Super Robot Wars ∀: Deep Space IC Thread - Part 1: The Culmination

[Ether]

"That right, am also telekinetic." Seung-Min replied, there was not really much point in lying about it if she had already managed to clue in. Waaaait a second. Kim focused her attention on Christina's face rather intently for a moment, looking her up and down before nodding her head. It would make enough sense, with what Thorvald had mentioned earlier, and what she had heard while she was in the Mk III... she could ask her about it later, there was no need to distress her anymore for now. She might see if she could get her to relinquish that information of her own regard, though...

"Not problem. Spent time modeling, used to it. Not allow be shy doing that, really." Kim began, as Christina began reacting to the random example outfits she had pulled from the box, giggling a bit at the girl's reactions along the way.

"Is bit odd, yes. Fashion from while back, model for magazine, let keep after. Look strange, actual comfy wear. As shirt, plenty more red in box, allowed mix match, you know?" She replied with a smirk of her own. It was nice, just talking about clothes like this, to be honest. Most of the other girls around here were mechanic types, and didn't seem to be much for fashion, and well... as friendly as Jessica seemed to be, it was a bit soon to talk of such things with her Captain...

"Oh, full name Kim Seung-Min. Most America call Kim, easy for them. What yours, Christina?"

[Balcerzak]

The mechanic puffed up a bit with satisfied pride when he'd complimented her work, and then it had been down to business. The first item had gone over well enough, and his suggestion of getting the engineer's assistance had been well-received. He had to smile a bit when Avery slapped the 'smart but crazy' label to her, though he'd have probably have used a gentler 'eccentric' himself.

The other order of business he'd mentioned though... Well, that went over a little like a lead balloon, as Avery froze in disbelief: staring hard at Thorvald, before flicking to eye the Prioxis, then back and forth another time or two. As the cry of 'HOLY HELL', came sounding forth, he was forced to revise his opinion on the matter's reception. The mechanic seemed to be handling it more like a hydrogen-filled zeppelin failing a docking, actually. There was a veritable sprint toward the cockpit, as she seemed filled with a burning desire to confirm with her own eyes, and then she loudly shouted for four able bodies to help her with the task at hand, rendering his previous efforts at discretion completely moot, as well as his suggested priorities.

As for himself, Thorvald just stood there with a bit of a dopey apologetic smile on his face, awkwardly scratching the back of his head. "Ah, sure. You do you," he called back as Avery apologized for leaving him in the lurch and promising she'd have things wrapped up in a jiffy.

While he waited for the disposal efforts to finish up, he found himself wondering if there were something off about her reaction, or if that was actually pretty much the normal sequence of events to expect when telling someone about the discovery of unwanted explosivses? He thought back on his own feelings when Christina had dropped that bombshell; when the sickening weight of dread and guilt had filled his stomach, he supposed he might very well have had the same frozen look on his face. But there'd been no immediate springing into action afterward, to execute a decisive plan. Was the reason for that simply because they'd been physically removed from the situation and that he'd dismissed its danger since its pilot was nowhere near the detonator, nor had any intentions of using it? He wasn't entirely sure about that that; somehow he felt sure that usually there'd be a longer period of indecision and waffling regardless. Whatever the case, the conclusion he ended up coming to was that Avery either had prior experience with something similar, or the ANF mechanics were simply given damn good training on how to react to threatening situations (though he still felt the danger in this case was being a little overblown).

Edited August 28, 2016 by Balcerzak

[Phoenix]

Giving it some thought, Brant decided that he'd better freshen up while he had the chance. Closing the door behind him as he made it back to his room, he took off his flightsuit and the clothing underneath, threw it all into the wash, and went straight into the shower. The water came out hot and soothing; he didn't have to wait for it to warm up like in some showers he'd used in the past.

"Two dead, and counting," Brant reminded himself, the deaths still fresh in his mind. Christina was something of a special case, but it only eased his guilt a little. What was worse, Brant knew he was going to grow numb to all of this as time went along and his bodycount rose higher and higher. Was this what Rex was going through in the EU military? "What's going to happen to me ... when I stop caring about this?" He stared up at the shower head, looking past it to a future he wanted no part of.

There was something else, too. That battle had shown him a lot of things, about himself, about the enemy, and about his fellow squad mates. Tarquin was young, but hadn't hesitated to immediately put down any threat that presented itself. Brant had praised the pilot for taking a shot he wasn't confident he himself could make at that distance, but he'd forgotten about the enemy pilot altogether. Brant smiled bitterly. "These are only standards I hold myself to ... if I really cared about these pilots ..." he left the thought unspoken. The truth was, he was just like Kim. She would never rail on any of them for their failures, only her own. Brant found that irksome in some ways, but it made sense to be that way. Changing others was impossible most of the time. You could only change yourself. Likewise, Brant couldn't berate the others for doing their jobs, even if they enjoyed the violence on some level. No, he could only get on his own case for that, because it was his responsibility. He didn't care about the enemy, especially not those who were vaporized in the fighting. Brant only cared about the role he played in their deaths. It felt hypocritical and self centered, but the military was no place to go if one were hoping to escape the ugliness of human nature.

Brant's rationale was in place, but the subconscious of man spoke a different language. The guilt itself, that inescapable feeling that he'd murdered potential friends, sons or daughters, fellow human beings, wasn't going anywhere for the time being. "It could have been worse ..." The words themselves were hollow but Brant was genuinely relieved that they'd saved at least two people so far. He didn't know what to make of Nikolai. He hoped the Riese pilots had won the lottery in a sense, capturing Christina. Imagining the other pilots to all be like the other prisoner they'd captured, unhinged and kind of thick in the head, helped ease the guilt of killing two of them, even if it wasn't probable.

It was time to come up for air after that philosophical dive. Brant stepped out of the shower, cutting the water off as he did, and dried himself off. His hair was still damp by the end of it, but it wasn't enough to bother him or soak his collar. He avoided gazing at the tall mirror as he left the washroom, not wanting to see himself completely exposed after already discovering some things he didn't like about himself. Brant settled on a black tank top and some beige cargo pants he favored for clothing. He'd have to lose the pants to get into his flightsuit, again, but for now he could afford to be comfortable. Speaking of comfort, he glanced at his new computer. He hadn't really broken the thing in, yet.

Brant turned the machine on and the various screens came alive. This machine had a very good cooling system, and it ran virtually silent at all times. Past the user login and initial setup, Brant was in his element. In five minutes, he'd replicated his old system down to the last macro, theme, and file directory. "Welcome home, Brant," he said with a faint smile. Now it was time to address the elephant on the main monitor. There were thirteen notifications waiting for him that he'd ignored for the sake of getting everything just the way he wanted it. Now it was time to have a look at these notifications and see why they'd piled up so quickly in just a couple of days.

"Eleven from Firmia," Brant said, feeling awkward all of a sudden, "one from Rosa," his expression turned bitter in an instant, "and one from Alkaev Fan Forums ..." It must have been the weekly notification. It was about that time, he realized.

Brant scanned Firmia's messages, and to his surprise only found one that looked like a duplicate, the result of her pressing a worn out send button too lightly and then immediately overcompensating. She was sending him frequent updates about her new training regimen, and from what Brant was reading, it wasn't pretty. She had his sympathies. Among her last messages was the voice profile he'd requested. He saved the massive file and moved on, intending to work it into one of his programs when he had some free time. The message from Rosa was a request to call her at the earliest opportunity. Brant's mind scrambled for all manner of excuses to put that off for as long as humanly possible. If he could avoid talking to her until the heat death of the universe, that'd be great. The last notification was a week's summary of new discussions on the forum, just as Brant had suspected. It only covered topics he was personally interested in.

"I wonder how my doppelganger's doing," he mused aloud. He disconnected one of the secondary monitors and began pacing around the room with it as he pulled up the forum site and logged in. It was no surprise, but Brant's doppelganger, B1A2, was doing exactly what it was supposed to be doing. B1A2, a reference to the M1A2 Abrams, a classic battle tank, was a virtual intelligence, a 'VI' Brant had written up to pretend to be him on web forums, a bot to handle things in his absence. B1A1, its predecessor was now just a desktop assistant that Brant was steadily improving in his spare time. Neither could pass for human. Brant had to carefully program B1A2 in particular, putting in thousands of preset responses and writing an algorithm to help it narrow down an appropriate responses without getting too repetitive. It was hard work, but no one had caught onto his little scheme just yet. Of course, this scheme meant that extended absences would see him returning to a mountain of logs with little hope of ever getting through them all in a timely manner.

Fortunately for Brant, B1A1, his desktop assistant, was programmed to show him the highlights, using its own algorithm to pinpoint posts of greatest importance. Brant was presented with those when he pulled up the full logs and sighed in relief; he'd gone from one thousand nine hundred fifty-two messages to just under sixty. Brant started reading through them in order.

The talk in this particular discussion was about several new mobile suits the company had just built. The Alkaevs usually announced what they were working on well in advance in order to lure in investors, but Brant hadn't heard anything about this ... which meant these had been built sometime in the last couple of weeks. Some of the people he knew on this forum, [Ellen the Generous] and [Morning WoodWorker] in particular, had been asking him, asking A2 in reality, for details, which the VI couldn't provide. Brant was technically an employee of the Alkaevs, and that was a well known fact on the forum, so Ellen in particular was surprised he wasn't able to provide any further details initially. A2 had cleverly pointed out that he wasn't an engineer or mechanic, just an employee, and therefore wouldn't be privy to everything going on. MWW was placated by that, but to this very hour, Ellen was checking in with A2, trying to get more info and videos. A2 had managed to get some of the specifications for the mobile suits, as well as some videos of their test flight, though Brant wasn't sure how the little VI had pulled that off without official access. He was more curious about the suits themselves, so he took a look at the extra info his VI was able to find.

"They're transforming mobile suits," Brant said, his mouth ajar with surprise. It wouldn't be the first time the Alkaevs had produced flying robots to try and compete with conventional fighter jets. It was however, the first time said machines had the specifications to perform well on the ground, in the air, and even in space. Due to technological limitations, they were too often forced to prioritize specialization over broader performance. This time they seemed to be trying to create a military flagship series. Needless to say, he was impressed, and also a little concerned. How did they pull this off? Who leaked this info? ... and why did these things look so ... familiar?

"Throne: Medium range equipment for general purpose use," Brant quoted the message he was reading, "Mantle: Long range equipment for perimeter defense and intercept missions in atmo. Also capable of BVR engagements in space." In space, a bullet wasn't affected so harshly by gravity, which meant a sophisticated fire control system could accurately score hits on stationary targets from beyond visual range. It would need to be equipped with a railgun in particular for that sort of mission, however, and the Mantle's standard equipment was one of the largest beam rifles Brant had ever laid eyes on. It wasn't the only one with a big gun ...

"Regalia: Long range equipment and ..." he paused at "[Classified]" and grimaced. A2 had done well but not everything on these machines was meant to be public knowledge. He continued on in silence for a moment, and stopped again right at the end. "TK use." So that was why the rest of the equipment wasn't listed. "Wait a minute," Brant pulled the screen closer, trying to figure out why they made what was essentially a TK version of the Mantle, with the Throne's hip mounted cannons. Firmia couldn't pilot one of these well enough to justify making one specifically for her ... though maybe he wasn't giving her enough credit. She could handle a plane or mobile suit as well as any military pilot; she'd proven as much during their training together. She just lacked discipline as a pilot, though that was enough to severely limit someone's willingness to invest in her. Maybe the Regalia was going into mass production at some point, as Brant suspected the Throne and Mantle models were. A mass produced mobile suit for TKs would be ... something.

Suddenly Brant felt the need to speak to Avery about some things. He wanted her take on these leaks. Christina's too, now that he thought about it. The detached monitor had plenty of range; as long as the signals weren't blocked through the walls, he should be able to take the screen with him outside the room and show it to others. That was the plan. He just hoped he didn't lose the blasted signal from the main console ....

[Nanami Touko]

Fashion

"So you are... Then all my worries earlier were even sillier. I didn't want to bother Brant, but here I am, giving you everything... Hah, what a silly girl I am." Christina mocked herself with slight distaste, wondering if there were any more surprised TKs on board this ship. Two already, that was definitely more than the norm. A battleship was lucky to have one, if any.

"You spent time modeling? What were you doing before joining the ANF? Surely it was more fun than fighting in mechs." Christina hadn't the faintest why someone would give up something as illustrious as modeling for the life of a soldier, but different strokes, she figured. She gathered up the jeans and a different sweater, one that held itself up on the upper arms, fishing around for a black tank top inside the boxes. "Well, if you're comfortable with your chest hanging out, by all means, but I'm definitely going to cover up. Just gonna go slip into these..."

Names, huh? "Do you mind if I call you Kim, then? Not that Seung-Min is hard to say, just, well, if everyone else is, might as well stick to the trend... Mine?" Joy. The fun of saying her last name once again. Considering she was a telekinetic, she'd probably piece it together, too. "Troy. Christina Troy..." she mumbled, looking down. Every time she had to mention this it brought her back to what she'd done, so hopefully Kim would let it sit there.

"I'll be right back." Into the washroom she went again, to put on some more comfortable and hopefully stylish clothes.

Down the Shaft

Jess hopped onto the elevator and began to wonder, who else would be good for the interrogation? Would one of the lieutenants be good, to tell if he was lying? Maybe... Megumi seemed ready for some serious interrogation, but Jess was hoping it wouldn't have to come to that. There had to be someone they could bring along with Cheryl... Ah, well. She was already at the bottom floor, so it was getting a bit late to figure it out. Cheryl first, decision later.

Bomb Disposal

Sure enough, with some steady hands and a few minutes, Avery and her trusted mechanic crew had removed the chair and the bomb with it, carrying it safely over to the disposal. It was quickly jettisoned through a long tube out into space, meaning the last of their issues with THAT had been dealt with. Avery sighed, before heading on over, quickly again, to the other Prioxis' cockpit. Luckily, there was no bomb there, so if there had been any other explosives, they had been taken out with the rest of the plane.

Wiping the sweat off her brow, Avery went back to Thorvald, looking more stressed, and far less amiable than when he'd come in. "Sorry 'bout that, Thorvald," the use of his first name another indicator of her stress, "what were you sayin'? Transceivers in the Prioxes, and there was some other stuff before I went'n cut ye off? Sorry again fer that, I just, uh... I got some history with explosives, and it ain't pretty. I won't bore you iffin yer not interested, but even iffin ye were, I wouldn't be blabbing everythin'. Best way t'put it."

She tried her best to re-apply her smile, and her carefree attitude, even if it wasn't at one hundred percent. "Let's get back to what ah'm best at, yeh? I got a hankerin' fer some more fiddlin', and I figure ye can keep me pre-occupied fer a bit!"

Edited August 28, 2016 by Narmaya

[Shin]

Little Man, Big Job

Tarquin was still rather confused by Doctor Hart, her investigations having tested his resilience. Now that'd he'd dealt with the whole Elaine situation, and considering that the doctor had told him that they all needed to work as a team, he wondered how the prisoners were doing. When they'd been captured, the others had taken care of them. He wasn't normally too interested in other people, but if he wanted to progress he'd need to start somewhere. The captain seemed to think fairly highly of him, so perhaps it wouldn't be too strange to ask if he could at least watch the interrogation.

The chances were the captain was somewhere near the bridge, or it was a reasonable assumption she was there. Leaving Doctor Hart's office actually made him feel a little better, in the hallways he was just another member of the crew. Admittedly about half a decade or so younger, but he wasn't too unusual. Approaching the elevators, his task seemed to have become a lot easier - the captain had just emerged from one of the elevators. This was his chance, it was best to do it whilst he still had the nerve for it.

"Captain, can I ask you something?" Tarquin asked, giving a quick salute. "I was curious to how the interrogation of the prisoners was going. I haven't heard any new information. I was hoping, if it were possible, to at least observe the interrogation of the... interesting prisoner."

He could feel his little heart racing, he'd finally done it. He'd done more than followed orders, he'd made a request. Doctor Hart was possibly right, perhaps people weren't so hard after all?

[Ether]

"Was Idol, sing, dance, model, all stuff. Not have much choice in matter... TK too valuable for government." Kim replied, answering the question that Christina had been thinking, but hadn't vocalized. She gave Christina an approving nod as she asked if she could call her Kim instead, she didn't have much problem with it, so it was fine... she also actually divulged her last name, which was nice. Seung-Min had heard it from Thorvald earlier, but it was nice to get it directly from her, the girl's clear apprehension about the whole thing all but confirming her suspicions.

"Okay, should fit, we close size. Let me know if problems."

[Dandragon]

"My bot is still under repairs, but I think Tarquin's didn't take any damage, so we can work on his." As Elaine spoke, she spotted herself a detached barrel of a beam rifle still connected to the core of the rifle itself. She went over and inspected it as much as she could. Hm...I can probably re-calibrate the core so it can fire at different frequencies with a few changes to the energy source...All I need to do is find a lens and some panels to fire at. She she made a mental note about it and continued her search until she found a particular square panel lying around. Hm...Ursulem...with a hint of copper...and coated in a lightweight titanium alloy...This could be good for a receiver if I can salvage some sort of antennae to narrow it down. I'll have to ask Buck what this came from. See if they can't manufacture this. It was then she spotted a spare mech head in the back. Moving her way to the back, she found the camera on the head was loose. "Of course! This lens is perfect!" She grabbed the camera and started pulling until it came lose from the head. Elaine inspected it closely, turning it sideways and upwards and all sorts of directions to get a good look. Maybe she could use the entire camera for something.

It was only then that Elaine had noticed Talog gesturing to have her come over. Elaine watched as Talog was attempting to visualize how all the pieces would fit together. "I think it might be simpler if we use this as base." She said to Talog, pointing at the barrel she had found. "And," She said, lifting up the panel she had found. "I'd like to use this as a receiver. It's Ursulem compund. A relatively new type of armor that outshines Chobham ten fold. They combined the usual depleted uranium and silicon with a more radioactive alloy and coated the whole thing in galinstan, thus creating what they call Ursulem. With this panel, it's got hints of copper and titanium. Normally, it's used for beam and shock absorption, but I think if we reverse engineer it and instead use some of the materials they use in satellites, this could make for a great receiver!" She set it down by her feet. "So...What do you think?"

Edited August 28, 2016 by Dandragon

[Balcerzak]

True to her word, Thorvald didn't have to wait long for Avery and her associates to uproot the explosive and vent it out an exhaust chute. She returned noticeably more agitated than she'd been when he'd initially arrived, offering a bit of a halting apology for having dropped everything to take care of that bit of bad business. Her words also confirmed the niggling little suspicions that had been floating around in his brain as he'd watched the crew working as they'd disarmed it.

"Bore me? Far from it, I get the feeling there's a fair bit o' excitement in that there history, but don't feel like you need to give me anything more than the skinny. After we're through with things up here in space and set back down at Dry Lake though, maybe I'll invite you to a drink at the cantina and you can unload the whole thing off your chest then, if you want."

Thorvald waited to hear her response before jumping straight back into shop talk. Even though Avery did seem a little anxious to return to business as usual, he figured it'd maybe be better for her to let off a little bit of this pent up steam, even if that weren't precisely what she'd said she wanted. People can be funny sometimes about saying one thing and meaning another.

[Phoenix]

As Brant left his room, he was glad to see that the monitor was still working, with no interference from the walls. He considered bringing his findings to Christina first, since she was so close by, but quickly dismissed the idea. She wasn't going anywhere and needed some time to adjust without him orbiting constantly. He also wanted to make sure the mechanics hadn't put something else on his Accensus like before.

On his way to the elevator, he reviewed the information from the forum posts, remembering that this information was apparently leaked. A thought suddenly occurred. Was the information really leaked? Leaked in the sense that an employee was doing something Rosa's grandfather wouldn't want them to be doing? Some of the equipment on the Regalia wasn't present, and nothing else about these mobile suits, other than their overall design and purpose, was really worth safeguarding. Companies would boast of their products without giving too many details, not hide everything like the military would. Maybe it was a deliberate information leak in lieu of an official announcement, and not what he'd first imagined. Or ... maybe Firmia was getting back at everyone for the harsh treatment she was getting lately. That was also quite possible.

Something in the back of Brant's mind told him he should call Rosa. She could elaborate on this. She had full access to all of the company's data ... every. Last. Byte. Of information ... and Brant knew she'd be more than willing to tell him whatever he wanted to know. She, frankly, owed him that much, and far far more. Still, the idea of talking to her was less appealing than never learning the truth at all. That was why he wanted Avery's opinion on these new machines. He knew he was being stubborn but it wasn't a life or death situation, just a genuine curiosity.

Brant wasn't expecting to find the Captain and Tarquin by the elevators. They weren't the ones he wanted to speak to right now, though, so he waved at them with his free hand, belatedly remembered he was supposed to salute a superior officer when they crossed paths, and fought back a cringe as he hailed the elevator. He really hoped it wouldn't come up, these pointless and persistent military gestures, but he knew he was asking for it, behaving so casually around the captain.

[Nanami Touko]

Right Little Guy For The Job

Jess stopped in her tracks, staring down at Tarquin, an idea popping into her head as he asked his request. "Hmm." It wouldn't do to treat Tarquin like the child he was, physically, after that fight. He'd pilled triggers without hesitation and had been a fantastic asset to their victory. It would be best to treat him like any other pilot, honestly. "Yes, that should be fine. Follow me, then. I have to gather someone else before I see about speaking to our latest guest. You're free to follow me, wait, or head up to the brig yourself; but, don't speak to the prisoner until I get there... Though I'm sure you know that." She walked past him and back towards Cheryl's office, knocking on the door. Whether Tarquin followed her, waited at the elevator, or went on his own towards the brig, she had a psychiatrist to grab (but she still saluted Brant on the way, and hoped he was alright~).

"Dr. Hart? I need you for something."

Cheryl closed her eyes at the knocking, setting her cigar down in its tray. She could get back to that later. "The door's open, Captain."

Jess poked her head in, immediately assaulted by the smell of the smoke, though it wasn't as offensive as a cigarette would have been. "I need you to come with me. I'm sure you know, we got some prisoners from the fight. One of them is... Rather difficult. It would be best if you could talk to him."

"Difficult, huh? What sorta of difficult?" Cheryl got herself up from her recliner, stretching, yawning, and making towards the door. "The kind we're going to have to resort to Dr. Amparo for, or the kind that I can pry something out of?" She popped a wry smile as she spoke, pushing past Jess and out of the door.

Jess frowned. She hoped that Megumi wouldn't have to employ her drugs, but if that boy was going to be as difficult as he was when he came in, they might really have to. "We'll see, Doctor. For now, let's try the gentle approach."

"Fine by me~ Let's see to your inmate."

The Right Size

Should fit, right? Christina took off, gladly, the hospital dress she'd found and looked over the clothes she'd borrowed from Kim... Maybe I should've asked for some extra underwear... But... I wouldn't fit into hers, haha... How depressing. She sighed, trying the jeans first. As expected, they were just a tad long, but she could roll up the ankles. Everywhere else fit, at least well enough. No issues around the thighs or waist, as most clothes tended to bring. Then the tank top, that was loose, it was just something to go on under the sweater... Which was, admittedly, just a tiny big snug, but it was a sweater, so it left plenty to the imagination. A girl has to have some secrets, you know?

The opening of the sweater went down her shoulders a bit, but that was fine. It rested on her arms, and it was comfortable. Her top was just covered enough by the clothing, and that was perfect. "Feel like I'm getting ready for a day at uni or something... Hah." She had her own socks, her boots were still in the room. She could go for a walk if Brant wasn't busy, later. Or Thorvald. Maybe Kim? That'd depend on if the Captain could give her another escort...

She came out of the washroom and shook her hair out some, running some fingers through it, making sure it all went down properly. It was difficult to take care of so much, hopefully the products on board were capable of handling it all. That small thought aside, she walked back over to Kim with a smile. "There. Don't look like much of a rebel anymore, right? Just your average teenager."

The Not-so-Skinny

Avery sighed. It was impossible to hide how she felt about those stupid contraptions. Not that she was about to divulge the tale like it was supposed to be common knowledge, but leaving one of the crew hanging after that freakout show, that didn't feel right. Avery didn't say anything as she reached down, grabbing at the left leg of her jump suit, and pulling it up to her knee. As the joint was revealed, right below, was a silver line, a small pattern of rectangular edges. Anyone who knew anything about prosthetics could tell that that everything from her knee down, as much as it looked like skin, was artificial.

She let the fabric drop, offering Thorvald a small smile. If he didn't get it, she'd explain it, but she hoped that was enough. She spoke uncharacteristically quietly after that. "Sorry fer worryin' ya. I'll try t'keep a clearer head 'bout these things in th'future. Specially if they ain't timed, nothin' to rush for. Just somethin' that sets me off, so t'speak, haha." Seemingly amused by her own joke she went back to smiling, adjusting her ball cap.

"What'd ye have fer me, then, Eriksson? I wanna get mah hands on somethin' mechanical."

Edited August 28, 2016 by Narmaya

[Juliette]

"Hmm. Okay," Juria agreed, waving and smiling as she paused in her eating. "Will talk with Jess Captain soon. But eat for now! See later, Astin friend!" She continued biting away at her food for a good few minutes before wandering up towards the bridge- it seemed the most likely place to find the Captain.

But she wasn't there. Juria looked around confusedly before speaking up. "Um, excuse me! Does anyone know where Jess Captain go?" she asked slowly, trying to make sure her question was understandable.

[scorri]

Astin wandered their way back towards their room, but as they reached their door, they noticed the door on a far room open. Frowning, since they didn't remember anyone having a room down there, they headed down the hall, arriving at the open door a few seconds later. Glancing in, they saw Kim and... someone. Someone new... "Err, hello. I... who are you exactly? I don't remember you..."

[Shin]

Zoo

Tarquin nodded, he knew better than to outright disobey an order from the Captain. Watching as she walked to fetch Doctor Hart, it would save time if he made his way to the brig. It wasn't a place that he'd thought he'd be visiting. If anyone had to be there, it'd probably be Elaine... although he didn't think he'd visit her. The ascent to the top deck didn't take long, even with the size of the ship, the elevators were more than fast enough.

The doors of the elevator opened, leaving only a hallway to reach the brig. The floor seemed unnaturally shiny, but it was but a minor detail. It felt strange walking past the bridge, it was a whole section of the ship that he'd never visited. Back at the base, he never went anywhere outside of his own dorm, the training halls and the canteen. Roaming around so freely was almost alien to him.

As was the brig. It could have easily been mistaken for another hallway, if it hadn't been for the cells lining the walls. Barebones, padded, cold and clinical, they weren't hugely different to the room from his early childhood. Walking down the hall, he scanned the rooms, looking for the prisoner. It wasn't hard to not notice him, he'd already made a mess of his cell, lying on the ground like a wounded animal. He was almost pitiful, didn't he know it was easier just to do what he was told? Tarquin had never dared question his supervisors, he'd never cried, not even once. This ugly little goblin was curious, he just didn't make sense, but at the same time, it wasn't as if he had no logic to his actions.

-

Gumshoe Billabong

Wiping his brow, Bill had defeated his latest foe - the scuff marks near the elevator. This floor scuffing menace was running amok, if he were to give up now, the ship would be mildly scruffy - a fate no vessel deserved. But who could be behind all this? He'd narrowed it down to someone wearing boots, most likely with legs and feet. Unfortunately, that seemed to be almost every member of the crew. Footwear seemed to be the biggest clue he had, he'd need to keep a sharp eye on everyone's shoes from now on.

"Some grotty bugger's got some great cloppers." Bill pondered, wondering who could be guilty of such a heinous act. "Wasn't the little fella with the technicolour yawn, that narrows it down by one person."

[Ether]

Seung-Min waited for Christina to exit the washroom, the girl having taken some of the clothing in with her to change. Well, there didn't appear to be any particular distress coming from the side room, so one could only assume that the clothing fit at least reasonably well. Her suspicions were confirmed soon thereafter, as Christina stepped out, the ensemble complete, and aside from the rolled up ankles, which could pass as a fashion statement in their own right, and the snug loaf that the sweater left upon her chest, nothing would have given anyone reason to think she weren't wearing her own clothing.

"Look good, suit well." Kim replied, giving Christina Brant's patented thumbs up with a smile, before turning towards the entrance at the feeling of confusion, as well as the question vocalized by Astin, who was standing in the doorway.

"This Christina, capture in mission. Make deal with Captain, not know detail, saw come down Brant Thorvald." Kim replied, figuring that Christina herself could elaborate if she so chose. Kim herself didn't really know the full circumstance yet, after all.

[Balcerzak]

Thorvald was initially confused as Avery hunched down a bit and fiddled with her pant leg, but when it was finally lifted high enough, a slow realization dawned on him, bringing with it a small grimace as he realized his handling of the whole topic had been far from sensitive. The fact that he couldn't realistically have been expected to know didn't hold much weight as far as softening that blow either. Once the mechanic was fully upright again, both pant legs having fallen back into place, he reached out a hand and gently squeezed her on the shoulder.

She'd said she was sorry for worrying him, but Thorvald was having none of that. Not right not at least. "I'm a father. When you've got a little girl, you worry. It's what you do. Sometimes it gets to be so second nature it rubs off where it shouldn't, but that's nothing you need to apologize for. My offer stands though; we get home you ever want to knock one back and just let out any worries of your own, I'll buy and listen."

That was as far as he was going to take things. He could tell Avery wanted to put the episode behind her, getting down and dirty with the nitty gritty of her trade, so he moved back to his original purpose, the interrupted list of tasks he'd hoped to have the mechanics to to work on. "For now though, I suppose we better get you busy. Aside from the comms project I mentioned earlier, the results of this last skirmish, and looking ahead to the next one, got me to thinking about mixing up my weapons loadout. It's a bit of mindless work, but it should keep you occupied. Was thinking of starting pretty much from scratch, though not entirely... Gotta keep that chaff just in case, you know what I'm saying? I think the Beam Sword'll be a little bit easier to wield than the Assault, so was gonna make that swap, and I've been finding it a little harder to move out there, or the enemy are just a mite quicker than I'm used to, so I should probably trade the 180 Blast for some HMS-01, at least while we're up here. It'll decrease my overall output some, but sometimes you just can't afford to chance a miss. Since we'll be going in without the Heion for additional support, it couldn't hurt to slap on one of those Spider Web net slingers, and a resupply module too. I think we should have units in stock for all of that, but if I messed up the inventory list somewhere, you just holler at me and suggest an alternative. Speaking of units in stock... If I remember right we had two of them repair modules, yeah? I saw the new Sarge has one of 'em, but do you know which unit is equipped with the other?"

With his own checklist laid out and accounted for, Thorvald began moving onto covering some possible upgrades and tweaks for the rest of the crew. Naturally, that was going to rely on some input from the head mechanic herself, though.

Edited August 29, 2016 by Balcerzak

[Phoenix]

The captain didn't seem to mind his complete abandonment of military style greetings, which in this instance was a good thing. Neither did Tarquin but that was actually a good thing. Brant wouldn't have to worry about inadvertently getting caught up in anything, yet. He road the elevator up to the second deck and made straight for the Riese's hangar, keeping his new monitor tucked safely under his arm.

Avery was easy enough to spot; pink hair, a ball cap, and a smile only an exploding ship could shake. Thorvald was down here, too, along with some other pilots, though he was with Avery right now. The other pilots, Elaine and Talog, seemed to be working on something. Whatever it was, it didn't look like it would be finished in time for the mission. On the other hand, the mechanics around here were quite efficient. Even if his fellow pilots weren't, they had all the help they could ever need to put together whatever they were working on.

Time was of the essence, and if he wanted to speak to Avery, then Christina again, and then have time still to go back to relaxing before the next phase of the mission began, he couldn't dawdle for too long between the to-dos. He just hoped he wasn't interrupting anything important. What he had to speak with Avery was absolutely nothing compared to anything relating to the actual mission.

"Hey there," Brant waved with his free hand before taking the monitor out from under his arm. He was going to be embarrassed if he'd come all this way only for the signal to die on him, now, though perhaps it wouldn't matter. The information was already there, and the monitor had its own power supply. They wouldn't be able to watch the videos if the signal was lost, since they hadn't been loaded, but the general specs were still right there in the posts. "Are you busy, Avery? I wanted to ask you about something, but I'm not going to butt into mission prep just to do it."

Edited August 29, 2016 by Phoenix

[Sandalphon]

And thus, Danse Macabre had passed to Pachelbel's Canon in D, which had then turned into a spirited rendition of Nessun Dorma.

"Nessun dorma! Nessun dorma! Tu pure, o Principessa" he sang loudly. It was clear that he was no Bocelli, as it sounded more like heavily accented shouting than any true attempt at any melody "nella tua fredda stanza..."

He mockingly waggled his fingers like a conductor's baton as he continued his raucous performance. He had stopped bleeding, but had made no attempt to clean any of the blood that had dribbled onto his chin, giving him a rather disquieting appearance. In his time left alone, he had kicked over the bed and somehow propped the mattress along the wall, facing the incredibly reflective mirrored surface on the wall. It was incredibly out of place in an almost familiar way.

He had realised that it was probably some sort of one-way window, much like the ones they'd used to keep a safe eye on him and the other members of the People's Revolutionary Liberation Army when they'd been thrown into the state hospital to be rehabilitated. At the time, it had been his first experience with a mirror, and his own scrubbed clean/ shaven, hospital gown clad reflection had frightened him to the point where he had tried to break it. The memory of the bruised knuckles brought him a little joy, at least this time he still had hair and hadn't been sprayed with concentrated anti-septics yet. The point was that he was pretty sure there must be something on the other side of the door listening into his awful noise. He wanted them to know exactly how he felt.

Faintly scrawled on the mattress, in his own filthy blood, were two of the only words he'd bothered learning to write properly.

"ʂ_ʊCқ ^Iʈ."

Edited August 29, 2016 by ♡ Komaeda ♡

[Nanami Touko]

Walk and Talk

Cheryl didn't look very happy to be heading towards the brig, Jess worrying about making any sort of small talk... The woman was nearly twice her age. She seemed like a no nonsense, serious business type of woman, and Jess already had enough of that, with a slab of pride on the side. She did have one thing to say, though... "Do you think we'll need to call Dr. Amparo over?"

Cheryl had been waiting for that one, placing a hand on the back of her neck and looking up at the ceiling of the elevator. "Ahhh... Maybe. I'll talk to him, maybe scare him a bit, but if that doesn't work then we'll need to get a bit drastic. Is he with the rebels or Apotheosis?" She glanced over at Jess with a rather intent stare, making the captain flinch slightly.

"The rebels, according to the other one. So he might know more than she did... Which was a considerable amount, but still. Always good to know as much as we can... And honestly, I'm, kind of worried about this one. Maybe we can rehabilitate him, or something? He seems like a good rest and some warm food would perk him back up."

That was the sort of naive thought that meant Jess was not cut out for doing interrogations. "Yeah, definitely. I'm sure some of the captain's home made cooking will turn him right around." It was an obvious jab, so Jess didn't give it much of a response, as the door opened.

"Look, I'm just saying, we should give him a chance, alright? The other girl, Christina, she turned out great! Told us everything, barely any hassle, no issues. Maybe this guy was just upset about getting caught. Let's see if we can talk to him and... Then..." Jess stopped talking as they both turned the corner into the brig, the sight of his cell a rather... Charming, display.

"Rehabilitate. Yep." Cheryl rolled her eyes. This one was going to be a doozy. But at least... "Ah, Tarquin~ How nice of you to join us. Feel like making a friend?"

Jess groaned, pressed a button on their captive's cell console, and turned on the two way viewing.

O' Captain, My Captain

Some of the bridge looked up at Juria, wondering why the mechanic was here again, but she made her request clear when he arrived. Only Tristan bothered to answer, heading over to her. "The Captain left to see about the prisoners... She should either be at the brig, or on the bottom floor, right now. Should I page her for you? Or would you rather go check for yourself?" Whatever it was, it had to be important, to be coming up to the bridge.

I'm...

Christina was glad that Kim's clothes fit, for the most part, and she knew that she looked good, but having someone else say it was good reinforcement. Maybe she'd be able to get some more, as a new face had walked in the door. "I'm-- ... Everything that Kim just said." Christina put her hands on her hips and gave her new acquaintance a small scowling smile, before turning that attention to the new face in the door way. "I was in the other Prioxis pulled in... Like she said, I told Jess everything I know, and I was given a room, considering my... Family history." They'll know eventually, so no point hiding it. But... Not gonna go into a talk about it, unless they ask...

"I was with the Apotheosis people working with the rebels, but... That life wasn't for me. I don't entirely agree with the ANF or the EU either, but... Getting thrown to the wolves like I was today, nearly killing some of you... Never again." She shivered, bringing her hips hands up to hold around her stomach, under her loaf. "That's all there is to me, really... I made a mistake, got lucky, ended up here, and am borrowing the Lieutenant's clothes. What's your name?" It might've been a bit grim for a first impression, but at least it was the truth, even if abbreviated.

Always in The Details

Avery smirked a wry smirk, laughing a little bit. "Trus' me Thorvy, gonna take knockin' more'n one back t'get that story outta me. Ain't somethin' I ever wanna go back to iffin I can avoid it... Good t'know we got a concerned father on the ship lookin' out fer all us youngin's, though."

That said, there were things she could attend to, right now. Or, that she could almost attend to, but actually couldn't. She'd proud of her panel as he spoke, flicking through the ship's listed wares, and... Well, Thorvald's shopping list was a bit too long.

"Er, two thangs. I agree, yer needin' somethin' better in space; seems like yer tryin'a fight in water but there ain't no tension in the void, so you either swing too fast er account fer tension on yer shots that just ain't there. Makes me wonder iffin you were doing water stuff before this whole mess. Maybe you can knock a hard one back an' tell me 'bout that sometimes. Anyways, uh... 'Bout wha'cha want. We only got some extra-- wow, just one, extra beam saber on hand. All the other stuff yer lookin' for, uh... It's on other peoples mechs, or we don't have it. What we got is..." She went over the list for a moment before she was confident she'd picked up on everything. "Plasma Rapier, Gunlance, one o' them Chakr'ms, Elaine set her snaiper aside, three machine guns-- now why does everyone always like the beam shit? Ballistics work jus' as good! Anyway, There's that 'an two repair modules on standby. Want any o' that?"

As she finished listing that off, Brant showed up, Avery flashing him that gold medal smile. "Well, Thorvy's gaht some thinkin' t'do, so I figure I can check whatever you got there. Tablet? What's on it? Give 'er here." She figured he wasn't coming up to the hanger to show off his favorite cat video. "Oh, also, gotta ask 'bout those funnels o' yers too, but that can wait till this is done."

Edited August 29, 2016 by Narmaya

[Sandalphon]

Nikolai jumped as the mirror suddenly gave way to a clear window into the room on the other side. He hadn't been expecting them to actually let themselves be seen, it was an unexpected development.

His eyes settled on the first figure, a young looking redhead he had seen quickly during his failed attempt at booking it. Her features were smooth and clear, and currently twisted into a disappointed expression. She, he figured, probably didn't have very much experience with this sort of situation. He stored this tidbit of information into his mental Rolodex, he was sure that he could somehow use it to his advantage. His gaze then traveled over to the woman standing next to her, a bit taller. Her arms were crossed as her face glared at him with a stern expression. If he had to guess, he was sure this woman was in charge, or at least in charge of royally-fucking-him-in-the-ass (metaphorically or not, depending on the proclivities of those who had imprisoned him). He hoped that the younger woman was the one who would try to reach him first, not out of any particular sense of fondness but because he had encountered her type before, the soft-eyed tenderhearts who could be won over with a sob story and who would not expect him to leap over the table and make for the door the moment the cuffs were off. Those who, if they had seen the terrors the world had to offer, hadn't been hardened by them yet.

He then noticed a smaller figure on the side, gazing into the room with a look of bafflement and disgust. His brows furrowed as he tried to process the nature of this one. He was small, with pale eyes and paler hair. Too small, too young. He had seen children his size, barely fitting in borrowed boots, holding kalashnikovs that dwarfed them. He'd seen them tremble behind crumbled walls, holding their hands against their ears to block out the hell that was swirling around them before men who should've known better barked at them to charge forth. He'd seen bodies like his torn to pieces by the bullets of adults who didn't care who it was they were shooting at...

"This sort of thing happen here too, huh?" He screamed with a madman's smile creeping up his face, "Fucking hypocrites. Hey, Hey, come ask me questions Koorva!"

He emboldened himself as he stood from his position on the floor. He walked forward, before he stood in front of the glass. "Hey room service! This hotel is shit, would not even let a rat live here." He knocked on the glass and laughed.

"I have answers ja, Na kaleni, suka!" He punctuated his sentence with an obscene and particularly mature gesture.

your move.

[Phoenix]

Some would have considered it a blessing, but for Megumi, her rapidly increasing tolerance for alcohol meant that taking the edge off before a stressful situation was becoming more and more difficult as time marched on. When she was younger, she used to drink wine. Nowadays, she was occasionally purchasing neutral spirits and doing shots from those in relative secrecy to avoid looking like an alcoholic. This was one such occasion where 95% was a matter of course, and she could only expect it to take the edge off. Her sisters were fortunate, despite the alterations to their genes that would have given them her same resilience, their low body mass, for the time being, at least, balanced out the effect, making them no more tolerant of alcohol than the average adult male, at least in the western world.

Waiting for the Captain, and for her buzz to kick in, would have been boring, but Escaping Tartarus, the novelization of a recent film her sisters had already seen, kept her occupied. Megumi didn't like sitting through films, finding them boring and surprisingly shallow compared to narration and clever plotting. When brought forth as a film project, potential masterpieces were unveiled to the world stillborn and ineffectual. Writers of literary works had their own woes, and ninety-five percent of everything mankind had ever produced was garbage in Megumi's eyes, but at least with these written works, more of a vision could shine through, far less hindered by conflicting visions, poor time management, and budget concerns. She could see to the core of an idea without all the lights, music and spoken words, and she found it strangely beautiful, even when she wasn't reading a modern marvel or a classic. She had neither the hopeful optimism, nor the patience for much else, these days.

---

Thinking to do? It probably had something to do with his loadout configuration, Brant guessed. He'd often have to decide what his aircraft or mobile suit would be equipped with during the latter stages of his pre-TK training. It was like picking what color pacifier you would suck on as enemies closed in with guns blazing from every conceivable direction. It rarely made a difference ...

Avery asked for it, so Brant handed over his new monitor turned functional tablet, all the relevant information still in plain view. A1, for convenience's sake, had compiled everything, including several embedded test flight videos, into a single tab and message. "I don't think I mentioned this to you before," Brant began, tapping the modified Alkaev company logo on the fan site forum, "I was living in Russia before joining the ANF and was more or less an employee of this company. Basically a test pilot," he shrugged. "I haven't heard a peep about these three transforming suits here, which means they just finished building and testing them. Look at the specs on these things."

While there was no useful information on their powerplants or moveable frames, the estimated stats, their capabilities in combat, were all the clues a pilot, mechanic, or engineer needed to make an educated guess, and these three suits, the Throne, Mantle, and Regalia, could outperform their competition in the air with disgusting ease, and be strategically deployed far more quickly and easily than most ground based mobile suits, thanks to their sustained flight modes and long operating range. If these became the Russian flagship, there would finally cease to be a meaningful difference between mobile suit pilots and fighter pilots. Brant found that oddly comforting in some ways, but didn't want to relish in the thought when there were bigger concerns right now. The biggest for him in this momment was how these things worked. He needed a professional opinion to even have a chance of figuring that out without subjecting himself to Rosa.

[Shin]

The Monkey Enclosure

The Captain and Doctor Hart had arrived, although Tarquin wasn't terribly amused by the Doctor's joke about friends. From what he'd seen of their captive, he seemed to be the total opposite of Tarquin.

Much as he had been earlier, their captive didn't quite feel like being polite. It was the first time Tarquin got a good look at him, previously he'd either been carried over Talog's shoulder like a sack of rotten potatoes or on the floor like a dying animal. Whoever he was, he wasn't an ordinary person by any means, more of a creature than a human being. He wasn't innately repulsive, but Tarquin couldn't help but feel a mixture of disgust and pity. People who didn't do as they were told were bound to run wild, rules and authority existed to prevent people like this one existing.

Tarquin continued his cold gaze at Nikolai, not responding to his gestures and bizarre body language. He was just like the stupid teenagers from the training base, doing all they could to provoke each other. However, there was something different about this one, he wasn't just trying to annoy people, there was something else he was trying to achieve.

Edited August 29, 2016 by Shin

[Nanami Touko]

Just a Test Pilot

Avery gawked at Brant for a moment, before punching him in the arm, not hard, but not in a joking manner. "Basically a test pilot. Don't front with me! I know that family, or at least their robotics Geez, what're they doin' sendin' a TK to work on an ANF ship? What's the ANF doin' acceptin' you? Don't get me wrong, yer a great guy, but, damn... That's just a whole pot o' trouble gettin' stirred up. Russia's s'posed to be neutral." Avery wasn't upset, but she was... Perturbed. Russia hadn't changed very much over the centuries... And anyone who had been working there, probably had something else going on. Brant wasn't going to say; she wasn't going to try to tease it out of him (at least not in the middle of the hangar), but it was still a bit worrying. Wonder which brass put him through t' us... This crew just got a whole bit weirder.

"Alright, alright, let's see... B1A1?" she asked with a small smile, as she noticed his little username in the corner. "Brant Abrams tank... Wonder where we'd stuff the funnels on that one. Anyway, specs... Well, they're impressive, that's fer sure... Top line stuff, rifle's got all the proper mod'fications... An' this stuff's fer mass produce?" That was interesting... And they were transformable? That didn't seem very convenient outside of space flight. Well, check the video, maybe it has-- "Excuse me?" Avery watched the video of take off, then paused it, rewound, watched it again, and proceeded to do this a few more times. "Aw, what the hell? Pa, th'fuck'd you do now? That's s'posed... Whoops." Now she was giving up too much information. "Er, so, Brant, does it say anywhere what kinda thrusters these things're usin'?" She already knew what it was, or what it was based off of, but she couldn't go explaining that without the proper incentive... Wait-- "Do the Alkaev's do a lot of TK testing?" A line of thought connected in her head, and if Brant was willing to answer, then she might have her whole explanation already set up.

Zoo

Jessica didn't quite know how to deal with this one... Neither did Cheryl, right away, but she had some ideas. First off, though...

"Tarquin, what do you think of him? You're here for a reason, I'd assume. Unless you just like admiring animals." Cheryl smirked to herself, glancing over at the boy with her smirk, hoping he'd catch it. Anything to set him off further, or to make him think they were talking about him. They were, but that was half the fun. "I think he needs some proper discipline... And probably what you've suggested, Captain. As much as it would be easy to toss Dr. Amparo in there and have her inject him until he's spitting out everything through his tears, I'd like to put breaking people as the last option. I'll try to talk to him. What's his name?"

"Er, his name?" Jess had gotten caught on the injecting mention, unsure exactly what Megumi was going to do to future captives. "Uhm... We didn't get one--"

"You didn't get his name--"

"No! He wouldn't say anything other than 'fuck you whores' the entire time we were dragging him off... And I left to come get you before I heard it from Christina... Wait." Jess took her pad out, flipping through it, and radioing for Brant. "They were talking to her last, maybe she said something. Brant, come in. It's Jess--"

"Already on a first name basis with the Lieutenant?" Cheryl asked with a wry smile.

"--Shut up, Dr. Hart. A-Anyway, Brant, did Christina mention the name of our other captive?"

Edited August 29, 2016 by Narmaya

[Balcerzak]

When Avery smirked at him and promised it'd take more than one drink to get her to loosen her lips, Thorvald raised an eyebrow. "Challenge accepted," he guffawed back, though when she went on to state that she really didn't like revisited those memories he sombered up a bit and nodded. There was no reason to pry any further than he already had, so when it stopped being a joke, he had no problems dropping the matter and moving on.

When the mechanic had laid out some rather astute observations about the way he'd been fighting, he found him self letting out a low whistle of astonishment. "Well, I'll be if that ain't some set of eagle eyes you got on you there. I mean, I s'pose nothing better for you and your crew to be doing but watch us work while we're out there, now that I think of it, but to put together a snappy analysis like that offa just one battle? That's more something I'd expect to be hearing from the XO or Dwight or someone. You sure you're working in the right department? Kind of making me feel a little embarrassed, there, but yeah, looks like we'll each have to get the other good and lubricated some point down the line, haha." Thorvald didn't really have any qualms about sharing his history, but if she wanted to be playful about it, there was no way he was going to turn that down.

His mirth was dampened a little bit when the news came back that most of what he'd been hoping to suit up with was either not available at all, or already loaded in on one of the others' crafts. It was a bit of a shock for Thorvald, as he'd never really run into inventory problems when he was stationed at Caribou Cape, but then again, operating out of a land base, and out of a spaceship were fundamentally different from each other. He's just have to muscle past the disappointment though, and paid careful attention as Avery listed off what actually was available, weighing some possibilities in his mind. Her closing quip about ballistics was worth a friendly jibe back though. "Hey, Sister, preaching to the choir there. I'm not exactly giving up the Shotgun cause I want to, and you know I'll be coming back for it. Plus, when you consider I was trying to swap it out for missiles 'n nets, I think you'll find I'm still in the clear." Maybe she'd try to press the point about him switching out his assault sword for a beam one, but he wasn't serving anything up for free.

Before he'd come to any decisions though, Brant had shown up, portable computer tucked under his arm, asking the head mechanic to take a look at something. Their conversation clearly wasn't intended to be private, as they made no move to change location, or lower their voices, so Thorvald didn't go out of his way to ignore what they were saying either. He probably wouldn't have paid it much mind either way, had a tangentially relevant topic not come up. Apparently Brant was originally from Russia. Or well, maybe not originally, but had spent time there. That's definitely interesting. Anya had been born in Russia, after all, so he had to wonder if any of their experiences there had been similar. The talk about transforming suits wasn't anything to gloss over either, and Thorvald almost caught himself daydreaming about what it might be like to pilot something that could convert itself between several different useful forms.

He shook his head lightly, getting back on target. Right, he had a loadout to plan. None of the remaining gear really boasted much of an improvement in accuracy, so maybe he'd just need to take the power play, and make sure his hits counted when they landed? It also didn't much matter to him which module he got on his machine, his goal was mainly just to be sure that they were all actually being fielded. Maybe he should talk Brant into slapping one onto his plane too? There should be room for that, and the man had shown pretty good judgement so far, so having him in charge of some of the support functions needed to keep the unit operating well if shit hit the fan would be one of the better choices. Mind made up, he just had to wait for the Avery and Abrams conversation to do what it needed to, and find a reasonable point to chime in.

[scorri]

Astin visibly paled as the newcomer mentioned that she had been part of Apotheosis. They took a step back and seemed to automatically reach for the pin on their chest, closing their fist around it tightly. A span of emotions flashed through their head. Fear. Anger. Confusion. Panic. And then they took a breath. And another. And the feelings disappeared. Calm. Neutral. Yes, ok. They took another breath. And another. Their face settled. Nothing. And then they released their pin, hardly noticing where the points of the maple leaf had dug into their hand. As they let go of the pin, confusion started to bubble to the surface of their emotions again, but not too strong. Simply... wondering.

"I... Ah. Forgive me. I don't... Uhm..." They trailed off, staring at Christina intently before continuing. "Apotheosis... well. Welcome to the ship I suppose. I uh... I'm glad we could save you from them. Hopefully with what you were able to tell the captain, we'll be better prepared to face off against that threat. I... I think I feel more strongly about them than others on this crew, but I'm also convinced they're a bigger threat than most people seem to view them... Too much time spent on internet forums in high school I suppose." They laughed, though it seemed slightly forced, and if Kim was paying attention, she would notice the anxiety that Astin was feeling while talking about this subject.

[MechanicalBull]

Talog waved a dismissive hand. She never liked working with radioactives. Some was inevitable with space, but the notion of radiation poisoning gave her the heebie jeebies.

"Nah, don't want to use armour plate for a receiver. We could coat it with something to absorb the photons... but what then, eh? No, we want something like..."

She rummaged through the piles of pieces, pulling out a flat black panel.

"Something like this. Just a glorified solar panel, really, but it's all we need. A camera would do, but that's a little small. Something like this can pick up the laser and transfer it across."

She yanked out of the heaps what looked like the front of a bomb.

"Laser rangefinder for smart bombs. Pretty old, to be honest. Not sure why it's here. Laser out of this would do. Long ranged, good focus.

Just need to fix it all together and program it enough to pick up the signal and translate it, so we're gonna need a circuit board for each as well. Something hardened, if it's going to be out in space. You see good casing anywhere? Not like this would survive a hit, chobham or no."