- Location
- Nova Scotia
- Pronouns
- She/Her
To be fair there are a lot of death flags from a lot of people, if that makes you feel better.
Petals of Titanium -- My Life as a Mecha Setting Bridge Bunny Quest
- Thread starter Gazetteer
- Start date
- Original Sci-Fi Users' Choice!
Voted best in category in the Users' Choice awards.
- Location
- In front of my computer
You're good at keeping them peppered throughout the text, just to account for whatever choices we make.
Mugenhakke
(Verified Clockwork)
- Location
- Hammerspace
[Whirrs nevously]
<Lurk modulus disengaged>
Well this is a fantastic time to have discovered this quest.
[Clank vrnnnn]
<Rengaging stealth functions>
// But all joking aside this is fantastic and I'm honestly really pleased with how well the story just flows. The characters are great and I love that they all seem real. This is just what I needed to fuel my sci-fi needs after binge reading The Last Angel and again you do really good work. Kind of sad I missed out on the vote but I'm looking forward to the next chapter.
Edit: I just noticed the previous post time. My bad for the accidental necro.
<Lurk modulus disengaged>
Well this is a fantastic time to have discovered this quest.
[Clank vrnnnn]
<Rengaging stealth functions>
// But all joking aside this is fantastic and I'm honestly really pleased with how well the story just flows. The characters are great and I love that they all seem real. This is just what I needed to fuel my sci-fi needs after binge reading The Last Angel and again you do really good work. Kind of sad I missed out on the vote but I'm looking forward to the next chapter.
Edit: I just noticed the previous post time. My bad for the accidental necro.
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cB557
voOOP
Eh, as long as you're not just going "update when" or somesuch there's little stigma against necros here.
Mugenhakke
(Verified Clockwork)
- Location
- Hammerspace
I know but I still should have checked the previous post date. I don't like it when others do it so I should at least apologize when I do the same. Anyway I love the story but would have PM'd the author if I had checked the date.
- Location
- Nova Scotia
- Pronouns
- She/Her
I'll level with you, giving the thread attention at all is increasing the chances of me making meaningful progress today.
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Mugenhakke
(Verified Clockwork)
- Location
- Hammerspace
Here are my guesses:
Arrive late: The Empress dies and Daystar claims the throne.
Lose mechs: One of three things:
Lori's new squad dies.
J6 dies.
Owusu dies.
Lose ships: the Captain dies.
Lose morale: Daystar dies.
- Location
- Nova Scotia
- Pronouns
- She/Her
Mugenhakke
(Verified Clockwork)
- Location
- Hammerspace
...Oh no.
Tayta Malikai
200% Space Whale
- Location
- Australia
You fool! What have you done?!
Update 039: Aftermath 5
- Location
- Nova Scotia
- Pronouns
- She/Her
Home stretch, gang.
Onboard the HDMS Lavender,
Flagship of the Divine Navy's forward raiding fleet,
Bridge
"Your orders are to focus fire on the enemy mecha."
"Ma'am, it's the ships that are killing us!"
"Did I ask for your tactical advice, Lieutenant?"
"No, ma'am. Sorry, ma'am."
Lady Chavez's fist is clenched so hard that something seems poised to physically break. On her scans and her displays, all is chaos and ruination. The raiding fleet -- her raiding fleet, that she kept almost intact for the months of this campaign, achieving nearly every objective admirably -- is being dismantled, ship by ship. Mecha by mecha. All on the whim of one woman. Crucially, that woman isn't Chavez. It's intolerable! She was meant for better than this.
"If I'm going to die, we're taking you all with us," Chavez snarls, glaring at the scan dots that represent the enemy fleet. She doesn't even flinch as the Flower class shudders under the impact of a railgun. All around the familiar, chevron-shaped bridge, her subordinates, all dressed in resplendent, Divine Navy white, work at a frantic pace to keep the Lavender alive while they carry out their mission.
"Shields failing!" her Active Defence officer cries.
They're all dying to cripple, not kill. And that galls, in a sense. But if her last gasp is to doom the wretches who are taking everything from her by decimating their mecha corps... maybe that's better than nothing.
"This is it, I fear, ma'am." One of the faces on her displays. One of her captains. Ivanov. His aging face is calm and resigned, everything that Chavez knows hers isn't, for all that the Amaranth is falling apart around him. She can't bring herself to stop hating him, despite that.
"It has been a pleasure," she tells him anyway.
"I very much doubt that, ma'am," Ivanov says, infuriatingly. "This is good--" And then he was gone, the Amaranth blown.
It's not very long before her own vessel is the target of similar efforts. "Choke on this, you quixotic fucks!" she screams, to the general alarm of her bridge staff. "I hope you--"
Onboard the HDMS Righteous Fury ,
Flagship of Lady Nakamura, Divine Navy Admiral,
CiC
"Admiral, we've lost the Lavender."
Lady Nakamura rolls one shoulder almost casually, her earlier fury having burned away to a more quiet intensity. "Ivanov was more of a loss," she says, bluntly.
"Admiral?"
"Spencer has command of the raiding fleet," Nakamura says. "What's left of it. Instruct him to continue blowing their mecha out of space."
"Yes, ma'am," a communications officer says from her workstation.
The entire ship shudders ominously. In the distance, what sounds horribly like explosions can be heard. The Fury was already damaged going into this. "The bridge reports we're taking serious hits, ma'am."
Nakamura barely registers who spoke. She'd hoped the flagship, crippled though it might be, would last longer than this. "I hope this pleases you, your Divine Majesty," she whispers. The admiral maintains this same air of uncharacteristic calm, orchestrating the battle as best she can, up until the end, when the cascade of hull ruptures holes the internal armouring around the CiC.
It is a genuine comfort to her that she dies far from alone.
Space, after the battle
Gloriana is alive, in that slightly giddy sense, where part of her thinks she really shouldn't be. She's been in more battles than some officers twice her age, some decidedly worse than this one -- almost a skirmish -- had been. Never before had she been in the position of fighting a wounded, numerically inferior enemy that had been so invested in crippling her force, rather than on achieving any kind of victory.
The fact that Gloriana's new squad pulled through this is an immense relief, but the losses that many of the other ships took to their mecha compliments were out of all proportion to what they should have been or what they could afford. Even now, Gloriana is flying a sweep to try and pick out any survivors. Most, from either side of the battle, have already been recovered. This is the last sweep they are being allowed before departure.
A hail blinks in front of Gloriana's eyes. Recognising who it is, she sighs, accepting irritably. "May I help you, Lieutenant-Commander?" she asks, her expression flat and unfriendly as she looks into the camera.
"Aw, still mad, Glory?" Milo Owusu's unit took a few glancing blows during the battle, but that's the extent of it. He smiles at her good-naturedly.
"Yes, I'm still angry," she says, face not softening in the slightest.
"That's a shame. Me, I'm just happy you're in one piece."
He actually sounds like he means it. The fact that part of Gloriana reciprocates it makes her hate him all the more, somehow. In that superficial way where you can not stand someone, while still being willing to risk life and limb for them. Milo is the closest thing she has to having something from home left to her.
"I don't know that there's anyone else to find," Milo says, after a moment of silence. "I would have liked to have found at least one. I spent most of this mopup time babysitting a group of surrendered pilots, before they could be hauled off."
Gloriana considers reminding him that comms are meant to be kept at a minimum, despite the futility of the operation. Instead, something makes her say: "Why now?"
"I'm sorry?"
Gloriana sighs quietly, circumventing a large piece of ship wreckage that, upon closer inspection, does not appear to have anything resembling life onboard. "What do you think made these ones surrender now? Why not back at Iapetus?"
Milo is silent for a moment or two, but he does eventually respond. "Back at Iapetus, when things turned bad, they were still fighting for something -- they were trying to survive and retreat. Here, all they were fighting for was to hurt us. That makes a difference to some people."
Gloriana doesn't reply. For some reason, she can't stop thinking about Mosi North.
Onboard the HIMS Titanium Rose
You snap the top off your COFFEE ONE CREAM pouch, feeling the sludge inside slowly warm against your palm. It's something familiar to concentrate on, a point of intense mediocrity amid a sea of stress and chaos. Whatever else is happening, COFFEE ONE CREAM achieves a consistency unmatched by even the actual drink that it is claiming to represent.
"You're North, right?"
You jerk up to see a figure drifting toward you wearing a pilot's uniform with sub-lieutenant insignia. He grabs the edge of the table, bringing himself to a stop. "Yes, sir," you tell him, watching Sub-lieutenant Sylva lever his broad-shouldered frame onto range of the straps opposite you. There is no shortage of places he could choose in the mess hall, only partially full as it is.
"I hope I'm not bothering you? I've barely gotten a chance to talk to anyone on this ship since I got reassigned," he says.
"I suppose Lady Perbeck has been keeping you all very busy, sir," you say, keeping any fond note for his commander out of your voice, if not out of your sentiments.
Sylva laughs softly. "Busy is one word for it. You've been with the ship a while, yeah? Is it just the battles lately, or has she always been like that?"
"Always," you confirm, the subtext of this exchange already becoming slightly uncomfortable. You're thrilled that she's alright, after that last battle, and the professionalism that prevents you from making that clearer to her has never felt more suffocating. "Lady Perbeck is very diligent and hardworking."
Sylva seems to digest this for a moment, snapping the tab off his own pouch of COFFEE TWO CREAM TWO SUGAR. "Very diplomatic, Ensign," he decides.
This annoys you. You try not to let it show enough for it to be suspicious. "I simply have a great deal of respect for her as an officer, sir. I think you're lucky to be working under her."
"She got us through that skirmish," he acknowledges. He takes a cautious sip from his drink pouch, before asking, with no preamble: "Are you afraid, Ensign? I'm terrified."
You try not to stare for a moment. This conversation was already uncomfortable enough before it took this turn. You have no idea how to respond to that, coming from a superior officer you barely know, even if he's one not directly in your chain of command. "Sir?"
He seems to realise some of this, and grimaces. "Apologies, North. I just... I feel like if I don't talk to someone I'm going to go crazy. Loboda's no help at all -- just keeps saying I'm stressing her out. The way that battle worked out... it's going to be bad."
You take a moment before you gather your thoughts enough to say, "We're lucky to have your squad still intact."
He looks a little pained at this. "Intact for how long? We have a battle at the other end of this trip, you know. A real battle, not a little skirmish dustup like that. Sure, we got off 'easy' -- we responded before they could do as much damage as they wanted, and this ship fared well, but we lost a lot of mecha. When we get to Titan, everyone else is going to have to try to pick up the slack, and we won't be able to. We're going to lose more mecha from being outnumbered. Or we're going to lose ships, for not being able to defend them. Or we're going to lose both -- everything. We can't all be in two or three places at once, you know."
You stare at him, blank-faced and deeply uncomfortable. "We all have our duty, sir."
"Says the bridge officer," he says, bleakly.
"If bridge officers are supposed to be able to breathe vacuum, I think I missed that course back in the academy."
He stares at you blankly, then he lets out a snort of laughter. "Is that your way of saying I should stop whining?"
"I would never say anything as insubordinate as that, sir," you say.
He laughs again, a little nervously, and you make an excuse a short while later. It wasn't a long encounter, all told -- but although you bury yourself in your duties afterward, you can't quite shake the bad taste of it. You're aware, as is everyone, that you might all be hurtling toward your deaths, but what the experienced pilot was implying brings it all more sharply into focus. You have precious little time left before then, in between your duties -- how do you spend it?
Your fleet's mecha forces are depleted and vulnerable. This will matter. Remember, this battle was always going to cost something you care about. What and how much are still up in the air, but this certainly narrows the consideration. You can't save everyone.
This is it, our final downtime vote. This time, it's really a misnomer. Time is short and you're crushingly busy. You have only a few stolen hours to yourself. You will get a scene with Gloriana regardless, but who else do you manage to have some kind of meaningful contact with, amid the mounting fear and barely controlled chaos of your approach?
You have three units of downtime. Choose enough options to spend all points of downtime. If your vote leaves unspent units, it will be ignored. Votes will be counted in blocks.
[ ] You speak with Captain Andre (one downtime)
[ ] You speak with First Officer Grayson (one downtime)
[ ] You speak with Guardswoman 1st Class J6 (one downtime)
[ ] You speak with Lieutenant Commander Owusu (one downtime)
[ ] You speak more with the ship's new pilots (one downtime)
[ ] You commit what time you can to recording a message for your family, just in case (one downtime)
The fleet is not meaningfully delayed, the fleet does not sustain a substantial loss to its force of ships, the fleet does not suffer a grievous blow to morale, 26 votes
The fleet is not meaningfully delayed, the fleet does not sustain a substantial loss to its force of mecha, the fleet does not suffer a grievous blow to morale, 21 votes
The fleet does not sustain a substantial loss to its force of ships, the fleet does not sustain a substantial loss to its force of mecha, the fleet does not suffer a grievous blow to morale, 10 votes
The fleet is not meaningfully delayed, the fleet does not sustain a substantial loss to its force of ships, the fleet does not sustain a substantial loss to its force of mecha, 5 votes
The fleet is not meaningfully delayed, the fleet does not sustain a substantial loss to its force of mecha, the fleet does not suffer a grievous blow to morale, 21 votes
The fleet does not sustain a substantial loss to its force of ships, the fleet does not sustain a substantial loss to its force of mecha, the fleet does not suffer a grievous blow to morale, 10 votes
The fleet is not meaningfully delayed, the fleet does not sustain a substantial loss to its force of ships, the fleet does not sustain a substantial loss to its force of mecha, 5 votes
Onboard the HDMS Lavender,
Flagship of the Divine Navy's forward raiding fleet,
Bridge
"Your orders are to focus fire on the enemy mecha."
"Ma'am, it's the ships that are killing us!"
"Did I ask for your tactical advice, Lieutenant?"
"No, ma'am. Sorry, ma'am."
Lady Chavez's fist is clenched so hard that something seems poised to physically break. On her scans and her displays, all is chaos and ruination. The raiding fleet -- her raiding fleet, that she kept almost intact for the months of this campaign, achieving nearly every objective admirably -- is being dismantled, ship by ship. Mecha by mecha. All on the whim of one woman. Crucially, that woman isn't Chavez. It's intolerable! She was meant for better than this.
"If I'm going to die, we're taking you all with us," Chavez snarls, glaring at the scan dots that represent the enemy fleet. She doesn't even flinch as the Flower class shudders under the impact of a railgun. All around the familiar, chevron-shaped bridge, her subordinates, all dressed in resplendent, Divine Navy white, work at a frantic pace to keep the Lavender alive while they carry out their mission.
"Shields failing!" her Active Defence officer cries.
They're all dying to cripple, not kill. And that galls, in a sense. But if her last gasp is to doom the wretches who are taking everything from her by decimating their mecha corps... maybe that's better than nothing.
"This is it, I fear, ma'am." One of the faces on her displays. One of her captains. Ivanov. His aging face is calm and resigned, everything that Chavez knows hers isn't, for all that the Amaranth is falling apart around him. She can't bring herself to stop hating him, despite that.
"It has been a pleasure," she tells him anyway.
"I very much doubt that, ma'am," Ivanov says, infuriatingly. "This is good--" And then he was gone, the Amaranth blown.
It's not very long before her own vessel is the target of similar efforts. "Choke on this, you quixotic fucks!" she screams, to the general alarm of her bridge staff. "I hope you--"
--
Onboard the HDMS Righteous Fury ,
Flagship of Lady Nakamura, Divine Navy Admiral,
CiC
"Admiral, we've lost the Lavender."
Lady Nakamura rolls one shoulder almost casually, her earlier fury having burned away to a more quiet intensity. "Ivanov was more of a loss," she says, bluntly.
"Admiral?"
"Spencer has command of the raiding fleet," Nakamura says. "What's left of it. Instruct him to continue blowing their mecha out of space."
"Yes, ma'am," a communications officer says from her workstation.
The entire ship shudders ominously. In the distance, what sounds horribly like explosions can be heard. The Fury was already damaged going into this. "The bridge reports we're taking serious hits, ma'am."
Nakamura barely registers who spoke. She'd hoped the flagship, crippled though it might be, would last longer than this. "I hope this pleases you, your Divine Majesty," she whispers. The admiral maintains this same air of uncharacteristic calm, orchestrating the battle as best she can, up until the end, when the cascade of hull ruptures holes the internal armouring around the CiC.
It is a genuine comfort to her that she dies far from alone.
--
Space, after the battle
Gloriana is alive, in that slightly giddy sense, where part of her thinks she really shouldn't be. She's been in more battles than some officers twice her age, some decidedly worse than this one -- almost a skirmish -- had been. Never before had she been in the position of fighting a wounded, numerically inferior enemy that had been so invested in crippling her force, rather than on achieving any kind of victory.
The fact that Gloriana's new squad pulled through this is an immense relief, but the losses that many of the other ships took to their mecha compliments were out of all proportion to what they should have been or what they could afford. Even now, Gloriana is flying a sweep to try and pick out any survivors. Most, from either side of the battle, have already been recovered. This is the last sweep they are being allowed before departure.
A hail blinks in front of Gloriana's eyes. Recognising who it is, she sighs, accepting irritably. "May I help you, Lieutenant-Commander?" she asks, her expression flat and unfriendly as she looks into the camera.
"Aw, still mad, Glory?" Milo Owusu's unit took a few glancing blows during the battle, but that's the extent of it. He smiles at her good-naturedly.
"Yes, I'm still angry," she says, face not softening in the slightest.
"That's a shame. Me, I'm just happy you're in one piece."
He actually sounds like he means it. The fact that part of Gloriana reciprocates it makes her hate him all the more, somehow. In that superficial way where you can not stand someone, while still being willing to risk life and limb for them. Milo is the closest thing she has to having something from home left to her.
"I don't know that there's anyone else to find," Milo says, after a moment of silence. "I would have liked to have found at least one. I spent most of this mopup time babysitting a group of surrendered pilots, before they could be hauled off."
Gloriana considers reminding him that comms are meant to be kept at a minimum, despite the futility of the operation. Instead, something makes her say: "Why now?"
"I'm sorry?"
Gloriana sighs quietly, circumventing a large piece of ship wreckage that, upon closer inspection, does not appear to have anything resembling life onboard. "What do you think made these ones surrender now? Why not back at Iapetus?"
Milo is silent for a moment or two, but he does eventually respond. "Back at Iapetus, when things turned bad, they were still fighting for something -- they were trying to survive and retreat. Here, all they were fighting for was to hurt us. That makes a difference to some people."
Gloriana doesn't reply. For some reason, she can't stop thinking about Mosi North.
--
Onboard the HIMS Titanium Rose
You snap the top off your COFFEE ONE CREAM pouch, feeling the sludge inside slowly warm against your palm. It's something familiar to concentrate on, a point of intense mediocrity amid a sea of stress and chaos. Whatever else is happening, COFFEE ONE CREAM achieves a consistency unmatched by even the actual drink that it is claiming to represent.
"You're North, right?"
You jerk up to see a figure drifting toward you wearing a pilot's uniform with sub-lieutenant insignia. He grabs the edge of the table, bringing himself to a stop. "Yes, sir," you tell him, watching Sub-lieutenant Sylva lever his broad-shouldered frame onto range of the straps opposite you. There is no shortage of places he could choose in the mess hall, only partially full as it is.
"I hope I'm not bothering you? I've barely gotten a chance to talk to anyone on this ship since I got reassigned," he says.
"I suppose Lady Perbeck has been keeping you all very busy, sir," you say, keeping any fond note for his commander out of your voice, if not out of your sentiments.
Sylva laughs softly. "Busy is one word for it. You've been with the ship a while, yeah? Is it just the battles lately, or has she always been like that?"
"Always," you confirm, the subtext of this exchange already becoming slightly uncomfortable. You're thrilled that she's alright, after that last battle, and the professionalism that prevents you from making that clearer to her has never felt more suffocating. "Lady Perbeck is very diligent and hardworking."
Sylva seems to digest this for a moment, snapping the tab off his own pouch of COFFEE TWO CREAM TWO SUGAR. "Very diplomatic, Ensign," he decides.
This annoys you. You try not to let it show enough for it to be suspicious. "I simply have a great deal of respect for her as an officer, sir. I think you're lucky to be working under her."
"She got us through that skirmish," he acknowledges. He takes a cautious sip from his drink pouch, before asking, with no preamble: "Are you afraid, Ensign? I'm terrified."
You try not to stare for a moment. This conversation was already uncomfortable enough before it took this turn. You have no idea how to respond to that, coming from a superior officer you barely know, even if he's one not directly in your chain of command. "Sir?"
He seems to realise some of this, and grimaces. "Apologies, North. I just... I feel like if I don't talk to someone I'm going to go crazy. Loboda's no help at all -- just keeps saying I'm stressing her out. The way that battle worked out... it's going to be bad."
You take a moment before you gather your thoughts enough to say, "We're lucky to have your squad still intact."
He looks a little pained at this. "Intact for how long? We have a battle at the other end of this trip, you know. A real battle, not a little skirmish dustup like that. Sure, we got off 'easy' -- we responded before they could do as much damage as they wanted, and this ship fared well, but we lost a lot of mecha. When we get to Titan, everyone else is going to have to try to pick up the slack, and we won't be able to. We're going to lose more mecha from being outnumbered. Or we're going to lose ships, for not being able to defend them. Or we're going to lose both -- everything. We can't all be in two or three places at once, you know."
You stare at him, blank-faced and deeply uncomfortable. "We all have our duty, sir."
"Says the bridge officer," he says, bleakly.
"If bridge officers are supposed to be able to breathe vacuum, I think I missed that course back in the academy."
He stares at you blankly, then he lets out a snort of laughter. "Is that your way of saying I should stop whining?"
"I would never say anything as insubordinate as that, sir," you say.
He laughs again, a little nervously, and you make an excuse a short while later. It wasn't a long encounter, all told -- but although you bury yourself in your duties afterward, you can't quite shake the bad taste of it. You're aware, as is everyone, that you might all be hurtling toward your deaths, but what the experienced pilot was implying brings it all more sharply into focus. You have precious little time left before then, in between your duties -- how do you spend it?
--
Your fleet's mecha forces are depleted and vulnerable. This will matter. Remember, this battle was always going to cost something you care about. What and how much are still up in the air, but this certainly narrows the consideration. You can't save everyone.
This is it, our final downtime vote. This time, it's really a misnomer. Time is short and you're crushingly busy. You have only a few stolen hours to yourself. You will get a scene with Gloriana regardless, but who else do you manage to have some kind of meaningful contact with, amid the mounting fear and barely controlled chaos of your approach?
You have three units of downtime. Choose enough options to spend all points of downtime. If your vote leaves unspent units, it will be ignored. Votes will be counted in blocks.
[ ] You speak with Captain Andre (one downtime)
[ ] You speak with First Officer Grayson (one downtime)
[ ] You speak with Guardswoman 1st Class J6 (one downtime)
[ ] You speak with Lieutenant Commander Owusu (one downtime)
[ ] You speak more with the ship's new pilots (one downtime)
[ ] You commit what time you can to recording a message for your family, just in case (one downtime)
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- Location
- Somewhere!
- Pronouns
- She/Her
[X] You commit what time you can to recording a message for your family, just in case (one downtime)
[X] You speak with Guardswoman 1st Class J6 (one downtime)
[X] You speak with Captain Andre (one downtime)
[X] You speak with Guardswoman 1st Class J6 (one downtime)
[X] You speak with Captain Andre (one downtime)
Mother Nyx
Mother of Elpis
- Location
- The Kei Klub
- Pronouns
- She/Her
Welcome back Gazetteer!
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[X] You speak with Captain Andre (one downtime)
[X] You speak with Guardswoman 1st Class J6 (one downtime)
[X] You commit what time you can to recording a message for your family, just in case (one downtime)
[X] You speak with Guardswoman 1st Class J6 (one downtime)
[X] You commit what time you can to recording a message for your family, just in case (one downtime)
Mother Nyx
Mother of Elpis
- Location
- The Kei Klub
- Pronouns
- She/Her
[X] You speak with Captain Andre (one downtime)
[X] You speak with Guardswoman 1st Class J6 (one downtime)
[X] You commit what time you can to recording a message for your family, just in case (one downtime)
[X] You speak with Guardswoman 1st Class J6 (one downtime)
[X] You commit what time you can to recording a message for your family, just in case (one downtime)
- Location
- New York
- Pronouns
- He/Him
[X] You speak more with the ship's new pilots (one downtime)
[X] You speak with Guardswoman 1st Class J6 (one downtime)
[X] You speak with Captain Andre (one downtime)
I'll take any bet that if we ever choose an option at the expense of the mecha again Glory dies.
[X] You speak with Guardswoman 1st Class J6 (one downtime)
[X] You speak with Captain Andre (one downtime)
I'll take any bet that if we ever choose an option at the expense of the mecha again Glory dies.
cB557
voOOP
Some typos. Can't figure out what that second sentence is saying.
Hmmm, I'm honestly not sure why the message for the family is so popular. Isn't that being awfully pessimistic? Unless North dies, they'll never see it.
EternalObserver
eYe Gaze baCk
- Location
- The Void
[X] You speak with Guardswoman 1st Class J6 (one downtime)
[X] You speak with Lieutenant Commander Owusu (one downtime)
[X] You commit what time you can to recording a message for your family, just in case (one downtime)
[X] You speak with Lieutenant Commander Owusu (one downtime)
[X] You commit what time you can to recording a message for your family, just in case (one downtime)