Characters:
Commanding Officer, Skyblaze
First Officer, Vaporous
Communications officer, Blindside
Technical Officer, Payne
Executive Officer, Tigeroonie
56^th Squadron Leader, Willy
17^th Squadron Leader, Iceman
pilot, Tekman
pilot, Mr. C.
pilot, Isard
pilot, maniac
pilot, Klepto
pilot, admiral3:16

Prologue:
"SchulGnoth schwea cultol-chok lgon, dingow sinco pah." the deep baritone voice came over the speaker. A moment later the translator computer spoke up in its monotone male voice.

"Data transfer complete, Legion. Will there be anything else?"

Commanding officer Skyblaze adjusted some controls to the translator, and then spoke out. "I am showing that we have received all files. No, GVD-Osirus. That will be all. Thank you."

"We will engage our jump drives as soon as all ships are securely docked." This time the translator played almost simultaneously as the alien spoke.

"Before we depart I request to speak with the Vasudan fighter Pilot."

"Im sorry, Osirus. All delta wing pilots are currently undergoing training simulations", the captain said. "May I relay a message for you?"

"Yes." The Vasudan commander on screen hesitated for a moment, as if searching for the right words. Captain Skyblaze had never seen a Vasudan do that before.

"Tell him...that he is always welcome to serve with us again."

Captain Skyblaze and the Vasudan exchanged a moment of silence.

"Ill do that. GTD Legion out."

The holographic display showing the Vasudans face disappeared from existence, replacing it was a report on the status on the upgrades of the forward beam batteries. The captain leaned back in this plush synth-leather chair in a moment of thought.< /P>

"Commander Vaporous, are you aware of any promotion offers to Ensign Klepto?" Skyblaze disliked calling pilots by their call signs, but Vasudan names were hard to pronounce in the Terran language.

Vaporous tapped pulled up records form a nearby station. "Checking now, sir. No nothing of the sort."

"Commander, have you ever wondered why a Vasudan would transfer to a ship of all Terrans?"

"No, sir. I assumed he was part of the officer exchange program." Vaporous could tell something was bothering the Captain. His eyes were looking through him but not at him. No answer came from Captain Skyblaze, so Vaporous prompted him with a "Sir?"

"No. Actually he requested transfer to a ship of all Terrans. Dont you find that odd?"

"Maybe hes running away from something?"

"If there were charges filed against him, we would know."

Seeing the Commander was not going to respond again he asked,"shall I have flight leader Willy speak with him, Sir?"

"No, Ill do it myself." Captain Skyblaze pushed away his terminal and stood up.

"Excuse me, sir", Vaporous interrupted, "but we do have counselors"

"I know that, Vaporous." Captain Skyblaze stepped into the lift. "You have the bridge until I return, Commander."

* * * * *

Deep in space the stars were very bright, each one almost too bright to gaze at it directly. One particular star was hidden within the reaches of a nebula with swirling red-and orange colors. The star was close to the end of its life cycle. Within a few decades the medium yellow star will die and nova into a red giant. And at the end of the reg giants life cycle it will most likely transform into something else. Death always brings about rebirth.

A small one-man fighter craft sped into the fringes of the nebula and was quickly lost in its brilliant colors. Following soon after, another identical craft flew toward the nebula but stopped just before entering. It hovered near the edge as if s canning for signs of its prey. The pilot of the craft saw a shimmer and trail of light but could not react quickly enough. Two dumb-fire missiles and a flurry of pink lights detonated against the shields and they shimmered briefly with a opaque white lig ht.

The ship began to turn away from the nebula fringe but two more missiles sped out from hiding and crashed through the viewing glass of the cockpit. There was a brief explosion as the oxygen in the cockpit was consumed. It was enough to tear the shi p into three pieces.

Another ship dared the mystery nebula fighter with afterburners on full. There were many small flashes of pink and white light and the original ship exited the nebula fringe alone, moments ahead of a brilliant brief fireball.

Many other fighters noticed the loss of those two fighters but were too busy with their own engagements. Some ships were shaped like wide insects with brown and green colored carapaces. Vasudan in design, they were fast and agile. Other fighters we re Terran in design, slower and not as maneuverable, but with heavier and deadlier weapons.

The two factions swirled around each other in tight spins and circles. Both sides firing at each other in wild abandon not caring who they destroyed, only caring that they were the last fighter remaining.

One Vasudan craft headed into a straight dive firing with full energy banks and missiles firing, the pilot not bothering to wait for a lock. The Terran ship spun around and met its Vasudan attacker head-on. As the two craft sped toward each other, they exchanged their weapons into each others forward shield arrays, neither one caring about the damage received. The Terran craft proved to be tougher, it caught the Vasudan craft along it starboard side with a projectile that spun the craft around, re vealing its vulnerable underbelly. The Terran craft never ceased its firing, ripping open the hull of the Vasudan craft and detonating the engine. The Terran craft sped away and had a new target locked before the Vasudan craft was finished exploding.

Seconds later a new Vasudan craft exited a sub-space portal and targeted the Terran craft that had killed its brother moments before. The Terran pilot was too intent on its new target to notice the swarm missiles closing in. Its shields were low from the previous engagement. The pilot never even knew what happened.

The craft that was hidden in the nebula watched the fury of the dogfight from a distance killing two more from a distance with patient missile locks before it even reached energy weapon distance.

The dogfight continued on with alliances being formed to kill a common foe, only to be broken a moment later when one was caught unaware. No mercy was shown. No quarter given. No sides were clear. Vasudans fired upon Vasudans. Terrans fired on Terr ans. All sane thought was lost in the madness of war...

* * * * *

In a large room deep inside the GTD-Legion were eight large pod-like devices arranged in a semi circle that would lean side to side and occasionally jerk and rumble. Shouting and loud curses came from the pods as the pilots withing would shout in t riumph after a kill or scream in frustration after a death.

An officer wandered between the pods occasionally glancing up and the scoreboard and watching a large screen that showed the action the pilots were experiencing inside the pods. The pins on the collar of his uniform showed him to hold the rank of L ieutenant. He would tap holographic controls changing the view from one ship to another and chuckle when an spectacular death occurred.

There was a whine of hydro servos and the door to the chamber opened. The lieutenant looked up at the newcomer and immediately snapped to attention, his frame becoming rigid, left arm straight to his side. His right arm snapped up a salute.

Captain Skyblaze waved a dismissive hand, "As you were, Lieutenant Willy."

Willy relaxed into normal posture but still kept his gut sucked in a little. "Sir. I wasnt expecting you, sir. What can I do for you?"

"I came to see the new squadron in action", the captain gazed up to the view screen. It was currently in chase view of a Hercules Mark II fighter as it twisted and sped through space.

"How are they doing?", he asked without looking away from the screen.

"Well, they certainly have a fighting spirit. Theyve been going at it for about thirty minutes now." Lieutenant Willy grimaced a little when a pilot shouted out a curse of frustration.

The captain chuckled. "So I see. Are they working together?"

"Well. I took them through the standard gauntlet simulation. They practically ran each other over get to the kill first. You know: ramming each other, flying into line of fire. Even had a friendly kill." The Lieutenant sighed. "Stand ard over eager ensigns. After a while they got into a bragging match and they insisted on a furball. Its been like this ever since."

"Well, theyll learn to trust each other and work as a team as time passes", Skyblaze smiled. "Let them have their fun. A little competition keeps them improving."

They watched the furball go on for a few seconds before the captions curiosity got the better of him. "So, whos winning?"

Willy punched some controls and a scoreboard lit up listing each pilot and the number of kills. One particular pilot stood out among the rest.

"Dchwo-we Mot," the lieutenant said with great difficulty.

"The Vasudan?" The captain sounded surprised.

"Yes, sir. And look at this." Lieutenant Willy pressed a few more controls and the screen showed a ship in the middle of trying to shake a fighter that was scoring a few hits on its rear shield and even fewer onto the delicate hull.

"Hes flying a Terran craft", Willy concluded. "I always thought Vasudans preferred their own craft. Like they were better than ours or something. But he handles it like hes always flown in one."

The two of them admired the skeptical for many seconds. The ship was flying erratically, one moment dipping down then next swinging upwards as if trying to shake an insect off its body. It missed several opportunities to hit the craft it was chasi ng.

"Well, maybe hes not as good as I thought", Willy said.

"Switch to cockpit view", the Captain ordered.

Willy pressed a key and the view switched to what the pilot was seeing. Only where the head up display was supposed to be, only fuzzy violet lines were showing with space beyond. It was as if the signal was weak, not showing everything.

"He has no navigation or targeting control!", the captain shouted.

Lieutenant looked just as shocked. The view showed glimpses of another ship that the Vasudan was attempting to destroy. He must have been pulling hard on his controls because stars formed lines across the view screen. The view suddenly shifted and the stars moved the other way as the Vasudan attempted a unexpected maneuver and dived backwards in a loop until it caught the preys underbelly. The ship exploded briefly but another ship flew into view and the Vasudan began shooting at it as well.

Willy managed to gaze away to get another surprise. "Sir! Hes had 4 kills now without any targeting computers! And still leading in kills!"

One of the pod lids opened and a Terran pilot stuck his head out.

"Excuse me, sir. But I think I have a problem." The pilot was waiving his flight stick above his head. It had snapped off during the battle.

"Again?" Willy complained. "All right. Come on out of there, Isard."

On the screen Isards ship hung helplessly in space. One pilot saw it floating helpless and put it out of its misery, scoring an easy kill.

Isard saw the captain and stumbled out the anti-gravity well of the simulation pod.

"Sir!", he shouted pulling a clumsy salute.

"Carry on, pilot." The captain returned the salute informally.

Isard swung his legs our the pod and lifted his body out of the pod. In the simulation his craft had respawned and someone destroyed it again.

"One hell of a fight, sir! But who the hell kept blowing me away?" Isards face was still flush from returning to gravity and the exhilaration from the fight.

"The Vasudan", Willy stated.

"Klepto?", Isard asked incredulously.

"Yes. Were looking at him now."

Someone was lucky enough to destroy the Vasudan pilot, Klepto, and he re-appeared three clicks form the main battle. Klepto shut down his engines and began firing missile after missiles at random targets. One by one they were destroyed. All the whi le he was a safe distance away.

"Dammit! Im out of respawns!" Another pilot, Tekman, exited his craft and gazed up at the scoreboard.

Tekman began kicking his pod in anger and a stream of expletives exited his mouth.

"Ensign! Stop that!" Lieutenant Willy quickly disciplined the pilot. "That thing costs more that a real ship."

Tekman stopped kicking the pod and clenched his fists instead and continued swearing.

"Holy cow, look at him go!" Blindside continued watching the display screen as Klepto continued his killing frenzy until the time ran out and all remaining ships automatically engaged their pretend subspace drives and exited the arena. Li ghts inside the pods shut off and lids opened simultaneously. The pilots exited their pods and began comparing scores with each other, bragging about or insulting each others performance.

The last pilot to emerge from his pod was Vasudan. He stood up straight almost seven feet tall and stretched his limbs, eager to be free from the confining Terran sized cockpit. He looked around, puzzled by the different reactions of the Terrans. S ome shared stories of skillful kills, others berating themselves for poor performance. None of them was actually studying their own performance for future reference. He had recorded his flight for later review so that he might later watch it and learn fro m mistakes.

Eventually they began asking each other who had killed them at certain times and one by one they looked at the final score to be surprised by the pilots with the highest number of kills. Klepto and a Terran pilot nicknamed admiral. Both had tied for the lead with 24 kills each. Admiral looked at his equal smugly. Klepto seemed uninterested, rubbing the brown-gray skin of his legs.

"Atten-tion!" Captain Skyblaze barked out.

The pilots quickly lined up in rigid formation placing steely gazes at empty space in front of them. Klepto stood out from the rest with is height and different flight suit.

"At ease, pilots." The pilots took a step with their right legs sideways and place their hand behind their backs, keeping a firm gaze forward.

"Gentlemen. Good work. You all performed well, but Id like to give a special award to one pilot that had the most kills."

Captain Skyblaze walked in front the line of pilots reaching into his trouser pocket and retrieved a small pin shaped like a many pointed star. Admiral proudly stiffened up in expectation of the award, but the captain continued past him and stopped in front of the Vasudan pilot nicknamed Klepto.

"Pilot. You proved to be the most skilled in this simulation. So I am awarding you with the title of squadron ace."

The captain pinned the star to the breast of Kleptos flight suit then performed a salute. Klepto returned it perfectly

"Congratulations, pilot." The captain extended his hand and Klepto firmly accepted the handshake.

"Kimpul magdrabol sulcuth"

The translator chimed out, "Thank you, Sir"

"Sir! Excuse me, sir!" Admiral called out from his place in the line.

The captain looked over to find this brash pilot and stepped in front of him.

"Yes, pilot?", he asked.

"Sir! I had just as many kills as the Vasudan. And Ive been with the squadron longer. Shouldnt I receive the award, sir?"

"Are you sure about that, Ensign?", the captain asked. The annoyance on his face was evident.

"Yes, Sir!", Admiral returned without even thinking about it.

"Well, according to the scoreboard you achieved three kills on Isards craft." The captain nodded in the direction of the scoreboard. "Isard was experiencing technical difficulty and was drifting helplessly in space. Not much skill r equired in destroying a craft that just sits there, is there?"

Admirals face turned a bright crimson color and the other pilots couldnt hold their laughter.

The captain walked back over to Klepto, smiled and placed his hands on his hips. "Well, ace. Feel like taking me on?"

"A one-on-one dogfight?", Klepto replied. "I would be honored, sir"

"Well, then. Lets get going", the captain slapped Klepto on the shoulder and climbed into an empty simulation pod.

As the two prepared themselves the remaining pilots chatted with each other excitedly.

"Do you think Klepto will win?"

"The captains gonna make mincemeat outa him."

"Ill bet you Kleptos gonna eat him alive."

"I dont know, man. Captain used to be pretty good in his day."

"How long has it been since the captains flown?"

One pilot did not share his peers excitement. Admirals face was turning red. No one noticed, too excited on the upcoming battle.

"Three respawns, medium fighters, free choice of weapons. That ok with you Klepto?", the captain called out from his pod, strapping himself to the chair.

"Yes, sir. If I may request an empty arena?"

"Ha. No asteroids, no nebula, no excuses", the captain grinned. "Suits me just fine. Ready whenever you are."

Klepto made the final touches on his armaments.

"Ready, sir."

The two pilots pulled their pods shut and the anti-gravity wells kicked in. They felt as if they were floating in the vacuum of space. A timer counted down on each of their screens.

5

Klepto assigned more energy to weapons, sacrificing some speed and shield recharge.

4

The captain adjusted his energy weapons all banks to fire simultaneously.

3

Klepto turned of un-necessary HUD displays

2

Skyblaze turned on the auto-targeting computer.

1

Both combatants gripped his flight stick in anticipation

Begin.

Klepto engaged his afterburners and had acquired his target within the first second. His warning indicator was already lit and showing that his opponent was seeking a missile lock. His target was still far enough away that he would get off several missiles before Klepto would be close enough for energy weapons.

Klepto headed straight for his target knowing that his only chance lay in missiles, as well. Klepto continued to engage his afterburners until they were depleted. His missiles required the target to remain in the center of his reticle for three sec onds. On the second his enemy had launched his swarm missiles. The missiles would reach him in one second. Was that enough time to launch his own weapons? Countermeasures were useless unless fired from the rear. Before he had time to even finish asking hi mself the question, he arrived at an answer.

Klepto continued his advance and as soon as he had a missile lock and fired them off he swerved out of the way of the oncoming fire. Too late, he realized. The shots pierced his rear and port side shields. Before he had time to balance the shields out, a second volley was on its way to deliver the death blow. Klepto accepted his fate and survived long enough for Skyblaze to waste another round of missiles that would be un-necessary. Klepto was planning his next attempt before he died.

Unfortunately, Klepto respawned close to the same place he did at the beginning of the match and he knew Skyblaze wouldnt waste any time acquiring a new target lock. Klepto fired off his afterburners and screamed toward his target. Already Klepto s warning indicator was warning of incoming missiles. So soon, he screamed to himself? Then a second, then a third set of volleys showed up with yellow indicators on his HUD. No choice, he thought.

Klepto turned his ship around and let the engine charge up his afterburner to be saved until the moment just before impact. Soon a fourth and fifth warning lit up. How was the Captain acquiring locks so quickly? He didnt know how, but he was deter mined to avoid as many as possible. The warning blip increased in frequency until it was almost a continued whine. Klepto dropped two countermeasures and was thrust into his seat from the force of engaging his afterburners. The first missile was detonated too soon, and the explosion caught the second. The third missile continued past the small puff of light and Klepto surged his ship in random directions, hoping to fool the tracker on the missile.

Too late, the third missile detonated against his shields while the fourth, fifth, and sixth missiles continued in. Klepto struggled with his controls launching a continued steam of countermeasures. The fourth shot was deflected, but the fifth and sixth continued onward and Kleptos warning lights warned of a seventh and eighth incoming missile.

Klepto realized the futility of trying to outrun the missiles and hung his head low waiting for the impact and light of the respawn. The ship was rocked by an explosion. Then another. Then two more. Only he didnt respawn. Looking back up at his sh ield display, it read to be at almost a full charge! Of course, the captain was using harmless Rockeye missiles, which required no lock time, but carried next to no detonating charge. Klepto swung his ship back around in the direction of the captain and a ccepted the last two missiles head-on with little damage to the forward shields.

Kleptos reaction was too late, the captain came in from above and cracked open Kleptos cockpit like an egg.

"Cho na, pootoo!", Klepto screamed in frustration. The translator never spoke out, not knowing Vasudan obscenities.

Klepto respawned close to Skyblazes craft and he unleashed all his anger while his captain was still firing at his old still-exploding craft. Caught unaware Skyblaze attempted to run while Klepto strafed his captains ship mercilessly. A hole open ed in the captains rear shield and Klepto unleashed his own missiles into the opening, rupturing Skyblazes hull. Skyblazes craft spun out of control and Klepto put the poor thing out of its misery.

Realize that anger would only be a detriment to his performance; Klepto released his feelings and focused on the next kill. The captain only needed to score one more kill and the game would be his. He had to get in close before the captain could un leash more of these far-reaching missiles. Klepto spotted his captains respawn. The captain was shooting at Klepto before he had centered his target. The shots were incredibly accurate for such a distance. Both pilots unleashed missiles upon each other, and both pilots swerved to dodge them. The captain decided to accept the full fury of missile into his shields and compensated by taking all but the necessary energy away from his engines and assigned it to shield recharge.

Klepto didnt want a repeat of his earlier death, so he headed straight toward the incoming swarm missiles. Just before the moment of impact, he hit his afterburners and dipped slightly down. The swarm missiles narrowly missed and began their long curve to turn around but by that time they will have lost their target. Both pilots continued their barrage of fire until they were within dogfight distance. The ships clipped each other lightly, but it was enough to tear a hole into the hull of each ship .

Both ships dived and circled each other madly, like a swarm of insects. Each one could not get a shot off on the other. It continued like this for many tense minutes, only getting quick lucky shots on each others ship. But slowly, Skyblaze was ge tting the upper hand. Kleptos arm was feeling the strain of pulling so hard on his flight stick for so long and the frequency of shots hitting his shields was increasing.

Klepto decided to try something different and shot off a quick burst of speed to swing around and get a clear shot. Several hard shots shook his craft and made him realize his mistake. Shots continued to slam into the shields and hull as Klepto bro ught his ship around to exchange fire and was greeted by Skyblazes ship colliding into his own. There was a dull cracking sound and Skyblaze unleashed all weapons and missile banks point blank, destroying both craft.

Skyblazes craft re-appeared seconds later, only alone. The simulation ended. Both pilots opened their airtight pods and were greeted by cheers. The rest of the 56^th Phalanx ran to their captains pod and greeted him with congratulations , hearty slaps on the back, and knuckles digging into his scalp.

Captain Skyblaze walked over to Klepto. Perspiration dripped from his face.

"Good fight, pilot."

"I am ashamed I could not present a more formidable challenge, sir."

"Dont worry about it, pilot", said the captain slapping Klepto on the shoulder. "I flew fighters during the Great War. They made me captain for a reason."

"Damn right they did", shouted one pilot. The rest cheered their agreement.

The pilot nicknamed Iceman put his hand on the tall Vasudans shoulder.

"You do know about the squadron rule that the squad ace has to buy the first round of drinks, dont you?", Iceman asked.

The other thirsty pilots nodded in agreement stating that it was a time honored ruling dating back to the days when Terrans first began traveling the stars.

"I must decline your invitation for recreation. I wish return to my quarters."

Some of the pilots voiced their objections. One pilot was glad.

"What about you, captain?" Iceman pressed. "Come celebrate your victory?"

"Ah. I cant", the captain rubbed the back of his neck. "Gotta get back to the bridge. Go on without me. Have fun, men. Thats an order."

The remaining squad was only too happy to comply. They left the simulation room; taunting Admiral on his heroic kills. Klepto followed the group to the door but was stopped by the captain.

"Dchwo-we Mot. I would speak with you for a moment."

The captain waited until the entire squad had left the room.

"You received a transmission from the Vasudan craft we randevoud with. They sent some files, as well."

"I had requested some historical and genealogical records."

"They also requested that I give you a message. You are always welcome to serve with us again."

Dchwo-we Mot did not respond.

"You record doesnt say that you had previously served a tour of duty. Why is that?"

Dchwo-we Mot did not respond.

"Do you realize that forgery of GTVA records is a punishable offense?"

"It was done with the approval of Vasudan officers, sir. No offense has been committed", Dchwo-we Mot replied.

"Well, then why Ensign? With your skills you should be in command of your own squad"

"If you will forgive my saying so, sir. It is a personal matter. One which I do not wish to discuss."

The captain stared hard into the black, pupil-less eyes of Dchwo-we Mot.

"Well, you are certainly entitled to your privacy."

The two of them shared another silent awkward moment.

"You are dismissed, pilot."

Dchwo-we Mot left without another word. Captain Skyblaze was left alone with his thoughts and memories.

* * * * *

Dchwo-we Mot entered his personal quarters. Normally pilots would share quarters with each other, encouraging pilots to spend all their time together as a squad. But because Vasudans were more comfortable under higher temperatures and lower humi dity. Dchwo-we Mot had a room that could house four pilots to himself. He stood in the doorway and enjoyed the sensation of warm dry air wash over his body.

Finally stepping into his quarters, Dchwo-we Mot discarded his flight suit and sat at a terminal. He entered in his personal encryption key. It was all there. All the files he requested. It would take time to sift through them all, but the knowled ge was there. It waited patiently for any curious enough to find it. Page after page of news clips, history books, ancient personal logs, records dating from the Great War thirty-two years previous. After so long he might finally understand why...

End of Prologue