From: megazone@wpi.WPI.EDU (MegaZone23)
Subject: OIC (2)
Organization: Worcester Polytechnic Institute
Date: Mon, 7 Sep 1992 21:07:05 GMT

----------------------------------------------------------TWO

     "These people are completely ignorant of space war
tactics."
                         --Commander Breetai Tul

                     FIVE MINUTES EARLIER

     Commander Benjamin D. Hutchins, Wedge Defense Force,
Acting Captain of the SDF-17 (WDF Wayward Son) in the
comatose absence of Captain Brian D. Bikowicz, sat uneasily
in the seat of power on that ship's bridge, planning the
assault on the GENOM complex in what had once been Worcester.
     "Okay.  Let's do it.  Yuri, are the calculations for our
last fold complete?"
     "Affirmative," Yuri replied from the Operations station,
her cool professionalism hiding her worry for Zoner.
"Coordinates are set and locked.  Fold drive is fully charged
and awaiting your order for execution.  We will defold five
kilometers northeast of the GENOM tower at an altitude of two
thousand feet."
     "Perfect.  Stand by.  Tactical, your summary?"
     "All weapons systems fully primed and ready," Kei
replied from her position next to Yuri at the Tactical
station.  "Automated point-defense system is engaged and
standing by on all antiaircraft weapons.  All missile
launchers and autocannons report ready on automatic; railguns
and micro-Reflex cannons ready and reporting positive fire
control from this station.  Main gun at standby status and
also responding to this station's fire control command
protocol.  Full-ship deflector field ready."
     "Excellent.  q, fighter status?"
     "Jolly Roger is like ready and waiting on Armor Two," q
answered.  "Eight-Ball is reporting ready on Armor One, with
Daver in command.  There are like four unassigned pilots,
though."
     "Great.  We'll need all the support we can get.  Fighter
type and pilot?"
     "A Legios, Rich and Gary, but they don't like seem too
happy about the assignment."
     "So they can change it after this battle.  Stick them
with Fritz.  The others?"
     "Two Valkyrie-A's," q reported.  "Tricia and Paul."
     "Ard?"
     "No.  Like Paulheat T. Bonehead."
     "Shit.  Okay, tag them as Eight-Ball Five and Six."
     "You mean Four and Five."
     "No, I don't."  Gryphon got up from his seat.  "ReRob,
take the conn.  I have no intention of leaving my squadron to
fight without me."
     "You can't go out there," ReRob protested.  "The captain
can't enter combat!"
     "I'm not the captain!" Gryphon replied, his expression
darkening.  "How many times to I have to tell you people
this?  Zoner's the captain, and he's not going anywhere.  Now
take the conn, dammit!  I am not leaving the Eight-Ball!"
Yuri tightly gripped the edges of her console at the mention
of Zoner's name.  She was still very concerned about him, he
was still in a deep coma.
     ReRob looked taken aback by this outburst, but said
simply, "Okay, okay," and took the command station.  Gryphon
started for the elevator, already opening the flap of his
uniform jacket.
     "Ben?" Kei called after him.  He turned.
     "Yeah?"
     "Be careful."
     "Watch yourself, Kei--people might think you're going
soft or something," Gryph replied with a grin.  "I'll be
fine."  He winked and vanished into the turbolift.
     "You are going soft," Yuri whispered.
     "Shut up, Yuri," Kei growled.  "So are you."
     Yuri snapped her head around so that Kei wouldn't see
her fight back her tears.
     "Hmm.  Well.  I'm more or less a figurehead, I guess...
I'd probably do more good with the engines.  Oh well...q, are
the fighters ready yet?"
     "Eight-Ball has just finished reorganizing--they're
like almost ready now, just waiting for Gryph to get suited
up.  And like Jolly Roger's been ready for five minutes now."
     "Okay.  Begin countdown for fold operation on my mark...
mark.  Five.  Four.  Three.  Two.  One.  Execute."
     "Executing fold operation," Yuri replied in a wavering
voice, and engaged the SDF-17's mighty fold engines.  The
ship's surface flared white light, the crew experienced the
now-familiar twisting sensation of hyperspace transposition,
and they were off.

Xref: sparky alt.prose:1274 rec.arts.anime:19034