“Ride of the Valkyrie, Revisited”

[STSF Jumper 0]

02.14.09

USS Excalibur NCC-2004 C

“Ride of the Valkyrie, Revisited”

 

Ens. Jagrissa ‘Jumper’ Honor-Scar

Lower Decks Commissioned Brat

SAR Shuttle Pilot

Location: Battle Perimeter

 

The ongoing skirmish between the Excalibur, the enemy raider base ship, and the Excaliburs Lancelot fighters and the Raider fighters was pell mell and lit up the black with all the respective ships involved continuing to clash as each opposing side tried to gain the upper hand in the battle.

 

Standard field flight procedures typically called for the Search and Rescue shuttles that had been launched in order to assist in the cleanup to maintain a vector holding pattern just at the edge of the battle perimeter. If they were in danger of being fired upon by any of the hostile fighters, then the shuttle pilots and their co-pilots were authorized to defend themselves. But for the most part, the support pilots and their shuttles were to remain on standby and not actively engage in the skirmish. Only after a SAR shuttle got a ping from the transponder of a downed or incapacitated pilot were they authorized to break from the perimeter and jet into the thick of things to either grab the downed bird via a tow line or beam the pilot on board the shuttle if the Lancelot bird was beyond repair or towing capability.

 

Of course, this was Ensign Jumper Honor-Scar we were talking about here, and as usual the enthusiastically ballistic Caitian pilot was re-interpreting the rules; she was not leaving her perimeter position, but she was taking pot shots at any enemy fighters that happened to wing too close to the skirmish perimeter established by the deployed SARs. The results had been fifty fifty: one of the Lancelot jocks had not been happy with what he referred to over the communications wireless as her “interference”, yet another one of the fighter pilots had flashed her runner lights and dipped her wings to acknowledge Jumpers gunner assistance from the Caitians semi-fixed spot on the perimeter.

 

“Uh, sir, I really don’t think you should be … “

 

“Your concern is noted, but don’t worry about it Midshipman; just keep a visual eyeball on that transponder tracking program.”

 

The tawny furred feline and her fellow pilot sat in silence for a few moments, each of them checking and double checking their readings and equipment, wondering with some excitement if their SAR would be pinged for a rescue, yet also hoping that none of the lance pilots were seriously hurt.

 

Then, the decision was made for them and two incoming transponders pinged the shuttles tracking systems; both Jumper and her co-pilot wingman glanced at the screen set in between their respective consoles to get a visual on what the tracker programs were showing them. The ID numbers showed in red on the grid overlay and were the designations for two of the Lancelot pilots, located on the far side of the skirmish.

 

Honor-Scar spoke into the wireless headset built into her helmet. “This is Jumper on SAR 411 to Wrong Way and Off Ramp. It looks as if you boys ran into some issues. Hang tight and we’re on our way, Jumper out.”

 

Then the tawny furred felinoid pilot turned her attention to her co-pilot, her fanged smile of glee showing through her clear helmet faceplate. “Let’s rock out, as you humans say. But, I think we can use some battle music first.”

 

A gloved paw flicked a control on the cockpits main dashboard, and some sort of graph chart appeared on a smaller, secondary console screen. Shortly thereafter, a stream of music could be heard filtering from the on board audio speakers.

 

And so, as the “Ride of the Valkyries” - an ancient Earth musical composition that a former roommate of Jumpers had always claimed was perfect to play for any pilots racing into battle - blared over the cockpit loudspeakers, Honor-Scar jetted Shuttle 411 straight out to the black of space and into the thick of things with a yowled battle cry of her own echoing across the pilot wireless.

 

Her midshipman grade co-pilot and gunner was a tall and gawky human male youngling by the name of Palmer who flew with the call sign of Ducky and who hadn’t quite filled out into his full adult weight. Palmer was completing his final piloting training stint in the field by serving on the Excalibur and was trying to offer cautionary comments to the slightly more senior Caitian support pilot, but he was gently shushed by Honor-Scar and told to enjoy the ride and sight down on any incoming hostile birds per his assigned duties.

 

“Whoa! Whoa!”

 

“Uh, sir, you might want to not fly … ‘

 

“Oh my dear gods.”

 

“Why are we going through here? Do you really need to use that random floating asteroid to our advantage?”

 

“And why are we going upside down?! Testing the inertial dampeners aside, there is nothing wrong with employing a straight line sir!”

 

“Sir, I don’t think we have authorization for … “

 

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!”

 

In space, no one can hear you scream.