CH7: The Smell of Rat (Jack + Val)
May 17, 2019 16:51:28 GMT -6
Post by Captain Ameijin! on May 17, 2019 16:51:28 GMT -6
The briefing room emptied in a matter of moments. Now that everything was laid out in the open—well, perhaps not everything, but enough—there was precious little left to say. Lieutenant Cortaine rubbed the bridge of his nose as the last pilots left the room. The soldier guarding Val looked to him tentatively before uncuffing her.
“Sir, is there anything else I should…”
“No.” The lieutenant paused, then adjusted his tone. “Take the rest of the day off, and remember that everything you’ve heard today is highly confidential.”
“Of course, sir. Thank you.” The soldier flashed a salute.
“At ease.” Jack returned it. His eyes shifted towards the pilot of the Meléagros as the soldier shuffled away. “I would do well to remember that you’re no soldier. The chain of command is nothing to trifle with, though you wouldn’t know that after everything that’s happened today.”
He chuckled, stifling a dry cough that irritated his throat.
“I hope you’ll excuse our abundance of caution. And on that note… as the captain suggested, you will be taking up Bernard’s old room. We’ve scoured it for explosives, listening devices, or anything else that might pose a security risk, but I’m afraid there’s no telling how deep the smell of rat runs.”
Val absentmindedly rubbed at the faint red mark on her wrists, where the handcuffs used to be. She'd never quite get used to those.
"It's fine, I'm not exactly picky. If you're telling me nothing's in there's gonna blow up during the night it's already not the worst place I've ever slept in anyway."
The attempt at banter was her way of trying to clear the air, but that was probably a futile effort. Nothing she could do about tensions running high on the ship. Betrayals tended to have that effect.
"To be honest", she started, bouncing off Jack's earlier comment about authority, "I've never been fond of all that red tape junk. I like to think I'm pro enough to get things done - don't need an old fart to lord it over me because they have more medals on their chest than anyone else on the ship."
She shrugged, aware of the futility of the claim. This was a military vessel, and an outsider like her had no room to argue. "But hey, I guess I should get used to it, right?" That was the best they were going to get out of her : begrudging compliance.
"By the way, can we make a stop by my mech first? Most of my stuff is in there."
“Hopefully the mechanics haven’t already started poking around its innards,” the lieutenant mused as he led her towards the hangar. “Though it’s good to hear you’ve brought your belongings. Somehow I doubt we would have been able to swing by and pick them up.”
Jack began to lean more heavily against his walking stick, weariness apparent in his gait.
“... a meritocracy of sorts might have allowed us to avoid this whole mess, or perhaps it would have dug a deeper grave. But in an ideal world I would like to think the chain of command is derived from the will of the people. We do not live in an ideal world.”
The lieutenant straightened his posture as he motioned for the hangar door to open, pleasantness returning to his face. Mechanics surrounded the Meléagros, and pending approval from their superiors, had taken to merely ogling it. “Shoo, shoo. Haven’t you plenty of work left to do on the Arli... Canyo... whatever it’s called?”
As they shuffled away, he gestured towards the ladder that led up to the machine’s cockpit. “Go ahead, grab your things. Best make yourself comfortable in your new home.”
"Much appreciated." Val nodded. As the surrounding mechanics scattered, she shot them a threatening glare to hurry them up. Yeah, that's right, scram. This ain't for you to mess with.
After she'd grabbed her belongings, she couldn't help giving the cockpit a quick look over before leaving. I swear to god, if they've touched even a single screw in there... However, everything was - as far as she could tell - exactly how she'd left it, and the Meléagros' pilot reluctantly made her way back down the ladder. She landed with a hop, a large sports bag on each shoulder.
"That should be everything. Gotta learn to pack light in this line of work."
“And to think that everything you own can be packed into this humble little hangar,” the lieutenant teased. He looked up at the towering machine, blood staining the palm of its hand. The things we could do with a fleet of these, he thought wistfully. “What about repairs? Do you intend to maintain the entire machine yourself?”
The pilot-slash-mechanic turned back to look at the Meléagros, with no small amount of pride on her face. "Oh yeah, no sweat. I've done it before, I'll do it again." The nonchalant brag answered the question well enough, but not content to leave it at that, she started prattling again, too happy at the chance to talk shop.
With a cough, she straightened herself and regained some semblance of composure. "Anyway, I can take care of it, is what I mean. I can even help out on the other mechs, too, if you'd like. I'm not going to jazz them up like mine, but I can fix them just fine too."
“Between maintaining your machine and joining our operations, you may not find the time to weld together everyone else’s piles of scrap.” The lieutenant’s eyes glanced towards the battered remains of the Highlander and the Wolfsbane. “Yasmith—our lead engineer and a gearhead through and through—may have something in mind for you however. Just know that she will look for an excuse to tinker with your machine.”
With a heavy sigh he shifted his attention away from the wreckage, motioning for her to follow behind as he approached the central block. His finger pressed impatiently against the call button for the elevator.
“That should cover… just about everything important,” Jack concluded as he stepped into the elevator. “Anything else will be sent directly to your tablet, which should arrive at your doorstep sometime tomorrow morning. The system will already be updated with all your shiny new security clearances.”
As the elevator opened, Val followed in the steps of the lieutenant as he guided her to what was now to be her room. It wasn't a long walk - soon enough, they were exchanging goodbyes at the door, and Jack left her to settle into her quarters. Leaving her with only her thoughts and two heavy sports bags as she stood inside the emptied space. In the newfound silence, she took in the sight of the impersonal furniture, the room stripped of any evidence that someone had ever lived here. Home. For now, at least.
Carelessly throwing her belongings at the bottom of the bed, she placed her hands on the mattress, giving it a few tentative pushes, as if testing its softness - which got a passing grade by her standards. No reason to wait any longer to take it for a test drive. She still had questions and concerns about her new situation, sure, but she was also starkly aware that she hadn't slept much in the last couple of days. There was a roof above her head, and presumably food as well. Anything else could wait until the next day.
... besides, Val thought as she drifted to sleep, it was either this or rooming alone in Mozambique.
“Sir, is there anything else I should…”
“No.” The lieutenant paused, then adjusted his tone. “Take the rest of the day off, and remember that everything you’ve heard today is highly confidential.”
“Of course, sir. Thank you.” The soldier flashed a salute.
“At ease.” Jack returned it. His eyes shifted towards the pilot of the Meléagros as the soldier shuffled away. “I would do well to remember that you’re no soldier. The chain of command is nothing to trifle with, though you wouldn’t know that after everything that’s happened today.”
He chuckled, stifling a dry cough that irritated his throat.
“I hope you’ll excuse our abundance of caution. And on that note… as the captain suggested, you will be taking up Bernard’s old room. We’ve scoured it for explosives, listening devices, or anything else that might pose a security risk, but I’m afraid there’s no telling how deep the smell of rat runs.”
Val absentmindedly rubbed at the faint red mark on her wrists, where the handcuffs used to be. She'd never quite get used to those.
"It's fine, I'm not exactly picky. If you're telling me nothing's in there's gonna blow up during the night it's already not the worst place I've ever slept in anyway."
The attempt at banter was her way of trying to clear the air, but that was probably a futile effort. Nothing she could do about tensions running high on the ship. Betrayals tended to have that effect.
"To be honest", she started, bouncing off Jack's earlier comment about authority, "I've never been fond of all that red tape junk. I like to think I'm pro enough to get things done - don't need an old fart to lord it over me because they have more medals on their chest than anyone else on the ship."
She shrugged, aware of the futility of the claim. This was a military vessel, and an outsider like her had no room to argue. "But hey, I guess I should get used to it, right?" That was the best they were going to get out of her : begrudging compliance.
"By the way, can we make a stop by my mech first? Most of my stuff is in there."
“Hopefully the mechanics haven’t already started poking around its innards,” the lieutenant mused as he led her towards the hangar. “Though it’s good to hear you’ve brought your belongings. Somehow I doubt we would have been able to swing by and pick them up.”
Jack began to lean more heavily against his walking stick, weariness apparent in his gait.
“... a meritocracy of sorts might have allowed us to avoid this whole mess, or perhaps it would have dug a deeper grave. But in an ideal world I would like to think the chain of command is derived from the will of the people. We do not live in an ideal world.”
The lieutenant straightened his posture as he motioned for the hangar door to open, pleasantness returning to his face. Mechanics surrounded the Meléagros, and pending approval from their superiors, had taken to merely ogling it. “Shoo, shoo. Haven’t you plenty of work left to do on the Arli... Canyo... whatever it’s called?”
As they shuffled away, he gestured towards the ladder that led up to the machine’s cockpit. “Go ahead, grab your things. Best make yourself comfortable in your new home.”
"Much appreciated." Val nodded. As the surrounding mechanics scattered, she shot them a threatening glare to hurry them up. Yeah, that's right, scram. This ain't for you to mess with.
After she'd grabbed her belongings, she couldn't help giving the cockpit a quick look over before leaving. I swear to god, if they've touched even a single screw in there... However, everything was - as far as she could tell - exactly how she'd left it, and the Meléagros' pilot reluctantly made her way back down the ladder. She landed with a hop, a large sports bag on each shoulder.
"That should be everything. Gotta learn to pack light in this line of work."
“And to think that everything you own can be packed into this humble little hangar,” the lieutenant teased. He looked up at the towering machine, blood staining the palm of its hand. The things we could do with a fleet of these, he thought wistfully. “What about repairs? Do you intend to maintain the entire machine yourself?”
The pilot-slash-mechanic turned back to look at the Meléagros, with no small amount of pride on her face. "Oh yeah, no sweat. I've done it before, I'll do it again." The nonchalant brag answered the question well enough, but not content to leave it at that, she started prattling again, too happy at the chance to talk shop.
"Or rather, I should probably say I /wouldn't trust anyone/ with this. When you're squeezing every last ounce of power out of a mech like this, you've got to know it like the back of your hand. But if I left maintenance to someone else, I wouldn't be able to rely on that. It's like, having another person clean up your room, you know? Even if they do a great job of it they're not going to know just /exactly/ how you like your stuff organized-",
she continued, before remembering who she was talking to. Right. Chain of command and all that.
With a cough, she straightened herself and regained some semblance of composure. "Anyway, I can take care of it, is what I mean. I can even help out on the other mechs, too, if you'd like. I'm not going to jazz them up like mine, but I can fix them just fine too."
“Between maintaining your machine and joining our operations, you may not find the time to weld together everyone else’s piles of scrap.” The lieutenant’s eyes glanced towards the battered remains of the Highlander and the Wolfsbane. “Yasmith—our lead engineer and a gearhead through and through—may have something in mind for you however. Just know that she will look for an excuse to tinker with your machine.”
With a heavy sigh he shifted his attention away from the wreckage, motioning for her to follow behind as he approached the central block. His finger pressed impatiently against the call button for the elevator.
“That should cover… just about everything important,” Jack concluded as he stepped into the elevator. “Anything else will be sent directly to your tablet, which should arrive at your doorstep sometime tomorrow morning. The system will already be updated with all your shiny new security clearances.”
As the elevator opened, Val followed in the steps of the lieutenant as he guided her to what was now to be her room. It wasn't a long walk - soon enough, they were exchanging goodbyes at the door, and Jack left her to settle into her quarters. Leaving her with only her thoughts and two heavy sports bags as she stood inside the emptied space. In the newfound silence, she took in the sight of the impersonal furniture, the room stripped of any evidence that someone had ever lived here. Home. For now, at least.
Carelessly throwing her belongings at the bottom of the bed, she placed her hands on the mattress, giving it a few tentative pushes, as if testing its softness - which got a passing grade by her standards. No reason to wait any longer to take it for a test drive. She still had questions and concerns about her new situation, sure, but she was also starkly aware that she hadn't slept much in the last couple of days. There was a roof above her head, and presumably food as well. Anything else could wait until the next day.
... besides, Val thought as she drifted to sleep, it was either this or rooming alone in Mozambique.