Sir Isaac Newton is the deadliest son-of-a-bitch in space! For totally different reasons than the quote normally applies to, but speed is both offense and defense. Imagine Kana narrowly using a hull cracker the right way to blow an enemy ship before it blows The Ezzy.
This quest really gives me my Gundam fix so thanks for that!
Edit: just realized the vote closed a month ago lmao, but I'll leave the evidence up anyway
Sir Isaac Newton is the deadliest son-of-a-bitch in space! For totally different reasons than the quote normally applies to, but speed is both offense and defense. Imagine Kana narrowly using a hull cracker the right way to blow an enemy ship before it blows The Ezzy.
This quest really gives me my Gundam fix so thanks for that!
As mentioned last time I posted, my productivity tends to fall off a cliff every Winter, and yet it still always takes me by surprise.
Increased acceleration: 27
Increased melee performance: 9
Increased long-range firepower: 7
A. NORTH: I've gone through those Jovian codes you wanted broken. You're sure this will work? It's a lot to risk.
M. OWUSU: Anyone who says they're sure about this kind of work is incompetent or lying to you. And I'm neither of those things, at the moment.
A. North: You're good at avoiding questions, sir.
M. OWUSU: Thank you, North. I try.
[APPROXIMATELY FORTY THREE SECONDS OF SILENCE]
M. OWUSU: It's a risk, but I don't take gambles I think I'll lose. Especially not with my life.
A. NORTH: These rebels don't precisely have a sterling reputation, sir.
M. OWUSU: The group I'm making contact with isn't particularly radical, or too excessively violent, by the standards of Jovian rebels.
A. NORTH: I'm sure you know what you're doing, sir.
M. OWUSU: As am I! On that note, I am about to ask you for a great deal, North.
A. NORTH: That sounds in character.
M. OWUSU: [Laughter] You're getting to know me a little too well. Joking aside, if I successfully establish contact, will you accept the assignment if I request you be sent as well?
A. NORTH: You mean, will I go to Jupiter, sir?
M. OWUSU: I don't want to put you in the position of turning down a dangerous posting. It won't look good.
A. NORTH: Why me, sir?
M. OWUSU: Because I have every faith in your skills, North. And I trust you, which is more important in these situations. I'll need people I can trust, out there.
A. NORTH: Well, I suppose we weren't going to have the wedding this year anyway.
M. OWUSU: Good woman! You'll make lieutenant over this, easily. They have to give you some incentive to go out where you can credibly be shot at, after all.
A. NORTH: Very reassuring.
M. OWUSU: Cheer up, North. At least we're not working with the Shields of Jupiter.
— Transcript of conversation recorded in the office of Commander Milo Owusu, SRI headquarters, Titan
Private shuttle for the envoys of the Shields of Jupiter Tanner Station, headquarters of the AIJ
"I think you've seen by now that you just can't rely on them for this," Iris Lash says. She leans back as if holding court, strapped into a chair in the shuttle's small debriefing area, leftover from this craft's no doubt long history in the Imperial Navy. Zola Lash is anchored fast by the hatch to the compartment, seemingly standing guard, silent and watchful. There's no discernible hierarchy or division of labour between the Lash twins that Milo Owusu has noticed — they trade out which one takes the lead based on their own unknowable criteria. All he can do is assume they're both equally dangerous and equally competent.
Iris continues: "The AIJ has peoplepower and resources, but they lack expertise. We have that, and you obviously need it."
"Whatever we might need, and whatever the AIJ's shortcomings, your methods are not acceptable," Owusu says. The AIJ had never decided that the destruction of a civilian habitat was acceptable collateral damage. Even so, the issues with the AIJ are becoming increasingly obvious, much to his own frustration. From the incident where Amani had lost her team, to the repeated loss of USE personnel and equipment due to poor AIJ operational security.
He still doesn't know what he's going to say to Glorian next, and he has to explain to her why her fiancée was shot.
"Failure here isn't acceptable." Lucinda Vasquez interjects. The sunburst colours of the two Imperial Guard officers present stand out garish against the drab surroundings of the shuttle. Of the two, Vasquez is by far the more relaxed and talkative, approaching this situation with a hungry gleam in her eye. This hasn't endeared her to Milo. "Obviously, we need the locals onside. We'll never take the system otherwise. But we need results. We have an incredibly narrow window to act here, before Saturn's too far for us to do shit."
"We can't do that if we alienate the AIJ!" Milo says. "We need their numbers."
"Of course," Iris says, as if this is obvious. "We're not cutting them out entirely. We do need what they bring to the table, and they currently are the ones with control of the Grangier girl. What we're asking is for you to reconsider who the USE's primary partner is in this endeavor."
For the first time, the second Guard officer speaks. "And you'd work with us if we pushed the Holy Empire out? We wouldn't be back to square one?" Guard Lieutenant Mosi North frowns in plain mistrust. It's still a little strange to Milo, seeing her here like this. He still remembers her as she'd been the first time they'd met face to face -- a terrified prisoner of war, freshly taken from her half-destroyed mecha and brought aboard the Titanium Rose. Now here she is, quietly representing the interests of the Lady-High-Commander herself.
Princess Daystar certainly does like to find a use for broken and discarded things, Milo supposes.
"The people of Jupiter will not go meekly back into the Imperial fold," Iris says. "But... if your lady can guarantee us a real degree of self determination, the Shields of Jupiter are open to compromises."
Milo can see that the Guard officers, at least, are at risk of being persuaded. And here he is as usual, holding the bag and caught in the middle of it all. The story of his career in the SRI. This is what he gets for agreeing to try and wrangle a bunch of pro-democracy extremists.
/////PoCS\\\\\
Tanner Station Space Port
It feels strangely good to be in your pilot suit again, despite what happened the last time you wore it. It gives you a sense of purpose — you're a pilot, that's what you're here to do. No more recovery time or makework light security postings.
You push yourself at against the flow of human traffic in the spaceport shaft, drifting past maintenance workers and administrators and fellow pilots, heading for a dimmer, less often travelled corner of the place.
As soon as you bring yourself to a stop by the hatch you're looking for, you send a ping on your comm unit to say you're here. Then you rap a fist loudly and incessantly against the sealed hatch anyway. Wholly unnecessary, but as always, you have a reputation to consider. And if they're irritated by the noise, whatever underling is going to get saddled with walking you through all this might avoid taking their time.
The hatch hisses open, revealing none other than Peter Kassmeyer, chief mechanic for the station, looking distinctly annoyed to see you. "Must you be like this?" he growls.
You're actually faintly surprised and a little dismayed it's him and not a lackey you were antagonising... but it won't do to let him know that much. "Peter!" you say. "You look... great." He does not, in fact, look anything of the sort. There are heavy bags under his eyes, and his face is currently host to at least three days' worth of salt-and-pepper stubble. There are men his age who can make that look hot. Kassmeyer is definitely not one of them.
"Save it," Kassmeyer says, pulling himself around to move ahead of you down the shaft leading to the R&D hangars. "If this weren't a favour to Cam, I'd tell you to go fuck yourself."
Oh, right, that's why he looks so horrible. "Shit," you start, "look, I—"
"Save it," he says, repeating himself. "Just... try not to be yourself."
You fall silent as you follow him through a hatch at the end of the shaft — a large compartment filled with workstations is on the other side, adjoining the hangars. "Wait here," Kassmeyer says, going through the hatch to one of the hangars.
"Right, sure," you say, but he's already gone, and you're already completely sidetracked. There are two large windows set into different walls of the compartment. One of them gives you a very good view of why you're here in the first place, hanging suspended from a mecha cradle:
It's a Lancer, obviously — the shape and that simple, monocular main camera are utterly distinctive. But it's been bulked up — the cutter has been replaced with an anti-ship weapon, and additional reinforcement and bomb capacity have been added. As if to make up for this, though, is a large and strange looking thruster array. It looks surprisingly elegant, for something that should be so cobbled together.
You touch the piece of scrap metal hanging off your bracelet. Had Cam actually had time to design this, just for you? You swallow, fighting against a certain tightness in your throat, and winning out. Which is good, because it's around this point that you realise you're not alone in the compartment.
Maybe she made a slight noise, or her workstation whirred just a little louder than the air exchange. Or maybe you noticed by some sixth sense, and this is the dawning of your amazing psychic abilities. Either way, you turn around, and your eyes meet Tanaka Mari's, this time not separated by any kind of barrier. She shifts uncomfortably in the workstation's straps, apparently having been doing some task or another under the ostensible supervision of a nearby security officer.
"What are you doing here?" you ask.
Mari flinches, which is odd, given that you hadn't been particularly sharp or accusatory this time. "I'm..." there's a moment's hesitation, before she finishes weakly: "... cooperating?"
Something about the way she says that makes you narrow your eyes. "Are you."
"Leave her alone," the security officer says. "She's harmless."
You can't suppress a scoff at that, as visions of all the people she's killed flash through your head. "Oh, trust me, she's definitely not harmless."
Mari cringes again, and the guard gives you a look like you're being a vicious bully. "Without that thing, she is," he says, jerking a thumb at the window over his shoulder, the one showing the other mecha hangar. It's darkened, but just the sight of a familiar silhouette on the other side sends a chill down your spine. You're looking at the Carbon Steel — the monster that you last faced an eternity ago.
"She's not got access to it, though, right?" you ask. Mari pontedly avoids your gaze.
"Not without supervision," the guard says.
You don't like this. A deep sense of unease grips you from the very pit of your stomach. Before you can express as much to the guard, however, the hatch that Kassmeyer had just vanished through opens again, and he comes back into the compartment. You don't even let him open his mouth: "You're putting her in the prototype?" you ask, real urgency in your voice as you sail across the room at him.
Kassmeyer jerks back in mild alarm when you catch yourself on a handhold beside him. Once he processes what you're saying, he scowls. "We need her to access anything in its systems."
"Do you even have any real idea of what she's doing with it?" you ask. You know exactly enough about direct neural interfaces of the kind Jay uses to know that you have no idea how they work, and to also be deeply suspicious of anyone who doesn't actually use one claiming to have much more of a clue.
"We know what we're doing," Kassmeyer says.
"Do you, though?"
"I don't answer to you!" he reminds you. "Look, you're here to test pilot a mecha, not to tell me how to do my job. Kana, get in the fucking robot. Or leave."
One look at his face tells you that your sharpened rapier wit will serve you poorly in this particular situation. You swallow down the first ten things you'd like to say, and settle with: "Fine. But when this blows up in your face, you know I don't have the good grace not to say 'I told you so'." You drift past him through the hatch without waiting for any kind of reply, Mari's eyes on your back the entire way. He mutters something probably unkind, and follows you.
You're not so preoccupied that you don't feel a thrill of satisfaction as you go into the small hangar and see your new unit looming ahead of you. You drift across the space, catching yourself near its head, spending a self indulgent moment looking into its dull, inactive main camera. Before anyone can complain at you any further, you push yourself down toward the cockpit hatch, trying your pilot code to key it open: It works, and the armoured panel on the mecha's torso hisses open.
The cockpit you slip into is narrower than your Pennant's was, the technology unmistakably older. It's still yours, and a gift from a lost friend at that. Despite the danger you'll no doubt put yourself in while piloting this thing, it's a relief to know you won't need to stand idly by while your fellow pilots fight and die again.
"Run some basic tests and check the settings before you take it out," Kassmeyer says, having appeared on the other side of the open hatch as you strap yourself into the cockpit.
"Not my first space rodeo, Pete," you tell him.
"Oh, so I also don't have to tell you not to set off a bomb right in your own face? News to me."
"Oh, don't worry, everyone else has got that part covered. Try to keep up." You grin at him, and then jam your helmet onto your head. Blowing yourself up again would make your boyfriend sad — obviously you're not going to bring that up out loud as something that will sway your future decision making, though. Jay knows, and that's all that matters.
The systems all check out. As the novelty of being in a mecha cockpit again begins to wear off, Mari starts to creep back into your thoughts in a way you just can't shake. It gnaws away at you as you finish up, seal your cockpit, and prepare to actually take the Lancer custom out into space for a brief, pre-approved test flight.
You almost can't appreciate the details of its handling — which is a real shame, because Cam and Kassmeyer really outdid themselves. You're sure the age of the overall frame will cause problems here and there, but it accelerates at least as well as your Pennant if not a little better, and you won't have any problems with slowing down Azara and Kitty.
You're so consumed with the powerful feeling that this situation is another disaster waiting to happen that, by the time you get back to the station, you've already decided what you're going to do with this information.
Article:
This is bad — you're sure of it, and you know that Peter Kassmeyer won't be paying attention to your concerns, at least not as presented by you.
You can overcome that, though! You have people who will listen to you, you're sure. Who do you take this to?
[ ] Commander Bernard — straight to the top! You've... talked to him, at least
[ ] First Officer Booker — you think she's been warming up to you
[ ] Nazaret — they don't exactly have more authority than you, but unlike you, they're a people person
[ ] SRI Lieutenant Amani North — she owes you now, and she seems to have real expertise in encrypted comms
[ ] SRI Commander Milo Owusu — you have a rapport, you think, even though you still owe him from the last favour he did you
Okay, this is very likely to blow up, but it's even more likely to do so if Princess God decides to open her fucking mouth from which nothing but abuse spews forth.
I think we… I hate meta-voting.
But, okay. We need to find someone from these people, who:
1. Will not dismiss Kana's concerns out of hand, or else she comes up with something more reckless and skullduggerish than talking to people.
2. Actually has authority to look at the situation, promise to be careful, do so, and have Kana believe them.
3. Uh, no, I think that's all, to be fair, 2 is kinda a lot of things at once.
Amani and Owusu aren't even near our chain of command, so I'm not sure how they can convince anyone in it to pay attention. On the other hand, Amani quite probably is capable of finding out whether Mari sent any me-
You fucking know what. They are both trap options. Owusu is already scheming behind our backs with another group of borderline terrorists because our organization looks incompetent in comparison. Imagine how many flips he will do around his axis if he finds out we allow a captured pilot inside a captured mecha we know next to nothing about. It sounds even stupider when said aloud.
Bernard and Booker are our COs who, to put it mildly, somewhat dislike the shenanigans Kana takes up on her free time. Moreover, this is extremely likely to be dismissed as her just being a busybody unwilling to leave things alone, which she is, incidentally. And has already demonstrated by sniffing about the informant's identity.
[X] Nazaret
They can actually talk to people instead of snarking at them uncontrollably. They can also maybe make Kana calm her tits down about it somewhat. And they sound respectable, so if they raise concerns, people might listen, which isn't necessarily a good thing.
Just did a quick search, and this line stood out to me. Having someone higher up on our side would be much more useful than a fellow pilot, and demonstrates that we're following the proper command hierarchy.
[X] First Officer Booker — you think she's been warming up to you
Yeah...Kana rather distinctly sounds like she's a little too salty to be giving people a professional opinion on things, even if she wasn't inclined to snark 24/7. A few too many dings on the mood for it to be wise for her to go to anyone important about this.
[X] First Officer Booker — you think she's been warming up to you
Going to Bernard means bypassing our immediate superiors, Amari isn't in a position of authority, and Milo could probably figure something out but he's a spook and owing him another favor is a bad idea.
That leaves Nazaret and Booker. Nazaret could possibly convince Kassmeyer, but is not in a position of authority and if Kassmeyer figures out we sent him he'll probably look on his arguments unfavorably. Booker is in a position of authority, and while isn't a Kana fan we know IC that she is a careful woman who wouldn't want a prisoner around a mech.
