trans_9 | Capital Ship Get

Perhaps he wasn't quite as bad as Alto or Ozma, but Michael did have the heart of a pilot - so when he heard that this mysterious hangar bay had ships of all types from a thousand different universes, he had to check it out.

And the description didn't disappoint. He wasn't the gaping type, but boy did he gape at the thousands - no, tens of thousands - of craft all smartly lined up in rows. How big was this place?

There were fighters, some that looked like his trusty VF-25 but others that looked wholly alien, there were bipedal craft that vaguely resembled the Battroid mode, and then there were bestial creations that... well, he'd never seen anything like that before.

But no sooner had he taken a step or two into the room than something happened: A huge section of the far wall began to... he couldn't quite explain it. It seemed like a membrane that was dissolving away to reveal a separate section of the hangar beyond - and the sniper's eyes went wide. Because in that new section was a shape he was entirely familiar with.

At 400 meters long, the bulk of the Macross Quarter dwarfed pretty much all of the other craft in the hangar. But that was impossible - how could the Quarter be here? What the hell had happened back home after he'd ... well, died?

He pulled out the omnicomm he'd been issued and shot a quick message over to Ozma.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Then pull it off."

"So you're the type who'd hire a plumber to fix your electric wiring, then."

"Of course. It's not like I know anything about wires."

"I guess I can't fault you for being inconsistent," he chuckled, giving his head a little shake.

"I'll think of something. It's just not the kind of decision you rush."

"... but we do have to hurry."

"We do," he agreed. "...but would you leave people behind?"

"I already said no, didn't I? So let's beat the Ohm and go home!"

That got another grin out of him. "Let's, then. That's hardly even a problem."

"So, what are you doing with the extra Valkyries?"

"Not crashing them thirty seconds after we take the controls, that's for sure," he teased. Fondly, really.

"Excuse me?" she hissed, making a grab vaguely where a collar would have been on any other article of clothing.

Sheryl's fury was truly something to behold, but he'd known women with worse tempers - she grabbed at his plantsuit, and he just grinned down at her. "I liked that Valkyrie," he said breezily, and then immediately changed the topic.

"It's Captain Ozma's call, but I hate to think we'd let them going to waste waiting on the NUNS to show up. Better to get some new pilots here."

"Oho," she smirked. "Recruiting?"

"Still want to fly a plane? You don't have to impress that Princess here, you know. Not yet."

"I'll decide that later! To start, you need to get people's attention."

"Open advertising? That'd be a change, though it's not a bad suggestion."

"I'm guessing you have some ideas."

"You know what moves well in EX-Gear, right?"

"The same thing that moves well in everything else?"

"Exactly! So do you want young people to get a good impression of you or not?"

"You're making it sound like I've already turned you down."

"You're reading it all wrong. I know you won't turn me down."

"Of course. What man in his right mind would turn down the gracious aid of the Fairy of the Galaxy?" A grin.

"Exactly. There's some things you need professional help with!"

"Far be it for me to step on the toes of a lady who knows what she's doing." He cocked his head. "Dare I ask the plan?"

"You have to do a demonstration with Ex-Gear. Make it look cool!"

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shootingblancs - 2010-08-06 00:57 (UTC) - Expand

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