<div class="floatleft">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/9/95/LtCmdr02Macross2032JPG.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong>Lt. Cmdr. Westmore<br/><strong>Date:</strong>March 11, 2032<br/><strong>Location:</strong>The Roast in Space<br/><strong>With:</strong>Kira, Open<br/><hr/>Lieutenant Commander Westmore had something else than pop music on his mind as he entered the Roast in Space. He had a maintenance report in his hand and what he saw there sat not well with him.<br/><br/>The technicians still hadn't managed to figure out what caused the glitch in his plane's radio. It was nothing that would ground Wizard Oh One, but it was annoying to know that his plane didn't function as well as it should.<br/><br/>Leon Westmore considered himself the best VF pilot on the moon, but how was he supposed to maintain that reputation if his Veritech couldn't keep up with him? And without his reputation, how could he be the commander his squadron looked up to? And without them looking up to him, how could he lead them as the team he expected them to be?<br/><br/>As the door fell shut behind him, Leon drew a deep breath and squared his shoulders, dropped the hand holding the maintenance report by his side as if it were nothing. The first step was to not give a shit – or at least pretend he didn't. It was just a small gripe, nothing major. That was nothing that should faze the CO of Wizard Squadron.<br/><br/>Besides, there were other matters to think about now. Breakfast was one of those matters. The woman serving said breakfast, now that was yet another matter, and one perhaps working on.<br/><br/>"Good morning, Kira," he greeted the Irish lass as he parked himself on a stool at the counter. "Cup of coffee, if you don't mind? Black – just like my soul." He winked and grinned boyishly. "What is that I smell baking?"