep within the SDF-1 the first
deliberate preparations for battle began. Red shirted ordinance
men began the tricky business of arming the ships various weapon
systems, from the huge ship mounted DECCA missiles that were larger
than old time ICBM's to the hundreds of missiles and chain gun rounds
needed for her fleet of Veritechs. Mechanics and plane captains
worked feverishly to finish repairs to as many VT's and Destroids
as possible in the short time remaining. Other technicians
double-checked the battle fortress's on-board weapon and targeting
systems.
In the conference room, the marathon planning meeting that had
evolved from what would have been a peace conference continued.
At the moment, Exedore was standing before a large display that had
been created with the help of the SDF-1 computers. "We Zentraedi
are aware of the primitive reflex cannon buried in your Northern
Hemisphere, but we considered it unimportant, at best. Dolza will
certainly feel that way as well; since he believes that you have
nothing that can stop him, he will divide the grand fleet and totally
surround the planet, cutting off any hope of escape." Exedore
gestured, and the display shifted, showing the appearance of a galaxy
of Zentraedi ships blanketing the earth, seemingly thick enough to
walk across.
"In doing so, it gives us our one opportunity. With this sort
of deployment, Dolza's command asteroid will appear roughly here."
A single blip, much larger than the others drew attention to it by
turning red and beginning to blink. "And his fleet flagships
will appear here, here, here and here..." Four more ships blinked
red. "If we can take these ships out, the grand fleet will be thrown
into confusion and may even turn upon itself as various factions
attempt to claim command."
"In short, we crush the head of the snake!" mused Col. Maistroff
aloud. "Simple military strategy."
"Actually, simple military strategy in the use of overwhelming
numbers and straightforward attack are what have caused our tactics
to stagnate," replied Exedore in a somewhat chilly tone, but it
quickly warmed again with a wry humor. "That and the fact that we
Zentraedi have never lost a war."
Gloval glowered at the display for several minutes, then sat
back in his seat and stoked up his pipe. For once, no one said a
word. He drew a deep lungfull before leaning forward again with an
observation. "I am concerned about this. Those flagships are too
far apart to attack as we move in on the command ship. And if
Breetai splits his forces, you will take prohibitive losses."
Muck had been quiet since the return to the conference room,
as the battle plan had slowly been hashed out. Now, however, he had
something to contribute. "I can," he observed, then looked up to
Gloval. "Captain, request permission to activate the Sledgehammers.
We can take them out."
Gloval took another long draw from his pipe before replying.
"Are you certain they're ready for something like this, Thunders?"
"Hell, they could use another two weeks worth of practice,
but that would probably be true no matter when you turned us loose.
But being able to compare notes with Minister Exedore about target
locations will more than offset that". Gloval nodded, but remained
silent.
"What exactly IS this... Sledgehammer?" asked Exedore, jumping
into the gap of the conversation.
"A strike plan to take out one or more of your ships using our
fighters, Minister," Muck explained.
"So THAT'S what happened to the Meltrani!" Exedore exulted.
"I thought it was a co-incidence she lost power after your attack
on her; I'd never considered that it was because of your attack."
The whistling of the ship's comm cut off Exedore. Gloval
touched a button, putting the conversation on speaker. "Captain,
this is the bridge. Sensors are reporting high-energy readings
between the earth and us. Intel is positive it's the start of the
enemy's fold maneuver..."
"Thank you, Claudia. I will be up shortly," Gloval sighed,
and put out his pipe before closing the connection. "Thunders,
Plan Sledgehammer is approved. This meeting is now adjourned.
Minister, I don't think we'll have time to return you to your ship;
but you are welcome to join me on the bridge."
"Thank you, Captain," Exedore agreed. "However, one last
request. Miss Minmei, I now understand the power of your songs...
they allowed you micronians to hope even when the odds were against
you. Would you sing for us now? To help us hope for victory?"
Minmei nodded and stood...
* * * * * * * * *
Max stopped Rick outside their quarters. "It's going to be OK,
boss..."
Rick just gave his XO a wan smile. "Yeah, sure."
Max shook his head. "You know, if she can still do this to you,
imagine what her songs could do to these guys who haven't heard her
before," he sighed before ducking into his own quarters to climb into
his flight gear, just missing the slight form of Minmei also hurrying
towards Rick's quarters...
* * * * * * * * *
The pilots of the newly minted "Sledgehammer Squadron" were
present and geared up as Muck strode in, still pulling on his last
few bits of flight gear. The rumor and speculation that had been
passing back and forth died instantly as the pilots realized just
what was going on...
"Ok Hammers, LISTEN UP. As of fifteen minutes ago, we are
operational," Muck explained. "As we speak, a vast enemy force is
folding into the Sol system between us and earth. Our mission is
going to be to take out four of their flagships and bollix their
command and control network. We've got the last 12 supers that came
off the line; the ordies are loading them now. We've had to change
the weapons mix from the simulations; the ECM pod is on the
centerline. However you have two ship-killers and a GU-11 under each
wing, two HARMS in each arm, and IR seekers for dog fighting in the
backpacks. Just like practice, we'll be in 3 ship teams..." Muck
continued the briefing, his words drowning out the sound of the
loaders and elevators lifting the first wave of VT's to the deck
above...
* * * * * * * * *
The time spent with Exedore had been helpful, but the delay from
having to brief his pilots in the changes meant Sledgehammer
Squadron was the last to be shot off from Daedalus' catapults.
Only the stragglers were left; planes that'd developed minor faults
just before launch forcing last minute repairs. By the time the
entire squadron was aloft and in formation, a 99-planes (All planes
aloft) transmission came over the communication links, transmitted
by Gloval himself.
"Attention, all fighter planes. Once we enter the zone of
engagement, It is imperative that all planes maintain radio silence.
We will be transmitting Ms. Minmei's songs on all frequencies,
and only her song. It is believed that this will distract the enemy
and give us an advantage. We MUST make the most of this element
of surprise."
"Cap?"
"You heard him. Once the girl starts, we shut up. All Hammers,
keep it buttoned till you get to your targets," Muck supplied,
not breaking orders since the transmission hadn't started yet...
He spied a lone Super moving up fast on his squad, the markings
identifying it as the 00-bird (1) of CAG Rick Hunter. Minmei still
hadn't started, so Muck flipped channels. "Skull one, Sledge one.
Can you punch us a hole when the party starts..."
"Sledge, Skull. Roger. Button it up, Muck," Rick's voice
replied; the planes of Sledgehammer followed him wordlessly.
The central comm screen came to life, showing Minmei alone in a cone
of light. Behind her the music began to swell, and she began to lift
the microphone.
"99 Hammers, hand them the heavy end!" Muck snarled, cutting
off just as Minmei's voice reached out into the darkness. As one,
the 24 planes of Skull and Sledgehammer surged at the enemy,
accompanied by Minmei's plaintive call for victory. It seemed to be
working, but its effects were clearly not complete... while the enemy
ships seemed oblivious, more than enough enemy mecha swarmed at them.
Skull reacted like the well-trained team it was, a swarm of missiles
blowing a hole through the center of that formation, then breaking
off by elements (2) to hit the formation from the rear.
Sledgehammer's planes fired their thrusters and screamed through
this opening before it could close, their speed making pursuit
impossible as the squadron split into 3 plane teams and headed for
their targets. As they drew away from the immediate vicinity of the
SDF-1, enemy fire tapered off dramatically, quickly stopping
completely. Many enemy ships hadn't launched any mecha at all, and
all the combat effective mecha were concentrating on the SDF-1 and
her allies.
The earth hung huge overhead as Muck and his wingmen streaked
closer to their target; the lack of enemy fire giving them a long
moment to gaze up at the once green planet that was home. Muck
winced and forced his eyes back into his cockpit, but they were
inevitably drawn back to the devastation writ large overhead.
A layer of thick clouds were forming, a result of the portion of the
energy barrage that had been directed into Earth's oceans; Between
the breaks in those clouds, the overlapping craters of that terrible
strike glowed a dull red, bleeding wounds still glowing from the
bombardment.
Intellectually, Muck had known this was coming since his
acceptance of the fact he was stuck here for a while... coming face
to face with the reality of it was worse. Even his knowledge
that Earth would be a green verdant world again in time wavered
in the face of the devastation hanging above him. It was the
trilling of his Navigation system that finally broke the spell,
bringing his attention back into the cockpit.
"IP Inbound, boys. As briefed..." he warned, finally breaking
radio silence. Two clicks came back in reply as the three planes
slid into position for the first attack run. The target point
Exedore had pointed out was vulnerable, but it would still need more
than one attack run to finish the big ship off. Accordingly,
Muck had assigned his worst pilot to the first hopefully easiest
run with the enemy still distracted; while Muck played wild weasel
and took out any AAA defenses that they did manage to bring up.
The sleeping giant that was their target stirred in its sleep,
as if sensing the enemy was near. A few radars came up on the rear
half of the flagship, probably under control of a Zentraedi officer
who didn't have a musical bone in his body. Not that it mattered
to Muck... at this point he was thinking only in terms of threats
and counters. The jamming pod under the centerline sprang to life;
stirring up a response as if jabbing a hornet's nest with a stick.
Now the real threat radars appeared; trying to guide in the
flagship's self-defense guns and missiles. Muck rode his VT through
the change to Guardian mode and the HARM missiles blasted from his
forearm launchers to silence the first quartet; sending the enemy
fire blind just as Bulldog released his strike weapons and tore
across the stern of the ship at the speed of heat. The heavy anti
ship weapons plowed into the flagship's armor, leaving several small,
vital components exposed.
The giant was awake now, aware of its attackers, but not yet
aware of how much danger it really was in. A single squadron of
battle-pods launched to counter this minor threat, only to run into
a hailstorm of missiles from Bulldog at point blank range. Aft, Muck
dove in on the target on what he'd judged was the most dangerous
of the attack runs as his wingman flew Wild Weasel cover. Bulldog
pulled up and away from their target, loosing his own quartet of
anti-radar missiles before falling victim to a blindly fired plasma
gun.
"Stay close, Snake..." Muck warned. "One pass, all missiles."
A grunt was the only reply as the two VT's drove through the hail of
fire to the release point, sending their missiles streaking in on the
now exposed target points as the two fighters broke 'up' and away.
The giant realized the real threat now, as the few remaining radars
left the fighters alone and concentrated on the incoming missiles,
only to be blotted out seconds later by Snake-eye's aft-launched
HARMS. The two fighters streaked away as eight heavy missiles
tore into the guts of the engine assemblies, setting up a chain
reaction of explosions that slowly moved forward along the length
of the great flagship until it reached a magazine of some sort,
obliterating it and several other ships in an orgy of mutual
distruction.
This got the attention of the other ships in the area; some that
tried to break free of the coming disaster, others who tried to fire
on the bacterial-like invaders who had done this. By now, though,
Muck and Snake-eye were moving far to fast for the guns of the other
ships to track as they raced clear of the enemy fleet. Muck heard
the voice of Claudia Grant warning all other ships to break off as
their recovery vessel, a pod carrier on loan from Breetai's fleet,
came into view. As the two VT's transformed to Battleoid mode and
boarded the pod, Muck could see the SDF-1 making its final attack
dive into the moon that was Dolza's command center... It was about
to get very unhealthy to be in space. The two VT's secured
themselves to racks designed to hold battle-pods as the recovery
pod piled on its best speed for the safety of the dark side of the
moon...
* * * * * * * * *
"Come", Rick called in response to the door chime. Muck
entered, to Rick's relief. It had been a long five weeks since that
climatic battle; a month in which Rick had to lead the surviving
pilots of the war through the changes from fighting a war to securing
a peace... as he adjusted to those same changes himself. At least
all his planes were in one place again; up until a month ago half of
his survivors had been stuck on the far side of the moon with the
remains of Breetai's fleet. 'Muck' Thunders had stayed till the last
shuttle flight, organizing that end of the transfer while Max
Sterling had worked the RDF end. 'Muck's presence aboard meant that
phase of 'the impossibly long list of thing that just HAVE to have
been completed yesterday' was over at least; One down, dozens more
to go.
This train of thought was unpleasantly interrupted by Muck
dropping a white envelope on his desk, followed by his wings. "Sir,
I am formally submitting my resignation, Sir," Muck informed him,
rather redundantly. Rick rolled his eyes at this statement before
grabbing the envelope, unceremoniously tearing it in two. He dropped
the remains in his wastebasket and pushed the wings back across the
desk to Muck.
"Request denied, Muck. We still need you here." Now it was
Muck's turn to be surprised... he gaped like a fish out of water at
this, but picked back up his wings.
"Rather surprising attitude from the original reluctant pilot,
Rick."
"That was also over 2 years ago and a lot of fighting. Hell,
in a very real way that kid was KIA the same time Roy... When I
wound up with this job. Besides, didn't you mention that you were
stuck because you couldn't replace a part or something?"
"Yup, but I think I found an equivalent replacement."
"Well, FRED beat you to it. Lang's got FRED in his lab, so the
two of them are probably already working on the problem. Either
way, you're not going anywhere till FREDs fixed, right?"
"Right..."
"Good. Here's the problem. Only 20% of our pilots have any
experience flying in actual atmosphere; half of them from our
re-supply visit a year ago. And only the survivors from Sledge have
ANY attack experience," Rick finished in a grim tone.
"You can't be serious, Rick! I lost half my squadron on that
attack; I'd expect training new pilots in ground attack is the last
thing you'd want me doing."
"You're wrong. I had 'Griff' (3) run us through the attack
sim you worked up. Only 3 of US survived, Max, Miriya, and Myself;
and *WE* weren't able take down ANY of our targets." Rick paused
for a moment before continuing, "And in case you didn't notice,
we all took 50 percent losses, Muck."
Muck grimaced; he wasn't certain which was worse, that Rick was
right, or that he'd forgotten military discipline enough for Rick TO
lecture him! Either way... "When do I start, Skipper?"
"Tomorrow. Get the rest of your angst out of your system by
then."
"Aye aye, skipper."
* * * * * * * * * *
Observation lounges aboard the SDF-1 were common, and often the
perfect place for private conversations or just deep thought; a fact
Muck should have remembered before heading into this particular
lounge. That was because not only did he like the view from it, so
did most of the senior staff... two of whom were already present
and discussing something when he'd arrived. It also did NOT help
that he'd been so engrossed in his own thoughts that he hadn't
noticed them until they'd addressed him! Net result was a mental
train wreck; he pulled his gaze from the outside to the inside while
his brain furiously attempted a warm-boot. Two pairs of eyes: One
brown, one Blue. Short curly brown hair Vs. Long mostly straight
light brown hair. Persons identified...
"Urk... Commander, Commander. My apologies, I didn't see you
there. Please excuse the interruption; I'll be leaving now..."
Muck had rather expected to be blasted into a grease stain on
the spot, figuratively speaking. To have Commander Hayes and Lt.
Commander Grant break up into laughter over it was not; he must have
rolled a metaphoric 20 on a save vs. command's ire. Lt. Commander
Grant made an aside comment about sledgehammers to Commander Hayes
before addressing him directly.
"That's quite all right, Muck. I was just pointing out certain
peculiarities of the male of our species."
"Like our inability to notice things right under our respective
noses?"
"Exactly." Muck nodded at this observation, turning his gaze
back out the viewport before replying.
"In all fairness to the CAG," he observed, having figured out
just what sort of conversation he'd walked in on, "He's still young;
I don't think he's realized what love really is yet."
"And you base that on the what you saw in that cartoon show
about us," Lisa interjected snippily.
"Nope; I never got to see the end of the series, they canceled
it mid-season. The last episode I saw was the attack on Dolza's
command ship. I'm operating as much in the dark as you are in that
respect. I'm basing this on actual experience and observation."
Now it was Lisa's turn to gaze pensively out the observation
window. "I still don't see how I can compete with her."
"Think about it, Commander. He's a pilot, she's a big star.
They move in different circles now. At the end of the day he's gonna
be back here trying to do his job while she's off basking in people's
admiration. I bet you'd find him in his cabin right now, putting
off dinner to concentrate on his job just the way you do." Lisa gave
Muck a thoroughly unconvinced look. "Go on down there... you'll
see I'm right." Lisa gave Muck a final thoughtful look before
turning and leaving the observation deck; Claudia waited until the
hatch had closed behind Lisa to break into a chuckle.
"You just came from there, didn't you? That's how you know."
"Guilty as charged, Ma'am. I throw myself on the mercies of the
court."
Claudia took a turn at gazing out the window. "You remind me a
lot of Roy. I wish you could have met him; you two would have gotten
along like gangbusters."
"I wish I could have too... I knew a Roy Folkker back in my
home dimension; I used to kid him about his destiny. We were both
pilots in the Gulf War; we were flying a mission together when he got
shot down and killed."
There was something about this last statement that had caused
Claudia to fixate him with a strange look for a moment before she
turned back to the wide expanse of the window. "What happened
to bring you up here?"
"Rick gave me a new assignment and told me to loose my angst
over my losses."
"I see..." Claudia mused, and the room fell silent for a
timeless moment, filled only by the golden glow of a setting sun,
before she spoke again. "Have you had dinner yet, Captain?"
"No... Why?"
"I'd like you to join me for dinner. There are some things
I'd like to show you..."
* * * * * * * * *
Two months after the end of the war, Captain Henry Gloval
formally dedicated the RDF's Roy Folkker memorial airbase, generating
another press event. While not the over the top blowout that the
marriage of Max and Miriya Sterling had been, it was enough to
attract the attention of the still rebuilding Macross City; something
a very small and select group of people were counting on. Their
absence from the main event was noted, but believed to be duty
related. The press was almost right on that account.
Said group consisted of Captain-select Lisa Hayes, the newly
designated commander of the SDF-2, the keel of which had just been
laid down a week previous. Commanders Rick Hunter and Claudia Grant,
Lt. Commanders Max and Miriya Sterling of Skull Squadron; and 3
enlisted persons, Elsa Bibat, Adam Jury and John Bailesu. They had
gathered at the other end of Folkker airbase to say good-bye to a
departing Muck Thunders, the location chosen to avoid the press.
"Max, Miriya; you two take care. And congratulations
on your daughter," Muck observed; setting a convoluted gag in place
that wouldn't pay off for another month, when the Sterlings found
out Miriya had, in fact, conceived the night before Muck left; and
would, in fact, give birth to a daughter 9 months later to the day.
Rick and Lisa were next as they received a sharp salute as Muck
formally resigned his RDF commission. The fact that Muck was
defiantly NOT in uniform and was wearing a rather loud Hawaiian
print shirt over a pair of jeans lent an air of comedy to the act.
That he'd somehow slipped a pair of 'Groucho glasses' on while no one
was looking didn't help either. The pair somehow managed to avoid
laughing as they returned his salute and accepted his resignation.
That left Claudia Grant; Muck removed the gag glasses and gave
her a deep hug. "You take care of yourself now," he advised her in a
voice full of friendship, "You'll be with him again when the time is
right."
Claudia wiped a tear from her eye and kissed him gently on the
cheek. "I know," she whispered softly. "It's just so hard, though."
Muck nodded at that and gave her another hug. Finally, though,
she straightened up and motioned the three enlisted that Muck had
already said goodbye too over. "Before you go, though, I want to
give these too you." Muck was then presented with 3 of the storage
containers that were normally kept in the back of his vehicle FRED.
"Aren't these Roy's?" Muck asked, examining the contents before
loading them in the back of FRED.
"Yes... but I want you to have them. Roy would have wanted
you to have them if he'd known you... and their memory is just too
painful for me to keep them around," Claudia admitted with a wan
smile. Muck simply accepted this with a nod of his head. As he
walked around to Fred's driver side door, though, Lisa had one final
surprise.
"Detail, Attention!" She snapped, and everyone did.
"Bronx, Salute!" came next, and the small group gave Muck the
Hairy eye in unison, causing Muck to break out laughing. With a
final wave, he and Fred accelerated down the deserted Taxiway,
and vanished in a flash of light...
------
1) Naval tradition reserves one plane from the wing strictly for the
CAG's use. This plane's number always ends in 00. Technically,
every squadron should have a 00 bird reserved for the CAG, but this
was one of the first casualties of the ongoing losses of the first
Robotech war. 2) Naval squadrons are organized into 2 plane elements.
2 elements form a flight of 4, and 3 flights of 4 are a squadron.
A traditional air group has 2 fighter squadrons, 2 attack squadrons,
and other associated elements such as Early Warning, Electronic
Warfare, SAR choppers, and ASW aircraft, and is the largest official
naval aviation unit. As you can guess, the SDF-1 by this time has
only VT fighter squadrons and only a few remaining Cats-eyes for
Electronic Warfare/Early warning work. 3) SSGT Ben 'Griff' Hutchins
appears briefly at the end of TotW 2-5
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