Chavsa was still busy in the hangar, doing maintenance on two recently acquired craft, both the current model issue fighter and then the same prototype procured on Irk for her to try out. The day it arrived in the hangar from a cargo tender absolutely made her day. She was so happy to see it again. So much so she was doing all sorts of preventative maintenance to keep it in top shape. Her dedication to flying showed above all else.
That still left her performance on the ground being something else entirely…
Aren, redressed now long after evening chow that Chavsa wasn't present for, followed by Orkos, entered the hangar, the Sergeant still intent on finding the errant pilot and persuading her ego to change. Orkos himself was fully dressed in a fresh uniform and without his armor.
The Sergeant, cleaned up and a fresh set of fatigues minus her blouse, led Orkos away from the lift into the waiting hangar. A tactical decision to avoid staining the outer layers of her uniform with a certain someone's blood with her suspenders and undershirt visible. Clearly, she was on a mission and would not be denied this time.
"Whatever she does short of trying to kill me, stay out of it." Aren pointedly spoke over her shoulder toward her superior.
"Will do." Orkos nodded, "It's your fight, I just need to not explain one of your corpses to the Commander."
She nodded, mentally preparing for what was likely inevitable as the pair moved past the various storage containers into the open deck where their crafts resided. Chavsa, enamored with the prototype fighter they managed to acquisition, oblivious to their approach.
Rather than be underhanded about it, Aren stopped short behind the shorter Private. Both palms grabbed a handful of flightsuit about the pilot's shoulders and flung her back and away from the craft, forcing her to look at her immediate superior.
Her livid immediate superior.
"You weren't at evening mess. Where have you been?"
Chavsa rolled across the deck, her wrench flying out of her hand. She rose to her feet after grabbing the fallen tool. Any apology she was thinking of giving after talking to the Commander immediately went out the window. She pointed to the fighter, up on a pair of jacks as she'd taken off the front landing gear for an inspection. She didn't even say a word, but she was busy working at something productive, at least as she saw it.
"I asked you a question, Private. Answer me." Aren demanded of her, mocking her gesture. "What's this mean? You took your plane apart? Who authorized you to do that? The Lieutenant didn't and I sure as Irk didn't."
"Maintaining the fighters falls under my responsibility." Chavsa glared daggers at her. "Especially that one you so rudely threw me aside from. I'm very intimately fond of that fighter since it's the only reason I'm even standing here. Unless you suddenly hate productive work now."
Chavsa danced upon the rawest of nerves. Aren struggled to maintain her composure as her temper neared the boiling point. The urge to lash out and make her disapproval of such known was strong, but resisted. For now.
"The only reason you're standing here is I've allowed it…and you are dangerously close to me revoking that with your smart mouth and attitude problem."
Chavsa's attention shifted to Orkos, "You know what, Lieutenant? Go tell the Commander I can't do this."
"Whoa, whoa, this is between you two." Orkos tried to stay out of the situation.
The Sergeant unkindly prodded Chavsa with a sharp shove to get her attention once more.
"Don't worry about him, worry about me. You don't get to make demands of your commanding officers. You don't get to make demands of me. You will do what I say, Private. Full stop."
All I ever wanted to do was fly fighters…
Chavsa was torn in the moment, smack Aren with the wrench, which she really wanted to do, and it might cost her everything, or walk away, and it probably would still cost her everything. What did it even matter anymore?
"You know what? If you hate me so much, forget beating the tar out of me, go ahead and just shoot me. I don't care anymore." She just laid it out. "I can't fucking stand you. I don't do authority well. All I ever wanted to do was fly a damn fighter. If I can't even do that then what's the point? It's clear we're not going to get along. Commander even told me I should apologize to you and right now, I really don't fucking want to."
Aren didn't miss Chavsa's tense posture, quivering with restraint. She wanted to take a swing on her superior. The Private's words elicited a humorless huff and smirk from the Sergeant.
"Hate? I don't hate you, Chavsa. Hate takes time and energy, both of which you aren't deserving of. Being a pilot is secondary to what we do. You need to be reliable. I can't rely on you, you're dead weight to me and the rest of the team. You will get us killed with how you're acting now and I'm sick of it. You're stuck with us and I'm stuck with you. Deal with it."
Restraint…she was still trying real hard to not hit her. The pilot's blood was still absolutely boiling. What else could she do? Run? No, she wasn't about to. But she still couldn't find any way to deal with this outside of some violence.
"Yeah and I bet you don't want to deal with me anymore so how about you just cut me loose and do yourself a favor?"
"Cut you loose?" Aren laughed. "You forget where you're at? Who you're working with now? You do what Orkos or anyone else tells you to do, but not me. All I want out of you is to cut the crap and listen to what you're told. I never let any of my guys in the Irken Elite talk to me the way you do and I'm not going to allow it now, especially from some smart-mouthed Armada stick jockey."
"You got somethin' to say about the Armada you dirt eater?"
Criteria met. Patience lost. One moment Chavsa was growing ever-increasingly tense with Aren. The next she was looking at the metal grating of the deck on her hands and knees with the taste of blood in her mouth.
Aren, standing over her, shook out her right hand from the stinging wrath of a solid impact.
"Get up." She demanded before unkindly planting the sole of her boot against her shoulder and shoving her down. "I said GET UP!"
Where was it? Near enough. May have fallen out of her hand but not far. Once more in her hand, the wrench was back in hand and flying towards Aren's shin of her opposite leg. Intent on getting the Sergeant off of her so she can make a break for some bigger tool. The dirt eater wanted a fight? She'd have one, and a dirty one. Only unfair fight was the one you lost as her flight instructors taught her.
If the heated exchange of words hadn't garnered enough attention, the solid right hand throw by Aren to level Chavsa definitely held the floor as Aero, Vard, and Jur stopped what they were doing to rush to the scene. Vard attempted to intervene out of the three, only to be yanked back by Aero to the sidelines.
"Wh- We can't-"
"No, no, let'em," She casually spoke as Chavsa's wrench smashed into Aren's shin with a cry of pain. "Been wondering when this was gonna happen."
Aren, livid now at the stabbing, sharp pain across her shin, pounced on the Private with the intent to disarm her. Struggle as she may, the Sergeant managed to wretch it free of her grasp, throwing it across the deck towards Orkos.
"Stand up or I'm kickin' your teeth in!" She threatened, intentionally placing herself between Chavsa and her toolbox. "You wanna run your mouth? Back it up or you going to take flight like the COWARD you are?!"
Chavsa stood up, but she was already trying to formulate a way to get to a claw hammer, seeing Orkos' boot on the wrench before she got up.
The Private's frantic searching did not go unmissed. She was looking for another weapon. Another potentially deadly implement to use against her Sergeant. Aero leaned down, whispering to Vard to take action and move to secure her toolbox before she got anymore bright ideas.
Deris, having heard the commotion and yelling, jogged up to a stop beside Orkos. Sergeant Aren and Chavsa were…fighting?
"Lieutenant, we have to stop them before someone gets hurt!"
"Only if guns come out." Orkos dryly replied.
"Anything deadly, really." Aero concurred, watching as Chavsa played keep-away from Aren briefly. "Well, you aren't gonna win doing that."
"That's all you are, isn't it?" Aren goaded. "A coward? Talk the talk but when your mouth wrote a check your c'hurta can't cash? Run. Hide. Instigate. Come on, I know you wanna take a swing on me. I saw it. You got hands and feet, use them!"
"Swing? No…the way you are, and the way you even talk to me, I want you gone, lady." One way or another? She wasn't about to upset the Commander, costing him two people with something she did. She had too much respect for him. She made a dash for a shuttle instead, intent on locking herself inside before she did anything insane.
Jur threw up his hands. "This is the worst fight I've seen in ages. Not even worth taking a bet on."
Her attempt at escape was short-lived. As she neared the closest shuttle, the last person she wanted to see in that moment came around the corner of shipping containers. Vult himself, with Corr and Haxx in tow. Literally every officer aboard. Chavsa's flightsuit was ensnared by his artificial hand, halting her in her tracks as he pulled her back before him while Haxx moved to intercept Aren before she reached her quarry.
"What…is going on…down here?" He uttered in calm fury, his other hand holding his mug of brewed bean water.
Orkos blinked, looking right at Aren, but before she could even utter a word, it was Chavsa, blood coming from her mouth from Aren's punch earlier, that answered first.
"...Commander, I ask that you just shoot me in the face now and get it over with. I don't believe there's any way Aren and I can get along and I don't want to drag the rest of them down."
Even amidst her morbid plea, Haxx struggled to restrain Aren. Enlisting extra helping hands was a smart call by the appearance of things.
"Aren!" Vult barked, immediately bringing her to a stop, huffing. "...enough. At-ease."
Grinding her teeth in roilng fury, she did so, Haxx hesitantly relinquishing control as he stepped back to the side. Once he was convinced Aren wasn't going to have a go at Chavsa again, the Commander's hand released the Private's flightsuit.
"Now…one of you and only one of you…what is going on?"
Chavsa sighed. "I was down here working on the prototype. There was a sensor error in the landing gear so I was trying to see what was wrong. Didn't even get food, I'm just trying to get this solved. Aren-"
"Sergeant Aren." Vult interrupted, a not-so-subtle reminder of their earlier discussion.
"...The Sergeant hurled me away from my work. I was also trying to think of an apology all day since we had our talk but…this just threw all of that out the window. I just firmly believe I can't work with her and since I'm the less useful of the team, just go ahead and do what you have to do. Like you said, you don't need a fighter pilot."
Vult did not immediately answer, instead his attention drifted to the disgruntled Sergeant.
"Is this true? What she's saying?"
"Yes, Commander."
"Why did you lay your hands on your subordinate outside of training, Sergeant?"
"The Private has felt it prudent to be obstinate and insubordinate at every imaginable opportunity presented whenever being issued orders by myself, Sir."
"That justifies this?" He countered, wiping the trail of blood running down Chavsa's face to show Aren.
"The Private felt it prudent to be incredibly disrespectful to the point requiring repri-"
"This isn't a tribunal, Aren. Out with it. Plain and simple." Vult interrupted sternly.
A deep breath from the Sergeant followed as she carefully chose her words.
"Chavsa's insolence and smartass comments have run their course. She has been warned. Many times. I no longer have the patience for it, Sir."
Vult studied her momentarily before speaking again.
"Orkos. Front and center."
Orkos nearly tripped on the wrench at first but he made his way over to Vult's side. "Yes, Commander?"
"Your second telling the truth?"
"She is, sir. She also commented earlier in the simulator that she didn't want to be spoiled having a functioning team without Chavsa present."
"Not what I was referring to." Vult clarified. "I only witnessed a brief exchange. The insolence and insubordination. Is Aren exaggerating?"
"She isn't, sir. The pilot listens to me and Skrem, but nothing from the Sergeant. But…we also haven't seen her since she stormed out of the simulator until now, Commander. I also had no idea you two had a conversation."
The Commander, livid, but reserved, turned his attention back to Chavsa.
"I am going to ask you this once…did you instigate this?"
"...No, Commander. The Sergeant threw me first, I didn't retaliate. Words were exchanged. She made a comment about the Armada. I said if she had something to say about the Armada…and…called her a dirt eater…and then she punched….oh."
"That is called instigation, Chavsa." Vult pointedly spoke, looking between them. "...but I will not tolerate this behavior from either of you. I don't need to remind you what's at stake here and how much I rely on all of you to see it through."
"Comma-" Aren attempted to defend herself.
"Do NOT speak while I am talking, Sergeant."
"Yes, Sir, sorry, Sir."
"...now…Chavsa…why should I protect you or come to your aid when you're the one starting it? Remember what I told you earlier if the Captain ever talked to me the way you talked to her?"
The pilot remained quiet at first, only hanging her head in a silent admission of defeat. "...Just throw me out the airlock or shoot me or whatever it is you do with a failure, Commander. I can only take so much from someone."
"Orkos?" Vult beckoned, garnering his attention. "Aren have a problem with anyone else on Green Team? Anyone else have similar complaints?"
"No, Commander, nobody's even come to me with any issues from her." The Lieutenant replied, looking at the pilot, looking more and more forlorn as the conversation continued.
All he needed to hear. Vult, pausing, sampling his coffee before speaking again.
"All three of you, conference room. Now."
Orkos and Aren were the first to leave, Orkos putting a reassuring arm around his second in command. Chavsa, feeling increasingly isolated, squelching the fire in her, practically dragged herself to the conference room, sitting as far away as she could from Aren when she got there. Vult and Corr followed closely behind the trio after making everyone else get back to work. The door locked behind them for privacy.
"Okay…whatever this is ends today." He began, looking to the three of them. "Normally, I'd just let you beat the snot out of each other to learn a lesson but I am going to give both of you the opportunity to be civilized about it. Orkos is here as Green Team's leader and testify to the authenticity of your words. Both of you are going to air out your grievances and we are going to fix this. Either of you stand up to go after the other, so help me Irk, I will personally put you on the floor myself. Am I understood?"
"Yes, Commander." Aren obeyed, side-eyeing Chavsa briefly.
The pilot just quietly nodded in affirmation, her spirits still well and truly down.
"Chavsa, elaborate to me why you feel the way you do about your immediate superior."
The pilot tried to find some reason that didn't sound incredibly petty, but she couldn't. "...It's stupid, Commander…I…just…" She paused, "...I can't word it right. I'm…useless on the ground. Only thing I can manage to do is not crumple like Deris. Just…never once treated right. My flight instructors never had it out for me like this…but maybe it's justified. I'm just some useless stick user."
Vult nodded, allowing her to speak as he drank from his mug, gesturing to Aren.
"Your turn, Sergeant."
"My duties, my job, is to keep everyone alive. Lieutenant Orkos hands orders down, I execute them with what is at my disposal. That includes the personnel beneath my command. My expectation is that whatever those orders are, they are followed without question. Questioned orders and defiance doesn't instill confidence in command. The field is not the place I want to have debates over how to proceed."
A long intake of breath and weary sigh.
"...on a more personal note…I do not have it out for her. I do not target her. I have the same expectations of her as I do Lorlo, Deris, and even Skrem on a technicality. The three of them seem to function fine beneath my command. We have our faults and are working towards self-improvement…but I cannot help someone improve if they are not willing to improve or even listen. This is where my frustration comes from and it has reached a boiling point."
"Which is why you struck her."
"Yes, Sir."
"Anything else to add?"
"No, Sir."
"Chavsa? Your rebuttal."
"...After I got thrown away from the fighter earlier and before the exchange of tenser words followed in the hangar…I asked the Lieutenant if he could go to you and get me off the team." The pilot sighed. "I'm a detriment to the team. I heard Deris bragging to Aero and Vard earlier about how things went so smoothly in their last simulator run. If I can't shoot straight…if I can't do anything you ground types can then what good am I to you? I just threw myself deeper into what I was doing before this happened…and I'm really feeling I don't belong here. All they ever taught us was escape and evade if we bailed out and had to parachute somewhere."
"You're not even trying."
"Don't talk to her, talk to me." Vult interjected.
"...She isn't even trying, Sir. Instead of dropping the ego, she doubles-down on what she's good at and shoves everything else away. I cannot teach someone anything if they have an ego. It's taken a step further when I am outright disrespected in front of the others and when my orders are disobeyed."
Chavsa wanted to argue her training as a pilot needed her to make snap decisions outside of any command structure. Why she was set for a commission as a Sublieutenant after flight school. Her mood was so lowered to the point she just buried her face in her hands and went quiet. Out of her element, out of place, and feeling like she let the Commander down.
Orkos looked between her and Aren. He thought of speaking on the team's performance without her. Then an idea hit him. "...Commander, I have a theory."
"Let's hear it." Vult gestured, now beginning to understand Skrem's complaints and suffering quite clearly.
"...Flight school attendees are usually commissioned officers upon their completion, right? Chavsa effectively passed it before her disciplinary record got the better of her. She had everything drilled into her about being a flight officer and it was denied. Not to step on Aren's toes, and I really like her and appreciate her being my second, but I think there's a disconnect, on Chavsa's side. I know she's feisty, I read pilots make decisions on their own in the skies as they need to in combat. Is there some role on the ground we can give her that more closely emulates that? Something to be more akin to what she knows? Otherwise…our team needs a working member, not a fighter pilot."
The Lieutenant sighed after letting out his theory. "Aren, are there any redeeming qualities to her that you see?"
The urge to be heartless and cruel in that moment tempted the Sergeant, but quickly subsided. Differences aside, squabbling and personal scores unsettled didn't benefit any of them. Doubly so with the daunting tasks that lay ahead of them in the near future.
"...She's got fire in her."
"Fire?" Vult queried, confused.
"Yes, Sir. Fire. A defiant fire, but fire nonetheless." Aren acknowledged. "Potential to be daring and fearless if disciplined sort of fire. I know she does it in a cockpit no problem whatsoever. I need her to do it with boots on the ground and rifle in hand alongside us."
"Chavsa, you said you had a conversation with the Commander?" Orkos asked.
"...I did."
"Were you planning on making an effort to improve?"
"I was…I even spent my time working trying to think of how I could somehow apologize but what happened in the hangar drove it out of my mind." She sighed, shaking her head.
Orkos looked back at Aren, "You think we can salvage her or is she going to be too much of a detriment to us? Skrem's good, I'd almost say he's worth two with his experience, but an even squad would be nice."
The Sergeant didn't respond to Orkos. Rather, her yellow eyes drifted to Chavsa, studying her expression briefly before speaking.
"That is up to her to decide. My job is to see her succeed. Whether she wants to is entirely up to her…but for that to work, you have to follow my orders. I will never tell you to do something I wouldn't do myself. I don't lead like that."
"Agreed," Vult nodded, looking to the Private himself. "...I know you're sour about what happened in the hangar, but the choice is yours. Keep your ego in check, do as Aren says, and learn instead of getting defensive and obstinate…or I'll have to figure something else out for you with a wrench thrown in our gears."
Aren gave a bemused huff, shrugging.
"She can have a freebie on me if it'll make her feel better, Commander."
"And before you get any bright ideas, if you think what the Commander's going to do for you is going to involve doing what you want to do, think twice." Orkos added in. "Unlike what I understand about that sniper Lieutenant, you don't have the currency with these guys or the results to bargain with. Your life will probably be miserable."
The offer to punch Aren didn't manage to lift her mood in the least. Quiet, unsure of herself, sullen. Failure wasn't an unfamiliar taste to her but this was far more sour than before. This stung harder.
A lack of a response from her caused Orkos to shake his head. A disappointed look on his face. Aren's temper flared ever-so-slightly with a bang of her fist on the conference table.
"Damn it, Chavsa, I want to help you! I can't if you don't want to help yourself! I'd recommend the Commander do whatever he needs to do to get you off of Green Team if I didn't want to. You came in with us and got the same treatment! Want this as much as we want this! Please!"
"And what else was I supposed to do?!" She looked up, teary eyed. "Just say no on Devastis and take my chances with the Control Brains?! Let Sula put a plasma bolt in my head in front of everyone?! I didn't want to die!" A pause followed as she went quiet, "I hate the Empire now more than ever but I'm worried I made a mistake."
"...So she does feel fear." Orkos rubbed his chin. "Could've fooled me."
Vult sighed, leaning against the table in contemplation. One of his own was having a crisis of morale, struggling to cope with the world their eyes had been opened to. They all adapted differently in their own little ways. All of them learning as they went, fumbling in the dark of uncharted territory.
"I'm afraid, too, you know." Vult admitted, looking to Chavsa as she wiped her eyes. "Ask Orkos and Aren and they'll tell you the same thing. There isn't a single person aboard this ship that isn't afraid of what lays ahead…or even the next deployment, for that matter…"
He mulled over his next words after having her attention proper.
"...fear is like that enemy ace on your six'o'clock. You can't shake him. Non-stop missile lock. Can't outrun him. No terrain to use to your advantage…do you accept your fate or are you throwing the air brakes on and vectoring around to give him what-for? Let him know that you're going out with a bang if that's how it's going to be?"
"...Be like in that canyon on Devastis. Throw a missile into the wall. It takes us both out, at least I'm taking him with me, but I'll have him."
"Right. Who knows? You may beat him to the trigger, send one his way before he does. Won't know unless you take your shot. Only way to find out if you take your chances. Same applies here. I know you're a pilot but I also know you're capable of much, much more. You think I would have put up with your garbage this long if I didn't believe that?"
She took a breath, wiping away some more tears. "...All right…I can try. Need to find something I'm good at. I can't shoot with that rifle I was issued. It's rather demoralizing."
"You were probably awful in the flight simulator your first week in training." Vult countered, reminding her they all started somewhere. "First step to becoming great at something is to be awful at it and keep doing it until you're not. I know Aren is capable of making a competent, worthy soldier out of you if you trust her and do as she says. Use this as fuel to persevere and prove to yourself that you can and will do this. I expect you to. Are you going to meet my expectations, Private?"
"...If I can make it into the top echelon of my class I guess I can manage it." The fire was reigniting, slowly, surely.
"There it is." Orkos cracked a slight smile.
"...All right, I'll try. If we can find some way to…peacefully talk, I think we can do this."
"The only reason I yell at you is because I care and know you can do better, Chavsa." Aren wistfully smirked. "...I have been harsh lately because of my frustrations with you…you give me 100%, I'll tone it down. Agreed?"
"Beyond fair if you ask me," Vult shrugged, curious to what the Private's response would be. "Ask Haxx the next time you see him what he got made to do when he made any of us angry."
"Yeah…yeah all right." What did Haxx do? Radec said he was made to run, a lot…running sucks. "I'd rather not be run until I puke if that's what I hear that Haxx is doing to Radec. I hate running."
"An incentive to not step out of line if I've ever heard one then." Vult reasoned, casting a knowing look to Orkos and Aren. "Speaking of, Lieutenant? Anytime Chavsa steps out of line, regardless of which one of you she's disobeying, I expect you to lay down the law. Your Sergeant supports your authority and leadership, support hers."
"Of course, Commander. Hear that Chavsa? You bark at Aren or the others like that again, it's going to take the team of two surgeons six hours to get my boot out of your c'hurta."
"Can you not destroy what physical assets I have? I need that to sit."
"Nope."
"All the more reason to not go out of your way to be a pain." Vult reasoned, gesturing between the two parties. "Are we good here? Whatever was going on before entering this room will be done and over with when you leave it. I won't be so nice about it next time."
"No complaints here, Commander. She sticks to her word here, we'll get along like two smeets in a pod." Aren assured, looking to Orkos. "Lieutenant?"
"Yeah, no problem if she sticks to it. But she needs to open up. Seems like she opened up to the Commander but not us. I think if you both improve with each other to where she will, I think it can work." Orkos nodded. "I mean, you two share a room. You're closer to hear her out than I am physically speaking."
"Very true." Vult acknowledged with a pointed gesture to Orkos before turning back to the Private. "Well? Your immediate superiors are willing to give you another chance. Are you going to give them one as well?"
Chavsa nodded. "I'll try…the tone recently was getting to me more and more but…we both try I think this can work. Right?" She looked at Aren.
"Right." She assured her. "Things go smoother when you don't try to swim up current. Speak less, listen more. We'll get there. Be patient."
"Glad to hear it." Vult nodded, standing upright. "Like I said, you three leave this room, it's done. No more. I even catch a whisper of a rumor of you two being at each others throats again, you will not like me. Understood?"
"Yes, Sir. Understood."
"Clear as mud." Chavsa added.
"That's a relief. Now you two kiss and make up or whatever it is you women do to resolve spats." Orkos added, getting a weird look from the pilot and a shrug.
"As you were, dismissed." The Commander waved off, unlocking the conference room door from the terminal on the table.
Chavsa was quick to get up and go. She wanted to get back to the hangar and finish what she was working on. Growling spooch or not she just about fixed that problem just before all this started. Orkos watched her go, leaving and putting an arm around Aren's waist as they left.
"...That oddly went better than I anticipated."
Guiltily as she enjoyed the affection, her palms quickly swatted away his arm from her person as she quickly looked around.
"Orkos…" She warned semi-seriously in a hushed hiss. "Not in the open…"
His voice lowered, "Did you see how Hesa is with the Commander? I'm certain they're doing the same."
"Even if they are, being in charge of everything and everyone tends to have it's own perks." She countered with a bemused huff. "Look…our dysfunctional band of idiots have a pile of problems as it is. Last thing we need are rumors abound of you playing favorites with me…even if they're true." Aren concluded with a small smirk at their own expense.
He smirked at her. "Only playing favorites because I know you got my back, and I'll have yours…just in more ways now than before." He teased, getting a jab to his waist in return, causing him to chuckle. "Really if she turns around that'll be a massive improvement."
"One can only hope. Sooner she behaves and starts pulling her own weight, sooner one of us may earn one of those open berths." The Sergeant insinuated with a smirk. "How's that for motivation to straighten her out?"
"If it'd go to anyone between the two of you, it'd probably be you first…just long enough for me to wiggle my way in there though." Another smirk from Orkos, another jab to the waist. "...Okay maybe I deserved that one. But what can I say? Maybe I like you a great deal, deep down maybe she likes you too, she just doesn't know it yet. Besides, her looks and skill in the cockpit are only going to get her so far."
"We're going to fix that. Together…or die trying."
"You jump, I jump, to wherever this takes us."