Return to TunTavern's Treasure of Creative Fiction

Return to TunTavern's Main Page

Captain West is walking through the corridors of the Saratoga. He is coming from a meeting with the CAG and all the squadron's commanders. It was a review of their current assignments with a few modifications. West had been able to wrangle a systems specialist to help Hawkes with the problems caused by the Hammerhead upgrade.

As far as West is concerned, the past twenty-four hours had been more hectic than the average. That was a staggering fact considering how hectic the war had gotten recently. Mentally, he shakes his head.

He passes the entrance to the gym and notices that Hawkes is about to start a workout. The Captain enters the gym and calls Hawkes' name.

Hawkes looks up, sees West and asks, "Hey, Nate. What's up?", as he continues to tie a sneaker.

West stops in front of Hawkes and looks around the gym. It is sparsely populated at this time of day. "Shouldn't you be getting some rest, Coop? We're due up for duty in less than four hours," he remarks.

Hawkes focuses on tying his sneakers as he replies, "Yeah, I know. I'm too worked up though, can't sleep."

"Is there something on your mind?"

Hawkes finishes tying his laces and looks at West. He nods and says, "Yeah, this whole thing with Shane..."

West sits down on a bench across from Hawkes. "Her paralysis and her experience as a POW are pretty tough for her to handle."

"I've got no idea what to do for her. After they got here, I tried to give her a hand getting out of the bay and she gave me this look. It seemed as if she was angry with me. What did I do?", he asks as he spreads his hands.

"You didn't do anything, Coop. Shane wants to be what she was before Celestial Body 2063Y. She doesn't want to be looked at as a cripple in need of support. It's tearing her apart that she can't be what she used to."

There is silence for a moment. Then Hawkes sits down and asks, "Have you heard anything from the docs?"

"The last thing I've heard is that her spinal cord is severed in her lower back. They don't know yet whether there is any hope of repairing the damage. It has been seven months since the initial injury. They aren't very hopeful it seems." West watches his friend's face contort as Hawkes ties to assimilate these new facts. His mouth opens and closes a few times before settling on silence as his response. "All we can do is wait and be here for her if she comes looking for our help."

Hawkes nods absently.

West stands and places a hand on Hawke's shoulder. "You know where to find me, Coop," he says softly. Then he continues in a sterner voice, "Before I see you on the flight deck next, make sure you get a few hours sleep."

Hawkes looks up at West, smiles a little bit shakily and replies, "Yes, sir."

At about the same time, Colonel McQueen is sitting down at the Commodore's desk, sipping a mug of coffee. The coffee, unfortunately, is the standard ship-grown variety. Once a day, the CAG and the Commodore meet to discuss the past day's events. This is that time.

"What do you have for me, today?", the Commodore asks from the other side of the desk.

"Which would you like first, sir, the good, the bad or the ugly?"

The Commodore leans back a little, and replies, "Start with the bad."

"No solution has been found to the recurrent problem with the Hammerhead upgrade. Our store of Phalanx missiles is getting dangerously low, thirty-nine percent of optimal, to be exact," McQueen states from memory.

"One of the 127th is working on the Hammerhead problem?"

"Yes, sir. Lieutenant Hawkes is currently working on it in his down time along with a specialist assigned specifically to the task."

"Do you think he has the ability to solve the problem, Ty?"

McQueen nods. "Captain West originally gave him the assignment. And I approve of the choice also. He is making progress with it."

Ross bridges his fingers as he thinks for a moment. "Take him off of active flight duty, and assign him full-time to the problem. Give him no more than five people to help him and access to whatever he needs."

"Yes, sir." The Colonel makes a mental note of the order.

"As for the problem with the stores, I'll see if I can arrange a trade with any of the other carriers."

"Which would you rather hear next? The ugly or the good?"

"Save the best for last."

"We've finished preliminary debriefing of all of the POW's from the Freedom. All of their stories are fairly standard, if horrific," McQueen pauses momentarily before continuing, "with one exception. Wang's story is highly unusual to say the least."

"What's the short of it, Colonel?"

McQueen recalls the facts as he had read them. "Well, the strangest part of it is the beginning. It seems the most immediate memory he has after disconnecting the Homeward Bound's cargo bay is of awakening in a hospital. He seems to think it was an AeroTech facility."

The Commodore places his hands on the top of the desk and sits upright in his chair. The tension in his voice is audible as he asks, "Is he telling the truth?"

The CAG nods as he proceeds, "Our best tests say he is."

Ross blows out a breath through clenched teeth. "Intelligence would leave me to believe AeroTech had fallen apart after the assassination of Wayne and then the fall itself. Is our information faulted?"

"It is a possibility, sir. But at this moment, I'd say there are a lot of possibilities. We don't have enough data to get an accurate take on the situation."

The Commodore takes his hands of the desk and folds them on his lap. "Right. I want to be present for the rest of Wang's debrief."

"I'll have a copy of the schedule sent up to you, as soon as possible."

"Is there any more to the ugly?"

"I'm afraid so, sir," McQueen pauses briefly. "In the course of reviewing the material covering the recent fleet actions, I've found scattered reports about Fleet ships going renegade and, in some cases, defecting. So far, we've lost a handful of small ships, some fighters. One of our destroyers, the Kentucky, was caught trying to go AWOL by a Japanese/Swedish battlegroup. The Kentucky was thought to have been destroyed earlier in a pitched battle in the Deneb sector. Apparently, she had slipped out in the middle of the fight. The Swedish sent a boarding party over, announcing their intentions to re-take the ship. The crew of the Kentucky opened fire on the boarding party, as well as the Japanese ships. The battlegroup returned fire and destroyed the Kentucky in minutes. There were no survivors." The Commodore massages his temples and shakes his head, as if trying to clear away a bad dream. "We knew this was going to happen sooner or later, sir," McQueen says.

"There could not be a worse possible time for this to happen though. Now, in addition to having to worry about external security, we need to concern ourselves with internal security. What contingencies do we have set up?"

"Unfortunately, there is not very much we can do. All patrols have been stepped up to a higher alert level. Both the Military Police and the Interior Intelligence Agency are working overtime to identify any problems before they have the chance to ignite."

Ross sighs heavily and stands. "But even their best efforts can be sidestepped if the traitors are careful enough."

McQueen nods, "Right."

Ross leans his chair back against the wall and folds his arms across his chest. "This is one I'm going to have to give some serious consideration before the beginning of the meeting.

"How about the good news?"

The CAG sits up a little straighter in his chair and a slight grin plays across his face. This is going to be good, Ross thinks to himself. "In the process of going through all the reports, I've found two R&D developments that are promising when viewed separately. When viewed together, the potential is astounding.

"In one report, our scientists were able to determine how the Chigs were able to surprise us so badly two and a half months ago. Not only have they figure out what happened, they managed to devise a way for us to use the same technique to our advantage."

"Wouldn't the Chigs be able to detect a technology that they created?"

"The eggheads have modified the design, which they call a translation system, to the point where they don't think the Chigs will recognize the warning signs. There is, of course, a chance of detection if the technique were to be used, but that goes without saying for even the most dependable methods," McQueen pauses before continuing. "In an unrelated research project, Russian scientists uncovered a way to artificially generate singularities."

A puzzled look crosses the Commodore's face. "Singularities? What are they?", he questions.

"It is rather esoteric. Simply put, singularities are the heart of a black hole. It is a point of matter, with nearly infinite density. The Russians have managed to create and manipulate them by way of some rather complex physics. The necessary machinery is extremely compact." Ross contemplates the possibilities, trying to decide what McQueen is going to suggest. "If we strip down an AB-101 Gunship to engines, flight computer, and ship shell, there will be room for the gear that would be needed to operate the modified Chig translation system, as well as the singularity generator."

In the pause between sentences, Ross interjects, "What exactly are you proposing, Ty?"

"What I'm getting at is that we can program the Gunship to translate into the heart of a star. At the precise moment of translation, the singularity generators kick in. They create an unshielded singularity, exposing the star to the most intense gravity field known to man. The ship wouldn't survive for more than a fraction of a second. With the destruction of the generator, the singularity would collapse itself. However, the ensuing chain reaction continues. Moments after the ship has been destroyed, the star's equilibrium would be so upset that the star would, at the least, go nova and possibly even super nova, depending on the composition of the star." The Colonel has expended a large amount of energy to track down the answers to his various science-related questions in the past few days.

There is a moment of heavy silence, as each regards the other. Ross suddenly realizes how Truman must have felt when confronted with the decision to bomb Japan with atomic weapons. "How many can we make?", Ross asks quietly.

"Given the data in the reports, I think we can make a total of eight."

"How long?"

"All the key personal are in-system, along with all the material needed. Two weeks on the outside, sir."

The Commodore lets out a sigh and begins to pace the room. "The implications of what we do here are very far-reaching....What targets would you pick, if the option were yours?"

McQueen fidgets in his seat a bit and then answers, professionally, "I would send two of the Gunships to each target, one backing up the other. Three of them would go to militarily important systems that the Chigs have. The fourth, I would send to the Chig's homeworld." He finishes and stares straight into the bulkhead.

Ross walk around his desk and stands in front of McQueen. The Commodore stares down into his CAG's eyes. McQueen meets his gaze evenly. "You would attack and destroy a non-combatant population?", he questions. Still looking into Ross' eyes, McQueen replies, "Yes, sir, I would. Our current position is such that we need to bring the enemy to his knees quickly and decisively. This will serve that purpose."

Ross raises an eyebrow at McQueen. "Where would you draw the line between us and them?"

Almost coldly, the Colonel answers, "I'd like to call to the Commodore's attention the bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki. Despite their nature, they ended a war that may have continued indefinitely. This action will have the same effect."

The Commodore shakes his head and returns to his seat. "But at what cost, Ty?"

Ross watches McQueen's face contort for a moment. "Commodore, its not my opinion that will ultimately decide the matter. It will be the decision of the joint session. But if it were, I would do it regardless of the cost involved. We stand to lose this war if it drags out over a few more years. Then the question will be academic."

Ross regards his coffee mug, as he thinks. "The idea behind the operation is sound. Six of those Gunships will go to targets of military significance. The destination of the last two will be decided by the session. And this is all under the assumption that Command goes for it."

McQueen gives his commander a skeptical look. "You know that this is probably the best chance we're likely to get." Ross nods, his mind still mulling over the question of the fourth target. "Now, is there anything else?"

"No, sir. That was it."

The Commodore begins making some notes on a pad of legal paper. "You're dismissed then, Colonel." McQueen stands and heads for the door. He stops when Ross asks him a final question. "Does this plan have a working name, yet?"

McQueen turns slightly, and replies, "Yes, it does, sir. 'Reprisal'."

Reprisal, part 5, under construction!

Return to TunTavern's Treasure of Creative Fiction

Return to TunTavern's Main Page

Comments to author:Deuce