mcd900

Laniva grumbled - only slightly - as Syta continued to cling to her briefly before getting up. She stretched, also sitting up, then swung her legs over the side of the bed, glancing towards the corner of her room. Her armor still lay there in a disorganized heap, and she grimaced slightly, realizing how tired (and then, promptly too occupied) to set things back in place she'd been. "Oh... um, it's going to be a while for me to get all my armor on... I don't want to keep you waiting for me. Er, I mean... I don't mind if you do, either, just... figure I should probably tell you." Her ears flicked about gently; they'd fallen asleep with Syta petting them, still, and they were mildly flattened.

As the pilots settled in - both with one another, and with their machines in the hangar - the maintenance techs hurried about, finally finishing their rushed preparations as the voice of the XO came over the comms channel in each cockpit. "All pilots, this is the bridge. The simulation will be commencing shortly. I expect each of you to treat this as a true engagement with lives on the line - that of your own, and your allies beside you. And be prepared for anything." The viewscreens in each cockpit (and, in Markus' case, the entire cockpit bubble) faded to static, then formed into the inky black of space, dotted with shining stars. In the distance loomed a colony, gently rotating to simulate gravity within; and an asteroid belt, composed of both stone and debris from many a battle before between. The more perceptive amongst the crew might have seen the faint lights of distant engines scattered around... Alrenne leaned over the bridge's tactical console, waiting, snapping a brief but crisp salute to Sia as she reentered the bridge. "Captain. The sim battle is ready to start as soon as you're prepared." The holoprojector on the tactical console stirred to life, displaying the field. Map 1 begins!

"Mrrh!" Hugged tighter, Laniva let out a bit of a noise, not expecting it. "Mm... y-yeah. I... it's a bit late, isn't it...? I usually wake up earlier, but I guess I was really tired..." And really comfortable... She wiggled a bit in the hug, though after a moment she stopped, not trying to force her way out of it... it was a bit too comfortable to want to do that. "Let's get up... the others are probably wondering where we are. I don't want them to go looking for us or anything..."

Laniva woke slowly; she didn't quite have an idea of the time, but she got the sense it was rather later than she'd usually wake up given what seemed to be the sound of voices and motion around the inn. It was also rather... warm. She laid there, eyes closed for a long moment, trying to remember what had gone on last night... Knight of Kansei, Knight of Gaia ...no, that didn't quite explain it. Yes, she'd been tired, but something about things didn't quite line up. She'd woken up late because... well, she felt rather well-rested, for one, so some of it had been her fatigue, so that didn't explain the warmth. Her eyes blinked open, slowly, and found Syta, blushing at the sight. The warmth... well, that question was rather obviously answered, now, especially given they looked to still be in the remnants of what had been a hug last night. Pets for Cats It had been an unusual day and night, both; but honestly, it hadn't ended badly at all. Comfortably, to say the least. "Mmnh... Morning, Syta..."

As the pilots made their way to the hangar at their respective leisures - some with more haste and enthusiasm than others - they found the ship's hangar HEXes and fighters neatly arrayed about its space. The large airlock at the far end exiting towards the ship's starboard side was locked tightly shut, the elevators to carry machines to the top and bottom side launch bays were at rest. There was, however, no calm to be found within the section, the hustle and bustle within the room being about as much was expected of a usual launch, and the maintenance crew hurried around; but in the place of armaments, armor, and tools, they carried large cables to connect each HEX (and the single spacefighter) to the ship's datalink, preparing for the simulation battle to come. The best environment for simulation was, of course, the machines themselves. The firmware of each and every one came from from their factory loaded with sufficient training programs to guide cadets from zero to combat-ready over the course of their training period, and was more than capable of handling such a battle. The sole exception would be their captain; she would be upon the bridge once the exercise began. The closest entrance to the hangar from the briefing room exited out onto a balcony overlooking the hangar, with elevators towards the far sides. Those who found themselves taking detours had other options, though; a larger cargo door towards the ground level, and other maintenance corridors scattered all around for those who were more savvy with shipboard layouts. One particularly eager-looking member of the maintenance crew waved and yelled from across the room as some of them began to file in. "Hey! We haven't met yet, so I figure you must be the pilots. About damn time you showed up. Look, we're not ready to start yet - we'll be ready by the end of the hour - but you can go ahead and get in your cockpits. Do whatever your pre-battle routine is, I don't know, I'm not a pilot. We'll give you the signal when it's time." She was hefting the end of one of the datacables towards the Phalanx at the far side of the hangar; the relatively diminutive fighter stood out amongst the standing HEXes; racks of its missiles were arrayed on heavy-duty shelving, while most of the rifles and other equipment for the HEXes was mounted on the walls. The large block lettering on the back of her jumpsuit read "CIA", and as she finished her explanation she quickly set back about her work with the rest of the crew, quite occupied on their immediate tasking.

Laniva felt the voice - voices? - all at once, speaking, the the moment passing quickly despite the length of the message, finally fading back into reality only to see the blade glowing bright, her hand on it - when had that happened? She blinked, releasing the blade, taking a step back, having been totally lost to the questioning words of Tio and the Lady Celine; a shiver ran through her body, trying to comprehend what she'd just heard, or was it that she'd felt? She glanced around, realizing the gazes of several were suddenly on her - not for any undue reason, admittedly, but she felt the pressure of them nonetheless - and shivered slightly. "I-I... w-what just happened...? I was just over there a moment ago, a-and then the blade... it was... calling out to me?" She looked at her hand; by any measure she could know, it seemed perfectly normal, distinctly still attached, unblemished bar the marks and stresses of their previous battle. "It wanted me to... take it back, someplace. And awaken 'Gaia'..."

Laniva let herself be dragged along to the growing group of people, including but not limited to the Lady Celine. As Syta stepped past her to whisper to Celine, she felt a whisper of her own. There was... a pull, to the blade in Celine's hands, the Escaflowne... Her tail flicked back and forth from side to side, finding it difficult to resist as she had earlier across the mountain with the blade so much closer, in view now, and with the battle's fatigue weighing on her. Now free of Syta's grasp, she approached Celine on her own, slowly; not to listen in to their hushed conversation, but slowly extending a hand towards the blade, almost unconsciously. By no means did she rush to grab the blade as Alvira had earlier; her mind almost drawing blank as the drone of the whisper echoed on in her mind, her vision narrowing upon the sword...

June 23rd, 2174. Aboard the Imminent Dawn, Pilot Briefing Room, First Day Underway. "...and as such, I've taken the initiative to organize a simulated battle for our new complement of pilots. You've all had a couple days to settle in before we left Earth, so now's the time. The crew of the Dawn is preparing the simulators at present, and they will be ready by 1100 - one hour from now - when the battle will begin. To give you some brief details, the battle will be taking place in space amongst the rubble of a destroyed colony near L7. Your enemies will be a mixed force." The dry voice of the XO, Lt. Cmdr. Alrenne floated across the room, falling upon the ears of the Imminent Dawn's captain and its newly assigned pilots, a rather colorful assortment of skilled pilots both old and new. The light of the holographic briefing table lit the room a pale blue. "That's all I have for you. I know it's a short briefing, but I will be clear with you. This exercise is intended to test your reactions under duress, your abilities to cooperate and fight alongside one another, and identify the strengths and weaknesses of our group so as to best plan for the future. Captain Silverwind - if you have any words for our new pilots, now would be an excellent time. Afterwards, you are all dismissed. Use your best judgment to decide when to report to the hangars; I will be personally taking note of any latecomers." He stepped back, making room at the head of the briefing table.

The year is 2174. The late 2000s and early 2100s were a time of tumultuous international conflict; only after almost fifty consecutive years of war, dotted with the barest of tentative peaces, did the governments of Earth come together to form the Council of Earth Nations - CEN. With a permanent core formed of one representative from each of Earth's twelve most powerful governments - frequently referred to as the Illustrious Twelve for their leading roles in unifying the Earth - to lead the organization, CEN has guided humanity towards prosperity since its founding in 2134. Humanity has prospered in this era of newfound peace. Resource conflicts on Earth are a distant memory; human ills - biological ills, at least - are fading away with advances in medical and cybernetic technology, with only the inexorable passage of time left to claim most lives; a firm overseeing hand balances the power of the world's individual governments. CEN has made it clear to its people. There are whispers of future achievements - dreams of genetic manipulation, nanomolecular implants to one day lift every life of its shackles - only whispers, in the minds of most. Were they to exist, they would be accessible only to the most privileged; those whose hands control corporate conglomerates whose names are indivisible from daily life, or the highest echelons of government. Most if not all on Earth live comfortable lives; and those who do live unaware of those who do not. Resource extraction from asteroid mining stations at L4 and L5, as well as planetary extraction on Mars, have enabled those on Earth to live each day believing their society has surpassed the notion of scarcity. However, for those whose lives are spent on Earth's colonies, life is often more scant. To find oneself afoul of the whims of local authorities - whether planetary government or a space station's corporate hierarchy - can quickly mean ostracization, especially in an environment where people are vastly interdependent. Unless one knows the... right people, of course. Discontent is far from a forgotten feeling for humanity, even if so-called homeworlders on Earth see fit to believe otherwise. The 40th anniversary of the founding of CEN rapidly approaches. Only a few months remain until Unification Day, and all seems in order; celebration preparations on a newfound scale are underway. However, with just those few months to go, a dingy transport vessel arrives late from its origin of the terraformed moon, Callisto. The ship's passengers look rather harrowed, and not from the month-long journey; no, it is the news they bear that worries them. They fled to Earth in fear of growing civil unrest; word begins to spread of the moon's government overstepping its authority one too many a time, and too harshly at that. Those with the funds to leave did so, along with a small detachment of Callistan politicians, who are conversely petitioning CEN for aid in stopping what they state is an anti-Earth movement. Eager to prove itself once more as humanity's peacekeeper but lacking in the full details of the situation, a task force comprised both of civilian diplomats and a small protective force is dispatched to restore peace, having been issued authority superseding that of the Callistan government. The 40th Unification Day will be one of success for humanity... The ship Imminent Dawn sets off for its one-month journey towards Jupiter, and its moon; Callisto. Its orders: dock at the capital; contact Governor Arielle Avyndor, assess the situation, and resolve it as necessary, with peaceful means preferred. The crew - a diverse lot, homeworlders, colonists, officers trained on Luna's vaunted Hubble Naval Academy, test pilots and veteran pilots both - will find their abilities and beliefs tested...

"Mrrh..." At the pet, Laniva made a noise that could've been something close to a purr, maybe, if one had an extremely active imagination and was willing to stretch the truth a fair amount. Still, her ears flicked in tacit approval, nodding as Syta offered to bring her along. "Mm... yeah, okay. I guess it can't hurt, and maybe it'll help make sense of everything... oh-!" Taken by the hand, Laniva followed along as she brought them to Ren - the cleric that had shielded her earlier, she'd have to thank them for that - and the red-haired woman. Celine... that's who Syta's been looking for for a while. Who she's working for... She made sure not to slow Syta down, not letting her heels drag in her armor.

Laniva sighed and relaxed a little at the pasts; things looked like they were more properly over now, at least, and she turned her attention to Syta for now. "I'm okay, I'm fine, I promise. I'm not hurt, I just... don't really know how to make sense of all of this. I feel like when we take these jobs, they really leave a lot out... And all of that magic, too... I didn't even want to get anywhere near all that." She fidgeted slightly, turning to look at the rest of the Tigers, in a mix of relievedly embracing one another or collapsing from fatigue. She was feeling rather unlike doing the latter, settling for getting a bit closer to Syta as she kept up the pats. "Let's... go find somewhere to rest. And then, maybe you can explain some of this to me... I mean, I understand it... I think, but... mm."

"Syta...?!" The stress of the situation was slipping into her voice, nerves fraying slightly even as the situation in front of them began to resolve. There was a brief pause as Laniva turned to speak with Syta as she took a moment to collect herself. "S-Sorry... I'm okay. See, I'm not too badly hurt. I, it's just... a-all of this, is a lot, all at once, Syta..." The fatigue of the battle was starting to kick in, and as she sheathed her greatsword, her shoulders fell slightly. The hair on her tail was no longer exemplifying her panic quite as much, though it was clear enough that she was still on edge.

Laniva grit her teeth; she was too far, too slow, too helpless to do anything in this situation. A blade's edge, an arrow's sting; she could guard against these threats without concern, but skullduggery of this caliber was the opposite of her forte. The enemy had already gotten between her and the rest of the Tigers; staying on guard in the aftermath of the battle had served to do little from distance her from the action, and she began to make her way towards the sudden hostage situation. The rest of the Tigers were split between rushing towards the situation impulsively and standing by to think through the situation; she threw her lot in with the former group, moving to try to surround their two new foes, for what little good that might do. We were supposed to be escorts... if people this strong can so easily do this, then what are we even doing...?1

The battle's end brought a touch of ease, but less so than she'd liked, less so than a battle's end ought. The cat's tail flicked about, unable to find rest, and Mikoto's warning set her in a defensive stance. Knowing as she did what the fox was capable of, Laniva couldn't help feel somewhat outmatched, at least personally - the Evokers were another matter entirely, but if whatever was out there saw fit to attack anyone else first, well... The blade - she was still rather distant from it - sent chills down her spine whenever she glanced back at it; the voice in her head could have spoken of little else. Her eyes scanned the horizon, seeing nothing, and she heard nothing either, nothing besides the rattle of the Tigers steeling themselves for more. Fine though it was, her own blade was providing little comfort...

Laniva to (24, 17), Iron Greatsword Wyvern 10.

Wyvern riders were arriving now, to the north; given her predisposition towards not getting hit with powerful spells, Laniva decided it was probably best to approach them instead. There was a faint voice echoing through her mind; muffled, indistinct, unpleasant. You... with... blade... bring... Looking around, she couldn't quite place the cause. The hair on her tail raised slightly, and she found herself gripping her blade tighter, unconsciously, as she took a defensive stance. Laniva to (23, 14).

Laniva to (19, 12), flicking her blade clean as she moves.

Laniva to (21, 15), Iron Greatsword Sword Armor 2.

Laniva looked to the side only to see the raging Alriana running off, and grimaced. She hefted her blade and made to chase her; there was no pulling her back at this point, but at least she could help her, if this was things were going to go. She felt the magic beginning to cloak her, and nodded to the cleric in thanks. "Okay, here goes..." Laniva to (18, 15).

Things were looking... slightly better than they had a moment ago. But tides changed quickly in battle; it was good to not get caught up in a good moment overlong. Laniva to (15, 15).

She grimaced a little as the arrow separated rider and horse; there was a cheer from the enemy, and she felt a small want rising to cut their enemies' celebrations short. Laniva to (11, 15), Iron Greatsword Archer 1.

Laniva brought the blade down on the mage hard; perhaps harder than she'd intended to. Perhaps. She blinked slightly as the armored swordsman not far from the mage just... gave up. Probably for the best, though, all things told. There was a nasty looking pikeman - the pike, not the man - approaching; it seemed probably in the best interest of her health to not repeatedly take blows from wepaons specifically meant to injure her as much as possible. Laniva holds.

"Hey, Siorel... W-Wait, what? What are you talking about, seriously..." Laniva to (9, 18), Iron Greatsword Mage 1.

She was getting really sloppy if this was how she was going to be starting a battle. It was tempting to blame the strange, discomforting feeling from across the mountain, or perhaps thoughts wandering elsewhere; but in the end these things were little more than excuses, and excuses wouldn't stop another blade. "Thanks, Renais... I'll be more careful." Laniva to (5, 18).

There was an odd unease working through Laniva as she dismounted the wagon and looked towards the enemy, forming up for battle. Something in the direction in front of them; the mountain, or maybe beyond; there was something pulling, tugging, almost as if drawing her closer, calling to her. It was unusual, not only because usually she was calm, focused, heading into battle - but because this was simply a sensation she'd never felt before. It was difficult to say if it was a negative sensation, but regardless, it was somewhat uncomfortable. She drew the greatsword from its sheath, testing the slack on the chain attached to the pommel. This, at least; this felt comfortable. Laniva to (5, 21).