A/N: Well, it's been two weeks since I last posted a chapter and it looks like there is, in fact, demand for "MOAR!" My trip to Los Angeles and Las Vegas was pretty bitchin' and I even came home richer than when I left. I Made 300 bucks on a single hand of 3-card poker the night before I left, so it put me well into the positive and I decided to quit right then and there!
I've been trying to work on Chapter 33 so I can finish it before posting 28, here, but I'm having difficulty focusing on writing. It's not just the fact that I've been playing ridiculous amounts of Civilzation 4 and Left 4 Dead 2, but I find myself just sitting at the computer staring blankly at my screen. Hopefully, it's just a fit of writer's block and I'll snap out of it soon. For now, though, I didn't want to leave you all hanging for too long. Here's Chapter 28, despite me not having finished 33 yet on my end.
On a related note, I appreciate all of the kind words you all have had for my work so far. I do want to request that if you want to leave some reviews, try to be as ambiguous as possible about what happens in each chapter. I don't want to have new readers come in and read the reviews and already know a lot about what happens in the story. I went into the reviews to see if there was a way I could edit them, but it looks like that's not possible on my end. If it's possible for you all to do, see if you can clean it up for me so we don't spoil anything for the new readers. If you want to leave more specific comments or questions, feel free to PM me. Your words of encouragement truly empower me to keep on charging through each chapter. Thanks in advance! (07/04/10)
The morning sun began to appear from behind the small mountain overlooking the Zentraedi starport. Only the top half of the Eksidos was illuminated by the sunlight shining over the range. Countless birds bathed in pools of water that had collected from the layer of condensation left on the ship's hull overnight. Down on the tarmac, groups of Zentrans similarly gathered around various pieces of equipment that had been set up overnight so they could flail about as they performed their assigned tasks.
Several technicians continued working on the newly-painted-red Queadluun Rasa prototype, finalizing the necessary checks on the power armor's systems and body. Its test pilot slowly walked around it to inspect and memorize every facet of her new conveyance. Klan now wore the standard Meltrandi flightsuit, which had a retro design based off of the ones worn during Space War I. Amongst the chatter between the technicians, Klan carried a conversation with the Queadluun; the standard ritual performed by many pilots before a flight. The lead technician waited for her to finish before speaking to her.
"Don't get too attached to it, Commander. We already have the new prototype being constructed at the factory as we speak. Feel free to try and push everything to its limits on this one, so we can see how much tolerance it has." Klan appreciated the challenge being presented to her and nodded with a smile. She climbed into the open hatch to the cockpit, using the stepping points located on the Queadluun's maintenance cradle. As she checked her positioning in the cockpit to make sure the interior dimensions were correct, the lead technician also ascended the frontside to speak with Klan before she closed the hatch.
"I hope you got plenty of rest last night because we're going to be running tests all day. We're behind schedule on the project and NUNS command is breathing down our necks about it. They want us to get the Rasa into real combat evaluations as quickly as possible." Klan had no issues with this and fervently nodded. "Then you guys picked the right pilot for this project," she said with confidence. She put her hands up to her face to feel with them; as if something was missing. A quick look to the left and then to the right yielded no answers. The technician smirked, casually reached to his left, and grabbed her helmet to hand it to her. "Forget something?" he asked. Klan nervously laughed to cover up her slight embarrassment and snatched the helmet out of his hand to put it on.
The technician began to speak at an elevated volume so Klan could hear him through her helmet. "We rigged up a temporary solution to the aiming issues you rubbed our faces in yesterday," the technician said with a laugh. He pointed to the ends of the arms of the Queadluun and explained, "We attached simple laser sights to increase visibility, but they'll only work if there's particulate matter nearby to reflect light off of. Basically, they won't work in space. The next prototype will have a fix for that issue..." he said. Klan nodded in acknowledgment. He smiled and patted her on the top of the helmet as he began to descend from the hatch. "Good luck!" he said with a thumbs up.
Before she closed the hatch, she revealed a few objects she had been hiding on her person. Klan reached up to fasten those objects to the top of the display screen while the hatch was still open. Now finished, she toggled the hatch mechanism and it closed, locking itself in place with a separate series of brief mechanical movements. The engine fired up with an ascending, whirring sound and her display screen notified her of the engine's "OK" status. A burst of hot air exited from the exhaust ports on the back as the thermonuclear engines began to operate at an idling level.
Initially closing her eyes to feel the thrum of the engines firing up, Klan opened them to the viewscreen in front of her. A glance upward revealed the items that she had affixed to her cockpit before closing the hatch. A picture of herself as a child playing with Michael, which she had gotten from her parents a couple of days before, had been wedged behind the display monitor. "Michael, I wish you could be here to see this," she thought to herself. Hanging down slightly over the top of the monitor was a looped string that held Cal's hat, which she had restored while she was micloned the same day she visited Michael's grave. "Cal is going to shit bricks when he finds out I'm now a test pilot too! I can't wait to see the look on his face..." she thought to herself while wearing an evil grin.
Outside of the Queadluun, the technicians had cleared away their equipment to make room for Klan's departure. The Queadluun stood up from its cradle, held its arms up in front, and flexed the new five-digit manipulators on the ends of the arms. Stepping forward out of the cradle, the power armor crouched and threw its arms to the sides and back, as if it was about to jump. A quick spin-up of the engine and Klan blasted forward in her new Queadluun Rasa. The shockwave of the sudden burst from the engines knocked a couple of the nearby technicians flat on their butts. Even though they were standing at a safe distance, the power of the new engines was more than enough to send them stumbling out of their stances. Flying parallel to the ground, the Queadluun quickly reached the end of the tarmac and flew over the ocean's surface. Another intense burst from the engines created another shockwave as the Queadluun changed its velocity 90 degrees upwards. The water burst away in reaction to the force being applied to it, as if a depth charge had detonated a few feet below the surface.
As she charged up into the stratosphere, Klan's face bore the look of concentration. Despite the abilities of the Inertia Store Converter system to soak up some of the artificial g-forces generated during flight, Klan could definitely feel the power of the Queadluun's acceleration tugging the skin of her face back just enough to make it clear that she was tearing a hole through the atmosphere. She could feel the acceleration beginning to decline and remembered that the lead technician had asked her to push the prototype to its limits as best as she could. An even more determined look found its way onto her face and she used her controls to put the engines into overboost. Applying the pin-point barrier to the front of the Queadluun as a means to improve aerodynamics and reduce friction, the power armor boosted to unheard-of trans-atmospheric speeds for the Queadluun series.
In the control room, several technicians gasped and murmured with each other at the sight of the readouts from their computers. The lead technician grinned ear-to-ear at his console as the chase cameras struggled to keep a view on the lightning-quick Queadluun. Based on his experience with both the Rasa and Klan, he seemed to expect something like this to happen. He looked up at the command level of the bridge, where Captain Geraum, Jormun, and the project's design chief stood. Three very happy people were eagerly witnessing the maiden flight of their precious project. The results of tens of thousands of man-hours was being played out on the screens in front of them, with significantly positive results... and the testing period was only several seconds old!
Within several more seconds, Klan's Queadluun reached the edges of Aimo's atmosphere. She shut her engines down and let her inertia carry her forward for a few seconds. The Queadluun then turned slightly to the side and reached out with that side's arm to grasp at the emptiness of space. Even though she was now living out her dreams that very second, a part of her consciousness desired to be in a different place: within the fleet of ships still circling the system. A particular ship dominated that thought as she pulled the Queadluun's arm inward with a closed fist. "I'll see you all again real soon... just wait for me," she thought to herself with her eyes closed as the Queadluun held its fist close to its chest. The near silence of the moment was just right for her to lose herself in her thoughts.
As quickly as she entered that moment, she re-opened her eyes, flipped the Queadluun over with its verniers, and boosted back down into the atmosphere to begin her re-entry. A red-hot aura began to form around the power armor, before Klan reapplied the pin-point barrier to reduce the air friction. Upon feeling a sense of unbound freedom within the atmosphere, Klan felt an uncontrollable urge to just let loose all of her inhibitions. In the control room, the radio began to fill with joyous whooping and laughter from the Queadluun's pilot. A couple of technicians stared at the main screen with incredulous looks on their faces. The rest of them were grinning and chuckling at what was going on during their test. Klan had found within her a feeling of true euphoria, brought on by the test flight. However, she acknowledged that none of this would be possible without the series of events that had occurred beforehand to get her to this point.
"Ha ha ha! This is great!" she exclaimed into her radio. She pulled into a steep climb and then looped to a descending trajectory. The high g-forces pulled her body in directions that made it difficult to breathe, but it was a restricting feeling that makes pilots feel so alive while they are flying. It's almost as if the sky is touching them; manipulating their every essence, both physically and intangibly. "Whoooooo...!" she exclaimed in response to both the Queadluun's performance and the g-forces violently pulling at her body. She looked up to the top of her display monitor to see both the photograph and the hat. The picture was staying put pretty well, but the hat was swinging every which way its inertia would send it before the string yanked it back into a steady position.
One of the technicians leaned over to the lead technician to complain about the harsh treatment of their precious Queadluun. "She's going to tear that thing apart if she keeps it up!" he exclaimed into the lead technician's ear. The lead technician simply brushed him away with a smile and a shake of his head. "Just let her do whatever she wants. I don't think we could have picked a better test pilot for this project. If she keeps this pace up, we'll be deploying this thing into space in no time," he said.
…
Luca picked up his tray of food from the galley line and turned towards the mess hall to see Alto sitting in the darkest corner of the room, tilting his chair backwards and chewing some of his food with his arms folded. He didn't look all-too happy about something. Luca, being the caring type and a good friend, immediately approached Alto's table and took a seat opposite of him. Alto simply looked at Luca and then returned his gaze towards some inconsequential object in the distance. He obviously had no reason to stare at that particular item, and it was evident that he was more or less replaying some recent event in his mind.
"Is there something you'd like to talk about?" Luca asked as he dipped his fork into one of the items on his tray. Following a moment of silence, Alto finally spoke up, "Apparently, I'm 'too young' to hold the rank of lieutenant commander. Can you believe that crap?" Initially, Luca didn't really know what he meant by that. "Wait, what?" "Ozma is looking for a replacement for Klan and he told me that I was being considered, but I am too young and inexperienced for the job."
Luca didn't seem to have a problem with the decision, "Well, we are pretty young. You will be eighteen soon... you're already a team leader, and I think that's pretty good for someone your age. You've only been flying in combat for a year now. Ozma is probably just looking for someone who has more experience in both combat and leadership. He'll need someone to replace himself some day, you know." Alto still did not sway from his stance on the matter. "Well, it didn't stop him from choosing Klan as his XO at her age." "Dude, she was 19 and she'd been flying in SMS for a couple of years. I'm just saying that you need to be patient. Everyone knows that you're the one who stopped Grace O'Connor from taking over the galaxy a few months ago. You made first lieutenant because of it. You'll get your chance in due time."
Alto returned his chair back to all fours and grabbed his fork. "I don't know. It just feels like... Do you ever get the feeling that you're just not flying at your best?" Alto asked. Luca leaned forward and rested his head on one of his hands as he answered, "I used to not really care about things like that, but lately... it's like I've become addicted to improving my skills as a pilot. In retrospect, I realize that I did feel as if I wasn't contributing to the cause. I felt like I was holding all of you back. Like that time when I got captured and detained inside of the Vajra cruiser? You had to come and rescue me and it cost you your VF." "Well, we both came out of that alive, didn't we?" Alto quickly responded in an effort to assuage Luca's guilt over the matter.
"Right, but I almost got killed a few weeks ago because I just can't seem to defend myself. I got some combat tips from Lieutenant Wagner of Pixie Team and ever since then, I've been able to score a couple of kills for myself every time we get into a scrape. It's an exhilarating feeling, to be honest. I now understand that it's sometimes necessary to use force when you seek to protect that which is important to you," Luca said. He took a bite of food to give Alto a chance to interject. "Don't sell yourself short when it comes to the contributions that you make to the squadron. Your expertise in reconnaissance and electronic countermeasures has come in handy more than once. It doesn't have to be measured in terms of how many kills you got during some sortie."
Luca swallowed his food and smiled at Alto's compliments. "You, of all people, should know the importance of continuing to improve yourself every day. Even now, you're complaining about not operating at your peak performance levels. You can't fault me for feeling the same way you do about your skills as a pilot." "Touche," Alto said. He knew that Luca was right about that. However, it still didn't solve his problem. "Now that I think about it, it seems as if I have lost sight of what it was that kept me pushing forward with all of my might. You might understand when I say that there is a person or persons who, either passively or aggressively, give you the incentive you need to make yourself into a better person. I don't have my 'wings' with me out here..." Alto said in a sulking voice. He turned his head to the side and looked downwards.
Luca's eyes opened wide as he began to realize what Alto was talking about. "Do you mean Sheryl and Ranka?" Alto didn't respond verbally; he just smiled and looked back at his friend sitting across the table from him. Luca understood that his guess was correct and he smiled as he took another bite of his food. After chewing for a moment and swallowing, Luca decided to make an attempt at comforting his friend. "I miss Nanase too... very much, in fact. Do you know what it is that keeps me going strong every day, though? I know that the better I perform my duties, the faster we complete our mission objectives. That means I will be reunited with her sooner. Lethargy does nobody any good here." "That's true. I first joined SMS to protect. That mission has not yet changed, but I seem to have lost sight of that. You're right, if I allow myself to become lethargic with my duties because I am under protest over something so trivial, then it will just make this mission longer that it has to be," Alto said with an agreeable nod.
They continued eating in silence for a few moments before Alto got a bit curious. "I wonder what they're up to right now..." he said with a day-dreamy tone in his voice. Luca shrugged as he became lost in his thoughts about what his dear Nanase was doing at that moment. They both finished their meals in silence, thinking about the most important things that they had left behind on Aimo.
…
At that moment, Ranka, Nanase, and Brera stood backstage as they watched an amateur rock band covering classic Fire Bomber songs. A mixed crowd of civilians and soldiers filled the outdoor amphitheater located in one of the larger parks on the outskirts of Frontier City. A handful of full-sized Zentrans formed a semi-circle at the top of the carved-out spectator seating area. There certainly was a bit of electricity coursing through the air, powered by the energetic performance.
Ranka stood with her arms folded and nodded to the beat of the band's final number, "Totsugeki Love Heart". "Pretty good," she casually remarked, "Ozma would definitely be enjoying this if he was here." Nanase held a clipboard closely to her body and sighed in relief. "I'm just glad that we got this show organized so quickly and everything went as planned." Ranka retracted, as if about to be hit by a falling object. "Nanase! Shh! You're going to jinx us if you keep saying stuff like that!" she said with a friendly smile. Nanase covered her mouth with her hands, hoping to contain any more words from escaping, and giggled in embarrassment.
Just as the band finished their song, the crowd began to cheer loudly in encouragement for the up-and-comers of the music world. Ranka re-entered the stage, applauding while walking towards the lead singer. After thanking the crowd for their support, the lead singer turned to Ranka and bowed while offering her the microphone turned sideways in his hands. Amongst the deafening crowd noise, the two singers had a short conversation with each other while they waited for the crowd to settle down a bit. Ranka gave him a professional handshake in a thankful gesture and he rejoined his bandmates, who were beginning to pack up their equipment.
Backstage, Nanase and Brera heard a voice from behind them, "Do you guys have an extra mic I can use real fast?" As they turned to see who was talking to them, Ranka started to talk to the crowd to wrap up the show. "Thank you all so much for coming and supporting these new acts! I'd also like to thank all of today's performers for contributing their time and effort in making this all possible!" Suddenly, another voice opened up on the audio system. "Do you think we have time for one more song?" The crowd became a bit silent as they watched another figure appear from the side of the stage, walking towards Ranka's position.
"Sheryl!" Ranka exclaimed. The crowd erupted to see one of their favorite performers making a cameo appearance at such a low-key event. Several voices could barely be heard above the rest of the crowd's roar as they pined for attention from the popular idol. Sheryl walked towards the center of the stage, cheerily waving at the crowd. She and Ranka hugged each other as they met center-stage and Ranka spoke to the crowd, "Well, do you think you guys can spare just a few minutes for Sheryl?" She already knew what their answer would be, but she asked anyways just for fun. As was expected, the crowd roared in a positive response to her what-should-have-been rhetorical question.
"Ha ha ha... Thank you for letting me play one last song. This one is from my upcoming album, which coincidentally, I just finished recording today. I headed straight over here after my session ended and I thought I'd give you all a bit of a sneak preview," Sheryl said. Ranka's expression was an interested one. The crowd cheered with excitement over the unexpected bonus of attending the event. Sheryl noticed the audio technician shrugging at her with his palms upwards and to the sides. "I know, I know... I don't have an audio track with me. I was hoping to try it a cappella, but..." she said as she looked around her for something to use.
The band that had just finished playing was still working to pack up their equipment, but had stopped to watch Sheryl and Ranka at the front of the stage. Sheryl motioned for them to come closer to her. "Guys... come here..." she said in a whispery voice over the microphone. They eagerly approached, willing to do anything for the music idol. After huddling with them for a moment, she spoke louder again, "Do you think you guys can do that for me?" "Yes ma'am!" they all exclaimed and dashed towards their instruments.
Sheryl turned back to the crowd and urged them to cheer the amateur band for their effort, "Okay, these guys are going to play backup for me. Just keep in mind that they've never heard this song, but I know they'll try hard to keep a good beat," she said as she turned and winked at them. They smiled and laughed with nervous hesitation; the opportunity to play backup for one of the galaxy's biggest music idols was giving them butterflies in their stomachs.
Ranka stood to the side to spectate and began to clap her hands to the beat of the song being played. Sheryl entered the lyrical part of her song on queue and brought a sense of awe to the crowd from her words. As they watched from backstage, Nanase and Brera were joined by Elmo. Brera was enjoying the song, but something was bothering him about this impromptu performance. "Elmo, isn't this kind of a bad thing for Sheryl to perform one of her new songs when it hasn't even been released yet? ...the album just finished recording today!" he asked. Elmo shook his head and smiled, "I'm a master negotiator, my dear Brera. Sheryl owns the creative rights to her songs, in exchange for a slightly lower cut in residuals. That's just how she likes it. When I got back from vacation, those record execs were playing her like a marionette. Now, the album is cut and she can move on to the next item on her agenda without those vultures breathing down her neck..." Nanase and Brera smiled at the good news and turned back to the stage to watch the rest of Sheryl's performance.
Sheryl's new song was being delivered extremely well, both lyrically and musically. She danced about the members of the band, who were trying their hardest to remain harmonic, despite the lack of any sheet music or practice on the song. Sheryl was pleased with their improvisations, which made the song really glow with energy. She spent an equal amount of time singing alongside each band member, casually touching them or leaning against them with each song verse. The musicians all seemed to share a sense of harmony with each other; each one thoroughly enjoyed playing the song alongside one of their greatest musical influences.
Sheryl finished her song with the backup band playing a bit of an explosive finish. The electrified crowd stood up and cheered. The members of the band were dumbfounded at their own performance, standing still in disbelief that they had just played a song with the Sheryl Nome. She turned and motioned for them to come nearer once more and they approached after putting down their instruments. They all joined hands and Sheryl led them into a bow towards the crowd.
Ranka then approached the front of the stage, clapping along with the crowd. "Wow! Great job guys! Give them a hand, everyone!" she exclaimed. The crowd answered in kind and the band members returned to the rear of the stage to continue packing up their equipment. Sheryl draped her arm around Ranka's back as Ranka finished the show. "Make sure you support the acts who played here by picking up their discs and merchandising if you liked them! They all spend so much time working hard to realize their dreams and they could use your help in paying a few bills along the way, ha ha ha!" Ranka jokingly remarked. The band members in the rear laughed along with the joke. They knew that she was totally right; the life of an amateur band is spent sleeping in their cars and frequently eating microwaveable noodles as a meal.
A bit later backstage, all of the acts were in attendance at the after-event party being held. Groupies, stage techs, friends, and family, were strewn about the room, engaging in friendly conversation with each other. Despite being in a celebratory atmosphere, Elmo attentively watched his tablet as information poured in through the wireless connection. "Wow, the pre-orders for the concert tape are skyrocketing," he remarked. "I'm sure it's thanks to Sheryl's song. I'm excited to hear the rest of the album some day!" Nanase exclaimed. Sheryl glimmered a smile in Nanase's direction for the compliment.
Elmo continued to read the sheets, which were being updated in real-time from the vendors working the show. He smiled as one figure jumped out from his tablet. "That band that played for you already sold out of their demo discs and t-shirts. I think you really did them a huge favor, Sheryl," he said. "Hey, they deserve it. Those guys have a lot of talent!" Ranka said. Everyone at the table turned towards where the band members were sitting and raised their glasses in a toast to the amateurs. The day could not have gone better for those lucky individuals; it was as if they were in a dream that they dare not wake up from.
Ranka sighed as she turned back around to her front. "I'm glad that we're done with this event. I'm so tired from all of this hard work," she said as she looked at Sheryl, "Does this mean that you'll be working with us for now?" Sheryl tipped her glass up to finish the contents inside before answering with an excited nod, "Oh yeah!" She reached over to the champagne bottle to pour another glass. Although excited by Sheryl's availability, Ranka was still sulking a bit. "Now, all we have to do is convince the NUNS to let us visit the deployed fleet. We'll be able to see Alto and Luca again...!" she said, looking at Sheryl and Nanase. Even Ozma had entered Ranka's mind; he was definitely an important part of her life that she sorely missed.
…
"Keep your eyes peeled out here, gentlemen. My instincts tell me that we're about to run into some less-than-savory characters soon," Nene barked over the comm lines. Pixie Team cruised through the outskirts of the fleet's extremities, looking for a fight once more. They were again accompanied by a pilot from another ship. No doubt, Ozma was setting things up to find a replacement pilot, since the squadron will probably be short one soon. The last prospective pilot wasn't too bad, but he probably wasn't quite Skull Squadron material.
It didn't take long for Cal's radar to signal him of incoming hostiles. "Heh..." he scoffed, upon the realization that it was once again playtime. Without hesitation, nor a word spoken, Nene boosted off towards the incursion while Will anchored himself to a medium-sized planetoid to begin his sniping routine. Cal transformed to battroid mode and stood watch over Will, giving the sniper the cover he needs so he can concentrate on the job at hand. The 'guest' VF hesitated at the aforementioned actions by the pilots of Pixie Team. He didn't seem to know what was going on; only that there were incoming hostiles.
"Well, do you need an invitation, pilot?" Nene rhetorically asked, "Let's go, chickling!" The pilot didn't like being called that, and grunted in response as he boosted off towards her. Cal watched over Will with vigilance, despite his strong urges to get into the thick of the fight off in the distance. "I won't mind if you let a few of them slip by towards us," he said with a chuckle as he presented his battroid's fist towards Will. They bumped fists, in what seemed to be a recurring ritual for them, and Will began to open fire on the incoming Vajra pests.
When Nene got close enough to engage some of the drones, numerous new bogeys appeared on the radar. It looks like she'd been lured into a bit of a trap. "Uh.. guys?" she chimed out with a bit of nervousness in her voice. "I'm ready and waiting, Nene," Cal responded, "All you have to do is say the word..." Cal patiently waited in battroid form while floating near Will, who was firing at a pretty rapid rate for a sniper. It was definitely an indication of a target-rich environment. Cal could swear that he was about to start drooling at the prospects of getting tangled up with so many baddies.
Nene furiously chased one of the mecha-drones, firing on it every time she could maneuver herself into an advantageous position. It didn't seem to be trying to shake her from its six; it only seemed to be distracting her enough for one of its companions to get behind her. Sure enough, two fighter-drones engaged Nene from behind. Before they could even get a shot off, though, a spread of gunpod fire pelted both drones. The VF-171EX zoomed past them as they exploded, but he was also being chased by a handful of Vajra. Nene smiled at the successful kills; at least this pilot was making himself useful.
Realizing that they were sorely outnumbered, Nene made the call. "Okay, Cal... bring the pain!" she ordered. Cal had already transformed to fighter form and zoomed off before she could finish her sentence. "Whee!" he squealed in excitement. It was enough nonsense to bring a smile and slight laugh to Will and Nene. She finally connected with her current target and put it down with a gun kill, and changed her priorities to help the 171 pilot shake his pursuers before he bought the farm. "Hang in there. I'll have those drones off of your ass in a few moments," Nene said.
She moved in behind them and opened fire, causing them to scatter a bit. As they all moved into a dive to follow the 171, a couple of sniper rounds passed by, hitting one of the drones. The 171 pilot could be heard on the radio, grunting and panting as he tried his best to keep from being overtaken. Fortunately for him, he had an experienced Meltrandi pilot covering him. Nene sought to return the favor and cleared out two more drones from behind the 171, leaving one drone to deal with. The 171 realized this development and allowed the final drone to get closer to him before he transformed to battroid form, whipped around, and opened fire with his gunpod. The sudden transformation caught the drone off guard and it could not react in time to avoid being hit.
Nene and the 171 pilot found themselves alone amongst the planetoids for just a few moments. She turned to see Cal engaging a few drones on his own, but he didn't seem to be struggling at all. "Lieutenant?" the 171 pilot began to inquire. Nene put out her Queadluun's arm to stop him from engaging Cal's targets a few kilometers away. "Just watch," she said with a smile. "He's seriously outnumbered!" he responded. "That's just the way he likes to fight. You'll see..."
The radio was filling up with Cal's taunts and laughter. He exhibited no fear at all, despite having the odds stacked against him. Using the occasional fold-magnetic chaff packet, he kept his pursuers at bay while he chased one of the drones. Nothing it did was enough to shake Cal off of its six and after a few more seconds, Cal placed a salvo of gunpod fire through its protective husk. A quick 180 in battroid form and Cal transformed to fighter form, charging back at the group of Vajra headed his way. Amazingly, he was able to quickly gain missile lock on most of them and opened fire with the missile bays on the super pack parts.
Each missile weaved its way through the empty space towards the targets. As Cal zoomed between the group of drones, they turned a bit to watch him pass by, distracting them from the incoming missiles. Most of the drones were hit and destroyed by the missile impacts. Only a couple of them remained focused on Cal and they re-entered pursuit with even more intensity. Unfortunately, the speed they had lost trying to turn around contributed to their demise. The drones were now easy targets for the sniper positioned scores of kilometers away. Two more rounds hit their targets and Cal found himself in a one-on-one with the last mecha-drone.
Never one to miss an opportunity for a little fun, Cal turned around towards the mecha-drone and tossed his gunpod to the side. The drone witnessed this foolish act and charged in after a slight hesitation at the gesture. Cal's actions merely taunted the drone into engaging him in full-on melee combat, his favorite. "He's out of his mind!" the 171 pilot exclaimed. Nene and Will just laughed while they watched Cal fighting with the mecha-drone.
A strong lurch from the drone enabled it to get the first attack off in the form of a swipe from its claws. Cal dodged it and each successive swipe by skillfully backing away. It really seemed as though he was just toying with the drone at this point. A forwards flip enabled him to dodge another attack and he threw his battroid's legs down onto the drone's topside, stunning it as he backed away for a moment. "Come on, asshole..." he taunted with a "come hither" motion from his battroid's hand.
Amazingly, the drone seemed to react out of rage; even though it was supposed to be socially hive-minded creature, incapable of emotions. Initially, it looked like the drone was going in for another swipe with its claws. However, it quickly changed its attack when it neared Cal and flipped itself upwards to strike with its tail. The attack connected with the battroid, sending it spinning upwards and out of control. Several alarms began to sound in the cockpit, warning the pilot of possible systems damage. "Bastard..." Cal grunted as he tried to regain control over his VFs attitude. A controlled thrust from his verniers placed him back to facing the mecha-drone, who was rearing for another lunge.
Rather than draw the fight on too long, Cal opted to go for the killing blow. Catching the Vajra's attacking claw, he shifted position enough to allow the drone to sail overhead, while pulling it's claw past to accelerate his own attack. A quick swipe from his combat knife formed a glowing arc crossing the drone's midsection. The disemboweling attack left the drone with only precious seconds to live. Its desperate measures yielded no results and only allowed Cal to strike again at a critical point. "Lights out...!" he exclaimed as the attack connected.
He retracted his combat knife from the now-lifeless corpse and checked his radar to see if there was any more action going on around him. "That's it?" Cal asked. Nene and the 171 pilot rejoined Cal at his position. The 171 pilot was in a state of disbelief at what he had just seen. "I didn't know RVFs can fight like that. I always considered them to be cannon-fodder, when they're not being used solely for their enhanced radar capabilities." "No! Don't stroke his ego!" Nene exclaimed in futility. "Too late!" Cal responded with a smirk.
Suddenly, the pilot remembered where he had seen a similar display from an RVF. "Wait, aren't you that guy who beat a red Rhea while flying an RVF-171EX? Wasn't that the Nephilim's Queadluun?" he asked. Cal became slightly demure at the question, though. He didn't want to downplay Klan's piloting capabilities. "Yeah, that was me. She beat me the day before that, though, so it was just a rematch." "Wow, I should have known, then. Some of the guys on my ship still talk about that dogfight you guys had so many weeks ago."
Reminded of Klan, Cal began to think about how much he missed being able to fly with her. There was the part of him that enjoyed the flying, but there was another part of him that simply enjoyed being around her in person. It was a one-two punch that always connected with his emotional self since she returned to Aimo. Fortunately, he's been able to endure the separation from the person whom he once considered to be his rival and prime motivational factor for his skills as a pilot.
…
Back in the city of Laplamiz, Klan had finally made her way home after a fourteen-hour testing session with the new Queadluun Rasa. Even though she had been rested for the long day ahead of her, she was now too tired to do anything but flop down on her bed and roll onto her side to fall asleep. She wasn't too tired to bask in the feeling of extreme accomplishment she had earned through the course of the day, however. A lot of testing had been completed, thanks to her and the efforts of entire design team. There were a lot of happy faces seen on the command deck towards the end of the day and Klan could sense that this was a sign of good things to come for her. She fell asleep with a smile on her face, but deep within her subconscious, there was a nagging doubt festering somewhere.
In her dream, she found herself in space, among the crew of the Quarter. For some reason, however, she was unable to speak to them or touch them. It was as if she was a ghost haunting them in a vain effort to reconnect with the people whom she cares most about. She stood in the hangar, watching every pilot leave the ship with organization and calmness about them. It didn't seem like they were in a hurry to go anywhere or were in a sense of heightened alertness. A familiar RVF-25 taxied past her and onto the deck elevator. She tried to see inside of the canopy to identify the pilot, but it was too murky to even make out a faint figure.
Once the hangar was emptied, Klan felt a hand fall onto her shoulder. "Some things haven't changed, have they?" a voice sounded from behind. She turned to see an ethereal image of Michael, who wore a casual smile. However, he had taken the form of a giant like her and she was able to look into his eyes at an even level, for a change. The strange thing, though, was that she didn't feel like she had lost him so many months ago. It was as if he had always been with her, so she didn't start to cry over their reunion. "What?" she asked. "Klan..." Michael said, "You're still unable to communicate your true feelings to the people you care about. Tell me, are you prepared to suffer the consequences if you wait too long again?"
Upon hearing his question, she began to remember the hardships she went through while she dealt with his death and the words he uttered to her when they parted for eternity. Before she could convey any of her feelings to him, the image of Michael began to fade away. She lunged forward to try and stop him from leaving. To her surprise, she was able to embrace his body and it seemed like she had succeeded in stopping him from leaving. After a moment of silence, she looked back up to his face, only to find that she was now holding Cal in her arms. He seemed to be stuck in a catatonic state; unaware of her presence. Klan hesitated once more to emotionally react and she then began to feel herself slipping down through the hangar deck, as if something was pulling her away.
Multiple attempts to grapple onto Cal's body were all in vain; it was as if he had the texture of a fish, fresh out of the water. She continued to fall through the ship's hull and when she was exposed to its view from outer space, she saw that the ship was surrounded by countless sources of negative energies; the feeling of being surrounded by hostile entities. The ships in the fleet began to open fire at the enemy presence, only to have their fire returned by artillery from the newly-emerged Vajra cruisers. In the very farthest reaches of her vision, she could see a battlegroup of Galaxy cruisers and carriers lurking in the back. Once the Frontier fleet had been decimated by the attacking entities, the Quarter was swallowed up by a giant shadow, never to be seen again.
At that point, Klan's eyes opened up and she stared directly in front of her. She remained motionless as she tried to process the meaning of her vision. Was she really visited by Michael's ghost? If so, was he trying to make her understand that her tendency to hesitate, when it comes to the matters of the heart, will lead to more hardship in the future? When faced with the opportunity to express her feelings, her hesitation was punished by losing her grip on Cal and being pulled away from the Quarter in a violent fashion. Now unable to do anything about it, she was witness to the possible destruction of the Quarter and everyone who served on the ship. She gritted her teeth in a gesture of defiance at the fate that was being shown to her; at no point will she ever allow such a thing to happen. All of her life, she was the protector of those whom she loves. She was not about to let up, despite her current location. Even her will for the survival of those people should be strong enough to have an effect on their fates until she returns to fight at their side.
