Week 4 Summary (July 1-7, 2002)

Last Week | Next Week

0 1 2 3 [4] 5 6 7 8 9 10
11 12 13 14 15 16

"One's on my tail," Durst announced evenly. Gunther checked his scopes and saw that he'd picked up the other one. Neither was close enough to attempt a shot, but the Ryu behind Dee Dee looked to be angling to cut her loop off mid-flight, intercepting her before she could complete it. Switching to a longer-range view, he saw that the third Ryu was breaking away from the furball -- towards the Fierce.

"Dee," Gunther called out. "The bogey on your tail is trying move into lead pursuit on your topside. Double back on your arc, then oblique turn to your port. Keep him having to change facing and drop his velocity." Gunther then armed drones A and B, drawing his finger over the virtual interface to the image of the Ryu in pursuit of Durst's Lancer. "Drone A attack pursuit," he called out to the computer. "Drone B evasive pursuit." The Drones rocketed off toward their intended target, each taking different trajectories.

"I'll try!" Durst half-shouted in reply, then grunting as the maneuver's hard gees pressed on her body.

"Help is on the way, Dee," Gunther assured her. "Watch your gees, and don't let him get your tail or topside." He then looked on his console at the Ryu bearing down on him, tagging the image with his targeting sensors. "Hold on, Lieutenant, we're going into a bat-turn." Cutting his afterburners, Gunther executed a full 180-degree turn, spinning his Lancer to face the incoming Ryu, which was moving into range.

"A bat turn?" McGregor asked herself as the ship spun around her. "What the hell is a bat turn?" Louder, she said, "Gunther? I've got the EW equipment down here ready to roll. I'm not particularly keen on the one heading towards the Fierce being able to talk back to his buddies. Give the word." She punched up some initial settings for the electronic countermeasures.

Gunther's mind clicked with McGregor's point immediately. "Do it! It also couldn't hurt in cutting off this pair from coordinating their maneuvers. Why hadn't I thought of that earlier? Gunther thought to himself before focusing back on the approaching exo.

"Roger. Countermeasures coming online... now." McGregor activated the Bigeye's ECM system, and the lights in her cockpit dimmed as the jammers powered up and shut down enemy communications.

"Wait for it," Gunther whispered to himself as he watched the Ryu enter missile range. "Wait for it," he now spoke aloud. As the Ryu raised its massdriver, its target lock on his Lancer registering on the sensor console, Gunther re-ignited the afterburners, shouting into his headset, "Missiles 1 and 2, target lock! Fire!"

The two wing-mounted missiles blasted off towards their target with astonishing speed, smoke wisps trailing behind them as they homed in on the exo. The Ryu's head-mounted anti-missile system spat a stream laser fire at the first missile, detonating it harmlessly. The second, however, sped through the barrage and struck the Ryu hard in the hip.

"Got him!" Gunther exclaimed, seeing the flash of the explosion. An instant later, he and the damaged exo hurtled past one another. The pilot swore when he saw the hot blaze of a plasma lance. The super-heated flame, fueled directly by the Ryu's fusion reactor, cut off a host of whips, veins and antennas before biting deeply into the side of the Bigeye pod. McGregor was jarred viciously by the impact, her neck snapping painfully as sparks, flames and smoke erupted from several of the consoles surrounding her.

Maintaining control of the fighter with a grimace, Gunther looked quickly back over his shoulder at the exo. One of its legs had been blown off, and it looked to be spinning out of control. "McGregor, you okay down there?" he asked. There was no reply.

Some distance away, Dee Dee gritted her teeth as she finished her emergency turn. The Ryu had not only managed to stay with her, but it had cut inside and was about to make an attack pass at short range. "These things are too fast!" she cried out as tracers from her attacker's rapid-fire massdriver rifle nipped at her Lancer. Several slugs then ripped into the interceptor, punching into its armored hull, tearing off its fins and part of the starboard wing.

"I'm hit!" Dee Dee shouted, fighting to keep control of the wounded bird. Settling down, she added, "but I'm alright, I'm--"

Durst's transmission was suddenly cut short, lost in a wave of static as the closing cruiser flooded the area with electronic noise, overwhelming the Lancers' sensors and communications systems.

"Dee!" Gunther shouted in his comm set despite knowing that she likely couldn't hear him. "Damn it, hold on Dee. I'm on my way." With that Gunther rocketed off toward Dee Dee's position, pushing the wounded Lancer at full thrust. "Lieutenant, how are holding up down there? Lieutenant, answer me! Damn, I hope you're just unconscious," Gunther exclaimed aloud.

As he piloted Susan toward Swallow Two's last known position, Gunther began assessing the damage through the console interface. The interface displayed a ship schematic indicating damage location and systems. Looking at his comm system status, he saw that it was being jammed, and then it dawned on him. He hadn't yet warned the Fierce of the third Ryu inbound on their position. In a panic, he tried to raise McGregor again. "Lieutenant, what is your status? Damn it Lieutenant, I need you! The Fierce needs you! If you're alive, wake up!"

Down in the Bigeye pod, the fire suppression system had just finished putting out several small fires. Sputtering fire retardant, McGregor finally regained her senses. The alarms ringing in the ATMP helped in that regard. "Quit yelling, Gunther," she managed, attempting to keep calm. "I hear you. I've got a situation down here..." She swatted at the last of the sparking consoles with a cloth and checked the status of the battle. "Hold that. I see we've all got situations. Just a sec." She punched up a counter-jam sequence for her EW kit, hoping it would be good enough with all the damage taken by the pod's antennas. "I'm trying to break through the Venusians' wall. It may take a few moments. Or I may get lucky." While the ECCM sequence began breaking down the enemy jamming, McGregor brought the Bigeye computer back online, loaded up a signals processing package, and started feeding it the Venusian static. "I could use a little help here, Beast," she said to the machine.

Gunther sighed a bit of relief. "Glad you're still with me, Athena, but we've lost contact with Dee."

The Bigeye's ECCM package flashed a red light at McGregor -- no good. The Imperator's jammers still blanketed the area. McGregor ran the sequencer again, swearing under her breath as the signals software finally came online. Augmenting the ECCM package with the powerful built-to-JAFI-spec software, she worked furiously to defeat the enemy's countermeasures.

Above, in the Lancer's cockpit, Gunther scoured the area where he'd last seen Dee Dee for any sign of his wingman or the other Ryu. With all his optics set to max sensitivity in scan mode, he wasn't blind, but he still knew his chances of spotting either relatively small high-speed vehicle were slim without the use of the rest of his sensor suite.

Only the sound of static could be heard for long seconds as the Lancer cruised through space, pitching and yawing this way and that, searching for any sign of friend or foe. Suddenly, Gunther's cockpit leapt to life, comm gear and sensor scopes bursting with activity. He could immediately see the stricken Ryu he'd left behind, the last drone, and the approaching cruiser... but there was no sign of Swallow Two or the other enemy exo. He frowned as a debris field appeared, but had his attention wrenched away when Flight Control tried to raise them. "Swallow Flight, repeat, this is Fierce Control, what's your situation? Swallow Flight, do you copy?"

Gunther called back, returning status. "Swallow One to Flight Control, copy. Forced into defensive engagement. Swallow One has sustained moderate damage. One Venusian exo confirmed disabled. Second exo presumed destroyed. Swallow Two is unaccounted for. Countering ECM attack from enemy cruiser. Fierce, be advised, there is a third Ryu en route to your position. Weapon configuration on the exo en route is unknown, but these exos are not standard specification, over."

"Swallow Flight, good to have you back," the flight controller responded. "Thanks for the heads up on the incoming exo. Please confirm Swallow Two's status, and stand by."

Roger that Flight Control," Gunther responded, cutting his afterburners, letting Susan drift toward the debris field. "Executing SAR for Swallow Two. Standing by for further instructions." Gunther's adrenaline rush had now begun to subside. He called down to McGregor, via a private channel. "Lieutenant, nice work on getting our systems back online. How are you holding up?"

"Oh, let's see... I've strained my neck, I'm breathing burned wire insulation and fire suppressant, and I seem to have one or more cuts somewhere on my torso that don't appear to be life-threatening. Don't bother me at the moment, please. I'm busy."

"Sorry Lieutenant," Gunther apologized, feeling a little annoyed at her tone. He was genuinely concerned. "Just checking."

"Yeah, I know. Sorry I'm a little crabby at the moment."

Gunther's slight annoyance lifted, now sensing her frustration. "Well, it isn't every day that you get sideswiped by a plasma lance either," he jested trying to lighten the air. "All things considered, we're lucky to be in as good a shape as we are. I'd never taken on a Ryu in a one-on-one dogfight before. Personally, I would have placed our chances at 80-20 against."

As Swallow One approached the debris field, McGregor swept the area with the Bigeye's passive sensors. With her telescopes zoomed in, the JAFI officer saw several pieces of wreckage that looked like they could only have come from a Lancer.

"What are you seeing Lieutenant?" Gunther inquired, unable to make much out from his cockpit windows.

"Looks like some Lancer wreckage over there," she said, highlighting the region on Gunther's HUD, even though he wouldn't be able to see it. "I'm not sure what it is, though. Doesn't look like vanes. Maybe a chunk of fuselage. I'm marking the location and firing it off to the Fierce. I'll start scanning for her emergency transponder if you want, though I'm not sure I can maintain interference for the Venusians."

"...ackle Flight has been vectored to intercept," flight control announced a few seconds later, breaking through a wall of static. "Swallow One, come on home. We'll have proper SAR on the scene as soon as we can."

Before Gunther could protest, McGregor's voice broke in, edged with concern. "Lieutenant..."

"I see it!" the pilot returned, the hairs on the back of his neck standing up.

Behind what looked like the largest piece of Dee Dee's ATMP, the second Ryu suddenly came to life, spinning in place and orienting itself towards the incoming Lancer. The sleek machine was close enough for Gunther to see without his optics, and he had just locked it up when a flash warned him of a missile launch. Immediately, Gunther called out, "Shit!" as he swung the Lancer on a downward vector, bringing the AMS online and kicking in the afterburners in an attempt evading the incoming missile.

The Active Counter-Measure System on the Lancer's rear boom furiously launched charges into the missile's path as interceptor rocketed into a sharp dive, but the homing warhead raced on, undeterred.

Watching the closing missile on one of his rear-looking scopes, Gunther twisted and turned the Lancer through a painfully long series of high-gee, gut-wrenching maneuvers. One final jink made the guided weapon overshoot its target, but before the JAF pilot could celebrate, he watched it turn sharply and come straight back at him.

"Shit!" Gunther exclaimed again. "It's a seeker!"

The counter-measures fired again briefly before a red 'FAIL' light lit on the ACMS console, and Gunther knew it would be up to his piloting skills alone to keep he, McGregor and Susan in one piece.

Without even time to think, Gunther instinctively sent Susan into a high-gee oblique turn downward. He just caught the missile closing from the corner of his eye, he then grimaced, pulling the stick back hard to the right, letting Susan's tail drop as the Lancer also went into a shunted barrel roll, in an attempt to evade again.

Susan's frame groaned under the stress of the maneuver, but the result was that the Ryu's missile missed its mark again, soaring through the space its target had occupied an instant before. A second later the Lancer was rocked by an explosion as the missile's payload detonated, and Gunther fought the controls for several seconds before he was able to level the craft out.

Despite having been jostled all over the place by Gunther's erratic flying, McGregor had managed to maintain the counter-measures and counter-counter-measures that the Bigeye was emitting. For the time being, she was winning the electronic war. Her neck smarted when the Ryu's missile went off nearby, but still she focused on her readouts and the task at hand.

"I'm showing that Ryu moving off towards the cruiser," Gunther said, his eyes on his HUD as he brought the bird around.

McGregor agreed. "I'm seeing that too -- and that cruiser's closing fast, Lieutenant. Looks like we've got about two minutes before it gets into weapons range if we stay here."

"Are you picking up Swallow Two's emergency transponder?" Gunther inquired.

"Yes, I have it, and I've sent it to the Fierce. Which is where we're supposed to be heading now."

Gunther was about to snap back at the Lieutenant, but then remembered the Captain's order. He hesitated, looking at the debris field and then at the fast approaching Venusian ship, his face showing the sorrow and battle of wills that was going on in his soul. Exhaling a deep breath, Gunther resolved what he had to do. "Roger that Lieutenant, you're right. That ship's coming in fast. It's past time we got you and BIGEYE out of here. Prepare for me to open up on the blowers." Without waiting for McGregor to answer, he spun the Lancer around in the direction of the Fierce and kicked in the afterburners. "Sorry Dee," he whispered to himself, just loud enough that McGregor could unintentionally hear him over comm. "I tried. I really did."

"Gunther?" McGregor asked. "We're not equipped to rescue her. The best we can do is find her and let the SAR crew know where she is. And we've done that."

His temper rising up inside, Gunther nearly snapped. Instead, he kept silent, quelling the adrenaline that had welled up inside his bloodstream. He didn't like leaving Durst at the mercy of the Venusians. Right now, he didn't care about Miss McGregor or her precious BIGEYE, none of that mattered in his heart, but he knew his duty. "Yeah," he let escape his tightened jaw. Yeah, I know, he repeated silently in his thoughts, but he didn't like it, not one bit.

"So," Sergeant Magnus McLean started, looking over a number of readouts to make sure his prolonged full-power burn wasn't effecting any of his Pathfinder's systems adversely, "what the hell do you figure is going on out here? What would the bloody Venusians want with one of the sleds? And why risk coming straight into Confederation space to get it?"

"I'm not sure," Vice replied. His arms were crossed in front of him as he was deep in thought, the position mimicked by his exo. "Corporate raiding, extortion, kidnapping. Who knows what Venusians would want with a sled. I'm certain of one thing though. There has to be an angle somewhere. And we should be on the lookout for capital ships. If they wanted the sled destroyed, they would have done it already." Vice paused for a moment and brought up a tactical display. "Something else is up. Hopefully we can get to Dee Dee and Mockingbird before anything nasty happens."

"Aye," McLean returned. "And I've been meaning to ask you about that -- word has it that you and Gunther have some history. What's that all about, then?"

Vice couldn't help but chuckle.

McLean's interested piqued. "Why the chuckle? What is it with you and Gunther?"

"I guess word gets around." Vice replied. "We do have history, Fenris. A long history. Just enough to make postings together interesting. What have you heard?"

"Not much. Just that you used to be mates, but that you had a falling out and have been at it ever since. The juiciest rumor is that a woman was involved."

"Grackle Flight," the flight controller's voice broke in, "we have a change of plans. We have a bogey inbound from Swallow Two's position, reportedly heading for the Fierce. It's a Ryu, weapon configuration unknown. Move to intercept, Grackle Flight. Transmitting intercept vector now..."

"Copy that Fierce," Vice said as he checked over the new vector heading. "Grackle Flight is coming about to new heading. Are we weapons free on the Ryu? What is the status of Swallow Flight?"

"Grackle Flight, weapons are free, repeat, weapons are free. Ryu bogey is presumed to be making an attack run on the Fierce with an undetermined payload -- intercept at all costs. Be advised, Swallow Two is down, Swallow One has been damaged and is coming in."

"Copy that Control. Grackle Flight is weapons free." Vice's weapons display popped up in a small window in his HUD. With a flick of a switch on his control handle, the weapon graphics safety indicators switched off. His thoughts then turned to Swallow Flight. Control's words rang in his ears. Swallow Two is down. Swallow One has been damaged... He hoped that Dee Dee was all right. As for Gunther... although the two didn't like each other, Vice did not want to see him dead.

"Looks like we get to monkey pile on a Ryu, Fenris. You ever tangled with one before?"

McLean shifted around in his frame, working his exos arms and legs as he changed course to follow Valkurie. "I've not," he answered darkly, his thoughts on Dee Dee. "But I plan on tearing this one limb from limb..."

"Same here. No one damages a member of the Redtails squadron and gets away with it on my watch," Vice replied as he checked his reaction mass reserve. "Just don't let any anger cloud your judgment. They will pay for hitting Swallow Flight and threatening the Fierce, but let's not get cocky. The two of us should be able to keep him off balance and outflank him. I don't know much about the Ryu but I have heard a few things. The Ryu is state of the art. It is supposed to have the edge on us in terms of maneuverability but we should have speed and armor on our side. The weapon systems we will have to find out about the hard way, by being shot at."

McLean bought up a window on his HUD that displayed a breakdown of a standard Ryu exo-armor's main offensive and defensive capabilities. "Hrmm," he grumbled. "Looks like most of the weaponry on these things is hand-held, so it could have just about anything."

"Right," Valkurie returned, "so stay sharp."

Fenris nodded. "Roger that," he returned in his brogue.

It seemed Harry was destined not to get any sleep this morning. On his way to the dormitory from the infirmary Duran had summoned him for a brief situational update and Harry had become resigned to not seeing his bunk for some time. Now he was on flight deck 5, checking over his exo-suit and touching up the details on the green dragon that adorned it. A polite cough came from one side. Harry looked around to see Private Ng waiting by his own suit. "You wanted to see me, Sergeant?"

Harry pushed the tools he was working with aside and stood up. "Yes private. As you know I've only been transferred to the Fierce recently, and I thought I should consult with the longer serving squad members to see how things were going. So, I wanted to ask you how you felt about the squad."

Ng hesitated. "I'm not sure what you mean," he offered. "Are we not performing to expected levels?"

Harry shook his head. "Nothing of the sort. I just wanted to know how you felt about the squad, give you a chance to mention anything you feel should be changed or improved, or what's going well. I'm not looking to blame anyone for anything."

"Oh," Ng stated. "It's a good squad. I think Ellis is going to fit in real good. Noah's taken a real shine to her, and even La Rue seems to think she's okay." Realization dawned in Ng's eyes. "Is this about La Rue? About the trouble she's been getting into lately?"

"Well, I'd certainly characterize La Rue's behavior as one of the larger problems facing this squad at the moment," said Harry. "I notice she's been in the brig a couple of times before I came on board. If this keeps up it could have serious consequences for her career, not to mention that it could put her or us at risk in hostile conditions. I'm concerned for her welfare, Ng. Do you have any ideas about why her behavior has changed over the last six months?"

"Has it?" Ng asked. "She's always been kind of a hot head, ever since I've known her. What makes you think she'll be a liability on a mission? I know she has some attitude issues with some of the other crewmembers, but when the chips are down she's always there. I thought she was at the top of the performance charts in just about every exercise we've run through."

"I didn't say she will be a liability, I said she could be. I'm not overlooking her abilities, but I want to make sure La Rue doesn't get into trouble, and if she's reacting inappropriately to the rest of the crew then I don't think it's impossible that she could react in the wrong way in other situations as well. Would you say that's a fair assessment, Ng?"

"Yeah," the demolitions specialist admitted after a few seconds. "She's got a temper, no doubt." Several more seconds of silence passed before Ng spoke again. "You know sir, I can't say why her behavior might be worse lately." Cocking his head slightly, he finished, "I'd ask Corporal Woodbury, if I were you. He might know something."

"Woodbury? I don't recall the name -- is he or she a friend of La Rue's?" asked Harry as he tried to put a face and position to the name.

Ng raised his eyebrows. "He works for Kozlowski, the quartermaster. That's about all I know about him."

"Okay, thanks." Ng seemed unwilling to say more and Harry didn't want to push him. "I'll have a quiet word with him at some point. Now, is there anything else you'd like to discuss? Your own performance has been more than satisfactory by the way, you have nothing to be concerned about there."

"That's good to hear," Ng said, glad to have changed the subject. "I just try to do my part, but I know that we haven't performed like we're capable of in those last couple of VRs. As far as other concerns go, I don't have any, sir. I have a feeling you and Ellis are going to gel real good with the squad. With all due respect to the man, Sergeant Wilcox maybe didn't spend enough time with us... he kind of left the reigns a little loose, if you know what I mean. It's good to see that you're looking at more than just our latest VR results."

Harry waved his hand. "I wouldn't worry too much about that last VR mission, it was pretty much a hose job to get us thinking about worst case scenarios. I know this squad is capable of good work." Fixing the outline of a final scale, Harry stepped back to check his handiwork. "What do you think?" he asked, indicating the snarling dragon that covered his exo-suit.

"Pretty sharp," Ng commented, impressed. "You know, we'd look pretty fearsome if we were all done up like that. Some time when there's a little less going on I'll have to get you to give me a few tips on doing a custom paint job. It's cool."

Harry grinned. "Sounds good. For the moment I recommend you go relax, from what Duran's told me we could be going EVA soon. Don't let me take up any more of your time."

Valkurie and McLean had taken a course that would allow them to stay with the incoming Ryu if their initial pass wasn't successful at destroying or driving off the exo. Lying in wait, the two Jovian pilots were running silent in an effort to remain undetected by their enemy. Drifting along at high speed, they were some distance apart, covering a large swath of space with their passive sensor sweeps. Based on flight control's estimates, the Ryu, if it had continued accelerating, would be along in five to seven minutes.

Valkurie checked his systems one last time. It'd been some time since he'd been in space combat, and the rush of the coming fight was starting to get his blood up.

McLean, who piloted a recon variant of a Pathfinder, was first to detect the exo. "Grackle One, I've got him. Looks like he's early, the rude bastard. He's... he's coming in fast, Vice." Magnus' voice had an edge of concern. "Very fast."

A beep on his comm a short while later indicated that the Retaliator had now picked up the Ryu. "I've got him now, Fenris." The Retaliator's targeting computer started to flash speed and vector information as it tried to establish a firing solution. Vice had to recheck the velocity information. "Zooks. He's really burning, isn't he. He must be using some sort of booster. Let's plot an intercept vector and get our own speed up. I don't think that we are going to get more than one pass at him, Fenris, so let's make it count. How far out do you need to be to scramble his targeting sensors?"

As both exos came to life and started accelerating, McLean answered, "My electronics suite can't jam him -- I can fire up the ECCM to make sure he doesn't jam us, but I can't jam him."

"Control from Grackle One. Contact velocity is higher than originally estimated. Grackle Flight is plotting intercept vector but he is too fast. We will try to slow him down but I recommend using another flight for secondary intercept. Let's get something out there that can crank up the jammers to see if we can't mess up his targeting systems or confuse him as to where the Fierce really is."

"Loud and clear, Grackle Flight," the flight controller responded, seeing a stream of updated target data come across from the two machines. "We are vectoring Finch Flight to secondary intercept. Do what you can to knock the Ryu off of its approach, and take up pursuit if you're unsuccessful."

"Copy that Control." Vice pulled up the Ryu's vector information and plotted a similar flight path. "Grackle Flight is setting up intercept." The Retaliator swung around in wide arc and began to burn along the Ryu's flight path. "Let's splash this bogey and go back for our squad mates."

Grackle Two moved into position as well. "I'm picking something else up on long range scan," McLean noted. "Looks like maybe it's the booster pack this Ryu must have used and discarded."

It wasn't long before the bullet-like Ryu approached the pair of Jovian exos, closing with them at astonishing speed. "He's in range," McLean declared. "I've got him locked with my particle cannon... just say the word."

"Hold till he gets a little closer," Valkurie commanded. "Ryus are pretty slippery, and I want a high percentage shot..." Arming a pair of MMJ-4 missiles, he added to the smart system, "Target Ryu exo-armor... fire on my command."

Both exos cut thrust to steady their aim as the bogey raced towards them. Seeing what he knew was the best firing solution he was going to get, Valkurie barked out, "Fire!" and launched a pair of missiles from his machine's shoulders. McLean's cannon flashed as well, lighting up the front of his exo like a lightning flash.

The trailing missile didn't make it halfway to it's target before erupting into a ball of flame, ignited by the Ryu's blazing, cheek-mounted anti-missile system. McLean's blast missed its mark, and a second later the lead missile went wide of the speeding exo. As the two pilots lined up for subsequent shots, the seeking missile wheeled around to make another pass, but the Ryu was already pulling away.

Raising his railgun, Valkurie waited until the Ryu, which was visible to his naked eye for a few eye blinks, passed directly in front of him before pulling the trigger. The hypervelocity slug hit the Ryu hard as it blew past the two JAF exos, sending sparks and chunks of armor scattering. McLean's second shot missed, and the Sergeant cursed into his comm system as he and Valkurie took aim for what would be their final shots -- the Ryu was already out of sight.

The railgun and particle accelerator both fired again, both missing. Onward rocketed the Ryu, towards the Fierce.

"Looks like light damage only," McLean said, disappointment in his voice as he moved his Pathfinder to full thrust to take up pursuit. "But I didn't see any weapons, hand-held or otherwise."

Valkurie was about to respond when a cold voice came across an open channel -- from the Ryu. "We will not be prevented from reaching our destiny. One will not be denied. One is the future of humanity. One will be our salvation."

"What the hell was that all about? Did the Venusians suddenly rediscover the lost art of the Kamikaze?" Vice said as he worked to push every bit of thrust out of his Retaliator. "Control from Grackle One. Minimal damage to target. No change in heading. Tell Finch flight to be ready for a similar attack. I believe that the Ryu may be trying to ram into the Fierce."

"Affirmative, Grackle Flight. Finch is moving into position. Run down that bogey -- don't let him reach the carrier."

Private Arianna Cyan had managed to get a little sleep after her quarters had warmed up, but it wasn't long before the ship-wide alert to scramble the Redtails had woken her again. She entered the commons and saw that quite a few people had gathered there, looking out the windows at the stars or watching distant shots of the recently launched squadron playing on the many screens surrounding the room.

At one table, four pilots sat glumly together. Olivier, Montreal, Meltwater and Collins all looked as though they didn't have dates for the prom -- and that the prom was happening presently. Montreal's dark, intense eyes caught Cyan's from across the room, and he held them for long seconds as she made her way into the commons.

Unsure of what Montreal's gaze could mean, Arianna stood motionless, like an island in the sea of commotion and activity around her in the Hab 1 commons. Her eyes moved slowly from screen to screen, taking in the ship's tiny navigational thrusts, the nimble maneuvers of the Fierce's fighters, and the passing field of stars outside. She couldn't stifle her thoughts, a barely audible, "damn" escaping from her lips.

"Hey, it's Indigo, right?"

"Cyan," Arianna replied, dryly, turning to face the bubbly voice. "It's Cyan."

"Sorry we didn't get a chance to be formally introduced earlier," Private Epsilon said. From Cyan's perspective it was difficult to tell whether or not Lana's light bouncing was due to the light gravity in the Habitat or the young private's enthusiasm. "My name is Epsilon. Private Lana Epsilon."

"I'll try to remember that," Cyan replied.

"It's nice to meet you too!" the young girl said, nearly bursting. "Listen, Cyan, I have a favor to ask, if I'm not being too forward."

"A favor?" Cyan asked.

"Ummm... you know Corporal Eroll pretty well, right?" Private Epsilon asked, some of her enthusiasm slowing, losing its volume. "Like, personally, not just professionally. Right?"

"What are you getting at, Private?"

"Well, I was curious about something," Lana said. "You two... you're not an item or anything, are you?"

"An item?"

"Seeing each other. Romantically, I mean. You're not seeing each other, are you?" Lana asked.

"No."

"Oh, good! He's kind of cute, isn't he? In his clothes, I mean. He wasn't hideous in his underwear or anything, but I've noticed him in the galley a few times. I've been wanting to meet him, but you were always with him, so I thought that maybe you two were an... item," Lana explained. "So, he's single. Hm."

"Your point?" Cyan asked, slowly becoming more and more annoyed by the glowing young private.

Lana smiled. "Duu-uh! I just wanted to make sure I wasn't stepping on your toes." Taking Cyan by the hand, Epsilon led her back to her table. "Private Cyan, this is Private Brown. Milo, say hello!"

Private Brown looked up from the incredibly complex-looking piece of electronic equipment he had partially disassembled on the table in front of him. "Huh? Uh... hi..." he managed before focusing back on his work.

Epsilon gestured for Cyan to sit down, then sat down herself.

Looking both a little annoyed and a little unsure of herself, Private Cyan took the seat assigned to her by Lana. Eyeing first Private Brown and then the disassembled equipment on the table in front of him, Cyan wasn't sure of what she was in for at this table.

Leaning on the table to rest her chin in her hand, Epsilon asked, "So... what can you tell me about Eroll? His first name is Jan, right?"

"Umm, yes, his name is Jan. And he's a first class pilot," Arianna responded. "He needs to learn to open her up a bit more, but other than that, he's quite skilled."

"I'll be he is," Epsilon commented with a giggle and a wiggle. "First class is right!"

"Hey!" Brown exclaimed at his friend jostling the table. "I'm trying to work!"

"Ignore him," Lana said with a wrinkled nose. "He's absolutely no fun, ever."

Milo ignored the girl as she stuck her tongue out at him and turned back to Cyan. "Anyway, what's with the superhunk making eyes at you?" She surreptitiously pointed over at the table full of pilots. "Montreal is like the hunkiest guy on the ship... do you know him!?"

Cyan wore an expression that might have been shock or horror, it was difficult to tell. "Who?" she asked, loudly.

"Lieutenant Montreal," Lana repeated, again motioning to the table full of pilots across the commons.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Arianna explained. "Lieutenant Montreal explained to a group of crewmen that my burn was well done, because it was, but I don't think there was anything more."

Milo continued working, continued steaming, as he tried to ignore the two women at his table.

"So he defended you," Epsilon said with a grin. "That's so cool. He was definitely making eyes at you when you came in." The young private frowned. "Hey, what are they doing in here, anyway? I thought the whole squadron got scrambled."

Brown didn't look up from his work, but answered, "There are a dozen pilots aboard, but only eight exos and fighters. Depending on who's on patrol or on Ready-5 when the call to scramble comes, some of the pilots remain behind. Usually they're really cranky about it, too."

"Oh," Epsilon returned, sort of understanding. "Anyway," she said, looking back at Cyan, "you should go talk to him, find out what it was he liked about your nutty burn."

"Nutty?" Private Cyan said, sharply. "Nutty? That was a very efficient burn! Do you know what my course saved us in time? Just because no one on the ship takes a warning about a full burn seriously, my maneuvers are considered nutty?"

"Whatever!" Epsilon answered lightly. "I didn't mean anything by it -- I thought it was kind of cool, really. Anyway, you're avoiding the point." Her eyes narrowed dangerously. "You should go talk to Ricardo," she said, inflecting the man's name with a terrible French accent.

Cyan was still bristling, but didn't get a chance to reply before one of the ship's marines joined their table. It was Private James Ng, who was a good friend of Milo Brown's and a recent acquaintance of Lana Epsilon's.

"Hi everyone," Ng said easily, "Mind if I join the crowd?"

Lana beamed. "Jim! Of course not!" She patted the seat next to her and smiled as though she had known the man his whole life as he sat down. "James is in the marine troop," she continued with excitement to Cyan. "He's the explosives expert! Jim, this is Private Arianna Cyan. She's the navigator who about gave us all heart attacks."

Ng held out his hand. "Pleased to meet you, Arianna. Private James Ng."

"Pilot," Arianna corrected. "I'm the helmsman. Navigation is interesting, but it's not much of a challenge."

Although the table was a bit more crowded than Arianna was accustomed to, she did welcome the arrival of Ng, as perhaps it might spur a change in the topic of conversation.

Feeling a little self-conscious, Arianna glanced over her shoulder at Ricardo Montreal. She almost looked away when she saw the pilot looking back at her, but her attention was seized by the female pilot at Montreal's table. Wearing a tight, revealing tank top, the attractive young woman laughed and touched Montreal on the arm to get his attention. He turned back to his tablemates and forced a slight smile.

Next to Cyan, Epsilon smiled gleefully at Ng. "Arianna here knows Jan Eroll. She's going to introduce us!"

Ng raised an eyebrow. "Who's Jan Eroll?" he asked, not sure he wanted to know the answer.

"Just the most adorable naviga... er, helmsman on the ship!"

Ng's heart sank. "Oh. Is he bald? That guy?"

Epsilon nodded furiously. "Yup! And his head's so cute! Some guys look good bald, you know," she said matter-of-factly. Making a sour face, she added, "And some don't."

Suddenly extremely self-conscious of his short haircut, Ng was almost glad when the shipwide alarms went off.

"All hands -- battlestations! All hands, battlestations!"

"Negative, we didn't get him -- he's just too fast!" Lieutenant Gilding's haughty voice came over the comm. "He's on final approach for the Fierce! If we had only -- whoa!"

Finch Flight's leader had her report cut short when another exo, Jovian this time, thundered past her at frightening velocity.

"Scuze me," Valkurie commented, scowling as he pushed his machine for all it was worth. He'd long since left McLean in the dust by overriding the fail-safes on his injectors to dump remass straight into the burner. The Retaliator's reactor was dangerously hot and its thrusters were about fried, but it had caught up to the Ryu and now almost back in weapons range. Vice silently coaxed his machine onward, hoping the shudders and shakes that were jarring its frame weren't sign that it was about to fly apart.

In the distance, the winking lights of the Fierce were already visible.

End Week 4 Summary (July 1-7, 2002)

Last Week | Next Week

0 1 2 3 [4] 5 6 7 8 9 10
11 12 13 14 15 16

ALL SYSTEMS GO is set in Dream Pod 9's Jovian Chronicles universe. Jovian Chronicles, the Jovian Chronicles logo and Silhouette are trademarks of Dream Pod 9, Inc. Exo-armor, Jovian Confederation, CEGA, Silhouette and all other names, logos and specific game terms are (c)1993, 2002; all Jovian Chronicles art and designs are Copyright (c)1994-2002 Dream Pod 9, Inc. No challenge to these copyrights and trademarks is intended.

Except where noted, all original content is copyright 2002 John Guilfoyle, Alistair Gillies, Chris Schaller, Robb Neumann, Dennis Kirkpatrick and Bryan Lee. Page last updated on September 30th, 2002.