by Jingo Yatani

September 1999

DarkStar Hangar 6

Later that Afternoon

"Man, can you believe this?" Daishi was looking at his E-wing. "The power coupling is all screwed up. It's nothin' but a mess of wires!" Sparks of electricty danced about randomly; Daishi eyed it critically then threw down his tools. "I give up." The hangar bay was full of pilots, fighters, droids, and mechanics. The decks were littered with hoses and weapon racks. It was cold typical atmosphere of most hangars. The blackness of space just a few hundred metres away.

"Here let me take a look." Bipta pulled himself around the landing skid and slung a heavy bag of tools down in front of him and crouched down beside Daishi looking at the underside of the craft. The IW had adopted a standard performed in the Society of Shawdows to perform repairs and maintenance on their own craft. Their flight time wasn't cut any. Their recreation and meal time was. This type of cross training made them more versatile if their craft needed repairs outside the luxary of the well stocked hangar bays in the heat of a battle.

"So whaddya think?" Daishi asked, glancing up at Bipta.

"Well, it's definitely a mess. I think the red wire here, should--" Bipta snached his hand away with a yelp and rapidly began beating it up and down, cursing. The short and snubbed metal tool he was using was a smouldering piece of slag on the end.

"Gave you a bit of a jolt, eh? You know what my momma always said about metal and electricity." Daishi laughed. "I think the yellow wire would have been better."

"Yeah yeah. Rub it in." Bipta yelled and then inspected his hand. No permanent damage. "At least I won't miss flight duty."

"You eat that stuff up don't you?"

"Of course. Flying is the best!" Daishi said still flapping his injured hand.

"Really? I thought for a minute you were going to suggest we fix you A-wing when we're finished with this."

"Ugg. You know, I really hate doing these repairs. I mean, I know why they make us do it. Intellectually, that is. But geez, I signed up with the IW to be a pilot. Here I am an ace on board the DarkStar pretending at being a mechanic."

"So you're an ace now, huh?" Daishi smiled sideways at Bipta.

"Well, I'm no Jingo Yatani. But I've had my fair share." Bipta knelt back down and picked up his tool and began unscrewing a metalic under plate on the E-wing. He smiled inwardly. Jingo was a good pilot, one of the best. But Bipta knew that it'd be a very very close call on a one on one dog-fight.

"Yeah. I read the report on Jingo's kills at the Ambush at Olan." Daishi went on. "Now, there's an ace. I wonder what it would have been like to be in Black back then? I mean we fly the simulated runs and do standard patrols, and occasionally knock out some pirates in antique fishing boats. But. . . it isn't the same."

"Nope. Never is." Bipta said. He knew the feeling of being involved in combat with an enemy nearly your equal. It was exhilarating to best someone with training.

"I mean, what have we done since the Ambush at Olan? Everyone remembers that battle. It seems like that's all Jingo ever talks about. When do we get to be heroes?" Diashi, picked up a tool sullenly from Bipta's bag and helped unscrew the plate.

"Weren't you in the Vonsum conflict?" Bipta asked suddenly just as the last screw popped out and the plate fell to the ground.

"Yeah. More as a military advisor than actual pilot. I watched the combats through broadcast screens. I read the debriefings, studied the results. It was rather boring actually."

"So you didn't fly at all?"

"Well once or twice. But I felt like I was the odd man out with no one else there. They didn't let me do much."

"What was it like?" Bipta asked, as he clambered under the E-wing hunting for the yellow wire. Daishi leaned back on his heels and tapped his knee with the tool and smiled; he looked straight ahead.

"The usual. Squadron battles. Taking out capital ships. Downing enemy A-wings, B-wings, and X-wings. But it was rather sheltered." Daishi said, smiling. Knowing that Bipta couldn't see him.

"I bet. hey, hand me the pliers will ya?" Bipta yanked on the yellow wire with the aid of the tool and it came out. The wire was bare in some places, barely able to make connection.

"Need any help?" Jingo asked coming up behind them. Jingo was dressed in his new white uniform. His medals shone brightly, nearly as bright as his shoes.

"Howdy, sir." Daishi turned his head sideways catching a mere glimpse of Jingo and then returned to his work on the E-wing. "Nah. I think Bipta only has enough skill to kill only two of us today. Three might tax him a little to much."

Jingo could hear the mumbled. "Yeah yeah" from underneath the E-wing and smiled. He would miss working with these men.

"So how did the simulated runs go, Bipta?"

"Well." Bipta grunted. "We only lost thirty percent this time. That's cutting our losses in half from the actual battle. You know if I was there, I bet I could have-"

"Well, you weren't." Jingo said. "Keep it up. And change the variables every so often. I want it to be a fresh fight each time. Don't expect anything."

"Gotcha, sir!" Bipta sighed.

At that moment. Kyle Bair came around. A data pad in his hand. He had been inspecting his own A-wing, making calculations. It was then he noticed Jingo.

"Hi, Jingo I was wondering if you could take a look at these numbers here. I'm wondering how many torpedoes we could fit on an A-wing if we-- uh--" His mouth dropped open in surprise when he noticed the bar indicating Jingo's new rank.

"Shhh." Jingo mouthed, quietly putting one finger to his lips, grinning.

Bair nodded, also grinning.

"Uh Daishi could you help me with something." Jingo asked, smiling.

"Of course. But better make it quick Biptas--" Daishi turned around and for a good minute stood staring open-mouthed at Jingo. I think I'm going to like this, Jingo thought. Jingo again hushed Daishi with his finger. And then whispered in both Daishi's and Bipta's ear. Daishi grinned evily, and then called out in a loud voice. "Commodore on deck! All hands ATTENTION!"

"Geez! Not now!" Bipta cursed, bumped his head, cursed again then rolled himself out from under the E-wing. "What's the Com doing here?" Jingo quietly stepped behind Bipta. The entire hangar stood at stiff attention facing the main entrance to the hanger. Facing where Jingo wasn't. This was going to be beautiful. Daishi and Bair played their roles out perfectly, standing as still as statues. Although it looked like Bair was only barely containing laughter.

Bitpa stood at attention facing the main entrance. Two rows of Storm Troopers filed into the hangar and then formed two parallel lines, a hallway of sorts. "Geez. Smasher sure is one for cermony isn't whispered Bipta. The moments dragged on. And no Commodore showed up through the door.

"Want to go to Vol?" Jingo whispered in his ear behind him.

"Geez! Not now, commander. The Commodore's going to show up any sec."

"Oh, you don't know the half of it." Jingo smiled in his ear. But Bipta didn't turn around. His training was good, Jingo would give him that. "I think you want to go to Vol. I dare you to turn around."

"What is this sir? some kinda test."

"Don't you want to go to Vol?"

"Of course, but. . ." His resistance was fading.

"How about Squadron Commander and Vol?"

"Huh?" Jingo could see his training wasn't going to hold up.

"At EASE!" Jingo shouted right in Bipta's ear, loud enough for the hangar to hear. Bipta yelled and whirled around his fist raised.

"Why you--!" he said. And then caught himself in mid sentence as his jaw nearly hit the floor.

"Uh uh uh. Is that the way to address an Admiral?" Jingo said sweetly. The entire hangar began to snicker.

"I don't believe it." Bipta said sourly.

"Belive it, Squadron Commander." Jingo said in a whisper that only Bipta could hear. His face instantly serious. "You're in charge of Black now. And we're going to Vol. Don't let it leak."

"I don't believe it." Bipta widened his eyes.

"Why do you keep saying that?" Jingo asked in a normal tone. Then he grinned. "Someone once said not to act like a parrot. It's very bad form. Meet me in my office in 15 minutes, Major Bipta." Jingo strode off.

"Huh?" Bipta paused; then opened his mouth; he pointed his finger at his chest. "But I'm not a Major. Major? You're promoting me to Major? Did you hear that. He just promoted me? He just--"

"Cool it, Bipta!" Daishi said shaking his head wondering if this maddness would go to Bipta's head. He clapping him on the shoulder and started to pull him towards the door.

"Hey, is that any way to speak to a Major?" Bipta asked, grinning.