[ For the longest time they stood opposite one another, comparable in the eyes of others in almost every way. A sliver of age separated Mako from Chuck, but they were both orphaned children with widowed fathers, kids who grew up in the military because that's what their dads knew and they were destined to be made in their fathers' images. As children they were peers, as cadets they were rivals, and for each step or leap or bound that Chuck took Mako pushed herself to keep the pace, to match his stride (and sometimes excel); to not fall behind.
That changed following graduation, when Chuck was assigned to copilot Striker with his father and Mako's drift stability fell into question again and again. After that, Mako found herself lagging behind while Chuck continued to leap ahead: into the conn-pod and onto the evening news. (—that's Striker Eureka's tenth kill to date—) Two paths that ran in tandem then diverged, one to the neural bridge and one to the engineering bay, but even then their past held them together, a tautly held thread constantly threatening to snap.
Now, however, Mako's not too sure. Becoming one of Gipsy's pilots had brought her and Chuck side by side again after a long absence, but something (maybe it's her, maybe it's Chuck, maybe it's death) seems to have thrown that into imbalance once more. (It's Raleigh, she'll realize the next time she looks at her copilot, her gaze tracing his brow to the slope of his nose and down to his mouth and away again.)
Mako doesn't roll her eyes (she hasn't since she was a child) but maybe the desire is there. ] I had help.
no subject
That changed following graduation, when Chuck was assigned to copilot Striker with his father and Mako's drift stability fell into question again and again. After that, Mako found herself lagging behind while Chuck continued to leap ahead: into the conn-pod and onto the evening news. (—that's Striker Eureka's tenth kill to date—) Two paths that ran in tandem then diverged, one to the neural bridge and one to the engineering bay, but even then their past held them together, a tautly held thread constantly threatening to snap.
Now, however, Mako's not too sure. Becoming one of Gipsy's pilots had brought her and Chuck side by side again after a long absence, but something (maybe it's her, maybe it's Chuck, maybe it's death) seems to have thrown that into imbalance once more. (It's Raleigh, she'll realize the next time she looks at her copilot, her gaze tracing his brow to the slope of his nose and down to his mouth and away again.)
Mako doesn't roll her eyes (she hasn't since she was a child) but maybe the desire is there. ] I had help.
[ Who was yours? ]