Wing Commander in Real Time - Day 3 - 0700 Zulu

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Script

161 EXT. NEAR TIGER CLAW

The remaining Kilrathi fighters break off their
engagements and high tail it back toward the far side of
the twin moons.


162 EXT. RAPIERS - MANIAC and FORBES

MANIAC
Forbes, you want some more?


FORBES
Like you have to ask.


Maniac and Forbes gun their two Rapiers after the fleeing
ships. Then...


DEVERAUX (O.S.)
Baker One to all Baker pilots. Return
to the ship. Repeat, return to the
ship!


FORBES
Maniac?


MANIAC
Hey! What about my needs?

163 EXT. FLEEING KILRATHI FIGHTERS

Suddenly two Dralthi veer around and head back, on a
collision course.


164 INT. RAPIER COCKPIT - FORBES

Forbes sees the oncoming Dralthi...


FORBES
They're trying to ram! I guess they
don't want to play nice.


... and opens fire with everything she's got. The Dralthi
disintegrates right in front of her.


MANIAC's POV: The second Dralthi coming straight at
him.


MANIAC
Watch this Rosie.


And Maniac guns his Rapier right at the Dralthi...


FORBES
Shoot him..MANIAC, OPEN FIRE!


But Maniac continues on a collision course. Forbes brings
her Rapier in behind Maniac, trying to get a shot on the
Dralthi...


FORBES (CONT'D)
Shoot him, or I will!


MANIAC
It's all in the timing...


The Dralthi and Maniac's fighter are within seconds of
colliding...


When Maniac ROLLS his fighter sideways, pulls his nose up
and lets loose a volley of cannon fire into the Dralthi's
cockpit! The Dralthi critically hit, JUST MISSES
Maniac's ship and spirals out of control right into...

SC. 165 OMIT

166 EXT. RAPIER - FORBES

Maniac realizes, but it's too late!


MANIAC (O.S.)
(shouting)
Rosie, shit! PULL UP!


But Forbes can't react quick enough -- The Dralthi
strikes the side of her ship, amid a shower of sparks.


167 EXT. RAPIERS - MANIAC AND FORBES

Maniac comes alongside Forbes heavily damaged fighter.
One entire side has been nearly shorn away. One engine
remains. Still Forbes, injured, is holding her steady.
Maniac eases her Rapier in until he can look into her
cockpit.


MANIAC
Rosie. Can you hold her?


FORBES
I could fly this thing and cook you
breakfast.


But the Rapier wobbles and veers dangerously.


168 INT. RAPIER COCKPIT - MANIAC AND FORBES

Forbes steadies her craft.


MANIAC
Hey, quit showing off.


FORBES
Impressive, huh?


MANIAC
Eject. I'll tractor you in.


FORBES
You'd love that, wouldn't you? The
ejection system is fried.


MANIAC
Just stay with me, Rosie. We'll do it
together.


The two Rapiers are, in fact, coming in on the open doors
to the Tiger Claw's flight deck.

169 FORBES POV - THE TIGER CLAW

Forbes fighter continues to shutter and yaw. She fights
it and lines upon the flight deck, a yellow beam of
light leading the way.


FORBES
Jeez, the ship looks worse than I do
after a three day shore pass.


INTERCUT WITH:

170 INT. RAPIER COCKPIT - MANIAC

He glances over at Forbes cockpit, only yards away.


MANIAC
(over radio)
Baker three and four to Con. We're
coming in. Clear away everything that
isn't bolted down.


FLIGHT BOSS
((responds; radio)
Roger that, Baker three and four. Clear
to land.


MANIAC
(worried, now)
We're coming in too hot.


FORBES
Sorry, but my brakes are in the shop.


MANIAC
Line it up. That's it.


FORBES
Piece of cake. Just like before.


MANIAC
Except that you're right side up.


FORBES
(almost chuckles)
I knew something was wrong!


MANIAC
Almost there.


Through the canopy, Maniac can see the doors widening
like a giant mouth. They're moving too fast. He glances
over. Forbes Rapier is shuttering and yawing.


MANIAC
Okay... Easy. Just ease it in.


Forbes is fighting the controls with all her might.


FORBES
(tension in her voice)
I love it when you talk dirty.


MANIAC
Pull up! Pull up!

SC. 171 OMIT

172 INT. TIGER CLAW - FLIGHT DECK

The two Rapiers appear in the door. Maniac's Rapier
manages to land, but Forbes catches a wing and FLIPS ONTO
ITS BACK, slides to a stop outside the air lock force
field.


Maniac's craft nearly crashes before he can stop. He pops
the canopy and leaps out, running toward the crash.


BLAIR runs after him. In the background we can see
Blair's Rapier and Paladin, being tended by a Medic.


BLAIR
She's outside the airlock! You go
through the force field and you're
jello!


MANIAC
(Out of control)
Get me a suit! Get me a suit!


He runs toward the force field, staring through it at the
wreckage of Forbes Rapier.


MANIAC (CONT'D)
(Screams)
Rosie! Rosie!


173 EXT. TIGER CLAW

A dozen Rapiers are still hovering outside the flight
deck doors in formation.

174 INT. RAPIER COCKPIT - DEVERAUX

Deveraux looks out through her canopy, sees the wreckage
of Forbes' Rapier.
DEVERAUX
Forbes? Rosie? Can you hear me? Rosie?
Answer. Just key your mike, if you can.
Come on girl. Just one little click.

174A INT. RAPIER COCKPIT - FORBES

She mortally wounded and knows it. She won't break radio silence and risk the rest of her comrades in a vain attempt to save her. She ignores Deveraux's pleas.

174B INT. RAPIER COCKPIT - DEVERAUX

None of the other pilots breaks the long silence.
Until...


HUNTER
I've got approximately ninety seconds
of fuel left, Commander.


PILOT's VOICE
Ditto, for me.


Deveraux studies the wreckage. Could anyone have
survived? Finally....


DEVERAUX
Rosie...?
(silence)
Baker leader to Con. Push that wreckage
off the deck!


Deveraux can't take her eyes off the wreckage.


175 INT. TIGER CLAW - FLIGHT DECK

A AUTOMATED BULLDOZER-LIKE VEHICLE with a big blade in
front, built expressly for this purpose, trundles toward
the air lock curtain and the Rapier wreckage. The noise
makes Maniac turn.


MANIAC
Hey...? What are you doing? Hey!


Maniac runs past the heavy vehicle and looks up at the
Con Tower windows, in the wall above him. He can see the
rim faced Flight Boss there. He begins waving his arms.


MANIAC (CONT'D)
Hey! You can't do this! You can't do
this. Stop! Stop! Please!


The bulldozer goes through the force field. Maniac runs
after it. Last second, BLAIR tackles him!


BLAIR
There's nothing you can do!


MANIAC
Get off me you Pilgrim son-of-a-bitch!


He hits Blair hard in the mouth. Blood spurts, and
Blair's grip on Maniac breaks. Maniac runs towards the
bulldozer. But Blair manages to wrestle him to the
ground.
BLAIR
(angry)
Are you going to kill yourself too?


Held by Blair, Maniac watches in silent horror as the
bulldozer PUSHES THE RAPIER WRECKAGE OFF THE DECK.

SC. 176 OMIT

177 INT. RAPIER COCKPIT - DEVERAUX

HER POV: The wreckage of Forbes' Rapier tumbling away.
The cockpit has been cracked. It's surface reflects light
into Deveraux's eyes once, then it floats clear of her
line of sight. A moment passes. Then....


DEVERAUX
Baker Leader to Con. Request permission
to land.

178 INT. TIGER CLAW - FLIGHT DECK

The waiting Rapiers land. Deveraux's Rapier is the last
one in...


Deveraux climbs out of her plane. Blair, Maniac, Hunter,
Polanski and others stand on the deck -- Forbes was their
unofficial leader.


Deveraux fights to keep it together -- she cannot show
any emotion to her subordinates. She sees Blair -- she
averts her eyes and lands on Maniac. She marches up to
him.


DEVERAUX
Lt. Marshall you disobeyed a direct
order.


MANIAC
I was --


DEVERAUX
Which during wartime is considered
treason and punishable by death.
Hunter -- give me your gun.


Hunter and the other's exchange worried glances. Blair
steps forward.


BLAIR
You can' bring her back.


DEVERAUX
There is no one to bring back -- give
me your gun, Hunter.


Maniac meets Deveraux's eyes -- he's worried, but hides
it.


Hunter takes out his gun.


BLAIR
Hunter, put the gun away.


HUNTER
She's the CO, nugget.


Blair moves toward Hunter, Polanski grabs him. Hunter
gives Deveraux the gun. She raises it up to Maniac's
chest -- he's not moving.


BLAIR
What's with you? It was a stupid
accident. He has to live with it.


Deveraux takes a breath -- her hand trembles slightly.


DEVERAUX
If you endanger another pilot, I will
kill you.


Deveraux lowers the gun. She turns and walks past Hunter
and hands it to him. As she walks across the flight
deck, all the pilots look at Maniac.

Storyboards

Novelization

CHAPTER 20

PLANETARY SYSTEM 415
ULYSSES CORRIDOR
MARCH 17, 2654
0700 HOURS
ZULU TIME
6 HOURS FROM
CHARYBOIS QUASAR
JUMP POINT


Thrown forward by a sudden, brutal jerk, Taggart grimaced, but that
expression turned to surprise as he realized that the ejection pod no
longer plunged toward the moon.
Or had he already struck the moon, died, and been sent to some
purgatorial state wherein he would repeatedly relive his own death? Relive
his own death. There was an oxymoron…
He touched his cheek. No, he felt real. The rest of his senses concurred.
He spotted the faint illumination of a tractor beam hugging the pod's hull.
Then a Rapier descended beside the pod, and Taggart read the pilot's
name along the cockpit's edge: Lt. Christopher Blair. The young man held
his hand in a salute, which Taggart returned. "You're bleeding, sir," Blair
said.
Taggart touched the gash in his forehead. "And you had an order to
retreat."
"Which I obeyed."
"Then why are you here?"
"Uh, I got lost, sir. Came looking for directions."
"Mr. Blair. Pilgrims never get lost."
* * *
Maniac's smile withered as the remaining Kilrathi fighters regrouped
and began retreating behind the planet's moons. All but one of those pilots
needed to die. The cat left alive would warn every clan of Maniac's fury.
Maniac would become a legend among the Kilrathi, his picture posted in
pilots' berths: Have you fought against this hairless ape? This
foul-smelling being is the empire's most wanted pilot.
But none of that would happen unless Maniac went after the fleeing
cats. "Hey, Rosie? You want some more?"
The VDU flickered, and she appeared, lifting her brow. "Like you have
to ask?"
They gunned their Rapiers in a sudden U-turn, chasing after the Krant,
Salthi, and Dralthi fighters still in the open.
"ETA to catville: five seconds," Maniac said through a returning grin.
"Baker One to all Baker pilots. Return to base. Repeat. Return to base."
Maniac fired a look of disgust at Lieutenant Commander Deveraux
before her image went dark in his VDU. Luckily for him, his mask
concealed the look. He eased on his throttle and held course.
"Maniac?" Forbes called in a warning tone.
"Hey. What about my needs?"
"Your needs? We just received—" She never finished.
Two Dralthi fighters that had been trailing the pack pulled up and
away from their wing. Like mechanized manta rays, they swung around to
target Maniac and Forbes.
"They'll try to ram," Forbes said, one Dralthi rushing straight for her.
"Guess they don't wanna play nice." She opened up with everything she
had, tearing the fighter into scraps of superheated plastisteel.
The second Dralthi aimed for Maniac, and the enemy pilot's disgusting
mug suddenly spoiled Maniac's display. If that weren't enough, the
computer translated its taunt. "You will bleed for Sivar, you ignorant
descendant of monkeys!" The cat widened its urine-colored eyes.
Maniac let out a snort. "Tell Sivar he can kiss my ass." Then he
switched to Forbes's channel. "Watch this, Rosie."
Putting the proverbial pedal to the metal, Maniac howled as the
afterburners threw him back. He centered his targeting reticle over the
Dralthi—but he had no intention of firing. A collision alarm blared.
Distance: 1,000 meters.
"Shoot him, Maniac!" Forbes hollered. "Open fire!"
700 meters.
"Warning. If you do not alter your present course—" Maniac switched
off the computer warning.
500 meters.
He brought up the aft turret view and saw Forbes trailing at his five
o'clock high.
"What are you waiting for, Maniac?"
"For him."
300 meters.
"Shoot him. Or I will!"
"It's all in the timing…"
100 meters.
Forbes fired over Maniac's shoulder, but the bolts fell wide.
50 meters.
"Pull out!"
"Not yet."
30 meters.
Realizing that the Kilrathi pilot had no intention of changing course
and every intention of dying, Maniac rolled the Rapier to starboard. He
express-delivered a volley of laser fire that stitched its way across the
fighter's cockpit, mortally wounding the cat inside.
With only centimeters between them, the two fighters passed, the
Dralthi now trailing nutrient gas and tumbling toward—
"Rosie!" Maniac cried. "Shit. Pull up!"
Her Rapier's nose lifted a few degrees.
Not enough.
The Dralthi's wings acted like the blades of a fan to tear spark-lit
gashes in her fighter's starboard side and belly. Forbes jerked the Rapier
in an attempt to pull away, but the impact forced her into a roll that
suddenly evolved into a flat spin. She throttled up to recover, flying
straight but bobbing on invisible waves. One of her thrusters had been
sheared away, and escaping fluids streaked her fuselage.
Maniac descended to form on her wing. "Rosie. Can you hold her?"
"I could fly this thing and cook you breakfast." Interference crept into
her signal as her malfunctioning comm system promised to shut down.
She had some control, but the Rapier wobbled and veered dangerously
close to Maniac.
"Hey, quit showing off," he said, then widened the distance between
them.
"Impressive, huh?"
"Eject. I'll tractor you in."
"You'd like that, wouldn't you? The ejection system is fried."
He took in a deep breath. "Just stay with me, Rosie. We'll do it
together."
Ten minutes later, they neared the carrier's scorched flight deck.
"Oh, man," Maniac said, responding to the devastation.
"The ship looks worse than I do after a three-day shore pass," she said.
Maniac struggled to find just one section of the Tiger Claw that did not
bear the wounds of combat. A gaping hole had been torn in her
engineering deck. Her superstructure bore the jagged scars of hundreds of
laser bolts and debris pitched off from explosions. Most of her dishes and
antennae had been hacked away. Wrecked fighters from both sides floated
near her upper decks, turning them into a labyrinth of graveyards. She
limped through space, barely lit, her intimidating presence now tucked
into her damaged recesses.
"Say, honey?" Maniac said. "Let's find another hotel. This place is a
dive."
"Yeah, but she's the only dive in town."
He sighed. "Baker Three and Four to Flight Control. We're coming in
for a side-by-sider. Clear away everything that ain't bolted down."
Boss Raznick, his beefy face hanging tiredly, replied, "Roger that, Baker
Three and Four. Clear to land, SBS."
He and Forbes now flew level with the flight deck, bound for the
translucent energy field and the flight hangar beyond. He tossed a look to
Forbes. Bad idea. The sight of her bobbing Rapier turned his blood icy. He
checked their speed and approach vector. "We're coming in too hot."
"Sorry, but my brakes are in the shop."
"Line it up," he said, unable to smile, his gaze riveted on her fighter.
"That's it."
"Piece of cake. Just like before."
"Except that you're right-side up." Now he managed a fleeting grin.
"I knew something was wrong."
Through his HUD viewer, Maniac watched the deck rush toward them.
"Almost there."
Her wingtip tapped a wall abutting the deck, but she wrestled the
fighter straight as tiny groans escaped her lips.
"Okay. Easy. Just ease it in," he said. "Thirty meters."
"I… I love it when you… talk dirty." She could barely speak through her
exertion. Her fighter lost power and fell behind his.
"Ten meters," he said as his own landing skids lowered and he glided
over the flight deck, the energy curtain widening to fill his display. "Just
five…" He trailed off as he realized her approach had gone awry. "Pull up!
Pull up!"
But she didn't. She couldn't. Her port wing got caught on the flight
deck's lip, and she started to flip over as the wing tore off and
boomeranged away. The Rapier struck the deck with a gut-wrenching
thunderclap, crushing her canopy. Shards of Plexi floated away as the
fighter scraped along the runway, then spun out to a halt, snapping off the
remaining engine, which rolled ahead of it.
Maniac frantically guided his Rapier through the energy field, then
released his canopy before even landing. He could care less where he put
down the fighter and wound up narrowly missing a wall of storage
containers dead ahead because his hands weren't on the steering yoke;
they were on his harness, throwing off buckles. He climbed onto the
Rapier's wing, then leapt off, bolting toward the hangar entrance, toward
Rosie.
Someone familiar shouted his name. Shouted again. Loud footsteps.
Then someone collided with him, arms wrapping around his chest, forcing
him to the deck. He fell forward, bracing his fall, not bothering to look up
at his assailant, his gaze consumed by the wreckage just behind the force
field.
"She's outside the airlock!" Blair screamed. "You go through the force
field and you're Jell-O."
Maniac sprang to his feet. "Get me a suit! Get me a suit!" He started for
the field as Blair seized his collar, holding him just a meter away. With the
energy curtain so close that he could hear its hum, Maniac shivered as he
realized that were it not for Blair, his panic would have driven him
through it. He winced, staring at the twisted Rapier, then hollered, "Rosie!
Rosie!" He could see her helmet, partially obscured by the shattered
canopy. She did not move.
Sharp-angled shadows began wiping over the wreckage, cast by the
half-dozen Rapiers circling overhead, waiting to land.
"Forbes? Rosie?" Deveraux called, her voice piped through the deck
wide intercom. "Can you hear me? Rosie? Answer. Just key your mike, if
you can. Come on, girl. Just one little click."
Maniac looked to the overhead speakers, waiting, waiting.
"I've got approximately ninety seconds of fuel left, Commander,"
Hunter said.
"Ditto for me," Polanski added.
"Rosie?" Deveraux's voice echoed hollowly through the hangar. Still no
response. "Baker Leader to Flight Control. Clear that wreckage."
A sudden tightness gripped Maniac's throat, and he found it hard to
breathe. "What?"
The roar of an engine startled him. He turned back to see a huge yellow
deckdozer with a wide blade affixed to its nose come rumbling toward
them. Its operator, seated behind a polarized windshield, blew a horn, and
they dodged out of its way.
Maniac ran across the deck and looked up to the Flight Control
windows. "Hey! What are you doing? Hey!" He spotted the grim-faced
Raznick and began waving his arms. "Hey! You can't do this! You can't do
this. Please! Stop! She's alive!"
The deckdozer neared the energy curtain and lowered its blade. Maniac
abandoned his pleas and sprinted after the truck, determined to rip its
driver from the cab. He came up hard on the driver's side, launched
himself toward the cab door—
But Blair tackled him from behind, and they both rolled to the deck as
the dozer disappeared with a ripple of energy.
Blair pinned Maniac and shouted, "There's nothing you can do."
"Get off of me, you Pilgrim son of a bitch!" Maniac struck a roundhouse
to Blair's mouth. As Blair reached for the wound, he broke his grip, and
Maniac squirmed away, heading back to the curtain.
"Are you going to kill yourself, too?" Blair asked, then dove for Maniac's
legs, bringing him down.
Unable to break Blair's hold, Maniac lay there, panting and horrified as
the deckdozer plowed Rosie's starfighter to the edge of the runway. The
vehicle slowed, inching Rosie toward oblivion. Finally, the Rapier tipped
over the side and tumbled slowly away, into space.
Maniac lowered his head, eyes tightly closed. His insides turned to
vacuum.
"Baker Leader to Flight Control," Deveraux called solemnly. "Request
permission to land."
Still in a haze of disbelief, Maniac sat on the deck, back to a bulkhead,
legs pulled into his chest. He watched the Rapiers land, and with each
touchdown, he thought he saw Rosie flashing him a thumbs-up.
He studied the others, hoping he would spot her just behind them.
Polanski climbed out of his cockpit. Hunter tore off his helmet and
brushed the sweat from his forehead. Taggart sat on the nose of his
Broadsword's ejection pod, a medic attending to his forehead. Deveraux
trudged down her cockpit ladder and turned back to face everyone.
"Come on," Blair said, kicking his boot. Maniac's friend had not left his
side.
"What's there to debrief?" Maniac asked. "We went out, and two good
pilots got killed. Not that these people know how to grieve." Then he
tensed, stood, and joined Blair.
He would make them remember Rosie. Even if it killed him.
"Lieutenant Marshall," Deveraux began. And she could stop there.
Maniac knew where this was going. "You disobeyed a direct order to
return to base."
"I was—"
"Which, during wartime, is considered treason and punishable by
death. Hunter? Give me your sidearm."
Hunter exchanged a worried glance with Polanski as he withdrew his
pistol.
Blair took a step toward them. "Hunter, put the gun away."
"She's the CO, nugget."
After a nod, Blair lunged toward Hunter, but Polanski intervened, driving his shoulder into Blair's chest. Much larger than Blair, Polanski had little trouble sliding behind his opponent. He locked Blair's arms to his sides.
Deveraux accepted the gun and raised it to Maniac's head.
Part of Maniac wanted to shout "Do it!" but another part believed she
would.
"What's with you?" Blair cried. "It was a stupid accident. He has to live
with it."
"Or maybe I don't," Maniac said with a solid note of resignation. He
stared into the cold wasteland of Deveraux's eyes. Rosie had been her
friend, too. How could she remove herself so thoroughly from what had
just happened? His gaze drifted to the gun's shaking muzzle.
"If you endanger another pilot, I will kill you." She lowered the gun,
turned abruptly to Hunter, and handed it to him. Then she strode away.
Polanski and Hunter turned their viperous stares on Maniac.
He cursed them and jogged off.