RP XSDF Roleplay Thread: Vanguard of Forseti

[Frostlich1228]

Part 2

Nick chuckled at his friend and he waved James to follow him. Taking out his access card, he opened up the door to engineering and led the soldier to his office and asked him to wait while he looked for the parts. In the center of the room was a massive robot with panels open showing the complicated and intricate circuitry and other inner workings. It showed just how experienced Nick was.

“So… Sixteen huh? How long have you been doing… This.” Fancypants replied, looking up at the robot.

“Uh...two years.” He told James, half hidden as he was dangling in a crate. “I had a little help from some of the other engineers on Megha but only a little. I may be a genius but I have my faults!” Grumbling a bit, he moved on to the next crate. “He still needs work though…”

“Damn. Is it finished yet or are you still working out the kinks?” James asked, walking up to it and taking a closer look.

“Uh...some kinks. Close, but not as much as I would have liked. You know what they say though, can’t rush perfection!”

“Depends how good you are. Wouldn’t mind helping you with this thing sometime, an expert hand always makes things move along.” Fancypants said, tilting his head up a little.

“Sorry, but even though I did get a little help I would prefer to see this done myself. He is just one of those things that I would like to say I did completely without much outside influence. My other drone, Buzzer was too small for me to do completely do and I didn’t know a thing about optics at the time so I got help with that and for Ratchet I need help with his design and assembly. Clunker there will be my first real accomplishment next to Glitch and my implants.” Getting out from the crate, he brought a small box of assorted parts and scrap metal and handed them to James. “Besides, I...don’t really think you could help me to be honest. I had to be really smart to get my job here...and...I...am not saying you aren’t smart but...well...I think you get my point...I hope.” Looking to the side he just kept silent.

James sighed, “I’ll have you know I took a soldier role on purpose… If I wanted to be in engineering all I would’ve had to do was ask. I don’t like being left out of the action, you can’t honestly tell me that you don’t feel a little jealous that you can’t be a part of the teams fighting off all of those vicious pirates.”

“Not at all...I respect you guys for what you do but I would never want to fight out there...just not me.” Giving a small awkward smile he asked, “Well, you have the parts...will...that be all?”

“Doesn’t have to be. We engineers should stick together, right? Most of the other ones don’t seem to like me very much, wonder why…” A smug look grew on his face, “Must be jealous of my charming personality and good looks.”

“Uh...yeah…” Nick agreed, a little uncomfortable. “Well...if I...ever need your help I will...call for you…”

“Yeah… Right.” James coughed, “You don’t get out much, do you?”

“Is it that obvious?” Nick asked, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Yeah… Yeah it kinda is…” James responded, “We need to take you drinking. We as in me… Getting drunk always improves confidence… Or gets you in a shit ton of trouble because you sold your neighbor's cat to a convict- abeh… Anyway.”

“Well...uh...I don’t think Irina would approve of me drinking...besides, I would need an adult…”

“I am an adult...” He added, “And who’s Irina? Girlfriend?”

“No, no, no, no, no, no!” Nick said in protest, shaking his head. “I-I would highly doubt she doesn’t see me a nuisance already...but she works here as a doctor and I don’t think underage drinking would really get me on her good side…”

“Well, the drinking limit is really just a rule to stop teenagers who aren’t mature enough to handle it from making stupid decisions. I think if you can piece together a gigantic war machine you can handle a few beers, but maybe that’s just me.” James shrugged.

“I...I think I am not...confident enough to drink yet…” Nick scratched his cheek in modesty.

“Eh, suit yourself. I’d better get out of here before anyone gets any weird ideas about why I’m spending this much time alone with a teenager.” He turned towards the door with the box in his hands.

As James left and the door shut behind him, Glitch floated in front of Nick, staring at the door before turning back to Nick. “I don’t like him.”

“What? He is at least...different. If I talked to the same people all the time...or you for that matter I would probably lose it. I hope Alice gets done with her job though...kind of lonely without my roommate.”

“You sleep most of the time in here anyways, Mr. Cauthon...that is the whole reason we brought a cot in here.” The A.I. informed the engineer.

Looking over at the aforementioned item underneath the line of tables to the side of the office, Nick just shrugged. “Still...not everyday you get to hang with a full fledged android!”

“Not everyday you hang out with a bad influence either…”

Chuckling, Nick pushed away Glitch and he grabbed a wrench off his tool rack, walking over to Clunker and continuing his work.

 

[MarineAvenger]

Artificial Expectations (MarineAvenger and Andrammalech)

January 30th, 2044
The Einherjar
9:30 A.M
Holo-Rec Room

Ezra walked along the Martian surface, looking around at the dusty red that was the mysterious red planet. Not so mysterious since we colonized the damn thing and made it a massive farm. There was a particular appeal to the planet surfaces before their colonization to Ezra, though the specific reason why eluded him. Climbing up on a small hill, he looked out and saw the horizon, Earth seeming so far away and then sun even farther, but still glowing brightly. “Too damn peaceful...maybe that is why I keep coming back here.” He didn’t move from the spot, just crossing his arms and continuing to look out into space with a slight breeze carrying sand.

Khorochar was busy systematically checking every room on the ship, a daily routine he did for most of every day, exploring the various labs, bunks, and closets with equal enthusiasm as he marveled in XSDF’s titanic ship. He stepped into the holoroom and looked around slowly, taking in the artificial planetary projections. As his eyes fell on Ezra, he saw an opportunity to dust off his human greetings, and approached him with a rigid look.

“Salutations, sir,” he called out. “Are you busy?”

Ezra rose an eyebrow and he turned around, taking in the Balmadaar for a few seconds before shrugging. “Not at the moment, just relaxing. Though work on the greeting, it is a little too formal in human standards. A simple hello would do just fine, and the ‘sir’ is not required either.”

“I see, my apologies,” Khorochar said, taking his large fingers and rubbing them awkwardly against what would be called his chin. “What purpose does this room serve, exactly?”

“Makes basically any environment you want to experience it first hand without actually suffering the effects of doing so. You know...like how I am not suffocating to death right now without a spacesuit. The terminal over there has a bunch of preloaded ones.”

The Balmadaar walked over to the terminal and looked at it curiously, jabbing a finger onto the screen and swiping it. A list of places and buildings scrolled by quickly, most of them unknown to him, but it brought a chuckle to his lips all the same. “An amusing function! So this is used to...create things from other places, so the ship does not have to go to them. One would think we wouldn’t need mines anymore, then…”

“Well...you see big guy, it isn’t real. Say if you were to take a rock…” Ezra looked around and picked up a decent size stone, going over to the entrance of the holoroom. “And you were to throw it out the door…” He tossed the rock at the opened door and it immediately disappeared as it reached it. “It wouldn’t fly out. It is all fake.”

He tilted his head curiously. “Why would you make a big room that only makes fake things?”

Ezra just shrugged, looking around at the Martian landscape. “Cause it takes you away from reality. Like say...you can’t breathe underwater but if you want,” Ezra went over to the terminal pushing the big guy to the side and selecting the scene, the whole room shifting to a tropical aquatic landscape. “You could see what it is like underwater.” As Ezra spoke, the room mimicked bubbles coming out from his mouth and floating to the surface that looked so high up. A few species of colorful fish swam past the two, one even looking at the big alien before swimming off to rejoin the others.

“But-” he looked startled as bubbles emerged near his mouth as well, knowing very little about any sea, much less the human’s. He took his hand and tried to chase them away, doing the same each time he tried to speak. “Why dedicate a room to this? Don’t you humans ‘have...imaginations?’”

“We do, but isn’t it more fun to experience it first hand rather than just in your mind? Like...do you have a place you really want to visit...maybe somewhere you would like to return to?”

“No,” he stated flatly.

“Really?” Ezra rubbed his chin in thought and he asked, “Well where did you live before coming here, big guy?”

“A small house I built in Russia. I suppose I do miss it, but it is smaller and less shiny than here, and I doubt it is in the terminal.”

“Well probably not specifically your house but…” Ezra began scrolling through the options, finally realizing he was spending too much time in the holoroom to know exactly where it was located in the plethora of options. Finally, the underwater scene disappeared and they were standing in the middle of a dark, snowy forest, a small snowstorm going on and even the temperature in the room cooling only slightly. “This pretty close to where you lived looked like?”

Khorochar walked around the trees slowly, interested in the environment but a little disappointed in his inability to interact with it.

“It is familiar, yes. It’s difficult to tell without the scents and markings, but I may have hunted here, once,” he said. “It is quite well detailed, this image.”

“That is sort of the point, to be able to see these places without actually being there. For some people it alleviates homesickness, others just need a change of scenery from the whole spaceship thing, everyone seems to have a reason.” Ezra put his hands behind his head, merely observing the alien.

Khorochar stared through the forest for a few more moments, and his eyes lit up with an idea. “This could recreate something that is gone, yes?”

“Uh...I...guess it could. Why, what did you have in mind?” Ezra asked, a small smirk forming on his face, almost always up for a crazy idea.

“XCOM Headquarters, before it was destroyed,” he suggested.

“Oh...well…” Ezra went back to the terminal and he sighed, “No...no options but...how much does it mean to you exactly?”

“It was near my home, I explored much of what was left, but that is not much,” Khorochar said, letting out a sad sigh. “It intrigued me. I would love to see it in a state of repair, but it is hardly critical. That is why I’m here, to see the present version of this tribe.”

Rubbing his chin, Ezra got a mischievous look on his face and he stated, “Well luckily for you my big and burly friend, you know Ezra. And Ezra…” Running over to the terminal, he undid a panel to it and said, “Likes doing things that could get him in a lot of trouble.” Ezra purposely kept his back to the Balmadaar so he did not see what he was doing, finding what he was looking for and connecting into the XSDF servers, doing a search for a specific file. I swear, it’s like they don’t even bother to encrypt anything anymore.

Finding what he needed, Ezra attempted to download the file but quickly found opposition. “Ah...hello unfortunate IT guy, sorry, but I need this so...fuck off.” Rerouting the user who attempted to stop the download to another server, Ezra got what he needed and took extra measures to make sure he would not be able to be traced back through the system.

Ezra closed the panel and brought back the options menu again, within a matter of seconds a reconstruction of what the old XCOM base looked like took over the scene. “It took a little black hat hacking but I managed to download the old schematics of the base and along with security footage to perfectly recreate what the base looked like for you.” Though I am much more interested how that guy is going to get out of explaining to his CO why he was watching porn. Snickering to himself, Ezra asked, “So...what do you think?”

Khorochar looked around excitedly, running around the hall and inspecting every detail. He was disappointed that he didn’t have his bag with him that included the things he had taken from the old base. “It is a lot like I imagined,” he smiled broadly, continuing to look at the minute aspects of the hologram.

“Yeah...I’m pretty good like that. I managed to get the whole base layout so you could practically go anywhere while alone. Even though the room stays firm in place, the simulation moves with you.”

“Will this always be accessible? I left something in my bunk…” he replied.

“Yeah, just find it in the terminal and you can bring it up anytime. Just don’t try and live in here, I think a few people would object to that.”

Khorochar laughed boisterously, distracting him from his inspections. “Do not worry, I am happy where I am. Thank you for doing this for me, friend.”

“Uh...yeah, sure big guy. Look, if anyone asks though, I never did this. Don’t really need the heat on me after all.”

“By my honor,” he bowed. “Your name is Ezra, correct?”

“Yeah, that’s me. The one and only!” He stated with a smug look.. “And, uh...what about you big guy?”

“You may call me Khorochar,” he smiled. “It was good to meet you, and should I be able to repay the favor, let me know.”

“Having a giant alien on my side...yeah, I like that. I will be sure to find you if I ever have a need. What exactly are you doing here? Soldier or engineer since I know you guys aren’t really suited much for lab work.”

“Soldier, although I have not been deployed yet, so I do not know much about how you fight.”

“Oh, well it’s pretty easy, you point your weapon, pull the trigger and the unlucky person on the receiving end gets hurt. Not much different than anywhere else. Though I am a soldier as well, so who knows, maybe we could fight side by side big guy.”

“It would be my honor, so long as you fight well,” he nodded. “I’m going to get my bag now, so that I can compare my things to the real base. Would you like me to give you a while, so that you may return to what you were looking at?”

“Nah, I am probably going to head out anyways. Hope you enjoy yourself Khorochar.” Ezra turned and went for the exit, throwing up a hand to wave goodbye to him as he walked off.

Khorochar tried to replicate the gesture and gave an awkward wave, walking briskly back to his bunk.

 

[MarineAvenger]

"The Start of Something New" Part One (MarineAvenger and Andrammalech)

Somewhere in Subspace (January 30th, 2044)
The Einherjar (6:00 P.M., Earth Standard)
Bar

Tabitha walked into the bar space for the soldiers, invited by Gilroy to celebrate their successful mission. She saw a few familiar faces that put her mind at ease, but she still found it odd to be in a human bar and know so little and have so little to do.

“Drinks are on me,” he called out, walking away from the bar with Tess.

She took a seat on one of the bar stools and tried to project some manner of confidence, straightening her back and taking a look at the other fellows of the bar. She ordered a cider from the man behind the bar, getting an odd look when she asked for it in a glass. As the drink was slid to her, she took a small sip and began circling her finger around the rim, not certain on who to talk to, but assuming it was a matter of time given the brightness of her features compared to the other humans in the bar.

Mark entered the bar, not giving much mind to those who walked in with him, some other co-workers he had reluctantly agreed to go down with. As the others went to go get a table, Mark merely slipped away, still dressed in his lab coat with vest and dress shirt underneath. As he got to the bar, he pulled up his sleeve and looked at the time, looking at the bartender as he got near. “Martini, shaken and not stirred.”

With a smirk from the bartender, he got the drink ready and poured it for the scientist who sat down on a stool and took a small sip of it. Looking rather tired, he begrudgingly looked around just to see who was around him, the Tamearin woman two seats down from him really popping out.

Tabitha noticed him looking in her direction the same time she was looking towards him, and resisted looking away immediately. “Hey,” she said casually, taking another sip.

“Hello.” Mark sounded more tired than he had first thought and shook his head to waken himself up a little. “You a soldier?” He asked, trying to at least engage conversation so he wouldn’t be thought of weird for staring right at her.

“Yeah, a psionic soldier,” she smiled, “I was on Black Star a few days ago.”

“Ah, Black Star...the easily beaten pirates should probably have thought twice before picking a fight with someone that was clearly superior. Makes me think why they even thought a good idea to attack in the first place.” The scientist noted with a stoic tone, pretty much devoid of anything but boredom.

“It was pretty easy, they were practically throwing rocks at us. Still, it was exciting to be in combat, in the ‘I hope I don’t die’ kind of way. I take it you’re a scientist?”

“I am Mark Exalt, head of the cybernetics and biology lab divisions.” Taking a sip of his martini he took the olive out and threw it into the air, catching it in his mouth.

“Oh, so you make the…uh…” Tabitha held out her arm and mimicked a robotic movement.

Mark raised an eyebrow in confusion at hers and he said, “Yes...in a way, I make cybernetic limbs for wounded soldiers or ones looking to become MECs. On a technical level, I am eighty percent scientist and twenty percent engineer.”

“It must be fun to work on the MECs,” she said, “building the giant robots and fixing their guns and stuff. I imagine you have a more interesting job than most people here.”

“That is where you would be wrong. I merely help maintain the limbs of the people who become MECs and help those who want or need them. Other than that, I help try and improve our cybernetic technology but we are getting nowhere so far. In the biological end...very little.” Mark looked at his drink and he sighed, downing it all and asking for another.

“But you’re headed to Forseti with us, right?” Tabitha replied. “I imagine the elerium and other minerals there might open up new opportunities for you.”

“We will see in time, but I would rather not talk about work right now seeing as I am trying my best to forget it.” Mark tried to keep his irritation at bay but couldn’t really do a good job, especially with the incoming alcohol.

“Fair enough…how about the, uh, space weather?”

Mark allowed himself a chuckle, shaking his head and looking at Tabitha with a smirk. “Really? Of all the cheesy small talk you chose that?” Looking down at his drink Mark mumbled under his breath. “Well at least she is cute.”

Tabitha barely heard the last word, and leaned into the bar to try to see his face again. “What did you say? I…didn’t hear the last part.”

Mark rolled his eyes, thinking to himself, This is college all over again. “I called you cute.” He spoke up, looking at her with a shrug. “Why, should I not have said merely what I have observed?”

“N-no, that’s very sweet. And you’re not so bad yourself, I mean…um…” Tabitha’s voice tattered off, her cheeks changing to a deeper shade of purple, her hair and eyes slowly following suit.

Mark observed her change with a slight surprise, not seeing anything of the sort from a Tamearin before. “That normally happen when you are embarrassed?”

“I-I, no, n-not really, this is…different,” she stammered, the embarrassment of her mood swinging in public compounding with her shyness, her hair and eyes finishing their change to blue. Her shoulders hunched and she shrunk back in her stool, looking much more uncomfortable than before.

Seeing the strange behavior, Mark took his freshly made drink and moved over next to Tabitha, setting down his drink and asking, “You feeling alright? You look like you are about to be sick.” His tone had some genuinity to it.

“I-I’m having a mood swing,” she replied quietly, “I have a…disorder, a Tamearin one. I’m sorry…”

“No, it is fine. None of us are perfect so defects are no reason to be ashamed.” He stated matter-of-factly. “If you want we could leave so you do not feel so anxious,” Mark smiled to try and alleviate some of her worry, holding out a hand.

“There are a lot of people here,” she said, looking around nervously. She got out of her stool and held his hand tentatively. “Where else could we go?”

“There is the staff room, where considering the attendance here, I would say is pretty vacant at the moment. Or if you would prefer, I could simply bring you back to your room.”

“I-I wouldn’t mind talking more, just…with less people around,” Tabitha shrugged.

“Well, you should probably just go to your room just to be safe, in case you get tired or any more sick than you already look. If you really want to talk some more I wouldn’t mind staying to do so. You will just have to show me the way.” He informed her, beginning to lead her out of the bar.

“It’s in C wing, I can point it out. I can walk fine, though…there usually aren’t physical problems,” she said, not noticing her glass floating behind her back.

Noting the glass floating behind her he said, “Okay...if you say…” Not responding to anything else the walk back, when she finally pointed out where the room, he opened the door for her, closing it and looking around.

 

[Adrammalech]

"The Start of Something New" Part Two

“Thank you for walking me,” Tabitha said, seeming a little more composed. “I have a mental disorder that makes me kind of unstable… I’ve heard humans compare it to “bipolar” or “MPD,” but it doesn’t have a direct twin. Technically I’m just ‘weird’ in human terms. The hair and the eyes and the psionics change when I do…the cheeks were just blushing.”

“I kind of figured that, though the fact you are still blushing kind of contradicts that.” Mark told her with a small smile, leaning against the wall instead of going to sit on the bed with her.

“Yeah, sorry…I never really got used to people complimenting me like that, I usually think it’s either odd or embarrassing. Not that I don’t appreciate it, just…”

“So you don’t get complimented that often?” He asked, a little confused. “Or are you just not used to it in general?”

“I did sometimes at the bar I worked in, it’s just I never expected for others to find me attractive, especially aliens. No one liked me back home.”

“Your society heavily dissuades connection to emotion, does it not? I can see how that would put some of them off. However I tend to think of things generally as beautiful instead of strictly applying it to physical aspects of something. An insect has the capacity to be beautiful just like a puddle does if the sun hits it the right way. For all intents and purposes...yes, I would say you are beautiful.” He told her, going through the actual debate in his head what did and did not classify under those terms.

Tabitha blushed again, uncertain how to reply. “Well, thank you. I think you’re beautiful too.”

Mark chuckled, shaking his head. “I think handsome is more the word you would use for a male. Some men would get annoyed by being called beautiful, just as a future reference.” Pulling up his sleeve, Mark checked his watch again and crossed his arms once more.

“Oh, my mistake,” she said sheepishly. “Do you have somewhere to be? Because I’ll be fine, I’m not going to get sick or something.”

“No...just a force of habit I guess when I am either bored, nervous, or funnily enough, trying to make time go faster.”

“Doesn’t it work the other way? That’s what my boss always said, ‘the more you look at the clock, the slower it’ll go.’ He had a lot of weird sayings.”

“Depends on the person I guess.” Looking down at the floor, Mark thought of what to say next but just ended up saying, “If you would prefer I could leave to give you some space.”

“If you wanted, b-but we could talk again, later, if you wanted,” she lowered her voice to a mumble, “when I’m not stumbling over every word like an idiot…”

“I’m not trying to leave because you are a bother, it is actually quite the opposite. You could say I am rather enjoying myself, I just want to make sure I am not the bother for you. Besides, I do not...mind the stumbling, you have shown you aren’t an idiot so I would not call yourself that, alright?”

“Right, sorry, I’m just…still flustered.”

“I would have suspected it would have sort of...worn off by now. Is there something else you're nervous about that you aren’t saying?” He asked rather bluntly.

“What? No, I’m just not great at the people thing…”

“Well...to be honest neither am I. Just gets a little stressful sometimes so I would rather shove things off rather than deal with them directly. Sort of like this. Usually I wouldn’t be caught dead alone in a room with a woman…”

“I try to avoid it too, and you’re probably better than me,” Tabitha replied, “I’m an adult by all means and I haven’t had so much as a single date or boyfriend, or anything that entails…”

Mark raised an eyebrow. “An...interesting thing to say. I had a girlfriend while I attended college, though every time she tried to make a pass I turned her down. At the time, I was more focused on trying to get school done but for her...well it was more physical than actually emotional for her. I must say a bit of me regrets turning her down so often, never got the chance afterwards…” Mark shrugged and looked at Tabitha with an understanding look. “So...I guess I get it.”

“There was a boy on Luna who liked me too, but I never really let him in. I couldn’t tell you why either,” she shrugged. “You ever get the feeling you’re just not cut out for that kind of relationship?”

Mark thought about his answer, wanting to be honest as possible he told her, “I have thought of dating girls for a strictly physical commitment but I soon found out that it was stupid to think like that. My father told me of how he and my mother had fell in love and I just sort of dropped the whole endeavor. Since then, nothing. Wasn’t from a lack of want or trying but…” Mark didn’t know what else he needed to add.

“You’re just waiting for ‘the one?’”

Mark shook his head. “I don’t believe in ‘the one’. I just want...someone.” He said with emphasis, letting out a sigh and looking to the ground. “This is the second time this week that I have opened up to people...something must be wrong with me.” He muttered to himself.

“It’s alright, I don’t mind having someone to talk to…and you can trust me. Even if I was the kind to run around talking about people behind their backs, I wouldn’t even really know anyone to do that with,” she shrugged. “So, umm…what do you do for fun?”

“Nothing...much. My days are kind of really bland. Sometimes I will just read a miscellaneous book lying around, or I work, and sleep. When I was in college I used to attend parties but those days are behind me. You?”

“I like to read too. Mostly Tamearin books while I was home, once I moved to Luna I did more working than anything else. But still, I’ve read some human books here and there. Would you like to sit with me? We could talk about them for a while, if you wanted.”

“U-Uh...sure.” Mark walked from the wall and went to sit on the bed, avoiding to look at Tabitha directly. “W-What did you have in mind?”

Tabitha reached into her bag, pulling out her light blue phone and a pair of earbuds. “Do you like science fiction?”

“Well we sort of live in a science fiction world do we not?” Shaking his head he said, “Sure, why not, I will try it.”

“I have an audiobook translated from Tamear, kind of reading it over and over again to help with my English,” she offered her right earbud. “Want to listen with me for a bit?”

Taking the earbud, Mark put it in and sat on the edge of the bed, putting his elbows on his legs and his chin in his hand. “Alright.”

She put in her earbud and swiped through the menus, starting the audiobook. The translated narration began, and she smiled shyly over at Mark before looking back down at her phone.

 

[Adrammalech]

| THE WHITE WOLVES
| Willow "Tessa" Ryan / Kallpa Vizcarra & Kelio Sparks (DarkGemini24601) / Alexandros (Zain Shah) / Zz'khaz “Al” Ts'kalik-sha (Alzdude28)
| Einherjar Barracks Lounge and Bar
| Outer Space, Milky Way
| January 30th, 2044 - 6:00 PM

Tess and Gilroy leaned against the bar, the latter showing both aggravation and appreciation for the former’s overenthusiasm in the last mission. Gilroy had invited the squad to the bar to celebrate a successful mission on their cruise, and Tess tagged along, always willing to take an excuse to drink.

“You should buy everyone a round,” Tess suggested. “After all, it is a celebration.”

Gilroy thought for a moment, then got on the top of his toes and called out. “Drinks are on me!” the other soldiers cheered and began to move towards him, eager to take advantage of the opportunity.

The bartender came around with a bundle of light beers, giving two to both him and Tess. Gilroy stepped away from the bar with her, letting the thirsty soldiers take their place at the bar as they found a place to sit at one of the round tables away from the bar. He looked in surprise as the table quickly filled up, Tess, Tremblay, Cheung, Gelashivili, Kallpa, and his sectoid friend all sitting beside him.

“Oh, you guys don’t have to sit with me if you don’t want,” O’Connor offered.

“And not celebrate my promotion to Specialist? Come on,” Kallpa replied jokingly. “We fought together, we should celebrate together.”

Agreed! We make a great team! Kelio psied, forgetting to use his voice synthesizer.

“Well, we’re all Specialists now,” Charlotte Tremblay replied, “so I guess we have a lot of drinking to do.”

“You know, as long as we’re all the same rank, we could create a team of our own,” Tess said, taking a drink from her bottle.

“Shouldn’t XSDF do that for us? Just because we beat some pirates doesn’t mean we’re linked together,” Varvara replied.

“Well, do you have any other offers?”

“I suppose not…” she shrugged.

“I like the enthusiasm,” O’Connor smiled, “but I don’t know if six or seven people is worth starting something official over.”

“Then we’ll beef it up,” Tess said, “Tabitha will join, when she’s done flirting with whoever that is at the bar, and…” she quickly scanned the bar, noticing two familiar faces from before. “Those guys, they’re cool.”

“You know them?”

“Yeah, badass dragon guy, and...a weird smoking guy, it’s perfect,” she grinned, standing up and calling out to them across the bar. “Hey, Als, get over here!”

Al looked up at hearing his name, and quickly located the source of the voice. “What is it Tess?”

Tess noticed Alex looking her way and waved him over too. “We’re making a team, so we get missions together more often. Interested?”

“Will I get to shoot things and then be bought drinks? If so, I’m in.”

Alex stood still for a moment, not knowing how to reply; he opened his mouth to speak yet no words came out. He slowly and silently made his way to the group, thinking of what to say “Umm...sure but I don’t know how good I’ll be, I don’t have much.... or any real experience.”

“I’m sure you’ll be fine, you have that ritual thing or whatever it is you do,” Tess replied.

“Are you all sure about this? I mean, we’ll have to stick together if we submit it to the brass, rely on and trust each other in combat and just on the ship,” Gilroy said.

A small round of nods went around the table, Tess leaning back and putting her feet against it.

“I think we’re good, we just have to pick a name,” she responded.

“How about ‘The Predators’?” Suggested Al.

“Maybe if we were all Draeconians,” Kallpa deadpanned. “What about ‘The Coyotes?”

“We are not using your nickname, Vizcarra,” Cheung interjected.

“Something similar could work. ‘The Dogs?’” Said Al, not quite understanding why everyone laughed at that suggestion.

“That sounds a little mundane,” Tess said, “but the Wolves sounds badass.”

Al nodded his approval at that.

“Yeah, we’re all kind of independent-minded people, right? We can be like the Lone Wolves or something,” she continued.

“The Lone Wolves might not be the best name for a team.” Al pointed out.

“The White Wolves,” Gilroy suggested. “Fearless, strong, and runs in a pack when it needs to.”

Al smiled. “I’ll drink to that.”

“I imagined myself more as a lion but I guess a wolf will do,” replied Alexandros.

“Fine by me, sounds suitably badass,” Kallpa agreed, his shorter companion simply shrugging.

“So, what do we need now? An emblem, a nickname, a fight song…” Tess said.

“It’s a squad, not a high school football team,” Gilroy responded.

“Ah, same thing…”

“An emblem isn’t a bad idea. It would identify us at least. Nothing too complicated, just a stencil on our armour or something like that.” interjected Al.

“Anyone here an artist? Or at least not terrible at that sort of thing?” Kallpa asked. “And it’s not going to be me, incase that wasn’t obvious.”

“I’m sure someone on this ship can do that sort of thing. All we need to do is call in a favour.”

“Sounds like you know someone,” Tess said.

“I was sat next to an engineer on the shuttle over, she was doodling in a notebook for the majority of the trip. I think she was called Martinsson. If we can find her, she could probably get it done.”

“I think we have a grand plan then,” she smiled. “Anyone else have anything to add?”

“Not here, I think the plan’s perfect!” Kelio announced.

“Well then, welcome to the White Wolves everyone, XSDF’s greatest squad,” Gilroy said, raising his bottle.

“Eventually, anyway,” Charlotte said, doing the same.

Al called to the bartender to bring him a glass of rum. “To the White Wolves.” He said, raising it.

Alexandros quietly joined in with the celebration, raising his empty glass.

 

[DarkGemini24601]

“Flow of Time I, Part 1”

Somewhere in Subspace (January 31st, 2044)
The Einherjar (8:46 A.M.., Earth Standard)
Gym 1 //Sasha Dragomirov//

Sasha brushed back her hair, getting up from a bench after taking a bit of a rest. Having decided to spend some time training, she had opted to wear a simple set of exercising clothing. This consisted of black shorts that reached down to just below her knees, and a dark gray top with short sleeves. “Alright…” Mikhail’s probably exercising plenty, so I can’t let myself fall behind. The Dragomirov briefly went through the mental list of what she had to do in her head, and then set to work.

Unfolding a mat to make a buffer between her back and the black steel floor, Sasha laid down for an exercise that was among the easier ones on her list, opting to start off this way to ease herself into the difficult tasks. Closing her eyes, she relaxed her breathing, something she had become quite good at in the past few years in order to practice her telekinesis or simply calm herself down in the heat of battle. By no means am I good at staying completely calm, but I did have someone who’d been through much tougher battles than me to show me how. A small smile crept across Sasha’s face as she began with the first set of sit-ups. Thanks, Dad.

Finishing the last one with that same relaxed breathing with a slightly increased pace, Sasha rolled over, placing her palms on the ground for some push-ups. Always hated these… With a bit of a tremble to her arms she began a set of the second exercise on her list, completing it just barely with her heart and breathing rates heightened.

This time just doing her best to clear her mind and focus, Sasha compiled what she needed for her third task. She grabbed two 30 pound weights, taking in a deep breath before curling them up and down, trying to keep the motion from being uncontrolled even though it made her arms shake a little and her muscles burn. She followed up by using them in a set of jumping jacks, pushing them out to the side in one rep, then up, and repeating that pattern.

By the time she was done most of the with weight-related exercise there was some sweat beaded around her forehead and making her clothing stick to her more. Sasha laid down the weights on her bench, taking a drink out of her reusable water bottle which was marked with a simple ‘SD’ on the side. She took a drink, and then grabbed her weights for one last thing, the hardest part saved for last. She laid them down in her hands in a push-up position, and then upon coming up from the first one, curled her right arm back with the weight still in hand. She did the same with her left on the second rep, and kept this up for a couple more. She didn’t make it to her thirty second timer, though, shakily having to let go and fall back into a sitting position with ten seconds to go.

The timer rung tauntingly, but Sasha shook her head. I’ll… I’ll get it next time, the Dragomirov thought to herself, rubbing sweat off her forehead. A snicker broke her out of her reverie, and looking up she noticed three other soldiers watching her with mischievous grins. Glancing down, she realized why, her clothes somewhat outlining her form because of the perspiration. Reddening and turning away, she clenched a fist. Don’t… don’t you have something better to do? she snapped in her mind, not having the courage to say it out loud. Hearing another laugh she realized this angle probably wasn’t helping either, and thus she grabbed her water bottle, walking out of the gym in a hurry.

Sasha only stopped walking when she was a good distance away, looking down helplessly in a mixture of anger, embarrassment, and sadness. Can’t get away from it, no matter where I go…

Somewhere in Subspace (January 31st, 2044)
The Einherjar (9:23 A.M., Earth Standard)
Holodeck 4 //Hermes Arcwright//

Hermes clarified something one last time with the weapons scientist across from him. “So you are completely fine with me testing using this, correct?”

“Like I said before, it’s fine… just don’t… break it with whatever you’re going to do. Dr. Anderson will have my head, and I’m not even joking,” the scientist responded, scratching his head. “You know how geniuses are, right? Smart but… odd.”

Hermes raised a metallic eyebrow. “I couldn’t say if I’ve met any… but I do understand what you mean. Michelangelo, for instance, refused to work with others and rarely bathed, correct?”

“Huh… I never thought about comparing her to an artist… but that is how she treats her work, a sacred art. So don’t break it, you hear me!” the scientist declared one last time as he walked out the door and up to the observation booth.

“Understood.” Hermes set down the pulse rifle, ignoring the curious stares of a few people that weren’t in the middle of their own simulations. A potent red glow gathered around the android’s eyes of a similar color, and he outstretched a hand, his black fingers hovering over the power pack. Red distortion waves emanated around it, and pulled themselves around Hermes’s hand as he stood up carefully, the weapon’s lights dimming as the attack power was reduced to zero. So I can absorb this much heat energy…

Hermes nodded thoughtfully. The power to control heat energy… very potent if used correctly, considering that all weapons generate heat. A gun could fire longer, or be made unable to fire… and perhaps even heat could be taken from a person, though my ability seems to diminish at range. As if to prove a point, Hermes requested of the engineer he had also called over, “Can you bring the wood over here?”

The woman in the hardhat nodded, lugging over a set of wooden planks in a simple board. “I have a guess as to what you’re gonna use this for…” A grin lit up on her face. “I get to watch, right?”

“Of course,” the android replied, reaching out. His heat energy gathered from the pulse weapon, warm enough to damage his armor if not redirected away from it as he was currently doing, was directed towards the board. It started to die off as it got several feet from Hermes, so he called it back and walked closer. “Do not be disappointed,” he reassured the engineer. “I was just testing my limits. Now I shall perform the real deal."

I can manipulate it, generate it at a cost of draining my psionic pool, and although I am unable to use pyro-conjuring, I can… Hermes surrounded the wood in the intense heat, and it quickly began to smoke, and then caught fire, blackening around the edges. Redirect it for ignition!

“Nicely done, Hermes!” The engineer proclaimed while the scientist just shook his head.

“And if that isn’t enough, my other ability…” The android concentrated a spike of red energy in his right hand, and opened his palm, firing it like a bullet through the wood, shattering it completely. He left the result unsaid. Can finish the job.

The scientist reappeared in the doorway. “I suppose that was impressive, at least. I’ve never heard of ‘Thermokinesis’ before. I think Ms. Exalt might want to see you at some point for a lot of reasons.”

Hermes shrugged. “I’ll think on it. And I left your weapon intact, see? I keep my promises.”

“Yeah, yeah…”

Somewhere in Subspace (January 31st, 2044)
The Einherjar (10:17 A.M., Earth Standard)
Medical Ward //Irina Beaumont//

001

Irina shook her head. “I insist that you be more careful. There’s nothing wrong with sparring, but hurting yourself during it does you no good.”

“Wouldn’t want one of your soldiers broken before the fight even starts, huh?” the red-haired Russian Irina was attending to muttered to herself. Her hand was having its bruises repaired by Tz6, and even though it was painless the soldier still didn’t like sitting around while it took effect.

“Come on, Zoya, I think she’s just looking out for you. That is her job, after all,” the other soldier, an Estonian, responded, smiling with bright blue eyes that contrasted with her chocolate brown hair.

“Based on what evidence, Karolina?” Zoya replied tiredly as if lecturing a sibling.

“The fact that she hasn’t done anything wrong yet.”

Irina sighed. “It’s healed now. Though please, try to trust your doctors a little more. None of us are out to get you.”

Zoya shrugged. “Sorry, you can just never be too cautious.”

002

“Everything checks out, Ms. Adolfsson,” Irina informed the rocketeer as Kriemhiel moved her no-longer bruised arm.

“Thank you, Dr. Beaumont. I’ll try to take it a little easier… I just wanted to make sure I could easily lift my explosive ammo,” Kriemhiel explained, rubbing the back of her neck.

“I understand… just try to be a little more careful. I’m glad at least you-” A ‘ding’ announcing another visitor cut Irina off, and the door opened. Irina didn’t see anyone intially, but then looked down, her gaze meeting that of a young boy. “Um...hello?”

“Mother sent me here to get a check-up… my name’s Fraser Charbonneau,” the boy explained, brushing back his black hair idly.

“Alright… sit down over there.” I didn’t realize we had someone’s child onboard… isn’t Avril Charbonneau a soldier here? Irina wondered as she got to work.

 

[DarkGemini24601]

"Flow of Time I, Part 2"

Somewhere in Subspace (January 31st, 2044)
The Einherjar (11:49 A.M., Earth Standard)
Staff Lounge //Vindicta Exalt//

Vindicta took a sip of her oolong tea as she looked over some notes. The head of the psionic division had her white labcoat laid out on the back of the chair, and was wearing a white/light gray dress with blue designs on it to match her features. The lounge was moderately crowded at the moment, several other people taking their break at this time. Vindicta was relaxing, but she was utilizing the time to finally look over information compiled for her about the psions on the Einherjar. “First on the list is… Tabitha Le’talla.”

The scientist raised an eyebrow. “A Tamearin, it would seem… and with two minor colors without a major? How curious… she has an arrangement resembling one of Aetherum’s denizens, even if her control over her power shifts and respective colors is weaker than that of a Humiliata. Psi Lance, Telekinesis, and ESP. A stronger focus on red, so that makes her more useful at the moment while in that mood.” Vindicta shrugged. “Though ESP is a valuable tool, even by itself.”

Skipping over some with only a singular power and smirking at the addition of Elicia Ensslin to the list, Vindicta came across the female Dragomirov. “Sasha Dragomirov… telekinesis and rift, and apparently she’s been working on her powers recently. Very good of her. I look forward to seeing just what she can do, especially considering she pulled off a time rift alongside me in a previous timeline…” Vindicta rolled her eyes. “Even if mother would have no reason to lie to me about that, I still find that scenario absurd. Only the Humiliata could have forced us into that sort of scenario…”

Vindicta blinked for a moment, coming across the next file that made her question whether she was reading the information correctly. “An… android with psionic powers? That simply isn’t possible! They could have subsystems to channel the energy, but to actually generate it…” Calming down, she read the rest of the file. “Located on Sihan 2 by Aya Brea and Sarah Wong… hm, I need to have a talk with this Hermes Arcwright. Perhaps I can gleam some knowledge from him.”

Enjoying another portion of her tea, Vindicta added, “And speaking of Sarah Wong, impressive progress by the lieutenant. ESP, Mindfray, Imbuing, and Psi Inspiration… she could still do with figuring out her other minor color, but her other skills are honed nevertheless. As for my other cousin…” Vindicta intoned as she came across Noire Francois, “I look forward to seeing what she can do as well with that physical enhancement of hers.”

Shifting her focus down the list while enjoying last of the wonderful aroma and distinct flavor of the Chinese tea, she came across Cayden Walker. Though, upon seeing the rather limited overview available to her, the Exalt scoffed. “What’s this? There’s not much data on the son of Desmond Walker… such a disappointment. I suppose I’ll have to ask him about his progression myself.” For now she could only whet her appetite for knowledge by learning that he had Pyro-Conjuring and Telekinesis. “Fairly basic… though I wonder if he inherited the ability to use that curious ‘Pulsar Core’ I’ve heard so much about. Another of many questions I will have to pose to my cousin.”

Vindicta chuckled, putting down her cup.Still, there is room for improvement. When a scientist has more abilities than any of the soldiers, Humiliata not included, something needs to be done. And I shall see to it that I make that happen.

Somewhere in Subspace (January 31st, 2044)
The Einherjar (1:12 A.M., Earth Standard)
Gym 2 //Kallpa Vizcarra//

Kallpa fastened a set of brown gloves onto his hands, tying the strings tight so they wouldn’t fall off during his duel with the punching bag. A lot was on the recently-christened gunner’s mind, and he needed some time to cool off before heading to train with heavy weapons in a few minutes. Clenching his fists, he threw his first punch, making sure that his thumb was outside the fist as to lessen the impact of the strikes. “Black Star went… pretty well, huh?” he thought aloud, sending his left in an uppercut that smoothly hit and withdrew from the opposition.

“And it’s nice, actually… I feel like I’m at home in the force with this whole ‘White Wolves’ squad,” the Incan muttered to himself, a slight grin etching itself onto his features. “Not bad at all!” Another strike connected solidly, though it jarred his hand a little. Alright, so what’s bothering me, then? I have a lot of new friends, Sparks and everyone else… and I met Cayden friggen Walker, didn’t I?

Kallpa shook his head. “Maybe it’s just nothing,” he decided as another hit connected with his immobile foe. Ah, come on. There’s clearly something… The gunner sighed, knowing perfectly well what it probably was. “I can hear you now, Yulanda. ‘He sure moved on quick, huh?’ Well, sis, Bhana wasn’t exactly much of a score, she was a placeholder… but then again…”

"That's... quite the arm there. Must have been something to trade in for it."

“She can definitely be cruel, huh?” Kallpa threw a punch harder than he intended, and ended up jarring his organic right arm. “Shit!” Rubbing his hand and right lower arm with his mechanical left, Kallpa thought to himself again. Still, I don’t know… it’s Tamearin customs after all, and she’s apparently not used to dealing with people, especially not humans.

"Still, you... I... It sucks you..." Her eyes darted back. "How... did you lose it?"

“And hey, even if she doesn’t approve of the arm, she still seemed to be impressed by the story of how I lost it. Could probably just get a synthetic version if I needed to…” Kallpa mumbled, tapping his foot before throwing a fresh punch with his mechanical arm this time. And while there’s some personality quirks… well…

Korra walked over to Kallpa, leaning against him, her impressive bust pressed against his chest. Her tail lightly brushed against his neck. "Maybe you and I can find a little privacy. Somewhere I can repay you for your kindness."

The next strike with his left arm managed to send a ripple through his whole body with the force, and dented the bag. Kallpa stepped back in frustration. “Goddammit… is it really this easy for me to fall head over heels for someone?” Or is she just an excellent seductress? “Damn it,” he growled again, before removing his gloves and heading off to go get his class training over with.

Somewhere in Subspace (January 31st, 2044)
The Einherjar (3:37 A.M., Earth Standard)
Cybernetics Lab //Kelio Sparks//

Kelio looked over his Mechtoid suit with a pensive gaze, as a customized drone flew around the mechanical monolith, blue sparks and beams attesting to its repair efforts. The drone was optimized for such tasks, and performed poorly in combat, thus precluding Kelio from bringing it into combat, at least for the moment. It did its job in the engineering wing very well though, stitching together frayed or melted metal and helping workers carry replacement circuitry and plates to the frame. “Pinyin, could you make sure the weapons are functioning properly?”

The drone beeped, and then dove into the frame, small plugs exiting its frame and entering the limb sockets, uplinking the machine to the MEC Trooper armor. Kelio pulled up a mechanical arm, a small holographic overview flaring to life from a slot on the limb. Let’s see… cooling systems functional, slots detached pulse mini-cannons without an issue… seems good.

The Sectoid was a little disappointed, though. He had done well with his explosives, but he got the feeling that his split weaponry had cost him damage, or at the very least the pulse weapons hadn’t done much for him. Maybe I’ll use gauss next time.

“Hey, Kelio,” the black haired engineer from Kelio’s unfortunate encounter with Thomas Wolfe called out. “I was looking for you. The verdict was that we could upgrade your MEC-1 to one of the variants, but we’re not going to change it a bunch. So for now it’s probably best that you pick what MEC number you want for your Mechtoid suit.”

The Sectoid nodded his large head, climbing up into the suit, having Pinyin detatch and continue with the final repairs. “That’s a tough choice… um…” Sparks tapped his limbs against the shell of the suit. “Well, if I’m going to be a Shogun and shooting a bunch of mines around, I should probably have a support armor. The MEC-6 is the only one we can afford to make right now, right?”

The engineer nodded. “Yep. I’ll tell the boss what you wanted, and I’m sure he’ll get us on making that thing A.S.A.P.”

“Thank you, Jacob,” Kelio responded as his friend started to walk off. “And maybe at some point you could give it stronger weapons?”

“That’s a question for Anderson, not me.” The engineer laughed. “Someday, Sparks. Someday.”

 

[DarkGemini24601]

"Flow of Time I, Part 3"

Somewhere in Subspace (January 31st, 2044)
The Einherjar (6:24 A.M., Earth Standard)
The Bar //Addington Khumalo//

Addington groaned as he stepped into the bar, quickly going over to sit at the counter. “I’m surrounded by idiots, I swear…” That’s two flights now that apparently don’t have any respect for authority. At dinner the fleet coordinator had tried approaching another group like he had Bone Arrow, this time one from Manta, and he had received an icy reception this time instead of a fiery one. It was all the same to the frustrated South African, though. “I suppose one victory wasn’t good enough for them, maybe next time they’ll come to realize my genius,” he muttered under his breath.

“Can I get you something?” The bartender asked, before noticing who Addington was. “You off duty, sir?”

Damnable rule about only one drink off-duty and none on-duty for important officers… does that woman honestly think we have no moderation? “Of course, otherwise I wouldn’t be here,” Addington snapped. “Glass of whiskey.”

“You sure that…”

“I swear to God, if you say I’m too young…”

“Not at all, sir,” The man grumbled, shaking his head and walking into the back to recover the drink Addington had requested. Addington tapped his foot as he waited, his gaze drifting over to a both where he saw two vaguely familiar women talking. That’s… Phoebe Appleton and Anja Jollenbeck, the fleet coordinator recalled, Phoebe’s familiar attire and Anja’s manner fitting with the files he had on his pilots and the overview of them he had gotten at his introduction.

Turning his head back to the counter, Addington received his drink, and quickly took a good swig of it, his throat burning for a moment but the liquid courage relaxing the South African, if only a little. Getting up with his drink in hand, he walked over to the booth. “Hello. Mind if I join you two?” he asked as normally as he could, even if they immediately recognized him.

Anja looked away innocently, her answer to that question as clear as day. Phoebe frowned. “I’m… not sure that’d be the best idea. With all due respect, you haven’t made the best impression…”

“Are my own goddamn pilots really going to give me the cold shoulder?” Addington yelled, quickly becoming conscious of the fact that several people were staring at him with his glass slammed down on the table. “My… apologies, Ms. Appleton. I’m just worn out,” he mumbled.

Sorry, Anja, Phoebe thought to herself. “I… suppose you can share a drink with us if you want.”

“Hey! I…” Anja sighed, throwing up her hands in defeat. “Alright, SkyEye. Citrus wins, but on the condition that we don’t talk about flying.”

“Then what are we…” Addington protested.

“Normal stuff. The happenings around the base, our hobbies, how more people probably hate Streczyk than you,” Anja responded.

“Ahem to that…” Addington replied, a small smile creeping across his expression. “Can you believe she only allows me one drink?”

“Maybe, but that’s still bullshit,” the German pilot responded, relaxing in her seat a little. Maybe he’s at least… two percent human after all.

Earth, Sol System (January 31st, 2044)
Toronto, Canada (8:24 A.M., Eastern Time Zone)
Waterfront //Atka Ipitkok//

Things were not going well for Matthew Pearlman. It was supposed to be a simple job, he thought as he ran along the side of the road facing Lake Ontario. A contract assassin, he had been hired to deal with some troublesome detective that had been getting in the way of someone’s business. “They neglected to mention that he was friends with a goddamned psion!” Matthew spat as he dashed across the road, ignoring the looks of people confused by his surprising, genetically enhanced speed.

Dextrous Muscle Fibers and an Aerobic Respiration Boost tended to do that for you, and he had T1 Cybernetic Eyes to ensure his sniper rifle was on target. Today, that wasn’t enough for Mr. Pearlman, but he didn’t realize it yet. He had tried to assassinate the detective on his way out for work, but somehow his colleague had seen the shot coming seconds before and pulled him behind a pillar. And somehow knew where he was. “Goddamned ESP… let’s see if you can match up to my speed!”

The assassin spun around, lifting his sniper rifle from his back, causing a nearby bystander to scream when she realized what he was holding. Magnified Bicep Structure made his draw frighteningly fast, and he locked onto his pursuer, a woman in dark blue clothing, that of an investigator, a detective, hat and all. She had short black hair and intense light blue eyes. “Take this!” Matthew shouted as he fired off his shot.

How do you make the same mistake twice? Atka thought to herself, having already seen the shot coming. As he lifted the rifle, she tightened a strap around her wrist, and the device around her wrist drew blood directly from her artery, ejecting it in a telekinetic field that wrapped into the form of a Reflection. It looked like her, but had a low, spiky mohawk and jet black clothing complete with spikes and pretty much everything that was ‘punk’ in the past. A wide grin completed the brawler’s description. “Xifeng!” Atka called out, and the Reflection raised her hands.

There was the crack of a plasma rifle, and the bullet flew towards Atka, only to be stopped by a telekinetic field generated in front of the Reflection. Even if it had gone through, it still would have had to burst through Xifeng’s form composed of the same power to have a chance at hitting the detective, and Atka wasn’t going to give him another chance. Double-helixes wound out of telekinetic energy lunged out from her hands, icy spikes lining them, and wrapped around the sniper rifle and the pistol on Matthew’s belt, crushing the latter and tossing the former into the drink. “No!” the assassin cried out in despair.

Atka started walking towards him, shaking her head. “Why were you trying to kill my partner? Tell me and I won’t have to fight you anymore.”

“Please don’t hurt me, I’m sorry!” Matthew pleaded falsely, his hand lowering to his pistol. You’ll get it this time you bitch… didn’t notice my blaster, didya?

“Just tell me, and I’ll make things easier for you,” the Inuit woman pressed, getting closer.

“Man, you fell for it!” Matthew pulled out his pistol, and Atka sighed.

“Xifeng…” she said with exasperation, tired of people who didn’t learn their lesson.

The man fired, and Xifeng took the shot head on, only cracking a bit on her side. The Reflection swung her fist up with an ‘Ipa!’ and connected solidly with the assassin’s stomach, sending him flying into a trash can beneath a lamp. Atka shook her head, kneeling by the unconscious man. “Now what… whoa!” The detective stepped back as a small charge detonated on Matthew’s back.

“W-Why… when did they...p-put…” Pearlman sputtered, before falling silent as the small but deadly wound to his heart took his life.

Atka looked away for a moment, her Reflection fading into her. “Looks like something strange is going on here…” the psion mumbled. “And here I was thinking I had a chance to take a vacation.”

 

[BMPixy]

“On Drifting Clouds”
Somewhere in Subspace
1431 Local; January 30th, 2044 / 16.3136
Aboard the Sifari Malasa

“You know, for a Hibaya, you’re a pretty good pilot,” Osahar noted, slowly lowering herself down beside Tak-sharu, a handful of nutrient packs carefully balanced on her forelimbs. “Any preference on flavor?”

“Got any gumi ones?” Tak-sharu asked, quickly glancing away from the controls to see Osahar’s tilt of confirmation. Reaching out to grab the offered meal, he continued, “It’s important that a diplomat be able to pilot their craft in times of emergency. Besides, not like we had any Wahada at the consulate.”

“We could have always hired one of the ingine pilots,” Osahar remarked, setting aside the rest of the packets and grabbing one for herself.

Tak-sharu coughed, nearly choking on his food out of shock. “O-osahar-ba!” he exclaimed.

“What?” the other Seikron asked innocently, in between bites of her filet.

“Y-you can’t call the xenos that! It’s insulting!”

“Why?” Osahar questioned. “Unless one of them managed to sneak on during the pre-flight check, not like there’s any of them around to insult.”

“It normalizes thinking of them that way! Next thing you know you’re gonna be proclaiming that only Seikronyr have souls, and that we should exterminate the Humiliatia while they’re weak!” Tak-sharu protested.

“Hey, I just describe as I perceive,” Osahar defended. “They are not Seikronyr, so they are ingine. Nothing wrong with that, xenos is just a bit too clunky off the tongue for my taste.”

“Just… don’t say that to their faces,” the other Seikron said, taking a bite of his food. “Never know who has a basic understanding of our language.”

“Don’t scatter your seed over it, I won’t speak a word of it where they can hear it,” she replied. “Not even in front of the Koingozi.”

“Osahar-ba!”

“My apologies, the Humiliatia,” Osahar corrected. With a sigh, she added, “Ugh, whatever happened to the good ol’ days, when we knew who the enemy was and could call them that openly? Now it’s all politicking and trying to stay on everyone’s good side.”

“There were no days like that,” Tak-sharu said, finishing off his meal. “It’s just that we cut ourselves off from the galaxy out of fear of being wiped out. Then we come back, and the galaxy says, ‘Hey, you know that enemy you spent the last three thousand sonada preparing to fight? They’ve already been beaten.’ Now we just gotta adjust to the galaxy.”

“Easy for you to say, you’re Hibaya,” Osahar countered. “What’s the role of a soldier in a galaxy at peace? Seriously, aside from the odd pirate, there’s no purpose for the Badka in this galaxy.”

“I’m no philosopher, so I can’t exactly answer that question. Three curses, I don’t believe anyone could answer it.” Tak-sharu tilted his head back and forth uncertainly, and added, “It’s just one of those questions: ‘what’s the role of a soldier during peace?’ ‘can love bloom on the battlefield?’ ‘why did we survive our genocide?’ One of those questions without answer, understand?”

“Well, you can at least try and answer it,” the MEC Trooper muttered annoyedly, gazing out the window as she downed the last few bites of her meal.

“Hey, part of being good at your job means knowing your limits. Masterful diplomat? Yeah. Cunning salesman? Indeed. Spy? Eh, bit rusty, but I can manage. Philosopher? You’d sooner find me as Yinnad than that.”

A moment of silence passed between the two, filled only by the quiet hum of the ship. Eventually, fed up with the silence, Osahar spoke up.

“Do you think we could get Vati Chemzo reception out here?” she asked, gazing around the cockpit uncertainly. “I think the finals are going to be on sometime in the next few days, don’t want to miss them.”

“Not sure,” Tak-sharu said. “We’re pretty far out from our territory, so I’d doubt they’d be broadcasting.”

“Three curses. Was hoping I’d be able to catch them, heard that Marna ma Ilaawi’s team was doing fairly well this season,” Osahar said, a resigned expression on her face.

“Well, at least you don’t have any bets running on it,” Tak-sharu offered. “Though I didn’t know you followed Vati Chemzo. Figured you’d have enough giant robots fighting each other in your day job.”

“It kills the time at base, plus it helps build unit cohesion, rooting for your team to win,” the MEC explained. “Been loyally following Marna for as long as I can remember. You have any preference in team?”

“Eh, I casually follow Farxad Adeega’s team, mostly ‘cause it’s my hab ship. You hear anything about how they’re doing?”

“I think they got eliminated just before the end of the Sonada, though my memory is a bit rusty there.” Osahar uncertainly twitched her whiskers, thinking. “Yeah, they were. Particularly brutal loss, five bots totalled and four crippled. Don’t think they’ll be fixed by next season.”

Tak-sharu winced unconsciously. “Ow, I knew that my lads have always been on the lower end of the teams, but that’s harsh. Who came out ahead there?”

“Peal ya Inami’s team, I think.”

“Ah, that explains it. They’ve always been well ahead of the curve, no wonder we got thrashed like that.”

Slowly Osahar stood, gathering up the unused nutrient packs. “Anyways, I best go put these back before they spoil,” she said.

“Understood, I’ll be up here if you need me,” Tak-sharu said as Osahar made her way out of the cockpit, leaving him alone with the controls and the blackness of subspace. With a gentle sigh, he leaned back over the console, carefully monitoring the read-outs. Even though they all read fine, he couldn’t help the feeling that he should remain vigilant.

<TL's Note: Gumi - A large aquatic mammal formerly native to Kadxa, roughly analogous to a Terran whale; Ingine - Seikron slur for aliens, literally translates to 'other'; Vati Chemzo - Seikronyr sport, where two teams of nine bots - controlled by dumb AIs - battle over control of objectives; Peal ya Inami - Seikron expresson, roughly translates to 'leap of faith'.>

 

[MarineAvenger]

"Dreams and Reality"

Somewhere in Subspace (February 1st, 2044)
The Einherjar (11:00 A.M., Earth Standard)
Holo-Training Room

Cayden looked around the room, this being the first time he was in the holo-training room, knowing he would not be able to keep his powers suppressed for too long. Taking a deep breath, Cayden pulled down his shirt and took the necklace in his hand, looking at it reprehensibly. Taking it off, Cayden could feel of surge of power within himself, looking down at his hands as if he gained twenty pounds. The feeling made Cayden sick to his stomach, as if the psionic power going through him was tainted. He would just practice long enough to stretch his psionic arms out.

Closing his eyes, Cayden prepared himself as he gave a verbal command to start the simulation. A few stationary targets appeared and Cayden held out both his hands, fire erupting into balls in each of them, Cayden throwing each and both targets being engulfed in fire, disappearing into pixels as the next rounds of targets appeared out of nowhere.

Three flying targets zipped around in the air and Cayden locked his eyes on one, holding up his hand and his eyes glowing red as the target went down in a smoking wreck. Locking eyes with another target Cayden tried to engulf it as well but he found that he had to be concentrating harder in order to make it happen.

Shaking his head, the soldier looked at multiple objects strewn about the room, looking at a small rock he picked it up with telekinesis, following his target for a little while before chucking the rock and hitting the target.

Next, two more targets appeared, these ones mobile and armed, immediately firing at Cayden. Moving without thinking, he was behind a crate as the shots hit where he used to be standing, the targets taking up positions of their own. Being suppressed behind his crate, Cayden had to think his way out of the situation, looking at the cover one of the targets was behind and getting an idea.

Outstretching his hand, a small glow surrounded the cover slowly and Cayden picked it up with some effort, the target scrambling away but Cayden throwing the crate against it, pinning it against the wall and crushing it on contact.

The second target moved away from it’s moveable cover and tried to get to a more stationary one. However, Cayden was already out of his cover and the target’s head was ignited with fire and the target rolled around in agony before finally ‘dying’ and disappearing into nothingness.

The soldier felt a small moment of satisfaction at the target’s death but he shook his head to clear it and realized that he had a distinct ringing in his ears. Pushing it off as just getting used to his powers, Cayden took a deep breath and ended the simulation, knowing already how well his powers were doing.

Going back to the lessons his dad had given him, Cayden sat down cross legged in the center of the room, putting his arms in his lap and closing his eyes, taking a deep breath and began collecting energy within himself. Holding out his hand, Cayden tried to imagine the spiraling of the sphere in his hand, trying to push his power outward in it’s raw form in order to form a power that eluded him always, his father’s famous ‘Pulsar Core’.

Soon, Cayden felt himself slipping, something he had learned to deal with during his time training and he reached out, the outside world slipping away as Cayden knew what was happening. He was entering his dreamscape.

***

When Cayden opened his eyes, he saw that he had indeed found himself in his dreamscape, an occurrence that was not uncommon to himself when he was training with his father, the method he had taught Cayden for the dreamscape and to bring up the elusive power being very similar.

Smirking at his ability to do it so easily, he looked around, taking in the space around him, or what little of it there was. He had entered his father’s well detailed dreamscape before, but his paled in comparison as there was nothing. The dreamscape looked misty, as if there was multiple smoke machines on overdrive, the smoke almost everywhere that swirled when Cayden moved. The floor was wet but not at all deep, as if there was a layer of water overtop a glassy black floor. There was no sky, just pure black.

Having enough of being inside his mind, Cayden closed his eyes and tried to let go of the dreamscape, trying to let it slip away so he could enter the real world again. However, when he opened his eyes, he was still in the dreamscape, Cayden looking around confused and trying again, still stuck inside the dreamscape. “What the hell...’ He said out loud, shaking his head as to why he could not do it. Worse case scenario, he would just pass out from exhaustion and wake up in the real world when he did, or another psion would find him and help him out. However long either of which would take, he didn’t know.

“But I have always been able to leave with no problem...what gives?” There was the sound of footsteps on the watery floor and Cayden turned around at the noise, though when he listened closer again the footsteps were behind him again. As he turned around, the sound never changed position but as they got closer, they grew louder and seemed to echo off invisible walls, Cayden growing weirded out.

“What is going on...who is there!?” Cayden yelled out, his own voice carrying an echo to it as if he was experiencing a dream. As the footsteps got closer, Cayden’s vision grew blurry and seemed to swim as well as his head as he got extremely dizzy, almost stumbling over as voices filled his head, soft whispers at first before growing louder and louder as did the footsteps.

“Who is there!?!” Cayden yelled again, screaming with as much anger as well as fear.

When Cayden turned around his skin scrawled and goosebumps rolled over his body as the space immediately got colder, even though Cayden seemed to be sweating. His eyes widened in fear as he was met face to face with a shadowy figure with burning red eyes, standing taller than Cayden himself.

“You will serve…” It said, it’s voice rumbling like thunder, his mouth seeming to be filled with fire just like his eyes.

“W-What...who…?” Cayden had a feeling he knew who, or what he was staring at and a familiar feeling of terror cropped up in him as he took a step back. “No…”

“You will serve…” It said again louder, taking a step closer.

“No...this isn’t real...it can’t be...this is a dream...you can’t hurt me…what do you mean serve...who...?” Cayden said like a scared kid cowering from the dark.

A hand reached out and grabbed Cayden by his throat, lifting him into the air as a tendril of red reached out from the thing’s head and into Cayden’s, his mind searing in pain as he thrashed around in the monster’s grip. “YOU WILL SERVE ME!”

Cayden yelled out in pain and the world broke away as if a hammer hit glass, and the world fell away.

***

When Cayden’s eyes snapped open he was breathing hard as if he was out of breath, his mind throbbing as if he had a horrible migraine. As Cayden blinked a few times to clear up his vision, his eyes widened in horror as a perfect, red sphere was spiraling in his hand, humming with a low drone.

Cayden yelled out and the sphere dispersed like a popped bubble, Cayden crawling back until he felt his back hit the wall. A slight tickle on his upper lip made him instinctively reach for it and when he pulled away his fingers he hand began to shake uncontrollably as there was blood on his fingers.

Wiping away the blood, his migraine seemed only to grow as the menacing voice boomed in his head like a vague memory and Cayden fumbled his hand into his pocket, basically ripping the necklace out and throwing it around his neck, his body beginning to feel lighter as the psionic power was pushed back within him and the ‘tainted’ power slipped away.

Cayden’s head still hurt horribly and he curled up into the fetal position, beginning to hyperventilate as his whole body shuddered as the grown man began to cry, wiping away the blood that had dripped from his nose, not knowing what he saw or what he had felt inside his mind, but knowing that somehow he knew the answer but the name unknown. Visibly shaking, Cayden stayed where he was without moving, only feeling even worse as he could swear he heard laughter in the distance, not sure if it was real, or just a figment of his imagination.

 

[BMPixy]

“The Storyteller”
Somewhere in Subspace
0931 Hours Local; January 30th, 2044
Einherjar, Hangar A

“Thanks again for helping me out with this,” Hayden said, shuffling awkwardly as Lawrence sat hunched besides the hull of her Firestorm, painting tools to his side. Slowly a larger masterpiece - an elderly knight charging on an aging horse, lance couched - grew out before him, some parts still only vague stencils while others had been filled with paint.

“Jeez, would you stop thanking me already? I picked up this talent for a reason, might as well use it,” Lawrence replied, dabbling for a little bit more paint before adding it to the knight’s lance. “Though it’s good that you’re finally accepting that this callsign is gonna follow you forever.”

“More like I’m never gonna convince you guys to change it unless I colossally fuck up somewhere else,” she replied, leaning back on a nearby crate. “And considering that I don’t plan on doing that anytime soon, might as well get used to it.”

“So essentially you just said ‘no, but yes’,” the Luxembourger analyzed. “Got it.” Another swab of paint, and the helmet’s plume grew in aged vibrance. “Though on the bright side, at least you’re half-way to ace,” Lawrence added, nodding his head towards the two and a half Jolly Rogers he had painted earlier.

“Eh, that’s only because partial kill credit is a thing that we do here,” Hayden said dismissively. “Only would be one kill were it not for that.”

“One more kill than most pilots see in their careers,” he responded. “After all, most XSDF pilots are probably sitting around at some base in Russia with their thumbs up their ass, drinking their days away.”

“Speaking of that, how’s Vincent doing?” the New Zealander asked, a hint of concern slipping into her voice.

“Last I heard is that Edge is trying to talk him out of his funk,” Lawrence offered neutrally, now adding the coat of arms to the knight’s shield. “Though from how pissed he was a Addington, it might be a couple days before we see him fully sober.”

“Yeesh, I knew he was pissed, but that much?” Hayden shook her head. “I mean, I know Addington was an ass, but why’d Driz get so angry?”

“He insisted that Vincent was a poor pilot,” the other pilot said. Upon glancing over and seeing Nelson’s confused expression, Lawrence asked, “Oh, you didn’t know why Vince joined?”

“No, only been with you guys for a couple months now, remember?” Don stated.

“Right, not much time for people to elaborate on their backstory when we’re too busy getting drunk and laughing our asses off,” Lawrence said, finishing off the knight’s shield. “Anyways, best get yourself comfortable, this one’s a doozy.”

“I swear, if this is some thing about getting revenge for his father’s death…” Hayden quickly pushed herself up, getting properly seated on the tool bench in preparation.

“Nah, nothing that melodramatic,” Laforge replied with a dismissive shake of his head. “Though, funny thing is, Vincent actually wanted to be an accountant.”

“Wait, then why’d he become a fighter pilot?” she asked. “I mean, sounds like a hell of a detour away from accountant.”

“This might sound a bit cliche, but…” Lawrence paused for a moment, beginning to work on the details of the horse’s tail. “He did it for a girl back home.”

“Really? Always looked at him more as the chivalrous pervert type, not the sacrifice dreams kinda guy,” the New Zealander said.

“Nah, dude’s more loyal to her than some people are to their country. Anyways, Vincent’s girl - Jacky I think her name was - always wanted to be a fighter pilot.”

“I take it there’s a ‘but’ coming up?” Hayden observed.

“Got it in one. She had this neurological condition that completely ruined her spacial reasoning. And, well, I’m certain you know how we need spacial reasoning in this business,” Lawrence said. “So, Vincent, being madly in love with her, decides ‘hey, I’ll become a pilot and take her flying, so she can experience it first hand’. He does so, this act woos her, and they start courting.”

“Alright, but that doesn’t explain why Vince is here,” the other pilot replied. “What gives?”

“He’s helping to fulfill her dream,” the Luxembourger answered. “I mean, even though she got to fly, she never got to be a fighter pilot. So, he joined up with the XSDF, and befriended the first psion he met - Jeff, as you might guess - and now Vince is gathering memories while Edge is learning how to use the dreamscape so that when they finish their tour, Vince can share the memories with Jacky.”

“Huh, that’s pretty romantic,” Hayden said. “Though all this begs the question: how did you find all this out?”

“We met up during basic, kept in contact, and now - by massive coincidence - we all ended up redeployed to the Einherjar,” Lawrence explained with a shrug. “And considering all the drinking we did during basic, it’s no surprise that I learned this stuff.”

“Huh, makes sense, I guess,” Hayden said. “So I suppose that he doesn’t like being called a bad pilot out of some fear that he’ll be providing unworthy memories to Jacky?”

“Clever girl,” Lawrence replied, standing from his position and gathering his materials. “Anyways, that’s my work here done. Just let that sit for a few hours, make sure nobody touches it. Enjoy the nose art you got from a blind man.”

Hayden chuckled slightly. “Thanks for the help LaLa.”

“As I’ve said before, it’s no problem,” he said. “Just a word of warning: don’t do anything stupid with that info I gave you.”

“Just because I tilt at windmills doesn’t mean I’ll go around flapping my lips about this stuff,” she replied with a hearty smile. “Not gonna say a word ‘bout it. Knight’s honor.”

Now it was Lawrence’s turn to chuckle. “Gotcha. Anyways, I’ll be heading out now, need to go put these things away and get cleaned up. Later.”

“See ya,” Hayden said, giving a brief wave as Lawrence walked off. With that, she settled in, realization slowly dawning on her that she now had to bite the bullet on all those times she said she'd rather watch paint dry than do something. "Better than watching grass grow, I guess," she muttered.

 

[Black0ut]

Black0ut and DarkGemini24601: “By Chance”

Somewhere in Subspace (February 1st, 2044)
The Einherjar (3:34 P.M., Earth Standard)
The Bar

At a fairly busy time of the day, Sasha Dragomirov stepped into the bar, walking up to the counter. “Vodka, please,” she requested, not sitting down at one of the chairs. The bartender nodded, and brought her the drink a minute later. Sasha grabbed her shot of vodka from the bartender with a grateful nod. Looking around the room at not really recognizing anyone, she figured she would go sit alone to not attract attention. The soldier started walking towards a booth in the back, but ran into someone along the way, falling to her knees and dropping her glass. Reflexively, she reached out to it with her telekinesis, an orange glow stopping the glass centimeters from the ground. What the hell was he thinking? Sasha thought as she looked up at the person she had run into.

Thomas blinked in surprise, by the tiny person he had bumped into. Ahh... crap. I should have been more cautious… well I guess I’ll buy her a drink for the one she just dropped. Wearing his usual frown, Thomas went to help her up and noticed the drink hadn’t actually spilled. As Thomas pulled the girl up, he noticed her drink had a weird glow. and suddenly realization hit Thomas. She’s a psionic. Cool. That should help improve everyone’s chances of survival during our next mission...well if she is a part of our deployment team.Thomas’ frown faded and he said, rather kindly “Apologies. Did not see you there. I space out sometimes. I… tend to do that a lot. To make up for this accident let me buy ya a drink.”

Sasha knelt down to retrieve her vodka. “Um… sure, but I have to finish this one first,” she explained, drinking some of the vodka. She sighed in disappointment as she saw someone sit down in the last empty booth. So much for having a place to myself…

Thomas escorted the woman to the bar stools, so as not to be rude. This woman seems to be a bit anti-social… I wonder why? And I haven’t asked her name. Thomas cleared his throat and then asked “If it doesn’t bother you much, what is your name?”

“Sasha Dragomirov,” the brown-haired Russian-American answered, finishing off her shot. “What about you?”

Thomas ordered a Bloody Mary and then replied “Thomas. But call me by my last name: Wolfe. By the way, what drink do you want?”

“Probably just a white wine,” Sasha responded. Even if we don’t pay for our drinks anyway, I suppose that’s nice of him…

Call out to the bartender, Thomas said “Hey, could you get me your finest white wine?” Turning to back to Sasha, “So, are you a psionic?” The man asked bluntly. “I remember that drink you were holding previously had a weird orange glow.”

“I am,” Sasha answered, twisting one of the green ends of her hair absently. “Though we’re not supposed to use our powers except for training or in combat… I wasn’t keen on being cut by shattering glass, though.”

Thomas coughed and looked away embarrassed that he almost hurt somebody. Turning back to Sasha after a few moments, Thomas asked “Where did you used to live? One of the colonies or somewhere in Eurasia?”

“Russia. I grew up in St. Petersburg, but for my military career I went between Moscow and a few other cities,” Sasha informed him, receiving her white wine with a quiet ‘thank you’ and taking a sip of it.

Noticing Sasha’s drink had arrived, Thomas had turned to find that his B.M. had already arrived. Interesting… perhaps...Nah, it’s a stupid idea. If I ask her about that there's a good chance that she’ll be pissed off at me. Instead… “Grew up in Britain. Left with my mom because my father was having an affair. Raised in America. Started my military career early. Enrolled at West Point. Lost my right arm when I was 16, to a Se-er- Plasma bolt. Dropped out of West Point, To help people who had sustained injuries in the war. After the War, I inherited alot of money from my dad. Funded a cybernetics research lab. Nothing like Exalt or Cross. Just a small business that worked where everyone liked each other and worked efficiently…”

Thomas’ eyes glazed over and, for a second, he was back at the lab. he remembered that night when he gave the company away to his right hand man, so he could join the XSDF. They celebrated as soon as he left the main office. The things they had shouted in their merriment… too horrible to recall. Shaking his head slightly. Thomas switched his expression back to the stoic mask he often used, to hide the hurt look on his face. “But I left that behind so I could join the XSDF.” Thomas finished, taking his drink and downing it quickly.

Sasha shrugged. “Not much to my story, really. Graduated from high school, joined the military, served my country for six years. Didn’t really make any lifelong friends there, most of them were temporary since I got reassigned a few times. Only major thing I did was help in wiping out the Humanity Defensive headquarters, but I was there for support, not fighting on the frontlines. The XSDF did that part.”

Thomas, noticing she didn't say anything about her childhood, asked, “So what happened before your high school graduation, if you don’t mind me asking?”

Sasha shifted uncomfortably on her chair, shaking her head. “Nothing important… I’d… rather not talk about it. Don’t have anything memorable about those days.”

Thomas became more intrigued but decided not to push the matter. “Ok. Sorry I brought it up.” Feeling uncomfortable as well, Thomas got up to leave, but paused and looked at Sasha “If you didn't mind it ,We could work out together on a regular basis… if you wanted.” Thomas offered. Thomas, then, turned and proceeded to walk away, leaving his offer with Sasha.

 

[Frostlich1228]

DarkGemini24601 & Frostlich1228: "An Apple Far From The Tree"

Somewhere in Subspace (February 1st, 2044)
The Einherjar (4:26 P.M., Earth Standard)
Hyperwave Communications Room

Camellia stepped into the communications room, looking around to see it was almost completely empty. She had heard the Commander was being stringent about calls, but she never thought to this extreme. She would’ve come earlier but she had heard they were being used for official communications, putting her on a hefty wait list. Winter sat down in one of the chairs to contact her mother’s personal computer at Cross Tech HQ, after all, she had to have arrived back home by now. With about a dozen keystrokes, she typed in her mother’s personal contact number and hit enter, waiting for the system to connect to Cross Tech servers.

It took a few minutes, but a quick confirmation message flashed on Camellia’s screen, and then an image of Buniq replaced it. The chryssalid hybrid was wearing her typical combination of a violet long-sleeved shirt and black pants, not in business attire like she had been on her trip. She smiled pleasantly, asking, “How is it up there in space?”

Winter giggled, “Space-y. Lot’s of stars though, too bad my room doesn’t actually have a window.”

“I heard that there were two Dragomirovs on board,” Buniq intoned. “How have they been doing? I only knows bits and pieces that I gathered from their parents when I visited Russia.”

“Great!” Camellia replied, “Sasha was actually one of my first patients, she’s seems like she’s doing really well ever since well… you know… Time will only tell how much these battles will affect her though… Haven’t talked to Mikky yet, but considering I’m a psychiatrist that’s probably a good thing.”

Buniq raised an eyebrow. “I’m not so sure how he’ll feel about that nickname after all this time… and as for Sasha, I trust that she’ll be able to make it through. I… I mean, if someone like me can fight, I think she can hold it together. But anything she can’t deal with on her own she’ll have you for, which I’m sure puts her mind at ease. Have there… been any battles yet?”

“We ran into some pirates just past the Kuiper belt… That’s a little bit past Pluto. I watched the helmet feed and they didn’t seem like that much of a threat, most of them surrendered when they saw who they were up against and no one really got hurt.” Winter replied, “They were bickering a lot though, was it anything like that when you were in X-Com?”

Buniq tapped her finger against the counter for a moment. “Not… often. There was an occasional disagreement but they were united in their purpose. I… I suppose there isn’t as pressing of an issue solving cohesion issues for the XSDF right now.”

“And I guess when the fate of the world is at stake people tend to band together and form tighter bonds.” Camellia sighed, “There seems to be a lot of fighting going around right now…”

“Besides the mission?” Buniq inquired curiously.

“I’ve overheard pilots going on and on about their terrible fleet commander, talking about how arrogant he is. Then there’s the Commander, commander, who seems like she’d stab you in the back as soon as shake your hand, I would’ve called you earlier but she locked the comm room up for ‘official use’, I wouldn’t even been able to use it at all if not for the fact that I’m considered an essential staff member.”

Buniq sighed. “So she’s no Morrigan, huh… I get that Miss Brea can’t be in charge forever, but what an awful replacement she has…” The hybrid blinked, her expression going pale. “You don’t think… she monitors these conversations, do you?”

Camellia’s eyes widened, “I uh- Why would she! She’s great! Awesome… Commander... heh...”

The older woman rubbed her forehead, sincerely hoping her hunch was wrong. “In any case… is there anything else you were interested in talking about?”

“My psionic training is going well. Although, it might be hard to practice here, I’ve heard the Commander doesn’t exactly trust psionics all that much, but since Vindicta is here, hopefully I’ll be able to train with her without getting in trouble.” She smiled, “And no Co-ed showers! That means that people aren’t going to get all freaked out by the alien DNA thing.”

“Congratulations, you have a luxury a lot of us at XCOM didn’t,” Buniq said with a laugh. “And I’m sure Ms. Exalt will be more than helpful… even considering her personality.”

“Or lack there of.” Winter replied, “Kidding... You’ll uh… Make sure mom doesn’t worry too much while I’m away, right?”

“Of course. The Einherjar’s probably safer than any other ship in the XSDF fleet besides the supra-battleships.” Buniq smiled. “I’ll hold down the fort here.”

“You know, all the stories I’ve heard about how you and mom met make me hope I’ll be able to bring someone back with me, didn’t really work out in college, but hopefully someone will be able to like me for me.”

Buniq shrugged. “Maybe, though I’m not the romantic here, I couldn’t really tell you how that all works out. It just… does.”

Camellia’s head shot up a little as she remembered something, “Oh! Grandpa’s doing good too right? I wanted to call him too but this all the time I could get. Wasn’t he working on that custom legion frame for Mom?”

“Progress is good, though I don’t get why exactly she needs it,” Buniq responded, rubbing her neck. “Not like we’re going to get attacked by a bunch of aliens again.”

“Because it’s awesome?” She added, smiling, “And uncle Isitoq?”

Buniq shrugged. “Last I heard he was working on some project with Poinsettia and Asher. Not sure what it is, but they don’t want anyone to find out early.”

“I’ll look forward to seeing it when I get home! You know… This is probably the last time I’m going to get to talk to you for a long time…” A little tear rolled down Winter’s cheek, “I’m going to miss you…”

Buniq shook her head. “It shouldn’t be that long… it’s just a minor dispute. I’m sure you’ll be back in the Sol System in no time, or at least close.”

“Yeah… It’s been great talking to you again Mom. I promise I’ll pay you a visit the next chance I get!”

Buniq nodded. “And I’m sure you’ll have another.” With a quick wink, she turned off the communicator.

Camellia smiled, but then turned around quickly, expecting to see the Commander standing right behind her. She sighed, grateful that the scolding she was probably going to get would be delayed just a little longer.

 

[MarineAvenger]

"Bitter Sweet"

Somewhere in Subspace (February 1st, 2044)
The Einherjar (2:00 P.M., Earth Standard)
Bar

Nick strode into the bar, looking around in a little wonder as he had never been in the establishment before, never needing to but since he had been working so hard, he thought he deserved a little treat. Having left Glitch on his computer running some updates on his programming, he walked up to the bar and climbed up on a stool, the bartender approaching and eyeing him with curiosity.

“Sorry kid, have to be at least 18 to be served.” The bartender said, a younger man with facial hair and blonde hair.

Nick scrunched up his nose in anger and he said, “I am...not a kid. I work on the ship.”

“Look, go down to the cafeteria or go back to your room with your mom or dad.” He said, not annoyed but in a caring voice, as if he was speaking to his own son.

Nick quickly grew frustrated and he reached into his winter coat pocket, taking out his I.D. badge and showing it to the bartender. “I do work here…”

Taking a look at it, he raised an intrigued eyebrow but ultimately shook his head. “I still can’t serve you alcohol. So why-”

“I don’t want alcohol, all I want is a drink of something. Don’t you have...anything?” The young engineer asked, looking more than a little irritated and his stubbornness showing he wasn’t going to leave.

The bartender sighed, looking at Nick and crossing his arms, the two staring each other down before the bartender nodded, walking over to the side of the bar and doing something that he couldn’t see. After a few minutes, he walked back over and set down a large styrofoam cup with plastic top and straw, Nick looking at it curiously. “You wanted something, you got something.”

The young engineer took the cup in hands, the styrofoam a little cool to the touch which made Nick even more curious. Putting his lips on the straw, he took a big sip and his tastebuds lit up as the cold and sweet taste of vanilla filled his mouth. “A vanilla milkshake?”

The bartender nodded, looking around and saying, “Not a lot of people here know I am able to make them so we will keep this between us for a little while, alright? This is really a bar for the soldiers and staff and I wouldn’t want this place to be swarmed with any kids on the ship.”

Nick nodded in understanding and he said, “Yeah, just between us.” Nick took another sip and he swallowed it briskly, wanting to ask, “Why vanilla? Do you have any other flavors?”

The bartender shook his head. “No, just that flavor. For some reason or another, we aren’t really allowed to have a lot of chocolate products aboard. I think it is a pretty stupid rule but...I am not the higher ups.”

A little disappointed, Nick just nodded his head and enjoyed the cold treat. “Thank you.”

“Yeah, no problem.” Looking at the end of the bar, he walked away to go attend to some other patrons and Nick got off his stool, leaving the bar and walking out, planning to return to his office to see how far Glitch’s download had got.

About a minute after walking out of the bar, three large men were walking down the hallway, shoulder to shoulder and taking up pretty much the entire hallway. Nick tried to squeeze in on the left, but was shouldered into the wall, the three men laughing as Nick shook his head. “Pigheads.”

The man on the left stopped walking with the others and slapped the one in the middle on the chest, talking to them and all three turning around to look at Nick and they approached him. “What did you say runt?”

Nick looked at the three men, each looking fairly similar to the last. They were all large and muscled, reminding Nick of three slightly smaller and more hair Balmadaars. The one on the left had no facial hair and his brown hair cut short, the one in the middle having a blonde goatee and shaved head, and the one on the right had no hair at all. All three were wearing engineering suits, and all could probably snap Nick in half. “N-Nothing.”

The one on the left chuckled and shook his head. “Oh no...you said something. Out with it.”

“I-I said...nothing…” Nick stated nervously, backing away slightly.

“Come on Brett, don’t be so hard on the little baby.” The man in the middle said, looking at Nick with an amused look.

“Shut up Malcom.” Brett told him, looking back at Nick and taking a step forward. “Come on kid...speak up. What...did...you...say?”

“I-I am not a kid, you pig head.” Nick told him defiantly, his fist curled up in anger.

“I suggest you run back to your parents kid. You wouldn’t want to get hurt now, would you?” Brett said, his voice mimicking a baby’s.

“I...am not a kid!” Nick yelled. “My name is Nicholas Cauthon...and I am not a kid! And you remember it!”

The three men shared a look, and all three laughed at Nick’s show of anger. “You here this kid Frank?” All three men approached Nick and he backed up. “So...you are the hotshot that the guys upstairs have around as a pet. We will tell you one thing kid...we don’t like hotshots.” Brett sent a fist into Nick’s stomach and he dropped to his knees, grabbing his stomach as the wind was knocked out him. All three of the men laughed and Frank noted, “Looks like he was all bark and no bite. Now stay down like a nice little pet.”

As all three of them turned around, Nick took a deep breath in pain and he yelled, “I-I know...your names! I will...report you!”

This stopped them in their tracks and Brett turned around, walking back up to Nick and grabbing him by the collar of his winter coat. “You won’t say a thing boy. ‘Cause if you make us lose our jobs, you are going to regret it.” Brett hit Nick again, this time in his ribs to make his point clear and shoved the teen to the ground, walking away steaming and the other two following looking a lot more worried.

Nick didn’t want to cry but he groaned out in pain, a tear rolling down his cheek without him realizing. Quickly wiping it away, Nick dragged himself to sit up on the wall and he took deep breaths and unzipped his jacket, pulling up his shirt underneath and saw two large bruises on both his stomach and ribs, already a deep purple. Nick tried his best not to cry from the stinging pain but he just tried to breath through it, not believing what had happened.

He looked down the hallway and saw no one at all who had witnessed what happened and he was scared of the warning the men had given him, pulling down his shirt and zipping his jacket back up, slowly getting to his feet but his chest was sore and every time he moved he ached. Just putting an arm over his stomach, Nick looked down at the cup on the floor that had miraculously not spilled when he dropped it and he picked it up, taking a sip and allowing himself the one comfort, standing there in the hall not wanting to go back to his A.I. just yet, knowing full well Glitch would ask why he would be walking so funny.

And I can’t go to the infirmary...they would ask questions and then… Nick shook his head, just allowing himself to try and just wait for the pain to pass. No one can know...no one… He decided, fearing the retaliation of the big engineers again.

 

[DarkGemini24601]

XSDF Stellar Mission
Pirate Station Assault
Operation Swift Tumult

System: Quismar
Planet: N/A
Location: Sergiha Station
Date: February 1st, 2044
Time: 7:05 P.M., GMT

Mission Details:

We received a tip a few hours ago that a scout’s sensor had picked up an artificial satellite in orbit around the brown dwarf star Quismar, not very far from the Bronze Nova System. Accordingly, we dropped out of FTL to get a better look ourselves. Observation revealed it was a space station constructed within a safe orbit of the star. It appears to be of Replitan design, which does suggest it is perhaps a haven for pirates.

Send a force to investigate, and if they are indeed pirates, force their surrender or destroy their station.

Pilot Compliment: A Wing composed of the two Stingray Squadrons

Pilot’s Names:

Atlantic Wing

Pelican Squadron

[Flight T1, “Nebula”]
**SA Hideyoshi, Takigawa
AFC Shin’en (Psi Panic, Mindfray)
AFC Gashi, Szymon
AFC Volclain, Clement
[Flight T2, “Manganese”]
*AFC Slament, Raharjo (Ultraviolet Vision)
AFC Villalobos, Fidel
AFC Akpabio, Aali
AFC Xi Han, Shun
[Flight T3, “Iron”]
*AFC Balasubramanian, Rajani (Neural Feedback)
AFC Yar’Adua, Nayram (Neural Dampening)
AFC Zambrano, Itzal
AFC Iwan, Justyna

Manta Squadron

[Flight K, “Copper”]
**SA Minami, Yuuna
AFC White, Hudson
AFC Pranav, Madadeo
AFC Johnston, David
[Flight K2, “Vanadium”]
4 Redshirts
[Flight K3, “Gray Ghost”]
4 Blueshirts

***Wing Leader
**Squadron Leader
*Flight Leader
Italics are player characters.

Gear:
Weapons: Gauss or Pulse Cannon(s) for regular fighter craft; Plasma Cannon(s) for squadron leaders and destroyers
Items: Defensive Matrix, Tracking Cortex, Uplink Targeting, Elerium Afterburner Fuel

Mission Objectives:

1. Surrender or destruction of the space station, should it turn out to belong to a pirate faction.

 

[DarkGemini24601]

Alzdude28 and DarkGemini24601:
“Operation Swift Tumult, Part 1”
The Einherjar

Addington stood at the forefront of the bridge on the Einherjar, having brought up his analysis screen, currently empty of any starfighter information other than the basic overview on a different page. The Commander was nearby while her second was in the barracks, ready to rouse the troops if a breach of the space station became necessary. It shouldn’t, though. “Let’s see… Phoenix was just out in combat, and the station doesn’t appear to be that large. Probably best to just send in the Atlantic Wing, then.” He clicked Pelican and Manta squadron on his list of squadrons, and the ship information showed up, though all the readouts were currently empty with the ships not active yet.

The fleet coordinator tapped his mic, connecting to the pilot quarters, designated as room wing G. “This is SkyEye. Pelica and Manta Squadrons, report to your fighter craft. We have confirmed the existence of an unauthorized space station in the system, and we’re sending you to investigate. The Einherjar will maintain connections via the hyperwave communicators attached to your squadron leaders’ craft, but we will not follow you directly. I doubt this will be much of a battle, so we don’t need to assist you, as the battleship is more detectable and would get in your way. We’re a quick FTL jump away, though.”

As the Stingray icons on his holographic screen started to light up with pilot vitals and names, Addington crossed his arms, waiting for them all to be full. In ten minutes they were, and he announced, “Without further ado, let’s go root out some space rats.”

In the hangar, Hide finished his pre-flight checks. “Pelican squadron, prepare to launch. Rendezvous at sector 3-3-6. Form echelon and await orders.” He called over the ship-to-ship radio. He was answered with a chorus of “Roger, Pelican Leader.” Hide sat back in his seat, and started the launch procedure.

Moments later he was floating free of the Einherjar as the rest of his squadron formed up around him. He looked out to his left. There was Shin’en, exactly where he should be. On his right Volcain was matching his Stingray’s velocity with his own. Glancing at his 6 he saw Gashi approaching the formation. They’re managing well enough for now. I just hope none of the rookies go to pieces at the first sign of a fight... With this thought he adjusted the position of his microphone and called back to the Einherjar. “Pelican squadron, standing by.”

“Roger that,” Khumalo acknowledged. “And Manta?”

“This is Crane,” Yuuna responded from her craft. “We’re in position and following behind the wing leader’s squadron.” Going silent on her connection to Addington, she added to Hideyoshi, “Let’s just hope this is as quick and clean as SkyEye thinks it’s going to be.”

“Copy that Crane. Pelican, move towards target, maintain 100 km separation.”

Atlantic Wing soared through the void, able to faintly make out a planet a long way off, but other than that, visually, the Quismar system seemed very empty. Even as they came within a light second of the space station there was no way to visually confirm it. However, transmission bounceback zeroed in on the location of the artificial structure. It was not very large, being composed of five hangars joined by two cylindrical supports, facing one direction. The other direction had two more supports linked to those on the other side, and held together what was probably fuel and supply rooms, and maybe one or two habitable sections.

“Got the readout,” Minami spoke over comms, looking over the structure on her screen. “Doesn’t look like it would sustain anyone for any length of time… is it some sort of dropping off point?”

“No markings either,” Mahadeo added. “It has to be a pirate station…”

“Are they not responding to any attempt at communication?” SkyEye inquired.

“No… I… wait, message coming through…” The response from the station appeared on the side screens of both of the squadron leaders as the bottom three hangars of the station opened up.

“You can die.”

Zipping out from the hangars, four from each one, was a squadron of streamlined, black fighters with wings parallel to the craft’s main body, their length doing up and down rather than as a wingspan. Their cockpits were nearly as dark as their frames, and they had a total of six cannons, three on each side. Four were pulse guns, and the central one on either side was a gauss cannon. A green fang surrounded by a triangle finally confirmed who this space station belonged to: the pirate group known as “Venom”.

“Rapiers?” Addington said with shock evident on his features. “That’s what they were storing in such a small base!” The fleet coordinator quickly reopened his channel to the fighter pilots. “Careful, those things are equipped with stealth technology! You won’t be able to-” Before he was even able to finish that truth was confirmed, as one by one the Rapiers disappeared from the sight of both visual and radar instruments, becoming one with the void of space.

“Kuso.” Hide muttered under his breath. “Hold position, watch your sixes. Prepare to fall back if the command is given.”

“We can still deal with this… shift positions, cover all six directions!” The fleet coordinator held the sides of the console, his knuckles turning while as Astasha watched him with her unchanging cold expression. Come on, we can do this… if Atlantic can’t do it alone we could send in our shifters, use their own trick against them!

Hide stared out at the blackness around him. Come on… show yourselves… He looked around at the other crafts arrayed around him. Keep it together…

As the final craft started to shift to cover the last blind spot, the sword fighters struck. One decloaked, prompting the repositioning Vanadium Flight to scramble to take aim at them. “This is Vanadium leader, target sighted!”

“Careful, Vanadium, they’ve got some trick-” Crane managed to warn before the front of the revealed Rapier split open, and a spherical blue pulse shot out, fading away but having dire consequences. More than half of Manta’s shields went down, disrupted by the EMP pulse. They fired at the offending fighter, but the Rapier kicked its alignment jets in hard enough to blow them out, but the momentum kicked it below the line of fire.

The other Rapiers took the distraction to reveal themselves, eight becoming visible, four above and four to the right in flights. The upper flight fired off their gauss cannons and their payloads in a swarm of 24 gauss rockets totally. The rail-accelerated missiles found targets, assisting the cannons in ripping through the defenseless Vanadium. One ship exploded in a contained fireball and shattering metal, and two others quickly following suit, while Vanadium leader was damaged but not out. “S-Shit, someone-!” he managed to choke out in fear before the gauss cannons ripped through him at roughly the same time as Gray Ghost started firing pulse cannons at the enemy flight.

“Vanadium is… gone!” Yuuna gasped, trying to reposition her own flight to avoid suffering the same fate. “Scatter, scatter!” The other flight battered Pelican with their pulse weapons in an initial burst, before engaging their thrusts again and firing, counting on their swift movement over their relatively weak shielding. The first enemy flight’s shields were nearly down, but they scattered, following downwards to the left of the initial attacker.

“Damn it!” Addington cried out. “Forget the previous idea, we’re sitting ducks like this! Move! The Einherjar is coming into assist.”

“Khumalo…” Astasha intoned from behind the fleet commander, and he slowly turned to face her.

“W-What, sir?”

Astasha glanced at the helmsman. “Get the FTL up as quickly as possible.” Looking back at Addington coldly, she merely said, “Salvage this. I won’t be happy if I have to.”

 

[Alzdude28]

Alzdude28 and DarkGemini24601:
“Operation Swift Tumult, Part 2”
Near the Venom Space Station


“Nebula, Manganese, break, engage Rapiers, Iron get clear and watch for enemy reinforcements.” Takigawa shouted into the radio, pushing the throttle forward, hard, and rolling up and over in as close to an Immelman turn as was possible without air. He dropped down behind one of the Rapiers, firing a burst of plasma at it. The rounds punched into the craft’s armour, not doing enough damage to destroy it, but forcing the pilot to disengage from the Manganese flight fighter. Was that Xi Han? He quickly spun his Stingray around, looking for where the next danger was coming from.

On his left Gashi was being pursued by a Rapier, pumping rounds into his engines. The defence matrix was keeping the worst of it off him, but would it be enough? Below him one of Iron flight had taken a missile and was trying to limp away, but a Rapier had spotted them. Shit… I’d have the advantage if I dive onto Iron’s attacker… but I can’t leave Gashi… Shit!

After a moment’s hesitation, he kicked the rudder to the left. “Hang in there Tooth, I’m coming.” Hide dropped slightly below the rapier, making him harder to spot, then closed the distance between them before opening fire with his cannons at close range. Plasma ripped through the cockpit of the Rapier, which rolled to the side as the pilot slumped against the controls. “Turtle, splashed one bandit.”

“This is Crane,” Yuuna intoned with an icy tinge to her voice, banking around one of the ones from the right and sending bolts of plasma into its engine, prompting it to explode. “Iced another one of these motherfuckers.”

“Keep it up, we’re engaging warp now!” Addington offered as the gravimetric field wrapped around the Einherjar. “Just hold on a little longer!”

“Roger that… but…!” Yuuna responded as one of her flight’s starfighters was cleaved in half by pulse fire. “Hudson!” The rest of her flight soon avenged their fallen, finally tearing through the shields of the right flanking enemies with the help of Gray Ghost, eliminating two more of the enemy and prompting the remaining one to join up with the initial attacker.

“Five of them left, but there’s three hiding somewhere,” Copper Four warned.

“Maybe trying to finish Manta off!” the Fleet Coordinator guessed, but noticed something on his overview that contradicting that statement. “Scratch that, look out, Nebula! They’re decloaking on you!”

As he said this a scream came over the radio, cutting off abruptly. Hide looked at the display. Volclain’s icon had disappeared. Looking out of the cockpit, a fireball marked his last position. Another voice broke in “Those bastards killed Clement!”

Hide tried to maintain some order. “Tooth, calm down. Focus on keeping yourself alive.” It was too late. Gashi had panicked. He spun his Stingray around, firing blindly at the oncoming Rapier. The pulse cannons on Gashi’s ship pinged off the engine cowling. Then the gauss rounds from the Rapier hit Gashi’s fuel tanks. Another fireball bloomed in the darkness. “Shit!” Hide looked towards Shin’en. He looked shaken, but resolute. “This is a shitstorm. We need to get out. Pelican flight, fall back to the Einherjar’s rendezvous point. I’ll cover the retreat.”

“Copy… Turtle. Falling back.” Shin’en called back, before using his afterburners to accelerate away from the fight. Hide fired across the bows of the pursuing Rapiers, then flew into the centre of the three. They have to worry about hitting each other now. The advantage returns to me.

The Rapiers ceased their attacks, finally showing an ounce of caution, and tried to pull back, radio chatter in effect to try and regroup the eight remaining into proper flights. This was spoiled when a shot from Hideyoshi got through, blowing one of his opponents out of commission. The small victory was accompanied by a distortion heralding the arrival of the Einherjar, not far from the space station itself.

“If they were so eager to attack us let’s see how eager they are to see their only means of escape vanish,” Astasha muttered to herself, and turned to the weapons officer. “Open fire!” The Einherjar turned her triple-fusion cannon and forward-facing plasma turrets onto the space station, and in a flurry of fire annihilated its shields, structure, and a good deal of its contents in a barrage of blazing fury.

The remaining seven Rapiers seemed to panic as connection was lost, and scattered, but the Einherjar had opened its hangars during the barrage, and made it count. From the shadows of the void, Gallium Flight’s four Shifters phased into view, announcing their arrival with a hail of pulse fire followed by a release of missiles. Four of the Rapiers were wiped out just as surely as they had wiped out Vanadium Flight, leaving only three left. “Let’s take out the trash,” Regina growled over comms.

Hide gritted his teeth and closed in on the closest Rapier. “This is for the Pelicans!” He shouted as his plasma cannons shredded the crippled craft’s engines. Eventually the ship broke apart, scattering fragments of metal across Hide’s view. Oh shit. This isn’t good. Hide realised he was going too fast to avoid the rapidly expanding debris field. There was a series of pings as the wreckage bounced off his Stingray. He ran a quick systems check. Thank goodness. No serious damage.

The other two Venom fighters were blown to bits by a combined attack from all the remaining fighters, but it had certainly come at a price. Seven Stingrays and their pilots would fly no more. “This is… Crane…” Yuuna said, finally letting herself realize how much had been lost. “Mission complete.”

 

[Alzdude28]

Alzdude28 and DarkGemini24601:
“Operation Swift Tumult, Epilogue”
The Einherjar


Addington sat at his command chair, quietly looking over the final results of the battle. Vanadium was completely gone, Copper had lost one of their own, and Nebula two pilots in the disastrous engagement. “It should have been an easy fight,” he muttered to himself, trembling a bit in frustration. “Why would they have goddamn Rapiers in such a small outpost…” Maybe I could have predicted that, but… Addington clutched his head with his hands, overcome with anger at the pirates and himself, and a good deal of grief. Astasha had already left, and her silence was even more terrifying than a reprimand.

Meanwhile, Hide was shutting down his engines, and climbing out of his heavily damaged Stingray. He looked around the hangar. There was none of the chatter that had been present when they left. The pilots were quietly slinking away, while the ground crew tended to the aircraft in silence. He looked to where Minami was leaving her Stingray and walked over to her.

Yuuna shook her head. “I can’t believe we were sent in like this was going to be no big deal… did it even occur to that absolute… idiot… that this might not just be a fucking pirate pleasure retreat?!”

“He’d better have a good excuse for that bullshit. Seven Stingrays down. Two of them from my fucking flight! He sent us in like lambs to the slaughter. Underarmed and underprepared.”

Yuuna nodded. “I’d like to hear that… if he’s got a good reason maybe I won’t be as inclined to want to kick his sorry ass…”

Hide started making his way to the bridge, with Yuuna following close behind. On arrival he knocked calmly on the door. Security let them into the the bridge, most of the staff still milling about with Addington sitting at the front as he was a few minutes ago. He looked up, thinking Astasha had come back, but seemed even more worried by who stood in the doorway. “...Takigawa...Minami...I…”

“What the fuck were you thinking, you piece of no-good, bureaucratic shit!” Hide didn’t give him time to finish. “‘No threat, too small to be a danger.’ Maybe if you spent more time in the field than behind a desk with your thumb up your arse, you’d realise that if someone has the resources to maintain a space station out here, they may also have the resources to fucking defend it!”

“We… we weren’t even expecting something like this!” Addington protested shakily. “There’s no reason for such a strong squadron to be out here in the middle of nowhere!”

“I dunno, maybe they were considering attacking Novum,” Yuuna responded, crossing her arms angrily. “What the hell do you think those other hangars were for? They had raiders in there for sure, dumbass.”

“You should have at least sent out some destroyers, that way we’d have actually posed a threat to the station itself, rather than just looking pretty.”

“I could have sent the Firestorms, sure, but the Novahawks aren’t ready!” Addington spat. “They would have been destroyed more surely...m-more…” he trailed off, lowering his accusing finger, unable to continue.

“So you’re saying that seven pilots is an acceptable loss, but the potential loss of a Firestorm or two is too big a risk?”

“T-That’s not…”

“Then what do you mean!” Yuuna said venomously. “What is your explanation for the comrades we’ve lost due to your blunder?”

Addington took a step back, slowly shaking his head. “N-No...you’re...right. I… s-seven people are dead, and there is...no excuse.” It’s all my fault…

“You’re fucking right there’s no excuse. You need to get your act together. Don’t underestimate the enemy. That’s how people die,” Hide responded.

The fleet coordinator barely nodded, trembling and covering his face with his hands, not wanting to lose the last of his dignity by letting them see him cry. H-How did this happen… I couldn’t have… shouldn’t have… made a mistake like this…

With a last look of disgust, Hide turned on his heels and walked out of the room. “If you’ll excuse me, I have to check on the other member of Nebula.”

Yuuna merely said the following before leaving Addington to his thoughts: “I hope you do feel guilty about this… because you deserve to suffer for letting your arrogance get out of hand and cause this.”

 

[DarkGemini24601]

Mangrale and DarkGemini24601: “So Close Yet So Far”

Somewhere in Subspace (February 2nd, 2044)
The Einherjar (2:46 P.M., Earth Standard)
The Bar

The door hissed open with a depressed sigh, admitting Addington into the bar. The fleet coordinator walked with a lack of his usual confidence, merely dragging himself over to the counter. “Whiskey,” he muttered.

“You’re on duty at this hour, aren’t you?” The bartender responded.

“To hell if I am!” Khumalo growled. “No one’s going to fucking care if you give me one… drink…”

“Rules are rules. Sorry.”

Clenching his fists in frustration, Addington shook his head in disgust, walking over to an empty booth, running his hands through his hair in frustration.

Anja glanced over from the table she and Narcisse were sitting at, shaking her head. “Probably best to not even bother with him… not even sure the asshole doesn’t deserve to feel like shit after everything that’s happened. Wouldn’t be surprised if the Commander booted him out the airlock.”

Narcisse frowned as he looked at him from the back for a moment. “I’m sure he probably doesn’t want company at the moment anyway,” he sighed. He gazed into his own drink for a moment. “Too many people pissed at him enough already.”

The German pilot shook her head. “That’s to be expected if you send our least equipped fighters into a battle without knowing what we were going to face. Sure, it would have sucked to make Phoenix deal with another mission so soon, but it would have been safer. That’s just common sense,” Anja stated, crossing her arms. “Seven people are dead because of that blunder… I hear the Gray Ghosts were either sent to other flights to fill the gap, or put in reserve. All that’s left of Manta is Copper, and all they can do is escort duty now.”

“Oh really? Damn…” Narcisse replied hesitantly. “I wonder… You think he ever lost ships under his command before?” He turned his head towards her slightly.

Anja scoffed. “The guy’s nineteen, I’m pretty sure he’s never even been in a position like this before. Why they hired him and not some seasoned veteran is beyond me…”

Bellrose retrained his sight on Addington. “Hmm… The first losses of his career... must be hard for him, especially after that ‘orientation’ he gave us.”He scratched his head, and readjusted his glasses, feeling uneasy. “Make yourself out as a genius, only to have this happen.” He then grinned weakly for a split second, letting a bit of air leave his nostrils in tentative amusement. “It seems our great tactician is a human being, after all.”

Anja blinked for a moment, remembering her thoughts from the other day. “Yeah… I guess… he did set himself up for this, you know? All that overconfidence just made defeat all the more soul-crushing.”

“Yeah. Well… doubt he’ll be able to carry himself like that again after this. If something like this was bound to happen sooner or later, might as well be early on.” Narcisse’s voice then turned somber. “I just wish it didn’t take such heavy losses.”

Anja nodded grimly. “I’m just not sure if he’ll come back from it or not, you know? If he doesn’t hopefully we’ll get someone more competent.”

“If he’s half the man he claims to be, he will. He’ll accept his failure and make sure it never happens again.” Narcisse folded his hands around his cup and gazed into it once more. “He’ll never forget those names… as long as…” he stopped short, realizing that he’d begun to trail off, and came to his senses. “O-Or he won't and will get replaced like you said,” he said in a hurry.

Anja’s expression softened. “I won’t pry, but I’m guessing SkyEye isn’t the only one that’s had it rough.”

Caught off guard, Narcisse hastily shook his hands in panic, a look of moderate distress on his face. “What!? N-no! What makes you say…” he notices his black hands. “Oh… right. Forgot.”

Anja raised an eyebrow, adjusting her military cap. “You know you don’t have to tell me anything now, but sooner or later I’m going to get you to voluntarily tell me. We are in the same flight after all, so whether it's in our room, at lunch, or under the influence of a good beer, I’m going to get something out of you,” she concluded with a grin.

Narcisse relaxed, a sense of defeat in the way he wrapped his fingers around his cup. “Um, does it help any if I assure you that it shouldn’t affect my mission performance in any way?” he asked awkwardly with the near futile hope that she be satisfied with that.

The German woman waved her hand dismissively. “Ah, that shit doesn’t matter to me. That’s something Phoebe would be concerned with. I’m just curious, and since she turned out to have a fairly boring past and Shepshut’s not one to divulge, I’ll try my luck with you for now.” Anja frowned. “Still need to get you a callsign, you know. Gets boring calling you ‘you’ or ‘Narcisse’ all the time.”

Bellrose straightened a few fingers and dipped his head down, rather embarrassed, before lifting it again. “Well... “ he paused to habitually look around to see if anyone was nearby to eavesdrop. “... You see, the thing is… Oh, look at that! I need a refill! Be right back!” he exclaimed with a large smile as he gripped his half finished cup and rose from his seat.

Anja sighed as he walked off, knowing he probably wasn’t coming back. “Damn. Looks like I’ll need to get him drunk next time.” The German took a swig of her beer, and gave a relaxed sigh, looking over at Addington. “Well, beer for Narcisse, and I suppose I’ll get Phoebe to talk to you later, SkyEye,” she muttered under her breath. “I’m guessing you’ll need it, and she’s the only one that can actually tolerate you these days so… good luck, Citrus.”

 

[Alzdude28]

Technical Difficulties

February 3rd 2044
Somewhere in Subspace
The Einherjar, Hangar C
09:28


Brienne had been at her workstation when she received a message telling her that she was to drop everything and report to Hangar C. As commanded she was entering the deck, and immediately it was apparent why she had been called in.

The Hangar was filled with engineers and technicians, bustling around the Stingrays that had seen action in Operation Swift Tumult. A junior engineering officer was standing at the door and greeted her as she came in. “Martinsson, sorry about pulling you away from your work, but I’m sure you can see that these ships are in a sorry state. We’ve got almost everyone who knows which end of a screwdriver to use down here trying to get them back up to flying standard ASAP. You’re to work on the one in Berth 3.”

“Got it.” Brienne replied, walking over to the crippled Stingray.

As she approached she took a look at what remained of the paintwork. It was a Squadron Leader’s that much was apparent. A bird painted on the tail, below it’s designation number, showed it to be Pelican Squadron. They were one of the ones that was badly hit…

Putting her toolbox down, she began to inspect it. Damage to… well, everything. I’m surprised this came back in one piece. She picked up a clipboard from it’s hook and started reading what was already on there. Can’t do much myself about the engines… or the hydraulics… Avionics I can do, and some of the shielding. With that she picked up a maintenance checklist and began the standard procedures.

A few hours later a voice interrupted her as she was rewiring the damaged instruments. “I hope you’re treating my ship well.” She looked up to see a Japanese pilot leaning against the wing.

“This is yours? Maybe you should be the one treating it better. I’m not sure there’s anything left to hold it in one piece.”

“That’s what comes of being sent up against a far superior enemy.”

Brienne looked at the floor. “I’m sorry, I heard about the Fleet Coordinator’s mistake.”

“It was more than just a mistake. That idiot sent us into a deathtrap because he was too arrogant to think there was a threat.” The pilot replied through gritted teeth.

Brienne had nothing to say to that, she shuffled her feet slightly, as an awkward silence settled over them. After a few seconds the pilot continued. “I’m sorry, I just… can’t quite get over it.”

“I understand. You’re Pelican squadron, right? I heard you lost a few in the fighting…”

“Manta had it worse. We only lost two, but they were good pilots, both of them.” His voice caught slightly at this point. “Szymon Gashi and Clement Volclain. Both from my flight. It was their first real combat mission. They didn’t deserve what happened to them.”

Brienne looked down at her work, again not sure what to say. She continued working in silence for several minutes, before the pilot spoke again. “How long do you think before she’ll be flying again?”

Brienne considered for a moment. “The damage is heavy, but not too concentrated. With all the extra engineers working here I’d say a little under a week, although most of the work can be done just as easily be a good team of technicians. The biggest job is going to be replacing the shielding.”

The pilot sighed slightly. “I was worried it would be longer. Anyway, I had best leave you to it.”

“Thanks, I’ll make sure it’s good as new.”

“Gambatte. I hope you’ll make it even better than that.” The pilot turned to go. “By the way, I don’t think I got your name.”

Brienne looked up from the circuitry. “It’s Martinsson. Brienne Martinsson. What was yours?”

“Hide” he called back as he walked away, pointing to the writing under the canopy. Brienne squinted at the words painted there. SA Takigawa “Turtle” Hideyoshi.

Well… back to work I guess. Brienne thought to herself, replacing another wire. I’m just glad I’m not the one flying this.