The approaching shuffle of feet pulled Arria out of his reverie. When a shadow fell over him, he glanced up, then a little higher up still, and smiled.
"Why aren't you taking advantage of the break, guys?"
"You been sleeping or what? There's barely a quarter of an hour left till the meeting you called."
"What is it that late already?" Arria checked his watch and stretched his arms. "Not sleeping, though, just thinking about this whole mess."
"Yeah, though I think a mess is a pretty kind word the whole thing."
Fonzo Mannheimer's bushy eyebrows furrowed and he sat down opposite to Arria, the ever-present Corinn half-leaning, half-hanging on the back of his seat. The chair squeaked indignantly under their combined weight, but neither paid any attention.
Fonzo was the only person in the base who could look Captain Dahomey in the eye without spraining his neck. In fact he could even look slightly down at Osip, and that, plus his sheer bulk, made for a sight that nobody in their right minds would like to encounter on a dark alley. Complete the picture with the shorter but even more impressively muscle-packed Corinn Jakunschek perpetually flanking him, and there was a pair anyone would be wary of. That is, until one saw the joking glitter in their eyes or heard their constant banter. The two miracle mechanics were high on Arria's list of the most genuinely nice, good-hearted, friendly men in existence, and it was really unusual to see them looking as serious as they did at the moment.
"Well, I suppose I'd better try and get my thoughts into some kind of order," Arria said and stood up. "Ah, Osip, there you are! I want to have a word with you before we begin…"
He pulled Osip aside and they soon fell into intense conversation. Corinn's hazel eyes surveyed the large vaulted room that was rapidly filling with people, and he frowned.
"So many guys who'll never show up anymore," he muttered to himself.
"Damn Seranno," Fonzo growled. "The man was an asshole while alive, and being dead doesn't make him any less of an asshole."
Corinn grunted in agreement. "Kind of hard to figure out who should be here, with so many guys missing in action. The place looks half empty."
"With the two of you here it looks half full anyway," drawled a voice behind his right shoulder, and Corinn dealt a lazy punch towards the speaker without really looking. It didn't connect, but then he hadn't meant it to. "Hey, Jakunschek, don't wave those hams around like that! You might hurt somebody, you know."
"You might hurt your jaws, Baris, wagging them all the time," Corinn retorted and received a quick slap on his buttocks.
"That's Merez you're speaking to, jerk," said the other twin from his left and sprawled on the two-seat couch. "Over here, bro!"
"Well, no shit, now that I see you." Corinn chuckled.
The brothers quickly occupied the two-seater and were soon joined by a lithe redhead who squeezed herself between them and did not hesitate to bury a sharp elbow into Merez's gut to force him make more space.
"Ouch, Wilson! Hey, tell your girlfriend that it's not nice of her to abuse your next of kin!" Merez complained.
"One, she'll maim you now anyway for calling her my girlfriend. Two, your fat ass really doesn't need that much of this couch," Baris said mildly.
"Oh yeah? So you mean as this is a two-seater, I'm too much here?"
"No. But since the two of you're practically one person anyway, that means there's exactly the right number of people sitting here at the moment." Wilson glared at Merez. "So stop whining and shut up."
He gave her a lopsided grin and she shook her head. "Men… but really, shut up now, guys. I don't think everybody here is in a joking mood, and quite frankly you shouldn't be either."
The twins sobered immediately and Wilson bit her lip. Her gaze fell on a group of pilots who just sauntered into the room and she blinked her eyes to stop the suspicious tingling behind the lids. Couches and benches were being filled, chairs moved so that everybody could better see towards the main screen. People were leaning on walls and tables, even crouching to sit on the floor when no more seats were available.
Curiously, a pattern seemed to be emerging. It could not really be called a circle, as its imaginary center was next to a wall that prevented it from becoming fully symmetrical. Yet all seats and other furniture were being turned so that people were facing exactly that stretch of wall against which Arria and Osip were leaning. The blond Head of Base Control and the dark Head Pilot were totally immersed in whatever they were talking about, and both remained completely oblivious to the increasing number of eyes that were being focussed on them, until a quiet chime signaled that the appointed hour of the meeting had come, and startled them both.
Arria's eyes widened as he took in the situation, and a slight blush crept on his cheeks. Used as he was to addressing large groups of people, he usually did it from the confines of the control room, and was somewhat embarrassed to find himself so suddenly in the spotlight. Osip straightened himself from the lazy slouch and surveyed the room.
"Looks like most everybody's here by now." His low voice carried well and people fell silent. "As the very first thing, it's my sad duty to confirm that on this day altogether forty-three of our comrades lost their lives in battle. They were great men, great pilots, great fighters. They were also good friends who will be sorely missed." Osip's voice quavered and he paused for a while to get it under control again. "My deepest sympathy goes to everyone who's lost a loved one today. You have suffered the greatest loss, but I want you to remember that you don't have to bear it alone. We're here together."
The silence was deafening. Here and there a hand was raised to wipe away a tear or to squeeze another person's arm or shoulder. Arria swallowed hard a couple of times and forced himself to breathe evenly. The weight of emotions in the room was a nearly physical entity, he could feel and taste it, but this was not the time nor the place to feel overwhelmed. He cleared his throat.
"That's right," he confirmed softly. "Everyone counts, and I'm sure we all want to help each other out. This is a loss that touches each one of us, but together we can make it through."
It sounded hopelessly clichéd, sure, but the discussion prior to the meeting had proven to Arria that he and Osip strongly agreed on one thing: only by really making the base work as one unit could they hope to have any kind of a future. The people who had joined the rebellion had burned their bridges. They had gone underground, disappeared from the outside world, and there wasn't much chance of them ever returning to life under the Union. If they weren't able to continue working for the rebellion, either, well, that was it. There was no going back or forward, nothing else left but curl up and die.
Somehow Arria could not imagine that the people around him would be willing to do anything so simple.
"Everyone counts," he repeated, "now more than ever before. What happened today has affected our ability to engage in battles more than anything else. That is something we can't change quickly. But let's view this more as a temporary setback, not a permanent state of affairs. We'll need some time to build up our strength, that's true but we won't give up. This was not the last time the Union hears about us, and for that end we all can do something to help!"
Arria hadn't realized that his voice had risen until he had to stop for breath and saw the determined expressions around him. Osip looked at him and he nodded, breathless.
"Yes, that's something we all must bear in mind here." Osip took again over, and Arria found himself marveling at the care with which the brusque pilot picked his words as he continued: "So far there have been quite a few people in this base who haven't been able to fulfil their potential..."
So polite you are, Osip, Arria mused and mentally corrected it to the more truthful 'haven't been allowed to do anything'.
Nobody in the Robillard base could ever understand where Commander Seranno had picked up his peculiar ideas about men, women, and their respective roles in this world, but wherever they came from, they'd unfortunately been impossible to overlook. Commander Seranno had always made sure that his opinion was both publicly known and obeyed. Such a pity that he tended to have an opinion about everything, and that so many of those opinions were downright weird. Somebody had once mentioned in passing that the Commander's home planet was said to be a strange place with highly eccentric and outdated notions about the proper order of the universe. Well, if Commander Seranno's opinions were anything to go by, 'eccentric' or 'outdated' did not even begin to describe the place.
Arria's gaze sifted out all the women scattered among the male majority in the common room. Well, at least the Commander had accepted the presence of women in the maintenance staff after all, cooking was for females, right? Nursing was allowed, too, but it certainly was an outrage that Monah Seranno, a highly qualified nurse, was banned from working at the ward by her idiot of a husband simply because she was the First Lady of the base! Not that she had obeyed him, though. What the Commander didn't know he didn't get mad about, and people were clever enough to keep silent about Mrs. Seranno's whereabouts while the Commander was flying to battle.
But what about the other women? What had they been doing in their lives, before fate or whatever had thrown them in with the rebels? Arria picked up the lead from Osip and continued:
"So, we know that all of our future is dependent on all of us. Air battles are not the only thing we can do to carry on this war, not by a long way. That's why we all need to be here now, to talk and decide things together. We need to look at our organization, we need to find out each and every one's abilities."
"Yeah, and the first thing about organization is, who's going to be the next Commander? We need one, we must choose one."
At Osip's words the room fell silent again and people looked at each other. After a few seconds the loose group of pilots stirred and Maschani spoke up:
"Is there any question about that? You, of course."
"Hey, hey," Osip lifted his hands to silence the general murmur of agreement. "I think today should've shown us clearly enough that it's not good to have a Commander who's in the frontline during a battle, and there's no way I'm going to stay down here from now on."
"But you're the obvious choice," countered Percy. "I mean, you were the second in command anyway."
"True, but that's how I'd like it to stay. As a matter of fact, I did have a name in mind, too." Osip glanced at the expectant faces and smiled a little. "Who's the person we all rely on without question? Who's the voice of reason and comfort we all listen to? Who's the first one that comes to mind when you think of the Robillard Base? Flyboys, I'm looking at you!"
He received several grins from the pilots and his own smile broadened. "That's right. My suggestion for the new Commander is Arria Hamidha."
"What?!" Arria's jaw dropped, he stared dumbfounded at Osip who looked at him with eyes that were at the same time serious and mischievous. "You can't mean it! No, you're the Commander, there's no question about that!"
"What he said makes a lot of sense, though," Corinn raised his voice. "After all, we all know Osip's not going to stay grounded, but what if he should go M.I.A. in the next battle? Heaven forbid, but that's possible, and then we'll be back to square one again."
"Besides, it's a public secret that the most sensible battle strategies of recent times have been mostly your handiwork," added the soft alto voice of Monah Seranno. She granted Arria a little smile. "Don't give all credit to others, especially when those others never bothered to acknowledge your input."
Arria blushed again but held his ground. "I understand you, everybody, but I seriously don't think I'm up to the task."
"Objection, your Honor," Osip mumbled and crossed his arms on his wide chest. Arria shot him an exasperated glance that Osip met with a challenging smirk. "Seriously, do you have any other suggestions?"
The two candidates' staring contest was cut short by a deep voice:
"Why don't you do it together?"
Both men blinked and turned to look at Fonzo.
"I bet the two of you could stand each other well enough to share the responsibility," he clarified. "After all, that would solve both problems, and I'm sure two heads would be better than one in managing this base on a daily basis."
"Now that's a good suggestion if I ever heard one," said Maschani. "Getting the best of both worlds! Besides, if we're going to start really working together here, why don't you two show us a good example?"
"Yeah, and who was it that immediately stepped up to get things under control right now, after the battle? Look into the mirror, guys!"
Osip listened for a few moments to all the sounds of agreement that poured upon them from all directions, then his mouth stretched into a broad smile and he offered his hand to Arria.
"I think we're outvoted here, Commander. For my part I'm ready to give it my best shot. You?"
Arria took a deep breath and let his long-fingered hand be engulfed by the broad palm. "All right. I'll do my best to be worthy of this Commander."
Despite the situation, quite a few people actually applauded as the two shook hands, relief reflecting from every face. Osip grinned to Arria, then they both turned again to face the crowd.
"Okay, people, thanks for the vote of confidence," Osip said. "Now we probably should retire somewhere to have our first meeting as joint Commanders."
"That's right," Arria joined in. "Though there is something that still has to be addressed right now. What we said about everybody being needed was so very true, and there's no reason to waste time with that. You know who's the head of each function here maintenance, mechanics, medical, so forth. If you have skills that you haven't been able to use, contact them first thing tomorrow. If you don't know how your special field could be useful, or don't have any specialty as such, please come and talk to me."
"What about piloting?" Wilson's clear voice sounded from the sofa where she was still sitting, wedged between the lanky bodies of the identical twins. Osip turned an inquisitive gaze to her and she lifted her chin. "For your information, I'm a fully qualified fighter pilot."
"You are?" Osip's face lit up. "Hey, that's simply marvelous! Yes, piloting is definitely included, so if there are any others, just contact me. And you, Wilson, I want to have an interview with you first thing in the morning!"
Wilson looked smug. Baris grinned broadly and ruffled her cropped hair, earning a half-hearted punch to the side.
"But hey," Fonzo said suddenly, brow creased. "I don't think everybody's here after all."
"Whatcha mean?" Corinn perked up.
"I just now noticed that there's somebody I haven't seen here." Fonzo scanned the room, then nodded to himself. "Yup, thought so."
"Who are you talking about?" asked Arria who had heard the exchange. "Who's missing? Are there any people in the ward at the moment?"
"I don't think that's the case," Fonzo muttered slowly. "But, where's the kid? I mean, Turner's friend."
At the telltale pause everybody seemed to freeze for a moment. Osip's eyes narrowed and he shot a glance at Arria.
"You're right, Fonzo. He definitely seems to be missing." He swallowed. "And Turner's one of the forty-three we've lost today."
"He probably wasn't here an hour ago, either, so he wouldn't know about this meeting." Corinn tugged thoughtfully at his sleeve. "Come on, pal, we ought to go looking for him."
Fonzo nodded and the formidable pair sauntered into the corridors.
"Where could he be?" Fonzo mused. "You seen him today?"
"Well, I seem to recall seeing him somewhere around the common room when the guys were flying out. As usual." Corinn peeped into a small room as the passed it by, shook his head in defeat and continued walking. "After that, no idea. Perhaps we ought to check their room first."
That lead did not yield anything, so the men returned to the more public parts of the base. Fonzo's face was deeply furrowed with concern as they continued the hunt for their elusive prey.
"Poor kid," Corinn sighed. "First he spends months here as a virtual outcast with nobody else but Turner as company, and now this!" His fist banged angrily against a wall. "Did I say this yet? Fuck Seranno!"
"Yeah," Fonzo agreed absent-mindedly. "Right now he definitely needs someone to look after him. We'd better find him soon, or I'll be getting really worried!"
The systematic search continued for another few frustrating moments, then Corinn stopped in his tracks. He nodded towards a tiny conference room, hardly more than a niche by the corridor, with some deep and comfortable-looking seats facing each other and a low table between them. A slumped figure was nearly hidden in the depths of one chair, only a slender pair of legs visible. Fonzo took a cautious step closer and cleared his throat.
"Hey," he said quietly.
No reaction.
"Kid," Corinn tried in turn. "We've been looking for you. Everybody's wanted in the big common room, you know."
Still no response. The men exchanged a meaningful glance and then sat down in unison, facing the silent shadow that did nothing to acknowledge their presence. After some nervous fidgeting, Corinn was the first to get his voice back.
"We're so sorry, kid. I mean, you must be going through a real hell right now, but you shouldn't really be alone."
"Yeah, come with us," Fonzo joined in. "We're there for you. There's a meeting in the common room that everybody in the base should attend. That includes you too, kid."
"Lancer."
The muffled voice was so quiet that both men strained their ears to hear it. For a few seconds they held their breath, uncertain of what to do, and then the figure lifted its face that had apparently been pressed into its hands behind the veil of pearl-blond hair.
"The name's Lancer," he whispered, eyes shining angrily from the shadow. "Robin Lancer. You didn't remember it, did you? And why would you? I'm not really here, am I? I don't really exist, not for you, not for anybody! So you can cut the crap everybody is already in the common rooms. Just get lost?"
Fonzo and Corinn stared at the narrow face that was contorted with rage and wet with tears, and both thought about the same thing: they had probably just heard the young man speak more in one breath than during all the months he'd lived in the base.
"But we won't." Fonzo rubbed his palms together, a sure indicator of extreme discomfort. "Look, I know you probably won't believe a word we're saying, but I feel really rotten about how you've been treated so far. I'd like to try and make up for it somehow. Like, doing what I can right now to help you through this."
Corinn nodded beside him, brown eyes warm and sympathetic. He felt a painful pang of remorse in his gut. Of course the boy was absolutely right. Seranno or no Seranno, their conduct had been damn near unforgivable, he thought bitterly. Why the hell had everybody just meekly gone along with that bigoted madman's whims? Corinn swore to himself, unwilling to admit that perhaps the so-recently-deceased Commander's sheer force of personality might have had something to do with it, or the fact that nobody wanted to draw his attention to oneself. Whatever.
"We're really sorry about Turner..."
He didn't get any further. At the name the young man let a shuddering gasp and buried again his head in his arms. All they could hear was the hissing of his breath, and Fonzo moved around the little table to wrap a bulky arm around violently shaking shoulders.
"Shh, kid… Lancer… I'm sure I can't even begin to imagine how much you're hurting," Fonzo murmured. "But we really should go to the common room. The Commanders are waiting."
"For what? The freak show? The resident queer? No thanks." Lancer's voice broke and he tried in vain to pull away from Fonzo.
"Lancer, the only one here who ever thought like that was Seranno, and he's dead!" Corinn took a deep breath. "I know, it's hard to believe judging from how everybody's been shying away from you, but it's simply because well, we'd all been drilled too damn well to just do whatever that stiffneck said. Call it self-preservation instinct or what you like. But I can safely say I've never had any problem with what you and Tu I mean, you were lovers, so what? And I'm sure everyone here shares my view. Come and see for yourself."
"Yeah. We promised to find you and bring you along, and that's what we'll do!" Fonzo stood up and pulled the reluctant Lancer with him. "Come on with us. Believe me, we're not going to leave you alone."
"I'm not coming! Let go of me now!"
"Hush."
Even though anger is said to multiply a person's physical strength, there was still very little that Lancer could hope to accomplish against the determined duo. Thus he soon found himself being literally walked towards the common room, securely ensconced between two big bodies that made escape impossible. Fonzo's sturdy arm was still flung around his shoulders and he accepted his defeat, body sagging listlessly.
Lancer did not want to go into the common room. He did not want anybody looking at him, not those awkward sideways glances, the uncertainty, the confusion and desperate attempts not to acknowledge his presence in any way. He'd been able to ignore all that, or at least not think about it, when he'd someone to hold on to. But he did not want to go in there knowing that he would never again spot a certain familiar, dark-haired figure among the bunch of pilots hanging out and chatting with each other. Never again would another pilot nudge that certain somebody so that he'd turn his head and flash his lover a warm smile across the room. Never again would the man walk to him and kiss him on the mouth, radiating blatant defiance to all the people who were studiously not looking at them.
He closed his eyes. How could it be true? Only a few hours ago he'd helped the man check his flying gear before the mission, they'd hugged tight and shared a long kiss. The man had smiled and promised to be back after 'kicking some Union ass'. Only this time he couldn't make good of his promise. Because he was gone. Turner would never be back. Turner was dead.
Lancer gasped for breath as the truth hit him again with full force. He jerked himself loose but did not get two steps away before Corinn grabbed his arm, and then his desperation got the better of him and he tried to hit the man just to make him let go, but of course a huge hand closed around his wrist before the fist connected with anything. Lancer knew tears were falling again and he'd be damned if he was going to set a foot in that room no never oh god Turner...
Maschani, standing closest to the open door, heard the commotion in the corridor and stepped outside to investigate. He immediately recognized the willowy figure wrapped protectively in Fonzo's arms, and raised his eyebrows at Corinn who nodded to him. He nodded in response and retreated back into the din of conversation in the common room.
"It's OK now, they've found him," he raised his voice slightly and the two Commanders perked up. "They'll be here in a sec."
"Very well. Now everybody in this base is accounted for," Arria stated looking very determined. "As I was saying, I'm sure we can all agree on these ground rules, and also agree to make sure that we'll never again have to face situations like this. I for one feel more ashamed than I can say "
He, like everyone else in the room, fell silent when Corinn appeared at the door, closely followed by Fonzo who was hugging an unresisting, unresponsive young man to his side. Long hair, silky blond with a tinge of platinum, veiled the narrow face almost completely from the dozens of eyes that turned to him. It also prevented him from seeing the sympathetic expressions on watching faces.
"Mission Lancer accomplished, Commanders!" Fonzo rumbled. "Hope we didn't take too long?"
"Never mind that, the main thing is that you found him." Osip stepped closer and tried in vain to see the downcast face. He spoke quietly. "Lancer... our deepest condolences. This must be especially hard on you..."
"Just leave me alone!"
Even though there was a nearly hysterical edge to the voice, Arria found himself immediately pondering if he couldn't find it some use in the control room. Under more pleasant circumstances it was probably a very nice voice, soft and velvety, matching the slender and nearly-but-not-quite feminine beauty of its owner…
Arria kicked himself mentally. For goodness' sake, was the 'efficient Commander mode' so quick to raise its head and try to override his own empathic nature? Surely it was not necessary to be thinking of a possible job for Turner's mysterious lover at this very moment?
"I think we've already left you alone for way too long," he said earnestly. "And like it or not, you're stuck with us. I understand very well if you're not all too ready to trust us right away, but I'd like to apologize for what you've had to go through, and to offer whatever help I can."
Lancer raised his face and an incredulous pair of green-gray eyes peered at Arria from the silky shadow, then he swallowed and shook his head.
"We mean it," Osip said. "I'm sure you know that there's no returning from this base to the outside world. Once you get involved with rebels, for whatever reason, that's it, and we really honestly want you to feel at home here."
"You'd better believe the Commanders, kid," Fonzo said soothingly and looked Arria steadily in the eye. "Don't you worry at all, sirs, we'll take good care of Lancer."
"Yeah," Corinn piped in. "Right now he needs to rest."
"I believe we all sorely need that by now," Osip said. "So let's call this meeting officially closed and worry about getting organized in the morning. Good night to everyone."
The crowd began to disperse. Several pilots hovered closer to the blond young man and his supporters, and finally it was Percy who took the last few steps and wordlessly lifted his hand to give Lancer's shoulder a gentle squeeze before walking out.
"OK, Lancer, you'll sleep in my room at least tonight."
Fonzo grinned to the oblivious head that had sunk wearily against his arm. He heard Corinn yelp behind him.
"What about me? Don't you remember that it's my room too? I don't think he'd want to share a bed with either of us!"
"You can go bunk with the twins," Fonzo shot over his shoulder. "Surely they can fit their bones in one bed for a few nights if need be, they're practically joined by the hip anyway."
He saw Baris give a pleading look to Wilson who shrugged.
"Well, I suppose I could put up with waking up next to you in my bed, lout," she drawled. "But remember, no filthy overalls on the floor!"
"It's that easy?" Merez stared at his brother who grinned broadly back. "Is that the only condition? Any chance of me getting there for a change?"
Wilson smirked wickedly. "No chance, sweetheart. One of you is definitely enough for me."
"Yeah, but how about one at a time?" Merez's hopeful voice disappeared behind a corner and Corinn laughed.
"To think that you push me in with Merez," he said, and Fonzo chuckled.
"Sorry, pal, but I'm not changing my mind. I bet Lancer smells better than you, anyway."
"Oh? Just you wait until he's spent one night in the same room with you and then let's see in the morning if he still wants to stay for another…"
Lancer was bone-weary, heartbroken, totally desolate and lost, but he couldn't help himself. His lips curled into a tiny smile.
