Wing Commander in Real Time - Day 3 - 1245 Zulu

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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.

Storyboards

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."