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Post by fen on Feb 21, 2019 19:43:26 GMT -6
Waves enveloped the Menaulion as it sank into the sea. Its trip to the Atlantic was fraught with trouble, but the ships overwhelming speed when compared to its Martian enemies enabled it to escape. Yet even as the sound of combat quickly died down, anxiety gripped the crew. For one, the sight of the Meleagros as it knelt in the middle of the hangar, the figure of the imposing Highlander missing, didn’t do much to help the crew. The mystery pilot had been quickly and quietly apprehended with hardly a conversation. Yet it was the recovery of Dropkick from the Highlander that sparked the most drama, and the medbay hadn’t been quiet since his recovery.
The bridge didn’t fare much better.
---
“Go and confirm who the pilot is, I want a background check ran asap. After Cain I… I don’t want any risks.”
“Understood,” Jack replied, fingers already tapping away at a tablet resting on a nearby table. Images of the Meléagros’ pilot flashed on the screen. Her features matched the description of a young mechanic he had read about in prior debriefings, but there was only one person now who could confirm that resemblance. He opened his mouth as if to speak, but quickly shut it again.
“Even if they fought off that machine and brought back Roland… I just can’t trust them so easily.”
The communications officer stepped up as Jack moved aside, “Captain, we have a transmission incoming from the Caladbolg. Admiral Forescythe wants to talk.”
“Patch him through.”
A bright, cheery smile greeted the bridge as the visage of the admiral emerged onto the bridge. Despite having suffered the worst losses the ESU have seen during the war, he seemed oddly chipper.
“Glad to see you still in one piece there, Captain!”
To say Adamaris was glaring at him would be doing her a disservice, she was clearly absolutely livid. “I wish I could say the same for-”
“Just about anyone? Yeah, I know what you mean.”
Her grip on her armrest tightened until her knuckles were white. She grit her teeth, her glare barely visible underneath her cap. The ghost of anger that possessed her slowly faded away until it was just her, the same woman as before. Their captain.
“I’m… Sorry. Merlin’s betrayal was a complete blindside.”
“No need to apologize,” He extended his hand, as if to dismiss her worries. “I won’t lie and say that command isn’t looking at you with extra scrutiny, but you’re not the only one to blame for this. As far as we were concerned, his connections made him one of the most untouchable pilots. Guess we were wrong.”
“Does this have any effect on our relationship with Aves?”
“Hmm…” He paused, a finger pressed against his chin. His hologram flickered, causing the admiral to glance away in surprise, before returning his focus. “Apologies, we’ve only just made it to the sub-sahel zone. I’m afraid we’ve lost much of Africa in very little time, but that’s an aside…”
“How much of Africa did we lose, exactly?”
“We’ll talk about that later. For now, don’t worry about his connections. This isn’t public information, so the ESU will handle it internally. Sorry for making this sudden, but let’s move this conversation to your briefing room. Bring your pilots, too.”
The transmission cut out, leaving a mouth-agape, frustrated Adamaris. For once she wished their fleet admiral could be forward- but that might have been asking for too much.
“That would be my cue to retrieve our ‘mystery pilot’ from the brig.” Jack bowed his head, his expression betraying just a hint of annoyance at the admiral’s whims as he tucked the tablet under his arm. “Meet you at the briefing room, Captain.”
Adamaris could do little but sigh and pinch the bridge of her nose, giving Jack a surprisingly sympathetic wave as he left. A quick touch of her tablet, and suddenly the remaining pilots were being patched in. “Meet in the briefing room immediately, injuries notwithstanding.”
---
As the pilots came trickling in, they were met with the appearance of a busy Adamaris- typing away at her tablet, busy working on something. The briefing room was empty outside of them, with much of the bridge and remainder of the crew still working. With the lights dim and it being only a handful of hours since the end of the operation that had seen so much death…
Adamaris did not even look up as she spoke. “I want a roll call.” She said, her voice surprisingly low and soft.
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Mary
Little Twinkle
Posts: 14
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Post by Mary on Feb 23, 2019 11:19:24 GMT -6
The confusion, emotions, and sheer degree of failure that had come from this afternoon was almost enough to make her vomit.
Funny, wasn't it? She had been brought on to look for traces of this traitor and the last person she had expected, hell the first person she had tried to make connections with, ended up being the culprit. It had gone over even the heads up the higher ups, not to mention the limited time, Merlin's own connections and given history...All of it had just made it seem like a typical anti-social ace case, not this....This mess. She hadn't been much of a presence in the resulting skirmish either, the backlash of which was the unsettling feeling in her stomach as she, rather unlike her, kept to a small profile while sipping on her drink in the corner.
The atmosphere of the debriefing room was more than willing to ignore her presence, the heavy atmosphere weighing down on even the most usually hot-headed of pilots. Still, the silence couldn't last forever as the Captain cut through it, so much more soft spoken and tired to the point it caught even her as unusual, almost unnervingly so. "....Pilot Evangeline, reporting in....M'am."
For what it's worth at least....
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Post by Charredgp on Feb 23, 2019 16:13:53 GMT -6
After everything that had happened, it felt impossible to even face the rest of the Menaulion, especially Adamaris. Even if it was through no fault of their own, they had failed. Badly.
That burning fury Gabe felt during the mission had long since died out, unable to sustain itself as more than embers. Now, all he had was the weight of the entire situation, that undoubtedly everyone else felt in some way or another. They hadn't lost the war, but it damn well felt like it. God knew they'd lost enough already. The only comfort was that there was one very well-known, very obvious person to pin all of that pain onto. Though at the moment, it was a rather bitter comfort at best.
As Gabe shuffled into the debriefing room, it was hard not to notice how empty it seemed. Three chairs emptied by one man's selfish betrayal. "...Crwydryn." Even that familiar pair of syllables was a struggle to say loud enough to be heard, but given the circumstances, he doubted he'd get any kind of serious reprimand, if any.
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moo!!
Cosmic Kiddie
Posts: 63
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Post by moo!! on Mar 1, 2019 22:03:45 GMT -6
It was difficult to focus. Though they were safe – at least, for now – the battle still rung in her ears, the unknown pilot’s words in her head. Normally, Linnea would have been among the first to respond, but… … actually, considering how many pilots were actually left—
She blinked, momentarily focusing on the present, realizing that her peers had spoken before her. Roll call. She had to speak up, too. It took her a few extra seconds to do so, through the odd haze in her head and the knot in her stomach. Some part of her was still able to pick up on the mood in the room – from the pilots nearby to the captain herself.
And so, she swallowed hard and dipped her head in a half-hearted bow.
“Linnea Fletcher, reporting.”
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Post by Captain Ameijin! on Mar 1, 2019 22:12:47 GMT -6
The door to the briefing room slid open. Three figures entered the room, led by Lieutenant Cortaine; behind him, the pilot of the Meléagros, and behind her, a guard armed with a rifle. The overabundance of caution was in stark contrast to the lieutenant’s nonchalant attitude as he walked them over to a seat at the table.
“Go ahead and introduce yourself,” he started, tapping the girl’s shoulder with a white-gloved hand. “Try and make a good first impression, wouldn’t you? The handcuffs aren’t doing you any favors.”
His eyes swept across the room as she took a seat, doing a quick headcount of the pilots. Cruz, Crwydryn, and Fletcher were already accounted for. Qureshi, Malkovich, and Roland were absent for obvious reasons. That still left one pilot unaccounted for.
A quick glance at his tablet revealed that she hadn’t even opened the message he’d sent. Jack remembered hearing something about a commotion down in the hangar, something he had reminded himself to deal with at a later time. That later time just happened to be… right about now.
He bowed towards the group, apologizing under his breath before excusing himself once more.
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ned
Little Twinkle
Posts: 12
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Post by ned on Mar 2, 2019 8:15:30 GMT -6
If Val was taken aback by the lieutenant's comment, she held back on her retort until after he'd left the room. The moment he vanished, though, the fuming mechanic erupted in a voice that was half indignation, and half incredulity.
"Not doing me any favors? I just saved your pilot's bacon - you're all welcome, by the way - and that's the thanks I get? Give me a break."
"I mean, I get it. I know how sketchy this all looks and I don't blame you one bit for not trusting me. But come on, I even surrendered my machine and everything! They checked me for weapons! Aren't the handcuffs just a little too much?" She raised her arms in front of her, showcasing her cuffed wrists for emphasis. "What am I going to do, karate chop my way through this ship?"
She paused for a breath. Really, nobody in this room was at fault, that much she knew. She'd also seen enough of the debacle in Mozambique to understand that everybody was on edge, and that this wasn't helping matters. But still, that offhand comment, the way he'd phrased it - it had rubbed her the wrong way. It had felt as if he was looking down on her. And that was the one thing she wasn't able to let slide.
She leaned back against the chair, cuffed hands on her lap. At least the outburst had, if nothing else, calmed her down. Probably screwed up that first impression something fierce, though. Still, she really should actually introduce herself.
"Anyway, I'm Val. I patch up AAs for a living. Even pilot them, in my spare time.", she added with a nod towards the Meléagros. "Also looks like we'll be working together for a bit? I gotta say I'm a bit fuzzy on the details. Nobody really asked for my opinion on that part."
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Post by Captain Ameijin! on Mar 2, 2019 18:20:45 GMT -6
Several quiet minutes passed before Lieutenant Cortaine returned.
The sidelong glare from the pilot of the Meléagros didn’t seem to affect him, nor did the blank and impatient looks from the others. He adjusted his white gloves and wore a practiced smile as the other pilot walked in behind him. Shuffling towards the table, Myra looked much more the part of a prisoner than Val ever did. Sweat caked onto her skin matted her hair to her forehead in messy clumps, her eyes pink and puffy as she tightly clutched her superior’s handkerchief, left what was perhaps a more damning first impression than a pair of handcuffs.
A nudge on the shoulder prompted her to speak.
“...Elmyra Shirdel, reporting in.” She raised a half-hearted salute. “That good enough for you?”
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Post by fen on Mar 5, 2019 16:49:52 GMT -6
“Ah, so we’re all present now, then?”
The holographic figure of Admiral Forscythe appeared once more, though to many of the pilots it was the first they had laid eyes on the Grand Admiral of the ESU. Despite his status, he appeared to be somewhere in his late 30s. Legend goes amongst the ESU that he had attained such a high status towards the end of the Six-Month War due to his heroics.
“Oh my oh my, could someone please uncuff my loyal contractor there? She looks awful like that!”
Flanked by his senior officers, the admiral didn’t appear to be that tall, though his flowing blonde hair and surprisingly youthful appearance didn’t help either. With a curt nod and a motion of his hands, his officers were dismissed. Now alone, he couldn’t help but to give the collected pilots a smile.
“Rough time, eh? Happens to the best of us.”
He didn’t get a chuckle out of that.
Adamaris, with her hands on her lap, couldn’t help but to roll her eyes.
“Ah, well, anyways... Let’s begin, yeah? Captain, if you would please lead us in...”
A brief sigh escaped her lips as she opened up the briefing screen, though this time there lacked a map, instead just a schematic of the Menaulion. “With the Nias lost, the Menaulion is now the only active Loggerhead-class remaining under Earth’s atmosphere. Its loss was… Catastrophic for the war effort, to say the least.”
“A bit vague, but she’s right. The Loggerheads were more than just status symbols for the ESU, they were bulkheads for keeping the Martian war front back.”
“If used correctly.” Adamaris interjected.
“...if used correctly, yes. Which brings us to the point, use what correctly?”
The schematic board zoomed in on the front half of the Menaulion, in particular, its bow.
“The weapon sent to stop the descending Martian fleet was old technology, composed during the Six-Month War. With it destroyed, the Martians have inflicted a huge blow to our ability to augment our fleets… Or so they think.”
“In reality,” Adamaris continued, taking over for the admiral. “We have two more, and one of them is incorporated into the Menaulion.”
The good admiral nodded. “Correct. In fact, it boasts a higher output than the hand-held weapon we lost.”
“Well, theoretically.”
This was a new voice, a surprisingly calm voice, one that didn’t seem to match who it belonged to. The door to the briefing room shut behind Cinco, who had his pockets buried in his labcoat, his hair tied back into a sloppy ponytail.
“Well, this is a surprise.” Chirped the admiral, who waved as if to suggest to Adamaris that Cinco’s presence was fine. “Care to give us your thoughts then?”
Cinco looked over at the pilots, then at the two ESU officers in the back, a single brow cocked.
“I’ve taken a peak at some of the black box tech you’ve got going on here… It’s not been tested, right? There’s no way you could test this thing on a massive scale without the whole world- no, system knowing. You’re really downplaying this, you know? That ‘hand-held’ version had enough power to shatter a colony if you shot it right, and you think this one isn’t worse?”
Despite pointing his worst at the admiral, Forscythe didn’t seem to budge, nor did his smile waver.
“Correct.”
“...and you’re okay with that?”
He paused. That smile still didn’t leave.
“I don’t have the authority to say no to what the board wants. Beyond that, the Loggerhead project has been in the works since before I became Fleet Admiral. The best we can do is know what we’re working with and living with it, yeah?”
Cinco didn’t say anything else, instead taking a seat towards the back.
“But, anyways- this is sort of beside the point. While you all weren’t originally meant to know this information, at least until it became relevant, I’ve opted to… Speed up the process, and maybe bend the rules a bit.”
“Bend the rules?” Asked Adamaris, her expression hinting worry.
“As of today, this ship has been declared missing.”
“...Excuse me?”
“I understand this is asking for a lot, but listen to my plea first: the fact of the matter is that we are undermanned against the MR right now, and not only are we undermanned, but they have the advantage of technology.”
The schematic chart of the Menaulion was replaced by a list of names, faces, and brief descriptions… Wait.
One of them looked familiar.
“We’ve done a lot of investigation using the information obtained from your Shanghai expedition, and we’ve discovered a number of high key Martian developers and economic players on Earth, secretly. It threw us for a spin first, but comparing the data with what we could salvage from Enceladus led us to the discovery of a number of hidden, key MR facilities developing new technologies.”
There was a pause, but only enough for a hologram of a familiar white machine to take center stage in the room.
“We have the pilot of the Kirin here, yes? I’m sure they’d recognize this machine. Well, the pilot is working with an unknown Martian organization to facilitate the construction of more of these machines… And the facilities are slated to finish production soon.”
“And why exactly do we have to declare ourselves ‘missing’ then?”
“The short of it is that this information has not left my circle until now. The ESU board doesn’t know about this, and they won’t, because otherwise they’d do something drastic and dumb. I need this ship to strike against these facilities, both because it’s equipped to destroy them, and also because its pilots are the only ones with any meaningful experience at combating these machines.”
There was some silence.
“You do realize there’s no way that gun can fire without it causing some serious damage?”
“I was hoping you could give that a look, since you’re the oh-so-famous engineer I’ve been hearing about.
Cinco rolled his eyes. "Yeesh, you guys are really working me to the bone huh?"
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Post by Captain Ameijin! on Mar 8, 2019 21:45:38 GMT -6
Boot heels ‘clicked’ against the table. Myra slumped even further into her chair, propping her legs up in a display of (uncharacteristic) disrespect. She was quiet as wary eyes turned towards her, fingers tapping anxiously against the armrest of her seat. Her mouth opened to speak, closed as if to stay her tongue, then reopened.
“Haven’t we done enough harm with these superweapons? And do spare me that nonsense about your hands being tied,” she growled skeptically towards the Fleet Admiral. “Sounds more like a half-baked excuse to flagrantly ignore any jus in bello we once followed.”
A moment of pause, punctuated by an interjection from Lieutenant Cortaine that was summarily ignored and spoken over.
“Need I remind you of y…”
“And while we’re on the subject, how about you explain why you’ve decided to reveal this highly classified information in front of— no offense— a total fucking stranger?”
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Post by fen on Mar 11, 2019 21:44:14 GMT -6
Watching the Fleet Admiral blink in disbelief as Myra went on was certainly something, though the chuckle that he gave at the sight of Jack being unable to contain the pilot seemed to indicate he didn’t mind, even if…
“I too would like to know exactly why we’re entertaining this mess, and on top of that, doing it in front of someone not part of the ESU military. Even coming from you, Admiral Forscythe, I expect a good explanation. And on top of that, you want us to go with your ‘ship is to be declared missing’ idea? Do you have any idea how that would affect those onboard?”
To say that the Fleet Admiral wasn’t a little taken aback would be at least somewhat of an understatement. He picked at his collar, a still gentle smile locked on his face, but it was easy to tell that he was uncomfortable.
“V-Very well, then. I suppose a total explanation is well deserved. For that… We have to go back to the Six-Month War, the war that would change everything- irrevocably.”
---
During and even before the Six-Month War, the ESU partook of an arms race. They were racing anyone and everyone- Mars, the Jovians, but especially the colonies in deep space. A problem-free trading scheme was required for Earth to flourish in a post-colonial era, but it was ultimately less fair trade than it was to simply take advantage of.
I won’t remind you all why that war was fought in the first place, but part of what drew tensions to that point was the growth of machinery and technology emerging from colonial powers. While Mars now holds the most advanced modern AA designs- this was not necessarily true at the time. Many colony manufacturers produced their own machines modified for combat, and they saw some use during the war.
The ESU was worried about being left behind, and once the war came around, they feared losing their place in the system for good.
They made… Discoveries. Money was funneled into development from all over- legitimate, clean money, and money stained in blood. They fed it into a project that, at the time, was simply called ‘P.T.’. It was an attempt to explore novel ideas and technology, and to integrate them into a frame not unlike an AA.
These machines eventually saw action. Taken to the Six-Month War, they fought on the front lines. At the time, there was enough variety in both Martian and colony machines that they didn’t stick out. Yet slowly, they became icons. Even if at first they simply appeared to be ahead of the curve, they began to outperform even our wildest expectations. From battles we had no chance of winning, to accomplishments that could only be described as miracles, these machines were perhaps the primary reason the war ended so soon.
-----
“Isn’t that being a bit disingenuous?”
Like a smug school boy, Cinco raised his hand as if to ask a question, but there were no questions.
“They ended the war because of what happened during the operation surrounding Big O, you know the one. Even if they kept you in the dark, there’s no way you wouldn’t know what I’m talking about, right? I mean, you were there.”
The admiral paused for a moment, a much more serious outlook on his face now.
“Yes, perhaps that’s more appropriate.”
-----
What ended the war wasn’t a strategic victory, etched into being by blood, it was… Something out of our control. Whatever technology those machines were comprised of, one of them lost control, and the subsequent damage it inflicted tore apart the colony known as the Big O.
It was that which struck fear into the ESU, and why they ultimately canceled their plans to roll out their own machines using similar technology. The P.T. project was scrapped, and the remaining machines put into storage. I’d like to say that’s where the story ends, but it doesn’t. As years passed, the ESU grew less and less attentive towards the remains of the P.T. project. Although it was kept quiet, some began to go… ‘Missing’.
Naturally, pieces of hardware of that size don’t just go missing. I got in contact with old associates- ex-soldiers and veterans of the Six-Month War, and they expressed the same concerns I did. That was when our friend here, Val, was hired. The organization she works for- and by extension, herself, has experience working with these machines. They know how to find them. I’ve had her working for me for some time now, and depending on how events unfolded, I would have most likely approached this in a different manner, however…
-----
A somewhat tired Admiral gave a loud sigh, before pinching the bridge of his nose. “How do I say this… The supposed terrorist organization that your ex-pilot is working for may… Have several of these machines. On top of that, it appears that the Martian machine that both the Kirin and Highlander ran into may have technology based on the P.T. project. When you combine all of these factors, you have a very, very, large headache.”
It wasn’t long before he relaxed, but his smile had not returned.
“The reason I need this ship to work on this threat is because of how grand it is. We are not simply talking about the ESU losing a war, the repercussions of having this technology in the hands of power hungry individuals are severe. Africa has, in part, already felt it.”
There was a momentary pause to allow this information to soak in, before the Admiral moved to his proposition.
“So, let me reign this all in. I understand that many were lost today, but for their sakes, and the sake of this planet and beyond, will you all help me?”
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Mary
Little Twinkle
Posts: 14
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Post by Mary on Mar 14, 2019 16:03:29 GMT -6
The whole entire snafu was throwing the usual chipper Evangeline further and further out of wack, between fighting back against the feeling of nausea assaulting her system as her mind kept drifting back to the lost Nias pilots, her mind drifting off from the conversation at hand to the remaining Yuki and Rusty. The feeling at the pit of her stomach plummeted further at the mention of Big O, all but reflected by her reflection as she stared a hole straight through the Admiral. Her switch flipped as her despair pooled over, her expression becoming tired and irritated as she bolted up from her chair.
"This isn't some b-movie scifi! We're not fighting some great evil for the sake of the universe, we're not heroes who make it home at the end of the day!" Her fists tightened at her side, any sense of professionalism gone with the corpses of her squad, of the first person that had worked with her on the Menaulion. Loss was something that was part of the job, especially in her specialization, but this didn't feel like warfare. It was personal, it was emotional, and it wasn't the type of thing you approached with an opening joke. "We're human beings who get shot in the back of the head and get vaporized in space, we die like dogs. And it's because I never stopped and saw that son of a bitch for what he never bothered to even hide!" Her fist made solid contact with the wall next to her, her last bit of restraint the only thing stopping her from crashing her foot into her chair for good measure. "This isn't just an assignment, just something you do for the greater good. Everything we just lost, everything you're asking us to give up, the people back home we're going to hurt going off the grid...And because we didn't clean up some arms race properly! I'm joining, but not because of any sentiment from you. The Nias needs to be avenged and that bastard needs a bullet to the head before this is all said and done and I certainly don't need reminding of that so carelessly!" She trembled slightly from the emotions she had let free, unflinching even as she more than expected to be detained for her insubordination but something needed to be said about the way he had treated this as just some new assignment, as if the room wasn't heavy with the blood and hurt of betrayal.
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Post by Captain Ameijin! on Mar 15, 2019 9:58:17 GMT -6
The wreckage of the Wolfsbane flashed onto the screen. Myra retracted her legs from the table, pulling them close to her chest as her attention shifted away from the admiral. The Highlander’s camera panned towards a building across the street. The creeping realization of what she was watching gnawed at her like a thousand desert scarabs, the cloaked machine slowly rising into view. The camera shook, trembled, and spiralled with each blow the Highlander suffered against it. She pulled her hand up to her mouth to keep herself from crying out.
“I can't... I can't watch this…”
Myra stood up from her chair and turned her face away from the screen. But even as the others shouted across the table, she could hear his voice from the speakers.
‘If ye have something to say… best say it yerself.’
“How dare you… how dare you wield their suffering against us?” Through eyes framed by tears she glared daggers at the admiral. “None of this would have happened if you had only taken responsibility for your actions rather than bury them in the sand, and now we’re the ones paying the price!”
Her teeth clenched nearly as hard as her fists.
“But even so, I’ll help you. That’s why you asked us to do this isn’t it? Because you know that we have too much stake in this to back down now. That you offer our only chance… at killing the rotten bastards that did this to us.”
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Post by Charredgp on Mar 15, 2019 17:23:38 GMT -6
Gabe felt his heart sink down into what seemed to be the lower-leg to foot region as he saw in first person view the carnage the Highlander had endured. He wasn't sure whether to cry or to yell at watching, but he couldn't look away.
White-knuckled, Gabe rose, glaring at the image of Admiral Forscythe with little regard for the absolute hell he could put him through with but a word.
"So that's what this whole thing is to ya?" He asked, shockingly quiet despite his obvious fury. "Fixin' your mistakes for ya?"
The dam broke just as quickly as it seemed to be built in Gabe's mind, pointing an accusing finger at the hologram.
"Ya make some goddamn superweapons, fit to destroy fleets and colonies, and only give a FUCK about the ramifications once they ain't in your control anymore?! And rather than face the fuckin' music yourself, ya go off and ask some other group to shoulder your fuckin' burden for ya?!"
His arm flung out to gesture at the screen that had just so recently shown them what had happened to the Highlander.
"And ya have the audacity to act like we can handle this shit just 'cause we've dealt with 'em before? LOOK HOW FUCKIN' WELL THAT DID SEAN! WE'VE GOT EXPERIENCE DEALIN' WITH THEM LIKE A FUCKIN' THIRD DEGREE BURN VICTIM HAS WITH PUTTIN' OUT FIRES!"
Gabe stopped, panting as he tried to collect himself, at least a little. His tone dropped down again, voice cold and almost venomous.
"I ain't losin' nothin' by goin' underground. Anybody who'd actually care is on this ship anyway. But I ain't doin' this for ya, Admiral. And I ain't even doin' this for the Earth or the ESU, Mars, none of that bullshit. I don't buy that innocents heartstring you're tuggin' at. I'm doin' this 'cause it's the only way I'm gonna be able to sleep at night, knowin' what'll happen if I don't."
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moo!!
Cosmic Kiddie
Posts: 63
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Post by moo!! on Mar 16, 2019 8:37:01 GMT -6
The only reaction Lin gave both Val and Myra was a brief, sidelong glance. Val got something slightly more -- a set jaw and a sharp look, but that quickly died down. She didn't have the energy to stay angry. The Admiral wasn't much of an improvement either, but it was uniquely satisfying to see the cheery façade crumble.
Still, as the rest of the room slowly – or very, very quickly – began to fire up with shots, concerns, and running emotions, she found herself able to focus, just a bit.
Lin’s attention was on the familiar machine and the face of its pilot on the screen. When the visage eventually swapped to video feed of the Highlander’s fight, she felt something twist in her chest. Because, after all, this had happened around the same time she was fighting alongside Ernest. While she had saved – ‘saved’ – Ernest, Sean could have died, too.
“… Gabe is right. Surviving an encounter with those machines – and I am using the term ‘survive’ very loosely here – does not mean we can fight them, even with the recent upgrades.” It was difficult to talk about. She crossed her arms defensively, and slowly forced herself to look at the hologram. “I assume we’d be properly informed of this P.T. project, correct? Even if these Martian machines might only be based off of it, it would be better than not having anything at all. As for that other organization, if they really do have the machines from the Six-Month war…”
It wasn’t something she couldn’t ignore. If they were anything like the ones she and Sean fought against, then… She refused to let herself say the words.
Something about the Admiral’s wording, too, irritated her. For the sake of the planet and beyond. It was something out of a movie, something that seemed too grand for them. She could hardly suppress her laughter. Head bowed and eyes on the table below her, her shoulders shook. Not a single sound came from her then.
“It seems pointless to ask, given the gravity of the situation,” she began, keeping her head down. “I stand with the rest of the squad’s decision. For them… and for the sake of who we’ve lost, I’ll... I'll try.”
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Post by fen on Mar 25, 2019 20:36:44 GMT -6
Despite their rebuttals, the Admiral's expression remained as determined as before. Before the Admiral could reply, however, another voice interjected.
"That's enough."
Like that, the Admiral's figure disappeared, leaving the group in dim-light. It was Adamaris that had cancelled their little meeting, and right now their Captain seemed... Some level of distraught, or annoyed- perhaps a combination of the two. Her hands framed her face, rubbing tight circles along the sides of her temples as she shut her eyes. "That's... More than enough for now. All of you are dismissed."
It was, perhaps, the first time they had witnessed her break protocol. Maybe only the second time they had seen her become... This obviously stressed. Her word was final, even if it perhaps left some unanswered questions. "We will... We will have a follow up briefing soon. That... Is all." Whether the pilots wanted to return to their rooms (or wherever else) remained to be seen, but Adamaris had already begun to move towards the exit, saying one last thing to Jack. "Release the new person and... I don't know, show her to Bernard's room. If she's from the Admiral then she's to be welcomed here."
With that, the door to the briefing room opened and Adamaris moved out, paying no more attention to the group of pilots (or her second in command).
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