Chapter 9

"And this is where you two will be bunking." Sergeant Malone said, indicating a largish room filled with bunks. "None of the other squadron members have been in here yet, so you to have your pick of the whole mess." 

David looked around the room, trying to decide where exactly he would like to sleep. He did a quick count, and figured that there were nearly a dozen bunks in the room. He turned to Segeant Malone and asked "Where will you be sleeping, Sergeant?" 

Sergeant Malone looked at him with a satisfied smirk. "I've been assigned to one of the new barracks. One of the priviledges of rank. If you two live long enough, maybe you'll get your own rooms, too." 

David was tempted to point out that he, too, was a Sergeant, but decided against it. "I see." He picked up a pillow and several blankets from a pile near the door and placed them on a bunk in the far left corner of the room - the corner furthest from the doorway. Tony, who had been unusually silent after the brief meeting in Lieutenant Landers' office, placed his blankets and pillow on the bunk next to David's. 

"C'mon, c'mon!" Sergeant Malone shouted from the door. "Hurry it up! You'll have to move faster than that to make it in this man's military!" David sighed and hurried to the door. 

Several hundred signatures later, David and Tony were fully equipped and ready to go. They had returned to the squadron area to drop off the extra uniforms and flight suits, as well as the technical manuals they had been given. David had been slightly dismayed to learn that there were even more classes to be taken, but accepted the idea after Tony had told him, "It's better to have the know-how, and not need it, then to need the know-how, and not have it." In a round-about way, it made sense. 

"C'mon you two!" Sergeant Malone called from the doorway. "Haul ass and let's go! Move move move! Ain't no room for panty-waists in this man's military!" 

<I'm really beginning to dislike this guy.> David realized. 

The elevator door opened to a brilliantly lit hangar bay, and David was temporarily blinded. He could tell from the muttered curses beside him that Tony was having similar problems. He hesitated a moment, then swore under his breath as Sergeant Malone started ranting again. "Marshall! Martuchi! Are you gonna stand in the elevator all day, or are you gonna move your asses and join me out here?" 

"Coming, Sergeant." David called out. <You asshole.> He stepped out of the elevator, Tony right behind him, and the door swished closed behind them. As his eyes rapidly adjusted to the brighter illumination and he got his first actual glimpse of the hangar deck, David whistled silently in awe. The hangar was filled Valkyries, all parked in neat rows. Here and there a team of personnel were working on one of the mecha, staring inside an open hatch here, welding a patch of metal there, poking at some technical gizmo there. 

"Hey, Marshall!" Sergeant Malone called out. "C'mere." 

<Dammit, what does this asshole want now?> David mused as he hurried over to where Malone and Tony were standing. "Yes, Sergeant?" 

Sergeant Malone pulled a small bundle of papers out from one of his jacket pockets. "Take these" he said, handing the papers to David, "and give them to that man over there." He indicated a guy dressed in greasy overalls. "You got it?" 

"Yes Sergeant." David replied. 

"Good." Sergeant Malone said. "Now, I've got some errands to run. I trust you two can find your way back up to the squadron area without me after you get done down here?" 

Tony cleared his throat, the first sound he had made in over an hour. "Ah, didn't the Lieutenant want you to bring us back to the barracks yourself?" 

David moaned inwardly, knowing what was coming. He wasn't disappointed. Sergeant Malone took a step towards Tony, his face turning a deep red color, and he virtually screamed "Do I look like a friggin' babysitter to you, Martuchi!? Well, do I?" Tony winced as a finger was angrily stabbed in his direction. "I've got better things to do than hold you two's hands all damned day! Got it?" 

Tony nodded rapidly. "Yes, Sergeant." 

"Good. And as far as Lieutenant Landers" he literally spat out her name, "is concerned, I could really care less what she says, or thinks. Got it?" 

David stepped forward, placing himself between Sergeant Malone and Tony, and fixed the Sergeant with a steady look. "I'm sure he understands, Sergeant. No need to make a spectacle of yourself in front of all these people." 

Sergeant Malone paled slightly, looking around and noticing for the first time that his screaming had attracted the attention of nearly everyone on the hangar deck. He took a deep breath, then sighed and turned his back to them. "I'll see you back in the squadron." he muttered, and stalked off towards one of the elevators. 

David turned and looked at Tony, who was visibly shaken. "Hey, Tony? You alright?" 

Tony nodded slowly. "I guess so." He stared at the retreating back of Sergeant Malone for a minute before saying, "I'm really beginning to hate him, you know?" 

David glanced over his shoulder as he said, "I know. Me too, Tony. Me too." He held up the bundle of papers Sergeant Malone had given him. "Now, let's go see what kind of planes we got, shall we?" Tony's face seemed to brighten a bit at this, and they both walked over to the man in greasy overalls. "Pardon me, sir?" David asked, coming up behind him. 

The man turned. "Sir? What sir? I'm no sir." He eyed them carefully. "Ain't never been no sir, either." 

"Oh, sorry." David stammered. "I was told to give you these." He held up the papers. 

The man snatched them and rapidly scanned through them. "Ah...yes. Yes, I see. Yes..." His expression soured. "Just as I thought. Damn it all." 

"What?" Tony asked. "What is it?" 

The man looked up, his face serious. "This is bad. These papers here" he waved them in the air "say that I have to turn over two of my brand new Veritechs to you two." His fixed them with a stern gaze, then burst out laughing. 

David shook his head, relaxing. <There's one in every crowd.> 

Tony's face lit up. "Ah, which ones, if I may ask, sir?" 

"Oh, quit with the sir already." the man barked. "My names Tom Charter. I'm the head of maintenance for your squadron. Pleased to meet you." He extended a hand, and both David and Tony shook it. Tony was fidgetting badly now, and Tom must have noticed. "Alright, let's get you guys all set up here before you bust." He grinned broadly and motioned for them to follow him. 

[] 

David threw himself onto his bunk and sighed. He and Tony had been in the hangar for the past four hours, checking out their Veritech VT-1A's. Tony had initially been a little upset that he hadn't gotten a VT-1J, but his disappointment rapidly faded as he looked over the VT-1A that was officially "his." David smiled at the memory of Tony poking his head into every available nook and cranny on the mecha, and asking Tom Charter question after question about the comm system, the reactor drive, the weapons load-out, the thrust-to-mass ratio, and a hundred other things. David's head hurt when he thought about all the technical details he was going to have to learn in the upcoming weeks. <And I thought basic training was bad.> 

David stretched and gave out a loud groan. Luckily, none of the other squadron members were present. Out roaming around the ship, he assumed. <Oh well, I've got other things to do. Speaking of which...> He glanced at the clock hanging on the bunk-room wall. It was nearly time for his appointment with Lieutenant Landers. He wondered what exactly she wanted to know about his part in the battle for Macross Island. "Ah, well. Only one way to know for sure." he muttered, pulling himself upright and climbing slowly to his feet. 

Forward to Chapter 10. 
Back to Chapter 8. 

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