Pecking Order
It was late at night in The Fighting and Drinking Pub. Aside from a drunk sleeping in a corner booth, Persephone had the establishment to herself. She slumped atop a bar stool, resting her chin on her elbow and lazily twirling a stir stick in a glass of Quafe. Hap, the ex-pirate proprietor had stayed up later than usual and was seated behind the bar in a low chair. He’d propped his feet up on a crate of liquor bottles and was half-interestedly watching a news program on the video.
“Can’t sleep?” Hap asked Persephone.
“Too much on my mind,” she replied without looking up. She brushed the plastic stirrer against the inside of the glass and watched the fizzy bubbles.
Hap knew that tone of voice well. “Shot down again?”
Persephone shook her head once without removing it from its perch on her palm. “No, I got a pretty decent kill tonight.”
“So why so glum?” Hap asked.
“We’ve got a new pilot in the Hellcats, Maeveria,” Persephone explained. “I’ve told you about her, right?”
“Oh yeah,” Hap replied. “Enthusiastic, cheerful, hell on wheels in a fight, and desperately eager to please and to learn the ways of piracy. I seem to recall that you like her rather a lot.”
“That’s true,” Persephone admitted. “I do. She’s fantastic.”
“Know who she reminds me of?” Hap asked.
“Yeah,” Persephone said slowly, drawing out the word. “That’s the problem. You talk to a lot of Hellcats and Bastards every day. You’ve heard the buzz, right?”
“You’re jealous.” Hap said flatly.
“I shouldn’t be,” Persephone admitted. “I’ve moved on to interceptors and cruisers, and I do enjoy not getting shot down as often as I used to, but dammit Hap, I miss being scout-tackler. I miss the adrenaline buzz and the little ball of ice I get in my gut every time I grab a tiger by the tail.”
“You miss being the adorable new girl.” Hap corrected her.
Persephone frowned and did not reply. Yeah, that too, she thought. She took another sip of her drink.
“You have to move on,” Hap continued. “It’s the order of things. The new pilots get the kamikaze role. That’s how they learn fleet ops and that’s how they learn not to poke hornets’ nests with a stick. Hell, until they learn to fly something else, it’s all they can do anyway.”
“That’s just the thing,” Persephone explained. “She’s not a kamikaze. You know how many times she’s been shot down? Four.”
“Four.”
“Four. Four times. In the same span of time I’d been shot down at least twenty five.” Persephone sighed in frustration. “I don’t mind moving up to a position of greater responsibility, training the new members, and flying interceptors on more complicated missions. It feels good to move up, absolutely. But-”
“But?” Hap asked.
“But dammit, part of the learning process is getting your nose bloodied, your knees scraped, and maybe even waking up in a clone vat once or twice.” Persephone said quickly and with increasing passion. “I learned a lot of valuable lessons the hard way, and I’m a bit perturbed at how gracefully she’s managed to avoid doing that.”
“Maybe she’s a natural,” Hap offered soothingly. “It happens you know. All you can do with a natural is encourage them and try not to get in their way.”
“She’s no natural,” Persephone said with quiet certainty. Her eyes narrowed.
“Oh? How do you know that?” Hap asked, arching his eyebrow and watching Persephone’s body language.
“Because I took her out to Todifrauen and I kicked her ass,” Persephone said joylessly. “I invited her to a one-on-one in frigates, and I pounded her Punisher into scrap. I didn’t even bother activating my three cannons until we’d both reached half shields. Until then, I’d just been plinking her with a rocket launcher. There she was, blasting away for all she was worth, thinking it was a close fight, and then I just cut loose and slagged her.”
“You feel like a heel for doing that, is that it?” Hap asked.
“A little bit,” Persephone replied quickly and quietly.
“Do you still feel threatened by her?” He asked.
“No, not really,” Persephone admitted.
“So let her have the glory for now,” Hap said. He smiled. “Hon, your reputation is made. Get out of the way and let her make hers, too.” He shot her a wink. “Besides, someday soon she’ll sitting in some pub, crying about some new pilot who she took out to the woodshed.”
“Yeah,” Persephone chuckled softly. “Okay. That’s fair. This is just the way of things, isn’t it?”
Hap brushed his hand through his hair, which was shot through with grey streaks. “If it’s ever been any different, I sure don’t remember it.”
I’m sure your wallet doesn’t mind :)
The thrill of being a scout/tackler is always there. I wanted to fly ceptors into combat pretty much since day 1. Working on those first solo ceptor kills.