| Chapter Nine |
| Plans Coalesce |
| Stealthlon’s War Room 17:03 SET 2195 “Now is the time to plan Maradine’s downfall,” Captain Blackbird announced, gathering the attention of everyone present in the war room of one of the most technologically advanced ships in the ragged mirror UNSF fleet. The war room was expansive; holding many items of comfortable yet rarely used furniture. In the middle, the main table sat, consistently lit up from underneath, holding things from plans to blueprints of ships to day-old flat Root Beer, which belonged to General Brungess, though he wouldn’t admit it. Commodore Cain had found and compiled a rather hefty dossier on Maradine and his daughter, Anarcha. “We need to be able to find a way to get in close to Marauder,” said Lieutenant Commander Serena, the Explorer’s Chief of Security. “Get in close and hit him internally.” “That was my thought,” piped up Captain Joe Ordese, a senior member and integral part of the Stealthlon crew. “It would’ve been helpful if we had the Skylords with us.” “The Skylords?” asked Lieutenant Commander Fleury. “How would a fighter squadron help us?” “The Skylords may be a fighter squadron in your universe,” Ordese pointed out, “but in ours they’re both a fighter squadron and an intelligence unit.” Fleury exchanged knowing glances with Mansel, aware of who the number one fighter squadron in the alternate universe must be; the 177th Stealth Squadron. Now wasn’t the time for that, however. Mansel and the rest present listened carefully as the alternate Blackbird presented his plan, assisted by General Brungess. “We know we can’t send in the two ships to just rain fire down on Earth,” Blackbird began, pointing to Earth on a floating hologram of the Milky Way Galaxy that sat over the table. “Though we currently aren’t in control of it, it’s still our Earth, and we don’t want to tear it up too much.” “So that option we ruled out,” the General continued. “So going big won’t work. Going small might, however. We should send in a small shuttle of people down there to seize Maradine’s hiding spot.” “Do we know exactly where Maradine’s hiding spot is?” Mansel asked, putting his forearms on the table and looking at Blackbird. “Fortunately, yes, we do, Mansel,” he replied with a tight smile. “He’s using the old United Nations building as his main headquarters and UNSF HQ in California as his secondary spot.” “He’s doing that to mess with our heads,” Commander Hayes said from her position beside Commander Vaughn. “He’s gotta be.” “Agreed,” said Brungess. “The small insurgency team will be equipped with enough explosives to effectively cripple the building. That’s the plan, simple as that.” “My goodness,” exclaimed the mirror Lieutenant Commander Stephen DaNastie, “we’re not trying to take the whole planet.” “True,” said Blackbird, “but we do have to do enough to make sure that Maradine won’t be able to take Australia and the few parts of South America. That’s what it’s going to take to get Mansel and his crew home.” He grinned at the starship commander sitting across the table from him. “We have our hands full wit just one Mansel in the galaxy. We don’t need two.” “And no galaxy should be without one,” said Mansel. “That’s why I need to get back to mine.” “So where do we go from there?” Commander Vaughn asked, sitting between Mansel and Lisa Hayes. “Sit back and wait for the heavens to unfold?” “One thing at a time, Commander,” chided Commodore Cain. “We’ll worry about that when we get to it.” *** Captain Bryan Lamb, commander of the Storm-A in both universes, had made a startling discovery. He had found that a number of UNSF officers, some of major importance, had all requested to go on leave at the same time. Currently, he sat in his command chair with a list of the names on an infopad. “Captain Benson, Commodore Cain, Captain Ordese, Commander Hayes… this list goes on,” he mumbled to himself as he read each name and the ship they were assigned to. “All of varying positions. Benson, Cain, and Ordese all have command capabilities. Hayes is an expert navigator. Stephen DaNastie services ships…it’s almost like a skeleton crew.” “Could be,” Stogall, the Science officer from Neptune commented. He turned his dark blue eyes on his commander. “Is it possible that they stole the Stealthlon and intend to join Maradine or defect to the Imperial Armada?” Captain Lamb shrugged. Some things were as puzzling to him after four years of being a starship captain as they were the first day. “Who knows?” he asked. “Let’s hope not.” |
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