Synchro Frame: Conception [IC]

[Makο]

A week or so later.

 

The light "beep" of an IV machine was one of only two sounds in the blank white medical room; the other was an AC unit. Clearly, no one had been trying to maintain it over the years, because it sounded more like a baby's rattler than a creature comfort. If Owen weren't bed ridden, he probably would have attempted to tinker with it himself, though it's probably not broken beyond a single loose screw jittering around. Regardless, he began to theorize in his head as to what else could possibly be making that noise, and thinking about how he might be able to fix it. Not like he had anything else to do; he had poured over the media on his PDA at least three times, getting more sick of it each time. There was nothing to do, nothing interesting to look at, no one to talk to... not that the latter was possible.

 

Reflection became the natural course of action as he lay there, staring at the ceiling. His thoughts wandered from topic to topic; his favorite food came to mind at one point, making him hungry and sick of medbay nutrient packs. He gave a thought to his father and mother back on his home shell, doing... something. He hadn't seen any of his family in over half a year. Maybe his father got over that annoying cough he was always complaining about. Maybe his mother managed to finally finish fixing the sink's drain, which was always leaking no matter what she did to fix it; her stubbornness kept Owen or his father from fixing it themselves. He thought of the data core on the table next to his bed, which contained the data log and dumb-AI from Nakahi. He'd made sure to keep the other techies from getting their grubby hands on it; he didn't trust them with recovering his AI. Though, he still wondered if he even could recover her. A water stain on top of the case kept popping back into his head.

 

...His mind wandered to the events of his last battle, and the days before that. He didn't have an overwhelming amount of friends within the fleet, but his niche gave him a sizable cadre of buddies. Even just a few hours before the battle begun, they were sitting around joking about some of the more "questionable" design decisions Owen had made on Nakahi. Or the day before, they had a birthday party for a bloke by the name of Fredric; he was a cocky young bastard, but a loyal friend, for certain.

 

When they encountered that god forsaken boat, they were more than just outgunned; it was a massacre. A single missile barrage wiped out an entire Combat Frame squadron; and with it, every friend he'd ever made. There was no time to mourn, or even think about what had happened. They were there, and they were gone. Owen felt a certain sadness, but it perturbed him that he felt little towards their actual deaths. Maybe it just hasn't it him yet, or maybe he was still in some sort of shock.

 

He wished something else would happen, so he could stop thinking.

 

As if to answer he wish, the door slid open, and in came the nurse that had been tending to him for a while time. She took a final puff of the cigarette she had clearly been enjoying before being disturbed by having to tend to him, before stuffing it into her pocket for whatever reason. She gave a glance to Owen, before peering down at the PDA she had been holding, flipping through some virtual pages.

 

"Ooook... for the most part, you have a clean bill of health. Most of your outer injuries have been mended, and somehow your spine has been realigned to its, uh, correct position without severing a nerve. Though, you've currently been diagnosed with a case of Aphonia, likely a result of some sort of mix of shock and minor internal injuries. At this rate, you'll be over it in like a week, but it'll be really annoying in the mean time. Understand?"

 

Owen just gave her a blank, emotionless stare. Their eyes stayed locked for about a minute, before it finally clicked in her head.

 

"Oh, yeah. No... speaking. Well, carry around a PDA or piece of paper or something to communicate, just to let people know. Oh, and here," She tossed a bottle of pills at him, which he barely caught from being caught off guard, "Take three of these a day, one before each meal. You won't die without them, but it'll help your recovery along. Now..."

 

She pulled the cigarette back out of her pocket, and took a puff.

 

"Get out of my medbay."

[Asriel Dreemurr]

"It's about time you got around to letting me out!" The irate sound of Heinrich's voice echoed through the brig, the deepest portion of TRAP's base in the Italian Alps. On the other side of the door, the sound of locks opening heralded the end of his stay in solitary confinement. However much the stay may have been deserved in the eyes of their superior, he was convinced that Gavin deserved more than the beating they had given him for the part he'd played in Melissa being left behind. Just as he was about to start berating the tech that had unlocked his door, it swung open and revealed an empty hallway before him. Puzzled, he stepped out and looked around... only to be reminded that the cells had electronic locks. With a sigh, he recalled that the locks had been set to automatically let them out after their time was up. "I'm going to kill Decker for this.  Hey Johan, are you- Jesus!" He'd turned to look at his brother's cell, and barely recognized the young man stepping out of it. He was a haggard mess of how he'd been, and was sporting an unsightly, scraggly beard that had sprouted over the eight days they'd been down there.

 

"You look like sheet yourself, Heinrich." Johan said, annoyingly calm as ever, before turning around and making his way towards the lift. He was about to protest, but after bringing his hand to his chin and noticing he was sporting some similarly unsightly facial hair. Rather than get into an argument, he joined his brother in the lift just in time to receive a question. "You get any sleep?"

 

"Not much," Heinrich answered, staring at the reflective surface of the closed door in front of them, "how about you?" The twins braced themselves as the lift shot up, bringing them quickly up to the base levels where they and the rest of the pilots' quarters were.

 

"Let's just say I've done a lot of thinking about what I'm gonna do to Decker if Melissa's so much as hurt." Johan clenched his fist as he said it, having spent the past eight days in various stages of agonizing over what he knew about Terran prison camps. "Leaving behind an ally when you have the chance to save them is unforgivable."

 

"Agreed." Heinrich was of the same mind as his brother, though he had been angrier with Decker for longer. "We should have just put a knife between his ribs. I mean what would they do to us if we did? We're the SAF's most valuable test subject after all." It was practically a curse when he said it. Sure being valuable had its advantages, but it also brought along a nice helping of unpleasantness.

 

"At worst? We'd spend the rest of our lives strapped into the Drachenrand and kept alive with nutrient paste." Johan had considered the possibility of offing their CO before, especially after he'd forced them to abandon Lau-Lau, but so far his fear of the situation he'd just described had kept it in check. "So, if it turns out Melissa's hurt we'll just shoot him down on a mission and make it look like an accident. High Command doesn't care enough about him to look that closely into it, and if we take him out over water they won't be able to examine him anyways."

 

"And if we can't make it look like an accident?"

 

"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it." The lift dinged, the doors slid open, and the two made their way first to their quarters, and then to the bathrooms to properly clean themselves. They had been told that Captain Renner was arriving today, after all.

[Dad]

The Dark Tide

 

"Come in," Takeo called to the knock at his door.  Two shaking, cowardly guards were flung forwards, onto their knees as Zalwara walked in behind them.  Their hands were heavily bandaged, and they remained looking at the floor silently with their heads hanging low.  "Logan, Kenneth," Takeo said setting down a small saucer and a napkin as he wiped his lips.  "To what do I owe the pleasure?" he said raising his eyes to Zalwara.

 

"Your men attempted to sexually assault the enemy prisoner two days ago.  Fortunately my eyes and ears are sharper than their minds."

 

Takeo let out a heavy sigh, standing to his feet.  "Get up.  On your feet," he ordered.  Logan and Kenneth struggled to their feet, grimacing as they did so.  Takeo paced around them, his hands behind his back.  "I understand that every man has needs," Takeo said as he now stood behind them, breathing down their necks.  "But aboard this ship--my ship--we have standards.  We are gentlemen.  We are not savages.  We are not animals.  We are not like the SAF.  And if you sleep with dogs," he said kicking both Kenneth and Logan in the back of their knees and forcing them to fall again.

 

"You get fleas.  Diseases.  Sickness.  And as I'm sure you know, fraternizing with the enemy is a great offense."  Takeo turned to Zalwara.  "I trust their hands have something to do with you?"

 

Zalwara remained silent, looking Takeo in the face.  Takeo nodded, turning back to Logan and Kenneth.  He put his boot into Kenneth's back, and leaned his head down between Logan and Kenneth.  He grabbed their necks, and pressed their faces against the carpet in his room.  "Fortunately for the both of you, we live in a civilized society.  You have right to a trial and due process.  But if it were up to me, you'd be publicly executed for your stupidity."  Removing himself from Kenneth's back, Takeo went back to his comfy leather chair, and crossed his legs.

 

"Put them away.  They'll be court-martialed immediately."

 

Zalwara nodded, pulling Kenneth and Logan up by their belts, and shoving them into the hall behind him.

 

"Oh, and Zalwara," Takeo called, causing Zalwara to turn around.  "That whole 'cutting off their pinkies' deal.  The collection.  It's sick.  And you're going to stop it immediately."  

 

Zalwara frowned, giving Takeo his full attention.  "The only thing sick around here, is you and your men.  They idolize you.  It's only natural they would do something you would do."  Zalwara slammed the door behind him, and marched Kenneth and Logan to the brig.

 

Meanwhile, Takeo snarled at Zalwara's words.  "Luckily for you, little one, I still have need for you."

[Maeriberii Haan]

---

 

A week passed.

 

Nisaria had been in quite a sour mood as of late, although he had tried his best to keep it hidden from everyone else. It's pointless since the Vice-Admiral would just see right through him, but troubling anyone else about it was just unnecessary. He had just received a message from Captain Ann some days ago, detailing how Rio had been transferred into another place as an order from the higher up - with a reasoning he couldn't care about. The captain also sounded really unwell, dissimilar from how she usually sounded, which didn't really make things better. He had been trying to contact both Rio and his captain several times afterwards, but he received no reply.

 

With him still being stuck on this Dark Tide for quite a while and the fact he wouldn't even see Rio again when he returned, somewhat made him lose some of his eagerness to practice. Though, as Mr. White said, practicing in this kind of state would just yield crappy results. Saria somewhat hoped he had some of Zalwara's way to clear his mind, though with his train of thought it'd be hard either way to empty it even for a while. He hadn't seen the Vice-admiral for a while anyway. Perhaps he's busy interrogating the SAF prisoner. Saria himself had avoided his urges to visit the prisoner. Her existence was abhorrent. The face she's still even alive meant that he's too weak. Hadn't he knew Zalwara and Takeo would probably treat it as a capital offense, he would've gone down there and shoot the young woman. That might make him feel better.

 

Pondering about it by a bit more, Saria then pocketed a small handgun from below his desk, and went out of his room whistling.

 

Entertaining those thoughts more wouldn't hurt probably, at the very least.

 

 

A week passed, and the base felt more hollow than ever. In an attempt to distract herself from thinking more about what happened to Melissa, Adelheid had spent most of the week locked inside of her office room, burying herself in paperworks while using the spare time she had to mess around with her miniature plastic models of the Frames that she collected and crafted. The lack of Melissa's presence was something most noticeable, and with how badly she reacted when Lauren was shot down...perhaps it's for the best she locked herself inside of this place for the time being. There's no Aeollia to yell about it to her anyway - the woman was taken to the shells due to her injuries being worse than what was diagnosed first. Adel somewhat missed bickering with her, as headache inducing as it could be. Meanwhile, she hadn't heard about Atelier for a while. The girl still somewhat creeped her out, but it's worrying how her attempts to ask about her condition to her monster of a dad didn't get answered even by a bit.

 

With three less people, one new guy stuck in intensive care for most of the week, the twins being locked due to their tantrum, and the rest wasn't really in the best of mood anyway, the light of the base seemingly dimmed significantly.

 

"Though...there's additions coming. If they're not yet another troublemakers...maybe things could get better."

 

Pipe dream, of course. She knew one of the pilots sent well enough to be skeptical, and the other didn't seem too promising too. But well, she didn't have much choice - those were who Renner could arrange to be transferred here. She had been notified about the need to go to the hangar to prepare for these new arrivals. Not in the best of mood for it, but that should be put aside for now.

 

Getting up from her really comfy chair, Adelheid made sure she looked tidy enough before going out of her office, making her way to the hangar to see everyone else.

 

---

[BANZAI!!!!]

"No no no no no. It goes over there, see?"

 

Evette Fontaine draped her arm over the technician's shoulder as she pointed out the correct part of he Synchro frame's skeleton to him. He quickly corrected his mistake and began installing the armor plate in the proper place, doing his best to ignore how uncomfortably close to him this young woman was.

 

"Apologies, maam. We aren't that familiar with this machine yet."

 

"Just don't break her before she see's action, ok?" Evette walked away without waiting for a response; her facial expression contorting into a scowl for a brief moment before quickly returning to a neutral expression. "What the hell kind of outfit are they running here? 'Not familiar with this machine' my ass."

 

---

 

"Descending to 8000... Checking the last contact now, control."

 

Leo wiped a bead of sweat from his brow as he gently descended, scanning his immediate airspace as well as the ground below. Patrol duty was routine today, like it had been. Few contacts on radar, all of them false positives or other SAF vehicles who's IFF hadn't been picked up by TRAP HQ. It was boring, sure, but Leo much preferred this kind of drudgery to a combat sortie. Besides, it got him off-base for awhile.

 

"Roger that Canis. Finish your sweep and- hold on a moment, Ensign."

 

"Something the matter?"

 

"New contact, no ID. Probably an aircraft. We'll prioritize it."

 

"Copy that. Heading over there now." Leo switched off his microphone "Mann... always right when I'm finishing up. With my luck its either gonna be civilian or some new Terran Stealth Bomber." The Canis turned on a dime in mid-air, then flew due south toward the new target.

 

---

 

 

"Its been a week and you still haven't gone down there. Too ashamed to pay one of your own a visit?" Drayden took another puff of his cigarette, blowing the smoke in Lauren Vega's general direction. She moved over a few feet.

 

"An enemy prisoner is no concern of mine." She replied, rather obstinately. It was a lie of course, but better that than letting Drayden know he got under her skin.

 

A sarcastic "Cooolllld." was Drayden's reply, drawing out the word to sound more flippant.

 

"What do you want, anyway? Its not like you to come down to the crew lunge unless you need something from one of us. Spit it out already."

 

Drayden's eyebrows lowered, just a hair. To those in the know, that meant danger. "Just... going for a stroll, Ensign. Figured I'd chat with you is all." Drayden's inflection was a more obvious warning sign, one that made the hairs on the back of Lauren's neck stand up. She kept her poker face though, then proceeded to throw her commanding officer a curveball.

 

"What's bugging you?" She said it with sincerity, too. Drayden's expression remained unchanged.

 

"The atmosphere on board's gotten a bit... toxic. Its making it hard to breathe around here." Ironically (and likely intentionally) he punctuated his statement by taking yet another puff from his cigarette, dropping it and crushing the butt beneath his foot when he was finished with it.

 

"Cryptic." Drayden didn't respond. Instead he flashed a brief, unsettling half-grin, and left the room. When he was out of earshot, Lauren took a deep breath. On the surface it seemed like she'd just dodged a bullet, but she felt no relief. Rather, apprehension, and a little bit of fear. Clearly something was amiss.

 

---

 

"Everything finished, Jiyuu?"

 

It was Thomas Renner, having made his way into the supply shuttle's cargo hold. Five SFs stood against the far wall; more machines than TRAP had pilots for. Having finished his call to Gavin, Renner had opted to give the equipment and personnel one more look before they landed. Aside from last-minute adjustments to the frames, everything was in order. Before Akira had a chance to speak though, someone else spoke up from a few yards away.

 

"Cabernet is all green, Sir!"

 

It was Evette Fontaine, absentmindedly butting into the conversation, as per usual.

 

"One less thing for me to worry about. Anyway, you two, we'll be landing soon. I trust you'll be able to show Miss Fontaine around, Akira?" He gestured toward the senior pilot's new teammate. His way of informally introducing the two to one another. Evette turned toward Akira.

 

"Oh, you've been assigned to TRAP too?"

 

---

 

"Not what I was expecting." As it turned out, the "plane" was in fact a  combat frame: A Victory, according to Canis's database, and it seemed to be damaged pretty severely. Leo didn't need to wait for orders to hail it. "This is Ensign Leo Vega of the Tactical Response Advance Platoon. You aren't broadcasting a SAF IFF. Identify yourself." There was static for a moment, then, a voice on his radio frequency.

 

"Captain Jack Bartlett here. Fourth Tactical Frame Wing. Requesting permission to make an emergency landing at TRAP HQ." Leo quickly patched the signal through to TRAP control, who responded for him.

 

"This is TRAP HQ. Permission granted. Ensign Vega will guide you in Captain."

 

"I appreciate it." The Victory's head turned toward Canis. "Lead the way, Ensign. Just take it slow, my machine can't go very fast right now."

 

"Roger that. Why are you out here all alone, sir?"

 

"I'd tell you Ensign, but that information's classified. Apologies." The Major paused for a moment as both frames turned and headed for TRAP's base at a reduced speed. "You said your name was Vega, right?"

 

"Leo Vega, sir. Why?"

 

"...No reason kid. Just making sure I heard it right." Bartlett switched off his radio for a moment. "So command stooped that low after all..."

 

---

 

"I hear you've taken up collecting body parts, Vice Admiral." Drayden was leaning against the wall of the hallway as Zalwara walked through it. Though he was being a bit coy, anyone listening could tell that he was not at all amused by the subject. "Amputating combat frames get too stale for you?" He got off the wall, blocking Zalwara's path. The expression he wore on his face was not at all a pleasant one.

 

 

[Dad]

While locking away two broken men, Zalwara would soon find that his evening was about to be made even more unpleasant.  Sliding the cell doors closed behind the individual prisoners, Zalwara nodded to Kenneth and Logan.  "Try anything like that again, and you'll lose a lot more than a pinkie."

 

He turned his back to return to his post, when a heavy, obviously displeased voice addressed him as he turned around.

 

"I hear you've taken up collecting body parts, Vice Admiral." 

 

Oh, joy.  Drayden was still alive.  

 

"Amputating combat frames get too stale for you?" 

 

Initially he attempted to ignore Drayden and return to his assignments, but that would prove fruitless as the tall, dark, and gruesome Drayden blocked his path, like a bully in a school yard asking for money.  But this was no helpless school wimp he was picking on.

 

 

"You know, Drayden," he said folding his arms, and standing up straight.  He carefully observed his guest, making nods occasionally.  "For one of the most respected pilots in all of Terra Firma, you don't take very good care of yourself," he said sarcastically.  "I mean, your hair has grown far beyond the requirements.  I've got some fresh blades up stairs.  If you want, I could take off a little around your neck.  What do you think?" he joked to himself.  But of course Drayden would take that in bad taste.  As he did everything.  "But if you're really curious, then the answer is yes.  For every stupid mistake someone aboard this ship has made, I have a pinkie finger.  And it's not about collecting them," he said nodding to Kenneth and Logan.

 

"It's a message.  A message that reminds these men that every action has a cost.  So far, I've never had to tell anyone more than once.  I'm just waiting for that to change.  I would love to put some of my newer blades to the test," he said firmly.  "And so what makes someone like yourself question my methods?  Or did you come to bore me to death?"

[Super Chaos Sonic]

"Everything finished, Jiyuu?"

 

Akira turned his head to see Thomas Renner approaching him. He figured that he was coming to make sure things were in order...that was just the type of person Thomas was, usually careful about these things.

 

"Well-"

 

"Cabernet is all green, Sir!"

 

Akira stopped short as he saw a young girl walking up beside him. He was a bit startled by her sudden appearance as well as her overall appearance. When did they start letting children into TRAP? he thought, before clearing his throat slightly. "Captain Renner. To answer your question, everything looks green lit on this side. The current SFs are prepped and ready. The adjustments to them shouldn't take too much longer either, sir."

 

"One less thing for me to worry about. Anyway, you two, we'll be landing soon. I trust you'll be able to show Miss Fontaine around, Akira?"

 

He stood there dumbfounded. Did the Captain seriously just leave him stuck with...

 

"Oh, you've been assigned to TRAP too?"

 

He did... Akira sighed slightly, rubbing the back of his neck for a moment. The last thing he needed before returning to TRAP was showing a newbie the ropes. But he remembered that he was the newer, kinder Akira now. He slowly turned to face the young girl, still rubbing the back of his neck.

 

"More along the lines of returning to duty." Akira said simply. "I was assigned on a mission away from TRAP not too long ago." He didn't feel like going further into detail about everything. It wasn't the girl's place to know exactly everything about him. "Regardless, I'm Jiyuu Akira..." Akira held his hand out towards the young girl. If she shook his hand, that was up to her.

 

Regardless, Akira looked over at one of the Frames: Cabernet. "I assume your Cabernet's pilot, since you mentioned it to Captain Renner." he asked, seeing the girl slightly nod. "I have to say it does look like an impressive model. Then I take it you're more along the lines of keeping hidden in battle in order to take the enemy out when they least expect it?"

[Asriel Dreemurr]

"Would it kill command to get some half-decent grub?" The words came from the mouth of a familiar bald-headed man whose voice bore only a faint accent, once more clad his heavy, high-collared black coat. He presently sat at a table in the mostly empty pilot's mess at Terra Firma's base just south of what was once the city of Reims in the North of France. On the table in front of him was a plate of food that only those pilots who were truly desperate for a hot meal after returning from the front would find appealing. Just about the only thing that was good here was the Styrofoam cup of water sitting to the right of his "meal" and he was rapidly running out of that. So, he went with the tried and true method of pinching his nose and shoveling down the food as quickly as he could so he didn't have to taste it. Once he had managed to clean his plate, without getting a single scrap on his coat mind you, he kept his nose pinched, filled his mouth with water, sloshed it around to get as much of the residue of his meal, and swallowed. Only then did he finally release his nose and return to breathing normally, though there was a foul taste left on his tongue that he did not think he could easily rid himself of. As he was preparing to leave, a few words caught his attention.

 

"Why are we even doing this?" Michael's dark eyes drifted across the empty tables, and were soon resting upon a trio of young pilots still in their flight suits. By the looks of things, namely that they had their helmets with them and sweat had glued their hair down to the tops of their heads, they had just returned from being out in the field. The one that had caught his attention was a sprightly girl with light brown hair and a tired expression on her face.

 

"Isn't it obvious?" The one who replied to her was a muscular man with blonde hair and a hard face. Everything about him screamed "soldier" and it was a bit jarring to look at. "We're trying to free ourselves from the Shells' oppression." Well, that was certainly idealistic. Deciding to see how this ended up, the old sniper started his way towards the trio.

 

"But we're not oppressed." The girl said again, "We've already pushed the Shells back, and we could govern ourselves without having to worry about them." It was an argument Michael had heard before, and he thought he guessed what was coming next.

 

"Even if that's true," said the third, a woman with hair so bright red Michael couldn't be sure if it was artificial, "we still need to make those bastards pay. You know what they did to San Loma, and they'll do the same to every single-"

 

"Mind if I cut in?" The trio looked on, stunned, as the bald man seated himself in a chair next to the first of them to speak. Raising a brow, he looked over the three of them for a moment before speaking again. "You do bring up some good reasons for fighting. If we stopped fighting against the shells, it is possible that they would take control of the entire world again. Of course, given the fact that much of our territory is incredibly well fortified and they still do not have an answer to the Spirit of Motherwill, I doubt we would have any immediate worry for our freedom. And perhaps there are some guilty souls among the Shell Armed Forces, but we have long since lost any claim to the moral high ground. Just as the Shells would bombard our cities and burn them to ashes given the chance, so to would we destroy the Shells themselves, each of which is home to millions of people whose only crime is being born in the sky. No, these are not the reasons we fight." He fell silent for a moment and looked over the group before him, who stared with incredulity in their eyes. Intending to leave them on that note, he rose from his chair and was about to turn to leave and make sure the mechanics had not broken anything on his frame when the brown-haired girl spoke up again.

 

"Then why? If we're not in the right and we don't have to defend ourselves, why do we have to fight?" A wry smile crossed the old soldier's face, and while he paused as if in thought he had known his answer to that before he sat down.

 

"Why, to end the war my dear girl. To see this conflict settled once and for all, so that those who come after us do not have to fight." He did not give the pilots a chance to speak, instead simply turning about and doing as he had intended to do after finishing his meal.

[BANZAI!!!!]

"Bravo. You must give that speech often, seeing as its so well practiced."

 

A voice called out to Michael Wittman as he walked down the corridor leading out of Reims Base's mess. It took a moment before its owner, a petite girl with light red hair appeared from around the corner. She looked quite young, almost too young to be in the service in fact, though the uniform she wore meant that she most certainly was. Judging by the wings pin she wore, she was a pilot too. She'd clearly forgotten that she was speaking to a superior officer for a moment, but remembered and snapped him a quick salute before she continued.

 

"Apologies for eavesdropping on your conversation, Sir. I meant to speak to you earlier, but you seemed preoccupied and I didn't want to interrupt you. Its rather refreshing to listen to someone as enlightened as yourself, for a change." She paused again, this time to walk a little closer to him and offer him a handshake. "I'm Ensign Tessa Vyrosla of Asymmetric Warfare Group Section 9, callsign...  Rose 4" She said "Rose 4" with an audible twinge of disdain. "I've just been assigned to your unit, and I wanted to introduce myself in person to you before my handlers did. Its... actually kind of an honor to meet you, Commander Wittman."

 

---

 

"You know, Drayden, for one of the most respected pilots in all of Terra Firma, you don't take very good care of yourself. I mean, your hair has grown far beyond the requirements.  I've got some fresh blades up stairs.  If you want, I could take off a little around your neck.  What do you think?"

 

The remark produced a predatory smirk on Drayden's face.

 

"But if you're really curious, then the answer is yes.  For every stupid mistake someone aboard this ship has made, I have a pinkie finger.  And it's not about collecting them," he said nodding to Kenneth and Logan. "It's a message.  A message that reminds these men that every action has a cost.  So far, I've never had to tell anyone more than once.  I'm just waiting for that to change.  I would love to put some of my newer blades to the test. And so what makes someone like yourself question my methods?  Or did you come to bore me to death?"

 

"You know I don't do boring, Zalwara. I don't usually do warnings, either, but I'll make an exception for you. Consider it a friendly gesture." Drayden made his way forward, stopping about a step or two away from being much too close to Zalwara. "Keep sending your 'messages'," he made a gun shape with his hand and pretended to shoot Zalwara in the face. "And someone's bound to put a bullet in between those big, pretty eyes of yours. Yoshino lets you get away with it because he likes you, but lets just say that the real soldiers among us might not be so... accommodating. Best not overstep your bounds, Vice Admiral Adachi."

 

---

 

"More along the lines of returning to duty. I was assigned on a mission away from TRAP not too long ago." Evette nodded and let him continue. "Regardless, I'm Jiyuu Akira..." She shook his hand, though she purposefully weakened her grip so as to appear even less threatening.

 

"Evette Fontaine, Mr. Jiyuu. Its a pleasure."

 

"I assume your Cabernet's pilot, since you mentioned it to Captain Renner." Evette nodded. "I have to say it does look like an impressive model. Then I take it you're more along the lines of keeping hidden in battle in order to take the enemy out when they least expect it?"

 

"Information gathering, actually. Enemy detection, reconnaissance, that sort of thing. Its my job to make sure you know what you're up against out there... though I'm sure a guy like you can handle whatever gets thrown at you" She gave him a wink. "Soooo, what's TRAP's HQ like? You've been there before right? Oh! and which one;s your frame?"

 

 

 

 

[Super Chaos Sonic]

"Evette Fontaine, Mr. Jiyuu. Its a pleasure."

 

"The formalities aren't necessary." Akira sighed, feeling her weakened handshake. "Akira will do just fine."

 

Although she was thrown into his lap, Evette actually knew what she was talking about and Akira could tell it almost immediately. Especially when she talked about her Frame: Cabernet.

 

"Information gathering, actually. Enemy detection, reconnaissance, that sort of thing. Its my job to make sure you know what you're up against out there... though I'm sure a guy like you can handle whatever gets thrown at you."

 

Akira only crossed his arms, listening to Evette's explanations about her Frame. Reconnaissance? He figured as much. A beautiful space flower such as this didn't deserve to be on the battlef- WHOA!! Stop that right there, Jiyuu... Akira thought, stopping his train of thought. He had just met this girl and he was already getting attached. Wasn't one of the best things to do in this line of work...

 

"Well then...I suppose your information gathering and reconnaissance skills are what attracted TRAP to you? Then again, you probably joined on your own." Akira chuckled lightly, before hearing her next few questions.

 

"Soooo, what's TRAP's HQ like? You've been there before right? Oh! and which one's your frame?"

 

Akira sighed slightly, before giving off another chuckle. "When you get to HQ, it's like a whole 'nother world there. Two words of advice..." he said, holding up two fingers. "Don't let a guy named Gavin catch you doing nothing. Keep yourself busy and you won't get lectured. And two...have the backs of your fellow pilots." He lowered his hand, sighing slightly thinking about how he treated everyone before he left before.

 

Quickly shaking his head, Akira changed his demeanor and walked past Evette, moving towards Raiju Kai. "As for my Frame...it's this guy right here." he faced the young girl, pointing his thumb back at the Frame. "The SFS-71X-03 Raiju Kai. This Frame and I've been through pretty much a lot since my time in TRAP." He moved over towards the terminal and proceeded to show off his Frame to Evette, she obviously seemed very interested in this. "It's fitted with a Chobham Armor Plating, a Flight Unit...well a fixed up flight unit anyway." Akira chuckled, before showing off the armaments that Raiju Kai had to offer. "As for fighting style...you did have the right idea. I can handle whatever comes my way...especially when I have Raiju Kai wielding Masamune."

[Dad]

She breathed slowly, trying to make her breaths even as she listened in on the conversation, pretending to be asleep.  She recognized the one voice from earlier, when she was taken prisoner.  That's the guy that helped her right?  So who's this other one?  Are they allies?

 

"Best not overstep your bounds, Vice Admiral Adachi."

 

Zalwara smiled.  "You honor me Drayden.  To know that you among many on this ship hate me is a Godsend.  That's good.  That means when I'm finally done here, you won't be stuck sucking up to an Admiral who waits on you hand and foot."  His smile quickly faded.  "If you think for one second Takeo likes me, you're mistaken.  We have history.  That's all.  At the rate things are going, that history will be history.  Takeo's gone soft.  And if it takes a minuscule act like taking a man's finger to get him to hate me and take action, then I won't change a thing about it.  I'm not about to play house with these wimps.  And anybody who has a problem with it can take it up with the end of my blades."

 

Zalwara shoved a shoulder past Drayden, waiting for him to react.  "Rile them up.  Make them hate my guts.  Maybe then, we'll see some progress around here.  Now if you'll excuse me," Zalwara said stepping out of the light.  "I have a ship to run."

 

As he climbed the stairs he called back down to Drayden one last time.

 

"And stay away from my prisoner."

 

His prisoner?  Who did this guy think he was?  She remained silent, still pretending to be sleeping.  "Drayden, huh?  And apparently the other one . . .what did he say his name was?"  Zalwara.  they sure didn't appear to be allies.  "And he's a Vice Admiral of this ship.  One more thing to report once I get the hell out of here.  I'm going to absorb as much information as possible.  Now I just need to figure out who this Drayden guy is."  Melissa softly turned over, 'shifting' in her 'sleep'.  Her head was now facing the ceiling, her ears in prime position to listen in to anything else that this Drayden person may want to accidentally reveal.  She kept her eyes closed, and waited.

[Maeriberii Haan]

---

 

"...Something's up, huh?" Saria mumbled to himself as Zalwara passed not far away from him. He only caught a glimpse of the vice-admiral's expression, but it wasn't the usual one that he was familiar with. Either way, that's probably personal business that Saria shouldn't really investigate much. He's been standing here in this corner alone for awhile, messing around with his loaded gun and played around with it as he continuously thinking about the uneasy feeling that plagued his mind as of late. He still was pretty intent of going downstairs to see the prisoner by himself, but for now he didn't do anything. He was aware that he might have a chance of just losing control of himself and shoot the prisoner in a fit. Not that it would bug him much, but making his captain and Rio burdened with his mess wasn't something he's looking for. Or was it, really?

 

His fingers itched.

 

After Zalwara was out of sight, Saria decided to steel his resolve and go down so he could confront his own worries directly. Whatever happened after this point, let fate decide that. Climbing down the stairs towards the containment room, the first person he recognized while inside wasn't the prisoner, but it was the man who had brought that woman he talked to a while ago. He wasn't really someone Saria'd trust, from his looks. Didn't really look like a hopeless patriot who didn't know better though, or a wide-eyed idealist of any kinds, so if that's true, that might be something that Saria could at least respect.

 

"Oh hai there. You're the man that brought the defector here a while ago, right? What kind of worth do you see in her anyway?

 

Other than that, what's up?"

 

With his usual brand of unfitting cheerfulness, Saria tried to greet the man. It came off as sounding flat however. That's fine. It's not like he's trying to sound friendly or anything.

 

---

[Asriel Dreemurr]

"Hmm?" The old commander found his attention drawn to the source of the voice, and his gaze rested upon a girl who looked far too young to actually be in the Terran military. In fact he barely believed it when she said she was, but then she did have a look to her that was unique to pilots. Something about her stance that evoked many long hours spent in the pilot of some or another frame. He actually spent so long examining her to confirm that she was, in fact, what she said she was that he had forgotten she'd snapped to attention in front of him.

 

"At ease, Ensign." He stated, waving a hand dismissively. "I don't abide formality like that. We're going to be spilling blood and oil together, so just call me 'Mike.' Can you do that,Tessa?" He didn't wait for her to respond before he turned about and continued his course towards the hangar where he was certain he'd have to beat at least one of the mechanics over the head with their own wrench for messing up his baby. "Section Nine, hmm? Is Captain Kusanagi still running things over there, or did the old bird finally decide to retire?" He gave a chuckle as he continued on down the hallway, eventually making his way outside to cross the ground between the mess hall and the base's hangars. The sky was overcast and off to the west there was a much darker pack of clouds occasionally lit by flashes of lightning. Rain was falling in long, dark sheets from it, but the storm had not quite reached where they stood on the parched, bare ground of the base.

 

"I'm going to assume that you've already had your frame modified to fit within PAT's specifications. As I understand it, we only have about another month until command has a new mission for us, and that isn't exactly enough time to get everything you'll need." He finally made his way through the twenty meter tall door of the hanger, through which frames could pass in and out easily. As was always the case in a base as relatively close to the front lines as this, the place was abuzz with activity. In fact, the sheer chaos of the base's entire maintenance team running about this way and that disoriented him so that it took him several moments to remember where his own frame was. "Now, how about we play a game of 'you show me yours, I'll show you mine?' I need to inspect your frame anyways, so we'd best get that done so we don't have some admiral shouting at us later."

 

---

 

Having since returned to their quarters, the Drachenmoore Twins were busy generally cleaning themselves up and grooming so as to best avoid looking like they had just spent a week in solitary confinement. They hadn't received any orders, or really any kind of communication from anyone in the base, since leaving so they had little else to do. At the moment, Heinrich was busy shaving the unruly mass of facial hair he had grown back down to smooth bare skin. Johan, on the other hand, was in the shower washing himself off and trying to take his mind off the many unsavory possible torments that Melissa's captors could have visited upon her. It didn't do well to think about them right now, it would only cause him undue stress considering he had no way of improving things for her at all. Still, try as he might, he couldn't get it out of his mind. Of course, the both of them kept it very firmly in their minds just who was responsible for leaving her behind in the first place.