I won't use this story of mine, based on Origin's Wing Commander, for any profit or self-promotion. Promice.


***Authors Notes

This one-chapter-long crap was meant to be sorta parody of Wing Commander Prophecy, so don't take it seriously.

That's my first attempt at a crude fanfic that I post on fanfiction.net, so review and critisize please, or else I wouldn't know what to improve.

The story would be most interesting for you if you played WC:Prophecy in the past (preferably a long time, so you would know what is typical for this game).

Also, ignore the grammar errors, English is not my native language.

Well... Read and enjoy/suffer!



It was a quiet day.

Very typical.

The mysterious insectoid aliens haven't been heard of since the Proxima Incursion a few years back.


A typical day.

The TCS Midway was hovering above a dead planet, somewhere in former Kilrathi space.

It wasn't doing anything.



"Bzzzzzzzzz" buzzed the door to the captain's office.

The captain of the TCS Midway pulled up his pants real quick and said, with a deep and official voice: "Come in!".

An officer came in.

Fortunately, he didn't notice the porn magazine lying on the captain's desk, which the captain quickly hidden underneath an official-looking bundle of papers.

"What do you want? I'm very busy!" he snapped at the young man.

"Ah, sir, we just received a new set of orders from HQ... I thought you should know..."

The captain wasn't in the right mood today.

"Yeah yeah, just tell'em we'll do it and get the hell outta here, I'm a busy man!".

"Ah, sir, perhaps you will consider to actually HEAR OUT the orders first?" proposed the officer.

The captain frowned for a moment.

And frowned.

And pondered.

"Ah, sir? You heard what I said?" asked the officer quietly.

"Yea, wha? oh... yeah, whatever..." snapped the captain, removing his gaze from the bundle of official-looking papers back to the officer.

The officer continued: "Sir, we are ordered to set course towards the Vukar Tag sector, to escort a transport with a VERY important hush-hush cargo, somewhere outside explored space"

"Let me guess" the captain said, with a usual bored look in his eyes "we're the only military confed ship around, right?"

The question was trivial indeed.

"You got it sir!"

The captain let out a sigh.

"Oh hell, why not. Anything is better than hovering above a lifeless rock, doin' nothing! Tell the boys on the bridge that I've ordered them to set course to this Vular Gak.... Gutak Kat...."

"Vukar Tag sector, sir?" suggested the officer.

"Yeah, that. Now get to it!" snapped the captain.

The officer saluted, and exited the room.

The captain, whose name was, by the way, captain Fagman, resumed the activities he was doing before he was interrupted in such a rude manner.


The TCS Midway, a huge 1830 meter long Mega-Carrier, spun slowly towards empty space.

It's engines flared, and it left orbit, cruising towards the nearest jump-point into Vukar Tag.


***The First and Last Chapter

The transport loomed large in the big window aboard the TCS Midway.

In the rec room, a group of young pilots was sitting around a table, drinking and smoking illegal stuff.

"Um, say, Thunderchild" said a young readhead chick, callsign Stilleto, to a black haired skinny kid, callsign Thunderchild. "Don't you think that we should be flying out there, escorting the ship? I mean, we supposed to protect it, and here we are, sitting duck with our fighters rotting in the hangar bays... If an attack happens, we'll be entirely helpless!"

"Don't worry lassie" came the calm reply. "Who could POSSIBLY attack us here?"

"That's right, you know that Confed didn't see any action in YEARS!" commented Cowboy, another tough-looking flyboy.

"Why that sounds familiar..." muttered the allfamous Maestro under his breath.

In the meanwhile, Maniac was sitting in the corner, watching outside the window, at the ugly transport outside.

All these months of waiting without any boom-boom action and shooting haven't appealed for this energetic yet old man.

His failures to lure Stilleto into bed didn't help either.

He was still jealous of Blair, whom he hated, cause it seemed to him that he always got the women (he apparently was ignorant of the fact that Blair's remains were now probably lying somewhere in the alien equivalent of a toilet or a sewer, after making a long trip through a bug's digestion system).


In the meanwhile, thousands of light-years away, in an unexplored region of space, on the bug's homeworld, a specific roach had serious digestion problems.

Blair's thick skull was too much for it's alien stomach juices....


OK, back to the Midway.


Suddenly an alarm blared all around the ship.

"Attention! All pilots report into the briefing room immidiately!" a voice said from the loudspeaker on the wall.

"Allright, action!" bellowed Maniac and ran quickly towards the briefing room, forgetting to don his flight suit.

The other pilots, groaning, rose slowly from their chairs.

Though an outside viwer would've thoght that this group of pilots was less-than-enthusiastic to fly a combat mission, in fact they were secretly pissed-off and enraged at the damn brass that interrupted their party so suddenly.

Since they couldn't do anything about it, as they were part of the military and it was part of their job to be suddenly interrupted, they directed their anger toward the invisible enemies, somewhere out there in deep space, who were most probably responsible for the sudden alarm.

Whoever that was, he wasn't very smart to piss these guys (and girls) off...


After about 15 minutes, everybody have assembled in the briefing room.

"Quiet! Quiet please!" said CAG Drake.

Everybody started to click their ICIS systems unpatiently.

Old habits are hard to forget...

"The ICIS system is currently offline for repairs..." the CAG explained. "I will have to explain the situation to you personally".

The room filled with sounds of "aaaaw", "too bad" and "I kinda liked all these flashing lights and buttons!".

Drake started her explanation.

"Intel indicates that a large force of alien fighters heading towards this system, and will arrive here in a few hours".

In the corner, Maniac whispered to Stilleto: "Wow, these Intel guys are good! How could the possibly know this stuff?"

Stilleto waved this annoyance off.

In the meanwhile, the instructor continued: "These are serious bug forces, outnumbering us by a large margin. They are planning to attack the Midway and blow us to little bits"

"But I thought that the transport was more important..." Maniac interrupted.

Drake wasn't going to listen to any half-assed grandpa pilot in the crowd.

"Like I said, these bugs mean trouble. But Tactical have developed a new strategy. We are scrambling every availible fighter to intercept these guys. I want you to mine the jump point through which they would come, and then wait till they arrive. Then you shoot them till they're dead. Are we clear?"

"Yes sir!" boomed the voices, what was strange enough, since CAG Blake was a female, and it should've been more appropriate to shout 'yes mam!'.

They waited and waited, until they got really impatient, until Maestro let out a polite cough.

Drake looked up, to the waiting pilots.

"What did I forget?" she puzzled. "Oh, I know!".

She then cleared her throat and officially announced: "Dissmissed."

Everybody then ran toward the hangar bays, climbed into their respective cockpits, and without waiting for a clearance turned on their engines and set a full speed ahead.

20 top-of-the-line Confed fighters flew out of the bays with a thundering sound.

The remaining 232 fighters in the bays were left behind due to lack of pilots, and the fact that they were mainly there for reserve.

As they exited the TCS Midway's fighter bays, they adjusted their nav points, selected their favorite weapons from the availible list, and rocketed toward the jump point.

A jump buoy was conviniently waiting for them, to mark the jump point's location.

They dropped a few mines here and a few mines there, then got tired of all this boring mine-dropping, and just hovered there, gazing onto the beautiful stars, chatting on radio comm.

Some pilots even sneaked-in porn magazines into the fighters, and got busy...


Suddenly, in a big green flash, thousands of alien fighters appeared.

They flew easily through the half-completed minefield and started to fire ugly green maser bolts on the Terran fighters, cursing and taunting them in perfect English.

Stilleto, in her "Panther" Space Superiority Fighter, immidiately blasted one of them into smitherins, but quickly three others caught onto her tail, refusing to leave her alone, firing a few maser bolts here and there, so that she wouldn't forget they were still with her.

Inside his fighter, Maniac quickly pulled his pants up, put aside Stilleto's picture, and with a shout: "Stilleto! Hang on! I'm coming to save you!" punched in full afterburners and spun his ship towards her direction.

As he closed the distance between himself and Stilleto's pursuers, he transfered all availible power to his guns, and started firing off madly tachyon and ion bolts.

The bugs just shrug their tentacles, and spun in his direction, firing off big mean missiles that smashed into his "Tigershark" and overloaded his underpowered shields.

A quick green volley followed, and the fighter disintegrated in a big fancy flash.

Stilleto was shocked at a loss of a comred, but quickly recovered, muttered "I knew this guy was goin' to push his luck a bit too much one day....", and coninued to blast off aliens across the cosmos.


In the meanwhile, about 30000 clicks from there, Thunderchild and Cowboy in their "Vampire" Really Really Superior Space Superiority Sighters, were dogfighting alien Manta fighters.

They noticed the bright flash and the horrible scream of Maniac as he was reduced to interstellar dust.

"Oh my god, I think they got Maniac!" called Cowboy.

"Well laddie, tha't what war is all about" Thunderchild responded, turning a pair of light Moray fighters into twisted heaps of organic material. "We fly with death every day, and lose friends. It's war's nature"

"Thinks pal, I really feel much better now" said Cowboy seriously as his missile smashed into a fluck of Manta's that got to clamped together, setting of a marvelous chain reaction that engulfed 6 of them, raising Cowboy's killing score to second place, right after Stilleto. "I never lost a close friend before in my life! I always had the impression that wars in our 27th century were casualty free!" he proclaimed, while toasting a corvette with a blast into it's bridge.

The alien screams of a hundred insects could be heard on the commlink, as the Barracuda corvette went off in a green kaboom on the nuclear scale.


"We are doom!" taunted a Squid pilot.

"No, you are doomed!" replied Stilleto, releasing a full weapons burst into the already damaged Squid's rear.

The fighter went tumbling around space, trailing peculiar green smoke, as Stilleto entered a blood frenzy, shooting at the fighter though it was no longer operational.

The fighter arrogantly ignored her shots - it was going to explode only when it liked to, and not a second earlier.

3, 2, 1... BOOM!

The fighter exploded into tiny pieces of goo.

Stilleto yawned, and turned to face yet another fighter.

The fighting carried on, with space thick with lethal energy, but mostly with radio waves, carrying taunts to their enemies, and orders to their friends.

Though the bugs were very confident on their abilities, the result of this seemingly uneven battle was pre-determined...


After about half an hour, the tired pilots stepped out of the cockpits of their fighters, gleaming with the glory of victory.

Cowboy almost managed to overthrow Stilleto on the killboard, but she took out 50 Lampreys at the last minute, rocketing her back up, into unchallenged position on the killboard.

Maestro, as usual, was last on the killboard, with 3 kills (all were Remora fighters, small and without energy shields), even though he was usually considered an old and seasoned veteran.

At least Maestro survived, what was not true about others in this fight...

There were a whole THREE casualties for confed, with one severly injured pilot.

The first, of course, was Maniac (his death was celebrated a few days later).

The second was a pet hamster of one of the pilots, that was accidently smashed against the fighter's window during a particularly violent manoeuvre (they don't make those safety belts one-size-fits-all, you know...)


The severly-injured pilot was Zero.

He returned from combat with a 99% damage on his fighter, which started to fall apart as soon as it touched down on the hangar's floor, leaving only the cockpit standing on the landing gear.

Zero left the fighter unhurt, but was ambushed by a raging technician, specifically Rachel Coriollis, who beat him up so bad that he was removed from the flight roster for at least half-a-year.

Chief technician Coriollis claimed that she did the right thing, considering that this Zero guy PURPOSFULLY thrashed her PROPERTY.

She was swarmed by an angry mob of pilots, and became the 3rd Killed in Action (and what an action it was!) that day.


Wars, in these days, were more costy than ever...


This was the beginning of the marvelous "bug spray" saga, that I know nothing about, and you'll probably never WILL know.

And frankly, who gives a damn?




*A little note about Rachel Coriollis

I have desided that she deserve death only after completing the rest of the story, cause I HATE the bitch.

In Prophecy, she always rebuke Casey for slightly scratching "her" fighters, like it is her personal property and not Confed's. Besides, the damn guy COULD'VE BEEN FUCKIN KILLED out there, but all she care about is her screwed fighters!!!

And anyway, does she really think that Casey (or me as a player) is capable of battling 1:4 odds against him, blow-up capital ships on his own without backup, and defend the Midway from the whole fuckin bug fleet without the tiniest scratch on his fighter?!?

Overall, ladies and gentlemen, Rachel Coriollis is A BITCH!!!