Tales of the Wanderer: Book 2 - "Wandering Aces"
Chapter 10: "Your Presence is Requested"
Once more Muck Thunders seemingly ceased to exist as he was relieved on station by the Star Ranger, so to speak. As the familiar change crept across him, so did a familiar mental shift. Not to say that he wasn't still the same person inside. but there were distinct differences. Star Ranger wasted no time, blasting clear of the airlock and transforming to his fastest flight mode in one smooth motion. One part of him was receiving a vector from Sammie on the bridge over the radio while another converted it into a course and sent him racing down it at top speed. And all through it, he wavered between a fear of not getting there in time and a determination to make certain he did. Time. that was the critical factor.
Time, Time, Time. See what's become of me. He began to hum to himself.
Audio File Identified. Commencing Playback. Surprised, Star Rangers speed slacked a bit as the first chords of the original recording of the song flooded through his ears. Shaking it off, he let the song flow over him, encouraging him to his best speed possible.
Have you always been able to do that?? he queried the probe brain that formed the other 'half' of his consciousness as the song drew to a close.
Negative. File was present but un-indexed until you Identified it.
That's not what I meant.
Negative. Believe new abilities result of damage during insertion.
Understood. Can you access Battlepod structural data?
Affirmative.
Target analysis.
Initial analysis indicates standard tactics non-effective. Commencing alternate tactics analysis. A small window opened in the corner of his vision, containing a small representation of a rotating battlepod, covered with flashing lines and vectors as the computer worked the problem and Star Ranger screamed in on the developing furball.
* * * * * * * * *
Max glanced at the tactical display dispassionately. The last two survivors of his escort flight had just gone down, but the enemy was down to a dozen plus their officer leader. He was down to his last clip of ammo for his autocannon. The remaining enemy looked to be moving for an englobing attack, to try and pull him down by sheer numbers. TWO last minute rescues in one day seemed a bit absurd to him as he imaged the mecha's hands slapping the last clip into place; it looked like today was not his day to cheat death after all. Still, he was going to take as many of them with him as he could.
* * * * * * * * *
A most evil sneer crossed Kyhron's face as he held back slightly; He was certain that this was the same pilot who had bested even Miriya Padrino, and now the fool was about to maneuver himself right into Kyhron's crosshairs. giving him the victory that had eluded HER.
A threat detection signal diverted his attention momentarily, irritating him. Clearly the thing was malfunctioning and had accidentally categorized a non-threat. if whatever it was had been less than a minute away, it would have opened fire by now. Snarling a Zentraedi curse, he smacked the offending equipment with the back of his hand, silencing it, then turned his attention back to his eminent victory. A quick jink brought the Micronian square into his cross-hairs. with no place to dodge without bringing him into the fire of another pod. He squeezed the trigger, shocked when instead of obliterating his foe, his top mounted autocannon exploded instead. As he struggled to control the damaged pod, an impossibly small enemy mecha flashed past him at a seemingly impossible speed, but he was far to busy to notice.
* * * * * * * * *
Three pods went down on Star Rangers first pass through the melee; one to a shattered viewport thanks to the Star shield, another to sliced off cockpit hinges, and a third had its power grid shorted out by a well placed EMP pulse. Max accounted for four more with the ammunition remaining in his autocannon, and the disarray amongst the enemy was complete. The enemy, unable to track the miniature Veritech that was Star Ranger, fell back; loosing two more of its number to Max's accurate laser fire as he returned to fighter mode. Before Kyhron could stop them, his remaining pods fled the enemy, only to meet death once the Back-stabber caught them and executed his own summary justice.
Max, too, was caught by surprise by this turn of events. To him, one second he was in the final battle, the next the sky was clear save for the few retreating survivors. It wasn't until a strange thump emanated from behind him that he finally laid eye-balls on the Star Ranger, hanging on to his plane over the port engine inlet.
"Hey, buddy. give a friend a lift, willya?" Star Ranger asked over the radio. The voice, though metallic, was clearly that of Muck, and somehow a sense of exhaustion came though both the radio encryption AND the metallic overtones that replaced Muck's normal baritone.
Max had been cleared in on Star Ranger not long after Muck had been assigned to them, but he'd never actually SEEN Muck in Star Ranger mode before. "No problem. Sterling Airlines never turns away a passenger," Max quipped, his mental equilibrium returning. "Would you like coffee, tea, or milk?"
"Just home ASAP, Max. This took more out of me than I expected," Star Ranger murmured in return, shifting his metallic body to lie prone along the top of the plane behind the cockpit to minimize the disturbance to plane's flight characteristics. Minutes passed in silence while Max flew the plane and took a good look at Star Ranger in his rear-view mirrors. Star Ranger really was an almost exact duplicate of the Super Veritech that Rick had used to bail him out an hour earlier. though Dr. Lang claimed that he'd already had the design for the super's in mind before ever laying eyes on Star Ranger.
"Aren't you supposed to be on CIC watch?" Max finally asked.
"Had to. Still got a war to win, woman to marry."
"Oh? Who?"
"Green haired chick you've been 'sessing 'bout."
"You know who she IS? AND YOU DIDN'T TELL ME?"
"Chill, Max. You'll meet her when the times right. Gon' be one heck of a firs' date, too."
Max momentarily considered a quick barrel roll to shake Star Ranger up, but settled for a verbal jab instead. "You, Muck, are one bat rastard."
"Tha's nice, Max." There was a long pause before he continued, in a petulant childlike voice, "Are we home, yet?"
"Just about to enter the pattern. Better break off before someone sees you."
"Right, Max. Seeya inside."
* * * * * * * * *
Gloval had just long enough to light his pipe and loose himself in the view out his office window when the intercom shrilled. "Sir, Mr. Thunders is reporting as ordered."
"Very well. Send him in," Gloval ordered as he swung to face his desk. On cue, the hatch slid open and Muck Thunders entered, accompanied, as always when he was in trouble of some sorts, by Sgt. Adam Jury and Cpl. John Bailesu. There was a sort of irony in that, since their detailing to Thunders meant that they had unusually high security clearances for someone of their rank. In fact, given Thunder's recent predilection for causing a stir without meaning to, the two guards were probably sick and tired of seeing their charge.
Thunders came to attention and saluted. "Sir, Reporting as ordered, sir." There was something about his tone that caused Gloval to take a closer look. There was something about him that wasn't quite right. It wasn't his uniform, perfect as always. It was the person. instead of the correct, stiff posture, the salute was slightly sloppy and his tan face was rather pale, as if the man had been drinking. Gloval wasn't positive but he thought he detected a slight sway as Thunders stood at attention.
"You abandoned your post and took unauthorized actions to rescue Lt. Sterling. I'd like to know why."
There was a definite slur to the response. "Sir, I had no choice sir. No-one else could've made." the end of the response was cut off as Muck swayed and started to fall over; only to catch himself on Sgt. Jury and pull himself back upright.
"Are you Alright?" Gloval found himself torn between his concern for reminding his stowaway of the regulations he had placed him under and concern for said stowaway's well being.
Muck blinked owlishly for a second then snapped back into his standard military demeanor. "Sir, Nothing that some rest and a couple of good meal's wont cure, Sir." Still, that slight sway was there.
"While you're loyalty to your squadron mates is commendable, I must remind you that you ARE under my command, and." The end of the reprimand died in the air as Muck collapsed like a limp sack. "DAMN. Sergeant, get a medical team up here. Have him confined to the hospital until Dr. Lang assures you he is fully recovered!"
"Aye aye, Captain."
* * * * * * * * *
"On your feet, Flyboy. We're busting you out of here," Max quipped as he and Rick entered Muck's hospital room. Muck looked up from the portable terminal he was working at and smiled.
"Finally? I was beginning to think Cap'n Gloval had sentenced me to a life of hospital food for abandoning my post." Muck gave a hammed up shudder to show what he thought of THAT. "Fortunately, this little stay has given me time enough to finally crack the capitol strike scenario." Muck had been confined to the hospital for the past week, but three days ago had browbeat the doctors into letting him have a portable terminal on the grounds he'd go stir crazy and level the place by accident if they didn't.
"Yeah, you're out of here," Rick confirmed. "But Gloval's also ordered you onto 3 days of leave. You're also going to have to take another flight physical and re-qual before you're back on flight duty, though."
Muck rolled his eyes at that news. "Cap'n is down right PEEVED at my little stunt, I take it."
"He couldn't decide between giving you a Medal or Court-Maritaling you, so he decided to just ignore the whole thing," Max observed, as Muck striped himself of the Hospital greens he'd been wearing (another concession he'd had to make a stink to get) and pulled on his uniform.
"I think I'd almost prefer a court-martial over a week worth hospital food. I realize they try, but cooking for 100+ just leaches any flavor right out of it."
"Consider it a warning to think twice before pulling such a foolish stunt again," Rick advised as a charge nurse arrived with a stack of paperwork and a wheelchair.
* * * * * * * * *
The trio of Max, Rick, and Muck strolled down the main drag of Macross, the remains of an excellent dinner settling in their middles. The conversation was laid back, consisting mostly of 'what do you want to do now' and various variations of the same when Muck saw a familiar head of green hair enter the Close Encounters arcade. A quick glance confirmed that Max hadn't seen her, so Muck decided to give fate a helping hand.
"What about this place?" he ventured, indicating the arcade.
"Video games? I dunno." Rick wavered.
"Aw, come on, Rick. You've been moping ever since Cmdr. Hayes left. A game or two will cheer you right up!" Max chimed in. With the vote 2-1 against, Rick resigned himself to the inevitable and followed his compatriots in. As the sights and sounds of the Close Encounters arcade washed over him, he admitted to himself that maybe the other two did have a point. There was something about this place that did make him feel better as he joined Max and Muck in choosing a group of machines.
* * * * * * * * *
Rick grumbled as he worked the controls of the Aseop's Fables machine. He knew he had better than average reflexes, and was a darn fine pilot; His job and the #2 position on the kill lists proved that. However, every creature in the game today seemed to have it out for him, and he had the distinct feeling that it was playing with him, instead of the other way around. Seated next to him, Max was zipping through the levels with little problem, triggering a shower of tokens into his payoff tray. Behind them, Muck was playing Ball Gunner, and while Rick couldn't see his score, Muck had attracted a small group of observers. He snapped his attention back to his own game, and went for a snap shot at the fox that was trying to snatch his grapes. He missed, and the game made a consoling sound and flashed the game over screen. Behind him, Muck mock cursed, mindful of the younger crowd, meaning Muck had just been killed out of his game as well. Rick declined to drop yet more tokens into the machine to continue, and instead stood and stretched before moving over to look over Max's shoulder.
"This is supposed to make me feel better?" Rick mock grumbled to Muck as he joined him in looking over Max's shoulder. Muck had a tray full of tokens, about twice that of Rick's winnings, but nowhere near Max's as Max rolled over the game and triggered a veritable flood of tokens; causing Rick to exclaim "Holy cow, Look at that!" Then again, seeing the proof of his junior's prowess did make him feel better, as if living vicariously though them.
Max finished organizing his winnings and stood, comparing the contents of the three trays. "Hmm, Looks like I'm doing better than you two are," he observed in his normal laid back tone.
"Yeah, well, we all know you're THE hot stick when it comes to gunnery, Max," Muck ribbed right back. "How about a challenge where skills are a bit more equal, eh?" Rick rolled his eyes at this. the two of them had been debating the merits of various machines the whole time they had been in the arcade. "Atmosphere duel, you and me. I'll even let you have a VT vs. my A-10."
Max considered the challenge carefully. Always the hot stick, he only had a few flight hours in atmosphere from the SDF's short sojourn on earth; certainly nothing compared to the number of hours Muck claimed. That shy smile crossed his face anyway as he agreed, and the trio made their way down to the ground floor of the arcade. Halfway down the last set of stairs, Muck stopped abruptly, nearly causing a chain reaction.
"Babe alert, guys. 2 o'clock low, green hair," he reported. Rick had little trouble picking her out of the crowd watching her, but didn't think much of it. Max, on the other hand, was a different story.
"Your right, it's her. the one I've been talking about. I've been seeing her all over town! Isn't she something?" Max gushed.
"Well, here's your chance, Max," Muck nudged. "She's on a VT machine, maybe you could interest her in a match, get to know her a bit."
"Why didn't I think of that?" Max gushed, then took off down the stairs in a hurry. "Come on, guys."
Rick shot Muck an Evil glare before heading down the stairs after Max. "What's up your sleeve this time, Muck?"
"Who, Me?" Muck protested, putting on his most innocent face as he followed his boss down the stairs. By the time the pair caught up with Max, he was in deep negotiations with the Green Haired babe.
"Are you willing to bet all that?" she asked, indicating Max's tray of tokens.
"Actually," Muck interrupted, "We'll stake our winnings on this as well." Rick shot a surprised look at Muck, but held is tongue. Miriya's eyes narrowed as she recognized the red haired warrior who had shown her this place, but the extra tokens would take care of immediate expenses, allowing her to concentrate on finding the pilot who had so embarrassed her. In the end, that clinched the deal.
"Very Well," she agreed, and the four of them moved to a head to head machine. Muck made a small flourish of stacking the trays of winnings to one side, squarely between the two, before feeding tokens into the machine.
"Is level B acceptable to both of you?" Muck asked, receiving nods from both participants. He hit the configuration and start buttons, and sat back to watch history being made.
* * * * * * * * *
Despite the her premonition, the actual defeat of her red trimmed battleoid caused Miriya to gasp and slump back in her chair in confusion; She's always expected to find the Micronian ace, but not like this. The instant desire for revenge was tempered by her knowledge of micronian culture, this place was too crowded for her to do anything and get away. In addition, it would be all but impossible to get through the crowds swarming the ace.
The finally indignity was when the red haired warrior slapped her quarry on the back and congratulated him, only to be told it 'really wasn't THAT hard.' She, the greatest Zentraedi pilot ever wasn't that much of a challenge? Shame warred with anger, and she propelled herself from her chair and started to bolt for the door; only to be restrained by the wrist. She whirled to strike down the presumptuous Micronian, but stopped when her eyes met the calm blue ones of her quarry.
"Wait, Please," He asked. "I've been trying to speak with you for the longest time. I'd really like to get to know you better, and this might be my only chance to get your name and phone number."
His grip was soft, yet also firm. and his touch sent shivers coursing along her entire body. At the time, she assumed it was the inbred loathing all Zentraedi had for the opposite sex; looking back on it later, she knew better. "My name is Miriya," she replied, "and I don't have a phone number."
"Well, would you meet me for dinner tomorrow night? 7pm, by the peace fountain?"
"Whatever you want!" Miriya snapped. "Just let me go." That disorienting grip slackened, allowing her to pull free and escape the arcade. It wasn't until the confusing feelings of that touch faded that she realized that she couldn't have done better if she'd planned. 'Oh yes, my enemy. I will meet you tomorrow night and end my humiliation, so I can leave this strange, confusing place.'
* * * * * * * * *
Muck looked up from the sea of paperwork on his desk at the chime and hollered "Enter".
Max, not wearing his uniform for once, entered and looked over the mess and shook his head. "You sure have a strange idea of recovery leave, Muck."
"This? Not exactly. pilot rosters and preliminary training scenarios for the capitol ship plans. Besides, I'm so relaxed I'm ready to chew bulkheads and spit gun rounds. Whadddya need, Max?"
"I'm trying to decide what to wear tonight. I was gonna ask the skipper, but he's not in his quarters. What do you think? The Tie, or the gold chain?"
"You could always go whole hog. Tuxedo, top-hat, cape, cane, and mask. Be a real man of romance and mystery."
Max considered it for a moment. "Well, there is a tux shop in the city. Naa, She'd probably think I was some sort of costumed freak. Nice thought, though."
"Am I the only person in the multiverse who fell for that one?" Muck asked the ceiling before returning his attention to Max. "Don't bother with tie or chain, Max. I think you'll appreciate the freedom by the nights end."
"Sheesh. You make it sound like I'm on my way to a knife fight, not a first date."
Muck just rolled his eyes and made a shooing motion. "Shoo. Go, have a good time, Max. Just be back by morning muster, OK?"
* * * * * * * * *
Muck leaned back in the outdoor chair and watched the Macross come to life around him. A little after 7am, ship time, and the street was only minimally crowded, with a fairly equal balance of foot and vehicular traffic. He was not quite alone on the sidewalk section of Java Joe's as he sipped his drink; three tables over there was a young couple engaged in conversation, their eyes with room for nothing but the other.
Muck sighed at that, following it up with another sip. It was times like this that he worried about ever making his way back to Patricia; He'd like nothing better than to be sitting staring into her eyes the way that young couple were. And that didn't take into consideration that he still had to get home first and make certain the people he'd left behind THERE were all right.
The green haired girl said something her blue haired companion found amusing. Muck snorted in amusement and went for another sip when the caffeine levels in his brain reached sufficient levels to boot up the logic section of his brain. It was just as the coffee reached his tongue that said logic cells provided the facts that Green Hair + Blue Hair must equal Miriya and Max. and that Max was about to be late reporting for duty! This provoked a rather spectacular shower of coffee, drawing Max and Miriya's attention, as well as a couple of looks of disgust from pedestrians who had just avoided Muck's impromptu fountain impersonation. Muck had a bad feeling, even before Max started to babble, forgetting he was in public.
"Hey, Muck!" "Um, Max?" "There's someone I'd like you to meet!" "Max." "Miriya, this is Muck. Muck, Miriya Padrino, of." "MAX!"
Max shut up and looked quizzically at Muck. "What?"
"Ix-nay in ublic-pay, Max," Muck growled, low enough that only Max and Miriya could hear. Max looked around, as if noticing where he was for the first time in a while. entirely probable, given the level of smitten written all over the blue haired pilot's face. Realizing how public the present venue was, Max blushed a beet red and nodded. "Fred's around the corner. Save the talk till then," Muck finished, chucking his now empty coffee cup in the trashcan and heading out around the corner.
Miriya was puzzled by this exchange, but put her trust in Max as he gathered her by the hand and lead the two of them around the corner as well. Her confusion only mounted as Max opened the door to one of the larger private transports Miriya had seen about town and helped her in. The red haired warrior, Muck, was already in, sitting in the front seat of the vehicle and turning to face them. Miriya wondered what happened to the companion Muck had mentioned, since there was no-one else in the vehicle. Still, the way the street noises dampened once the doors were closed indicated that their conversations would at least be more confidential. This show of common sense made her feel more at ease for the first time since she'd looked in those blue eyes the night before and her world changed completely.
Muck looked at the love-struck couple in bemusement. However, there were still some problems that needed to be handled right now. He turned to Miriya first. "Miriya Padrino of the Quadrano elite battalion, I do believe. We've met, but never actually been introduced. I'm Micheal Thunders, but everyone calls me Muck." Miriya nodded slowly at this, absorbing the information; and recalling that she had, in fact, encountered the red haired warrior in the city prior to that fateful challenge a day and a half ago. Muck's attention focused on Max next. "Max, you're supposed to report for morning muster in like, five minutes, you know." This got Muck a shocked look from his fellow aviator, followed by an expression of surprise as Max checked his own watch to confirm that fact.
Max recovered quickly though. "Good thing we met you then. We'll need a ride to the base anyway. I've got to take her to meet Rick, and we'll probably need to get his permission first if we're going to."
"Time out!" Muck rumbled, making a t gesture with his hands. "You're going to take her to meet the CAG dressed like that?" He gestured at Miriya's vest and pant outfit. "Bad Idea."
"I'm not leaving her alone, Muck. Forget it."
"Didn't intend that. You and your new Missus are going clothes shopping." Muck cast around, gaze sweeping across the storefronts on either side of the street. "Get her something nice a frilly. like that, over there," he finished, indicating the yellow sundress in the storefront across the street. "Meet us in the officers mess for lunch. I'll cover for you till then."
"OK, Muck. See ya then."
--------
To be continued in Chap. 11: Wedding Bell Blues.
Once more Muck Thunders seemingly ceased to exist as he was relieved on station by the Star Ranger, so to speak. As the familiar change crept across him, so did a familiar mental shift. Not to say that he wasn't still the same person inside. but there were distinct differences. Star Ranger wasted no time, blasting clear of the airlock and transforming to his fastest flight mode in one smooth motion. One part of him was receiving a vector from Sammie on the bridge over the radio while another converted it into a course and sent him racing down it at top speed. And all through it, he wavered between a fear of not getting there in time and a determination to make certain he did. Time. that was the critical factor.
Time, Time, Time. See what's become of me. He began to hum to himself.
Audio File Identified. Commencing Playback. Surprised, Star Rangers speed slacked a bit as the first chords of the original recording of the song flooded through his ears. Shaking it off, he let the song flow over him, encouraging him to his best speed possible.
Have you always been able to do that?? he queried the probe brain that formed the other 'half' of his consciousness as the song drew to a close.
Negative. File was present but un-indexed until you Identified it.
That's not what I meant.
Negative. Believe new abilities result of damage during insertion.
Understood. Can you access Battlepod structural data?
Affirmative.
Target analysis.
Initial analysis indicates standard tactics non-effective. Commencing alternate tactics analysis. A small window opened in the corner of his vision, containing a small representation of a rotating battlepod, covered with flashing lines and vectors as the computer worked the problem and Star Ranger screamed in on the developing furball.
* * * * * * * * *
Max glanced at the tactical display dispassionately. The last two survivors of his escort flight had just gone down, but the enemy was down to a dozen plus their officer leader. He was down to his last clip of ammo for his autocannon. The remaining enemy looked to be moving for an englobing attack, to try and pull him down by sheer numbers. TWO last minute rescues in one day seemed a bit absurd to him as he imaged the mecha's hands slapping the last clip into place; it looked like today was not his day to cheat death after all. Still, he was going to take as many of them with him as he could.
* * * * * * * * *
A most evil sneer crossed Kyhron's face as he held back slightly; He was certain that this was the same pilot who had bested even Miriya Padrino, and now the fool was about to maneuver himself right into Kyhron's crosshairs. giving him the victory that had eluded HER.
A threat detection signal diverted his attention momentarily, irritating him. Clearly the thing was malfunctioning and had accidentally categorized a non-threat. if whatever it was had been less than a minute away, it would have opened fire by now. Snarling a Zentraedi curse, he smacked the offending equipment with the back of his hand, silencing it, then turned his attention back to his eminent victory. A quick jink brought the Micronian square into his cross-hairs. with no place to dodge without bringing him into the fire of another pod. He squeezed the trigger, shocked when instead of obliterating his foe, his top mounted autocannon exploded instead. As he struggled to control the damaged pod, an impossibly small enemy mecha flashed past him at a seemingly impossible speed, but he was far to busy to notice.
* * * * * * * * *
Three pods went down on Star Rangers first pass through the melee; one to a shattered viewport thanks to the Star shield, another to sliced off cockpit hinges, and a third had its power grid shorted out by a well placed EMP pulse. Max accounted for four more with the ammunition remaining in his autocannon, and the disarray amongst the enemy was complete. The enemy, unable to track the miniature Veritech that was Star Ranger, fell back; loosing two more of its number to Max's accurate laser fire as he returned to fighter mode. Before Kyhron could stop them, his remaining pods fled the enemy, only to meet death once the Back-stabber caught them and executed his own summary justice.
Max, too, was caught by surprise by this turn of events. To him, one second he was in the final battle, the next the sky was clear save for the few retreating survivors. It wasn't until a strange thump emanated from behind him that he finally laid eye-balls on the Star Ranger, hanging on to his plane over the port engine inlet.
"Hey, buddy. give a friend a lift, willya?" Star Ranger asked over the radio. The voice, though metallic, was clearly that of Muck, and somehow a sense of exhaustion came though both the radio encryption AND the metallic overtones that replaced Muck's normal baritone.
Max had been cleared in on Star Ranger not long after Muck had been assigned to them, but he'd never actually SEEN Muck in Star Ranger mode before. "No problem. Sterling Airlines never turns away a passenger," Max quipped, his mental equilibrium returning. "Would you like coffee, tea, or milk?"
"Just home ASAP, Max. This took more out of me than I expected," Star Ranger murmured in return, shifting his metallic body to lie prone along the top of the plane behind the cockpit to minimize the disturbance to plane's flight characteristics. Minutes passed in silence while Max flew the plane and took a good look at Star Ranger in his rear-view mirrors. Star Ranger really was an almost exact duplicate of the Super Veritech that Rick had used to bail him out an hour earlier. though Dr. Lang claimed that he'd already had the design for the super's in mind before ever laying eyes on Star Ranger.
"Aren't you supposed to be on CIC watch?" Max finally asked.
"Had to. Still got a war to win, woman to marry."
"Oh? Who?"
"Green haired chick you've been 'sessing 'bout."
"You know who she IS? AND YOU DIDN'T TELL ME?"
"Chill, Max. You'll meet her when the times right. Gon' be one heck of a firs' date, too."
Max momentarily considered a quick barrel roll to shake Star Ranger up, but settled for a verbal jab instead. "You, Muck, are one bat rastard."
"Tha's nice, Max." There was a long pause before he continued, in a petulant childlike voice, "Are we home, yet?"
"Just about to enter the pattern. Better break off before someone sees you."
"Right, Max. Seeya inside."
* * * * * * * * *
Gloval had just long enough to light his pipe and loose himself in the view out his office window when the intercom shrilled. "Sir, Mr. Thunders is reporting as ordered."
"Very well. Send him in," Gloval ordered as he swung to face his desk. On cue, the hatch slid open and Muck Thunders entered, accompanied, as always when he was in trouble of some sorts, by Sgt. Adam Jury and Cpl. John Bailesu. There was a sort of irony in that, since their detailing to Thunders meant that they had unusually high security clearances for someone of their rank. In fact, given Thunder's recent predilection for causing a stir without meaning to, the two guards were probably sick and tired of seeing their charge.
Thunders came to attention and saluted. "Sir, Reporting as ordered, sir." There was something about his tone that caused Gloval to take a closer look. There was something about him that wasn't quite right. It wasn't his uniform, perfect as always. It was the person. instead of the correct, stiff posture, the salute was slightly sloppy and his tan face was rather pale, as if the man had been drinking. Gloval wasn't positive but he thought he detected a slight sway as Thunders stood at attention.
"You abandoned your post and took unauthorized actions to rescue Lt. Sterling. I'd like to know why."
There was a definite slur to the response. "Sir, I had no choice sir. No-one else could've made." the end of the response was cut off as Muck swayed and started to fall over; only to catch himself on Sgt. Jury and pull himself back upright.
"Are you Alright?" Gloval found himself torn between his concern for reminding his stowaway of the regulations he had placed him under and concern for said stowaway's well being.
Muck blinked owlishly for a second then snapped back into his standard military demeanor. "Sir, Nothing that some rest and a couple of good meal's wont cure, Sir." Still, that slight sway was there.
"While you're loyalty to your squadron mates is commendable, I must remind you that you ARE under my command, and." The end of the reprimand died in the air as Muck collapsed like a limp sack. "DAMN. Sergeant, get a medical team up here. Have him confined to the hospital until Dr. Lang assures you he is fully recovered!"
"Aye aye, Captain."
* * * * * * * * *
"On your feet, Flyboy. We're busting you out of here," Max quipped as he and Rick entered Muck's hospital room. Muck looked up from the portable terminal he was working at and smiled.
"Finally? I was beginning to think Cap'n Gloval had sentenced me to a life of hospital food for abandoning my post." Muck gave a hammed up shudder to show what he thought of THAT. "Fortunately, this little stay has given me time enough to finally crack the capitol strike scenario." Muck had been confined to the hospital for the past week, but three days ago had browbeat the doctors into letting him have a portable terminal on the grounds he'd go stir crazy and level the place by accident if they didn't.
"Yeah, you're out of here," Rick confirmed. "But Gloval's also ordered you onto 3 days of leave. You're also going to have to take another flight physical and re-qual before you're back on flight duty, though."
Muck rolled his eyes at that news. "Cap'n is down right PEEVED at my little stunt, I take it."
"He couldn't decide between giving you a Medal or Court-Maritaling you, so he decided to just ignore the whole thing," Max observed, as Muck striped himself of the Hospital greens he'd been wearing (another concession he'd had to make a stink to get) and pulled on his uniform.
"I think I'd almost prefer a court-martial over a week worth hospital food. I realize they try, but cooking for 100+ just leaches any flavor right out of it."
"Consider it a warning to think twice before pulling such a foolish stunt again," Rick advised as a charge nurse arrived with a stack of paperwork and a wheelchair.
* * * * * * * * *
The trio of Max, Rick, and Muck strolled down the main drag of Macross, the remains of an excellent dinner settling in their middles. The conversation was laid back, consisting mostly of 'what do you want to do now' and various variations of the same when Muck saw a familiar head of green hair enter the Close Encounters arcade. A quick glance confirmed that Max hadn't seen her, so Muck decided to give fate a helping hand.
"What about this place?" he ventured, indicating the arcade.
"Video games? I dunno." Rick wavered.
"Aw, come on, Rick. You've been moping ever since Cmdr. Hayes left. A game or two will cheer you right up!" Max chimed in. With the vote 2-1 against, Rick resigned himself to the inevitable and followed his compatriots in. As the sights and sounds of the Close Encounters arcade washed over him, he admitted to himself that maybe the other two did have a point. There was something about this place that did make him feel better as he joined Max and Muck in choosing a group of machines.
* * * * * * * * *
Rick grumbled as he worked the controls of the Aseop's Fables machine. He knew he had better than average reflexes, and was a darn fine pilot; His job and the #2 position on the kill lists proved that. However, every creature in the game today seemed to have it out for him, and he had the distinct feeling that it was playing with him, instead of the other way around. Seated next to him, Max was zipping through the levels with little problem, triggering a shower of tokens into his payoff tray. Behind them, Muck was playing Ball Gunner, and while Rick couldn't see his score, Muck had attracted a small group of observers. He snapped his attention back to his own game, and went for a snap shot at the fox that was trying to snatch his grapes. He missed, and the game made a consoling sound and flashed the game over screen. Behind him, Muck mock cursed, mindful of the younger crowd, meaning Muck had just been killed out of his game as well. Rick declined to drop yet more tokens into the machine to continue, and instead stood and stretched before moving over to look over Max's shoulder.
"This is supposed to make me feel better?" Rick mock grumbled to Muck as he joined him in looking over Max's shoulder. Muck had a tray full of tokens, about twice that of Rick's winnings, but nowhere near Max's as Max rolled over the game and triggered a veritable flood of tokens; causing Rick to exclaim "Holy cow, Look at that!" Then again, seeing the proof of his junior's prowess did make him feel better, as if living vicariously though them.
Max finished organizing his winnings and stood, comparing the contents of the three trays. "Hmm, Looks like I'm doing better than you two are," he observed in his normal laid back tone.
"Yeah, well, we all know you're THE hot stick when it comes to gunnery, Max," Muck ribbed right back. "How about a challenge where skills are a bit more equal, eh?" Rick rolled his eyes at this. the two of them had been debating the merits of various machines the whole time they had been in the arcade. "Atmosphere duel, you and me. I'll even let you have a VT vs. my A-10."
Max considered the challenge carefully. Always the hot stick, he only had a few flight hours in atmosphere from the SDF's short sojourn on earth; certainly nothing compared to the number of hours Muck claimed. That shy smile crossed his face anyway as he agreed, and the trio made their way down to the ground floor of the arcade. Halfway down the last set of stairs, Muck stopped abruptly, nearly causing a chain reaction.
"Babe alert, guys. 2 o'clock low, green hair," he reported. Rick had little trouble picking her out of the crowd watching her, but didn't think much of it. Max, on the other hand, was a different story.
"Your right, it's her. the one I've been talking about. I've been seeing her all over town! Isn't she something?" Max gushed.
"Well, here's your chance, Max," Muck nudged. "She's on a VT machine, maybe you could interest her in a match, get to know her a bit."
"Why didn't I think of that?" Max gushed, then took off down the stairs in a hurry. "Come on, guys."
Rick shot Muck an Evil glare before heading down the stairs after Max. "What's up your sleeve this time, Muck?"
"Who, Me?" Muck protested, putting on his most innocent face as he followed his boss down the stairs. By the time the pair caught up with Max, he was in deep negotiations with the Green Haired babe.
"Are you willing to bet all that?" she asked, indicating Max's tray of tokens.
"Actually," Muck interrupted, "We'll stake our winnings on this as well." Rick shot a surprised look at Muck, but held is tongue. Miriya's eyes narrowed as she recognized the red haired warrior who had shown her this place, but the extra tokens would take care of immediate expenses, allowing her to concentrate on finding the pilot who had so embarrassed her. In the end, that clinched the deal.
"Very Well," she agreed, and the four of them moved to a head to head machine. Muck made a small flourish of stacking the trays of winnings to one side, squarely between the two, before feeding tokens into the machine.
"Is level B acceptable to both of you?" Muck asked, receiving nods from both participants. He hit the configuration and start buttons, and sat back to watch history being made.
* * * * * * * * *
Despite the her premonition, the actual defeat of her red trimmed battleoid caused Miriya to gasp and slump back in her chair in confusion; She's always expected to find the Micronian ace, but not like this. The instant desire for revenge was tempered by her knowledge of micronian culture, this place was too crowded for her to do anything and get away. In addition, it would be all but impossible to get through the crowds swarming the ace.
The finally indignity was when the red haired warrior slapped her quarry on the back and congratulated him, only to be told it 'really wasn't THAT hard.' She, the greatest Zentraedi pilot ever wasn't that much of a challenge? Shame warred with anger, and she propelled herself from her chair and started to bolt for the door; only to be restrained by the wrist. She whirled to strike down the presumptuous Micronian, but stopped when her eyes met the calm blue ones of her quarry.
"Wait, Please," He asked. "I've been trying to speak with you for the longest time. I'd really like to get to know you better, and this might be my only chance to get your name and phone number."
His grip was soft, yet also firm. and his touch sent shivers coursing along her entire body. At the time, she assumed it was the inbred loathing all Zentraedi had for the opposite sex; looking back on it later, she knew better. "My name is Miriya," she replied, "and I don't have a phone number."
"Well, would you meet me for dinner tomorrow night? 7pm, by the peace fountain?"
"Whatever you want!" Miriya snapped. "Just let me go." That disorienting grip slackened, allowing her to pull free and escape the arcade. It wasn't until the confusing feelings of that touch faded that she realized that she couldn't have done better if she'd planned. 'Oh yes, my enemy. I will meet you tomorrow night and end my humiliation, so I can leave this strange, confusing place.'
* * * * * * * * *
Muck looked up from the sea of paperwork on his desk at the chime and hollered "Enter".
Max, not wearing his uniform for once, entered and looked over the mess and shook his head. "You sure have a strange idea of recovery leave, Muck."
"This? Not exactly. pilot rosters and preliminary training scenarios for the capitol ship plans. Besides, I'm so relaxed I'm ready to chew bulkheads and spit gun rounds. Whadddya need, Max?"
"I'm trying to decide what to wear tonight. I was gonna ask the skipper, but he's not in his quarters. What do you think? The Tie, or the gold chain?"
"You could always go whole hog. Tuxedo, top-hat, cape, cane, and mask. Be a real man of romance and mystery."
Max considered it for a moment. "Well, there is a tux shop in the city. Naa, She'd probably think I was some sort of costumed freak. Nice thought, though."
"Am I the only person in the multiverse who fell for that one?" Muck asked the ceiling before returning his attention to Max. "Don't bother with tie or chain, Max. I think you'll appreciate the freedom by the nights end."
"Sheesh. You make it sound like I'm on my way to a knife fight, not a first date."
Muck just rolled his eyes and made a shooing motion. "Shoo. Go, have a good time, Max. Just be back by morning muster, OK?"
* * * * * * * * *
Muck leaned back in the outdoor chair and watched the Macross come to life around him. A little after 7am, ship time, and the street was only minimally crowded, with a fairly equal balance of foot and vehicular traffic. He was not quite alone on the sidewalk section of Java Joe's as he sipped his drink; three tables over there was a young couple engaged in conversation, their eyes with room for nothing but the other.
Muck sighed at that, following it up with another sip. It was times like this that he worried about ever making his way back to Patricia; He'd like nothing better than to be sitting staring into her eyes the way that young couple were. And that didn't take into consideration that he still had to get home first and make certain the people he'd left behind THERE were all right.
The green haired girl said something her blue haired companion found amusing. Muck snorted in amusement and went for another sip when the caffeine levels in his brain reached sufficient levels to boot up the logic section of his brain. It was just as the coffee reached his tongue that said logic cells provided the facts that Green Hair + Blue Hair must equal Miriya and Max. and that Max was about to be late reporting for duty! This provoked a rather spectacular shower of coffee, drawing Max and Miriya's attention, as well as a couple of looks of disgust from pedestrians who had just avoided Muck's impromptu fountain impersonation. Muck had a bad feeling, even before Max started to babble, forgetting he was in public.
"Hey, Muck!" "Um, Max?" "There's someone I'd like you to meet!" "Max." "Miriya, this is Muck. Muck, Miriya Padrino, of." "MAX!"
Max shut up and looked quizzically at Muck. "What?"
"Ix-nay in ublic-pay, Max," Muck growled, low enough that only Max and Miriya could hear. Max looked around, as if noticing where he was for the first time in a while. entirely probable, given the level of smitten written all over the blue haired pilot's face. Realizing how public the present venue was, Max blushed a beet red and nodded. "Fred's around the corner. Save the talk till then," Muck finished, chucking his now empty coffee cup in the trashcan and heading out around the corner.
Miriya was puzzled by this exchange, but put her trust in Max as he gathered her by the hand and lead the two of them around the corner as well. Her confusion only mounted as Max opened the door to one of the larger private transports Miriya had seen about town and helped her in. The red haired warrior, Muck, was already in, sitting in the front seat of the vehicle and turning to face them. Miriya wondered what happened to the companion Muck had mentioned, since there was no-one else in the vehicle. Still, the way the street noises dampened once the doors were closed indicated that their conversations would at least be more confidential. This show of common sense made her feel more at ease for the first time since she'd looked in those blue eyes the night before and her world changed completely.
Muck looked at the love-struck couple in bemusement. However, there were still some problems that needed to be handled right now. He turned to Miriya first. "Miriya Padrino of the Quadrano elite battalion, I do believe. We've met, but never actually been introduced. I'm Micheal Thunders, but everyone calls me Muck." Miriya nodded slowly at this, absorbing the information; and recalling that she had, in fact, encountered the red haired warrior in the city prior to that fateful challenge a day and a half ago. Muck's attention focused on Max next. "Max, you're supposed to report for morning muster in like, five minutes, you know." This got Muck a shocked look from his fellow aviator, followed by an expression of surprise as Max checked his own watch to confirm that fact.
Max recovered quickly though. "Good thing we met you then. We'll need a ride to the base anyway. I've got to take her to meet Rick, and we'll probably need to get his permission first if we're going to."
"Time out!" Muck rumbled, making a t gesture with his hands. "You're going to take her to meet the CAG dressed like that?" He gestured at Miriya's vest and pant outfit. "Bad Idea."
"I'm not leaving her alone, Muck. Forget it."
"Didn't intend that. You and your new Missus are going clothes shopping." Muck cast around, gaze sweeping across the storefronts on either side of the street. "Get her something nice a frilly. like that, over there," he finished, indicating the yellow sundress in the storefront across the street. "Meet us in the officers mess for lunch. I'll cover for you till then."
"OK, Muck. See ya then."
--------
To be continued in Chap. 11: Wedding Bell Blues.