Wing Commander in Real Time - Day 3 - 1245 Zulu

Script

255 INT. TIGER CLAW - BRIDGE

A loud klaxon goes off.

GERALD

Report!

OBUTU

I have a bogie, vector 197 mark

3....Now it's gone.

PALADIN

It's a Skipper missile. We only pick

it up when it de-cloaks to take a radar

fix. Estimated time till impact?

RADAR MAN

Nine minutes, sir.

256 INT. RAPIER COCKPITS - BLAIR & DEVERAUX

The two pilots streak into the blackness of space.

BLAIR

I've got a strong signal, at ten

o'clock. Now it's vanished.

DEVERAUX

It's a skipper missile. Shit. The only

thing that can kill it is a star

fighter in visual contact.

And with that Deveraux banks hard right.

BLAIR

Hey, what are you doing?

DEVERAUX

Stay on course. Get through that jump

point!

BLAIR

What about our orders? Angel? Angel?

257 INT. TIGER CLAW - BRIDGE

RADAR MAN

Six minutes...

OBUTU

Our shields are too weak to take a

direct hit.

PALADIN

It's in Blair and Deveraux's hands now.

258 EXT. SPACE - SKIPPER MISSILE

The Skipper missile "cloaks" in, re-adjusts it’s course

one more time and then disappears... A moment later,

Deveraux's Rapier appears, afterburners kicking in, and

streaking after the now invisible missile.

259 INT. RAPIER COCKPIT - DEVERAUX

Her HEADS UP DISPLAY shows nothing.

DEVERAUX

(mutters)

Come on...

260 THROUGH COCKPIT PLEXIGLASS

The Skipper missile de-cloaks and reappears, slightly off

to her right. She veers, FIRING HER LASER CANNONS.

The Skipper once again "CLOAKS" AND VANISHES, but Deveraux

continues to lead it, FIRING ALONG ITS TRAJECTORY.

BLAIR (O.S.)

Angel! You're too close! Back off!

Suddenly, there is a FLASH OF FIRE, and the Skipper de-

cloaks and reappears, SPINNING LIKE A CORKSCREW, BREAKING

UP. Deveraux banks hard and veers away.

261 EXT. SPACE - SKIPPER MISSILE

Moments later, the Skipper missile EXPLODES, throwing an

eerie, visible shock wave that CATCHES DEVERAUX'S RAPIER.

262 INT. RAPIER COCKPIT - DEVERAUX

The Rapier begins coming apart. Deveraux EJECTS!

263 EXT. SPACE - BLAIR's RAPIER

...slowly approaches the debris of the destroyed Rapier,

and FIRES RETRO JETS, as it pulls alongside the tumbling

ejection pod. Retros fire on the pod, stabilizing it.

Blair's cockpit is only yards from Deveraux in the pod.

They look at each other across the void.

BLAIR

You okay?

DEVERAUX

Nothing broken.

264 INT. RAPIER COCKPIT - BLAIR

He looks out over the empty space between them and the

tiny point of light that is the Tiger Claw.

BLAIR

You got it.

265 INTERCUT BETWEEN BLAIR AND DEVERAUX'S COCKPITS.

She shakes her head.

DEVERAUX

It got me.

BLAIR

Hang on. I'm going to tractor you back

to the ship.

DEVERAUX

No! Go on. We can't both disobey

orders.

BLAIR

You'll be out of air in an hour. You're

going back to the ship.

DEVERAUX

You disobey my direct order and I'll

have you court-martialed.

BLAIR

Like I care.

DEVERAUX

Then care about the billions who are

going to die if the fleet doesn't get

the Kilrathi jump coordinates.

Blair falls silent. She knows she's won. Their faces are

only feet apart, separated by the cockpits.

DEVERAUX

You've gotta go. You know that.

BLAIR

(choking with emotion)

You're all right, Angel. I guess you

know that...

She smiles ruefully, then pulls her glove off and puts a

hand on the Plexiglass.

DEVERAUX

You, too, Chris.

There is a last moment... then Blair fires his retros and

eases slowly away from her as she watches. A last look,

and Blair ignites his engines. The Rapier streaks away.

The back wash rocks Deveraux's pod. She's already cold,

and begins to shiver.

266 INT. TIGER CLAW - BRIDGE

The Radar Man looks up from his scope.

RADAR MAN

No sign of the Skipper missile. One of

the Rapiers must have shot it down.

PALADIN

Where are they now?

RADAR MAN

One continuing on course... and one

beacon signal from an ejection pod....

(sees something)

Kilrathi ships are closing.

GERALD

So what now?

PALADIN

What now, Mister Gerald? Now we make

the Kilrathi on those ships sorry they

were ever born!

(roars)

Battle stations!

The klaxons sound, and people jump to their stations on

the bridge.

267 INT. RAPIER COCKPIT - BLAIR

Blair eases around a large asteroid.

Through the canopy, he can just see the Kilrathi cruiser

and a destroyer moving slowly through the asteroid field.

When they pass, he ignites his engines, and blasts away,

weaving around asteroids as he goes.

SC. 268 OMIT

269 INT. TIGER CLAW - FLIGHT DECK

Maniac sits in his Rapier, salutes the deck control

officer, and blasts into space.

270 INT. TIGER CLAW - BRIDGE

GERALD

All fighters away.

RADAR MAN

Kilrathi cruiser and destroyer are in

missile range. They're launching.

PALADIN

Open fire, Mister Gerald.

GERALD

Aye, aye, sir.

(into intercom)

All batteries, fire as she bears!

They watch as missiles flair out into space.

271 INT. EJECTION POD - DEVERAUX

The reflection of the great battle flashes on the

Plexiglass as Deveraux watches.

REVERRSE ANGLE: The great ships are like tiny toys, t he

fighters specks of light as they corkscrew and plunge.

The blackness is illuminated with lasers and torpedoes

exploding against the shields. The Kilrathi destroyer

TAKES A TORPEDO IN ITS STERN, catches fire, begins to

drift.

DEVERAUX shivers in the cold, her breath condensing on

the Plexiglass. She wipes the mist away, breathing with

difficulty, and continues to watch.

SC. 272 - 273 OMIT

274 INT. RAPIER COCKPIT - BLAIR

Blair is watching his heads up display intently. Behind

it, is the swirling, angry mass of the Charybdis Quasar.

BLAIR

Merlin, check my coordinates.

MERLIN

(voice only)

Coordinates A-okay, boss. Three minutes to jump.

BLAIR

Firing jump drive.

He flicks a switch. There is an enormous six g jolt.

275 EXT. BLAIR's RAPIER

The fighter transforms into a streak of light.

276 EXT. TIGER CLAW & KILRATHI CRUISER

The two ships are in close proximity, now, firing weapons,

trying to batter down each others shields.

277 INT. TIGER CLAW - BRIDGE

The Kilrathi cruiser is clearly visible coming head on.

GERALD

What tac, sir?

PALADIN

Steady on, Mister Gerald. Make them be

the first to blink.

Through the bridge windows, The Kilrathi cruiser appears

larger and larger.

SC. 278 OMIT

279 INT. RAPIER COCKPIT - BLAIR

The Rapier begins to shimmy and shake.

MERLIN

(voice only)

Ninety seconds to Jump point. But

you're drifting off course.

BLAIR</span

The quasar's gravity is affecting you.

Shut up, or I'll shut you off.

The Rapier begins to shake like it's going to come apart.

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Novelization

CHAPTER 28

UNITED CONFEDERATION CARRIER TIGER CLAW

ULYSSES CORRIDOR

MARCH 17, 2654 1245 HOURS ZULU TIME

15 MINUTES FROM CHARYBOIS QUASAR JUMP POINT

"Report," Gerald yelled as a klaxon reverberated through the

bridge.

"I have a bogie, vector one-nine-seven mark three," Mr.

Obutu said, "approaching at a velocity of… now it's gone.

Attempting to reestablish contact, sir." Taggart studied Obutu's

display, played back a recording of the contact, then breathed a

curse. He moved to Mr. Falk's primary radar screen and

squinted at the glowing numbers.

"You have something, Commodore?" Gerald asked. "It's a

Skipper missile. Must be a prototype. We only pick it up when it

decloaks to take a radar fix."

"That technology is years away from the Kilrathi—or at least

Intelligence said so." Gerald fixed the commodore with a sharp

look. "That's your department, Mr. Taggart. Do you have any

intelligence on how to stop it?"

The commodore appeared at a loss, then quickly snapped

toward Falk. "Estimated time until impact?"

Falk plugged the coordinates into his terminal, then waited

for the results on his big screen. "Nine minutes, sir."

* * *

Blair peered at his radar scope. The contact had spirited

itself away. Time to break radio silence. "I had a strong signal at

ten o'clock, headed toward the Tiger Claw. Now it's vanished."

"Accessing intelligence database," Deveraux said. "Give me a

sec. All right. Here we go. Contact is a Skipper missile. Shit."

"Can the Claw take it out?"

"The only thing that can kill it is a starfighter in visual

contact." With that she banked hard right, breaking from his

wing and climbing above the asteroid field.

"Hey, what are you doing?"

"Stay on course. Get through that jump point."

"What about our orders?"

"You mean the one I just gave you?"

"But you're flying my wing."

"I was."

"Angel? Angel? Don't do this."

* * *

On the Tiger Claw's bridge, Gerald felt his pulse surge as he

faced Mr. Falk. "ETA on missile?"

"Six minutes, five seconds, four, three, two, one, mark. It

should decloak in a minute or so."

Mr. Obutu spoke quietly into his headset, his expression

holding little promise. "Sir, our shields are too weak to take a

direct hit, DCCs are doing everything they can, but they can't

restore full shield power without being spacedocked."

"Countermeasures?"

"Decoys remain down, but the standard array is back on line.

Won't matter much. That missile has a smart recognition

system against anything we throw at it."

Gerald nodded, then found Taggart's vacant gaze.

"Commodore, isn't there anything we can do?"

The man slumped in his chair. "It's in Blair's and Deveraux's

hands now."

* * *

Blair jolted as the blip reappeared on his display. "It's back,

Angel. Check your scope."

"I got jack," she said. "Come on… wait… got it!"

Deveraux's fighter, now a blue blip on his screen, chased after

the red blip. "It's off to your starboard, bearing two-two-four by

one-three-one."

She followed his coordinates, winding toward the contact.

"I'm coming back to assist."

"Negative."

He lit the burners and slammed the steering yoke right,

riding the tube of an invisible breaker. Her thrusters gleamed

ahead, and she fired lasers at the missile even as it cloaked. She

continued to lead the Skipper, directing her bolts along its

trajectory, shrinking the gap.

"Angel. You're too close," Blair said. "Back off."

A sudden and harrowing inferno erupted ahead of her

Rapier. The Skipper materialized and corkscrewed through

space, shedding jagged hunks of red-hot plastisteel.

"Target destroyed," she reported tersely, then scaled a trail

of vapor to evade.

But her report had been premature. The Skipper exploded

with a burst like an antique flashbulb. The light gave way to a

visible shock wave, concentric circles of force ripping through

space and sweeping up Deveraux's Rapier as though it were a

paper airplane in a typhoon.

Her scream shocked Blair. "Angel! Angel!"

The Rapier's wings tore off as it barrel-rolled through the

wave. A faint burst of light came from her canopy as she ejected.

Tumbling like the Rapier, the escape pod rode the crest of the

wave, then suddenly broke free as retros slowed its progress.

Blair held fast to the stick as the remnants of the explosion

buffeted his fighter. He turned ninety degrees and flew parallel

to the wave, nearing the pod and the meandering line of

wreckage floating beside it. The pod's retros fired again, rolling

it inverted relative to him. He flew under Deveraux, then slid

up so that his cockpit stood within a meter of hers. "You okay?"

"Nothing broken," she said, staring down at him through the

Plexi.

He glanced back to the Skipper missile's widespread debris

and the speck beyond: the Tiger Claw. "You got it."

She shook her head. "It got me."

Blair regarded a panel at his elbow. He touched a button,

bringing the system online. "Hang on. I'm going to tractor you

back to the ship."

"No. Go on. We can't both disobey orders."

"I'm not leaving you here, Commander. You'll be out of air in

an hour."

"An hour and four minutes."

"You're going back to the ship."

She raised a gloved finger. "You disobey my direct order, and

I'll have you court-martialed."

"Like I care."

"Then care about the billions who will die if the fleet doesn't

get those Kilrathi jump coordinates. You've been around long

enough to know that in this war, some of us get a shitty deal.

That's the way it is."

"It doesn't have to be."

"Fight in the war Blair—not against it. Go now. You have to.

You know that."

Yes, he did. And choked by the thought, he punched the

canopy. "You're all right, Angel."

She unclipped her mask and smiled ruefully, then pulled off

her glove and placed her hand on the Plexi. "You too, Chris."

He could barely look at her as he touched his thruster control,

sliding away from the pod, his wash gently rocking it.

That soft face. That hand pressed on the glass. Like Taggart,

he would remember across the distance.

* * *

Gerald swiveled his command chair toward the radar station.

"Repeat?"

Falk gazed at his screen in wonder. "I said there's no sign of

the Skipper missile, sir. One of the Rapiers must've shot it

down."

"Where are they now?" Taggart asked, staring pensively

through the viewport.

"One continuing on course, and one… picking up an auto

beacon from an ejection pod." Falk jerked his head toward

another quadrant on his display. "Got two Kilrathi ships at

extreme range."

"Yes, that's about right," Taggart thought aloud. "Knowing

our condition they would only send two, keeping the rest for an

ambush at the jump point."

Rising, Gerald joined the commodore at the viewport. "So

what now? We have just a half-dozen operational fighters and

can barely maneuver."

The commodore faced him with a renewed zeal in his eyes.

"What now, Mr. Gerald? Now we make the Kilrathi on those

ships sorry they were ever born." He regarded the bridge crew

and roared, "Battle stations!"

Obutu punched a bank of controls. Alarms echoed along with

automated warnings.

Gerald scrambled to his chair. "All right, ladies and

gentleman," he barked over the shipwide comm. "Prepare to

kick some ass!"

* * *

"Hello," Blair said, staring off to starboard. A Kilrathi cruiser

and destroyer glided away from him as he held his position

inside the shadowy crevice of an asteroid. He checked their

course, saw they were headed for the Tiger Claw, and could do

little more than hope that the ship's scanners had already

detected them. Hearing the mental tick of the clock, he sped off,

threading his way through the rocks, occasionally glimpsing the

quasar's spectral arms.

* * *

Maniac sat in his Rapier with his eyes closed, listening to the

drone of his breath. He hoped the launch order would come

before he turned gray, lost his sex drive, and had to wear a

truss.

Hunter had already fallen asleep and had accidentally left his

comm open. The sound of his snoring seemed amusing at first,

but the humor was short-lived. Polanski had shouted for the

pilot to wake up, but old Hunter sat in mid-dream, tooting his

horn at the sights and sounds of his subconscious. Even the

flight boss could not wake him.

Finally, the penetrating buzz of the launch alarm jolted

Maniac out of his doze. "Man, another two minutes and I

would've been out."

"Hear that," Polanski said. "Hey, Hunter? You with us?"

"In spirit," he groaned.

"Don't worry about him," Polanski assured Maniac. "Now

that he's pissed over losing his beauty sleep, he'll whack a

couple extra cats for us."

"I'm not sure there'll be any left for you guys by the time I'm

done."

"Listen to this guy."

"Mister, you fly straight and true. You do what I tell you,"

Hunter warned.

"Yes, sir," Maniac said. "When we get back, stogies on me."

Hunter snickered. "You'll have to go Cuban if you want to

impress us, Mr. Marshall."

"Cuban? All right. I'm there."

"Good. You're up."

Following the deckmaster's signals, Maniac positioned his

Rapier for launch. He saluted, yawned into his mask, then the

thundering turbines rocked him fully awake.

* * *

"All fighters away," Gerald told the commodore. The thought

of going head-to-head with two Kilrathi cap ships brought on

the gooseflesh and the cotton mouth, but Gerald wouldn't call

them reactions to fear; they were simply reactions to respect for

the enemy—an enemy who was about to die.

"Kilrathi cruiser and destroyer are in missile range," Falk

said anxiously. "They're launching."

Taggart's eyes widened. "Open fire, Mr. Gerald."

"Aye-aye, sir." He switched on the shipwide comm. "All

batteries, fire as she bears."

"Mr. Obutu?" Taggart said. "Report charge status."

"Batteries operating at forty percent and falling fast, sir.

Those Kilrathi fuel cells don't hold a charge as well as ours."

"But our gunners know that. They'll make every shot count."

"That they will, sir."

Gerald suppressed his reaction as dozens of Kilrathi missiles

flared and locked on.

Deveraux had powered down all but the most vital systems in

the ejection pod—especially its auto beacon that would betray

her location. She shivered as the pod grew colder than a Belgian

winter. Out to port, missiles streaked across the blackness,

creating rainbows of vapor. She strained for a better look, but

her breath condensed on the Plexi. She wiped it away and took a

tiny, rationed breath.

The end, she figured, wouldn't be all that painful. The cold

would turn her numb, and perhaps she would experience that

warm feeling she had heard about. She would eventually pass

out from the lack of oxygen, but even then there would be no

genuine suffering.

No, it wouldn't hurt much… physically. But the

contemplation of dying tore up her soul. A thousand desires, a

thousand regrets—and no power to act on them.

She took herself back to the fragmented memories of her

parents, saw the images of her holo, then put herself back into

the moment as a first-person participant, her senses fully alive.

Her father, very tall, eyes very dark, lifted her into the air. Her

head fit perfectly on his shoulder, and he smelled like the North

Sea. Her mother came to them, stroked her hair, and sang to

her about the cool green Ardennes, about picnicking under oak

and beech trees, about the eternity of her love.

* * *

Blair reached the periphery of the asteroid field, then flipped

over his HUD viewer. All right, all right, he thought, trying to

calm himself as he took in Charybdis's kaleidoscopic fury. Her

reds seemed like blood, her blues like veins. He maxed out the

throttle and leaned over to power up the jump drive computer.

A pair of screens showed multiple glide paths through the

quasar, all of them wrong. Or at least they felt so. "Merlin?

Check my coordinates."

The hologram directed his voice into the Rapier's comm.

"Coordinates a-okay, boss. Three minutes to jump."

"Firing jump drive." He touched the switch—

And an enormous six-G jolt struck the Rapier as the drive

drop-kicked him forward. His lips flapped, and his cheeks

flirted with his ears.

The quasar smeared into a striped tunnel, and thousands of

ghostly claws tugged on the fighter. An atonal chorus of

moaning fuselage and wings resounded over the beeping of

instrumentation. The stick felt as though it were melting in his

glove.

He no longer flew the Rapier; it flew him.

* * *

The Kilrathi cruiser lumbered into visual range, and Gerald

shook his head at her menacing form as she came head-on.

"What tack, sir?"

"Steady on, Mr. Gerald," Taggart said. "Make them the first to

blink."

"Aye, sir. Steady on."

"Report from our fighters?"

"Hunter's wing has already engaged, sir," Obutu told Taggart.

"But they're outnumbered about ten to one."

* * *

Blair's Rapier shimmied, and the jump drive made a noise

akin to a mortally wounded animal. His breath came in rapid

bursts as the thousands of singularities continued vying for the

ship.

"Ninety seconds to jump point," Merlin said. "But you're

drifting off course."

"The quasar's gravity is affecting you."

"Running diagnostic. All systems nominal. Christopher, you

must change course. Patching new coordinates into the nav

computer."

"Negative. Shut up, or I'll shut you off."

"So you've finally decided to kill yourself?"

"Merlin…"

The little man wisely fell silent. Blair skimmed the jump

drive screens, then shut his eyes.

Mother, you don't want me to come here. But this time I have

to. I hope you'll understand. I hope you won't try to stop me.

"Warning. Jump drive system reaching point five light speed,

PNR velocity for this system," the ship's computer said. "Do you

wish to continue?"

"Affirmative."

"PNR velocity achieved. System lock activated. Pilot, you are

committed to the jump."