Fanfic Name / Nombre del Fanfic: Shooting Stars

Chapter / Capitulo: Chapter X

Author / Autor: Cicero_Phelps and KnightsTemplar

Rating / Clasificacion: AP15 (For Teenagers = Para Adolescentes)

Romance

Action / Accion

Alternate Universe / Universo Alterno

Fanfic: Chapter X 
 
It was after dinner, and Rick was putting the finishing touches on his outfit for the evening. “She convinced you to do what, boss,” Max asked, in mock horror. 
“You must really like that gal,” Rodney commented. 
“It’s gotta be the legs, dude,” Alan informed him. “Rick’s always been a leg man.” 
“Har-de-har, guys,” Rick grumbled, swatting them each in turn. “It isn’t exactly my idea of fun, either, but it helped me out a lot last night,” he finished with a grin. 
His roomies groaned. “How do you do it, man,” Ben griped. 
Rick looked in the mirror, straightening his bow tie, and smirked. “It’s called culture, class, and being debonair,” he said. 
“So how does that work for you,” Alan sniped. “You sleep through class, and the only culture you have is the bacteria that covers the dirty dishes in your room.” 
Rick gave him a cool look that suggested Alan had just betrayed him to the Chinese. Then, he raised his left eyebrow and quipped, “This from the man who thought that ‘Rear Admiral’ was a term from an X-rated movie?” 
“Hey, hey, hey,” he defended himself, grimacing at the memory of that particular game of Trivial Pursuit. “Alcohol was involved, get off me.” 
“Sounded just like your last girlfriend there, Alan,” Rodney sniped. 
Alan raised his hands, signaling surrender. “I get it, I get it.” 
“No, Rick got it last night,” Max commented. “You got wet.” 
Everyone rolled their eyes over that, ending the conversation. Rick looked at his watch. “Well, I’m off to the theater,” he commented. “Try not to bring the tomatoes tonight, guys, I’m making homemade pasta sauce tomorrow for our graduation celebration.” 
******** 
“You convinced him to go for it,” the girls cooed. 
“Yeah, I did,” Lisa said, distractedly. At least for the dancing part, she told herself gloomily. 
“Why so glum, chum,” Claudia asked. 
“Not glum,” Lisa reflected. “Just getting nostalgic in advance.” 
“Ah, graduation jitters, I know them well,” Claudia replied, getting animated. “You’ll do just fine, honey. Now, just go out there and break a leg.” 
Lisa looked at the clock; she had to be in the green room in ten minutes. “I’ll see you in the crowd,” she said, grinning and winking. “Don’t wait up for me afterwards.” 
******** 
Rick was seated on the sofa near the far wall of the green room when Lisa entered. They made eye contact, but she couldn’t make the dozen or so steps necessary to cross the room towards him because her friends and co-actors swarmed her with everything from sympathy to outrage over the incident with Karl. 
His head swarmed with emotion; part of him was upset with himself for being so flippant with Lisa about how they would interact from that point forward, but another, more coldly logical, part rationalized that it was wartime. People died in war. If you let yourself get attached to someone, you will feel it that much harder when they die.  
Shaking his head, he knew he was only trying to bullshit himself into fabricating a reason why he shouldn’t go for Lisa. His heart was banged up, he told himself. More like a crash landing on the flight deck without a seatbelt, in reality. But he was increasingly falling for her, step by step, tap by tap. He realized, belatedly, that he had been staring at her legs the entire time she had been crossing the room, and that they seemed to go on forever. He shook himself out of that; there was plenty of time for that later that night, if all went well. 
******** 
Meanwhile, hurtling through space and time, a gigantic spacecraft, with dimensions greater than the human mind could comprehend, began its final approach towards the Earth, dragging with it the seeds for Humanity’s next societal evolution. 
********** 
Lisa glanced longingly at Rick as her female cast mates babbled incoherently about their last-minute costume disasters, how the PX had run out of makeup for the evening, and other such essentials of collegiate urgency. Feigning a run to the ladies room, she finally broke away from the airheads and the suicide blondes (dyed by their own hands) to achieve some security in the solitary stall away from the rest of the world. 
She finally left the stall and crossed to the sink. Looking into the mirror, she took a good, hard look into her soul, and was a little more than slightly upset by what she saw. She’d always heard the rumors about Karl behind her back, but she had refused to believe them even when it was blatantly obvious. How could I have been so blind, she asked herself. Tears threatened to well up inside her as the thought of how humiliated she had been began to overwhelm her, and she fought them back as best she could. 
And what about Rick, she thought. There was a shining, new connection between her and that roguish, almost carefree pilot she had shared her bed and life with. Her eyes never lied to her; she was beginning to feel romantic yearnings for him, it was true, and she thought she could detect a hint of the same returning from him, but wasn’t sure if it was hormonal yearning or emotional instability that dictated those feelings. She fought herself long and hard to suppress those feelings and thoughts for the moment, as there was a show to do and little time left before the second act went up, with her and Rick leading it off. 
********* 
Donald sat in his formal uniform, enjoying the pathetic routine of the Emcee as he massacred his monologue and introduced the acts with all the grace of a condemned man in the crosshairs of a firing squad. Finally, intermission offered a welcome reprieve from the cramped seating arrangements and he went into the foyer to stretch his legs and get some fresh air. He no sooner had gotten to the line for the Men’s room when his communicator went off. “Hayes,” he snorted gruffly. 
“Admiral, where the hell are you,” the grating voice screeched over the line. 
“I told you earlier, Senator Russo, that I was attending my daughter’s ROTC graduation events. Is there something I should be aware of,” he bit out. Donald never had much use for the man who was, de facto, the ruler of the United States; Russo enjoyed as much power as the President in several matters, and he oozed slime from every word he uttered, as far as the Admiral was concerned. 
“As a matter of fact, there is,” Russo thundered back. “Your second in command just informed me that there is a massive object entering our sky. Why wasn’t I told of this earlier?” 
Donald sighed, counted to ten slowly, and said, “Begging your pardon, Senator, but that’s a big-ass sky. Our resources have been focused on the Chinese and Germans, not what NASA’s supposed to watch. Why are you yelling at me instead of them?” 
“Anything in that sky is national security, Hayes, and you should know that…” 
Donald slipped the cover on his communicator shut and went into the Men’s room, glad to be rid of the annoying little man. Besides the past few nights, he hadn’t seen his daughter for a long time, and he intended to make the most out of what little time they could share together. 
******* 
Mauna Loa Observatory, Hawaii- Lieutenant Thomas Barclay poured himself a coffee and sat down at the radar board. The shift between 1800 and 0100 had become boring of late, he reflected as he took a sip. The Chinese offensives of late were being redirected at the Asian landmass and they had taken a decidedly less threatening posture in the Pacific. On top of which, with the summer coming, the weather was improving again to distract most young servicemen with thoughts of summer frolicking and fun. He shook his head, trying to clear the cobwebs as sleep threatened to overtake his mind and body. 
All of a sudden, the waves around the island started picking up, getting larger with each lashing. The tables started to shake, and he saw the coffee spill out of the mug. He looked at the radar screen and saw a huge object coming out of the sky. As the whole installation rumbled, he slapped the klaxon and put in a call to HQ. “Mayday! Mayday! Red Alert, all sections,” he cried out. “Admiral Hayes, please come in!” 
“This is Admiral Hayes’ office,” Lieutenant Hoffman replied. “What’s going on down there, Barclay? Chinese again?” 
“No, sir; at least, I don’t think it’s them. There’s an unidentified object plummeting through the atmosphere, causing tremors and tsunamis. It’s headed towards Pearl, too, so I have no idea what’s going on.” 
“Okay, we’ll get the alert fighters scrambled and find out what’s going on…” the transmission ended in a hiss of static. 
“Hoffman? Hoffman!!!! What’s happening,” Barclay screamed, feeling the shaking overtake the room he sat in. The steel support beams creaked and groaned like steel being tortured beyond its capacity, then the lights went out and he fell to the ground, finding mercy in swift unconsciousness. 
******* 
Eagle One took off from the deck of the Kenesaw in an attempt to get a better look at the bogie that was inbound. The rest of Eagle flight followed suit afterwards, a total of five aircraft to inspect the presumed-hostile target. “Eagle One to base, its hard to see what that thing is,” the pilot said, rocketing towards the unknown object. 
“Base to Eagle One, get as close to that thing as you can and scan it. Make sure the Chinese haven’t bombed us,” the control tower replied. The fighters turned words into actions as they climbed up towards the bogie. Approximately twelve klicks out, however, the fighters were suddenly pushed aside by some sort of jamming frequency, an electromagnetic curtain that threw the planes around like balsa toys. The last words of the pilots before they hit the drink were, “I don’t think this thing is Chinese….AAARGH!” 
******* 
Lisa took Rick by the hand as she led them onto the stage. He looked at her face, saw that she was as nervous as he was, their hearts were in their throats as they stood ready for the second act. Appropriate, he mused. Seems like we’re waiting for the second act of our lives, as well. 
“Guaranteed to leave you jumping for joy and bringing down the house, here comes Rick Hunter and Lisa Hayes doing ‘Putting on the Ritz,” the Emcee said. The curtain drew up as the lights went down, and Rick gave Lisa a peck on the cheek before the audience saw them. The music started, and they began walking stylishly around the stage, strutting like millionaires. Lisa tapped to the side, then spun back stylishly into Rick’s embrace. Just as soon as they locked arms and started kicking together, the tremors shook the stage. Lisa’s knees buckled and Rick tumbled over backwards as he tried to catch her. The rumbles grew louder and overshadowed the murmurs of the crowd as they watched the act unfold on the stage, and eventually, the crowd broke and ran, fearing the roof would collapse as the walls started swaying violently. 
Rick took Lisa by the hand and led her to the rear of the building, towards the fire escape, which was blocked by falling debris. Thinking not at all, he led her to the auditorium doors, which were blocked by the roof. Finally, he led her to the Green Room, which was by now abandoned by its former occupants. “Where do you think you’re going,” Lisa asked, startled. 
“Trying to find a safe place to hide,” Rick said quickly. 
“What do you mean? We have to get out of here,” Lisa snapped. 
He grabbed her shoulders and looked into her deep, shining, fear-gripped emerald eyes. “Lisa,” he said, the failing lights silhouetting his dark hair and bright eyes against the specter of disaster, the ground starting to shake and buckle slightly as he talked, “We don’t have time to run. We can’t run in tap shoes, and we don’t have time to put our normal boots on, and running barefoot through rubble is a bad idea. Plus, we don’t know what’s happening out there; the wind could pick up and start throwing things around, and we’ll get pummeled.” 
“So what’s your idea,” she asked sarcastically. “Hide in the costume closet?” 
“That’s not a bad idea,” he said. “No windows, no flying glass, and it’s not going to tip over easily,” he said. 
Lisa shot him her patented you’ve-gotta-be-kidding-me look but went into the closet with him, cuddled close for extra comfort. All of a sudden, the closet tipped over, belying his confidence in the weight of the furniture, and the rest of the lighting went out. 
********* 
The communicator rang violently in his pocket as Donald Hayes rushed back to the auditorium wreck site. “Whatever it is, Senator, I’m not interested,” he snapped. 
“Well, you’d better get interested, Hayes,” the Senator blustered. “The committee is sending you out to investigate that impact point and capture whatever caused it.” 
“Dammit, Russo,” Hayes thundered, “My daughter is in this wreckage, and I’m not leaving till she is found. Tell the committee they can write a memo, I don’t care.” 
“Your ship will depart from Pearl and head to Macross Island immediately; your orders from the committee are clear, Hayes!” Russo countered in tones equally resonant. “Your ship is to head the investigation; this may be the next big offensive that your intelligence was warning us about! Your motorcade will be at the airstrip in a half hour, as ordered.” 
Donald Hayes slammed his phone shut with frustration, sighed in frustration, then dialed his adjutant. “Roy, I’ve got a mission for you…” 
********** 
A few hours later, with the ship sailing its way to Macross Island, Donald Hayes congratulated himself with his creative paperwork. Only two days prior, he had arranged, as a show of unity with their new allies in Moscow, to transfer Captain Gloval and his crew under the command of the Kenesaw. Now, with his daughter missing and possibly injured, he turned command of the battle group over to his Russian counterpart, and hoped that he wouldn’t get fried for it in the aftermath. 
He worried about Lisa; hell, she was his only child, and she meant everything to him, especially since his wife died. He thought back to when Susan was in the hospital for the last time, with all those machines hooked up to her, fighting valiantly against the cancer that ultimately claimed her. He remembered how hard it was for Lisa to enjoy life after that, and how he, himself, had almost thrown his career away by drinking heavily off duty when Susan died. He didn’t want to lose Lisa; she was too important to him. 
It was close to midnight, four long hours after the theater collapsed, when he heard a lot of the rescue workers shouting. Looking up, he saw that they found they had rescued Lisa and her friend, Rick, from the rubble. He ran over to the gurneys as they were loading into the ambulance. “Hey, Lisa, it’s me, dad.” 
“Daddy,” she croaked out, bleary-eyed and not truly aware of her surroundings. 
He tried smiling, attempting to comfort her while she was hurting, holding her hand and rubbing it as she was loaded up. “You know, honey, they were right about one thing,” he said. 
“What’s that, dad?” 
“You two really know how to bring down the house.” 
 
********** 
 
Author’s note: The rest of the situation played out like in the McKinney novelization; Roy, Gloval, and the rest of the crew have the same exploratory encounters McKinney writes of, and Donald gives his report of the findings to the Senate committee. 
 

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