Flight of the Deathwish Viewpoint: Alex Traut It's mid-August, 2009. A year prior, the Earth Defense Corps managed to confiscate an armed private starship, the Commercial Combat Craft _Deathwish_, which belonged to a space trader named Alex Traut. Traut's fury at this went beyond the simple theft of property: the _Deathwish_ computer systems were run by an AI he had programmed himself, an AI whose personality template and matrices were patterned after a prior love of his. Alex Traut became determined to reacquire his starship at any cost... and to have his revenge on the EDC for violating the _Deathwish_. Most of all, he sought revenge on Steve Michaels... the EDC Commander who had taken to using the _Deathwish_ as his personal shuttle. With his growing control over the black-market cartel known as the Merchant Republic, Traut felt that the time was right to make his move... and so he traveled to John Fitzgerald Kennedy Spaceport, where the _Deathwish_ was temporarily berthed... Alex Traut cautiously makes his way across the tarmac, flanked by three men and a woman. All four of his escorts are wearing expensive, tailored suits, and the net effect is to make him appear much like a traveling businessman, an effect augmented by the fact that Traut walks as if he belongs there. He isn't exactly approaching the Deathwish, but instead walks up to a ship about forty meters away, inspecting the grounded merchant cruiser casually. The EDC guards look over casually, weapons at rest and safeties on currently...apparently this is soft duty. One of the guards begins to drift over towards Traut's group. Alex Traut takes a datapad from his pocket, apparently taking notes and checking some of the ship's functions against what he expects. As one of the EDC guards approaches, he looks up and gives the drifter a curt nod, appearing a bit too busy for this distraction. "Can I help you, Captain?" he asks, deliberately misreading the rank insignia. The guard makes a grimace, thinking inwardly. 'stupid civilian' and says. 'Corporal sir. This area is off limits for non-EDC personnel, can I help you?" Alex Traut gives the Corporal one of those looks that belong on the faces of kings, his nose apparently of an altitude appropriate for ozone layer depletion. "Since when am I prevented from doing a preflight checklist on my own freighter? The _Lusitania_ is due to lift in two hours, and--" He cuts off as his datapad and scanner beep insistently for his attention, and scowls. "That's odd. Take a look at this, Corporal, and tell me if I'm reading this right." He holds the datapad up for inspection. The corporal huhs? and looks closer. "I don't see..." Alex Traut scratches his ear slightly. At this, Traut steps back, and flicks his wrist imperceptibly. A slender stiletto drops down into his hand, and with barely any sound, he slips the blade into the Corporal's back through one of the seams in the body armor, penetrating the left lung. The Corporal makes a wet gurgling noise, scrabbling weakly for his sidearm... One of the other guards, who was watching what was happening out of boredom, blinks and stands straighter, picking up his rifle. 'What the hell..??" Alex Traut grabs the soldier around the neck, holding his victim in front of himself as a shield. Instantly, all four of his bodyguards spread out, taking cover behind the landing gear of the _Lusitania_ as they whip out Wesson & Sony variable-beam laser rifles, the short model with no stock. As Alex ducks from cover to cover, making it appear as if the Corporal is his hostage, the air fills with hot crimson laserfire. EDC guard swears loudly and dives for cover, grabbing for his communicator. "Alert, alert, this is Simmons out at the impound area, I'm under attack!!' EDC guard raises his rifle and pops a spray of fire back, but mostly just stays undercover. A siren starts to sound off from the main complex. The suits display remarkable duck-and-fire tactics for what appears to be a cadre of businessmen, raking their fire across where the guards are taking cover. One of them ducks for a moment, and hurls a small cylindrical object across the intervening distance, which clatters to the ground several meters behind the EDC soldiers and begins hissing loudly. The guards scatter rapidly, several coughing as they draw sidearms, firing mostly to keep the attackers heads down. Alex Traut quickly takes advantage of the distraction, ducking carefully from one set of landing gear to another... finally drawing close to the Deathwish and taking cover behind the EDC guards' own vehicle, waiting for an opportune moment. Drawing his own sidearm, he unceremoniously drops the dead Corporal to the ground, grimacing at the blood on his flight jacket. Steve Michaels rounds the ship at almost the same moment, jogging rapidly as he reaches for his sidearm, then draws it rapidly as he nearly runs into Traut. Alex Traut whirls as he hears footsteps, his right arm whipping up and around to end up aiming his pistol point-blank directly in Steve's face, arm straight and true... and finds himself staring equally down the barrel of his opponent's weapon, the two of them locked in a deadly mutual showdown of will. "Who the hell are you?" Traut snarls. Steve Michaels's eyes narrow. "Commander Steve Michaels. Pleased ta meetcha. Don't move, or I'll blow your head off." Alex Traut stares down the notched ends of his Ingram machine pistol's sights, fixing Michaels with a steely glare that makes it clear: this is not a person on the other end of the pistol. This is an obstacle, a thing. "I could say the same thing, choomb. My boys are going to make short work of yours, and then you're gonna be in deep kimchee. Care to bust a wager on it?" Steve Michaels' pistol is a nonstandard model, a .45 caliber that looks made for his hand, the barrel black below the sight. He smiles slowly. "In a minute this place will be swarming with EDC troopers. Your people will be busted. And what makes you think you can fire without me hitting you first?" Steve Michaels says, "At this range..I'm not gonna miss." Alex Traut grins. "I ain't worried, choomb. See yonder Cougar Mk2 over there? That's my girl... and we're about to head outta your little burg, friend." He pitches his voice to carry above the laserfire. "TASHA!" A feminine voice emits from the ship's external speakers, "Identify." Several sirens get closer and closer as jeeps with armed troopers being roaring out from the main terminal area, converging on the impound yard. Alex Traut shouts, "This is Alex, girl! Wake up, and open the hatch, we've got a sitch!" The same voice emits, "Negative. Alex Traut is dead." Steve Michaels smiles faintly. "That ship's the wrong one to steal. Her owner died, according to her manifest, when he was off her." Alex Traut tightens his grip on his machine pistol, twitching slightly as he applies about a half-ounce more pressure to the trigger. "That's crap! Tasha, this is *me*. Damnit, I *coded* you, girl! If you thought I was dead, why didn't you detonate your energon tanks?" If anyone bothered to notice, both the EDC soldiers and the four suits seem to have managed to eliminate each other quite nicely. Steve Michaels's finger tightnes a bit on the revolver. "Give up now before you and your people get killed. The voice from the starship emits, sounding slightly more unsure, "That's... not possible. Alex Traut died of natural causes, according to records in Washington DC memorial hospital." Steve Michaels nods slightly. 'That's right....the ship was impounded after he didn't check in for several months and no relative arrived to claim it. So, 'Mr. Traut', you're a bit late. Now just drop the gun." Alex Traut shouts, his tone formal, if hurried, as he hears the sirens draw closer. "Tasha! This is Alexander Matthew Traut, authorization code Sierra Foxtrot X-Ray Delta Niner Four Seven! Verify voiceprint and accept!" There is an uncomfortably long pause, where the only sound is the approach of sirens. Finally... the underbelly hatch on the Commercial Combat Craft _Deathwish_ depressurizes with a hiss, and lowers to the ground. "Identity verified." Another pause, this one much shorter. "Welcome back... my friend." Steve Michaels mutters. "I'll be damned..." Alex Traut darts his eyes nervously to the approaching soldiers, and solidifies his aim on Steve's chest, slowly backing towards the Deathwish. Steve Michaels cocks his revolver. "You and I haven't finished, Mr. Traut." Alex Traut maintains the arrow-straight invisible line that his arm forms, the one that intersects squarely with the chest of his opposite number. "Oh, you have no idea, choomb," he shouts over the noise, backing slowly up the ramp. "You got no fraggin' idea what world o' kimchee you just bought yourself into. Give my regards to your Corporal Anson." His eyes momentarily dart to the body on the ground beside Michaels. Steve Michaels' eyes narrow. "You're a dead man for that." Steve Michaels says, "I'll hunt you all over this system, Traut." Alex Traut grins. "I look forward to slitting your throat." And with this, he quickly ducks the rest of the way up the gangplank, leaping into the depths of the ship. Distantly, his voice can be heard echoing from inside. "Close the damned ramp already, Tash! Get us outta here!" Steve Michaels grabs his communicator, and runs for the nearby aerospace fighter. Alex Traut cycles through the pressure doors, and enter the forward cabin. The Deathwish's engines roar to life, the white energon plants powering up and filling the air with a steady, numbing thrum. Steve Michaels climbs the ladder for the Sky-Skimmer quickly, as several jeeps pull up, he points at the Deathwish and shouts something. EDC guards open fire on the Deathwish with small arms. The Deathwish's landing gear slowly retracts into its safe bay, the panels sliding over to cover them in the seamless black underside. Red alert lights flash around the perimeter. Most of the small-arms fire spangs off the carbon-steel armor of the Deathwish. A few of the laser blasts score the armor, but apparently very little fired from human hands will break through. As the Deathwish rises into the air, it slowly turns to face towards the EDC guards taking cover behind a marked humvee. With a sudden startling movement, the smooth black skin of the Deathwish develops two cracks, one on each underside of the wings. In eerie silence, twin mass accelerator cannons extend from their recessed slots, and lock into place. Steve Michaels hops down into the aerospace fighter, powering up its main turbines. From the outer speakers of the Deathwish, Traut's voice blasts out across the tarmac. "Wish I could stay and play, Officer Michaels... but I'm afraid I have a date in Brussels with a rather attractive blonde. Give my best to Commander Missy." As the intercom terminates with a resounding click, the mass accelerator cannons roar into life, shredding EDC soldiers and hummers with equal ease, the effect being equivalent to a shotgun firing baseballs at kinetically impressive speeds. The Deathwish rocks with the return fire, shifting to one side as a rocket spends most of its energy on the armor itself, very little getting through. The ship wheels with remarkable agility for a craft of its size, climbing into the air and aiming its nose squarely at the aerospace fighter. Part of the Deathwish's hull shifts slightly, the underbelly spawning a small bay from which a bright light sparks, an object lancing out at the smaller fighter. The Sky-Skimmer shifts to the side, avoiding the rocket, then streaking off after the Deathwish. The Skimmer opens up its engines, military grade engines rapidly gaining. The Deathwish has no chance of outrunning the faster and more agile aerospace fighter, and apparently the pilot knows it... because he flies the ship barely fifty meters above ground level, soaring towards the coast. The fighter follows, trying to get a lock on the slower civilian vessel with its forward nose laser. The Deathwish neatly evades, jigging to starboard and allowing the laserfire to impact the city below. Curving northwards, the Deathwish rises well above rooftop level, and in a daring move, actually soars towards the towering skyscrapers of New York City. The Sky-Skimmer roars in pursuit, dropping slightly to target upwards, the first laser blast luckily only vaoprizing a stray poodle, and tries to get a second lock. The thrusters on the larger starcraft roar into action, afterburners blazing as the Deathwish attempts to maneuver past the skyscrapers that pass at blinding speeds. The fighter rolls on its side, skimming between the buildings as the windows on the skyscrapers shake and rattle at the roar of engines, a few shattering, but holds it's fire..however the missile lock lets you know EXACTLY what will happen the moment you're clear of the buildings. The Deathwish descends as it clears the largest of the skyscrapers, passing over the suburbs. The fighter risks a shot with laserfire again, sliding down so its firing up, so misses will disappate harmlessly in the atmosphere. The larger starcraft suddenly whirls in midair, taking advantage of its antigravity engines to perform a 180-degree spin that a normal winged aircraft could never have attempted. A piercing tone fills the helmet of Steve Michaels, a tone that every aviator learns to dread. As that tone climbs to a crescendo, the underside of the Deathwish's wings become a blaze of light, thousands of magnetically-accelerated baseball-sized projectiles hammering out a staccato beat. Michaels snap rolls out of the path of the vessel's spray of mass driver projectiles, pockmarked craters smacking along the ground sending sprays of dirt and asphalt into the air. Screams begin to fill the evening air of New York, screams that mercifully go unheard by either pilot. Steve Michaels transmits a message to Alex Traut: "You're a dead man." A news helicopter is circling at a respectable distance, the three-seater with its open bay door apparently carrying a cameraman and one passenger. The fighter's nose laser opens up again, the pilot delberately sticking to weapons that won't strike the ground if they miss, attempting to disable the ship. Alex Traut transmits a message to Steve Michaels: "I've got no worries, Michaels. I hope your pension is current." The Deathwish jigs to port swiftly, the laser dispersing before striking the ground on its new setting. Peeling off, wary of being a sitting target, the starcraft rockets straight up, another recessed panel opening on its underbelly, the threat tone sounding in the radio of the aerospace fighter as a missile lock is achieved. Heedless of the civilian populace, the starcraft lets the bird fly. The fighter jinks, holding still as the rocket tracks in towards it, then shifts up, waiting untilt he rocket is about ot strike, then suddenly cuts its engines, the rocket streaking throught he space it just occupied and flying up to explode far up into the air. Annoyed at the repeated misses, the Deathwish's pilot kicks in the burners again, heading towards the safety of international airspace. The EDC fighter pursues, accelerating after the larger ship. The fighter aims lower, trying to send a burst of laserfire into the bottom of the craft and perhaps hit the rocket launcher. The Deathwish is fleeing at full flank speed now... equivalent to a comfortable cruising speed for the aerospace fighter pursuing it. Slowly, surely, the Deathwish begins arcing upwards, its flight path stabilizing as it kicks in its starflight engines and cuts into the airspace above the Spaceport. Its course barely even budges as the laserfire scores its underbelly, wrecking the covering armor for one of the four remaining rockets and rendering it useless. Its altitude slowly rising, the Deathwish enters the airspace above J.F.K. Spaceport. The fighter accelerates, roaring up after the departing ship. The pilot of the pursuing fighter risks a shot as the two ships roar over the open area of the landing field, locking a rocket on the engines. The Cougar Mk2 starcraft ascends, mindless of the other air traffic which must move or be moved, and achieves a nearly vertical angle, climbing into the evening sky as its starflight engines thunder into their full capacity. The ship rocks with the impact of the rocket, which could hardly miss with the IR signature of such engine power, and annihilates one of the auxilliary thrusters, reducing the ship's speed by a minute but noticeable degree. Nevertheless, the starship continues rising towards the stars. The Sky-Skimmer manages to tag the larger ship with a rocket as they both race over the open areas of the runways and landing pads. The fighter accelerates rapidly, its pilot not holding back anymore as the ship pulls clear of the atmosphere and any chance of civilian casualties...it begins to quickly close the difference into optimum weapons range. Now in its element, the Deathwish wheels on the Sky-Striker as it finally clears the atmosphere. It's amazing how the dead silence of space can enhance combat... everything visual is magnified. The swift recession of the protective panel over one of the rockets. The noiseless movement on the underside of the ship as the weapon is ejected from its home. And the magnesium flare of light as its liquid-fuel engine sends it homing towards the target it now recognizes. Alex Traut transmits a message to Steve Michaels: "You've only come to seal your fate, Michaels. I'm going to enjoy watching you burn up on re-entry." The aerospace fighter slides its wings back close to its body, not needing the aerodynamic surfaces anymore, silent argent fires appearing along the fighters main body as it nimbly dodges the rockets. Steve Michaels transmits a message to Alex Traut: "That piece of junk won't take much, Traut. Better surrender while I'll give you the chance." The fighter's electromagnetic mass drivers begins to spin, sending flickers of light at the opponent craft, resolving themselves into tiny silvery balls of metal. Alex Traut transmits a message to Steve Michaels: "This 'piece of junk' has been through more scraps and more alien star systems than you could ever dream of, desk jockey. Firing that thing at me is like trying to kill an elephant with a twelve-gauge: all you accomplish is pissing it off." Its stardrive blazing, the Deathwish begins adjusting its orbit, heading towards the Eastern Hemisphere of Earth. The Sky-Skimmer shifts as its main engines send it rocketing forward, arcing under the larger craft for a strafing run along its sides. Steve Michaels transmits a message to Alex Traut: "This is the last star system it'll be flying in." Alex Traut transmits a message to Steve Michaels: "You know, I think you're right. I may just keep it here and decide to use it when I level the EDC facility you maintain in Cairo." Steve Michaels transmits a message to Alex Traut: "You won't live that long." The fighter cycles its rockets, a WHINE coming through the headset of the Deathwish's pilot as the laser heads get a good look at its engine signature. The Deathwish continues on its course, not bothering to turn around as it makes good time in its altered orbit, slowly meandering across the thousands of kilometers that separate it from the Eastern Hemisphere. Alex Traut transmits a message to Steve Michaels: "By the way, thanks for the laser lightshow. The solar capacitor cells needed a recharge." A pair of small objects detach from the pursuing fighter, dropping away, then suddenly accelerating towards the larger ship. The Deathwish simply continues on its course, not even evading this time... instead counting on physics. The pair of rockets streak towards the larger Cougar Mk2, and seem about to hit it... until the Coriolis effect draws them ever so slightly off their target. The projectiles soon become imperceptible specks against the cloudy backdrop. Twin soundless explosions appear in the atmosphere moments later. Suddenly altering course, the Deathwish spins, bringing the single mass driver cannon on its aftdeck to bear. The turret whirls and locks on target, the computer-aided guidance system counting on the aerospace fighter's rapid approach to do half of its kinetic work for it. A blur of silvered specks catch the reflected sunlight for a brief moment. Alex Traut transmits a message to Steve Michaels: "You're not a bad pilot in that thing, Michaels. I could use someone like you... and I pay a lot better than the EDC, I'll wager." Steve Michaels transmits a message to Alex Traut: "Sorry, I like my health plan. And I'm not a killer like you." Alex Traut transmits a message to Steve Michaels: "The last refuge of the weak of mind. I'll remember to have it engraved as your epitath." The fighter arcs around, this time coming up behind your ship, the heat of the engines giving the targeting systems a better lock as it slows to fire, mass driver pods again sending a silver rain forward, reflecting the light of the sun as the speeds onwards, the fighter accelerating again forwards. Steve Michaels transmits a message to Alex Traut: "Overconfidence and pride come before a fall, Traut." The Deathwish barely even seems to notice the barrage, the metallic balls vaporizing in the starlike heat of the starship's drive flame. A few stray off course and pockmark the ship's armor, but none seem to penetrate. Alex Traut transmits a message to Steve Michaels: "Michaels, Michaels. Now, this wouldn't happen to be Steve Michaels, would it? Or is there another EDC pilot with a soapbox that big?" Steve Michaels transmits a message to Alex Traut: "So we know each others name, hmm? Good for you, I'm thrilled." Alex Traut transmits a message to Steve Michaels: "I know far more about you than your name, now that I know it's you. A person would be surprised how much information is available publicly... and not so publicly." The fighter vectors on the larger ship, closing the distance again. Steve Michaels transmits a message to Alex Traut: "I'm flattered you care. Hold still, this won't take long." The Deathwish falls into an approach vector, and begins descending into the atmosphere, the distinctive shape of Africa visible below as he heads towards the Eastern Hemisphere. The fighter's wings slowly extend back out, sliding forward and locking in place as it reconfigures for aerial combat. The Deathwish descends quickly, its the ceramic coating of its carbon-steel armor resisting the heat of re-entry... except at the points where the mass driver of the aerofighter has pocked it. Tiny contrails of steam trail behind the starcraft as minute portions of its armor heat up. The fighter completes reconfiguring, then with a rumble a missile drops away from it and accelerates on a collision course with the rear of the larger ship. Alex Traut transmits a message to Steve Michaels: "You can't chase me forever, Officer Michaels! It's not going to take a whole lot longer for me to enter friendly airspace... and at that point you're going to have a world of problems on your hands." The fighter rolls into a slow spin, rearranching itself to fall downwards, its heat tiles on the front o fthe craft absorbing the friction from the atmosphere and giving you a little time before it can fire again. The Deathwish passes through the ionosphere, soaring downwards and standing down its stardrive as it heads straight for the continent of Africa. The tiny contrails on the underside slowly peter out as the heat diminishes, and the rear turret attempts to gain a lock on the Sky-Striker. The fighter is just beginning its turnover, dropping its nose down as the Deathwish targets it. The Deathwish seems to keep losing its target lock as it plummets through the cloud cover, the systems still recovering from the re-entry. The EDC fighter completes the flip over and roars downards, again closing on you as a spray of mass driver fire sprays at the Deathwish, every third round a tracer. The Deathwish sparks wildly as the steel rounds finally bite in, penetrating the starboard wing and damaging the mass driver underneath it. Winging over, the starcraft kicks in its afterburners, and heads on a southerly course at a frenetic pace. The Deathwish is trailing twin streamers of smoke, and is burning a path to the west, flying low in hopes of getting lost in the ground clutter. The last missile just under the main fusealge of the Sky-Striker comes online, the seeker head scanning for a target...then finding it as it leaps forward, streaking at the other vessel. The carriage of the Deathwish shudders under the impact, a small explosion rocking the ship as one of the five remaining engines detonates, the explosion damaging the one beside it in the process. Losing altitude, the Cougar Mk2 aims itself for the safety of Merchant Republic airspace. The fighter follows, the plume of smoke from the exploded engines making it easy to keep close, the laser nose gun targeting up as several snap shots spin past, strking the forest below. A warning tone sounds in Steve Michaels' helmet, notifying him of SAM batteries in the jungle below which are tracking his aircraft. The fighter SNAPS up into an immediate evasive as the rockets fly up at him it, trying desperately to avoid the SAM targeting computers. Alex Traut transmits a message to Steve Michaels: "That's right, Michaels... better shag it! You're not in Kansas anymore, flyboy!" The Deathwish descends nearly as fast as it flies, but manages to make it towards friendly airspace. The Sky-Skimmer breaks off, skimming along the ground as it opens up its engines to break teh sound barrier, skimming out of range. Steve Michaels transmits a message to Alex Traut: "I'll be back, Traut. You're a wanted man now, you and your ship." At this point, the Deathwish landed safely in the Merchant Republic... while the EDC Sky-Striker fled the SAM barrage and headed for the safety of the United States. ================================== Reports =================================== Message: Posted Author Firefight Over New York Worldwide News Network ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ The logo of the Worldwide News Network appears, interrupting a rather blase episode of a popular talk show. The image of Deborah Wallace, the WWNN's domestic correspondent, appears in the holograph field, backlit by several fires dwindling in what is instantly recognizable as downtown New York. Confidently, Wallace begins speaking. "Today, the skies of New York city were aflame with the worst kind of excitement. What you see behind me is all that remains of the Summit Apartments, one of three buildings which was devastated as an air battle raged over suburban and downtown New York. An unidentified aircraft dueled for five minutes with an aerospace fighter, allegedly piloted by Commander Steve Michaels of the EDC. This battle sent a rain of subsonic pellets down on the city, and one errant rocket even took out the building you see behind me." Deborah Wallace pauses dramatically, as the holograph fades into a shaky picture, apparently footage daringly shot from the side door of a helicopter... Deborah Wallace's voiceover continues, narrating the footage from the bay door of the news helicopter. Downtown New York is visible below, while two aircraft--one the size of a normal fighter jet, and the other significantly larger--exchange firepower across the sky. "It's difficult to tell from this angle who fired which shots. The stray rocket which destroyed this apartment building is confirmed to have come from the larger aircraft, identified as a Galactic model which the EDC refers to as a 'Cougar Mark Two', but the origin of the endless mass driver fire is anyone's guess, as both craft carried similar weapons in that area." "Commander Michaels' aircraft, the Sky-Striker, was last seen pursuing the larger starship straight up into orbit. The result of that pursuit is not known at this time. Although the toll of injured and dead is still unknown, the tragedy of terrorism striking the United States' most famous city has everyone numb with shock... and wondering when death will again rain from the skies. This is Deborah Wallace, Worldwide News Network, New York." ==============================================================================