The wind coming off of the sea drove the waves against the partially-submerged Queadol-Magdomilla Zentraedi battleship. Moored against the wharf just on the edges of the new Zentraedi starport, the huge battleship sits peacefully while workers toil to set up a stage on the top of its hull. A couple of Zentraedi solders guide several Queadluun and Nousjadeul power armor suits into position behind the stage area. Nearby, the concert planning committee supervises the construction of the set, in preparation for the concert this evening.
Nanase stands outside of a dressing room, next to a couple of racks of costumes on hangers. No doubt, Ranka is trying out some new costumes for her concert. After a couple of minutes, she emerges from the dressing room, unsatisfied with her costume. Nanase had thrown together a costume that was supposed to emulate a Zentraedi uniform, and it didn't seem to do much for Ranka's tastes. "No... just no."
Nanase began to look Ranka over and tugged at several points on the costume to see if there was anything she could do for it. "I think I have an idea... stay here." She ran over to grab some books nearby, one of which was a history book. Flipping through some pages, she finds what she was looking for. "How about we try this?" Nanase says, as she turns the book to show Ranka. The picture was of a Meltran commander from the Space War some 50 years ago. The costume boasted the standard Meltran uniform, but also had a concealing cloak that wrapped around the body.
Immediately, Ranka took a liking to the slight difference in uniforms. "Those Meltrans sure knew how to look good while kicking serious butt back then." "Some things never change, you know. I know Klan will keep our Alto and Luca safe while they're out there," Nanase added. Ranka laughed in response.
Cal could have sworn he just heard a sneeze from Klan over the comm lines. "Someone's talking about you, Commander." "Keep the lines clear, Wagner. We're about to enter the asteroid belt and I need radio silence," Klan ordered. Cal acknowledged and returned his attention to his radar readouts.
A complement of fighters entered the asteroid belt a few kilometers ahead of the rest of the fleet to secure the area. Luca's RVF was one of the first to enter the zone. "Looks clear so far, Commander." Ozma visually scanned the asteroid field to see if his sharp pilot's eyes could see any threats coming in. Satisfied with what he saw, he ordered the squadrons to spread out and finish securing the established operations radius.
Team Pixie moved into their positions to scan the area for any threats. "Split up into two groups of two each," Klan ordered, "Wagner, you're with me." The two teams of fighters searched the larger asteroids for any signs of Vajra nests while Cal paid close attention to his radar console for any anomalies. Sure enough, as they spread out through the asteroids, Cal picked up some blips. Apparently, they've entered into the territory of a nearby hive and the drones are out to defend it with their lives.
"Commander, I've got a handful of drones coming in at 3 o'clock," Cal reported. Klan reported back to Ozma on the incoming bugs and then opened a channel to her team. "Okay, it's showtime. Let's keep it conservative, guys. I don't feel like writing to someone's family how their loved one got killed cuz they did something stupid." Cal moved in behind Klan as she made a straight beeline to the incoming Vajra. "We'll be right there shortly," Nene said, with Will in formation behind her.
"Any bets on who gets the most kills, Commander?" Cal asked. "Hopefully, you won't have to deal with too much. You just cover me so you don't get yourself in over your head. We can't afford to let you get shot down so early in the operation." "There you go again, Commander. I'm beginning to think you don't hate me so much anymore!" Cal jokingly said. Klan scoffed at Cal's meaningless statements and engaged her first target.
"Okay, we have 6 of em to deal with, I'm right behind you, Commander," Cal said as he switched to GERWALK and unloaded a small salvo of missiles. Several missiles missed their targets, but one hit and sent a Vajra fighter-drone spinning off into an asteroid, exploding on impact. "Hey! One down already... Just let me know if you need any help," Cal chattered. Klan had already taken care of a couple of Vajra, but before they could finish cleaning up the other three, Cal picked up another small group of incoming drones.
"Got more of them coming, Commander. It looks like five more. There may be a small hive hiding out somewhere around here," Cal reported. "Trace their routes and see if you can give us an idea as to where it might be," Klan ordered, "Nene, can you and Garrett take those 5 that are coming in?" "We're on it!" Nene said.
Two of the incoming Vajra broke off and headed towards Cal's position as he stayed back from Klan somewhat to give her room to work. "Alright! It looks like I get to see how well these 25s work in actual combat!" Cal was glad that he was going to get some action and switched to fighter mode to intercept the two bugs.
Before Cal could open fire, Klan used the beam cannon on her back to pick off the lead Vajra that was headed towards him. "You take one of my kills, I'll take one of yours!" Klan taunted over the radio. Cal clicked his tongue and decided to test out the melee capabilities of the 25. Dodging the incoming fire in battroid mode, Cal was easily able to close into melee range without taking a shot and placed his knife into the flesh of the fighter-drone, cutting it open longways. The drone wriggled in agony, shortly before it exploded. "There's something about melee that gives you that personal feedback," Cal chattered. "Don't get cocky, Lieutenant. I told you to avoid combat as much as possible." Klan crackled over the radio.
Team Pixie easily dispatched the rest of the Vajra in the area and gathered up into formation to explore the source of the incoming Vajra. Cal had calculated the direction of the source using the incoming trajectory information from the second set of bugs that had joined the fight. Shortly after beginning their search, a larger planetoid appeared to be hollowed out, with several Vajra swarming around its entrance.
"There it is, team. Let's exterminate that nest so we can finally secure the area. Wagner, we'll clear it out and I want you to nape the nest with those incendiary bombs we loaded out on your RVF," Klan ordered. "Why not just use an MDE bomb on them?" Will asked. "Because we don't want to destroy the asteroid belt at the same time and lose the resources contained in these rocks," Cal responded.
The four fighters moved into attack posture to clear out the entrance to the nest, with Cal in the rearward position. The initial salvo of firepower from the group knocked a few of the Vajra down, but enraged the rest of the nest, spawning several more targets from the inside. Klan, Nene, and Will drew their fire and lured them away from the nest to allow Cal a clear shot inside of the asteroid.
The two incendiary bombs detached themselves from the hardpoints under Cal's wings and quickly sped towards their target. "Bombs awayyyy..." Cal jokingly announced. He pulled into a vertical climb to get distance from the asteroid, but drew the attention of two drones who still had not yet left the nest. The incendiary bombs entered the nest and detonated, filling the asteroid with hundreds of pyrotechnic bomblets. Fire roared out of the asteroid's opening, indicating a complete saturation of the cavern.
"Two points!" Cal announced, as he looked back to admire his work. His rearward point of view also allowed him to see the two pursuing Vajra drones. "Oh shit. I've got two of them on me. Time for some more wetwork!" "Wagner, don't get too far away," Klan said. "Don't worry about me, Commander. I can take care of myself."
Cal opened his throttle to full power and boosted away, weaving around several asteroids in an attempt to lose his pursuers. Despite the increase in speed, the drones were able to match his speed and maneuvers. Several Vajra missiles were detected from behind by Cal's radar. "Damn, these guys don't give up easily. Let's see how effective they are when they can't see." The dispensers on the fuselage opened up to release a salvo of the new fold-magnetic chaff Cal was supposed to be testing.
The chaff dispersed in a cloud of metal fragments behind Cal's RVF as it sped away, luring the missiles into impacting on the chaff. The Vajra were noticeably distracted by it, as it seemed to affect their senses considerably. Cal used this opportunity to pull a hook around one of the asteroids and opened fire on the confused Vajra. Both targets were summarily destroyed after each one took several hits from Cal's gunpod fire. "Wow, those were very effective," Cal told himself as he flew to rejoin his wingmates.
The nest within the asteroid continued to burn out as dying Vajra spit out of the cavern's entrance one at a time. Out of the corner of his eye, Cal noticed a very fast blur eject from the asteroid and speed away at an extremely high velocity. As the object reached the edges of his visual range, Cal managed to take a snapshot of the escaping vessel. "Did anyone see that?" Cal asked over the radio. "See what?" the team responded. "Nevermind."
Having dispatched all of the Vajra in the vicinity, Team Pixie monitored the Vajra nest while the burn-out subsided. Klan and Nene entered the cavern to inspect the aftermath and make sure there were no remaining Vajra drones or eggs. "Good shot with those nape bombs, Wagner. The Vajra have been effectively cleaned out of here," Klan said. Satisfied with the results, Klan ordered her team back into escort positions as the fleet began to take its positions within the asteroid belt.
"How many did you get? I got 5 of them myself," Will asked of Cal. "Not bad! I only got four... hundred." "What?! That nest doesn't count!" Will demanded. Cal laughed at Will's defensive response, but Klan wasn't about to let her team get too relaxed, "You guys can brag about your kills when you're on the Quarter. Stay frosty while you're out here, alright?" "Yes'm," the two responded.
Cal felt it necessary to at least notify his commanding officer of the unidentified blur he saw several minutes before. "Commander, I am not sure, but I saw something leaving the nest that I couldn't identify. I only got a very bad picture of its vapor trail. It was moving VERY fast and made it nearly impossible to get any kind of visual record to share with you guys." Cal sent the picture to his teammates for them to see. After a few moments of analyzation, Klan gave her opinion, "This does look very familiar, but I can't quite put my finger on it. I'm going to transmit it to the fleet so they can do something with it." Fortunately, for the vigilant defenders, the next few hours went by without any more encounters with the Vajra.
Cal sat in the galley eating his dinner with several of the new pilots of the squadron. Jen Wentz was also off duty and sat right next to Cal while the group shared stories of their recent combat with Vajra drones. She was noticeably doting on Cal as he told his story about burning out the nest of Vajra. Will was doing most of the talking, however. "Those VF-25s are incredible machines. You should have seen me out there taking on those damn bugs. They didn't have a chance!" "Let's not forget about the officers, Will," Cal interjected. "Oh yeah, they were incredible. Those two Zentrans definitely live up to the stories. We're in good hands, for sure."
On the other side of the galley, some of the veteran Skull pilots watched the fledglings interacting with each other. Ozma, Klan, Luca, and Nene ate their meals while discussing the performance of their new pilots. Ozma felt it necessary to draw some opinions from Klan. Even though she's been at the head of Pixie Team for a long time, she's never had to actually recruit new members directly from the NUNS talent pool. She, Nene, and Roramia were always Pixie Team until Roramia's death and the recent reorganization of Skull Squadron.
"How are they doing, Klan?" She looked at Ozma for a moment and gave her answer some thought before speaking again. "It's amazing, really. I feel like I'm responsible for their care until they grow their own wings and fly the coop some day. Now I really feel like I know why it's been such a customary practice to refer to them as 'chicklings'. Even though I come down on them hard, it's an act of tough love. They need to be strong in order to survive out there."
Ozma could see that Klan fully understood her new role. Perhaps the 24-hour hiatus he ordered her to take did more good than he had originally thought. She was once his chickling and he felt a sense of pride seeing that she was taking good care of her own brood now. Ozma leaned over and put his arm around Klan's shoulders in a friendly gesture. "Just remember that you do have to let them go at some point. They won't stay chicklings forever. Make sure you give them the room that they need to grow, because if you restrain them too much, their wings won't sprout."
Klan suddenly remembered that Cal had asked to speak with her when they were returning to the Quarter from their escort duty. "That's good advice, Ozma. I think I will put that into use right now," she said as she finished her meal and excused herself from the table. "Oh!" Klan said, reaching into her jacket, "That 'proof' you said you needed? Here you go." Klan dropped a picture face-down in front of Ozma. Taking a deep breath and putting on her serious side, Klan marched over to the table where Cal was sitting.
Will was the first to notice Klan coming up to their table. "Commander! Come have a seat and join in the fun!" "No, thanks. I just wanted to stop by the kiddie table real fast and make sure you guys were eating your food, instead of wearing it." The table laughed nervously at Klan's cheap shot. "Wagner, you wanted to talk to me?" Klan asked. "Yes'm" "I have some stuff to take care of in the hangar. I'll be in Commander Lee's office, so finish up your dinner and come see me when you're done." Cal nodded with a smile as she continued out of the galley.
The table fell silent as the pilots seemed to watch Klan glide out of the room. All attention was directed towards Cal, who had already started putting food back into his mouth. Noticing everyone looking at him, he looked up from his plate, with his fork still in his mouth. "What?" he muffled. "You still need to tell us the stories of the history that you two have with each other," one of the pilots said. Cal slowly chewed his food while shaking his head. After swallowing he replied, "We're just two hard-headed people, I guess. I've constantly been in hot water ever since I met her because of a streak of defiance I've been going through." "You stood up to her?" another pilot asked. "Look, I don't really want to get into it, but I'll just say that you don't want to see her when she's really pissed off and she's Zentran-ized," Cal said. Imaginations ran wild with scenarios of what that must have been like for Cal.
Feeling rather playful, Ozma decided to join his chickling pilots while they ate and socialized. "So, who wants to share how many kills they got today?" he cheerfully asked as he plopped himself down on one of the booth seats next to one of his new pilots. The demeanor of the table immediately turned amicable as the chicklings were happy to have their squadron commander sharing some time with them. Several pilots blurted out their kill count, trying to vie for Ozma's attention. "Don't make too much of a big deal out of it, guys. Remember, you can't get any more kills if you are dead, so don't get reckless," Ozma said.
The television screen on the wall had been playing Ranka's concert quietly in the background and Ozma had to brag about his little sister. "You see her? That's my very own Ranka..." "Is she your daughter?" one of the pilots asked. The table fell silent as the pilot had inadvertently made an "old man" comment towards Ozma. He was older than everyone there, but he was definitely not old enough to be her father. "She's my little sister, you fool!" Ozma said as he stretched out to his left to deliver a smack to the back of the head. The rest of the table laughed at the pilot's misfortunate statement and subsequent punishment.
The Zentraedi soldiers in the crowd had been thoroughly enjoying the concert being put on just for them. Ranka was as energetic as always, performing her most popular songs with the heart and soul she's learned to use, with coaching help from Sheryl. Backstage, Nanase and Brera commented on the success of the concert.
"She's improved so much since I first met her," Brera stated, "When she first started singing, she always struggled with showing her true heart while she was behind the microphone." Nanase nodded, "Sheryl has been spending some time with her, teaching her how to let loose her inhibitions. It's really starting to show in the quality of her songs."
Ranka finished up her set and only had her finale left. The stage lights went down while the screens showed some computer-generated visualizations of sound waves to keep the fans entertained. Ranka raced to behind the stage for Nanase and Brera to help her into her new costume. The Meltran uniform that Nanase made took little effort to put on. Brera stood by, holding the remaining pieces of the costume while Ranka rushed to get everything on.
A shadowy figure re-emerged onto the stage while the interim music started to fall quiet. The fans' cheering subsided, awaiting the start of the next track. "Seikan Hikou" (Interstellar Flight) began to play on the sound system. The lights turned on and shone on Ranka, revealing her new costume specifically chosen for her final song. The Zentran soldiers went crazy, cheering and whistling for Ranka as she went into her song and dance. "It looks like the costume is a success," Nanase noted to Brera. He simply smiled and nodded as he looked on.
Nearby the Zentraedi battleship that was holding the concert on its hull, Fleet Commander Raozj's enormous Nupetiet-Vergnitzs flagship monitored the concert while its commander looked on. Enjoying his first cup of hot tea, Raozj watched as the young songstress flaunted his peoples' uniform as an homage. "She wears that uniform well," his archivist office noted. Raozj nodded in agreement. One of the bridge officers quietly handed him a tablet.
After waiting some time for it to be read by his commander, the archivist officer asked, "Our deployment orders, Sir?" Raozj nodded, "Much of our fleet will be leaving the planet already. It looks like our colonization may have to wait a bit. This ship will remain here, however. The mission parameters seem to only call for several beam-cannon equipped gunships and some fighter squadrons." The archivist officer stood motionless for a moment while he ran this information through his mind. "The price of freedom is a high one, Sir. These miclones have paid most of it and are continuing to pay for it now. The least we can do is help pick up a bit of the cost."
Ranka finished her song and gave the crowd a bit of time to cheer before bidding them farewell. Shouts of "Ranka!" and "Deculture!" mixed in with the loud roar. "Thank you all for your support! We wish you the best in building a new home here on our planet. One day, I will be able to call you all my 'neighbors'. Good night!" Ranka waved goodbye with exuberance before she turned to leave the stage. The crowd of Zentrans cheered her off and started to disperse.
The crew of pilots, accompanied by Ozma, finished watching the concert from their seats in the galley. Cal had left a bit early to meet with Klan, so given the opportunity, Ozma decided to share a bit of information with the rest of the new pilots... and Jen Wentz. "So, you guys want to see some classified information?" Ozma said, leaning forward as if he had a secret to divulge. The pilots moved in to take part in the secrecy of the conversation as Ozma tossed the picture out in the middle of the table. Grins crept across their faces as they started to laugh simultaneously at what they saw.
Cal walked across the hangar deck thinking to himself how he was going to approach Klan about his concerns. Reaching the door to Ozma's office, he knocked and waited for permission to enter. "Come in," Klan said from the other side of the door. Cal casually entered and took the seat that Klan had offered him. Klan was busily punching in some information on one of the tablets on the desk. "Hang on, I'll be done in just a sec."
After a minute or two, Klan put the tablet aside, folded her hands in front of her and sat up straight in the chair. "What's on your mind, Wagner?" "Well, I wanted to ask you a bit of a favor." Klan's eyebrow perked up slightly. "I understand that my role in the team is reconnaissance and that I'm not really supposed to be 'fighting on the front lines'. I am concerned, however, that you seek to restrict my role as a combat pilot overall. I was sure that I demonstrated to you the competence to be able to defend myself on numerous occasions before I joined Skull Squadron. Why are you so protective of me?"
Klan was a bit surprised at how soon this question was being asked by one of her chicklings. "When you get your own team or squadron some day, you'll understand that becoming a leader means that you are also personally responsible for the well-being of your pilots. Now, normally, I'd be jumping down your throat for questioning my leadership style, but I've had a bit of an epiphany as of late." Cal quickly maneuvered to alleviate any misunderstandings, "No, I am not trying to question you, Commander. I am just trying to understand why it is that you choose to single me out."
Klan sat back in her chair to answer Cal's question. "I'll be honest. I push you hard because I expect a lot out of you. I'm gonna hate myself or telling you this, but I think you're a good pilot. You're still a chickling, though." Cal frowned at the 'chickling' comment again as Klan continued. "You lack structure and discipline. Having spent so much time in the private sector as a pilot, you haven't had the correct environment with which to grow into the real deal."
Cal became frustrated that his past behavior was starting to catch up to him. "That's the favor I'm asking of you. I've made a conscious effort to leave those demons behind me and I just want a chance to prove that." Klan listened to Cal's request again and responded, "I can see that you are sincere. I just want to remind you that my command style is there to keep you from taking on more than you can handle. I know how you pilots think that you're indestructible."
Cal was a little put off by Klan's unwillingness to budge on the issue. He decided to try a bit of a flanking maneuver. "Look, my experiences with you have been nothing short of humbling. When I wrote you that apology letter, I really meant to try to patch things up. The last thing I wanted was to be on your bad side." "Sounds like a smart decision on your part. Let me ask you something that's been bugging me, then." Cal nodded at Klan's request. The counterattack was on. "I want to know why you choose to concern yourself with my well-being. It seems like every time I look around, you're sticking your nose into my business. It's a bit of an annoyance, to be honest."
Cal hadn't realized that Klan noticed his penchant for being around when she needed him the most. She's a lot more observant than he had expected. Now, he needs to try to explain himself without completely spilling the beans about how he seeks to gain her approval as a pilot. Unfortunately, he doesn't see how he's going to get out of this conversation without tipping her off. "Because I know what you're going through right now. It's tough being left alone after you've lost someone who meant more to you than anything else. I thought that it would be nice to talk to who's experienced the pain of loss as I have."
Klan wasn't completely convinced of his motives. Her woman's intuition was blaring alarms on all channels. "There's thousands of other people in the colony who have experienced the same thing as you and I. Why me? I wasn't even serving on the same ship as you when we first met." Cal was sensing a bit of a trap and maneuvered to avoid it. "Well, we're both pilots and I wanted to be able to learn everything I could from you, since you're an established ace. You know how it is... I'd been off-duty in the hospital for months and I needed to get back up to speed as quickly as possible," Cal said with a nervous chuckle.
Klan could sense he was unraveling at the seams and gave another prod, leaning forward with her hands together under her chin before she spoke again. "You think that I'm a better pilot than you, so that's why you chose to concern yourself with my affairs?" Something inside of Klan wanted to hear him say it. "Well, I wouldn't put those two statements together so effortlessly. Let's just say that one part indirectly caused the other," Cal said. "Why this change of heart all of a sudden? What happened to the cocky, insolent pilot who felt like rubbing it in my face when he beat me in a duel?" "That's one thing I'd like to put in the past. Yes, I won, but I practically had to cheat to do it. If it wasn't for the unexpectedness of my countermeasures, I would not have lasted nearly as long against you."
Klan was starting to get what she wanted to hear out of Cal. "You got that right. Pilots should be a little cocky, but not so much that it blinds them from the reality that goes on around them. I don't mind a little showboating here and there, but as long as your point of view remains firmly planted on the ground, there shouldn't be any issues. I'll be honest, I was completely against you joining this squadron because I felt like you were not firmly grounded. Hearing you say those things about yourself tells me that you're learning the ways of the pilot quickly."
Sensing he was being backed into a corner, Cal had to make sure he didn't get put into a completely defensive stance. "Look, I'm just gonna cut the bullshit and put it out there. I'm sorry for the way I treated you before. I saw in you someone who I wanted to help with their problems, and at the same time make myself into a better person because of who you are and what you represent to me: one of the best pilots in the NUNS. I saved your life against your wishes because I felt like I couldn't let you give up on yourself and because I had already convinced myself of the value--" Cal stopped himself from saying too much and put his hand up to his mouth.
Klan hopped at the sudden cessation of his statement. "Value of what?" she asked. "I've said too much. I don't want you to get the wrong impression." "What, that you're in love with me?" Klan said with a chuckle, as if the very concept was completely impossible. Cal had not compared that word to the way he valued Klan as something of a role model. "No! That's not it at all. I was... I just hoped that we could come to depend on each other for the support that we need to get through the toughest of times." "Like a friend, huh?" Cal didn't know if he should respond. He chose to remain quiet.
Klan leaned back into the chair to consider Cal's proposal. "You know that from a professional point of view, I must remain your commanding officer. Personally, though... well, let's just say we'll see what happens. I'll consider your requests on both counts. I know you wish to feel less restricted when flying in Team Pixie, so my advice is to work hard to earn that privilege. On the other issue, all I can say is that your efforts to help me are appreciated, but aren't necessary." Cal was a bit let down by her desire to deal with her inner pain on her own. "Sometimes the most meaningful forms of help come when they aren't required. Thank you for your time, Commander," Cal said as he got up and saluted. He turned away and headed for the door.
Cal's disappointment was easily detected by Klan. She quickly convinced herself that she was being a bit of an ogress and stopped Cal from leaving. "Lieutenant," she said, waiting for Cal to turn around and look her in the eyes again. Cal turned to look at her with his hand on the doorknob. "Thanks." "For what?" "For being honest with yourself and with me... and for caring enough to talk to me about it." Cal cracked a smile and nodded as he turned and left the room. Klan sat still behind the desk while he exited. After the door closed, she smiled and leaned back to reconsider everything that they had just said to each other. "Friends, huh?" she said to herself, "We'll see..."
Bright and early the next morning, Cal stood in front of the galley counter, waiting for the cooks to replenish the muffins that had recently run out. He looked at the empty plate with a blank stare, probably lost in his thoughts. A quiet voice snapped him out of his zoned-out state. "Hey." Klan stood next to him in line with several items on her tray. Unsure of what was going through her mind, Cal just simply smiled back in response.
"You're up awfully early. What's the occasion?" Klan asked. "Lieutenant Angelloni is holding a preflight meeting for the RVF pilots. I am just grabbing something to eat before attending." Klan seemed a bit disappointed, for some reason. "Oh. Well, I realized that I forgot to thank you for saving my life the other day, so... Thanks." Cal found her words to be uplifting. Maybe she is willing to look past his mistakes and give him a shot. "How about I make you a deal. I'll keep saving your life, if you keep on saving mine," Cal proposed. Klan smiled and held her hand out for a shake, "Deal. But that doesn't mean I'm not going to go easy on you from now on." Klan stared him down as she applied as much pressure as she could to Cal's hand.
Cal released his hand and looked at Klan with a bit of a confused look. He stared at his hand and brushed it off on his uniform with a smile to indicate that he knew that she was trying to assert herself as the superior officer and pilot. One of the cooks replaced the plate with a new one full of fresh pastries. "I'll see you on the tarmac in a couple of hours," Cal said, bidding her goodbye with his muffin and thermos in hand. "Okay, chickling," Klan responded. Cal rolled his eyes as he walked away.
After attending the RVF pilot's meeting and getting into his flightsuit, Cal casually strolled across the hangar deck. A group of pilots and mechanics had gathered around the squadron message board posted just outside of Ozma's office. Curious to know what the big deal was, Cal approached the group of crew and noticed they were laughing at something posted on the board. Seeing Cal coming closer, the group began to break up and some of them patted Cal on the back as they walked away with a snicker. Upon closer inspection of the message board, Cal found a pinned-up picture of himself in his boxers cleaning the toilet. The picture was taken with him leaning out of the stall with brush in hand, apparently to talk to the cameraman.
Cal realized that the setup was planned that way from the start. The maintenance crew member must have been carrying a hidden camera and snapped his photo without Cal's knowledge. Now the whole ship probably knows about his hazing and there is probably only one person to blame for it. Cal heard a faint snicker behind him and he turned to see where it was coming from. Klan's red Queadluun was already standing on the deck elevator. The faceplate was the only remaining opening on the power armor, and her face was all that Cal could see. Before Cal could even say anything, the elevator began to ascend and Klan lowered the faceplate to completely seal the suit closed. The last thing he could see was the mischievous grin on her face.
Out in space, Cal debated on whether or not he should be upset about the candid picture of him cleaning the bathrooms in his underwear. He decided that to do so would be in poor sportsmanship, since it's the standard type of hazing ritual that he had heard so much of while he was test piloting and when he first joined the NUNS.
Team Pixie continued to serve its purpose as escort and security of the fleet in its respective sector. The prospecting operations had started and Cal remained glued to his sensor readouts, looking for any incoming bogies and tracking the occasional defolding of small groups of ships. The prospecting teams were using barge-type ships to carry their equipment and several miclone-sized power armor suits to help them move around amongst the innumerable planetoids in the asteroid belt.
After several hours of watching the activity going on in the local space, Cal's sensor array began to detect another series of large defold signatures. "Commander, we have massive incoming!" he reported. "Relax, Wagner, it's just our fleet reinforcements," Klan said as the ships could be clearly identified as Zentraedi. "Tch... Thanks for letting me know ahead of time," Cal snapped. "Yeah, I could have told you, but I thought I'd let you sweat it out for a second." Cal was a bit glad that Klan was getting her sense of humor back. Between this and the hazing prank, he's fairly certain that she's on her way to regaining her old self... whatever that was like.
On the Quarter's bridge, Captain Wilder greeted the new ships to his fleet. "We're glad you could join the party up here, Captain. We'll definitely need the extra firepower you and your men can provide. These damned Vajra are quite formidable when in large groups." "We look forward to assisting you in your operation. My men and I are hoping to see a little bit of action in the coming weeks. Please send us approach vectors so we can position our ships into the fleet's formation," the Zentran captain responded.
It looks like the fleet operations have received a much-needed upgrade to their combat capabilities. The beam-cannon-equipped Zentraedi ships should be what they need to deal with any Vajra carriers that threaten the fleet from here on out.
