In the same manner that I turned Gatchaman episode 102 into a "Battle of the Planets" episode, Dreams of Deception, and Gatchaman episode 103 into a follow-up "Battle of the Planets" episode, Truth and Treachery, here is Gatchaman episode 104, also converted to a "Battle of the Planets" episode. It's a follow-up to the first two and starts immediately where Truth and Treachery left off.
Again, there's probably too much fighting and suffering in this for Battle of the Planets (though I did "edit out" a lot from the Gatch version), as well as too much plot weirdness (oh yes!) and episode continuity, but I'm not claiming this could really pass muster as a BOTP episode. As ever, I have a much greater appreciation for what the Battle of the Planets writers accomplished!
See my profile page for a link to a version with screen cap "illustrations" at the Gatchaman Archives.
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A Planet in Peril
All seemed peaceful at Center Neptune –certainly the distant schools of fish swimming past looked serene.
"Here at Center Neptune, many fathoms beneath the waves," said 7-Zark-7, "I keep a constant watch on the universe for any threats to Earth or other Federation planets."
But inside his control room atop the undersea facility, the cylindrical robot was pacing rapidly.
"But I can't remember the last time I was this anxious," he declared fretfully, "And robots never forget! It would be no surprise if I've shorted out half my servo-storage sub-units, the stress I'm under."
He did, however, stop pacing.
"The Phoenix is in the Middle Sea, still battling that terrible Spectran catfish ship, and Jason is still missing. I haven't found any clues yet as to where he's gone, though I've put all my scanners that I can possibly spare on the search. I'll just check my monitors again-"
He was gliding toward his console when he heard the chime of an incoming audio communication being received, as the little dangling speaker vibrated.
"Center Neptune, 7-Zark-7," he said with the voice of one hoping for the best and preparing for the worst.
"Hello Zark," breathed a sultry female voice, "This is Susan, at the early warning station, on planet Pluto."
"Well, hello, Susan!" said Zark, momentarily cheery, as his antennae sprang to attention.
"There's something I need to tell you, Zark," she continued, "I did as you asked, and put all my most sensitive deep space probes onto tracking the ship in which you said Jason departed the Space Center."
"And have you found out where he went?" asked Zark eagerly.
"Not exactly," replied Susan, "But last position and bearing that I was able to detect, the ship was heading into the Crab Nebula."
Zark's antennae drooped now.
"And you know what that means," added Susan, "But I'll keep looking, Zark. Bye…"
"Jason went to Spectra?" said Zark, beginning to pace anew, "I know he just found out that- But surely he wouldn't- I know him and he'd never-"
He came to a halt.
"There just has to be an explanation that makes sense! But in the meantime, what is happening to the others, on the Phoenix? I have to check my monitors!"
He sped over to his console and began frantically pushing buttons.
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Deep beneath the Middle Sea, the Phoenix was in the clutches of the massive Spectran catfish ship's whiskers even as the catfish fired laser beams at it. Fortunately all its shots were missing their struggling target –so far- but the force of the explosions from the beams striking the seafloor and nearby rocks were enough to send tremors slamming through the bridge of the Phoenix, and its four occupants.
"Tiny," ordered Mark, "Keep trying –we're not beaten yet!"
"I'm on it," replied Tiny, straining at the controls as he sought to evade the catfish's laser beams, "But those whiskers sure have a tight grip!"
Indeed they did, as one was wrapped about one of the Phoenix's wings as the other gripped the ship around its nose, so tightly that cracks were forming. Inside the nose, Jason's spacemobile shook as cracks grew along the walls around it.
On the bridge, Princess and Keyop were holding on to each other to keep from falling from their chairs as tremors wracked the Phoenix.
"Can't fire missiles… we're too close," Keyop said to Princess, fear visible on his face.
"I've got an idea!" announced Mark, and their hopeful eyes turned his way.
"Tell us!" said Princess.
Mark's face was grim with determination now. "Tiny, push all the thrusters to max, but don't try to go up."
He turned back to the viewscreen to stare out at the fearsome catfish.
"Take us sideways and down –try to smash a whisker!"
"Yeah," agreed Tiny, gritting his teeth, "They won't be expecting that!"
A bright light appeared above the catfish's eyes as it readied its laser beam for yet another attempt to blast the Phoenix. "Now's our chance!" cried Tiny, reaching for the thruster control buttons. Before the catfish could shoot at them again, he swooped the Phoenix sideways and down, dragging the clutching whiskers with it as he bashed the ship straight into a section of the long whisker whose end was wrapped about the Phoenix's nose. The whisker broke apart at the site of the impact and the now-severed portion lost its grip on the Phoenix and fell away. With only one whisker now holding them, Tiny was able to whip the Phoenix around in a tight turn, heading away from the catfish. The catfish's laser beam fired twice in quick succession but now its aim was haphazard –the Phoenix no longer held in place- and to the great luck of the G-Force members, one laser beam struck and destroyed the whisker end that was gripping the Phoenix's wing.
"Talk about shooting yourself in the foot!" jeered Tiny even as he slumped over the throttle in relief.
"Now we can fire missiles," said Mark.
"Big ten!" replied Tiny, sitting up and grabbing the throttle and wrenching the Phoenix around in a tight, fast arc towards the catfish ship.
"Oops," gasped Princess. She'd relaxed her hold on Keyop and now he tumbled from his chair onto the floor.
"Need better seatbelt," he burbled reproachfully.
The catfish ship was looming in their viewscreen again. "Now's your chance, Mark," said Tiny as Mark reached for the red button.
"Keep her steady," he replied.
"Will do," said Tiny.
Yet even as Mark waited for the perfect moment to fire a missile, a barrage of purple spikes suddenly detached from the catfish and came zooming towards the Phoenix. Tiny dodged and maneuvered the Phoenix, barely managing to evade them.
"Now would be good!" cried Tiny and Mark raised his fist and brought it down hard on the red button, sending a missile straight for the catfish's head.
For good measure, Tiny tore the Phoenix through the fin on the end of the catfish's tail and then they sped on their way towards the surface.
An explosion of water and flames erupted from the beneath the Middle Sea, indicating that the Spectran catfish ship below wouldn't be causing any more earthquakes. The missile had accomplished its job, and now the Phoenix was back in the sunny, blue sky.
On the bridge, Chief Anderson suddenly appeared on one of the screens.
"Good work, G-Force, defeating that Spectran ship," he said, but he looked more stressed than relieved.
"Any word on Jason?" asked Mark. Now that there was no longer an imminent threat of earthquakes, his mind had gone straight to the other problem at hand –their missing teammate.
"Yeah," chimed in Tiny, looking worried, "Anyone know where he's gone?"
"According to Zark, he's gone to Spectra," said Chief Anderson, keeping his voice stiff –even for him.
"Oh no," cried Princess, "Why would Jason go there?"
"I wish I knew," replied Chief Anderson, "But the facts are that Jason has, without any authorization, gone to Spectra and all attempts to contact or track him there have failed."
"What are you implying?" asked Mark, looking stunned.
Chief Anderson closed his eyes, saying "He's turned off or disabled his wrist communicator."
He opened his eyes again to look at them all.
"As Security Chief, I can't rule out… defection."
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Far away, on Spectra, inside the secret underground base in the Damruk Mountains, Jason was lying on his back on the floor. Not only was he still dizzy and nauseous, but the paralytic tranquilizer Captain Baldrik had shot him with prevented him from standing or walking and there was no indication that it would be wearing off any time soon. But then, Jason had hit the Captain and his soldiers with feather stunners and they wouldn't be conscious again any time soon.
They had apparently been taken to a medical ward, but the soldiers who had found them all lying on the ground outside had dumped Jason here, on the floor of what appeared to be some kind of control room. Several of them now stood guard over him, awaiting Zoltar's orders as to what to do with him. They'd found his gun and taken it away from him. It, and his badly damaged wrist communicator, lay on a nearby table.
There was nothing for Jason to do, as he lay there with his eyes closed, except to think, and remember…
An apartment in a city… An old lady, Rian, she took care of me, Mala visited whenever she could, took me to the park across the street…
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The gleaming red pod, made of the most heat resistant material known, was poised over the deep shaft, ready to be launched deep into the Spectra's mantle.
"Awaiting coordinates and detonation timing, Sire," announced a voice.
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"Your mantle reactor was to save, not destroy Spectra," intoned the Great Spirit in a cold voice from the wall of his audience chamber within the base.
"It will, Oh Luminous One," said Zoltar hastily, gesturing with one arm, "Soon we will have near infinite energy at our disposal!" He held his arms aloft and spread them wide for emphasis.
"The reaction is out of control, the planet's mantle unstable!"
"The mantle procedure will restore stability, I assure you," declared Zoltar, brandishing his hands before him in a show of confidence, "Then, we will truly have the power we need to conquer all!" Zoltar smiled as he clenched his fists.
"Do not attempt to deceive me," replied the Great Spirit, "I know what has happened to Captain Baldrik. You need his expertise for the procedure, and you have lost it!"
The Spectran deity's face began to flash in harsh patterns of erratic lines, a rare show of fury.
"Fear not, Oh Great Spirit," gasped Zoltar, "I worked closely with Baldrik on all the preparations, and I swear I know enough!" He waved his arms beseechingly before bowing his head and raising a hand to his chest in a deferential salute, "I will yet save Spectra."
"The ancient temple here," replied the Luminous One more quietly, "Was built for me, when I first came to Spectra."
"Have you not always been here on Spectra?" asked Zoltar, his head snapping up in surprise.
"I am older than you can possibly comprehend, Zoltar, but I have not always been here," replied the Great Spirit enigmatically, before shifting to an imperious tone again. "Win Mala's son over to our side or force him to collaborate, but above all, succeed with the mantle procedure!"
Zoltar bowed again, saying "I live only to serve you, most Glorious One," before turning and departing the chamber.
"You have failed me too often, Zoltar, for me to trust in your competence now," said the Great Spirit to himself, once alone, "I will make preparations of my own…"
His eyes turned a sinister shade of red.
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The tall coils of the deep seismic energy detectors were glowing near the ceiling of the large room that housed the controls for the mantle procedure. The four soldiers who had worked most closely with Captain Baldrik and Zoltar (those who had not fallen prey to Jason's feather stunners, that is) were seated at a long console before panels of buttons, dials and instruments. Zoltar presided over them, sitting further back in a throne-like chair. At his side was a small table holding a bottle of wine chilling in an ice bucket.
"The directional coordinates and detonation timing has been set, Sire!" announced one of the soldiers.
"Let us begin," said Zoltar. He downed a large swig of wine, but snapped his fingers as one striving to show confidence. A small table covered with a glass dome now rose up from the floor before him. The dome retracted, exposing a large yellow button with the red Spectran symbol upon it, the pressing of which would begin the mantle procedure.
Zoltar paused, casting back his cloak and clutching his hands together, cracking his knuckles.
"Closely track all incoming mantle data, planet wide," barked Zoltar, hunching over to stare anxiously at the yellow button, his fists clenched, "Quick, precise analysis will be vital!"
It was fortunate that the four soldiers had their backs to him as he stared, trembling, at the yellow button; they did not see the two tears that fell from his eyes.
"And the pods' positions and timing…" he whispered to himself.
"To our success!" he yelled grandly, and slammed his fist down on the button.
Lights began to flash on the console, and beneath a large and prominent number display as the first of the many, many pods to come was conveyed along an elevated track towards the deep shaft that had been constructed to give them ease of access to the planet's mantle.
"Remember," Zoltar was telling the soldiers as the first pod slid into the device over top the shaft, which then began to rotate to bring the pod into the correct launch position, "As long as the mantlemeter does not reach zero, there is time to succeed with the procedure."
The pod now in the correct position, its wheels aligned precisely on the guide rails that would direct it down into the planet's liquid mantle, it was sent on its way…
"Keep me apprised of all energy output from the mantle, planet wide, where it is both dangerously high and low," continued Zoltar, "I will determine exactly where to send either cadmixium or plutantrium pods, and exactly when they must detonate."
The first pod disappeared into the dark depths of the shaft.
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In his office at the Federation headquarters on Earth, President Kane held a telephone in one hand and a cigar in the other.
"Zark's decoding a top secret message," he said, "That's been sent to me?"
He stubbed out his cigar in an ashtray. "And you don't know who it's from?"
He was silent for a moment, listening.
"He thinks it's Spectran? Why not through the usual… hmmph, diplomatic channels?
He hung up the phone then.
"Very odd…" he said quietly to himself, staring across his office.
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The pod plunged from the planet's crust and into the glowing magma of the Spectran mantle, whereupon it exploded, releasing and dispersing its contents through that region of the mantle, deep beneath the planet's surface.
But all was not well on the surface of Spectra. In a distant mountain range, lava suddenly burst forth from the ground and spewed into the air as the whole region shook violently in a severe earthquake.
"Dangerous high readings!" cried one of the soldiers as a needle on one of the console's many instruments began waving erratically.
Even the base itself was affected by the earthquake. Bits of debris fell from the ceiling of the procedure control room as the soldiers stared up anxiously.
"Sire," asked one soldier apprehensively, "Is this… normal for the procedure?"
"Do not panic!" yelled Zoltar, extending one arm in a quelling gesture, "I know what I am doing! Everything is in order! I will study the newest incoming data, but in the meantime, continue with the pod sequence that I have set!"
He clenched his hand, swinging his arm angrily.
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In his office, President Kane stood up suddenly in shock, a telephone held tightly to his ear.
"An underground revolutionary movement, on Spectra?" he gasped, now clutching some papers on his desk anxiously.
"Yes," came Chief Anderson's voice through the receiver, "Their message claims they want Federation support, though we don't know who their leader is."
"I'm on my way over!" declared President Kane, hanging up the phone and striding quickly from his office.
Even as he did so, the Phoenix flew past the many skyscrapers visible through his office's large window.
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Despite their victory over the catfish ship, on the bridge of the Phoenix, tension and worry prevailed among the G-Force members as they all slumped wearily in their chairs or stared blankly ahead.
Mark's arms were folded stubbornly. "The Jason I know would never defect to Spectra," he declared, frowning.
Princess bowed her head, clutching her helmet with both hands.
"He must have tried to contact us, to explain," she cried, sitting up suddenly to scrutinize her wrist communicator, "Could his signal just be delayed?"
Keyop said nothing, but he gazed sadly over at the empty chair by the radar screens, where Jason should have been sitting.
"He just learned he's half Spectran," said Tiny, rubbing his nose nervously, "Could he be looking for…"
"Must have been adopted, as baby," pointed out Keyop emphatically, frowning, "Knows nothing… about biological parents."
Having been grown from a single cell in a laboratory, knowing nothing of one's genetic progenitors was a familiar state for Keyop.
"That's right," said Princess, standing up, "The mother and father that he remembers…"
"Yeah," said Mark, continuing her train of thought, "The parents he lost when he was six-" Mark stood up and looked at the others, "Jason knows neither of them were Spectran!"
Suddenly Ken turned his head back to the front of the bridge as Chief Anderson appeared on one of the screens.
"G-Force," he ordered, "Return to Federation headquarters and await further instructions there."
"With all respect, Sir, shouldn't we go to Spectra?" replied Mark.
"No," replied the Chief, "Zark can't find him and you won't either."
Mark's eyes widened in dismay, as all the others gasped too.
"But Chief…" began Princess.
"Spectra is a very large planet," continued Chief Anderson, "You'd be in danger and wasting your time."
"Jason's no defector!" declared Mark, raising a clenched hand and moving closer to the screen, "He'll have some explanation."
"Commander, my word is final –you're not going to Spectra!" snapped the Chief.
Shock registered on Mark's face as he realized the Chief was adamant in this.
"What are we supposed to do, then, just sit around and wait?"
"Until I say otherwise," came the Chief's reply, "Yes. It seems there's a volatile political situation developing on Spectra. I don't want to believe Jason's involved, but until I know more, you wait."
And with that, he vanished abruptly from the screen, leaving Mark staring at its blankness.
Mark sat back in his chair resignedly, saying "Tiny, you heard him, take us to headquarters."
"I'd like to know what this 'political situation' is," remarked Tiny, glancing over at Mark.
"Yes," agreed Princess.
Frustration was writ large on Mark's face.
"We have to trust in Jason. Whatever hot-headed notion made him run off to Spectra…"
Here Mark stared ahead grimly.
"He would never be disloyal."
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