Jayleigh tilted her head upwards a bit as she looked at Gerald 
again with that penetrating stare. I hope Random's right, Gerald thought.
She doesn't actually look mad, though, almost as if she's...interested?
Nah, couldn't be. Could it? He dared a lot in the next few seconds, looking
straight back into her eyes.

        He saw something? Something. This was crazy! She was the
warrenlady!

        <Verrry good. Now, who are you?>

        *That's not funny.* Inside, he was thinking about life as a
cartwright's appprentice, the strictness of his upbringing...how could
he even consider such an immoral thing?

        <You know better than that. You accepted how things were in a 
warren soon after you got here. You know things are different. I wish 
I could understand just why humans have these kinds of problems. If it
makes you happy, why fight it?>

        *Maybe I just imagined it.*

        <I don't think so.> Jayleigh had turned to go, but at that moment 
she stopped, turned back to him, and pulled his head down for a kiss.

        "Thank you, Gerald, for last night. You'll never know how much
it meant to me." With that, she left.

        <See?>

        *I guess.* His mind reeled with the possibility; thinking very
hard about something he dared not think even a day ago, he tidied up
the mess they had made and left.

        On the way to G'ther's apartment, he caught himself whistling 
the tune he had composed for her. Damn, he was going to have to watch 
that. Knocking politely on the door, he heard G'ther's bellow to enter.
Going in, he saw an amazing collection of weapons, some looking quite
antique, laying about in confusion.

        "What's all this?" he asked, then "Sir," he added hastily.

        "Don't call me sir."

        "Huh? I alway have before."

        "That was before you became wingleader."

        It took a moment for the cold shock to run it's course through 
him. "No, you're the wingleader."

        "No, you are. I was waiting for this. Tell me, what do you think
about Desr'y taking over the wing?"

        "I suppose he could be effective." He kind of doubted it, though;
the sandy-haired elite flightleader was still rather young and not known
for his ability to lead. He was more of a tactical person.

        "I suppose he could, too, but I was illustrating a point. Despite
your being shy, something you're really going to have to get rid of, 
you are simply the best candidate to lead Gamma. I was waiting for your
signal."

        "What signal?"

        "What did I tell you to do when I went to Loman?"

        "Uh, carry out that exercise. I'm sorry about that but-"

        "But you had an idea, which you pursued over my orders, and you
were vindicated by its outcome. I'm not berating you, lad. I was waiting 
for you to promote yourself. As far as I'm concerned, you lead Gamma now."

        "But I..." He was about to say that he didn't want it at all, but
that wasn't true, was it? He just simply didn't think he was capable.
Then, what G'ther said to him came to the fore; he was the most qualified.

        "What if I mess things up?"

        "You won't. You haven't yet, and I've put you in charge many times.
Also, boy, I'm not leaving; I'm just retiring. I'll be here to give you
advice whenever you want it."

        "But becoming wingleader is more than just an internal succession!"

        "That's right. You have to be confirmed by the rest of the 
wingleaders and by the Warrenlady. Tell you what, let's go see Jayleigh
now before you drill the wing-what's the matter, boy, you're whiter than
a fish's belly."

        "Jayleigh?"

        "She makes the final decision. What's wrong with you? Did you 
have a fight with her?"

        "Well, no..."

        A wicked gleam appeared in G'ther's eye. "Who won Viktroy's mating
flight yesterday, by the way?"

        "Random did."

        G'ther threw back his head and guffawed. "No wonder! I guess you're 
in for it then. Poor Jayleigh. All morning long people have been telling
her to watch out for this and look out for that...and snickering whenever
she falls for it. At least the ones who have the guts to do so! We better
talk to her before she decides to take out *your* guts for harp strings!
Come with me."  

        G'ther quickly dragged Gerald into the Jayleigh's office, where
she stared at them both in suprise.

        "Don't you ever knock, G'ther?"  She studiously avoided Gerald's
eyes for a moment.

        "I'm ready to retire and go fishing. And maybe swing a sword at
a few students."

        "You came barging in here just to say that? You need to wait until
we get a replacement for Gamma Wing."

        "The waiting's over. Here he is!" With that, G'ther shoved Gerald
in the small of his back, so that the harpist nearly fell over Jayleigh's
desk. Inches from her face, Gerald half-smiled at her apologetically.
====================

Tag, Barb!

nrpg: Desr'y: elite flighleader for Gamma. Age 18, 5'10", sandy blonde
hair, violet eyes, 170lb. Able tactician, not affected by vertigo or
violent movements in the air at all. Fairly good painter, draws and
paints all the time. Spends much time adding designs and ornamentation
to everything from acid-etching swords to carving into leather saddles to
brushing on canvas.
        Dragon: Javangath: 55'long, 2 yrs. old, darkish blue with royal
blue stripes. Rather timid dragon, but is effective in helping to 
drill other dragons in the specialized flying formations.

	Respectfully submitted by:
	Allen Veazey
	wolf@dbtech.net
	Warrenlady Phaedra and Melith (Geode)
	Gerald and Random (Daere)
	Ash'chenon  (Telnor)
	B'rand and Rook (Cleft)
	Geode Warren Page: http://www.geocities.com/Athens/Acropolis/3043/crystal.html
	
     "Fortunately, ah keep mah feathers numbered for just such an emergency."
			--Foghorn Leghorn