The room was large, and housed all sorts of recreation for the Command School students. Ping pong tables, air hockey, chess, checkers, backgammon and other board games, pugil sticks for the fighting simulator, and all manner of other electronic strategy and coordination-based games.

Against the back wall were four pods, the interface for the combat simulator. With only four pods instead of the normal seventeen in the large simulation rooms, nothing larger than a cell could practice, but it was fun for soldiers from other armies to get together, fighting each other or working as a team.

Perhaps a challenge, perhaps not. He'd never been turned away before. Nicolai always, always got his way. That self-serving arrogant, egotistical attitude had gotten him far-- through battleschool, now as a right-hand man for his quad commander. He'd advanced through his classes quickly, now an early navigational major. Nic had all he wanted. And now, he wanted this girl.

Strolling quickly over toward the simulators, he slipped into the pod next to her with a smirk on his face. Donning the headset and selecting himself a single-pilot fighter, he settled back against the seat and fiddled with the controls. Like all things, Nic excelled at the simulator. Time to show off for his prey.

Another fighter.

The mission she'd selected was basically an orientation. There was no reason for any other ships to be there, unless there was someone else in the simulator. After studying the screen for a moment, she located the simulator link indicator in the top right-hand corner of the screen. Two ships of four were lit, not just one.

Perfect.

She reached for the headset and put it on in time to hear "...just a hello to such a beautiful girl... care to play, sweetheart?"

Her lip curled in distaste. Few of the boys in battleschool had ever had the nerve to approach her. Jor had been something of a special situation. Since then, no one had come near her, and right now she wasn't in the mood to deal with ANY boys, much less some moron buggerbait trying to kill her in the simulator.

But Nic liked the fiesty ones.

Ignoring his comments, she dove away from him, down into the starry void. An obstruction loomed, and she looped around it - some sort of asteroid or other obstacle. She cut her forward drive for a split second, and the back of her ship swung backwards, turning her ship about, and when the other fighter came around the corner, she fired a volley that scored glancingly on his left engine before he darted away. It only caused cosmetic damage, but it made her point, and she followed him as he retreated.

"A little clumsy, aren't we?" she said into the headset, smirking.

Bianca targeted and fired. Her target was obviously a newbie, and used the smaller jets to maneuver out of the way. Her attack hit the right engine, and the rest of the fighter exploded in a plume of fire and smoke and then disappeared, while the pods rumbled a little with the force of the explosion that the end pod transmitted.

His playmate's ship was suddenly blasted away, exploding with such force that his own fighter rocked slightly. Bianca's voice came through, taunting. "Nothing to it, Jor. Let's see you take the other one, eh?" Nic smirked to himself. Bring it on, beetcha...

He threw his fighter into a spinning bank just as Jor fired at him. Too easy to destroy this one yet, so he flipped a few circles, cutting close then spinning away. The other boy was learning, quickly, but was still too slow to escape as Nic flew his fighter upside down and cut loose his missiles. The ship blew in a dazzling array of flame, and with a laugh, Nic turned to the other fighter.

"Long time no see, Bianca..." He dodged her quick counter-attack, turning in a quick loop that placed him straight behind her. He could hear her quiet curse, which turned to an exclamation as he blasted her away too. No enemies left. What a fun game.

Scouts had little armor and little weaponry, but they were extremely maneuverable and had superior sensor arrays. There were rumors he'd taken scouts through all of the single-fighter missions, and even through some of the multi-fighter missions successfully.

So she wasn't really upset, just irritated that her little training lesson had been disrupted. "Don't you have anything better to do than interrupt a training session, Nicolai?" Jor's head appeared as he stepped out of his pod, looking angry. "Jor, this is Nicolai, one of the little navigational addicts I was telling you about. He runs the scout for Phoenix Quad."

Jor's hissed intake of breath when he spotted her earned him a fiery glare, and if he hadn't been leaning against the pod beside Bianca, he probably would have taken a step back. What had he done wrong? If anything, she was to blame, shoving him away like that and now acting as if he were the bad guy. He loved her. Maybe she didn't love him.

That thought made his serpentine eyes narrow, even as he felt a rush of remorse. He could just imagine what she was thinking right now, seeing him with Bianca, his commander all cozying up. But another rush of angry fire erupted, and for a moment, Jor didn't care. He just set his features resolutely, squared his shoulders, and gave Wick stare for stare.

Bianca looked the girl over. Not much to recommend her. No real defined figure, no art in her hair style. Her skin was really too pale to hold any sort of blush. Her eyes seemed unnaturally vivid in the pale background, her hair too black. She did have a sort of poise, but it was what Bianca associated with the boys, not the girls, a dynamic aggressiveness that seemed out of place in the slender girl. Her face might have been pretty, if she hadn't been so very pale, if her eyes weren't such a harsh contrast. Under Bianca's terms, not a very attractive girl.

Not much competition.

When Jor questioned her, she knew exactly what to say.

And so Nicolai slid close to a still fuming Wick, slipping an arm around her waist before she could protest. He pulled her along as he started to stride from the game arena, his strong fingers holding her belt loop securely. Aggressiveness had gotten him everywhere. He doubted she'd resist for long.

And then Nicolai was touching her, putting his arm around her waist, babbling some idiocy about getting a drink together or something. He was also half-dragging her across the floor, his fingers locked in her beltloops.

Wick had had enough.

No one, that is, until this Wick girl.

Nicolai was pissed. But he was also unwillingly intrigued. This one was definitely a challenge, and having always gotten his way, he had little doubt as to his eventual success. It wasn't the end product that excited him, however. It was the thrill of the hunt. And this promised to be a very fun chase.

"You're right. Screw this. Computer, Level 36." That gave them 10 opponents with relatively smart AI pilots, superior armament and faster drives.

Somewhere around level 63 they were finally destroyed, but Helen had gone the last two levels almost by herself. Castor's ship had been massively crippled by then, and he'd just been tagging along, firing at safe targets when he could. When the enemy finally managed to kill them it was with a cluster bomb, and took out several of the enemy ships as well.

He peeled his headset off and sat back. He had no idea what time it was. He could barely remember his name. He'd never gotten the computer to go that far before. Helen was nothing short of phenomenal.

Sasha was already there, awake and alert and looking impatient to be done with this foolishness. He eyed Helen coldly and then turned back to Castor. "Alright, get her in the simulator. Nicolai's waiting."

One of the simulator pods was already closed.

And true. No one had ever beaten, or gotten close to beating, Nicolai at the sim. He was the best, pure and simple. Like he told people who didn't appreciate his attitude-- cocky and arrogant for a reason. Because he always, always won.

He could hear his opponent put on her headset, and with a sardonic, smooth voice he spoke to her. "Ready to be blown away, little sweetheart? I hear your defeat coming already..." With a quick slap, Nicolai punched the start button on his sim and the scenario began. He had his scout, and could see the enemy in the distance.

The mission ran smoothly, like clockword. He'd been through every level of the sim before, and this was child's play at first, his scout blowing through each level with ease. Toward the upwards of Level 80, however, even Nicolai had to concentrate solely on his display, driving closer, sneaking behind planets and into hidden obstacles with caution. Wary and even angry that he'd had to fight some greenhorn this early in the morning, before he'd had time for proper warmup, he plunged on, gradually growing more daring and risky with his scout.

And then... "Goddamnit!" Nicolai cursed wildly into his headset, a tirade of obscenity as he was blown away. Level 98, two from winning the entire simulator again. Throwing his headset angrily against the display, he threw open the pod door, surprised to see a large group of soldiers standing around, staring at the overhead screen. A little of his arrogant attitude dropped, just for a moment, wondering if the girl had beaten him. But no, she was already out of her pod, and with a cocky wink at her, Nicolai settled down and ran a hand through his hair.

Helen was a little jumpy at first. She hadn't flown the Scout model before, but the controls were the same. It just went a lot faster and did less damage. He could tell when she got the hang of it. He wished the pods weren't closed in. He liked to watch her face when she dropped into the level between concentration and trance as she really set to work.

Fifty levels. Sixty. Sixty-five.

Sasha's mouth fell open, his eyes round as saucers as he watched Helen move through the levels.

At seventy-eight it looked like she was done for, but she managed to fall back in time and hit the supply ship just before the next level began.

When she finally got blown away at the very end of eight-nine, Sasha was strangely silent for someone who'd been so eager to have the girl out of his army. Castor went to help Helen out of the pod as Nicolai continued his fight alone.

Sasha had recovered by the time Castor brought her over. She was a little shaky, but she stood at attention anyway. Sasha looked her over. She wasn't much to look at. Too young for his taste, anyway. But for her second day on the station, what she'd just done with the simulator wasn't a talent. It was a gift. Before everything else, Sasha was a commander, and this was one resource he was not willing to waste.

He turned away. "Scout," he growled, shaking his head.

What Sasha had said took a minute to kick in... she'd done it! Nicholai was still in the sim though, Sasha watching the monitor intently. Helen greatfully let Castor guide her to a chair and sat down. Her legs felt like jello, but at least she was out of the sim pods. She rolled her shoulders back a few times, getting the kinks out. She'd have to get used to this if this is how long battles lasted.

She smiled to Castor, "Thanks for sticking around. It was nice to know that someone was cheering for me out here." Helen turned when she heard the second pod open and Nicholai walk out.

"What'did I say, eh, darlin'? Looks like I won this round... don't waste my time again, Sasha. Find the Hydra scout to do your work."

The other girl, on the other hand, looked absolutely useless. Sasha sighed. It was uphill battle, being commander. The administration loved to pull the rug out from under you just when you were finally happy with who you had.

Kevo caught his breath, very uncharacteristically bewildered at the sight of the young black-haired girl in one of the pods. Gods, who was she... her features seemed European, but her skin was as olive as had been the ancient princesses' of Polynesia and Malay... her eyes were soft and intelligent, as green as the Pacific at high noon. Strange that Kevo still thought of home after all this time... even stranger were the things that reminded him of it.

Tony on the other hand was by no means intimidated by any woman's presence, and this situation was no different. With the slick grace of a snake, he slid up to where the spike-haired blonde one sat in her cockpit and laid on rich his Italian accent. "Donna amore... Hey, girl, wassup...?" He ducked deftly down into the pod with her, not for a single moment releasing her entrancing turquoise eyes from his gaze. Picking her hand up, Tony brought it closer and brushed it against his lips, smiling gently even though the girl was looking at him in disdain. He had Bryo to thank for that move. Fuck Oris and his "Tony can't pimp" shit- what the hell did the man think this was, servicing?

"Vat zay yoo, Pallaz... vee teech deez greeyaz hoo can flyee bettaire? Geet oot, flazhboy, and coom fight uz... dat eez, unlezz yoo be afreed uv loozeeng to uz gurlz..." her tone was taunting, mocking even as she ran her gaze over this handsome Italian boy who'd managed to slide his way into her pod. Arrogant, cocky, someone who thought he was so smooth and could always get his way... well, Antonio hadn't met the likes of Swede. She didn't like anyone.

Which made it even more fun to toy with him.

She watched their exchange with mild amusement. Swede must be in a good mood today. The boy had been in close proximity for almost ten seconds and only suffered a light slap to the cheek.

"My name is Antonio. How would you lovely girls feel about playing a game against me and my brother Kevo here?"

Her eyes flicked to the boy standing next to Swede's pod. He had soft-looking black hair and brown eyes, and looked Polynesian, and a good three inches taller than her. He was looking at her with a strange, wistful expression that made her want to watch him longer, but Swede's invitation drew her attention away.

The game began, the two girls' enemy fliers appeared not too far away on the display. Tony rushed in first, Kevo following more cautiously behind. Now, it must be explained that in any situation where Jayde graduates are put on the same fleet against a common enemy, there occurs a certain phenomena that enables them to know each others' motives, their tactics and habits so effectively and flawlessly that they seem to have the same mind. It was an essential part of Jayde training for each man to know his men so well that they are able to work as one being, always aware of every unit the way the Formics had been aware of theirs. It had been a theory that Ryan's father had elaborated to this point; so far it seemed to have been a stroke of genius. When the time came, the brothers would be able to equal their enemy's lethal military union and double it, for even if they did not have the true single mind that the buggers dominated, they also had human initiative and individuality on their side when it would be needed. In this situation, Kevo knew that Tony would be quick, ruthless and brilliant if rather rash, but he he himself could be the remedy for that. And Tony knew that Kevo would keep his calm analytical genius no matter how heated combat could become, and that he could always be counted upon to be aware of the enemy's approach to their offense. The sound of intensely focused, prodigious silence- it was the Warcry of Jayde. Now... if only they could beat these girls without making them too angry...

Davn watched his brothers have at it with the two girls for several moments... It was amazing that as huge a jackass as Tony had been being before the game started, that was how much a part of the single mind he had become once it began... same as Kevo's tolerant annoyance seemed to dissipate with this common goal. Davn knew- with much to prove it- that he himself was an essential part of their Jayde oneness, but he was just as aware that the moment this indoctrinated phenomena dispersed, he was once again the most separate brother in the group, the only one who didn't enjoy the superior constriction of their brotherhood. As alienated a brother as Ryan himself could in fact be. Anybody who was not in this situation could not possibly imagine the extreme loneliness of being apart from a unity that one is supposedly a forged member of, that has been the center of one's life. And it didn't help that personality tests had long ago diagnosed Davn as the most empathic boy out of them all.

Suddenly, the Jayde's thoughts were bluntly interrupted by the shock of a heavy object colliding with the side of his head. "Hijo de puta, which of you bichinos-" Davn's eyes blazed for a moment until he saw the VR-game headgear laying on the ground, Mika above it, that perpetually mischevious grin alight on his roguish features. "They didn't have this tyte shit in JA or BS," the boy crowed in delight, pulling his own set over his jet black hair and onto his face. "Come on, Jayde, you want to play or not?" It was a fighting game that used VR and force fields to simulate a combat experience... a player got to pick weapons, costume and setting before a robotically enthusiastic voice yelled, "Ready, set, go!" and the opponents could fight it out in a cleared area using their own physical skills and martial arts ability. Davn had selected an Egyptian background and a Zorro-like getup with a long, thin, Spanish rapier for a weapon, while Mika had chosen a ninja-looking garb with nothing to use for defense but his hands. Davn smiled wryly at his brother's confidence. "Dammit, hombre, you tryin' commit suicide or some shit? Or are you tryin' insult me, that be it?" Mika smirked in innocent cockiness and shrugged the comment away. "Eh, brah, I studied this kickass the same way you studied yours at the Academy and the School. It be fair, neh? You gonna keep burnin our gametime?" An art it was, with the both of them. The low stances and lighting fast blows of Mika's karate and tae kwon do served him like a tiger in coil; and Davn could handle that ancient weapon like a savage's dance. Nothing to do with the Formics, these skills- nothing akin to battle in space, most people would say. But why did an IF student's life have to be about those things and them only? To hell with that- Davn was not going to live his days as a mindless pawn for the failed soldiers of yesterday.

As it turned out, neither of the boys won- the time ran out and the veiw cleared back into the Game Arena, allowing sight of Bryo as he stood clapping in approval at the edge of the ring. "Eh, good beatin', my brothas. Who won- I wanna try this shit out. See if I can karate-size this machine in the Jayde way, neh?" Davn handed the boy his own gear and stepped out of the ring, calling lightly past his shoulder as he exited the Game Arena, "Hell to that, hombre. The day you trade in your street-kickass for Mika's game is the day I beat your ass in singin' da crap of those primordial Temptations bitches." He ducked out into the hall with the sounds of Bryo's defiantly garbling voice following him as he went, Mika's voice joining into the echoes as he headed away.

She ranged away from Swede enough to draw a bead on them from the side. Swede could dance through fire much better than she could. Pallas was better at threading her way silently below enemy radar to attack. This wasn't the first time they'd teamed up together, and they almost always won.

Antonio's fighter immediately darted forward to engage Swede, but the other fighter didn't follow as she had expected. Maybe he was still working out the controls...but the small adjustments the fighter made told her he was just setting his sensors up. She raised an eyebrow. Most greens immediately dived in and tried to kill anything that moved, like his flashy brother.

Brothers. Those two couldn't possibly have blood ties, but they were Jaydes. She knew enough about the earthside military school to respect that kind of loyalty, but she questioned its merit in this setting. How could loyalty above and beyond the IF strengthen the ranks?

Her thoughts were interrupted as the stationary enemy fighter slowly began to rotate towards her position. Impossible. He couldn't know she was there. The limitations of the scanners didn't allow for it, hidden as she was behind the asteroid obstructions she'd chosen as her cover. Unless he'd tracked her from the beginning and then somehow calculated her current location, there was no possible way. He must be panning to get a better view of the starfield before he joined his brother in the attack on Swede.

The nose of his craft came to a stop as he ceased rotating and slowly began advancing towards her hidden ship.

Startled, Pallas gave ground.

She reversed her fighter's drive, backing silently through the asteroid field, rotating as she went to send her in a graceful curve. Below her vessel she could see the flickers of laser fire as Swede and Tony danced back and forth, chasing each other about. It hadn't taken that Jayde long at all to learn the little fighter, and Swede was beginning to pay for toying with him and giving him the time to figure it out. Swede was still well ahead of him, though...for now. He didn't know all the tricks she'd had time to learn and perfect...but he was picking them up fast.

She returned her gaze to her own opponent and blinked.

He was gone.

"Scata..." she emitted a rare curse in quiet Greek and immediately punched her engines up as high as they would go without overheating. Her ship jerked and blasted away, just in time to avoid the first round of cluster bombs that Kevo sent her way from somewhere above her. Her element of surprise was blown, and her face was grim as she brought her ship around in a graceful arc and fired a combination sally of laser and missile that scored only peripherally as he coasted his fighter to the side, one of his engines beginning to glow a brighter red as the laser shot melted some of its casing. It would slow him down, but not nearly enough, and now he knew how fast her attack was.

His next volley almost took off her sensor array and she was forced to fall back and drop away into the nebula below her.

Nebula fighting was an art that she was still mastering, but she knew more about it than this remarkably precocious Jayde boy. The little shields the fighters employed were useless in a nebula, and the sensors tended to malfunction. Too much interference.

She was just beginning to feel comfortable again when an ominous flare in her rear view made her jet to the side and scan for all she was worth.

Four new ships, shaky in the scanner's reduced nebula display, had just coasted into the starfield. The computer hadn't cleared the request for enemy fighters, and they'd been too busy fighting each other to notice it.

Time to invite the others along.

"It appears we have some unexpected company, gentlemen," she spoke into the headset even as she wheeled her fighter 180 degrees and fled towards the edge of the nebula as the second set of enemy ships came in from above, their lasers barely clearing her exhaust. "I think our personal disagreement might need to be postponed." Swede's cursing was plainly audible as she took in the new information. "Yoo Jaydzee lai dee foock oof til vee zvat deze bugz, neh?"

She blasted out of the cloud then, only her speed allowing her to escape Kevo's waiting laser attack. She didn't bother pausing, just dived down towards Antonio, still merrily chasing Swede. One of her light lasers scored on his side - no real damage, just enough to get his attention. "Did you hear me, Jayde?"

And then the buggers were on them.

There were eight of them, and only four human fighters, two of which were relatively green. The AI that ran these was relatively intelligent, too, and their weaponry was comparable.

They crushed them anyway.

Tony's fighting ability was very similar to Swede's. He took ridiculous chances and came away practically unscathed most of the time. Kevo was proving to be nearly as adept as she was at laying traps and cutting the enemy to pieces in hiding, and together they took out three of them with one double set of cluster bombs.

They killed the last pair of buggers as a group, Swede and Antonio leading them and Kevo and Pallas slitting their throats from behind.

When the unaccented female voice suddenly announced over his headset that another enemy was approaching, Kevo's blood hit a state of ecstasized intensity and eyes burned bright with the exhilaration of dangerous combat. He flipped open the connection to the other pods' earpieces only to find that Tony had beaten him to it- "Eh, donnas, you don't fly half so bad for a couple of ladies who are too pretty to be breakin' their nails on the joysticks, neh?" The Swedish accent answered coyly into the headpiece; Tony could feel the slap of a hand in that girl's voice. "Yoo Jaydzee lai dee foock oof til vee zvat deze bugz, neh?" His brow rising, the Jayde restricted his headset connection to just himself and Kevo long enough to ask, "What the fuck did that bitch just say?" Laughing lightly, Kevo replied that he hadn't the slightest damn idea. Tony switched back and listened for anything else the swedechick might say. He sure as hell couldn't understand her, but something about that voice was just so goddamn sexy...

The four of them worked together. Tony and Kevo Jayde worked together with two pubescent females to beat out the computer NPC buggers... it was like Jayde-heresy. Ryan could have had their asses for this. But when the pods lifted their covers and Tony caught sight of the blonde one's breasts bouncing as she slapped winners' hands with her friend, he couldn't have given the slightest damn. He leapt deftly out of his cockpit and strolled over to her, an arm placed slickly around her waist before she could stop it, and he put his lips up to her ear, whispering, "Talk to me again, baby. Say anything; let me hear that sexy voice one last time."

Practically throwing herself from the pod, Swede grinned widely, slapping Pallas's hand in triumph. They'd fought together for months in Griffin, had played the sim endlessly in battle, but this little tussle with those two Jayde boys eclipsed all that. Her turquoise eyes were shining victoriously up until the moment Tony slid his arm around her waist and begin to whisper into her ear.

Swede gave no indication that his presence annoyed her, finding oddly that his cocky attitude was more amusing than irritating. And while her glance toward Pallas told the other girl exactly what she thought of this handsome, arrogant flyboy, she just turned to flutter her eyelashes at him again flirtatiously. Laying a hand on his chest, she shoved him away suddenly and smiled coyly at him, flicking the spikes from her eyes carelessly as she winked.

"What's your name?"

The smooth, almost hypnotic voice pulled her head around to meet the gaze of the other Jayde boy...Kevo, his brother had called him. The depth in those brown eyes was spell-binding. He was quieter than his brother, and the intensity she sensed beneath the surface made her smile despite herself, captivated.

Pallas struggled to keep her smile small, controlled, but her eyes warmed a little despite her best efforts. No one at the battleschool had ever shown any recognition of the nickname she carried, and now this Jayde veg from god-knows-where had named her without even blinking.

"Thank you," she managed, her voice calm, but a tell-tale blush crept up and stained her cheeks a pale dusky rose.

Swede's voice brought back her control, and as she turned to respond her blush was nearly gone. "What? Oh. Of course." She looked back at Kevo, her eyes still a little warm as she fell back into her usual reserved cool manner. "Nice meeting you, Kevo. We'll see you around, neh?" It would be a tactical mistake to show too much interest this early in the opening. She would wait until she learned more about him first. The Jaydes were notoriously violent and closed to outside influence. There was no point in making a fool of herself.

Tony watched Swede and Pallas leave with injured disgust written deep into his dark features. He strode over to Kevo, a few strands of wavy black hair falling onto his face as he shook his head. "Zveede. What kind of shitassed name is that? Fuck, it sounds like something I could smoke. Hell, I am gonna smoke that bitch, don't make any mistake of that, brah."