a/n: This one was lots of fun to write! I hope you all like it. I'm trying to keep everything at a regular pace, but that's easier said than done. There's a lot transpiring at once but I like to keep each chapter coherent to a theme, or at least one situation.

I'm thrilled with the encouragement I'm getting on this fic. Thanks again, everybody...I'm doing my best on this. It's great to see other people having fun with it too.

BTW, I like how this chapter ends. Does Rick remind anybody else of Charlie Brown? Rick Hunter, you blockhead. =D

Chapter 8

A week had passed since Lisa arrived on the Ultimatum. Considering her experience at Echo, Admiral Reeve had refused to assign her a position while onboard. He told Lisa, as well as Rick and his wingmen, to consider their time as off-duty. James Hansen, the surviving bomber pilot, was sent back to Earth for medical attention. Lisa was told not to worry, and that he would be in the best of care and safety.

She was enjoying the freetime very much. Rick spent most of each day with her, and she loved every moment they could share. Granted, there was not much to do aboard a battle cruiser in orbit. But Lisa was easy company to keep. She was quite content with exploring the ship's hallways with him, or sharing a humble dinner in the mess hall.

As she sat alone, her thoughts trailed away to the evening before, when the cafeteria was shut down. A candle-lit table was set for two. A ripped tablecloth covered the steel surface as best it could.

Rick appeared from the kitchen, sharply dressed in a new officer's uniform. He proudly kicked open the swiveling doors. They swung back, and nearly knocked him off his feet, but he jumped away. He quickly straightened his step and saved face, silently mumbling some curse in the doors' direction.

Lisa giggled, and hid a smile.

Rick balanced a silver platter in one hand, which he nearly dropped a few times. He finally got to the table and Lisa offered up a proper applause.

"Voila!" He lifted the platter, and presented a gourmet pasta dishr. "My dear, dinner is served!"

Lisa was taken aback. "Rick!" she gasped in surprise. "It's beautiful!"

"And you thought I couldn't cook," he boasted with a smile.

"I can't believe you! And you made this all yourself?"

Rick opened his mouth, but the kitchen doors kicked open again. The Ultimatum's head cook appeared. "Yes he did! I just told him the recipe, handed him the ingredients, and had lots of patience!"

"Thank you very much, Rocky!" Rick blushed, and waved. "I see you've decided to go back on our deal, then!"

"Back door was locked," shrugged the cook. "G'night, kids!"

Lisa brushed away tears of laughter, and thanked the man as well. Rick waited until the doors were shut, and stared at them for a few more seconds, just to be sure.

"I really did make it!" he said proudly. "I swear! It's probably terrible, but it's all my doing!"

Lisa laughed, and dried her tears again. She smiled at him earnestly. "Rick...thank you."

He joined her at the table. "I just... wish I could do more..."

The vision faded, as she felt a careful tap on her shoulder.

"Excuse me, Commander."

She blinked her eyes, and found herself in the exercise room. Rubber mats were stretched across the floor in the center, surrounded by fixed-weight machines of varying impact. Mirrors hung on each wall, and a radio in the corner played some uninteresting dance music.

Michael Joons stood properly beside her. "Are you finished with the machine, ma'am?"

"Hmm? Oh, yes! Of course."

Lisa picked herself up from the exercise machine. "Thanks," said Joons. "I can't stand these archaic battle cruisers, you know? It's like you just waste away up here."

"Yeah, that's true," she said, inwardly cross for the ruin of her daydream. She stepped into the center of the room for some stretching.

Joons kept trying at some conversation. "I get nervous every time I stay on one of these things," he said pleasantly. "I've gotta work out like mad to keep in shape. I think I've actually toned up a little more, though."

Lisa chuckled. "There isn't much else to do up here, that's for sure."

The pilot finished a set on his machine, and took a moment to rest. "Miss Hayes, do you mind if I ask you a question?"

Her attention piqued. "Well... no, of course not!" she said.

"What was it like, living on the SDF-1?"

She thought for a moment. "Hmm... I guess that's a hard question to answer, really."

Joons wiped his face with a towel. "I hope you don't take offense. Just curious, that's all."

"No, of course not!" Lisa stretched out on the mat. "Umm...you know how some people can go back to a pivotal point in their lives? Something that changed them... changed the way they look at things."

"Yes ma'am," Joons listened, but continued to exercise.

"The SDF-1...that was it for me. In just a few days, we found ourselves in the far reaches of space, with no way home..." she stood up and leaned against a mirror. "Aboard an alien spacecraft, and being hunted down by Zentraedi."

"That's unbelievable," said Joons. "I've thought about it a million times. I can't imagine how I'd react to something like that."

Lisa laughed. "And I can't believe I acted as I did! We all... well, we just didn't think about it. We did what we had to, just to keep going." Her eyes trailed away. "And I guess...you start to see things differently... and you view people in a different light. You realize...that you need them more than you imagined...and you find yourself hoping...that they need you..."

She gasped lightly and snapped awake. A frightened blush crossed her face. Quit daydreaming, Lisa! You're embarrassing yourself!

But Joons had his back turned. It seemed he didn't notice. "Mm-hmm," he nodded. "Guess you do what you've gotta do."

She felt relieved, but still flustered. "So..." she continued quickly, "you weren't with us in space, then?"

"No ma'am," he shook his head. "I didn't enlist until much later."

"Really!" said Lisa. "And you're already a VF-1 lieutenant! You must be something of a prodigy."

He grinned proudly. "Thank you, ma'am. So I'm told. I guess there's not many eighteen-year-olds in Veritechs these days."

Lisa was stunned. She nearly slipped off the mirror. "You're...eighteen? My gosh, that's phenomenal!"

"You're too kind!" Joons smiled politely. "If you'll excuse me, I'll head outside and deflate my ego."

She laughed, but was still dumbfounded. "Yes, well, goodbye then."

"Nice talking to you!" he waved. "See you later."

Lisa's head rested on the mirror. Unbelievable...an eighteen-year-old in a Veritech. He's...he's just a boy! How could they allow such a thing?

She recalled the memory of young Rick Hunter, fumbling through Macross City in a Veritech during the first Zentraedi attack. I guess fate doesn't play favorites, she sighed.

Next to her mirror, a window gave view to the next room. Lisa decided to have a look. It was a large training room that extended to a floor below her. A rubber mat was spread from wall to wall, and punching bags hung from the corners. The room was empty, except for two soldiers engaged in sparring practice.

It was Rick Hunter, and Lieutenant Dan Martinez. They circled each other and threw quick jabs, looking for open spots to attack.

Lisa's eyes remained on Rick. He wore a pair of blue sweatpants, and his hands and feet were taped for sparring. He was shirtless; Lisa traced over his form, and his determined face. She slowly moved her eyes to follow his movements. He skipped across the floor; her eyes went with him.

She stared, and smiled weakly.

Rick shouted at his opponent. She could not hear him through the glass, but she imagined the pointed authority of his voice. Rick crouched down as his foe charged at him. He quickly rolled aside, swept out the attacker's legs, and bent back his arm. He quickly released it and hopped to his feet. He began to circle and he shouted again, before his opponnent could even stand.

Lisa's knees began to weaken. She leaned against the windowsill with her elbows, red-faced and smiling in a dreamy trance.

"You're not paying attention!" Rick shouted. "Get up and try again."

Dan Martinez growled, and rubbed his arm. "Man!" he said, "watch the arm!"

He stumbled up, and wiped his face. Rick was dancing circles around him, jabbing at his face. Martinez raised his hands to block, took a deep breath, and got back in stance.

"Keep moving," said Rick. "And listen this time. You're fighting Zentraedi, so think like one. Fight like one!"

Martinez threw a punch. "I fight my way, sir. I could take a Zentraedi just fine."

"Remember Breetai?" Rick shouted with steely eyes. He kicked through Martinez' block, knocking him on his back. "A Zentraedi is a killing machine. It's a living weapon. Learn how it works! Find out how to break it!"

"I'll shoot it in the face," said Martinez, leaping to his feet.

"Ehhh...alright, fine." Rick walked to the corner of the room, and picked up an unloaded handgun. "Here," he said, tossing the weapon to Martinez. "Shoot me in the face."

Rick charged, and ducked as Martinez caught the gun. He rolled around to the pilot's back. Martinez pulled back on the slide, but Rick paid no attention to the gun. He jumped up, grabbed Martinez by the neck and skull, and stood still.

"Stop!" he shouted.

Martinez had the gun halfway up. "What?" he sneered, annoyed.

Rick applied a tiny bit of pressure, and Martinez screamed and fell. Rick backed away and stopped circling.

"I just broke your neck, that's what!" he said. "Or I would have, if I was a Zentraedi."

Martinez rubbed his neck and stood silently.

"I don't care how good you think you are," said Rick. "They're better. I've seen a single Zentraedi bring down a crowd of men. If you want to survive a ditch from your Veritech, you've got to adapt! Study their technique! Think on your feet! Use surprise! Anything to stay alive."

Martinez nodded his head, and wiped off his face as he sat down on the mat. He looked up to the wall behind Rick. "Hey!" he said. "We've got a spectator!"

Rick rolled his eyes and spun about to see who it was. He was shocked to see Lisa watching from the high window. She wore a black leotard that wrapped against her figure, but concealed it under a loose towel. Blushing and smiling, she leaned in the window and looked down at Rick. But when he met her gaze, she quickly stumbled back.

Rick nearly tripped over himself. He waved happily in her direction, as she reappeared in the window, hiding her red face and trying to straighten her towel. He sighed inwardly as she looked down and meekly waved back.

Martinez cracked his skull with a roundhouse kick. Rick slid against the mat, crumpled under the ferocious blow. He slowly gathered himself up, to see the lieutenant standing at attention.

"Element of surprise, sir!" he reported, with a worried look on his face. "I'm sorry, sir!"

Rick glanced up at Lisa; she was banging on the soundproof glass and shouting madly. He rubbed his head, and looked Martinez in the eye.

"Not bad," he shrugged.

Lisa sat beside Rick on the sofa in his quarters. She carefully held an icepack to his temple. "Oh, Rick, I can't believe he did that!" she sulked. "I think the swelling's going down..."

The ice slipped down and pressed a little too hard. Rick bit his lip. "Yup, feels great."

"Do you think he did it on purpose?" she asked.

"Nah, I doubt it," said Rick, shaking his head. The icepack slipped across the bump on his head. He winced. "Egh...ahem. Uh, no, I think he's just a little headstrong. He's got a lot to learn, but he'll be all right."

"I'm more worried about you!" Lisa pouted sweetly.

She hugged his waist with her free hand. The ice slipped once more. "Ehm..." Rick coughed. "Hey...Lisa? Do you think that's enough ice for now? It's, uh, getting a little too chilly."

"Hmm...? Oh! Gosh, I'm sorry!"

She set the icepack on the floor, and dabbed at his wound with a cloth. "Thank you," sighed Rick.

Lisa held the cloth gently in Rick's hair, and traced her fingers across his chin. "Looks like he got you right here, too..." she said quietly. "I felt so bad when I saw that..."

"Thanks," he smiled. "But...yeah, like I said, he didn't mean any harm. Just a cocky kid trying to show off...that's kind of how it goes with rookies..."

His eyes watched her fingers, as they gingerly caressed his chin. "And...you know...I guess it's just..." He blinked his eyes. "What was I saying, again?"

Lisa smiled bashfully, and they drew close for a kiss. But Lisa placed her hand on the icepack behind her. She gasped and twitched forward, knocking heads with Rick.

"Augh!" Rick pulled his hands to his face, but he quickly stopped himself. "Ooh...okay, that's a tender spot."

"Oh...oh my gosh...I didn't...I'm so sorry!" Lisa stuttered.

"No! No, that's all right," Rick gritted his teeth a little. "That one was my fault."

"Wha...what? No, I just bumped you on the head!"

"Oh, well...uh...you did? I mean, yeah...well, it's fine, really."

They both exhaled deeply. Lisa rubbed her face and shook with frustration and embarrassment. But Rick wrapped his arms around her, and smiled. She curled up gently against his chest. After a moment, she was relaxed, and the throbbing in Rick's head was gone.

"We'll make it," said Rick.

Lisa sighed. "If we don't finish each other off first..."

They laughed together, and held each other warmly. But Rick cast an ominous stare at the icepack.