Chapter 16The White Dragon was inundated with military personnel. Not a single soul in the place, aside from the Dragon's staff, was a civilian. Nearly every squadron on the ship had pilots there, and there were several low-ranking staff officers present as well. David, Tony, and Chris were seated at a small table near the kitchen. Each had a tall glass of beer before them, but David and Tony's were relatively untouched. Chris took a swallow from her glass and sighed. "I could get used to this sort of thing, you know?" Tony smiled and looked around. "I know. I wonder if there are parties like this every night?" "I doubt it, Tony." David replied, picking up his glass and taking a swallow. "Besides, some of those guys are on patrol in the morning." "So?" Tony asked good-naturedly. "Aren't we allowed to have a little fun?" David shrugged. "It's just that I wouldn't want to be here if any of the higher ups get wind of this little shin-dig." "Don't be such a stick in the mud, David." Chris mumbled into her now-empty glass. "Hey, waitress!" she shouted. "I need a refill." David leaned back and closed his eyes. "Stick in the mud? I'm no stick in the mud." "Then why do you still have a half-full glass?" Chris asked playfully, pointing to his beer. "It's not half-full, it's half-empty." David smiled at her. "Besides, I'm having more fun watching you get drunk, that's why." "Well, then maybe I'll just walk over thatta way and let you get your jollies all by yourself." She stood up shakily and winked at Tony. "Coming, dear?" Tony's eyes widened. "Sure!" "Dear?" David asked, regarding them both with a questioning look. "I never argue with a lady, boss." Tony shrugged, then followed Chris towards the bar. David chuckled to himself and took another long swallow from his glass, draining it. He was light-headed to a small degree, but his movements and thoughts were unaffected, as far as he could tell. <Ah, just right.> He picked up his glass. <Ah, what the hell, maybe I _should_ get drop-dead drunk tonight. Gonna be a long time before I get the chance again.> He pushed his chair out and stood up. "David!" a female voice called out, loud enough to cut through the roar of the crowd. David looked around, then spotted Tamara Sam'di standing near the bar with some blue-haired woman. Tamara was moving to some unheard music, writhing and wiggling and posturing in a very seductive manner. <Whoa! What the hell is this?> He glanced down at his empty beer glass. <Maybe I'm further along than I thought.> Tamara was working her way in David's direction, her body contorting in every possible manner, each movement accenting her breasts, her hips, her legs, her arms. Interspaced among these were several "come here" motions. David's eyebrows arched and whistled silently. <Oh, dear.> By this time the crowd had begun to notice Tamara's gyrations, and were beginning to hoot and holler in time to her movements. The cheering of the crowd seemed to rile her up even more, and her movements became even more sultry. <Someone seems to be a bit drunk, I do believe.> David thought, briefly wondering if a strategic withdrawl was appropriate. Before he could decide, though, she was right in front of him, thrusting her breasts at him, gyrating her hips, pursing her lips. He offered he a slight smile, his nose picking up the not-so-subtle smell of alcohol and perfume wafting off of her. "Is it getting hot in here or is it you?" "It's me." she mumbled. Then, without warning, she stepped forward, wrapped her arms around him, and kissed him hard on the lips. <WHOA!> David's knees almost buckled, and his ears ached at the sudden increase in noise from the crowd around them. Tamara's kiss turned passionate, her hands pulling him closer, her body pressing against his. <Oh, what the hell.> he thought, and allowed himself to be swept up in the moment. He put his arms around her and pulled her even closer. She moved against him, and he against her, both of them moaning softly. The crowd was cheering even louder, a continuous roar that drowned out everything else. After what seemed to be an eternity, Tamara broke the embrace and stepped back. David stumbled backwards, but someone caught him before he fell. "Hey! Wait... er...," David stammered, his voice not quite working properly, as he reached out for her. Tamara staggered backwards several steps, then caught herself, looking over his shoulder, her expression suddenly changing. She wasn't the only one. <Uh oh.> David slowly turned around and saw Commander Landers standing there, hands on her hips, eyes flashing in the light. He felt a blush come to his face as he stammered, "Ah... Hi, ah, Sir. Er..." <I think I'm in trouble...> "Can it, Sergeant," she spat, fixing him with a glare that would've frozen water. Her gaze drifted to the crowd around them, the NightHawks' pilots unable to meet her unwavering gaze, the rest staring angrily. "Alright then, Sergeant... er, Tamara. Is that your name? I think you may be getting yourself into a bit more trouble here than you might want." Tamara looked down at her feet, smoothing out her clothes as she did so. "I think it's time you go sleep off some of that alcohol, eh?" Tamara shrugged."Right. Can you remember where your quarters are?" Tamara nodded. "Good." The Commander turned and pointed to Haroun and Bjorn, and several more pilots behind them. "You guys take her back to her quarters. Make sure she gets there in one piece and stays there 'til she's sober. You okay with that?" The whole group nodded quickly, each of them showing the exact same grin. The Commander sighed. "Whatever. Just do it." That said, she turned to face David, who shuffled nervously under her gaze. <Aw, c'mon. We're off duty. I don't have to be back on duty 'til the day after tomorrow.> he silently pleaded, hoping the Commander could read thoughts. Apparently not, for her gaze didn't waver. She stared at him for what seemed like forever, then turned back to face the rest of the crowd. "Exit, stage left." David muttered, quickly working his way towards the rear entrance. He motioned towards Tony, who was hiding beside some huge guy from Green Squadron. Tony nodded and slid out from his hiding place. David could hear the Commander ranthing about patrol duty, headaches, and such. <Man, I wonder what's got her in such a foul mood?> Tony appeared next to him. "I suggest we execise some common sense and go for the discreet withdrawl." " Hell with that." Chris Rice said, poking her head in between them. Her words were slurred badly. "Let's haul ass!" The three of them quickly headed for the door, along with several other pilots, most from the NightHawks. David glanced back just as they reached the door, and saw Commander Landers looking in their direction, her expression showing something akin to concern. <Oh well...I wonder where Tamara went?>
Once outside, the three of them went their separate ways. Tony had "volunteered" to escort Chris back to her room, and David had to get to the park in time to meet with Vanessa. Before he left, Tony handed David a tiny little battery-powered razor, saying "You don't want to have a scratchy face for your date, now do you?" As he hustled down the mostly-deserted streets of downtown Macross, running the tiny razor over his chin, David couldn't help but think about Tamara. While he was still suffering delayed effects from their passionate interlude, most of what he was feeling was guilt. Guilt over having gotten her drunk in order to get information about Izabelle Fate. <Maybe she would have told me without the booze. Maybe.> The park was far from deserted, with couples strolling slowly in all directions. David walked up to the fountain, which had been beautifully lit for night-time viewing. As he walked up to it, he became aware of someone sobbing. He looked around and spotted Vanessa, sitting alone on one of the nearby benches, her head in her hands. He sighed and walked over to her. "Vanessa? Mind if I sit down?" he asked softly. She looked up at him with tear-streaked eyes. "David? Sure..." She slid over and David sat beside her. "I'm sorry if I made you miss your party." "Hey, there's no need to apologize. I'd do anything to help a friend." He pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and handed it to her. "I think I ought to buy stock in a hanky factory, though." She laughed, a little, as she dabbed at her eyes with the hanky. After a few moments of awkward silence, she turned to face him. "David, who is that damned woman who looks so much like my sister?" <I should have guessed.> David cleared his throat. "Uh... her name is Izabelle Fate, and she's a Lieutenant in the NightHawks. Black Squadron, I mean." Vanessa sighed. "Every time I see her I keep thinking about my sister. And I see her all over the damned ship! It's driving me crazy!" She shook her head slowly. "Even with the new hair color, I know who she is. I know who she _looks_ like." David nodded. "I know. But there has to be a reasonable explaination. I mean, everyone has somebody out there who resembles them." She frowned, deep in thought. "What are the odds of a lookalike for my sister being on this ship? Of being a pilot? Of being such an _EXACT_ duplicate?" David thought about that for a minute. "Pretty low, I'd say." He shrugged. "I've never met your sister, in person that is, so I really have no basis for comparison between them. They look alike, but that could just be coincidence." <Why don't I believe that?> Vanessa shook her head, her hair whipping around as she did so. "It's just so crazy. Every time I think I've gotten over Christina's death, I see that woman, Izabelle, and the memories come back." She looked up at him. "And here I am lumping all my problems on you." David smiled. "Hey, what are friends for? Besides, I can't stand to see a pretty woman cry." He reached out and wiped a tear off of her cheek. "And I have a stake in this too, I guess." She nodded slowly. "I know. I read the reports." She shifted uncomfortably. "David... Christina, did she...I mean, when she d-" She choked back a sob. She turned to look at him. "You were the first to find her... did she...?" David guessed the rest of the question. "I don't think she suffered. There was a... serenity about her, for lack of a better word. I don't know what she felt, or what she thought, but it looked like she was at peace when she... well, you know." Vanessa stared at the ground for several minutes, silently, and David didn't interrupt her thoughts. Slowly, her head came up and she turned to face him. Her eyes were damp, but there was a small smile on her lips. "Thank you." she said simply. David nodded. "It was the least I could do for you." It was as if a great weight had been removed from her shoulders. Her eyes twinkled in the pale light. "Thanks. Nice watch, by the way." David nodded, looking down at his wrist. "I know. Got it this morning, actually. No note with it, though. Must have been one of my ex-girlfriends or something." He looked at Vanessa, his expression serious. "I'll have to try and track her down to thank her." "You idiot!" she blurted, laughing. "You know damned well who that was from!" He laughed in return, glad that her spirits had risen. "I know, I know. Thank you very much." "It was my idea. The watch, I mean." She shrugged. "Lisa and the others just wanted to give you a plaque or something. The watch was my idea, seeing as how you never seemed to know what time it was." She sat back and looked into the fountain. "So, what made you decide to join the Defense Forces?" David thought for a moment before answering. "Well, it's a long story..." She glanced at him. "We have all night." They talked for a long time, discussing their interests, their hobbies, their dreams. More and more David found himself liking this young woman who was so determined to succeed, who could be so calm while her world was in turmoil. Eventually, as it is with all things, their meeting had to come to an end, but not before she had made him promise to meet her and her friends at the Bamboo House the next night.
[] David was walking back to the barracks, wondering what had possessed him to agree to go to a disco, when he heard a familiar (if slurred) voice off to his right. He turned and saw Commander Landers staggering through the park, muttering to herself. <What the hell?> David quickly walked over to her, and her words became more distinct. "...benches...grassssss" She stopped, swaying precariously, and looked down. "A ROSE BUSH!.....Neat!" She began to fall forwards, and David rushed over, wrapping his arms around her, keeping her from falling. "I've got you, Sir." he said as softly as possible. "What are you doing way out here?" She turned herself around in his arms, and he loosened his grip slightly. She looked up at him and whispered, "I'm falling over, that's what." She stood up and David let go of her. She gave him an appraising look. David could smell the alcohol on her breath, and the front of her uniform was soaked with it. His expression became concerned. "You've been drinking, Sir. Is there something wrong?" "That should be bloody obvious, Dave." she slurred, "My brother's _DEAD_. Of course there's something wrong." He blinked in surprise. <Brother? Dead?> "I'm sorry, Sir, I didn't know..." "David?" she mumbled, stepping sideways, trying to keep her balance. <She's gonna fall over again.> David tensed his muscles, ready to catch her if she did. "Yes Sir?" Her eyes glazed as she spoke. "Jes' call me Kay. Nobody else does." Her eyes fluttered and she tipped forward. David stepped into her fall, catching her. "I got ya, Commander. Commander?" He pushed her away enough to see her face. "Damn, she's out cold." He glanced around. "Now what?"
David walked as quietly as he could as he entered the NightHawks' ready room. It had taken a lot longer than usual to get there, mostly because he had travelled through side routes and less-travelled hallways. It wouldn't be good for someone to see him carrying his CO around slung over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. He walked up to Commander Landers' office and pulled on the handle. <SHIT! Locked.> David carefully sat his package on the floor, taking care not to drop her head onto the metal decking. Then he began patting her down, searching for her key-card. "Oh man, I hope no one shows up right now. This'll look really bad. Really bad. Aha!" He carefully reached into one of her pockets and pulled out a small rectangular card. He slid it through the reader, and was rewarded with a click He pushed on the door, swinging it open, then turned around and placed his hands under Commander Landers' armpits, lifting her up and dragging her through the door. Once inside, he closed the door again, locked it, and carried her into the back room, where her bunk was. He sat her down on the bunk and stepped back, trying to decide what to do next. The odor of alcohol was strong, mostly coming off of her sodden clothes. "Well," he spoke aloud, "What do I do know?" After a brief moment's thought, he walked over to the closet and began rummaging through the clothes there. He pulled out a set of sweat-pants and tee shirt and walked back over to the bed. "Pardon me, Kay." he said to her, even though she was unconscious. "But I've got to get you out of those wet clothes." He quickly set about removing the alcohol-sodden clothes, which he tossed into a small basket in one corner of the room. He had just gotten the sweat pants onto her and was working on the tee shirt when she began to stir, mumbling incoherently. "Oh, man, don't wake up now." he muttered, trying to get her left arm through the proper hole in the shirt. "I'd never be able to explain this one." He got the shirt onto her, and set her alarm clock. "Yep, you've got to get up nice and early this morning. Boy, are you going to feel like crap." He leaned over her and began pulling the bed covers up. Without warning, her arms snaked out and grabbed him. Unprepared for such a move, David was pulled off his feet, tumbling into the bed. Before he could put up much of a struggle, she had wrapped both legs around him as well. David struggled for several minutes, but was unable to break her grip. He tried to wake her up, but she wouldn't so much as bat an eye. As she pulled up even closer to him, snuggling against him, David tried to ignore the femenine scent of her and figure a way to extricate himself. Try as he might, however, he couldn't remove himself from her iron grip. "Looks like I'm stuck here." he muttered, glancing over at her peacefully sleeping face. "I sure hope you're in a good mood when you wake up."
Forward to Chapter 17.
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