Petals of Carbon Steel -- You're a Pilot, Not an Ace. Try your best.
- Thread starter Gazetteer
- Start date
- Original Sci-Fi
- Location
- Nova Scotia
- Pronouns
- She/Her
Okay, several hours late to doing this, but I'm calling it here. Tallying is a mess because of how I handled it this time, but the winning combination of votes for the Pick Three List was:
Try to set Azara up with Kitty
Have a talk with Jay about his family
Check on Cam, she seems rattled
The winning item from the Pick One List was "try to gather information on your mysterious source."
Try to set Azara up with Kitty
Have a talk with Jay about his family
Check on Cam, she seems rattled
The winning item from the Pick One List was "try to gather information on your mysterious source."
Omegahugger
Inattentive Idiot
Yay, we get to play shipwright!
- Location
- Nova Scotia
- Pronouns
- She/Her
To clarify, when I said that Naz's role was similar to both Anja's and Mazlo's, I actually meant in terms of their shipboard responsibilities. Nazaret is the Esther Strova's communications officer, and also coordinates with the mecha squad in combat the same way Anja did as mecha control officer for the Titanium Rose.
With her promotion, Anja's actually got a pretty similar job to what Mazlo had in Petals of Titanium, although she's on a bigger ship now and is therefore still working under someone else.
Understood, I am just playing up the relevance to/of Mazlo, because Mazlo. I apologise if my nonsequitur exaggerations have mislead anyone, as that would honestly be my fault.[/trying to be literal on the internet but worried I sound sarcastic and just digging the proverbial hole deeper with everything I do]
- Location
- Nova Scotia
- Pronouns
- She/Her
No worries, I just thought you might have the wrong idea, you're not doing anything wrong.
Update 008: Snooping
- Location
- Nova Scotia
- Pronouns
- She/Her
Try to set Azara up with Kitty, Have a talk with Jay about his family, Check on Cam, she seems rattled
Gather information on the mysterious source that's apparently led you astray:
Gather information on the mysterious source that's apparently led you astray:
You have a longstanding policy re: situations where things have obviously spiralled out of your control. Specifically, you focus on the things you can control. Of course there's absolutely no reason, then, why you shouldn't try to control the people around you. Just a little. For their own good.
Kitty, predictably, is in the exercise module. "Knock-knock," you say, after she fails to notice you floating nearby.
Kitty pauses in the middle of her crunches to look up at you. "Kana," she says, before going back to it. It's a small space — stepping and resistance machines for maintaining muscle mass in zero gravity dominate much of it, as well as an area set aside for exercise of the more manual kind, such as what she's doing. Crunches, of course, are normally fairly trivial when you weigh literally nothing, requiring the use of resistant straps to get anywhere.
"That looks painful, with your injuries," you note.
"No shit," Kitty says. "I'll never heal if I let myself go completely."
"If you say so, Dr. Wehrschmidt," you say. "I get it, though. Azara's into the sporty type."
That makes her stop up short. "When I said that stuff about her eyes earlier," Kitty says, "I was half-delirious. And in shock."
"Uh-huh."
"So... you should probably just forget about it," she continues, as if this is a basic concept you're failing to grasp.
"Unfortunately," you say, "I do not have it in me to ignore two grown women dancing around each other like thirteen year olds with their first crush, now that I've been made aware of it."
"Are you serious right now?" Kitty groans.
"Deadly," you say, tone grave.
"We're fighting a war, Kana," Kitty says, undoing the exercise straps. "We have to work with each other. Is this really the time?"
You wave a hand dismissively. "When's a better time?" you ask. "When you're both dead?"
Kitty flinches. "Don't joke about that, right now. She came damn close. We both did!"
"I'm not joking," you say. "We all lost people. She's beat to shit worse than you are. Next time, one of you might not be so lucky — do you really want to spend years after the fact thinking about how you never even tried when you had the chance?"
Kitty pushes a strand of blonde hair out of her face, where it's become plastered to her forehead. "We only fucked the one time, you know," she says. "How do you even know she's interested in anything else?"
You grin. "Oh, believe me — I've got a pretty good feeling. You should go find her and play one of those stupid gambling games pretending to be puzzles she likes so much. The ones that give her an excuse to take someone else's money."
"I'm terrible at those," Kitty admits. "I just lose every time."
"That helps explain why she's interested in the first place, then."
Kitty actually laughs at that, although it has a little bit of a resentful quality to it. "Fine. It's your fault if this blows up in our faces," she warns, heading for the showers.
"That would be a problem, if I had a functioning sense of shame," you say, smirking after her.
It's some hours before you know whether or not your efforts bear fruit.
"Hey, Pirate." Azara's grin, as she floats to a stop next to the alcove you're occupying in the mess module, is a little lopsided. You wonder if that's just a consequence of her wounds not being healed yet, or if that's going to be permanent.
"You're in a good mood," you say.
"Well, I mean, most stuff still sucks," Azara admits. "Lots. Some things might be working out, though."
"Not this meal," you say, staring down at the half-eaten meal bar in your hand. Someone in another alcove laughs bitterly. Azara only grins again, and pushes herself down into the spot across from you.
"Are you sure you can keep calling me that, by the way?" you ask.
She blinks. "What, 'Pirate'? Why would I ever stop?"
"You're the one with the eyepatch, now," you point out.
"It's a bandage," Azara says, truthfully.
"Oh, right. Like you're not going to start wearing one the moment that comes off," you say, gesturing with the cereal bar.
"Well, okay, maybe." Azara pauses. "Probably. Alright, definitely, but, like... some women find that kind of thing hot, you know."
"I'll take your word for it," you say.
Her grin turns a little self-satisfied. "I don't think I'll need any extra luck, on this subject," she says. "So... maybe you should hang onto that, for yourself."
"... and what is that supposed to mean?" you demand.
"Come on, Pirate, when's the last time you actually got laid?" She reaches over and prods you in the shoulder.
"I," you say, primly, "have absolutely no trouble in that area. When I wish to pursue such things."
"Right, sure," Azara says, consolingly.
Next time, she can solve her own romantic problems, dammit.
/////PoCS\\\\\
"So, you've seriously been sober every day of your life, huh?"
"I've been drugged plenty." Jay doesn't look up or betray even a hint of surprise. "Alcohol, though, no. Or anything like recreational drug use." He's curled up in the corner of the pilot's recreation room — much emptier now than it had been during your informal memorial service. Glancing over his shoulder, you see that he's sketching away with a stylus. The screen contains what looks like an in-gravity coffee cup, an apple, and, you recognise with a pang, Commander Sails's smiling face.
"Drawing's how I process," he says, before you can ask.
Well, he can't drink. So... to each his own. "There are worse ways," you say.
"What, like poking your nose into everyone's business?" Jay asks.
"Only the interesting people," you say, careful not to let him know he's scored a point.
He makes a slight, amused sound, still not looking up from his work. So it surprises you when he asks: "Where did that charm come from?"
You look down at your wrist, noting the familiar, faded colours of the tiny model of Ganymede tethered there. "I've had it for years," you say. Usually, you put it back in your Pennant before climbing out. But you forgot this time, with everything else going on, and you've been wearing it ever since. "My older brother gave it to me when I was a kid," you add. "Good luck charm."
"Hm. Must be nice, having something from him," Jay says.
"I... guess." You give up the pretence of just passing through, and strap yourself into the spot beside him. "You don't have much from yours?" He's mentioned his siblings briefly before, but never in detail, to you.
"We didn't have much chance to trade momentos, at the end. Me and my sisters were all pulled in different directions after we got 'rescued'. Then there was a civil war."
You gather that by 'sisters', Jay means other victims of the J-Project. You're not sure if he had blood relatives among the other children, or if it had been a bond forged during captivity. "How many sisters do you have?"
He looks up at you for the first time. His expression is as neutral as it usually is. "I was Subject Twenty-One out of Thirty-Two," he says. "They were all my sisters. Even the ones who died early — they were ours, for a little bit, and we don't forget them. We were all they had."
You frown, considering that. "So... the project used thirty-one girls, and you?"
"Yes," he says, flatly.
"Did they... what, make a mistake when they picked you?" you ask, still confused.
Jay considers that for a moment. Then, as suddenly as it always comes with him, he lets out a barking laugh, face barely changing with the mirth. "That's... a good way to describe it, actually. Yeah, there was a mistake when they picked me."
The way he says it, it's like there's a punchline that's going over your head. Something you're missing. Something obvious.
Oh.
"So," you say, "are they the only family you have?"
"The only family I can remember," he says. "Any of us, mostly. The drugs and the early conditioning, you know. Everything before the project is just... gone."
"Why?" You can't keep the disgust from your voice. You're not a good person, and you never claim to be. But there are lines. "Why would they do that?"
"They wanted blank slates," he says. "Not kids, really. Instead, all they managed was to make one blank slate and a whole bunch of damaged kids." He gets a slightly distant look in his eye."Maybe not even really one. They messed Six up bad, to the point where... talking to her, it was like there was just nothing behind her eyes. Their own personal little wind-up toy soldier-girl. But... she was in there still, we liked to think." He actually frowns visibly.
"Regrets?"
"I just wish I'd told her that I knew that," Jay says. "That we never just wrote her off. I didn't think to, back when I had the chance."
"Is she still around?" you ask.
"Should be," he says. "Her health problems weren't as bad as some of the others. I just have no idea where she ended up."
"You can still get the chance to tell her, then," you offer.
"... Yeah." The thought seems to cheer him up. At least, the frown goes away. "Maybe."
/////PoCS\\\\\
"Lý, you're dead on your feet. Metaphorically. Go get some rest."
"You haven't slept either!" Cam says, irritated. "Don't act like you can't use the help."
"I didn't fight in that skirmish," Yorke says. "Have you even taken a break, other than that little drinking session?" He's stopped Cam at a bay of supply cabinets, one calloused hand holding a drawer shut to prevent her from opening it.
"I can't just do nothing," she mutters.
You're floating at the edge of the hangar module, watching the repairs go on. The place is still a hive of activity. Of particular note, Commander Sails' Pennant is half-stripped down for parts to fix the others. It's a saddening sight, and you're almost relieved seeing an opportunity to distract yourself from it, even with something like this.
"And I can't just watch you kill yourself — or someone else — working with tools in this condition," Yorke shoots back.
"Come on, Cam," you say, drifting over. "Sleep's not doing nothing. It's sleep." Yorke gives you an appraising look, like this is the first useful thing you've ever done in your entire life.
Cam shakes her head. "Kana, listen, I don't need—"
Ignoring her protestations, you swoop in, putting an arm around her shoulders and tugging her toward the module's main hatch, away from the noisy bustle of the repair work. She tenses briefly, as if intending to argue, then lets herself go.
"The next time we have to go out there, I don't want to do it with someone who's half-dead from lack of sleep," you tell her. "Honestly, Cam, you look like shit."
At this, Cam does catch herself on the edge of the module's hatch, turning to glare at you. "Everytime I close my eyes, I just see them all dying again."
"Well, that makes sense," you say. "It was pretty fucking horrible. You still need to sleep, Cam."
"Right." She deflates noticeably. Not reassured, so much as unable to muster an argument at the moment. Slowing down even for this long seems to have made the fatigue catch up to her all at once, coming down in a crushing wave. Just as planned.
"Is this your first time losing someone in a fight?" you ask, looking her over. Cam's younger than you are, and you know she's not from a military background, or even anything like the life of violence you chose for yourself. She's obviously taking this harder than everyone else.
"No," Cam says. "I'm just... it was so fast. Everything was fine, then it wasn't!"
"Yeah," you admit. "It was bad. Felt like being back with my old crew that last time, when the Divine Navy hit us out of nowhere — Banners against modified civilian models. It was just me and one other pilot left standing at the end of that."
Cam grimaces. "How many of you were there to begin with?"
"Six," you say. "And the one who lived other than me, I didn't even like."
Cam blinks. "You didn't?"
"Well, he stole my boyfriend once," you say. Then think. "Or, not my boyfriend, I guess, but..." you shrug. "Point is — real jerk. Just the worst. Trust me on this, alright?"
"... right." Cam looks a little dubious. "You really can't be nice without also being kind of horrible to make up for it, can you?"
You sigh. "Go sleep, Lý. You're being ridiculous."
"Fine, I'll try." She starts to drift away with an obvious yawn, tossing a backwards wave over her shoulder as she goes. "Thanks, Kana."
/////PoCS\\\\\
"Himegami. What are you doing?"
Well, shit. "First Officer Booker!" you exclaim. "You're looking lovely today."
"Himegami."
"I'm serious! Trying out a new moisturiser? Can I borrow some? Mine hasn't been working out."
Booker growls — actually growls! — and seizes you by the collar, hauling you away from the workstation. "This is my private workstation."
"Oh, is it? I— ow!" Her grip tightens painfully. "Fine, fine, fine, yes, I knew it was yours!"
She loosens her hold, but doesn't let you go yet, her eyes boring into yours. "Why?"
The two of you are in the 'neck' between the Esther Strova's bridge and its main shaft. You'd thought you'd have a moment or two alone — Naz told you Booker was busy elsewhere, they'd also warned you that they couldn't be sure of how long that would stay the case. Apparently, this long.
"Well," you begin, finally jerking out of her grasp. You're still in the workstation alcove, with Booker between you and freedom. "We flew into a suicide mission that was supposed to be a cakewalk. One our 'special liaison' from the SRI advised against strenuously. A third of us are dead. Now, no one will tell us anything. So, I'm fixing that."
Booker's stare doesn't soften. "Haven't you heard of operational security?" she demands.
"Oh, no," you say. "I guess I'm just an uneducated pirate — you'll have to explain your big words to me, slowly."
"Does being this much of a smartass ever actually work out for you, Himegami?" Booker asks.
"Rarely," you admit. "But alas, I am incurable."
"I can think of a few cures," she says, with a dark look that makes you think at least one of them involves an airlock malfunction — you're used to that.
"What's the deal with this secret source of yours on Ganymede?" you ask.
As planned, you take her off guard. "Who told you where they were based?" she snaps, eyes darting to the workstation, which you visibly hadn't had time to crack yet.
"I guessed," you say. "They're operating out of the Galilean Moons. One of those is Io, though, so you can rule that out almost conclusively. Europa is a backwater where nothing important ever happens. Callisto's a warzone — too obvious. So, Ganymede. Maybe that's my hometown bias talking, being Trojan born and bred but, you very helpfully just confirmed for me. Thank you!"
Booker groans. "This is serious. Things went bad this time—"
"An understatement," you interject.
"Things went bad this time, but this source has come through before in a major way, and her position is very precarious if she's ever even partially compromised. So it's better for everyone if as few people know who she is as possible."
You look at Booker sidelong. "'She', huh? And... hm. 'Position'.How high up are we talking, here?"
"I can't tell you that," Booker says.
"Military?" you ask.
"Himegami."
"Not military, then? That's interesting!"
"Himegami."
"Not military, but highly placed on Ganymede..." you stroke your chin thoughtfully. "Close to the Governor, maybe? That would certainly be precarious. Duchess Grangier isn't a woman who you—"
"Enough!" Booker glares at you in a way that tells you you've pushed your luck as far as is wise today. You shut up. "Don't ever let me catch you doing this again," she says, the threat in her voice decidedly more than merely figurative, this time.
"Aye aye, ma'am," you say, complete with a mockingly crisp salute. She doesn't even punch you for that, which is as much a victory as anything. It's enough of a near thing, though, that you leave in a hurry.
/////PoCS\\\\\
There's something morbid about this — about being back in this same briefing room, a third of the workstations empty. A quick glance around at the bowed heads and hunched shoulders of your fellow pilots tells you that everyone else is feeling this as well.
In another change, this time Jay is here, strapped into his workstation, watching the front of the room intently. Instead of Commander Sails's familiar presence at the front of the room, it's broad, bearded Captain Leski. Something about his bearing is a little awkward, as if he senses that he's floating in someone else's place, his very presence a reminder that she's gone forever. Beside him is the smaller, slighter figure of Milo Owusu.
"First order of business," Leski says. "We're re-organising the squads." Unsurprising, given that you're down by a third of your original strength. "Wehrschmidt, Ross, you're both promoted." Kitty blinks, surprised. By contrast, Ryan nods, as if he expected this. The captain isn't done. "We're also splitting up Squad A."
Neither Kitty nor Jay seem happy with the idea, but they don't argue. "Yeah, I guess that makes sense," Jay says. "I'm with Squad C, now?" It will be hard for the Lancers to keep up with him even so well as the Pennants in Squad A ever did. You'll all have to make it work.
"Got it in one," Leski says. "Wehrschmidt, you're running Squad B."
Kitty glances over to you and Azara. Who waves back at her, grinning. Oh no. What have you done? You've become a third wheel in your own squad!
"Congratulations, both of you," Leski continues. "I hope you'll excuse the lack of ceremony, under the circumstances, but I'll get straight to the point. I'm sure you've noticed that we've changed course. There's a reason for that."
"Very reassuring, sir!" Azara chirps.
"Shut up, Black." Leski brings up a map of Jupiter on each of your displays. A trajectory is mapped out between two highlighted points — the first is labelled "Battlefield", the second "Ivan 5", which you know to be a minor, Holy Empire-loyal shipyard. "The False-Verdant made an emergency course correction, and they're beat to shit. We know where they're headed and we're faster than them. Even with the head start, we can catch up and finish this."
You all stare at him uneasily. "Sir," you say, "We're beat to shit." The rest of the pilots around you murmur in agreement.
"Well, yes," says Owusu. "Rather thoroughly. But, that's where I come in, to save the day." Jay rolls his eyes, but continues to listen intently as Owusu goes on. "The SRI has other personnel in the Jupiter System. And, luck would have it... one of our ships is nearby."
"... as luck would have it," you deadpan. Kitty stifles a derisive laugh.
"Well, no. It's because I never trusted the intelligence behind this operation, and arranged it ahead of time. Feel free to praise my brilliance and/or paranoia later, when we've met with them on the way and depart again, resupplied and reinforced." Owusu's smile is incredibly self-satisfied. "We're meeting them here."
A third point appears on your displays, roughly on the way between the Esther Strova's current position, and Ivan 5: Brightwood Colony.
"Wasn't that rendered uninhabitable during the war?" Ryan asks.
"There's a bit of wiggle room between 'unfit to house a large civilian population' and 'unable to exist onboard'," Owusu says. "The Ivy is only making a stop-over and waiting for us. We should still both be able to dock safely — it'll make ferrying over supplies a lot quicker, that way."
He's right. Brightwood's life support systems were damaged, but never to the point that they failed completely — it's been maintained piecemeal as a stopover point for disreputable groups for years, and you know it of old. There's one problem with this plan — you also know who else frequently uses this place.
/////PoCS\\\\\
Article: Which dangerous group uses Brightwood Colony?
[ ] Freedom's Vanguard
Pirates posing as rebels. They were largely destroyed years ago, but what remains of them still operates out of this territory.
[ ] Yao-Ashford Company
A shady mercenary company with a bad reputation and a tendency to cash in on HSE bounties.
[ ] Ohara's Wolves
Small-time pirates, headed by someone you used to run with, until he proved vicious enough that your old crew kicked them out.
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- Location
- New York
- Pronouns
- He/Him
[X] Ohara's Wolves
Everyone can blame Kana when this goes wrong!
Everyone can blame Kana when this goes wrong!
- Location
- Somewhere else
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Tayta Malikai
200% Space Whale
- Location
- Australia
Oh my god, that update was gold. Kana finally got to unleash her conniving pirate ways after the cast of filler characters was thinned out. The quarantine life is doing good things for your writing.
I'll have to come back and vote after I've thought about all the options properly.
Dangit, stop teasing us like this
This is a very impressive display of skill on the part of our clever and conniving protagonist.
I really liked this part. It feels like it wasn't so long ago that everything was going to be just fine.
Alas, for all our talents, we are to be resigned to background status again.
I'll have to come back and vote after I've thought about all the options properly.
- Location
- Earth
[X] Ohara's Wolves
- Location
- USA
- Pronouns
- He/Him
[x] Ohara's Wolves
What's this? Backstory interaction? Oh myyyy
What's this? Backstory interaction? Oh myyyy
DracoDracul
Transbian Communist
- Location
- Austin
- Pronouns
- She/They
[X] Freedom's Vanguard
[x] Yao-Ashford Company
I feel as though we will be dealing with them sooner or later. I would prefer sooner.
I feel as though we will be dealing with them sooner or later. I would prefer sooner.
NeonLights
Formerly Reliable_2IC
- Location
- In shambles
[X] Yao-Ashford Company
- Location
- Ohio
Insert incoherent sad noises here.
After recovering: There's some of those feels I come here for!
Hmmm.
I think I'll hold of on voteing for now, gonna wait to read and ponder over the discussion.
- Location
- United States
[X] Ohara's Wolves
- Location
- alphen aan den rijn
[x] Freedom's Vanguard
would not mind some semi like minded "ally`s" right now
would not mind some semi like minded "ally`s" right now
[X] Ohara's Wolves
Maximum hilarity it is!
Maximum hilarity it is!