Chapter 24

David took a deep breath and opened the door the the Commander's office. He glanced inside, but didn't see her at her desk, so he quickly stepped into the office and closed the door behind him. Turning back around, he spotted the Commander standing near the door to her quarters, watching him idly. She was dressed in sweat pants and a uniform shirt - the front of which was being held shut by a single button. David resisted the urge to watch her chest as she moved, instead focusing on her face. She looked tired - her eyes were red and sunken-looking, and there was a slight glimmer of anger in them. <Maybe I aught to come back later.> David pondered. <Aw, dammit, I'm already here....might as well stick this out.> 

She stepped over to her desk, which was cluttered with stacks of paper and the rest of her crumpled uniform. She looked over at him, the anger fading from her eyes. "What can I do for you, David?" 

David collected his thoughts. "I need to ask for more time on the flight simulators for Private Le'Mone, Commander." She shot an angry glanced his way, and it took a moment for him to figure out what for. "Oops... Kay. Sorry." 

She nodded, then proceeded to rummage through the papers on her desk. "No problem, David. I know I've got the forms for it in here somewhere." David's thoughts were racing. It seemed unfair to single out Charles, and a little more training couldn't hurt.... could it? He cleared his throat. "Actually, come to think of it, could I get more sim time for my whole wing?" He smiled, trying to allay the fear he felt growing within. "I mean, a little practice never hurt anyone, right?" 

Kay pulled out a small sheaf of wrinkled papers and ran them over the edge of the desk - presumably trying to smooth them out. "Of course. I'll just upgrade your wing's scheduling priority and you can set up the appointments yourself." She turned and smiled. "I'll do my part of the paperwork if you'll do yours. You'll have to fill these out when you get a chance." She handed him several forms, then flipped through the sheets she still had. "And I'll finish these when I can." 

David glanced at the papers he now held. <That wasn't so bad.>"Thanks, Kay." 

"Don't mention it." She looked at him. "Oh, and tell any pilots you see to stay on their toes. We'll be landing at Mars base sometime today, and Gloval wants all the squadrons ready. Anyways, I'll see you later, David." 

<Mars?> David blinked several times in surprise. "Mars base? Wow." Absently, he turned towards the door, lost in thought. So lost, in fact, that he didn't notice that he was mumbling his thoughts out loud. "Mars..... that's great. No, wait.... Mars has an atmosphere. We've never flown in atmosphere before. And gravity. Not counting my 'solo' back at Macross Island in Christina's Valkyrie." The mention of Christina Leeds brought another sunject to his mind. He wanted to talk to Lieutenant Fate, and the Commander - Kay, he chided himself - might be able to arrange something. 

David paused at the door and turned to face her. He tried to mask the nervousness in his voice. <She'll never go for it. Never.> "Could I ask you one more thing, Kay?" <That's it. Make it a personal request. Be nice about it.> She nodded, sipping at a glass of some sort of fizzing liquid. <Now how do I put this?> He chose the direct approach. "Could you ask Lieutenant Fate to meet me sometime?" <That didn't sound right... did it?> 

Kay put her drink back on her desk. "I don't think I can." David felt his spirits sink. "What, dare I ask, is it for?" 

He groaned inwardly. <Oh, boy.> He started to fidget, and jammed his hands into his pockets. "Ah... well, I'd rather not say, Sir." <Kay, you ass! Kay!> "It's fairly personal." <Fairly personal? God, this was a bad idea.> 

Kay picked up her glass and took another sip. She shook her head and softly muttered, "I don't think I- Oh." Her face adopted a thoughtful expression, and David glanced at her curiously, afraid to think of what she was thinking. He was about to tell her to forget the whole thing when she came around, a slight smile touching the corners of her mouth. "No problem, David. I'll ask her about it this afternoon." David almost collapsed from the wave of relief that coursed through him. <Thank you, God!> "Anything else?" 

"No Sir." <Whoops!> "Ah.... Kay. Thanks a lot for your help." 

She smiled. "Okay. Bye Dave." 

He almost saluted - almost - but changed his mind at the last moment and waved happily instead as he opened the door. He stepped into the hallway and sighed. <That wasn't so bad.> Kay's comment rang in his mind. "Mars?" he murmured to himself. "Sara Base... it must be." He glanced at the forms he held, tightly rolled into a tube. "Well.... might as well get the paperwork out of the way first." He thumped the papers against his thigh as he headed back to the barracks. 

[Day of Mars Base, David Marshall's Quarters - 1020 hrs] 

David leaned back in his chair, gently massaging the aching muscles in his hand. He'd just finished filling out the requisite forms to get more simulator time for his Wing, and his hand was screaming bloody murder from the work. David spared a quick glance over the last form, then tossed it on top of the stack that had formed beside his computer terminal. 

His thoughts turned to the activities he had planned for that evening. Hopefully, if things went right, he'd be able to get himself back on good terms with Tamara. At least, he hoped he'd be able to get himself back on good terms with her. Their relationship so far hadn't been something to be proud of, he had to admit. <Getting a woman drunk so I could pump her for info on another woman... God, what a shmuck!> He chuckled softly. <Other woman....heh, makes it sound like we're having an affair or something.> 

David leaned forward and pulled out his notepad. He flipped past several pages that were covered with unintelligible scrawls until he found a relatively clean page. He picked up his pen - ignoring the twang from his still aching hand - and began scribbling as his thoughts turned. <Let's see.... Izabelle looks like Christina. Christina's dead. Izabelle's not. Christina was a pilot. Izabelle is one, too.> He stared at the pad for a moment. <Someone claiming to be Christina talked to Vanessa - must've been damn good, too, if she was so convinced. Kim says Vanessa and Izabelle talked in private, which means that Izabelle could be the one. But Izabelle said that she WASN'T Christina when she and Vanessa met. Did she change her mind? And what if it wasn't her at all? Who could it have been?> David paused, then threw down the pad and pen. 

"God!" he cried to the ceiling. "This gives me a headache!" <I guess I'll just have to wait and see if the Commander - no, if Kay> he reminded himself with a smile. <...if Kay can arrange a meeting between the two of us.> He shook his head slowly. "I sound like some love-sick school boy." he muttered. "Better find something to do before I start writing love poems or something." He snatched up his notepad and left himself a reminder to call Tamara when he got back. <Don't want to miss out on my hot date.> he thought sarcastically. 

[Day of Mars Base, Prometheus Hangar Deck, 1134 hours] 

The hangar was a perfect example of organized confusion when David emerged from the elevator. Valkyries were scattered everywhere, with support crews scurrying around them like ants. Weapon crews hauled ammunition - cannon rounds and missiles - to awaiting aircraft, maintenance crews hurried to finish last-minute repairs, fuel crews loaded Valkyries with reaction mass, and through it all he could see pilots watching in wary fascination. A voice cut through the commotion, calling his name. 

He glanced around, trying to spot the source, and spotted Tony standing on the port wing of "Old Yeller," waving in his direction. David pointed towards his own unnamed Valkyrie, and Tony nodded. David walked over to his green-highlighted Valkyrie and began a visual inspection while he waited for Tony to come over. Everything seemed in order, at least as far as he could tell - that was when he spotted the small folded slip of paper taped to the canopy glass. Frowning, he quickly climbed the Valkyrie's access ladder and pulled the paper from the canopy. He unfolded it, revealing a short hand-written note. 

"Dear Sergeant Marshall," he read to himself, "On behalf of the entire maintenance crew, in recognition of you unfailing assistance in keeping us busy, we hereby request that you name this Valkyrie 'Swiss Cheese' in honor of your accomplishments. Sincerely, Tom Charter." He regarded the note for a moment, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth, then turned to look around the hangar. Tom Charter - and most of the maintenance detatchment assigned to Black Squadron - was standing over by Tony's "Old Yeller", an unabashed grin plastered across his face. 

David held the note up in recognition, and the entire maintenance crew broke out into riotous laughter. David climbed back down the ladder, jumping the last few feet to the floor, as Tony and Tom walked over. "So, whaddya think, boss?" Tony laughingly inquired. 

David smiled back at him. "I think I'm working with a bunch of wise-asses, that's what I think." He held up the note. "Who's idea was this, anyways?" 

Tom held up his right hand. "I can not tell a lie. It was Tony's idea." 

"What?!" Tony blurted. "You lying sack of-" 

"Okay, okay!" Tom shouted. "Some guys have no sense of humor." He smacked Tony with his clipboard. "Get over there and finish your checklist. Don't expect us to do everything for you." 

Tony gave Tom one of the crispest salutes David had ever seen. "Yes, SIR!" Tony drawled with a smile. " 

Wise ass." Tom commented as Tony walked back over to his Valkyrie. "Knows his way around a Valkyrie, though. He'd make a grade-A technician." 

"Not a bad pilot, either." David added. "He's getting a lot better at handling himself up there." He sighed. "So, what's the scoop with the unnamed one, here?" 

Tom paged through the papers attached to his clipboard. "Well, your last outing fried one of the master computer's MEMIC's, as well as several of the back-up systems." He gave David a stern look. "Lucky for you we managed to scrounge enough spares from a wrecked Valk or you'd be grounded today." 

David smiled happily. "I thank you so much for allowing me the chance to go out and get shot up again, sir." 

"It must be something that they feed you guys that makes you such wise asses." Tom snarled good-naturedly. "Now I don't want to see that aircraft back in here for repairs again! Got it?" 

"Got it." David repeated. "I'll run through my checks now, with your permission." 

"It's your mecha - do what you want with it, as long as I don't have to fix it." Tom cast one last glance at David's Valkyrie before turning away. " 

Thanks, I will. Oh, and one more thing." 

Tom looked over his shoulder. "What now?" 

David held up the slip of paper from the canopy. "Could you get someone to paint this name on before we deploy? It's as good as any I could come up with." 

Tom paused a moment, probably trying to decide if he was being serious or not, before nodding slowly. "No problem. I can have someone over here in five minutes." 

"Thanks, Tom." David offered. He turned to glance at the newly-named 'Swiss Cheese.' <Just you and me now, buddy.> He whispered silently as he climbed back up to the cockpit. <Let's get ready.> 

Forward to Chapter 25. 
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