Fokker

Damn! I thought Roy and I were beyond the secrets stage! Right now, I don't know if I should put the ship at risk and kill him outright or if I should be on my knees in church thanking the Lord that he kept this from me as long as he did. What I do know is with what I just learned, it is going to be a very long time before I manage to sleep peacefully through the night.

-War Diary of Claudia Grant


Overlook Park, Macross City, Bay One – By the Bench

"...Why the hell is THE Slayer on this ship and not on EARTH!"

Two more vampires stepped out of the shadows behind the petite blonde, Roy's eyes flicking outward, marking their positions as his right hand slipped into the small of his back.

"Long story flyboy," the slayer answered, a nearly imperceptible nod of her head acknowledging the warning he had silently communicated. "We'll talk after. Meanwhile, lets make with the dusty."

With that, the girl leaped upward into a reverse somersault. Executing a half twist, she landed a spin kick to the head of the vampire that had been to her back left. The stunned fledgling flew headfirst into one of the nearby trees. His partner turned and charged at the small blonde. As the fight with the slayer developed, the first two vampires grinned at each other and turned toward the pilot and his girlfriend.

Then they began to laugh.

A feral grin gracing his own rough features, Roy Fokker had dropped into a fighting stance. In his right hand the metal blade of a large knife gleamed under the dim illumination.

"Hey, dinner thinks its gonna stop us with a knife," the deeper voiced one chuckled.

"Yeah, like his cutting us is only gonna hurt long enough for us to drain him and the broad."

The two vampires looked at each other and charged. Spinning, Roy slammed the smaller one in the stomach with a side kick that sent it several feet backwards. As he recovered his stance, he lunged forward with the knife, straight at the heart of the larger of the two vampires.

Normally, bringing a knife to a vamp-fight would be the height of stupidity, but the combat knife Roy carried was far different from the standard K-Bar issued to most troops. He had personally designed the custom blade for use against various demonic creatures. In his youth he had contemplated selling them to others of his calling, but the incident with his aunt had turned him from that path. The blade itself was of the purest iron, inlaid through the center body of the blade was a heavy silver-filled etchwork, but most importantly, attached along the spine of the blade up to the vicious swoop that lead from the spine to the point and seated against the guard was a wooden spike. For now, Fokker's blade remained the only combat knife of its kind in existence.

Still laughing, the vampire exploded into a cloud of dust as the wooden spine of the combat knife followed the cold metal point through the Vampire's chest.


Overlook Park, Macross City, Bay One – By the Trees

Buffy was grinning like a madwoman. The tussle in the corridors had only served to whet her appetite, particularly since the three slayers and Xander had made such quick work of the vampires that had interrupted their searching. But this, this mayhem was what her inner slayer reveled in. Sparing a glance from her own two-on one battle she realized that the pilot had already dusted one of the two vamps attacking him.

With a low growl, she realized that it would not look good for the slayer to give the appearance of being rescued by a normal. Even if he was a combat experienced soldier.

She slammed her stake home in the more aggressive of her two opponents.

She pouted. "Why don't I ever get to have any fun."

Grabbing her remaining opponent, she picked him up and flung him at the one scrabbling off the ground to resume its attack on the pilot.

"Fun?" The pilot shouted. "You think this is fun?"

Buffy noted the maniacal grin on the man's face as the two of them closed on the entangled mass of vampire. Reaching down, they each grabbed a neck and lifted the fledglings off the ground. With a synchronized flash of movement Buffy's stake and Roy's knife dusted the remaining two vampires.

"Yep!" she grinned. "And so do you flyboy!"


Overlook Park, Macross City, Bay One – By the Bench

First Claudia was mad. The two punks daring to interrupt her personal time with Roy. Then she was confused as they began talking about her and Roy as food. Two more had shown up and now she was terrified, having gotten a good look at the faces of the things that were attacking them. The fact that Roy and the blonde he had called 'Slayer' had literally reduced the four to dust only made the fear worse. When the stuff of horror movies and bad tweenybopper fiction came to un-life in front of you and threatened to make you a midnight snack, it tended to turn one's life on its ear.

"You know, you're right," Roy chuckled.

The blonde separated herself from Roy and walked toward the bench as Claudia sat staring blankly off toward the city.

Kneeling, she took Claudia's hand. "By your expression, I'm guessing that explaining this away as 'gangs on PCP' isn't going to work."

Claudia blinked. "Gangs on PCP?"

"Town I grew up in had a real problem with vampires and other demons. Gangs on PCP, Barbecue fork accidents, wild animal attacks. The local police department had a whole book of coverup options."

"Other demons?" Claudia shivered.

"Don't worry, we're pretty sure that only vampires made it on-board and they're pretty easy to keep under control. I'm Buffy Summers, pest control is kinda my job."

"Claudia Grant." Claudia nodded, then looked up at Roy and her vision went red. "YOU KNEW!"

Roy flinched. "What?"

"You knew about these... these... THINGS!" She growled. "How did you know and why didn't you tell me?"

"I... ah..." Roy glanced at Buffy.

"Claudia," Buffy spoke softly. "Would you have believed him if you hadn't seen them tonight?"

Claudia dropped her head into her hands and began to shake.

"C'mon flyboy. Grab your girl and lets get out of the open." She gestured aft, toward a building sitting slightly separate on a rise. "We need to talk about a few things. Starting with your name?"

Roy shook his head as he scooped Claudia up in his arms. "Roy. Roy Fokker."


IWC Headquarters

"ANDREW!" Buffy's shout rattled the building.

The geek bustled out of a nearby office and froze at the sight of Roy carrying a still shaky Claudia. "Vamp attack? Medical emergency? Is she hurt?"

"Woah, I only accept Willowbabble from the original source." Buffy flinched, holding her hand up. "Food. And something stiff to drink for our guests."

Dawn came down the stairs from the second floor with her nose buried in a book. "First back, I see. With those dulcet tones and company, I'd say you had a slightly more than uneventful patrol?"

Buffy shook her head. "I'm reducing the amount of time you're allowed around Giles."

In eminently mature, sisterly fashion, the two girls stuck their tongues out at each other.

"Where is he, by the way?"

"Lounge, late dinner." Dawn glanced at the two accompanying her sister. "What happened?"

"They got jumped by four vamps at the overlook."

"Ouch, of course after the other day, it had to start sometime."

Buffy gestured down the hallway. "Roy, if you two will come with me, we'll get you a bite to eat and then we can each make with some explanations."

The pilot nodded and followed her to the door to the lounge. As he maneuvered Claudia through the door and over to a leather sofa he noted a gentleman near his own age fixing a cup of coffee on the other side of the room. While he got his girlfriend settled on couch, Buffy walked over and began filling the man in on the night's activities. From the sound of the low conversation, the man was most likely her watcher.

The snippets of voice he could hear sounded vaguely familiar, of course the tweed encrusted tones of the council had once been the familial birthright he refused. Briefly he met the eyes of the man, noting how he stood, polishing his glasses through Buffy's account.

Andrew bustled through the door with a bottle of scotch and a tray of glasses. He poured a pair and handed them to Roy. "Food will be right out," and the young man was out the door again.

During the distraction, the watcher and slayer had approached the sofa. As he looked up, recognition dawned and he clambered to his feet.

"Ripper!" Roy threw his arms around the man he had not seen in 25 years.

"Skulls," Giles smiled. "From what Buffy says, you haven't lost your edge."

"Speaking of," Roy groused. "Not that I'm complaining about having my life saved and all, but would someone tell me what the hell the Slayer is doing out here and not back on earth?"

Buffy dropped into an armchair across the low table from them. "He really hasn't kept up with the latest news has he?"


IWC Headquarters' Lounge

Roy sat at the table shaking his head in disbelief. "So you're telling me that every potential slayer has been activated?"

"No," Buffy answered. "Every potential slayer has been given the choice. Some have refused the calling, but the majority have accepted. The IWC has taken responsibility for their training and well being. We, I, no longer tolerate any of the crap Travers and his cronies pulled."

"And you're now head of the council," Roy stated, smiling as slayers and watchers filtered into the room from their patrols. "About damn time! How many of you are aboard ship?"

"We've a dozen slayers and four watchers here. Also, our top Witch is on the engineering crew," Buffy glanced at the gathering crowd in the room. "So Roy, what's your story?"

Fokker glanced at Claudia and then at Giles. "Slayers aren't the only ones with short life-spans in the demon slaying business. In fact, quite often slayers are preceded in death by their watchers."

Buffy's face fell into a dark mask as memories of Merrick, her first watcher bubbled beneath the surface.

Her watcher reached across the table and took her hand. "Buffy, in the old council all the field watchers were aware of the risks."

"Wait," Xander interjected. "Buffy was a virtually untrained slayer when you were assigned Giles."

"THAT BASTARD!"

"Buffy," Giles' unnaturally calm voice answered. "Travers is dead."

"Then I'll have Willow resurrect his ASS so I can SLAY IT!"

Giles pulled his glasses off and pinched his nose. "Buffy."

"He sent you to someone he believed could not protect you. He sent you to die, Giles."

"And yet I am still here."

"And Travers is not." Roy pointed out.

Giles looked over at his old friend. "Anna?"

Nodding slowly, Roy began his story. "It was soon after Travers deposed Rupert's father as head of the council. My family's support for the previous leadership was a somewhat less than minor irritant. While Ripper and I were off terrorizing the countryside as teenagers council politics were being waged using ancient and well established draconian methods. Quentin was still consolidating his grip on the leadership when it was discovered that a hidden potential had been called. Untrained and virtually ignorant of what it was she was meant to face."

Roy took a deep, rattling breath as Claudia wrapped her arm around his shoulders. "Travers perceived my aunt as a potential threat to his newly acquired power base. She knew, of course. I still have the journals Aunt Anna shipped home. But the girl was her slayer and, as I am sure Giles understands, she couldn't not be a part of her fight.

"I was young and hotheaded. How could I be a part of an organization that treated its people that way. Giles here, he could see a future where Travers wasn't in charge, but me. If I'd have stayed there would have been war in the council," Roy nodded toward Buffy, his hard voice softening. "And very possibly, that war would have resulted in a failure to prevent any one of the multiple apocalypses that threatened before your own calling.

"So I left, and went as far as I could from the supernatural. Hooked up with a guy by the name of Pops Hunter. He taught me to fly. And I don't just mean sitting up front and driving the bus either. He taught me to taste the wind, to become one with my machine. In the air, well maybe it's something in the council genes, the extra senses that we all seem to develop for the supernatural. Or maybe it was the magic we dabbled in, but out there, even before these Robotech ships I could feel it, cool air flowing across my wings like a tingle down my spine or fast water flowing past my skin.

"But my flying. It wasn't done just for me. Not the stunt shows nor later the combat. No, I flew for Anna. If she could give her everything, knowing that her situation was hopeless. Even though I'd walked away from the council, how could I do less. So I flew and I fought. I became the best, because no matter how good I could be, it would never be as great as what she was."

Roy raised his glass. "To Anna. Watcher. Mentor. Martyr. Absent friend. And my favorite aunt."

Giles raised his own glass. "To Anna Fokker." Tears glistened in the eyes of the assembled slayers and watchers as each raised their own glass, thinking of the many friends who had fallen.

As the glasses were lowered Roy got a thoughtful look.

Claudia, recognizing her boyfriend's expression cocked her head. "What are you thinking Roy?"

"I'm thinking that I've got a class of recruits starting in a week who need to learn hand to hand combat skills if they're going to use their Veritechs properly." He looked at Giles and Buffy. "I know how the old council was about its independence, in fact that is one of the few things I could agree with them about. But your skills and the ability to impart them to my pilots could mean the difference in our survival out here. I can set it up as an independent contract with the IWC if that would help.

Buffy turned to the red haired slayer who had perched on the arm of the sofa. "Vi, would you mind fetching your journal? You know which volume I need."

The girl nodded and hustled out of the room.

"With vampires on board ship, we do have responsibilities, not only to the civilians, but to the entire crew. However," she waved her arms to encompass the entirety of the room. "We are all here for a reason."

Roy blinked, unsure if he wanted to hear the next part. In his limited council training and experience, slayers having a reason to be in a particular place was not generally considered to be good news.

"Tell me, Commander Fokker. How would you handle a fifty foot tall alien who managed to get turned?"

"Ah..."

Vi returned to the room with her journal, handing it to the senior slayer. Buffy thumbed through to a marked page where the redhead had sketched an extremely accurate rendition of a Valkyrie fighter in Battleiod mode, holding a wooden stake.

Turning the journal, she held it out to the pilot. "Vi's a pretty talented artist. You'll note the date of these entries."

Roy took the journal, thumbing through the pages on either side of the drawing he looked into the younger slayer's eyes. "This is your dream journal?"

Vi nodded. "I'm not the only one who has had these dreams."

Most of the slayers in this room have shared similar ones to those you're reading," Buffy continued. "It was the accumulated dreams of all the slayers that convinced us that we should be here, on this ship instead of back home."

The battleoid mode of the VF-1 Valkyrie had been a closely held secret up to the day of the SDF-1's launch. Had it not been for the alien attack, Roy had no doubt it would still be top secret. He tapped his finger on the drawing, again noting the date. A date literally years before the first Veritech fighter flew. "So you're asking..."

Buffy nodded slowly. Everyone else in the room joining her.

Roy sat there in thought. "Training for training?"

"Plus the necessary equipment."

"Out there, you'll follow orders, just like any other squadron."

Twelve pairs of arms crossed, their accompanying heads cocking to one side, each bearing identical you think I was born yesterday expressions.

"We fight our own way," Buffy spoke for the slayers. "You know our calling. For now, the enemy has not been in a position to have physical contact with any of our toothy friends. But it will happen and when it does, they become our primary target. Until then, consider us a special operations unit."

"Okay, knowing how slayers fight, I can live with that. But first, we have to bring the Captain on board with all of this."


IWC Headquarters – Residential Wing

"Vi, Appie." Dawn came up behind and grabbed the two slayer's shoulders as they returned to their rooms. "Got a sec?"

The two younger slayers glanced at each other and grinned. Dawn had taken to involving the two of them in the rather elaborate pranks she aimed at her older sister.

Steering the two of them into her room, she dug an envelope out of her purse and handed it to them as she shut the door. A moment later squeals and giggles echoed through the closed door and down the corridor.


Captain's Office – Outside the SDF-1 Bridge

Henry Gloval glanced down from his review of the previous day's log and checked the time on the monitor. The expected knock came as he sipped his coffee.

"Commander Fokker, Lieutenant Commander Grant, do come in." The Captain's cultured, slavic accent putting those in hearing more in mind of a kindly uncle than that of a man with the absolute power of life and death over 75,000 people.

Gloval's CAG and Second Officer escorted three others into the office. "Captain Gloval," Roy gestured. "I'd like to introduce Rupert Giles, Buffy Summers, and Willow Rosenberg."

Gracious, Henry rose, taking each person's hand and greeting them warmly. "A pleasure to meet all of you. Commander Fokker has indicated that your people have offered him an exchange of services in the interest of our mutual survival."

"Perhaps Sir," Giles responded. "Our organization has certain resources at our disposal. Resources that we have mutually decided to offer in exchange for certain considerations relating to our charter."

"And what, exactly, is your organization?" The Captain reached for his ever-present pipe, resting the stem in the corner of his mouth.

"The International Watcher's Council is an NGO. We have treaty level agreements with all major and most second tier nations and the UN. Our purview is planetary protection from non-standard threats."

"Such as alien invasions." Gloval stated.

"Not precisely, Sir," Buffy answered, pulling a folder and several thumb drives out of the (stylish, of course) satchel that was draped over her shoulder. "Under our agreements with the UN and the major powers, we will need you to sign the non-disclosure forms first."

Henry took a moment to scan through the form, noting that it was a relatively standard format very similar to the ones he had first encountered upon being initiated into the SDF-1 program, and he said so.

"Ah yes," Giles said, polishing his glasses. "Our predecessor organization was initially approached about overseeing this program, however at the time we were rather involved with a rather critical matter and the old council felt they could only act in an advisory capacity."

"Bozhe Moi!" Gloval had begun reading the first page while Giles had been speaking. "This... This is pradylka!"

Buffy and Willow exchanged glances while Claudia tried to disappear into her chair.

"I assure you Captain. The contents of the folder are no joke." Giles answered.

"Oopeer? Vampires?" Captain Gloval's notorious temper was beginning to kick in. "Skazan eyah!"

Willow flinched as he spat out the last phrase. "Most every fairy tale and myth has a basis in solid fact, Captain."

Giles leaned forward. "I can verify my bonafides, if you would bring up the ship's security confirmation system."

"With this pahvyest?" Eyes bugging out of his rugged face, Gloval keyed in the command for the security program then gestured for Giles to speak.

"Computer. Security verification Indigo Whiskey Charlie Romeo George Charlie Echo Oscar."

"Sir Rupert Giles voice print verified." The computer immediately scrolled up a screen full of text which Gloval began to read.

Several times, the Captain looked up at the watcher with a piercing stare then back at his screen. Willow reached out and placed a hand on Buffy's arm as the slayer began twitching in her seat.

Finally, Gloval fixed a fiercely displeased look on the pilot. "Are you aware, Commander, exactly who it is you have escorted into my office? What kind of power this man wields?"

Roy nodded. "Sir, I've known Rupert since we were both young boys. From birth until I left home to become a pilot, I was trained for a similar role to that which he has shouldered for the last fourteen years."

"I see." Gloval clamped down on the pipe, considered lighting it, hesitated, reached for his matches and hesitated again. He pointed at the screen full of text on the monitor. "Commander, according to this, if your friend asked me for this ship, I am required to give it to him and ask no questions."

Roy swallowed hard and glanced at the unassuming man in the tweed jacket.

"Gentlemen, I assure you that such authority would only be exercised at the direst need. All we wish to do here is put best use to the abilities we have in the interest of our mutual survival."

"And what is it that a demon hunting," Gloval spat the two words out with distaste, "organization can bring to the table?"

"Twelve unparalleled warriors to act as unarmed combat trainers for your recruits and active personnel. In exchange, we ask that these twelve young women also be trained as pilots and assigned Valkyrie(?)," Giles glanced at Roy who nodded, "fighters. We have reason to believe that our foes may develop vampiric traits and it would be best if we were prepared for such an eventuality in advance of needing the capability. Once trained, the ladies would make themselves available to the defense forces as a special operations group up until such time as their primary calling comes to fore."

"What makes these twelve young women so special?"

"They're slayers, Sir" Roy answered.

"Slayers?"

"Page twelve in the folder," Buffy nodded toward the papers under Gloval's elbow. "The paragraph begins with 'Contrary to popular mythology, the world did not begin as a paradise...'"

Once more the Captain's eyes grew wide as he skimmed the section on the slayer's capabilities. "And these girls, they are real?"

"We are Captain." Buffy answered, reaching into her bag and handing the Captain a length of steel re-bar. "If you would care to try to bend this?"

Gloval took the piece of steel and flexed it, but made little progress in deforming it. Taking it back from him, Buffy twisted the bar first into the shape of a pretzel, then further, into a coil which she proceeded to slip onto her arm and study like a new piece of jewelry. With a grin, she looked up at the the Captain. "I might have to tell Xander I've found a new use for his scrap pile."

Henry looked at her for a moment then began to chuckle. The chuckle soon became a full fledged laugh and the tension in the room finally dissipated.

"Captain," Buffy smiled. "The girls and I would be honored if you would join us for dinner some evening this week. We would be happy to give you a demonstration of our fighting abilities. Perhaps even take you out with us on a patrol of the city."

Willow and Giles both flinched as Buffy said the word patrol.

"Patrol?" The Captain asked. "Why, gavareets skazats, would you be patrolling aboard my ship?"

"Ah," Buffy winced. "Humans were not the only beings rescued from Macross Island's shelters."

Gloval merely stared at her until she began to twitch in her seat.

The slayer ducked down in her seat. "Uh. There seems to be at least one nest of vampires on board."

"Bozhe Moi!"


Macross City – Main Shopping District

"Appie, what do you think?"

April looked up from the store's dress catalog as Dawn stepped out of the changing room. "Uh..."

"GAH!" Dawn spun back to the dressing room.

"I told you that lavender wouldn't look good on you."

"Where's Vi?" Dawn shouted from behind the door.

"She's chatting with the sales-lady about other available colors and styles."

"Not here," the brunette grumped. "I want to try that specialty shop we saw in grid seven before I decide to go custom. As is, I don't need this for several weeks yet."

Vi drifted back from the sales counter. "Dawnie, I know you have your heart set on finding the perfect evening gown, but have you considered. Evening gown's are easy, find the right style and get it custom tailored for you."

Dawn stuck her head around the door. "Well, if the evening gown is so easy, what do you suggest we should trying to find?

Vi and April looked at each other, grinned then chorused.

"The perfect swimsuit!"