Jo continues her mini-fashion rant. “Our Milky Way elders visit us and complain about how cool and better fitted our armor is, but then they do nothing about it, as if I’m going to suddenly have cats from Siberia 47 as my parents by Missy or Fiona Sakuro suddenly adjusting the belts on their uniforms so they’re not hugging them above the belly button. I know they get away with the look because the entire uniform downplays the uncomfortably high belt on their persons, but that doesn’t stop them from griping about it, ha ha.” Okay, rant over…I think.
Poking Rocket’s blue belt and comparing it with her own, Mercy concludes, “I imagine the older SGs don’t actually feel it since they can adjust their level of discomfort using their Infinite powers. They probably only say something about it to remind themselves of what it used to be like when they were pitiful, frail humans.”
Very precisely guiding Merc’s finger away from her bubble, Angel Rocket says, “You make the originals sound like high and mighty nobles, looking down on the regular people of the universe. If I didn’t understand the concept of teasing, I’d be offended.”
“Pff,” Red scoffs, “don’t let Rocket fool you. She’s quite the clown herself, even if she is still coming out of her shell.”
“Speaking of which,” Jo says, pointing at Rocket’s helmet, “If her head were to come out of its shell, uh, in a normal context, you would see this is the Lyger Galaxy version of the CFA legend Angel. Red Fire is…the Lyger Galaxy version of someone, I’m sure. I just don’t know of whom.”
Gigi quickly adds with a shiver, “Please don’t take your head out of its shell.”
Referring back to Jo’s comments, Fire says, “Well, that’s mean.” Red then lightly taps her foot forward, pretending to kick dust at Jocelyn. “I don’t think it has anything to do with my looks, but we were both told, in good old AB’s ceremonial fashion, that our helmets were designed after someone very special and loved by many throughout the System.”
And the group says, “Christen Todd!”
“Blue Cathartes,” Kammy specifies.
“Well, I have no idea who that is,” Fire regretfully admits, “but I do know she’s one special lady, so I’m loving that we can carry on her legacy in our galaxy.” This wording almost brings a tear to the eyes of a student or two.
Elfie best sums it up by saying, “I hope I do a good enough job in my life that my testimony goes on like that when I’m gone.” Sure, this works a tad differently for PACs, but they all have as much free will as my cerebral programming can give them, so making sure they are good examples for one another is very important.
“Hey,” Rocket says, looking around, “has anyone seen Jovo yet?”
“Do you mean from the Milky Way or is there one from here?” Kammy asks. She also thinks of Tonya Sutle but doesn’t feel like bringing that name up again.
“No,” Rocket replies, “we have our own. She’s a sweet kid, but kind of old for all the tea parties she throws with her teddy bears.”
“Fitting, given what we know about the original,” Gigi states.
Taking her blaster out to examine her upgraded weapon, Red Fire informs her pal, “Jovo told me this class was cancelled today, so she was going to take a long nap. I’d wake her up but I’m not stupid, so she’ll just have to gripe when she wakes up, or stop being lazy and dependent, and learn how to do her own space travel. Whoa! This blaster was hand-signed by Missy! Cool!!”
“Really?!” Rocket yanks out the blaster on her own left holster, as that was the side Fire’s signed gun was on for her. “Aww! What makes you so special!” Angel’s gun was obviously not signed.
Inner Man Theatre 