From: megazone@wpi.WPI.EDU (MegaZone23)
Newsgroups: wpi.students.story,alt.prose,rec.arts.anime
Subject: OIC (16)
Date: 12 Sep 1992 12:11:04 GMT
Organization: Worcester Polytechnic Institute
NNTP-Posting-Host: wpi.wpi.edu

------------------------------------------------------SIXTEEN

     "It's been a long time coming and it's good to be back."
                         --The Alarm

     "From all understandings, you have done well," Wolfgang
observed from the head of the conference table.  "Both your
battles have ended in victory, and only a few of your
personnel have died.  Why then are both of you having serious
doubts about your command abilities?"
     "Both battles have ended in victory, sure," Zoner said,
"but both times we've gotten the shit beaten out of us.  I've
watched the tapes of the battle on Earth, and while I'll
admit the victory was impressive considering the odds, look
at the damage the ship took!  Both A.R.M.D. platforms
destroyed, almost a quarter of the ship blown off, main gun
disabled, system after system overloaded and burned out,
Reflex furnace barely functional."
     "I fucked up, okay?" Gryphon said with a trace of
defensive anger.  "I had the responsibility of command and I
went out to play pilot instead.  What happened on Earth was
my fault, and I'll accept full responsibility for it."
     "Nothing was anyone's fault," Wolfgang interrupted.
"For your first battle, you were inexperienced and unready
for combat--and you performed admirably.  For your second you
were understaffed, without your most capable leader, and
highly demoralized.  Both times you have come out on top.
This shows to me that you are indeed the force I've been
trying so hard to create.  You are worthy of your positions
and I will not see you giving them up.  Consider this an
official reprimand for having such a dim view of what I
consider to be great achievements."
     There was a moment of silence as the two young officers
pondered.
     "As to the future," Wolfgang continued, "repairs are
almost complete to your ship, and I have addressed several of
your other problems as well."
     "Such as?" Gryphon asked curiously.
     "The Wedge Defense Force is highly skilled and
motivated, but undermanned," Lord Fahrvergnugen observed.
"There are not enough of you to provide a truly flexible
force.  You can field only two squadrons of Veritech
fighters, and no Destroids, nor other types of starfighters.
You have no commando troops to speak of, nor conventional
infantry, nor space marines, and so on.  I had decided not
long ago that I needed to find another force to attach to the
WDF, one that matches it in motivation, skill, aggression,
one that could be easily trained to use WDF equipment, one
that would be loyal and brave.  It was truly a dilemma, but
with the help of a good friend, I found the solution."
     "Well, don't keep us in suspense..." Zoner trailed off.
     "I don't plan on it.  Gentlemen, may I present to you my
good friend, and possibly the savior of the Wedge Defense
Force, Princess Asrial of Salusia."
     Gryphon and Zoner looked at each other with looks of,
well, not amazement--more like "Why did I somehow expect
something like this?"  After the weirdness they had absorbed
in the last several months, this seemed just par for the
course.
     "You don't think he means...." Zoner began.
     "It wouldn't surprise me," Gryphon replied.  "At all."
     "Those are Uncle Martin's antennas..."
     Gryphon's reply was a suppressed chuckle and, "No
they're not. They look particularly cat-like to me."
     While this exchange was taking place Princess Asrial
entered the room and observed the pair amusedly.
     "Gentlemen," said the Princess regally.  "Lord
Fahrvergnugen has related to me your mission and your plans,
and I must agree that your mission is a noble one.  I'm more
than happy to offer my support.  For that reason, I have
attached one of my own crack units to your forces--the 101st
FTL Cavalry.  They have already completed training in all WDF
equipment and received their postings; it only remains for
you, Captain Bikowicz, to formally accept their attachment."
     MegaZone stood and offered his best approximation of a
courtly bow.  "Princess, I would be honored.  But just one
thing.  Please don't call me Captain Bikowicz.  Call me
Zoner, or MegaZone, tack on the Captain if you want."
     "Very well, Zoner," Asrial replied, smiling.  "This,"
she said, indicating the tallish, red-haired Salusian to her
side, "is Major Perry Aldzinjal, commander of the 101st
Cavalry."
     "Captain," said the Major with a tip of his uniform cap.
He wore the distinctive orange and black uniform of a
Salusian space marine.  "Pleasure to be working with you."
     "If that's all, gentlemen, I really should be getting
back to Earth--I've been here far too long as it is."
     "By all means," said Zoner.  "It's a pleasure to have
met you, your highness."
     "I agree," Gryphon seconded.  "And an honor."
     "Flatterers," said Asrial, and with a wink, she left the
room.
     "My men are ready to move into their assigned quarters,
Captain, if you'll just give the word," said Major Aldzinjal.
     "Like I told the Princess, call me Zoner, Major, we're
pretty informal around here.  Move your guys in whenever--I
don't think we're going anywhere for a while."
     "All right--you guys call me Perry, if we're running an
informal shop, and I'll catch you later.  I have to supervise
the move."
     "You seemed to hit it off fairly well," Lord
Fahrvergnugen observed as Perry left the room.  "I am
pleased; I think this merger will work nicely."
     "What of the repairs to the ship?" Gryphon asked.
     "Ah, the ship.  All the damaged systems have been
repaired or replaced, and major structural components
replaced or reinforced.  The main gun has been repaired--in
fact, you're almost ready to take her into space again.  All
that remains is the replacement of the A.R.M.D. platforms,
and that won't take long."
     "We're getting new platforms, then?" asked Zoner.
     "Not exactly," Wolfgang replied.  "I had intended to
build a fleet for your forces, as they grew--I had two
smaller ships ready to go, in fact.  However, since your
vessel is in need of side platforms for Veritech and Destroid
operations, and I have no A.R.M.D. platforms completed, I
opted for a new modular system the technicians came up with."
     "Why do I think I know what's coming?" Zoner mumbled.
     He touched a key on the conference table and a screen
glowed behind him with a schematic.  Where the mounting
hardpoints for A.R.M.D.-1 and -2 had been there were large
extended armatures, locking cogs, it appeared.  An image of a
small ship appeared next to the SDF-17; in its stern was an
aperture the same size and shape as the cog.  In choppy tech-
animation, the smaller ship turned around and backed onto the
cog, locking in place.
     With a groan, Zoner realized what it was; the aircraft
carrier Prometheus.  The schematic rotated, and sure enough,
Daedalus slipped into place on the other side.
     "This way, the two smaller vessels can be detached at
will to become fully capable starships--for support, or
small-scale missions where the Wayward Son's size and power
would be more of a liability."
     Zoner turned to Gryphon as Wolfgang went on about the
technical details of the linkage system and mouthed silently,
"Daedalus?  Prometheus?  Why me?"

     And so, several days later, with much pomp and
circumstance, the SDF-17, WDF Wayward Son, once again
unmarred and proud, left the Utopia Planitia Naval Shipyards,
this time bearing a crew eight hundred strong and morale
running higher than ever before.  They didn't know where they
were going, but they knew they'd find out when they got
there--and they knew for a fact that it wouldn't be boring.