Acting on Lt. Cmdr. Hardy's instructions, the Ranger rendezvoused with the four planes and then set all speed for Earth.  From Mars, it was still going to take the better part of a couple of weeks...and the shipboard rumor mill buzzed.  Word had gotten out--the SDF-1 was still alive and fighting, and the rumors got refreshed almost daily when radar operators and bridge personnel got off duty and shared quiet tales...

The SDF-1 was in a series of running skirmishes.  The Ranger couldn't tell, directly, because they were long out of range of the sensors...but aberrant energy readings kept popping up, and charting them showed a slow, inexorable zig-zag towards Earth, as if the SDF-1 were an old-style sailing ship, tacking against the headwind of the alien forces.  Each encounter deflected the ship, to some extent...but always, always, there was some degree of forward progress.

This resulted in mixed effects on crew morale.  Some took it as evidence that the aliens were not so formidable, since one ship kept gaining ground against so many.  Others...who had, perhaps, been on the Ranger longer or had seen a clearer picture of the scope of the enemy forces, worried about what happened with the SDF-1 reached Earth and all those ships were once again focused on the planet.

These thoughts roiled, once again, through the mind of Cmdr. Keyes as she sat her shift on the Ranger's bridge.  They were not yet in safe communications range with Earth, so, as yet, only they were aware of the situation with the SDF-1.  And the Ranger hadn't been in touch with Earth for a few weeks, now, and even then, the information passed between the two was largely trivial operational stuff.  She had no clear idea of what the tactical or strategic situation was regarding Earth's ability to defend herself...when they'd been operating near the Moon, earlier, the Ranger's sister ships were going in for upgrades, and there were another two Armor-class carriers being hurried through construction.  The new ships would likely have more conventional fighters and fewer Veritechs, as it was simply more difficult to build Veritechs without the facilities that had been aboard the SDF-1.  Every little bit would help, of course, but...

"Excuse me, Commander..." the communications officer chimed in.  She sighed...the man had almost certainly been one of the biggest culprits with regards to the rumors about the SDF-1's progress...but he was beyond competent with the equipment.  And, frankly, she felt that the morale boost from the updates was worth overlooking the indiscretion.

"What is it, Lieutenant?" she asked, stepping over to stand by his console.

"I'm, ahhhh...I'm not quite sure what to make of this..."  She was about to ask him to clarify when he held out his headphones for her.

With a mental shrug, she took them, cupping one phone against her ear as he played back the message fragment...or whatever it was...that he'd picked up.  As she listened, she scowled...there was plenty of interference, the aliens were still jamming...but now and then, something was almost understandable...

And then her eyes went wide in surprise.  "Wait.  Back that up five seconds and play it again, will you?"  He did...and her brow furrowed again, not sure whether to believe what she thought she heard.

In a low voice, the comms officer said, "So...I wasn't the only one that heard 'Miss Macross competition' out of all of that, then?"  It was bizarre enough that he didn't want it spread around...if it ended up being nothing...or something totally different...people would start accusing him of having been in space too long.

Keyes looked down at the earphones in her hand, as if she didn't trust them.  "Run that through a filter...clean it up and enhance it, however you can...maybe see if Bixby's got anything in his bag of dirty tricks that can make it clearer."

If the SDF-1 is hosting beauty pageants in the middle of all of this...  She shook her head, minutely.  Just what the hell is going on with that ship, anyway?!

Cain sat in darkness.  His cabin light off... not even the solace of the starfield winking at him through the cabin portal brought light to his internal emptiness.  The dog tags on their chain in his hand left a cold empty void in his heart... death might have been preferable.  He had called in sick for his past two scheduled patrols.  Had not been in the simulators, his usual obsession, for days.  Most of the crew avoided him at first because of his occasional short temper, but now he'd sunk into a dark dispair.. and most could not get so much as a frown out of him...

The Recon mission had ended on sharp words of anger... but the real gut-blow had been on his return.

----

He'd walked into the ICU... and immediately all eyes were on him, a combat pilot trained to notice such things gave him warning something was wrong even before the doctor moved to intercept him...

"We're so very sorry Lieut Edwards. It happened only a minute or so after your launch... it was thought best to inform you on your return.  We did everything we could for her... 3rd Lieut. Nina Petrovic... passed at 13:37 hours her brain functions ceasing and her heart went into a unrecoverable arrest and she was declared KIA.  I'm so sorry sir...we know you were her closest family onboard."

----

Cain held her dog-tags in his hand.. all that was left of the step-sister he hardly knew... a chance at connection taken from him...

It was senseless but her death hit him HARD... and he was not one to let others see his tears... but he just could not pull himself out of the nose dive he was in... some part of him didn't want too either...
This message was last edited by the player at 23:06, Fri 29 Mar 2019.

Hanako has been a tiny ball of hopeful anxiety since shortly after they returned to the Ranger.  She has been spotted practicing poses in front of a mirror, running on the treadmill until she missteped and flew backwards, where she then declared she was okay, and putting forth more effort to look cute than she did on shore leave - at least, as cute as one can in uniform.  Sometimes she has no appetite.  Sometimes her appetite is greater than normal.

Whatever is going on, it is messing with her professional demeanor, but at least she is still able to maintain her work ethic.

The only person she has openly confided her worries to is Lucas Bixby (both out of trust and in the hopes he can help confirm the rumors).  Despite her aberrant behavior, she has managed not to tip off why she's so off-kilter, but those who flew with her on the recon mission have the best chance at guessing.

Hardy stepped up to the door...and paused.  He had no idea how this was going to go.  With the news hitting right after they got back, he hadn't had a chance to talk through anything.

But as a CO, and more importantly to him, as a squadron member flying side by side, he couldn't let it keep going on.  He had to do something.  He took a deep breath, closed his eyes for a moment as if saying a silent prayer, and reached out, knocking on the door, quietly but insistently.

"Edwards?  We should talk...and I know you're there."  It was awkward...but this was unfamiliar territory for him, he was making it up as he went.

In reply to Lt.Cdr. Vance Hardy (msg # 4):

There was silence for a few tense moments... then the soft click of an unlatched door...

Then a barely heard, 'Hey. Its open...'

Cain was settling back down on his bunk back to the wall... the room was no more cluttered than before... not that he had much anyways as was normal for Space Navy.  But there were some cloths strewn about the room... not overly messy just carelessly.

Cain was in his flight suit...mostly ~ unzipped to his waist his sweat-stained tank-top beneath unkempt and his mop of sandy blonde hair tousled.  Clear signs... his usual care and keeping was seriously slacking off.  The floor of the cabin was cluttered with his scattered sketch drawings... and all the sketches of Nina were crumpled and stained with smears in clear fits of rage and grief.

His guitar that he cared for so much laid dented and cracked ...where it had been hurled against the bulkhead on the floor... discarded.

When Hardy entered Cain sat on his bunk ~ back to the wall, head down, legs bent, feet on the edge, arms resting on his knees not meeting his eyes.

"...you can save your breath .. I know.. I'm an insubordinate, loud-mouth, screw-up... always have been.. probably always will be.  If you're here to bust my chops about tha' surveillance mission... or my skipped patrols... fine, I'll accept that formal reprimand your rockin' and report to the brig!
Now~ Are we done?"