Cathy stood at the head of the small conference table she had set up for her meeting. "I want to thank you all for making it here this early in the morning. We definitely have an important goal to accomplish here, so I wanted to make sure everyone was comfortable for the duration of this meeting." The morning sun shone into the room from the large window to one side. On the table were several small piles of documents, but they were also accompanied by a few boxes of comfort food. Donuts, orange juice, milk, pastries, and several pitchers of coffee were evenly spread out. Only a handful of people occupied the chairs, including Ranka, Sheryl, Brera, Nanase, and Elmo. There were also a few NUNS officers and administrators present.

"I've called you all here to propose the formation of an organization that's dedicated to providing entertainment to the servicemen and servicewomen of the NUNS during wartime and peacetime operations. I would also like for some of its focus to be put onto promoting and supporting racial harmony between Humans and Zentrans," Cathy announced. Some of the people attending raised their eyebrows at the "racial harmony" remark. A few people began to murmur between each other.

Cathy noticed a little air of confusion in the room and continued speaking to clear up any misconceptions. "I fear that our colony is falling into a state of disarray over the recent events that have transpired. I would like to form an alliance of the willing in order to keep the spirits of the soldiers and the citizens in good standing." Many of the attendees who had appeared confused turned back to her with agreeable looks on their faces. The murmurs now were accompanied by nods of agreement to Cathy's proposal.

"I've invited you all here because I think that you will be able to do the most good for this project. As a member of the Office of the Joint Chiefs, it's my duty to facilitate communications between Frontier Government and the NUNS. By proxy, it's also necessary for me to remain privy to the needs of the people, since they are the ones who elect our representative government," she continued. Sheryl was the first to speak up. "I can see why you asked us to come here, but what is it that you would need us for? Frontier government and the NUNS seem capable enough of forming and administrating this project on their own." "Because I feel that this should be a civilian project. The full support of the government can be easily attained by passing a congressional charter, but in order to empower the citizens with the administration of the organization, we should leave the decision-making to you, the people."

Nanase nodded before adding to the conversation, "I agree with Cathy. This project would serve as a bridge between the people and the servicemen and servicewomen of the NUNS. I think we can all relate to the necessity of maintaining a connection between those two groups." Sheryl and Ranka wholly understood what she meant. Even Brera and Elmo could understand, based on their proxy to the three ladies they spend most of their time with.

One of the NUNS officers raised a question to Cathy, "Does this mean that this organization will be fully funded by government resources?" Cathy vehemently shook her head in disagreement. "In order to maintain independence from the government, funds should only be raised publicly. This will keep any governmental corruption from controlling the media that you use to entertain. The last thing we would need is creative control being wrested away from the will of the people." Cathy's answer brightened the faces of the civilians in the room.

Ranka finally entered the conversation, "Would it just be Sheryl and I doing the entertainment, then?" Once again, Cathy shook her head. "The decision would be yours to make. I would highly recommend that you create a network of entertainers to make things easier for you two. You can only be in one place at a time and I'm sure that you both would like to continue your careers without being bound by the operations of this organization. Look at it this way, having other entertainers contribute their time would also serve as a launching platform for their careers. I don't think either of you would mind a little bit of competition, all in the name of creating more culture, right?"

The concept of competition made something click in Sheryl's head. "I like where this is going!" she excitedly said. Brera had remained quiet so far, but he listened to their words and began to form a smile on his face. Nanase noticed his changing expression and had to ask. "What's on your mind, Brera?" He looked up from being called upon and answered, "I can definitely say that we never had much culture to speak of on Galaxy, aside from Miss Sheryl's profound music. Her sound was the only thing we had to shed light on the darkened alleys and corridors of City Galaxy. Although it was significant enough to remind us all of the small shreds of humanity we had left in us, it would have been nice to have more than one person shouldering the load of the culturing of the population." Sheryl put her hand on his shoulder and answered, "I just did what made me happy then. Now, I'd be happy to use my talents to continue to do the same thing here on Aimo."

Elmo knew that he could do a lot to help this project. After all, it was his two biggest clients who showed interest in taking part in it. "If it's networking you need, then look no further!" he exclaimed while holding his cellular phone in the air, "This baby has every number you could possibly need to make your wishes come true." Cathy turned to him with a smile. "I take it that means you're on-board?" Elmo nodded with enthusiasm.

Cathy stepped back and looked around at everyone at the table. "Okay, so this is a project that you all are willing to undertake?" Everyone nodded. "I brought you officers in for input, but you haven't been objecting to anything. Is there anything you'd like to add?" They looked at each other and one of them stood up. "No, Commander Glass. Since this was originally intended to be a civilian project, why did you think it important for us to be here?" "As fellow Joint Chiefs personnel, I thought you might want a hand in this creation. I don't like working alone on things like this, so here's a chance to get in on it while you can."

Cathy took out a blank sheet of paper and handed it to Ranka, who was sitting closest to her on the left. "For those of you who wish to participate in this project, go ahead and put your name and contact information. I will collect this from you when everyone's done and photocopy it for everyone to take home with them." She patiently waited while the sheet was passed around before taking it to get it copied...

"Okay, here you go," she said as she passed the copies around, "I guess one of the first things to do is to give the organization a name. If you guys need any help, let me know. I would definitely like to help out in any way that I can. There's no deadlines, or anything, but just remember that the sooner we can get this thing off of the ground, the sooner we can do some good with it. I don't want to see things fall out of control out there."

Cathy seems to harbor a deep love and respect for the hard work that she and the other colonists have put into building the new colony. She'll be damned if she lets it get out of hand because people can't put their petty differences behind them and work towards a common goal. Keeping the people happy is only one part of the task, though. The inherent corruption found in many people will continuously rear its ugly head in the governmental structure. It's up to the people who care the most about the prosperity of the colony to expose them and remove them from the system. If the watchdogs fall asleep at the wheel, though, the blight will spread until it's nearly impossible to fight. Her plan to create a civilian-controlled entertainment charity is just a way to get more people involved... people whom she loves and trusts to have the same aspirations for the colony as she does.

While Cathy fights for the advancement of the civilian cause, her involvement in both the government and the NUNS gives her three fronts on which to have to battle the demons of corruption. Empowering her most trusted friends to join her daily battle will alleviate a lot of the pressure she is constantly under each day. On the other side of the coin, her connections will allow her to have ears in all places. Such a plethora of reliable information outlets can help her out if she needs to know anything.

...

In the dead of space, Pixie Team carelessly floats about in the middle of their assigned patrol area. Even though Cal had been back in the pilot's seat for a couple of days, he remained relatively quiet while he listened to the occasional chatter between Will and Nene. Klan didn't seem to care that two of her pilots were unnecessarily filling the comm lines with meaningless information. Cal carefully manipulated his vernier thrusters to give Klan a little bump with his RVF. "Hey, watch the paint job!" Klan barked out. "Just making sure you're still with us, Commander."

"I'm doing just fine. You might not care about your cannon-fodder color scheme, but I appreciate mine," Klan remarked. "When do I get to choose my own colors?" Cal asked. "Chicklings don't get their own colors," she simply remarked. "Oh, I see. So... why have you been so quiet?" "Just doing some thinking, that's all. Now, will you quit filling the comm lines with your chatter?" Cal translated her last sentence in his head, "Leave me alone, I don't feel like talking right now." "Yes'm," he cordially responded.

The bridge on the Macross Quarter was filled with a little chatter of its own. The bridge crew waited in anticipation of the results of Monica's last training module simulation test. Inside Captain Wilder's office, Monica was engaged in a real-time simulation scenario; testing every facet of her constitution. Commanding a capital ship requires a myriad of skills and abilities in order to be successful, and the NUNS does not take the role lightly at all. Several chewed-up pens were scattered on the desk, along with the test material for the simulation.

Another pen remained firmly clenched between Monica's teeth as she sought to come up with a solution to defeat the scenario she was currently engaged in. She frantically punched the decided action into the computer terminal and awaited the results as the events in the simulation played out on the screen. Upon seeing the aftermath of her decision, she violently exhaled and dropped her head onto the desk between her arms. After a moment of silence, she lifted her head upwards to read the screen once again; as if she didn't believe what she had just seen. As her eyes oscillated back and forth from reading the text on the screen, a smile slowly crept across her face.

Monica gathered up her things and made her way out of the office. When the door opened, she was greeted by a congratulatory committee composed of every bridge crew member on duty at the time. Even Captain Wilder was among them; he stood front and center to give his words of commendation. After several minutes of cheering and congratulating, Lam had a question to ask, "Does this mean she gets the promotion, Captain?" Wilder gently shook his head and answered, "Not quite. She will still have to go through a review board with several officers at NUNS HQ to make it official. However, seeing as how we're currently mid-operations, I plan on giving her a field commission of the new rank." Some of the crew members gasped in exhilaration at the news.

Captain Wilder turned to Monica and stood at attention. "Lieutenant Lang, tomorrow you will report for duty as Brevetted Lieutenant Commander Lang." Everyone stood at attention and saluted their newly-ordained bridge commander, including Captain Wilder. Monica saluted in return. "Yes, Sir!" Leaving her with a smile, Captain Wilder returned to his chair and settled in. The rest of the bridge crew chattered with each other for a few moments before returning to their stations. Upon seeing Monica's success, Jen debated on whether or not she should ask Captain Wilder about her prospects for advancement.

...

Klan sat alone in the mess hall eating her dinner... or at least she appeared to be eating it. She propped her head up with her hand as she stared blankly at some empty table sets across from her. Her food had barely been disturbed and only showed signs of tampering due to simply twirling her fork in one of the dishes. Cal happened to pass by the mess and noticed out of the corner of his eyes that she was sitting alone, deep in her thoughts. He stopped and doubled back to peer around the corner for verification. Confidently, he strolled into the mess and grabbed a chair at Klan's table. He turned it around backwards and sat down, crossing his arms on the seat back and lowering his chin to rest on them.

"You want to talk about it?" Cal casually asked. "Talk about what?" "Whatever it is that's bothering you. What can I do to help?" Klan shook her head before responding, "There you go again, sticking your nose into my business." Cal sat up and began to reel backwards until Klan smiled and continued, "It's okay. I kind of half-expected you to show up. I've tried hard to figure out why you keep prying at me; you seem to think it's possible to 'crack me' to get me to reveal my thoughts. I figured if I came to a place like this to think, you'd find your way in here to ask me about it." Cal hesitantly lowered his head back down until his chin rested on his arms again.

"It looks like I've been intentionally lured here," he said as he noticed her ulterior motive undertones. "Hmm... you could say that. I'm using you to get what I want... shocking, isn't it?" she asked as she placed her hands together under her chin and rested her head on them. Cal shrugged and smiled. "So, what's on your mind?" She looked down at her food and started to prepare a bite on the fork while she answered, "I still can't get that pilot's death out of my head. I know that it comes with the territory, but for some reason, I've started letting it get to me in a way that I didn't think was possible before. I didn't know the guy before he flew with us, but it was as if his death was familiar to me. I think it's because it could have easily been you or Luca."

That mischievous grin began to show up on Cal's face again. "Oh, I know what that means. You've grown an attachment to me, haven't you?" Instead of answering, she put a bite of her dinner into her mouth so she wouldn't have to verbally agree. Cal decided to watch her finish chewing, instead of continuing on with the conversation. "You're gonna make me say it, aren't you??" she asked with a slightly muffled voice. "Say what? I don't know what you're talking about." Cal responded with a laugh.

Klan looked down at her plate again to prepare a bite and sighed. "I guess it will always be up to me to make sure you all come back home alive from each sortie. It is part of the job description, after all." "Hey, wait. You didn't forget about our little deal, did you? We've got each other covered, remember?" Cal asked. Klan thought about his question, but wasn't all too convinced that it was a fool-proof plan. "I know, but we can't ignore the reality of our own mortality. Combat is frenetic; a million things go on at the same time and anything could happen in an instant. It will be up to me to make the correct decisions so I don't put my pilots into any unnecessary danger." Cal nodded in agreement. "Yeah, I know, but it certainly can't hurt to have reliable wingmates to keep you out of harm's way, right?" "You got that right," Klan said as she put another bite of food in her mouth.

Cal stood up for a moment to turn his chair around the correct way. After sitting down and leaning back in his chair, he continued the conversation, "You know, I have to admit it... I'm really enjoying flying with you, Will, and Nene. I wouldn't want to have anything happen that disrupts our synergy, either." "Then you understand at least a small part of the way I feel. When you get your own team, you'll start to see why I take it a step further and desire to protect your lives with my own." Cal looked down at the table surface as he thought about her mission statement.

"That concept is not so foreign to me, you know. I seem to recall voluntarily putting myself in harm's way to save the life of a red Queadluun Rhea pilot a couple of weeks ago," he said with a smirk. "It wasn't part of your job description, though. At the risk of sounding morbid and ungrateful, I still have no clue as to why you did that. Don't get me wrong; I am glad you did so, but the reason is still quite an enigma to me," Klan responded. Even Cal couldn't convince himself of his motives from back then. "I thought we clarified this already." "No, you stopped yourself mid-sentence because you said that you didn't want to 'give me the wrong impression'."

Cal stopped talking for a moment because he was trapped in a seemingly inescapable situation. "Uhm..." he stammered as he tried to figure out what to say. Klan patiently waited for him to finish the sentence that he had started to say to her several days ago. Cal finally worked something out to say, "Well, look how everything turned out because of that. I'd say the ends justify the means, regardless of their motives." Klan narrowed her eyes and glared at him. "I can't quite put my finger on it, but I know you're hiding something. I will find out what it is sooner than later."

Cal's PDA began to rhythmically chime on his hip, as if to save him from his impending demise. Klan watched him check the screen and put it back in its holster. He sighed as he looked at the table surface before speaking again. "I promise that I'll let you know when I am sure I've found the answer to that question," he said while looking back up at Klan, "I will say that I am glad things worked out the way they did. Before I joined Pixie Team, I used to love just flying. Now, I love flying with the people whom I would entrust my life to. No matter how dangerous it gets out there, I still feel a sense of security with you guys nearby."

She remained silent in her seat as Cal got up to leave. "I've got to get going now. I know you're afraid that something bad might happen to us out there and that you'll somehow make yourself responsible for it, if it does happen," he said as he followed the sentence up with a few superstitious knocks on the table, "I wouldn't worry about it so much. All I can say is that if you start to doubt yourself out there, just look behind you and you'll see that I'll be right there following you to wherever you choose to take us."

Cal quickly glanced into her eyes to assert his sincerity. He waved and left the mess hall with a casual stroll. Klan felt some of the worry being lifted off of her shoulders because of his statements. However, her concentration shifted from one issue to another. Why does Cal seem to fall apart at the seams when he speaks about the motives he had for every time he chose to force his way into her business? His cryptic behavior bores a hole into her conscience.

...

The command staff of the Quarter gathered in Captain Wilder's office for a crew assessment meeting. Samantha Choi, Stephen Ortiz, and Ozma Lee sat across from Wilder, discussing the ship's pressing matters and individual crew development. Each commander held their own tablets, which contained notes on their subordinates.

"I've given Lieutenant Lang her field commission rank. I plan on having her spend some time working with you two during your shifts on the bridge. I need you to get her up to speed on everything she needs to know as quickly as possible. I can't tell you how important it is to have command depth on a ship and we desperately need to grow as many as we can," Captain Wilder said as he looked at Choi and Ortiz. "Sir, what about Lieutenants Margot and Wentz? What are your impressions of them for command potential?" Commander Choi asked. Wilder remained still with his hands folded on the desk as he answered, "I can already tell you that Margot is not interested in promotion. He took a demotion when SMS folded into the NUNS because he was not confident that he would serve for very long after the merge. I've known him for a long time and he's always had the same answer for me when I approach him with that question. Wentz, however... I don't know her all too well, but she seems to be about ready. She hasn't mentioned anything to me. Has she said anything to either of you?" "No, Sir," they simultaneously answered.

Captain Wilder turned to Ozma to get his input on the subject. "Ozma? What about the pilots in your squadron? I want to know how long it's going to be before you let your XO finally get her own squadron." Ozma took a breath and shifted in his chair before answering, "She could easily take her own squadron right now, but I feel that she still has some rough edges to round off. I've had a few incidents coming from her team, due to what I think are personality conflicts." Wilder sat back in his chair to reply, "This incident where one of your pilots was hospitalized concerns me. What did you find out about the cause of that?" Ozma was a bit embarrassed that he could not give the Captain a definitive answer. "Several mistakes were made in the handling of some of the issues and it led to a breakdown of the health and safety protocols. I noted them in detail in my reports, along with the respective written warnings to the people involved." "Has the issue been fixed?" "Yes, Sir. I am confident that my pilots can keep themselves out of trouble now."

Wilder sat back up to ask his next question. "Okay, when Commander Klang is ready for her own squadron, who do you have lined up to take her place?" "My other team leaders are Lieutenants Berstein and Saotome. I've already discussed the issue with Berstein and she tells me that she's only here to fight. She has no desire to take a command rank. I can vouch for her decision. Her family is very important to her and she doesn't want to jeopardize her time with them when she's stationed on Aimo." "...and Saotome?" "He seems eager to move to the next level. I haven't officially discussed it with him yet because I wanted to get Lieutenant Berstein's opinion first. He seems like a good choice, but he's just too young, to be honest." Wilder nodded as he responded, "I understand. You will probably need to farm someone from another ship. I'll get in touch with some of the Zentraedi captains in the fleet to see if they have any possible openings for your XO."

Ozma began to wonder how Klan would take being transferred to an all-Zentraedi ship. He was proud that the pilot who was once his chickling is ready to take command of her very own brood of chicks. However, it may mean that he will also lose Nene at the same time. Things would be very different in the squadron without the diversity those two bring to his squadron.

Wilder moved on down the list of things to discuss. "Okay, we'd need to replace Commander Klang as the leader of her team. Do we have any first lieutenants to take the spot?" "Lieutenant Rora is the only other first lieutenant in the squadron. I can ask her, but she will probably request to transfer with her sister if and when she goes to take her squadron," Ozma replied. "Ah, yeah. You're probably right about that. Okay then, how about second lieutenants? Do you have any that are ready for promotion and to take over a team of their own?" Wilder asked. "Of all of the second lieutenants I have, I've only sort-of started training one for promotion. However, he's a bit of a wildcard right now. I think he's got what it takes to lead a team, but I just want to be sure that he's got his head on straight. He's one of the pilots we talked about just a moment ago in Commander Klang's team." Leaning forward over his desk, Captain Wilder sealed off the issue. "You just said there won't be any more problems from that team, right? Keep moving forward with his training." "Yes, sir," Ozma replied.

"Okay, moving on to our last bit of discussion: combat conditions. We all already know that we have been encountering numerous hostile Vajra nests; and in almost all cases, Galaxy's influence is present. What are your impressions of things to come?" Commander Ortiz didn't take much time to begin responding to Captain Wilder's question. "My instincts tell me that the shit is going to hit the fan very soon." Commanders Choi and Lee nodded without hesitation. Ozma added his two cents, "That's the impression all of my pilots seem to have. We're ready to spring into action at a moment's notice." Wilder just stared blankly at Ozma. It's what he'd expect from the elite pilot squadron housed within his ship's hull. "Everyone should be in a constant state of readiness. I will have no more unnecessary loss of lives because we weren't prepared. Is that clear?" "Yes, Sir," they responded.

...

The outlines of two figures were faintly illuminated by the ambient light coming in through the large glass viewport on the observation deck. A Northampton Class cruiser slowly drifted by the window, partially obscuring the view from within the Quarter. Jen and Cal were comfortably seated on the bench in front of the window, engaged in friendly conversation.

Jen shifted her posture into a formal position. "So, I wanted to ask for your opinion on something." Cal dreaded what he thought she was going to ask him, but remained amicable. "Okay, shoot." "I've been thinking about trying for a promotion. I want to know what you think about me becoming a lieutenant commander," she said. Cal felt he was being put on the spot, but he was also relieved that she wasn't putting any pressure on him to make a decision on whether or not he wants to get into a more personal relationship with her. "Well, I don't think it should be my opinion that really matters here." "I am not going to make a decision based solely on your opinion. I just want to know what you think."

Cal shifted in his seat for a moment to think about his answer. "Hmm... I think you have the intelligence to do it. I'd have to say that you lack assertiveness in a way. Just from my point of view, I don't look at you and think 'Now, there's someone with a commanding presence'. I don't really know of your work habits when you're on duty, since we don't necessarily work closely together. I only hear your voice when launching from the ship, approaching the ship, and when you give us any positional adjustments while we're out there." Jen dejectedly looked at the floor. He realized that his words were a bit harsh and he kept on answering, "That one time that we were chasing that VF-27 was a good example of the necessity of assertiveness. You were quick to catch us leaving our assigned patrol zone and promptly gave correctional orders. At that point, I felt like I was in a bit of trouble!" Cal said with a wink.

Jen perked her head back up when she remembered that instance. Cal continued with his response, "The way I see it is that there are two different personalities you should have. You have your normal, friendly persona that you use in everyday life when you're not on duty. The other is the business-end persona that tells people that you are on a mission to get things done. I think the best soldiers are the ones who can balance the two personalities well. Not everyone can do it. Even I lack the business-end persona, but I'm working on changing that about myself." Jen smiled at the frankness of his words. "Looks like I also suffer from the same condition. I just see the battle-hardened soldiers out there and think to myself 'I could never see myself being such a robot like that'." Cal laughed a bit at her response. "Oh, they're not all that bad. You can't fault them for being overly dedicated to their work. All you have to do is learn from their strengths, and if you're close enough to them personally, teach them a little bit about lightening up when they're off-duty. It's a good trade, I'd say!" Jen could only manage a slight laugh in response.

Through the glass, projectile fire and missile bursts could be seen in the distance. Cal noticed the action going on many kilometers away and hopped up to get a closer look. He placed his hands on the glass to each side of his head and pressed his face as close to it as he could without touching. Jen got up and noticed the look on his face. It was like a little boy looking out of the front window of his house, watching the other neighborhood kids playing. His desire to get out of the ship and into the fight was shown quite obviously on his face; the very look that all pilots get when they have to fly somewhere. The combat in the distance didn't last long, however. As the fighting faded, so did the look on Cal's face.

Cal straightened up and put his hand on her shoulder to continue speaking, "What it really boils down to is that quintessential phrase, 'Do what you love'. I fly because it's what I love to do, and I couldn't be happier. If being in a position of command is what you truly desire in your heart, then by all means, go for it." Jen looked down at the floor as she processed his advice in her mind. "I think I'll do it, then," she said with a confident nod. "There ya go!" Cal exclaimed as he gave her a hug. She was surprised at his enthusiasm over the matter, but she enjoyed the personal contact even more.

Just as she started to hug him back, the PA system opened up to page her. "Lieutenant Wentz, please report to the bridge." Jen clicked her tongue as she and Cal let go of each other. "I guess I'll get out of here. Thanks for your advice. You're a doll," she said as she gently pecked a kiss on his cheek. Cal smiled and placed his hand on his cheek as he watched her leave the room. This was the kind of casual interaction that he enjoyed most about being around her. However, he remembered that he still needed to give her an answer to her question. She's been patiently waiting for him, so it'd be rude to make her wait any longer than he already has.

Minutes later, Jen approached the Captain's chair and stood at attention. "Lieutenant Wentz, reporting as ordered." Commander Ortiz occupied the chair. "At ease, Lieutenant." She relaxed her pose as he continued. "As you know, Lieutenant Lang is now poised to take on her new rank. I just got out of a meeting with the command staff. We decided to farm up some more talent for promotion and your name came up. I need to know what you think about getting started on working towards your advancement." Jen's eyes were lit up and she tried not to laugh at the extreme coincidence of this conversation and the one she just had with Cal. "Sir, as a matter of fact..."

...

Cal decided to retire to his quarters to wind down for the evening. He had another patrol shift to look forward to tomorrow. However, his mind was a bit preoccupied with the aftermath of his conversation with Jen. A lot of the advice had given her was from his personal experience in dealing with Klan. When he first met her, she was one of the "robots" that Jen had mentioned and he was one of the pilots who couldn't take their jobs seriously enough. However, through interaction between the two, they've managed to rub some of their qualities off on the other.

He decided not to give things too much thought, or he'd have trouble sleeping that night. Instead, he laid on his bed and plugged the earbuds from his PDA into his ears and cranked up the volume. There's nothing like some thrash metal to put one's mind at ease. All of his cares and inhibitions melted away as he became lost in the sound of organized chaos from his favorite songs.

A knock sounded from the door. Will, who was watching TV in his bunk, climbed down and answered it. Upon seeing who it was, he stood off to the side at attention. Klan casually strolled into the room without saying a word and stood in front of the bunkbeds. Seeing Cal still lying on his bed with his eyes closed, she loudly cleared her throat to let him know that he should be standing at attention. Each passing second without a response turned her irritation meter up another notch. After a few seconds, she lunged forward and punched him in the arm.

Cal angrily opened his eyes, thinking it was Will messing with him. He noticed Klan standing in front of him with an irritated look on her face and Will in the corner standing at attention. Trying to hop out of bed too fast, he banged his head on the underside of the top bunk again. "Ow! Ffff..." Klan actually laughed at him this time; a drastic change from the irritated demeanor she had just a moment before. Cal was wincing in pain, but glared at her with one eye open as he stood at attention.

She finished laughing and turned to Will, who was still standing in the corner. "I need to speak to him alone. Would you mind waiting outside for a minute?" "Yes'm," Will responded as he walked out of the door. Klan paced for a few moments before turning back to Cal, who was still standing at attention with a salute. She gave him a quick jab to his stomach. "Put your arm down, geez..." Cal exhaled in reaction to the shot in the diaphragm he got from her. He relaxed his posture and started to rub his arm where she hit him before. "For a half-pint, you sure do hit hard. I think you actually hit the bone..." Klan looked back up at him out of the corner of her eyes. "'Half-pint'?? Don't be such a baby. You wouldn't be calling me that if I wasn't micloned right now..."

Klan took a seat at the table and invited Cal to sit across from her. "Remember when I gave you the first lieutenant's manual to read and I said it didn't mean anything yet?" Cal was looking at his hand as he opened and closed his fist, checking to see if his motor skills were still functional. "Yeah, why do you ask?" he said as he put his arm back down to rest on the table. "Commander Lee told me that he wants you ready to take your own team very soon in the future," Klan replied. Cal was also surprised at the coincidental conversations he had today. "Does that mean that I'll be getting transferred, or am I going to stay in the squadron?" Klan looked down at the table and responded, "I don't know right now. I was told that they want to give me my own squadron. If that is true, then it means you might be taking over one of the teams due to the reorganization."

Cal was excited to hear the news of Klan's impending promotion. "That's great news! Congratulations!" Klan tried to crack a smile, but she was noticeably distraught. Cal calmed back down when he realized that she didn't share the same excitement that he did. "It is good news, isn't it?" Klan took a moment before answering, "It is, but I am a little sad at the thought of leaving this squadron. I've served with these guys for a few years now. It won't be the same, that's for sure. But these last few weeks have been quite memorable..." Klan stopped as she smiled again. Her words piqued Cal's curiosity. He had a feeling that she was referring to the time frame within which he has been interacting with her. "I have to agree," he chimed.

She continued, "When I met you, I thought you were the most insufferable, petty, and immature pilot in the fleet. You're still all of those things..." she said with a hint of sarcasm in her voice, "I can think of few people who are more obstinate and hard-headed as you are. No matter how much punishment I doled out to you, you just kept on coming back for more. I've come to admire your resilience, though. Very rarely does anyone bother to go through so much of my shit like that. I have to respect that you don't mind standing up to me when you know you're right about something. Most people cave in easily, especially if I'm in Meltran form."

Cal winced as he responded, "Ugh, that wasn't as easy as it looked." She laughed at his expression before continuing, "You've helped me regain my ability to look at myself introspectively. I just wanted to thank you for not giving up, that's all". Cal could tell that it really took a lot out of her to say that. "You're very welcome," he said. The two sat silent at the table, looking around at random spots of the room to fill the uncomfortable monotony of the moment.

Cal met his eyes with Klan and then reflexively started talking again, "So, uh... What is the first thing we need to do to move forward with the training?" She snapped back into her original demeanor and answered, "I have a couple of other manuals that you need to read and then there's an assessment test. We'll do the test after you've thoroughly studied all of the reading material." "Sounds like a plan!" Cal said. She got up to leave the room, but Cal stopped her as she opened the door. "Klan?" He saw Will leaning against the wall out in the hallway and changed his mind on what he was going to say. "Um... Does this mean I'm not a chickling anymore?" She feigned laughter as she answered, "Ha ha ha... No. You'll always be a chickling until I say otherwise." Cal laughed a little bit and smiled with a nod of acknowledgment.

Will came back in and hopped back onto his bunk. "What was that about?" Cal got up and laid back down on his bed. "They want to promote me," he casually answered. Will was still speaking from his top bunk, "Really? That's cool! From Klan's face, I thought you two were having some kind of special moment in here..." "Yeah, right..." Cal answered as he rolled over to think about things for awhile. Between the two roommates, only Cal knew of the news that their team could be breaking up very soon. Although it's good news, it still brings a bit of sadness to Cal.

Several soldiers are preparing to train for their upcoming promotions, but the fleet as a whole prepares to move to its next staging area. The officers and pilots all know that it means there will be more fighting for the next day or two. Although Skull Squadron might be going through a major restructuring in the future because of promotions, there will be many other squadrons who will have to undergo restructuring due to the attrition of battle. A far more grim outlook haunts the majority of the pilots in the fleet.