title: yellow
fandom: starfighter
subject: abel
word count: 247
rating: PG-13
warnings: name spoiler
notes: non-canon
015. yellow
You're only here cuz Daddy made a name for himself in the alliance.
That's not true.
You don't have any real talent, you just suck dick to get to the top.
That's also not true.
You're a waste of a perfectly good navigator - you'll be discharged soon enough if we're lucky.
Slander is a common consequence of being on top. Ethan knew this the moment he enlisted and received an acceptance letter from the Starfleet Academy. Sure he wasn't typical Navigator material, not born and bred for fighting... and yes it's true that he came from a relatively well to do family, but that had nothing to do with it either. His place in Starfleet was earned through countless hours of dedicated training and no half-assed shortcut or sexual favor gave him assistance in being the highest-ranking officer of his class.
Jealousy spurs his fellow navigators to try and tear him down, only recently has it occurred to him that the true color of envy is not green.
It also doesn't help that his own good standing secured him a partnership with the most skilled fighter in their fleet's quadrant. He runs his fingers nervously through his freshly bleached hair; the natural color underneath prevents the platinum from taking completely and instead leaves behind small traces of an unusual off-color blonde. As either a defiant gesture or out of sheer forgetfulness Ethan does not bleach his eyebrows.
Tomorrow they will meet and begin a new assignment.