Episode 4: Assemble the Outcasts
The castle floor shook, rattling every shard of crystal in Trelaina's castle and quaking every drop of water in the mountain lake.
Trelaina left any thought of sleep behind as she snatched up her dress hem and dashed to the door. The darkness beyond the lake loomed like a barely chained monster kept at bay by the castle's soft glow. Another tremor jolted the air and Trelaina grabbed the door frame for balance. This time, the quake's intensity sent waves like jagged fingers to scrape at the hovering castle.
In the moment of peace between two waves, Trelaina rushed to the comm console. Its display activated at her touch and a warning flashed as video from at least a hundred tiny drones flooded the screen and overflowed into the air around her. Dread rose thick in her throat. "You found your courage…" she whispered as a battalion of sturdy tanks tracked across the desert nearest Trelaina's mountain. The symbol of the white comet glared from each metal flank like a starving lion, ready to shred its next victim. Tank after tank rolled through the dunes and tore through ruined piles of ancient stone – all that remained of a once-thriving civilization.
An instant of guilt tried to paralyze her, say this was all her fault. Enough! Trelaina raised the castle's protective shield. "Try to take my world again," she dared the coming troops. "Even with all your might, you cannot fell me, Gatlanteans." Silver globes hanging from her long sleeves pulsed with growing light as Trelaina knelt, hands folded, closed eyes raised in a prayer.
Even now, enemy soldiers' footsteps clicked in the entry tunnel. Soon they would find her, try to kill her, or worse, take her for their own uses. Word of her power had spread after the first encounter with the Cometines over a hundred years ago, and many had come to claim her in that interim.
"Shaddai," Trelaina whispered her prayer, "lend me Your grace." Brilliant sparks danced and clung to her hair like fireflies on a summer's eve. She rose and went to the open door, invisible from outside the shield.
The cavern mouth yawned, dark and empty until fifteen men trickled through, all armed. They spread through the cavern like ants over bare rock. Their leader, a sturdy man, skin moss-green with a scar crossing one eye, stopped eyes fixed on her as if he could see through the shield. As the rest of the men surrounded the lake, the leader raised a fist and waved it forward, a signal for everyone to advance. All fifteen sloshed into the lake.
"General Torbuk, we're wasting our time," said the soldier nearest the scarred man. "There's nothing –"
"Silence!" Torbuk said as he waded three feet farther into the water and hefted his weapon. The gun's shell alone threatened ruin. Blacker than midnight, its muzzle stretched wide as a small cannon. He slung it onto one shoulder, took a wide stance, and fired.
Thunder shook the air as a blast the color of mangled dreams blazed toward Trelaina. She flung up both hands and looked away.
Shouts filled the cavern as a wall of water shot up around the invisible castle and drowned the blast before shoving the soldiers to shore, drenched. Even General Torbuk staggered backward, weapon still balanced on his shoulder.
"She's here," Torbuk growled. "Retreat to the tunnel!"
The unit hurried into the passage as water rushed after them, grasping at them now instead of Trelaina's home. Each reach of the lake flailed at the soldiers' boots and sent several slipping into the mud in their hurry to flee.
Trelaina dropped her hands and concentrated on the men's faint voices, now just inside the tunnel.
"… Diviner…?" One asked.
"Can't be," another answered.
"… too long," a third said.
"What about… water?" the first man said.
"Take her… Prince Zordar."
Torbuk leapt from the tunnel and swung out his weapon, holding it like a battering ram. He took aim at the cavern center again.
Leave me alone! Trelaina's ring, an adoption gift from her father, burned hot as a brand. She raised the emerald ring high, and golden light flowed over her from head to foot. You will not make this a place of war again. Trelaina's feet left the entrance' threshold, and she rose from the castle. To the soldiers she appeared as if by magic, floating in the air like a ship atop the waves.
"The Diviner!" one soldier brave enough to peek from the tunnel shouted. "She's alive!"
The air around Trelaina stuttered and sparked. White heat hazed her vision as half the lake's water broke from the basin and swirled around her in a protective sphere.
Even Torbuk scrambled back down the tunnel screaming, "The Diviner! The Diviner is alive!"
"Fighters incoming, from the Lunar Base," Nova said from the radar station. "Three squadrons—Tiger class."
"Gunnery teams, prepare to—" Dash began.
"No. Hold your fire." Derek, at the captain's station at the back of the bridge, stood.
"Yes, Sir," Dash said.
Each plane whizzed by the line of front bridge viewports. Derek's suspicion rose as the entire group turned and whipped past again, skimming less than ten feet from the bridge tower. It can't be… He wouldn't leave his post on a hunch… Would he?
Nova stifled a gasp as the planes pulled stunts that would drop most pilots' guts in the recycler.
One of the three squadrons formed up just ahead of the Argo.
Derek crossed his arms and set his jaw. Come on. If it's you, say something.
The lead plane flipped into a barrel roll, and three others copied the maneuver.
"Wildstar, listen!" At the comm station, Homer broadcasted an incoming message.
"–Conroy. Permission to board the Argo?"
Derek sighed in relief and sat back down. "Granted. It's good to see you again, Peter."
"Heard you were causing trouble, Wildstar." Conroy chuckled. "Couldn't pass up the chance to come along. Brought same new recruits too."
"Glad you showed," Derek said. "Hangar doors are open."
"Roll out the red carpet," said Peter. "Conroy's Tigers are coming home!"
The bridge officers cheered and all except Nova and Homer – who stayed in case of emergency – rushed to the hangar. Everyone arrived just as the fifth plane slid into its bay. A line of fighters stretched the length of the hangar. In the low gravity pilots floated down from their cockpits two and three at a time as more and more Tigers docked.
Derek pushed off the floor and glided over to Peter, who was just taking off his helmet.
"Conroy!" Derek clapped the pilot on the shoulder. "It's good to see this hangar full again. We only had one astro-fighter on board, and that's because Feria sneaked it on just before we left."
"Feria's with you?" Conroy looked around the hangar. "She's not here."
"I put her on third—same as her rotation at the base," Derek replied.
"Oh…" Conroy said and then glanced over his shoulder. "Wildstar, I want you to meet three of the new recruits." He indicated the approaching trio. "Jefferson Hardy." He motioned forward a young man, hair swooped over one eye.
Hardy took off his helmet and stuck out his hand. "Pleasah ta meet you," he drawled. "I've huhed about this ship." He surveyed the hangar. "A beauty."
Derek chuckled. "Yes, she is."
Peter beckoned the second pilot. "Francis Kelly Georgia Rory Mathison," Conroy recited. "But she goes by 'Buddy.'"
"Good to meet you." Derek offered his hand.
"It's wonderful to be here!" Buddy gushed, grabbing Derek's hand with both of hers as she left her helmet to float beside her. Her blue eyes sparkled. "When Tiger Lead—Conroy—said he was coming along on the Argo's mission, whatever that is, we all wanted in."
Derek smiled. "I'm glad all of you made it."
"And…" Peter waved to the third pilot who hovered ten feet away. "This is my wingman, Dathan Feldmann. He was stationed at Luna II when I got there—really helped me settle in." Conroy clapped Feldmann on the back as the new pilot unfastened his helmet and tucked it under one arm. "Dathan, meet my old friend, Derek Wildstar, the Argo's acting captain."
Dathan towered six inches above Derek, and his deep emerald eyes were unsettling. Medium bronze skin made Derek look pasty, and Dathan's hair was several shades darker than his. A closely shaven goatee branched over the pilot's stoic upper lip.
Dathan extended his hand. On his wrist was a thin, silver band, inscribed with the initials, D.F. "My medical records," he offered. "Nothing to be too concerned about."
Derek nodded. "It's good to have you aboard." He gave the pilot's hand a firm shake and hid a wince at Feldmann's strong grasp. "Any wingman of Conroy's is welcome aboard."
The pilot's grip relaxed.
"But he's not better than me."
Dathan's surprise jolted through Derek's hand, and the new pilot let go of Wildstar's hand as Feria popped around Conroy's other shoulder. She wore a bright smile.
"No one will ever be better than you." Peter grinned. "I thought you were asleep."
"Sleep's overrated." Feria waved off the suggestion.
"Get everyone settled in," Derek said. "Since we're black-listed now, we have to be ready for anything."
Conroy nodded, eyes still on Feria. "Will do, Captain."
As the rest of Conroy's troupe settled into their new hangar, Peter and Feria floated at the bottom of one bay stack and stared up at the topmost pilot weaving in and out of his cockpit to give it a thorough cleaning.
Peter reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a silver chain. A red stone shone in its setting. He held it out to Feria in an open palm. "Here."
"Keep it."
Peter's heart skipped as Feria curled his hand around the carmine. "But it's–"
"Mine to give," she whispered as her deep brown eyes sparkled at him.
The stone's slight warmth radiated into Peter's hand. A flush settled in his cheeks, and he tucked the stone back into his pocket. His fingers brushed the letter Feria left him after their journey to Iscandar. * "I–"
"Do I get a tour of this place?" Feldmann rounded a plane parked a few feet away.
Peter started. "Dathan! Yes, sure." He gave Feria a long look.
"Go on," she said. "We'll catch up later."
"Later," Peter said and then motioned for Dathan to follow as he pushed off toward the hangar door. "Don't know how long we have, so I'm just going to hit the high points for now."
Dathan stuck close as Peter wove through the narrow halls with confident ease. They stopped at a nearby gun placement then headed to the med bay before circling around to the engine room.
When they stepped through the wide door, Dathan stopped, eyes fixed on the massive structure that occupied the cavernous space. "That… is the engine?"
Peter nodded. "We built it using a design Queen Starsha gave us before we set out for Iscandar." He lowered his voice to a whisper, "She sent us the core."
Dathan crossed his arms. "Impressive. I didn't know this ship had such a colorful history."
Peter waved Dathan along. "Come on. Chief Orion doesn't like anyone hanging around in here."
His wingman followed him, but not without casting a dozen glances back at the engine before they left.
"These are the crew quarters," Peter said as they entered a quiet section. "There's a common area at the complex's center. Have you checked your room assignment?"
Dathan pulled out his newly issued comm. "Not yet."
"You should have a message…" Peter leaned over Dathan's comm. "Here." He tapped the newest notice. "Room twenty-four in section B. That's…" Peter looked up and down the hall. "This way." He pointed to a section up ahead.
"Captain Wildstar has his own quarters elsewhere, I'd imagine," Dathan said as he tucked his comm away.
"The cabin over the bridge? No. He would never take that. It belonged to the Argo's first captain, Abraham Avatar. He led us to Iscandar and back—and died doing it." Peter stopped and pointed to the door opposite them. "That's Wildstar's quarters."
"He must have great respect for Captain Avatar." Dathan studied the door.
"We all do," Peter said. "He was… a hero."
Derek didn't bother to hold in his smile as Nova checked over the radar, looking thrilled to have her old equipment back, plus a few upgrades.
"Approaching the asteroid belt," Nova said. "Once we're through, we can make our first warp." She adjusted the radar and made sure all the new elements were properly activated. "Capitol ship incoming," she said and checked the Iscandari module to get a quicker registry. "It's Andromeda!"
Derek's smile disappeared as Nova put the ship on the main viewscreen. Just what we needed.
"We can lose them in the belt," Mark said from the helm.
"It's worth a shot," Derek said. "Take us in."
Mark angled them into the belt. As Argo's bow plunged into the stream of rock fragments, Andromeda didn't slow.
"They're at the ring's outer perimeter," Nova said. "And… they aren't following. They've disappeared! Gone off the radar!"
"Find them." Derek studied each asteroid they passed as Mark edged through the field like a soldier through landmines. But within the hour, the Argo emerged unscathed.
"Andromeda straight ahead, off the port bow," Nova said.
"They went over it," Mark hissed.
"All ahead, half-impulse," said Derek. "Dash, prepare main guns, but hold fire until I give the order."
Andromeda swung starboard and brought all her guns to bear on the Argo.
"We've got a hail," Homer said.
"Put it through."
Captain Gideon's grizzled face, half-hidden by his drooping captain's hat flickered onto the viewscreen. His shadowed eyes, dark and stern, locked onto Derek. "Return, Wildstar."
"Not until I'm sure Earth is safe." Derek matched the old man's stare.
"Turn back," Gideon warned. "You'll be outcasts—fugitives."
"What people call us isn't important. Earth is in danger, Captain Gideon, and we're going to find out why." Derek signaled Homer to cut the call. Gideon's face vanished, but Andromeda made no move to get out of the way.
Argo advanced, its bow less than a thousand mega-meters from Andromeda. Gideon's ship still didn't budge.
"Wildstar…" Mark's voice rose as the distance to the other ship closed.
"Stay on course."
Mark clenched the helm controls, tenser than a drawn bowstring.
"Steady."
The next second, Argo scraped over Andromeda's main gun turrets and passed twenty feet from its bridge tower. They were so close the men seated at the frontmost bridge stations were visible. Derek held his breath and leaned forward in the captain's seat, waiting for Andromeda's retaliation.
Nothing.
Andromeda never fired a shot.
Derek checked the radar station on his console. Any second now Gideon will come after us. Any second…
Homer startled Derek. "We're getting a message—no, two. One's headed for EDF Headquarters from Andromeda. It reads, 'Anticipated encounter with the Argo did not occur. Will return to Earth immediately.' The other is addressed to… us. 'I know Captain Avatar taught you well, and I trust his judgment in you. Do what you must to save Earth.'"
"That sly old man just bought us a lot of time," Dash said.
Derek stood and gave the departing Andromeda a salute. "We owe you one, Captain Gideon."
Derek groaned and cracked open both eyes for the sixth time in two hours. "Will you be quiet already?" he growled at the spindly plant beside the door. Queen Starsha's gift often made peculiar sounds, but seldom this persistently, and in the middle of the night.
The rustling stopped.
Derek sighed and sat up. He rubbed his aching head. "Thanks, Mark." The bunk above him, where Mark had stayed during their last trip, lay empty. "Couldn't stay with the acting captain." Derek shook his head. "No, of course not—not your place." He rolled his eyes. "You just had to move in with Homer instead." Derek rolled out of bed. "Leave me alone with this creepy alien plant that won't shut up. What's it doing anyway? Trying to talk to me?" He kept muttering as he paced the small room for five minutes.
Another rustle. His head pounded now.
"I get it!" Derek growled at the plant. "I don't even know what I'm doing out here!" He sank to his knees. "And now I'm talking to myself. What kind of captain leads a team on a mission he doesn't understand…?" Derek beat the floor with one angry fist. The next second he hissed and shook the offended hand. He got up, threw on the clothes discarded in the corner and stepped into the hall. "Feldmann?" Derek dodged the taller man an instant before Dathan ran into him. "It's 0200."
"Sorry… Captain." Dathan, wearing something akin to a maintenance uniform, tucked his hands into his dark pants' pockets. "Couldn't sleep. First night in a new place—you know?"
"Had a few of those myself," Derek replied. "Headed anywhere in particular?"
"Just… wandering," the pilot said as he took a step back to give Derek room enough to leave his cabin.
"I think I'll head down to the labs." Derek said. "I know Sandor's still up. You want to tag along?"
"Sure." Dathan fell into step beside Derek, slowing his longer strides to match Derek's pace.
Derek rubbed his drooping eyes and noticed Dathan pull his hands out of his pockets long enough to scratch his braceleted wrist.
When they reached Sandor's lab, Derek stepped inside first, Dathan close behind. A light shone above the inside door frame, and another glowed beside Sandor's desk. Wall-mounted computer displays set in a precise grid bathed the rest of the lab in dim light. Each display captured Sandor's intermittent attention as the science officer and XO sifted through gigaquads of information from the Iscandar trip.
When Derek entered, Nova stepped around the desk and into the light. "What're you doing here?" she said.
Dathan jumped like a startled cat when Nova appeared. "I... think I'll head back to my bunk. That walk was exactly what I needed."
"Goodnight," Derek said. Once Dathan left, Derek approached Nova. "Couldn't sleep. You?"
"Came to check up on some new features for the radar," Nova said, her eyes locked on the door.
"You okay?" Derek asked.
"It's just… Something about that new pilot seems… familiar."
"Maybe he was stationed at HQ for a while?" Derek offered.
"No… It's not that. His eyes. They remind me of…"
Derek raised a brow.
Nova shook her head and waved the strange feeling away. "No. It's nothing," she sighed. "It's late. I'm going to bed." She started for the lab door.
All three officers' comms buzzed.
"Trouble," Sandor muttered as he reluctantly left his research to follow Derek and Nova up to the bridge.
"What's going on?" Derek demanded as he stepped off the bridge elevator.
"Wildstar, you've got to hear this," Homer said. "It's an S.O.S." He leaned over the night shift comm tech and re-played the most recent message.
"Marine base—Brumis—attacked!" the recording hissed. "Help—strange ships—too fast!"
"Brumis?" Derek said. "But that's—"
"Just out past Eris," Homer said. "Sounds bad. The signal repeats every thirty seconds."
"Vasquez, set course for Brumis. Nova, you think you can do a quick warp calculation?"
"On it." Nova enlisted Miki, the other primary radar tech, to help and within sixty seconds, they were done. "Sending the numbers to helm now."
"Got it," Vasquez, the third-shift helmsman, said. "Warp in thirty seconds."
"Hang on just a little longer, guys," Derek whispered. "We're coming."
Episode 4 Notes:
* To read about the letter Feria left Peter, check out the short story "Flame" in the "Yamato: Tales of the Star Force" collection.
Author's Notes:
Editing pass one completed on 12/1/2019
- The title for Episode Four was taken from Isaiah 11:11-12
"And it shall come to pass in that day, that the Lord shall set his hand again the second time to recover the remnant of his people, which shall be left, from Assyria, and from Egypt, and from Pathros, and from Cush and from Elam, and from Shinar, and from Hamath, and from the islands of the sea. And he shall set up an ensign for the nations, and shall assemble the outcasts of Israel, and gather together the dispersed of Judah from the four corners of the earth."
