Chapter Two
The fine tip of Richard Long's paint brush followed a precise path across the top of the piece of plastic on the paper in front of him, leaving a thin trail of blue paint in its wake. Drawing upon years of experience and practice, the Variable Fighter pilot kept a steady hand as he traced an unseen line along the slightly curved surface of the tiny part. When he had finally completed the drawn out stroke he was left with a single perfectly even blue stripe that was ready to be joined with the similar stripes he had already painted on other parts of the model kit he was working on.
"You know I'm always amazed that you can do that so precisely," a voice behind Richard noted as the pilot opened a container of cleaning fluid in preparation for washing his brush. Richard just shrugged his shoulders.
"I've had plenty of practice," he noted, "And having unusually small hands doesn't hurt. Thanks for not interrupting by the way."
Richard had been well aware of Tristan's entrance into the tiny cabin that the two of them shared aboard Battle Frontier, but was still thankful that his normally boisterous wingman had decided not to start talking to him until after he was finished with the fine detail work he had been doing.
"No problem," Tristan replied, "I wouldn't want to mess you up. I've always found it fascinating to watch you paint the small details on those things. If it were me trying to paint those markings I think I'd just end up with a bunch of coloured blotches all over the hull."
Richard smirked as he finished cleaning his brush and turned to face his wingman.
"As I said, having small hands helps."
Tristan laughed.
"Yeah, that's probably it."
Richard and Tristan might complement each other well as wingmen, but it would have taken some work to find two men who were more distinct from each other from a physical perspective. While Richard was less than five and a half feet tall and a bit on the lightly built side, Tristan was a veritable giant of a man, over six feet in height and extremely muscular due to the amount of time he spent hiking and climbing when he was on leave. He had green eyes and blonde hair that reached down to his neck while Richard had blue eyes and black hair that he kept relatively short. Tristan also had a well trimmed circle beard that he'd started wearing to hide the scar he'd obtained during one of his outdoor adventures on Island Three. He claimed the scar was from a vicious life or death struggle with a wild animal, but Richard had managed to get him to admit that he'd actually just slipped a couple of feet and struck a sharp rock while he was doing some climbing.
Tristan studied the array of plastic parts that was laid out on top of a sheet of paper on the cabin's lone table.
"A red VF-1 huh? Millia Fallyna Jenius' unit?"
Richard nodded.
"Yeah. The kit's a gift from my sister. I recently completed a model of Maximillian's VF-1J, and my sister decided that it needed a model of Millia's fighter to compliment it." He shrugged his shoulders. "My sister is a bit of a hopeless romantic."
"This is the sister that's taking engineering courses? Or the one that's in her last year of high school?"
"The one that's taking engineering courses."
"Ah, that would be Sylvia, right? You should introduce me to her sometime. She's pretty cute."
Richard gave Tristan a distinctly unfriendly look.
"Tristan," he said flatly, "you're a great friend and a great wingman. When I fly with you I know I've got someone I can trust covering my six. That being said… if you so much as hint at making a move on my little sister then I swear by the power of all things holy that I will beat you to within an inch of your life. Understood?"
Under normal circumstances the idea of the diminutive Richard beating up the enormous Tristan would be almost comically ridiculous, but both men knew that when younger sisters got involved the normal rules ceased to apply. Tristan quickly raised his hands.
"Hey, I'm just messing with you dude."
"You'd better be," Richard told him darkly. Richard liked Tristan and greatly enjoyed the larger pilot's fun-loving personality, but he also knew that the man went through girlfriends faster than pretty much any person he'd ever met. Richard generally didn't poke his nose into Sylvia's love life but he was pretty sure she was looking for a relationship that would last for more than a few weeks.
Deciding that it would be safer not to press the matter, Tristan returned to the subject of Richard's model kits.
"I'm a little surprised you didn't get around to building a model of Max's VF-1 until recently. I would have thought you'd have finished the rides of all the big Space War I aces years ago."
"I sort of did," Richard replied. "I just decided to build new versions of a lot of them because I wanted some higher quality ones that were all the same scale. Plus you've got to remember that Max didn't start flying a One-J until after the war. During it he flew a One-A."
"Ah, so you built his One-A early on and his One-J much later?"
"Yeah. Which meant that the One-J was actually pretty decent looking and I didn't have as much incentive to build a new one as I did with the One-A."
Richard took a moment to study the parts on the table before continuing.
"Truth be told Max was never really my favourite of the Space War I aces when I was a kid. The movies always portrayed Hikaru as the big hero, so he was my favourite pilot when I was a little kid, then once I got into my teens I became a fan of Roy because he was so cool and manly."
"And now?" Tristan enquired, obviously curious. Richard just shrugged his shoulders.
"Now that I'm an adult and actually fly valkyries for a living I'm less concerned about which of my childhood heroes was the coolest. I still admire them, but I no longer idolize them."
"Aw, that's a grown up answer. Where's your inner child?"
Richard sighed.
"Okay, fine. If I was to choose a favourite nowadays it would be Maximillian. He was the best pilot of the war and his personality seems a lot more similar to mine than Roy's or Hikaru's. "
Tristan smirked at Richard.
"He also married a really hot Meltrandi ace," he noted. Richard rolled his eyes.
"Yeah, but I think I could do without seven daughters. Besides, I'm not fond of green hair."
"Then we just need to find you a hot Meltrandi ace who doesn't have green hair and understands the concept of family planning. It might take a little work, but it should be doable if I look around a bit." Tristan saw the look Richard was giving him. "What?"
Richard sighed again.
"Tristan, you've set me up with three different girlfriends in the two years that we've flown together and none of them has worked out for more than a few months."
Tristan spread his arms in a dramatic fashion.
"So?" he demanded. "Fourth time's the charm. Besides, I didn't know you were looking for a Meltran when I set you up with those girls."
"I'm not looking for a Meltran. I'm just looking for a nice girl who doesn't mind my model collection or the fact that I'm short."
"Okay, so you're looking for a Meltran ace who is a nice girl, likes valkyrie models, and doesn't mind the fact that you're short. That last one shouldn't be that hard to find –Max Jenius wasn't exactly a big guy either."
Richard let out yet another sigh as he glanced at the clock that showed the ship's time. Twenty minutes until he and Tristan were supposed to be at a squadron briefing.
It was going to be a long twenty minutes.
XXXXX
Talsha tilted her head back and sighed as she felt warm water begin to cascade down her back. The Meltran pilot had always enjoyed being able to take a hot shower after completing a mission. Quite aside from getting rid of the smell the fluid used during the micloning process left behind such showers were also an excellent way to loosen her muscles after she had spent several hours in the cramped confines of a Queadluun's cockpit.
Then again, maybe she just enjoyed pampering herself. No one said Meltrandi soldiers couldn't enjoy being spoilt, after all.
Placing her hands behind her head, Talsha closed her eyes and leaned back, letting the warm water run through her long hair. Even in her micronized form she was nearly six feet in height, which was much taller than was average for a micronized Meltran. Her height -when combined with her white hair, deep brown skin, golden eyes, and elf-like Zentraedi ears- tended to make her stand out quite a bit. Which she'd sometimes found to be a blessing and sometimes a curse, especially during her teenage years.
One of the doors leading into the shower room swished open, and two more micronized Meltrans stepped in. The first one possessed red eyes and medium length blue hair. Her name was Mira Soltam. She was the second in command of Talsha's Flight as well as a crack shot with her Queadluun's heavy beam cannon. Despite that fact she didn't fit any of the popular stereotypes about sharpshooters. She was neither cold and reserved nor cocky and arrogant. Instead she had a gentle, kindly big sister type personality and showed a lot of concern for the well being of her sisters in arms.
The second Meltran was Mira's wingman. Her name was Waria Zuruk, and in terms of personality she fit all the stereotypes about ace pilots to a tee. She was cocky, fun loving, and boisterous, and it often seemed as if she enjoyed flirting with danger. She was also exceptionally beautiful, possessing long red hair, alluring purple eyes, a slender figure, and incredibly smooth skin that was, as far as Talsha could tell, absolutely devoid of any kind of flaw or blemish. She always attracted a lot of attention whenever she made an appearance at Battle Frontier's recreational facilities, and it was not without a grain of truth that the rest of the squadron joked about her having broken the hearts of half the male pilots in the fleet. Waria might enjoy hanging out with guys, but she was also openly lesbian and had no interest in them whatsoever from a romantic standpoint.
Actually, Talsha suspected Waria might be in some sort of relationship with Mira. She couldn't say exactly why that was. She knew Mira had dated guys, but she just couldn't shake the impression that there was something going on between the two Meltrans. Maybe she just thought that way because the two of them spent so much of their off duty time together, but every time Talsha tried to convince herself that was all there was to it she found she couldn't make herself believe it.
Mira and Waria walked down the row of shower stalls together, then stopped just before they came to the one Talsha was using. A quick look passed between them, and Waria turned to the occupant of the stall next to Talsha.
"Jarnika, the adults need to talk. Come help me wash my hair."
Waria had exceptionally long hair, especially for a pilot. She normally wore it in a lengthy braid that reached most of the way down her back, but when she wore it loose as she was at that moment it was long enough to reach her thighs.
Glancing quickly at Talsha and Mira, Jarnika did as she was told and vacated the stall she had been using to join Waria. Despite being the squadron's rising star, the green haired, blue eyed ensign was a rather quiet young woman –more of a girl really as she was still only nineteen years old. Talsha wasn't entirely sure whether her wingman's shyness was due to her age, the fact that she had been assigned to an elite squadron right after graduating from the academy, or just her personality. She actually appreciated the younger pilot's lack of hubris –too many naturally talented people had an excessively high opinion of themselves- but she still found herself wishing that the young woman was a little more assertive at times. And maybe a little older as well. She didn't like feeling as if she were leading a kid into battle.
Mira slipped into the stall that Jarnika had vacated and started the water running. She took a couple moments to get comfortable, then turned to Talsha and cut straight to the chase.
"So what's bothering you?" she asked.
"What makes you think something's bothering me?" Talsha replied.
Mira gave Talsha the kindly big sister version of a "cut the bullshit," look, and Talsha sighed in response.
"It's nothing you need to concern yourself with, Mira."
Mira shrugged her shoulders.
"Maybe not, but I consider you my friend. Try and get past that whole "a leader is responsible for solving her own problems" mentality and just talk to me like you would if we were simply good friends."
Talsha shook her head.
"It's not a matter of rank, Mira. I simply don't want to talk about it."
Mira gave Talsha a "You're being childish" look, but didn't try to argue the point.
"It's about Jarnika, isn't it?"
Talsha sighed. It wasn't only in the cockpit that Mira could be a sharpshooter.
"A little bit," she admitted. "But it's not her fault. And there's a lot more to it than that."
"Like what?"
Talsha gritted her teeth.
"I don't want to talk about it, Mira."
Mira gave Talsha a hurt expression that made her feel like she'd slapped the blue haired Meltran across the face, but she held her ground. Realising that she wasn't going to get what she wanted, Mira softened her expression.
"I just want to help you, Talsha."
"I know," Talsha replied softly. Suddenly her warm shower didn't seem very enjoyable any more. Shutting off the water, she turned to face her subordinate directly.
"I'm sorry," she said simply, then slipped out of her stall and headed for the nearby changing room. The sound of a set of doors swishing open and closed marked her departure. Mira sighed, then shut off the water in her own stall.
"You can have your stall back now, Jarnika," she informed the young ensign. Jarnika –whose hands were covered in shampoo suds -glanced at the back of Waria's head.
"You're free to go," the red haired pilot told her. Looking grateful, Jarnika slipped out of Waria's stall and made her way back to her own. Mira patted the green haired ensign on the shoulder as they passed each other.
"Don't worry, hon. The Angel is just having some personal issues. It's not your fault."
Jarnika nodded her head.
"Thanks," she said quietly, then continued on to her shower stall while Mira joined Waria in hers. Grabbing some shampoo from a nearby bottle, the blue haired Meltran lathered her hands then began to run them through the redhead's long locks.
"I take it that didn't go so well?" Waria asked as she felt Mira's practiced hands begin working their way through her mane. The red haired pilot's eyes were closed as she stood with her head under the spray of the shower. Mira simply nodded.
"Yeah. She doesn't want to talk about it."
Waria grunted.
"Figures. You think we should have Commander Jelka kick her ass?"
Mira shook her head.
"We'd better not. She won't like it if she has to get involved with a personal matter, and we don't really have justification for bringing her in at this point anyway."
. "So what do we do now? Wait?"
Mira nodded.
"I think that's all we can do at this point."
The two lapsed into silence as Mira continued to work on Waria's hair.
