Even though these things give you about as much legal coverage as a G-string on a stripper, I am going to include it anyways. Most of the characters in this story are the property of Harmony Gold, and a whole lot of other companies who's names escape me at the moment, and are used without their permission. However, since this is a not for profit undertaking, I dont think its neccecary to worry about it. At any rate, I'm so broke suing would be a waste of time. The few original charecters in here are mine, so please ask before using them in a fic of your own. Comments and Criticisms welcome: E-Mail Starrngr@aol.com. Flames will be promptly filed in file 13 and ignored. Previous parts of this story can be found at: Ranger HQ: HTTP://home.talkcity.com/TheSanitarium/Da_Muck/Libr/wndr/ AND at Sofaspud's Couch HTTP://www.sofaspud.org/ ---------------------------------------------------------------------- Tales of the Wanderer: Book 2: Wandering Ace Chapter 6: Turnabout Rick Hunter fixed his new pilot with a look most often associated with someone who has found their pet cat had left half a mouse on their pillow... again. "Tell me this again, from the top?" "I'm your new training and safety officer, Sir," Micheal replied. "Capt. Micheal 'Muck' Thunders, USAF." "Right." Rick was clearly unconvinced, but motioned for Muck to continue. "Captain Gloval requested a ground attack specialist to train your people in ways to successfully attack Zentraedi ships. They sent me." "So, why were you in the hospital that day?" "I had a small accident when I arrived on board. The doctors just returned me to flight status," Muck replied, smothering a grin. He'd always believed misdirection was better than an outright lie. Plus, it was much easier to keep one's facts straight that way. Rick wasn't very happy about this turn of events, but didn't have a good enough reason to ground his new pilot, given the chronic shortage of able pilots. "That was quite a show you put on in the simulator yesterday. Mind telling me why they all thought you were a civilian?" "I wouldn't know sir. Probably because I was in civvies, sir. Anything else, sir?" Micheal replied in his best new recruit voice. Rick gave him a cold look. "You're records impressive enough, but you're not qualified in carrier operations. You'll be qualifying tomorrow. You'll ride in the backseat with me for five traps. Then we switch seats and you make 5 traps before making 5 solo traps. Once you've qualified, you'll be making two four-hour hops a day, in between your other duties. Any questions?" "No Sir!" "Be in Skull's ready room at 08:00. Dismissed," Rick snapped, and Micheal made an about face and beat feet. Rick sighed to himself and turned back to the dossier in front of him when the hatch to his quarters chimed again. "Enter," he called with a sigh and the hatch slid back open to admit Max Sterling, who was looking back over his shoulder with a look of bemusement. "Hey, skipper? Isn't that the guy that almost got ya in the simulator yesterday?" Max asked, turning his attention back to his CO. Rick sighed and leaned back in his chair. "More like he would have if you hadn't nailed him with that missile spread. Nice shooting, by the way," he admitted. Max rubbed the back of his head in embarrassment. "Aww, I wouldn't have gotten him if he hadn't been fixated on you, boss. So, they've bumped him out of flight school already?" Rick sighed. "Nope, he never was IN flight training. Apparently, he's our new TSO, on loan from the air force." "Why?" Max wondered aloud. "He's a ground attack specialist. Apparently, Gloval asked for one to come up with a way for us to take out enemy ships with the Veritechs." Max replied with a low whistle. "Risky, but if he's as good at attack missions as he was in the simulator, we might just have a chance. Is he checked out yet?" "Except for carrier ops. I'll qual him myself tomorrow." Max stared at Rick for a moment. "Fifteen traps in one day? Remind me not to get on your bad side!" Rick sighed. "It's not that, Max. We're fighting for everyone in Macross City here. If he can't take the stress I need to know as soon as possible." Max shook his head at that. "Why'd they wait so long?" Rick sighed. "They just cleared him for flight duty. Said he had an accident right after he came aboard." Max snapped his fingers. "That's right, he did. He managed to come racing down the hanger deck of Prometheus and piled into a plane tractor." Rick stared open mouthed at Max, who suddenly blushed. "It was the day you flew Minmei to visit her folks. Ben and I had just come back from patrol and..." * * * * * * * * * Micheal 'Muck' Thunders was already suited up, a cup of coffee in his hand, when Rick arrived in the Skull's ready room. Quietly, he remained standing, though he came to attention as the rest of the squadron took seats and the general noise level dropped dramatically as Rick started to address the squadron. "All right people. We're on Bar-cap today from 12:00 to 15:00. Until then, We're the alert-15 squadron (1). If you need anything, take it up with Max. I'll be unavailable for most of the day." Rick then pointed to the Muck. "This is Capt. 'Muck' Thunders, our new TSO. I'll be qualifying him for carrier ops today, which is why I'll be unavailable. Any questions?" With no questions, Rick got ready to step down. "All right. Max has your plane assignments," Rick finished, and turned the podium over to Max. Micheal handed Rick a sheaf of paper as Rick walked up. "Flight plan and plane report, skipper. We're assigned trainer 201 and a 'Kid Driver' call sign." Rick nodded non-committaly as he looked through the documentation. "You filled out this flight plan yourself?" "With Lt. Sterling's help, sir." Rick nodded, then signed the papers. "Ok then, 'Muck'. Let's get you qualified, then..." * * * * * * * * * "Kid Driver 201, Turn final and call the ball." "201. 1-D manual Ball, fuel 7(2)," Muck reported as the Veritech turned towards the Prometheus' flight deck. In the back seat of the two-seat training bird, Rick shifted slightly to relieve the stiffness in his backside as he continued to monitor their approach. He was glad that this was his final trap in the backseat; he was also certain that Muck wasn't looking forward to having to make 5 more solo traps. Still, Muck was sliding towards his fifth trap aboard Prometheus with the same precision as his first when the wave-off call came over the radio. "201, Wave-off, wave-off, wave-off!" the LSO called even as the 'ball' was replaced with a red X of lights. Rick grabbed for the controls, but Muck was already reacting. Kid Driver 201 was very close to the deck; too close, in Rick's opinion, for a normal wave-off. Muck seemed to sense that as well; instead of trying to pull up he increased the throttles to full power. Momentum kept Kid Driver 201 headed for the deck, but the added thrust carried it clear of the arresting gear before touching down; 201 roared down the deck and back out into space. "201 has bolted and is clear of the deck," Muck radioed back to approach control. "Request vector to marshal (3). Oh, and the skipper would probably like to know why the deck went foul so close to a trap." "How'd ya guess?" Rick chortled over the inter-phone. "Cause I wanna know too, Skipper," Muck replied in the same laconic drawl he had used since taking the front seat, unaffected by the wave-off. "Kid Driver 201, Mother. Vector to marshal one five zero by one nine zero, 20 miles. Say fuel," Approach Control called over the radio, breaking into the conversation. "Mother, Kid Driver 201. Fuel 6.5, coming to one five zero by one nine zero. Any word on the deck yet?" "Negative, 201. XO wants you on button one though." "Roger that, 201 is off button nine for button one. 201 out." A very irate Lisa Hayes appeared on the center screen in both cockpits as soon as Muck switched comm channels. She didn't even wait for Muck to call in... all in all a very bad sign in Rick's opinion. "What the deuce did you think you were doing, 201?" Lisa demanded. "You were waved-off. That means pull up and return to marshal for another approach, mister!" "Negative, Ma'am. I was past commit, and if I had tried a normal wave off I probably would have caught a wire and had a mid-air engagement," Muck replied calmly. Sitting in the back seat, Rick didn't know if he should try and step in and defend his new pilot, or hope to stay out of the crossfire; the look on Lisa's face was one that had skewered HIM more than once. "And if the deck was foul because a piece of gear had rolled into the way, you would have wrecked that plane!" Lisa's gaze shifted slightly and Rick suddenly knew what was next. "I expected better out of a pilot you were checking out, Commander." Lisa's tone was that one normally used when talking to a child who should know better, but decided to do something wrong anyway. "He made the right choice, Lisa," Rick sighed, knowing that sooner or later he was going to hear about this, quite extensively. "He shouldn't have been waved off that close to begin with, but he reacted almost as well as I would have." Lisa's cheeks reddened, but Rick didn't know if it was out of shame or anger. "All right, Hunter. But I want to talk to you after your done," she snapped before cutting the circuit. "Mother, Kid Driver 201 off button one for button nine, Out," Muck sighed over the radio... * * * * * * * * * Rick followed Muck out of the cockpit of 201 while the plane crew refueled it. Slapping the older pilot on the shoulder, Rick hid his own stiffness at being in the cockpit and smiled. "Ready for your solo traps, Muck?" Muck reached for the ceiling in a long stretch before answering. "Of course, skipper. Can't let you RDF types think the USAF is a bunch of wimps, after all," he replied with a smile. "We'll try not to hold your mud mover past against you," Rick replied, the twinkle in his eye betraying that he was teasing Muck. "Nice reaction on that wave-off too. Not SOP, but you were right about it being your only choice. Where'd a mud mover like you learn that?" "Promise not to laugh me out of the wing, skipper?" "Only if you stop dodging the issue and tell me." "Ireaditinabookonce," Muck mumbled. "You What?" Rick demanded, totally surprised by the revelation. "I read it in a book. The Intruders, by Steven Koontz. Same thing happened to the hero, only he pulled a normal wave off and hooked a wire mid air." Muck's embarrassment blazed across his cheeks as his hands pantomimed what had happened to that unfortunate, forcing Rick to smile and let his new pilot off the hook. "You did good anyway. Now get up there and get those last 5 traps, Muck. I'll monitor you from the bridge." "Aye aye, skipper. And good luck with the XO..." Muck replied. Rick rolled his eyes at that before turning away. * * * * * * * * * The look in Lisa's eyes when she turned after he announced himself only confirmed Rick's apprehensions. It was a look he remembered all to well from his first ill advised comment about sourpusses, a certain embarrassing, yet totally innocent, accident during his first leave... and more times after that than he cared to remember! "Well, Commander? I'm waiting..." Lisa demanded in a rather astringent tone. "Jeez, Commander! His reactions were spot-on. If he'd tried a normal wave off that close in, he probably would have caught a wire in flight and damaged the plane," Rick sighed, wondering how many times he was going to have to repeat himself on this one. "And totally ignored standard procedures in doing so! I wonder what hot shot CAG told him to do that!" Lisa replied hotly. "I didn't have a thing to do with it, Lisa! I was in the back-seat, and he reacted before I could even touch the controls, let alone tell him what to do!" Without realizing it, Rick began to match Lisa in tone and volume. "And in this case, the book is wrong!" "What do you mean, the book is wrong! Those procedures were developed by the best minds on earth to insure your safety!" "And they most certainly didn't take into account landing on a carrier in space! Heck, the carriers weren't even part of the SDF-1 originally, and 'the book' has never been updated to cover space carrier operations!" As the argument continued to build, the normal operation of the bridge began to stop and center on Rick and Lisa, forcing Gloval to step in. Coughing loudly enough to interrupt whatever Lisa was about to say, he drew the attention of both combatants. "Commanders, please. While this discussion might be important, it's disrupting what needs to be done. I'm certain we can handle things for a few minutes while you two finish this discussion off the bridge." At that, Lisa's cheeks reddened as she hung her head in embarrassment. "Go on, Lisa," Claudia encouraged gently. "We can handle it." "That's right ma'am," the ever-irrepressible Sammy added. "But it's almost impossible to keep track of everything over all the shouting." Only Vanessa's attention was not on the pair. Instead, she leaned closer to her comm console. "Kid Driver 201, say again." The voice coming over the speaker distracted Lisa for a moment. "Prometheus control, Kid Driver 201. Request permission to start engines and push." "Roger, 201. You're cleared to start engines. Follow your handler to the elevator, then to cat one for launch," Vanessa replied calmly. Lisa fixed Rick with a hard look, then grabbed him by the elbow and dragged him off the bridge, waiting until the bridge hatch closed before resuming their 'discussion'. "You're sending him back out? So soon?" Lisa asked with a troubled expression. While not a flight officer herself, she still knew that most pilots only made 5 traps a day during flight quals. "Uh huh. He still needs five solo traps to finish his quals. Why, is there a problem?" "Don't you think that's excessively risky to both pilot and plane?" "Not really... but its no picnic out there in a fighter, Lisa. If he can't handle the stress, I need to know before he gets someone hurt. If he can handle this, he can handle anything the Zentraedi throw at us." "That's still no reason to risk the resource he represents, Hunter!" "Jeez, Lisa! What are you getting so worked up about? He's only a ground attack pilot... they're a dime a dozen back on earth!" "Not this one. Hunter, there is something about your new pilot I think you should know..." * * * * * * * * * Muck had just gotten out of the shower and was trying to work up the energy needed to pull on his uniform when Max stuck his head into the locker room. "Hey, Muck. The skipper wants to see you in his cabin, ASAP... And he's not in a good mood." "Oh man... wonder what I did now," Muck sighed. "OK. Thanks, Max. Tell him I'll be there as soon as I get my uniform on." Max nodded and ducked back out as Muck reached into his locker. Five minutes later, Muck was standing at attention in front of a clearly upset Rick Hunter. Rick eyed him up and down before speaking. "I just got done with a very interesting conversation with Commander Hayes, 'Captain' Thunders. In light of that, is there anything in here that you would like to explain?" Rick tapped Muck's service record in emphasis. "Is there anything specific you would like to know, skipper?" Muck replied, eyeing Max cautiously. "How about you take it from the top. And don't worry about Lt. Sterling. As my XO, he has the right to know everything I know." "Well sir... Basically, that service record there is accurate. They just changed a few dates to cover the fact that my active duty was 10 years ago and several dimensions away." "Why? And why wasn't I told?" "Because it was easier than creating a whole new fake history for me, skipper. As far as your not being told right away, you'd have to ask the Captain or the XO, sir." At that Rick sighed and relented slightly. "Ok, at ease. You do realize this sounds like something out of a 'B' movie, don't you?" "How do you think I feel, Skipper? It's not only a 'B' movie, but nobody ever bothered to give me a copy of the script!" Max grinned at Muck's pained expression, and that was what finally swayed Rick. Chucking the service record back onto his desk Rick sighed. "So, what am I supposed to do with you? Let you run the air group through me like a puppet on a string?" "No sir. I'm supposed to be just another pilot under your command... except that I've got more ground target and anti-ship experience than anyone else aboard." "Which is why you're supposedly the TSO?" "Right, sir." "Can the sirs... at least in private, OK Muck?" "You got it, Skipper." "I wouldn't mind seeing a bit of proof you're really who and what they say you are..." Rick noted, leaning back in his chair. "Well, Fred's still locked up off the Prometheus hanger deck. I can introduce you to him if the Captain okays it." "Why does the Captain need to okay it?" Rick pried. "Because otherwise I won't be allowed in... I don't think anyone in high command trusts me, really." "Huh. Can't say as I blame them, Muck. Anyway, Skull's got the early patrol tomorrow, and you're with Max and I. Get out of here and get some rest." "Aye aye, Skipper." With that, Muck turned and exited the cabin. Max waited till the hatch closed before continuing the conversation. "Two days ago, he'd never even been in a Veritech, and now you're putting him in with us? Talk about throwing him in with the sharks, Rick!" "He can handle it... if what Lisa told me is true. Did ya look at those landing tapes like I asked, Max?" "Yup. If he wasn't a ground attack pilot, I'd say dub him Iceman. He's almost as good in the cockpit as I am." "What about the wave off?" "Someone noticed a kink in the number three arresting cable at the last second... they were afraid it was gonna part if you hooked it. And that close in, he reacted the way I would have... and he doesn't have near the hours in type as you and I do..." "Would you believe he got the idea from a book?" "You're kidding, right?" "Nope. He told me as much. Said the hero pulled a standard wave off in the book and hooked a wire mid-air." Max whistled at that. "Good way to bend an airframe. Still, that doesn't explain how he got so good so fast with a V-tech." "I asked Lisa about that. She said Lang looked at his synchro rate from that day in the simulator and freaked. Something about his almost literally becoming one with his plane." Max looked off into space for a moment before replying. "If that's true, then he might be almost as good as we are. Only one way to prove it, though..." "Yup, and if the Zentraedi accommodate us, we'll know by the time we get back tomorrow. Go get some rest, Max..." * * * * * * * * * "Skull, Strike. Bogeys bearing 307 by 310 range blue(4). Intercept and identify," came the voice over the radio, shifting Rick's brain out of autopilot. "Raja, Strike." Rick replied before switching to the squadron net. "On your toes, skulls. Customers at 307 by 310. Max, you and two flight with me. Muck, take three flight and the high cover slot." Two almost bored rajas echoed over the radio as Skull squadron turned and blue thruster flares filled space. As they did, four of the fighters maneuvered slightly to the rear and 'above' the rest. "One, Two, Judy. I make it 36, even mix of pods, heavies, and tri's.(5)" "Raja, two. Break. Strike, Skull. Judy on bandits, engaging. Break. Three, keep those fighters off of us while we take out the rest." Rick's voice remained calm, even as the adrenaline began to flow. "Raja, One," by comparison, though, Muck's voice sounded almost machine like. "Three-two, pincer right on my break call." In 12 cockpits, tracking rings turned red as the Veritechs entered range and their missiles acquired the targets. "Three flight, fire and break," Muck called as missiles erupted from the lead fighters. As the missiles drove in on their targets, the dozen tri-thruster fighters surged forward in an attempt to intercept the oncoming missiles and fighters. Space began to blossom with the spherical flashes of missile detonations, and then the Veritechs were amongst them. Plasma guns and lasers began to fire, only to fall silent as the four birds of Three flight slashed in from both sides. The tri thrusters pitched up to engage, and the others were past, and space became a swirl of mecha and fired ammunition. Pods and fighters jinked and banked, maneuvering for position; a twisting, turning affair that invariably ended with one of the combatants exploding in a fireball. The comm channels fell silent, as the combat became a knife fight, with little time to think and no time to pass instructions over the radio. Ranges and reaction times were to short for missiles, and the Veritechs fought on with gun and laser. The battlepod Rick was chasing went up in a ball of flame, and he checked his radar for the next. Not seeing any, he opened his comm channel. "Strike, Skull one. Bogey dope." "Skull one, Strike. Clear scope," came the reply. "Report status." "Wait one, Strike. Break. Skull one to skulls, fence check." "Skull 12, 2 missiles, no damage." "Skull 14, 3 missiles, right engine at 75." "Two flight, one EV, two damaged, winchester missiles" "Three flight, 3 damaged, 4 missiles" "Strike, Skull. Two down, one EV. 6 damaged. 12 to winchester" "Raja Skull. Ghostrider is ETA 15. RTB once relieved on station." "Raja, strike. Skull out." ++++++++++ (1) Bar-Cap: Barrier Combat Air Patrol. The unit patrols at a set distance from the ship to intercept attackers. Alert-15: The squadron is ready to launch in 15 minutes or less. (2) More carrier jargon for you. This gives the controller all the important info he needs... Type of plane (VF-1d), the pilot can see the visual approach cues (or 'Ball'), is in manual control of the plane, and has 7000 pounds of fuel on board. (3) Marshal: A certain point in the recovery pattern where planes wait for their turn to make their landing approach to the carrier. (4) Range (color): A way of reporting range without giving away critical information. Blue=150 miles, Green=100, Yellow=50, and Red=25. Also roughly equivalent to the areas of each Bar-cap assignment. (5) Shorthand for various types of Zentraedi mecha. Pods are standard battlepods, heavies carry two heavy missiles on top, and Tri's are the tri thruster fighter mecha.