Maj.Striker
Swabbie
Banned
Well, as you may or may not knowt he WC Comic project of Kenshi is officialy considered abandoned as I have not been able to contact him for many months now. However I think the idea was quite fun and I thought I'd share the opening fiction behind the project.
2654.288 A.D.
Proxima System, Douglas Quadrant (Vega Sector).
TCS Falcon
Captain Hermann “Baron” Vorchstein eyed the cards in his hand coolly, they hadn’t been favorable to him lately and it was certainly looking like his luck wasn’t going to change anytime soon. Tearing his eyes away from his dismal hand of cards he eyed his opponent seated directly across from him. Poker peer, Lt. Jonathan Craft was still intensely focused on whatever hand he held. Hermann had no doubt that whatever the young lieutenant was holding it had to be better than his own cards. Hermann had almost bowed out last round and now that he had seen what he had been dealt he regretted his decision to stick it out for another hand. Well, here was yet another week’s salary gone down the drain with nothing but a rotten spirit to show for it. What a disgrace…Hermann shifted his gaze to his immediate left to see longtime flying partner, Sarah Molynieux, looking entirely too pleased with her cards. Perhaps that wasn’t such a bad thing, if he was going to lose his money it might as well to Sarah, better her than the silent Jonathan Craft. Hermann could swear the man didn’t have a tongue, he rarely spoke a word even when it was important. There was no way Hermann could tell what Jonathan was holding in his hands but it was clear that Sarah was packing a winner, she typically didn’t let her emotions show during the game. Then again, she could be bluffing, it wasn’t entirely unlike her, she was a habitual risk taker.
Hermann swung his focus back to his right and found the intense black eyes of Lt. Ling Wu staring right back at him. He managed to flash a wry smile and looked back down at his hand of cards. When he glanced back up he found her still staring at him. That girl was more than a little unnerving when it came to playing cards, she became an ice queen fixated on peering into his soul. None of his gentlemanly grace and charm seemed to work with her, not that he’d intentionally try to manipulate her in any way but it was slightly disturbing that he had been unsuccessful in even eliciting a smile from the Japanese pilot.
“Everybody ready?”
Sarah’s voice crashed through Hermann’s wandering thoughts bringing him back to the game at hand. Across from him, Jonathan nodded, his eyes never leaving his card. Hermann gave his own dismal shrug then slowly placed his cards on the table. He glanced to his right as the impenetrable Lieutenant Wu discarded her own cards with apparent grim determination. Hermann had to bite his bottom lip from breaking out into a smile, somehow Fate had been kind. The steel eyed Lieutenant had managed to receive worse cards then his own depressing hand. Ling seemed rather resigned to her fate considering she had just as much riding on this hand as did he, and he was pulling in a Captain’s pay whereas she was running a good grade below him on a lieutenant’s pay. At least she was a decent loser. If there was one thing Hermann hated it was a sore loser. Across the table, the often silent Jonathan shook his head in resignation then laid his hand down. Hermann raised an eyebrow at the Lieutenant’s feeble cards. Somehow, these poor lieutenants had been dealt a cruel twist to be given such a sad collection. Compared to their cards, his pathetic hand looked pretty decent. Still, that left only Sarah left to play. He glanced back at her expecting to see her radiant winning smile but was surprised to see her jubilant expression deflate.
“I got nothing…looks like you take this one, Hermann. Although how you can that much money with that crappy of a hand is beyond my understanding. It’s got to be that German luck of yours.”
Hermann let a wide grin cover his hawkish face as he leaned forward to rake the large pile of confederation credits towards his edge of the table. Despite the humble hand dealt to him, fate had decreed him a winner tonight, he was well ahead of where he had started the evening at and far better than where he had thought he would be only a few minutes earlier. He was beginning to think that maybe he should stick around for a few more rounds.
“I don’t believe you cleaned me out on such a rotten hand, what a load of filthy crock!” Sarah declared, continuing her tirade with mock sullenness. Hermann knew that their long friendship was in no danger of being shattered by one small card game so he flashed her a wide grin that hinted at a rematch. She met his preying smile with a dark glare then turned her attention to the table next to them.
“Hey, Stoneman, why don’t you come join us for a round and ante up that fat major’s pension of yours, I’d love to get me a piece of that.”
Herman twisted in his seat to get a good look at the sole occupant of the adjoining table. Major Jack “Stoneman” Bradley didn’t even look up from the news pad he was intensely scrolling. “Sorry, Widowmaker, I’m not a gambling man. But if I did, you’d never touch my money.” He replied with a somber voice, his eyes still playing across his data pad.
“Come on, why don’t you at least give me a shot at it? I’m already thinking of ways I could be spending it. Besides, playing a round of cards has got to be more exiting than reading reports from the front.” Sarah persisted, her voice taking on a slightly pleading tone. Herman glanced back at his table companions. Jonathan was idly shuffling the deck of cards, indolently taking in Sarah and Jack’s conversation. Sara was still watching Major Bradley, clearly expecting him to look up at her eventually. Ling was also closely watching the Major, her gaze remained fixed on the Major’s downturned head. Herman took a second look at the young lieutenant, her stare was more than just idly observing the Major, she was practically entranced by him. It certainly was no cold poker stare now; it almost appeared that the young pilot had a crush. Now that was interesting, it would explain a lot of things, her apparent spurning of his usual comedic genius, her often silent moodiness; she was practically emulating the Major. Why hadn’t he picked up on that before? Hermann wondered if Jack had already noticed. Most likely he had, there wasn’t much that slipped the Major’s careful attention, he was an extremely observant man.
“Well, enlighten us feeble folk, what is the latest news from the front?” Hermann asked as he lazily stretched his long legs inadvertently bumping his against Sarah’s underneath the small table. She winked at him and flashed a mischievous smile in response.
“Hmm, well it would appear that the Tiger’s Claw is ripping the Kilrathi a new one in the Rostov System. Yesterday, Major Michael Casey and a certain Captain Christopher Blair iced a Kilrathi Cruiser and its escorts with just a pair of Raptors. Now you know that had to be some damn fine flying.” Jack stated as he finally looked up from his news pad. “They evidently have become quite the heroes of late, average schmoes like you pale in comparision.” He continued with just the slightest trace of a smile to indicate his harmless jest.
“Wow, this is like the 3rd time in the past 2 months I’ve heard of this Blair fellow, sounds like he’s a hot item right now.” Sarah remarked stoically. Hermann caught just the slightest twinge of jealousy in her voice, though she’d never admit it, Hermann knew Sarah truly enjoyed being in the spot light. She had already had her moment in the news headlines for her maneuver against a Ralari destroyer in Hubbles Star but it was clear she wouldn’t have minded a few more good news stories about her.
“He may be a good pilot, but he’s no legend like the Iceman.” Lieutenant Wu suddenly spoke up. It appeared she had finally broken the hypnotic spell she had been under, or maybe it was because the Major had started talking so now she felt she could. Hermann was going to have to watch her more closely to see just how deep these feelings for Major Bradley were. Things could definitely get interesting.
“That, he may not be just yet, but according to what Michael wrote me in his last email, this kid is the real thing. He’s got natural ability in the cockpit and knows how to stay cool in hot situations, sounds like he may really develop into something.”
Jack replied, as he laid the news pad down on the table. Hermann nodded absently and shifted to the side of his chair. Shadow had laid the deck of cards down realizing there wasn’t likely to be another round. Sarah was tugging at the collar of her uniform, something of which she complained daily. Once she had even threatened to sue the designer, but fortunately had been distracted before she launched her typical lecture.
“That’s right, I forgot, you used to serve on the Claw didn’t you?” Hermann asked as he began to sort his recent winnings into different credit denominations. Major Bradley nodded slowly before replying.
“Yeah, I spent 7 years on that ship. Started at Custer’s Carnival, what a hell of a way to start a pilot career, I guess better that than a quagmire like McAuliffe. The Claw is a fine ship, got a hell of a crew and has probably scored more Kilrathi kills than any other ship in the fleet.” Jack replied, his admiration for his former ship and comrades showing strongly in his voice. Hermann could understand the man’s pride, after all the Claw was practically the poster ship of the fleet. If there had been any battle worth fighting, odds were that the Claw had been somehow involved in it.
“So you know the Iceman?” Ling asked softly, her voice barely carrying across the small bar room. Hermann was almost surprised the girl had worked up the courage to speak directly to Jack, the girl was timid almost to the point of reclusive when it came to actually addressing the Major.
“Know him? I was his wingman for the better part of those 7 years, so I guess I know him…” Jack’s voice trailed off as he recalled the change that had taken place, the fact that was common knowledge to most every pilot in confed. “At least, I know him as well as anyone does these days.”
“What’s he like?”
“Well, that depends. Before the Kilrathi murdered his family he was pretty much like any one of you. Young, full of life, loved to fly, had a great sense of humor but really only what you would probably consider an average pilot. He was a good wingman, someone you wanted covering your six. Then, after he lost his family, he changed overnight. He refused to take bereavement leave and insisted on remaining in the flight lineup. In that first month, he made the Kilrathi pay dearly. Those cats must have thought Confed had a new secret weapon he was piling it on them so much. He was a weapon of their own making.” Jack paused for a second reflecting on his former wingman, “He’s probably the best pilot I know, he flies with a type of cunning I’ve never seen in any other pilot. He knows how to use anything and everything to his advantage, that’s how he invented the Iceman maneuver.”
Hermann listened reverently, for although he’d heard many stories of the Iceman from the Tiger’s Claw, Jack’s personal accounts were always much better, the other stories always seemed to pack more fiction than fact but at least with Jack he knew he was getting the real scoop. Hermann could see Ling was eating up every word the Major was saying, no real surprise there. The other two were clearly interested as well, even the oft silent and indifferent Lieutenant Craft was listening intently. Widowmaker had clearly forgotten her intentions of winning Major Bradley’s salary in the card game and was twisted in her seat listening to Jack describe his former wingman. The story probably would have continued but a young jarring voice unexpectedly and unwelcomed boomed out from behind them.
“Attention!!!”
All five pilots turned to face the bar’s open entrance and found a clean cut, black youthful 2nd class lieutenant standing boldly framed in the doorway. Beside him, looking extremely embarrassed and timid was another lieutenant, his eyes frantically roving as if searching for a quick way out of the room.
“Now presenting the greatest replacement pilots this bucket of bolts has ever had the greatest pleasure to carry within its rusty innards, Lieutenant Charles ‘Suicide’ Conner and his trusty sidekick, ‘Lefty!’”
The ebony skinned lieutenant was anything but timid, Hermann had to give him that but although he appeared to be the direct opposite of the tacit Lieutenant Craft, this Charles Conner was quickly looking to be a hundred times as annoying. With his introduction apparently completed, the smiling lieutenant strode forward clearly intent on sitting down next to the Major. He was about three feet from Jack’s table when he caught the Major’s eyes and stopped dead in his tracks.
“Baron, would you please explain the rules to this young plebe, please?” Sarah asked sweetly, her voice laced so thick with courtesy not even the outspoken lieutenant could miss the sarcasm. Still smiling, the lanky pilot took a seat at a separate table across from them and a good distance from the Major. Hermann smiled at Sarah, then swung around to address the already slightly tamed lieutenant.
“Alright then…Charles, let’s get a few things cleared up here. You are not God’s gift to the cockpit or to women. You are not even the first lieutenant to be assigned to this ‘rusty bucket of bolts’ that has made his own unexpected speech of greatness to the entire bar, as humble a crowd as we may be. So, here’s the ground rules, you shut your mouth and listen to us 90% of the time and you talk about 10% of the time. If you can hold to the 90/10 rule you should do just fine. If you continue to act like an ass then you’ll probably find yourself handcuffed to your bunk one morning with shaving cream in peculiar places while the Colonel is hollering out for inspection. Believe me, it has happened before on this ship.”
2654.288 A.D.
Proxima System, Douglas Quadrant (Vega Sector).
TCS Falcon
Captain Hermann “Baron” Vorchstein eyed the cards in his hand coolly, they hadn’t been favorable to him lately and it was certainly looking like his luck wasn’t going to change anytime soon. Tearing his eyes away from his dismal hand of cards he eyed his opponent seated directly across from him. Poker peer, Lt. Jonathan Craft was still intensely focused on whatever hand he held. Hermann had no doubt that whatever the young lieutenant was holding it had to be better than his own cards. Hermann had almost bowed out last round and now that he had seen what he had been dealt he regretted his decision to stick it out for another hand. Well, here was yet another week’s salary gone down the drain with nothing but a rotten spirit to show for it. What a disgrace…Hermann shifted his gaze to his immediate left to see longtime flying partner, Sarah Molynieux, looking entirely too pleased with her cards. Perhaps that wasn’t such a bad thing, if he was going to lose his money it might as well to Sarah, better her than the silent Jonathan Craft. Hermann could swear the man didn’t have a tongue, he rarely spoke a word even when it was important. There was no way Hermann could tell what Jonathan was holding in his hands but it was clear that Sarah was packing a winner, she typically didn’t let her emotions show during the game. Then again, she could be bluffing, it wasn’t entirely unlike her, she was a habitual risk taker.
Hermann swung his focus back to his right and found the intense black eyes of Lt. Ling Wu staring right back at him. He managed to flash a wry smile and looked back down at his hand of cards. When he glanced back up he found her still staring at him. That girl was more than a little unnerving when it came to playing cards, she became an ice queen fixated on peering into his soul. None of his gentlemanly grace and charm seemed to work with her, not that he’d intentionally try to manipulate her in any way but it was slightly disturbing that he had been unsuccessful in even eliciting a smile from the Japanese pilot.
“Everybody ready?”
Sarah’s voice crashed through Hermann’s wandering thoughts bringing him back to the game at hand. Across from him, Jonathan nodded, his eyes never leaving his card. Hermann gave his own dismal shrug then slowly placed his cards on the table. He glanced to his right as the impenetrable Lieutenant Wu discarded her own cards with apparent grim determination. Hermann had to bite his bottom lip from breaking out into a smile, somehow Fate had been kind. The steel eyed Lieutenant had managed to receive worse cards then his own depressing hand. Ling seemed rather resigned to her fate considering she had just as much riding on this hand as did he, and he was pulling in a Captain’s pay whereas she was running a good grade below him on a lieutenant’s pay. At least she was a decent loser. If there was one thing Hermann hated it was a sore loser. Across the table, the often silent Jonathan shook his head in resignation then laid his hand down. Hermann raised an eyebrow at the Lieutenant’s feeble cards. Somehow, these poor lieutenants had been dealt a cruel twist to be given such a sad collection. Compared to their cards, his pathetic hand looked pretty decent. Still, that left only Sarah left to play. He glanced back at her expecting to see her radiant winning smile but was surprised to see her jubilant expression deflate.
“I got nothing…looks like you take this one, Hermann. Although how you can that much money with that crappy of a hand is beyond my understanding. It’s got to be that German luck of yours.”
Hermann let a wide grin cover his hawkish face as he leaned forward to rake the large pile of confederation credits towards his edge of the table. Despite the humble hand dealt to him, fate had decreed him a winner tonight, he was well ahead of where he had started the evening at and far better than where he had thought he would be only a few minutes earlier. He was beginning to think that maybe he should stick around for a few more rounds.
“I don’t believe you cleaned me out on such a rotten hand, what a load of filthy crock!” Sarah declared, continuing her tirade with mock sullenness. Hermann knew that their long friendship was in no danger of being shattered by one small card game so he flashed her a wide grin that hinted at a rematch. She met his preying smile with a dark glare then turned her attention to the table next to them.
“Hey, Stoneman, why don’t you come join us for a round and ante up that fat major’s pension of yours, I’d love to get me a piece of that.”
Herman twisted in his seat to get a good look at the sole occupant of the adjoining table. Major Jack “Stoneman” Bradley didn’t even look up from the news pad he was intensely scrolling. “Sorry, Widowmaker, I’m not a gambling man. But if I did, you’d never touch my money.” He replied with a somber voice, his eyes still playing across his data pad.
“Come on, why don’t you at least give me a shot at it? I’m already thinking of ways I could be spending it. Besides, playing a round of cards has got to be more exiting than reading reports from the front.” Sarah persisted, her voice taking on a slightly pleading tone. Herman glanced back at his table companions. Jonathan was idly shuffling the deck of cards, indolently taking in Sarah and Jack’s conversation. Sara was still watching Major Bradley, clearly expecting him to look up at her eventually. Ling was also closely watching the Major, her gaze remained fixed on the Major’s downturned head. Herman took a second look at the young lieutenant, her stare was more than just idly observing the Major, she was practically entranced by him. It certainly was no cold poker stare now; it almost appeared that the young pilot had a crush. Now that was interesting, it would explain a lot of things, her apparent spurning of his usual comedic genius, her often silent moodiness; she was practically emulating the Major. Why hadn’t he picked up on that before? Hermann wondered if Jack had already noticed. Most likely he had, there wasn’t much that slipped the Major’s careful attention, he was an extremely observant man.
“Well, enlighten us feeble folk, what is the latest news from the front?” Hermann asked as he lazily stretched his long legs inadvertently bumping his against Sarah’s underneath the small table. She winked at him and flashed a mischievous smile in response.
“Hmm, well it would appear that the Tiger’s Claw is ripping the Kilrathi a new one in the Rostov System. Yesterday, Major Michael Casey and a certain Captain Christopher Blair iced a Kilrathi Cruiser and its escorts with just a pair of Raptors. Now you know that had to be some damn fine flying.” Jack stated as he finally looked up from his news pad. “They evidently have become quite the heroes of late, average schmoes like you pale in comparision.” He continued with just the slightest trace of a smile to indicate his harmless jest.
“Wow, this is like the 3rd time in the past 2 months I’ve heard of this Blair fellow, sounds like he’s a hot item right now.” Sarah remarked stoically. Hermann caught just the slightest twinge of jealousy in her voice, though she’d never admit it, Hermann knew Sarah truly enjoyed being in the spot light. She had already had her moment in the news headlines for her maneuver against a Ralari destroyer in Hubbles Star but it was clear she wouldn’t have minded a few more good news stories about her.
“He may be a good pilot, but he’s no legend like the Iceman.” Lieutenant Wu suddenly spoke up. It appeared she had finally broken the hypnotic spell she had been under, or maybe it was because the Major had started talking so now she felt she could. Hermann was going to have to watch her more closely to see just how deep these feelings for Major Bradley were. Things could definitely get interesting.
“That, he may not be just yet, but according to what Michael wrote me in his last email, this kid is the real thing. He’s got natural ability in the cockpit and knows how to stay cool in hot situations, sounds like he may really develop into something.”
Jack replied, as he laid the news pad down on the table. Hermann nodded absently and shifted to the side of his chair. Shadow had laid the deck of cards down realizing there wasn’t likely to be another round. Sarah was tugging at the collar of her uniform, something of which she complained daily. Once she had even threatened to sue the designer, but fortunately had been distracted before she launched her typical lecture.
“That’s right, I forgot, you used to serve on the Claw didn’t you?” Hermann asked as he began to sort his recent winnings into different credit denominations. Major Bradley nodded slowly before replying.
“Yeah, I spent 7 years on that ship. Started at Custer’s Carnival, what a hell of a way to start a pilot career, I guess better that than a quagmire like McAuliffe. The Claw is a fine ship, got a hell of a crew and has probably scored more Kilrathi kills than any other ship in the fleet.” Jack replied, his admiration for his former ship and comrades showing strongly in his voice. Hermann could understand the man’s pride, after all the Claw was practically the poster ship of the fleet. If there had been any battle worth fighting, odds were that the Claw had been somehow involved in it.
“So you know the Iceman?” Ling asked softly, her voice barely carrying across the small bar room. Hermann was almost surprised the girl had worked up the courage to speak directly to Jack, the girl was timid almost to the point of reclusive when it came to actually addressing the Major.
“Know him? I was his wingman for the better part of those 7 years, so I guess I know him…” Jack’s voice trailed off as he recalled the change that had taken place, the fact that was common knowledge to most every pilot in confed. “At least, I know him as well as anyone does these days.”
“What’s he like?”
“Well, that depends. Before the Kilrathi murdered his family he was pretty much like any one of you. Young, full of life, loved to fly, had a great sense of humor but really only what you would probably consider an average pilot. He was a good wingman, someone you wanted covering your six. Then, after he lost his family, he changed overnight. He refused to take bereavement leave and insisted on remaining in the flight lineup. In that first month, he made the Kilrathi pay dearly. Those cats must have thought Confed had a new secret weapon he was piling it on them so much. He was a weapon of their own making.” Jack paused for a second reflecting on his former wingman, “He’s probably the best pilot I know, he flies with a type of cunning I’ve never seen in any other pilot. He knows how to use anything and everything to his advantage, that’s how he invented the Iceman maneuver.”
Hermann listened reverently, for although he’d heard many stories of the Iceman from the Tiger’s Claw, Jack’s personal accounts were always much better, the other stories always seemed to pack more fiction than fact but at least with Jack he knew he was getting the real scoop. Hermann could see Ling was eating up every word the Major was saying, no real surprise there. The other two were clearly interested as well, even the oft silent and indifferent Lieutenant Craft was listening intently. Widowmaker had clearly forgotten her intentions of winning Major Bradley’s salary in the card game and was twisted in her seat listening to Jack describe his former wingman. The story probably would have continued but a young jarring voice unexpectedly and unwelcomed boomed out from behind them.
“Attention!!!”
All five pilots turned to face the bar’s open entrance and found a clean cut, black youthful 2nd class lieutenant standing boldly framed in the doorway. Beside him, looking extremely embarrassed and timid was another lieutenant, his eyes frantically roving as if searching for a quick way out of the room.
“Now presenting the greatest replacement pilots this bucket of bolts has ever had the greatest pleasure to carry within its rusty innards, Lieutenant Charles ‘Suicide’ Conner and his trusty sidekick, ‘Lefty!’”
The ebony skinned lieutenant was anything but timid, Hermann had to give him that but although he appeared to be the direct opposite of the tacit Lieutenant Craft, this Charles Conner was quickly looking to be a hundred times as annoying. With his introduction apparently completed, the smiling lieutenant strode forward clearly intent on sitting down next to the Major. He was about three feet from Jack’s table when he caught the Major’s eyes and stopped dead in his tracks.
“Baron, would you please explain the rules to this young plebe, please?” Sarah asked sweetly, her voice laced so thick with courtesy not even the outspoken lieutenant could miss the sarcasm. Still smiling, the lanky pilot took a seat at a separate table across from them and a good distance from the Major. Hermann smiled at Sarah, then swung around to address the already slightly tamed lieutenant.
“Alright then…Charles, let’s get a few things cleared up here. You are not God’s gift to the cockpit or to women. You are not even the first lieutenant to be assigned to this ‘rusty bucket of bolts’ that has made his own unexpected speech of greatness to the entire bar, as humble a crowd as we may be. So, here’s the ground rules, you shut your mouth and listen to us 90% of the time and you talk about 10% of the time. If you can hold to the 90/10 rule you should do just fine. If you continue to act like an ass then you’ll probably find yourself handcuffed to your bunk one morning with shaving cream in peculiar places while the Colonel is hollering out for inspection. Believe me, it has happened before on this ship.”