From CHM173S@vma.smsu.edu (Andrea and Sheryl (Chris Meadows))
Newsgroups: alt.pub.havens-rest
Subject: [Cain] The Chase
Date: Mon, 26 Apr 93 16:03:41 CDT

    Empty space, standing its eternal vigil--silent, brooding, 
waiting. Waiting, though, for what?  Ever the question that pops 
into mind when witnessing the vast expanse of fulfilled 
nothingness.  Of course, there was nobody there to witness it 
yet, just the stars and the moons, and the little planet they 
circled.
    A moment later, however, the stillness was broken and the 
silence shattered.  Though there was still no sound, the silence 
was obviously over, the waiting complete for now.  The void would 
be satisfied, until it was left alone once more- then would the 
wait begin anew.
    That moment, when the emptiness was filled, was such a 
contrast to the preceding one that if any where there to be 
startled, they surely would have felt their hearts lurch up into 
tight throats as the starship suddenly appeared in a flash of 
white and silver light. Even the emptiness seemed startled when 
she jumped in-system.  The jump was always like that--sudden and 
bright, no matter which end it was seen from.  The out-system was 
perhaps a little less surprising, as the ship merely disappeared, 
not the other way around.
    The starship that jumped was not large, at least not for a 
jump capable one.  Most such ships were much, much larger, 
carrier size usually.  This ship was no carrier, but had more the 
appearance of a small destroyer, a hunter, though others would 
argue it to be an explorer with a few extra guns added.  Both 
were wrong.  This ship was not a military vessel, despite the 
obvious armament, nor was it anything used for purely scientific 
reasons.  This ship served no purpose but its own.
    In reality, it was a ship that was _meant_ to be military, 
though not for fighting--rather for deep covert operations.  Of 
course, it had been much altered since then, and had never 
actually begun its carreer in the TerraIV Royal Navy, even though 
it had been built with all the newest advancements.  Before it 
could take its' palce in the TAAF (Terran Advanced Attack 
Forces), it had been stolen, to put it simply.  Stolen by the 
best pilot in the Navy, or TARN as they preferred to call it.
    As the ship drew closer to the planet, it began to become 
more distinct in shape and colouring.  She was mostly white, with 
a black underside, and red markings up the sides and over the 
top.  As it drew nearer still, an observer would have noticed 
that a silver star was emblazoned on the nose, and on either side 
she bore red letters where the black met the white, half on 
either background.  The red letters read in english, identifying 
this most likely as a human ship of some kind- The Soulstar.
    The Soulstar set a course directly for the small planet with 
the two moons, not seeming to waste any time.  This was a ship on 
a mission, and it looked as if the mission where rather urgent.  
But what happened next was even more startling.

                            **********

    "Shit!"  Blips didn't waste any time or pleasentry as he 
addressed his commander.  "Darcie, we've got trouble!  The 
bastards managed to follow us."
    Lt. O'Kahgan didn't waste time repremanding the other.  Even 
as he turned away from the console he was using, he was directing 
questions to his security officer.  "Khoran!  What do we have?  
And put it onscreen."
    "Yes sir," Khoran Darr responded as he quickly began to push 
buttons on his station console.  "I've got them--there's only 
one. Damn, no, another just jumped in."  The main view flickered 
and the scene of tranquil space containing the quiet little 
planet was replaced by the rear view--two nasty looking 
destroyers were bearing down on the Soulstar.  They were dark and 
ugly, and there was no doubt at all as to their purpose.  These 
were ship whose sole reason for existance was to blow other ships 
out of the sky.
    "Damn," Darcie O'Kahgan swore, "how the hell did they lock 
onto us?  The riftspace should have interfered and covered our 
jump. What the hell happened?"  Darcie was also the Science 
Officer of the vessel, and so knew what it would take to track a 
ship jumping through rift space.  Their was no way that their 
pursuers had that sort of capability...
    "Darcie, they didn't pop up through a rift," Blips spoke 
again, disregarding the courtesy normally applied when speaking 
to one of Darcie's rank.  They had known each other too long for 
that, and the military service they had shared was long past.  
"They jumped too, and to the exact coordinates that we did.  They 
tracked us all right.  They bloody well had a better lock on us 
than they should have had in normal space!"
    "There's nothing to be done about it now." Darcie turned to 
Lt. Darr again.  "Lt., prepare to defend.  And launch our 
fighters."
    "Already on it sir.  Dandra and Foegarth are suiting up right 
now. We should have two Starslayers launched in two minutes."
    "That's not good enough, Lt. Darr!  We need them out there 
now! If they get their fighters launched first, we won't stand a 
chance. And why only two? I want the whole fleet launched."
    "Sorry sir, but two's all we got.  The others are still 
damaged from our last encounter.  The 'Drakes should be ready in 
twenty, but the Vulgs are out for this one."  Khoran paused as a 
message came in on his headset.  "Dandra and Foegarth are ready 
sir. Initiating launch sequence.  On my mark. Three, two, one, 
engaged." The view flickered again, to show the two Starslayer 
fighters emerge from the tiny launch bay of the Soulstar.  It was 
very unusual for a ship that size to carry any fighters at all, 
no less seven.  The strange capability went back to the original 
clandestine nature of the 'Star.
    "Dandra here.  We are inspace, and ready to engage.  Let us 
know when the birdies leave the nest.  We're going to take a 
crack at the closest one."  The female voice fizzled over the 
comm stations speaker.  Darcie crossed his fingers and wished 
them luck.
    "We got you covered babe," Blips broke in before Darcie could 
reply.  He knew his friend hated it more than she did when he 
called her that, but it was all in good jest.  "The sky is clear, 
and I'm watching for the eggs to hatch.  Momma birds haven't 
moved to intercept you yet, so the little ones must be coming.  
As soon as you two are clear, we're sending a blast, so don't 
double back to hit the first momma bird to quickly.  I'd hate to 
roast your fine figure, Dandra."
    Khoran gave the computer specialist a sharp look.  "Blips, 
I'm the one who sends the 'blasts' out, not you.  Now quit 
flirting and pay attention to what you're doing."
    "You're never any fun, Darr.  Guess that's why you're 
security. Now why don't you just ready those lasers of yours?"  
Blips and Darr where always flaming each other, and had been for 
the whole five years they'd known each other.
    Darcie shook his head and turned to watch the viewer.  The 
two fighters were closing quickly with the destroyers chasing 
them. Even as he watched, Dandra and Foegarth began to fire on 
the closest ship.  They let loose their Spitfires, then broke and 
split as the turrets began to swivel around to fire upon the 
little fighters attacking them.  The destroyer didn't get its' 
flak defense up quick enough, and four missles slammed into into 
its' side.  Foegarths aim was as true as ever, and he took out 
two of the guns on the port side, while Dandra's shots did no 
less damage a little further aft.
    "Ouch! That's gotta hurt," Blips shouted into his comm mike.  
"All right, Lt. Darr, fire away.  And try to hit the lauch bay."  
He chuckled as Khoran fixed him with another withering stare.
    "I know what I'm doing, Blips.  You just do your own work, or 
is it too trying for your limited intelligence?"
    "Not my intelligence Darr, just my attention span."  Even 
then Khoran got a lock and fired the rear facing Fractal Laser.  
The beam flew true, slamming into the other ship, just above the 
nose.  He'd always thought it a major design problem of larger 
ships, always putting the launch bays there.  It wasn't a problem 
on a large carrier, but on a destroyer, it was just plain stupid.  
Why put it there for an easy target on a ship that functioned as 
a pursuit vessel?  It just didn't make sense- hell, nothing the 
military of any nation did made sense.
    Sure enough, the Fractal beam sliced into the launch bay 
doors, and luckily enough, it did so just as a flight was 
launching.  Four of the enemy fighters burst into immediate 
scrap, increasing the size of the explosion, and hence doing more 
damage, completely sealing the launch bay.  The first two had 
made it out, but barely. One looked as if it could barely fly, 
and the other had taken damage as well.  That would greatly 
increase the chances of Dandra and Foegarth surviving this.
    "Good shot Khoran!"  Darcie felt relief flow over him.  "Get 
ready to fire again.  I want to hit that one again before 
concentrating on the second one."  The Fractal would need a bit 
of time to recharge, but why not lauch a torpedo or two while 
they waited?  As Khoran made the necessary adjustments, Darcie 
turned his attention to the pilot and the navigator.
    "How far are we from the planet?"
    "Still forty thousand klicks, sir," was the dissapointing 
reply.
    "Damn," the commander swore again.  "Will we be able to reach 
him? This damned ristspace..."
    "If he's in his fighter, without a problem.  But I don't 
expect that the captian is spending his leave holed up in it."  
The young pilot smiled, then took on a serious look again as he 
saw that the lieutenant didn't laugh.
    Darcie swore again, then focused his attention on the view 
screen and the battle outside again.  Foegarth had taken the 
cripled fighter out, but the other one was giving good chase, 
keeping the fighter jocks attention off of the destroyer for the 
moment.  Dandra was turning for another pass at it, but the flak 
cannons were going now, reducing the effectivness of a missle 
attack, so she was using only her guns on the damaged port side.  
That would take too long, he thought, shaking his head.
    "Blips, can you reach the captain?"  They had to get through. 
They may not have the time for him to come help, but he had to be 
told, in case they didn't survive.  "We _need_ to get through to 
him Blips."
    "I know, Darse, but we're still too far.  Our systems are all 
hurtin' from that last battle, long range comm included."  Blips 
was not only computer specialist, but in charge of communications 
as well.  It came with the turf.  "Young is right, you know.  He 
won't likely be near his ship, and his personal comm doesn't have 
the range, especially with our LRC offline as it is.  Get me ten 
thou' closer, and I'll see what I can do."
    Darcie shook his head again.  They needed more time, and time 
was one thing they didn't have.  His eyes slid back to the 
viewscreen again.  Khoran had launched torpedoes on the first 
ship, and 'Garth and Dandra had moved on to attack the second 
enemy carrier, satisfied that they had crippled the first well 
enough for now. They would have no support from the Soulstar 
until the wounded destroyer was taken out.  The captain of the 
second one was not stupid.  Seeing the condition of the other 
one, he had moved his ship over so that his wounded comrade made 
a shield between him and the 'Star.  Ruthless tactic, maybe, but 
it worked.  The other ship would be destroyed now anyways, and if 
neither the Soulstar nor the second destroyer could fire on one 
another, the latter was safe.  He would be able to concentrate on 
the lone pair of fighters that the Soulstar had launched.  With 
them out of the way, the Soulstar stood no chance.
    That was the tactic used by many militraries.  Their own 
TerraIV navy had taught similar tactics.  When they were in the 
acadamy, and even after, they were told the same thing.  Take out 
the escort, and the capital ship was easy prey.  Once the 
fighters were gone, it had no protection.  That was how most 
pilots flew.  But not their captain.  He had always said that 
there was nothing wrong with that tactic, but there wasn't 
anthing really good about it either.  He thought it best to 
evaluate the situation, and fly according to it.
    "To fly the same way all the time, is to invite defeat." He 
had often said.  "If you do, your enemy will get to know you, and 
so have an edge.  And if that doesn't happen, the probability of 
something going wrong will increase."  He had always been more in 
favour of taking out the big ships first, Darcie thought.  And 
against carriers, that was always best.  By the time you finished 
taking out the escort, the carrier would have launched another 
wing of fighters, then another while you fought them.  It was 
best to take out three quarters of the escort, or even only half, 
their captain said, then go after the carrier.  It was because of 
his teachings that their first shot had been at the launch bay of 
the desrtoyer- not a very damaging shot, but a crippling one, as 
it prevented the deploy of a ships' greatest defence.  Darcie had 
seen Cain do some pretty amazing things in the past with his hit 
and run style of flying.  Once the escort was partly taken out, 
he would do a run on the capital ship, then burn on past.  He'd 
turn for another as soon as the fighters began to pursue him.  
Often, they'd fire on him just as he 'burned, and end up hitting 
their own carrier.  If you could keep the large ship between you 
and the enemy fighters, you'd be alright, as Cain had often 
demonstrated.
    Ah, but it had been a long time since they had left TARN, and 
Cain wasn't here now.  It was up to Dandra and Foegarth.  Darcie 
had complete faith in their abilities, but he didn't like the 
odds. He was at the point where he would even jump in one of the 
other fighters if they were flight worthy, and he wasn't much of 
a pilot. He'd changed over into the Tech department soon after 
graduating from the academy, and though he had been trained as a 
fighter jock, he had limited experience, flying only 12 missions 
before being transfered.
    He couldn't stand it any longer.  He flicked a switch on the 
console in front of him, and a moment later the beautiful but 
grease smudged face of Jaana Cantz was looking at him.  "Yes 
sir?"
    "Jaana, how much longer 'till those 'Drakes are ready?"  He 
was surprised to see the engineer directly helping the mech's to 
fix up the damaged fighters.  She was full of surprises, Darcie 
knew, and he was pleased to have such a dedicated officer under 
his command.
    "I'll have one ready in seven minutes, but the other will be 
another fifteen as least.  We found a problem with the secondary 
thrusters that we overlooked before, the fissures were so 
subtle."
    "Dandra and Foegath may not have five minutes, Jaana.  Hurry 
up." As if to reinforce his words, Blips urgently informed the 
bridge and the two fighter pilots that the second destroyer had 
deployed a wing of six light fighters, and six more were on the 
way.  Jaana turned off the console and rejoined the mech's 
working on the Black Drakes, but not before noticing the sudden 
worry that had crossed Lt. O'Kahgan's face at the announcement.  
Dandra would have herself a very fine man there, if she wasn't so 
stubborn- and so adamant about maintaining her 'I'm a warrior and 
don't have time for soft men' attitude.  Even though Foegarth was 
blue and furry, she still payed him more attention than she did 
Darcie, even though she also knew that the Alzar had no interest 
in his fellow pilot.  "But he's a warrior, Jaana, a real man," 
Dandra had often confided.  Dandra could be so set in her ways, 
and Jaana knew that it came from her people- all of the Salthar 
were like that, _especially_ the women.
    Meanwhile, out in space, the battle was getting _very_ 
heated. The damaged ship had not gone down so easily as it should 
have.  It had taken three torpedo hits from the Soulstar, and was 
still not down for the count.  It had diverted all power to the 
shields, and the human ship had greatly underestimated how much 
power they had available to them.  Even with the crude design of 
the destroyers, their tech level was much higher than the 
Soulstar had anticipated. Now, the two vessels traded blows, and 
the 'Star was beginning to take some nasty hits.
    Foegarth had gleaned all of this in a quick glance, and now 
his attention was back on more urgent and immediate matters.  He 
had taken one of the light fighters out all ready.  These were of 
a much different design than the two that had launched from the 
other ship. They had lucked out by crippling the one with heavy 
attack fighters on board.  Even so, these light fighters were no 
slouches.  They had the advantage of numbers, and two of the 
pilots were experienced, and good.  The Alzar didn't concentrate 
on them, however.  His captain had told him that to do so was 
often a mistake.  Even a fresh greenie could take out an 
experienced pilot if forgotten and left on his own.  In fact, 
Foegarth's first six kills had all been like that, and in only 
two missions.  He was flying as wingman for Cain in the TerraIV 
wars, and the baddies had all gone after his leader, leaving him, 
the newbie, alone.  He'd simply followed Cains' lead and picked 
them off as they closed on his wingleaders tail.
    No, the good pilots would have to wait.  He ordered Dandra to 
keep them busy for the moment as he circled to draw the three 
less experienced fighters after him.  They followed, just as a 
new recruit always does.  The young ones are all out for glory, 
as was he when he was just starting.  He grinned as he held his 
turn, a long slow sweeping one that brought him around the 
destroyer.  He watched the three fighters follow him on his rear 
viewer.  Good. They where all out for the kill, and not working 
together as much as they should be.  He held the turn a little 
longer.  One... two... three... Just a little more...
    Suddenly the Starslayer turned sharply and rolled, beginging 
a tight flip roll.  Even as he came near the apex of the loop, 
Foegarth slammed the stick to the left and foreward, coming out 
of the basic manouver and doubling back, popping up almost right 
where he had started.  The three fighters had all moved to follow 
his original move, and showed their vulnerable tops to him.  He 
quickly centered in on not the nearest, but the one furthest to 
the left. His cannons blasted staight at the cockpit.  The other 
ship didn't stand a chance.  The first three blasts took the 
shields down.  The forth hit a split second later, and even 
though it didn't break completely through the shields, it had 
enough force and the right angle to smash the canopy.  No need to 
blow a ship up when you can disable it and kill the pilot with 
far less effort.  The pressure of the the cracking cockpit had 
done just that.
    The other two fighters had meanwhile turned to fall back 
behind their prey.  Since they were young, and relatively 
untested, they didn't know why he had fired on the other when 
they were closer, and they didn't dwell on it too long.  The one 
on the right then found out why Foegarth had done that, as he 
made precisely the turn that the Alzar had hoped for.  He had 
forgotten about how close they were to the rear end of the 
destroyer, and as he swept further right to close the angle more 
quickly, he flew right into the path of the larger ships 
thrusters.  Normally, they posed little problem, but that close, 
a high-g manouver in their wake was deadly.  The pilot never knew 
what hit him as his ship was crushed by the combined force of the 
g's and the thrusters, both acting in the same direction.
    The third pilot was surprised for only a moment, then began 
to more carefully fall in behind the Starslayer fighter.  But to 
his surprise, his opponent didn't try to engage or evade, but hit 
his afterburners as he calmly turned, shooting across the top of 
the destroyer towards where the other three fighters were engaged 
in a heated dog-fight.
    "Hey there Dandra!  How you holding up?"  Her helmeted face 
popped up on his vidcomm display as she answered.
    "I could use a hand Furball! My shields are down to 40% and 
my blasters aren't coming online fast enough to fight back."
    "You just hold in there Babe.  Keep doing what you're doing, 
and I'll be right there."  Even though Babe wasn't her callsign, 
it had stuck with Foegarth from hearing Blips use it so much.  In 
return, she called him Furball, instead of Moondog.  He didn't 
mind, as long as it was just her who called him that.  Blips got 
away with it once in a while, but it was generally safer not the 
call the Alzar pilot Furball or anyhting else demeaning to his 
species.
    As expected, the other fighter had followed him.  He had made 
no move to shake him, and in fact _wanted_ to be tailed.  He'd 
have to be for a moment longer.  He was only ten seconds from 
joining Dandra in her dogfight with the two enemy aces.  In that 
ten seconds, the pilot on his tail managed to get a missled lock.  
Even as he launched, blasts rocked Foegarths ship.  This would be 
close... any more than those ten long seconds and he would have 
to take evasive action to survive.  A warning light began to 
flash accompanied with a blazoned alarm, indicating that the 
missle was locked and armed. It would have to wait.  He had to 
hold his course staedy for one more second...
    Moondog shifted the stick and placed his ship on a new 
vector.  He looked once more at the two ships fighting with his 
wingman, then made one more slight adjustment.  He fired his 
afterburners again and hurtled into the middle of the fray.  He 
had timed it so that he barely missed Dandra's Starslayer.  Even 
as she began to swear at him over the commlink, he began to turn 
sharply, slowing his ship back down to 500 km/s.  The young pilot 
following him had hit his 'burners as well, intent on making his 
kill.  The experience of the pilot tailing Dandra could do 
nothing to save him.  Even his vastly better skills stood not a 
chance as his comrade rammed him full in the flank, the force of 
his afterburners propelling him with a speed far too great for 
any reflexes to avoid.  The explosion was incredible as the two 
fuel ladden and fully armed fighters collided.
    "Furball you dirty bastard!  You scared the living shit out 
of me!"  Dandra was not as furious as she had been a moment 
before.
    "What, not even a thank you?" Foegarth laughed back.  "Now, 
run along now dear, and take care of that destroyer.  I'll be 
back to help you in a second, but right now I've got a parasite 
to drop."
    Dandra smiled as her wingleader broke off back towards the 
first destroyer, the missle still hot on his tail.  She 
disengaged from the fighter she was tailing, and turned on the 
big ship.  She flew in close firing her blasters, which had just 
come back online.  She waited before letting loose her dumbfires, 
knowing full well that the flack would not damage her ship as 
much as it would the missles. She waited far longer than most 
pilots would feel comfortable doing, waited until she was a 
thousand meters from her target.  Still she waited, until she was 
at the inner reaches of the flack field, a scant six hundred 
meters from the ship.  She released her two dumbfire missles, 
named so because of their lack of a guidance system.  Because of 
that lack, they were not all that useful in a dogfight, but 
against a big slow moving ship they were _very_ effective.  Even 
as they left the missle bays on her fighters sides she shoved the 
stick forward and hit her 'burners, diving down and under the 
enemy destroyer.   She barely managed to break free of the blast 
range, and sighed with relief, letting out the breath that she 
had held in.  Dandra turned to make another run past the ship, 
being careful to try and keep it between her and the enemy 
fighter as Cain had taught her to do.
    A cheer went up from all the personell on the Soulstar's 
bridge as the first destroyer began to erupt in flames.  They had 
diverted all shields to the fore to guard against the Soulstars 
attack as the two exchanged blows, and were caught completely 
unawares when Foegarth had come bearing down on them from behind, 
then sheared off quickly, being careful not to hit the thruster 
wake too hard.  As he flew just above the enemy ship, he hit his 
afterburners again, and shot past it.  The missle on his tail, 
however, was not equipped with afterburners, nor intelligence, 
and it retargetted on the rear engine thrusters of the destroyer, 
not being able to tell the difference between them and the 
thrusters of its' intended target at such close proximity.  The 
missle slammed right in and exploded, causing the reactor to go 
up with it.  Ten seconds later, a blinding flash of light and 
scrapped debris was all that was left of the damaged destroyer 
and her crew.
    "Way to be Moondog," Blips shouted over the commlink.  "Right 
in the money!"  He traded some idle banter with the pilot as 
Foegarth turned to rejoin Dandra.  Blips looked up and called out 
to Darcie suddenly in excitement.  "Darse! I've got a link on the 
captain! It'll just be a few secs 'till I'm through.  Well, as 
long as he has his communicator on him, and ready to recieve."
    Darcie quickly strode over to the comm station to join Blips.  
He flicked on the send mike.  "You ready there, Blips?"
    "Just a sec... alright, got it!  Now just pray he's there to 
hear it."  Blips punched in a quick series of buttons, and began 
to speak into his commset.  "Cain!  Captain Cain!  Soulstar to 
Cain."  He waited, then began again.  "Captain, answer me damnit! 
Blips here. Soulstar to Kilrahh One.  Cain!"  He shot a worried 
look at Darcie, then tried again.  Still no response.  His face 
began to fall, and Darcie swallowed a lump in his throat.  He 
turned to face his crew, and each one wore the same crestfallen 
look.
    "Looks like we're on our own boys and girls..."
    The comm suddenly squawked loudly cutting him off.  After a 
moment, the static cleared somewhat and a barely audible but 
familiar voice crackled through.  "Blips! Cain here... <ffft>... 
What the <screeeee> are you <ffifft> doing back here?  You aren't 
due <SSKKKREEEEECH> <FFFFFFFFFTT> <WHHHREEE> <ffffffffff>...."
    "Shit! I lost him Darcie!"  The momentary joy that had been 
on the blond mans face disappeared to be replaced by the somber 
dissapointment as he fiddled with his comp, trying vainly to 
re-establish contact with his captain.

    -Dani Treutler, <b7p7@musicb.mcgill.ca> 

[Admin]: Thanks to Chris Meadows... er, Andrea and Sheryl... for 
posting this for me.  I'm having trouble keeping my new Unix 
demon under control... :(

===========================================================================
From CHM173S@vma.smsu.edu.Ext (Andrea and Sheryl (Chris Meadows))
Newsgroups: alt.pub.havens-rest
Subject: [Constellation] Prologue: Let's Meet the Players
Date: Sat, 24 Apr 93 19:09:22 CDT

From mnemosyne.cs.du.edu!nyx!cmeadows Tue Nov  9 21:24:57 MST 1993
Article 808 of alt.pub.havens-rest:
Newsgroups: alt.pub.havens-rest
Path: mnemosyne.cs.du.edu!nyx!cmeadows
>From: cmeadows@nyx.cs.du.edu (Chris Meadows)
Subject: [Constellation] #1: Enter the Adventurers
Message-ID: <1993Nov3.053735.19445@mnemosyne.cs.du.edu>
X-Disclaimer: Nyx is a public access Unix system run by the University
    of Denver for the Denver community.  The University has neither
    control over nor responsibility for the opinions of users.
Sender: usenet@mnemosyne.cs.du.edu (netnews admin account)
Organization: Nyx, Public Access Unix at U. of Denver Math/CS dept.
Date: Wed, 3 Nov 93 05:37:35 GMT
Lines: 502

ADMIN (Andrea & Sheryl):
    Hi, this is Andrea and Sheryl--you know, the thief and her
unicorn from alt.pub.dragons-inn?  Our regular author, Chris
Meadows, is currently inconvenienced, heh heh.
    While we were going through our author's things recently, we
found this.  We figured we'd better post it forthwith...after
all, who knew how long it had been sitting there?  Could be
weeks!
    Anyway, here it is.  There might be more...we'll look.  Or
we could always write it ourselves!  :)  Let's see...Sheryl,
what's a spaceship?  >Nicker!<  Oh, you don't know either, huh?
Maybe we could look it up somewhere...


    "Where the hell are we?" a peeved voice rang out over the
radio.
    "Jake, I don't know," a female voice said.  "Calm down, will
you?  We're trying to work this out."
    "Why the hell did we have to go through that damned Rift.
Why couldn't we just have taken our chances with reentry into the
atmos--"  Click.
    "Thanks, Mako."
    "Think nothing of it," a man's voice replied.  "Jake does
tend to get on one's nerves at times, doesn't he?"
    The scene was the front of the cockpit of a mid-sized
spaceship.  A dome canopy showed an array of stars and cosmic
gases.  Silhoutted against this panorama were two control seats,
with a couple of rounded heads above their top.
    "Can we go back through the Rift?" the man asked.
    "Negative," was the reply.  "We're experiencing so much
anomaly that there's no way to tell exactly where it is.  Maybe
Arla will be able to help us later."
    Moving in closer and swinging around the seats, the occupants
were visible.  They were both wearing bulky spacesuits with the
helmets off, and the gloves were removed too for ease of control
manipulation.  The suits bore the insignia of an American flag,
with the words FREEDOM STATION printed underneath it.
    The person in the portside command seat was female, in her
mid-twenties or so, with blond hair and silver eyes.  She was
wearing a transparent visor, similar in shape if not in shade to
the large sunglasses worn by the elderly during the 20th century
because they would fit over prescription eyeglasses.  Attached to
these eyeglasses were a very light earpiece and mouthpiece comm
headset.  Her eyes flickered back and forth as words and diagrams
formed on the visor, backward to any onlooker but perfectly
forward to her. The name tag on her suit read Lacey, Sharon A.
    The man on the right had dark hair, cropped short, and wore
eyeglasses.  He also had on a headset, but no visor, and was
currently half-turned toward the woman.  His nametag read Akins,
Michael P. but the name he was often called was Mako, a childhood
nickname from when his younger brother had been unable to
pronounce his name correctly.  "I'm going to check Edward, see
what he's doing."
    "Okay...I should have a vector plotted in just under two
minutes," the woman said, not taking her eyes off the data
readouts in her visor.  Mako got up with the characteristic
slowness of a man moving in weightlessness, pushed back through
the hatch at the rear of the cockpit, back past living and
sleeping quarters into the cargo bay.  As expected, he found
Edward there.
    Edward was no normal human.  He looked more like a German
Shepherd dog, colored black, grey, and tan, that happened to have
a human shape.  He had been born in Coalition laboratories,
mutated to track down rogue magicians and psychics whom the
Coalition had decided were "undesirable."  Since that time, he
himself had gone rogue, defecting from the Coalition to join the
free-thinkers at the city of Lazlo.
    Right now, Edward was stepping into a metal suit of armor.
It was painted in brown and tan desert camouflage colors, but
with the original black showing through where the paint had been
chipped in places.  As Edward clicked the parts into place, first
his legs and then his body were encompassed.  Then Edward reached
out for the large chest plate/thruster pack assembly and lowered
it over his head.  It locked into place, and Edward reached for a
helmet, made in the shape of a skull.  Anyone who was familiar
with Coalition equipment would recognize what Edward was wearing
as a somewhat repainted PA-061 SAMAS Strategic Armor Military
Assault Suit power armor unit.
    "Going out?" Mako asked, floating in the doorway.
    "Yeah," Edward said in his gravelly voice that sounded like
a cross between a bark and human speech.  He picked up a long
black rifle and attached an ammo feed tube to the side.  "I'm
going out there where Jake is."  He lowered the helmet on
carefully over his canine head, then floated over toward the
lower airlock in the center of the bay floor.  "Better get
clear."
    "Right."  Mako moved back and closed the bulkhead hatch as
the first door slid open, and Edward floated down into it.  Red
rotating lights set into the side of the cargo bay came on,
projecting the warning--inner airlock door unsecure.  Then it
slid shut, and the glass plate in the center of the door frosted
over as the outer door opened, letting in hard vacuum.
    As the warning lights went out, Mako moved back into the
cargo bay, stepping around the airlock back to the huge vehicle
that also occupied the cargo bay.  "Ahh, baby," he said.  "Don't
worry, one way or the other we're going to be on the ground again
before long."
    It looked sort of like a large mobile home or RV from before
the coming of the Rifts, except that it was a little larger and
covered with armor plate.  Across the front, spray-painted
proudly, was the name "RAMBLER II" and a small smiley face with
pointed canine ears on it.  That had been Edward's work.  There
were a couple of hatches and a gun turret on the top.
    Mako grinned.  The Rambler II, and all her equipment and
crew, would be on the ground again ere long.  They HAD to be.
They'd been too long in space.
    It had been six months since they'd entered the one known
Rift that led to the orbital community.  The Rift had been the
only way to get there, since orbital defenses destroyed
everything that tried to blast off from the earth.  Their
assignment had been to gather information, then return it to
Lazlo for the betterment of humanity.  They had managed to land
on Freedom Station, operated by what had been the old U.S.A., and
get jobs there posing as freebooters (orbital jacks-of-all-trades
with somewhat roguish reputations).  After finding out the basic
orbital situation, they had, in a daring raid, pulled off the
theft of a large cargo ship converted for space exploration.
Then, after spending some time in free orbit, they were headed
for Earth when a rather large Rift had gotten in the way...
    "Enough," Mako said.  "Put the past behind until you can
afford to re-examine it.  For now, I must concentrate on finding
out where we are."
    Mako floated back up to the cockpit.  "Well?" he asked.
    Sharon shook her head.  "It's not earth."
    "What is it?"
    "It's a binary system...a G0-class primary and also a white
dwarf...gravitic sensors seem to indicate a planet at the L-4
Lagrange point."  The woman reached out and tapped some buttons.
"I'd say we're a few weeks out from it, at max delta-vee.  I've
already locked in the course."
    "We're not going to try to go back?"
    "Do you really want to go back?"
    Mako thought for a minute, and he had to admit that he
didn't.  Exploring the unknown was one of the things he lived
for.  Lazlo could wait.  "Will our provisions hold out?" Mako
asked.
    Sharon Lacey shrugged.  "I think they should...this shuttle
was fully stocked for exploration, remember?  I'd say food for
twelve for six months will DEFINITELY last seven for six weeks.
Especially when one of them's a 'borg."
    Mako nodded.  "Right.  Does this ship have much of a
library?"
    "Let's see..."  She called up listings on her visor.
"Technical manuals, romance novels, hmmm...some pre-Rifts books.
They keep their libraries up, those orbitals."
    "I'll have to check those out.  I'm going to have plenty of
time in which to do it, I think..."
    "Okay...say, let's check on Jake and Edward, shall we?"
    "Roger."  Sharon Lacey reached out and tapped some controls.
A video screen on the communication console (right behind the
co-pilot's station) lit up with a view from the front, along
the ship toward the rear.  "There they are."
    The vidscreen showed two figures standing on the hull; one
Edward in his SAMAS, the other a somewhat larger powersuit.  The
sun glinted off its reflective chrome construction, illuminating
the big cannon mounted behind its right shoulder.
    Mako thumbed on the radio.  "Mako to Jake.  What's up?"
    A burst of static, then, "No sign of any hostiles.  Mako,
where the hell are we?"
    Mako shrugged, then remembered that Jake couldn't see the
shrug.  "I don't know.  Another dimension, certainly."
    "Oh, yeah, well duh, like we only passed through a Rift.
But what dimension?  You've been in some others, do you recognize
this one?"
    "Jake, I've only been to three other worlds, and two of
those only briefly.  I don't recognize this one at all, does that
answer your question?"
    "I suppose.  Aren't we going back?"
    "No...we think we're picking up a planet closer in, and
we're going to investigate."
    "Oh, that's great.  That's just great."
    "What, are you in some kind of hurry or something?" Mako
asked.  "I would think you'd welcome the chance for some
adventure..."
    "What I would WELCOME is getting my feet back on solid
ground.  You know what six months in reduced-gee does to a person?"
    "Jake, Freedom Station has the same gravity levels as
Earth," Mako pointed out.
    "Yeah, but STILL, it's not the same..." Jake grumbled.  Mako
thought this an appropriate time to switch off again.
    "Six weeks, you say?" Mako asked.
    Sharon nodded, as more data scrolled up on her visor.
    "I guess I'll go check out the library, then," Mako said.
"Wonder if they've got any Mark Twain..."

    An hour or so later, Jake and Edward came in, since there
really wasn't anything to DO outside.  A few minutes after that,
Jake stormed onto the bridge.
    Jake was a little taller than Mako, and he had some muscles
(though he was no Arnold Schwartzenegger).  His hair was red and
unkempt, his eyes were hazel.  He wore a set of standard-issue
crew coveralls that said "Preston, Jacob G." on the name tag, but
call him Jacob and you were in for a world of hurt.  He sat down
in the co-pilot's seat which Mako had recently vacated and
flipped a few switches.  "Hmph," he snorted. "We're heading in
for that planet?"
    Sharon Lacey nodded.
    "Hmm, I'd better check the defensive armament, then..."

    In another part of the ship, the rest of the crew were
waking up.  The first to arise was Arla Danie.  She was a fairly
attractive young woman, with dark hair, dark eyes, and ruby red
lips a great deal of the time.  She pushed off from the bed, then
sniffed the air.  She looked around curiously, and closed her
eyes, inhaled deeply.  "That's interesting..." she said.  "When
did we cross into another dimension?"
    Arla was a Shifter, a mage who specialized in channeling
magical energy to open and control Rifts in the fabric of space
and time.  As such, many were a bit leery of her, for Shifters
had a bad reputation for summoning evil creatures and killing a
good many people.
    Arla slapped the wall intercom.  "Arla to Sharon."  There
were a couple of cheeps as the computer routed her request, then
the answer came back.  "This is Sharon here, go ahead, Arla."
    Arla sat back down on the bed and started going through her
yoga stretching exercises.  "Why didn't you wake me when we
passed through a Rift?"
    "Mako's orders," was the reply.  "He didn't feel up to
having half a dozen people at once clamoring around asking what
was going on."
    "Okay, so what's our present situation and what are we doing
about it?"  Arla listened as Sharon explained.  "Six weeks?" she
asked.  Then she sighed.  "Oh, well...guess I'll have plenty of
time to work on my magic..."

    The next man up was Steele.  If you wanted to get technical,
Steele wasn't a man.  He had been a man, but was no longer.  The
only part of him that was human now was his brain, and perhaps a
few internal organs.  The rest was mechanical.  Totally,
entirely, completely chromed.
    Steele's photoreceptors blinked open, and he reached out for
the cable beside the bed.  He plugged the cyberjack into the
socket on his head and, after a moment of disorientation, hovered
inside a virtual representation of the ship's cockpit,
represented in ghostly electronic tones, with a holographic
Sharon sitting in the pilot's seat.
    In the real cockpit, Sharon looked up and noticed the
electronic glowing form of Steele painted in her visor.  "Hi,
Steele," she said, long since used to his virtual comings and
goings.
    Steele looked around.  "We're not near earth," he said, and
his voice came through Sharon's headset.
    "We went through a Rift," Sharon explained.  "We're about
six weeks out from a planet."
    "What you THINK is a planet," Steele corrected.  "Gravitic
sensors indicate anomalies in this region; the planet could be
anomalous as well."
    "Negative," Sharon replied.  "That region is relatively
stable, and readings have not changed in over 4.2 hours.
Fluctuations in this area are constant."
    Steele was silent.  Then he flickered out, as his
perceptions expanded to encompass the complete sensory spectrum
available to the spacecraft.  A few seconds later, he flickered
back in.  "What is the plan once we reach the planet?"
    "We'll see when we get there."  Sharon pressed a key, then
leaned back.  Actually, the ship all but flew itself, and it
wasn't strictly necessary that she be in the pilot's seat at all.
But with her affinity for machines, it was about the only place
she really wanted to be.
    Steele continued to stand there, silently.  He wasn't one to
waste words on idle conversation.  Then a minute or so later, he
vanished again, with no advance warning.

    Mako, now wearing coveralls instead of the bulky space suit,
sat in the small cubicle that passed for a library on board the
exploration shuttle, reading a datadisk from his pocket viewer.
The name of the book was THE COMING OF THE QUANTUM CATS, by
Frederick Pohl.  It was all about dimensional travel, and really
was a good piece of fiction, too.  It was too bad that the
dimensions weren't as neatly separated in reality as they were in
that book.
    Then the door cheeped and slid open, and a young man,
perhaps in his late teens, floated in.  He wore ships' coveralls,
too, with the name tag reading Piercy, Sir Blake P.  His hair was
blond and unruly, his eyes dark blue.  The top of his coveralls
was unzipped, exposing a bit of gleaming metal beneath.  "Ah,
Mako," he said, in a voice not unlike that of Deep Space 9's Dr.
Julian Bashir.  "I thought I'd find you here."
    "Hello, Sir Blake," Mako said, releasing the disk viewer (it
just floated there).  "What brings you here?"
    "I heard about the new dimension to explore," Blake
explained.  "And, well..."
    "Yes?" Mako asked.
    Piercy sighed.  "I'm bored.  I was hoping you might want to
practice zero-gee fencing with me?"
    Mako shook his head.  "You know I'm no good at that..."
    "I know, sir, but if you don't try, how can you get any
better?"
    Mako chuckled.  "You'll be bored for a good six weeks, you
know.  Who are you going to pester for fencing practice then?"
    Sir Blake sighed, downfallen.  "I guess you're right, sir."
    "Hey, now, look here."  Mako picked up another disk reader
and pushed it over toward Sir Blake, who had no trouble catching
it with his cyberknight's reflexes.
    "What's this?" Blake asked, glancing at the screen.  "An
English translation of LA MORTE D'ARTHUR?"  His face brightened.
"Oh, thank you, Mako!
    "That should keep you occupied for a week or so.  Be off
with you."  He smiled and waved Blake out of the room, so he
could continue with his own reading, and chuckled a little after
Blake was gone.  The young cyberknight's mind was full of
thoughts of bravery and valor and daring deeds.  He hadn't gotten
to do much of that on the station, being relegated to a position
as security guard, which he bridled at.  Mako was certain that
the youth would insist on being the first off of the ship
whenever it was able to land.

    "Hey, Edward, how's it going?"  The voice came from the
large dark-skinned man, clad in leather jacket, pants, and World
War I-style flight cap and goggles, who glided into the cargo bay
as Edward was running through his martial arts kata.  The Dog Boy
was stripped down to his shorts, and was sweating pretty hard.
"Hey, man, I thought dogs didn't sweat!"
    Edward made as if to throw the vibro-blade he was holding at
the man, who held out his arms and laughed.  Edward chuckled,
too, a curious sound halfway between a bark and a laugh.  "Hey,
Rory.  You hear the news?"
    "News?  Oh, you mean about the Rift."
    "Yep."  Edward sheathed the knife and bent to unbuckle the
straps for the magnetic shoes that had held his legs in place
while he'd been going through his motions.  "What do you think?"
    "Heck, man, it's great to be able to explore somewhere
without the Coalition always on our arses," Rory said.  "But then
again, I'm not sure how my devices are going to work without all
the magic that surges through the old home planet."
    "You could always give up that magic mumbo-jumbo and just
build plain machines," Edward joked, grabbing his towel out of
the air and floating past Rory into the passage to the living
section.
    "Oh, yeah, and you could stop sniffing down supernatural
monsters and magic-users and just sit around fetching sticks,"
Rory shot back, following him.  "How's Mako taking it?"
    Edward snorted.  "You know him.  Always looking for new
horizons to explore."  He banged on a door panel, and it slid
open.  He floated inside--it was the 'fresher, replete with
zero-gee toilet, sink, and shower.
    The zero-gee shower was an interesting device...it resembled
nothing so much as a large plastic bag with a water hose and an
air hose leading to it.  The way it was operated was for the
subject to climb in, put on an oxygen mask, zip it up, and turn
on the water spray.  When the shower was over, a vacuum pump
would suck all the water out and the subject would climb out and
dry off.
    Rory followed Edward, stopping at the doorway.  Edward threw
the towel down and turned.  "What, are you going to watch me
shower or something?  Get out of here!"
    "All right, all right..."  Rory backed away from the door,
which slid shut.  Rory grinned, and pushed back toward the cargo
bay.  Once inside, he grabbed one of the small thrust pistols
from the wall, aimed and fired it.  The pistol was about the size
of a staplegun, and contained about a one-minute supply of thrust
from a CO2 cell.  Its purpose: for maneuvering in zero-gee.
There were two other cells, spares, in little clips on the side.
And Rory loved it.  He planned to make a magically-powered
version, if he could find the time.
    Rory's full name was Rory Calhoun; he was a TechnoWizard.
He dabbled in magic, but unlike Shifters (or Ley Line Walkers,
for that matter), his strength lay in combining it with with
technology, to produce devices that could be recharged by
expending psionic or magic energy.
    After a few minutes of zooming around in the mostly-empty
cargo bay, Rory came back down to the ground and activated the
technowizard electromagnetic-soled boots he'd created in his
spare time on the space station.  Leaving the thrust pistol
syspended in mid-air, he clumped over to where the Rambler II was
clamped down.
    Walking in magnetic boots is different from walking on the
ground--it strains different muscles.  Instead of just walking,
it is necessary to pull the magnetized sole all the way free of
the metal deck, shove it forward, and step down hard as it grabs
the deck plates again.  Progress is slow, and can cause all the
muscles in the entire leg to ache after a protracted session
unless you're used to it.  Rory was used to it.
    At last Rory reached the RV, and pulled the door open.  He'd
been coming here a great deal since they'd left Freedom Station.
Perhaps because it was relatively familiar to him--they'd
travelled together in it for a good deal of time on earth before
going to space.  Or maybe it was simply the novelty of floating
around in such a familiar place where gravity was usual.  Or
maybe just a place in which to be alone.  Regardless, Rory
climbed inside and shut the door behind him.

    Jake sat at the copilot's station in the cockpit, looking
rather annoyed.  "Don't tell me that's all this thing has?  A few
lasers, a railgun, and a missile launcher?  My Glitter Boy has
more firepower than this thing!"
    Sharon shrugged, turning her chair to face him.  "Well, I'm
sorry it's not to your liking. Perhaps we should go back to
Freedom Station and steal another?"
    Jake swore, got up, and stalked red-faced off the bridge
(inasmuch as someone floating in zero-gee can stalk, anyway).  "I
can't believe I have to spend six weeks stuck on board this
spaceship with YOU!" he threw back as he left.  Sharon giggled.
She knew she shouldn't, but she couldn't help herself; baiting
Jake was such FUN.
    Jake muttered angrily under his breath as he floated back
toward the cargo bay.  He felt like going out and shooting
something, but there wasn't anything to shoot.  "I'm gonna
develop an ulcer or something if this keeps up," he muttered.  He
almost bumped into Sir Blake Piercy, who was paying more
attention to LA MORTE D'ARTHUR than to where he was going.  "Hey,
watch it!" Jake muttered angrily.
    "I'm sorry, Jake," Sir Blake said contritely.  "I shall try
to watch where I'm going in the future."  He put the disk reader
away.
    Dammit, yelling at Blake was no fun, because he would never
yell back.  He never got into arguments.  But wait a minute...
"Hey, Sir Blake.  How is your zero-gee combat?"
    "I have tried to develop some skill in it," the cyberknight
said.  "I'm not sure how good it is, though..."
    "Uh-huh.  Well, meet me in the cargo bay in ten minutes and
we'll see just how good you are, kid."

    "Captain on the bridge."  Sharon giggled.
    "Sharon, knock it off," Mako said, sitting at the copilot's
station.
    "Sorry."  She reached out, tapped some buttons.  "I've
re-checked our course.  All thrust vectors are set, engines are
on-line, we're ready to blast."
    "What are we waiting for, then?" Mako asked.
    "Your go."
    "All right, do it."
    "Roger, Captain."
    "Sharon--!"
    Sharon Lacey adjusted her microphone.  "Attention, all
personnel.  Attention, all personnel.  Secure for acceleration in
five minutes.  Secure for acceleration in five minutes."
    In the cargo bay, the announcement distracted Sir Blake
Piercy for just the split-second Jake Preston needed.  THWACK!
    "Ouch!" Sir Blake cried, as he flew into a pile of empty
plastic storage crates, scattering them all over.  "Very well,
you win..."
    Jake floated over to help him out.  "Thanks, kid."  He pushed
some crates away.
    Sir Blake got up, dusted himself off.  "We'd better restack
these before the acceleration starts, or they could go flying
everywhere."
    Jake muttered something incomprehensible, but he did help Sir
Blake stack the storage boxes back up.  They had magnetic plates
on the sides and top, so they fit together like building blocks.
A couple of minutes later, the stack was neat again.
    "One minute to acceleration...better get to your shock
couches, guys!"
    Sir Blake thumbed the intercom switch.  "Hey, could you hold
that for a minute or two?"
    "All right, but hurry up!"
    "We're on our way."  As Jake turned to go, the young
cyberknight reached out his hand.  Jake growled, but reached out
and took it.  They shook.  "Good fight, Jake."
    "C'mon, kid, let's get to our couches."
    Rory floated out the side door of the Rambler II and floated
up after them.

    As everyone strapped into their acceleration couches
(Steele's couch was additionally reinforced against the great
mass of his cyborg body), Sharon reviewed the course once more on
her projection visor.  It looked all right...
    Six of the acceleration couches were in the cockpit--they
were the command seats for the crew stations.  Sharon and Mako
were in the front two, Arla Danie and Jake were in the next two,
and Edward and Rory took the back pair.
    The only ones who were not in the cockpit were Steele and Sir 
Blake...but actually, Steele WAS in the cockpit, in a very 
important sense.  He was plugged into the computer again, so he 
was actually standing in the middle of the bridge.  But Sharon 
Lacey, with her VR goggles, was the only one who could see him.  
Sir Blake was on the couch in his room, reading through his copy 
of LA MORTE D'ARTHUR.
    "Three...two...one...firing main engines," Sharon intoned.
Then the thrusters fired, and the ship began to pick up speed.
It was going faster and faster toward the interior of the solar
system...though what was there remained unknown.

ADMIN (Chris Meadows):
    Sharon J. Lacey is not meant to bear any resemblance to
Lacey on FurryMUCK; I just liked the name.  Arla Danie is also
not meant to bear any resemblance to Danie on FurryMUCK; I didn't
even know there was a Danie there 'til after I'd written this.
    By the way, if anyone with a warp-capable ship out there
wants to help out, or you want to get in touch with my characters
whenever they land, or you just plain want to write on my thread,
please get in touch with me at the address above.  Please don't
post anything using my characters without emailing it to me
first, okay?  Thanks...

Disclaimer, to make the people at Palladium happy:
    I am not, nor have I ever been, nor will I ever likely be, nor
do I claim to be associated with Palladium Books.  Any trademarks I
use herein, such as RIFTS, etc., are the ownership of Palladium and
they can have them.  I don't expect to make any money off of this,
it's just for my enjoyment and the enjoyment of others.  Palladium is
just getting some free advertising from my endeavors.  (You hear me,
everybody?  Go out and buy RIFTS!  Buy as many other Palladium books
as you can!  Thanks!)
--
Chris Meadows           ||  Andrea & Sheryl
CHM173S@SMSVMA.BITNET   ||  [AU] thread, alt.pub.dragons-inn
CHM173S@VMA.SMSU.EDU    ||  --------------------------------
CMEADOWS@NYX.CS.DU.EDU  ||  A supporter of rec.arts.creative
--
Chris Meadows  | "My parents became Cyberpunks and all they left me              
CHM173S@SMSVMA | was this dark future..." --CYBERGENERATIONS blurb              
CHM173S@VMA.SMSU.EDU   | "I'd kill for a new Thundergod.  In fact,              
CMEADOWS@NYX.CS.DU.EDU | I think I will." --GoGanger, CYBERGENERATIONS          


From CHM173S@vma.smsu.edu.Ext (Andrea and Sheryl (Chris Meadows))
Newsgroups: alt.pub.havens-rest
Subject: ADMIN: [Constellation] Correction, and Should I Repost?
Date: Sun, 25 Apr 93 22:37:41 CDT

Andrea and Sheryl here.  It has come to our attention that there was
an error in our first [Constellation] post.  Toward the end, where
we mentioned everyone except Steele lying down on the shock couches
in the cockpit, we completely left out Sir Blake Piercy.  (We also
left him out of the count earlier when discussing food provisions,
we counted 7 "and one of them's a 'borg" when it should have been 8.
He's a tricky one, that cyberknight...we think he hides behind our
backs when we're counting the characters.)  Anyway, we just wanted
to mention that he was probably in the shock couch in his quarters,
and likely reading LA MORTE D'ARTHUR at the time of the engine firing.

As for those of you to whom this makes absolutely no sense at all,
you may not have received the whole thing.  We know of one site where
the first entry, the "Prologue: Let's Meet the Players" entry containing
the story itself, didn't arrive, but the technical files we posted did.
If you DIDN'T receive this post, please tell me; if there are enough of
you who failed to get it, we'll repost it.

We hope you enjoy [Constellation], and we would welcome feedback.  Also,
perhaps an offer to assist might be appreciated, else Mako's group is
going to have to spend about six weeks cooped up together in the [as-yet
unnamed spaceship], and I don't know what's going to happen by the time
they reach Serendipity.  ;)

But please, PLEASE email us before you post anything.  Please send your
post along, so we can proof it, change anything that doesn't fit the
characters, and send it back.  Especially now, when the characters are
hardly defined at all, an incautious, hasty post could really mess things
up.

Anyway, thanks for listening, and we hope you enjoy our thread.  Remember,
we want to hear from you!  Later...
--
Chris Meadows           ||  Andrea & Sheryl: authors-@-large
CHM173S@SMSVMA.BITNET   ||  [AU] thread, alt.pub.dragons-inn
CHM173S@VMA.SMSU.EDU    ||  --------------------------------
CMEADOWS@NYX.CS.DU.EDU  ||  A supporter of rec.arts.creative


Subject: [Constellation] [Cain] Waiting By the Phone...
Date: Wed, 28 Apr 93 18:53:15 GMT

"I'm waiting by the phone...waiting for you to call me up and
tell me I'm not alone..."
                        --Soul Asylum, "Someone to Shove"

    A blip showed up on a controller's flight screen at Scaler
Field's control center.  At first he paid it no mind, then he
noticed the the scansystems were pegging it as some kind of small
starship.  "Hey, what...?"  He hit the subspace transponder, and
waited for the signal to come back in.  Nothing.  He tried
hailing on hyperspace frequencies.  Still nothing.  He even tried
realspace radio, FM band, even though the ship was too close to
the anomalies for it to get through, and no response would come
back for several hours anyway if it did.  Still nothing, of
course.
    The operator was beginning to feel a little panicked
now...especially when he checked the tracking log and noticed
that the ship had been out there, in realspace, for all of
four days.
    "What the heck--?  How did it get left out there like that?"
he wondered.  "No matter.  Better get a spacetug out there right
away."  He pressed a switch (which made that really neat loud
snapping sound from Star Trek (the Old Series)) and spoke into a
microphone.  As he switched off again, he wondered once again how
the ship hadn't been noticed before.
    About forty-five minutes later, the ship had totally slipped
his mind, even when the clamor arose about IAG-NS 227, which was
passing close to that approximate area and had reported a fierce
space battle raging...
    Some memorable events had happened on board the spaceship
over the last four days.  They all reacted to the confinement in
different ways.  It wasn't as if they hadn't all been forced to
make longer journeys in the even more cramped Rambler II, but at
least in the RV one was able to get out and move around in the
wide open spaces outside.  Here, space was all that WAS
outside--wide, open, airless, and plenty of it.
    Jake Preston took it the hardest.  He had always had a touch
of claustrophobia, and being locked up inside the ship made him
go a little strange.  During the second day of their captivity,
he had yelled at Sir Blake Piercy, who had, to both his and
Jake's surprise, yelled back loudly and forcefully. Jake had then
gotten a few of the 1-liter plastic jugs of cheap beer he'd
purchased on Freedom Station from somewhere, gone into the cargo
bay with a disk player, and proceeded to get sloshed drinking
toasts to his Glitter Boy while blasting Garth Brooks' "Friends
in Low Places" at maximum volume, much to everyone else's
annoyance.  (Jake was the only one of the team who had really
developed a taste for country music, and the only person Mako had
ever met who could withstand prolonged doses of "Friends in Low
Places" and "Achey Breaky Heart.")
    Sir Blake, who had been quite alarmed at his own
behavior, had cloistered himself in his quarters, refusing to
come out--he said he "wasn't ready" and needed "spiritual
purification and cleansing."  Sharon Lacey had to put his
meals under his door, otherwise he would probably have gone
hungry.  From his room, if one listened carefully enough, one
could usually hear the strains of Enya or Clannad filtering
out.  He hadn't emerged for three days.
    The others were taking their confinement pretty well.  It
gave Rory time to tinker with new and interesting gadgets,
including the magic-powered thrust pistol he'd been meaning to
create, and Edward played cards with him, Arla, or whoever
else would play.  He also spent some time reading, as did
Mako, or listening to music.
    Amazingly enough, Steele listened to music, too, though
he would never tell anyone about it.  Even though he let the
others think that he was just an emotionless machine, his was
still a human mind with human needs.  So he plugged his CD
player into his headjack and listened to sad songs.  John
Denver, Elton John, whatever was depressing enough to merit his
attention.  It kept him going.
    Arla Danie mostly listened to rock from the 1970s and
1980s--tunes like "It's a Kind of Magic" by Queen, or "Magic
Carpet Ride" by Steppenwolf, or "Magic Man" by Heart.  Of
course, she had her magic to keep her amused as well...
    As for Mako and Sharon, they spent a lot of time in the
cockpit.  The view was great, and any new information that
came in would be received there first.  They also discussed
the planet, and what they were going to do once they got there.
    "I wonder if it's technologically advanced," Mako said,
gazing off into space (literally).  "I sure hope it is.  If we
can't land there, I think that Jake is going to go off the
deep end."
    Sharon adjusted her visor and punched some keys on the
control panel.  An odd staticky noise filled the cockpit.
Mako clapped his hands over his ears.  "What the--?"
    "Some kind of transmission, I think," Sharon said.  "FM
band.  But there's too much EM interference from these Rifts
out here...it's not getting through."
    "So we know there's SOMEONE there, anyway..." Mako said.
    "Or not...it could be simply caused by the Rifts."
    "So, do we land?" Mako asked.
    "Depends," Sharon said.  "Remember, they built ships of this
type for reentry but not lift from a 1-G planet.  If we land,
we'll need boosters or something to take off again."
    "Yes...that's right.  I wonder if we could retrofit..."
    "You're putting the cart before the horse, Mako," Sharon
reminded him.  "We don't even know that there are people in
there."
    "There have to be," Mako said.  "There are people everywhere,
why not here?"
    "Hmph, some logic.  I could give you a dozen reasons..."

                        *****

    Blips swore and nearly threw his headset down in disgust when
he lost the link with his captain.  He knew he wouldn't be able
to reastablish it. He then turned his attention back to the
viewscreen and the battle raging outside, hoping that enough of
the message had gotten through.
    "Hey Darcie?  Who's suiting up for the next wing?  That
first Black Drake should be ready pretty soon."  There was no
answer.  "Darcie?"  Blips looked around the bridge, not seeing
the commander anywhere.  He turned to the security officer, who
was busy readying another attack on the enemy ship. "Khoran,
where's the commander?"
    "He just left," Khoran shrugged, not looking up from his
frantic work. "Probably just went to use the lav."  Lieutenant
Darr was unconcerned, but Blips knew his friend better than to
just shrug off his sudden absence.  It wasn't like Darcie to
dissapear like that without saying anything, even if it was just
to use the lav.
    He worried no more about it, however, as his attention was
rivetted once more on his job of watchdog for the fighters.
"Moondog, Whirlwind, this is Eagle Eye.  I've spotted some eggs
about to hatch and take their first flight from the nest.  I
suggest you get down to it and take care of the momma bird before
she hatches anymore.  There they are," he said with mock pride,
"two little hatchlings."
    "Moondog here.  I've got them, Blips," came the answer over
his headset. "Babes, you take care of the momma bird, and I'll go
greet these little birdies.  I've got your six, Dandra."
    The battle raged on outside.  Meanwhile, inside the
SOULSTAR, the door to the launch bay slid open and a figure
strode purposely though, just fastening up his flight suit.
Jaana Cantz had been on her way to the comm link to notify her
cammander that the first 'Drake was repaired and ready to go, but
she stayed her hand in surprise as she saw him standing right
in front of her. In a flight suit.
    "Darcie, what are you doing?  Surely you don't mean to..."
She was cut off by his raised hand and terse reply.
    "Yes Jaana, I mean to and I'm going to."  He turned to the
two mechs who were loading the missles into the bays, and
hollared for them to hurry up.
    "But Darcie, you haven't flown a combat mission since we
were on the Blade."  Her eyes widened as she suddenly realised
why he was suiting up. "Darcie, she isn't worth it.  You'll just
end up getting yourself hurt, and it won't make a difference."
    "Look, Jaana, we don't have anybody else.  We lost two of
our pilots yesterday, and you know it.  Khoran and Blips are
needed on the bridge. I'm not.  I wasn't doing anything usefull,
and I won't sit around and watch my crew be shot to pieces any
longer.  End of discussion."
    Jaana tried to say something, but he stared her down, and
she turned to go to work on the other Drake.  He was right, she
knew.  With Cain still on that stupid planet, and with Tarn and
Mack now gone, they had little choice.  Khoran was needed to man
the weapons of the SOULSTAR, and Hiroshi was still in sickbay.
She sighed as Lianna entered the bay, also suited up, but a little
too late.  Darcie had already climbed into the cockpit.
    The mechs wheeled the Black Drake medium fighter into the
slot, then backed off as a huge door slid down, sealing off the
launch tube from the rest of the bay.  A moment later, the tube
became exacuated as the outer door opened and the catapult was
engaged, launching the fighter into space.
    "Eagle Eye, this is Presto.  In space and ready to engage."
    "Presto?"  Blips had a blank look on his face for an
instant. Who the hell was that.  he hadn't heard that callsign
since...
    "SHIT!" Blips swore as he suddenly realised what Darcie was
doing. Leaving without saying anything wasn't like him, but doing
something stupid was.  He flicked a switch and opened a link to
the launch bay.   "Jaana, how could you let him do that?!"
Without waiting for the reply, he was back online to the fighters
outside.  "Eagle Eye to Presto.  Return immediately.  Do not
engage."
    "Negative, Blips.  I'm in on this one.  You just keep me
informed."
    Troy swore again, but Khoran just threw him a helpless
glance.  Another thing he knew about his friend was that when he
_did_ something stupid, there was no way to talk him out of it.
Blips sighed, and shook his head, silently wishing Darcie luck.

                        *****

    "Hey..."  Arla floated into the cockpit clutching her head.
"I just detected some sort of disturbance, in that direction.
Like a Rift opening, almost...but much briefer, more
concentrated.  Three of them...that direction.  It's giving me a
headache."  She pointed downward and to the starboard side of the
ship.  "I thought you ought to know about it, since it might be
important."
    "Huh?  I'll check it..."  Sharon touched the side of the
visors, and they shaded completely to black.  She glanced in the
direction Arla was pointing, and the inside of the visor
displayed an unobstructed view of space in that approximate
direction....  "Wow!"
    "What is it?"  Mako flipped a switch to send the output
to a comm screen, and he nodded at the sight.  Having lived
for months on Freedom Station, there was not a one of them who
would not recognize a distant space battle.
    Mako sat down at the console and punched some switches.
Maneuvering jets fired as the ship changed attitude, then the
main thrusters came on line (but gently, so as not to hurt
anybody through the unexpected force).  "Hey, what are you
doing?" Sharon asked.
    "Setting course for that battle," Mako said.  "I want to see
those ships up close."
    "But is that wise?"
    "I didn't get to where I am today by being wise," Mako said.
    Arla, never one to pass on a jibe, said, "We know, we
know..."
    "Sharon, try to zoom in, will you?"
    "Roger."  The image concentrated, grew larger.  There were
three ships, one small, two larger, and half a dozen fighters
flying back and forth between them.  The fighters weaved in and
out, avoiding each others' cannon blasts and firing missiles.  It
soon became obvious that two fighters, apparently from the
smaller ship, were taking on the rest of the fighters AND the
larger ships--and winning.
    "They're good," Mako said--though he knew little of space
combat, he did know how to pick a winner.  "I'm setting course to
come closer to that smaller ship.  If they're fighting that well
against those odds, they must be fighting FOR something."
    "This from the scholar of science..." Arla muttered drily.
    "Hey, it works out in practice," Mako said.  "Besides, one of
the things that drives me most is sympathy for the underdog.
Whoa!"
    The screen blanked for a moment as one of the destroyers
exploded, and a few moments later another starfighter joined in,
this one of a different type than the others.  They exchanged
more shots back and forth.  Mako swore. "I can't just stay out
here and watch the fight...what if they need help?"
    "But you just said they were fighting well..." Arla said.
    "I know what I said.  But you know me, I'm never one to stay
out of a good fight."  His fingers played over the control board.
"Attention everyone!  Attention everyone!  We will be undergoing
emergency acceleration in ten seconds!  You know the drill!"
    In the crew quarters, Rory and Edward looked at each other
over their poker hands.  The pot had gone to twenty soy crackers
and a smoked sausage.  Edward was grinning because he had three
sevens, but Rory was grinning wider not only because he had four
threes, but also because he KNEW what was in Edward's hand
because the cards were a, ahem, special deck he'd put together in
a moment of boredom.
    Then the announcement came.  "Aw, damn," Rory said.  "Let's
get up to the cockpit and see what's going on."  He pushed
forward, out the hatch and into the main corridor.  Edward
started to follow, then hesitated, reached back and grabbed the
smoked sausage from the pot.  THEN he pushed off, sausage gripped
firmly in his mouth.

ADMIN: This is a joint post by Chris Meadows and Daniel
Treutler.  I would like to thank Dani for being so helpful,
both here and on alt.pub.dragons-inn.  It's really fun to
write these things, isn't it?

[To Be Continued Very Shortly...]


From CHM173S@vma.smsu.edu (Andrea and Sheryl (Chris Meadows))
Newsgroups: alt.pub.havens-rest
Subject: [Cain] [Constellation]
Date: Thu, 29 Apr 93 15:50:07 CDT

    "Moondog, this is Presto.  I've come to keep you company.
Please advise me of best course of action."
    Foegarth looked at the fast approaching fighter with
surprise.  "Commander?  What are you doing..."  The surprise was
quickly replaced with pride as he shouted back.  "Hai!  Being
brave, that's what!  Welcome to hell, sir.  Just stick on my
wing, and you should be alright.  Dandra's taking the capital
ship, we're just keeping the fighters off her back."
    "Affirmative wingleader.  Ready to engage."  Darcie rolled
his fighter and popped up abreast and slightly behind Foegarth as
they bore down upon the fighters that even now were beginning to
fire upon Dandra as she made her torpedo run.  His Black Drake
was not as fast or maneuverable as the Starslayers Moondog and
Whirlwind flew, but it had heavier armour and guns. He followed
Moondog's lead and centered the closest fighter in his sights.
    As Foegarth's laser blasts bit into the rear shields of the
fighter, Darcie pressed down on the trigger and added his own
cannons to the blow.  The pilot of the enemy vessel had not seen
the two of them drop in on his six, and was an easy target from
behind.  The six cannons of Darcie's 'Drake fired in unison.
The first blow smashed the others' shields completely.  The
second and third tore into the metal itself.  A fourth blast
completly cracked the engine casing and split the rear end of the
fighter in two.  A moment later all that was left of it was
debris floating calmly through the dark empty space.
    "Good shot, Presto!"  Foegarth was obviously impressed.  "You
sure you haven't flown combat in five years?"
    Darcie laughed.  "Yeah, I'm sure.  It was nothing, really.
Remember, I'm fresh out, and my blasters come back online
quickly.  Sorry to steal your kill, but them's the breaks."
    "No need to apologize, sir," the Alzar laughed back.  "Just
do it again. I already have five notches today.  No need to be
greedy.  Look what it did to those other guys today."  They
turned and changed vectors to attack the experienced fighter jock
who still expertly tailed Dandra.  It was time for business.
Foegarth opened a hailing channel and began to hurl insults at
the enemy ace--however, he was a seasoned pilot and knew better
than to give up a chase to engage another just because of a few
spoken words.  His companion however, did not.  The other fighter
broke off of his leaders wing and made to intercept Foegarth and
Darcie.
    The blue-furred Alzar smiled wickedly as he closed head on
with the other fighter.  He began to fire his lasers, not
changing his course at all.  He had played chicken before, and
he'd always won, as his ability to play it again testified.  One
thing he'd learned about it though, was never to do it unless you
have backup or some other kind of out.  Sure, head on you did the
most damage to the other guy, but he did the same damage to you.
It was kind of a dirty tactic, but nobody said war was fair.
Besides, it was even dirtier to send such force after a smaller
ship.
    The tactic was simple.  He had lured the other ship into
closing head on with him.  Meanwhile, his wingman had slipped out
of sight directly behind him.  The other guy couldn't see Darcie,
and he was most likely shielded from radar as well when he hid
behind his wingleaders ship.  Once the two others began to fire
on one another, Darcie simply pulled back on his stick and
appeared above and behind Foegarth.  From his higher angle, he
could also shoot the enemy fighter head on, and the victim of the
ruse could only fire back at one of them.  His ship was blown
apart by the double impact before he had time to turn away.
    Meanwhile, Dandra had managed to launch her last two
Spitfires into the destroyer's tailpipes.  She had only one heat
seeker left, and was wisely conserving it for any unforseen event
such as another wing of fighters being launched.
    "Moondog.  Whirlwind here.  You mind giving me a hand?  I've
only got one present left, and I'm in such a giving mood."  Her
jaw dropped when the voice that replied to her request wasn't
Foegarth's.  It wasn't the just the fact that it wasn't the voice
she'd expected, but the fact that it was the voice that she had
never thought she'd hear out there.  What the hell was HE doing
out in combat?  He was a bloody science officer and Tech
Specialist, not a warrior!  She felt her dead ancestors cringe in
their graves at the thought of a soft scientist doing a warrior's
work.
    "What the hell are you doing out here, boy?" she voiced her
previous thought.  Not sir, not Darcie, not Presto, not even
asshole, Darcie thought wryly.  Boy.  She called me boy.  She had
absolutely no respect for him, he now realized.  Boy indeed.  He
risks his hide to come out and give her a hand, and all she does
is call him a boy?  Boy indeed!  He'd show her who was the 'boy'
around there.
    "I'm doing my job, you thankless bitch.  Now get out of the
way and let somebody with some hardware to back up his ego do the
work.  You keep that fighter off my back."  Darcie was furious
now.  It happened every time she spurned him like that, but it
never made him stop liking her.  He hated himself for that.  Life
would be much easier if he could be like Blips and forget about
her, but each time she shot him down it just made him like her
even more than before.
    "Who the hell do you think you are telling me how to fly?"
Dandra was also furious now.  "You, who have only flown twelve
bloody sorties in your whole soft pitiful life?!"
    "He's your commander Dandra," Foegarth cut in.  "He's
Lieutenant Darcie O'Kahgan, and he is a far braver man to enter
this battle without experience than any warrior I have ever flown
with, yourself included.  Now shut up and do what he says."
    Dandra was silenced immediately.  What Foegarth had just
said to her was the biggest slap in the face she had ever had,
for the Alzar never lied.  There was nothing she could say or do
that would regain her lost honor except obey.
    Darcy flew past the destroyer, spinning through the gunfire
that trained on his small craft, and did a quick flip roll once
he was far enough out.  He might lack the practical experience,
ut he knew the theory inside and out.  He locked his two
Dragonfires onto the rear end of the destroyer.  His ship carried
heavier missiles than the two Starslayers did, and the shields of
the enemy capital ship were already damaged.  It wouldn't take
many more to blow this one out of the void.
    He waited a few more seconds, taking several hits from the
rear turrets of his target.  He let the missiles go, gently
bearing downward before hitting the afterburners.  He might not
be an experienced pilot, but he knew more about the effects of
the engine wakes than any of the pilots ever would.  It came with
the turf.

                              *****

    Rory and Edward took their seats just as the engines came
on-line.  Rory said, "Mako, just what the hell is going on here?"
    Mako pointed to the screen.  "Take a look."
    At seeing the battle, Edward nearly choked on his sausage.
"Mmph awgl gwmph--GULP--Who are they?"
    "I don't know, but I think they may need help."
    Edward hmphed.  "And what if they think WE'RE more of the
enemy and start shooting at us?"
    "We'll have to make sure they make no mistakes about us.
Edward, get to the gunner's station and target missiles on that
second destroyer."
    "Right."  Edward switched seats with Rory, pulled out a cord
from under the console, and plugged it into the cyberjack he'd
had installed at Freedom Station.  The targeting display appeared
on his retinae, and he started tracking onto the ship in
question.
    But before he could fire missiles, it blew up.  And
something else happened, too.

                              *****

    The Dragonfires slammed home into the destroyer, but
surpisingly enough they didn't completely penetrate.  Darcie
began to turn to make another pass when a missile flew by his
cockpit at _very_ close range on a direct path for the tailpipes
he'd just fired on.  Before he could even begin to swear at
Dandra for breaking off her assigned wing, a bright flash of
light blinded him momentarily.  It was unmistakable.  That wasn't
the flash of the other ship exploding.  That was the flash of an
insystem jump.  They had more company.

    "Oh my god." Blips whispered.  "Khoran..."
    Lieutenant Darr's voice was equally quiet and tense.  "I
know, Troy.  I've got it too.  Another bloody ship just jumped
in!  The others must have gotten lost in the Riftspace as they
jumped through.  That's why only two of them came. This one must
of gotten lucky and was able to jump a second time.  You better
warn them, Blips.  And request assistance from the outpost!"
    There was no need to warn the three pilots, though.  They
couldn't have missed the bright flash of light as the third
destroyer jumped insystem right behind them.
    The explosion of the second cruiser was hardly noticed when
Dandra's last missile rammed into the exhaust port.  As the light
faded back to normal intensity, Darcie turned back to make
another run, and only then saw that the cruiser was no more.  As
he flew through the debris to engage the new arrival, a certain
enemy ace slid easily onto his six and began to lock on, and the
two fighters that had managed to launch before their carrier blew
weren't far behind.

    "Aaaah!" Arla Danie gasped as the bright flash showed the
third ship jumping in.  It gave her a headache.  "Well, that
settles it," Rory said.  "SOMEONE has some sort of warpdrive
around here."  Arla glared at him.
    Before Mako could even say anything, Edward had retargeted
the ship's medium-range missile battery on the large ship that
had just jumped in.  He reached for the red toggle switch cover
that protected the launch control from accidental triggering,
flipped it up.  "Ranging...and...MISSILES RUNNING."
    Just under the nose of the ship, a panel flipped open to
reveal a launcher holding six mid-sized missiles in readiness.
Actually, it was the ship's most potent weapon--the laser cannons
and railgun were relatively puny in comparison.  The missile
mount swivelled slightly, then fired, the missiles leaving their
racks one at a time and blasting away from the ship!

                              *****

    "What the--"
    "What is it, Blips?"
    "I'm showing six blips, too small for fightercraft--they're
heading for that third destroyer."
    "What's their point of origin?" Lieutenant Darr asked.
    "Let me see--it's a small spacecraft of some sort, there.
I'd had it pegged an asteroid.  Tracking trajectory...Hmm, it's
heading in toward us, range 100 kilometers and closing."
    "Those smaller blips?"
    "Missiles--I'm reading standard propellants, and--"  There
was a brilliant flash out the viewports.  "--medium-yield plasma
warheads."

    The cruiser rocked as it was hit broadside by the missile
volley.  Its gunners could hardly be blamed, really--they hadn't
been paying much attention to that side of the ship; only to the
side toward the SOULSTAR where the fighters were mixing it up.
The missiles had only been noticed seconds before they were to
strike the ship, and by then it was far too late for them to do
anything about it.
    When the explosion faded, the port side of the
Imperial-class ship was greatly marred, and about half the lights
on that side were out.  The port engine was fading, too.
    "What in the hell--?!" Darcie muttered, going through a
tight split-S to shake one of the fighters from his tail.  "Where
did those missiles come from?"

                              *****

    "Arla, if you can, make yourself useful by activating the
comm station, will you?  Set to hail on all frequencies."
    "All right, all right..."  Arla pushed over to the comm
console.  "No need to be rude about it..."  She hit some keys.
"Okay, disc jockey, you're on."
    "Calling unidentified spacecraft, calling unidentified
spacecraft, this is--"  He hit the mute button.  "Quick,
what's our name?"
    Sharon shrugged.  "I don't know.  The ship didn't have a
name painted on it when we, ahem, commandeered it.  I don't
think it had even been christened yet."
    "Okay.  I'll make something up.  We can always paint it
on later--we do have paint, right?"  He released the button.
"This is the CONSTELLATION, approaching you now.  We're on your
side, so don't attack us, all right?"
    He waited.  "They don't seem to be answering," Edward
muttered.
    "Arla, go get Steele, Jake, and Sir Blake ready to fight.
Edward, get back to the cargo bay and suit up in your SAMAS.
Prepare for EVA."


From CHM173S@vma.smsu.edu (Andrea and Sheryl (Chris Meadows))
Newsgroups: alt.pub.havens-rest
Subject: Re: "Cain" "Constellation"  To the Rescue!
Date: Thu, 29 Apr 93 16:19:39 CDT

[ADMIN] Oops, forgot to title the previous post.  Oh, heck, call it
"Firefight in Space" or something like that.  Heck, doesn't matter
now.  :)

    "...I'VE GOT FRIENDS IN LOW PLACES, WHERE THE WHISKEY DROWNS
AND THE BEER CHASES MY BLUES AWAY..."  Jake sat, leaning back
against the left leg of his Glitter Boy, a mostly-empty beer jug
in hand, singing along (badly) with the music that blasted out of
his Glitter Boy's on-board radio.  More empty 1-liter beer
containers than one could comfortably contemplate were floating
around in little clumps nearby.  "...AND I'LL BE OKAY..."
    Jake wasn't in too bad of a mood at the moment...he was
feeling much better than he had been, in fact, and he felt he
would be for a good long time.  In a moment of relative lucidity,
he had calculated that if he rationed his beer carefully, he
could be drunk all the way to that planet.  It was a prospect
that pleased him greatly--sitting around drunk was better than
sitting around bored.
    Arla floated in, wrinkled her nose at the scent of stale
beer (and stale Jake) in the cramped corner of the cargo bay.
She quickly snapped off the CD player which was patched into the
GB's input jacks.  "Jake," she said with feeling, "you're
disgusting."
    Jake made some sort of an incoherent noise, and upended the
jug again.  Arla pulled it out of his hands.  "How you can stand
to drink this stuff, I don't know..."
    Jake made another incoherent noise.
    "Dammit Jake, get up.  You've got to fly."
    Jake made an incoherent noise that almost sounded like,
"Fly?"
    "Yes--we need you to fight!"
    Jake shook his head, pushed off from the Glitter Boy
woozily.  He floated around behind a few crates that were
magna-sealed in place, hiccoughing all the way.  Arla shook her
head, sighed, and said a few magic words.  The hiccoughs changed
to retching sounds, and Jake shot out from behind the crates
quicker than you could say "Newton's Law," a whole lot of
something gross and disgusting trailing from his mouth.
    Jake shook his head, eyes widening.  He spat, getting the
end of the trail of vomit out of his mouth.  "Yuck!"  He turned
to Arla.  "Dammit, you detoxified me again.  I HATE it when you
do that!"
    "I had to get all the poison out of your system so you could
fight," she said.  "We need you."
    "Darnit...why could you remove the alcohol but not the
hangover..."  Jake held his head as he felt a monster headache
coming on.  "Can't you give me something for this?"
    Arla pulled out a bottle of aspirin and shoved it over
toward him.  He snorted.  "Well, for what good it'll do..."  He
extracted a couple of pills and swallowed them dry; he'd wash
them down with some water from his Glitter Boy's onboard tank
later.
    "All right, then, I'll fight."  Jake reached into the Glitter
Boy's interior through the open chestplate and pulled out his
flight helmet, which he pulled on, then grabbed a handle on the
Glitter Boy and pulled himself on into it.  His feet went down
into the Glitter Boy's legs, his arms into the sleeves. With a
whirring sound, the chestplate of the armor slowly lowered itself
closed as Jake stuck his head up into the GB's head. "Systems
check...ooooh, my head.  Weapons on-line..."  The neural linkup
inside the Glitter Boy's head connected to the helmet link.
"Neural interface established.  All systems are go."
    "You know, you're going to have to clean up this mess..."
Arla pointed out, pointing to the floating beer jugs and vomit.
    "Relax, I've got it covered..." Jake said.  "But you'd better
get behind a vacuum-sealed door in thirty seconds, 'cause if you
aren't you'll go with it."
    "You're not going to--"  The GB's arm moved over toward the
bay door switch, and Arla said, "Omigod, you are."  She pushed
for the airlock to the passenger section.
    Jake grinned, then winced as his headache struck back again.
"Sonuva..."
    The desert-colored SAMAS floated into Jake's field of
vision.  "Ready to go?" Edward asked.
    "Ouch, not so loud!  Yeah, I'm ready.  Here, let me grab
your arm--you don't have magnetic-seal footplates."
    "All right..."
    With Edward secure, Jake hit the opening key.  The doors
overhead swung slowly open, and all the air in the cargo bay
rushed out.  With it rushed all the empty beer jugs and the
vomit, which boiled off in the vacuum even as it left the cargo
bay.  A couple of empty crates rushed out, too.  The Rambler II
and all the other equipment, however, had been secured properly.
    "All right, let's get on out there!"  Jake let go of Edward,
and they both fired their thrusters to emerge into the void.
Behind them, the cargo bay doors swung shut on an automatic
time-delay.
    Jake pulled an old cassette out of a tool locker and slid it
into the old Sony Walkman he'd hardwired into the GB's sound
system.  It was the soundtrack to an old pre-Rifts movie called
HEAVY METAL, and there was a song on it that he liked especially,
and often played during battles to calm his nerves.  The name of
the song was "Heavy Metal (Taking a Ride)" and it was performed
by Don Felder.  As the music started playing, a smile came to
Jake's face despite his migraine.  Now he was ready to fight.

    Steele floated slowly, deliberately into the cockpit, and
took a seat at the gunnery station which Edward had previously
vacated.  He plugged the cable into his headjack.  "Systems
online."
    Sir Blake Piercy also showed up, looking a bit unkempt from
three days of spiritual purification, but ready to go.  He wore
his airtight Crusader body armor, which would serve as a
spacesuit for all practical purposes, with a rocket pack attached
to the back and holding his helmet under one arm.  "What's going
on?  Whatever happens, I'm ready to go."
    Sharon nodded.  "We know you are, Sir Blake.  But it may not
be strictly necessary.  Watch."

    Jake and Edward fired their thrusters and headed into battle.
Jake's GB's cannon lowered over his shoulder and locked into
place, and Edward brought his railgun rifle up.  Off they went,
into the fray!
    Jake's Glitter Boy was not the original one he had been
issued when he'd joined the Quebec GB force.  That one had been
left in orbit at Freedom Station (albeit a bit reluctantly). Jake
had fallen in love with one of the new-type Mark IV Glitter Boys,
one that was very similar to the older model he used but mounted
a huge particle beam cannon instead of the railgun.  As this one
had some advantages over the older model, including more
firepower for less recoil, the trade-in had been an easy decision
to make, if a little nostalgically painful to execute.
    Edward's SAMAS had not specifically been meant to work in
space, but it did work, and quite well, too.  He had more
maneuverability than the Glitter Boy, though not as much
firepower.  Together they zoomed in toward the dogfight, ready to
go to work.

                              *****

    "Dandra,  what the hell did you think you were doing?"
Foegarth was mad.  No, he was more than mad, he was completely
pissed. She had left her assigned wing to go for the glory, and
now Darcie was floating in space without saran-wrap for a
spacesuit.  There was no way he'd make it in time to help his
wingman, as he was already engaging the newly arrived cruiser.
He had been surprised when all of a sudden she had erupted in an
explosion on the port side, but it didn't phase him.  So much the
better for him, he smiled.  It was then that he had seen the
Black Drake twisting and turning, trying to shake two fighters
from his tail, one of them the enemy ace.
    "If Darcie dies, and you survive, I'll blow you out of the
sky myself.  NEVER abandon your wingman or wingleader for the
kill, no matter if he's just a 'soft scientist.'"  He was nearly
seeing red as he broke off and puched his afterburners, trying to
race back in time to save his wingman from his ineviteble demise.
But it was too far...
    Darcie looked frantically over his shoulder, trying to spot
the two fighters on his tail.  There was one...and he felt the
other as a blast rocked his ship.  This was where his lack of
combat experience would cost him.  Know all the theory you want,
but it won't do any good when you're trying to shake two good
pilots off your six.  He was too angry at Dandra to even think
about it.  No, he was angry at himself for getting into a
position where her contempt and pride would get him killed, he
thought.  Well, maybe he wasn't too angry to think about it after
all.
    Darcie rolled left, then pulled sharply back, then rolled
the other way and fired his afterburners.  He had watched other
pilots do this many times before, but again it came down to the
fact that he'd only flown twelve combat sorties before--and not
all of them were action packed.
    The maneuver worked for the less experienced of the two
enemies, who went shooting off to port and wouldn't be able to
come around in time to re-engage, but not for the other.  The
skill of that enemy pilot easily matched that of Foegarth, which
was exactly why that pilot had remained in the world of the
living throughout this whole firefight.
    And he might walk away from it too, Darcie thought.  There
was nothing that he could do any longer.  He saw with horror that
Foegarth had been intercepted by the first wing of fighters from
the cruiser, and Dandra was busily engaged with the other pilot
still.  He was alone, and there would be no help from anyone.
    "Blips, Darcie here.  Goodbye my friend.  I'm not coming
home."  He still twisted and turned, trying vainly to shake off
the hand of death as he said his goodbye.  Another blast rocked
his ship, then another.  A red light began to flash.  Shields
were down to 25% and dropping.  One more hit and they'd be gone.
That one more hit came.  His shields completely failed and the
damage warning began to flash.
    Darcie looked over his visual display unit and saw that the
whole left half of the rear was red on the sketch of his ship.
The weapon destroyed warning flashed on the screen.  One of his
missiles had blown from the impact, taking his left photon cannon
with it.  The eject warning began to bleat when his ship was hit
once more.
    Darcie closed his eyes for a moment and prepared to hit the
eject button, even though it would make no difference in the end.
The other pilot would be free to pick him off at his leisure as
Darcie floated helplessly in space, but there was no denying the
basic human nature.  He opened his eyes and prepared to die.

                              *****

    "All right, Edward, we'll work this just like the patrols
back at Freedom Station.  I'll go in with my cannon ready and you
stick around to mop up.  Got it?"
    "Roger."  Edward really didn't mind leaving all the work to
Jake.  Perhaps he should have, but he didn't.  It was just a
function of his Dog Boy personality to work well within teams.
"Hey, Jake, check two o'clock high."
    "I see it."  It was the larger starfighter, being chased by
an enemy ship which refused to get off its tail.  Shot after shot
was going into its defensive shields, which overloaded and
shorted out as one of the wing-mounted weapon pods blew.
    The monocular targeting scope for the Glitter Boy's gun
system slid down out of Jake's flight suit helmet and lit up,
tracking.  "You're not getting this one," he muttered as the
green crosshairs flashed red.  "Fire!"
    There was no sound in space, but inside the GB, shielded
though it was, Jake clearly heard the KA-THAM! of the particle
beam cannon firing.  The thrusters on the back of the suit fired
automatically at the same time as the cannon, to compensate for
the recoil.
    The bright beam lanced out, through space, and penetrated the
enemy spacecraft's own shields, and then went through the core of
the spacecraft itself and out the shields on the other side.  For
half a second, the ship just sort of hung there, its core shot
through with energy, its shields overloading in a fantastic
electrical display, then it exploded at the same time its shields
did.
    "Good shot, Jake!" Edward said.
    "I know.  Hey, I'm going to go check the pilot of that
damaged fighter.  Why don't you see what trouble you can get into
without me?"
    Edward grinned, tongue lolling out in the traditional doggie
fashion.  "Roger!"  He then barked, as he was prone to do when
excited, much to his personal embarassment.

                              *****

    Darcie opened his eyes.  He had closed them by instinct as
the laser blast had come searing above his cockpit.  Was he dead?
No, he couldn't be, he sourly realised as he registered the wet
spot on his leg.  Great. I'm alive, he thought joylessly, but I
pissed my spacesuit.  I'd much rather be dead than try and live
this one down.  His wry thoughts were suddenly shattered as he
recalled his situtation.  The fighers on his tail!  They're still
there!  He quickly scan his rear viewer, and not seeing anything,
turned to look behind him.  Nothing there either.  What the hell
had happened to them?
    He turned his head back to the fore, still trying to figure
out what had happened.  When he did, however, it was not empty
space that he saw before him, nor an enemy fighter.  A massive
metal man-shaped thing was flying through space in front of him.
In fact, he was headed straight for it!  He thrust the stick
forward and down as hard as he could to avoid a collision.
Nothing happened.  "Shit! What the hell..."
    Darcie then noticed the damage indicator on his visual
display.  His ship showed up completly in the red.  He pulled
back on the stick. Still, nothing happened.  Then, just as he
started to panic and feel his bladder lurch once more, the nose
of his ship began to slowly rise.  It seemed as if it still
wouldn't be enough, when all of a sudden the damaged circuits
somehow kicked in and the 'Drake shot up in a tight climbing
roll.  Darcie thought he was going to lose his lunch as well as
his bladder, the move was so sudden.
    "What the hell are you trying to do?  Some way to pay back the
guy who just saved your skin!"  The voice that came over his comm
unit was strange, and was on an open hailing frequency, not the
one they regularily used.  The soundtrack from HEAVY METAL was
blaring in the background of the transmission.  It took the
stunned commander a moment to realise that it was the strange
thing he'd narrowly missed that now addressed him.
    "Uh... Lieutenant Darcie O'Kahgan of the SOULSTAR here.
Um...request..." He gave up, too numb to think of the proper
thing to say.  "Who ARE you?" was what he resorted to in the end.
"And what's that thing you're in?"  Tactful as ever Darse, he
thought to himself, then added "Oh, and thanks.  You saved my
life."
    "Think nothing of it, Lieutenant.  Just doin' my job.  Are
you okay?"
    Darcie looked down at the leg of his spacesuit.  "Uh,
mostly."
    "I'm from that ship over there. We picked up your battle,
and thought that you might need a hand.  Name's Jake Preston."
    "Glad to meet you Jake.  And glad to have you on our side.
How many of you are there?  And it was your ship that fired those
missiles I take it.  I'm too damaged to rejoin the fray, but I'll
make sure that my companions don't do you wrong.  Can you switch
to frequency Alpha Foxtrot 134.124.42.246 mark 3000?"  Darcie
waited until Jake replied back over Darcie's regular frequency,
the one that the others were on.
    "Moondog, Whirlwind, this is Presto, do you copy?"
    "Darcie!"  Blips cut in.  "You made it!  What happened?"  He
couldn't nor did he try to keep the excitement from his voice as
he heard his friends voice over his comm set.  After the last
message Darcie sent, Blips had been too stunned to do anything
but gape at the viewscreen.
    "Glad to see you're still with us commander," Foegarth
added.
    "We've got friends over for tea, boys and girls.  Be on your
best behavior now, and keep them covered.  Blips, can you patch
me through to their ship?"
    "I'll give it a try, Darse. Hold on a sec."  He pushed a few
bottons and prayed.  Their Long Range Comm was damaged and still
offline.  He might not be able to hook up with a foreign host...
"There, I think that's got it!  Captain Daniels of the SOULSTAR
to unidentified vessel.  Please respond."
    "It's about time," Mako's voice came clearly over their comm
units. "This is the CONSTELLATION.  We've been trying to hail
you."
    "Our LRC is damaged and offline, CONSTELLATION.  I didn't
pick you up.  Now what can we do you for?"
    "I'll handle this, Blips."  Darcie cut in.  All he needed
now was for the guy on the other end to be insulted by one of
Blips' wise cracks...  "This is Lieutenant Darcie O'Kahgan,
commander of the SOULSTAR.  Your boy just saved my hide, and I
can only guess at what would have happened without your timely
missile strike.  I will be launching one more fighter soon to
assist your team." Darcie paused for a second, the seed of an
idea coming to bloom.
    "Say, we don't know who these guys in the Imperial-class
destroyers are, and I for one would like to find out.  It wasn't
an option before, but it just dawned on me.  Will your pilots be
able to board that last cruiser?  Our fighters will not be able
to land until the docking bay is secure, but from the looks of
the thing Jake's in, you guys could. Are you up for trying,
CONSTELLATION?"
    "Roger that, SOULSTAR," Mako said.  "In fact, I think
they'll enjoy it."  He turned to Steele, who had been preparing
to begin firing on any enemy fighters that still remained.
"Steele, you and Sir Blake get out there and join up with Jake
and Edward.  Arla, you take the gunner's station."
    "First communications, then gunnery...SOME PEOPLE have to do
ALL the work around here..." the Shifter muttered.
    "All right!" Sir Blake said, in a voice rather similar to
Dr. Julian Bashir's (from DEEP SPACE NINE).  "Some action at
last!"  He pulled on his helmet and did a backflip in his
excitement (nearly kicking Arla in the head.  She swore and
ducked).  Steele, a bit more controlled, simply floated from the
bridge to don his armor and jet pack.

                              *****

    John Talon looked up from his desk and frowned.  His brown
hair was shot through with silver at the temples, and looked as
if it hadn't been brushed in days.  It hadn't.  It had been a
very hectic past three days, and he was glad that he was getting
a bit of a rest now.  Soon, he'd be needed again, he knew, as the
battle raged on.  There had been a brief respite when the first
destroyer had been blown up, and his aides were handling the few
casualties just fine.  The doctor would have his momentary
relapse cut short soon, as the SOULSTAR was hit quite suddenly.
    "Where do you think you're going, young man?"  His brown eyes
were of the type that all good doctors have.  You couldn't lie to
them.
    The young man in question stopped in midstide like a mouse
who feels the eyes of the cat on his back.  However, he didn't
bolt as the mouse was wont to do, but turned to face the ship
doctor.  "Ummm... nowhere, really," the Japanese man said with
feigned innocence.  "Just out for a walk?"
    Dr. Talon didn't buy it.  "Get back in your bed, Hiroshi.
You aren't fit for active duty yet.  Your eyes still won't be
able to focus properly for another six hours, and I'm sure I
don't need to remind you about the broken ribs you have."
    Hiroshi winced, as if just the mention of his injury caused
it to flare up in pain.  "Must you mention broken and ribs in the
same sentence, Talon?"  The doctor let out a rich laugh as he
shook his head.  He frowned again when he saw that his ward had't
gone back to his bedrest.
    "Dr. Talon, didn't you hear?  There is a third warship!  And
commander O'Kahgan is out there flying in my stead!  No," he
shook his head, "of course you didn't hear it."  That was one of
the priviledges of his telepathic abilities, which allowed him to
listen in on the surface thoughts of the crew.  But there was
still no excuse for him being in sickbay while the commander
risked his life filling in for him, and he told the doctor so.
Talon shook his head and began to wave the disappointed pilot
back over to the bed when the intercom cut in.
    "Dr. Talon, Dr. Talon report to surgery please."
    Talon laughed as he answered.  "What is it Blips?"
    "Sorry to bother you Doc, but I need to borrow your ward for
a few minutes. I need him to fly that 'Drake."
    "Nothing doing, Blips.  He isn't ready to fly."
    "'S'ok, Talon.  Neither is the 'Drake.  Seriously, though, I
need him.  Another ship has joined up with us, and her fighters--
if you can call them that--are helping us out.  They are
preparing to board the last cruiser, and need support.  Darcie's
out for the rest of the battle, and is limping back home now.  I
need more support out there for them, and I need it now.  I need
Hiroshi."  The pilot in question stood up straight, a proud and
ready look on his face.
    "But--"
    "Look John, you know as well as I do that Lianna won't be
able to do it.  I need somebody who has experience with a hostile
landing.  As soon as they secure the launch bay, our boys will
land, but Moondog and Whirlwind are still engaged with fighters.
Hiroshi has done this before.  Besides he's the only one
crazy--er, brave--enough to do it.  He's got to try and go in
with the other Earthers and secure the ship while Dandra and
'garth keep the fighters occupied."
    Dr. Talon shook his head, but he knew that he wouldn't win
this argument.  "All right, Blips, you got him.  I'll shoot him
up with some Cortisan Namide.  It should help his vision a bit,
but he'll have one hell of a headache later."  It was quite
obvious that Hiroshi didn't care what the consequences were
afterwards, for he wore a large stupid grin of excitement.  "When
does he launch, Troy," the doctor sighed.
    "In forty-five seconds."
    "Shit..."  John quickly pulled a shot primer from a cabinet
and loaded it with Cortisan Namide, then ran over to shoot it
into the earthman's arm before he left the sickbay to suit up.