Chapter 14

"So, what motivated you two to join the Defense Forces?" David asked Corporals Taylor and Le'Mone, without looking over his shoulder. 

Charles answered without missing a beat. "I've always been fascinated by the SDF-1 and all. I mean, where did it come from? Why did it crash on Earth? What sort of secrets does it hold?" He paused a moment. "I guess it was just a logical step to take." 

Tony spoke up before David had a chance to. "If you were that interested in the technology inside the SDF-1, you could have become a technician or something like that." 

"True..." Charles sighed, "But I figure that they need pilots more than they need techs." 

"Not the way David flies." Tony commented, smiling. 

David shot him a withering glance. "They need _everyone_ Charles. Nobody's useless any more." 

"Whatever you say, boss man." Charles replied cheerily. <He must've learned that one from Tony.> 

"What about you, Taylor? Why'd you join up?" 

She coughed nervously. "Well, uh, its kind of complicated." 

"If it makes you too uncomfortable talking about it, you don't have to." David offered, stopping in front of an elevator. He thumbed a button and turned to the other members of his wing. <My Wing. Dear God, what did I do to deserve this?> 

Lauren looked down at her feet, blushing slightly. "Well, you see, uh...all my life I've wanted to help people. I was studying to be a teacher back on the Island." She shook her head, her hair waving with the movement. "After we got stranded out here in space, and I heard all the recruiters saying how badly military personnel were needed to defend the SDF-1, well, I guess I figured that this would be a better way to help everyone." 

David met Lauren's gaze, a smile playing across his lips. "That's one of the best reasons I can think of." 

Her eyes lightened slightly, and she smiled back. Then her grin turned mischievous. "Besides, I want to prove that I'm as good as any man." 

Tony's eyebrows shot up and he looked at David. "I think she wants your job, boss." 

David chuckled as the elevator dinged and the doors opened. "If all she wants is my job," he looked at Lauren as he stage-whispered, "then she lacks ambition." 

The look on her face was priceless. 

[] 

The elevator moved swiftly, and David allowed himself a small amount of pride. The idea of being a leader was growing on him - slightly. <Me. They chose me to be a Wing leader. Me, the guy whose life was going nowhere. Now I'm going somewhere. I'm important. I matter.> He glanced at his three companions. <I hope to God I don't screw up.> The elevator bumped to a stop. David stepped forward as the doors slid open, and almost ran right into Sergeant Rice. "Oh jeez, pardon me." David sputtered, stepping back. Then he noticed who it was he had almost run into. "Chris! How's it going?" 

"Fine." she replied, smoothing her uniform. "And you?" 

"I can't complain." David motioned for the rest of his wing to step forward. "By the way, congratulations on the promotion." 

She smiled. "Thanks." Her gaze fell on the other members of Gamma Wing. "Who do we have here?" 

David stepped to the side and motioned to the group. "May I present to you the members of Gamma Wing." He shrugged. "They put these guys under my command." 

Chris favored him with an admiring look. "I guess I should be congratulating you, too. OH! By the way, " she reached into her vest pocket and pulled out a small packet of papers. "I'm supposed to deliver these to you." She then pulled out several keys. "These too." 

David took the paperwork and keys. "What's this?" "Billeting assignments. The Commander sent me down to retrieve them." She ran a hand through her hair. "Well, I'd love to stay and chat, but I've got to track down _my_ wing and get ready for this afternoon's ceremony. I'll see you there. Bye!" She turned and walked back the way she came. 

"Enjoy yourself!" David called out, then began paging through the billeting assignments. "Tony, you and Charles got 112B all to yourselves." 

"What about you?" Tony inquired. "I've been reassigned to room 266A. Looks like I get the bechelor's accomodations." David answered. He handed Tony two sheets of paper. "Here's the paperwork to make it official. I'll head back and get my stuff out of there in a little while. I'll leave my key on the bed." He turned to Lauren and handed her a key. "You've got room 136C. I'll walk you over there, okay?" 

"Okay." Lauren smiled at him. "My stuff's supposed to have been delivered to the barracks orderly room. At least, that's what they told us." 

Tony interrupted David's response. "David, would it be okay if I took Charles here on a quick tour of the compound? Shouldn't take too long." David pondered that a moment before answering. "I don't see any problem with it. Just make sure you make it to this afternoon's ceremony. If you two don't show up the Commander'll have my ass on a platter." 

Tony laughed. "You got it, boss." As they disappeared around a corner David heard Tony talking. "I know this wonderful little Chinese restaurant called the 'White Dragon'. You like Chinese?" 

David turned to Lauren. "You ready?" 

"Ready as I'll ever be, I guess." Lauren replied. 

David chuckled. "That'll have to do, then." 

[] 

David sighed tiredly as he walked up to the door of his old room. He had gotten Lauren settled in her new room, which she was sharing with a female Corporal from Red Squadron. <She should be okay there. At least she has someone to talk to now. I wonder what Tony and Charles are up to?> He reached for the door handle, but stopped when he saw that the door was slightly ajar. <They can't have beaten me back here, can they?> He paused for a moment, listening. The normal background noise of the barracks area made it hard to hear, but David could make out the shuffling sounds of someone inside the room. <What the hell is this? One way to find out, I guess.> 

He pushed lightly on the door, and it swung open easily, and quietly. David peered around the corner and saw a youthful-looking woman in a many-pocketed red jumpsuit standing in the middle of the room, her arms hanging down at her sides. Her skin was dark olive in color, and she had long black hair that hung past her shoulders. He also noticed that many items in the room weren't where he remembered them being. <Methinks we've got a snoop here.> 

He quietly stepped up behind her. "You got a problem?" 

The woman answered without turning around. "Yes, but I'm cured now." <Cute voice.> David thought, adopting a neutral expression as the woman turned quickly to face him, motioning to the room around them. "Doctor Livingstone, I presume?" 

David gazed at her for a moment before answering. "Not quite, but this _IS_ my room." <Well, _WAS_ my room.> "And since I don't know you, I think you have some explaining to do." 

The woman opened her mouth, closed it, then opened it again. "My name is Sergeant Tamara Sam'di, and I'm from Supply and Requisitioning. I've got a package here for a David Marshall. The door was unlocked, so I just walked in." David couldn't hide a smile at her rapid-fire prattling. "I'm sorry if I've caus-" 

David raised a hand, silencing her. "I think that's enough for now, Sergeant Sam'di. I'm Sergeant Marshall." 

"You are?" she seemed surprised. He glanced down for a moment. <I'm still in uniform, aren't I?> "I mean, you are. Ah, here you go. Sign here." She handed him a small clipboard. 

David took the clipboard and signed his name in the appropriate box, pausing to glance at the form before handing it back. <A package from the bridge crew? Why would they send me something?> "That all you need?" he inquired, indicating his signature. 

She quickly read over the requisition form. "Yep, that's it." She handed him a small box. "He's your package." 

David took the box and turned it over in his hands. It was small, big enough for a pen, or maybe a calculator. "Hmmm." he murmured to himself, then sat it down on his bunk, beside a small pile of electronic components that he had removed from an old tape recorder. He glanced at Sergeant Sam'di, then allowed his gaze to roam around the room for several moments. <Well, everything's still here, at least.> 

She cleared her throat. "Uh, I just wanted to say that the room looked like this when I entered. I didn't touch anything." 

<Someone's a bit nervous here.> "I never accused you of anything, Sergeant." He smiled. <Let's see if she's the snooping kind.> "Besides, all the valuables are locked up." 

He almost laughed at the expression that flashed across her face. <Yep, she is.> 

She regained control of her facial features quickly. "Well, that's all I came for." Another pained expression. "I mean, well, I've got other deliveries to make." She turned to leave. 

David chuckled. <The day's not a total loss after all. I needed a good laugh.> "I'm sure. Hope you enjoy yourself." He sat down heavily on the bunk and reached for the package. 

"Yeah, right." she mumbled, just loud enough for David to hear. 

He paused in mid-reach. Something about the way she had said it reminded him of an ex-girlfriend, and the way she talked when something was bothering her. His emotions battled briefly, then his natural inclinations took over. "Would you like to talk about it?" he asked softly. 

She turned. "What are you talking about?" 

"Well, something's bothering you." He shrugged. "Talking about it might help. Works for me." 

"I'm sure it does." she said sarcastically, shaking her head. "It's just been one of those days. Everybody's in a bad mood, I can't seem to say the right things, you think I'm a thief, and it's all really beginning to get on my nerves!" She raised her fists towards the ceiling and shook them vigorously. 

He held up his hands defensively. "Whoa! Calm down! _I'm_ not in a bad mood. And I never said you were a thief." He gave her one of Commander Landers' wide-and-innocent smiles. "You shouldn't jump to conclusions." 

She glared at him for a moment, then took a deep breath. "Do they teach that someplace?" 

"Teach what?" 

"That damned smile!" She spat, and David could see her anger rising even more. "First that floozy Izabelle Fate, now you. I hope it's not catching, or I'll kill myself." 

<Izabelle?> David's eyes widened slightly, and he straightened, his smile fading. "Izabelle Fate?" he inquired. 

His change of expression must've been unnerving, because Sergeant Sam'di backed up a half-step. "Yeah. Some floozy down in bay 5b. Nice bod, but she's got no personality." <Must be the same woman. Bay 5B? Wonder where that is?> He forced a smile back onto his face as Sergeant Sam'di kept speaking. "And arrogant! My God! Made me want to punch her lights out!" Her gaze dropped, and David could tell she was calming down a little. "I don't know what Braywater sees in her." 

David nodded his head as his thoughts raced. <Braywater? Who the hell is that? Boyfriend? Hmmmm....this could prove informative.> He looked up at Sergeant Sam'di. "Ah, look. You seem to be a little worn out. Would you care for a drink?" 

She paused a moment, then said slowly, "Maybe...what've you got?" David stood up and walked over to the small refrigerator built into the wall. He pulled open the door. "Well, we've got some...ah..." <What the hell is that? Tony should've thrown that out last week!> "Ice water, milk, orange juice, and beer." 

"Beer!" she blurted. "I mean, beer would be fine." 

David pulled out two bottles. <I must remember to talk to Ensign Matthews again and get more of this stuff.> "Here you go." He waited as she popped the top and took a long swallow. She was obviously enjoying it, and David smiled his most friendly smile. "Now...what is it about this Izabelle person that makes you so mad?" 

[] 

David laid back on the bunk and rubbed his ears. Sergeant Sam'di had been more than willing to talk about Izabelle Fate and the mysterious Lieutenant Thallin Braywater, and David's ears ached from nearly an hours worth of listening. David had picked up many odd bits of information during the conversation. Izabelle and Braywater down in bay 5B. Lieutenant Braywater's level of involvement with the requisitions and supplies for the NightHawks. Commander Landers' reaction to Sergeant Sam'di's offhand question about Izabelle and Braywater being an "item." Even Christina Leeds had been mentioned. David found the fact that her fiancee was aboard the SDF-1 - and a good friend of the Sergeant's - to be both intriguing and unnerving, but wasn't sure why. Still, it might be informative to talk to him. 

Sergeant Sam'di hadn't mentioned her friend Sean's last name, but David felt that he had enough information to find him if he needed to. "Amazing what a nod here and an 'uh-huh' there can accomplish." David muttered as he levered himself upright. He was still bothered by Izabelle Fate being the virtual twin of Christina Leeds. Commander Landers having the picture of Christina at graduation. Vanessa mistaking Izabelle for Christina. Eye color. Hair color. Height. Build. All virtually identical. A thought nagged at the edge of his consciousness, but David couldn't quite place a finger on what it was. <Oh well, there's always time to look into it tomorrow. Right now I've got to get all my stuff moved to my new quarters.> He glanced at himself in the mirror. <And then I've got to starch the crap out of this uniform.> 

[] 

David hummed a happy little ditty as he finished ironing a set of his dress-uniform pants. He stepped back, admiring his handiwork. "Let's see," he muttered to the empty room around him, "what else do we need. AH! I know!" He reached over, grabbed a small spray bottle off the table, and began spritzing the pants liberally with starch. He sat the bottle back down, ran the iron over the pants two more times for good measure, then shut the iron off and sat it to the side. He glanced at the crisply-pressed dress uniform that he had spent the last half-hour ironing, a smile growing on his face. "Now, if that ain't a wrinkle-free uniform, then I'm a monkey's uncle." 

David sighed and looked around the room once again. It wasn't by any stretch of the imagination something that could be called spacious, but what little room there was was used very well. A large desk dominated the wall across from the doorway, and his bed was mounted on the wall above the desk. A single shelf was mounted on the left side of the room, roughly even with the bed, while a computer workstation sat on the right wall, beside the desk. Next to the workstation was a small door that led to an equally small closet. Under the shelf was a tiny white door that opened into a small refrigerator, and a padded chair sat in front of the desk. At least there was room to walk around, barely. 

"Oh well." David mumbled as he folded up the ironing board he had been using. "At least I don't have to share this room." As he shoved the ironing board into its hiding place on the underside of the bed, he noticed the small package that Sergeant Sam'di had delivered to him earlier. <Damn! I forgot all about that thing!> 

David sat down in the chair and peeled off the wrapping around the package, revealing a white cardboard box. He opened the box and saw a rather sporty-looking digital watch there, with a small card tucked underneath it. He picked up the card and read what was written there. "Sergeant Marshall. Thank you for your 'timely' intervention during the Saturn's Rings battle. Sincerely, all of us." There were numerous signatures on the card, and he could make out Captain Gloval's and Vanessa's. 

He smiled one of Commander Landers' wide-and-innocent smiles and sat the card on his desk. Then he picked up the watch and put it on. "Not bad." he whispered, admiring the gold-tone timepiece. Then he laughed. "Now I won't have to worry about buying a watch!" He glanced back at the digital readout. "An hour 'til the ceremony. Well, might as well get ready." 

Forward to Chapter 15. 
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