For the People

by XaosElysion

A new colony is founded, and the people try to resume a life interrupted by war. But the war has cost Frontier heavily, and change is coming. Alto, Ranka, and Sheryl are asked to make a choice that should be easy, but may be the hardest decision yet.

2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Don't own it. If I did, I wouldn't have left the ending so open.

FTPFTPFTPFTP

Alto Saotome loved flying the VF-25. It was an absolute hot rod of a machine, the cutting edge of VF technology. Brera might argue that the VF-27 was better, but the only reason Ranka's brother was capable of flying a 27 was due to the heavy cybernetic modification he had undergone. As far as Alto was concerned, anything that required you to become less human to operate it was a step down.

Alto hadn't truly appreciated the VF-25 until he had been forced to fly the VF-171s that NUNS operated. The heavily modified VF-17 was a pig; it was somewhat capable as a space fighter, but would have been slaughtered in the atmosphere, where the blocky shape and the add-on weapons would have degraded its performance below VF-11 levels.
Not that the Thunderbolt wasn't a good fighter, but it was really more of an attack Valkyrie, designed for ground and ship assault and the suppression of Zentran renegades. The Messiah was a dogfighter, built for high-speed air and space combat.

He reveled in the fighter's capabilities right now, racing through the atmosphere to reach his assigned patrol route. No one in command expected any trouble on the patrols; however, no one was certain that every last malcontent from the Galaxy had been accounted for, so the patrols were made just to be certain.

Alto throttled back as he and his wingmate arrived at the start point for their patrol, reporting in to fighter control and the flight they were relieving. He glanced back and felt a pang seeing the bold blue of fighter that followed him, knowing that it was Lt. Commander Klan Klan that was flying the fighter, and his friend Michel was gone. He found it somewhat ironic that Klan was still flying a fighter that Michel had flown, while Alto was on his third Valkyrie since the sniper's death. It had become a running joke as to how many VF-25s the bishounen pilot had gone through since enlisting with SMS. Maintenance insisted that the fighter he used first, Guilliam's fighter, was the same fighter up until it was destroyed when Alto rescued Luca from the Vajra battleship. Commander Ozma insisted that with the amount of damage that had been done to the fighter, and the sheer number of replacement parts that had been used – namely both arms, one leg, most of the armor, and the complete replacement of the avionics and nose section – that the fighter that was lost in the rescue was technically Alto's second. It seemed that neither side would give in on the issue; Alto wasn't sure whether to be amused or dismayed. He had since destroyed both his VF-171 and the VF-25 he fought the final battle in, so he was either on his fourth or fifth Valkyrie. The bright blue VF-25G had been Michel's second since Alto joined SMS, and a part of Alto raged that his friend had not died in the cockpit like a pilot deserved.

"Alto, you're being quiet today," Klan's voice came over the radio. "Normally you're waxing ecstatic about flying in a sky by now."

Alto snorted, and then keyed the talk button. "I was just thinking about the past today, Klan."

"Well cut it out. You have lots to think about in your present, including giving me my last certification so I can officially be a VF wing leader. So pay attention to what I'm doing, and maybe let me take the lead so you can do some certifying, okay?" Klan had been annoyed by the whole process, although as a meltran she understood that the military had rules like these for a reason. She just didn't have to like them.

"Roger, roger, Lt. Commander. Skull-2, this is Skull-4, the lead is yours."

"You have my wing, Skull-4," Klan replied. "Try not to stare at my ass."

Alto chuckled. "Roger, Skull-2"

FTPFTPFTPFTP

The two VF-25s completed their sweep six hours later, as Wolf-3 and Wolf-7 reported on station, and turned their fighters back toward Frontier City. There was a referendum as to what both the city and the planet were to be named soon, and Alto wasn't sure which name was going to be chosen, although he himself favored the classic 'Barsoom'. As long as the wags trying to name it 'Ranka's World' didn't win, he didn't much care. Ranka didn't want the planet named for her, and Alto supported her in her view. He hadn't even paid attention to the debates about the city name, as he thought Frontier City was a fine name. The ship had served the colony well, and deserved to be remembered, even if Alto hadn't cared much for living there.

"So Alto," Klan's voice sounded over the SMS comnet, "I heard the Commander spoke to you last night…"

"Not you too, Klan!"

"I was just curious as to what you were thinking. Do you think you could marry Ranka and Sheryl?"

If it had been anyone else, he would have told them to mind their own business. But this was Klan, the woman who had told him of Sheryl's condition, the woman who advised him to seize the time he had before it was gone. He respected her opinions, and he knew that watching his love life was as close was the meltran was ever likely to get to romance again. While it was somewhat voyeuristic of her, she meant well, and he was able to talk to her, getting her insight as a woman and a soldier.

"I…I don't know, Klan. It wasn't something I had ever thought about. I knew I was going to have to choose some day, and I was dreading the choice. I…I love them both, deeply, but it's different for each of them."

He saw Klan's grin on the com screen, and knew what she was thinking. This was good, juicy stuff! But he trusted her. "So how is it different, Alto-hime?"

He growled, "Cut that out," and then gave a sigh. "Ranka is like the sun. She's warm, and cheerful, and without her the world would be dark and lifeless. Her light reflects from everyone, and spreads to everywhere, and she makes me better as a person, because there is nothing but light within her."

Klan almost commented, but Alto was only this poetic when he was being honest, and she didn't want to break the mood. "And Sheryl?"

"I used to think Sheryl was like the moon. More elusive, hiding, only shining upon me when she cared to." He took a deep breath. "Then, you told me she was dying, and I felt like I was drowning, or suffocating, and I realized that somewhere along the way, Sheryl had become like air to me, and that…that I couldn't live without her." He was embarrassed, he had never told anyone this, but he needed to talk about this with someone, and Klan was the most unbiased ear he knew.

The blunette was silent for a few minutes as they flew, but her expression was pensive, and he knew she was thinking about what he had told her. Finally, she spoke once more. "I think…I think you and I both know that, if you had to make a choice between the two of them, who you'd choose. It would hurt all three of you terribly, because you're all so close, but in the end, you would choose the Fairy." She saw him wince, and she knew she had scored a hit, but she had deliberately avoided using the rosette's name to soften the impact. "But right now, the issue is that you don't have to choose between them. You've been given a gift, Alto, and you need to decide what to do with that gift. Do you love them both enough to not choose between them? Is not making a choice, and trying to love them both, something that you can do? Or will you end up favoring the one over the other, and end up with all three of you hurting just as bad as if you had made the choice?"

"I…I don't know, Klan. I haven't had a lot of time to think about it. I've never really thought about it in those terms before. Thank you for that, Klan."

His fellow pilot nodded. "I've had a lot of time to think about things like this. I like Sheryl, Alto. And I like Ranka. I don't want to see any of you in pain. If it were me, I know how I'd choose. I've lost everyone dear to me. If it were me, I'd grab onto those left and never let them go. For me, all I have left are my friends. You have so much more. Make the right decision for Alto, and let your girls decide what is right for them."

"Thank you, Klan."

FTPFTPFTPFTP

Ranka woke up slowly, wallowing in the ability to sleep in for once. Her arms were wrapped around the huge, sakura-dappled pillow that Nanase had made for her, calling it Ranka's 'substitute sakura-hime', referring to Alto's most famous Kabuki role. She appreciated her friend's gesture, and loved the massive pillow both because it was wonderfully squeezable, and for what it represented.

As she woke up, she became more aware of her surroundings. She became aware of the second pair of arms wrapped around the pillow, the hands that were pressed to her belly, and the leg that crossed hers at the ankle. She opened one eye slowly, and was not surprised to see the pink locks of Sheryl's hair on the other side of her body pillow. Her mind was still moving slowly, so her gradual thought processes confronted the idea of Sheryl sharing her pillow.

Part of her was upset, for this was her pillow. Sheryl got Alto almost every night; Ranka should at least get to keep her pillow to herself. Another part empathized, for she knew her fellow singer missed their boyfriend just as much as she. Another part analyzed that thought, and decided that calling Alto 'their' boyfriend was right, for whoever he ended up with, right now he belonged to the two of them. Only one might win, but they were the only two in the race. A separate thought took up that thread, and thought about what Klan had told her. Did there have to be a winner? Could they both win? What would that entail? Her mind drifted to Sheryl's warm hands on her tummy, on the smooth leg that even now shifted up and crossed hers at the thigh. What if it were Alto, and not her pillow, that lay between them right now? What would it be like to wake up like this every day, entwined in the limbs of her love and her best friend? Sheryl's hands shifted, one drawing Sheryl's body closer to the pillow, and the other sliding down and back to grip Ranka's rear. The vernette came completely awake now, lifting her head slightly, but her bedmate was still asleep. Ranka was beyond embarrassed, her cheeks flushing and her eyes wide, but she didn't get up, not yet. If they were to make this work, this was something she would have to deal with.

She lifted her head a little more, looking at the rosette intently. Sheryl Nome was beautiful; there was no doubting that fact. The Galactic Fairy had a pretty face and a body that Ranka envied, with lush curves and almost translucent, pale skin. Her hair was gorgeous and exotic, and Ranka knew if the woman opened her eyes they would sparkle like gems. Ranka felt plain and dull next to her rival, and yet her rival saw something in Ranka that she herself rarely saw. Perhaps that was why they had been able to carry this on for so long. Sheryl adored Ranka, not Ranka Lee the idol, but shy, nervous Ranka who sang that day in Formo. And Ranka had come to love Sheryl, not Sheryl Nome, but the wild, outspoken, yet fragile and needy Sheryl, the girl who still had nightmares about the slums and clung to Alto in her sleep. Ranka was coming to realize that losing Alto might break her rival, just as much as it would break Ranka herself. Ranka had always sung to Alto. Now Sheryl did too. With these thoughts in her head, the singer lay her head down and closed her eyes. Nudging Sheryl's hand slightly higher, so that it rested on her back instead of her bottom, she went back to sleep.

FTPFTPFTPFTP

Klan Klan (what in Breetai's name were my parents thinking when they named me?) climbed down slowly from the cockpit of her Valkyrie. She still hadn't fully gotten used to piloting the fighter, as the Queadlunn-Rau was much more intuitive, though considering some of the zentran and meltran who operated them, she supposed that was a good thing. And she understood that the VF-25 was worlds better than the previous generations of fighters, which used more manual controls and didn't use feedback from the X-gear system. No wonder the Queadlunn was such a feared weapon in the Zentran War!

Luca Angelloni was waiting for her at the bottom of the ladder, and she cocked her head. Luca was one of Michel's closest friends, but he had had some involvement in the Galaxy plot, and Klan had a hard time trusting the young man. His role was minimal, and she knew he had been co-opted and forced into his role, and that he had tried to keep the damage to a minimum, but he should have known better than to trust anything that snake Mishima had said. Sadly, Luca was one of those people that believe the best of everyone, and was too often used by the less scrupulous. He hadn't known the ultimate goals of the conspiracy, but he had known that the military knew more about the Vajra than they were letting on. If he had let the right people know, like his commander, SMS might have been more prepared and Michel might still be alive.

That was probably why Luca was so solicitous towards Klan, some overbearing sense of guilt on his part. Klan accepted Luca as a friend, for he was one of Michel's special people, and she'd as soon spit on her love's grave as throw that away, but that didn't mean that she couldn't make the boy suffer from time to time.

"Good Afternoon, Commander," Luca said, and Klan gave him a good glare, just to remind him that he still wasn't off the hook. "Commander Lee would like to see you at your earliest convenience."

Ah, so that was it. There was no reason for Luca to be the messenger boy, as her plane captain could have passed on the message just as well. That meant that the Commander was using Luca as a message to Klan, deliberately putting the two of them in contact as a way of telling her to settle the matter. What he didn't realize was that the meltran had hundreds of thousands of years of nourishing a grudge in their genetic makeup, and she would not be swayed so easily. Still, it wasn't Luca's fault that the Ozma was being an interfering old pain in the ass, so she reached up and ruffled the boy's hair. "Thank you, Lieutenant," she told him, and tossed him her helmet, walking out of the hanger to the locker room and a nice hot shower.

FTPFTPFTPFTP

Ozma Lee was going over the patrol report (the flights were so routine that all the pilots had a generic report stored in the database that they generally only needed to add dates, times, and personnel to the form before sending it in) when there was a knock on his door. "Come in," he said, quickly browsing the document to make sure there was nothing unusual, then affixed his digital signature and sent it up the chain of command. He looked up to see the person he expected, Lt. Commander Klan, standing easy in front of the desk.

"Lieutenant Commander Klan Klan, reporting as ordered, sir!" she barked, coming to attention, and Ozma winced. He hated military formality, and Klan knew it, so that was probably her way of getting revenge for him using Luca as his messenger. Still, if she was mad at him, then she wasn't taking it out on Luca, so he could deal with her being snippy.

"Lt. Saotome gave you a good rating on the patrol, Klan, so I'll be placing you into the rotation as wing lead. We also have several new pilot recruits incoming, so I'll be using you to your full abilities."

Klan tilted her head slightly. "Anyone I know?"

"One of the backup members of Alto and Luca's aerial demonstration team at Mihoshi just reached service age and is interested in joining. We have two pilots who were enlisted in NUNS but want to transfer now that the conflict is over. And Nene is considering changing over to Valkyries, now that you're flying them full time."

Klan winced a little at that. Nene had been detailed to orbital cleanup and retrieval, which was mostly body retrieval, although she had been involved in the operations that had landed one of the manufacturing Islands as well as two of the surviving agricultural Islands. Between the scarcity of operable Queadlunn armor and Klan's reluctance to macronize, the two had been split up since landing. She couldn't blame her surviving squad mate for wanting to transfer to a position that would put the two of them back together. Still…

"Would you consider suggesting to her to back up Kanaria? I think Nene would be a better fit in the Monster than as a Valkyrie pilot."

Ozma mulled the thought over for a moment. "She is a little high strung for Valkyrie duty. And I know Kanaria wouldn't mind having someone else on call besides herself whenever we need fire support. I think that's an excellent idea, I'll speak to her later today." He paused for a moment, and then shifted mental gears. "Were you able to talk to Alto?"

The woman-child snorted inelegantly. "Yes, I talked to the poor boy. He's very torn up about the whole thing, you know."

"Anything I should know?"

Blue ponytails bounced as she shook her head. "Even if there was, I wouldn't tell you. Everything we talked about was in confidence. I suppose you could pull the voice logs…"

"Cathy already did, and password sealed them from me."

Klan grinned. "Serves you right, nosy." Her face grew a little more sober, and she said, "In all seriousness, Commander, he's not having an easy time. He loves both those girls quite a lot. And I don't think that being told that it's his patriotic duty to marry both of them would go over well. I told him to decide what's best for him, and let the girls take it from there, if they need to."

The squadron commander sighed. "I never thought that my subordinates' love lives, that my sister's love life, would be discussed as a matter of colonial policy."

The blunette gave a shrug. "At least you're not responsible for Monica and Captain Wilder."

"Thank God for small favors."

FTPFTPFTPFTP

Sheryl woke up lazily, enjoying the warmth of the bed. She had waited for Ranka to get home, and then had stayed up far too late after inspiration had struck and most of a song had come into her head. She was more than satisfied by the results, from what she could remember, but after a warm shower to relax her cramped muscles (she always ended up writing in the most awkward positions) she only vaguely remembered going to bed. Awareness trickled in and she realized that firstly, she wasn't alone in bed, and secondly, that Alto wasn't the one she was sharing a bed with, unless he had shrunk and had started wearing boy shorts to bed. On the heels of that thought came the realization that she had a firm grip on someone's ass, and that that someone was likely Ranka.

Sliding her hand up, which was only slightly better, as the skin of her bed-partner's back was bare, she raised her head to confirm that yes, the person she was in bed with had vernette hair. Ranka was wearing a pair of white boy shorts and one of Alto's SMS t-shirts (a rather counterculture one that she knew read "SMS hairu! shin wakusei ni iku! kyoumibukai uchuujin ni atte…soshite karera ni korosu!") that had bunched up just underneath the younger girl's breasts. Her own leg was entwined with Ranka's with only the pillow between them keeping them from being in a very intimate and embarrassing position. She drew her hand back and flopped over onto her back carefully, so as not to wake Ranka, and thought. She must have wandered into the bedroom and not realized that Ranka was already sleeping in Alto's bed. She was slightly surprised, but this was the first time in a while that Ranka had been in bed before her, so perhaps she had violated some rule that said that whoever went to bed first got Alto's bed? They had never really discussed sleeping arrangements; in a way, Sheryl was amazed that Ranka was bold enough to share a bed with Alto, but after the first time, they had just sort of gone with the flow. Perhaps they should have had a discussion before now?

On the other hand, why mess up a good thing? It had seemed to work so far, so why change now? Besides, she was Sheryl.

She was also getting cold. Ranka's pillow was a wonderful retainer of warmth, and she was feeling its loss now. That left her with the decision to roll back over and cuddle the pillow (and Ranka), or get up and put some more clothing on. She glanced at the clock, and with a start realized that Alto would be home from patrol soon. Had they really slept that late? She reached over and shook her fellow singer lightly.

"…why won't they grow, Nana-chan, yours are so much bigger…" Sheryl twitched slightly, then gave Ranka another shake.

"…but Sheryl, we're both girls…what would Alto think…" the younger girl muttered, pulling the pillow closer still. Sheryl glared down at Ranka now – what in the world was she dreaming?

Sheryl wasn't going for a third strike, so she got up and pulled on a robe, pulling a blanket over Ranka before leaving the bedroom. She wandered to the kitchen and sighed. She had no desire to make anything to eat, but she was starving. She needed to talk to Ranka and Alto about this. They were all extremely busy, and yet they had to spend time cooking and cleaning and doing laundry. While she had enjoyed the novelty of controlling what she ate, there was a reason that she had catered meals and ate at restaurants while on tour, and it was because she had no time. While a restaurant took time to serve you, business could be conducted during the course of the meal, or she could work on a song (more often than not). It was the same with cleaning and laundry. Alto probably understood to a certain degree from his upbringing, but Ranka was still adjusting to her fame, and both of them had been living middle-class lives for the last several years. Ranka especially had better things to do with her time than worry about dinner. And Alto could be spending his time with one of them. Perhaps it was a bit selfish, but it was true!

Her thoughts lead her to thinking about Alto, and to her conversation with Klan the day before. Sheryl wasn't particularly shocked by the idea, although the fact that staid Frontier was considering polyamorous marriages was a surprise. Galaxy had been a lot more metropolitan, but then, with implants and cybernetics it was possible on Galaxy to change your gender, so traditional ideas were a little further from the mainstream than on Frontier. Having never had a family, at least, none she could remember, Sheryl was a little less concerned with 'right' and 'wrong', and was a little more about keeping the people she loved close. She could admit that she wanted Ranka in her life. She had denied it in the past, and she didn't think she was attracted to girls, at least, not in general, but some part of her was drawn to the cute vernette. She was awake enough now to admit that she hadn't particularly minded waking up cuddling with Ranka Lee, although having Alto in bed with them…

Sheryl blinked a couple of times, and then blushed heavily as a series of very sensual and highly erotic images cascaded through her brain. Then she squawked and dove for the table, dragging one of the scattered notebooks and a pen with her, and began penning some new lyrics. She might not be able to actually USE this particular song, although some of Myung Fang Lone's works as Sharon Apple were probably more sensualized. Still, it was a good idea. She settled down to write, thoughts of food forgotten for the moment.

FTPFTPFTPFTP

Alto returned to the apartment carrying a large bag from Nyan Nyan. It was close enough to lunch time, and he knew that Ranka was exhausted and Sheryl couldn't cook worth a darn. When he walked in, Sheryl was sitting at the table, scribbling like mad, so he took out a pork bun and put it in her free hand. She started to nibble on it absently as she worked through her inspiration, and Alto smiled and just shook his head.

He walked to the bedroom and was unsurprised to see Ranka asleep despite the late hour. The government had been running her ragged, and she was more than a little burnt out. Supposedly she and Sheryl were supposed to be preparing for a series of concerts coming up in a month or so, but unless Ranka was given some free time, there were serious doubts in Alto's mind that she would be ready. Still, if she slept too long she'd feel she wasted the day, so Alto walked over to the bed and softly shook her.

"…mmm, that feels good…oh, Alto…"

Alto twitched a little. Ranka's conscious mind might be easily embarrassed, but he had learned over the past few months that her subconscious was a whole other matter. He had considered recording her unconscious mumblings, but decided that the she might die of embarrassment if she knew half the things she said in her sleep. He sighed. There was always one sure-fire way to wake Ranka up. He leaned down and kissed her, right at the corner of her mouth, and she turned her head into the kiss, wrapping her arms around his neck. The young pilot held out a hand and started counting down, folding a finger in at a time. As he folded his last finger, Ranka's eyes fluttered open. He extended three fingers, and counted down again. As the last finger folded, Ranka broke the kiss and uttered a loud "EHHHHHHHHHH?!?"

Alto stood up and chuckled as Ranka turned red and sputtered futilely, and he walked back to the main room as she tried to regain her composure. Sheryl was watching him as he emerged, and she had her 'honestly amused' smile on, her eyes closed and a serene look on her face.

"Sleeping Beauty, again?" she asked, opening her eyes to catch Alto's nod. "It's so cute that she still gets flustered by it."

"It would be cuter if I didn't hear some of the things she says in her sleep," he replied with a sigh of resignation.

Sheryl nodded. "I was up late working on a song, and didn't realize she was in your bed when I went to sleep. When I got up and found her there and tried to wake her, she made a few comments without waking up once. Something about comparing herself to Nanase, and then something about she and I both being girls…I'm not quite sure I want to know what's going on in her mind when she sleeps."

"Repression?" Alto hazarded a guess.

The rosette shrugged. "Maybe. Although I think the source of her repression is Ozma, not herself."

"Quite true." Alto looked up at nothing for a moment. "The Commander talked to me last night, about the population ratio and the proposed solutions. Did anyone talk to you, or did I get thrown to the wolves?"

"Klan talked to me yesterday. And she said something to Ranka as well."

"Did she tell you the government wants to use us as the models and poster children for their plan?"

Sheryl blinked so hard it was almost audible. "She neglected to mention that aspect of it. Although if I was her, I probably wouldn't have mentioned it either."

"What do you think about it?" Alto's voice was quiet, but she could hear the concern in his voice.

"I think…" she paused for a moment. "I think that you, and I, and Ranka…we need to talk."

FTPFTPFTPFTP

Authors Notes: This thing has stuck with me, almost ten thousand words in a couple of days. If only the rest of my writing went so well.

As I said in my last AN, this is really just me clearing the mental decks. As long as the idea keeps taking hold, I'll keep writing it. I'm actually in the middle of trying to get an original story picked up as a comic, and this falls in between working on that. On the other hand, I'm waiting on my artist at this point, so I have a little free time at the moment.

As for actual story notes, not a lot this time. Oh, except the T-shirt. It says: "Join SMS! Go to new planets! Meet interesting aliens…and kill them!" It's a variant on an old, time-honored military phrase, and for the general population, could be considered rather counter culture.

Oh, and as for the pilots being added to SMS? They aren't important, but if anyone wants to come up with names and reasons for the names, I'd be happy to use them. To be honest, I feel bad for leaving Nene out to dry like that and wanted to find a way to put her back with her Klan-oneesan.

Oh, and I have a one shot that may or may not be viewed as part of the For the People universe, just one little theory on they whys of Klan's micronization problem. It's a bit angsty, but nothing horrible.

Mini-rant: Who comes up with some of the romanizations on wikipedia? Clan Clang? Seriously, WTF? Canaria isn't bad, although I prefer the K. But Clan Clang? It's like screaming yaoi fangirls at anime cons all over again. Its enough to make me want to drink.