Wing Commander in Real Time - Day 3 - 0700 Zulu

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.