Vote closed update 028
Petals of Carbon Steel -- You're a Pilot, Not an Ace. Try your best.
- Thread starter Gazetteer
- Start date
- Original Sci-Fi
Update 029: Nonviolent Crisis Intervention
Gazetteer
Alleged poisoner
- Location
- Nova Scotia
- Pronouns
- She/Her
Deliberately interrupt the conversation without waiting to find out what's going on: 35
Be cautious, wait to see what the conversation is about before doing anything: 7
Be cautious, wait to see what the conversation is about before doing anything: 7
SCREENING OFFICER: Why come to us?
RECRUIT: You know what I am. Where I came from.
SCREENING OFFICER: We do. You were victimised by a rogue element in the SRI — the SRI does not exist here anymore. The USE is gone.
RECRUIT: They are. The Holy Empire changed some names, changed some uniforms. Made things worse, generally. But they're exactly the kind of people who did this to us, and you fucking know they're doing it again.
SCREENING OFFICER: You want revenge?
RECRUIT: Yes. And justice. And a stable supply of my medicine. You're fighting the Empire, then on behalf of every one of my dead sisters, I'm here for that.
— Screening interview excerpt taken from secure AIJ database
"Fuck it, then," you say.
"Kana, wait—" Jay moves as if to stop you, but you've already pushed off the wall, sailing away from him. It's fine. Hopefully, you know what you're doing. There's no time to second guess now, though: If you're right, things are about to get very bad.
Arianne is saying something to Lash Twin #1, face tight, smile feigned. Twin #1 frowns, and all at once, her hand shoots forward, as if she intends to grab Arianne by the shoulder none-too-gently. Agnieszka's eyes widen dangerously.
Your hand closes around Twin #1's wrist, and your momentum drags her along with you as you sail past, carrying the two of you away from Arianne.
"Take your hands off of me!" Twin #1 snarls, shoving you away.
"Oh, sorry," you say, not sounding sorry at all. "I must have—" your bad leg makes contact with a bulkhead, and you grit your teeth against a sudden spike of pain. "... slipped."
Looking past the scowling twins, you see Jay, having caught himself short right beside Agnieszka. He seems to be guiding her hand slowly down from where it had started to come up — holstering a weapon she'd begun to draw. Fortunately, no one else has noticed this, with the commotion you just made.
"You didn't slip," Twin #2 says, eyes hard.
"Maybe," you say, shrugging. "Did she slip too, when she started to lunge for Grangier?" You nod at Twin #1.
Twin #1 starts forward, as if preparing to continue the argument, but her sister catches her. The chamber is alive with tension, the Shields' guards staring warily at the more numerous AIJ forces. "Let's go, Iris," Twin #2 says in a quiet, urgent tone. Grudgingly, Iris goes, and the pair of them huddle in conference at the far side of the chamber.
Leg still throbbing, you push yourself back to Jay, who is engaged in rapid and almost one-sided conversation with his long lost sister.
"Were you really going to shoot a woman just for touching her?" Jay hisses, gesturing at Arianne.
Agnieszka studied him for a long, quiet moment. Then she says: "Yes."
Arianne gives a self-conscious smile, as if this is a harmless eccentricity that she's long become resigned to. "Neiszka is very protective."
You manage not to give voice to the scathing you don't say that hovers on the very tip of your tongue. This restraint is your second unlauded act of heroism from the past few minutes alone.
Jay pinches the bridge of his nose. "You really don't change, do you?"
Agnieszka doesn't crack a smile, but there's something close to a softening in her voice as she answers. "I missed you too."
Jay has to hold back an amused sound at that. "I'm still trying to be mad at you. Do you realise how much of a powder keg we're all standing on, here?"
Agnieszka gives a tiny shrug, outwardly the picture of nonconcern. Given how jumpy you've seen her so far, she's probably just trying to downplay it. "You look good," she tells him.
Jay gives a start at this, the subtle emotions discernible from his eyes showing relief and gratification, distracting him entirely from his anger. "... Thank you," he says, quietly.
"I'm Ari," Arianne offers him, beaming. "Nieszka has told me a lot about you."
Jay looks between Ari and his sister. "Jay," he says. He's clearly still more than a little suspicious of Arianne's relationship with Agnieszka, but he swallows that for the time being.
Arianne looks between you and Jay. "Thank you both, though. Those two were being... very pushy."
"Anytime," you say, smirking. "I'm good at aggravating people. I try to use it for good, now and then." Jay reaches over and gives your arm a brief, fond squeeze, before letting you go. It's Agnieszka's turn to cast you and him a dubious look. Jay graciously ignores it.
"What was that even about?" he asks.
"They were trying to pressure me into helping them with some scheme of theirs that would require me to blow my cover at home," Arianne says. "When I declined, there were... threats."
"Physical?" you ask.
"Blackmail," Arianne says. "Threatening to inform the IIS of my activities."
"I should have shot them," Agnieszka says.
"No, you shouldn't have!" Jay says. "Do not shoot anyone."
Agnieszka, tragically, promises him no such thing. "As long as no one threatens Lady Arianne again." She says it as though it's a grudgingly offered concession.
Jay gives her a faintly stricken look, but seems to understand that this is the best he's likely to get. "I need to get back to patrol duty. Afterward, we should talk." He lets his tone grow more somber as he adds: "There's something you should know."
His tone must have betrayed his true meaning. Agnieszka gives him a sharp look. Then she asks, very quietly: "Who this time?"
Jay sighs, but keeps meeting her gaze. "Six."
Agnieszka gives the smallest of flinches, as though someone has just punched her hard in the gut, and she's too tough to let herself show it. "How?"
"She was at Titan. She died fighting," Jay says. The tenuous happiness from shortly before has curdled away entirely — you can tell that he's grieving all over again, watching Agnieszka's blank expression as she takes this news.
"Which side?" Agnieszka presses.
"USE Imperial Guard," Jay says.
Arianne pauses in the process of reaching for Agnieszka, cringing back a little at the news that a fleet commanded by her own father was responsible for J6's death. Agnieszka simply goes quiet, lost in her own thoughts.
"I will see you later," Jay says. "I'm sorry I need to go like this, Thir— Agnieszka." He nearly stumbles over the unfamiliar name.
Agnieszka nods. "Alright, Jay."
You admit, you feel a bit of a twinge at the sight of Jay heading back the way you'd come, despite the grateful look he exchanges with you on the way out. You wish these two had a proper chance to talk. Not least because it would keep Agnieszka occupied in a way that probably wouldn't lead to violence.
That's when a hand closes on your shoulder. "Oh, hello, sir," you say, coming face to face with High Commander Bernard.
He draws you aside and casts you a hard, searching look. "What exactly was that stunt with the Lash twins about, Himegami?"
You're not too flattered that he knows your name — it's memorable, after all. Still, you're aware that this is the man in charge of the AIJ. Your boss's boss's boss. You'll need to explain and justify your actions clearly and carefully, so that nothing is misconstrued. "I just saved this whole scheme of yours, sir." His eyes narrow, and you try not to sound too hasty as you add: "The Lashes were trying to strongarm Grangier into burning her cover over some plan of theirs. Her girlfriend was taking offence. I stepped in at about the right time."
"If you can call what you just did 'stepping in'," Bernard says. He doesn't sound mad at you, at least, despite the sarcasm.
"Well, I call it better than a full blown firefight just now," you say. "Jay's told me about Grangier's bodyguard — not a calming presence in this kind of situation."
"And Tham can't do anything about her?" Bernard is trying and mostly succeeding in not looking as stressed as he actually is.
You shrug. "He asked her not to shoot anyone."
"Did that help?" He asks this without a great deal of hope.
You wobble a hand damningly. "I wouldn't count on it too much."
Bernard takes a long, steeling breath. When he speaks again, his calm is preserved. "Thank you, Himegami, for preventing one of our representatives from being shot to death. However you went about it. Now, I'm going to try and smooth this over."
"Good luck, sir," you say, flashing him a smile.
He gives an unenthusiastic grunt of acknowledgement, and departs.
/////PoCS\\\\\
Satisfied that bullets aren't about to start flying inside a pressurised compartment, Guard-Lieutenant Lucinda Vasquez relaxes. She'd positioned herself by one of the hatches, ready to beat a swift retreat if necessary. Now that it's very obviously not, she looks from the two J-subjects at the centre of the chamber, to the jittery rebels all around, to the one other USE military uniform in the room.
SRI Lieutenant Amani North stayed a little bit closer to the action, although still half out of sight behind a stack of electronic equipment bolted to the deck. Lucinda supposes that that uniform would hardly go over well with either of the modified pilots involved in the confusion. It's interesting that she's staying this close at all.
"Well, if it isn't the elder North sister," Lucinda says, pulling herself to a stop on the electrical equipment, beside Amani.
Amani looks up at her, pensive expression clouding with slight annoyance. "Mosi is the eldest," she corrects.
Lucinda tilts her head. "Funny. She doesn't seem it. I suppose it's just this... air of professionalism you cultivate."
"Is there something you need, Guard-Lieutenant?" Amani asks, clearly not enthused with the direction of this conversation.
"Oh, well, I'm just seeing if you're alright," Lucinda says. "This does all seem like an awful lot of excitement for you. Quite a difference from that desk job on Titan."
Amani gives her a frosty look. She's far too pretty a woman to be able to pull that off as well as she does, Lucinda thinks. "I'm managing," she says. "I served during the Battles of Iapetus and Titan. This has not quite approached that level of excitement yet."
"Oh, did you?" Lucinda asks, feigning surprise.
"Yes. You'll forgive me if I didn't bring the medals. Is there something you want, Guard-Lieutenant?"
Lucinda glances at the J-subjects again, at the assembled rebels, then back to Amani. "Sometimes, I wonder about this entire enterprise."
Amani raises an eyebrow. "Do you?"
"Well, they're not precisely inspiring confidence, are they?" Lucinda shrugs. "I half expect this whole thing to end with bloodshed."
"That's certainly not what your Lady-High-Commander is hoping for from them," Amani says.
"This may surprise you," Lucinda says, "but her Highness, Princess Daystar, does not actually consult with me before she makes her decisions. Although, I'm hardly going to complain about the promotion." Lucinda had been languishing as a guardswoman first-class for, seemingly, her entire career. After the hideous losses among the Guard during the Battle of Titan, and Daystar subsequently assuming the position of Lady-High-Commander, things had changed, Opportunities had opened up for a woman whose parents had both been born around Saturn rather than the inner Planets. "Mind you, I'm a lot less taken with your prince."
"Prince Corona is hardly 'mine'," North says, shortly.
"Your higher ups certainly seem enamoured with him," Vasquez says.
"I am unable to speak to the political situation on Titan," Amani says.
"Especially not to our Jovian friends, I imagine," Lucinda says. "How much does the AIJ know about the SRI's long term plans here?"
"As much as they need to," Amani says. "But they're not stupid, Guard-Lieutenant. This is a mutually beneficial partnership, not an ideological alignment."
Lucinda hums thoughtfully. "Well, I suppose we'll see."
Amani gives her a narrow-eyed look, turns and begins to leave. "Good day, Guard-Lieutenant."
"The same to you!" Lucinda says, smiling.
Article: You have successfully prevented this meeting from turning violent, due to your quick actions and the existing relationship you've built up with Jay.
There is still something else, though. Something that, though none of you know it yet, is going to make things much more complicated. It's...
[ ] In space
[ ] On the ship
Vote closed update 029
Update 030: Things go Wrong
Gazetteer
Alleged poisoner
- Location
- Nova Scotia
- Pronouns
- She/Her
In Space: 19
On the ship: 12
On the ship: 12
- One party dress (Elsa Juan)
- One bootleg copy of Super Penguin Adventures: the Complete Series, remastered edition (Ryan Ross)
- Several plush toys and dolls, second-hand (various playmates)
- One toy spaceship ("Auntie" Cam)
— List of gifts from the birthday party of Audrey Ross-Juan, age four
Space, nearby
"You're cutting it a little close," Cam says.
Jay's reply is predictably terse. "Got held up,"
Cam raises her eyebrows, unseen on her end of the call. "That's not like you."
Cam's known Jay for long enough that she doesn't need to see the shrug to know it happened. Or, would have happened, if he hadn't been plugged into a direct neural interface. "It's... a lot to explain."
"What, you're busy right now?" Cam shifts uncomfortably in her harness. That this is Ryan's Lancer shouldn't make a difference — same basic design as hers, after all, and the harness and controls are fully adjustable for her size. Shouldn't have, and yet it's easy to forget just how many custom tweaks Cam has added to her own cockpit over the years. But her own mecha is still being repaired, and volunteering to take Ryan's place in his was the only way she could fill in for him on this mission. The thought of him missing his daughter's birthday after having been home so near to it had been too heartbreaking to let Cam do anything else. It had been for Audrey, mostly. Cam has known that kid nearly all her life, and she'd been so excited to have both of her parents here for the party before the news about this mission had come out. Cam can't even bring herself to say that Ryan's going to owe her too much after this, as much as he'd probably be insufferably sulky about it while still insisting on understanding the necessity.
It won't stop her from forcing Ryan to watch an actually accurate historical movie later, though. Someone needs to help cultivate some good taste in him, because he's certainly not going to do it for himself. She'll come up with a shortlist for that later. For right now, though, she's got another difficult man to deal with.
Cam and Jay, along with all the other pilots currently out in space, are staged in loose patrol formation around the Garter Snake, a show of strength to keep the ships belonging to the other factions from getting any bad ideas. The vessels belonging to the SSLF, the Sons of Jupiter, the SRI, the Imperial Guard, and the mysterious Jovian Source have been spaced out strategically, the attempt being to put them all as far from one another as possible while still being equidistant from the Garter Snake.
"Kana had news," Jay says, finally answering.
Well, Kana usually has news, although it's often not as consequential as Jay seems to be implying. "Good or bad?" Cam asks.
Jay is silent for another moment or two, and Cam wonders if he'll answer. He just doesn't answer questions, sometimes. But eventually he says: "Yes."
"Which is it?" Cam asks. Pulling teeth is at least a good change from flying the same route over and over again, and looking at a largely static scan map.
"My sister is here," Jay says. "This is... good."
Cam blinks in surprise. There are only so many J-Subjects out there, after all, from what she understands. "And the bad?"
"My sister is here," Jay explains, the subtle stress on the last word sounding almost anxious. For him, at least.
"Oh," Cam says. She doesn't know much about what Jay calls his family. She can tell that the topic is deeply personal and sometimes painful, so she hasn't pushed him on it very much. Cam isn't the sort to just go around nosing into everyone's business.
Mind you, that actually seems to be his type, considering his recent love life. The thought makes Cam feel a little mean — she's sure that Kana means well. Deep down, in that very Kana way of hers. It's good that Cam could at least arrange for that custom mecha for her before they left. Even if she'll probably just wreck it again, knowing Kana.
Still, though, even though they're acting as part of a larger group here, Cam doesn't like how short-handed they are, missing both Kana and Ryan. Whatever kind of stunt she pulled last time, no one has ever accused Kana of not being a team player on the battlefield, and effective teamwork has been the difference between life and death recently enough. Nothing's going on, but somehow, the entire situation with the other ships arranged around them just sets her teeth on edge. For all the broad expanse of space around them, Cam feels boxed in, trapped almost. Did she used to feel this way while piloting in these kinds of conditions?
No, not before that first disaster with the false Verdant. If worrying about everyone else wouldn't have just made her worry more than she already did, Cam might have seriously started to reconsider that standing offer to transfer to the AIJ's sorely understaffed R&D team as a mechanic. She's better with fixing machines than she is with piloting them, maybe, but she can do the latter well enough that she's needed more out here.
"Are you all getting this?" It's Kitty, sending a copy of her scan data to the whole patrol, movement out at extreme range flagged for their attention.
"I dunno, could just be some space junk," Azara chimes in.
"This isn't a debris field," Kitty says, not mollified.
Cam frowns at the map on her own display, looking at the readouts from the object, and comparing them to her own map. She's not a scans expert, but she agrees with Kitty. Someone else beats her to expressing this:
"Yeah, it's on my scans too," says one of the Garter Snake's pilots. Her name is Shae, Cam remembers. "It doesn't look like— shit!" It just went hot!"
Over the shared scan feed, the dot in question has started moving and emitting in a way that no inanimate object possibly could. That's when the firing starts.
/////PoCS\\\\\
Onboard the AIJ Garter Snake
The entire ship gives the muted, groaning shudder that instantly tells you that something has just flared its shields. Any hope that this might have been a freak micro object vanishes as the level 1 battle stations alarm starts to blare.
"What was that?" Arianne gasps, clutching at Agnieszka's arm.
"Railgun fire," Agnieszka says, staring around at the interior of the compartment with even more than her usual cold intensity. "I knew this was a bad idea."
The alarm continues to blare, and before you can say anything to that, you realise your comm unit is competing for your attention. Picking up, you recognise the High Commander's voice at once. "Himegami?"
"Yeah, sir?" you ask, drawing a blank as to why he's calling you.
"Are you still with Grangier?" Bernard asks.
You are. Someone has to keep an eye on them, and they haven't objected to you trailing a respectful distance after them since that near miss earlier. All three of you are off to one side of the converted cargo bay, near to one of the hatches. You'd call this paranoia on Agnieszka's part, but honestly any worries she might have have been more or less borne out. "Yes," you say. "What's going—"
"Get her to fucking safety and make sure she's strapped down," he says. "The alarm isn't for show." Then the call cuts out. You think maybe he's a little stressed out by all this.
It's good enough that he did hang up, though, because Agnieszka is already pulling Arianne out the nearest hatch. Oh, for fuck's sake. You flag down the nearest other security guard, hoping that he follows your lead, and push off after the pair of them, slipping through the hatch just behind Arianne.
"Where are you going?" you demand, sailing down the shaft beyond.
Agnieszka doesn't even look back as she says: "The hangar." Arianne even flashes you an apologetic smile, as if the situation is now out of her hands. Looking at Agnieszka's steely bearing, maybe it is.
"In the middle of... whatever this is?" Another shuddering impact — whatever's happening, it's bad.
"Yes," Agnieszka says. "We're leaving."
You exchange a look with the other guard — Graves — and say: "You're going to drag Lady Grangier out into what sounds a lot like a fight?"
"Nieszka is perfectly capable of keeping me safe," Arianne says, as if this is anything that can possibly be guaranteed, given the dangers of space combat. "Do you have any idea what's going on?" she adds.
"No," you admit. "But the combat alarm's going off, so educated guess."
The ship jolts as it abruptly changes velocity, and you and Graves slam into the side of the shaft. At least it's not your leg this time, and your shoulder hits his chest rather than any harder surface. Agnieszka manages to catch Arianne in her arms and push off from the side of the shaft at just the right moment to cushion the impact for the two of them — you have no idea how she and Jay can move through zero-g like that.
"This is why we're supposed to be strapped down!" Graves gasps, still winded.
You're torn between agreement, worry for your fellow pilots outside, and intense frustration that you're trapped in here, not able to do a thing to help anyone. Instead, you're failing even at babysitting some rich girl and your boyfriend's murderous sister.
And now they're already up and gone.
"Come on!" you tug at Graves' arm despite his groaning protest. If you can't do anything outside, you can at least do what you can in here. He follows without much resistance, at least. Which is great, because also like Jay, Agnieszka is moving through the shafts of this ship like a fish through water, and it's all you can do to keep up.
Despite only having made this trip once before in her life, Agnieszka seems to have memorised the route flawlessly, retracing the path you took earlier. At least if you lose the pair of them, you know where they're going. You're about to regret that thought, however.
"Is there a way we can get to the third hangar ahead of her?" you ask, rounding on Graves a little.
"The maintenance shafts?" Graves guesses. Then looks vaguely horrified. "Not in the middle of a battle, though. Fuck, if you want to cut them off, just make sure that her mecha's locked down."
"If we can even get ahold of anyone in all this," you say. "Fast enough to make a difference, I mean."
"I can give it a shot," Graves offers. "Better than the alternatives, maybe?"
He might be right. There's a small, traitorous part of you, though, that wants to just let the pair of them go, whatever your orders. The way Jay has talked about her before, Agnieszka would certainly be handy in any kind of a fight, even if her first instinct is just to get Arianne away from danger. Your friends are out there, after all.
Article: What do you do?
[ ] Try to go through the maintenance shafts in the middle of what sounds like combat
[ ] Try to get ahold of someone on the bridge to make sure Agnieszka can't leave with Arianne
[ ] Keep following them, but don't try too hard to stop them from leaving
Last edited:
Vote closed update 030
Update 031: All You Can Do
Gazetteer
Alleged poisoner
- Location
- Nova Scotia
- Pronouns
- She/Her
Keep following them, but don't try too hard to stop them from leaving: 16
Try to get ahold of someone on the bridge to make sure Agnieszka can't leave with Arianne: 13
Try to go through the maintenance shafts in the middle of what sounds like combat: 10
Try to get ahold of someone on the bridge to make sure Agnieszka can't leave with Arianne: 13
Try to go through the maintenance shafts in the middle of what sounds like combat: 10
Subject J-006: Subject's conditioning was a complete success. She follows orders, doesn't act out in their absence, and displays little in the way of undesirable emotional outbursts. Physical health is marginally within acceptable parameters. Combat performance and complementary skills are rated below 21 and 32, but in my opinion represents the best compromise between various factors. Retain for phase 2.
Subject J-009: Subject's conditioning was largely successful. She follows orders unfailingly, but is prone to independent action if left to her own devices for too long. Her health is the most delicate out of the five top candidates, although her combat capabilities are similar in scope to J6. It is my recommendation that she be retained as first alternate for the combat prototype going into phase 2.
Subject J-021: Subject's conditioning was an almost complete failure. Prone to directionless anger and knee-jerk insubordination. This is unacceptable, in spite of relatively mild health complications and the second-highest combat performance out of the cohort. It is my recommendation that 21 be terminated prior to beginning phase 2.
Subject J-027: Subject's conditioning has been partially successful, but has left her almost completely despondent. She follows instructions, but is very nearly non-verbal. She experiences mild health complications and performs in combat at an acceptable level. Retain for phase 2 for further study.
Subject J-032: Subject's conditioning was a novel partial success. While educational, this has left her both volatile and exceptionally violent as well as emotionally detached. Frustratingly, she has the least health complications and highest combat performance of any of the subjects from the cohort. It is my recommendation that 32 be terminated prior to beginning phase 2.
— Memo on final combat-ready prototype files, recovered from secure database
"Come on, we can still catch them," you lie, pushing off down the shaft even more aggressively. Graves sighs, but follows. He seems to be resigned to letting you take the lead here, despite this being his ship — you'd like to imagine it's because of your air of competence and authority, but you have a sneaking suspicion that it's so he's not responsible when this all goes sideways.
The shafts all meld together as you go, with the two you're ostensibly still chasing nowhere to be seen. Which isn't a surprise — you know you won't catch up in time. Best to keep up appearances, though:
You flip open your comm unit, contacting the bridge. An irritable sounding communications officer answers. "What is it?"
"This is Himegami. I've lost track of one of the delegates."
"And you're telling me?" the voice demands.
"Well, yeah, I thought you'd maybe--"
"Do your job!" he snaps. Then the call ends.
Well, you've done all you can do! Or, well, no, that's a lie. But you have done the bare minimum you can do, which is more important under the circumstances. There were things you could have done to sell the urgency of the situation, people who actually know you whose ear you could have bent. And later, someone might call you on that. Or if you're lucky, you might get away with it. Either way, though, for now there's something very bad happening out in space again, and you can't do a thing about it yourself. You've never seen Agnieszka pilot before, but you have seen Jay fight plenty of times. If she really is better than him like he's implied, setting her loose on whatever enemy is attacking you is at least making some kind of difference.
You both arrive at the hangar in time to find it in turmoil. The strange mecha Angieszka came in with — the Cerberus, you recall — is already up and moving toward the mecha airlock, which is being opened for her. When you have a mecha up and moving in a space like this without proper lock down procedures, it is understandable to want it out as soon as possible.
"Looks like we're too late," you say, stopping yourself short. You're just barely quick enough to grab Graves' arm as he misses his handhold and starts to fly out into the hangar. He dangles awkwardly out into space for a second or two, before you help him to the nearest handhold.
"Yeah, you sound real broken up," he snarls, panting from exertion. It's not like running, but having you catch and readjust one's course over and over again while going fast in zero-g takes a lot out of you, eventually.
"Well, we tried," you say. "If she makes it out there, that's another mecha on our side, ideally. She's like Jay — they're hardly helpless."
Graves opens his mouth to say something, but another impact shakes the ship. This one a deeper, more resonant bass that nearly throws you clear of your handhold. "That hit metal!" he says, eyes very wide.
Because you're a good person, you don't say 'no shit'. But you certainly broadcast it a little with the look you shoot him. "We need to find a compartment to strap down in," you say, grimly.
"No complaints here," Graves mutters. An impact like that can smash your head against the wall of a shaft as easily as not, even if the next one doesn't just breach the hull outright. You can already see the few maintenance personnel here in the hangar scrambling to restore order after the shaking dies down.
The pair of you back out of the hangar, alarms blaring louder in your ears as you head for the nearest suitable compartment — he's leading now, more confident in his knowledge of the ship's layout.
"This," you say all at once, as another impact rocks the ship, jarring your hand badly as you attempt to cling to a handhold, "is so much worse than being in a mecha!"
"What, worse than someone shooting at you personally?" Graves asks.
"Yes!" you say. "Then at least I can— ow!" a residual shudder causes you to bite down on your own tongue, which is very annoying timing. At the same time, your communicator begins to chime an emergency sort of tone. Through a sixth sense about when you're in trouble, you somehow know before you even pick up that this is someone calling to yell at you over letting Arianne leave the ship, much sooner than you would have expected. Sure enough, Bernard's voice cuts in before you can even try to say something past your throbbing tongue.
"You had one job!" he shouts. You wish you had a hand free to hold the earpiece away from your ear a little.
"Yeah, sorry about that, sir!" you manage to say, slightly out of breath as you follow Graves. "I called it in."
"Who did you call?" his tone is dangerously stressed. Which is understandable, he likely actually knows what's going on outside.
"The bridge," you say, "to make sure that that the hangar got locked down, and it got passed onto you. The comms officer brushed me off, and by that point, it was too late." You are absolutely throwing someone under the bus here, but the comms officer was being a dick anyway, so you don't feel too badly about it. "I tried to stop those two from leaving, but have you seen how they all move in zero-g? It's ridiculous." And kind of sexy, although Agnieszka's brand of murder aura isn't your thing even if you were interested in women.
"'They?'" He seems less immediately angry at you than he had a second ago, which was your hope here.
"J-Subjects," you say. "I've seen— shit!" your shoulder hits the side of the shaft, and this time it's Graves who grabs hold of your arm to keep you from hitting any more surfaces. "Still trying to get strapped down, sir," you say, through gritted teeth.
"We'll speak more later," he allows, grudgingly. "Don't get your brains bashed out."
"Don't get us all killed, sir," you reply. He actually laughs at that, before ending the call.
"Who was that?" Graves asks, stopping in front of a hatch.
"Oh, just the High Commander," you say, innocently.
"Fuck. Why didn't you just let it ring?" Graves asks.
"What can I say? I love being yelled at," you say.
He breaks the emergency seal on the compartment, which takes a moment before he can slip in and you can follow. To your surprise, you very quickly realise that this compartment isn't empty at all.
"Seal the door!" Lovak says, distractedly. He glances up at you and frowns. "And get strapped in, at least. You both look like shit."
"Well, if you insist," you say, doing as he instructs. The hatch seals with a slightly creaking hiss, and you fumble your way to the nearest wall-mounted harness. It's only once you finally get your fumbling hands to fasten you into it that you look up and really take stock of your surroundings here:
You're in a small compartment, seemingly mostly used as a break room for this level of the ship. There's a food and drink dispenser against one wall, some magnetic tables, and a lonely, ancient workstation. One of the room's several inhabitants is strapped down to it. "What are you doing?" Graves demands.
Lovak's armcandy looks up from where he's furiously navigating through what definitely doesn't look like the publicly accessible areas of the ship's file structure. "Telling us all what's going on out there," he says sweetly. That sly, slightly wicked smile would be distracting for you under other circumstances. As it is, you glance around at the several other guards who are in the compartment, evidently having just watched the two delegates do this without objection.
Somehow you doubt that this has been authorised, but you can already tell you'd be swimming against the tide if you objected. And you aren't exactly going to complain, once he somehow manages to get first a copy of the scan map up on his display, and then a feed from some exterior cameras. All your attention turns to trying to get some sense of the fight you're missing:
It could be a lot better, frankly. Your forces look scattered, facing an enemy moving skillfully through space. Everything is distant enough that the camera feeds are very nearly useless, but the map at least can be followed. "I guess this is what happens when I'm not out there using my winning personality to boost morale," you murmur, more to try and entertain yourself than to convince anyone else. Graves at least laughs, if not very hard.
You can't tell who, precisely, the enemy is from this feed alone — but the moving objects on the map that have been flagged as hostile mecha or ships are plainly visible.
"You're a pilot, normally?" Lovak asks, his dark eyes not looking up from the display.
"Yes, when my leg isn't a mess," you agree.
"And when she hasn't just gotten her unit shot out from under her," Graves mutters, if anything even more transfixed than Lovak.
You don't offer a correction as to how, precisely, your mecha got banged up — shot out from under you is certainly what was about to happen before you took decisive action, after all. "I am currently in between machines," you admit. "The rest of my squad is out there, of course."
"Well, given that they're between me and an untimely death, I wish them luck," Lovak says. "I must say, though, I'm not particularly impressed by the counterintelligence measures that the AIJ is employing for this meeting."
"Tell you what. If we all blow up, you can tell us all you told us so," you say. But your heart isn't really in it. For once, you blowing up is not at the top of your priority list: those little dots on that scan map, the flashes of light on the camera feed... those are your friends, and squadmates, not to mention Jay in particular.
The end of the battle doesn't take that long, objectively, but for you, having already affected the outcome of the fight in the small way you can, it feels like an eternity.
Article: What is the outcome of this fight?
Kana is injured and without a mecha. She was not able to participate in this skirmish, which results in the number of choices you can select for this vote being reduced by one. Because you involved Agnieszka in the battle, one of the more severe consequences has been removed.
Picktwoone option from the following list. You have one second chance remaining. If you are using a second chance, use plan voting.
[ ] None of the Esther Strova's pilots are lost
[ ] No important allies were hurt
[ ] There isn't a breakdown of relations with either of the other rebel groups
[ ] You don't further alienate your Imperial allies
[ ] You don't lose the engagement
Last edited:
Vote closed update 031
Update 032: Aftermath V
Gazetteer
Alleged poisoner
- Location
- Nova Scotia
- Pronouns
- She/Her
There isn't a breakdown of relations with either of the other rebel groups: 11
No important allies were hurt: 10
You don't further alienate your Imperial allies: 8
None of the Esther Strova's pilots are lost: 4
None of the Esther Strova's pilots are lost, there isn't a breakdown of relations with either of the other rebel groups: 3
You don't further alienate your Imperial allies, none of the Esther Strova's pilots are lost: 2
No important allies were hurt: 10
You don't further alienate your Imperial allies: 8
None of the Esther Strova's pilots are lost: 4
None of the Esther Strova's pilots are lost, there isn't a breakdown of relations with either of the other rebel groups: 3
You don't further alienate your Imperial allies, none of the Esther Strova's pilots are lost: 2
RECRUIT So, what do you really wanna hear? No secrets here. You know where I came from!
SCREENING OFFICER: What kind of training did you receive at your previous outfit?
RECRUIT: Pfft, outfit? Nothing that fancy. It's not like station militias have much for that. I convinced someone to teach me how to pilot, and he did, and I'm pretty good at it. Do I get a new mecha?
SCREENING OFFICER: I'm concerned you're not taking this seriously.
RECRUIT: What's the point in taking it too seriously? You've got a job for me, I can do it well, and you know I can, otherwise why are we talking? It's like... we're out here risking our necks. We might die! So why act like we're already at a funeral? Life's too short — one minute you're here, and the next you're just... space junk. You never know when your luck runs out.
— Screening interview excerpt taken from secure AIJ database
Space
Ordinarily, Agnieszka lives for combat. No need to hold back or restrain her most natural impulses, no need to worry about explaining herself or disappointing anyone. Instead, she can kill as many people as she likes as long as they're enemies, and she'll even get praised for it afterward by Arianne. This goes out the airlock, of course, when Arianne is with her. Looking out at the battlefield, every red dot on the scan map is one more thing that could do harm to Agnieszka's charge — the worst of both worlds.
The AIJ at least has her Cerberus's signature in their system — despite her colours, they won't shoot at her, except by accident. The Divine Navy on the other hand, has just seen her launch from an enemy ship. They'll see her as a captured unit repurposed by the enemy, and will not hesitate to treat her accordingly.
Sure enough, just as soon as Agnieszka clears the mecha bay, she's taking fire from a Divine Navy Banner. It misjudges just how fast the Cerberus can accelerate. She hurtles through space like a homing missile, going up over the arc of fire from the enemy mecha. When she makes contact, Agnieszka unsheathes the Cerberus's monofilament talons, tearing through armour, cockpit, and pilot. First blood, that satisfaction of doing what she's best at — of the universe throwing everything it can at her the way it has all her life, and that not being enough to stop her from ripping its throat out in turn. That savage confirmation that she's not helpless anymore. And she can't even enjoy it while she's so busy worrying.
"Nieszka?" Arianne's voice asks in her head. She barely has any sensory awareness of her own body while plugged in to a computer system. Still, she will swear up and down that he can feel Arianne's arms around her from behind, in moments like these.
"I'm getting us back to the ship," Agnieszka promises. "Just hold on."
"Did the Divine Navy Follow us here?" Ari asks.
"I don't know," Agnieszka says. She rolls out of the way of a cutter stroke from her first victim's squadmate, before opening up on the Banner with both anti-mecha guns. The enemy mecha is shredded to pieces. "Does it matter?"
"Yes," Ari says, a frown in her voice. "If it's our fault, we have to help!"
"You could get hurt!" Agnieszka says.
"Please, Nieszka?" That just isn't fair. How is she supposed to say no to that?
"... Alright," Agnieszka says. "We'll help."
"I love you, Nieszka," Arianne says.
"I love you too," Agnieszka says, letting the words steel her. Then she answers the comm requests she's been getting from the long-distance shuttle they arrived in. The tone she uses is infinitely less soft and sentimental than the one she'd been using with Arianne. "Lieutenant-Commander," she says, "this is Dame Agnieszka. Are you in danger?"
"Well, we're in combat!" he says, sounding extremely harried. "We're staying in the shelter of this Imperial Guard vessel — they're keeping the worst of it off of us. Is the lady safe?
"Yes," Agnieszka lies. "She's ordered me to assist the rebels. Tell me if you're going to blow up."
"Y-yes, ma'am, I'll make sure to," he says. Agnieszka closes the connection, satisfied, and hurls herself into battle, moving her mecha through space as easily as she had moved her own body through the ship.
/////PoCS\\\\\
Onboard the HDMS Righteous Fire,
Divine Navy patrol ship
Captain Lastport understands now that he has bitten off more than he can chew. What he'd seen going into this was a few ragged, barely-armed rebel vessels, and what was surely the governor's youngest daughter ensnared in a bizarre kidnapping plot.
What he'd gotten was living proof of what his least favourite instructor had said back in the Academy: "You rush into situations before you understand them. One day, it won't just be your neck you're risking that way."
"The second mecha squad is nearly wiped out already, sir," the scans officer reports, looking a little pale.
"We're cut off! We can't retreat, sir!" the helmsman helpfully adds before Lastport can say anything to that.
"Damn it all," he mutters, tasting blood as he goes back to chewing the inside of his cheek raw. His three-ship patrol against five enemy vessels — and not all of the enemy pilots are flying those slap-dash buckets of bolts the rebels usually use. There's at least one real warship out there, of a design he's not familiar with, to say nothing about the high performance mechas that have already been sighted. It seems inconceivable that he'd began this assignment resenting the order to keep tabs on some noble brat, called it a waste of navy resources. Now he only wishes that he'd called for backup.
Boxed in and desperate they might be, they're at least not defenceless. They can black the enemy's eye, at least. "We'll focus on the warship," he says.
"Sir?" his first officer asks.
"Wherever they got that thing, it wasn't trivial to get ahold of," he says. "Just do it." He'll accomplish something with this debacle, at least.
/////PoCS\\\\\
Space, nearby
Azara Black lets out a ragged, half-hysterical laugh as she spirals out of death's reach. Something about dancing wildly along the line between living and dying always has that effect on her. As the enemy Banner swoops back in, Kitty's there, driving it back.
"What did I ever do without you?" Azara asks, through a grin. She almost waits for Kana to make the obvious quip, but Kana isn't here, so Azara hastily fills in her line: "Oh, that's right! I got my eye shot out."
"Try to focus, Black," Kitty says. "This is all too chaotic to relax."
Which is true enough. Azara misses Kana fiercely for more than just their mutual love of inappropriate humour amid the fury of combat. As great as Kitty is, Kana and Sunny were the ones that she trained with, fought with for the longest time. She hadn't realised how much of her own combat style was built around the rough edges of Kana's seat-of-her-pants, desperation fighting until she'd had to do without it. They definitely work best with someone more serious riding herd, but they lose something with just one or the other.
The mecha fight has turned into a general melee, the Imperial Guard taking the brunt of the enemy attention, leaving the enemy mechas jammed in between the Imperial Guard Halberdiers and the AIJ forces. This leaves them clear of the Garter Snake, which is good — it took more than a few hits in the early parts of the fight.
Near to where Kitty and Azara are fighting, Jay is engaging an entire squad of Banners on his own, his Hecate's swarm of laser emitters pinning them down so that strange mecha with the claws can take them apart. They're working almost eerily well together. Cam is nearby, providing support with her Lancer.
"I could really use some help over here!" a voice says over the general comm. Shae. She's cut off from their allies, pursued by two enemy Banners.
"We're moving to assist," Kitty says. "Hang on, Price." Shae can't exactly do anything else in her current circumstances. Azara follows behind her squad leader.
One of the enemy mecha chasing Shae turns around and fires on them as they approach. Azara is forced to go into a controlled spin to avoid the raking fire. Shae is being harrassed by both a standard Banner and, incongruously, a Heavy Banner — with the introduction of Azara and Kitty into the mix, AIJ pilots, it ceases to be a chase and becomes a general struggle.
The heavy opens up with its anti-ship cannon. Kitty manages to dart out of the way, but Azara is just a little bit too slow in hurling her unit clear of the lethal firing arc. Her Pennant is clipped, and she's knocked off course while alarms blare.
"Not again," Azara groans, head spinning, even as Kitty and Shae form up to defend her. "I'm fine, just rattled!" she says.
"Shit, she's not responding!" Jay's voice cuts in.
"Yes, I am," Azara says, blinking.
"Not you, he means Cam!" Kitty says.
Oh. Oh no. The rounds that had mostly missed Azara had, in the end, found a mark. The anti-ship fire has torn into the narrow frame of Cam's Lancer, leaving it drifting alone in space. It looks half-gutted, half crushed.
"Cam? Cam!" Jay's voice actually takes on a shade of real emotion, as preoccupied as he is with continuing his fight. Azara, Kitty, and Shae are similarly tied up. Azara nearly groans with relief as, finally, Cam's voice comes over the comm:
"... What? Where am..." she sounds bleary, dazed. It's hard to tell if she's fading in and out of consciousness, or if it's just her damaged comms equipment.
"Hang on, we're going to get you help," Jay tells her.
"I... I messed up bad, huh?" Cam manages.
"No, it was just bad luck," he says.
"Figures. Ryan's gonna... he'll be so mad."
"Are you hurt?" Jay asks.
Cam doesn't seem to hear him. "I said... I told him 'not a scratch' when he... when he lent it. Now his whole Lancer... his Lancer... the whole thing's, it's trashed. So... he'll be mad. Sorry." She sounds almost like she's falling asleep now. Azara feels her one eye burn, and blinks rapidly — the last thing she needs is zero-g tears in her helmet.
"Cam, are you there? Can you hear me?" Jay asks. There's a pause of two seconds that feel like two years.
"... Sorry," Cam says one last time... and then never again. The battle doesn't pause for her — it never does.
/////PoCS\\\\\
Onboard the AIJ Garter Snake
Whoever ever said that it's better to be sitting back on a ship watching a battle take place than it is to be in the thick of things can, to put it quite delicately, get fucked.
It's with an almost numb feeling of dread that you approach the hangar once the ship has come off lockdown. The fight is finally over, leaving the Garter Snake battered, but still operational. This is partially because the Imperial Guard took the worst of it — they accounted for at least one enemy ship going down on their own, but not without cost. You'd wonder how they're taking that, if you didn't have more pressing concerns at the moment.
You see the knot of pilots off to one side, out of the way of the technicians swarming all over the damaged mechas. You see Jay floating apart from the main group, stoically downing his medication. Azara and Kitty are here too, drifting close together. The others you can see are all from the Garter Snake.
You come in fast enough that you startle Kitty as you grab the handhold behind her. "Cam?" you ask, voice sharp.
"She's... still in the Lancer," Azara says, uncharacteristically subdued. You follow her gaze — Ryan's Lancer, which Cam had been piloting, is absolutely shot to shit. The rounds that had found their mark were heavy enough to half-mangle its light armour, leaving one of its limbs hanging on by little more than stubbornness. The head is simply gone entirely. And the cockpit, where you'd looked first but refused to fully register, is horribly staved in and breached in several places. The people who are working to pry it open aren't in a particular hurry, but they're certainly being grim about it.
Which means there's no one to save.
All you can think about now is her back on the station, going out of her way to offer to set you up with a new mecha for no other reason than she's a good teammate. "... Well, shit," you mutter. As if in answer, Azara lunges for you, giving you a tight, two-armed squeeze. You don't stop her, although you grunt with discomfort as Kitty swallows her pride and turns out into an impromptu group hug.
"It looked bad out there," you say, inanely.
"You're not allowed to break your leg from now on," Azara says, voice quavering. Kitty actually laughs at that, a startled, half-strangled sound.
"Well, I didn't do it on purpose," you mutter. Which you suppose is good enough for them, if not quite for your guilt. The three of you stay like that for several long minutes, and it's a mark of your rock bottom mood that you can stomach this much emotional vulnerability for this long before you start to get antsy.
You catch sight of Jay drifting off on his own, and you worm your way free. "It's... good you both made it," you tell them, words stiff and awkward. "I need a minute." Azara follows your gaze in some confusion, but doesn't stop you.
As you reminded yourself earlier, it's annoyingly difficult to catch a J-Subject when they're really moving in zero-g. He's not going so fast, though, instead keeping to the edge of the hangar and moving slow enough for safety. You somewhat exceed that. "Tham!" you hiss, grabbing the handhold in front of him, almost missing. Automatically, he reaches out a hand to steady you before you can bang your leg on a wall or something again.
"Kana," he says, as if he's not even that surprised by this interception. He doesn't let go of your shoulder, even though you're perfectly steady now.
"You alright?" you whisper. He and Cam were close.
Maybe he'd answer that question differently if it came from someone else. From you, what it gets is: "No. Find me later?" It's a genuine request, not just a dismissal.
"Right, sure," you say. "Where are you going now?"
"My sister," Jay says, nodding toward Agnieszka's mecha. She's floating there, looking exhausted, but not willing to budge from the spot. The reason for this is obviously that, beside her, looking calm and alert, is Arianne Grangier, currently talking to a higher ranking crowd than you actually want to deal with at the moment.
"I'll... just leave you to that for now, then?" you offer.
He nods, but adds, the faintest ghost of a plaintive note somewhere in his voice: "Later, though?"
"Yeah," you say, watching after him. "Later."
Article: The precise fallout from this battle will be felt in the coming days and weeks following an early end to the conference, but several of the representatives are now more comfortable continuing negotiations in AIJ controlled territory.
Over that period of time, Kana will continue to recover, and her fellow pilots will deal with the aftermath of yet another loss. What relationships do you want to develop or highlight in the next update? In all events, there will be a scene alone with Jay and a scene addressing Cam's passing with the rest of the Esther Strova's crew, as well as news on Kana's replacement mecha.
Pick one from the following list:
[ ] Check back in with your three favourite prisoners
[ ] Bond with Lieutenant Amani North over the experience of watching people you love 'die' from the safety of a ship
[ ] Bond with Guard-Lieutenant Mosi North over mutual recent losses
Pick two from the following list (results counted separately):
[ ] Fresh off of your painkillers, you get completely wasted with Kitty and Azara
[ ] You and Jay keep an eye on Arianne and Agnieszka, which makes Arianne thrilled
[ ] Have an awkward talk about family with Ryan and Shae Price
[ ] You go see how Nazaret's doing, they introduce you to someone unexpected
[ ] You finally manage to get Commander Milo Owusu to open up about something personal
Vote closed update 032
Update 033: Decompressing
Gazetteer
Alleged poisoner
- Location
- Nova Scotia
- Pronouns
- She/Her
Check back in with your three favourite prisoners: 17
You and Jay keep an eye on Arianne and Agnieszka, which makes Arianne thrilled: 37
Fresh off of your painkillers, you get completely wasted with Kitty and Azara: 21
You and Jay keep an eye on Arianne and Agnieszka, which makes Arianne thrilled: 37
Fresh off of your painkillers, you get completely wasted with Kitty and Azara: 21
Message received, well done. Please stand by for extraction.
— Source unknown
Tanner Station,
De Facto AIJ headquarters
Things have gotten very awkward with the Imperials very fast. They're not exactly handing out precise numbers, but the Imperial Guard lost at least one pilot in the attack, and now clearly feel that they took the brunt of the attack unnecessarily. The SRI, from what you can gather, merely continues to be concerned that your operation isn't nearly as competent as they might have hoped. Not a ringing endorsement from either of them, at the moment.
You do have some good news, however — the incident somehow galvanised the fragile link between the AIJ, the Shields of Jupiter, and the SSLF. It's temporary, likely, but all together, it's been enough for the delegations to consent to continuing more firmly within AIJ territory. Which is good enough for you — it means you'll be able to get a bit of rest at home.
The best part of which is finally having this fucking cast off, even if you get a twinge of pain every now and then for putting too much weight on the leg under gravity. For this reason, you're leaning heavily on your good side as you pound your fist against Jay's door. When it abruptly slides open, you manage to lean against the doorframe in a way that's halfway cool, instead of toppling into his quarters.
"I heard you the first time," he says. He glances down at the lack of a cast. "How's the leg?"
"Less like shit than it was before," you say, pushing past him without waiting to be invited, stepping into his space as though you own the place, which is just part of the dating-Himegami-Kana experience. "You told me to find you later." You'd talked more onboard the Garter Snake, of course, but things had been too busy for there to be much of a quiet moment for anything like what you needed.
Jay seals the door again. "Well, you found me," he agrees. He's a little taken aback when, the moment he turns around, you grab him by the shoulders, and kiss him hard on the mouth. He lets out a satisfying sound of surprise as his back hits the door, but he catches on quickly enough, one of his hands finding its way into your hair even as his other arm takes you around the waist. When you break apart, you're both breathing hard, and you rest your head against his shoulder almost sullenly.
"I fucking hate not being able to do anything while you're all fighting," you mutter.
He takes a moment to catch his breath and process this. "You... were worried. About me, too?"
Of course you had been — he's not invincible. "Maybe I would have just missed the sex."
He huffs an almost grudging little laugh, his grip on you tightening. You can tell he knows what you really meant.
After a while, you gather your thoughts, and carefully ask: "I know she didn't have any family left. But did she ever have anyone... special?"
"Cam had a lot of friends," Jay says, studying the ceiling tile as his hand idly strokes through your hair — you're wearing it down today. "She didn't do relationships, though. Or sex."
"That tracks," you say, thinking back to various interactions with her. You've met people who just weren't interested before, but even by those standards, she'd been awkward about the whole topic. "How do you feel?" you ask him.
"Right now?" he says. "A little better. In general, though... like I'm going to watch everyone else die. Like I'm going to be the last one left."
You lift your head off of his shoulder enough to give him a half-hearted glare. "The world doesn't actually revolve around you, Tham. I plan on living to at least a hundred, just out of spite."
"You would do that," he agrees, as if that answers that. Sometimes, it's still nice to pretend.
"We'll just have to work on keeping everyone else safe too," you add, voice quiet.
Jay lets out a tiny, quiet sigh. "That's the trick." After a moment, he says: "I wish I'd gotten to introduce Cam to Thir— Agnieszka."
You ignore the near slipup. "Cam would have found her terrifying," you point out.
"Yes," Jay admits. "But... still."
It occurs to you, not for the first time, that unlikely as it might seem... Cam had been the closest thing Jay had to a best friend. This time, the thought gives you another fresh pang for her, and for him. "What's it been like having your sister here?" you ask, changing the subject slightly.
"Strange," he says, shrugging. "I... don't know that I like Grangier."
"They can't keep their hands off each other," you point out.
"Yes," he says, disgruntled. "It's... not like my sister."
"She seems to like it," you say, carefully.
He gives a skeptical "hm" sound. "I'm the one watching them, sometimes," he says. "Guard duty, essentially." You suspect that Agnieszka is more a danger to any other given person on this station than the other way around, but he certainly doesn't need you to point that out to him.
"I'm not surprised."
"Grangier wants you to come 'keep me company' while I'm over there, sometime," he says. "I'm not sure why."
"Do you want me there?" you ask.
Jay thinks about it for a moment. "Yes," he says.
"Well," you say, "I suppose I can pencil you in, then."
/////PoCS\\\\\
Cam's funeral is, somehow, even more depressing than you'd thought it would be. Everyone liked Cam, even if they didn't know her that well. It's a grim affair, setting what's left of her to rest in a spacer's funeral — you'd waited until you were back here for Ryan's sake, and for the other friends she'd had back on Tanner. It's a draining affair that feels far longer than it really is.
You're almost dreading what comes after, because it will be a reminder of just how few of you there are left. But you and the other pilots find an empty docking bay, and you supply a large pouch of peach vodka.
The losses aren't the only change that's obvious: Azara has opted to wrap her arms around Kitty instead of hanging onto a proper handhold. You and Jay aren't being that obnoxious, but you're closer to him than you are to your own squad, between Jay and Ryan in your extremely theoretical circle. Ryan doesn't seem to mind, precisely, but it does make him look even more tired and alone than he already is.
"Hey," says a new voice.
You all look up as a tall, red-haired woman drifts into the chamber, giving you all a bit of a weak smile.
"Private affair, Price," you tell her, giving her your most withering fuck off look.
"No, I invited her," Ryan says, running his free hand over his face. He really does look like he hasn't slept in days. "She's being reassigned to the Esther Strova. So... she's one of us. And she knew Cam."
Kitty nods slowly, and Azara doesn't object. You almost do, until Jay says, quietly, "There will actually be enough of us for a proper circle this way, Kana."
You force yourself to untense, shoving the alcohol into his hands, even though he's the only one of you who won't be touching it. "Right. Since those two are fouling up the shape." You gesture at Azara and Kitty, who look completely unrepentant.
Shae relaxes, gliding over to catch herself short on a handhold in the rough gap between Ryan and Kitty.
Jay studies the label on the vodka packaging before he breaks the silence, before he goes first: "Cam was... the first real friend I ever had outside my sisters. Before my first squad, or Kana, or... anyone." For a moment, you're worried he's really going to take a drink, dangerous combination with his drugs or not. But he keeps talking after a minute or so instead. "They'd just managed to put the Hecate together. It was a bit of a mess — I had to do a lot of the maintenance myself, even then. She just showed up, started talking to me. I was never friendly, but she just kept coming. Helped, eventually. I didn't know how much I needed people, before that." He passes the pouch to Azara, who stretches an arm out to catch it out of the air.
"Cam had that shy, innocent girl thing going on," Azara says, already snapping the seal on the pouch. "You know what I mean. No matter how many people she shot or we had to bury, she was still just... so harmless-looking. Absolutely cleaned me out the couple times I got her to put up any money for a game, though." There's no indication she resents this — even now, Azara actually seems impressed at the memory. She doesn't seem to know how to finish this, and so she just takes a gulp, and hands it over the incredibly short distance to Kitty.
Kitty takes a moment or two longer to find her thoughts than Azara had, staring more into the middle distance than at anything in particular. "She could have stayed here," she says, finally. "Been a mechanic. R&D always wanted her — but she turned it down, because she said we needed pilots. We needed pilots." She looks around at your group. "I'm going to try not to forget that she died for that." Then she takes just as generous a drink as Azara had, and passes the pouch to Shae.
Shae is clearly nervous, looking around at you all for a long, quiet moment. "First time I met her, I'd just broken my squad leaders' tablet — he'd lent it to me, and fifteen minutes later... I'd fucked it, somehow. So, I was panicking a little in a docking bay like this one, and this woman just... takes it out of my hands, has the tools to open it up right there on her, and she does something. And it works again." Shae takes a long, grateful swig, although she's unable to repress a face at the sugary sweet flavour. "I'm glad I fought with her, even if it was just the once." Then she hands it off to Ryan.
Ryan takes in a deep breath, like he's been bracing himself for this. It takes him almost a minute before he can make himself speak. "She was awful to watch anything with. Just... the worst. Nitpicking about historical accuracy, about what model of gun or ship was onscreen for five seconds, making fun of the dialogue if it wasn't absolutely naturalistic." He stops there, gripping the pouch so hard you're worried it will burst. "And before she left... She gave Audrey this little toy spaceship. Same model as what she says... same as the one that should have been in the last movie we—" He squeezes his eyes shut, taking in a long, ragged breath, as if waging an inner battle with himself. He loses. Letting go of the vodka and the handhold both, he buries his face in both hands, and lets himself drift as the tears start.
Before he can go too far, Jay manages to put an arm around him, and Ryan doesn't resist as he's drawn in against Jay's slight, stoic form.
The vodka goes at a trajectory that you're close enough to intercept, at least. Glancing at Ryan, you only offer a few quiet words, very aware of the piece of salvaged metal hanging off your bracelet. "She was a good friend." Then you take a long, deep drink. The burning sweetness of it as it hits your palate is exactly what you need.
Jay ends up taking care of Ryan, silently signalling for you to go on ahead. Shae has some paperwork to go over with Captain Leski. That just leaves you and your squad, with only one goal between the three of you: Get drunker. To this end, you find yourselves back in gravity, in a side room at Section Ten, making up for all the alcohol you couldn't have while you were on painkillers.
You swallow a mouthful of sugary cooler, and scowl at your squadmates. "Can you try to restrain yourselves for at least a few minutes?" you ask.
Azara breaks off the kiss she's in the midst of, grinning at you. She's practically in Kitty's lap at this point, a drink in one hand, the other wrapped around Kitty's shoulders. "Oh, lighten up, Pirate," she says. She waits a moment — coincidentally long enough for Kitty to take a sip of her drink — before she adds: "You could always just join in."
Kitty chokes, spitting cocktail all over the floor. You just give a snort, derisively amused. "You aren't nearly drunk enough for that to be charming instead of just creepy, Azara." This is a lie: It's fairly hilarious.
Azara shrugs. "Well, standing offer!" she says.
"Sadly, I think my boyfriend might object," you say. In addition to the far more pertinent issue of you not being attracted to women.
Azara narrows her one eye at you. "See, that? Holding out on us! You never said it was serious!"
You examine your fingernails — they're in need of a trim, actually, so it's not just an affectation for once. "Black, I've never been serious about a boyfriend in my life. You know this."
"Oh, Sol, you are serious about him," Azara says, finishing her drink.
"How can you possibly tell that?" Kitty asks.
"She's not saying no," Azara explains, "and also she's all like 'hey, look at me, I'm a cold and snarky badgirl who no one gets close to, I go through men like vape cartridges and I can't even spell love!' That's Pirate for 'yes.'"
You glower menacingly over the rim of your glass. "You know, we're in gravity. I can still throw this drink on you." Your expression only succeeds in setting Azara to laughing uncontrollably, putting her drink down so she can clutch at Kitty with both hands. That's fine, honestly — people process grief differently, and all three of you are here to distract yourselves. Some people need quiet, dignified introspection. Azara needs to get drunk and laugh a little too loudly at things that weren't that funny, and make out with her girlfriend like they might both be dead tomorrow..
"How did you two even happen?" Kitty asks. She's enjoying Azara's mirth, even if she's not joining in on it herself.
You shrug. "Well, he kissed me, and I didn't stop him."
Kitty raises her eyebrows. "That's it?"
"He's a good kisser," you say, with absolutely no inclination to get into the messy details of that incident.
Azara, who's just gotten ahold of herself, manages to ask: "Any good in bed, though?"
"Well, I've had a lot worse," you allow.
Kitty, lip twitching with suppressed laughter, pinches the bridge of her nose, eyes squeezed shut. "You know, I was worried that Kana was going to be a third wheel here. That's not really how I feel at this point."
You smile sweetly. "You know me — I live to exceed all your wildest expectations."
"The worst part is that I don't think you're even wrong," Kitty complains, rolling your eyes.
This time, you do laugh. When it ends, the three of you drift off into companionable silence — the kind with a lot of drinking in it.
Eventually, without much warning Azara sits up, holding her nearly empty bottle up. "To Cam," she says, words already slurring. "And... everyone."
You all drink to that.
/////PoCS\\\\\
There is a kind of person who doesn't get hangovers. Those people, you're absolutely certain, deserve to all be rounded up and summarily shot.
You wake up with a savage, pounding headache, and a mouth that tastes like death, and at first, it's all you can do to get up and slug down some painkiller tablets — the normal kind, not the ones you'd been on previously.
It's around then that a message shrills from your comm unit, cutting through the relative silence with merciless cruelty, like someone driving a knife right into each of your eyes. Fuck — is there something you forgot? Are you late for something? Your bleary vision can't immediately make out who the call's from, so you just accept.
"Himegami?" the voice asks.
"Speaking," you say, trying not to sound too furious. "Am I supposed to be somewhere?"
"Not that I'm aware of," the voice says. "Are you alright?"
"I am fabulous," you say, which is in the running for the most outrageous lie you've ever told. And it's stiff competition for that spot. "Why are you calling at—" you register the station time: 1035. "... this objectively reasonable hour?"
"Are you available to come down to the jail?"
You blink, trying to process that. "Did I do something?"
"No," the person on the other end of the line says, "One of the prisoners wants to talk to you."
Oh. Shit. You ask the first question that comes to mind: "Which one?"
Once the call ends, you make yourself presentable enough to stagger, zombielike, out of your quarters and find your way around the ring to the nearest transfer shaft. Despite having nothing in your stomach, you're not looking forward to combining your hangover with zero-gravity, but you don't have much of a choice.
Have they really not rehoused any of the prisoners yet? It seems a little cruel to keep them cooped up in a zero-g cell this entire time.
At the very least, you don't need to bribe this guard, since you've got actual business being here. Still, he looks at the state you're in, smirks, and asks: "Fun night, last night?"
You almost wish you'd throw up on him. "Buried my friend," you tell him instead, and you take a small, vicious amount of pleasure in his mortified grimace and muttered apologies.
It's not so long before you find yourself at your ultimate destination — an interrogation room that might just be a meeting room, most of the time, across from one of the prisoners. It's the first time you've actually been in the same room as her, with nothing separating you.
"Did you miss me that much?" you ask, trying your hardest to ignore the coffee pouch she's sipping from. You can't smell it, but you can imagine the scent, and even that much hits your stomach like a load of bricks.
Naiya Beryl doesn't dignify that with a response. "You look like shit," she tells you.
"And yet, I'm not chained to anything right now," you say, noting her leg cuffed to the base of the table surface. "Why am I here, exactly?"
She lets out a small laugh, then takes a sip of coffee, as if she resents giving you even that much. "Does... everyone know? About what you used to be, I mean."
Oh. This is going to be a girl-to-girl talk between dubiously reformed pirates, then. "Yes," you tell her.
"And... how do they treat you here?" She studies you intently, clearly wary of you, but not exactly having anyone else to turn to.
You think about that. It's a more complicated question than it should be. "Some of them are dicks about it," you decide. "I'm not the easiest person to like at the best of times, of course." Naiya snorts, as if this isn't something that needs to be pointed out. You ignore her as you carry on. "Enough aren't, though. And we have plenty of former Divine Navy here, too, if that's your next question. Most of us had lives before the AIJ, and they weren't all very glamorous or heroic."
Naiya frowns hard, taking a long, slow sip of the coffee. "So... you really believe in this? What you're doing here?"
A dozen dismissive or snide comments drift through your head. Fighting all your instincts, you ignore each in turn. "Yes. Some days, anyway. It's a good way to end up dead, though, turns out."
Naiya seems unphased by this last, her dark brows not furrowing any further than they already were. "I... miss things meaning anything, sometimes," she says. Then after a pause, she adds: "They've asked me to join up. Offered me a job, I guess."
"I wouldn't hate it if you said yes," you say. Which is not quite admitting that you like her, but she should hopefully get the idea.
Naiya actually twitches a smile at that. "Maybe I wouldn't either."
On your way out, you're left to marvel that, somehow, you hadn't messed any of that up. You actually think you've managed to talk a prisoner around into becoming a pilot, even if it's taken you a while.
"So, what happened to the kid?" you ask the guard.
He shrugs. "She's helping R&D with some big project, so they moved her somewhere nicer for cooperating."
"Still keeping an eye on her, I hope," you say, frowning a little.
The guard shrugs again. "She's pretty harmless without that mecha. I've got a daughter older than her, for fuck's sake. It's nothing we can't handle."
You have a vivid memory of being in the cockpit while she slaughtered a third of your ship's pilots. You open your mouth to argue with him, when a raised voice grabs your attention.
"Do you expect me to beg? Is that it? Is that why you're here, you fucking traitor?"
The guard makes a beeline down the shaft toward the open hatch the noise is coming from. You, being incurably nosy, glance. You're greeted by the sight of Su Limin, still here, apparently, alone in a cell, screaming at someone who has apparently come to visit her. "That's it, right? Because you just fucking hate me this much, right?"
Guard-Lieutenant Mosi North lets out a sigh. The bright shades of her Imperial Guard uniform look almost drab here in this space. "I don't hate you, Su," she tells her, mostly just sounding weary. "We were all kids. And... I know what I am, and what I did. You can't--"
That's all you hear before the guard shuts the hatch, blocking off the argument. And sending another spike of pain through your head. Which is incredibly frustrating, of course — that sounded like it was getting good.
Still, at this point, you have enough time to go home, shut off all the lights, and do absolutely nothing until you have to go out again later.
/////PoCS\\\\\
"Rough night?" Jay asks.
You can't entirely suppress a smile at his dry tone. "Shut up," you say, coming to a stop beside him. You're both in a habitation ring usually reserved for administrative functions — apparently, one of those functions is housing strange but important guests away from the eyes of the rest of the station. "Why does she want me here?" you ask.
"I wasn't sure," Jay admitted, "I was just glad for the excuse to have you along, honestly. It's... awkward, after a while." He pauses for a moment, his hand on the door. Then he admits: "I'm starting to worry this is a double date."
You think back with a certain degree of dread. "Grangier mentioned that, but I thought she was joking." You massage a temple. "Does she know that double agents committing treason are supposed to be serious about it?"
He shrugs. "I think she is being serious. Which is worse."
It's a pretty normal set of Tanner Station living quarters, which feels off, a little, knowing who Arianne Grangier is. She seems perfectly comfortable, however, high noble or not, laying out several portions of something that, admittedly, smells delicious — you haven't eaten all day on the off chance that it might come back up, but by this point, you might be willing to chance it.
"Goulash?" you ask, looking at it questioningly.
"I asked for some ingredients, and they gave them to me," Arianne says, grinning. That sweater and skirt combo she's got on would be pretty impractical for switching between gravities, but it makes her look halfway like a normal person, rather than the richest rich girl you've ever met. "I'm not the best cook, but I think this turned out alright! " You glance around the small space — living area, conspicuously-singular bed, and, sure enough, kitchenette. A lot of these units don't have one. Station fires can be catastrophic, and they're easier to control with a handful of communal kitchens, rather than everyone having their own to burn the place down with.
"Nieszka's had this recipe before, and I've taken out anything that she's allergic to," Arianne adds to Jay. "I don't know if it will be okay for you."
Jay studies it for a lingering moment, consideringly. "Yours were always a little worse than mine," Agnieszka says, speaking up for the first time. She's standing nearby, arms crossed, looking between you all with an impassive expression.
"Well, there's enough of you to carry me to a doctor if I take it badly," Jay says. Which you take to mean that he's not particularly concerned.
"Are you sure? You've put on a lot of muscle since the last time," Agnieszka says. She's still not approaching the rest of you, but you think that this is teasing, somehow. It's impossible to tell.
Jay just rolls his eyes. "I'm supposed to be keeping an eye on you, not eating with you," he says, seemingly just to get it out of the way.
"You can do both," you tell him. Because you really are starving, even if it's liable to be intensely bland. "I'll help."
Arianne smiles. "I'm so glad you made it," she says. Beside her, Agnieszka expresses absolutely none of her enthusiasm for your presence, unfolding herself from the wall and coming over to sit beside Arianne at last.
Once you're all seated, you take a mouthful of hot goulash. Which, true to your expectations, tastes exactly like it was made by a duchess's daughter dabbling in cooking with an incomplete list of ingredients. You're not exactly hard to please at this point, however.
"Where are you from, by the way?" Arianne asks you, taking you by surprise.
You swallow a mouthful of food before answering. "Troy. A... different neighbourhood than you, though, I expect." You make a downward gesture with your fork, indicating just how far below the surface your family had been.
She laughs at this, seemingly delighting in your weak joke, rather than taking offence at the class difference being stressed. "Well, probably!" she agrees. "I was born on Earth, of course, but I basically grew up on Ganymede, so it is what feels most like home now."
You can't help but be interested. "What was it like?"
"Oh, Earth?" Arianne thinks for a moment, crunching away at a mouthful before swallowing, and answering. "... Heavy. And big -- you can just keep walking forever, if you want."
Well, she had been very young. "Do you miss that at all?"
"Well, I was very young," she says airily, unknowingly echoing your thoughts. "And, besides that, Nieszka wouldn't be able to go with me."
Agnieszka frowns very slightly. Like her brother, she does it mostly with her eyes. "You... you shouldn't... you shouldn't give things up just for me."
Arianne, heedless of you and Jay being right fucking there, takes Agnieszka's hand in both of hers, and plants a kiss along its delicate knuckles. "Who else is worth giving them up for?" she asks.
Agnieszka looks away, as though embarrassed, but certainly isn't pulling her hand away.
You take a gulp of your drink, wishing intensely that it were alcoholic, hangover or no. You cannot deal with this shit sober. The sheer sincerity of it is triggering your fight or flight instincts. Honestly, you liked it better when Agnieszka was contemplating your murder. Jay's stiff-backed discomfort beside you is a comfort, at least — you're not suffering alone.
Eventually, Arianne does let her hand go, and they both get back to eating. Agnieszka, of all people, breaks the silence next. "How did you even end up here?" she asks, glancing up at Jay. She pushes some hair out of her face — she has a lot of it, now that you've seen it down. It seems terribly inconvenient for life in space, but you do admit that it makes for a striking visual.
"I fell through the cracks of the Empire's system as early as I could manage," he says. He doesn't seem troubled by the memory, as much as it can't have been pleasant. "Found the AIJ before my meds ran out. They've kept me healthy ever since."
Agnieszka's reply is succinct: "Risky."
"Well, I'm not going to live forever anyway," Jay says, waving off the implied concern. He gives Agnieszka a searching look, as if silently returning the question.
You find yourself exchanging a look with Arianne — it's a little bizarre, seeing the two of them talk. Jay's at least more expressive than she is, but it's not by much. Arianne seems charmed by it, though, a small smile tugging at her lips.
"Lady Arianne knew me... before the project," Agnieszka admits.
Jay does a slow blink. "How?"
"From when we were children," Arianne says. "They must have taken her... by accident. It's one of the reasons anyone found you at all." There's a certain awkwardness about her as she reveals this.
"Because they picked someone anyone would miss, I suppose," he says. Which is close enough to true that Arianne doesn't try to refute it. He looks back to Agnieszka. "You have a birth family, then? Nobles?"
"Dead," Agnieszka says. "Holy Empire purge years ago. I barely remembered anything from before anyway, so I didn't actually know them. Kept the name, though."
"Well," Jay says, nudging his food thoughtfully, like he's trying to think of what's best to say, "it's a good name."
Agnieszka nods. "When did you find out about Six?" she asks.
"Not long ago," Jay says. "An SRI lieutenant was at Titan, and says she knew her. She told me."
"The same one you wanted to maim," you tell Agnieszka.
Agnieszka twitches a tiny smile at that. The expression actually makes your blood run cold. "Only maim?" she asks.
Arianne sighs, and squeezes her arm. "Be nice, Nieszka. We didn't bring her here to terrify her." With a sigh, Agnieszka seems to relent, the ineffable promise of death somehow leaving her narrow frame.
Jay stops and stares for a lingering second. "You... really reign yourself in for her," he says.
"Yes," Agnieszka agrees. "It's good someone can get me to." Arianne responds to this by nestling in against her, generally pleased with life and the world.
Honestly, these two are going to give you diabetes, at this rate.
/////PoCS\\\\\
"If we're ever that lovey dovey in public, I need you to shoot me," you say, giving Jay a plaintive look. The two of you are back out in the ring's main passageway, no one else in sight. He's officially been relieved, although his replacement is staying across the hall, you gather.
"Only if you do me at the same time," Jay mutters.
"It's a promise," you say. With an ironic sort of grin, you wrap your arms around his arm. "Don't worry," you say, "I'm awful at this sort of shit."
"You manage," he says, before kissing you.
How can things be this good, so soon after being so awful? You have to admit, it makes you feel nervous. Like something's about to go very, very wrong. But... hopefully not tonight.
Article: Before your departure from Tanner, Cam managed to do what she promised about getting Kana something particularly well suited to her needs, even if it's based on an old Lancer — Kana will get a chance to look at it in the next update, and will officially have a mecha again.
As per Kana's general preferences, the Lancer has more anti-ship ordinance than normal, as well as being generally hardened, using some spare armour from the wreckage of Kana's Pennant. What else is unique about this unit?
[ ] Increased melee performance
[ ] Increased acceleration
[ ] Increased long-range firepower
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