"Two Types"

Location: SSF forward base

A pair of feet methodically but impatiently marched down the hall. Only when she reached her destination did Buzzard exhale. Gripping the door knob, she barged in.

"Vulture, are you still up? We need to-"

It took a second for Buzzard's mind to catch up to what she saw. She had spotted her rambunctious sister still in her room, yes. But what gave her brain pause was what Vulture was doing, especially in the company of Enterprise.

The two carriers looked up at their sudden visitor. But in Vulture's eyes it was more an intruder, even if it was her own sibling standing before her. "Geez, what do you want, sis?"

Buzzard was still at a loss for what the two were doing in the room, gathered in front of a brightly-lit television screen. "... What were you doing?"

"What's it look like, brainiac? I'm introducing 'ol Enty here to my collection." Vulture gestured to the TV and the controller in her hand.

The bespectacled carrier took a moment to comprehend what her sister meant, groaning as she did. "... Don't tell me you were in here playing your video games, much less trying to get Enterprise into them."

"Well, they are my guilty pleasure," Enterprise admitted, coming to Vulture's defense. "Your sister had the idea of showing me what she had so that I may have something to relax with while I'm here."

"Or did you not think about it?" Vulture asked in a teasing tone.

Buzzard's frown stretched as she glared back at her sister. "... Point taken," she grumbled.

"Is there a situation?" inquired Enterprise.

"Of sorts, yes," Buzzard answered, content to change gears. "My dear sister Vulture was supposed to be out on afternoon patrol."

A groan was heard from the sister in question. "Oh come on, Buzz-"

"Shush, you. Get up and sortie out already, you were supposed to be down at dock six minutes ago. The sooner you get this over with, the sooner you can relax. Let's go, up up up."

"Okay okay, I'm up," whined the short-haired carrier. She dragged herself to pluck her coat from the rack, draping it over her unenthusiastic shoulders without care. As far as she was concerned, this was how she always dressed for missions - this was good enough.

Vulture ignored her sister's quiet sulking at her continued disregard for regulations. "Come on, Enty. Let's get outta here."

"Sure." Enterprise brushed past Buzzard, her own coat already swung over her shoulders and hat just tucked on her head. "The game can wait until we return. I am still looking forward to it, Vulture."

"Heh. I bet you are," the tomboy replied with a promising grin. "I'll let you take a shot once I show you a thing or two. Oh and…"

Buzzard watched as the two departed, their talk fading into the distance with them down the corridor. Only when they turned out of sight towards the harbor did she relax.

She turned away, looking back inside Vulture's room which prompted a sigh. A single bunk bed found cramped company with all sorts of ancillary furniture and belongings, the single column dresser adorned with scrapes, stickers, and other of her mischievous sister's possessions littered on top. Buzzard could scarcely imagine what she had crammed within, extending her disbelief to the wardrobe, a drawer, and the various flat-headed containers stuffed beneath the bed that failed to escape her notice. But what drew her ire above all was the speckled floor, the carpet littered with loose wrappers, paper scraps, food crumbs, and eraser shavings.

An eyebrow began twitching uncontrollably at the sight of the floor. 'Oh my god Vulture… I am going to need a word with you regarding hygiene conduct…'

Buzzard bent down to pick up after her sister, muttering as she did. She tossed what she gathered into a bin, cursing at how much was already inside.

Wiping her hands clean, Buzzard scanned what else remained until her eyes fell upon the elephant in the room: the TV. The screen remained vibrant albeit stagnant of life as the display hung on what was an options menu. Buzzard's eyes then immediately recognized the game console still hooked up to the television, a slim and angular box whose neon trimmed-lights glowed. Following a wire that snaked from its face, Buzzard was led to a plastic controller and mound of thin plastic boxes, all equally discarded by their owner in her retreat.

As she knelt down, Buzzard instantly took note of the decorative face of the box on the top pile, recognizing it as she read the cover name.

'Oh this. I remember; it's from the franchise that Vulture plays. "Air Combat". I've seen her play those games countless times before, among many others. Always with her focus glued to the screen and the action…'

She peered at the still-active game, seeing it frozen in time, abandoned by its owner with the hopes that they would return. Perusing the display, an interesting discovery intrigued her.

'Hm. As someone who I presume has committed considerable time into this, Vulture has attained a rather low amount of accolades… Its own medal collection. Why're there so many gaps?...

'And what's this? She's graded on every level but they're… mediocre?! Bs, Cs, where're the As?!

'Oh this will not stand. I will not allow my unruly sibling get away with subpar performance!'

Later…

"Pwah! In and out, quick as a wink. Wish all patrols went this smoothly!"

"Certainly. But vigilance is never a bad thing, Vulture."

"You're sounding like Buzz there," the carrier shrugged. "Well, whatevs. C'mon, still got that game I wanted to show you!"

As the two carriers rounded the corner with brisk peps in their steps, they stumbled to sudden stop. They screeched to a halt as though they ran into a wall - in this case the wall happened to be Buzzard.

"Vulture! What was the meaning of this?!"

The carrier recoiled away, taken aback by her sister's furor. "W-what do you mean? What'd I do this time?!"

With the snapping wave of her hand, Buzzard gestured to the TV. All eyes were drawn to the screen, Vulture's growing wide once she recognized what it was.

"Vulture, how could you be so content with your middling performance?"

With a baffled look, Vulture could only be aghast at what had transpired. "Y-you played my game while I was gone?! And- and where'd all these achievements and top scores come from?"

"Hmph. You have me to thank for." Vulture whirled around to be met with a look of accomplishment from Buzzard. "Do you realize how simple some of them were? An elementary challenge that you should have had no problem overcoming."

Vulture was at a loss for words but finally let out a sigh. "Look Buzz. Thanks for the help, but I didn't need it. Really! I didn't need all those good scores and medals to show off to Enty."

The Eagle carrier joined her side. "It's alright Buzzard. Some challenges are nice, but I don't mind playing video games for fun either."

Buzzard was upon the two. "Nonsense! Why make those goals if not to reach them? Why settle with mediocrity in the virtual world if we do not in real life? Strive to do your best! Put in some effort! From here on, you will not abandon a game until you have achieved everything laid out for you!"

Vulture could only shake her head in grief. "Buzz, c'mon."

"'Buzz' nothing! You must S-rank those missions and 100% complete a game or else!"

In the background, Enterprise thought with worry. 'So she's that kind of gamer…'

"Universal Greetings"

Location: SSF port facility

"... and that was the last we ever saw of 'The Dot', the inscrutable mystery of the skies."

Javelin's eyes stayed wide all the way to the conclusion. "Wow…"

"Until next time… until the next extraterrestrial mystery on… 'The X-Docs'!"

Sitting beside her, Cormorant shared her sense of wonder. "Cool episode, right? Wait until you see the others: The Dot is just one of many UFO sightings captured on camera, particularly from an aircraft. Though it's rather strange how often recorded sightings are done with such fuzzy resolution…"

"You've ever seen one?" the Royal Navy destroyer asked with inspired twinkle in her eyes.

Cormorant nervously scratched the back of her head. "Heh, no. Not yet. Hoping I do at some point. Always a good thing that gets readers talking if I can get a good shot of one, although in this day and age people will say that it's just some experimental fighter jet."

As she nodded, Javelin caught someone walking by in the corner of her eye. Turning to see, she saw Brooklyn. "Oi Brooklyn!"

"Hello Javelin," the diplomat waved back. "What were you watching?"

"'The X-Docs'. It's all about cool and mysterious UFO sightings!"

"UFOs, huh?" Brooklyn tapped her chin. "Can't say I'm an avid believer of such things, even in spite of all the evidence. Personally I can't imagine there being anything so enigmatic without any resolute explanation. Other than the Sirens, I doubt alien life even does exist."

Javelin pouted. "Aww. But that's no fun."

"I-is it…?" Brooklyn wondered aloud. Noticing the young girl's look of dismay, she swiftly moved to buoy her spirits. "Er, having said that, that doesn't mean we can't assume they don't exist. We do receive sightings and reports of things nobody can explain. In fact, Eagle Union has a small department dedicated to tracking those incidents, collate what is known, and even preparing potential scenarios including communication. As someone specialized for reaching out to foreign entities, I have been taught specialized procedures should there be an alien encounter."

Hearing this, Javelin's face lit like a star. "Wot, really?! What sort of procedures?!"

Brooklyn shied away. "Oh it's… nothing really special."

"Already having the means to make verbal contact with an otherworldly being isn't nothing special!" argued Cormorant, a voice recording already clutched in her hands. Her face sparkled like the Royal destroyer's. "I haven't dug deep, but even I don't believe the Silver Star Federation has an contingency for alien contact! I would be all ears to hear what Eagle Union has already thought of!"

The diplomat ship blushed. She flustered lightly from hungry stares but finally Brooklyn relented. "Very well. Now I can't reveal too much, but I can share with you some universal greetings."

"Universal greetings?"

"As devised by Eagle Union R&D and by someone well-versed in many forms of communication," Brooklyn explained with a friendly wink. "It is believed that certain phrases can be readily understood by a variety of species and dialects. As a diplomat, it is my job to understand and to be understood by those not from our world."

Javelin was delighted. "Ooh, okay! So what're they?"

"Recorder on and we're live," murmured Cormorant before giving the light cruiser for full undivided attention.

Clearing her throat, Brooklyn began. But rather than words, pitched tones whistled forth. A certain tune, starting normally, then high, then low, then back normal by the final tune. Five sounds, almost like a call.

Javelin blinked. "What was that?"

"Five tones; a greeting for those who seek close encounters of unknown kinds," explained Brooklyn. "Can be performed through any medium, so long as it is those five pitches in that order." She whistled the same pattern again for emphasis. Javelin gasped in awe; encouraged by her reaction, the cruiser continued.

"Here's the next one: klaatu barada nikto."

Javelin scratched her head. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"A special phrase, meant to diffuse any potential hostilities even in the most monumental encounters that would leave the earth standing still," Brooklyn explained with an encouraging smile. Javelin's eyes were alight at the fact that such a failsafe existed. To whom it would work on, she may never know. Maybe on robots.

"And finally, the last universal greeting that I know of," the cruiser announced. "Bah weep gragnah wheep nini bong."

The young Royal destroyer nearly burst out a snicker. "What even was that?"

"A simple greeting phrase, meant to convey peaceful and friendly intentions regardless of language barrier," disclosed the diplomat. "While the exact meaning may be up to varying interpretations, it should be suitable enough to inform many extraterrestrial species that you come in peace, whether they be beings like us or even if they're sentient robots made out of junkyard scraps."

"That's golly unbelievable!" Javelin exclaimed wildly. "I can't believe Eagle Union had already thought all of them up!"

Brooklyn tried to downplay the claim with a wave of her hand and a nervous smirk on her face. "W-well, it's a complicated science. Mostly hypothesized, but not proven-"

But it was too late to stop the energetic young girl as she began to sprint off. "I'm gonna tell everyone all about this! I wonder if Enterprise knows about this too! Can't wait to hear what they have to say…!"

"Um, Javelin, wait!" But right as Brooklyn said it, Javelin was already long gone. Her own excitement had given her feet wings and there was nothing she could do to bring her back down to earth. A bead of sweat trickled down her brow.

Left behind with Brooklyn, Cormorant gaped with her own surprised expression. She stood with undecided silence, sensing the light cruiser's unease. "Oh dear…" Brooklyn murmured.

"Um, Brooklyn?"

"Yes?"

"Everything you just said…" Cormorant fidgeted as she inched close to the diplomat. Her voice fell to a secretive tone. "... Eagle Union really doesn't have universal greetings for extraterrestrials, does it?"

Brooklyn shifted her gaze. "W-why do you ask?"

Cormorant's gaze too shifted aside, landing upon the television that she had watched prior. Unbeknownst to everyone caught up in the moment, the display continued to flash bright with ongoing programs, now transitioning to the next broadcast of shows and films promised for the airwaves, tonight's entertainment advertised for the science-fiction genre.

"... Just a hunch," she replied.

"Matter of Taste"

Location: Verusan Entente naval base Murska

The air hung with the uncertainties of war. But even on the most dreary and monotonous of days, a certain moment remained anchored in calm, a small but valued refuge where all could find respite no matter what.

That sanctuary was the routine meal time that brought all together in natural congress. At Murska, the harbor facilities meant for war was now a gala of pleasant spirits as the scent of food trickled into the air.

Zuikaku could smell it even as she strode across the grounds outside the Murska living quarters. In a time like this, that scent practically radiated from the dormitory canteen, spread by those who wished to dine in the scenic outdoors should the mess hall be unsatisfactory. And it just so happened that today, Zuikaku helped bring that smell of food with her.

As she crossed the open cobblestone that fed the base's personnel directly to the mouth of the harbor, Zuikaku had her eyes peeled. She searched as she walked, and when she found it her visage lightened. But it was not her sister that she was hunting for.

"Konnichiwa, Upor!"

She called her greeting to the ship she sought, her armored silhouette and flowing purple hair unmistakable. Despite sporadic sightings of the Verusan battleship, Zuikaku had already learned to recognize this kansen's presence, her signature mighty gun more recognizable than its wiedler. Rarely were the two ever separated, Upor's oversized gun always in her hands being meticulously cleaned and oiled.

Apparently even during meal time as Zuikaku could see to her amusement.

Upor slowly turned, finding her solitude interrupted by the Sakura carrier. Her sharp gaze and silent frown was instead met by Zuikaku's friendly smirk. "That means 'hello'. So hello, Upor."

"... Hi," came the terse reply before Upor turned away.

Zuikaku cleared her throat, regaining the battleship's attention to the meal tray held in her hands. "Here, have this."

"...?"

"You haven't eaten yet, have you? I've heard you're so focused on your duties that you forget." Zuikaku smiled sheepishly. "So I thought I'd have the chance to give you something. Can't fight on an empty stomach you know."

She approached but found her ideal seat occupied by the gargantuan weapon as Upor continued with her frequent maintenance. "Um, mind if I have a place to put this down?"

A grunt was her only answer, but the battleship tugging her weapon aside to make room proved to be an affirmative to the carrier. She set the platter down, the portions Zuikaku assumed were the usual base rations: a hodgepodge of meats, grain, and produce that, while indicative of Verusan Entente culture, reminded the Sakura ship more of something one would expect from the Northern Parliament (minus the copious amount of alcohol).

Although she had sought the battleship on behalf of her comrades, Zuikaku took the opportunity to examine this seldom-seen Entente warrior. She watched Upor tend to her weapon with diligence and almost with reverence, inspecting each piece, part, bolt, and screw for the slightest fault. The maintenance seemed almost ritualistic - obsessive even. As if this devout girl was in a constant need for readiness, a ceaseless drive for improvement, to perfection.

The Sakura carrier chuckled lightly. "You know, the more you look for imperfections the more you start imagining them."

Upor cocked her head. "Hm?"

"It's good that you're committed to honing your skills and tending to your weapon. What a kansen wields is their life, their very soul into battle. But honing an already-sharp blade does nothing."

With a smile, Zuikaku took a seat. "Why don't you take a quick break and relax? The others were worried about you - that's why I brought you goodies."

Upor said nothing as she glanced at the given food before she relented. Gently swinging her gun down by her side, she lifted her tray. Likewise, Zuikaku pulled out her own, a specially-made bento box. She was ready to dig in, the feeling of glee fluttering in her stomach at the meal prepared for her. "Itadakimasu!"

Upor wasn't sure of what to make of the peculiar-sounding reaction. But she felt it wasn't worth questioning so she instead turned her attention to her given meal…

And immediately found things she didn't like.

Zuikaku paused from her food to catch an interesting act from the Entente ship. Rather than relish the given food with expected gusto, she watched Upor busily sifted through her chow with a sour face. A curious action but the logic of it quickly dawned on her.

"I take it you don't like vegetables?"

"No," Upor answered bluntly.

Zuikaku hummed in amusement. "They're good for you."

"Don't care. Don't like them."

"Come on, they can't be all that bad. I bet some of them taste great."

"No." The forceful response was finalized by Upor's glare.

Zuikaku sighed. "Never thought you could be so childish… I was even looking forward to inviting you for some suikawari tomorrow."

Upor peered up. "Sui-what?"

"Watermelon splitting," the carrier explained, a fond smile on her lips. "It's a fun little game we play on special occasions. I think you would've been a perfect fit… But I'm guessing you don't eat watermelon either."

"Of course not," the battleship promptly answered.

Zuikaku turned back to her lunch bento, and upon doing so a small idea popped in her head. "Hey, want to make a small trade? I'll give you something and you can give me whatever you like. Here, try this."

Turning her head, Upor was presented with a clump of rice with a slab of salmon wrapped atop like a blanket. She peered at it with an odd look, prompting Zuikaku to explain once more. "It's a type of sushi, a staple diet we take pride in. Don't worry, there's nothing in there you won't like; what you see is what you get."

The battleship hesitated, scrutinizing the carrier's offering with skepticism. But the suspicion was short-lived as Upor received the piece with her hands before plopping it in her mouth. Zuikaku observed her reaction as she munched, pleased by the absence of disdain from her face. "Not bad, huh?"

"... Maybe," Upor quietly muttered. Disappointed, Zuikaku glanced away with a huff until a voice reached out to her. "Here."

Looking to her side, Zuikaku was surprised to see the battleship offer her something in return. Plucking it with her chopsticks, she looked over her gift to see it was meat, sliced thin and slathered lightly in some kind of sauce.

Zuikaku snickered, but kept her smirk in appreciation. "Why thank you. Is this a piece of Verusan cuisine?" she asked before she popped it into her mouth. Instantly the sensations and taste graced her senses, allowing her to feel the smooth and sweet flavor of the sauce that dominated the food's character.

"Mmm. What is this?"

"Typical fare. Not much to it," replied Upor, her attention more devoted to her own food. "Just turkey in special commune dressing."

"Hrk-!" Upor whipped her head up to see Zuikaku gagging. Her eyes glazed in fluster, her cheeks flushed but it was too late - she had already swallowed.

"Augh!" Zuikaku cringed with distaste. "Argh! Of all the-! Ugh!"

Upor looked confused. "Didn't like the sauce?"

"No not that!" exclaimed the carrier as she shot to her feet, sputtering in vain to rid her mouth of the aftertaste. "Freaking turkey! I hate turkey! Who ever wants to eat that disgusting bird?! Ugh!"

As Zuikaku stomped out, her appetite and mood ruined, Upor could only quietly snort at her departure. "Guess I'm not the only one with childish tastes…"

"Ridge Racer"

A stadium of open air, a ceiling of bright blue. Choir of cheers, their loud calls carried in the winds as did the confetti. The stage, grander than any concert, wrested the spotlight from the contestants with its magnificence, the main attraction averted from them. But even in this performance, certain stars of this show proved to be alluring players.

The realization surrounded Enterprise as she stood in sleek revealing garb, just as much as the chill breeze did. She postured with her umbrella but it was no adequate shelter as she felt entirely exposed, every eye upon her.

She fidgeted. As much as she tried to put on a smile, Enterprise couldn't help but feel a bit out of her element.

She glanced down, reminding herself of the attire selected for her in this occasion: a dark dress sleek and slim like the race cars she promoted, the material shining and bold like their pristine paint. But so streamlined her outfit was that it itself was scant. And although the dress carried the theme of being free and fast like the wind, Enterprise couldn't help but feel its tautness constrict her. 'Talk about mixed messages…'

A breeze, a cold gale this time. She shivered, feeling her concerns validated. She was the Wind Catcher yet she felt today was not the day to be feeling the chilly wind.

'At least the sun is out in full force.' Pushing her worries aside, Enterprise continued to find the setting to be a never-ending wonder. A grand ovaloid arena, auditoriums rising taller than any barrier. Banners lined the circumference, names and logos of sponsors branded in bright moving colors. Even on a bright noon, the spotlights glimmered like constellations of a night sky. Grand displays lined the rim of the colosseum as did floating rings of screens that loitered overhead like drifting clouds. Even the race track, the most primitive yet essential as the main attraction, enjoyed the addition of tracing lights, gleaming roads that shone like marble, and from what she had been informed when she arrived, "reactive environment" which Enterprise took to mean the barriers details that shifted and adapted in brief glimpses.

It was true: the Strangereal did not skimp on their racing events.

She peeked to the side. Joining her to accompany the host of sleek, aerodynamic cars was Kestrel as her own race queen. Consisting of a black open jacket, seductive black gloves, silver-buckled short-shorts, and tall slender boots - all in shiny leather - Kestrel too posed for the impossibly-many eyes that were around them. If not the crowds that were fortunate in their seating to catch them in person, then it was the subtle drones that buzzed noiselessly over and around their heads, mechanical eyes locked on to them to feed many more that were hungry.

"Hungry"... Enterprise privately snorted at the choice of the word. But she had an obligation to fulfill and she would see to it to the end.

So until that happens, she was to stand, pose, and smile for the cameras.

"Is something the matter?"

Enterprise blinked awake at Kestrel's inquiry. "Nothing I can't handle. I've been on ops like this before."

The Federation carrier tilted her head. "Really? You seem so serious."

"Am I? I… it's just my particular style. I know others can pull it off but I'm not, er… what they'd call acting 'sexy'..." Enterprise confessed, feeling the heat on her face for explaining it so bluntly and clumsily.

Kestrel giggled. "You look beautiful the way you are, Enterprise."

"I… thanks."

Kestrel couldn't help but smile in good humor at seeing the Eagle veteran's quiet shyness even as she looked away. She lightly twirled the flag pole in her hands and as she did, a voice called out behind her.

"My, if it isn't a familiar face. Two in fact."

Turning, Kestrel was greeted by the arrival of another participant, her attire equally bold and provocative as her's and Enterprise's. But as enticing and impressionable the outfit was, Kestrel gasped upon seeing who it was.

If there was one correction to this person's statement, it was that there were now three familiar faces.

"... Long time no see, mein kleiner singvogel," Prinz Eugen greeted with a smirk.

"Prinz Eugen," Kestrel replied. Despite memories of her old foe from the past, her tone was devoid of hostility. But she could not contain her surprise from seeing one return so unexpectedly. "This is a surprise."

"The pleasure is all mine," the Ironblood cruiser purred. Her amber eyes peered past the Silver Star Idol. "I could say the same for your friend."

"Don't bet on it," Enterprise dismissed, maintaining a cooler reception for the heavy cruiser. "What are you doing here? This is a Federation-held rally."

"My, how discourteous," the Ironblood ship tutted. "Are you worried that we'd give die masse a better showing than you?" Eugen pirouetted to show off her race queen outfit, all with a coy smile on her face.

Enterprise narrowed her eyes in disapproval but stopped herself. "Hang on… 'we'?"

"There you are!" As Enterprise and Kestrel glanced behind Prinz Eugen, they beheld a pair of figures both clad in single black-clothed dresses that, with their exaggerated cutouts, pushed the boundaries of skimpiness. Where they were subdued in color variety, their similar attires were nonetheless daring and striking.

One stopped, her eyes already locked onto Enterprise as she brandished a competitive look on her face. "We meet again, Gray Ghost!"

"Zuikaku," Enterprise acknowledged respectfully. "And your sister Shoukaku too. I see how this is…"

Zuikaku smirked as if proud of her rival's intuition. "Figure it all out already, didja? We got invited by Eugen and I figured you would be here. Wouldn't want to miss a chance to clash with you again!"

Quietly, Shoukaku sighed. "There you go again…"

Prinz Eugen hummed playfully as she slouched atop the hood of a pristine racing car, basking in the open air and spectacle. "Let your little schwester enjoy the occasion, Shoukaku. No doubt she will give her all to take gold against the Gray Ghost. The audience will certainly relish the entertainment…"

Hearing this, Zuikaku grinned from ear to ear. "I'll steal the show like you've never seen before, Enterprise. Prepare yourself!"

"Always," declared the Eagle carrier as she turned full front toward her counterpart, her umbrella gripped like a weapon for her upcoming duel.

Their competitive auras intersected, an invisible clash that incited sparks. Sensing the heat, Shoukaku withdrew into the background. Turning, she was surprised to find herself joined by Kestrel who looked upon the fiery rivalry with concern.

"I hope they don't get too carried away…"

"She'd be foolish to try," Shoukaku quietly muttered.

But as much as the new additions complicated matters - three new contenders vying for the throne of attention - there was no denying they had a strong influence on the atmosphere of the stadium. Already the howls of cheers grew, carrying with them the uplifting sensation. Like growing electricity, they could feel it in the air, on their skin. A rising tide of spirit and gaiety that buoyed all to new heights.

The cheers only then intensified once the twinkling lights came to life as wild kaleidoscopes, loudspeakers blaring an announcement that told what all knew as the bombastic signal: the commencement of the event.

Eugen paid the dazzling displays and the ensuing cacophonous little mind. "Looks like the show's on, damen. Viel glück… and remember to show some skin~."

Shortly after, a manjuu sporting aviators and a dashing combed hairdo waddled towards them. The five race queens turned towards him in acknowledgement of the race event's PR manager. The yellow bird arrived and with him came an entourage of cameramen (more accurately camerabirds as they too were all manjuus).

The five tacitly took their places by the row of cars. With only so much to go around, some compromises were made as Prinz Eugen remained close to her Sakura counterparts, Zuikaku staying by Shoukaku's side but making sure to be within range of Enterprise as she took her place near Kestrel.

Immediately the cameras went to work, clicking, whirring, and flashing in rapid unison all around them, determined to catch the idols from every angle. The ships obliged to the cameras' demands as they postured in open view, some of their poses made at the behest of the photographers. Although the intent was for the advertisement of the luxurious automobiles, they played second fiddle to the luscious ladies around them.

As she posed with her sister, Shokaku let her eyes wander for a bit. "Seems we're getting a fair amount of attention."

"Of course we are," Zuikaku whispered back, barely hiding her cockiness as she imagined the reception her rival was earning. "No way we wouldn't."

Shokaku snuck a fleeting glance towards Prinz Eugen as she prostrated atop a car to the flurry and excitement of the cameras, lazing like an indulgent queen adoring the sensation of attention.

A thought occurred to her as she watched. "Or they've simply never seen us before, hence the special treatment."

Zuikaku shot a furtive peek at Enterprise, smiling as she saw the Gray Ghost's more conservative poses, posturing with the umbrella in her hand. But her confidence faltered when she saw that she attracted a sizable gathering regardless.

'Tch. Damn the Gray Ghost and her innate charm!' Incensed, Zuikaku confided with her sister. "C'mon. Let's step things up!"

With Zuikaku taking the helm, the two sisters redoubled their efforts. The effect was immediate: cameras caught their intent, flashing away with escalating excitement as the Sakura ships' poses became more bold, more daring, more risque. In the ever-increasingly shameless displays, Shoukaku squirmed and even Zuikaku couldn't help but fluster in spite of her diligence. A rewarding endeavor, but with great risks that the two found themselves enduring.

Even the other contestants found themselves eyeing the pair with worry. Catching Enterprises's stare elicited an encouraging smirk from Zuikaku who pressed on the metaphorical attack. Shoukaku was in doubt, however.

"Um, Zuikaku…"

"Hang in there… we got this!"

"Z-Zuikaku, wait… I… My-!"

So caught up in her bid to outdo her peers that Zuikaku, in her haste to create another intriguing shot for the audience, made a hasty step and slipped over her sister's foot. She tripped and with the two holding each other, the duo were brought down like dominoes by the misstep. They fell into a heap, their cries and collective gasps drawing all eyes upon them.

The two Sakura carriers groaned and winced. Grimacing at her mishap, Zuikaku raised her and shook it clear. But as she cracked her eye open, her bitter expression swiftly turned to mortification.

She instantly covered herself and her sister up before the cameras' intense eyes. The two race queens' enticing charm had been achieved by their paltry outfits, held and restrained by mere strings that tempted the imaginations of those who laid eyes on them.

Now, they got more than what they had bargained for.

"Eeeep!" Zuikaku squealed hysterically. "W-w-wait! S-stop! Look away~~!"

"Noo, don't look!" Shoukaku whined. "N-not yet at least! My body's for Shikikan-sama~~!"

But the cameras persisted. Like honey to bees, they buzzed furiously over the two carriers, and they discovered the sweetest honey anyone could find.

Under cover of the incident, Prinz Eugen quietly snickered at their predicament. "Maybe I should have specified how much skin to show off…"

As Zuikaku and Shoukaku cried, a pair of shadows quickly fell over them. Enterprise and Kestrel wasted no time lending them their umbrella and leather jacket, offering their peers protection from prying eyes. Shoukaku took the offerings with a teary look of relief.

"Will you be okay?" Kestrel asked.

Shoukaku sniffed, happy to find the Federation idol's jacket over her shoulders. "I-I will. Arigato~!"

Moved by the compassionate display, the cameras now fixed their attention on the Federation and Eagle Union idols. In a moment's notice, it was as if everything seconds ago had not transpired as Enterprise and Kestrel now became the center of attention.

Where her sister was more than happy to inherit their aid, Zuikaku found herself even more embarrassing. Although she accepted the wide-brimmed parasol without objection, she found it vexing to find herself helped - and even pitied upon - by the Gray Ghost. She was thankful to have a shield, but it mocked her to know it was not hers.

"D-damn you, Gray Ghost! You win this time!" But as much bite she could inject into her voice, Zuikaku did her declaration no favors with tears in her eyes.

Hearing this, Enterprise could only sigh in exasperation. "Just… please put your clothes back on."

"Ridge Racer: Guundergram Follow-Up"

RidgeRacerOfficial: Yesterday's big event was a day to remember! Huge thanks for our sponsors at GenRes, Kawasikorsky, and GründerTelecom! And big round of applause and thanks for all those who lended their help in making this year's Ridge Racer tournament a stunning, unforgettable success!
#GenRes #Kawasikorsky #GründerTelecom #NovemberCity

Enterprise: All in a day's work.
Belfast_inService: No need to be so modest, Miss Enterprise. You always give it your all.
Zuikaku: Hey! What about me?!
Enterprise: That goes without saying, Zuikaku.
KADEKURU: Just like how much she's obsessed with you lol
Zuikaku: Shut up.
FBC_Reporter: Oh man, really wish I was invited for the photo shoots.
K_Star: I'm sorry to hear that you missed out. I know you would have enjoyed it.
FBC_Reporter: Oh absolutely! My contacts and friends source me all the photos taken and seeing them makes me a little envious.
P. Eugen: Don't be. They put in the effort to ensure everyone gets the delight in seeing us~.
Zuikaku: Don't get any funny ideas with that camera of yours…
FBC_Reporter: W-wha…? No, wouldn't dare dream of it! Any and all illicit material would be purely accidental, you have my word for it!
KADEKURU: ohhh don't remind me…
Zuikaku: Chin up, Shoukaku! Those outfits were specifically selected for us! We won't dishonor their decision by losing heart so easily!
FBC_Reporter: Um, did something happen?
Enterprise: Nothing.
Zuikaku: Nothing!
K_Star: Er, nothing.
KADEKURU: Will you three just shut up saying "nothing" like that only makes it more suspicious
P. Eugen: The little one will be in for quite the surprise.
FBC_Reporter: …Ohhh I see what happened.
KADEKURU: Oh god don't say anything
FBC_Reporter: Wow those outfits don't really cover up anything do they?
Zuikaku: …
P. Eugen: Better to conceal than to reveal~
Enterprise: Look, let's just put this behind us. We had fun, didn't we?

Buzzard: K_Star, Enterprise, good to hear that the event was a rousing success.

K_Star: Thank you. Everyone involved did their best.
Enterprise: Seconded. I'm glad to see that we did the event staff proud with our efforts.
VLTR: Man I wished I was there. Bet they could've score some good pics with me.
Buzzard: You? Please I can't even imagine you being there.
VLTR: What can I say? Tomboys can be sexy.
Buzzard: Please do not say that so casually.
Enterprise: Well, she's not wrong. I do know someone like that.
K_Star: Hm, it's not unlikely. If there is ever an ideal outfit for Vulture it can work.
VLTR: Right on!
VLTR: But I at least want something like pants. Don't care if it's got to be underwear.
VLTR: Cuz you've seen Enty's dress? Yowzers I can't stop seeing her bare ass just poking out from under there.
Enterprise: …
K_Star: Well… there should be something that can work.
VLTR: Sure sis. Hey next time this happens, invite me okay?
Buzzard: What, you actually want to pitch in?
VLTR: Hey, looks fun.
VLTR: And it's racing! Bet I could do that well.
Enterprise: Um…
K_Star: Maybe it's better if Vulture sticks with being a race queen. Or even a guest announcer.
Enterprise: She has the energy to be one.
VLTR: You sure? Well if you say so.
K_Star: I can ask my agents if there will be an open spot as well as an ideal dress for you.
VLTR: Sure. Just not too much makeup, aight?
Buzzard: Good call, Kestrel. We all know how our little sister drives.
VLTR: Eat my ass, Buzz.

AUTHOR'S NOTES:

HistoricHippos:

I'm trying out a new way of writing my filler chapters. I have plenty of ideas for them but I felt there wouldn't be enough time to include them all, especially if I devote each event as their own chapter that already takes time between writing and uploading. So as an experiment, this chapter will be a collection of various side stories that I would have otherwise put in separate chapters, shorter in length than the usual filler content I've had previously (with the exception of Guundergram). Full-length stories will have their own chapters but for stuff like this, putting them together like this might be more ideal. Let me know what you think.