The Turret: Starclan Foundation

by James McAlliater

  ***

  West Lake Road

  Skaneateles, NY

  Standard Earth Date January 29 3447

  “Tell me what Sharon was like,” Sandy’s quiet voice asked.

  “Pretty. Striking. Funny, smart, patient…” Jock’s words faded off as he looked at Sandy. I don’t want to hurt you.

  “Jock, it’s okay. I’ve hurt as much as I’m going to over this. Really, I am. I want to know about her because she was part of your life. She’s a part of you now.” Sandy smiled, trying to ease both of them through the discomfort.

  “Sandy, it’s hard, describing her to you. I…”

  “You still feel the loss.” Sandy took in a deep breath. “I understand.”

  “It’s not that at all, although, I’ll always feel the loss. I can handle that now.” God knows I’ve had enough practice!

  “Sandy, I can’t describe her because I’m…you won’t believe me.”

  “Jock MacAlister, you’ve never lied to me before. You can’t lie to me. I would know it.”

  “I’m thinking of you, Sandy. I’m thinking of all the time we lost, of how cruel I was to shut you out when all you wanted to do was help me. I’m thinking of Don and Aggie, and how I shut them out, too. How wrong that was. How I’ll never get the chance to ask them what I have to ask you now; Sandy, I’m sorry. Please, Sandy, will you forgive me?” Tears built up behind the dam of Jock’s eyes as he waited for the refusal he knew must come.

  “I forgave you a long time ago, Jock MacAlister. After I did, the wait for you was a lot nicer. You wouldn’t let me help before, will you let me help you now?”

  “Sandy, I…” Jock buried his head in her shoulder as he let the dam burst. He stayed there a long time.

  As he regained composure, Jock told her. About Pat’s infatuation with Sharon, about Angie’s too-obvious attempts at seducing him, about Sharon and Angie’s sham antagonism. About how he had pushed Don, Aggie, and her into a closed corner of his mind because he couldn’t handle the thoughts of his parents being gone. Of how pushing them away embarrassed him into staying away.

  And then he told her of Shannon. And about the last night on the turret. About arriving at Lunar Station and seeing Jeri Bucktooth there, in Dress Whites. About being told of Shannon’s death.

  Through it all, Sandy held him, her embrace siphoning off his pain, and listened. She listened to the man she loved open up to her, as he had never done before. Can I dare hope he still loves me? He does, I can feel it. But, tell me, Jock. Please!

  Jock felt his pain, the pain that Jeri Bucktooth and Shannon Malone had helped him deal with, evaporating with each word he told Sandy. After some time, just as he had finished, he sat up and looked at her.

  “Thank you,” he whispered. “I’m so, so sorry. How can you be here, waiting?”

  “Your mom gave me the keys ages ago.”

  “I mean, how, why did you wait for me?”

  “I had to. You and I are meant to be together. I love you, Jock.”

  “I don’t deserve you. Not after…”

  “I was tortured by it for a long time. I knew you’d come back, but I didn’t know when. Or how. I didn’t know why you shut us out, shut me out. It started to… I…” Sandy pushed him back and looked into his eyes. “Jock, tell me. Do you love me?”

  “Yes. I love you Sandy. I always will.”

  “Did you love…” Sandra took a deep breath before whispering, “Sharon?”

  “She made the pain less. I loved her, but, differently from they way I love you. I can’t explain it. You are…” Jock ran his fingers over Sandra’s cheeks. “You make me whole. You are part of me.”

  “Let me show you something amazing. Come on.” Sandy smiled as she stood up, her face glowing in Jock’s eyes, and extended her hand to him. “Jeri didn’t tell you everything about Shannon.”

  Jock took her hand and let her lead him into his old room. His mind raced with thoughts; was she leading him as Shannon had, for the same reason? He had to stop her if she was, stop her from shattering every dream about her he’s ever had…

  They reached the door, and as Jock was about to draw back, he thought he heard something in his room.

  “Go ahead, open the door.” Sandy gently urged him, as if it was Christmas morning and his presents waited there.

  His hand trembled, though he had no clue why it should. Jock opened the door.

  Everything had changed. The walls were a different color, yet familiar. There were things hanging from wires, his trophies were gone, his bed, was now… a crib?

  Jock stood in the doorway, dazed for a moment, then walked over and looked into the crib.

  “He’s so beautiful, Jock. He looks just like you.” Sandy’s smile lit up her voice as she spoke into his ear. She reached down and picked up the little boy.

  “She named him Jack Nial MacAlister. I like it.” Sandy began rocking the infant as she smiled at him, the baby cooing and giggling in response.

  “Sandy. I. Wow! I, I never…I didn’t know. I, I…” The lump in his throat took a fantastic effort to swallow.

  “Shannon left him with Don and Aggie when I was at law school. They were bringing him to me when they were killed in the crash. He survived. She had made me his guardian, Jock.”

  “Sandy, you don’t, I mean…” JUST BLURT IT OUT THERE! “He’s my child with another woman. That doesn’t upset you?”

  “Jock, he’s part of you, so I can’t help but love him.”

  At that moment a ray of sunlight burst through the window, setting Sandy’s hair aflame with a golden glow...

  The dream!

  “Oh, my God! Sandy, seeing you standing in the sunlight, holding my child, Sandy, I’ve dreamt this since I was ten!”

  “Jock…”

  “Sandy, there’s something missing that was in my dream.”

  Sandy laid Jack down, and turned on shaking knees towards Jock. She raised her hand to gently stroke his cheek.

  “Jock…”

  Jock moved a little closer to Sandy, and reached up to gently cup her tear-streaked face with his hands.

  “Well, in my dreams, there were six children. Our children, Sandy.”

  “Jock… I had the same dream…”

  ***

  United Space Force Academy

  MacAlister Chapel

  Cape Canaveral, Florida

  Standard Earth Date June 20 3447

  “Hey, Griddles, who’s that officer headed this way?” The pretty, dark–skinned Ensign asked about the tall officer, aglow in his dress whites, walking towards them as midnight neared.

  “He looks familiar. Hey, is that MacAlister? LC already! I’ll be damned!” Junior Cadet Charles Gridley told the girl clutching his arm. The two had been an item for the last year, but with Rhonda’s graduation yesterday, they had spent the evening walking around the campus, talking about their future. They were still in their dress whites from graduation, Strolling around the campus in the late evening hours of the day after graduation, unwilling to release the excitement of the moment for mere reality.

  “He graduated in ’44, when you were a freshmen. Remember? He only has like the highest grades ever. In everything!” The new grads were visibly excited to see an honest to God Hero walking nearby on the day after their graduation.

  “Oh, my God, Charlie, I’m assigned to his command, R&D!”

  “What is he doing with those flowers?”

  “Well, perhaps HE appreciates a gorgeous, brilliant woman when he hears about one!” Rhonda stepped to the side, hands on hips, posing with her head held high. “He’s obviously read my transcripts, and…”

  “Um, not so fast, sweet lips. He’s laying them down outside the Chapel door. Now he’s gone inside.”

  “Oh, my God, Charlie, don’t you remember?” Rhonda Rhodes felt the hairs on her neck rise as her throat tightened.

  “Oh God, you mean that story you told me about the three who died two days after graduation?”

  The two
graduates spotted a few of their friends and called them over. The group talked quietly for a few minutes. Then they all moved towards the Chapel doors. Rhonda picked up the card with the flowers. It was simple, and said only, “Sharon, my love. Forever.” One image was upon the card; an armored fist thrusting a dirk up through a circle with the word “FORTITER” inscribed upon the circle.

  Rhonda gently replaced the card into the exact same spot she had removed it from, then looked at the others and nodded.

  After a few minutes, Lieutenant Commander Jock MacAlister walked out of the chapel, his surprise at the sight greeting him hidden by his crisp salute to the half dozen newly graduated Ensigns and one Junior Cadet standing at sharp attention, saluting him on each side of the steps from the chapel steps and walkway. He recognized the Ensigns, freshmen his senior year, but he did not stop, holding his salute as he walked between them. As he passed each pair, their saluting arms dropped. While he appreciated their show of respect, this trip was not about him. He thought about another walk through saluting sailors outside the doors of this chapel. The walk he dreamed of, but never got to take. With her. Jock looked straight ahead and kept walking.

  Rhonda stared after the head of Naval R&D as he walked away.

  Charlie entered something onto his datatab, and then he put his arm around Rhonda’s shoulder, drawing her closer. Her arm draped around Charlie’s waist, resting on his far hip as her head nestled into that comfortable spot on his shoulder. She suddenly stood up, and looked at Charlie.

  “I have to go take care of something. I’ll be back soon. Don’t move.”

  Charlie watched her walk down the hill.

  A crowd of graduates and cadets gathered in the first light of morning to see what was going on.

  Charlie explained it to them.

  ***

  L-2 Shipyards Orbital Dock

  Administrative Offices

  Standard Earth Date August 20 3448

  150 million miles above the Tsiolkovskiy Crater, the largest man-made object yet completed orbited the gravity shadow known as “L-2”. The Armstrong Shipyards looked a lot like a kid’s “Tinker-Toy” creation, girders creating a latticework of habitats and construction jigs around six “dry-docks”. Building ships at L-2 on open jigs means that nearly any design could be built without major renovations to the shipyards.

  Floating in the gravity clamps of Dry-Dock 3 were the two sections of the alien scout vessel. Extra scaffolding was growing around the outside hull, allowing access and providing structure for the reverse engineering of this amazing ship. The airtight shell that would enclose the craft and allow a ‘shirt-sleeve’ environment for the study of it was nearly complete.

  In an adjacent dry-dock, a frame was starting to take shape. One long keel, curving at the end, with a few frames curving up perpendicular to it, was anchored in the jig. The jig itself, already twice the size of the others, was being expanded outward. A long straight girder supported three tubes, each with huge copper coils winding around them.

  Lieutenant Commander Jock MacAlister looked out the viewport at the new construction, and then scanned the other three jigs undergoing expansion. There would be three powerful new Heavy Cruisers completed by this time next year, and three more the year after that. Within five years, there would be enough infrastructures in place to build twelve ships per year. Within ten years, well over one hundred ships would be commissioned. By the time the Bug invasion fleet came, a fleet of nearly five hundred ships would be ready to meet them.

  “Lost in thought, JG? By the time we get back, your reactor will be installed.” A scruffy voice from behind pulled Jock’s attention back to the present.

  “Gunny! Glad to see you! Corporate let you out of your office, eh? I figured you’d be Earthside by now” Jock grabbed Dennis’ hand.

  “I had to kick some brass ass to get out. Figured you’d be here, so, here I am. When do we leave?

  “About an hour. Thanks for doing this.”

  “No problem. I hear weddings are a great place to get laid, especially if you’re the Groom. Or the Best Man.”

  “Gunny, you’d make Sally blush, I swear!”

  “The little guy will have a blast, too. We’ll see to that. Anyway, we’d better get a move on. Unless…you’ve gotten cold feet?”

  “No, not at all. Not this time!”

  “Good, because I’d hate to have to beat some sense into you. I may have to work up a sweat to do it. But I would, ya know!”

  “Yeah, well, there’s no time for that. Let’s get moving, Pops.”

  Dennis Trap rolled his eyes, then grinned a little as he and the Lieutenant Commander headed for the shuttle hanger.

  ***

  Saint James Episcopal Church

  Skaneateles NY

  Standard Earth Date August 24 3448

  Jock held the ring up against the sunlit window.

  “Good. That’s the last one for now. I’ll see you after the service.” The photographer vanished.

  “You ready, JG?”

  “I sure hope so, Gunny. Here, you’d better hold this. I’ll drop it down the drain or something.”

  “You’ll be fine, Jock. You’re just nervous. When the curtain goes up, you’ll be fine.”

  “Thanks, Dennis.” Jock took a huge breath and let it out immediately. “How long?”

  “Just about now, I would say.” The organ music began as if on Gunny’s cue.

  “Do I look okay? I my tux straight? My hair?”

  “You’re fine! Jock, GO!” Dennis gave Jock a slightly more than playful shove. The two walked onto the altar.

  “Did we invite this many people?”

  “Be quiet. When I kick you, say ‘I do.’ If I don’t kick you, it’s the wrong girl. Run.”

  Jock almost lost breakfast trying not to laugh. The organ changed tunes, the familiar song pulling Jock’s attention to more serious matters.

  He looked down the aisle.

  There she was. An angel glowing in the sunlight. A few steps and he saw her face.

  Jock remembered nothing but that face until Dennis kicked him some time later.

  ***

  Belhurst Resort

  Geneva NY

  Standard Earth Date August 24 3448

  Jock closed the door and let out a big breath. For an instant he was afraid to turn around. A smile grew on his face and he looked over his shoulder.

  “We can unpack later. Mrs. MacAlister.”

  Sandy blushed, unpacking the suitcase. She turned to put Jock’s underwear in the drawer and he was there, as close as…

  “Jock.”

  “Sandy.”

  She dropped the briefs when her hands moved to his chest, her eyes never leaving his. Two small circles, then up her hands went to his face…

  Jock pulled her to him, his kisses light and tender. Sandy’s hands wrapped around Jock’s neck…

  Breathless, she pulled back, “What about dinner?”

  Jock gazed into her eyes and smiled.

  “You’re all I need.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  L-2 Shipyards Orbital Dock

  Construction Jig Alpha

  Heavy Cruiser CA-1

  Standard Earth Date May 4, 3449

  “Dennis, are you sure?” Jock MacAlister frowned in the Captain’s Station of CA-1, in the center of the deserted bridge. Around him floated the trappings of an ongoing ship’s construction; pieces of wire, empty electronics boxes, used lunch wrappers, and other assorted flotsam.

  “The lawyers are here now. They say we have to sign, or they’ll hit us with two dozen patent infringement suits.”

  “Listen, Gunny, stall them. Tell them I’m on my way, and I’ll make a decision soon.” Jock cut the connection with Dennis’ nod of affirmation, set his elbow on his knee, and began stroking his chin.

  Dennis Trap was listed as the Owner and Directing Manager of Gravitas Propulsion. The company was founded as a subsidiary of his father’s engineering firm, StarClan Engineering
Company. Jock had deeded fifty two percent of it to Dennis, although it operated as a partnership between USF Research & Development and StarClan. The express purpose of the partnership was the rapid development of power, propulsion, and weapons systems to defeat the coming Bug invasion.

  Now General Aerospace was threatening him with trillions in lawsuits if he didn’t sign over his patent rights to the power plants, weapons systems, and gravitic drives that he had developed. They were threatening to delay the entire shipbuilding program!

  Jock opened his comm link and hit a speed dial symbol. Time for the big guns and the really big guns.

  “Yes, how may I help you?” The young and bored nasal voice grated on his eardrum.

  “Sandra MacAlister, please. Tell her it’s Jock.”

  “I’m sorry, sir, but The Hungyda, Hungyda, Hungyda and McCormick Law Firm does not handle athletes.”

  “Then tell her it is her husband, Solar Star Medal recipient Lieutenant Commander Jock MacAlister. I understand she handles him pretty well!” Will this bimbo receptionist even have a clue?

  “Just pretty well, sir? Don’t you mean, ‘she handles him exquisitely’?

  “Sandy, this is serious!” She got me again! Will I ever learn?

  “Okay, Admiral, what’s up? I’m NOT making a Burns Dinner tonight!”

  “Sandy, I’m not an admiral! And yes, a Burns Dinner would be great, thanks for offering. But I need your help.”

  “Cooking haggis? Um, no.”

  “No, in legal matters. Now, I’m getting Admiral Alimonte on a conference call. I need your best corporate lawyer with patent experience to join us.”

  “Okay, that’d be Sims. I’ll get him to join you. In the meantime, try not to fall apart!”

  “Hold, pu-leeze!” The nasal voice came back.