Rollins leaned back on the reception area bench, staring up at the high ceiling of the Inner City's administration building. He felt a sense of reverence wash over him as he contemplated the man who had long departed from this world but remained his unwavering Commander-In-Chief in spirit. The weight of responsibility settled on his shoulders, urging him to honor the legacy left behind.
As Rollins was lost in his thoughts, a voice resonated through the rooms. "Mr. Rollins," called out Dr. Huer. The elderly scientist approached with a warm smile, beckoning Rollins to sit beside him.
"Please, my dear friend," Dr. Huer insisted gently, gesturing towards an empty spot on the bench. "Take a moment to rest your weary legs and share with me some information on your space program."
Rollins obliged, settling down beside the chief scientist and feeling a sense of relief wash over him as he finally had the opportunity to discuss the progress and challenges of their space program with someone as knowledgeable and experienced as this man called Dr. Huer.
"America's credibility as a space power now hinges on the success of the Icarus II mission," Dr. Hasslein had emphasized to the President, as Rollins shook his head in an attempt to recall that momentous meeting in the Oval Office. It felt like just four years ago according to his body clock, but in reality, it had been a staggering 505 years since the original Icarus expedition. The mission's objective was clear - to locate and, with any luck, bring back alive the lost crew of that voyage.
"The revelation of a lone whistleblower at Consolidated Dynamics, exposing the numerous defects in our greatest space technology achievement, had ignited a public outcry. Many people questioned whether our space program had spiraled out of control, urging America to redirect its attention towards pressing domestic issues," remarked Rollins.
Rollins remembered Richard Nixon, already two years into his second term, seated behind the iconic desk that had been utilized by every president since Wilson. As he listened to Dr. Hasselien's discourse, it became evident that Nixon's reaction was characterized more by reluctant acceptance rather than enthusiastic agreement.
"President Nixon's enthusiasm for the space program ever since he took office back in '69 was all but nonexistent," Rollins explained. "There was just no political benefit for him. He believed that history would give all the credit for getting America to the Moon ahead of the Russians to J.F.K. and that went for anything else we'd do in space."
Dr. Huer asked Rollins, "Was that all that was bothering him?"
"More or less," Rollins replied. "He made no bones about pulling the plug on NASA once the Moon missions were complete."
"How did Dr. Hasselein stop him?"
"By urging Nixon to read some files he had before he went through with it," Rollins went on. "You see, America actually had two separate space programs, the latter beginning with the full blessing of J.F.K. back in 1961."
"Well, I must say, that's a fascinating revelation, Mr. Rollins, but...." Huer hesitated, not sure he wanted to know, ".....how was it funded, and why?"
"A lot of companies believed that they could get rich tapping the resources of the great beyond, so they discreetly funneled untold billions of dollars into developing spaceflight technologies that would have made every aspect of the national space program seem insignificant in an instant. They also paid for the training of a whole new group of astronauts kept out of the public eye, like me, Brent, and Taylor."
"And Dr. Hasselein was solely in charge of this?"
"Why not?" said Rollins. "He met all of the qualifications. He knew that the time for public revelation of the secret space program would come in the wake of the first landing on the Moon by Apollo XI."478Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡKbFf8ulZyQ
Dr. Huer seemed to hang his head in sorrow. "It's a painful question, but I have to ask this for information reasons," he said. "Did America's enemies have secret space programs of their own?"
"I'm sorry to say they did," Rollins replied. "Both the Soviet Union and the Red Chinese programs were aimed towards the same goals we had."
"Which meant that America's credibility as a superpower rested on continuing the space program, despite your President Nixon's reluctance to do so," Huer sighed.
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As soon as Huer had learned of Wilma's near-brush with danger, he had immediately rushed down to the Medical Center to check up on the colonel. Concern etched across his face, he navigated through the bustling corridors until he finally reached the lobby. There, he spotted Wilma sitting impatiently, her eyes darting around anxiously.
"Hi," Huer greeted her softly, his voice filled with genuine worry. He swiftly made his way over and settled down next to her, a comforting presence by her side. "Nilsson told me what happened out there. Are you okay now?"
Wilma offered him a reassuring smile, trying to alleviate any concerns he might have. "I'm perfectly fine, Commander," she replied calmly, her voice steady despite the lingering unease in her eyes. "I don't know what happened exactly, but Dr. Eckbar assured me that he would have all the answers in just a few minutes."
"We're in serious trouble if it turns out to be a disease you brought back from Anarchia," Huer exclaimed, his voice filled with concern.
Wilma nodded solemnly, fully aware of the potential consequences. "That's precisely why I cannot afford to take any chances," she replied, her tone resolute. "I must remain here until we receive the test results and determine the nature of this threat."
As they stood in the bustling Medical Center, their anxiety heightened by the urgency of the situation, an urgent announcement echoed through the facility's public address system. "Colonel Deering, please report immediately to Dr. Eckbar," a stern voice commanded.
Wilma's heart skipped a beat as she heard her name being called out over the intercom. The gravity of the situation intensified, and she knew that time was of the essence. With a determined expression on her face, she swiftly made her way towards Dr. Eckbar's office.
The physician was waiting for them when they entered, his white lab coat pristine and his stethoscope draped around his neck. He had been holding several charts at his side, flipping through them anxiously as he awaited their arrival. But as Huer and Wilma walked into the room, the doctor's expression transformed into one of total incredulity. It was a look that surpassed any level of disbelief he had ever experienced before.
"Eckbar?" Huer furrowed his brow, exchanging a concerned glance with Wilma as they took their seats in front of the doctor's cluttered desk. "Do you have the results finished?" he asked, trying to hide the worry in his voice.
The Chief Medical Officer blinked slightly when he noticed Dr. Huer sitting beside Wilma. "Oh...Dr. Huer. I didn't realize you'd be here," he stammered, his surprise evident in his voice.
Dr. Huer, the commander of Earth's Defense Directorate, folded his arms and leaned back in his chair. His stern expression conveyed a sense of urgency and concern. "I came over as soon as I heard about what happened out there," he stated firmly, his tone commanding attention.
"Wilma, you've got a clean bill of health as far as I can tell," Eckbar said, his voice filled with reassurance.
The relief in Wilma's eyes was palpable as she let out a sigh. Finally, some good news after the terrifying blackout she had experienced.
"But that doesn't explain why I had the blackout," Wilma said, her voice tinged with concern. She couldn't shake off the fear of it happening again, especially when she least expected it. "If I can't get a guarantee that won't happen again, you'll have to ground me."
Eckbar furrowed his brow, understanding the gravity of Wilma's request. He knew how much flying meant to her; it was her passion and livelihood. Grounding her would not only affect her career but also dampen her spirit. He pondered for a moment before responding.
Right away, they noticed how uncomfortable Eckbar seemed. He bit his lip and looked around, as if to see if anyone else in his office was in earshot. The tension in the room grew palpable as Dr. Huer's frown intensified, demanding an explanation.
"Ummm, Wilma, Dr. Huer, that's not exactly all," Eckbar finally managed to stammer out, his voice trembling with unease. The weight of his words hung heavy in the air, leaving everyone on edge.
"What?" Dr. Huer's voice was stern and impatient. "Eckbar, if you've got something to say, say it."
Eckbar hesitated for a moment before motioning towards the door. "Follow me," he said quietly, gesturing towards the hallway outside his office. "My laboratory."
Curiosity mingled with concern as Wilma and Dr. Huer exchanged puzzled glances but decided to trust Eckbar's urgency.
Huer and Wilma exchanged bewildered glances, their curiosity piqued as they followed Eckbar into the small private room that he maintained as his personal laboratory. The room was dimly lit, with shelves filled to the brim with an assortment of scientific equipment and peculiar gadgets. The air carried a faint scent of chemicals, hinting at the countless experiments that had taken place within those walls.
As soon as they stepped inside and the door closed behind them, Eckbar wasted no time in settling himself behind his imposing computer console. The console itself was a marvel to behold, adorned with an array of blinking lights and intricate buttons. It seemed to hum with energy, reflecting Eckbar's dedication to his work.
With a deep breath, Eckbar prepared himself for what lay ahead. His eyes darted across the numerous screens that surrounded him, displaying complex data and graphs that only he could decipher.
"Wilma, I need you to understand the extent of my efforts to ensure that what I discovered wasn't a mere glitch in the system or an elaborate prank orchestrated against me. I dedicated an additional half-hour meticulously cross-referencing and verifying every piece of information. Yet, no matter how many times I double-checked, the outcome remained unchanged. It is with a heavy heart and a trembling voice that I share these findings with you."
He paused for a moment, allowing the weight of his words to sink in before continuing. His eyes locked onto theirs, conveying both empathy and urgency as he struggled to find the right words.
"According to these tests," he finally managed to say, his voice laced with a mix of disbelief and concern, "Wilma, there's no denying it... You're..."
"I'm what?" Wilma's voice trembled with anxiety as the words hung in the air.
"Pregnant," Ekbar said, his voice steady but filled with empathy.
Wilma and Huer scrutinized Ekbar, desperately searching for any sign that this was some kind of sick joke.
"What's more," Ekbar exclaimed, his voice filled with a mix of excitement and astonishment, "this groundbreaking test indicates that fertilization took place within the last week, Colonel. It's truly remarkable! This is the earliest phase our state-of-the-art equipment is capable of detecting these things." The room fell silent as everyone absorbed the magnitude of this revelation.
Ekbar continued, his eyes gleaming with curiosity, "And that, Colonel, was the cause of your recent dizzy spell in the starfighter. Ordinarily, such symptoms would manifest much later in a pregnancy. However, for some inexplicable reason, it hit you very early on. This discovery is unprecedented in the annals of Inner City medicine."
Huer's eyes widened as he stared at his subordinate, his mind struggling to comprehend the gravity of the situation unfolding before them. The initial shock that had gripped Wilma was now being replaced by a sickening realization, slowly seeping into her consciousness like a poison. It was as if a veil had been lifted, revealing a truth that she never could have fathomed.
As they both stood there, transfixed by the image displayed on Ekbar's computer monitor, time seemed to stand still. The room fell into an eerie silence, broken only by the faint hum of machinery and the sound of their own shallow breaths. The weight of what they were witnessing pressed heavily upon them, threatening to crush their spirits and shatter their sense of reality.
Wilma's trembling hand reached out instinctively towards her abdomen, as if seeking reassurance or perhaps trying to grasp hold of some semblance of control over this unimaginable turn of events.
"Wilma," Huer finally managed to speak, his voice trembling with disbelief. "Who...?" He struggled to find the words, his mind reeling as he tried to comprehend the enormity of the situation.
The blonde colonel, her usually composed demeanor shattered, stared off into space, her thoughts consumed by a whirlwind of confusion and regret. She couldn't help but wonder what she had done to deserve this cruel twist of fate. It had all started innocently enough - a simple afternoon of respite in the arms of a handsome, blue-eyed primitive. Little did she know that this fleeting moment of passion would lead to an outcome so unimaginable, so far beyond the realm of remote possibility.
As Huer's mind raced with questions and doubts, Wilma's gaze remained fixed on some distant point in the vast expanse of space. How had it come to this? How had their lives become entangled in such an extraordinary way?
"Wilma," Huer's voice was filled with frustration and anger, his usual friendliness completely gone. "There's gonna be hell to pay for this," he muttered under his breath, his mind racing with the implications of the situation.
As the gravity of the situation sank in, Wilma finally managed to gather herself and rise to her feet. Standing tall and composed, she snapped to attention, ready to address her superior. "Permission to speak, sir," she requested, her voice steady despite the turmoil within her.
Huer nodded curtly, acknowledging her request. He knew that whatever Wilma had to say would be important; she was not one to speak out without good reason. As he waited for her to continue, he couldn't help but wonder what new information or insight she might bring forth.
Taking a deep breath, Wilma began to speak. Her words were measured and deliberate as she carefully chose each one. She knew that what she said next could have far-reaching consequences.
"Sir, it wasn't anyone from the Inner City," she sighed, her voice filled with a mix of exhaustion and relief. She stood at ease, her body language reflecting the weight of the information she was about to share. "It was in Anarchia," she continued, her words trailing off as if haunted by the memories. "I found myself there while desperately hiding from those relentless apes."
It required an immense amount of courage for Wilma to summon the strength necessary to recount the events that had unfolded several days ago in the serene embrace of a vibrant jungle, nestled beside the crystal-clear waters of a picturesque lagoon. As she embarked on this arduous journey of reliving her past, she felt as though every word she uttered was an invasion of her innermost self. The incident that had haunted her, one she had desperately tried to bury deep within her soul, was now being forcibly unearthed and laid bare before their eyes. It was a violation unlike any other, as if her very essence was being stripped away with each passing moment. The weight of this burden pressed heavily upon her heart, leaving her feeling exposed and vulnerable in ways she never thought possible. Yet, despite the overwhelming discomfort and emotional turmoil it caused, Wilma knew that sharing her story was a necessary step towards healing and reclaiming control over her own narrative.
"If you realized what I'd been through, you'd understand," her voice was cracking, filled with a mix of vulnerability and gratitude. "That man, he literally saved my life. He became my beacon of hope when all seemed lost." She paused, trying to steady her trembling voice.
"He gave me something to reach out for when I thought I was going to lose my nerve after witnessing the horrifying sight of those apes shooting dead that woman who had taken my uniform." The memory still haunted her, the sound of gunfire echoing in her mind. It was a moment that shattered her sense of safety and left her feeling utterly helpless.
But then he appeared, like a guardian angel amidst the chaos. His presence alone provided solace and strength. "I...I was grateful to him," she continued, her voice wavering with emotion. "Grateful for his courage and kindness in a world that had turned so cruel."
Huer let out a sad sigh and put his hand on Wilma's shoulder. The weight of the situation hung heavily in the air, and he could see the worry etched on her face. "It's okay," he whispered tenderly, his voice filled with reassurance. "It's okay Wilma. I think I can convince the Computer Council to treat this as... well... a normal reaction."
Ekbar awkwardly cleared his throat, trying to gather his thoughts. "Well....that explains why you developed symptoms way earlier than normal cases. It must be some minor side-effect caused by whatever slight differences in physiologies exist between our people and the humans in Eastern Anarchia," he finally managed to say.
Huer furrowed his brow, deep in thought. "But shouldn't the overall health of our people be similar? I mean, we share a lot of genetic similarities with them, don't we?" he asked, looking up at Ekbar with a mix of curiosity and concern.
Ekbar nodded slowly, contemplating Huer's question. "Yes, you're right. Our genetic makeup does bear striking resemblances to that of the Anarchian humans. However, even the smallest variations can have significant consequences when it comes to how our bodies react to certain stimuli or environmental factors." He gracefully rose from his terminal, adjusting the crisp white coat adorning his frame. "I'll leave you two alone for now," he declared, his eyes glancing between the two individuals seated in front of him. With a final nod of encouragement, he turned and made his way towards the door, leaving behind an air of anticipation.
As soon as Ekbar was gone, Huer held Wilma even tighter, feeling her trembling against him. He could sense the weight of guilt and shame that she carried, and he wanted nothing more than to ease her burden.
"It's okay," he whispered softly into her ear, his voice filled with genuine reassurance. "It's okay. You don't have anything to be ashamed about. What happened was beyond your control, Wilma. Buck and Dr. Theopolis will understand that."
Wilma looked up at him with tear-filled eyes, searching for solace in his words. She had always admired Buck and respected Dr. Theopolis, but the fear of their judgment weighed heavily on her heart.
Huer gently brushed away a stray tear from her cheek before continuing, "I promise you, Wilma, I will personally make sure that no one condemns you for what happened. I'll stand by your side and defend you against any unfair criticism or blame."
"But this is something I have to live with for the rest of my life," Wilma sighed, her voice heavy with resignation. She gazed out of the window, her eyes fixated on the world outside as if searching for answers that seemed elusive. The weight of her words hung in the air, a palpable reminder of the burden she carried.
Her mind was flooded with questions, doubts, and a profound sense of injustice. "Oh God, why?" she whispered softly, her voice trembling with a mix of anguish and frustration. It was a plea to an unseen force, an attempt to make sense of the circumstances that had befallen her.
Wilma had always been a strong-willed woman, someone who faced challenges head-on and never backed down. But now, as she grappled with this new reality, she felt a vulnerability creeping into her spirit. The realization that this was not something she could simply overcome or conquer hit her like a tidal wave.
"Sometimes," Dr. Huer said gently, his voice filled with wisdom and understanding, "all it takes is one fleeting moment of unbridled emotions to alter the course of our lives forever."
"Damn!" an edge of bitterness entered her voice. "The last thing I wanted right now was to have a baby, let alone get married."
"You are having a baby, Wilma," Huer said firmly. "Accept that."
Wilma stared up at the computer one more time, her heart sinking with each passing second. The realization of her mistake had finally hit her, and the consequences were now becoming painfully clear. "I guess I'm grounded now," she muttered, her voice filled with a mix of disappointment and frustration.
Huer, her mentor and commander, looked at her with a mixture of concern and disappointment. His voice grew slightly stern as he addressed her, his words cutting through the air like a sharp blade. "Is that all that matters to you, Wilma? Your immediate punishment? Have you even considered the long-term implications of your actions? The future of your career as a hot shot pilot?"
Wilma's eyes widened as Huer's words sank in. She had always prided herself on being an exceptional pilot, pushing boundaries and taking risks that others wouldn't dare to attempt. But now, she realized that her recklessness had not only jeopardized her own future but also the trust that had been placed in her abilities by others.
"How many times does Buck do the kind of thing I did only once?" she muttered under her breath, her gaze fixed on the ground. She couldn't bring herself to meet Huer's eyes, knowing that he would see the guilt and shame etched across her face. The weight of her actions pressed heavily on her conscience, as she contemplated the countless instances where Buck had effortlessly engaged in similar behavior without a second thought.
"A hundred times? A thousand?" she pondered aloud, her voice tinged with a mix of envy and frustration. It seemed as though Buck never had to worry about the consequences at all, effortlessly gliding through life unburdened by remorse or regret. Each time he indulged in reckless behavior, it was as if he possessed an invisible shield that protected him from any repercussions.
As she dwelled on this thought, a wave of bitterness washed over her. How could someone like Buck lead such a carefree existence while she was left grappling with the aftermath of just the smallest of mistakes, constantly burdened by guilt and the weight of her actions.
"Wilma, I understand that you may feel frustrated by the perceived double standards that exist because of your gender. However, it's important for you to rise above these challenges and focus on what is truly best for yourself and the child you are now responsible for," he said, his voice filled with empathy.
Taking a moment to gather his thoughts, he continued, "I want you to remember that your mother faced similar obstacles and yet she managed to overcome them. She never allowed societal expectations to hinder her dreams or limit her potential. In fact, she continued flying starfighters long after you were born."
His words hung in the air, carrying a sense of encouragement and empowerment. He wanted Wilma to realize that she possessed the same strength and determination as her mother. The world might try to impose limitations on her because of her gender, but she had the power within herself to defy those constraints.
Wilma still said nothing for a moment, and then smiled faintly. "Not the way I wanted to make history," she began, her tone laced with a hint of disappointment, "but sometimes life has its own plans." Despite the unexpected turn of events, she couldn't help but adopt a philosophical perspective.
Huer, understanding the weight of Wilma's words, smiled back at her with all the warmth and affection he could summon. It was in moments like these that their bond grew stronger. "That's better," he reassured her, pulling her into another comforting embrace. "Anytime you want to talk, I'll be here for you," he promised sincerely.
As they stood there in each other's arms, time seemed to stand still. The weight of their shared experiences and the challenges they had faced together hung in the air. Wilma knew that Huer was not just offering his presence but also his unwavering support and understanding.
Wilma relaxed as she returned the doctor's warm hug, feeling a sense of relief wash over her. "Thanks," she whispered, grateful for his support and reassurance. The weight of the recent events had been heavy on her shoulders, but this momentary respite allowed her to momentarily forget about the chaos that awaited her outside.
Just as she was about to pull away from the embrace, a sudden beep from the commander's mini-com interrupted their brief moment of solace. Startled, they both turned their attention towards the device, wondering what urgent matter could be demanding their attention now.
"Huer," Wilma called out inquisitively, her voice tinged with concern. The commander's face grew serious as he listened intently to the message that played through the mini-com's speaker. It was General Zorgon's voice.
"We need you in the War Room, Doctor," Zorgon's voice echoed urgently. "We appear to have a new situation with the Draconians."
A sigh escaped Dr. Huer's lips. "What else is in store for us?"
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"You can see for yourself," Zorgon pointed to the scanner, his voice filled with concern. The screen displayed a chaotic scene of flashing red blips, indicating enemy ships closing in on our position. The tension in the control room was palpable as we all realized the gravity of the situation.
"It gets worse," Zorgon continued, his tone dropping even lower. "The Star Fortress on the edge of scanner range has been identified. She's none other than the Infernia, the Draconia's formidable sister ship. And what's more alarming is that she's holding her position there."
"But no signs of a fresh assault commencing?" Huer was astounded.
"None," the general conceded. "We conducted a small test on their perimeter to provoke a reaction. However, it seems they have sealed themselves off completely."
Huer put his hand on his chin and stared intently at the board for a minute. "One thing's for certain," he finally spoke, breaking the silence. "We cannot afford to divert our attention from that Star Fortress even for a moment. If the Infernia is present here, it means Draco himself is on board. He rarely takes charge of military campaigns personally unless he has an extraordinary offensive strategy in mind."
Turning back to Zorgon, Huer continued with determination in his voice, "I want two squadrons to be constantly rotating and positioned as close to that ship as possible. We need to maintain a vigilant watch and be prepared for any unexpected moves or attacks from Draco's forces."
"Yes, Doctor," Zorgon nodded, acknowledging the instructions before walking away. Huer's gaze remained fixed on the board, his mind racing to find a glimmer of hope amidst the chaos. However, an overwhelming sense of dread washed over him as he realized that an immediate and positive resolution seemed elusive.
Huer continued to stare intently at the board, desperately searching for any sign of a potential positive outcome. The weight of the situation bore down on him, leaving him with a sinking feeling that no immediate solution could be found.
"Dr. Huer?" Wilma gently inquired, her voice filled with concern.
It took her superior a half-minute to acknowledge her, his eyes fixed on the holographic display in front of him. Finally, he turned towards Wilma and replied, "Yes?"
"Doctor," her voice held a resolute tone. "I request permission to pilot my starfighter once again and provide protective cover for Shuttlecraft 6."
Huer's eyebrows furrowed in utter bewilderment. "Could you please repeat that? I'm having trouble grasping what you just said."
"You have to let me go back out, Doctor," she pleaded, her determination intensifying with each passing moment. The weight of responsibility pressed heavily upon her shoulders as she realized the gravity of the situation. Not only did the delegation require protection, but they also needed to be fully informed about the dire circumstances unfolding within these walls.
"Wilma…" he started gravely, but the blonde colonel quickly cut him off. Her piercing blue eyes narrowed as she interrupted his sentence, her voice laced with a sense of urgency.
"No buts, Doctor," Wilma firmly stated, her voice laced with determination. "As per the strict regulations set forth, I am unequivocally prohibited from participating in combat flights due to the potential risk it poses to my unborn child. However, it is crucial to note that these regulations do not apply to a mission where I would not be exposed to any imminent danger or threats that could jeopardize my safety."
She paused for effect, her eyes scanning the room as she gathered her thoughts. "And you know," she began, her voice filled with urgency, "that the sooner we take action and ensure some much-needed protection for your party, the better we'll all feel." Her words hung in the air, heavy with a sense of impending danger.
Leaning forward slightly, she continued, her tone now laced with determination. "Dr. Eckbar has been kind enough to provide me with these pills," she revealed, holding up a small bottle for emphasis. "They are specifically designed to prevent another one of those dreadful dizzy spells."
Wilma's words resonated with a sense of responsibility and selflessness. Despite her undeniable skills and expertise as a starfighter pilot, she recognized the paramount importance of safeguarding her unborn child. The weight of this realization pressed heavily upon her heart, yet she remained resolute in her decision.
The regulations were put in place for a reason - to protect both the lives of the pilots and their future generations.
Slowly, Huer nodded in agreement, his expression softening into a faint smile. "Get moving," he said, his voice carrying a commanding edge that conveyed both authority and concern. "And take care of yourself out there." His words were filled with genuine care for her well-being, a testament to the bond they had formed over the years.
She returned his satisfied smile, her eyes gleaming with determination. The trust and respect she held for Huer were evident in her unwavering loyalty. With a quick nod, she wasted no time in sprinting out of the War Room, her footsteps echoing down the corridor as she embarked on her mission.
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