Chapter 13The first thing he became aware of was the throbbing ache that filled his head. Then, slowly, as his senses began to register, he realized that his whole body ached. There was also the taste of blood in his mouth. "Oh, man, do I hurt." David mumbled to the empty cockpit. He wiggled his arms and legs, then his hands and feet. <Well, at least nothing's broken.> He glanced around the cockpit, quickly surveying the damage. The fusion plant had shut down. Most of the servo motors were shorted out. External optics weren't working. The transformation circuitry was jammed <Probably from that flying tackle. Or the explosion. Or any number of things.> He keyed open the comm circuit, and heard Lieutenant Landers' voice a few moments before her image appeared on the right-most screen. "-et yourself a fresh Veritech, then. Montgomery and Rasimus, you take him down and get your planes restocked too." <Restocked? They must be going out again.> David keyed a line to the Lieutenant, but nothing happened - the radio was out. <Damn!> The Lieutenant was still giving orders. "Zance? You conscious yet?" There was a slight pause. "Someone take his VT below, too." David thumped on the comm panel several times, and the comm circuit clicked open. <That's one was to fix it, I suppose.> "Sir?" "You alright, Marshall?" she asked. She continued before he had a chance to speak. "Obviously not. Once you're below deck, you should get yourself taken to medical. You're in no shape for combat." <What? You need all the help you can get.> "But..." "I said GO!" she bellowed, and closed the channel. David sat quietly for a moment, listening as the Lieutenant continued to issue orders and such. <She seems to be holding up nicely enough. That's good.> Then a thought struck him. "How the hell am I supposed to get below deck?" he asked the empty cockpit. "Nothing works!" He opened a general communication line. "This is Black Twelve. My battloid's out of commission, and I need a lift down below. Can anyone assist?" "Roger than, Black Twelve." a woman's voice replied over the line. "This is Gladiator Four. I'll carry you down. Hold tight." "Thanks!" David settled himself back in his seat. <Man. Second time in a Veritech during combat, and I wreck this one too. Not good odds, Marshall. Not good odds at all.>
[] David walked stiffly down the hallway, heading for Lieutenant Landers' office. He had been resting on his bunk, trying to ignore the numerous bumps and bruises that covered his body, when a messenger had arrived, telling him that he had to report to Lieutenant Landers' office .The messenger hadn't said what it was that the Lieutenant wanted to see him about, but he had a feeling it was about previous day's battle. <Hope I don't have to pay for my poor Veritech. At least they'll have it operational again in a couple of days.> His thoughts turned to the casualties that had been dealt to the Veritech Squadrons. Luna, Blue, and Green Squadrons had been completely annihilated, and most of the other squadrons had suffered extremely heavy casualties. Skull and Black squadrons were the only two that had emerged relatively unscathed. David sighed as he thought about the five NightHawks that had not returned. There was Sergeant Malone, whom David was not going to miss at all. He felt bad that the Sergeant was dead, but he never felt all that close to the obnoxious man. He hadn't really known Corporals Clancy and Gunn all that well, although Gunn had earned a reputation as a family man. Always showing off his little boy to whoever asked. David felt sorry for his widow, and wondered how she had handled the news. Sergeant Vincent was another matter. Lance was a history buff and - like David - was thoroughly enamored with the Second World War. The two of them had spent many long nights debating the tactics and actions of the commanders of that war. David would miss those debates. Then there was Corporal Harrington. He had been outgoing, friendly to a fault. He had a fiancé on the SDF-1, and rumor had it that she had enlisted in the RDF immediately after hearing of his death. David shook his head at that. <Revenge isn't a healthy motivator. No siree Bob.> He stepped through the open doorway that led to Black Squadron's Ready Room and quickened his pace. <Wouldn't be good to be late.>
[] He walked up to the Lieutenant's office. He noticed almost immediately that the name plate had been changed. It now read "Lieutenant Commander Landers, Black Squadron." <Well, what do you know? I bet she's happy about that.> "Hey, David!" a familiar voice called out from behind him. He turned and saw Tony walking up to him, a lopsided grin on his face. There were two other pilots with him that David didn't recognize. "Hey, Tony! What's up?" "Got an appointment with the Commander." he answered, shrugging. "And you? You're looking a little black and blue." "It's what I get for playing football in a Valkyrie, I guess." He thought a moment. "I'm here to see the Commander, too. Maybe we'll be getting re-assigned to a different Wing?" "Who knows? Things have been screwy all day." Tony turned and motioned to the two unfamiliar pilots. "David, meet Corporals Charles Le'Mone and Lauren Taylor. They've been assigned to the NightHawks." David quickly looked the two of them over. Charles Le'Mone stood slightly under six feet tall, with angry mop of red hair topping his head. He had freckles all over his face, and he was smiling openly. His uniform was immaculate, every button glimmering brightly in the light. David glanced down at his own uniform, which he had ironed heavily a few hours before, and sighed. <Why is it that these things wrinkle so fast when I wear them?> His gaze shifted to Lauren Taylor. She was about five feet five, with not-quite shoulder length brown hair. Her eyes were a dark green in color, and she was smiling a peculiar smile at David, and he felt alarms go off in his head. Her uniform was neat and wrinkle-free as well. <Great. Just great. I guess I'll just have to starch the hell out of these things from now on. Even if starch does make me itch.> David smiled. "Welcome aboard." Then he paused. "Let me guess. You have a meeting with the Commander, too?" "You got it." Charles said, his smile growing wider. "I'm looking forward to this." "Really?" David asked. "Why?" "We were told that we would be meeting our Wing commander." Lauren answered, still giving him that peculiar smile. "That's..." <Wing commander? Uh oh.> "...nice." David turned and rapped on the door. Commander Landers' voice rang out. "Come in." The four of them entered Commander Landers' office, David in the lead. David saw her smile fade and resisted the urge to run away. <Starch. Definitely need starch. 'Til they can walk around on their own.> He waited until the others were lined up beside him, then saluted. The Commander returned their salutes, saying, "You should really do something about that uniform, Marshall. But we'll get to that during the next inspection." David nodded, trying hard not to look down. <No doubt about it. Gonna starch these puppies something fierce.> "Yes Sir." Her gaze shifted to the two new recruits "Welcome to the Night Hawks. I'm glad you made it through training." Her smile returned, with a mischeivous edge to it, and David's nervousness went up several notches. <I've got a bad feeling about this.> "Now. As you've all probably guessed, I've had to rearrange our squadron. You four will comprise Gamma wing." David couldn't keep his confusion from showing. <We're still in Gamma wing? Then who's gonna be in charge...O, no... she wouldn't!> "Sergeant Marshall, you're in command of this wing." she added, almost as if in answer to his unspoken question. <ACK! She did!> David stammered slightly. "What? I..." He calmed himself, with effort. "Yes, Sir." "Sergeant Martuchi, you're his second." The Commander told Tony. After a brief pause, she added, "Didn't you know, Martuchi? You're going to be promoted because of your actions in our last battle." David kept his gaze straight ahead, trying to hide the confusion he felt, as Tony spoke up. "Yes Sir, I knew... I just didn't know _you_ knew yet," The Commander smiled that innocent smile of hers. "I'm your commanding officer, Martuchi. I _recommended_ you for the promotion." Her gaze shifted back to the two new recruits. "You're Marshall's wingman, Corporal Taylor. And you're Martuchi's. Listen to them, and learn from them." David spared a quick glance at Corporal Taylor. She was looking appraisingly at him, and smiling that peculiar smile. He quickly snapped his eyes forwards again. <Oh, man, I don't need this. I don't. I really don't.> He paused a moment. <I don't know the first thing about being a wing leader! I wonder if it's possible to go AWOL on a starship?> The Commander nodded slightly. "Thank you very much for your time, Lady and Gentlemen. There is a formal ceremony for the squadron this afternoon. I expect you all to be there." She turned her gaze on David and said, "Especially you, Sergeant." <What is she, a mind reader?> David asked himself. The Commander held their gazes for a moment. "Dismissed." The four of them saluted, and David waited for the others to leave before he walked through the doorway. As soon as the door closed Tony let out a "whoop" and began slapping David repeatedly on the back. "Congratulations, David!" David offered him a thin smile. "Thanks, Tony. Or should I call you Sergeant Martuchi, now?" Tony placed a finger on his chin, thinking. "Sergeant Martuchi. I like the sound of that. I really do." He laughed. "I guess Tony'll do, though." " Don't let it give you a swelled head, Tony." David glanced sideways at Le'Mone and Taylor. <Oh boy. Now what?> "Well, first off, you two can call me David, I guess." Charles thrust out his hand. "Glad to meet you, David. And I must say that I'm happy to be a member of your wing!" "Glad to hear it." David replied, shaking the corporal's hand. <Damn! He's got a strong grip!> Lauren's smile never wavered. "Pleased to meet you, David." She extended her hand. David hesitated the briefest of moments before taking it. "The pleasure's mine." David sighed and glanced around, trying his best to avoid Lauren's gaze. Then he turned and faced Charles and Lauren. "Have you two been assigned all your equipment?" They both nodded. "How about Veritechs?" They nodded again. "I see...room assignments?" "Not yet." Lauren answered. Charles shook his head. <Well, there's something we can do then.> "Alright, let's head down to billeting and see what we can do about that. Follow me." As he led them down towards the billeting office, David wondered what other surprises awaited him. <Then again, I don't think I want to know.>
Forward to Chapter 14.
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